judge_mental
The Religious Wrong
Lincoln is infested with right-wing bible-bashing cults.
This one has nothing better to do than stand outside Barclays Bank taking turns berating busy shoppers about their sinful worldly existence.
Metaphysical discourse of any kind should be welcome in this age of bland humanism.
But surely we deserve something a little more up to date than Jesus With A Pitchfork?
Here's a city where people suffering from alleged madness and genuine desperation coming in one direction routinely lurch into the welcoming arms of concerned happy-clappers from the other, usually via some fluoridated pharmaceutical intervention of an SSRI nature. That'll sort them out.
There is something of a problem locally with demonic possession, hearing voices, yes, gabbling unintelligbly, yes. Social Services is holding a corporate review of the situation with a view to establishing a Demon Monitoring Unit with responsibility to the Dept of Xenolalia and Glossolalia at the Peter (As Chairman of the Health Authority I Put Fluoride In Them) Hodgkinson Psychiatric Unit.
Column hectares of Lincoln newspaper letters pages are devoted to dire warnings, complete with biblical quotes, of the influence of Harry Potter on children's desire to get involved in witchcraft.
There's no such thing as a white witch, they opine, evidently hoping for a revivial of popular assent to the existence of a few black ones upon whom they can vent their sexual frustrations.
A good slogan might be: "Down with thongs, in with tongs, out with their tongues." Poor Miss Rowling.
In the midst of this primitive superstitious timewasting, perhaps a sermon on string theory from the local philosophy society would make a nice change from this fantastical question-begging over what God says about you not believing in God.
Unfortunately it meets at the Bishop's Palace, part of the cathedral, suggesting that even the non-shouty metaphysicians have not progressed very much further than their anti-telephone brethren depicted here.
I suspect they chose that venue because the more "normal" godbotherers want to keep a shifty eye on any rival isms that might be taking hold, such is the competition for fee-paying disciples.
Paranoid? But then what is God but a big conspiracy theory?
Worse even, the Bishop's Palace do is actually a philosophy COURSE, where after a brief loss leader event you go and pay quite a large sum to listen to someone else's rather eggy philosophy.
This illustrates the fascinating thing about philosophy - that going on courses about it or even spending years on it at university is acceptable, even admirable behaviour for a human being to indulge in.
But actually HAVING a philosophy, or discussing "reality" or "existence" outside these confines, is a risky, oddball (and in a thudheaded provincial nuthouse like Lincoln even dangerous) thing to do.
At least with these street philosophy vendors you get a free show, and you can take your own eggs if you desire.
Over twenty years this group has dwindled from a peak of about nine, to four.
Due, I suspect, to the group's lack of a proper business plan and a well-defined market niche, the sinful shoppers have failed to flock to this particular version of what Jesus said.
Right wing or wrong, in a battle between mindless consumerism and mindless deism these are the losers.
If only the public wanted a saviour, instead of a saver.
But a few theologico-financial schisms away the Plymouth Brethren are thriving, a sort of inbred, Amish-style, our-children-are-not-mixing-with-the-Devil-yes-that's-you group with their very own computerless, telephoneless, televisionless, outsiderless and doubtless clueless "school".
Where the fruits of their irrepressibly naughty loins are educated about how great it is not finding out about things or meeting other people, except God and his chosen representatives.
Better hide the razor blades on the top shelf, maw.
.
The Religious Wrong
Lincoln is infested with right-wing bible-bashing cults.
This one has nothing better to do than stand outside Barclays Bank taking turns berating busy shoppers about their sinful worldly existence.
Metaphysical discourse of any kind should be welcome in this age of bland humanism.
But surely we deserve something a little more up to date than Jesus With A Pitchfork?
Here's a city where people suffering from alleged madness and genuine desperation coming in one direction routinely lurch into the welcoming arms of concerned happy-clappers from the other, usually via some fluoridated pharmaceutical intervention of an SSRI nature. That'll sort them out.
There is something of a problem locally with demonic possession, hearing voices, yes, gabbling unintelligbly, yes. Social Services is holding a corporate review of the situation with a view to establishing a Demon Monitoring Unit with responsibility to the Dept of Xenolalia and Glossolalia at the Peter (As Chairman of the Health Authority I Put Fluoride In Them) Hodgkinson Psychiatric Unit.
Column hectares of Lincoln newspaper letters pages are devoted to dire warnings, complete with biblical quotes, of the influence of Harry Potter on children's desire to get involved in witchcraft.
There's no such thing as a white witch, they opine, evidently hoping for a revivial of popular assent to the existence of a few black ones upon whom they can vent their sexual frustrations.
A good slogan might be: "Down with thongs, in with tongs, out with their tongues." Poor Miss Rowling.
In the midst of this primitive superstitious timewasting, perhaps a sermon on string theory from the local philosophy society would make a nice change from this fantastical question-begging over what God says about you not believing in God.
Unfortunately it meets at the Bishop's Palace, part of the cathedral, suggesting that even the non-shouty metaphysicians have not progressed very much further than their anti-telephone brethren depicted here.
I suspect they chose that venue because the more "normal" godbotherers want to keep a shifty eye on any rival isms that might be taking hold, such is the competition for fee-paying disciples.
Paranoid? But then what is God but a big conspiracy theory?
Worse even, the Bishop's Palace do is actually a philosophy COURSE, where after a brief loss leader event you go and pay quite a large sum to listen to someone else's rather eggy philosophy.
This illustrates the fascinating thing about philosophy - that going on courses about it or even spending years on it at university is acceptable, even admirable behaviour for a human being to indulge in.
But actually HAVING a philosophy, or discussing "reality" or "existence" outside these confines, is a risky, oddball (and in a thudheaded provincial nuthouse like Lincoln even dangerous) thing to do.
At least with these street philosophy vendors you get a free show, and you can take your own eggs if you desire.
Over twenty years this group has dwindled from a peak of about nine, to four.
Due, I suspect, to the group's lack of a proper business plan and a well-defined market niche, the sinful shoppers have failed to flock to this particular version of what Jesus said.
Right wing or wrong, in a battle between mindless consumerism and mindless deism these are the losers.
If only the public wanted a saviour, instead of a saver.
But a few theologico-financial schisms away the Plymouth Brethren are thriving, a sort of inbred, Amish-style, our-children-are-not-mixing-with-the-Devil-yes-that's-you group with their very own computerless, telephoneless, televisionless, outsiderless and doubtless clueless "school".
Where the fruits of their irrepressibly naughty loins are educated about how great it is not finding out about things or meeting other people, except God and his chosen representatives.
Better hide the razor blades on the top shelf, maw.
.