Today, I’d like to share with you one of the daily occurrences at work which both amuses and irritates the heck out of me.
Books by Katie Price.
They’re turning up on the shelves in surprising abundance.
Sheofthestupidlysizedboobs is famous (or rather, infamous) for a lot of things. Having huge boobs. Being on a certain celebrity game show. Having huge boobs. Marrying Peter Andre with ‘unique’ style and then killing a Disney song in quite spectacular fashion live on TV. Having huge boobs. Separating and fighting with said ‘singer’ in the tabloids (I can’t stand him either). Oh and did I mention, having huge boobs?
I never thought I’d be writing another post referencing Christianity so soon after my last one. I practically emptied myself of my thoughts regarding my mother faith! However, apparently in this twisted world I may never be finished commenting on the worst excesses of it.
In my e-mail this morning I received an invitation to sign a petition, directed at several members of parliament who have received material support from a Christian charity, CARE (Christian Action Research and Education). The petition was started by Phillip Dawson from Enfield, who discovered that CARE co-sponsored a conference in 2009 which included the topics of “therapeutic approaches to same-sex attraction” and “mentoring the sexually broken”. His discovery turned into horror when he realised that the very same charity has since funded interns for 18 members of parliament, including his own (who has since severed ties with the organisation).
This blog post has been a long time coming. I have an admission, a declaration to make, which has changed my life forever.
I am no longer a Christian.
Just typing those words stirs up a maelstrom of emotions. It is so difficult for me to write this. But I need to sort this out in my own mind, if not for the friends who care about me. For those of you who may be reading this in shock and disbelief, I’m sorry. I hope I will be able to justify my decision. Please don’t judge me for it, or try to talk me out of it, no matter how much you feel you need to. I’ve already made it.
For those of you who may be reading this with a ‘told you so’ smirk, don’t assume that I’ve turned into a Christian-bashing atheist overnight. Not to say that all atheists bash Christians. But a lot of them do. I am not that either.
Yesterday at work a bright orange slip of paper caught my eye from between the pages of an innocent looking children’s book. It was on the trolley with all the recent returns, and the label adorning it proclaimed it was ‘banned’. Of course, I had to query this – why would a children’s book be banned, and if so, why would it be so conspicuously displayed (if at all)? To my great delight, one of the permanent staff at that library had begun a special and intriguing display – books of all kinds which have been banned at some time somewhere in the world.
The display had its own information booklet explaining why these books had been banned – some of the reasons are obvious and well-known, however others are rather surprising and just fascinating. It is common knowledge that modern American Fundamentalists hate the Harry Potter books with a passion, and that Nabokov’s Lolita caused uproar on its release – but I bet you didn’t know that the list contains such harmless titles as The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter, or Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland?
I spent some time supplying the small display with other titles from the booklet, and thought I’d share my favourite discoveries with you.
I hate to begin a post with a negative comment, but here it is: my attempt at the ’50 book challenge’ last year ended in tears. Tears as in the liquid kind, dear reader; after all, could you imagine a devotee such as me, defacing a book? Moving on swiftly… before I admit to the hundreds of condemned flyleaves torn out, date sheet still attached, or the inside covers stamped and scribbled upon for the purpose of book sale, or that one occasion I lost my temper with a so-called Christian book* which had ‘homosexuality’ marked as the opposite to ‘marriage’ in a neat little chart… I love and respect all books. Honestly.
However, after bravely beginning the year with Hans Christian Andersen (and realising I’d bitten off more than I could chew), I came to realise that not every book I may lay eyes upon will readily see me through until its last page. It is not with pride that I abandon a badly-chosen book, either for the nature or the SHEER AMOUNT of its content. Therefore in this year’s attempt I promise to avoid such books which threaten the average Bible girthwise.