boxing day ghost of christmas past

Sitting in an armchair in the parlour at the old chateau de Healy.

The ghost of Richard Dawkins materialises beside the chair and begins quoting himself.

"It's fascinating to see how the theological mind works in particular, the lack of interest in - indeed the contempt for - factual evidence."

I nod soberly.

"I think I understand you," I tell him. "You mean like when atheistic darwinists claim the universe is limitlessly old in order to forge a time frame they find credible for the fictional evolutionary processes they postulate, or when they insist there may be a multiverse of universes winking in and out of existence all the time in order to make the impossibility of their now disproven previously postulated limitless time frame for their other nonsense theories irrelevant, or when they claim most ridiculously of all that life began spontaneously by chance."

Then I give him a good punch in the bawls.

It is Boxing Day after all.