Apologies for continuing to bang on about religion, but it's been much on my mind of late. While I was checking out the response to Julie Burchill's I-Like-God-But-Poo-Bum-Willy article the other day,* one piece I came across complained that God is always portrayed as being male.
Well, I thought, No wonder. I may not believe in God myself, but I'm damn well sure that the God I don't believe in has a metaphysically enormous pair of intergalactic clackers and a whacking great dobber He could crush suns with, if He was in the mood.
Get people going on the subject of God's gender and it never takes more than five minutes for somebody to point out that He appeared to Moses in the form of a burning bush or some such like. It's clearly unintended symbolism - if He'd meant His form to be a coded message on His sex, he'd obviously have appeared before Moses in a dressing gown and "accidentally" let it slip open.
Hey, Moses was a man of the world, all those whores and sinners. He'd have done what any of us would do and look at the sky, whistling awkardly and saying Uh, LORD, you might want to do something about that.
I mean, do you remember that in the Bible? I don't, and I just checked.
Well, I don't believe in Him anyway, but I think it's ridiculous we're still having this type of conversation. Obviously God's a bloke, and I think He should prove it by gently pushing one of His knackers through the Earth's atmosphere over, say, North America.
Let the faithful gaze upon the Lord's furry great Jupiter-sized bollock suspended pendulously over New York City, and then let's hear somebody try and say that He's a woman.
Honestly, bloody feminists. They don't half come out with some nonsense, do they?
*n.b. I'd characterise the response to Burchill's schtick these days, metaphorically speaking, as a copy of her new hardback hitting the back of her head while several thousand voices shout and take your bloody book with you, we don't have any use for it.