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God ’elp us all!

Thanks to the self-serving divining powers of the promoters of the Christian-God concept, Easter came late this year. I am eternally grateful to them: to my relief, it means I can get through the excruciating events associated with the Crucifixion, Anzac Day and Prince Will’s hitching all in the short space of eight days.

Each year, I tolerate the fantastical ravings associated with the ironically tagged “Good Friday” — marking the execution a couple of millennia ago of a young Jewish man who could never have envisaged the harm his brief existence would inflict upon the human psyche for aeons to come — and, of course, the subsequent resurrection garbage.

And, each year, usually a few weeks after Easter, I have had to put up with a day of incessant waffle on the airwaves as millions around the nation pay hypocritical homage to all those poor buggers who either “gave their lives to save us” (in a succession of mostly unnecessary conflicts) or who returned home so battered and psychologically destabilised that they still feel they have to gather every April 25 to remember and celebrate the “glories” and mindlessness of human aggro.

I had hoped, as Eric Bogle once optimistically predicted, that soon (probably by early in the 21st century) there would be “nobody marching at all”. Tragically, this was not to be. With millions of gullible Australians re-aroused through the Dark Age of the warmongering John Howard and his Liberal/Country rabble to once again glorify violence and conflict, the nation continues in denial of the fact that most of those that did die, did so in vain.

And — as if these two nonsensical outbursts are not symbolic enough of human failure (Easter and Anzac Day) to face the real challenges confronting Planet Earth — this coming Friday, millions of silly Brits and their sometime friends throughout the “Commonwealth of Nations” and beyond, will go gaga over a couple of ordinary humans being “blessed” in marriage in an architecturally magnificent edifice that today stands as a monument to human irrationality.

Already it is almost impossible to watch a TV or radio broadcast that is not littered with “Will this” and “Kate that”, and probably nearly impossible to Google anything that does not have a pointer to the royal rubbish that will be inundating our lives for months to come, especially when W&K get preggers — which, by royal command, is usually demanded of the cruelly exposed couple by the time they get back from their honeymoon.

My only refuge is to largely ignore all three media, the second of which, via ABC-RN and the BBC, I regard as my lifeline to the outside world. And, “Do you know what?” — as a six year old friend is wont to ask of me — it’s proving a blessed relief. The peace and quiet I am enjoying are hugely spiritually nourishing and mind-cleansing, which might seem something of a contradiction in light of what I am now saying.

How on earth can we expect human life to survive the gargantuan challenges that lie ahead of us — peak oil, climate change, global warming, land and ocean pollution, forest destruction, Third World hunger, population growth, incessant inter-racial/religious conflict . . . — when it gladly throws itself, willy-nilly, into exaltation of the mumbo-jumbo trivia of religion, the glorification of war and the fantasy world that celebrates a marriage carefully tailored to produce a nicely gened heir to ensure a royal line that no longer has a reason to exist except as that of a tourism cash-cow for Blighty?

God ’elp us all!

— Bob Hawkins