Tuesday

Faith No More (474 Words)


From up here everything looks so small and peaceful; you can almost forget what is going on down there. Forget how mankind is tearing itself apart, how the mistakes of our past are being ignored and people are being slaughtered just for thinking differently.

Before all of this I would have said I was an agnostic. I wasn't a believer by any means but the thought of there being nothing after death terrified me; it still does to be honest. I was raised in the typically British half arsed Church of England way, was christened as a child but only ever went to church for the big three, christenings, weddings and funerals.

They were soon outlawed of course when the proof was found, when the truth was told. 

There is no God.

Those four words and their implications started all this. The broken body of God was laid out for all to see. The Religious orders said it proved nothing, said it was the ultimate test of faith, academics sneered at their ignorance and the world fell apart.

Suicide rates rocketed as people realised they had wasted their entire lives living by a now obsolete code. Neighbours fought each other in the street, Churches, mosques; temples were razed to the ground. Holy men hung from lampposts and scientists were burnt alive in revenge attacks. 

No one was safe.

As their numbers dwindled the major religions formed an uneasy alliance, thousands of years of hate were forgotten so they could fight the common enemy, the heathens, the educated and the informed. They took the darkest parts of their histories and taught each other lessons. Soon we had Christian suicide bombers blowing themselves up on packed school buses. Muslim led crusades through the smaller, weaker countries trying to convert the bewildered masses by force.

Peace love and tolerance were all forgotten

We fought back of course, using logic and then bullets; millions have died in the name of science.

Mecca was flattened, the Ganges ran red, the Wailing Wall fell, and yet they still believed.

The powers that be thought a show of our true strength was needed, the words Hiroshima and Nagasaki were mentioned. A suitable target was selected and I was called up to do my duty.

I crossed over the border of France and Italy a few minutes ago. The Vatican City was always secretive, always secure. Now it is like a citadel, crammed to the rafters with the faithful and the frightened, the last stronghold of the old world order.

Hidden from radar and invisible to the naked eye at fifty thousand feet it's down to me to rain death and judgement on them.

Only I don't think I can do it.

In the old days this would be called a crisis of faith but what do we call it now?


No comments:

Post a Comment