He’s not the Messiah!

At Easter the imaginary son of a non-existent god rose from his grave and carried on, much as before. Pushing his largely unheeded fables down our throats and, backed by a dwindling number of mostly deluded disciples, he imagined the world needed his soothing touch. After two thousand years of Christianity the world looks a lot less stable than it did when the Romans were ruling with an iron fist, but still some persist in believing peace will one day come.   

The modern-day followers of Christ are still being crucified in the Middle East and their message of ‘do unto others’ is ignored as savages demonstrate what truly happens to the meek. And elsewhere, Christianity is in decline as one particular hard-line doctrine enforces its will on half the world’s population while the other half has advanced and realised that blind adherence to a faith will never be a part of the solution. But some keep on repeating the same old mantras.

The dogged insistence that there IS an answer to the world’s ills if we could only get along in harmony is countered by the everyday proof of people not only succeeding but thriving without it. But still Labour the religion pushes on with its message, spreading its gospel across the land via a rag-taggle band of preachers imploring voters to convert to communal ways. But beware, in the Christian myth, as in many others, there are devils. These tortured demons, so the stories go, seek to lure the unwary from the path of light and righteousness; they are also a convenient excuse for when a devout acolyte snaps and goes 'off-message' with an Uzi in a shopping centre.

And so it has come to pass that another miracle has been revealed and risen before us we see one who had died and gone away. The question you have to ask yourself is: is he an angel from god on high or an emissary of Satan himself? And is the spectacle of his messianic resurrection to be looked on in awe and wonder, or is it a warning to all mankind to prepare for the apocalypse? Nah, it’s Tony-fucking-Blair.

Like a bad penny he’s turned up again, supposedly to bolster Ed Miliband’s election campaign. Not content with stirring up the Middle East he has returned to his unfinished project; the annihilation of the last remaining Britons. In Tony’s mind, only consigning the vestiges of Britishness to the history books and subsuming this island nation wholesale into Europe will do – although he may wish to check out the dogged persistence of Israel before he relaxes, thinking the job done.

Cherie backs him all the way...

But like Christ himself, Blair seems to believe he can live forever; he’s said he will carry on doing his good work until he’s ninety-one. You’d have thought that the Millennium Dome would be enough for one man, wouldn’t you, but no, he’s still after that lost legacy, isn’t he? Remember those eyes? He’s not the Messiah – he’s a very naughty boy.