Saturday, July 25, 2009

Campaign to Repeal the Campaign to Repeal the Blasphemy Law

http://blasphemy.ie/2009/07/23/campaign-to-repeal-the-blasphemy-law/
..... Campaign to Repeal the Blasphemy Law ... please sign up and show your objections to the Catholic Church attempt to re-take control of Irish Law

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Blasphemy Law

http://www.rte.ie/news/2009/0723/crime.html .. Ireland now medieval state .. catholics/dead-jew-worshippers see this as step forward
I call upon all right minded Irish men and woman to actively break this new Catholic State Blasphemy Law as a protest against gov. bigotry

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Pan-terror-alert-epidemic Sketch

Four men in a room, having coffee, sitting in a bored hush. For a few moments they sigh and yawn out of tediousness, then one of them breaks the silence.


Frank.
I see the terror warning is up again.
Bobby.
What too?
Frank.
Oh five … or maybe even six.
Stephen.
Six!
Keith.
Six, isn’t that when all public transport is in danger of being blown up by terrorists or meteorites or something?
Frank.
No six is black death outbreak or mass shoe bombings in out of town supermarkets, seven is in danger of being blown up by terrorist or meteorites … and poison in supermarket foods.
[silence, they all swig a drink]
Bobby.
What kinda foods?
Frank.
Ohhh you know eemmmm, everyday things, that most people would use, I suppose the terrorists or separatists or whatever want to kill as many innocent people as possible.
Stephen.
So …Tea! would be a good one.
Frank.
Yes I suppose it would, [snorts a laugh] good job this is coffee.
Keith.
Coffee would be a good one too.
[all four stop drinking mid-sip, place their mugs down and push them away in disgust]
Frank.
I think I’ll have water.
Bobby.
I heard you can get bacterial infections from tap water.
Keith.
And the fluoride can give you brain rot.
Stephen.
What! You can’t get brain rot form tap water!!
Keith.
My mate Phil got it, …. now he thinks he’s onion.
Frank.
Actually I’m not that thirsty.

Bobby.
I had a glass a few minutes ago!!
Frank.
How many minutes ago?
Bobby.
Ten, fifteen.
Keith.
Oh I wouldn’t worry, it’d have effected you by now, or killed you outright.
Bobby.
What!?
Stephen.
If it was a mutant strain, lethal those mutant stains, have you not seen X-men!
Keith.
Oh yeah, if it was mutant strain it might liquefy your organs first, then kill you.
Bobby.
How long would that take?? I mean, when would I notice?
Frank.
Ohhh two hours. Tops.
Keith.
More like one and half.
Stephen.
You’ll be lucky to see out the day after that glass of water mate, I wouldn’t have risked it.
Bobby.
Jesus! I’m going to die.
Stephen.
Yeah, I’d say 75% likely.
Frank.
You might just be isolated for the rest of your life, so you don’t infect others.
Bobby.
Shit!! I’ve got a date with Carol on Tuesday.
Frank.
Don’t panic, we’re all still more likely to be killed by terrorists than poisoned by chemicals in the food or water.
Bobby. Stephen. & Keith.
Really!
Frank.
Yeah.
Bobby.
You’re not just saying that to cheer me up?
Frank.
Yes, we’re all for it you know, they’re everywhere. Militant sects of Islam, Christian Pro-life extremists and ‘animals-are-people-too’ revolutionary armies.
Stephen.
Even the Isle of Wright republican separatists.
Bobby.
Or the Isle of Wright Sectarian Loyalists.
All.
Emmmm. [in agreement]

Frank.
Oh yes, they could be targeting this building as we speak.
[all four look nervously around]
Bobby.
Holy shit, a sniper could take us out at any time, we’re sitting ducks.
[Dives under the table]
Keith.
He’s right you know, we’re wide open for an RPG, … whatever that is!
[All four now go under the table. Silence]
Frank.
Something just occurred to me. What if they fly a plane into this building?!
Bobby.
Yeah, like they did it that movie.
[The others looks at him questioningly]
‘The plane that flew into the building’, it was on last night, it was in black and … ohh you mean 9/11!!
Frank.
I don’t think this table will protect us.
Stephen.
He’s right, Ikea didn’t designed this baby to withstand a fully laden 747.
Bobby.
What about an empty 747?
Stephen.
Probably much the same.
Frank.
Right then, in light of a certain attack by animal-loving, Islamic Christian separatists …
Stephen
… From the Isle of Wright!
Frank
Yes. We need a plan.
Keith.
We could panic.
Frank
Panic, by God he’s got it.
[They all scream and get to their feet running around like headless chickens bumping into each other.]
All.
Panic!!!!!
[after a moment]
Stephen
Wait … wait … wait … Let’s think about this a second, why would an extremist terror group fly a plane into a sewage works cafeteria?
Frank
He’s right.
Bobby
Yeah!
Stephen
That’s a fair point, that and we’re in the second basement.

Frank
Oh yeah.
[They all sit down again, dejected]
Bobby
What is bird flu anyway?
Keith
Well, it’s a flu that you get if err … you’ve been within ten feet of a bird.
Frank
Ten feet!
Keith
Maybe wingspan then.
Stephen
Would that include chicken wings
Frank
I wouldn’t eat em.
Bobby
What about this swine flu then, they don’t have wings?
Keith
I read in the ‘what to do if you’re inflected with swine flu’ information leaflet that you can get it form kissing pigs.
Stephen
Really?
Keith
I think that’s what it said.
Bobby
What about bacon?
[Bobby gets up and walks to stage side, he exhibits the symptoms described by the others]
Frank
Yeah, I heard it can be transmitted from pigs to humans through pork sausages.
Bobby [to himself]
Sausages!
Frank
Bloke down the road from me, knows about these things, said you can start acting like a pig, oinking and all that.
Stephen
And claw around on all fours.
Keith
Yeah and wallow in mud until the germs from the mud make it worse and you have AIDS too.
Stephen
Lying on your back, with your legs akimbo, helplessly dying of … AIDS and swine flu and … and … and that disease that turns you into a living tree.
Frank
No hold on, now that I think of it, all those are the symptoms of pink-frog fever.
[The three notice Bobby lying akimbo on the floor beside them]
Keith
What on earth are you doing Bob?
Bobby
I had two slices of bacon this morning.
Frank
Don’t be ridiculous, sit down.
[Bobby sits down]
Bobby
I’ll be alright so?
Keith
You’ll be fine.
Stephen
Noting to worry about.
Frank
No need to fret old pal.
[They resume in the positions they started off in, a silence]
Keith
Unless of you have a heart attack brought on by the cholesterol.

{blackout}

END

Friday, July 17, 2009

Blasphemy Laws Sketch

John is relaxing in his sitting room watching the football; his team miss an open goal and he screams out
“Jesus Christ! I could hit that with my eyes closed, for God’s sake!!”

The doors bursts open and the windows implode, special forces-like men suddenly surround John, but they are not carrying guns, instead they are armed with crucifixes and bottles of holy water. The men, in black military attire, are also clan in priest’s collars.
“On your knees!” screams the Leader of the God-squad.
John, in shock, drops to his knees.
“Now, hands together and don’t you lace those fingers boy, I want to see palm on palm action,” adds the Leader.
“What going on?” asked John, clearly shook up.
“Should I zap ‘em Father?” asks an acolyte.
“Yeah give it to him.” replies the leader.
“Nooooo.” John expects to be shot but acolyte drenches him in holy water from his bottle.
After realising he’s not being riddled with bullet but rather water John looks up and says, “What the Hell is going on?”
“Ah he did it again sir, should I give ‘em another zap?” shouts the over-enthusiastic acolyte.
“Careful with that Father, that bottle’s gotta last all day you know.” Leader.
“Right sir, sorry sir.” Acolyte.

John “Are you guys nutters?”
“Are you aware sir of Ireland’s new Blasphemy Laws passed just last night, while no-one was looking,” says the Leader.
“What!” John.
“Let me explain; it is illegal in the State of Ireland to take the Lord’s name in vain,” The Leader opens his reference book, “Did you or did you not speak the Lord Jesus Christ’s name as a blasphemy just a few moments ago?”
“Maybe.” says John.
“Lucky our Swears and Sacrilege detection van was just passing by at the time sir, or you could be in for eternal damnation. As it is you’ll probably get away with crucifixion.”
“Get away with Crucifixion!” says John.
“Don’t start that Monty Python shite with me. Now let’s go through some other suspect activities of yours, shall we sir!”
“All I said was Jesus Christ.” argues John.
“Oh sir, he’s at it again, shall I give him the book.” shouts the acolyte.
“Yeah give him a taste of the book, see how he likes that!” Leader.

The Leader steps back and large Tome is brought forward, John cowers at the site of it and thinks they are going to hit him with it.
The Acolyte opens the book and begins to read like a dyslexic child.
“The words … of Jere…mi…ah, the son of Hi…lki….'ah, of the priests who were in An'…ath…oth in the land of Benj..a…m..in, to whom the word of the Lord came in the days of Josi'…..ah the son of A…mon, king of Ju…dah, in the thir…teenth year of his reign.”

John sits looks complexly perplexed.
“I think he’s had enough.” says the Leader. “Shall we talk about the masturbation then!!?”
“Masturbation???” John.
“Did you have one off the wrist this morning?” asks the Leader.
“What?” John.
“Lost sperm makes baby Jesus cry.” adds the Acolyte.
“Look, you lot are obviously mental, I’m not even a member of the Christian Church.” John
“Heretic!” scream the priests, pointing their fingers down at him. The Acolyte half-hearted throws a few more drops of holy water onto John.
“Stop that.” John.
“You’re only making the punishment worse for yourself,” shouts the Leader.
“Worse than Crucifixion, what are you going to do nail my dog up!!?” John.
“Right,” says the Leader to one of his men, “Get his dog.”
“What!” John.
“Now my son, have you any last words before we cart you away for final judgment.” Leader.
“Yes I have actually.” says John calmly, “Why don’t you lot of religious loonies just FUCK OFF.”

End

Monday, July 13, 2009

Inhuman


Sisters
of the merciless sacraments
brides without consecrations
twisted from their frustrations and their tainted ideology

sexless
genderless
wombless womb-men

secreting their bodies
ashamed of nature
as Eve portrayed or
misrepresented by some Draconian social etiquette
smothering their breasts
sealing their vaginas and stemming the flow of period blood
what better way in their philosophy
to kill the fruit of the sinful apple tree
than let it bled dry
and wither without succession
to wipe clean the guilt of Eve
from between her whorish legs

sexless
genderless
wombless womb-men

There is no God
that would pervert such beauty as a woman
into such barren wastes
as these pitiful things