Battleship grey of hue, the West Yorkshire skies are as dark and satanic as the mills articled in poet William Blake’s prose. Despite it being 9.30am, I’m chronicling these words illuminated by two lamps; beacons whose shift at this calendar juncture ordinarily doesn’t commence until around 9.30pm.
I’m no meteorologist, but I’d suggest today’s cloud cover hints the view being currently playing out afore my eyes is the cliched calm before the storm. It’s foreboding haze I’d envisage similar sky to that greeting Noah whilst loading his ark with animals.
A scene where one of the queuing giraffes would maybe posit “I wish those bloody hippos’d get a shift on!…. Looking at those clouds, it’s gonna absolutely p*** it down any second now!”
Maybe a second great global flood of the magnitude leading Noah to construct his ark is on the cards. God, finally losing patience with this dysfunctional world, sending a colossal water storm to purge most of it’s inhabitants, apart from a righteous family and two of each animal.
The Almighty starting the world afresh. Deeming human behaviour during year 2020’s major events as the straw which broke the camels back….. Although, hopefully the dromedary’s spine will heal in time to take its place on the ark.
Sure, that’s only conjuncture on my part. However, if you do witness a neighbour building a bloody big wooden boat, I’d make nice with them just to be on the safe side. Don’t display any animosity, you may well need an upcoming favour that’ll save your life. Consequently, don’t burn your bridges with the boat’s constructor….. Or, indeed, burn the ark itself!!
I suppose contemporary inclusivity edicts would perhaps necessitate granting ark access to more than two of each animal. I’d guess received wisdom would dictate the latter day Nozza would rightly have to widen his passenger scope, becoming a great deal more inclusive than his biblical namesake. Without wishing to adopt the stance of iconoclast, with his being such as fantastical tale, I often ponder if Noah existed
Actually, do I exist? Or is GJ Strachan merely a figment of my warped imagination. Additionally, if I am guilty of the latter couldn’t I’ve imagined dressing myself more en vogue than donning this bloody awful hoody?!
As I’ve written in the past, yours truly remains open-minded on the topic of theism/deism. To my mind, you can’t make definitive conclusions about a topics authenticity when neither side of the spat can conclusively prove their argument.
I do, though, maintain an open-mind about religion. There maybe a god, however, but in middle-age none of his earthly spokesperson’s utterances have convinced me of that presence. As Woody Allen once said “God is silent….. Now if only man would shut up!”
During my fledgling years, and into my teens, I attended Cromer Avenue United Reform church in Low Fell, Gateshead. At that juncture, and for most of my adulthood, I was certain there was a god. Concluding the wonder of Marmite spread couldn’t possibly have come to pass without a divine creator.
Many existential episodes in the last decade, though, have propagated seeds of doubt about the presence of a Divine Being. One being me finding out Marmite was in fact made by Unilever, after forty years where god had misled me it was him!….. Possibly!