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Recently unearthed documents from North Africa have brought to light a previously unknown letter of Saint Paul. The text is surprisingly complete, and archaeologists are hailing it as the most important Biblical find of the century. It provides a whole new picture of the problems faced by the fledgling Christian movement, and gives an insight into Paul’s own personality. I’m proud to bring this exclusive excerpt from the newly discovered Epistle To The Condominiums…
11What ho, chaps! Greetings from Paul, an apostle of Christ, to all those in the church at Condiminia, blessings and grace, etc. etc. Hope you’re all well, and that the plague hasn’t caught up with you yet.
2Now, to business. It’s a bloody awkward thing to try and stay on top of so many churches all at once – I possibly shouldn’t have been quite so eager to get things underway in such a lot of geographically distinct cities – but it seems that you, like those damned Galatians, have been doing the whole Christianity thing wrong again. 3Look, it’s really simple. NO false gods, NO shagging around outside of marriage, and most emphatically NO listening to anyone who isn’t me. How do you people manage to screw this up?
4My pal Timothy tells me that he dropped in on your church about a year ago, and he has all sorts of issues with the way you lot are going about the whole worshipping process. What, he bids me ask you, was the deal with those pygmies? Why do you need so much chocolate syrup, and who in the hell gave you the idea of wearing paper hats on a Thursday? Did Jesus wear a paper hat? Did he? No, he bloody didn’t, and I should know, I’ve met him (in a spiritual sense, of course). 5It was given to me to preach the Good News about Christ Jesus, not some chocolate-syrup salesman from Athens, so why you’re paying attention to his cocoa-inspired ravings I do not know.
21It isn’t as though I didn’t give you a straightforward message to preach. Jesus, who was the son of God, but also God, died for your sins, which God (Jesus) decided were too great for him (them) to allow you into Heaven, so he (they) sent his son (him (them)) to be a sacrifice to himself (themselves), thereby expiating your sin and enabling you to reign in glory with God (Jesus) (him (them)). 2Then he (they) sent the Holy Spirit (also God (Jesus)) to bestow upon me and the other apostles the Good News about Jesus (God) (him (them (all three of them (but there’s still only one)))). It’s so obvious, a child could understand it, so I fail to see where you’re having difficulties. 3Don’t make me come over there.
4In other news, Timothy tells you there’s been a spate of unlawful sexual relations amongst the church elders there. 5I don’t care what you do in the privacy of your own homes (that’s between you and Jesus, who is watching you all (yes, I mean all) the time. I’m just saying…), but there’s a certain degree of decorum to be maintained in my in Jesus’ church, and I expect you to buck your ideas up. 6Less screwing and more covering women’s heads in church, please.
31Has anyone there seen my good yellow sandals? I’m sure I had them when I last visited your church. They’re a size 10, with leather braiding on the thongs. I’d really appreciate having them back, if they turn up. Your reward in Heaven will be great, I promise.
2My greetings to shit, sorry, bloody pen ran out. As I was saying, my greetings to Thoetonias and Jethaniel, and please tell Kleptas to keep his thieving mitts out of the offering box. Yeah, Jesus knows, Kleptas. 3That money funds my travel expenses – you nick it, and I’ll be stranded amongst the filthy Romans for months. And that will really piss me Jesus off.
4Yours in Christ, etc.
Paul
PS. I really mean it about the illicit sexual relations. Keep your trousers on for five minutes, you filthy perverts.
PPS. Thanks for the flowers.
Some scholars argue that this epistle does not merit inclusion in the New Testament canon, owing to certain stylistic aspects that do not appear to be characteristic of Paul’s writing. Others point out that some of the detail seems to be anachronistic – the sandal braiding mentioned in Condominiums 3:1 did not come into fashion until at least 80 CE, which seems too late a date for Paul to have authored the letter. However, it has been noted that, since the books of Colossians, Ephesians, Hebrews, 1 Timothy, 2 Timothy and Titus all bear similar aberrant features which throw doubt on their authorship, there’s no real reason not to consider this a genuine letter of Paul. From it, we can gain a fascinating insight into the life of the greatest of the apostles – his shoe size is mentioned in Chapter 3, and Chapter 2 sheds a new light on his theology. Theologians and scholars will likely be studying the book of Condominiums for many years to come.
Some time ago, the excellent Frodosaves presented me with a suggestion – a voter-led review of the world’s cheeses. Instead, I’ve decided to describe some of the different denominations of Christianity using fermented cow-juice as an illustrative medium. Thus I present the Right To Think Guide to Church and Cheese.
The Church of England, is, quite clearly, Cheddar. A workmanlike, everyday sort of a cheese, ubiquitous on every cheeseboard but generally relegated to the background. Virtually every Englishman regards Cheddar as their “favourite” cheese, but if pushed, would probably concede that they just eat it because it’s what their family have always eaten, and it’s pretty much everywhere, woven into the fabric of the community like a slightly sweaty-smelling gymsock. Inoffensive and bland, Cheddar is truly the cheese of the common man.
Evangelical Baptists are more like a Limburger. You know when you’re in a room containing Limburger cheese, as its rancid scent pervades the atmosphere all around. The smell is inescapable, much like the proselytising of a full-on Baptist – no matter where you turn, it’s still in your face.
The regal pungency of Stilton is redolent of the Catholic Church, with its pomp and ceremony. Stilton is best enjoyed in opulent surroundings, accompanied with special wines and biscuits. It possesses, in its intricate filigree of blue veins, a delicate lattice of artistic complexity that dazzles both the eye and the tastebuds, and the overpowering flavour of a fully-mature Stilton can reduce small boys to tears. Thus, I consider the noble Stilton to be a ideal illustration of Catholicism.
The Amish can be likened to an unpasteurised goat’s cheese – made without any technology more advanced than a goat and a bucket. Unpasteurised goat’s cheese has an earthy, rural flavour, but it tastes too strongly of soil and animals for most people’s liking. Nice as a quaint, occasional titbit, taken in passing, goat’s cheeses are generally shunned and ostracised by the mainstream cheese connoisseur.
Processed cheese is more similar to Methodism. Yes, it fulfils your cheesy needs, but it’s bland and unappealing, lacking vitality and excitement. It doesn’t work well with wine at all, and its insipid tastelessness prompt most people to avoid it because it really isn’t any fun to have around.
I’m going to choose kefalotyri to represent the Greek Orthodox Church, partly because it’s obscure, partly because it tastes a lot like certain Italian cheeses, but mostly because it’s one of the few cheeses I know of which come from Greece. Look, this church/cheese analogy thing isn’t very precise, okay?
Mormons would have to be soya cheese – a type of cheese-analogue that bears a superficial resemblance to proper cheese, but is quite clearly made from a very different source. It’s flavour is mild and artificial, and bears little resemblance to the great cheeses from which it claims descent. A rip-off of true dairy products, soya cheese is for people who don’t really understand what cheese truly is.
Any further comparisons of church and cheese would be welcomed – feel free to drop them in the comments. I’ll award a prize for the most apt/original/amusing entry.
From the ever-excellent Neon Bubble comes a list of the bits that failed to make it into the NIV…
Inspired by a recent Metro Blog post, I decided to try the “….. needs” meme. “Yunshui needs” brings up bugger all, but using my real name gives me this as the first entry…
As well as prayer, I also need:
a new home
to set out my plans for Marks & Spencer
to go
a change
fans
and an ambulance
Try it yourself.
Lacking the ubiquitous 20-something male accessory of a games console, I was sorely tempted by Landover Baptist‘s compelling offer:
Accept Jesus and get a FREE Playstation 3!
With a cool modded version of Tony Hawks, no less. You have to admit, their dedication is admirable.
I pottered over to The Garvanian earlier today (good news – Garvan’s taking his meds and has been admitted to hospital for treatment, so he’s finally getting some much needed help) when I spotted this picture in the sidebar:
Now I remember the Chuckle Brothers from when I was a kid (they’ve been around since about 1874), but for a second they looked familiar for a different reason. Then it hit me – earlier today I’d noticed this picture elsewhere:
Who would have thought there were three of them? Mind you, funny as Paul and Barry’s antics are, their younger brother Ray Chuckle takes the comedy cake for such gems as the Argument From Bananas, the Argument From Redefining Terms (“an atheist is someone who believes nothing made everything!”), the Argument From There Being No Crocoducks, the Argument From Just Outright Lying Through My Teeth and the Argument From Darrin Raspberry (not heard that one? Darrin is the unknown (and likely ficticious) “atheist” who wrote the forward to Ray’s latest book – and subsequently gave his soul to Jebus because he saw the light…). Ray, we love you – you’ve brought joy to the hearts of thousands. Now all we need is for you to be hit in the face with a ladder and our pleasure will be complete.
“To me – to you – to me – an atheist is someone who believes that nothing made everything – to you…”
Thanks, Fail Blog!
Almost forgot to mention – if you, like me, are a fan of the sex, you might like to know it’s Sex Week at Frodology. Why not trundle over there and find out all about the squelchy business of Hobbit-centric intercourse?
It seems to make no difference – whatever I put up on the internet, the posts which garner the most traffic for me are, without a doubt, The World’s First Completely Accurate Horoscope. Probably, and The World’s Most Accurate Horoscope (Redux). It’s amazing how often the words “accurate” and “horoscope” appear together in Google searches; and ironic, considering that (and I’m directing this statement to all those who found this page whilst searching for “accurate horoscopes”) ASTROLOGY IS NOT ACCURATE! It is, in fact, completely made up – unlike the predictions below, which are, as ever, uncannily precise…
Aries:
On Thursday, you will lose two fingers to a particularly sadistic trout at your local fish counter. At least you know it’s fresh! On the positive side, Jupiter rises in Pisces this month, meaning that fish-related incidents are highly fortuitous – as you’ll find out, when the trout turns out to be a princess who has been transformed into a fish by an evil wizard! You have no way of turning her back into a human, though, and the bitch just ate two of your digits, so I suggest you pan-fry her with a little herb butter.
Taurus:
A case of mistaken identity will this week plunge you into the shadowy world of international espionage. Try not to lose the briefcase. If you get shot at, remember that it’s your own fault for wearing that stupid-looking trilby. Your lucky light-bulb is 60W.
Gemini:
Look, it’s probably best we try and forget the whole ugly incident, alright? We’d both been drinking, it didn’t mean anything. Besides, at least the staff at the emergency room got a laugh out of it. Let’s just be friends, and steer well clear of the people at the bonsai centre in future, eh?
Cancer:
Due to a glitch in the space-time continuum, this week you will meet a future version of yourself from next October. You’re probably better off asking them about what the future holds, since they’ve actually been there. Fine – ask away. I only spent three days putting your bloody star-chart together, but no, you just go ahead and ask them instead. Ingrate. I’m not going to tell you what your lucky item of furniture is, and it was a really good one, too.
Leo:
If someone bets you that you can’t fit a whole hamster in your mouth this week, don’t take the bet. Trust me, you can’t. I know they don’t look very big, but they’re really fluffy and they wriggle. It’ll end in tears, I promise you. Don’t believe me? Well, if you want to go against the predictions of the stars, alright then. I’ll bet you ten pounds you can’t fit a whole hamster in your mouth…
Virgo:
Mars conjucting with some comet or other means that money may or may not be coming your way. I don’t know how much. Look, it’s not an exact science, alright? And it might not be money, it might be a zebra. Could go either way, really. Or maybe nothing will happen, I dunno.
Libra:
Love is in the air this week, in the form of a toxic green fume. Sometimes I get love and chlorine mixed up – don’t know what that’s about. Probably something Freudian. Anyway, love is in the air, and if you inhale too much of it, it will fuck your lungs up.
Scorpio:
On Tuesday you will get an itch in the small of your back – one of those really annoying ones that you can’t quite reach.
Sagittarius:
The lads at work have clubbed together to throw you a surprise party on Friday night. Of course, I’ve rather ruined the surprise now… They want to say how much they’ve enjoyed working with you, and how sorry they are that you’re leaving. You aren’t leaving? Oh – they haven’t told you yet. Shit.
Er… surprise!
Capricorn:
The disconcertingly serene cultists who knock on your door on Thursday will actually seem to make a lot of sense. You will feel drawn to join their peculiar brand of mysticism, and before the week is out, you will have shaved your head and changed your name to “Shining Moon-Sister”. However, problems will ensue when you meet the cult’s leader, whom you will recognise as the man who put in that dodgy double-glazing for you a few years back. In a fit of pique, you will form a breakaway sect, but no-one will join and you will end up returning to your old life, a sadder and wiser individual. Your lucky sofa is a Chesterfield.
Aquarius:
I couldn’t be bothered to do your horoscope this week. I’m not sure any Aquarians read this blog, anyway.
Pisces:
This is good week for travel, especially overseas. I know, it would have helped to know that a few months back when you were booking your holidays, but there you go. You’ll have to make do with the commute to and from work, instead.
Poor Frodologists. Truly, the smackdown has been delivered unto them, since they are now on Dr “Diploma Mill” Bisconti’s Wall of Shame.
Although they find themselves in the illustrious company of PZ Myers, I can’t help but feel that the Scumbag Websites wall is a lonely place, so in the spirit of humanist camaraderie I present my attempt to join them. Dr “no really, a real Doctor, honest!” Bisconti states quite clearly that “the websites listed on this page drew ‘FIRST BLOOD’”, so if that’s what it takes, let’s sharpen the knives and take our chances… Since the LF Nexus is so frickin’ huge (over a million pages, according to their footer), I’ll just take them one or two at a time.
To kick off with, since I’m both sexy and a martial artist, let’s look at the catchily titled page on Sexual Karate. Sexual Karate, as you may or may not know, is an “advanced defensive science and defensive art, 50 years in the making”, which consist of er… three lines of text. That must have been a pretty exhausting half-century, Dr. Bisconti! Sexual Karate is a surefire way for you moist-trousered sorts to avoid the perils of intercourse.
The three principles of Sexual Karate are as follows:
1. Avoid temptation.
2. If you do get tempted, run away.
3. But it’s okay if you’re asleep.
To arrive at this earth-shaking solution to the problems of human sexuality, Dr. “It’s a honorary title, I give it to myself” Bisconti and his team waded through over 100 million pages of pornographic literature. To get an idea of the scope of this achievement, that means they would have had to look at one porno picture every second, non-stop, for more than three years. They also performed more than 500,000 experiments to test the theory. Bear in mind that they also had to read through ten million books, journals and magazines – assuming they read ten books per day (I can only usually manage one, but maybe I’m lazy), that would have taken them well over 2000 years, meaning that Dr “not a real doctor” Bisconti has been reading anthropology books and looking at porn since before the birth of Christ. Now that’s dedication!
I salute the bold Doctor and his team of fearless octogenarian volunteers for their priceless contribution to the field of human sexuality. Remember kids: Avoid it, run from it, and if all else fails, go to sleep.
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