Drop Which Pilate?

Listening to Heroes Symphony by Philip Glass

A funny old day Easter Saturday. I have an extra day off this Tuesday but still this strange day between Bank Holidays seems to be more of day for doing nothing than the most recent candidate for non-day of the year which was Leap Day. It never occurred to me that my company was getting an extra day out of me for no pay - I just assumed that, like the astronomical reasons for the existence of January 29th, my salary was apportioned across the four years to cover that extra day. What about the two times out of seven that the day falls at the weekend? I can't be bothered to spend time thinking for arguments either way.

I am lost in the weird world of alternative Pilates at the moment. He was either a member of small tribe from outside Rome, a Spaniard who was effectively banished to Judea by the Emperor Tiberius for marrying above his station (and this just prior to his first night with his bride after Tiberius was a guest at the wedding - handing Pilate the order to depart for Judea on the waiting Bireme from inside his toga leaving Pilate to wait six years before consummating his marriage) or a German who grew up in red trousers and whose first pair are still on display in some Teutonic town. All this ignores the real story that he actually comes from Tyneside, which is my favourite truth. And of course there is no way we will ever really know. All of this is the first chapter, which leaves me wondering how much the rest of the book can actually reveal. I suppose I'd better read the relevant bits of The Gospels to make sure I understand the only other historical context because obviously I cannot rely on the BBC Passion being entirely accurate (it probably sparked howls of clunky derision from certain people for not including Jesus' replacement of a severed ear and it certainly wound up this secular humanist by having an announcer directing viewers over to an episode of Steptoe and Son on BBC4 directly after the crucifixion scene, albeit in sombre-ish tones).

Last night I dreamed of the moment when Pilate made his decision, trying to imagine the two worlds splitting off from each other - one where Christ carries on towards our own world, crucified, risen, becoming the head of Christianity - and the other where he is released to two possible futures - a leader of a revolution maybe more political than religious - or a return to obscurity in Galilee, just about recorded as a minor distraction in the mess of Middle-Eastern history. And I could not get beyond either - it was just too much to imagine the world any different from the accepted path. And there is no point - this timeline is this timeline - those timelines (which may exist in some theories of the Universe) are only possible in our minds.

Get over it!