My girlfriend and I took the train through to Edinburgh to soak in the atmosphere and catch a few free comedy shows at the Fringe Festival.
Almost immediately I spotted them; JW.Org Witnesses.
How did I know it was them?
Well, the middle-aged, tall man wearing the suit, shirt and tie was a big clue. That and the fact that he was holding the hand of a similarly tall, middle-aged woman, dressed in the JW uniform of long skirt, blouse and light summer jacket. Oh, and the "publisher bag" she had slung over her shoulder, with the clear plastic pocket on front displaying a piece of JW.Org printed propaganda.
And that was as soon as we'd emerged from the bowels of Waverley Station.
Then, after climbing up the hill to the Royal Mile, we saw more of them. You see, the Royal Mile at High Street is closed to traffic during the weekends of the Festival to allow street performers to do their thing, and the whole street is packed full of tourists, parents with young kids and hundreds of people handing out flyers to drum up an audience for the dozens and dozens of shows taking place throughout the city.
And there, right on the corner of St Gile's Street, at a very busy crossing, being buffeted by wave after wave of tourist and pedestrian, was two more JW.Org witnesses, standing with their literature cart (a potential trip hazard), each clutching the new August 1st "Where Can You Find the Answers... (clue; it's on our website)" tract.
However, unlike the people trying to generate interest in their comedy, dance or music show, the JWs simply just stood there. They didn't try to thrust the live saving message into anyone's hands. They didn't engage with anyone passing. They just stood there. In the fucking way. At a busy street crossing...
We now walked down Bank Street, onto North Bank Street, at right there at the steps leading down to the Scottish National Gallery was another two. Again, helping to contribute to a bottle neck of pedestrians. This time I knew them. Martin Benzie, formerly from Bellshill, now (I'm guessing) a circuit overseer and still a full-time nut sack (look up Hoboken's experience with Benzie at his appeal hearing).
Benzie's wife, a sickly looking woman, always has been, was standing holding up a copy of an Awake! magazine, adapting the new pioneer stance; stand still, feet planted, holding a magazine in front of her chest. As we waited for the lights to change, along with dozens of other tourists and visitors to Edinburgh, I watched them closely. Martin was being engaged in conversation with a small elderly bearded man who looked to me like a born-again Christian. Martin adopted the slightly patronising tilted-head stance of a person who believes he is superior in every spiritual way possible, nodding while the man spoke to him, while evidently wishing to end the conversation.
All the while his wife stood rooted to the spot while absolutely no one took a single piece of literature from her.
Here's my issue, apart from feeling nauseated at seeing a blast from my JW past.
The people handing out leaflets and flyers for their shows had much more passion and enthusiasm for the role than the JW.Org Witnesses had in spreading their life-saving message of urgency. They were prepared to stop strangers in the street, talk to them with a smile and do their best to "sell" their show. The JW.Org Witnesses, on the other hand, stood lifelessly, unsmiling like statues, holding anonymous pieces of paper, seemingly in the hope that a passerby would initiate contact with them, taking the tract from their hand.
Compared to the efforts of the entertainment hawkers, how on earth did they expect to get their message noticed by the thousands of people converging on the capital city whose lives they're apparently responsible for trying to save?
This religion is changing before our eyes...and yet it's closer than ever to the end.