Tag Archives: religion

Glenn Miller’s diabolical saxophone

A couple of weeks ago I found myself in a castle on a mountain, reading a text message from my brother.

The news from eastern Spain wasn’t good. My grandfather had been hauling around his prostate cancer for a decade without significant discomfort. But it had spread, to his liver, pancreas, spleen, pelvis, soul, spare bedroom, both rear wheels of his mobility scooter and a tailor who made him a suit in 1995. He was, so said the text message, quite fucked.

And so it proved. One of the best people I’ve known was dead within a week, having held out long enough to be allowed home from hospital to see the cat I now fully expect to be held to account for his murder. I will see you hang, Mimi.

The upshot of this was a funeral.

Continue reading Glenn Miller’s diabolical saxophone

Savouring a spree

On the face of it, 2016 is a great year to be peddling hate.

Ostensibly, the page you’re staring at now like a cow looking over a fence is intended to allow people to vent their spleen at everything from falafel to football via fatwas. Its purpose as I conceived it was to allow people to laugh or rage at life’s many stupidities. People hate a lot of things and there’s unlikely to be a giant jay cloth of joy passed among all 7.4 billion of us to wipe that all away any time soon. Might as well try to make light of it, accept the futility and anticipate the next disaster with a shrug, a pint and another pint.

This year above all should be a great year to write silly rants about what you loveable humans have been doing to each other. And yet here we stand, halfway through what seems to be the beginning of the end, and what I’d foolishly come to believe was my heightened ability to chuckle at even the most heinous event is cracking under the pressure. Civilisation is going stunningly wrong, and I can think of barely a goddamn thing to say about it.

Continue reading Savouring a spree

Paper tower

Why are religious groups fine wasting paper on their shitty handouts? Save humanity, but fuck the planet. Why aren’t they more eco-friendly?

Let’s take the Watchtower as a jump off point. Admittedly, life would be better if the Watchtower were in fact at a jumping off point, such as Beachy Head. But this place is not for wish fulfilment, just the musings of an enraged mind.

At least once a week, I see the acolytes. At the bus stop, at the train station, on my doorstep. Soliciting our pagan souls with their suggestive pamphlets. Do you know what else I see? Their stupid Watchtowers scattered about the streets and pavements. What’s the fucking point? Every God damn week, the streets are littered with them. Surely those good Christian souls will clean up the mess? Of course they bloody well don’t. Fucking inglorious bastards!

Continue reading Paper tower

A month in Marrakesh

I lived in Marrakesh for a while, a few days, minutes or months ago. Time has never really been my strong point. I’m the type of person who says ‘a few days ago’ and that can mean anything from yesterday to when I was a child. Anyway, I went and lived in Marrakesh for a month, just for something to do really, to see if I could break the monotony of life, of which there is plenty when you live in a humdrum village full of pubs and gossips.

I went to Marrakesh during Ramadan. A few people had told me it would be an interesting time to go. I didn’t really know what this meant because any time going to a foreign land should be interesting, right? Basically what interesting meant in this context, as far as I can work out, was that nowhere was selling booze out there.

For people from anywhere other than the UK this wouldn’t be a problem. For us UKians, it’s a fucking nightmare. It’s shit being in a city without booze, especially when you have no idea when the religious festivities are going to be over so you can quench that thirst.

What do they expect us to do? Sit patiently and wait for them to decide that this religious nonsense has gone on long enough? Should they not at least build some sort of medical booze tent in the centre of the city for us sunburnt tourists to go and get plastered in? Perhaps a kebab shop just outside the tent for us to shout at the owners in after a day on the golden nectar. I really don’t think that is too much to ask for, do you? They should really put some sort of system in place for next year before the British tourists in the city begin thinking it’s time to reform the Empire!

Anyway, thanks to my British upbringing, after a few hours of being in the city I managed to sniff out the only place in Marrakesh that was selling booze. There are three supermarkets in the city and of course the one the furthest from my fucking apartment was the only one of the three selling beer. A walk of 2km every other fucking day was in order, to fill up a bag full of beautiful beverages and then walk home in the sweltering 40-degree heat. At least I was sweating out all of the beer from the previous day, can’t hurt I guess.

After about two weeks of this and just as I’d had enough of this walk, finally the religious barrier was lifted. I’m not even religious for fuck’s sake. Ramadan was over, the cafés, restaurants, bars and other supermarkets slowly began to regain their wits and put beer back on their menus. It was like the end of some natural disaster in a film, the dust settling and people emerging blinking onto the streets.

And finally they allowed us tourists to take over once more. Travellers could be spotted climbing out of their holes, dusting off their Hawaiian shirts and swimming shorts and walking into bars where they smiled, laughed and drank merrily. It was a magical time.

What are they thinking taking religious values over money for a month anyway? Throughout the two weeks of Ramadan I was there, I had countless tourists coming up to me asking if I knew where to buy beer. I don’t know why they asked me – perhaps the comfort in my stride lead them to believe that I was half cut. I was very proud of myself as the only bastard in the city to know where to buy booze, at least for those two weeks.

I promise you that I did a little bit more than just drink beer while I was there. I also walked around half drunk, pointed tourists in the direction of the oasis that I had found, got into amazing conversations with Moroccans about their drug habits and my drink habits, and even drank the wine as well. It is fair to say that for the most part I was a typical English tourist for a month in Marrakesh.

The gay wedding cake

I don’t have many phobias, but…fuck, who am I kidding? I have plenty of phobias. I’d make a nice case study for those of you interested in the brains of freaks.

One of these phobias is called musophobia and it means I have a fear of mice. And not like one of those “Ohmigosh I have a mouse in my house, I’d better get a jar and catch it because ew” kind of fears. More like being unable to move for 25 minutes because I just saw a mouse and even though it ran away as soon as it saw my ugly face, I feel like any move will make it come back with an army of little hairy wingless bats desperate to chew through me.

So here I am, at 4am, sitting in my bed, desperately trying not to wet my pants, because I saw a mouse two hours ago and now I’m afraid to step on the floor in case the beast attacks my toes. After half an hour of lying here, trying to regulate my breath and convince myself that no, a thousand mice won’t suddenly jump on my bed and crawl all over my body, I managed to move enough to get the computer from my desk and go online.

Facebook is very interesting at night. There’s only a handful of people online, half of them are drunk and the other half are either depressed or very tired but unable to sleep for various reasons. Also, there’s nothing interesting on newsfeed because, d’oh, everybody’s fucking sleeping in their pest-free homes.

However, after a lot of scrolling (hello, carpal tunnel) I come across an article shared by someone with the title: “The moral of the gay wedding cake row: the law can’t create tolerance”. The description of it says the following: “A Christian walks into a Muslim signwriter’s shop and orders a placard. He says it should carry a cartoon of the prophet and the slogan Muslims Go Home. The signwriter is deeply offended and says he cannot complete the order. The customer is outraged at the discrimination, is supported by the Equality Commission, sues, and the signwriter is fined £500 plus costs. I think most people would find such a saga absurd.”

When an article begins with such a ludicrous comparison, by putting hate speech and love together and saying they’re basically the same, I lose all interest in reading the rest of the piece. So I confess, for the sake of full disclosure, that I only read bits of it.

What I can say is that, for me, religion has no place in this debate. It has absolutely no value whatsoever as an argument in the issue of gay marriage. Law is above religion, period. Sure, everybody is entitled to their own beliefs, but making laws out of said beliefs, laws that millions of people will have to obey, is about as laughable as saying that the legalisation of same-sex marriage will turn more people gay.

Why is it that lawmakers keep religion as their ace in the hole, something to take out and flaunt when it’s beneficial and then conveniently put away when it’s not? A man beats his wife because she showed her ankles in public? Put that fucker behind bars. Where does he think he is? This is the West, we’re civilised here, people are free to show off some skin (although, if you’re a lady, keep your nipples covered, because that’s taboo even for the civilized and progressive Western society; not if you’re a man, though, because your nipples are special and can and should be seen by the world). A woman refuses to take off her veil for a license photo because of her religion? She’s a threat to national security, that freak.

Some old, white, Irish Catholic dude and his wife refuse to bake a wedding cake because it’s for a gay wedding? Well who the hell do they think they are? Oh wait, no. Actually, they can totally do that. It’s their right, because of their religion and their beliefs and… you know, all that freedom thing we have in the West. Sorry, gay dudes/lesbian ladies!

Yes, I’m aware this is not how it happened in this particular case, but it’s certainly the outcome a lot of people were hoping and arguing for. Because, in the words of this little genius who wrote the piece: “Law can’t create tolerance”. Well guess what? Law was just as unable to create tolerance back when black people had to ride in the back of the bus and use the back door to get into buildings. Same when women were not supposed to be in those damn universities, but at home nursing future misogynistic little shits and trophy wives to be. Yet it somehow changed and the world changed with it, because the fun thing about law is that it doesn’t give a fuck about your totally legit reason to break it.

It’s 2015, the world is going through economical, social and environmental crises that need our attention, so the fact that we waste our time and resources to debate the legality and morality of marriage between two people who are in love, based solely on their genitalia, is ludicrous to me. Can you no longer pray to whatever god helps you sleep at night if your male neighbour is touching his dick to another dick? Can you not attend your church on Sundays because there is some woman out there who just ate pussy for breakfast? And should your neighbour marry his boyfriend, will that make it physically impossible for you to breathe, blink, eat, piss, shit, reproduce, sleep etc?

I’ll go out on a limb here and assume the answer to all these questions is “no”. Based on that, I urge you to think of this: there was a time when Christianity was illegal and if you can now exercise your beliefs without fear of being executed it’s only because some people, thousands of years ago, fought for you to do so. Your battle is over. Now let others have their wins.

Ticking the Bundy box

When psychos attack, why the hell do they choose schools? What have those innocent kids done to deserve bullets?

Especially in America, where there’s the KKK for fuck’s sake. At least having a go at them would be a challenge. Although saying that, if you substitute KKK for USA, then the line between what is or is not an act of terrorism becomes kind of blurry, real fucking fast.

Nonetheless, I am neither advocating nor calling for anything that radical. My point is that if humans insist on meddling with the process of evolutionary selection, could they not do it only on subsections of humanity that carry throwback genes to our darker and more primitive past?

It does seem like a group can get away with being little more than a fascist militia as long as they have a flag, officially state the target(s) of their vitriol, lack the ability to move with the social inclusion of the modern times or simply admit to their own stupidity. Just look at Mosley’s black shirts. Oh to have been a fly on the wall during one of their meetings.

“What ho old chap! There’s a new craze sweeping across Europe don’t you know? [Well, I say new, but in truth it was a tried and tested methodology – see the Ethiopian Holocaust.] They’re gassing people in ovens so as to heal the ailing economy of the Fatherland.”

“Gassing? Ovens? I thought that was for getting rid of disabled babies?”

“Ah yes, but the Nazis have used their engineering nous to ratchet things up a notch! It’s going to give their economy a decent chance of surviving on the new stock markets, which will begin at the close of play of this war”.

It should be noted that there are many large industries and organisations which promote bigotry, xenophobia and hate. But there’s a limit to how many arseholes you can write about simultaneously, before your hands start to smell like shit.

Surely if we’re going to try and fix these kinds of problem, better education is the key. How much longer must we be ruled with/by ignorance? These outbreaks of anger which cause so much sorrow and pain, should be seen as symptomatic of a much larger problem. If the people are given the chance, they will more often than not do the right thing. And yet the killings continue. Is that such a surprise when you consider that the personality of a psychopath is the same whether you kill six people or run a multinational corporation? I guess it makes it easier to see how such negativity is fostered within our societies. I think it would be fair to postulate that if you fell into the latter category (CEO), you’re more than likely ticking the Ted Bundy box as well.

Not that any one society or country is immune to this madness. Whilst I can admit to my fair share of high school anger and the enveloping shroud of darkness that ignited it. I would never dream of directing any of that towards my schoolmates or teachers. Attacking schools is not the way forward! Did you know that Jewish schools in London are attacked [ I appreciate what constitutes an attack may take in a broad spectrum of actions] on an almost daily basis?

It’s especially galling when you consider some people struggle with the concept that following a religion is not another name for being a radicalised member of some splinter cell. I actually knew a kid, he and his brother had converted to a religion during the last two years of school. A year or so later, I happened to be watching the news (insidious propaganda) and there was a story about said brothers, the youngest of whom had been killed during some sort of firefight in the desert.

Well, I guess that just about brings us full circle. Shoot cunts not kids.

Immortality and a super-awesome afterlife

She’s here again. I’ve seen her every single day for the past couple of weeks. I feel like I know her, like we have some sort of relationship.

She sees me getting out of the station at 9am every morning, carrying two coffees and listening to my music, trying really hard to avoid her. Unfortunately, I can see we’re growing closer each time we meet.

First time I saw her she was standing a few feet away, watching me shyly with her magazine. Then she started taking little steps towards me, every time. Today, as I try to move as fast as possible and look anywhere but at her, she comes really close and shoves a magazine in my face.

The Watchtower.

Then I see her lips moving, but I can’t hear her. Instinctively, I take my earbuds off and she repeats her question. ‘Have you met Jesus?’ I look around, rather confused, expecting some hidden camera to show up, carried by some nerd I could punch. Is this a totally inappropriate spin-off of Barney Stinson’s matchmaking game?

Apparently not; she’s actually serious. And she keeps cramming that magazine in my face. Seriously, if she continues to shove that bullshit down my throat I’ll start feeling like Jenna Haze. If I have to deepthroat something on a Monday morning, I’d rather it wasn’t Jesus, thank you very much.

What is wrong with these people? What kind of twisted logic could have them believe that in order to get a ticket to Heaven they need to go around trying to ‘save souls’ and ‘bring people on the right path’? That’s like a kid trying to get into Disneyland by convincing his friends it’s a really fun place. You want to go to Disneyland, buy a fucking ticket and go, but don’t nag me about it. Same rules apply to Heaven.

Where does this arrogance stem from? It’s quite fascinating, if you think about it. Most of these religious cults praise humbleness, yet they also tell their followers that it’s their mission to save all the poor mortals around them who haven’t had the luck to find the way to redemption. Saving the world seems a bit removed from a humbling mission, if you ask me.

I know for a fact that if I found the way to immortality and a super-awesome afterlife, I wouldn’t share shit with any of you nitwits. I’d invite a few people to join in, of course. What’s an afterlife without a dealer and some people to party with? But stand in front of a tube station, freezing my butt off to get you on the amazing train to Super Fun Town? Hell no!

I don’t trust people who are so eager to share their secret recipes for happiness, whichever form it may take. That’s why I’ve never jumped at the opportunity to drink some disgusting shake that smells like manure just because some bloke promised it would cleanse my colon and turn me into the poster child for the upper middle class white girls with blonde hair, tiny waist and no boobs they always have in their ads. The one time I did fall for this whole “I can show you the way to everything you ever wanted” the promised happiness came in powder form and I ended up selling my used underwear on a Japanese website in order to fund it. I have learned my lesson.

I was so deep in thought the poor girl was under the impression I was listening to her, so she’s now super excited and trying to tell me about all the ways I can meet Jesus, because, so she says, he’s coming soon.

Calm your titties, dollface. I’ve already met Jesus. We did shots off each other in Mexico last summer. And if I remember correctly, he did come, albeit a bit too soon. Don’t get me wrong, that was really fun and all, but I have no intention of meeting him again.


On Wednesday night, in a feeble, man-in-a-room-by-himself type of solidarity, I drew a cartoon. I say ‘drew’ – it was on the computer of course. Every time I actually try to draw something with a writing implement I seem to end up playing hangman, and losing on purpose just so I get to draw a stick man being hanged. I never said I was issue-free.

The cartoon of course involved a man named ‘Muhammad’. It couldn’t not, given what prompted it was the shooting dead of a group of people, many of them elderly, who had drawn or supported the drawing of cartoons of a man named Muhammad. Nobody need see what I drew, mainly because it’s shite, but it’s enough to know I did it and will happily accept the consequences of it when nutters appear in front of me screeching religious slogans and letting loose the dogs of lunacy.

This website should provide a fairly clear example of how little interest I and the others who write for it have in censorship or holding back in any way. If we want to write something that people find insulting or offensive we will do exactly that, and then we’ll pepper it with a cheeky ‘cunt’ or two to make even those who agree with the sentiment wince.

There are, though, things that are banned even here. Racism, homophobia, sexism; these don’t belong here. Cards on the table: I wondered whether to allow even this type of thing simply to help better reveal the bigots among us, but the internet generally hears the sound of the gun as it shoots the old dog rather than the farmer’s claims of compassion when pitchfork-carrying animal lovers come for him, and if there’s one thing I enjoy it’s as easy a life as possible. Am I the farmer? Stop saying that, of course I’m the fucking farmer.

It seems there are some among us who would like to add ‘religious commentary’ to that list of generally disallowed notions, words and images. They’re so angry about it they shoot cartoonists. Dead, no less. I mean, I’ve seen some of their cartoons and their level of ‘humour’ might deserve a knee or two blown out, but assassination is going a bit too far.

There are competing reasons to deny these people the right to tell us we can’t say what we want about religion. Chief among them, certainly for the French who have a justified pride in their various freedoms, is that nobody should be able to tell us what we can and can’t say about anything at all. Another is less about tradition and more about brains.

Religion: it’s all bollocks.

I can’t be bothered to go into why religion in all its forms is cataclysmically disastrous for 21st century humanity. It’s enough to say that it’s all wrong: there are no gods, there’s no afterlife, you’ve no evidence for any of it and just because I don’t have any evidence either doesn’t make it a 50/50 shot that just after I die the next words I use will be ‘Oh, er…I apologise?’

The issue here is one of favouritism. I can call a radio phone-in with the Archbishop of Canterbury and call him a ‘mitred tit’ live on air and not expect much beyond the tutting of grandparents across the land. I can walk down the street wearing a t-shirt that reads ‘Vishnu is a silly blue-faced twat’ and the worst I can expect is someone stopping me to ask who Vishnu is. I can draw a picture of the second-most powerful character in Islam and all of a sudden mild displeasure and frowning is replaced by men running about in black – always in black because it’s nice to look cool while you’re murdering people – shouting and shooting and generally making life terrifying for everyone nearby. And all because Islam wants to be a special case.

Obviously Judaism wants to be another special case; anti-Semitism is in the news a lot at the moment. I’ve attempted to provoke argument in the past by claiming to be anti-Semitic, before of course underlining that I’m also an Islamophobe, fantastically anti-Christian and I think Ghandi was a backwards-looking bastard. Jews have had a horrible time of it in countless ways but it’s been nothing to do with me; if I want to insult Jews along with the rest I will. And nearly all Jews will probably understand the point I’m making and let me.

But Islam wants to be even more special. They don’t care that we can call the Pope a dickhead and suffer few repercussions – do the same about Allah and expect a treasured part of your body to be irreparably damaged. Well, no, we won’t be allowing that. I don’t want equality for lesbians but not gays. I don’t want a Zambian visitor to my country treated differently from a Chinese, Spanish or Fijian one. I like equality to be equal, and if I want to treat every religion equally badly then I goddamn well will.

It’s time Islam grew up. As is made repetitively clear following incidents like the Paris shootings it’s a tiny minority of Muslims causing the trouble – but it’s another tiny minority of Muslims condemning it, marching against it, kicking these fuckers out of mosques, denouncing them publicly rather than believing they can prove they’re decent people solely by not actively supporting maniacs. There’s a reason the English Defence League come across as demented – they don’t represent normal English people and we want to make sure the rest of the world realise that as vocally as we can, hence every rally they organise being outnumbered by decent people shouting back.

Freedom of speech and of the press bump up against some understandable boundaries beyond which only those with vindictive bigotry in their hearts will tread. Superstitious god-fearing nonsense cannot be claimed as one of those boundaries, because next on the list is the licencing of pet unicorns and giving elves the right to vote.

Instinctively I want to end with something brutal, something which diabolically insults one of Islam’s principal flights of fancy, to see whether I’m worthy of the wrath of people like the imminently dead brothers in northern France. I have the freedom to call our long-deceased pal Muhammad whatever I want, but also the freedom not to. Je suis Charlie indeed.

The other guy started it

A day after the horrific massacre in Peshawar and we are all still in shock. Of course a lot of very important people are dive bombing into the media pool with condolences and false platitudes, twisting it to their own agenda, but common sense appears to be absent.

My first question after any such attack is ‘Why?’ What makes someone do something so ridiculous? The catch all term of ‘terrorism’ is handed to us on a plate as if that explains everything. “It must mean something.” Er, no. There is no excuse. None.

The experts say that this act is intended to demoralise the Pakistani Army. Anyone with a sound knowledge of Hollywood movies knows that this is idiotic. Killing a kid just leads to a desire for revenge. Liam Neeson and Mel Gibson would be all over their ass, renewed in vigour with gigantic guns and damning puns. Then again, even they are terrorists. Oh to erase Rob Roy and The Patriot from my mind.

The groups who commit these atrocities are, above all, certified loons. Going into a school and shooting over a hundred kids is not something that’s easy for a sane person to do. No cause can justify it. No matter whether it’s religious fervour, greed or fear, to repeatedly shoot a two year old in the head is not normal. Believe me I’ve considered it many times, especially over Christmas when trapped in a shop with brats crying over the latest plastic tat. Yet even with my anger issues I stop, I say no, I walk away. If you blast a child into the next life no-one will suddenly think you have a good point, and only other mentalists will sit and plan their next holiday training in a desert.

The subsequent Taliban news release (yes they have a press team, cementing our complete hatred) loudly stomped and threw a rattle pointing out that the other guy started it, their kids got killed, ner. What exactly was the result? Did you get all sad and give up as you’re presumably hoping the enemy will? No, I’m pretty sure you just shot a load of kids who you’d never met before. All of you got shot as well. That’ll get the message out there. You’ve been sacrificed my friend, and have just made life impossible for many of your religion across the world. I love it when a plan comes together.

Just remember when you next read about a terrorist attack that these faceless suicide bombers and gunmen are not just in it for ‘a cause’. They’re human like the rest of us. Look at the action, what was involved and what was actually achieved. In most cases I think we’re better off just agreeing that there’s a percentage of the human race that are prone to complete and utter lunacy. These killers migrate to causes andthey feed off them as an excuse to kill. Treat them like you would treat Ian Brady.

Sliced off and sewn up

Tell a story about a man getting his bollocks damaged, and you can see every man in the room go green. Some women, like myself, start to dry heave at horrific tales of child birth. Today however I think everyone will be horrified to hear that Egypt have decided to find a father and doctor not guilty after the 13-year-old daughter died from “complications” due to female circumcision. I’m sorry, I said that incorrectly – after female genital mutilation.

The judge also gave the family $8,500 in damages. Happy days. This is in a country where the practice has been banned since 2008.

For those who don’t know, this is a procedure you should read about despite the fact it will burn in your memory and make you wonder why we don’t just nuke the entire planet right now. Attached to some religions, and I say attached loosely as it is a cultural practice – let’s be honest many old religious practices have been stopped – it is a procedure that has no medical benefits whatsoever. It is done to keep a woman pure. Now get a pillow to hide behind. This will be brutal.

From birth to puberty a girl is brought to an FGM practitioner. Without anaesthetic she is held done forcibly by four people, usually including her mother. A scalpel is then used to slice off the clitoris and its hood, and in extreme cases the entire labia sliced off and sewn up. Imagine that – the area where you have a lot of delicate little nerve endings getting hacked off as you scream and fight with no painkiller. A small hole is left to excrete piss and blood of course. We are disgusting beasts to even need that. They then pour on some antiseptic and a bit of coffee, and off you go. Just typing this I am retracting my pelvic floor into my body and trying not to spit blood.

It doesn’t stop there. If they survive, and many bleed to death, get septicaemia or even HIV as scalpels are not always sterilised in poorer countries, then life is not a bowl of raspberries. It’s not something you can forget about. Many women get cysts, become infertile and the rate of infant death is higher. Let me take you to the wedding night though. The husband looks down and sees the purity, tick on the box there. Sometimes he brings his friends and family along, just to make sure. They must then force the hole open with, well, his dick clearly. This results of course in ripping, tearing, all so romantic. Husbands who struggle have to call in the secret practitioner; you don’t want it getting round that your dick cant stab and cut female skin after all. The woman is then scalped open again, off he pops, hoorah, babies! Some blokes are shy, bless them, so instead it’s a quick turkey baster up the chuff and waiting until the contractions start, when they’re carved open again. Remember, even after the baby you’ll be sewn up. Mmm pure as the driven rusty metal blade.

You can come back now. Honestly. All those thoughts and feelings spinning round your head right now, you’re disgusted, sick, confused and above all angry. Imagine if you were a little girl knowing it was coming (let alone him cumming). Thank God we are in the UK, phew.

Think again. It’s been illegal of course since 1987. Yet not one case was taken to court until March 2014. There are over 137,000 girls from countries where FGM is standard practice living in the UK. As much as I would truly love to believe this glorious isle offers protection from such blatant barbarity, I can’t. Why was the 2014 case held? Just so happens the UN expressed concern that not one case had ever been found in the UK. Not one. Not even in the 1980s. Just going out on a labia here but maybe, just maybe, no one decided to legally enforce the ban. You know, cos it might be seen as racist?

Anecdotal evidence also shows that many young men in the UK also still believe it is a marriage requirement, none of whom of course know what the fuck it involves. They are slicing up a human being for no other reason than to prove she is a virgin. That’s it. You’re going to have to fucking hammer that thing, and I hope you like the sound of flesh tearing.

I am of course all for equal rights. I also think male circumcision without consent is wrong. There are proven medical benefits in certain cases, and if the man in question wants it removed to stop urinary infection or penis cancer, you go for it. Also consider the procedure. The area is injected with anaesthetic for a start. Quick slice, ban on spanking the monkey for a few weeks, all better. Gross, completely wrong if for religious purposes alone or done without the individual’s permission, yet pretty quick and once done it’s done.

Notice I pointed out that the five finger shuffle is still a possibility. Now imagine your ability to get an erection was also removed, or to ejaculate. No pleasure for you. Well removing a clitoris means fuck all bloody joy out of sex (after the sausage stabbing night of course). Welcome to the world of women as a fucking receptacle.

What amazes me is that there are still educated women who support the use of FGM. Don’t oppress our culture! It is the same as having a nose job – just cosmetic. Are you fucking blind? Do you not have any empathy whatsoever? And what of the mothers of these butchered girls? Maybe they are bitter that they have endured it, or quite possibly they are made to believe they are worthless without being sewn up, but it’s still utterly abominable.

This whole thing could be destroyed in a single generation in Europe. Tell your friends, tell your kids, think about what it actually means. How would it feel? How would it change a person? There are many things most people can choose to see or learn about, but this is something everyone should face, read, see, imagine, and above all loudly insist stops. Otherwise let me near the big red button.