Wednesday, 28 December 2011
I blog therefore I am
How great it is to go partying and over-indulging in these days of festivities. Hurray for the birth of Christ—He who came to take the sins of the world and hated all materialism. And to celebrate His birth we feast till our guts need gutting even in these oh-so-austere days.
It was also most poignant of the Pope to attack materialism and ask all us Christians to try keeping Christmas holy and not materialistic. As one atheist said to a few other heathens: “Oh God how apt that the king of pomp and glory decries our materialistic ways while dressed to the nines in shining clothes and sitting on a shinier throne and holding a marvellously bejewelled mitre. ”Not sure what the Saviour would do when confronted with such mighty effrontery.
But I rail and rant like an old man. Oh bugger—I am an old man or well on the road to joining the old brigade, the damned geezers who are so so sweet but then forget all the reasons for being sweet. Does dementia still afflict you when you turn up at the pearly gates? If this is so then we and other assorted folk like serial sinners, divorcees, gay paraders and fundamentalist Catholics might scrape through the gates.
When grilled about our sins and fundamental beliefs by the St Peter brigade at heaven’s passport control we might plead forgetfulness when quizzed about our ways on earth. Senility be praised would be the everlasting mantra of the atheists’ union in heaven.
How sad am I to rant on these days of festive fun—and from ranting I went straight to mentioning dementia and dying. This must be the effect of too much food and some extra alcohol. And now that I am blogging I should get myself a less boring quest than just finding fault with all around me and find a few things to applaud.
OK: let’s get back to partying and the everlasting effects of fun. Well the only long lasting effects are on the flab compartment and on the serial killing of our brain cells through strangulation. While eating and imbibing myself into a sweet stupor a great friend of mine introduced me as Malta’s latest bugger. Merriment and surprise gripped his friend—the one I was being introduced to. I perspired profusely. I’ve been very interestingly introduced in my life but bugger really seemed over the top or, more aptly, the bottom. Thoughts of how awful I’m being with this blog raced through my mind—in those few nano-seconds where all is motionless and all is viewed from some high tower of knowledge in suspended animation I promised I must stop blogging if I am bugging people so much…or worse than bugging people.
And this friend who was doing the introducing was hardly a fiend: he is in fact one of my best friends and there was no humour or irony in his face or in his intention. We then cleared it all—the friend had introduced me as a “blogger” so we all sighed a great sigh of relief and you dear reader can suffer on, reading my pieces in this blog.
As one philosopher who came too early in life would have loved to have said, I blog therefore I am (a bugger).