Matt Gemmell

TOLL is available now!

An action-thriller novel — book 2 in the KESTREL series.

★★★★★ — Amazon

Church bells

personal 1 min read

Every Sunday morning, the nearby church rings its bloody 
bells for fifteen minutes. Fifteen continuous minutes, without a break. BONG - BONG - BONG!

Surely there's a law against this? I appreciate the whole tradition of ringing the bells to 
call the great unwashed masses to worship, but that's largely irrelevant nowadays.

Firstly, anyone who's going to go to church will be going anyway. Anyone who is <em>considering</em>
going, for whatever reason, isn't going to be swayed by some daft bells. Most self-proclaimed Christians 
don't go to church anyway. And those of us who see Christianity (and indeed, organised religion in general; 
let's not unfairly single-out just one of them) 
as at best irrelevant and at worst downright dangerous, just find the bells annoying. I'd like to still 
be asleep at 10:45am on a Sunday, which is difficult with those bloody bells ringing away.

I can only presume that churches are exempt from "breach of the peace" or "noise pollution" laws, which 
strikes me as a crazy state of affairs, and astronomically unfair. Are they only allowed to ring bells, 
or could they technically start torturing us all by broadcasting the congregation's agonising caterwauling, 
and their weekly orgy of dreadful toadying towards their own appropriate deity? <em>God</em>, I hope not!


Indeed, can any organisation which claims to be a "religion" contravene those laws with impunity? If so, 
I can't imagine why I've not heard about it before, and I shall most certainly be starting my own potted 
cult as soon as at all possible. Every Tuesday, at 9:22pm (the very minute of my birth, on the day of the 
week of my birth, henceforth known as The Day Of Matt), I shall play a selection of Dire Straits classics 
at top volume, with my speakers hanging out of the windows in true student-halls style. 
At that special time each week, everyone is heartily encouraged to gather in the street and sing along, dance, 
and just generally wallow in the Brotherhood of Matt. Drunkenness is heartily encouraged.

Until that happy time when we can all join together in peace and harmony to appreciate Mark Knopfler's gruff 
vocals and, dare I say, god-like guitar stylings, I shall console myself by looking into noise-pollution laws 
in more detail.