Saintliness

Since my unjust and illegal incineration in Holloway, I've managed to develop my faith and I have become an even more deep and spiritual person than I was before. As I read the scriptures, especially those of Paul and John I say to myself, "I could teach you a thing or two about being a martyr".

Did they ever suffer a criminal and pathetic and evil and sick campaign against them by the media like I have? No. Was Jesus crucified in The Sun like I was? No. Did St Stephen ever have reporters from the Oxford Mail camping outside his house? No. Was Jesus arrested after a pathetic and sad "wanted campaign" by Bethlehem bloggers? I don't think so.

I can understand, in my more forgiving and serene moments, the media interest in me and my beautiful research, truthful research, research that will save lost souls. I can understand that they are jelous of my writing, my research skills and my degree in psychopathy. I can even understand why they, in their spiteful and malicious way have decided to align their sordid selves with the Prince of Darkness and build this campaign to destroy me, to bring me down and do away with my precious research. These evil little creeps, why are they so obsessed with me?

Jesus told me why. My research is a beacon of truth to the lost. HE came to me in a dream and held me close, very close. To be frank, a little uncomfortably close, if you catch my drift, and explained to me that my research was a light to the world, good news that would astound people, indeed, my research was a new Gospel.

I thought as much, I told him.

I celebrated my newly confirmed saintliness by going out at 10 in the morning and drinking cider all day, then I met some gangsters and had sex with them. It's what Jesus would have wanted me to do.