Monday, 23 May 2011

Tomorrow's Promise was Yesterday's Failure

Yeah, that makes little to no sense, but I don't much care. Point is that this is a follow-up to Saturday's post.

Is anyone here a little disappointed?

I mean, I was at least HALF expecting SOMETHING from the Rapture, be it fire, brimstone and angels of death or just psychopathic fan-boys out to make it clear that everyone was going to hell. It would have made my evening that bit more interesting.

Not that it wasn't interesting, I ended up at the Stoke's Croft Street Festival, an annual event that, frankly, I am annoyed I'd never heard of before! For those of you who don't know, it is an annual gathering to the ends of celebrating Stoke's Croft (I'm assuming, its underlying tone was really just loud music and heavy drinking/drug abuse. Good times all round) and I have never seen the streets of Bristol so packed. I shan't relay my specific activities on the day, they were too numerous and wide-spread and (towards the end) a little fuzzy in my memory, all I can say is that it was a great day, one I shall be enjoying again upon its (hopeful) renewal next year, and I highly advise that any of you not from the area should drop by sometime and check it out.

The event from the day I shall recount, though, will be my own Rapture Redemption Attempt. In the ever-present wise-ness of a bunch of drunkards the topic wound up at the Rapture, the end of the world and what we can do to prevent ourselves from eternal damnation, should it all turn out to be real. The answer came in the revelation of my status as a Minister (I have been ordained by the Universal Life Church, and so have all the practising powers of a low-level minister, meaning I can conduct marriage, funeral and christening services, as well as organise, run and fund religious fetes and festivals), and through this we decided and impromptu sermon was required. I would find some sort of gathering (not hard, given the day's turnout) and would offer up my services as a last-chance minister, granting atonement to those who were willing to repent, and thus hopefully allow them access to the Kingdom of Heaven if the time arose.

Of course it was all largely a joke (though I can never escape that sliver of hope and expectation that I, as a writer and open-minded individual, constantly feel towards such supernatural events as Biblical days and so on) and when I was situation in King's Square my flowery speech went largely unheard. I had a brief shouting chat with one guy about his position as middle-management in the offices of Hell (with the possibility of promotion to some sort of CEO) and a resounding moment of clarity, wherein we all discovered that a. no one cared, and b. if it were real we were ALL going to Hell anyway.

So my friends, that was my Rapture: a street festival in which I was an honorary member of a large gathering of Lesbians (a story for another day, friends) and a failed Redemption Minister all within the space of an hour. Only in this world, our world, that magical, unexplainable and unpredictable place, can such bizarre dreams come true, whilst at the same time denying the dreams of the hopeful zealots who cannot see the world for what it is, but as what other, stuffier and more terrified men see it. (Had to get a brief message in there somehow)

Until next time, be well, eat lots of fruit and never stop questioning.

The Tent is always open; I hope you will join me

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