Pure cheese


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Don’t you find it odd that many who believe in me – worship me – give their life to me – talk to me as we are talking now … Don’t you find it odd that so many don’t celebrate my birth each Christmas?  Not just the “others” – but many of the “bible bashers”.

Now I get that the “others”, as we shall call them, see me as something different to you – have a different sacred text with a different me – similar differences and different similarities …

But the “bible-bashers”, as we shall call this segment of society … ?

Apparently the date is too pagan – too much “not me” – too much “bad spirits” to celebrate the “pure me” that I am (allegedly).  And, to be fair, winter when I was a chap – the 25th December – was not a date to be lounging around in the countryside counting sheep.  Pisses down.  Gets really cold on the higher ground.  So the due-date has been birthed out of convenience.  Along with the chintz of the rose-tinted “Christmas Story”.

Pure cheese.

Because I am much more serious than that.  To be feared.  Prostrated before.  Fasted for.  Worshipped, praised and thanked.  Always and for ever.  Can’t be mixing me up with pagan festivities.  That would never do!

Can’t be mixing me up with the “others” either.  Where would that end?

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No, Paul, it’s best that all these “believers” take me seriously.  Keep me racially spiritually pure.  I deserve a bit of respect after cloning myself – doing all that getting my hands dirty with you lot – getting banged-up and forever after – idolised for washing you all in blood.  No self-respecting pagan would use weird imagery like that and call it “fact”.  Or perhaps they would.  This Godly pecking-order you all created comes with endless potential for confusion and distrust.  What’s a believer to believe?   Someone has to make sense of it all.   Bring order from confusion.  Law from Love.  Inhumanity from humanity.  Invent an “in-language” no one else can fathom.  Then set-up universities and a grading system to keep the status-quo (can’t go wrong with a bit of Latin doncha know).

Remember when I used to rock up in the batmobile?  Remember when we meandered through that imaginary fun fair?  When I used to lounge on your imaginary sofa?  Sleep beside you in my bed-by-your-head that you imagined?  Remember when I yelled “NO!” loud enough so that you almost fell down the stairs?  Remember all those insights we shared in the shower?  Remember God o’clock?  Remember all those moments … ?

Where is any of that in the bible – where is the spiritual purity in any of that – where is the to be feared and worshipped – where exactly is any verse reference in this conversation – why am I not quoting my own scripturally correct (allegedly) scripture at you?  What have I done  with the bible here – and more to the point, Paul, why haven’t you got yours open and in front of you right now?

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Neither of us has a bible in sight.

You know that book “How to keep your man satisfied in bed” that you always hoped Mrs Paul would read (but never did)?  How satisfied would you have been had she not only read that book – but read it every time in bed – every time there was a bit of “satisfying” in the air?  How passionate-connecting-loving would that be if every time (and for ever more) your “satisfying” was by the book – the book Mrs Paul thought you loved so much she had to bring it to bed every time – every time!

Just like the bible …

You would never have known me in the batmobile – never meandered that fairground – that couch – that bed – all the other moments when we connected in the moment without a bible in sight – without any fearing or worshipping or praising – and most especially without any sin at all.  Not a speck of sin.  Nor a drop of blood.  Not a convicted or sanctified to speak of.  Just love.

That word which you and I both prefix with “unconditional” to remind others that love is unconditional or it is not love at all.

Do you really think I get stressed about one date in the calendar?  That I insist that if you do Christmas you are not a proper believer?  Do you think that I think there’s such a thing as a “proper believer”?  Isn’t that the same as a “good Christian”?  Does any of that matter to me?

But this … ?

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This I like.

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