Dubai’s great cross conspiracy

A while ago, a guy I know told me that the reason you never see the Burj Al Arab photographed from front on, out at sea, is because the design features the largest cross in the Middle East. That’s why I was surprised to see this shot on the front page of The National, Abu Dhabi’s main newspaper. You can see for yourself, it does look like a cross. But it also looks like the mast of a ship, which is the theme of the design. According to my ‘source’ he reckons it was done on purpose by the architect. Some kind of subversive Christian plan…. Not so sure. For my money the greatest crime perpetrated by the Burj Al Arab is the interior decorating. Imagine Lenny Kravitz and Hugh Hefner set up an interior decorating company. That’s the look they have captured so well. That might be why they don’t let the general public do walk in’s.

Training for the comeback

We are all consumers in god's eyes

Easter Bollocks, Muffin bollocks

All the evidence tells us it is only a matter of time before life forms form another planet make contact. And we need to start thinking about planning for their arrival. This is a complicated planet. Take muffins for instance. Why aren’t they called small cakes? Cause that’s all they are. Is it because if you told your mum you wanted a small cake for breakfast she would clip you on the ear. Did the cake companies get together and decide to create ‘muffins’ as a way of tricking people into eating cake for breakfast?
And what about Easter. What do you have? A guy who was nailed to a cross till he died. A whole lot of bunnies and chocolate eggs…WTF! I understand that what we have here is a hotch potch of different traditions thrown into the celebration blender and given 2 minutes on high speed. But that’s no excuse! We need to sort this shit out otherwise, before you know it, aliens will come and check us out then go home and piss their pants telling stories to their alien mates about our messed up ideas.
I’m not talking about big overhaul, just a reordering of the main ideas so they form some kind of theme. You know the New York artist who did the big chocolate Jesus on a cross. He had the right idea. Chocolate is popular with the kiddies so lets run with that. But bunnies and eggs? Bunnies don’t lay eggs and I think it’s confusing for children. Chickens lay eggs, but they are so boring. In my house we have the Easter Turtles. Turtles lay eggs. Loads of them. I saw it on Discovery. So the Easter Turtle brings you more eggs. Plus they lay them in the sand so it is fun to dig for them.
But where do the chocolate eggs tie in with the crucifixion? When JC rose on the 3rd day did he ask for eggs for breakfast? Could that be the link? And they just made them chocolate for the kiddies. Why can’t you get chocolate crosses? Because of Vampires I reckon. You approach a Vampire with a chocolate cross who has a sweet tooth, then all he has to do is take one bite and it aint a cross anymore. I imagine that is one of the main reasons chocolate crosses have never taken off. Also melt to fast to make wearing them around your neck an option.
There are crosses on the buns. That makes sense. Hot and cross. Much the way Jesus must have felt when he realized he was going to have to take the rap for our sins. The bread is a nice tie in with the bread from his last supper although they had that with wine so it probably didn’t have raisins in, like hot cross buns do. Speaking of raisins… they look a lot like rabbit poo. Could that be the bunny link we need. Now if we can find evidence that they used colourful tin foil 2000 years ago we just might have cleared this mess up.

Naivety. The birth of christ.

M – You took your time. Lets get up to the room I’m knackered.

J – Well, there’s a bit of a problem.

M – Problem? What do you mean problem? It’s late, and my bum is sore. This saddle you made is rubbish. What do you mean problem?

J – The Inn is full.

M – Full! Really. Well I wonder if that has anything to do with the fact there is a fricken census on and everyone has returned home to this poxy little town. ‘Book a room’ I said. ‘The place will be full’ I said. But Oh no not you. Not Mr ‘Hey it’s my hometown they’ll have a special room set aside for me’. So what are we supposed to do now? Turn round and ride home?

J – Well no. They can fit us in. They said we could stay in the manger.

M – Manger? What’s a effin manger?

J – Over there.

M – You’ve got to be joking. That! It’s a fricken stable! Do they call it a manger so they cant rent it out to suckers like you.

J – They said we could have it for free.

M – Free! Oh really! How bloody gracious of them. They are letting the PREGNANT WOMAN! STAY IN THEIR STABLE FOR FREE!!!!!! THANYOU VERY BLOODY MUCH.

J- Mary quiet. Someone will hear you.

M – Who Joseph? Who will hear me? Everyone else got here hours ago. You know why? Because they came on horses. Not stupid little Donkeys. And now they are all tucked up safely asleep in their rooms. Which they booked months IN ADVANCE! Oh shit!

J – What is it? What’s wrong Mary?

M – My waters just broke.

J – On the saddle? I was going to sell that when we got home.

M – What did you say?

J – Nothing. How about we get you into the stab… the manger, and get you comfortable.

M - What are you doing with that hay? You expect me to lie on a bed of hay like a pregnant cow?

J - This? I was going to feed the donkey. He’s come along way.

M – The donkey! You were going to feed the donkey!

J – He cost a lot of money. I have to take him back to the rental company in the condition we got him.

M – You are unbelievable. What kind of carpenter doesn’t even own his own bloody Donkey anyway. I’ll tell you what kind. A bloody useless one.
You know this kid isn’t even yours don’t you?

J – Mary, please. Calm down. You’re just tired and emotional.

M – Emotional eh. Well you would you be too if you were having the SON OF GOD!

J – Mary. Please, be quiet. People will hear you.

M – Well I don’t care. I don’t care if everyone knows that I AM HEAVY WITH THE SON OF GOD. And let me tell you something Joseph, when the messiah arrives things are going to change for me. No more riding around on rented donkeys for a start. What do you have to say to that eh?

J – Well I guess the planet could do with a new messiah. I just wish you had told me earlier.

M – Why? So you would have had time to dump me? Immaculate conception freak you out eh builder boy? Can’t handle the idea of havin your missus womb used for God’s work?

J – No. It’s just that I bet the owner of the Inn would have given us a proper room if he’d known. Now lets get you inside eh, here come those three blokes on camels. I’m, sure they’ve been following us.

Religon and booze. And why they wont serve chicken in church.

Where can a sober well dressed man or woman get a drink at 9am on a Sunday morning with other respectable people? Church. It’s called communion and it is served with a snack. But there is a catch. The only booze on offer is red wine and you have to pretend it is the blood of Christ. And you have to imagine that the snack. A small wafer of dried bread, is Christ’s flesh. I was thinking about this because I am working on a book at the moment. The working title is ‘Christianity. The bollocks behind what probably started off as one guy with some not entierly original, but decent and simple ideas about how we can all get along better if we are nice to each other that got twisted and distorted by power and money hungry bastards who took advantage of the fact that man is basically a gullible creature who can easily be controlled by fear…… Yes I realise the title is a tad long. That was kindly pointed out by my publisher. I did it on purpose. That way when I change it they will feel like they had some input.

Anyway. Back to Communion. My parents dragged me along to church on a semi irregular basis as a kid and my early understanding of communion was that it was like halftime at the movies. A chance to have a quick drink and a snack during what seemed to be a very tedious and drawn out process. Kids I noticed were never given a drink or the chips just a hand on the head. When I asked dad why I didn’t get a sip of what I thought was cordial, he explained it was red wine. Even back then I remember thinking it seemed a little early to be hitting the hard stuff. So I wasn’t allowed the wine. What about the chip? Dad explained the chip, which was actually a wafer of bread and was impossible to swallow without the wine to help wash it down. It was only later I discovered the ghoulish back story behind the wine and bread. The wine I get. It’s red. And like xmas morning it is a legitimate excuse to drink booze in the morning. I get it. But the bread thing has always confused me. The bread represents the flesh of Christ but is that really the best they could do? Why not chicken? Isn’t that what human flesh is supposed to taste like? OK so maybe chicken isn’t a breakfast meat. Fish then. Jesus could make that appear at will so it would tie in nicely. And you could serve it cold. Churches could buy it from local Japanese restaurants. They could make it on a Saturday night and leave it for the church people to pick up on a Sunday morning. There would be a problem if there was any left over. Fish wouldn’t store as well as dried bread wafers. But I used to watch with amusement how at the end of communion the priest would finish up the last of the wine in the expensive goblet himself. I noticed he never bothered to gobble up all the left over bread. Funny that. Guess he was more of a blood man than a human flesh man. But perhaps the fish would be more to his liking. He could take the sashimi home each week and have it for Sunday lunch.