Chesterton was right
In leafy, arty, upper-crust Hampstead, north London, there came a healer.
Marianne Nicholls was well-spoken, well-groomed and evidently well-to-do. But beneath the polished exterior of Gucci handbags and BMW convertibles, the woman who claimed to be a daughter of high court judges had a secret. It was one which she would reveal after entering into the confidences of local residents who were down on their luck: Marianne was a shaman.
One people stop believing in God they don’t believe in nothing but in anything.
Who better to scam than those who believe in idiocies like socialism and government?
She could tell if your spirit was dark and sad. She could divine if you were going to get cancer. And she could save lives via a trip to the healing waters of Suriname in South America.
Occasionally, she would take her new friends there herself. But, actually, all that needed to travel was an envelope of cash. The monetary sacrifice, posted to her fellow healer “Papa Freddie”, would prove your commitment to the spirits who had the power to cure. Papa and other colleagues she referred to as “the indigenous” would hang the offering on a sacred tree in the jungle in order to restore your shattered spirit. Best of all, once the healing was complete, the envelope would be returned unopened.
Ho, right. But works on the sort of people who believe in Net Zero etc…..


