Monthly Archives: May 2012

Keep the Bishops in the House of Lords, but make them fight for it!

In the days before democracy, education and Rustlers microwavable burgers, it was a given that religion leaders had a heavy-hand in deciding laws, since who could argue with the guys who spoke for the Almighty? Well, we could, now that we’re a little older, wiser and more sceptical in the wisdom of someone reportedly omnipotent who decides to speak through humans. These days, anyone in power who tries to justify self-interested actions by claiming to have had a personal chin-wag with Yahweh is considered, at best, a bit eccentric.

Since we’ve abandoned most of the advice in the Bible in favour of more tangible and evidence based beliefs, such as treating leprosy medically rather than the NHS subsidising the blood-sacrifice of birds, you’d think that having religious leaders directly involved in deciding policy would be superfluous. Not a bit of it. In fact, amongst the elected MPs in the House of Lords speaking for us lowly mortals, there’s also reserved seats for 26 Bishops who speak for God, and we know that they do because they told us they do. That’s proof enough for me!

The ‘Lords Spiritual’ are there to “provide an important independent voice and spiritual insight to the work of the Upper House”, which sounds about as useful as a chocolate teapot. An invisible chocolate teapot, orbiting Neptune.

The British Humanist Association has launched a campaign to remove the right of Anglican Bishops to sit alongside elected representatives in the House of Lords, arguing that such authority should not be granted to any special interest group and, in fairness, they’re correct.

Rowan Williams

Rowan Williams, the outgoing Archbishop of Canterbury with the face of an unholy union between Terry Pratchett and a blow-dried Furby, has defended the presence of the Lords Spiritual on the basis that it’s traditional for them to be there and they provide a unique ethical and spiritual insight. I’ve already described how much tangible utility there is in “ethical and spiritual insight”. Tradition is just a hollow, last-resort plea for submission, playing manipulatively on sentiment and nostalgia; the same emotion that stops you from admonishing the racist comments of an elderly relative. Tradition only persists by virtue of being tradition, the undeserved weight the word is given on fallacious assumption that the past should dictate the future.

Williams also claimed that the Bishops represented the views of the 70% of the British population who identify as Christian. Ignoring the fact that only a fraction of the population identify as Church of England, an Ipsom Mori poll published earlier this year showed that not only do the majority opinions in the country differ considerably from current Anglican teachings, but also 74% don’t think that religion should have any influence on public policy to begin with. William’s claim that the Lords Spiritual represent majority opinion is a bollocks-out lie and, even if it weren’t, most people don’t think that religion should have a look-in anyway.

Basically, the counter-argument consists of feckless whines and breaches of the ninth commandment.

Surprising as this may sound, I don’t want to remove the Lords Spiritual out of the House. In fact, I think we should extend the criteria to be amongst the Lords Spiritual to have a representative of every religion, and of every denomination within that, and every opposing school of thought within that. You could even have an atheist representative, all you’d need is a cassette of a weary sigh playing on loop taped to a broomstick.

What’s more, they should only have one vote between them all, so have to reach a concensus amongst their mutually exclusive faiths, values and opinions. Their discussion period should be limited to the time it takes to dissolve a Fruit Pastille in acid, and they must engage in a merciless knife-fight for the right to speak, provided they can perform a sufficiently impressive yo-yo trick, judged by David Blunkett.

Religion is too often given a free pass, this way they can earn their keep through sheer entertainment value.

If parents want to protect their kids online, why are they expecting us to do all the work?

I hate kids. I don’t agree with their lifestyle and think they’re directly responsible for The Rapid Decline of Society (TM) – by denying us the extinction we so desperately need – but I hate parents more. Parents are just people so self-obsessed they thought that, of course, the world wanted another version of them in the form of a diminutive, dribbling little shit-bag. Since I had no say in their decision to reproduce (I assure you, I would’ve been wholeheartedly against it), it irks me when the rest of the world is expected to kowtow to the fawning, spawn-worshipping will of parents.

Because the Universe and I have a mutually passive-aggressive relationship, along comes plans to filter the internet to block anything untoward from the innocent eyes of children. Though the original parliamentary inquest suggested tasking ISPs with providing optional filters, the plans being considered will block risque content by default and you must “opt-in” to be able to see it. So you’re “opting-in” to opt-out of a filter, a system that couldn’t be more arse-backwards if it’d just had surgery performed by Dr. Nick.

Claire Perry, the Tory MP who is leading the campaign, told BBC Radio 4, “The time is coming when the internet should not be treated any differently to any other form of media.” Politicians not understanding technology is nothing new, but you’ve got to worry when the people given the job of legislating for it fail to grasp the basic differences between television and the internet.

Internet TV?

The internet is not a media, it’s a resource. Television has a finite capacity in what it can show, which has to be scrupulously selected for mass-consumption, whereas the Internet is (theoretically) infinite in both content and means of conveyance. Television content has been excruciatingly produced, packaged and edited for mass-appeal and broadcast in real-time. Content on the Internet is deposited, in whatever form, to be accessed when and if someone chooses. Whereas there is a watershed on TV, the internet is self-organised into specific search terms and URLs that transparently declare themselves unsuitable for minors.

Sure, it’s possible to inadvertently stumble upon porn with something as innocent as an unfortunately worded search term or an imprudent spam blocker. So encouraging ISPs to develop and provide sophisticated content blockers for parents to activate is laudable. Insisting that the rest of us be subject to the same filter is downright patronising, setting a precedent that the government should be able to censor something it dislikes and denying us the freedom to choose for ourselves.

Louise Mensch

Of course, the protection of children isn’t the only reason to curb what we’re allowed to see; the government also wants to protect us from ourselves. Back in August during the London Riots, Conservative MP Louise Mensch, a woman who looks and acts like a cross between Seven of Nine and Gargamel, censured Twitter (on Twitter) suggesting that social networks be required to shut down during a national crisis. Ostensibly, this is to prevent people creating false alarms for the Police and stop us weak-willed proles from hearing about and participating in acts of civil disobedience; after all, monkey tweet, monkey do. It’s not like 24-hour rolling news coverage and liveblogs ever indulges in rumour-mill sourced padding or anything.

Diversionary tactics to try and take control of the internet have tried and failed many times, and I have no doubt that this latest one will be chucked out quickly enough. Let parents regulate what their offspring see online, and give them all the help they need (emphasis on the word ‘need’). But let the rest of us see whatever depraved content we want and leave us out of it. I hate kids, I shouldn’t be expected to help parent them.