I’ve goat shakable principles

A recent encounter involving myself, my friend, and three stupefyingly good-looking women has led me to question everything I thought I knew about the role of faith in today’s world, and, unfortunately, revealed to me the shallowness of my own convictions… Intrigued, I bet, aren’t ye?

As the man says, I’ll start at the end and finish where it all began.

Religion is getting it tough these days, or, more precisely, the person who finds himself preaching to the over-educated, smartphone-wielding congregations of today has it far harder than his counterparts of the past.

Until fairly recently, anyone in possession of a bit of gumption and a gown could have earned a handy living preaching the word of whatever Lord tickled their fancy. Now, here, I know history holds plenty of examples of religious people who led transcendent lives of charity and self-sacrifice.

Jesus and the Buddah were great men altogether, and I hear Muhammad would have given you a tenner if he only had a fiver to spare.

No disputing any of that. In fact, this article isn’t even concerned with the question of whether or not these fellas were sent to earth by the heavenly father.

The point I am making is that religion has become a harder sell.

You see, long before I was a young hairless cub, far less was required of the man behind the lectern in order for him to prosper.

In a world governed by survival, unpoliced by science and rationalism, faith and superstition ruled the roost.

And is it any wonder?

The majority of Ireland’s population were sockless, spud-obsessed peasants, their fate eventually to be decided beneath the cruel boot of poverty. Such people were bound to be susceptible to those who swore that hunger was their ticket to heaven; that their suffering was their salvation.

But, thankfully, things changed. Society evolved. And we got cute.

For questioning is the mind of the full-bellied man – or so I thought.

Then, about a month ago, all my certainties were put to the test.

I found myself stood in the shadowy smoking area of a pub with my friend. Three women entered, each so attractive they would have caught your eye in the pitch black.

Without announcement or arrangement, myself and my friend changed the course of the conversation for the benefit of our company, smoothly moving from the specific to the universal, thus inviting third party participation.

The girls obliged.

Needless to say, we were loving it.

Then they seized the reins.

“Oh my God!” exclaimed one girl, in a manner that would have been annoying if it had came from anyone else’s mouth.

“You have to be an Aries!”

Her big eyes were set upon me.

‘Oh dear’, I thought to myself. ‘One, she is into astrology, and, two, she’s nailed it’.

“I am indeed,” I said agreeably, seeing no advantage in acknowledging the blind luck we had all just witnessed.

She clapped her hands like a very attractive seal, and with each seal-clap her confidence grew.

“Yes. You’re bold and ambitious. You lead with your head. You’re passionate, motivated and like to get things done the quick and dirty way,” she said with a melting gaze.

Jesus Christ.

I was being spiritually misdiagnosed and I was loving it.

Suppressing a beaming grin, I said, “All of the above.”

However, with blind indifference to the body’s developing vision for the night, a loud spokesperson of my principles piped up from within and urged me to set these girls straight.

I had never heard such a flattering load of dung in all my life!

‘Speak your truth,’ commanded the inner voice.

‘Zip it,’ I warned him, ‘I’m on to a good thing here.’

Before I knew it, I had totally surrendered. I had been rendered defenseless.

“Yes, Sarah,” I said in a trance, “I am absolutely just like a goat.”

I had passed the point of no return; they had brought me to the brink and I had agreed to jump.

The last thing I remember, I was looking down upon myself as though in an outer-body experience.

Filled with disgust and awe in equal measure, I floated above my empty body and watched as it was helplessly taken over by the spirit of the zodiac, summoned and sent forth by three beautiful strangers in a smoking area.