my life as a artist
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jesus wants us for a sunbeam
Sunday 6th January 2008 8:15 PM
Hooth comments that she doesn't think Jesus would agree with Ratty, that hell is a real place where people really burn forever in eternal flames of damnation. To be honest Hooth, I don't think Judas would either. Ratty promulgates a life-denying cosmology of such breath-taking crudity that, bearing in mind the massive influence of the Catholic church, it is as you say, not very funny.
Besides the massive carbon footprint, it's the sheer never-endingness of the punishment that I find most disturbing. If the flames of hell are so agonising, and the gnashing of teeth so terrible, surely twenty to twenty-five minutes (or thirty-five to forty minutes at a lower setting) would suffice for the gravest of sinners? But eternity? Imagine you're a catholic, and you've just endured a thousand years of uninterrupted, writhing agony, for being gay and listening to Pogues records, and you ask God to stop and he tells you that your punishment's only just begun. It'd certainly test your faith.
Posted 8:15 PM | 4 Comments | Permalink
no girls allowed
Thursday 3rd January 2008 11:13 PM
When I was at junior school, one of my mates was a German boy called Joe Ratzinger, commonly known as Ratty. Every break-time, me, Ratty and a few others would form a human chain, and walk around the playground, shouting for people to join in our game. 'Who wants to play at Abrahamic religions? No girls allowed!' we'd cry, our voices giddy with monotheism.
I always preferred playing at the newer Abrahamic religions, like Bahai and Rastafarianism, but when Ratty was there we had to play at Roman Catholicism, otherwise he'd threaten us all with Chinese wrist-burns. I'd usually be a cardinal, in charge of the inquisition, say, whereas Ratty would, infallibly, be the Pope.
Even at that tender age, he was a stickler for orthodoxy. I remember one playtime, trying to introduce elements of Rastafarianism into the Catholic doctrine, that involved smoking loads of dope and then feeling guilty about it, and he was so outraged, that he ex-communicated me until the end of break-time.
Imagine my surprise this week, then, when I saw Ratty's cheeky little face poking out of an article on the inside pages of The Times. It seems that our page three stunner has changed his name to Benedict XVI and is doing the pope thing for real! Despite the fact that he was wearing an extravagantly pointed hat that made him look a bit like a Mesopotamian fish-god, he was easily recognisable, although I did notice that since junior school days, his once adorable, puppy-dog eyes had narrowed somewhat.
Apparently, Ratty has been saying that rather than being a religious symbol to galvanise the faithful, hell is actually a real place, where people really do burn forever in the agonising flames of eternal damnation. Even in the playground, he always did make me feel a bit wishy-washy.
It's a shame that Ratty is now a declared celibate, because I honestly think that the love of a good woman could really loosen him up. Next time we meet at the 'friends reunited' bash, if he's up for it, I'm going to suggest a game of kiss chase, with girls allowed. Sometimes, pontiff's just wanna have some fun.
Posted 11:13 PM | 3 Comments | Permalink
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