Sonny Bill & The Mormons

Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I was a Mormon.

Not because I have a hankering to find God, it’s just that I just love their uniform. And they wear it so well; rain or shine you’ll go a long way before you find anyone wearing the classic white shirt and black tie combo quite as sharply as a Mormon does.

Cyclists could take note from the Mormon too for he doesn’t need to invest in those silly “I’ve got more pretty labels than you” lycra numbers that so many of you wear. Oh no, all the Mormon needs are two bike clips (one for each leg) and the truth.

I once had a divine moment with the Mormons.

It all started when I contracted chicken pox at the grand old age of twenty. I was consequently holed up in the flat feeling rather sorry for myself, watching daytime TV, going through the flatmates underwear draw – that kind of thing – when there came a knock at the door.

On the doorstep were two Mormon girls, one of which was a gorgeous, blonde, American girl.

Maybe it was the fumes from the cream they give you to rub on the scabs but for some reason I thought she was an angel and after politely declining their offer of a chat on account of said blistering, porous rash, invited them back for a cuppa the next day.

Needless to say I spent most of that next morning prepping myself for a meeting of porno proportions. I can’t recall the number exactly but I probably took the edge of twice, maybe three times. Yes, I may well have been sick with the complexion of a kid working at McDonalds but I was betting on working the ClubDes charm that day I don’t mind telling you.

Imagine my complete surprise and I’ll admit, terror, when the knock came and I noticed out the corner of the lounge window, not one, not several, but tens of Samoan Mormon boys converging on my doorstep.

Now I know they say God works in mysterious ways but he damn well knew what he was doing that day. Either they were going to leave having converted me or it was going to be one hell of a gang bang. I never did answer that door that day, or any other time the big fulla has knocked.

But I love that Mormons are what they present themselves as. If they knock on the door you know what you’re going to get, which is more than I can say with Rebel fucken Sport, the weakest sports store ever.

They’ve spent a lot of money this year on having brick shit house and all round hunk of man spunk, Sonny Bill Williams, do their ads. I think they should’ve spent their money on organising their stores so that you can actually find something and stocking the place for if and when you do.

This is what happens when you have a virtual monopoly of a retail genre like Rebel do. You can pretend to have sales which are really nothing more than a slight reduction in overpriced stock and you can hire staff more interested in dancing to the radio playing in store than knowing where the shin pads are kept.

Because where else are we going to go aye? The guy on the High Street who sells fishing rods, rifles and aertex shirts, in that order? He wouldn’t even know what a T90 is if you showed him a picture, even then he still wouldn’t give a shit. He certainly wouldn’t stock it any time soon.

But, just like the Mormon, what you see is what you get. Amen to that.

Scientology, or Soggy Biscut?

If there is two sure things I’ve learnt in life its: Don’t believe the hype and don’t fuck with God.

Like the time two Mormon girls came to my door whilst I was home from work sick one day. One was a gorgeous young blonde American girl; the other was good from afar but unfortunately far from good. Never the less, I invited them to both come back the next day when I knew I would have ample time to clean myself up and bone them both. Imagine my surprise when I found that several strapping young Polynesian boys had taken their place the following day! Luckily I had spotted them from the spare room and spent the entire 25 minutes they remained on my front step crouched silently in the spare room hoping they could not hear me soiling myself. The lesson I learned that day? Don’t fuck with God.

Nor should you pretend to be God or even make like you are in his circle of trust, like the Scientologists do. They claim to be a ‘religion’ by having ‘Church of’ in their official title. They even use the cross in some of their literature but hey, so did the Nazis. There are even expensive buildings scattered around the world with big signs that read ‘Churches of Scientology’, but you can bet there is no praying going on inside. They’re all too busy counting the money the make pretending to be religious, because in most countries, religious groups don’t have to pay tax!

Scientology is fast becoming the sort of pseudo secretive sect that makes it seem as though everyone else is on the secret, but you. It’s all starting to smell a bit too much like the bullshit the Free Masons built up around themselves with all that talk of secret codes, initiations and handshakes. Some folk will have you believe that the Free Masons are to be implicated in every major conspiracy theory going. I for one don’t believe any of it. I reckon the Masons were and are a bunch of middle aged men who get together once a week for a game of soggy biscuit. They might have a secret handshake but hey, if that’s what they get up to who wants to shake their hand anyways?

Carlos the Jackal is another prime example of why you shouldn’t believe the hype. During the seventies and early eighties when international terrorism was having its best period for ages and more planes around the world were getting hijacked than there were getting in the air, there emerged this persona of ‘Carlos the Jackal’. Carlos was back then what Bin laden is to the world today, only Carlos wore cooler suits and a retro style befitting of the worlds most wanted man. He also had an afro. Not a cool black mans afro, more a sleazy Cuban afro. During this time anything that got blown up was attributed to Carlos, much to the annoyance of the actual pricks who’d put in the time and effort to blow the thing up and then didn’t even get the props afterwards!

The filth never caught Carlos but investigative writer David Yallop did and found out that the guy was nothing more than a two bit terrorist wannabe who stuffed up his first assignment so badly he never got another by his superiors. And yet, the legend lived on and grew, just like it did with the Free Masons and like its starting to with the Scientologists. Why? Because of fear. No one wanted to actually tackle the cause of terrorism, not when it was easier to attribute it to a mad man with an afro who could not be stopped.

Scientology should have been stopped long ago. It was thought up by a guy who did hypnosis and wrote science fiction novels for a living. Before he wrote the good book of Scientology, the founder told some of his mates that he planned to start a religion that would make him a lot of money, which he has. You’d think at this early stage alarm bells would be ringing for prospective devotees, but apparently not. One of his sci-fi books was made into a movie by John Travolta who, funnily enough, is a paid up member of the Church of Scientology. I’ve been told the movie is shit but I can’t really comment as I haven’t seen it due to the fact that I suspected it would be shit.

Scientology as a business has made shit loads of cash and members of the Church get a commission if they recruit new members. Tom Cruise, the man midget with the Mohican's haircut is now officially the Church’s Number 2. Tom the Jackal. Why is it that cult religion’s are all headed by guys who either a) have the most money or b) have fiddled the most kids? In a move that is straight from the Joseph Goebbels book of Propaganda, the Scientologists are legally trying to get the likes of Google, Yahoo and other search engines to remove from their results any pages that contain negative comments on Scientology.

Hardly the work of a movement that would have you believe that it’s a religion and not a money making enterprise. Now I’m not against religion by any means - what ever gets you through the day y’know - but when they start sucking the hard earned cash out of people who are desperate to believe in a higher order of things and then try to make like thats not what they're doing, then they deserve to have there hype exposed for what it is; bullshit.

I only hope that when the Scientologists go all Waco on each other, no one misses shooting Tom.