Captain’s Log 18/06/16 14:07
I’m nearly at Ana’s door. In my bag I’ve got an A4 sized picture of Richard Dawkins and The Archbishop of Canterbury. I knock. An old lady answers, ‘One minute,’ she says. Ana comes to the door. I ask if she’s got a minute to hear me read her poem but she’s busy cooking, so I offer the printed copy to her; I feel a bit torn, a bit of me wants to ask if there’s a good time to come back but this is my third try.
I ask if she knows who Richard Dawkins is. She says no. ‘What about The Archbishop of Canterbury?’ She also says no. Good job I brought the pictures. I mean, she is from Portugal; they probably have their own versions of them there. Imagine the Portuguese Richard Dawkins? I take them out and show them to her, explaining how one is an atheist and the other is the head of The Church of England, how they both appear in the poem. I tell her the idea came from what she was saying to me, how she believes there might be something higher but none of us can really know what it is.
We take a selfie before I go, while I clearly try to suck on a lemon. We say goodbye and I leave Ana to cook.–
Dear Sister, gather round and I will tell you the Good News,
I’ve had a vision so profound I want to share with you,
And when you hear this revelation you won’t doubt it’s true
Cos the message that I’ve come to preach is:
I Do Not Have A Clue.
What came before the Big Bang? I really divvn’t knaa.
I’ve got no evidence to show it’s Vishnu, God or Buddha
I’ve also got no way to prove that they’re imaginary.
I’ve got absolutely no facts at all and, quite frankly,
I’m getting really sick of people saying that they do
So I’m starting a religion based on:
I Don’t Have A Clue.
The holy symbol is a question mark on a background that is brown
And there won’t be any scripture cos there’s nothing to write down
And I won’t be your leader cos I know as much as you
And the name of this religion is:
I Don’t Have A Clue
I was on a debate on the telly, speaking these beliefs,
When The Archbishop of Canterbury started being a bit too friendly.
He said the reason, my dear boy, you are so full of questions
Is that you know, deep in your soul, The Lord died for your sins,
You’ll find the answers you seek if you read the bible through.
But I told him that I’d tried that and I still don’t have a clue.
Then Richard Dawkins butted in and said, through grinding teeth,
I won’t find any proof because there is no god to see
And then he called me spineless for sitting on the fence,
Said if I just took the time to read the evidence
I’d see there was no higher force, science would prove it too.
But I told him that it hadn’t yet so I didn’t have a clue.
The priest called Dawkins arrogant, the argument got heated,
Both of them went red and stood up from where they were seated,
Surrounded by the BBC, they had a full on fist fight-
I couldn’t get a word in which I thought was impolite.
They screamed they knew the answers, that the other person lied-
I realised this would go on until both of them died.
I saw the forests worth of paper chopped to make their books,
Tons of oxygen wasted by each side preaching truth.
And after centuries of killing, what had it come to?
Two old men still arguing who didn’t have a clue.
I’m a massive fan of logic but know when to choose a battle,
If I don’t have the answers then I just tend not to babble.
I can enjoy a film if I don’t know the director, or
If it was shot by accident on someone’s handheld camera.
I went camping a few years back, in a Scottish forest,
As the sun set behind a mountain it looked pre-historic;
The sky’s bold fiery pink colours forced me to stop and stare.
But whether that was made or not, I really just don’t care.
So have your theories, honestly, I won’t stand in your way
But don’t try and preach them to me, you know what I’m gonna say.
And if I die and it turns out I get to the gates all pearly,
How do you think that St Peter is going to answer me?
When I say there was so many different faiths to choose from
I didn’t really know for sure if his was right or wrong,
So I just didn’t think about it and spent my time livin’
And lent a hand to anyone whatever their religion.
Do you think he’d be so cruel to open up the floor?
Drop me through infinity to burn forevermore?
Or do you think he’d scratch his head and end the interview
Saying: You better just go in, Rowan, cos I don’t have a clue.