Jesus Effing Christ. They’re at it again. Give them an inch, and they’ll take your whole effing arm off at the socket.
Don’t you see it? Don’t you see what’s going on.
The brazenness of it all is breath taking.
They say that if you want to hide something, you put it where everyone can see it.
I’m standing there at midnight mass, playing along with the whole charade, when it suddenly hits me. “Oh my God, they’re going to try it again!”
And there it was. The Catholic church got our Boxing Day game cancelled. But don’t you see? That’s not even the point. That’s a card trick to keep us off balance before the Grande Finale when they do the saw-the-girl-in-half trick. But the thing is, they really are going to saw the girl in half. There will be no legerdemain.
Open your eyes up, Gooners. The Vatican is making its final push. They are coming to put us “back in our place.” More than that, they are trying to wipe us off the map.
I wake up on Boxing Day to discover they’ve gone through with it. No Arsenal vs West Ham. I can’t effing believe it! Those bare faced Holy Roman bastards have only gone and done it, haven’t they?!!! Was Tottenham’s game still on? Chelsea’s? United’s? City’s? QPR’s?
And we’re supposed to believe that supporters from 2 London clubs can’t make it to see a London game? Come on, Pope Benedict. Pull the other one. And shake some of that incense, while you’re at it.
We have seen this revisionism, this usurping before. It’s page 1 of the Vatican playbook: remember when they subsumed all our pagan festivals around the winter solstice by moving that Jesus dude’s birthday from July 17th to December 25th?
To be fair, it is true that teachings on the Messiah’s birth and parentage have a mystical element, such that many doubt their veracity. But all the while the faithful believe in a doctrine of a Virgin Birth who’s progenitor is God the Father. Others believe in a humbler origin while still accepting his divinity.
He lived a life of self-sacrifice filled with miraculous works only to be struck down just as he revealed his powers and true nature. He was crucified only to be raised again from the dead.
And so it comes to pass at this time of year that Gooners celebrate the birth of our one true Lord and Saviour, on its correct date, January 1st.
Merry Jackmas to one and all, Gooners.
And that is what Rome fears. The unstoppable rise of this new faith.
Why we have been blinded from seeing who is the Anti-Jack, warned of in the New Testament, when it’s clear as day now. The sign of the beast, the Anti-Christ, was 666. But this flips everything around. Jesus is the Anti-Jack. Flipping 666 gives you 999. 999???!!! Or 9.99. And rounded to the nearest whole number becomes 10. And when did Jack receive his new number? Just this season. The Vatican were compelled to act.
So Jesus, jog on mate and get back to celebrating your actual birthday in the closed season. You don’t like being ignored during the Holy High Season of the Premier League fighting for attention among our summer transfer rumours. Jog on, mate. You’re most likely a Spud in any case, given your heritage.
However, I do draw the line at Gooners chanting during matches “Are you a virgin?” at Jack’s mother, The Blessed Virgin Kerry. Lads, show some respect for the mother of our Lord and Saviour.
You hearing that squeaking noise, that I’m hearing? Like the sound of a small tricycle being ridden by a demonic looking little boy? Archie Wilshere, the spawn of Satan? Lucifer squired Jack’s girlfiriend behind his back? Quite possibly. In fact, almost certainly.
Good God, this gets bigger and bigger. Most of my conspiracy theories, well all of them really, are complete and utter horse shit. But this one looks like it just hit the Jackpot.
So, Jack, wherever you are, climb down off that bockety chair and have the missus swap the light bulb on the landing. And when you hear that tricycle wheel squeaking, run for that front door. Archie’s a bad ‘un, Jack. Run for your life, mate.