Sacred purity? I ask ya?
I mean, check this...
This is ‘exactly’ how it went down in their Big Irrelevant Book of Lies and Exaggerations.
A Messenger shows up...
*Woosh*/*Flash* or *Woosh-flash* (Historians are undecided.)So, where were the girl's standards? Even if we excuse her ‘willingness’ by offering that she was an uneducated, primitive Bronze Age dessert dweller and only fourteen, she still seems rather eager to do something that neither she, a novice shagger, or any other woman, ever, had done before. Even if you put it down to the first flush of teenage hormones racing though her sand-kissed loins, she must still, surely, be classed as ‘a bit of a goer’, or at least a ‘gold-digger’, to have accepted such an outlandishly random proposal! I mean, really, there was no stopping to question the authority of the messenger, no checking the passport, birth certificate, DNA, lineage (which I admit would be a great trick), or any other method of identifying the origin of the magic beans she was to imbibe!
“Hello.”
“Holy crap! Where the hell did you spring from? I nearly shit myself!”
“Yeah sorry about that, I’m an Angel.” He flaps his wings apologeticaly. “I keep telling him, we should be fitted with bells or something; just showing up like that, it’s disconcerting, eh?”
“And rude!”
“Yes, quite. Sorry.”
“So? What can I do for you?”
“Well, nothing for me, it’s for him upstairs!” He points sheepishly at the ceiling.
“Mr Cohen? Well why didn’t you pop up in front of him then? You lost?”
“No, think higher.”
“O-h-h-h, right, gotcha. So what does he want? I’m busy!”
“I realise it’s an imposition Ma’am but I have this test tube for you. It contains the mighty, if you'll excuse the pun; don't get much chance for ‘em, what with him knowing all the punchlines! It contains the Mighty Almighty’s Seed, which you are commanded to nurture.”
“Test tube? With seeds from God? Cool, the crops are crap in this dessert; Joseph’s going to be well chuffed!”
“No dear, not that type of seed! Nurture a baby; you are to be impregnated with God’s ickle baby.”
“Jesus-Christ, your joking? Shit, shit, right, gotcha!” She takes the test tube carefully and holds it up, inspecting it in the dim light. “So, I’ve just got to whack this thing up my...”
“No, no; that'd ruin the trick! You're still a virgin, right?"
Mary nods and mutters. “Technically!”
The messenger looks sternly at Mary but continues. “Err, well, oh I suppose he knows that! He knows everything y’know; he’s a real know-it-all! Anyway, just empty the magic fun juice into your, er, bloomers, and hey presto Big Beardy's the daddy! Okay?” Mary nods again. “And, if you wouldn't mind hurrying; only I must return with empty tube. He's a stickler for everything dove-tailing; proper little tinpot dictator, truth be told!”
“Oh, alright then. You turn your back.” He turns and Mary keeps chatting as she does the seed deed. “We've never had a son of a god in the family before! Aunt Lizzie, well, I call Aunt, she’ll be jealous as hel... er, heck! And Magdalene, that’s her next door, is going to be many shades of green! She thinks she's 'all that' for marrying that sheep farmer, the big hairy goat herder, that's the goats that are hairy, not the herder... although, now I come to think of it, he's fairly fluffy too! Anyway, this way tops his meagre flock... There you go all done; didn't taste too bad."
The messenger spins around, aghast.
Mary, grinning at her little jape, giggles out an "Only joking! Ha; your face!" as she continues to refit her dress.
The messenger takes the test tube with one hand whilst giving a ‘why-I-oughta’ fist shake with the other and disappears in poof of fairy dust.(again, this is subject to dispute)
And socially, no sense whatsoever? Not a thought of poor old Joe's, or her own, standing in the community. Is it not, at the very least, a bit thick or naive of her to omit to consider the consequences of a baby out of wedlock, especially with Joseph claiming no responsibility? Did it not even cross her mind that it may not go down well with the, shall we say, less liberal members of their tribal hierarchy? I mean, you know what people are like; they are going to talk and point etc.
And, come to that, how is it that she wasn’t, in the barbaric style of the time, instantaneously stoned to death for unholy, unsanctioned, out of wedlock nooky?
Also, I know she was supposed to be a teenage virgin, having little or no knowledge of what's supposed to ‘happen’, unaware of the ways of the world one might say, but even so...
the guy who's supposed to be impregnating you couldn't make it,
so I've brought his ejaculation.”
This seems normal, acceptable behaviour to her?
You'd need to have really low standards, or the IQ of a turnip, to fail to notice the inherent disrespect in that, wouldn't you say?
And finally, given these events, as they are supposed to have occurred, isn’t the fact that the church and its followers hail this harlot, or halfwit, as chaste, sacred and pure, really quite contrary?
PEACE
Crispy
Crispy
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The best communications are often,
THREE WORDS OR LESS
OR ONE OR MORE FINGERS!
The best communications are often,
THREE WORDS OR LESS
OR ONE OR MORE FINGERS!
