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Competition

Published 02 May 2005

Win vouchers to spend in any Tesco store

Competition No 3877

Set by Stan Knafler, 11 April

You discover that the ideals in which you believed passionately are wrong. We asked for your retraction, possibly placing the blame on someone else?

Report by Ms de Meaner

You took two courses here. Some picked people who were well-known for having given up their youthful ideals, and provided a new slant on their change of heart. Others picked people whose youthful ideals, as far as we knew, were still intact, and broke the startling news of their volte-face. £20 to the winners, the best of whom is Bill Greenwell, who also wins the Tesco vouchers for his Cliff.

When I said God is dead, I didn’t mean you, of course, silly! I mean . . . er . . . sorry for any misunderstanding, Sir. I meant my old mate, God . . . er . . . God Schmidt. Short for Gottfried. Poor chap, terrible loss. And how sad for poor . . . er . . . Heidi . . . Schmidt. What? I said that "the only excuse for God is that He doesn’t exist"? Well, Schmidt and I did have our differences. And that nonsense about "Nietzsche says let us re-create our own morals"? I was talking about the "morale" of the German nation, not the "morals". Don’t worry, that won’t happen again. I’ve had my proofreader taken out and shot . . . I mean, forgiven. Anyway, I’ve always been your number one fan, honest. Now, how about you let St Peter open those gates, ja? I think you’ll find my beach towel was sent on ahead, just in case . . .

DAVID SILVERMAN

The perfect white of the tramlines; the sanctity of holding hands; the deep, abiding belief in the power of worship; the importance of using a safety razor daily; the redemptive power of Eurovision; the perfection of Emily Brontë; the in corpore sanophilosophy in which I’ve always believed - all these have been stripped away in an instant. Tennis is tedious; sex is sensational; the Ghost’s unholy; beards (untrimmed) are natural; jingle-pap makes me vomit; "Wuthering Depths", more like; and sweat-stains are better than soap-scent, any day. So, yes, I’ve changed. Listen, guys, this is all down to God - although I can’t say that any more - so it’s all down to Elvis. He led me astray. The honest truth is, grunge and drugs are good for you, and here’s my new single: "Christmas Is For Sheep, So Ram It Down Your Throat". Don’t download it. The charts are pure piss.

BILL GREENWELL

The Anglican Communion, I have long believed, proclaims God’s love and mercy, his all-embracing forgiveness in a troubled world. However, after the events of the past two years, I have come to realise that this once liberal and broad-minded deity is in fact motivated by spite and malice of the meanest sort. His one idea appears to be to ruin the lives of millions. I have done my best, as I have told Him on numerous occasions, to combat this feeling, but the vicious workings of the Holy Spirit, to whom I have constantly appealed at Synod and in sundry other places, have convinced me that there is a retrogressive trend in the Trinity which is marching us inexorably towards the worst excesses of the Old Testament. Someone else can have a go at keeping this shambles together, because in my considered view it is not worth a stack of old hassocks.

JOSH EKROY

Youthful beliefs must not stand in the way of progress _ of either one’s offspring or one’s career. I am not selfish. I want only to serve the electorate right _ or rightly, if you prefer. Tony showed what is right is the policy of modern Labour. I felt it right, maternally, to secure for my son a grammar-school education. The local comprehensive offers a good enough education, but for a gifted child _ especially if gifted with me as a parent _ one must do more. As for the war, I was right behind it. I am confident I am right. I’ve learned that from my leader. "It would be awfully good," he said, "if you could do some soliciting for us." I’m still a looker and used to men making odd suggestions. "Just general soliciting," he continued. Wasn’t I right to accept?

M E AULT

No 3880

Set by Ian Birchall

To welcome the new Pope, write a Bond song or film scenario. Not Goldfinger this time, but Ratzinger.

Text (150 words) or song in by 12 May. E-mail: comp@newstatesman.co.uk

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