Sunday, 27 June 2010

I realise that the BBC is staffed entirely by bien-pensant secularist pseudo-intellectuals, but I'm still consistently amazed by the lengths to which it will go in order to purge its programmes of all references to Christianity. Last Saturday's episode of Dr Who is a case in point: besides being chock full of the usual humanist goobledigook about the majesty of the cosmos (a cosmos full of genocidal aliens, of course), it included several striking instances in which obvious Christian references were clumsily obscured.

At one point, a 12-year-old girl was seen kneeling beside her bed, praying to some benevolent higher power. What might this higher power be? Santa Claus, of course! A crack in the fabric of time had erased her parents from history, leaving her to fend for herself. This presented no difficulty, however, as everyone knows that the family is an out-dated and potentially subversive convention. Even a single parent is one too many.

Later on, during a wedding scene, the action switched straight from the bride's bedroom to the reception. Apparently, the prospect of beaming a Christian ceremony into the homes of millions of unsuspecting viewers was one that the BBC deemed unacceptable. What if those viewers had found something admirable in this time-honoured tradition? What if it had given them pause to reflect on their own directionless, irresponsible lives? It's a relief to know that the arbiters of our state television network take such care over what they choose to broadcast, although I wonder why they don't exercise as much restraint when, for example, an unabashedly liscentious comedian decides to let loose a foul-mouthed tirade against a defenceless OAP. I can only conclude that, in Britain today, Jesus is the final taboo.

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