Currently Reading Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal By Christopher Moore see related

The scene opens up with Duncan and Barclay driving a carriage through the streets of London.  The carriage can be an elaborate piece of set construction or it can be four chairs.  It does not matter.

Duncan: Well Barclay, we’ve got the whole night ahead of us and all of London is our oyster.  Let’s see if we can make a shilling or five.

Barclay:  Woof!

They drive for a bit.

Duncan: Well spread my syphilis!  There’s a bloke right there.  (he pulls over) Hey!  Do you need a lift or what?

Galt: Yes.  Thank you very much.  (enters the carriage.  Barclay immediately proceeds to investigate)  Umm… Nice… doggie? (pats Barclay twice on the head and Barclay licks his face)

Duncan: So where are you off to?

Galt:  I need to go to the conservatory.  My name is Dr. Sigmund Galt and I’m giving a lecture on the Human Mind’s Triumph over God.

Duncan: Sweet scab picking!  Why, Barclay and I were just talking about that the other day, weren’t we Barclay?

Barclay: (sniffs Galt’s butt)

Galt: I beg your pardon!

Duncan: Oh don’t mind him; Barclay’s just making your acquaintance.  Well don’t be shy Doctor, give us a whirl of your speech.

Galt: Well I must say, this is a bit irregular.  I’m not sure if I should do that.

Duncan: I know just how you feel.  I was irregular once meself, but then me mum fed me bran muffins and I’ve had three beautiful brown bum babies a day ever since. (fishes a muffin out of his pocket) I’ve got one on me if you think it will help.

Galt: Umm… no thank you.  Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to briefly go over the main points.  Ahem.  (adjusts spectacles)  God is an invention of mankind designed primarily to explain the things that we could not understand.  Natural disasters were signs of his wrath and abundant crops were proof of his favor.  Now we understand agriculture and meteorology in a more complex manner and we no longer need a God.  God has become what he always was: a figment of our imagination, much like Santa Clause or the Boogeyman.  The time has come for the rational man to open the closet door and admit that mother and father have been buying the presents the entire time.

Barclay: Growl… Bark! Bark! Bark!

Duncan: Quiet Barclay.  Quiet.  The good Doctor isn’t trying to offend your religious beliefs.  He’s just giving a blooming speech.

Galt: I’m sorry.  Is your… dog… religious?

Barclay: (nodding) Woof!  Woof!

Duncan: What Barclay?  Of course he’s religious!  I’ll have you know that dog is a bloody altar boy down at the Church of the Blessed Mother of Christ on a Bike.

Galt: I’m terribly sorry.  I did not mean to offend.

Duncan: Nah, don’t worry about it.  Barclay’s got a real thick skin.

Galt: And you sir?  Are you also Catholic?

Duncan: Of course not!  I’m a flaming Hare Krishna and all that bibbityboo.  I figure if it’s good enough for a Beatle, it’s good enough for me.

Galt: (still not believing his ears) Of course sir.  How could I not have seen it before?

Duncan: Guess you didn’t have your blooming eyes open now did you?  So, if I get this right, religion’s bunk because rationality’s tops, right?

Galt: Precisely sir.  According to my point of view, of course.

Duncan: Well, I don’t mean to offend sir, but that’s a load of hog swapping bullocks!

Barclay: Woof!

Galt: I beg your pardon?

Duncan: Well really, if the human mind is as fabulous as you say it is, how do you explain all the stupid gits out there?

Galt: (dumbfounded) How do I explain the gits?

Duncan: Absoflogginlutely.  Are you really saying that my brain is capable of defining reality as we all see it?

Barclay: Woof! (shaking head vigorously)

Galt: You’re mind? Well…

Duncan: Of course I can’t, but that’s what you’re saying.  The advancement of the human mind makes religion null and void because the human mind created God in the first place.  I’m saying that’s bullocks because the human brain is about as advanced as a looney jellyfish with a lobotomy.  I mean look at me.  I’m a human and I’m as daft as a duck.

Barclay: Bark! Bark! Bark! (jumps up and down) Bark! Woof! Bark!

Duncan: Exactly boy!  I couldn’t agree with you more.

Barclay: Bark! Woof! Bark! (turns in a circle)

Duncan: That’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all day.

Galt: I’m not sure I understand.  I don’t speak doggy.

Duncan: Barclay says he needs to take a piss.  I agree.  I drank way to much gin at the pub before picking you up.

Galt: Excuse me?  You’ve been drinking?

Duncan: Of course!  I never climb into this thing sober.  Bloody horses wouldn’t know what to do if I did.

Galt: How are you in any condition to drive then?

Duncan: That’s what I’m on about.  I’m not in any condition to drive because I’ve got to drain the old lizard.  A chap can’t concentrate when he’s distracted by Niagara Falls in his trousers.

Duncan pulls the carriage over and he and Barclay get out.  They face away from the audience and piss.

Galt: Oh my God.

Duncan: (zipping up his trousers) I heard that!  You were just praying!  Now how can you say you don’t believe in any God’s when you wanted one to save you just then?

Galt: Now that’s not what I meant at all sir.  It’s just an expression.  I didn’t really mean anything by it.

Barclay: Bark!

Duncan: Barclay’s absolutely right there, doctor.  You said it, I heard it and that’s good enough for me. (they climb back in the carriage and continue driving)

Galt: Now let’s get back to the point.  Just because you’re mad as a hatter doesn’t mean that the rational man cannot form a deeper understanding of life.  There is a difference between the intellectual and the average individual.

Duncan: Yeah, the difference is that when you say you’re smarter than me, I don’t argue.

Galt: Precisely.  See?  Even you can recognize your superiors.

Duncan:  No, I can’t be a good judge of who my superiors are because I think that anyone with nighttime bladder control is a god.  So I’ll try to follow your argument through to the end.  What you’re saying is that all us stupid gits who think tying our shoes is like solving a Rubik’s cube need to find someone smarter than us and believe exactly what they say?

Galt: Yes, to a certain extant.  The resulting world would be similar to the philosopher king in Plato’s Republic, if you’ll forgive the comparison to a work you’ve probably never read.

Duncan: Nah, don’t worry about it.  I used to eat Play Dough all the time!  But here’s the problem with this little world of yours.  What if all us dummies find the smartest bloke we can and then some other bloke proves him wrong?

Galt: I don’t see the problem.

Duncan: Let me put it this way: is Aristotle a genius or a flaming idiot?

Galt: I would consider him a genius.

Duncan: See that’s just it!  The silly wanker thought the sun revolved around the earth!  If that’s not a flaming idiot, then I don’t know what one is.

Galt: I beg your pardon sir!  You cannot hold that against Aristotle because he was relying on the best information available.

Duncan: And a fat lot of good that did him.  What about Karl Marx?

Galt: Marx was an outstanding philosopher who’s ideas were simply too great for the world.

Duncan: No, Marx was a git who’s ideas were poorly conceived and impractical in real life.

Galt: How on earth do you know all this?

Duncan: What about Aristotle and Marx?

Galt: Yes.

Duncan: Oh that’s easy.  There’s a book in the can of the Dancing Pony.  It don’t have too many pictures, but you find out some of the craziest things.

Galt: (shakes his head) I don’t believe this.

Duncan: Yeah and that’s why you fail.  Each and every one of your lot is just a stupid git, looney with his own ideas and just waiting to be exposed.

Galt: (clearly offended by this) And religion, which has been proven to be false more than any scientific philosophy, is somehow better than all this?

Duncan: Of course it is!  Just watch this.  (turning to Barclay) Hey!  Barclay!  The Virgin Mary’s a lying tart who couldn’t keep her knickers on and blamed it all on God.

Barclay: Growl…

Duncan: Well it’s true, old boy.  Don’t you think the Pope’s gotten a bit batty in his old age?  I do!  The ancient bugger can’t even remember his own name let alone pray on our behalf to any saints.

Barclay: Bark! Bark! Bark!

Duncan: You see doctor?  Scientists and philosophers are always being proved wrong and even a git like me can see that they’re wrong because they go on and tell everyone.  Preachers don’t admit they’re wrong.  You never hear some bishop telling his congregation that someone just proved that Immaculate Conception is impossible and that means they’ve all been praying to a whore all these years.

Barclay: Bark! (bites Duncan)

Duncan: Stop that you mangy mutt!  I was just making a rhetorical point.

Barclay: Growl… Bark! Bark! Bark!

Duncan: Alright, alright.  The Virgin Mary’s not a lying tart and the Pope’s not batty.  There!  Are you happy?

Barclay: Woof.

Galt: That’s lunacy!  Just because you don’t admit that you’re wrong doesn’t mean that you’re not wrong!

Duncan: Of course it does, you said it so yourself.

Galt: I did?

Duncan: Yeah, the rational mind determines reality.  We understand things and then they bloody pop into existence simply because we want them to.

Galt: That is not what I said at all!

Duncan: You better bet your sodding Aunt Fannie it is!  The human mind created God to explain things.  Now the human mind uses agriculture and meteorology to explain things.  So basically, humans got pissed off at God and made a new one. Only this one stinks like the can in the Prancing Pony because he can never agree what he’s saying.  The silly sap keeps changing his mind on us.

Galt: (losing control) No one is changing his mind!  We just understand life and the
universe better every day.

Duncan: All I heard was you saying, “Someday, someone is going to prove that I’m a
stupid git who can’t tell his arse from his elbows.”

Galt: (grabbing Duncan by the neck and throttling him) Alright fine!  I’m absolutely right and will never be wrong!  The sun revolves around the earth because Aristotle bloody well said it does!  Communism is bloody perfect because Marx is a genius who wouldn’t have conceived of it if it weren’t top shelf!

Duncan: (choking) Not to interrupt, but you might have just disproved Galileo back there.

Galt: Galileo’s right too!  The earth is round and revolves around the sun and it’s also flat while the sun revolves around it.  Do you know how this can possibly be true?

Duncan: (choking) No, not really.

Galt: It’s bloody true because I flaming said it’s bloody true and I’m never wrong! (releases Duncan, throws his hands into the air and begins cackling madly)  That’s right!  I am a genius!  I am the pinnacle of human civilization!  Science is power! The human mind is god!

Duncan: (clapping Galt on the back) That’s the spirit chap!  Never say die.  You’re right and anyone who says otherwise is a wanker.  Oh look!  There’s the conservatory.

They pull over.  Galt leaps from the carriage and runs ranting offstage.  Unbeknownst to anyone, Galt leaves his wallet behind.  Duncan and Barclay drive off.

Duncan: You know Barclay, I think the old chap convinced me during that last bit. Maybe there is no God after all.

Barclay: Woof! (nodding)

Duncan: You said it, chap!  Let’s be atheistic intellectuals from now on.  Then we’ll never be wrong.

Barclay: (picks up Galt’s wallet) Mwoof.

Duncan: What’s that you got there?  Looks like the doctor left us a tip.  (opens the wallet) Five hundred quid!  Not a bad start to the evening if I do say so myself.  Hey, isn’t that Sister Mary Carey from your church?

Barclay: Woof!

Duncan: Let’s go pick her up.  I bet she’d just love to hear that God is dead.