A mini-bestiary

In mythological writings, one encounters many fantastic and improbable creatures. Here are two really strange ones that we came across recently.

The Basilisk (Basiliscus Loftus).

The basilisk is a terrifying monster indeed, known for screaming unearthly threats in an attempt to petrify its enemies. It tends to occupy a little-known place called Catholica Tempora, where it leaves behind strange markings which many people find disgusting. This eccentric creature makes an interminable croaking sound, something like "va-ti-can-too va-ti-can-too". It runs away screaming if it hears Latin being spoken. People who speak the language of the basilisk claim that virtually everything it says is nonsense.

The Chimera (Davidus Chimeron).

One of the most repulsive creatures known to haunt Westminster is the chimera: an abomination that is part-man, part-goat and part-snake. An animal known for its love of deceit, it is rightly called "three-faced". These monsters like to reproduce by a same-sex bonding which they quaintly call "marriage". The creature is considered by many religions to be an obscene parody of God's creation. Sometimes the chimera simply acts the goat, but often the snake part is in control, and the animal is then at its most deadly.

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Unfortunately, we have no space for the Giant Boring "Tina" Beetle, the Holy Smoke Elemental, or the Catherine Piranha (or Tabletista). Some other time, perhaps.

Numbers

So we reach Chapter 4 in the Eccles Bible project, explaining the Bible in simple terms to an atheist called Richard who is trying to get to grips with theology. We have already seen Genesis, Exodus, and Leviticus.

This is not really what the Book of Numbers is about.

Still, some numbers do appear in the book of that name: Moses starts off by counting his people, and comes up with a total of 603,550 men over the age of 20, fit for military service (they are expecting trouble, then...). Rather a lot, really. I had always thought in terms of a smallish flock, but here we have something like the population of Glasgow - since the women and children are presumably not included in this figure.

Some of the Children of Glasgow prepare for a fight.

Anyway, once the census is over, there are various adventures in the desert. The Levites play a prominent part, as people of that tribe don't do military service, but are reserved for religious duties - perhaps a bit hard on those who wanted to become chartered accountants or manufacturers of jeans.

For about forty years, the people of Israel - who are chosen by God, although they don't really find out why until much later - wander in the desert, and most of this takes place in the book of Numbers. Aaron will die, and Moses will be told that he also cannot go into the promised land.

It's not really important, except as a nice story, but let's mention Balaam and his talking donkey. Balaam wants to go and curse the Israelites, because Balak the King of Moab asked him to. But an angel stops him.

Balaam's donkey sees the angel, and gets hit as a result.

So basically, the people of Israel are under God's protection. This makes them very unpopular with the hosts of Midian, whom they basically decide to massacre. Not to mention the Canaanites. Not to mention Stephen Hawking.

Stephen Hawking - sticking up for the Midianites.

Richard, old fruit, I know you're distinctly unhappy with this bit of the Bible. Why is a loving God telling the Israelites to kill people? Even evil people, who indulged in things like prostitution, abortion, and same-sex marriage? Why, aren't we lucky that we don't do things like that ourselves, eh? We might be in deep trouble!

I don't think a caption is needed...

All right, so basically the Israelites are going to do God's will, and as a result they will get preferential treatment. We have one more book of the Pentateuch/Torah to go (i.e., Deuteronomy), and this will see us through to the end of Moses.

Moses and the bronze snake (Numbers 21) - an early homeopathic cure for snake-bite.

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A note on the text: apparently, in Chapter 10 the author uses a rare glyph called an inverted nun. Since these are so rare, let's have a photo.

An inverted nun.

St George

April 23rd is St George's day, so if your real name happens to be Jorge Mario Bergoglio, or if you are English, Greek, Catalan, Bulgarian (and a whole lot more), or live in Preston (yes, really), Genoa, Rio (and a whole lot more), then you will be dancing in the streets today!

Of course, if you are a dragon, you will not be celebrating.

Some people who will not be celebrating quite so enthusiastically are the good folk of Bury St Edmunds. Until the middle ages, Edmund was the patron saint of England (he blogged under the name On the side of the Angles), and like George he was a martyr. Still, there is nothing to stop you wearing a sugar-beet in your button-hole on November 20th if you do wish to honour this great Suffolkman.

The Vikings win this round.

Georgia, Egypt, Romania, ... but not Ireland, of course, where St Patrick is celebrated. He's known for driving all the snakes out of Ireland, which seems to be slightly easier than driving all the dragons out of England - unless there weren't very many in the first place. But we must not forget Preston.

St George's church, Preston. Note the absence of dragons.

Ethiopia, Portugal, Iraq (???) ... Anyway, the villain of our story is the Emperor Diocletian, who for some reason didn't like Christians. "Nasty, vile, bigots!" he called them. Nothing changes much, does it? So on April 23rd 303 he tortured St George a little, just to make things more interesting, and then decapitated him. Probably a simple death from Viking arrows would have been more enjoyable.

St George, as seen by the Vatican.

Well, let's see the St George's flag, in its most usual manifestation - at least in England. Whenever the England football (soccer) team is in distress, which is every two years or so, the whole nation prays to St George - which is tough luck if the opponents are India, Ukraine, Serbia, ...

St George, pray for us all.

Genesis

This is the first chapter in the Eccles Bible project, where we explain the Bible in simple terms to an atheist called Richard, who knows something about science, but does not really understand life.

Let there be light! Genesis 1:3.

Now, I am not taking a fundamentalist everything-is-literally-true or even a sola scriptura approach in this project. And Richard, old man, if you get to the end of my course and become a protestant rather than a catholic, that's fine too. A great improvement on atheism, I can assure you. Indeed, I'm mostly going to be using the King James Bible: I know you think it's a great piece of literature - although mysteriously, your wife tells me that there are lots of holes in your personal copy, where the words God, Jesus, Christ, Heaven, Devil, Sin etc. have been excised with a pair of scissors (and, oddly, the word Rome, too).

Now there are several problems that Richard finds with Genesis, because he assumes it is intended to be read as a completely literal account of events.

God created the world in six days, ending up with man, and - as an improvement - woman.

Stephen Hawking explains the mathematics behind Genesis, Chapter 1.

Well, it seems that what the authors of Genesis are suggesting is that the universe did come into being, somehow or other, and that gradually different creatures emerged, until one of them became identifiable with the intelligent, thinking, wise beings we see around us today - those who read the Daily Mailand watch Top Gear, and use these media as ways of understanding the deeper mysteries of life.

So God created man in his own image. Genesis 1:27.

Apples, talking snakes, etc. What a load of rubbish!

Now, stop being silly, Richard. The Adam and Eve story as a legend, all to do with Man's attempts to defy the will of God. It does not need to be literally true in ever particular to convey a message to us.

Man's downfall. Genesis 3:6.

What's more, although mainstream Christians tend not to believe in the literal truth of a story involving talking snakes, there is no particular reason why a talking snake could not exist - after all, we have talking birds and talking mammals....

A talking gorilla (L) and a talking snake (R).

The rest is all primitive stuff about bronze-age goatherds.

Well, we have to admit that several of the characters in Genesis (and there are many interesting ones, such as Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, and so forth) would have lived in the bronze age, and some of them would have owned goats. But then, Richard lives in the plastic age and wrote a D.Phil. about chickens, so we don't seem to have moved on significantly.

Let's get on to Jacob, and see what he has to say.

Behold, Esau my brother is a hairy man, and I am a smooth man. Genesis 27:11.

Well, yes, that's one thing he said, although not necessarily the most important.

Look, I'm a busy man. What is the point of Genesis?

Well, Richard, it's the beginning of Man's story. It shows that people are not perfect, and they commit sins. The best people are trying to understand who God is and what He wants (a question not completely answered to everyone's satisfaction even now). We first encounter Israel - initially an alias for Jacob, but then a name for his many descendants - which will become quite important later on, especially when we get to see God's plans.

Jacob (alias Israel) has an odd dream. Genesis 28:12.

Now you see the problem that Genesis poses for materialists and secularists. First, you have to go for the meaning behind the legends, rather than worrying whether Methuselah literally lived for 969 years or only 96. Second, there are the underlying themes that God is out there and that sometimes we actually do wrong things - even you, Richard. There, there, don't cry, dry your eyes... here's a handkerchief. Now, give us a big blow! Well done.

A fellow of New College, Oxford, discovers that he is a sinner.

Let's take the later part of Genesis as "oral tradition," which someone finally wrote down. It seems probable that Abraham and co. really did exist, and did roughly the things attributed to them. When we eventually get onto the New Testament, we'll see something more in the line of eye-witness accounts, and literal truth will be more important.

So, our story today ends with the people of Israel settling in Egypt. This turns out not to be what they really wanted, but we'll find out more about this when we get on to Exodus.

So Joseph died... in Egypt. Genesis 50:26.

Anti Moly replies

WOEFUL!

I want to make it clear to all of you that I never under any circumstances read Eccles's vicious and cruel blog, which takes trivial incidents from my life and exaggerates them out of all proportion.

For example, in his entry of 8th July 2011, when he first recorded my arrival, he referred to me incorrectly as "Grate-Ant Molly," and claimed that I had been detained at the police station for vagrancy (which my illiterate nephew spells "vaguerancy"). In fact, I had merely gone there to report that someone - probably a fanatical Catholic - had put 25 baby possums in my hotel room; they were running round the room, bouncing up and down on my bed, and they knocked over six bottles from my meagre supply of medicinal gin.

Then again, in the entry of 9th July...

[50 pages deleted here. Sorry, Anti Moly!]

Anyway, having corrected all the errors in Eccles's nasty blog, let me take the opportunity to dispel the most recent rumours, namely, that I deliberately tried to kill my nephew by cooking a poisonous meal for him.

Delicious bush tucker

In Pottymouth, the beautiful Australian city where I normally live (although at present I am an exile in London), we don't have any pathetic pommy squeamishness about food. Spiders, snakes, old socks, hairbrushes... all these constitute "bush tucker," and are delicious when fried in gin. On Sunday I decided to do some cooking, as everyone else in the household had gone to church, and I made a delicious Pottymouth Goulash à la Cardinal Pell - named after an old admirer of mine. Perhaps I added too much anti-freeze - such is life, eh - for when Eccles came back to partake of this culinary delight, he was very ill. However, I ate some myself, so that proves it was harmless.

Eccles has also written some misleading comments about my false teeth.

My new set of false teeth

It is true that I lost my previous set of false teeth, and it is even true that a Catholic priest found them and venerated them as a relic. However, I did not throw the teeth at him - they slipped from my hand when I was gesturing to him to get lost. I'm just putting the record straight here, although those fanatical traddy Catholics are determined to lie about the events.

While I am here, perhaps I can also set the record straight about the events of June 2010, when judy8 (note, no capital letter!) was not banned from Damian Thompson's blog, whatever people say. Far from it: indeed, Damian invited me to write my own Telegraph blog, because he was so impressed by my incisive debating style. It's true that judy8 vanished and I came back under the names of AlfredHaddock (no space) and molybdenite (lower case); however, these were not sockpuppets but...

[Another 50 pages deleted here. Sorry again, Anti Moly!]

Well, that's the short explanation, anyway. I can give more details if anyone wants them.

Let me close with a few comments about England. It really is a woeful place, with a high concentration of pommies, Catholics, males, females, young people, old people and middle-aged people - these are all sections of society that I dislike strongly. The worst freaks of all are to be found on the Telegraph blogs pages, although I make an exception for courteous, saintly, polite and charming Charles Cutley Utley, the celebrity blogger, novelist and lawyer. He has not been seen lately, and it seems that he is greatly changed by his sufferings; however, he has sent me a recent photograph, which I would like to share with you.

"Slightly grumpy" Charles Utley

Well, stands the church clock at ten to three, and are there spiders still for tea? I think so. Such is life, eh.

moly

Bad Hymns 6

Today's entry for the Eccles Bad Hymn Award is Follow me, by Michael Cockett, another totally inappropriate hymn that has found itself into the Kevin Mayhew book of Vogon poetry Hymns for Hippies.

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E: Michael Cockett, good to see you. Did you have a good journey here?

MC: Not entirely, Eccles, I had this uncanny feeling that someone was following me.

Monsieur, I was told to follow you

E: Never mind, I'm sure there's a rational explanation. Now in your hymn you seem to have copied and pasted huge swathes of Jesus's words, without worrying too much about the context.

MC: We've had a few complaints about that, Eccles. Lots of people have been going out to buy fishing-nets and boats just so that they could leave them upon the shore.

E: Yes, and then your friends removed them and sold them at car boot sales, eh?

MC: That's a vicious lie, Eccles!

For sale, to a good home

E: Now one thing you make people sing is The foxes have their holes and the swallows have their nests. Very true, I'm sure, but is it really the sort of thing that should be put into a hymn?

MC: But Jesus said it, so it must be worth singing! And it's organic!

E: So would you also sing Ye brood of vipers, who hath shewed you to flee from the wrath to come?

MC: Great idea, Eccles. How about: You are vipers, you are vipers, You did not dance unto the pipers? Matthew 11 and 12, you see.

A priest having trouble with his congregation

E: You are vipers, you are vipers, Your car's lost its windscreen wipers? No, perhaps not.

MC: So, am I in contention for the Eccles Bad Hymn Award?

E: Well, maybe. But for real star quality you really want silly words, not just words that aren't suitable for singing. We'll let you know.

MC: Thanks. I'll be off now. By the way, don't forget to "follow me" on Twitter.

De Debate of De Centurry

We is pleased to provvide a trancsript of de Debate of De Centurry, where a biollogist and a theologgian debates de exisstence of God. We hopes it is more successful dan last week's Debate of De Centurry, where a nuclear phsyicist and an art crittic debated de existence of de Higgs Bosson.



Dat's de biollogist, Richard Dakwins (right), rellaxin wiv an uniddentified freind.



And dat's de theologgian, Rowan Willaims (right), wiv a poor beggar wot aint got proper clothes.

De referee is Sir Antony Kenney, wot is a black belt in Juddo, and able to stop de two prottagonists from killin each uvver.



Let de debate commence!

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Dawkins: Let me say first of all, as a trained biologist, that snakes cannot talk. I wrote a thesis in animal behaviour, and spent 3 years trying to persuade a serpent to say "Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?" but it never got further than "Dawkins, you're an idiot." See? I've refuted one of the main tenets of your faith. Admit it, Beardie. Go on, admit it.

Williams: Thank you, Richard. May I say that this is a most useful and constructive contribution to our dialogue. In one sense, are we not all struggling to articulate an awareness of our own idiocy? Let me bring in philosophy for a moment.

Dawkins: Philosophy? That means "stamp-collecting," doesn't it? I've never had any time for it.

Williams: Well, in a very real sense it means that. But, if I may go further, it is also to do with the fundamental problems of our existence. Are we really here? I may be sticking my neck out here, but I like to think that, in many ways, there is something to be said for the theory that we are.

Dawkins: Talking of stamps... when I put a letter in a red box and it is magically transported to another place, am I supposed to deduce from that the existence of a postman? No, it is the genetic code in the envelope causing it to move of its own accord.

Williams: Perhaps I could venture to bring in Jesus Christ here, since we were talking about religion earlier?

Dawkins: Who?

Williams: Well, He appears later on in the Bible, and in a very real sense may be regarded as a somewhat relevant and meaningful person in the context of Christian thought.

Dawkins: Oh I stopped reading after Genesis. What a load of rubbish that was. What's the point of it? It was written by King James in 1611, anyway. What did he know about evolutionary biology? Look, we were all living in the Dark Ages until Darwin came along with his ground-breaking book called, um, "The Origin of the..." er... Oh my God, what's it called... it's on the tip of my tongue...

Williams: Species?

Dawkins: Yes, I like making speeches, and love having huge crowds of adoring teenagers saying "Richard, how can one man be so brilliant?" Have you ever read Genesis? That God chap. What a monster, eh? Took Adam, ripped his rib out, and made a woman out of it. When I was a research biologist I was able to show that it wasn't possible to make a whole woman out of a man's rib. All I could make was a rather nice table lamp. And even then I had to buy the wires and the bulb. Well, that proves that you Christians know nothing.

Williams: Well, it's not my job to preach to you, but...

Kenny: We're going to have to wrap this debate up soon, but do you have any final philosophical points to make? Does Occam's Razor tell us something?

Williams: Ha ha, I'm afraid I don't use Occam's Razor. And when I read the works of Bernard Shaw, I realised that Shavian philosophy was not for me either.

Dawkins: Well, I must be toddling off now, I've got a "Dawkins Youth" rally to attend. Don't think I'm one of those dreadful atheists, I'm just a humble agnostic who wants the Pope burnt at the stake. (Exit)

Williams: I thought that went very well, didn't you? In one sense we are all saying the same thing about religion, and sharing some very positive dialogue about whether God really exists. It reminds me of the General Synod.

Kane and Able

Ullo Bosco, is you cross wiv your little bruvver Eccles? I is beginnin to suspect dat we has Kane and Able all over agin.

If you looks at Genessis you sees de storry of Kane and Abel. De Lord said unto dem, "You gotta write bloggs my lads and we'll see which one I likes best".

So Kane, who was de big bruvver and de leeder, he wrote a very powerfull blogg all about how he hated peeple, espeshully Cathlics, and dat he liked talkin about what peeple did in de tiolet. De little bruvver, Able, he wrote a blogg full of love and affection for his big bruvver Bosco, er I mean Kane, and tellin of his spiritaul juorney to Salivation.

Den de Lord reeds de bloggs and he says "Dats a mihgty fine blogg Kane, but I fink little bruvver Eccles, er I mean Able, has got nearer to bein saved."

Den Kane he got very wrathfull and he smote little Able. Dat means Able got deaded.

Now dis is only an old storry, and aint very rellevant todday, but I has noticed three odd things todday, Bosco dere, and I was wonderin if you could advise me.

1. Dere was a snake in my bed last nihgt and I dont remember puttin him dere.
2. I opened de cubbpoard just now to get out a saints statue to kiss, and out fell an ax what neerly hit me.
3. Dis is de strangest, some secrett admirer have given me some sweeties. I don't know dem, are dey any good?