The last thing I watched last night before going to bed was this half hour NBC video on the Artemis program. Of course it’s crammed full of jingoism about how America is a space-faring nation, about how they have to beat China back to the moon, and about how the exploration of space should be up to them rather than anyone else. Their cities are literally burning, there healthcare system is non-existent and they’re sliding further and further towards fascism every day, yet Americans have the hubris, the arrogance to think they should be the ones to return to the moon. Surely I can’t be the only one to find that sickening.

When I was out on my trundle yesterday I had a bizarre idea which I now can’t get out of my head. An idea for a meeting of two fictional characters which I think would be so hilarious, so awesome that I simply have to make it happen. How it could possibly happen is another question, especially given one character was live action and the other is animated; but I’m now nonetheless set on seeing it come about. Surely it would be the most amazing thing ever if the French Taunter from Monty Python ant the Holy Grail could somehow meet Cornholio. I have no idea what they would do together or how they could possibly be shown to meet, but even so I suspect it would make me roll on the floor with laughter. The unnamed French Taunter, of course, was played by John Cleese in the 1975 film Monty Python and the Holy Grail, mocking King Arthur and his Knights from the battlements of a castle. Cornholio or The Great Cornholio is Beavis’s alter ego who he transforms into whenever he drinks too much coffee or any other stimulant. Both are, separately, probably the funniest things I have ever seen. The crazy idea of seeing them somehow meet may be far fetched, and I have no idea how I would get either of the actors to reprise their roles, but this is just too awesome for me to let go. The thought of those characters having some sort of dialogue is too magnificent. If it is indeed true that everything is possible, then this simply has to happen.

I just have something rather trivial to record here today. I’ve been going to the branch of Nationwide on Eltham High Street since moving here six years ago. I go there once or twice a week, whenever I need more cash. I can’t physically use an ATM so I always go up to the cashier. As such the staff in that branch have come to know me quite well. Of course, until now I have always used my speech app to tell them what I need. Things like numbers can be especially difficult for me to articulate. Rather cooly, however, this morning was the first time I didn’t need to use my communication aid there: I was able to roll up to the desk and tell the dude what I wanted. As usual he then put it in my wallet. Nothing special really, but I think that was quite a nice threshold to have passed, and a sign that this area is becoming more and more my home.

America is really beginning to scare me. Or rather, what I see from America is beginning to scare me. Every day the situation there seems to get worse, with more depictions of violence, anger and intolerance. The thing is, my prime source of information is my YouTube feed. I obviously don’t live in the United States, so almost everything I know about the situation there comes from YouTube. Every morning among quite a few other things I watch clips of guys like Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Kimmel doing their nightly routines, panting an increasingly dystopian picture of their county. The thing is, their acts are still so interspersed with jokes and throw-away remarks that you could almost assume things were perfectly normal. The mismatch between tone and content is quite jarring, but might that mean that I’m only seeing one side of the story? Could the violence and turmoil be being exaggerated for dramatic effect? As unlikely as that may be, to be honest I’m starting to hope with increasing desperation that it is.

Out on my trundle yesterday, I was as usual thinking about the state of the world, and reflecting that, during the Second World War, this part of South-East London was very much on the front line of the defence of the capital. Sutcliffe Park in Kidbrooke, about ten minutes from my flat, was one of the areas where they anchored barrage balloons. Yet now it seems the very forces those guys were fighting against have returned. I used that as the springboard to put together this film. It isn’t perfect, and probably could have done with a bit more editing, but I think what I’m getting at is clear enough.

I know I shouldn’t just direct everyone to videos I’ve just watched on Youtube, but I certainly think this Channel Four interview between Krishnan Guru-Murthy and Mehdi Hasan is certainly worth watching. It’s rather a long, in-depth conversation, covering topics ranging from Brexit to Gaza, but I think it is particularly significant in that Hasan openly uses the word ‘fascism’ in relation to Donald Trump and what is currently unfolding in America. It is probably the first time I have heard that word being used so openly and on such a mainstream platform: As Hasan himself explains, he is openly liberal and left-of-centre, but tries to be as critical, balanced and objective as possible. Yet there is no getting away from the fact that what Trump is doing, in weaponising the US justice system and silencing his critics, equates to a form of fascism. We might not be seeing jack-boots on the streets there just yet – although ICE is drawing closer and closer to becoming an American gestapo – but the form of autocracy Trump is steering the country towards is no less chilling. Please watch the video for the details, but I have to say, watching it and videos like it is making me increasingly frightened about where the world is heading politically.

If you would like a bit more background on the complete and utter car crash that America is becoming, as well as to chill out for an hour or so listening to a dude talk, I think this is well worth a watch. I’d previously dismissed JD Vance as just one of Trump’s lackeys and another right-wing scumbag, but the reality is far more complex and nuanced, if no less frightening. Vance is actually quite an intelligent person whose ideas were once well rooted in reality, but like Macbeth and so many others, greed and ambition got the better of him.

On my shelf I have three graduation photos. Two are mine, of course, from my Masters graduation eleven years ago, and I’m still immensely proud of them. The third, however, is of a young man I do not know. I think it’s of Lyn’s nephew. When I moved to Eltham six years ago, much of her stuff came with me, including many of her pictures. Lyn’s brother Paul had given her the small graduation photo, and it came with me. The thing is, I haven’t heard anything from L’s family since. No doubt the photo will be as special to someone as my graduation photos are to me; yet I have no idea who, what their name is or how to contact them. Naturally I’ve tried looking on Facebook without much luck. If anyone has any leads on this, please get in touch.

In a way you could say I have nothing to report here today. My parents came to visit for lunch, just as they visit every few weeks and just as they also visit my brothers, Mark and Luke. It was nothing special: we had a very nice lunch together, and we sorted some things out regarding my powerchairs. You know – normal, family stuff. Yet, whenever they pop by like this, I always feel a sense of intense pride and satisfaction. As I wrote here about a year ago, there was a time when I thought such visits would be absurd: when the idea that I would one day be living in my own flat, and that Mum and Dad would visit for brunch, would have seemed totally out of the question. But perhaps even more than that, I feel pride in it’s very normality. After all, whose parents don’t visit them? What’s so special about a man and a woman going to visit their son? It’s perfectly normal, and in that sense I’m just like Mark, Luke and just about anyone else. I’m just a normal bloke whose parents came to visit. Paradoxically perhaps, I feel great pride in that normality.

Putting my James Bond hat on for a moment, could someone please tell me what the zark this is. It purports to be a trailer for something called Bait, an Amazon produced series about an actor cast as James Bond. I just came across a reference to it, and of course the online Bond fandom is abuzz with speculation. It’s only a short trailer, so I don’t know what to make of it or where Amazon intend to go with it. It’s quite odd: it just shows a fairly young man surprising his family with the news that he has been cast as James Bond, who then become extremely excited. But now they’ve acquired the rights to it, I can’t help worrying that Amazon intend to take Bond in all sorts of weird new directions to squeeze every penny they can out of it. The appearance of this trailer only increases that concern.

Apparently too ill to answer questions about his mate Trump on national TV, but seemingly fine to do his ‘statesman’ act for halfwits to allow them to think they are some kind of ‘elite’.

We all know what a dangerous state the world is in. I’m not going to go off on one of my spasticated rants about how Britain should now unilaterally void the Declaration of Independence and render all Americans British colonists, much as I might like to. In all seriousness though, I find myself baffled over Americans can put up with this. Many of them are intelligent people; they must realise what is going on, and the catastrophic damage which the deranged charlatan they’re currently forced to call their president is currently doing to their country. They must surely be as horrified as the rest of the world is.

Surely there is something they can do: surely what remains of the American intelligencia can somehow step in to remove the fool from office. They must be able to see the way things are going, just as the rest of us do, as well as the obvious truth that Trump is a highly unstable, mentally ill man. As Owen Jones explores here, his recent deranged tweets put that well beyond doubt. If that isn’t valid grounds for removing someone from office, what on earth could be? Thus I genuinely hope America gets a grip and does something to change course soon; otherwise the consequences could be horrifying. It might not be democratic in the strictest sense, but you’d think there would be a clause in their famous constitution which allows presidents to be stripped of office on medical grounds. Otherwise, what choice would we Brits have but to take back control of the American colonies?

Staying on the subject of Star Trek, I surely wouldn’t be doing my duty as a blogger if I didn’t direct everyone here, to probably the greatest piece of Trek-related analysis I’ve come across in a long, long time. It’s long and detailed, but in it, Jessie Gender discusses modern Star Trek, and the criticism reactionary p’tahks now hurl at it that contemporary Star Trek is too woke or liberal. Trek has always been woke, of course, but as she explains, such grifters seem to be pining for a conservative past which never actually existed. My concerns about it’s underlying Americano-centric worldview notwithstanding, part of what has always made Star Trek great is it’s championing of inclusion and diversity, including, as Jessie explores really well, how it handles disability. The video is over an hour long, but if you have the time, I’d really encourage you to give it a watch.

It has been a pretty wet, miserable day to be honest. As usual though, I far preferred to go out than stay here at home, so it has been a case of darting between busses, shops and trains as quickly as possible. Fortunately, here in London we have a world class public transport system, so it hasn’t been too bad. Busses are frequent and accessible, and thanks to the DLR I actually managed not to get too wet. However, I have to wonder whether this would have been the case anywhere other than the capital. You’ll have seen yesterday the announcement of massive a new rail infrastructure project in the North of England, which will enable faster connections to Leeds, York, Manchester and Liverpool. I naturally think this is only to be welcomed, although yesterday I facetiously began to wonder what ‘Crossrail’ would sound like in a northern accent. However, I must say key questions remain: new rail lines are all well and good, but what about other improvements? Are busses in Cheshire any better, or are they as crap and inaccessible as they were twenty years ago? Linking the ‘big’ cities (what a subjective term that now seems) is cool, but what about access to the other smaller northern towns? If we are serious about ‘levelling up’, surely these are the kinds of questions which must be answered. As a wheelchair user, I remember getting between towns and villages was an utter nightmare: you waited ages for a bus, and then the driver had to reluctantly get out of his cab to unfold the ramp manually for you. My biggest concern now is that things haven’t improved.

If like me you’re becoming increasingly concerned (read frightened) by what is currently unfolding in America, I have a couple of videos to flag up. Firstly, I think this Private Eye discussion is a good reflection of the bewilderment we all now feel. Hislop and co clearly have a good grasp of what is going on and what Trump is doing, but there is a definite rabbit-in-the-headlights dimension to their conversation. Secondly, I think this thorough debunking of what actually happened is certainly worth a watch. Details still seem to be quite hazy, but watching this yesterday gave me a much better grasp of the situation. Watching either video, however, makes things seem all the more horrific: as what actually took place – the cold-blooded murder of an unarmed woman – becomes clearer and clearer – the fact that the American president is still attempting to deceive us all over this should send shivers down our collective spines.

I was just browsing Facebook on this dull wet afternoon, when I came across a link to this new blog on one of the disability related pages. The fact that it is focussed on travel got me interested of course, but I’d just like to flag up something I find problematic. It’s a blog written by the mum of a man called Corey, a 25-year-old American with Spinal Muscular Atrophy. She says her blog is about ‘Empowering caregivers’, and writes “At My Sandy Trail, I believe that every caregiver deserves to be healthy and happy. My blog shares inspiring stories and tips not only for making wheelchair accessible travel a reality, but also ensuring that you and your loved one can create unforgettable memories together in a safe and healthy way!”

Sorry if I’m being a bit grouchy, but this instantly sent my mind back to what I wrote here, about people speaking for disabled people when we’re perfectly able to speak for ourselves. Such so-called ‘advocates’ may mean well, but isn’t it a bit patronising for a mum to speak for her son, and document their adventures online? Can’t he do so hisself, so we get his own perspective on the issues he faces rather than that of his mother? After all, this blog would be vastly different if my parents were writing it for me (it would probably have a lot more about making marmalade!) On the other hand, it could well be the case that Corey does not want to blog and is fine with his mum documenting their adventures, so I better not read too much into it. Even so, I still think accounts of disability issues from disabled people rather than their ‘caregivers’ are always preferable.

I got in from my trundle earlier to read the news that Nadhim Zahawi has now defected to Reform. Of course I automatically flew into a spasm of rage – anything to do with that group of deranged xenophobes irritates me like a bee sting. But now that I come to think about it, you have to wonder what it might mean. It’s obviously one of the biggest political news stories we’ve seen in a while: on the one hand, it’s obviously a sign that Reform are getting bigger and stronger as a political party, which should be an anathema to any sensible, intelligent person. On the other hand though, it’s also obviously a sign that the Tories are getting weaker. Zahawi was once their chancellor after all, so could the defection of someone once so high up in the party be a sign of something quite major? The beginning of the end of the whole Conservative party, perhaps? Then again, as fond of that thought as I might be, with global politics looking like it does, I dread to think what far right scumbaggery we might get in it’s place.

I watched Top Gun Maverick on Channel Four last night. There was nothing else on TV, I hadn’t seen it before, and I’m still looking for something new to get into. However, I soon started to find what I was watching utterly nauseating: as a film it is crammed with American bravado like sickly sweet ice cream piled onto a cone. It’s essentially about a fighter pilot who seems free to break any rule he wants, training a group of fellow pilots for a seemingly impossible mission against a vague, unnamed enemy. This group is always referred to as ‘the best’, probably just because they’re American, and is shown buzzing around in multi million pound fighter planes like they’re toys.

Look, I know I shouldn’t be too negative; I also know I can’t give any real, in-depth analysis in one short Sunday morning blog entry. But this really was American filmic dick waving*. It came across as a statement that Americans can do whatever they want and get out of any situation simply because they’re American. For example, towards the end of the film, the stranded Tom Cruise Maverick character just steals an enemy fighter plane they’ve just left lying around! It stretched the limits of plausibility far beyond breaking point, but the film treated the characters with such cheesy gusto and reverence that it made me want to puke. I don’t know how much my opinion of this film has been tainted by what I currently think of the USA, but in the current light, such tripe came across as nauseatingly arrogant and infantile.

*We Brits could obviously be accused of doing the same thing with James Bond. Yet it seems to me that, while everyone knows 007 is a mythological remnant of a long-faded empire, this was a reflection of how America actually perceives itself and it’s authority over the wider world.

Changing the subject entirely, my heartfelt congratulations must suddenly go to Macclesfield FC. I don’t mention football much on here, but, as a guy with roots down the road in Congleton, Macc are still one of the teams I keep an I on. My heart was in my mouth as I watched them play Crystal Palace just now. To be honest, just being able to watch such a football match on the BBC was awesome in itself; but watching the Silkmen pull off what many are now calling one of the biggest upsets in football history surely made my weekend.

Now to see how Charlton does….

I don’t think I have any choice today but to direct everyone here, to today’s Owen Jones video in which he discusses recent events in Minneapolis. What is unfolding there and in America at large is utterly shocking: as I understand it, an immigration officer shot dead a 37-year-old woman. She was behaving peacefully, but Trump has immediately attempted to rewrite what happened and claim she was breaking the law or attacking the officer. Evidence is obviously scant, but going by what Jones shows us, what Trump is trying to do here is a brazen act of fascism. There is no other word for such a clear attempt to distort the evidence. We are now watching. the world’s most powerful superpower being overtly manipulated and deceived by a right-wing autocrat while those who dare to oppose him are being shot in cold blood. We should all find that very worrying indeed.

John gave me quite a surprise yesterday. When he checked his calendar, he remembered that he had booked for us to go and watch Woman In Mind at the Juke of York’s theatre yesterday evening. I didn’t know anything about it – I hadn’t even heard of the play – but I’m always up for such things. When I googled it though, I saw that Ramesh Ranganathan was in it, who I still have quite large doubts about.

To be honest, what I found myself watching yesterday was very troubling indeed. A 1985 play by Alan Ayckbourn, Women in Mind purports to be a comedy, but frankly there is nothing comic about the subject it deals with. It depicts a woman with schizophrenia and her decent into severe mental illness: we see her interactions with various hallucinated characters as she becomes more and more troubled and uncomfortable. Frankly, knowing what I know about mental illness, I found nothing funny about it; but the fact that we were supposed to somehow find what we were watching humorous, as these hallucinations cavorted across the stage, left a very nasty taste in my mouth. It was as if the audience were being invited to laugh at the woman’s illness and clear, increasing discomfort, as if it was just all a big jolly game. I don’t know if I missed something, but as society in general becomes more aware of mental illness and it’s seriousness, I’m afraid to say I found it rather perverse.

We learn from history that there are often periods when certain distinct powers or cultures have risen to dominance: the Roman Empire, the Spanish Empire, the British Empire etc. Epochs when countries have been so large and powerful that they have more or less ruled over or dominated the known world. History also tells us that such empires also invariably come to a crashing end. For the last seventy years or so, since at least the end of the Second World War, the USA has been that dominant power: it has been the world’s richest country; American culture has dominated our screens.

Yet, since 2016 at least, so called American exceptionalism has been shown to be a sham, and Americans to be fools taking credit for the creativity and ingenuity of others. Ask any American and the internet was an american invention, used predominantly by Americans; the same goes for film, music, or any other staple of modernity. But just as the web was the invention of a Brit, Tim Berners-Lee, the time has come for Americans to get off the bloated cultural pedestal they claim as their birthright. From the sound of it, of course, Americans still think they dominate, and once Trump is removed from office things will return to what they perceive as normal. Yet I now think it’s time for the American epoch to end, and America to be put in it’s place: it’s recent aggression towards Venezuela puts that beyond all doubt.

It’s time for Americans to realise that the world isn’t theirs to dominate, and they aren’t the world’s police. We are perfectly capable of settling our disputes without the jumped up buffoon in the White House getting in the way or taking credit. Trump has transformed the USA from benign, welcoming superpower into an arrogant fascistic bully, and I’m afraid that change is now irreversible. The only question is, who could replace them?

I just got home from my daily trundle. It was just one of my regular routes, past the Royal Standard, through Charlton and Woolwich, along the river to North Greenwich then home via bus. It was cold but the sky was clear and blue, and as I was going I was struck by a feeling of pleasant familiarity. I was going through areas I know well, and which all now trigger warm, pleasant memories. Places which have a homely, relaxing quality for me: parks where I remember watching cricket matches, cafes where I remember drinking coffee; the path along the Thames, flowing imperiously eastward as it has done since before the beginning of history, along which I have now rolled many times. Thus in spite of the cold I couldn’t help feeling a hint of spring in the air, as if the metropolis about me was telling me that a wonderful new year was on the horizon. The future of the wider world may seem troubled and uncertain, yet the timeless beauty of this city, of its parks and rivers and grand historic buildings, will always shine through. In them there is always the potential for something incredible; and, like the river flowing through it, the city will remain constant as it has always been, no matter the folly of the world around it. Whenever I need to remind myself of that, I know I just need to head out for a trundle.

I went with John to watch Marty Supreme on Thursday evening. It’s a very odd film – a biopic set around a central character who I left the cinema despising.

The guy was so obnoxious, arrogant and cocky that I left the cinema wondering whether the audience was supposed to have any kind of sympathy with him, or why anyone would make a film about such a jerk. But then it struck me that the film was just a very timely allegory for Donald Trump, or even the USA itself.

There is only one place I can possibly direct everyone to today. I just watched Wild London, having gone out to the cinema last night. What I just saw was a real treat: I’ve now lived in London for sixteen years or so, and like most people tend to think of London as a concrete urban sprawl. What Sir David Attenborough does in this amazing program is reveal the wildlife of the metropolis to us: it’s always there, if you just look, in the gardens and parks and canals. We tend to associate Sir David with the far-flung wild corners of the world – the great oceans and deserts and mountains. But what I love about this program is that he brings the same sense of wonder and beauty home to our very doorstep. Above all, this documentary makes me more eager than ever to go out into this city and explore Wild London for myself.

John and I seem to have started quite an awesome New Year’s Eve Tradition. After going to watch Cabaret last December 31st, John proposed we go to see Moulin Rouge. I have seen the film a few times of course, so I was obviously up for it. What I didn’t really expect, though, was quite what a fantastic treat I was in for: as soon as the performance started at the Piccadilly Theatre last night, I was drawn into a world of singing and spectacle; proletarian revolutionaries and Montmartre whores, snapping into a vast array of pop songs and sophisticated dance routines at a moment’s notice. While I don’t feel like writing any form of in-depth review, this was west end theatre at it’s very, very finest.

In short, Moulin Rouge is a great piece of cinema adapted for the stage, resulting in a production which once again reminded me just how awesome life in this city can get. Yet the issue I have today was the same problem I had last year, and whenever I go to such wonderful performances: how can I recapture the sense of life and joy that I felt last night? It was a beautiful, heartbreaking love story, told through music and dance and humour: the tale of the doomed love affair between an English writer and a flamboyant dancer. The audience was pulled into the stage so that the whole theatre felt alive. One moment I was on the verge of tears and the next at the height of euphoria. It was the kind of experience you can only encounter in a west end theatre: impeccably timed, professionally performed, yet seething with humanity and pathos. I felt it resonated with me personally – as did, I daresay, everyone else there. Yet ultimately it was a truly sublime way to see in the new year, although to be honest my appetite has just been whetted for more.

Truth be told, now that I’ve sat down to write my annual summary of the year, I simply find myself wanting to echo what I wrote about 2024. Rather like the last one, it wasn’t that spectacular a year: my trips to Cyprus and Paris were obviously great, but that’s about it. More widely, the picture grows ever more concerning, and I’m afraid that it now darkens every time I watch the news. If anything things are now even more ominous. The situation is now so unpredictable that what the new year will bring is anybody’s guess. Yet every morning I still wake up knowing that there is potential for something incredible to happen, so we can’t get too downhearted. I really hope everyone reading this has a great new year. The wider world might well be going crazy, and sociopolitical forces which humanity should have outgrown long ago may now be resurgent, but that’s no reason not to go out and have fun.

I wrote recently about my experiences of growing up going to a special school, and about how that meant I came into contact with young people with a wide range of disabilities. That includes kids with autism. While, to my knowledge, none of the young people in my class was on the autistic spectrum, many of the kids at school were quite profoundly autistic, and my experiences there have done a great deal to inform my conception of what autism is. It is a profoundly debilitating condition, as severe and serious as any other disability. The young people at school who had it were profoundly disabled and could barely do anything for their selves.

The problem is, as I started to explain here, these days the term seems to be being used more and more flippantly. This morning, for instance, I was on the tube up to Stratford when I overheard a teenager describe someone as “Obviously on the spectrum”. I must admit it immediately caught my ear: the statement was made so flippantly and casually that it could almost have been a joke, as if Autism is now nothing more than a mere social trend. People have apparently began to pin such labels upon one another at will, probably thinking they sound clever for doing so but obviously having no understanding of what being autistic really entails. Yet in so doing the terms they use so casually loose all meaning. When I think back to the young people I saw at school, barely able to do anything for them selves, I can’t help finding it sickening to hear such terms now being used in this way, as if being autistic just means you have a few personal quirks, and is no more significant than someone’s hair colour.

A couple of days ago I wrote how comforting it was to spend Christmas Day with my family. We were in the very North London house which used to belong to my grandparents, and which I still have extremely warm, happy memories of. For that day, the woes of the wider world seemed unfathomably distant. I have, however, just come across this article by John Simpson, and the woes of the wider world have come crashing back. I’m not sure how much of it is hyperbole or exaggeration, but it is the first time I have seen someone talking so openly about the prospect of an imminent Third World War. Simpson writes “I’ve reported on more than 40 wars around the world during my career, which goes back to the 1960s. I watched the Cold War reach its height, then simply evaporate. But I’ve never seen a year quite as worrying as 2025 has been – not just because several major conflicts are raging but because it is becoming clear that one of them has geopolitical implications of unparalleled importance.”

With Russia more warlike and confrontational than it has been in decades, and Putin’s puppet now installed in the States, the world clearly now stands at an extremely dangerous juncture. For the most part, my generation grew up in a world of peace: It’s all we have known, and it is what we have come to expect. Yet, from the sound of it, that is about to come to a crashing, catastrophic end. Largely thanks to things like Brexit and the rise of Trump, the old certainties we once depended upon have now evaporated. Russia is growing ever stronger and eager to dominate; America is becoming isolationist and inward-looking; Europe is becoming weaker and more powerless to intervene. As much as I hope this is just exaggeration and melodrama, reading articles like this should make us all gravely concerned.

Sorry to get slightly heavy, but as someone becoming increasingly concerned about the rise of Christian Nationalism and religious fundamentalism, particularly in America, I think I need to flag this Jimmy The Giant video up. While I’m not sure I agree with absolutely everything he says, it is quite an excellent summary of the rise of the religious right in America, and how Christianity is now being used as an overtly political, reactionary tool with which to justify all kinds of bigotry and xenophobia. Whatever your personal religious beliefs, it should be becoming increasingly clear that what we’re currently witnessing in America is the rise of fascism. It’s leaders shroud it in the guise of religion, and that unless it is called out, it is on a path to somewhere truly horrific.