Although I woke up in a shot, I made the executive decision to ignore whoever it might be, mainly because unless it was Autumn Reeser come to whisk me away on a Caribbean holiday I'd probably have started my day with a tirade of four-letter words directed towards the little bastard who was insisting on jabbing away at my doorbell like it was Lindsey Lohan's crotch and they were checking to see if she still had any feeling down there. If it wasn't for the fact that I felt clammy and gross (as a result of pig flu, I hasten to add) I probably would've gone at them like a complete mentalist, but instead I shut my eyes and hoped they'd go away.
Only later did I discover that the perpetraitors of this most heinous of crimes was - brace yourself - some f**king Jehovah's Witnesses.
OK, I like to think that I'm a very tolerant and understanding chap, and my general feeling towards most things is that as long as you're not hurting anyone you should pretty much be allowed to do what you want. But banging on MY front door stupidly early on a Sunday morning to try and engage me in conversation about YOUR religion is overstepping the mark. It's overstepping the mark BIG TIME.
As an extension of the tolerance noted above, I like to think that I'm respectful of other people's religions (except, perhaps, Scientology, because that one's bat-shit crazy). That doesn't, however, preclude me from pointing the finger of blame for many of the world's problems at organised religion. Don't believe me? Just look back through history - the Crusades, for example; the work of missionaries sent to foreign countries to convert people to a religion other than their own; the ongoing problems in the Middle East - just a few examples of how religion has caused problems rather than solve them.
That being my take on things, I'm happy for everyone to get on with their own beliefs while I formulate my own (if you're interested, I am, strictly speaking, Church of England, but my family is not at all religious, and I've only ever been to church once - when I was in Beavers and they threatened to chuck me out if I didn't go to Church Parade. Bastards). So, as you might imagine, I was a little bit pissed off that some Jehovah's Witnesses thought I might like to waste some of my time listening to them try and tell me why their views are better than mine.
In hindsight, I really wish I had gotten up and started talking to them - mainly because I would've been shouting at them from my bedroom window and I probably would've succumbed to temptation and thrown a shoe at them or something. Anyway, they left evidence of their visit in the form of a cheapily-printed leaflet telling me how I should get involved in Bible study in order to live a better and more rewarding life free of sin. Well, I hate to break it to you, chaps, but I already have a bible: it's called the Star Trek Encyclopedia, and while it is in dire need of an update (rather like the Bible, I s'pose), it's a damn sight more entertaining, and, dare I say it, less fictional than the one you want me to study. It's also full of pretty pictures of starships.
Anyway, if I know anything about Jehovah's Witnesses it's that they're persistent little buggers, and will no doubt be back. And if they do, I think I'll argue with them for at least an hour, then slam the door in their faces before discretely following them to their home. I shall then return to their abode later that evening at a time that is - god forbid! - greatly inconvenient to them, armed with a full 13 binder set of The Official Star Trek Fact Files, at which point I shall begin lecturing them on the concept of Sto-vo-kor and Gre'thor, the Klingon equivalents of heaven and hell. Let's see how they like them apples, eh?