I was watching Survivor on TV this week and during the reward challenge the religious thing cropped up again.
There were two groups, with three contestants per side. The object of the challenge was to release as FEW coconuts that were resting upon a bed of entangled rope.
Each team took turns to remove a rope, with the first team with a hundred coconuts to their score, to be the losing side. Before this contest began, one group joined hands in that endearing Christian way, and prayed for their success. They then named themselves "prayer warriors", now convinced that they had the upper hand. The other team had only one member appealing to God, so she was outnumbered three to one in the power of prayer department.
At this point I have to stress that prayer would have been better directed at the possible removal of the latter's grey steel rug of a mullet. Even I would have joined in prayer for that eventuality.
The "God' team was quite successful in their challenge, and while I can't remember the exact numbers, they had about seven coconuts to the other teams 67 or so. It was obvious to all that their prayer was effective. All the time, either side took turns invoking their God, while their opposite number had their turn pulling a rope.
It was at this point that woman in the "God Squad" confidently announced that it was obvious that God was on their side. She then removed her rope, and lo and behold : 58 coconuts fell like manna from heaven! They lost the challenge and the reward that came with it.
So what point am I trying to make? Well, this happens every day around the world in just about every sport, where you have one team thanking God for their goal or try, or century. I think this is the most presumptuous thing that one can do. What makes you so special that for the duration of the game you are the one that God is looking after. What does the religious person on the opposing side, having given his prayer, silent or otherwise, feel about being the recipient of, by default, God's disfavour?
Are 'normal' Christians not offended by such crass behaviour? If they were thanking God when they didn't do well then it may be a different story, but such people are eerily quite when things don't go their way. Have they ever thought, for instance, that their God may just be saying something like :" WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? ASSUMING THAT TODAY, OF ALL THOSE PEOPLE, YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE? WHAT A CHEEK!" And the bales tumble, and the ball is lost, and the coconuts fall.
People can believe what they like, but isn't there a verse or saying somewhere in that heavy ancient book, that directs against this very thing? It doesn't matter if there is or if there isn't, because it's all open to interpretation, which is what makes it so popular. And no, I haven't just punched the air and pointed skywards in thanks for writing this article. I think I'd like to take the credit for doing that myself, quietly, if you don't mind.
Wednesday, 25 April 2012
Thursday, 19 April 2012
Bad service might make me go Al- Quaeda
For years now I have experienced the worst possible service from Builder's Warehouse, and before it's reincarnation as Del la Rey. They have a consumer complaints department, but who do you complain to about them, when they themselves ignore you? One might ask why I choose to continue shopping there, given my experiences? I have no choice! They have the monopoly in the industry and there is simply no alternative. I could write a book about my bad experiences at this place, but it would make such depressing reading, that I'm afraid it would be banned, for safety reasons.
This has lead me to the decision, that should I ever contract a terminal disease, (which in all likely hood would have been a direct consequence of my shopping experiences) I would take them out.
I would strap the largest, most explosive bomb to myself .(and maybe pilfer some radioactive material from Koeberg Nuclear Power Station for good measure-their security is so lax, no-one would even notice)
For my extra enjoyment, I would drive through the glass front doors, past the security guard who insists on stamping my receipt. There are sometimes queues of people waiting to have their "goods checked", and receipts stamped. You could show him his own death warrant and he would stamp it. They don't have a clue, which is why I stuff everything I purchase into my pockets (if it fits) and save myself the added frustration of waiting yet again.
I would then drive over the help desk, and this would be the only time they've noticed me. I would then continue through the aisles looking for a particular individual, because I know he won't be where his job description says he should be. After that minor speed bump I would stop at my ultimate destination : The Manager's Office. Ordinarily, he wouldn't be there. In fact, you never see him anywhere. Which is why I would have phoned before hand to arrange a meeting at this very point. I would step out of my car and hug him. I would then pull the little cord that would ignite my explosive device. (I chose a cord rather than a button, as it more closely resembles the "flushing" experience I require)
At that very moment when I blow up, a large group of Jehovah's Witnesses will walk into the building. These are the irritating little s**t's that have been knocking at my gate every Tuesday and Saturday for the last ten years. I enticed them there earlier, saying I was finally ready for salvation. How were they to know they were ready too? They could have known, had they listened to WHAT I'VE BEEN TELLING THEM FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS.
This has lead me to the decision, that should I ever contract a terminal disease, (which in all likely hood would have been a direct consequence of my shopping experiences) I would take them out.
I would strap the largest, most explosive bomb to myself .(and maybe pilfer some radioactive material from Koeberg Nuclear Power Station for good measure-their security is so lax, no-one would even notice)
For my extra enjoyment, I would drive through the glass front doors, past the security guard who insists on stamping my receipt. There are sometimes queues of people waiting to have their "goods checked", and receipts stamped. You could show him his own death warrant and he would stamp it. They don't have a clue, which is why I stuff everything I purchase into my pockets (if it fits) and save myself the added frustration of waiting yet again.
I would then drive over the help desk, and this would be the only time they've noticed me. I would then continue through the aisles looking for a particular individual, because I know he won't be where his job description says he should be. After that minor speed bump I would stop at my ultimate destination : The Manager's Office. Ordinarily, he wouldn't be there. In fact, you never see him anywhere. Which is why I would have phoned before hand to arrange a meeting at this very point. I would step out of my car and hug him. I would then pull the little cord that would ignite my explosive device. (I chose a cord rather than a button, as it more closely resembles the "flushing" experience I require)
At that very moment when I blow up, a large group of Jehovah's Witnesses will walk into the building. These are the irritating little s**t's that have been knocking at my gate every Tuesday and Saturday for the last ten years. I enticed them there earlier, saying I was finally ready for salvation. How were they to know they were ready too? They could have known, had they listened to WHAT I'VE BEEN TELLING THEM FOR THE LAST TEN YEARS.
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
Sick society
I prefer to write about things that have some sort of humorous slant to them, but every now and then, the subject renders that impossible. This morning's big news was about a 17 year old girl who was gang raped by seven boys between the ages of 14 and 20 in Soweto. This, unfortunately, is not unusual. Of every five rapes in this country, one is a gang rape. This girl is now missing, having been left in the company of a taxi driver. Not only is she mentally disabled, but it is not the first time this has happened to her. After her ordeal, she was offered two Rand for her silence. All this is sick enough, together with the fact that at this very moment she is possibly being abused again.
What really makes this sicker than it already is, is that the cell phone video taken of this rape, has gone viral. Yes, viral. Even on Twitter, apparently, there has been huge demand for this video to be forwarded. So not only has this poor girl been raped by seven boys, she is being repeatedly raped by the vile voyeurs who choose to perpetuate this crime. The rapists have been arrested, as they made no attempt to hide their identity
whilst filming. This leads one to assume that things like this are normal for them, and the sad truth is that it is.
I believe that in South Korea, a rape investigation which was botched by police, caused such a public outcry, that the police chief was forced to resign. We know such a resignation would never happen here.We also know that the case will be repeatedly postponed, and that the ultimate punishment will be inadequate.
The really sad thing is that some of us will show our anger and be upset about this incident, today.
Tomorrow, another gruesome act will catch our attention.
For us too, this has become normal.
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