Is God an old man with a beard?

Recent events in British politics have led many people to suppose that God is an old man with a grey beard, living in some remote area beyond the reach of ordinary human beings (Islington, also known as Corbyngrad). But is such a belief tenable in the present day and age?

A man walking like a chicken, or God moving in a mysterious way?

Certainly after his miraculous election to the leadership of the Labour party, and his consequent appointment as leader of the Opposition, against all the odds, many people are prepared to bow down and worship this mysterious figure that we all associate with times long gone by (the 1960s, mostly).

Still, if indeed Jeremy Corbyn IS God, then that would provide an explanation of his refusal to sing the National Anthem, "God save the Queen". After all, he would only be talking (or singing) to himself. And presumably he already has a fairly good idea whether the Queen is saved.

It's so embarrassing when people sing hymns to you.

For a long time it was thought that God was a middle-aged man who wrote down his promises on stone tablets and ate bacon sandwiches in a mysterious way, but a few months ago this theory was disproved and the search for a supreme being went elsewhere. But really, who believes in the divinity of an old man with a beard in this day and age?

Meanwhile, Pope Francis has made it perfectly clear that he does not believe in the divinity of JC (even though he shares his initials with a *very* famous religious personage indeed). Indeed, in asking Catholics to reduce their Corbyn Footprint, he has made it clear that, wherever Heaven is, it cannot be in Islington.

The Angel, Islington, a challenge to non-believers.

Bad Hymns 27

Aujourd'hui nous are writing ce blogue en Franglais, la langue internationale, car nous avons invité M. Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle to tell us about La Marseillaise. Our own anthem God Save the Queen est un hymne religieux, and a very effectif un, since, spurred on by "Long to Reign Over Us", La Reine has already reigned soixante ans and is in bonne forme for another soixante. La Marseillaise est un peu plus séculaire.

Well, it's O.K., but wouldn't Savez-vous planter les choux be a better anthem?

Curieusement, La Marseillaise n'a pas les silliest lyrics de tous les national anthems. In Delingpoland, ils chantent "Long live the Grand Duke and may his breakfast egg and bacon cause his ears to flourish"; while in West Ed they are moved aux larmes by the mots "Bless the land of West Ed, and its men and women, its dogs and cats, its donkeys and goats, its llamas and possums" (and so on throughout tout le kingdom des animaux); enfin, the Republic of Odone anthem consists of le seul mot "Odone" sung 1728 times, although une version plus courte de 640 repeats is allowed en cas d'urgence.

Patriots singing On les plante avec le nez, à la mode de chez nous!

E: Still here nous sommes, avec M. Rouget de Lisle. Claude, je gather that vous êtes un membre of the sans-culottes?

CJRdL: That's rather une question personnelle, M. Eccles. In fact je porte des "longues-Jeans" knitted by my Tante Fifi. Il fait froid à Paris, mon vieux.

E: Now, your chanson is très bloodthirsty, all to do with des personnes waving blood-stained drapeaux at vous.

CJRdL: La Tyrannie raises son bloody banner, Eccles.

E: Could you donner un exemple?

CJRdL: Well, par exemple, Louis XVI brought in a loi about le mariage bogus, le même-sexe mariage, and his gendarmes used gaz-de-larmes to attack anyone who manifestait pour la famille, dans les rues.

E: Terrible, Claude, and I gather that he decided to sack any maires who refusaient to conduct les même-sexe mariages. Clearly such a personne deserved rien less than the guillotine!

Long-lost cousins? François (L) and Louis (R).

CJRdL: So that's pourquoi we have so many blood-soif sentiments dans ma chanson.

E: Oui, indeed I see that vous voulez remplir some ditches with impure blood?

CJRdL: It's very good for the terre, Eccles. However, by the Commune Agricole Policy, we're no longer allowed to do this. We shall have to rewrite La Marseillaise to make it plus politiquement correct.

E: Ah, les EU bureaucrats, hein? Tous les traditional country ways are disappearing, n'est-ce pas?

CJRdL: I blame the Belges.

E: Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle (now that's a nom aristocratique!), merci beaucoup.

David Cameron explains same-sex "marriage" to a Belgian.

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Previous entries for the Eccles Bad Hymn Award:

Lord of the Dance.    Shine, Jesus, shine.    Enemy of apathy.    Walk in the Light.
Kum Ba Yah.    Follow me.    God's Spirit is in my heart.    Imagine.    Alleluia Ch-ch.
It ain't necessarily so.    I, the Lord of sea and sky.    Colours of day.    The red flag.
Go, the Mass is ended.    I watch the sunrise.    Bind us together, Lord.    Our god reigns.
My way.    Ding-Dong! The witch is dead.    If I were a butterfly.
Journeys ended, journeys begun.    The Galilee song.    The perfect face.
Jesus Christ the apple tree.    On eagle's wings.    Moses, I know you're the man.