Sunday 27 November 2011

Strictly fertility

It would be interesting to explain 'Strictly Come Dancing' as an annual festival of human fertility. The gods and goddesses being there in the guise of the professionals. The celebrities ordained as priests and priestesses coupling with their immortal partners.

Observe how, week by week, the rapport grows between each celebrity and their allocated mentor - how the inhibitions of the mortal world are gradually shucked away as contact between the two becomes more intimate.

And to one side, as on their own particular Olympus, the Four Judges who ritually point the bone toward the chosen ones, the sacrificial victims whose fate shall be determined by distant unseen hands.

The dying deities with their human consorts in the dying season of the year.

francis cameron, oxford, 27 november 2011

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Thursday 24 November 2011

Australia, 1979

Hot Gospels

I was on my way home. The man in Cornmarket offered me a leaflet. It looked to be a religious tract. I shook my head, smiled politely, said 'No thank you', and passed by. As I went, he called after me. 'Jesus loves you.' A challenge.

I turned back and began to question him. 'How do you know Jesus loves me?'. Each answer - more response than answer - led me to further enquiries. He had all the skills of a pulpit orator. Came out with the stock responses. Shining with his own beliefs. Familiar phrases he had picked up from others. Nothing I had not heard before.

Yet no direct answers to my questions. 'You say God spoke to you. How do you know it was God?' Answer : 'Do you believe in Christ Jesus?' Question : 'What do you mean by Do I believe in Christ Jesus ?' Response : 'Except you believe in the Lord Jesus .. ' And so it went on. For several minutes. An interchange with no connections.

It's not that we spoke different languages. Simply that we had different frames of reference.

francis cameron, oxford, 24 november 2011

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