Sunday, 22 November 2020

Tis Flaxen in his role of Agony Uncle

I have decided to try my hand at this ‘agony aunt’ thingy. It can’t be too hard, can it? I’m a wise old scrote who has experienced the cup of life to the full. Little has been denied to me in my hard, rollicking, roller coast ride of existence. Thusly, I think I’m fully qualified (I have a grade 4 CSE in wood work & grade 5 in Technical Drawing) to dispense my perspicacity with veritable verve and insouciance (nay torpor). Let us proceed without visible restraint. Or in other words: Flaxen Saxon writing complete and unmitigated, bollocks (as is my wont).


A reader writes……..


Dear Flaxen Saxon, I have a teensy whitsie issue with my next door neighbour (tis Mr Lighthouse Mugumbo). Over the garden fence, one day, we discussed, theological issues, akimbo, which have brought forth ire and hysterical dissent. Anyway, my neighbour is of the opinion that Jesus was born of woman and therefore mortal, but also partakes of the divinity of God. Jesus, whilst on earth, was fully human and only reverted to divinity once he was transported to heaven where his essence merged with God’s essence and the essence of the Holy Ghost to become One Godhead. I do not agree, according to my mind, Jesus’ entity and essence was always fully divine. His human, mortal guise was a pretense and his appearance merely mimicked that of a living, breathing man. His apparent mortality was a façade; an apparition; a phantasm and a trick of the light.


Flaxen responds with aplomb.


The question of Jesus’s nature, although controversial during the first 3 centuries, after our Lord’s ascension, was finally settled at the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD. Your manifest and steadfast viewpoint is in accord with the Nicene Creed, fully ratified at the council of Trent, in the 16th century. Therefore your neighbour’s conception, perception and deception of Jesus’s full nature is heretical and consequently, therefore, your neighbour descends into the abyss that is apostasy. Of all the sins, the sin of heresy is the most heinous. The sin of heresy sins against the God’s majesty and is a direct challenge, and grave affront, to his divine dominion; incendiary redress is demanded, forthwith!


So how are we to deal with your neighbour and his grave and cardinal sin? There are those, no doubt moved by pity and false compassion, who would countenance any means possible to mitigate the sin. Renouncing heterodoxy will not do on this occasion. Through their willful attentiveness and their willingness to appease they also descend into grave heresy, themselves. Do not vex your Lord, for his wrath is like your winky being gnawed upon, and consumed, by a divine host of ferrets- consisting of Shagger and his rather large, extended family of Muscidae. 


Regardless of misguided sympathies, the only true way of dealing with a heretic after committing the unpardonable, is a swift and severe burning. Forget the ‘light singeing’ option beloved by our less committed brethren. Compassion, in regard to heresy, is also a graven/craven heresy in itself.


You must gather a gaggle of stout, stalwart yeoman (and a couple of ferrets, Shagger included), collect faggots (not the winky up da bum kind, Arse) and wend to your neighbour’s domicile. You must bind your neighbour’s wrist with sisal and soon thereafter, administer a sound scourging with a yew rod flecked with slivers of iron. Thereafter, place a stave unto the ground and hammer until firm and non-compliant and waverth not in a stout bluster, intermittent or otherwise. The heretic must be soundly swaddled with strong hemp. If the heretic screams for quarter, the tongue must be binded, otherwise the occasional passersby may be discombobulated by the discordant and disconsolate vocalisation.


Liberally apply tallow and pitch to the heretical wretch with a lavering stick. Apply lard, spare no crook or rugosity. Ensure that the genital area, which is the source of all sin, is well anointed with camphor. Place the flaming brand unto the base of the brushwood. Allow the flames to consume the heretic. The ensuring cries from the sinful sinner (tautology, no less) should be seen as a song, foreboding and alluding to the eternity of hell, where the flames quencheth, not at all.


Once consumed by the cleansing inferno (hand of God?), remove the charred remains and cast unto the local midden pit 

(32A Cherry Street) to be scarfed by the local hounds and swine. 

Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, people can be forgiven all their sins and every slander they utter” (Mark 3:28), but then He gives one exception: “Whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven; they are guilty of an eternal sin” (verse 29).


I hope this instruction/injunction helps. Now, go forth and free the heretic’s soul from this life and let Shagger and his heavenly host do their worst. Arse


Yours sincerely,

Flaxen Saxon

                               Saint Shagger contemplating gnawing orf a heretic's twinkle



  1. Heresy is an abomination as Emo Philips will attest: Heretics

    1. Emo Philips is clearly not a well man.

    2. I like Emo: he's utterly odd, surreal and unique. Much like my sense of humour.

      Much as I like your tendency to see incendiaries & conflagrations as the answer(s) to life's annoying little problems.

    3. Fire, as a cleansing instrument is a much underrated tool. Of course it had its heyday during the inquisition and at other instances in history when clerics became hysterical about heretics. Joan of Arc found the whole experience, cathartic (apparently).