Mechanised Christ

Mechanised Christ

Recent breakthroughs in the creation and laboratorial cultivation of synthetic life have resulted in the opportunity to realise one of yours truly's most cherished and consuming ambitions: the creation of a mechanised version of Christ. The possible applications for such a construct are endless. Could be used, with varying degrees of success, as -

• a mediator in religious conflicts across the planet



• a means of Stalinising the Vatican by deposing the incumbent ruler and purging the rank and file of the bourgeoisie (resultant population: 2 - Mechanised Christ plus the individual who cleans the stained glass window in St. Peter's Bascilica)



• a potentially lucrative "Moving Statues" phenomenon

Original plan was to insert stands of recombinant articifical DNA into Cliff Richard however this was prevented from coming to fruition as the fool had the temerity to ascend into Heaven just as one has surmounted the electronic fences of the holding area where he is traditionally maintained by his benefactors. It does admittedly seem strange to incarcerate an adult human in a 5x5 metal cage with a cardboard box for a toilet but one supposes it's all for the best. Apparently, the fellow is a homosexual so one can never be too carfeul. Mr. Portillo surely knows what he is doing.

Venter Corporation were sadly unforthcoming with the specifics of their discovery. Allied to the fact that paucity of funds means that one's genetics laboratory doubles for one's cistern this meant that a certain degree of scaling back on the original paradigm was necessary. So one completed the project by grafting the figurehead of a recently recovered Spanish galleon, substituting its head for a likeness of Christ, on to a Segway. The breasts were particularly impressive.

With the prototype now in operation one immediately utilised the device for the endeavour for which it was undoubtedly best suited: ram-raiding garage shops. The plan involved positioning the apparatus at the far end of the forecourt just out of sight of the garage attendant, mounting the device inconspicuously, revving the engine to maximum before setting off at top speed and using the head as a battering ram to undermine the structural integrity of the wall. (See Fig. 1 below)

Fig.1 - The Plan

Plan was flawless but for a small number of unforseen factors -

1) The comparatively slow maximum of speed of a Segway which, it transpires, renders generating sufficient momentum to blast open a concrete wall or shatter double-paned glass difficult. The result is ultimately that one does not thrust ones way into a shop through a haze of asbestos and concrete dust surrounded by screaming hordes of terrified customers so much as merely meekly caress the outer wall, giving one the chance to admire the quite lovely Edwardian brickwork and, after a few "thuds", annoy the attendant to the extent that he has to look up from his pornography magazine to see what that strange, insistent knocking sound is.

2) The fact that, given these petrol stations were in Dolphin's Barn, many of the customers and staff were, dispiritingly, equipped with small arms ranging from Beretta pistols to Uzi sub-machine guns. Which made making off with the cash and Maltesers tricky.

3) The figurehead of the device weighed considerably more than the rest of it, leading to a rather dangerous imbalance which could only be compensated for by attaching the carcass of a cow that had foolishly wandered into the path of one's shotgun fire yesterday to the rear of the Segway as a counterweight, further inhibiting the already disappoinging maximum speed.

Initial attempts to requisition valuables typically found in garage shops (cash, petrol, condoms, Mars bars) thus proving ineffective, decided to regroup and reconsider strategy. It was at this juncture however that the most salient problem phallically reared its head. While one was considering whether or not the addition of a pellet gun to the cleavage of the figurehead on the device would prove a tactically worthwhile augmentation, the device started of its own accord and took off down the motorway at an impressive speed. All the more impressive when one considers that the cow was still attached to the rear and was now bouncing all over the road like a cat after being dropped repeatedly on an electrified rail. For no other reason than to observe the results of what could potentially be a lucrative experiment, one donned one's cape and duly gave chase.

Tracking down one's quarry initally proved difficult due to its headstart and due to the fact that the makeshift radar that one had concocted did little more than bleep intermittently (and cause one individual's pacemaker to fail - further research required). However the sudden appearance of screams and machine gun fire alerted one to the development that Mecha Christ had taken a sharp left off the motorway and into a pre-school. Fortunately, this particular school was in the process of being assaulted by Basque Separatists (who were taking heavy casualties) so the appearance of Mecha Christ went relatively un-noticed.

Two hours later one's pursuit had yet to yield any satisfactory results. Mecha Christ had now made unscheduled and thoroughly unwelcome appearances in a retirement home, a synagogue (that was funny, actually), a fireworks factory, a Samaritans call centre and a courtroom with its path of destruction now taking it out of the city and into the wastelands infested with subhuman mutants actively perusing their own excrement for portions of sustenance (collectively known as Kildare) beyond. The distance to the target was now too great. One was beginning to regret one's decision to periodically break off pursuit every thirty-five minutes to masturbate.

Studying the historical documentation on how this crisis was resolved last time, one pieced together a rudimentary nailgun using a Cornflakes packet and an elastic band and procured a crucifix from the nearest church. Needed to be sure of the effectiveness of any potential solution so decided to test it first. Volunteers proved difficult to secure as many for some reason were not open to the possibility of having a six inch nail fired through the palm of their hand (although an Indonesian fellow showed some interest before being deported). With volunteers in short supply, one turned to the most obvious solution and decided to use salmon as test subjects for crucifiction. Who proved thoroughly unsuitable. As soon as you grab hold of one it begins squirming, you need to strike its head repeatedly off a nearby statue in order to subdue it, then quickly fire the nail in through the tail before it regains consciousness and attempts to subdue its captor with conversation. One really should have used beetles for such an experiment only their tendency to disintegrate once a six-inch nail is fired into their thorax (established in a previous experiment) is unfortunate.

There was no alternative - one would have to test the solution on oneself. Which proved tricky. Seventeen consecutive attempts (with breaks for tea and masturbation between them) yielded only two definite conclusions: one's hands and feet hurt badly and, try as one might, there is simply no way to hammer in the final nail by oneself. Decided at any rate that this would have to do.

One staked out a spot of motorway, erected the cross and made with the nailgunning. Three hours later one was just about ready to give up hope when a blur of dust on the horizon betrayed the appearance of one's renegade creation. One pushed oneself up on one's feet - proud, erect and aroused - and braced for the impact which would, if the sight of the crucifix alone was not enough to terrify Mecha Christ to death, no doubt detonate the fifteen pounds of semtext one had thoughtfully deposited in the left breast. As it grew closer, imagine one's despair at the realisation that the approaching object was not in fact Mecha Christ but rather a flying wheelbarrow propelled by what appeared to be a Katyusha rocket launcher. Now, who on Earth would consider using a wheelbarrow as a weapon and do something stupid like firing it, one pondered seconds before impact.

Stumbled back home several hours later having sewed back on one's favourite appendage. One wasn't too worried about the missing arms and legs - they've grown back before; they'll grow back again. All told, today's experiments could only be considered a qualified success. Tomorrow one plans to develop a tracking system that will hopefully pinpoint Mecha Christ's movements over the coming weeks. If for no other reason than the fact that it should be amusing to see what it gets up to when it reaches Maynooth Seminary or what happens when it goes down a flight of stairs. The information will also prove useful for intelligence purposes when one constructs a satisfactory countermeasure. Read on a way home a note that said "Christ has risen. Christ will come again."

Not after he encounters Mecha Mohammed, he won't.