Watched a BBC World phone-in show with Richard Dawkins and it was all fairly straightforward and respectable, until this American Catholic Priest started shouting about Hitler being an athiest (he was a Catholic) and the Holocaust being somehow ‘in the name of athiesm’ (LOL), which is apparently what former Hitler-youth member Pope Benedict said recently. Dawkins remained uncharacteristically calm, which was impressive, maybe he felt more secure on the ‘home turf’ of the BBC. Both he and the interviewer (and a woman on the phone) showed restraint in not mentioning the Vatican’s complicit involvement in spiriting away leading ‘useful’ Nazis to America just after the war ended.
“Given Hudal’s open sympathy for National Socialism since the 1930s, it is very meaningful that he was given work with [Nazi] refugees after the war, and that he was chosen to minister to German internees in Italy.”
Watching, I did wonder, given that Stalin came up too, the extent to which early 20th century Russian communism prioritised anti-mono-theism. Were the post-revolutionary commies more anti-religious than anything else, or was that just an minor part of their, um, angle? I dunno.
Increasingly, I fucking hate organised religion more than ever and ranting priests who lie about history on TV aren’t going to soften that view. One of Dawkins’ strengths is (particularly on safe ground, rather than in unplanned confrontation) he stays focused on the core facts, when insulted or attacked. One punter boffed on that: “Athiesm was only for fat middle-class comfortable people” and Dawkins didn’t rise to it, just pointed out that even if this were true, the statistically improbability of the existence of God remained the same.
Yesterday as I walked in my front door, I realised I’d wandered straight past Sam Get Cape on North Laine, without so much as a “Hey, what are you doing down here? Playing tonight? Is Paul around?” It happens all the time because even familiar faces, I mistake for people who’ve been to gigs or I’ve seen around before, Brighton being such a small town. Like this girl Karen, who I’ve been vaguely smiling at but not stopping for a chat with for 2-3 years, must’ve happened 1oo times, then at the end of last year I suddenly realised she wasn’t a gig-goer at all but a girl I used to work with in London when I was a ‘journalist’. And it’s always right near where I live, so she’s practically a neighbour. What a rude bastard!
Yesterday was mainly British Rail’s fault, one of their ticket machines broke down while chewing up my card. Then the only person who could open the machine “wasn’t working” yesterday. Then they wouldn’t give me a ticket to London, even though I’ve probably paid for it. I spent the next hour in a state of fury.