Don’t-Listen-To-That, Listen-To-This! (A Christmas Humbug Hit-list)

When the Titanic sank in 1912, it carried a substantial library, passengers for the use of.

Now let’s just suppose… What if the shelves of that library were stocked with the only copies in existence, of any book or publication in the world? What poetry, novels, songs, music and other what-have-you would you like to be sunk forever in that library? Which excrescences of art do you wish were most definitely not still with us IN ANY FORM, but were instead, justifiably rotting at the bottom of the Atlantic?

As it’s the festive season, allow me to nominate a few Yuletide offerings that really, really, need to go into that timewarp of non-existence- and some replacements....

Fancy using an alternative Christmas Carol?

Our local community had a 'Living Nativity' event yesterday. Loads of people turned up to witness the Christmas story acted out on the streets, accompanied by the singing of carols- and we all ended up back in the church centre to share mince pies, mulled wine, and generally admire the way the donkeys behaved. Yes, we had real donkeys from a local donkey sanctuary. The local children were pretty good, too.

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The Dead Weight (Twisted Bible Stories)

Good grief, the man was heavy. Jude shifted the pole onto his other shoulder, but it didn't help. Ezra was a dead weight, and he was going to be heavy even if you split the load amongst four men carrying him on a stretcher. The stony road was digging into the soles of Jude's feet, and he wished he'd brought thicker sandals. How long had they been carrying him? Jude's shoulders ached with the load, and the others weren't finding it any easier. Why hadn't somebody brought a cart - or a donkey, or anything useful? Jude knew why - because Ezra hadn't bought them for the building company.

He glanced back at Ezra, his stupid old head bobbing up and down with the movements of the stretcher. They were carrying him head first, the miserable old whatsit, so he could see where he'd been, but not where he'd be going (That way, he couldn't try telling them where to go). Ezra was a useless works manager. Just because he'd been longest working with the family firm, the bosses had made him manager of the whole house building project. Him! Jude couldn't believe it. Everyone knew Ezra was a thief except the bosses, who'd been fooled well and proper.

A Strange Experience

A few days ago, I had to go visit my doctor to get something checked out. It was nothing of great concern, but I wanted a medical opinion, so he had a quick look, fixed an appointment to have some more checks, and gave me a prescription. Like I said, it was nothing of great concern, but since the medical advice is always to 'have something looked at', it's what I did... just like we all do. It was all sorted in the space of an hour, and the medication afterwards cost me £8.50. Have you ever stopped to ponder the amazing simplicity of this?

Hunting Grizzly Bears with Mrs PGD

(Artist’s impression)

‘Bearitory’ (as the park rangers called it) was just a few miles from Lake Louise, in British Columbia. After taking a gondola ride up from the valley floor, we’d passed through a heavily reinforced steel gate defended on either side by Jurassic Park-style electrified fencing. And then finally, yes, there we were, walking straight into ‘Bear country’- completely alone Where the Wild Things Are, without a guide, and unprotected. We’re talking about Grizzly bears, here, the real deal. 

Seasick Steve and the Joy of Fakes

I like Seasick Steve. Jools Holland likes Seasick Steve. Glastonbury loved Seasick Steve when he wowed the crowds a few years ago. I mean, who wouldn't love a guy who bummed his way around the USA for years, panhandling for dimes, riding the freight wagons and generally living on handouts- and then somehow started making excellent bluesy hit records?

How to write about Christianity - A guide for perplexed journalists

Thanks to our American friends, 'Faith' (as in Evangelical Christianity) is hitting the news media and being badly reported. Again. Trump is all our fault, you see.

Many journalists, social commentators and other cultural pundits spend a great deal of their time trying to produce instant pen-pictures of global shifts in opinion and events. You might even be one of them. It’s hard, really. Sometimes, Life is just one damned thing after another, the Editor wants it yesterday, so where do you start? In puzzlement, usually. The irritating tendency of world religions to not fade away (as predicted very frequently through the 20^th century) has led many to wonder not only ‘What is going on?’ but also ‘How can I write this piece about religion when actually I know nothing about the subject since not going to Sunday School all those years ago?’ No journalist likes to feel awkward or uninformed.