Londoners Life 7 by Phil Ryan

The recent London attitude to bad weather has been weary fortitude. Usually it’s rain. But more recently add to this mix – Tube strikes. Tube breakdowns. Train breakdowns. Student protests. Council cutting back on bad weather provision. Freezing cold. And then to cap it all. Snow. Look at the London news and it’s a repeat of every other year. Fed up people complaining. The train company did this. Or more accurately didn’t do anything. Nothing works. Where’s the grit? It’s part of the London cycle.

We just repeat the same problems. My more surreal moments in the inclement weather being watching an elderly man on skis in Hampstead High Street. Calmly floating down the pavement he looked very determined. And so did the small dog he was using to pull him along. A spaniel. But my favourite being a miserable looking bus driver repeating in a monotone “Snow off your shoes please” to every passenger. This elucidating a frenzied procession of semi Flamenco moves from a bunch of cold people who just wanted to get on and sit down. It looked like a street dance off with shopping and elderly people.

But it’s Christmas now. The race begins. Buy. Buy. Buy. And all the local papers go into charity mode. Good causes. Smiling old age pensioners in hats. Cheery looking homeless people grinning over a bowl of soup. It’s so very Victorian. And so very London. The TV is straight on it. Out come all the Dickens analogies. It’s as if the presenters can’t help themselves. “And here’s a real old curiosity”” It’s a bleak house tonight” and one that made me choke during a report on a local council closing a toddlers club “The spirit of Christmas present lost in a scoogelicious committee decision” Scroogelicious! And then comes that unique London traditional phenomenon the absurd pre Christmas sales in the posher shops. Items such as a Swarowski encrusted hot water bottle or a platinum apple phone. Slashed from mind numbing prices to surprisingly staggeringly high prices. Who is buying this stuff? I thought there was a recession on? But the London Christmas rolls on. It’s party season. You can tell by the tents set up in Leicester Square to deal with the incoherent drunks paralytically spreading the yuletide cheer. I think we should wait until they’re completely unconscious and then stick them in air freight containers so they wake up in say Bolivia or Morocco. Watch the drinking statistics drop away!

But food and drink feature large in a London Christmas. The major restaurants falling over themselves to do deals. The Evening Standard is full of coupons suddenly. Who cuts them out? It must be very difficult to go on a date with someone who surreptitiously starts sliding coupons under their credit card come bill time. Not really giving the right impression. Hi I’m sexy but very cheap. But the 2 for one offers often come with a sting in the tail. The good stuff never seems to be included. And then when you do stray from the deal it sends the price into the stratosphere. But that is the London way. Just like the Traditional German markets that suddenly seem to be appearing everywhere. Londoners just accept the fact that a load of fake alpen huts will start springing up on every corner. Bratwurst. Hot wine. Weird looking ginger bread. All to the accompaniment of brass band music. They have a thing called Winter Wonderland at Hyde Park with a huge German fair. And it’s a mixture of baffled looking Japanese tourists uncertainly smiling unsure whether they were tricked over the war and hardy Londoners braced against the cold munching on surreal looking sausages in rye bread that has the consistency of an elderly carpet tile (and a similar taste I might add) all secretly longing for a bacon sandwich. But it’s Christmas in London which means anything goes. Apart from Christianity. This is a no no with most London councils. I saw an article with some Council leader who seemed confused at the concept. He thought it was an economic opportunity with a holiday attached. The Christ and religious bit clearly passing him by. Hence that horrendous Winter Festival concept put about by the more moronic ones. Even though they all get the cast of East Enders in to turn on the Christmas lights. Huh? But they’ve figured out that upsetting Christians is easy – they’ll just turn the other cheek. The most radical things some local Christians round here did was to sing a load of Carols outside the Town Hall. How vicious was that? God bless them. Or as my local council would put it. Winter bless them.

Oh yes just a quick update on my human signs. They’ve now got them dressed as furry animals. Quasi Disney Characters. With holly and tinsel stuck all over them! They still have Golf Sale and Cheap Computers written all over them but it’s nice for the children. And very confusing. Goofy clearly reduced to sidelining in cheap Golf equipment since his falling out with Mickey they must suppose. Anyway finally after the shopping then comes the final Christmas ritual. The big get away. In London we head for the airports and the streets fall silent. It’s a very odd time. The usual rush and whizzing around replaced albeit temporarily with a brief period of tranquillity. I tend to stay to enjoy the peace and once everyone else comes back then I leave. The prospects for the New Year a bit uncertain this time. The austerity year I heard it called. I chatted to some people in a café the other day and asked them their fears and thoughts about the coming year and all the cuts. I listed all the things that were going to be closed and cancelled. They all shrugged. So what they said. And ordered another latte and biscotti. Denial. No. It’s a London thing.

Well that’s it for this year! Merry Christmas to you all. And here’s crossing my fingers for 2011. So whoever they may be – may your God or non belief go with you.

Regards Phil

Al-Qaeda – the New Christians by Ian Hare.

Human memory is a fragile thing. Experiences of a lifetime shimmer and blur with the passing of the years. Embellished and edited, sometimes fiction can completely replace fact, even in our limited span.

So why is it that roughly a third of the world’s population place their faith and actively worship on the basis on a 2000-year-old adventure story? Especially one that has been rewritten countless times to suit the individual author’s needs.

The Bible. Missionaries have sought to drive its message of the one God into the ‘savages’ of the world, believing that their own centuries-old ways of worshipping were pagan, only fit to be trampled and discarded to make way for the Truth.

Given the message of Brotherhood, wars have been fought, lost and won over its words. And even the Christian churches have been split into factions over the interpretations contained within its pages.

It’s difficult to understand why this is. The Old Testament reads like the collection of Brothers Grimm style folk tales it is, handed down over countless generations. And the New Testament? Either the greatest edit – or PR spin job – there’s ever been.

There’s no reason to doubt the existence of a carpenter’s son named Jesus. In the context of the Roman Empire, it’s plausible to imagine the rise of a charismatic, eloquent speaker, capable of inspiring and influencing a great following.

Given the growing threat to their governance in the Middle East, it’s equally credible that Pontius Pilate, perceiving the growing discord, authorised the crucifixion of the man to snuff out the threat of uprising.

So begins 2000 years of Chinese Whispers.

Whether by accident or by the design of dedicated disciples – allied to constant retelling or rewrites – the story of the life and death of Jesus has taken on mythical proportions.

It’s understandable why the great executed leader could not be allowed to die along with his dream. What better way to keep the fire alive with a convenient resurrection, explained away by elevating the status of the man to nothing less than the Son of God?

Interesting then, that churches have continuously glossed over Joseph and embraced Mary’s virgin birth, courtesy of the Holy Spirit.

Frankly, it’s difficult to think of another anthology with so many contradictions, plot holes and loose ends.

The truth is that extraordinary men can ignite a fervour and passion in ordinary people. The simple, but unpalatable truth to many Christians is that while Jesus Christ was such a man, he was just a man.

Two millennia on, Tony Blair and George Bush reportedly prayed to God together before launching their crusade as the War on Terror.

Meanwhile, a man called Osama Bin Laden continues to fan the flames of revolution in thousands in the Middle East, with the Western powers cast in the role of Rome.

One can only condemn the atrocities committed in Bin Laden’s name, but if these events had happened 2000 years ago, with the distortion of time, it’s ironic that Al-Qaeda may well now be the new Christians.