By fortunate coincidence rather than design, a post featured on TPQ this morning from Right Wing Watch. It highlighted some US religious fraudster who, because she was unable to swindle people out of their right to vote whatever way they might choose, manufactured the fallacious cover story: “God chose me for a reason. I didn’t lose. I won.” She went on to threaten the winners that they were “gonna have to deal with God.” Trumpian in both logic and authenticity, her excuse as counterfeit as her religion.
Because she might be considered as playing the religious card out of expediency rather than exegesis, it is doubtful if the "spirit" animating her is the same one that sent an unhinged nun into a frenzy of religious fervour on Dublin's O'Connell Street during the week past. The first was inane, the second insane.
Gyrating for Jesus, it looked like the nun was on something, maybe even off something. Flapping about like a decapitated chicken, she belted out Jesus juju and roared, without any harmonising from the Glitter Band, C'mon, C'mon. A habit-clad cheerleader exhorting Jesus to come down from his cross. So entertaining, Convent TV could have marketed it as pay per view, the lead-in of suspenseful music heralding the latest blockbuster: The Penguin, starring Nun The Wiser. Conversely, had Father Ted or The Life Of Brian featured it, the creatures of habit would have been at the Wailing Wall, giving out that their faith was being mocked by blasphemers.
Upon coming across it on my Twitter feed I beckoned to a friend in the same room and invited him to watch the dance of the demented dickie dodger. Somebody had beaten me to it, stole my thunder. News travels fast, ridicule faster.
The GPO is something of a shrine for Irish republicans. So upon seeing the silly sister prostrate herself face down as if she was snorting whatever was on the hallowed ground, I was made to wonder what it was all about. The notion that she was about to undergo a blood sacrifice playfully flashed across my mind. I could imagine one of those scripture squawkers in Henry Street - where they habitually hang out, bible in hand, lying in wait for unsuspecting prey - come running out like Simon of Cyrene with a large wooden cross for her to climb upon, where from a lofty height perched above we mere mortals, she could scream nail me Jesus, nail me.
The sister of swing has since garnered her own following on Tik Tok. In a world of war, climate change and Covid, people grab what lighter moments there are and clutch them like a pearl. Whether they laugh at her or with her, it is laughter. Religious idiocy, her flapping about in the convulsions of Mad Nun's Disease made it all pretty harmless. She is neither going to convert anybody to her brand of Jesus stuff nor sink her fangs into the neck of a passer-by in a bid to drain them of their sanity.
And less injurious by a long shot than throwing the corpses of dead children into septic tanks.
And less injurious by a long shot than throwing the corpses of dead children into septic tanks.
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She wants to save us from what her God will do to us if she doesn't save us.
ReplyDeleteSomeone give her a dose of MDMA or some mushrooms and let her see dawn over Newgrange.
Failing that a bottle of bucky up Cavehill.