Written by Gordon Aspey
23 October 2018
It was during the middle 1940’s when the Biology God created the throbbing bulge in my under pants. I had a crush on Veronica Lake a famous film star of the day. Veronica had long blonde hair draped down one side of her face so you could only see one eye. Come to think of it, I don’t ever remember seeing the other eye. Also clamouring for my affection was Rita Hayworth another famous star of the day although I never forgave her for marrying that Arab bloke.
I had a very torrid relationship with them in my dreams. My courage, tenacity and raunchy stamina would have left James Bond sucking his thumb with envy. Normality resumed when I discovered there were other girls around more attainable.
I spent a good part of my youth worshipping God. The institution I was raised in had religious instruction on the curriculum seven days a week. A lot of time was devoted to singing praises to God and asking him to save the king; however that didn’t work, (King George V1 died in 1952).God has been more sympathetic to the Queen, maybe I should have asked him to save Veronica and Rita as well; apparently they later became dedicated to the Bottle God.
I suspect a lot of older people might be thinking the time would have been better spent asking God to save their pension.
There are thought to be in excess of four thousand Gods to worship and presumably each follower will believe theirs is the genuine article. There’s plenty of scope for ambiguity?
Soon after leaving school I dumped the worshipping idea altogether. The passage of time hasn’t convinced me of the credibility of a God. When you consider the age of the planet and its warmongering inhabitants, it is one gargantuan mess and there’s no sign of any improvement.
I’ve always thought my thinking and actions came to me as an individual with random choice. I now realise this is an illusion. We are programmed from cradle to grave to act in a certain way; you might call it a sheep like quality. You would be hard pressed to think of doing something completely original for it’s not in the template.
If you take the apple, there may be some 7,500 varieties with variations in shape and colour but they will always be apples and all go through the same life cycle. They start with beautiful blossom, then buds followed by fruit to fill Supermarket shelves. They are subject to the narrow parameters of an apple template. I reckon we are much the same we stem from a basic template of head body and arms and legs with a longer more complex life cycle. The feature that really stands out is our inability to avoid conflict.
Killing and murdering other human beings has always been a well established source of entertainment. The Romans used the Amphitheatre, the modern approach is by Television and Newspapers who dish it out on a daily basis be it a murder mystery or raking over some ghastly tragedy. Violence is a key factor in the entertainment industry. Violence and murder equals profit. Young kids armed with guns and knives create havoc with little thought to the misery created for the families of their victims. They are often replicating the games they play on their computer screens. Is it any wonder that depression figures are so prominent in National Health expenditure?
You couldn’t have apples with conflict in their template. Having punch ups in the orchard would defeat their purpose. The apple gained an unexpected brownie point when nudging Isaac Newton in his Theories of Gravity. Okay, so I’m getting all philosophical.
I have more empathy for the North American Indians and their Totem Pole depicting the world as they saw it, with every carved feature including animals having a specific colour and meaning. They were tributes to past chiefs and other members of their past. The Totem wasn’t an object of worship but more a History of their tribe. It was a symbol requiring respect for elders and things that contributed to their wellbeing. It maybe simplistic, but is more understandable and in keeping with their experience of life.
The worship of God appears to be in decline and in his place come celebrities of all shapes and sizes. We appear to have a need to worship somebody or something stemming from our template.
The memory of my adolescent swooning worship came home to me when I witnessed the adulation of the Beatles with girls fainting all over the place. When you witness the frenetic worship practised in some countries like Syria and North Korea with giant posters of their leader splattered everywhere. I find it hard to believe whole nations of people can be so gullible. Although the UK has its own subtle brand of radicalisation via the television and media. I remember the sight of adoring faces singing the praises of Jeremy Corbin at the recent Labour party Conference. Putting the politics to one side you wonder how people can be so moved by one individual to a particular mind set. I bet Jeremy Corbin is even more surprised; to be in total obscurity one moment and the potential to be prime minister in the next. (God help us)I have a preference for the biological God and the Veronica’s and Rita’s of this world which seem less complicated and more natural.
As time passes most of us grow out of the swooning worship thing and embrace the real world. For some, worship continues well into old age, such is their devotion they pay serious money for all manner of memorabilia, even clothes once belonging to their particular idol. I couldn’t imagine spending big money on Veronica’s knickers. I doubt she would approve and would probably regard the whole idea with a very jaundiced eye.