Religion and Violence

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Religion and violence

Stanley Wilkin

Is there a connection between religion and violence? This article says there is.

acadenia.edu

Religion and Violence:



how monotheistic religion and violence have developed hand in hand.


academia.edu.

Stanley Wilkin

the priests of chilon castle

just published on issuu-Stanley wilkin

the priests of chilon castle

Poem-Dupois

When the sun appears
the wind dies-
When the wind dies,
so do we-
Our eyes torn out by fear.

Moslem debate (moi)

Today I had a debate with a moslem, a true believer, on why Islam is true and others not. His arguments I have heard before and probably are those taught in mosques.

1) Christianity has three gods (of course it doesn't and even if it does, so what?). He believes in the superiority of monotheism. Given its history, perhaps not a good idea. A single god is the only true kid on the block. Why?

2) Christianity and other religions are inferior (he did not use such terms but meant it) because their texts contain contradictions. Is purity of text or style really an argument? This of course goes back to the belief that it was one inspiration. Again, what does that prove? A smooth oral and written expression (not true by the way) is evidence of a true god. No. It isn't. I made the point that the same claim could be made of Mein Kampf.

3) He irritated me by saying-why are you frightened of religion? and you must have had bad experiences of religion

Of course, this is arrogant, offensive and disrespectful. I've had this argument from Christians as well. But is it because of their own inner doubt? I suspect so!

As he had made cheap shots, I made one of my own that I could not appreciate a religion founded by a war leader and murderer. He made no response. But hey, that is a powerful contradiction.

Poem-Dupois

It was the whale that did it,
not the dolphin
the porpoise
or shark.
It was the whale that killed him,
crushed him,
demolished him
for a lark.

FLOOD=A. Dupois

Dull pattering through agonised woods
fumbling winds, serrating storms
animals vanishing into the undergrowth
scurrying beneath the ground
birds huddling under leaves.
The river breaks its bank
water spreading out like vomit
villages swamped with infestation.
The storm batters and bruises,
bellowing through the night like a troubled god.

A. Dupois

ghoul-

Silently amongst the shadows

It moved, flesh

Dangling from its jaw.

Lurching away from the light.

The moon is its enemy. It survives

In impenetrable black, terrified of

Day, gnawing on rodent's bones and dead cats

Pining for fresh human flesh

It is cursed to avoid.

Once, it was a man

With an elegant house enlivened with peonies

A BMW parked in sight of the neighbours

A £1000 suit. He drank the finest brandy

From coloured glass and had

A choice of mistresses.

Rich and handsome,

Women were an easily acquired accessory

Without substance. Used to

Wealth, he treated others with marshalled contempt,

And back then, he hadn’t yet learned to be nice to witches

Equally, he hadn’t learnt

To avoid creepy places.

One cold damp night, swelled up

With six brandies, groping

 Through the poorer part of town,

Before  sightless window and embedded shadows

He dumbly heard  the flat clap of heavy footsteps

The sly steps of the stalker

He darted looks around and around,

Shivering in trepidation. Dark clouds

Flooded the sky,

The light disappeared,

A blood soaked hand fell upon his shoulder

And teeth dug deep into his neck.

His flesh fell away, his veins dried

His face caved in like a corpse

His breathe ceased. In a moment,

His attacker gone, he was no longer a man

But a ghoul.

The witch’s humour, although rarely seen,

Was excessive and unrelenting. Not only had

She cursed him to be a ghoul

Forever, but a ghoul that feared the very

Flesh he was meant to feed on.

Alone, she could be heard chuckling

Thinking of his fate once Eastenders was

Over, settling down for the night with a cup of

Earl Grey under a bright blue duvet.

Increasingly bent, hands dripping with mud

And corrupt flesh, he avoided cemeteries,

His natural feeding ground, scrambling instead

In gardens and parks, searching for foxes.

He howled with hunger.

Fox meat tasted foul; rat indigestible

Reeking of urine.

He gobbled insects with dissatisfied fury.

 Scavenging through dustbins

For scraps; half eaten chunks of meat.

By day he slept beneath the earth,

The stench of the tempting dead, his

Near neighbours,  filling his nostrils

Pestered by worms which burrowed

Into his discoloured skin

Creeping into his mouth and swimming through

His eyes.

His reflection instilled fear,

Afraid of his image, growing

Daily demonic and bestial, falling on

All fours, covered with fetid fur

And poisonous saliva.  Scurrying

Through the city like an unwanted pet.

It pays to be nice to everyone, no matter who

Just in case, they put a curse on you

The waitress with the beautiful smile just might

Be a ghastly creature of infinite night.

God the estate agent

The Isis destruction of ruins in Syria serves of course to claim the past for Islam. But this is a continuation of a century long claim that the Near East is Islamic and not a mixture of faiths and people. Edward Said, a cultured and intelligent man did the same, creating a them and us separation-the west was Christian, the east Moslem. Orientalism is another name for Islamic. Isis have attempted to make that a reality. The Moslem Brotherhood attempt the same in Egypt. Islam is the dominant faith in these parts but not the only one.

Of course, Moslems here are merely following the Hebrew faith that presented the idea that a faith has its own defined territory-its a kind of landowner and god an estate agent.

POEM;TSI CHI

Constant rain, no more bird song
Constant wind, no more flowers
Autumn bears down like a war lord on all the land.