IN every nativity play, shepherds tending their flock are informed of Jesus’s birth by ‘a multitude of the heavenly host’, as it was written in the Gospel according to Luke.
But did you know that Luke fails to mention the common recreational practices of shepherds during winter solstice was to ingest copious amounts of psychedelics?
Because while miraculous events did indeed take place that night, historians now believe the true miracle is that the shepherds, post-angelic visit, were able to get up and walk with stunning amounts of narcotics coursing around their systems.
This holy trip is recorded in a disputed Gospel draft known as ‘Luke’s Rough Version’. It reads: “As it doth did get quite boring staying up all night tending to sheep, Macca did score us the root of the Judean desert cactus, also known as Bongo Patties.
“And the shepherds did that night decide to partake of the substance to pass the time. And it was good.
“But lo, as they contemplated a munchie run, the mountains were illuminated by the radiance of many holy angels, even such to only one among their number had the presence of mind to declare ‘oh shite, the rozzers’.
“And the shepherds did curse the obtainer of the substance for providing much too strong a dose.
“The angel said unto them, ‘Fear not: for behold I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people’. But lo, the shepherds were yet afraid, for they were witnessing a giant f**k-off angel in the f**king sky.
“So the shepherds did descend from the hills and converge on a stable claiming to be on orders from the Lord, which many awakened gentlefolk of Bethlehem did not appreciate.
“Eventually, they did barge in upon a newborn baby, whom they declared sore amazing, the light of the world and the lamb of God before they did lose consciousness in the hay. And when they awoke they swore never again.”
And so this night was eventually recorded in the gospels as part Christianity’s holiest night, though the main teaching for the shepherds was to take a half-dose next time.
Next week: to 1645, when Oliver Cromwell bans Christmas rather than go to his f**king showoff brother-in-law’s house.
