Book of the Month: Fundamentally

This review contains spoilers. 

Non-spoiler summary - this is a fictionalised account of trying to deradicalise women who were tricked and trafficked into becoming brides for fighters in ISIS. It is very well written, told from the perspective of a female British academic who has traded academia to work on the deradicalisation programme for the United Nations. She meets a young woman from London who is now in a camp for former ISIS brides in Iraq. The story explores their tentative friendship during the labyrinthine process of leaving the camp and returning to the UK.

It's a very moving, witty, challenging and memorable book and I thoroughly recommend it.

++++++ Spoilers follow ++++++

This is a work of fiction that has such a ring of authenticity about it that the author, Nussaibah Younis, has added in a disclaimer at the back to say that no, she did not work for the United Nations when she worked in Iraq, and no, there are no internment camps for women who were trafficked into forced marriages to ISIS members in Iraq. Although similar camps do exist in other countries, and women have been left trapped, imprisoned and stateless after being deprived of their home citizenship.

However, Nussaibah did work in Iraq for a NGO and was advising the Iraqi government on how to deradicalise women who had joined, or were coerced into joining, ISIS. She is also a British academic who grew up in the UK, like Nadia the primary protagonist in the book. Whether there are any other similarities between her and Nadia would be an intensely personal question to ask, given Nadia's sexual experiences and her apostasy.

The different relationship Nadia and Sara, the other main character in the book, have with the religion they were brought up in was another very authentic element to the book. Nadia meets Sara in the camp where women who were married to ISIS fighters are being held. After a while it becomes apparent that Nadia's rebellion against the strictures of her religion left her open to her naivety being exploited in almost exactly the same way that Sara's idealism and wanting a more fervent version of her faith led to her being trafficked into a life of sexual slavery. 

Nadia's journey from a teenage true believer through to an apostate adult is an interesting look at natural deradicalisation. What is equally interesting is the way Sarah clings to her faith, despite being repeatedly married off to short-lived ISIS cannon fodder soldiers. She doesn't lose her faith despite the personal atrocities she experiences and resists the deradicalisation programme. She still wants the dream she had of a religious utopia to be possible, despite the reality she found herself in, and she doesn't want to let that dream go. 

The book's setting in the world of the UN also, sadly, feels very true. Nadia has to deal with competing internal political priorities. Some of the tangential storylines and prejudices expressed by the motley cast of supporting characters seem to be drawn from real life, even if the hypocrisy and corruption are dialled up to eleven. There are arguments between empire-building heads of department as they struggle for greater personal control of resources. The people needing help are the lowest priority of jaded career UN workers, many of whom seem to have ended up in Iraq by accident and are just serving their time until they can take another placement somewhere else. 

Meanwhile, we have Sarah and Nadia, slowly becoming friends despite everything. When it becomes apparent that Sarah will never be repatriated to Britain, and also apparent that she probably doesn't want to go back, they have to find an alternative place of safety. It all gets very messy and tense towards the end of the book, which kept me gripped until I had finished the story. 

This is my favourite fiction book so far this year and probably since I read Jennie Godfrey's The List of Suspicious Things last summer. It has a lot to say about religion, global geopolitics, fixing the problems of failed states, and human connection. It is profoundly hopeful, despite the many reasons the characters have to despair. And that, I think, is its most endearing quality. 

Book of the Month: Kraken

Kraken was sort of a Christmas gift. At Christmas I was given a book I already had so I went to a bookshop and exchanged it. I had seen China Mieville's books recommended on Reddit so thought I would give one of his books a go. And the dedication page made me laugh.

Who wouldn't want a comrade-in-tentacles?

This was written in 2010 so I'm a bit late to review it but I will try to limit plot spoilers to anything you would read in the blurb anyway.

The story centres on the disappearance of a preserved giant squid, from a display in the Natural History Museum in London. A curator in the museum gets drawn into a shadowy magical underworld of sects and prophecies where everyone is predicting an apocalypse, somehow linked to the vanished kraken. But everyone is looking for it, either to stop the end of the world or to control the destruction for their own ends.

It's clear that China had fun making up different cults and churches and then pitting them against each other. He also develops London itself as a character, a gestalt entity that is both a location and a source of information, if a person knows where to look and how to scry the future from it. 

China wears his influences boldly. This book strongly reminds me of the Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman collaboration Good Omens, and also the alternative London Below in Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. I suspect if I saw China Mieville's bookshelves, I would see Douglas Adams alongside Pratchett and Gaiman (although he might, like me, have taken Gaiman off the shelves since the accusations against him were made).

There are throwaway puns aplenty and almost too much wordplay. Beyond that, though, China writes in an arresting style with a barrage of metaphors, neologisms and portmanteaus. This section describing a bit of the city is typical of his style:

"A space between two concrete flyovers. Where the world might end was turpe-industrial. Scree of rejectimenta. Workshops writing car epitaphs in rust; warehouses staffed in the day by tired teenagers; superstores and self-storage depots of bright colours and cartoon fonts amid bleaching trash. London is an endless skirmish between angles and emptiness. Here was an arena of scrubland, overlooked by suspended roads." (p.357)

China is happy to reference TV and other cultural elements throughout the book. I was delighted to see Farscape included in a list of science-fiction shows. (I blogged about rewatching Farscape a couple of years back.) At one point one of the characters has a dream where he is TinTin being attacked by Captain Haddock. 

But it's not all pop culture. There are descriptions of magical practices that show some research. A reference to 'tekel upharsin' as a prediction of doom shows some niche knowledge of the Old Testament. The real-life grounding of the fantastical story elements in established media and myths makes them more believable.

There are also a lot of swearwords. Characters swear casually in their conversations, which felt realistic, and there is plenty of 'creative swearing', which is a very British thing, and was often very funny. For example, one character coins "munching wanktoasters" to describe members of an occult fascist sect.

If the warning about language doesn't put you off, I would add a warning that there are a couple of gruesome murders and almost murders. They are quite vivid so I felt it worth flagging up because overall I'd recommend people read the book. 

However, London as the best city evvah, gets a bit annoying. There are too many claims made about its uniqueness and special nature, as a locus for magic and the historic depth to its streets. That started to grate after a while. 

And in an ironic twist, I ended up reading a large chunk of the book on train journeys to and from London as I was working down there. On the return journey a man sitting opposite me asked if he could take a photo of the book cover because he thought it looked interesting. I'd never been asked that before. It was a slightly weird encounter befitting a slightly weird book.

First through the door!

The first people to deliver a leaflet after the General Election was called yesterday were... the witnesses to almighty Jehovah!

To be fair, those questions are very apt for the election period. I'm unconvinced by their answers to the question, though.

I will blog about actual election bumf when we get it. If we get any. This election seems like more of a foregone conclusion than any I've known.

Book of the Month - Malcolm X speaks his truth

I've just finished reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X, which was published in 1965, shortly after his violent death, by Alex Haley, the journalist to whom Malcolm narrated his life story. 

The version I read (pictured) was the 2007 edition. It included a short introduction by Gary Younge, which didn't really add much (and included a weird shoehorned in reference to footballer Zinedine Zidane). Alex Haley's Foreword on the other hand, was a riveting piece of biography and explained the process by which he collated the details of Malcolm X's life including the many sessions where he took notes as Malcom talked. 

My knowledge of Malcolm X before I read this was embarrassingly paltry. I knew he was involved in the civil rights movement (although it turns out he was actually quite critical of much of it) and that he had been killed relatively young. If pushed, I might have remembered the link with the Nation of Islam although I knew absolutely nothing about that movement. 

I feel grateful that Malcolm X took the time to share his life story. He doesn't hold back in detailing his failures and mistakes. His early life as a hustler, drug dealer and burglar in Boston and then in Harlem, New York, is a source of sorrow and shame to him. However, he also clearly sees how those experiences gave him some useful skills and experience that he put to use in later life as a Minister in the Nation of Islam and as a spokesperson for the movement. 

I have read a lot of conversion testimonies by people who have left behind lives of gutter crime, being transformed in some way by an encounter with Christianity. This is the first time I have read a testimony of someone converting into a different religion. But the mechanic is the same - discovering a sense of purpose, an internal renewal and change in moral outlook, a 'calling' to serve and a passionate tendency to take things to an extreme. 

All of this is evident in Malcolm X's description of his conversion to the idiosyncratic brand of "Islam" practiced by the Nation. He explains the Nation's teachings, many of which don't really hold up to serious examination. Although, in fairness, the idea that white "devils" were created as an act of rebellion against Allah is only as ridiculous on the surface as any other religious fables. As with all such stories, they represented a deeper truth - believable to Malcolm because of the brutal reality of growing up black in a deeply racist society where oppression for people with his colour skin was baked into the natural order. 

Reading his account of his early years, it seems inevitable he ended up as a street hustler. After his father was (apparently) murdered by white racists, his mother was driven into an asylum after having her children removed by social workers. Malcolm X is put in his place by school teachers who tell him to aim for a career "suitable" for black people rather than pursuing his idea of being a lawyer. He returns to that several times in his story - it was clearly a source of resentment for most of his life. Justifiably. 

The surprising element of his story is not that he ended up in prison. Where the story takes a turn is his 'rescue' by the Nation of Islam. When he leaves prison he rapidly ascends the hierarchy of the organisation, aggressively proselytising in the black community and founding mosques in cities across the USA. 

His success meant he eventually grew too big for the Nation and its founder, Elijah Muhammad, to deal with. Malcolm's rejection by the man he credited as his saviour left a deep psychological scar on him. It happened only a couple of years before his death and it's widely believed he was killed by members of the Nation on the orders of their leader. 

Following his departure from the Nation, Malcolm went on a Hajj to Mecca and travelled in Africa, seeking to improve the cause of black Americans by promoting brotherhood with Africans. This was in the heyday of post-colonial liberation for African countries. There is a tangible sense of hope that Africa was a rising power in Malcolm's descriptions of his travels. Sadly, that hope hasn't materialised in the sixty years since his death. 

His description of the Hajj, the joyfulness of the pilgrimage experience and the brotherhood he experienced with his fellow Muslim believers, is very compelling. It is the experience of a true believer deepening his faith, seeing the hand of God at work in every little circumstance. As very recent events in his life, this part of his story is obviously still hugely significant - he talks as if it is the culmination of his life journey. Which, tragically, it was.

Reading his life in his own words, it's hard not to like Malcolm X even if his opinions and attitudes have dated. His view of women, generally, is unenlightened, although he was in awe of his half sister, Ella. The Nation had very strict views on gender roles, which he absorbed uncritically as they aligned with his street hustler viewpoint that women weren't to be trusted. He also makes some sweeping comments about Jews even while claiming he's not being anti-Semitic.

However, Malcolm X would probably say I don't have a right to cast judgement on him, as a white man far removed from the context he lived in. I'd happily concede that. There is a comment he makes towards the end of his story that resonated with me:

"I'm for truth, no matter who tells it. I'm for justice, no matter who is for or against."

I felt I was reading a lot of truth in what Malcolm X narrated to his autobiography's author. 

The book ends with Malcolm presciently saying he expected to die young and violently. I felt sad as it seemed he had just reached a point where he had managed to outgrow the limiting half-truths of the Nation, and was embarking on a much more wide-ranging mission. He had moved through hatred of white people to a mature sense that while whiteness itself was still a huge problem, there was hope for white people as individuals - and indeed many were sincere in wanting to end racism. 

It has left me wondering what he might have achieved if he had been able to explore those ideas more fully.

Book of the Month - Unfollow

Last Christmas I met up with my friend Edwin and one of the things we discussed was reading habits. I set myself the fairly modest aim of reading one book a month... an aim that I've been failing at for most of the year. So far I've only blogged two books (in January and March).

Anyway, my third book of the month for 2023 (in September!) is Unfollow by Megan Phelps-Roper. Its her autobiographical account of growing up in the controversial and reviled Westboro Baptist Church, whose crude and offensive placard protests became a recurrent media story in the late 90s and continue even now. 

I remember discussing Westboro's hateful campaigning with church friends back when Megan was active in the protests. A group of us watched the documentary that Louis Theroux made about the church. The general consensus was we couldn't understand how people who claimed to believe the same sort of things we did had gone onto such a horrible tangent and become fixated on condemning "sin".

But reading this book, the feeling I kept getting was that the difference between my experience of growing up in a religious household and Megan's experience was just a difference of degree. The idea of being specially chosen by God and knowing the Truth that the sinful world is wilfully ignoring is very relatable. When I was growing up I was very aware that I was different to most of the people I knew because I went to church and was 'saved'. 

I'm not even sure that Westboro's beliefs are that far off the mainstream for many churches like the one I grew up in. What made Westboro famous was the church's actions rather than their beliefs. When Megan outlines the underlying beliefs about sex and sexuality, the world being sinful and under judgment and salvation only being for the chosen few I felt myself thinking 'Yep, I've heard that'. 

Although it's a hard subject to read about, and personally slightly triggering, Megan's writing style is absorbing and really hooked me in. It's novelistic, with excellent use of foreshadowing. The chapter about Megan and her sister, Grace, planning their escape from the church that was also their family was tense and had me worried for their safety. The whole book reminded me of the way Margaret Atwood constructs horror stories grounded in mundanity.

It was interesting to learn the origins of Westboro. Arch-patriarch Feed Phelps was famous for being a white lawyer who would take on civil rights cases in Kansas long before the church started protesting. He made enemies and refused to back down despite opposition because he knew that he was right to combat racism - and it doesn't take much to see how that strong-willed belief in the righteousness of his cause went on to fuel Westboro's attacks on gay people and anyone else the church labelled as 'sinners'.

The prompt for Megan to consider leaving wasn't really anything external. It was church politics and a disconnect between what the church taught and how the church leaders acted that poked the first chink in the logical armour she had built for herself. But the cognitive dissonance she felt between how things ought to be and how things actually were nagged at her. 

Megan details the unravelling of her faith in a moving chapter. What's noticeable is how fast she went from questioning one thing to realising that everything could be questioned... and the 'correct' answers were no longer satisfying. From that point on she started planning how to leave - an incredibly hard and brave choice to make which has left her implacably estranged from her parents, siblings and other relatives still in the church.

I'd like to say the story has a happy ending. Megan escaped and found love and support from many people outside the church. She has gone on to become an advocate for LGBTQ+ rights and a critic of religious extremism. But the book ends with a plea to her family members who have shunned her since she left. She desperately wants the people she loves to leave behind the prison they have constructed for themselves and the hope in her closing words lends a raw poignancy to her story. 

More religious marketing

We had some leaflets through the letterbox this week (nicely wedging the letterbox open when it was below freezing outside!) including this small one-sided leaflet that piqued my interest.

I find religious marketing interesting, and this in particular caught my attention because of the level of knowledge it assumes recipients will have about what it is promoting.

I presume this leaflet was a mass delivery rather than targeted, as it arrived alongside a leaflet for a roofer. Given that, I feel quite comfortable dissecting it because its not as if anyone thought "I know who would be interested in this" and sent it to me.

Also, I'm not mocking the event. If people want to spend 10 hours praying, starting at 8am in the morning on a Saturday, then they are free to do that all day. I'm sure there are worse activities people could spend 10 hours doing.

But having said that, I'm curious about the thought patterns of the people who have paid to have this printed and distributed. What is a 10 Hour Watchman Prayer? Are we supposed to just know that? Who is the Watchman? What is he praying for? There is no clue provided here.

It's teaser marketing. I could Google all this or look at one of the many social media channels included on the leaflet. But there's no call to action to find out more or discover why I should spend 10 hours praying on a Saturday in January.

That's assumption 1 - that I would know what this is all about without needing an explanation. 

Assumption 2 is that I recognise the name Mike Lakoju. Is Mike meant to be a big draw? I feel I'm supposed to recognise his name and think "I want to go an pray for 10 hours with him!" But I have no idea (sorry Mike) and this leaflet gives me no clue why I should have an idea, or even why he is important enough to have his face on the flyer.

Except it says Pst. I interpret that as meaning Pastor, because clearly they didn't have enough space to write the word out in full. However, that's another assumption that people would know that. It's not like 'Rev' being short for Reverend, which I think would be more commonly understood. 

The way it's written it's almost like they're whispering a secret - "Pssst! With Mike Lakoju!" 

There's also a dropped capital letter in the name of the church. Usually St John gets a capital letter on Evangelist, as it's part of his name. (There are other St Johns, like St John the Baptist.) That typo isn't going to influence my decision whether to go and spend 10 hours praying with Pst. Mike (because I wasn't going to go) but it's just another aspect of this marketing that feels less than optimal.

I'm curious how many people will turn up to this event after having the leaflet pushed through their door. (I'm not curious enough to go along to the event, though!) If I was going to predict how many people will come along as a result of this, I'd be surprised at one.

Reviewing this leaflet has been a good exercise in reminding me of good marketing practice. Firstly, identify a target audience. Explain who you are and your CV - why people should make an effort to attend your event. Make it clear what you want people to do and what benefit they will get from it. And include a call to action - in this case a 'come and join us' would do.

End of the EIIR era

While there has been an undercurrent in news reports for a little while regarding the health of Queen Elizabeth II, there was an unexpected suddenness in events last Thursday. The news cycle focused on the Queen under the care of doctors in Balmoral, it was revealed family members were travelling to see her, and then came the announcement that she had passed away, all in the space of an afternoon. 

This news rather eclipsed the installation of a new Prime Minister a few days earlier. That saga which started months ago had finally concluded with Liz Truss winning more votes from Conservative Party members - meaning that there was briefly a Monarch and a Prime Minister with the same first name. One of the Queen's last public appearances was welcoming the new Liz.

Events since the announcement of the Queen's death have unfolded quickly. The new king proclaimed at events around the country, a new Prince and Princess of Wales entitled, plans for a funeral procession and state funeral bank holiday announced. The "lucky unlucky" politics students I envied back in July have even more big political happenings to assimilate into their studies. 

But I feel like I am out of step with a lot of people right now, in this period of mandatory mourning presented as a time of unstinting sorrow by the BBC without any 'balance' or dissenting voices. (It's not like climate change or Brexit, when the state broadcaster will leave no rock unturned to find a voice to present the other side.)

Maybe my dislocation from the mainstream narrative is because I don't like being told how I should be feeling about things. It's inescapable. Mournful music played in fast food restaurants. Messages of condolences on websites and in apps. Endless rolling coverage and talking heads on TV. The subtext is very clear - you must feel sad; sadness is the only acceptable emotion. 

I have no doubt that the people who are posting about their sadness on social media, or are texting in their grief to radio stations, genuinely feel that way. While everyone knew the Queen was not going to live forever, this has been sudden, unexpected, a shock. It is a massive change to a key element of the societal background in an afternoon. For most of us - anyone under 70 - the Queen has been queen for all our lives. Change like that, beyond our control, provokes a sense of loss, which feels like grief. 

There is a theory that our culture is still very much 'keep calm and carry on', bear your burdens in silence, maintain a stiff upper lip, recognise that 'it could be worse', and so on. Even if we don't feel that way on the inside, we might project that to the outside. Then along comes a moment when we have permission to actually feel things, and all that grief comes out. It may even be easier to grieve for a public figure like the Queen, instead of processing the private grief for family members and beloved friends that is harder to face and deal with. 

That might explain some of the grief-talk. It's also true that lots of people admired and liked the Queen, or at least their projection of her. Because, really, nobody outside a very small circle of people actually knew her. What people like is a version of the Queen they carry in their own heads - a caring, decent human being who wanted to do the right thing, considered her regal duties as an act of service, and was friends with Paddington Bear. (And that seems to have been an image the Queen encouraged.)

People go as far as asserting that the Queen had a deep 'personal' Christian faith. The people claiming this seem certain, but it's impossible to know what anybody really believes about anything, let alone how deep their piety goes. Ultimately the only people who know the strength of a person's religious faith are the believer and their god, and I have doubts about how much the latter knows. 

In the last couple of days I have been really struck by this image, which sums up where we are as a country. (Borrowed from the artist Dayvid. who posted it on Twitter)

That picture caused me to stop because for all the nice versions of the Queen people have in their heads, she was still the monarch - pretty much the absolute representation of the institutionalised inequality and inequity that is baked into our society. One reason why I have been a republican for most of my adult life is because I see no reason why one person should be memorialised on an illuminated sign and another person be left to beg next to that sign.

However, now is apparently not the time for questioning privilege. People who have protested mildly at various ceremonies around the country have been arrested - one man in Oxford on his way home from church was arrested for just asking who elected the new king. He was later de-arrested because asking questions isn't actually a crime... yet. Other people have been threatened with arrest for holding up signs saying 'Not my king', or for holding blank pieces of card that they could write a protest sign on. 

We are mandated to grieve, not question.

But now is the best time to ask questions - and that is precisely why things are moving so quickly. That's why King Charles was proclaimed in key cities in the United Kingdom within 72 hours. That's why Prince William had the title Prince of Wales conferred on him so rapidly. 

This haste, while the rest of the country is pausing activities to mourn, is about acting fast to retain privilege. There can't be a gap in the accession, because if there was a brief window of time when we didn't have a monarch... people might get ideas that maybe we don't need a monarch at all. 

God's Favourite Idiot

Looking for something with short episodes to watch at lunchtimes, we happened across the series God's Favourite Idiot on Netflix. It stars Ben Falcone as the titular character - mild-mannered Clark, who is selected by God to convey a message of peace and love to all humankind, even though humankind isn't receptive to that message at all. Falcone's wife Melissa McCarthy also stars as Clark's love interest Amelie. Mild spoilers follow the publicity picture below.

The show meanders through eight episodes, setting up Clark's call to be God's messenger, his various failed attempts to get the message out, and the way the situation gets ramped up once Satan turns up to try and destroy him. Throw in an obnoxious televangelist who has made a deal with Satan so he can be on TV, the four horse-people of the apocalypse, and Clark's loyal, yet simple, co-workers and first disciples, and it seems like there could be a good TV show in there somewhere.

Sadly, it isn't that good. It felt as if Netflix saw the success of the adaptation of Good Omens on Amazon Prime and decided to try and get some of that playing-religion-for-laughs action. Good Omens did it better. Much better. Netflix presumably realised this because God's Favourite Idiot got cancelled halfway through it's planned run. The shortened series of just eight episodes ends with the final episode leaving the story hanging as if it would be continued. 

The feeling this was a subpar retread of Good Omens wasn't all that was wrong with the show. The scripts were patchy, with the feel that several scenes were being improvised by the cast. If that was how they were filming things then it needed sharper editing. There wasn't much pace in the sequence of events. While there were some funny scenes, there was too much reliance on Melissa McCarthy doing her trademark aggressive sweary ranting as if that was hilarious. It was annoyingly one-note, especially because she can do much more if it's demanded from her. 

However, I still found the series watchable. While the story plays fast and loose with (mainly Christian) religious concepts, there are two particular angles that tweaked my professional interest as a freelance theologian on hiatus. 

Firstly, there is a generic-ality to the religious "truth" presented in the message to Clark. When he meets God, in the guise of an elderly woman, in the bathroom at work, he is told that all religions are right and that as long as you are trying to love someone then you're on the right track. I don't think I've seen a clearer expression of the generic approach to religion on mainstream TV before. 

This summary is what people who don't have many - or any - deep religious convictions want religions to be like. They want religions to be about love, peace, harmony and goodness. There's an assumption that all religions are the same and seeking the same ends, and those ends are nice. It's how religions should be in the eyes of people who believe in a generic, fluffy, sorta Christian concept of God, heaven and all the rest. 

Within Clark's circle of friends, including his Muslim friend, this message is accepted. Mohsin, the Muslim character, is the only one who admits that he doesn't go to mosque very often or even know whether he really believes. Clark's other friends presumably define themselves as 'Christian', although one did say that she hadn't been sure whether there was a God or not. Clark and Amelie are both well versed enough to recognise certain religious concepts come to life, like the heralds of the apocalypse, so we can assume some Christian knowledge there. 

The second thing that struck me was the depiction of overt Christians. There is a televangelist, Reverend Throp, who denounces Clark as a scammer, but who then signs a contract with Satan (in human form) so that he can appear on America's Own Holy Network (pronounced as America's Unholy Network, with the implication that it's run by Satan). Throp coins an exclusivist catchphrase that "Only the righteous are right!" This exclusivism is in direct contrast to Clark's inclusivist revelation from God.

But there are also crowds of angry protesters gathered around Clark's house, paralleling the real life evangelical Christian protestors that accompany any religion-related news stories from America these days. These Christians are nasty, threatening, and are perfectly willing to brick Clark's windows. 

The snarling face of Evangelicalism as it has become in America isn't often directly challenged through portrayals like this. But what made me pause was the way the show just assumed this is how Evangelicals would react to anything they didn't understand or agree with - paint lurid placards and denounce the blasphemer. 

It's hard to argue that the scriptwriters were wrong. 

So, all in all, what to make of this TV show. It was derivative. Some of it seemed to be aimed at trying to upset and annoy religious zealots. There were some funny bits that made me chuckle. But it was the unintentional things that will stick with me - it didn't feel like the show deliberately set out to hold up a mirror to society to reveal what lots of people actually think about religion, and yet that's what it inadvertently ended up doing, making it more meaningful than anyone expected.

Tracts and trickery

Recently I met up with my longstanding friend, Mark (Hi Mark!), for a coffee. We chatted at length and after we collected our second coffees of the evening, we decided to switch tables. The table we moved to had some literature left on it that looked like this.

At very first glance, I thought someone had left a leaflet along with a decent tip for a hardworking busboy. Then I realised it was something else - and I got a bit excited. This is the first time I have seen an example of a "Fake Bank Note" religious tract in the wild.

When it's taken out of the other leaflet it looks like this.

That's right it's a one million pound note from the 'Bank of Eternity', which bizarrely seems to be endorsed by Simon Cowell. I doubt he has agreed for his image rights to be used like this. The point of the tract is to warn you that large amounts of money or even being as famous as Simon Cowell won't save you on judgement day, so you need to get repenting or you will go to hell. (I'm paraphrasing here, but that's the gist.)

Mark was a bit surprised about how keen I was to look at this bumf. But I have an interest in religious marketing (because I seem to get sent religious post regularly). I've also never seen this in use in the UK. I remember reading several highly critical responses to similar Fake Bank Notes being used in America several years ago - for example, in this post from 2014 on Stuff Christians Like - but I didn't ever expect to see something so tacky in use over here. 

I suppose, like most terrible things that develop in American culture, it was almost inevitable that they would show up in the UK eventually. I can only imagine the disappointment of a staff member thinking for a fleeting second that they have been given a generous tip, only to find it's a hard sell for religion. I can't think of anything more offputting, really. 

I was slightly impressed by the designer's attention to detail. The serial number starts JN316, a reference to John 3.16 - but I can't figure out if the rest of the serial number is meant to mean something. [Edit: Carol W thinks it might be another Bible reference - IS551 meaning Isaiah 55.1] It's a bit of a hidden gag that I appreciated even if the target audience wouldn't get it. There is also a line saying it's not legal tender. It's almost as if the "Bank of Eternity" isn't a real bank after all.

When religions copy strategy

Recently we have had some Islamic 'tracts' pushed through our letterbox. Over the years we have often had Christian material delivered, but Islamic leafleting feels new (although we did have some last year, which I blogged about). It makes me wonder if whoever is distributing these Islamic tracts has seen Christians doing it and thought it would be a good idea to emulate. 

There was a particular design choice that caught my eye on one of the most recent leaflets. It stood out for two reasons. Here's the leaflet in question:

It was the little dude with a big red question mark. Firstly, I'm pretty sure that is a stock piece of clip-art. It looks like the kind of thing that features in bad PowerPoints. But secondly, the red question mark is a key design component of the Christian evangelism course called Alpha. That really does feel a little bit like trading on another religion's prosetylisation tool.

In answer to the rhetorical questions, the answer is 'No, not really.' But, if I had wondered, there was a QR code on the back that would connect me to a website where I could "Ask a Muslim" any questions I had. I am a bit curious to know whether anyone activates the QR code - that's trackable and could inform us whether anyone responds to getting a religious tract through the door. Ever. 

This tract didn't come alone. It also came with this list of instructions from God to humanity lifted from the Qur'an. The QR code on the back of this one would have taken me to an online version of the Qur'an. (Would that make it the QRan?)

Some of the instructions aren't particularly direct. It felt to me that they had decided they needed to have 50 and then were stuck trying to reach that number. Maybe 50 is an important number. I honestly can't recall hearing that before though. Or perhaps it' because 50 instructions are five times better than just ten commandments?

The Mandalorian recycles a critique of religion

The Mandalorian was my favourite TV show of 2020 and the second series was even stronger than the first. But a conversation in the penultimate episode brought up some philosophical challenges to religious belief that surprised me. There are SPOILERS ahead - so stop reading now if that bothers you.

This is the way

The episode was titled "The Believer". The basic premise is that the Mandalorian and his team spring a prisoner called Mayfield to help them steal information from an Imperial base. Mayfield and the Mandalorian had crossed paths in the first series, and Mayfield ended up in a New Republic prison after trying to double-cross the Mandalorian, so there was an element of reconciliation and redemption about this episode; two big themes ripe for exploration.

Mayfield and the Mandalorian end up riding in an Imperial transport together. They have both put on stolen Imperial armour, which meant the Mandalorian had taken off his helmet and replaced it with a trooper's helmet. 

Then comes the interesting conversation. Mayfield comments that to the indigenous people on this particular planet the Empire and the New Republic are very similar. Both are external occupiers fighting their own war and the people are collateral damage in the middle. I've cribbed the dialogue from IMDb.

Mayfeld: Yeah. Empire, New Republic. It's all the same to these people. Invaders on their land is all we are. I'm just sayin', somewhere someone in this galaxy is ruling and others are being ruled. I mean, look at your race. Do you think all those people that died in wars fought by Mandalorians actually had a choice? So how are they any different than the Empire. If you were born on Mandalore, you believe one thing, if you're born on Alderaan, you believe something' else. But guess what? Neither one of them exist anymore. Hey, I'm just a realist. I'm a survivor, just like you.

The Mandalorian: Let's get one thing straight. You and I are nothing alike.

Mayfeld: I don't know. Seems to me like your rules start to change when you get desperate. I mean, look at ya. You said you couldn't take off your helmet off, and now you got a stormtrooper one on, so what's the rule? Is it you can't take off your Mando helmet, or you can't show your face? 'Cause there is a difference. Look, I'm just sayin', we're all the same. Everybody's got their line they don't cross until things get messy. As far as I'm concerned, if you can make it through your day and still sleep at night, you're doin' better than most.

Mayfield's questions about the Mandalorian's helmet relate to how, previously, the Mandalorian had insisted that removing his helmet was against his creed. He points out that the Mandalorian seems to be changing the requirements of his religion. That's an interesting thing to discuss in itself and maybe I will in a future blog post.

It's the previous dialogue that surprised me though. "If you were born on Mandalore, you believe one thing, if you're born on Alderaan, you believe something' else."

This is a criticism made of religious belief that is made currently in this galaxy as well as a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. I think I first read it in The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins - the idea that for most people their religious affiliation is linked to where they were born and the culture they were raised in. 

Accordingly, the fervent evangelical Christians raised in the American Deep South and the fervent Muslims raised in Islamic theocracies, and the fervent Hindus raised in India, and the fervent Roman Catholics raised in Ireland, Italy or Spain, and the fervent Mormons raised in Utah, are just the products of their time and place. In other words, any believer's religion is most likely to be the product of circumstances than anything else. Most people retain the religion they were raised in, even if they don't actively practise, which is why the number of people who gave their religion as "Christian" on the last UK census is over ten times as many as the number of regular churchgoers.

The challenge to believers from people pointing this out is, broadly, how do you know that you believe what you believe because it's true or do you just believe it because you've always been told that it's true? That's quite a question to reflect on.

For me, I'm just interested that this discussion is being had using Mandalore and Alderaan as proxies for names of religions. It's not the first time the philosophy of religion has crept into mainstream media. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 posited that the moral response to a god that caused suffering and pain was to seek to kill it. (I blogged about that here.) More recently the TV show The Good Place asked whether being 'good' to avoid punishment was genuinely being 'good'.

In the second series as a whole, the Mandalorian is confronted with several challenges to his beliefs, and this is one of them. I suspect for many people this dialogue would hardly have registered as making an important philosophical point. And yet the potential depth of this discussion, which didn't go on for long in the episode, adds something to The Mandalorian as a TV show, giving it some relevance to the world we inhabit.

Book review: The Roman Cult of Mithras

I recently made a joyous discovery. As a member of a Cardiff University library in my workplace, I have borrowing rights at any Cardiff University library, including the humanities library. As I am next to that library two evenings a week at the moment for Welsh classes, I've been able to go in for a nostalgic wander.

I've been wanting to read up on Mithraism for a while. So after I had made my lending rights discovery, I had a look to see if there were any books about it. There were several. I avoided any that talked about being a "bold new interpretation" or "exciting theories" in the blurbs because those are usually signs of crank authors, and went for what seemed a fairly solid introduction: The Roman Cult of Mithras by Manfred Clauss.

Mithraism is often described as a competitor with early Christianity. It was widespread across the Roman Empire, with links mainly to military installations. Mithras was worshipped in artificially constructed caves called 'speloa' (presumably where we get the English word 'spelunking' meaning exploring caves from), or now often described as mithraea (singular: mithraeum). They were usually very small temples, with low ceilings, a carved relief showing the god Mithras killing a bull, some statues and some ritual tableware. Mithraea have been found from Hadrian's Wall to Turkey, with lots along the Danube, the outer edge of the Roman Empire where lots of army units were stationed.

We don't know a lot about Mithraism because no writings survive, so the cult has to be recontructed from the carvings and other artefacts. That's what I liked about this book. It was basically a description of archaelogical finds and the reader was left to interpret them. The author mentioned some of the theories that have been put forward but noted that it is all open to interpretation. I quite liked that openness about the lack of firm knowledge.

Information can also be gained from surviving Christian writings that regarded Mithras worshippers as pagan enemies. We have to be a bit careful taking those accounts at face value. But combined with the archaeological evidence, a picture of the cult can be built up.

• Mithras was a religion for men. No women were members of the cult.
• There were several stages that devotees worked through after an initiation ceremony.
• People who joined the cult were given 'secret knowledge' once they had been initiated - that's why it's known as a "mystery cult". 
• Priests were called "Father".
• Devotees had a ritual meal of bread and wine together.
• Mithras was identified as being a version of Sol, the invincible sun god. (Although sometimes not; in some depictions he just got to steer Sol's chariot for him)
• The main motif of the bull-slaying is probably a mythologised way of saying the sun conquers night - the bull, with its crescent-shaped horns represents Luna, the moon, i.e. the night.
• Believers may have thought worshipping Mithras, the Invincible Sun, would make them invincible - which may be why it was so popular with soldiers!

The cult of Mithras was very popular, but worshipping communities were small. There was a lot of variation in practice, and in the types of statue or scenes from Mthras's life depicted in the mithraea. It was a very personal religion, so people tended to carve or commission carvings that meant something specific to them, and place it in their local mithraeum.

Several of the mithraea that have been excavated seems to have been systematically destroyed at the end of the fifth century, with the carved wall reliefs smashed into tiny rubble. It's generally assumed that this was the work of Christian mobs - and there are comments in Christian writings about the destruction of "caves", most likely mithraea. Christianity was, of course, the official religion of the Empire by then, and the Church had become a highly organised centralised power. So it was easy for Christians to suppress the independent, isolated, small communities of Mithras worshippers.

It was really interesting learning more about this forgotten mystery cult. There are quite a few parallels with early Christian practice, and before Christianity became the unstoppable juggernaut of the Empire's official religion, the practices of Christians and Mithraists would have looked quite similar to outsiders. They would have both been bizarre little group meetings with their own peculiar ideas about god-men who were the light of the world. There is even a possible trinitarian version of Mithraism depicted on at least one carved relief.

It would be a stretch to posit a common origin for the similarities between the two religions, but it has made me wonder how much bled over from mystery religions like Mithraism into early Christian practice and teaching. It certainly seems possible.

Maybe that weird religious mail is all just sensible marketing after all

After I posted recently about unsolicited religious mail (and how outlandish it tends to be), my friend Stewart (of late entry into the Christmas card audit fame) asked me if there was a possibility that I was on a database of people whose faith was "up for grabs".

That amused me. But then I thought about it and I thought, actually that would make sense. After all, marketing tends to work on  people who are susceptible to the product and anyone who has known me for any length of time will know I have an interest in religion. It makes a lot of sense to pitch religious ideas at people who are already known to have an interest. They are much more likely to buy into it.

I still don't know who sent me these

This is something that strikes me about the church planting craze. It seems to have slowed down a bit in Cardiff now, but one point it felt like people were moving here to plant churches every other week. But what I noticed from those is that a new church plant seemed to attract people who were already disaffected with their current church, or who were looking for a new experience, or who were between churches for whatever reason.

Having been a distant observer of my parents' church plant for a long time, I know that several of the "new" people who joined that church over time had come from other church traditions, or had moved from other areas and were looking for somewhere to call home. I don't know what the figures are for church plants comparing transfer growth with completely new conversions, but I bet the figures for transfer growth are higher than church planters would like to admit.

It's just simply easier to make sales to people who are already interested in the product. This is true of anything - it's why Amazon and other online retailers keep advertising stuff to you after you've bought something. I know people often say how stupid it is if, say, you buy a new headboard for your bed, and Amazon then keep targeting you with adverts for headboards. It does seem daft. Like how many of those will you need? But, what if you aren't happy with your purchase and decide to return it? There's a fail rate in all sales and those companies now know that you may be in the market again if your purchase doesn't work out. There's literally no other way of predicting who else would buy a headboard, so it makes sense to target that demographic.

Apply the same logic to religion, and every religious organisation looking to score 'sales' should be targeting people who are already religious, who may be feeling disaffected, alienated or bored by their current church, or even their current religion. It's got to be easier than convincing people with no interest in religion and who are doing fine without it.

So, maybe I am on a database somewhere. The question now is, how do I get off it?

Weird religious unsolicited mail volume 3

A few days ago we got a large envelope through the post addressed to "The Occupant" at our address. When I opened it, inside was a book about Islam and two booklets, all produced by an Islamic charity that is trying to win hearts and minds for Islam.

They are substantial publications and, as you would expect from something designed to persuade you to become a Muslim, they start from the preposition that Islam is the Truth and the best thing for all human beings. 

The booklet about Muhammad has an interesting blurb on the back.

"There is no doubt that Muhammad matters." That's a unarguable starting point. It also struck me as being almost identical to what Christians would say on a booklet about Jesus. I'm not sure if that's intentional or not.

I don't know how the people who sent this to me got my address. Maybe they have been mailing the entire neighbourhood. Islamic unsolicited post is new to me, and this isn't the most random religious post I've received. In 2015 I got sent some photocopied pages of absolute loopiness that I'm still not a hundred per cent sure was serious. I blogged about it back then. Seriously, you have to read it.

Then in 2016, I got sent some Chick Tracts through the post. If you don't know what Chick Tracts are, they're ultra-fundamentalist Christian evangelistic propaganda, mainly written by a guy called Jack Chick, that go beyond asking you accept Jesus into your life, and basically tell you that whatever you are interested in is inspired by demons. (Someone even turned a Chick Tract about demons running Dungeons & Dragons games into a horror movie called Dark Dungeons!)

I got sent three by someone, who decided to stay anonymous. They did helpfully write some advice on the back for me, though, recommending some books and telling me to have house meetings to discuss things. When I posted the pictures on Facebook someone else in my Friends list knew someone who had been sent something similar, so I don't think it was an isolated thing aimed at me personally.

I have to admit I haven't held any house meetings to discuss things. Years ago I read God's Smuggler by Brother Andrew. I'm not sure how it would help, unless I was embarking on a career smuggling Bibles.

There's a few common themes to all these mailings:
1) I don't know who sent them to me
2) I don't know how those people got my address and why they thought I would want to receive this information
3) Whoever sent them to me seems to think that sending unsolicited reading material through the post is the best way to engage me in their religious ideas
4) There has been no follow up (not that I want any)

I am sure that whoever has sent me these things has done it with the best of intentions. They want their truth to illuminate my life. Ultimately they want to save my soul. They may even feel that they are obeying a direct order from God. But if it's so important, it's a shame it's so ineffective.

15 Christmas cards from the ACCA '18

Ooh, you lucky, lucky things you. In the past I've shown off 10 or a dozen Christmas cards that we've been sent. This year you get 15.

Let's start, like we usually do, with a token religious card or two. Religious cards are usually dire. I don't know why. In Christian theology, Christmas marks the actual moment when the creator God of the universe was born as a tiny, helpless infant, on a quest to redeem humanity from the stain of sin. Quite how you can make that idea boring, I don't know. But card companies do. Repeatedly.

Anyway, I quite like this card.

Obviously, it's not particularly interesting as a picture, but the artistry in the design elevates it above the herd of boring stables and lone stars in dark nights above stereotypical middle eastern townscapes.

But Christmas seems to have transcended its religious roots, merging with and absorbing all kinds of other traditions. And extra stuff seems to get heaped on with every passing year. Like Christmas jumpers. They started off a few years back as a bit of a joke. Now they are mass-produced in Chinese sweatshops year-round in anticipation of the cheap novelty jumper frenzy every December. 

If you were going to choose one cultural accretion to mash up with the religious aspect of the holiday, why not Christmas jumpers? I actually really liked this card with cutesy nativity characters on jumpers.

Of course, we all know who the real star of Christmas is. Move over Jesus, the kids are more interested in Santa anyway.

This year we got an advent calendar card with Santa on. It arrived the end of November. There are elves behind the doors - but you'll have to take my word for that because I scanned it with the doors shut.

Who buys Santa presents? Inquiring minds want to know.

Snowmen, apparently. Goodness knows what he's wrapped up in there. Something frozen, I hope. 

Speaking of snowmen, this chap amused me. However, this is one of the cards that arrived in an orgy of glitter, which I am still noticing on the carpet.

Some newish themes came our way this year, particularly animals in the snow. This blackbird had a mscheivous glint in his eye.

And this donkey looked surprisingly chipper, despite only having a scarf to ward off the perishing cold.

(Seriously, animals do not stand out in falling snow. Animals are smarter than that.)

Another random theme, featuring on two cards this year, were hares and moons. Not mooning hares, although that will no doubt feature at some point as any cultural shift gets debased. These cards were captioned "Hare by Moonlight" and "Moonlit Hare". See if you can work out which was which.

We had no dogs in Santa hats this year (which deeply disappoints me) so I'm declaring hares and moons as the new dogs in Santa hats, in terms of card fashions. I guess they'd also count as 'animals too dumb to shelter from falling snow' along with the donkey and the cheeky berry-thieving blackbird. (You know it's not his berry. He's nicking it. You can tell by the glint in his eye. And good for him. We need more anarchic animals taking on humanity; pinching berries, burning stuff, overthrowing capitalism.)

Another macro-theme would be 'cards that people send me to mess up my audit'. The next one clearly falls into this theme. I'm fairly certain my friend Stewart was trying to derail me with this card.

Also, now I have to have a llamas category because someone thought it wise to send us this.

I didn't want a new category but Cathy insisted, because llamas.

Penguins - that's a sensible Christmas category that we've always had since the audit began back in 2012. (Ah, remember 2012? We'd just had the Olympics. The nation was united. We weren't going to be leaving the EU and plunge into economic chaos because a bunch of gammons were fed up with foreigners coming over here and doing all the menial jobs and paying tax on their earnings. A simpler time.)

Anyway, enough of the reverie about a time before the country turned into a toxic hot mess. Penguins. They're cute on their own of course. But even cuter as a couple.

The "Cosy Christmas Cuddles" card was Cathy's card to me. It's probably not that surprising that every year two of my favourite cards are the ones that we give to each other. I went native with my choice. You can't get more Welsh than two sheep saying Happy Christmas in Welsh.

Seriously, how cute are they? I bought this card when I saw it in November, instead of procrastinating and doing my usual 23rd December late dash to a supermarket.

And so, on to the last card I'm going to show you from this year's collection. This was from my northern-dwelling sister-in-law, Abby. It's a Geordie version of a popular Christmas song. It's the perfect marriage of concept and design and it's even got the Angel of the North on it in faint outline. Now, that's my kind of Christmas angel.

Thanks for reading this. Only 49 weeks until Christmas 2019!

The big Annual Christmas Card Audit 2018 (ACCA18)

I get a lot of questions about this audit, mainly along the lines of 'Are you going to do your audit again this year?' It seems to be the most interesting thing I do, which, now that I think about it, doesn't make me sound like the most thrilling person on the planet. (And quite a few people are deliberately sending me cards trying to bugger up my categories. I know who you are.)

But I do find this sort of thing interesting. The trends. Why are the rich, well-dressed three kings of the Orient so much more popular than the smelly shepherds? Why do religious Christmas cards almost never mention Christmas? Why are penguins perennial paradigms of Christmasness? What happened to all the dogs in Santa hats (none again this year!) The numbers. The charitable causes. The glitter.

Ah, the glitter.

Can I have a word about the glitter? It's incredibly bad for the planet. But never mind that, just when I've finally managed to hoover every stray bit of tinsel and fake green bits off the tree (why do plastic trees shed?), I then have to take down the Christmas cards. Glitter doesn't stay stuck. It's one of the laws of physics, I think. (Maybe I should have paid more attention in science class. If it's not a law, it should be.) Or rather, it doesn't stay stuck where it should, so I now have a glittery carpet, glittery socks, glittery thumbs and by the end of this, a glittery keyboard too, no doubt.

I'll get to the stats in a minute, but first something we've never received before - a very early Christmas card that doubled up as an advent calendar.

And so, on we go. New categories are asterisked.

Total number of cards: 82 - a year-on-year decline of 8 

Hand-made / home-produced cards: 7 (same number for the fifth year in a row)
Cards designed by kids: 5
Cards with glitter: 17 (exactly the same as last year)

Cards sold in aid of charity (or fundraising):50
Total number of charities represented: 36
Most popular charity represented: British Heart Foundation were the winners this year with 6. Cancer Research UK and the Traidcraft / SCIAF / CAFOD / Christian Aid combination were joint second with 5.

Religious themes
Religious-themed cards: 30 (down 1 from 2017)
Cards featuring the Nativity: 15 (down 1 from 2017)
Christmas story 'characters':
Three kings: 6 (same as last year)
The shepherds: 1
The star of Bethlehem: 1
Angels: 1
*Choirboys: 3 (All three looked very much alike - groups of choirboys in red and white robes standing outside a village church in the falling snow.)
'Cartoony' religious: 1

Other themes
Santa: 6
Penguins: 3
Bears: 1 
Deer/reindeer: 1
Christmas decorations: 2
Christmas trees: 6
Christmas food: 4 (mainly Christmas puddings)
Robins: 2
Donkeys: 1 
Sheep: 3
Winter scene/scenery: 3
Snowmen: 5
Licensed characters: 0 (no Star Wars cards this year)
*Llamas: 1 (Cathy wanted this as it's own category, even though it's really just a Peruvian deer)
*Hares and Moons: 2 (This year's 'dogs with Santa hats' type of trend, maybe? But less joyful. Because a dog in a Santa hat is always fun, even if it's a grumpy pug. but hares by moonlight look a bit mournful.)
*Holly and wreaths: 3

Messages (front of card only)
Cards that mention 'Christmas' on the front: 30. Only 6 of them were religious themed. This just confirms my annual observation that religious themed cards don't use the word Christmas. Also 1 card saying Nadolig Llawen. 
"Seasons Greetings": 1
Mentions "Jesus": 0 but 1 card did have "Emmanuel" on it
Bible verse: 2 (Well, kind of. They both said "unto us a child is born" which is a Bible verse, but neither had a Bible reference saying where it was from. But I'm going to count them because otherwise there would be zero.)
*Lines or titles of Christmas carols (including) "Joy to the World": 7
*Lines or titles of Christmas songs: 3

Previous years:
2012
2013
2014
2015 plus 10 favourite cards, senders analysis and Bible verse breakdown
2016 plus favourite cards
2017 plus a dozen favourites and Christmas carol audit