Fed Up With Your Indigestion

That track makes me laugh, it's by "the fuckwits" or something. Can't remember their proper name but it ain't dissimilar.*

Anyhoo. Today's Times carries an interview with Sir Bernard Lovell, unbelievably still alive at the real and not piss-taken age of 94. Unfortunately, all I could think of was how Telly Twatteron out of the National Secular Society will respond in Monday's Times:

Dear Sir,

The interview with "Sir" Bernard Lovell was nothing short of a disgrace. It is, surely, an anomaly that in this pluralistic, multicultural, secular society, an important figure in the public sphere - and a scientist to boot - should admit to not being an atheist. My taxes - the taxes of a rational man - have supported this charlatan for fifty years, which is an affront to all right thinking atheists (although, clearly, the term "bright" is more appropriate and any other term is, in fact, an insult - and recent research shows that atheists are the most discriminated against group in the USA).
More than that, his disclosure that he has - appallingly- played the organ in his local church all this time shows that his scientific judgement has to be called into question. If such an apparently rational man could believe in the the "flying spaghetti monster" (a most amusing and very clever satire, on religion, published against the machinations of the all powerful religious conspiracy thingy) then surely all of his theories and thoughts must be discounted. This is a man who believes in other stuff. Stuff I have never seen. This means that when he talks about other stuff I have never seen, but that I am usually happy to take on trust from experts, he cannot be believed.
Accordingly, the 50 year history of Jodrell Bank must be called into immediate question. I mean - since his mindset is so clearly askew, any views he takes must, logically, be ignored. I ask readers of this newspaper a simple question: if you were in a car driven by someone who told you he was an excellent driver, but who also said that a lovely fluffy bunny would meet you at the end of the journey, wouldn't you jump out, regardless of the speed of the car? I am not saying I disbelieve Jodrell Bank on pulsars, just that..well, you know.
And I _keep_ coming back to the central point: how dare my taxes be spent on anything that does not reflect my worldview?

Yours, Tervy Narcisseron


ps Do not attempt to reply to my letter: I have gone into hiding because I will surely be targeted by religious extremists following my exceptionally brave letter, and also interview in the Catholic Herald a couple of weeks ago aren't I brave after all it was a right hatchet job ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha (ad infinitum, or rather ad finitum ha ha ha ha)




Indeed.


Besides of this crap, life goes on. Or rather it doesn't for a number of people, whose names I do not intend to list here. It came as something of a surprise to me to wake up this morning, although I had not drunk anything except mathematics last night. Perhaps that was the reason. I still thought: "fuck me, what do you know?"

Any Catholic readers I still have (and I have reason to believe that Crushed By Ingsoc still reads me) will understand this: when I was 12, I had no-one, literally no-one, to pray for during Eucharistic Prayer 1 when the priest says "Now we pray for those who have died...". Now-a-days my list goes on almost until the end of the prayer. Fuck me: friends, chums, aquaintances, favourite pop stars, family, teachers, tutors, not lovers yet thank fuck - it just pours out like a stream of mortal diarrhoea. I estimate it finishes around "on earth as it is on heaven".

for any well read atheist readers, yes I know it goes on to say "..marked with the sign of faith". So what. We're all fucking dead in the long run. All fucking dead.

For any bastard tenacious atheist readers yes I know I don't sound very positive for a Catholic. So the fuck what. Christ came for the tossers, the wankers and the fuckwits. Not for the people who had it all sorted. Hence Nietzsche calls it a slave religion, and hence now we've told him to fuck off we're still obsessed with victimhood. Nietsche would laugh then he'd fuck off down the pub. For a quick flirt with the Swedish barmaid and a boast about how when he's not in the pub he's really something quite important. Then he'd get into a fight with some twat who thought he was mad and he'd say "Oi who are you calling mad you ignorant cunt" and he'd glass the twat then he'd say "had enough have you you fuckwitted arsehole, had enough eh, you fucking cunt" and he'd kick the tosser in the bollocks when he was down then he'd say "think god isn't dead do you you fucking twat, you cocksucker, think the will to power means nothing do you you stupid fucker" then he'd punch the semi-conscious face of his opponent and say "jesus fucking christ a weak thing would fucking hide itself in a sturdy fucking barrel" and then he'd tell the fucker to get up then he'd say "fuck me you dickhead you English are all the fucking same; you lose the religion but you don't lose the fucking ethic".

Or something. [breathes in and out like Harry Enfield character c.1991]


the drums...the drums...the drums...the drums...the drums....



*=They are "The TingTings", or so I am told.