Diary of an Atheist Priest_2
Diary of an Atheist Priest_2
I have just returned to the vicarage after giving the last rights to incontinent Mr Macduff, though I suspect he was a crypto catholic. That huge cross over his bed with a naked guy nailed to it was a ‘dead’ giveaway. Pun intended.
That was a pathetic attempt at humour, but I am the only one I know who actually has any sense of humour. Mrs Robinson might be an excellent housekeeper, but she is a lost cause as far as humour is concerned. Besides, she is deaf and shows early signs of Alzheimer's disease. At times she thinks I am her son and that’s not too bad, but when she thinks I am her long dead husband and all two hundred pounds of her become coyly suggestive, then it takes the patience of a saint. I wouldn’t mind if she was anything like Mrs Smythe but no such luck.
I wish I could understand what the late Mr Macduff was trying to say at the end, but I don’t speak Scottish. We who have been born and bred in Portsmouth, are blessed with a distinct lack of any regional accent. We find Yorkshire a challenge and Scotland insurmountable. Without his false teeth in his mouth only mysterious, unintelligible Gallic war cries came out of him. Come to think of it, he looked old enough to be the original Macduff who actually slayed Macbeth.
Naturally we called the ambulance when he started his death throes, but it took three hours for it to arrive and he was long gone by then. It’s a mystery to me how local ambulance drivers can find their way home, but I expect that the smell of their sausage and mash dinner will guide them.
Hopefully Mr Macduff went to a better place, since in 1863 our Privy Council, in its infinite wisdom, decided that there is no hell. It never fails to amuse me to reflect on the case of Williams v Bishop of Salisbury, in which British lawyers, in essence, officially determined on behalf of the state that eternal damnation is not part of the doctrine of the Church of England. No doubt they sent their decision in eloquent legalese to God, informing Him that they had ‘dismissed hell with costs’ and that they looked forward to receiving His cheque by return post.
Mrs Robinson just brought my tea and my newspaper. God, she is in ‘wife’ mode today. Smiling suggestively and lifting her eyebrows at me. Since hell holds no terrors for me thanks to our Privy Council, please let me die now.
Ha! I see in the headlines that our ‘UK Defence Secretary Gavin Williamson Accuses Russia of Planning to Kill “Thousands and Thousands and Thousands” of Britons’. Another idiot, like the previous one who said that he was willing to order a first nuclear strike. What a moron. Just one more corrupt globalist neocon like his predecessors. Don’t these people realize that if the Russians sneeze collectively, they can drown is in their mucous?
Russia is as much of a threat to Britain as the Klingons, but of course it all has to do with the under-the-table commissions they stand to make from the military industrial complex. Just like the proposed HS2 high-speed railway. Spend £80 billion, destroy the countryside, so that some chump can pay a fortune to arrive in Manchester from London 20 minutes faster. A fraud and a hoax pushed on us by those whose pockets shall be illegally lined out of the venture.
We live in a country with politicians whose visual acuity is that of Ray Charles.
To be continued…
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