|
| "Planet Earth calling Keith, Planet Earth calling
Keith…" |
| "There are already
signs that some agencies are determined to promote a safe sex message to all young people,
irrespective of their age, schooling or religious belief." Cardinal Keith
O’Brien speaking at the conference of the Catholic Headteachers’ Association of
Scotland, reported in The Scotsman, 5th May, 2005. As Our Lord once probably
said, "And I say unto you: Up, Truly, you couldn’t make it."
Top Tim and attractively-costumed cleric, Cardinal O’Brien launched a fierce
attack on sex education this week, while speaking to Catholic Headteachers - always a
tough, critical audience for bollocks being talked by some bloke in a dress.
He said, (and I swear I’m not making this up), that :
"It appears that some agencies, in their legitimate determination to reduce
teenage pregnancies and sexually transmitted infections, appear only to be treating the
symptoms of the problem rather than addressing its root causes."
The root causes presumably being hormonally driven behaviour involving appropriately
designed shagging equipment.
The logic of the rationally challenged cleric’s position would lead us to conclude
that if the Church’s teaching of matters related to, you know, "down there"
, fail to stem the flow of sexual activity, then we’re talking cutting off the root
causes at the root, as it were.
Lovers of the Cardinal’s previous sane and rational interventions in this area
will recall
that last year he described sex education as " child abuse" . Well,
that’s something the Catholic Church should know all about, right enough… |
| Inside: In a
regretfully disrespectful manner, the editor of The JT would like to now take the
opportunity afforded by the above discussion about, you know, people "doing it",
to gratiously present the following carbon-dated gag: For reasons that need not detain
us here, Jimmy, a joiner from Coatbridge, finds himself washed up on a desert island with
Sharon Stone.
Blessed with a plentiful supply of wood and tools from somewhere, Jimmy builds a hut
and makes a decent job of getting food and such. Sharon soon involves Jimmy in matters
carnal, but every morning as soon as the sun rises, Jimmy disappears into the hinterland
leaving Sharon to wonder what all the banging and sawing's about.
Weeks pass, pleasurably spent exploring every bendy bit of Ms Stone, until one day,
Jimmy leads her into the forest to look at his project: a Scottish pub fashioned out of
local material.
Bidding her to remain silent, Jimmy presents Sharon with a waistcoat made of palm
leaves to wear, and insists she attach a moustache made of leaves. He positions her behind
the bar, steps back, then saunters forward, beckoning "the barman" with a bent
finger.
"Here" he says, leaning conspiratorially over the bar counter, "you'll
never guess who ahm sh*ggin’.." |
May 2005
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