Posts by Duncan

I got home a little after midnight, I guess. We’d had a tremendous night in the Village Hall, singing and laughing, and a chap I had recognised as the Head Teacher at the local junior school had dressed up as Santa and made a big performance of giving out Christmas presents to the folks from the old peoples’ home. Nothing sensible, really, or expensive - just jokey presents, silly things. I have to say, really, I had never laughed so much in all my life.

The Teacher, myself and two other fellows then went on to The Pennant Arms for a few drinks. I shouldn’t have been there, really. Seventeen years old is too young by law to be in a pub – but what the hell. I’d already done enough that night.

It turned out that these people, whom I had been taught all my life were Satanic and Evil, people who Great Uncle Jehovah had always declared to be “only fit for bird food” were just regular folks, just people, the same as me, and really good company, too. The Teacher, in particular, was a really nice guy - very funny to be around.

I let myself into the darkened house, and crept upstairs. My folks were sleeping.

Good.

I silently opened my bedroom door. I turned on the light.

Mum was sitting there, on the bed. She had been waiting.

“Duncan. We have been praying for you.”

“When did He leave?”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s always here, in a sense. You know, He knows everything? You can’t hide anything from Him.”

“Yeah. Well, makes it easier, doesn’t it? No point pretending.”

“Oh, Duncan!” She began to weep, quietly.

oooo---OOOO---oooo

Well, things seemed to move pretty quickly after that. The following day, in the afternoon, I was visited by two of Great-Uncle Jehovah’s men. I was familiar with them, I’d known them since birth, practically – John Position-Holder and Mike Handler. They seemed keen on getting me to sign bits of paper, formally stating that I would no longer put in any voluntary hours working for Great-Uncle Jehovah.

“Look – it’s all unpaid work, anyway. Why do I need to sign these things?”

“Oh, it’s just a formality – keeping our records straight. Great Uncle Jehovah is a stickler for Order and Discipline, you know.”

“Alright, alright. And if I sign these, what then? Will you leave me alone?”

“Of course, of course. We are REASONABLE people, Duncan.” Said John. “ We are reasonable and peaceable people, just like Great Uncle Jehovah, as you know. So…just sign here, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

I picked up the pen. “And Mum and Dad?” I knew they were just behind the door, listening.

“Well, of course, They will never be able to speak to you again. Ever.”

“WHAT?” I could hear Mum start to cry in the hallway.

“Oh, and… uhmm…. Great Uncle Jehovah will want to kill you, of course.” Said Mike. “Ahhh… goes without saying, really” Great sobbing and wailing, now, from behind the door.

“Listen. Why don’t you blokes just leave?”

“Makes no difference, Duncan. We’ve heard enough.”

oooo---OOOO---oooo

I knew well enough where He lived, although I’d never been there. A great big Stately Home in the English Countryside, set in thousands of acres. I’d seen pictures of it. It had always looked to me just like a big golf course, only with all these crazy smiling people standing around, offering heaped platters of fruit to each other. Well, them and all those tame lions.

It was quite famous, Great Uncle Jehovah’s place: it was called: Kingdom Hall. It was said that the entire Estate, with all its servants and drones and workers had a population of 144,000. I didn’t doubt it.

I had made my own way there, by bus, and then hitch-hiking; the final stretch on foot. I approached the main gates and looked through. There were all the crazies in National Dress, and there were all the lions. This was undoubtedly the right place.

The gates posed no problem at all. They opened as I approached, and in a second, I was in the grounds of Kingdom Hall.

I had decided there was no point in waiting for Him to come and get me. I might just as well go and face Him myself.

I followed the smoothly paved roadway up to the Main Residence. All along the way, the inmates, grinning inanely, offered me the most delicious-looking grapes, passion fruit, peaches and oranges. I saw the biggest bunch of bananas I had ever seen in my life – as big as a man. In the end, I succumbed and picked up the most rosy, juicy looking apple I had ever laid eyes on.

I bit down hard, and found myself a moment later retching in disgust. What the hell was it? Wax? Plaster? Paper Mache? Whatever it was, it was completely disgusting, phoney and totally uneatable. I spat the pieces on the ground.

“Jesus Christ!” I said “What was THAT? It was fuc-”

“Now then, Duncan! Let’s not go taking my name in vain, eh?”

I looked up to see Jesus approaching me, smiling all over his face.

“Look, Jesus. I have no quarrel with you. I always thought you were okay – I mean the stuff I heard about you, and everything. I really want to see The Big Boss.”

“Okay. Come with me.”

I looked at him a moment. “Alright. But what IS the deal with this fruit here?”

“Oh, Duncan. LOTS of things here are not really what they appear. Come on.”

oooo---OOOO---oooo

“Through that door.” said Jesus. We were outside a door marked “Holy of Holies”

“What, Just me? None of this taking-through-you nonsense?”

He smiled a smile, and gestured me through.

I walked through, and left Jesus behind. I was shit-scared, walking through that door. The door closed behind me.

And there he was, Great Uncle Jehovah, same posture as before in His armchair. He was, just like before, staring out of the window.

“Uhh, … Hello Great Uncle Jehovah.”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

“Uhhm. I dunno. Cleverer than my folks, a little bit, maybe, but - ”

“Without me, Duncan, your life will mean nothing. Nothing. You’ll have no direction, no purpose, no guiding principle at all. You’ll drift aimlessly and without purpose. You will end up in a wretched sinful state. It is I – what I stand for – that gives your life shape and meaning. You can’t live without me.”

“No, that’s not true.”

“Oh, but Yes! What people need – and you are people, Duncan, don’t fool yourself - what people need are Limits. Confinements. Boundaries. People are small, Duncan, people need rules. I provide them. I AM Rules, Duncan, I am Order. I make life bearable to small people.” Now, for the first time he looked at me. “And you think you can do without me.” He smiled an assured smile.

“Join the Organisation, Duncan. You’ll love it. You can have Power, too. A measure, anyway. I’ll take care of you.” Another smile. Two in a day, against none in a previous lifetime.

Now, I guess, I must have got mad.

“People might be small! I might be small. My Mum and Dad might be small. We ALL might be small! deleted that!. People CAN be big. They only need to believe in themselves. They only need to believe that they can be big enough, and to have the confidence to grow! I don’t want your rules! I have HAD it with your rules, your suffocating, stifling, idiotic, petty, life-denying, stupid, controlling rules.deleted your rules!”

“ And deleted YOU, you miserable piece of shit!”

As I approached Him, he seemed to shrink, and for some reason, I wasn’t even surprised at this.

I moved in on him. I didn’t even know what I was going to do. Shake Him? Hit Him?

It never got to that.

He shrank away as I approached. He shrank to nothing. He WAS nothing. There was no-one there. Just me. Great Uncle Jehovah was gone.

I was in a closed room. Alone.

I stood there and thought about this a moment. Quite what did this mean for Kingdom Hall, for the whole Estate? What had I done? Would any of it still be there when I went back out through that door? Would the fruit-bearing crazies be there? The lions? Jesus?

I had absolutely no idea.

I smiled, and shrugged, pushed the door and went out.

20

A Visit from great Uncle Jehovah

by Duncan in

jw
friends

i remember walking home that night.

by the time i left school, it was already getting dark, and i decided to walk through the town centre and wander round the shops.

i took in all the christmas decorations and lights and colours.

Duncan

Thanks for the replies, all.

James, many thanks for your comments,

you copped-out at the end... ... Uncle still kills you, if you do not accept him.

absolutely, I agree, and it was not my intention to write an advert for joining a church. The ending was supposed to be "Duncan re-joins the local community" rather than "Duncan rejoins a church". Maybe if I'd've thought about it a bit more I might have made the organisers of the carol concert a more decidedly non-religious group, like the Boy Scouts or the local primary school, or something. I already deliberately chose "Village Hall" rather than "Church Hall"

E-man, I really don't know if Watford have got any aspirations left, after watching them this season. But don't worry, I'm sure they'll be playing fixtures against Pompey pretty soon. :-)

Hillary, Great to hear from you again.

...attached guilt like a barnacle to spirituality...

isn't that it, exactly?

regards

Duncan.

20

A Visit from great Uncle Jehovah

by Duncan in

jw
friends

i remember walking home that night.

by the time i left school, it was already getting dark, and i decided to walk through the town centre and wander round the shops.

i took in all the christmas decorations and lights and colours.

Duncan

exPat,

you're right. It was only taking the posting one line at a time.

Dunno why.

Duncan

20

A Visit from great Uncle Jehovah

by Duncan in

jw
friends

i remember walking home that night.

by the time i left school, it was already getting dark, and i decided to walk through the town centre and wander round the shops.

i took in all the christmas decorations and lights and colours.

Duncan

20

A Visit from great Uncle Jehovah

by Duncan in

jw
friends

i remember walking home that night.

by the time i left school, it was already getting dark, and i decided to walk through the town centre and wander round the shops.

i took in all the christmas decorations and lights and colours.

Duncan

I remember walking home that night. By the time I left school, it was already getting dark, and I decided to walk through the town centre and wander round the shops. I took in all the Christmas decorations and lights and colours. I remember thinking: “This is so lovely. If only…”

But, of course, I didn’t buy anything, and eventually I turned towards home. It wasn’t a long walk, really, and I was soon walking up our pathway, and I was fishing for my door key in my pocket.

Mum opened the door before I got there. She must have seen me coming. One look at her told me something was wrong.

“Duncan, we have a Visitor.” She said evenly.

I knew what this meant – “oh, fuu-” I began, before I recovered: “Why, that’s MARVELLOUS!” I projected into the house.

“How long’s He been here?” I mouthed. “This afternoon – He just showed up” she whispered back. And then, brighter, louder, also projecting: “He’s just in the lounge. Go in and say Hello. He’d love to see you!”

Just what I wanted – a Visit from Great Uncle Jehovah.

Miserable, stern, always-angry, impossible-to-please, grouchy, cold, demanding Great Uncle Jehovah. I had always hated his visits even when I was a small child, even despite my parents telling me how “kind” and “loving” he was. I could see through all that, even then.

“Why does he have to come here?” I would ask, in my childish innocence. “He doesn’t even like us. He’s always telling us off!”

My parents were always quick to defend Him - “oh, Now, Now! What NONSENSE! Great Uncle Jehovah LOVES us. Why, he’s so MERCIFUL and SO full of loving-kindness!… and besides, we owe EVERYTHING to Him. This house, everything we have, it all came from Him. We should be APPRECIATIVE of everything He’s done for us!”

I could never get to the bottom of this - why it was that my parents said that everything we owned, everything we had, was given to us by Great Uncle Jehovah, and we should always be crawlingly humble and grateful before Him. But, they said it, and I accepted it. It didn’t make it any easier dealing with Him.

I walked in with a sinking heart. Mum said, through clenched teeth: “DON’T mention Christmas – you know what He’s like.” I nodded.

Stiff-backed and stern as ever, Great Uncle Jehovah had taken up residence in the armchair in the corner. Next to Him stood his constant companion, his “Favoured Son”, Jesus. Never went anywhere without him. Actually, Jesus wasn’t too bad when you got him on his own, he was a half-decent kind of guy. But he lived entirely in Great Uncle Jehovah’s orbit.

I approached. He had me speared with his piercing eyes.

“Uhh, hello, Great Uncle Jehovah. WONDERFUL to see you again! How are You?”

He stared at me in silence for a moment. Then regally turned His head and looked out the window.

Of course! How could I have forgotten?

I turned to Jesus and said:

“Uhh, hello, Great Uncle Jehovah. WONDERFUL to see you again! How are You?”

Jesus turned to Great Uncle Jehovah and said: “he says hello, wonderful to see You, how are You?”

Great Uncle Jehovah said “Tell him I am fine, but I am mightily disappointed in him. An average seven hours-a-month shows no appreciation for everything I do for him!”

In accord with the time-honoured pantomime, Jesus relayed His message to me.

And that’s how it started, and that’s how it went on. It was always the same.

Targets that I had not met. Standards that I wasn’t living up to. Requirements that I had failed to observe. A falling-short. A failure to reach out. A missing of the mark.

Didn’t I know that it was an incredible privilege even to be acquainted with Great Uncle Jehovah? Had I no sense of gratitude for all His blessings showered down upon me?

As ever, I came away from His presence feeling drained, flat and guilty.

My parents were waiting for me in the kitchen. “Isn’t it WONDERFUL that He makes the time to be with us – to visit us, to share His precious time with us? Think about it – with us - we who are so unworthy, so undeserving?”

It was time to tell them. Something I had been dreading for months, but it was time.

“Listen, Mum, Dad… I’m, well, I’m getting really fed up with this. With Him.”

They paled. “Duncan, No! don’t say…”

“No, listen. This is no life. No life at all. We constantly have to watch how we walk, and watch how we talk. Doesn’t it get you down? Is this what life is supposed to be about – never offending Great Uncle Jehovah?

We can’t say the word ‘Birthday’ (they flinched) because He doesn’t like it, we can’t say ‘bless you’ (flinch) when someone sneezes, or say ‘good luck!’ or ‘bad luck!’ (flinch, flinch) to anyone when the occasion arises. Our whole lives are a mass of stupid petty rules and regulations laid down by that old cantankerous sod in there, and I’ve just about had enough!”

“Duncan, HE’LL KILL YOU!” my Mum wailed. “I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIE!”

We stood a long moment looking at each other.

“Well, I guess we’ll see.” I said, in the kindest tone I could muster. I didn’t want to upset or scare my parents. But this was a fork in the road, this was a break. A crossroads.

So, I left the house, and wandered the streets for a while, just thinking.

At the end of our road was the Village Hall, and tonight the local church had invited the residents from the old folks home to a tea-party and carol concert. I stood listening for a while to the warm and joyful sounds spilling out into the night air.

I smiled, and shrugged, pushed the door and went in.

25

(fluff) British expressions

by DanTheMan in

jw
friends

a question to my fellow united staters on the board, .

do you find yourself using british expressions in your daily life because of being on this db so much?

two that i've picked up - i occasionally will call a friend "mate" (they look at me kind of funny) .

Duncan

when something is considered outstanding

as in "Football, Bloody hell!"

from a certain Mr A. Ferguson after THAT game in 1999.

14

Dramas

by In_between_days in

jw
friends

one of the funniest things i will ever remember as a jw are the "big dramas" at the assemblys.

it was amazing how everyone would sit through the torture of the infinate talks and "skits" with an incredibly bored look on their faces, yet when the drama got closer, the apathetic faces piped up, became animated, excited.

it was, as far as i could see the "best of the worst" piece of the programme, and by god, even though i spent almost the entire time at the assemblies outside feeding ducks, i was always in one of the front rows for the drama.

Duncan

Hi In-Between

One thing I particularly remember with regard to the Dramas was that me and my pioneer buddies for weeks afterward would all - for a laugh - speak to each other in outrageous deep American accents in a language I can only describe as "Drama-ese"

For example, when asking your Pioneer-partner if he thought it was time to go to coffee (we always went to the Watermill cafe, run by a chap called Eamonn) it would be:

"Let us proceed from this place, and indeed seek refreshment for our souls!"

"May our peoples rise up and proceed to the Land of Eamonn, and let us reside among the sons of the Eamonnnites!"

"It is even so!"

... and so on. We used to think this was a scream, it became a private kind of language.

You have to understand how ridiculous those Amercan accents came over to us boys from Norf London.

Duncan

4

I Have A Bad Case Of BUILDER'S BUM.

by Englishman in

jw
friends

.

..or so i have just been informed by my middle son's girlfriend, vicky:.

englishman.

Duncan

Hey Mike!

Builders Bum! Brilliant! LOL!

All power to your elbow, mate.

Duncan

(doesn't know his arse from his elbow Class)