I have to admit liking Homer Simpson. He’s up there with Fred Flintstone and Yogi Bear in my book – a well meaning good guy. So when he turned up waving a doughnut at the Cerne Abbas Giant I was surprised, yes, but not offended. Not outraged. And I certainly didn’t want to do a spell to make the rain fall and wash him away. Not yet, anyway.
Now admittedly it didn’t strike me as being the brightest of ideas to put Homer next to the giant. I don’t know what sort of white pigment was used, whether it would damage the grass, or frighten the sheep or maybe be visible from space. But when I read about pagans being ‘outraged’ ‘furious’ and a thousand and one other over-the-top adjectives I did stop in my tracks. After all, maybe the Cerne Giant was the Homer Simpson of his day, and his club was a doughnut equivalent.
If I want to get ‘outraged’ I’d like to at least find something worthwhile. Po-faced Pagans are on a par with Po Faced Victorians who demanded that the Giant’s naughty bits should be covered up in days gone by. They were apparently ‘outraged’ ‘furious’ and all that… (funny, I seem to have heard that before, quite recently…)
Why does everyone seem to be getting on their high horse and feeling so offended about every little thing lately? As pagans, can’t we just smile, shake our heads and say, ‘yes, well, it’s a bit of a laugh but it’ll be gone soon’ or something? Do we have to take everything to heart, looking for offence? Nobody asked me what I thought, and I’m a pagan. These spokesmen/spokeswomen/ spokespeople don’t actually speak for everyone.
I remember the first time I saw the Cerne Abbas giant when I was about six or seven years old. There was a tiny pub there, I think it was called the Blacksmith’s arms and it had been an old force once. I think it was the smallest pub in England. Maybe it still is. And I seem to remember the old village stocks were still there too and I had my photo taken sitting in them. Ah, those were the days!
Please don’t get worked up about this. In the great scheme of things it doesn’t really matter all that much. Homer Simpson isn’t permanent. Okay, he’s standing next to a naked giant brandishing a club. I could write reams on the phallic and sexual innuendo going on between those two (but I won’t). Just smile and move on, and remember:
Homer today, Gone tomorrow.
Seeking the Green by Tylluan Penry, published soon by Capall Bann. For more info - watch this space!
