Getting it Badly Wrong

Reading through my last few posts I became very aware that I extended criticism over matters which should not trouble me. And that such criticism is neither kind nor warranted.

If you want to retire from the world, which I most certainly do, then you should at least be gracious enough to let other people get on with their lives in the way they choose. Without offering frequent and unwarranted adverse comment.

There are a number of things in the human world which infuriate me and yet I should be big enough and forgiving enough to simply ignore such irritation.

If I wish to be a better person then it is foolish to harbour ill feelings about the behaviour of others. It is unjustified, unwarranted and harmful both to myself and to the victims of my ire.

My frequent rants against the “religious” are largely a result of visits to evensong at my local High Church C of E establishment. Which I do solely to hear their superb choir and to indulge in the beautiful words of the Book of Common Prayer.

The Vicar, while doubtless well meaning and good, does specialise in the sort of behaviour and mannerisms which I find less than helpful to my invariably irascible mood.

The sermon (which I usually avoid by quietly slipping out down a side isle) is invariably depressing. And delivered in that oh so Church of England pious mode. A quiet and dismal voice tells me that the world is terrible and that we are all so sinful and have been ever since the mythical Eve was dumb enough to eat from the tree of knowledge. And many of my fellow “worshippers” are equally pious and oh so humble. Even if away from the sacred portal they are guilty of the most heinous sin. Like so many of those good priests unable to resist the lure of each other or the under age pupils supposedly in their care.

We are then treated to a series of ghastly readings concerning an insane and vicious old testament god who does his best to make his people’s lives a misery. And we are supposed to see some relevance to our own lives and the condition of our awful species.

I can take much of the Gospels and get meaning out of it. The Sermon on the Mount being top of the pops.

But Acts and all the dreary Epistles simply don’t get my vote. A bunch of simpering crackpots telling me not to shag other people’s wives’ for the most part. Who are asinine enough to get themselves put down by the authorities for peddling their depressing drivel.

But there I go, making the same mistake yet again.  Just because “worship” doesn’t get my vote there is no cause or justification in mocking others who quite sincerely take all that tosh as “gospel”.

And so it goes on. Wokeness is something I particularly dislike. I am supposed to embrace 64 different genders and call people “them” or “they”. Or it. Or something.  I am supposed to rejoice in sexual variety I have no experience of and sing that I’m glad to be gay. Unless I grow or graft sexual organs other than those I was born with I am unworthy to read the Guardian or join the Labour Party.

I must wring my hands in anguish and pay out vast sums of money all because some ghastly people several hundreds of years ago used fellow humans as slaves.  Horrible but that was then. And in any event, since the practice continues, let’s stop it now rather than whining about what happened hundreds of years ago.

Oh, and then there is a current religion which is growing like billyo which I’m not supposed to mention except in tones of admiration and quiescence. Despite the fact that what was once something very fine indeed has become a hideous instrument of terror and repression in the hands of politically inspired madmen. Whose most extreme adherents treat women as fifth class citizens and who beat and rape and torture all those who disagree with their savage and backward law.

Hmm…what else do I loathe and despise about the world. Well, most of it I guess. Or rather anything which touches on the human race.

I’m very happy with birds and bees and butterflies and natural beauty.

But there you see is my error. I am allowing my own likes and dislikes to make me into something just as unpleasant and unacceptable as those that I criticise.

It’s a human failing of course but one that must be overcome if one wishes to live up to one’s ideals.

I have often stated that I am not as such a “good” person and that becomes only too evident when I look at my own attitudes and behaviour. But at least I recognise it as wrong. Which must surely go some way to redress the balance in favour of my fractured and imperfect soul.

Note to self: “Must try harder”.

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