Outposters, it has been a while. The Church of Last Movie Outpost has been quiet lately. The flock has deserted

It is Sunday, the Sabbath, the Lord’s Day, which is sent to punish us, as we cannot do anything good

It’s time to enter the booth for confession. It is a safe space, and a place where secrets are kept,

Related to sin is shame. That are like two grubby little bedfellows. And you know all about shame don’t you,

As the winds of winter give way to spring showers, your minds are no doubt turning towards summer. As we

Winter. A dark and cold time where, in your indoors-bound, cocooned state, you may feel temptation get the better of

‘Tis the Sabbath, and the only place you should be congregating is at the church of the Last Movie Outpost

The festive period once more recedes in our rearview mirror, and it is clear from both the mess and the

Pride, greed, probably slutiness, but the greatest sin is geekery! It lives adjacent to that one about worshipping graven images,

The summer of sin, with its alcohol-fueled barbecues and ladies in summer dresses, may be a distant memory now up