The God squad are back. The Saturday before last there was a free barbeque on at Venner Road Hall. I thought, or rather hoped, it may have been some sort of community thing, but when I turned up my worst fears were confirmed: it was Ichthus. Iíd seen them earlier in the week outside the Post Office handing out free soft drinks in the sweltering heat. I decided not to stay for the barbeque, and as I left a young guy with a stupid smirk on his face asked me to come in and ďhave some foodĒ. I said, Ichthus, is it? Yes he said. Do you know us? I know Ichthus Christian Fellowship. I know Christians, I said. I was hungry, in fact I hadnít eaten all day on account of it, but I went home and cooked something for myself.
Free food indeed. There is such a thing as a free lunch - at least until the Tories introduce a sunshine tax - but although religions offer pie in sky, they donít give anything for free. Faust sold his soul to the Devil for knowledge; Paganini is said to have sold his for the violin. Every man has his price, including me, but I ainít gonna sell my soul for a hamburger and a glass of home-made punch.
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