How I Came to Meet Jeremy Corbyn.
There I was.
The guy called "King." With the scars on his hands in the shape of Stigmata.
Being dragged to Court. On Maundy Thursday.
When, all of a sudden, an extended family of Jews boarded the Metro carriage. The grandmother was in the middle of warning the grandkids not to stand too close to the platform's edge as the train arrives.
There is a US TV show called; "The Goldbergs." A family sitcom about a Jewish family.
Everytime one of the children wants to do something the mother, Beverly, tries to scare them out of it. By telling them an outlandish story about the child of one of her friends who did the exact same thing but ended up being horribly injured.
For example;
"Get a Job?! Nancy Bloom's son wanted to get a job. Then the first day at the lumber yard he lost his foot in a forklift accident. He'll never bicycle around Europe now."
Yes. That. Exactly That.
As this extended family boarded the carriage the other passengers spotted who they were. They also spotted who I was. Where I was going and what day it was.
Everyone then took a deep breath back and held it. Too afraid to make a slip.
Everyone that is except for the Jewish grandmother. She leaned forward and went in three times as hard.
As I'm sure around 2.2bn Christians will agree.
That sounds like the start of a great story.
Unfortunately it's one I'm not allowed to tell.
Not here. Not in the Ottoman Empire.
Increasingly everywhere.
So if I ever do meet Jeremy Corbyn again. Remind me to show him my stigmata.
Or at least what they hide behind.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6j61TWsjcJY
The guy called "King." With the scars on his hands in the shape of Stigmata.
Being dragged to Court. On Maundy Thursday.
When, all of a sudden, an extended family of Jews boarded the Metro carriage. The grandmother was in the middle of warning the grandkids not to stand too close to the platform's edge as the train arrives.
There is a US TV show called; "The Goldbergs." A family sitcom about a Jewish family.
Everytime one of the children wants to do something the mother, Beverly, tries to scare them out of it. By telling them an outlandish story about the child of one of her friends who did the exact same thing but ended up being horribly injured.
For example;
"Get a Job?! Nancy Bloom's son wanted to get a job. Then the first day at the lumber yard he lost his foot in a forklift accident. He'll never bicycle around Europe now."
Yes. That. Exactly That.
As this extended family boarded the carriage the other passengers spotted who they were. They also spotted who I was. Where I was going and what day it was.
Everyone then took a deep breath back and held it. Too afraid to make a slip.
Everyone that is except for the Jewish grandmother. She leaned forward and went in three times as hard.
As I'm sure around 2.2bn Christians will agree.
That sounds like the start of a great story.
Unfortunately it's one I'm not allowed to tell.
Not here. Not in the Ottoman Empire.
Increasingly everywhere.
So if I ever do meet Jeremy Corbyn again. Remind me to show him my stigmata.
Or at least what they hide behind.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6j61TWsjcJY
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