Patriot Realm

In these days of increasing Thought Police intervention in our lives, I had a rather interesting revelation: It dawned on me that so many of us already talk in code. 

No, I am not talking about the codes adopted during the war with the famous ( or infamous ) Enigma code that caused Alan Turing and his team of codebreakers so much consternation in WW II; no, I am talking about the code that families speak. 

Let me give you some examples. 

When I was a little girl, my parents bought some sleeping bags for my two older brothers. They were rather el cheapo, kapok filled grey sleeping bags and were so thin that my older brother complained " Gee! They are so thin, you could spit through them " 

Henceforth, in our family, a sleeping bag was known as a spit through.  If someone ever kidnapped a family member and we had to establish if that person was an alien, the first question we would ask would be " What is a spit through? " 

It was back in the early days of 2019 that Australia was shocked to learn that one its greatest sports men, Israel Folau, was fired for quoting the Bible. Alan Jones, then host of his own show on Sydney radio said 

“The Australia that our Anzacs fought for seems to be disappearing before our very eyes,” Jones said. “It prompts you to wonder what kind of society we’re living in.

“Nothing wrong with Israel, [Folau ] it’s the society and those who prosecute [and persecute ] him who are sick.

“But the cancer won’t kill us, it’s the cancer that will be removed, not Israel. The Australian people won’t accept this.

“This is not the Australia our veterans fought for and we’re going to have to take our country back by argument and by the democratic and peaceful process — not by hate and revenge or vilification and intimidation.”

Well, how wrong Jones was. For it appears that Australia did accept it and our country is a much changed place. 

Magic happens everywhere and goodness, wonder and delight can be found alive and well throughout the world. 

All we need do is look to our children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, for the joy in the simplicity of delight to be found in such timeless heroes.

Fairies are part of my Manx heritage so it is not be be treated lightly that you have my assurance that the Tooth Fairies are still flying around the world doing a great job. 

They tell me that the Easter Bunny is also ready for a bumper Easter Egg day. But they asked me to remind the children to brush their teeth and not get carried away with too many goodies from the Bunny basket.

Enjoy!

As Easter has come upon us one more year, I have been pondering what to write. What to feature for a day ( Good Friday ) that was hardly good and rather more than a simple end to a bad week. 

In this time of confusion, unrest and violence - where good seems to being constantly overshadowed by evil - I wondered how the story would sound if it was seen through the allegory of a modern musical band. I mean no disrespect and I hope that my story is read with that in mind. 

It was hardly a good Friday. In fact, it was a rather unpleasant day if we are to be honest. 

Sometimes, bad weeks just get worse, don't they?  As far as Jesus was concerned, he had been let down by one of his best mates and, when interviewed by police, another close friend said " I don't know nuffink. " 

The Band, known as Jesus and the Disciples, were a big hit 2000 years ago. They played gigs at local venues, spreading messages of love, hope, and unity through their music. Jesus, the charismatic lead singer, had a voice that could soothe even the most troubled souls, and his lyrics touched the hearts of all who listened.

It was a terrible end to what had been a bad week for the band. 

So how did the band get to this place? 

Less than three hours ago, I was sitting in the Israeli Embassy in Washington, DC, watching 47 minutes of footage from the Hamas massacre on October 7, together with a small group of specially invited evangelical leaders. The images, as expected, were jarring, disturbing, horrific.

Little children in their pajamas, butchered in their own beds, covered in blood. The corpses of young women, shot in their crotches. Victims with their hands tied behind their backs, now charred with fire.

Others burned beyond recognition.

Bloody image after bloody image for 47 minutes.

CCTV footage of a woman cowering on the floor, trying to hide from Hamas bullets. Then bodycam images from those same terrorists as they carry out her lifeless body.

Cell phone video footage of young, female Israeli soldiers, huddling together on the floor as they try to find refuge from the murderers who caught them unaware early in the morning. Are they safe here? Should they try to run somewhere else and hide? The next footage shows their bullet ridden corpses as their murderers celebrate.