Saturday the 10th of December.

“Same again, please

Perhaps you should just leave the bottle.

It’s a big mistake to argue

With a guy who believes he’s right

Deep down inside

I guess there was a time

Before the enlightenment

When it was universal to believe

That there were a few simple truths

Holding everything together

Enough

To keep the power in the hands

Of the guy with the blue blood,

A God-given right to rule

Alongside the priest

With the key to the written word

Who knew the lie of the land

Was flat

The way ahead

Was always in the right direction

It would have been absurd

To believe otherwise

To change minds

Win hearts

Was there ever a truer phrase

When so many continue to believe

Despite so much evidence

Contrarywise.

When does a matter of opinion

Become a fact

If enough people believe

A whole race can be destroyed

Without raising an objection

From the hoi polloi

Who cannot conceive

Of an alternative reality.

God is a concept

Designed to promote

Social cohesion

Tell it to the birds

They will chirp along like a chorus

Of deniers

Pull my teeth with pliers

If I am wrong

Truth be told

If everything is a matter of perception

An atrocity

Is committed every time

The word of god

Is used as a justification

For misanthropy,

Inhumanity

And bloodlust.

It was ever thus.

Just as it is never a good idea

To talk about religion over a drink

In a barroom

Full of righteous souls

With a penchant for retribution

And violent protest

At the thought

Of a world without angels and demons

And never a black swan

To be seen

They insist

As they don’t exist

Until they see one

For themselves.

Perhaps I should say nothing

Just have another drink

Stare into the glass darkly

Utter a pithy remark

Under my breath for only you to hear

Steal a line,

Use God as a metaphor

Whilst watching my ‘p’s’ and ‘q’s’.

It might keep me out of trouble

A little longer,

At least until…last orders

Gentlemen, please.”