"Why don't you revert?" My mother asked me after I'd inadvertantly whinged about what a cruel world I live in. Revert? What do you mean 'revert'?

"Oh" She said with that air of confidence I would receive a revelation of commonsense as she defines it, "Go back to being Mister..."

For my mother it's a matter of self esteem. She all but admitted that during our conversation. It isn't really a matter of status because she would never accept I was above her in any case, regardless of legal and social issues. Instead she has always taken great delight in popping peoples bubbles. To her, my title is an obstacle to becoming a christian, something she desires above all else. Whilst I have the title and insist on its use, I must by definition have some sense of self worth. If I lose that self worth, then surely I would turn to God or Jesus in despair at my failures in life?

Why would I turn to something that I have no faith in? What she fails to grasp is that I don't believe in christian mythology at all. To me it isn't real, just a fabricated belief system designed to create social order and obedience. For her that system is perfect. She is, without doubt, the most joyless character I've ever known. Everything is about duty in her mind, and my failure to adopt the christian faith is something that rankles and continues to make her seek ways to persuade me otherwise. So blinded by her own faith, and indeed, ego, she fails to realise that all she's done is demonstrate how false christianity is. I've spoken many times about how the church always attempts to assume the moral high ground when in fact for the majority of adherents it serves as little more than an excuse to assuage their guilt for their very human sins. Don't just believe me, ask the Pope.

Why would I turn to something that attempts to denigrate me? To crush me underfoot? It is interesting that there's been a sudden wave of resistance against my use of Lord, a title I hold legally. Someone doesn't like it obviously. But like many influential people with an axe to grind, that person doesn't speak to me, but instead has obedient associates make life difficult until I surrender my principles. In my mothers case, she clearly doesn't see me as anything more than a naughty child that needs to see the error of his ways.

As I left my parents house on sunday, she said "Remember you're my son".

Being an adult of sound mind and with legal rights and opportunities, I don't like the inference. There was a Roman writer called Cassius Dio. When I read his histories of the society he lived in, I noted that he continually mentions men being made slaves of. At first, I thought he meant literally, with these unfortunate victims being dragged off in chains. No, that's wrong. He meant people being made to act in some elses name, forced to cast aside their beliefs and principles and darn well do as they're told. But then - My mother wouldn't waste her time reading Roman history. She wouldn't understand any of it. Because it doesn't fit her own ideas of how the world should be.

Her attempts to convert me are not based on moral or spiritual superiority, but spite and vanity. I find it somewhat ironic that she is, in effect, doing the devils work in the name of Christ. My mother hovers like a vulture, waiting to pounce on my dying individuality. It is therefore for me a question of free will. She doesn't like my right to choose alternatives. I imagine she didn't like what I said about that either.

On A Lighter Note

My struggle for self-determination is a bit wearisome. So lets forget that for a while. I have another four job applications to make today. The sun is shining, the man in the library who groans loudly periodically has left, the other guy has been told to switch off his mobile phone, and the little brat downstairs has been refused permission to do whatever he wanted to. So at least I'm not alone!