Religion, yet again!

I'm sorry I keep dragging this up. This time, no funny pictures.
Reading the Daily Mail, I was incensed when I came across the Saturday Essay. The title ran thus;

"As the film comes to Britain, the

insidious cult of The Da Vinci Code

MUST be refuted..... or the Church

may never recover its authority"

That being the case, bring on the cult of the Da Vinci Code I say!

As soon as I saw the title, I knew it was going to be another "back to Victorian values" effort by A N Wilson.

Wilson should, in the ordinary course of events, be ignored. His prostletising, especially where religion is concerned makes me sick. He says that he has always been a christian, which I don't doubt, but when christianity didn't suit his beliefs, he changed horses mid race [he was C of E then swapped to being a catholic]. I liked that. His church, by keeping up with reality, let him down. So he jumped ship.

Now, he is worried that "people", by reading some rubbish in a book, may possibly believe that it is true, and it could have an impact on their everyday life.

Shit Mr Wilson, that's what you and your religious ilk, are doing with the bible.

What angered me most was the bit about the church losing its authority. About bloody time too! I have never understood why religious "leaders" and religious organizations should be able to influence day to day life.

Take for example the recent debate on the new Gaming Bill [for those of you in the US, that means a proposed law]. Religious leaders were up in arms about it. What fukin' business is it of theirs?

Why should an outfit that is so factionalised and whose whole tenet is based on a two thousand year old fable, be able to hold such sway on the lives of people who neither have, nor want, anything to do with them?

The answer is that they shouldn't.

As he was astute enough to notice, church attendance had dropped massively. What he doesn't say is that it's done so because most people have realized that it's just a way of parting you from some of your money and getting you out of bed on a sunday morning. Other than that, it's a bit like King Arthur of Santa Claus. You reach an age where realization dawns and suddenly you instinctively know that what you once held dear, you now know to be utter tosh.

How old will A N Wilson be before this realization dawns? Until then, us silly bastards who buy the Daily Mail will have to put up with the crap that he writes.