I confess I’m hugely amused by religion which strikes me as the ultimate cop-out in explaining the unknown.
Take Christianity. It’s got to a huge following with an infantile belief in a creator God, albeit none of its adherents can tell us what this God bloke looks like, or even what his name is, Godding being an occupation word.
Instead, puzzlingly, they babble on about his son, a nutter (according to Oxford University’s religious studies department) called Jesus whose Dad had him cruelly murdered, this abominable parental action, apparently to somehow save us all from wrongdoing.
If so, it’s certainly been a disastrous flop, suggesting the God bloke got it badly wrong.
What really puzzles me is the constant substitution of the Jesus chap for his dad.
For example, who’d have guessed Jesus was a boxing enthusiast? Mind you, boxing is the oldest recorded sporting activity, recorded in the sense of illustrations over 5,000 years back on Mesopotamian vases and the like.
Nevertheless, following his recent narrow first loss to Ukrainian Oleksandr Usyk, heavyweight champ Tyson Fury, after complaining about the verdict, then added, “I thank Jesus for all the victories he’s given me”.
This inference that Jesus is a fight fan favouring the Brit was then puzzlingly negated by Usyk, who having been declared the winner, then grabbing the microphone and blurting, “Thankyou so much, my God Jesus”.
That sounds to me like Jesus might have preferred a drawn verdict given he was apparently plugging both combatants.
I suppose the forthcoming return bout will resolve this mystery as to who Jesus really backs.