I’ve recently made arrangements to come speak at the University of Ireland in Galway in early February. Hooray! I’ve been looking forward to visiting Ireland for some time, so it’s going to be great.
And then I discover that not all the Irish are sane. There are crowds listening to ‘psychic’ prophets and standing in churchyards to stare at the sun until their eyeballs are all wobbly and semi-toasted, and then declaring that the fact that they can’t see straight is a miracle! From God! Hallelujah to a creator who would make a delicate energy sensor friable!
I was planning on giving a couple of serious talks, but now I’m cleverly thinking…if I just hand out ball-peen hammers to the audiences and tell them to bang themselves on the head until they see stars and angels and Jesus himself looking like Bono and singing lullabies, I’ll have a little more time to sneak out and get all touristy.
Except that the people who’d come to listen to me would probably be more critical than the ones who’d listen to a self-proclaimed ‘clairvoyant’ like Joe Coleman. Darn. Preaching reason and autonomy and rebellion from the dictates of mystical authority does have its downsides.