Saturday, September 18, 2010

Sunday Scribbles L

So. The criminal leader of a multi-national crminal gang is in Britain. The British tax-payers, most of whom are neither criminal nor Catholic, are being hit with a major bill for hosting the filth-encrusted old reprobate. They have to, apparently, becausde it's always a good idea, politically, to grovel before superstitious fraudsters.
Not that the leader of any church has to be superstitious. It probably pays if they're not. let's face it: if they actually believed the swill they spout, their consciences wouldn't allow them to carry on pulling the metaphysical wool over the eyes of their flocks.
Have you noticed how many religionists insist on referring to their followers as a "flock"? As in sheep? As in ineffably stupid creatures that will follow any leader, yea, even unto the slaughter-house? To be fleeced?
I had to laugh, though. The evil old child-rape / child-porn conspirator had the unmitigated revisionist gall to say that Britain had led the fight against the Nazis, who, he claimed, had tried to drive God from Europe.
Well, Britain did lead the fight against the Nazis. He got that right. What he didn't say was that the Nazis operated with the full and unstinting support of the Vatican... led by its infallible Pope.
I acknowledge there were a few Catholic priests, bishops, and nuns who defied the Nazi hierarchy, and the dictates that came from Rome. But they were notable for their scarcity. The churches could have defeated the Nazis. Instead, they either cowered in their musty corners, acknowledging that their god was powerless, or gave wholehearted support to the machinery of evil.... thereby proving that their god had no power.
The sooner the civilised, pluralistic world withdraws its recognition of the Vatican City as a sovereign nation the better. Then the Italian Police can take Ratzinger off to face a jury, and let the sword of blind justice cut where it may. Actually, we should all simply refuse to recognise any theocracy as a sovereign nation. Be interesting to see where Israel falls on that.....
Have I mentioned, by the way, that I'm not a fan of the Pope? Or of organised religion?
Listening to: Jethro Tull, "This Was". The second album I ever bought.
Reading: Kage Baker, "Not Less Than Gods". Nice - steam-punk meets the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Which was steam-punk anyway, but I hope you get the idea.
Link to follow:
More "Paper Heroes":
It was thought that a 500 year life expectancy would soon be attainable.

Of course, the spasms of death and madness had lowered the average figure. But, somehow, it was easy to not dwell on that.

For a people who have allowed their emotions and thoughts to be policed by molecule-sized machines, suicide is often the last shout of individuality and rebellion. Naturally, assisted suicide is an impossibility: to do harm to another is so taboo that the embots rarely have to intervene.

The six Sleepers are charmed by the city. The air is fresh and clean, the streets and boulevards wide, clean, and uncluttered; the shops offer mysterious goods and products; and the twin harbours sparkle under the spring sunshine. Yachts and powered pleasure craft tack and turn lackadaisically, cars, buses, and transport trucks flit by almost soundlessly, small aircraft hum quietly across the clear skies.

There are few buildings taller than five levels. One, an ancient communications tower in the city’s centre, is being refurbished with an artificial skin of monomolecular carbon: a suit of diamond. In the harbour, Rangitoto, a managed volcano, vents steam and lava continually. The island volcano had wakened less than 150 years ago, causing a minor flurry of excitement: some windows had cracked with the initial earth tremors, and it had taken the local authorities more than five years to bring the situation under control. Now, of course, it is totally safe, and absolutely predictable. People come from around the world to see the lava pouring into the harbour’s blue waters, to thrill at the sudden explosions of steam, to shriek in horror and concern at the occasional dead, floating fish.

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