Pride is one of the Seven Deadly Sins.
It’s actually top of the list – Pride, Covetousness, Lust, Anger, Gluttony, Envy and Sloth.
This is the type of shit that was beaten into us as Good Little Catholic Boys. Shit that takes up valuable memory space that is sorely needed in my elder years. I can’t remember what happened yesterday but I can remember the Seven Deadly Sins. Frankly I don’t think they quite fit the teachings of Jesus and sound more like the invention of some cunt who just wanted to make us into good little obedient slaves. What the fuck has gluttony or indeed sloth got to do with Christianity?
Anyway, transgressions of any of these will ensure eternal hell fire and damnation without any recourse to appeal or chance of early release. We will burn in hell for all eternity, for ever and ever and ever while demons poke us and prod us with white hot tridents. Our screams of agony will echo around the universe for all time. The Catholic Church loves its dramatic sufferings and threats.
I am proud.
No, I’m not “gay” or any of that bullshit. I won’t be dressing up on rainbow coloured Spandex tights and bearing my oiled up hairless chest to the world, with or without a medallion adorning my neck.
My pride is a quiet one. A warm little feeling in my heart that gives me a glow of happiness. It’s a quiet pride that doesn’t need any parades or floats or heavy makeup.
You see, Grandson has come first in his class. Not only that but he has won a scholarship to Dublin City University Centre for Talented Youth Summer Programme. Why the fuck shouldn’t I be proud?
I’ll take my chances with the hell fire bit.