(aka Bike) Part 1482 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad
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I arrived home just after nine and made myself some tea in the hope it would cheer me up and wake me up. Stella noticed my mood, “Why don’t you take that long face for a long bike ride?”
“I’ve got lectures to prepare.”
“Oh, well go and do them, then you can have a ride.”
“Yes, boss.” I poked out my tongue at her.
“If the wind changes you’ll stay like that,” she quipped back at me.
I bent into Quasimodo mode and loped off sideways, saying, “The bells, the bells...” I’m not sure who I was parodying because they were probably dead before I was born, but I suspect it was Charles Laughton. When I got to my study, I called up Wiki and found I was right on both counts–it was Charles Laughton and he died in 1962, before I was born. The film was made in 1939 so before my parents were born. I was brought up with various jokes about the character, like–What swings about the fridge in greaseproof paper? The lunch pack of Notre Dame. I didn’t say it was funny, although as a thirteen year old school kid I thought it was right up there with repeats of Monty Python–my parents thought they were dreadful–the Pythons; and Dave Allen, with his religious jokes, was beyond the pale.
I remembered his joke told in an Ian Paisley voice–a thick, Ulster accent–The Bible bashing, pulpit thumping priest was ranting and raving about the certainty of hell fire for most of his congregation unless they mended their ways, telling them there’d be lots of suffering and the gnashing of teeth. A little old man from near the front pews asked, “What about those who don’t have any teeth?” To which the priest responded, “Teeth’ll be provided.”
I was still sniggering when I picked up the phone on the extension in my study. “Hello?”
“How dare you terrorise an old lady; you big bully?” I was speechless. “Your threats and menace won’t work, you know. I have God on my side.”
Oh boy. I was tempted to ask her to name him as a co-respondent to see if we could sue the church as well.
“I’m not sure that guarantees a winning case in a court. I have conclusive evidence that you hit my car and until you make good the damage, we’ll pursue you through the courts.”
“You heartless hussy, how dare you?”
“Quite easily, you damaged my car...”
“I did not.”
“Don’t tell me it was your evil twin sister?”
“I don’t have a twin sister and I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a retired teacher so a responsible member of the community, what are you except bullies and usurers.”
“I’m a university lecturer, Miss Alcott, so I think I’m quite a responsible type as well.”
“Huh, I’ve seen your sort marching with the so called Gay Pride people–they’re all devils, d’you know that?”
“I thought Christianity was the religion of love?”
“Not the sort of love that dares not speak its name.”
“And which one is that?” I asked knowing the answer full well.
“Homosexuality–you’re not homosexual, are you?”
“Isn’t that an intrusive question about a very personal matter?”
“I knew it, you’re one of those disgusting followers of Sappho, an inhabitant of Lesbos...”
“I’ve never been to Lesbos or know much about Sappho, other than she was a poet.”
“A pornographer–writing that filth.”
“You’ve obviously read it.”
“Of course I have,” she snapped back unaware of the irony of the situation.
“I see, so you accuse me of being lesbian although I haven’t studied the poems of Sappho, yet you have read them and claim to be heterosexual?”
“I am nothing sexual, at all–you young people bring everything down to sex.”
“If that’s what you think, you have quite a shock coming. I’m sorry but I don’t have time for your haranguing me, I have lectures to prepare and meals to get ready for my children and husband. However, when I have time, I shall try to catch up on my missing classical education and read the poetry you mentioned.”
“You’re going to hell, you know that, don’t you?”
“Am I? If it’s full of people like you it will be hell.”
“How dare you, I’m a responsible worshipper. My place in paradise is assured.”
I wanted to laugh out loud, “If that’s what you believe, Miss Alcott, you’re more stupid than I thought–but I’m glad you’ve retired so you can’t corrupt the minds of our babies any longer.”
“How dare, you? You–you heathen.”
“Look I have to go, I have a series of lectures showing that Nietzsche was right, God is dead, and science was the killer.”
“You–you abomination.”
“For a teacher you have very limited vocabulary and even smaller imagination.”
“May the Almighty strike you dead.”
“He tried but was slow on the draw, I got him first.”
“You blaspheming abomination.”
I shook my head, “Look, don’t get so excited–if you have a stroke and die, I’ll put a charge on your estate, so you won’t get out of paying.”
“I refuse to pay you a single brass farthing.”
“I’m not asking for a brass farthing, I’m asking for eight hundred pounds to restore my Jaguar to its pristine condition.”
“Jaguar–ha–you swagger about, flaunting your wealth and persecuting pensioners–you are going straight to hell unless you repent your sins to Almighty God and throw yourself upon his mercy.”
“After you–I suspect your crimes against humanity will take a bit longer than mine.”
“Father forgive them for they know not what they do.”
“Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone; or would you prefer, Judge not lest ye be not judged.”
“How dare you quote the holy scriptures at me?”
“You started it, but I ought to warn you I have platitudes a plenty from the scriptures.”
“You demean even the writings of God and Jesus.”
“If you can give me the evidence that God or Jesus wrote them, I’d be interested in seeing it.”
“Of course they did.”
“In what language?” I was getting into this nonsense argument.
“Hebrew of course.”
“And Jesus?”
“Hebrew, you foolish girl.”
“Jesus spoke Aramaic.”
“He’d have written in Hebrew.”
“Possibly–but as the New Testament wasn’t started until after his death–it’s somewhat unlikely. As a carpenter, he might well have been illiterate.”
“You blaspheme the Lord.”
“Looks like, what’re you going to do, sue me?”
“You’ll pay for this–you’ll go straight to hell.”
“Teeth will be provided,” I said in a broad Northern Irish accent.
“What?”
“Go and take your medication, Miss Alcott, and have a lie down. I look forward in seeing you in court unless you come to your limited senses beforehand. Goodbye.”
I switched off the cordless phone.
“How’s the lecture coming on?” asked Stella.
“It isn’t–that was Miss Alcott on the phone.”
“Who’s she when she’s around?”
“The mad woman who hit my car.”
“Oh the crazy Christian?”
“If she’s what Christianity is about, then I hope Nietzsche was right.”
“What?” said Stella looking blankly at me.
“He was mad too, but I think I prefer insanity to insanitary–and I suspect she was going hard enough to have wet her drawers.”
Stella looked at me for a moment then burst out laughing.
Comments
Bike
I Would comment about this chapter but I don't like types of Miss Alcott and it's bigatry as type causes some bad memories from years ago. Richard
Richard
Non-comment comment?
Richard,
Why would you take the time to comment that you will not comment?
I enjoyed this chapter, but I have a problem with the way Cathy plays into this idiot's delusions. It is no worthy deed to best an old ignorant bigot. I would have preferred that she had been non-confrontational and let the courts deal with it. By going after her in a one sided battle of wits she has just made the senile old biddy that much more angry which makes her that much more dangerous...and Cathy has a lot more to lose.
Be kind to those who are unkind, tolerant toward those who treat you with intolerance, loving to those who withhold their love, and always smile through the pains of life.
repent sinners
I reckon if Cathy stayed on the phone much longer the old girl would probably have had a heart attack ,maybe they will have to go to court to get the money after all.
HUGS ROO
ROO
Ah ...
Ahhh ... the pleasures of religious bigotry and bigots. Always a delight to take issue with them. Never had the pleasure as a kid cos they don't do much religion in Looney Bins or Borstals.
Later on, when I was at sea as a deck-boy and JOS, it was great to occasionally listen to the crazy rants of fellow crew-members about religion. After the old bosun had taken me under his wing one of the first things he warned me about as a young 15/16-year-old kid was never to get involved in arguments about religion or politics and whilst I was that kid, even up until I finally paid off, I hardly ever did.
Anyway I avoided arguments with bigots because being transgendered, I would have set myself up for all sorts of 'Aunt Sally S--t'
Good chapter Angie but my God, aren't bigots a bunch of wankers.
OXOXOX.
Bev.
Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1482
Alcott is not the type of Christian to listen to.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
I Do Battle With People Like Mrs. Alcott All The Time.
Oh, yee of little faith!
Oh, yee of little faith. Be careful of that which thou sayest lest thou partakest.
There - that sound bad enough? All I can say is I'm so very glad I don't have to deal with "thumpers" like Ms. Alcott on a daily basis... I think I might change my mind on what I'd consider justification for homocide...
Thanks,
Anne
You can't rationally argue
with irrational superstitious belief. Cathy should know that. But a recorder attached to the phone would be a good idea in case this nut-case starts getting (more) threatening.
The sadness that is religious (and anti-religious) zelatry
Goddess forbid you do not stand with their view points. There are atheists who are just as hateful and vile too as they look at you for being agnostic and think you are mad and from which rock you crawled out from under.
Kim
What a smalll minded
person Miss Alcott is And to think she passed on her narrow-minded views to receptive young minds .... Thankfully owing to retirement that is no longer a problem.... Trouble is though, People like that always think they are right So maybe the rest of England had better watch out.
Kirri
Ho hum...
I think it won't be long before someone else discovers it's generally not a good idea to get on the wrong side of Cathy. This time, it's a Christian literalist. She probably believes that Jesus' mother never had sex, he was visited by three wise men and an unknown number of shepherds, that he was born in a stable because the nearby inn was full... never mind that most of that isn't even corroborated by the biblical accounts (not to mention the 'inn' is a mistranslation).
Given how rich the languages in that part of the world were in metaphors, it's even possible that a lot of what Jesus allegedly did was written as an analogy rather than literal events - e.g. what's the probability that out of a large group of people following a travelling preacher around, only one would have the foresight to pack a picnic?! Even a cursory glance at theology texts shows how structured the gospels were in their narrative, how convenient the lengths of the genealogies are (incidentally it's Joseph's lineage - yet literalists claim he wasn't a biological parent of Jesus).
-oOo-
While a surface reading of any religious text provides comfort and inspiration to many believers, it's generally a good idea for them to pick their audience carefully before evangelising by quoting chapter and verse that "must be true because 2 Timothy 3:16 says it's God-breathed!"
"Hello Moses, have you got your quill and parchment ready? Good! Now, write this down: 'In the beginning...'"
There are 10 kinds of people in the world - those who understand binary and those who don't...
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
I suspect
the Goddess may be using Cathy on a especially troublesome follower (or whatever). Of course, it could be some other God or Goddess responsible, Angharad has opened up a real pantheon here it seems. :)