Social media has been in meltdown in recent days about graffiti allegedly defacing the hallowed walls and pillars of Canterbury Cathedral. The graffiti in the Cathedral has been seen as symptomatic of a range of ills – from the death of the Church of England to the final demise of Western Culture. Some have called for Anglican clergy to be 'strung up' for this blasphemous outrage. JD Vance and Elon Musk piled in, condemning the cathedral graffiti as ugly and disrespectful. If

It was in the mid-1990s that I discovered I was the Antichrist. The insight into my true identity came in a letter from a Mrs McPherson, who lived on the Isle of Man. She’d read a book I’d written on fashion and style, and was offended that a Christian writer (a minister no less) could write a book on a topic as worldly as bodily adornment. Mrs McPherson didn’t hold back. She described my book as: ‘a monstrous, blasphemous lie’ and ‘a wilful transgression of God’s word’. She

My interest in politics started at the age of 11. The secondary school I attended in small-town Warwickshire marked the 1974 General Election with a mock election of its own. Pupils stood as representatives of the political parties standing in the national poll. Hustings were held, speeches given, ballot boxes set up. I found myself drawn to the Communist candidate. He was tall and pale, with the hair of a prog rock bassist. He painted utopian word-pictures of the egalitarian

Are you religious? It’s a question the pollsters Gallup have been asking Americans since 1999 – and charting a slow decline in the percentage of the population saying yes. It appears in polls and surveys this side of the Atlantic too, including one I filled in the other day. The pollsters clearly feel the question is uncontroversial and unbiased, a helpful tool to winkle out the desired information. The same question crops up in online dating encounters. From experience, it t

The singer’s face is intense, flushed, contorted with emotion. It’s Saturday lunchtime in the centre of Kingston upon Thames, and she’s singing to a backing of bass-heavy pop standards while a small crowd listens. These days the street singers I walk past invariably strain, emote and grimace as they force their voices into acrobatic displays. Every song an exercise in purple-faced histrionics. In part it’s the fault of the TV talent shows: The Voice, Britain’s Got Talent, X F