Duck Egg Blue

'Lo

So this is my first entry written in my new house. The BT man arrived yesterday at 7:30 am with two (count 'em) modems so I am now connected again. Lovely. The computer chair is comfy and I am in easy reach of the fridge for carrots sticks and houmous. I could get used to this.

In fact, it is now possible for me to never leave the house again. I can use the internet to order food from Asda and my digital TV to order pizza from Domino's. They are now selling a World Cup special edition pizza (plugged with every ad break in The Simpsons on Sky) with special meatballs that look a bit like footballs. I do not find myslef drawn to it. No part of any animal is that spherical, at least, no part you'd want on a pizza. It looks like a meaty Simnel cake.

Still, I have been out today. Town heaves with shoppers and at least four seperate evangelical choirs outside each door to each shopping centre singing about how much Jesus loves us. I know he does, he sent me a letter. It's true. It came care of the Unifcation Church of Woodgate, Anstey, but I know it was from the big man himself. He seemed very upset at how I was not letting him into my life. He said he made a beautiful rainbow but I was too busy to notice, and lo, he wept for me. Hey, don't try so hard, mate. Just come to the pub and we'll see how we get along. The last rainbow I saw was over the motorway I was driving on so don't take it personally. I was busy.

I am unreligious, myself. I was raised nominally in the Church of England which no greater thinker than Nick Cave describes as the "instant coffee of religion". This is true. We do not so much lose our faith as leave it somewhere. Most C of E dogma is based on lemon curd and Victoria sponge. But those who are stronger in the Lord have made it their business to approach me several times today. First came the letter from Jesus, then a copy of Good News carrying the immortal headline "Radar From M*A*S*H Finds Happiness In God", the Jehova's Witnesses next and finally a pair of pale young men with name badges in slip on shoes from the Mormons this afternoon outside Caffe Nero. I'd forgotten that bit of living in a city. That and the infinate numbers of leaflets for delivery pizza.

Went to see X-Men 3. It's OK, but hardly Citizen Kane. It's clearly been subject to a heavy edit and several characters are either killed off almost immediately or simply don't appear at all. Plus Anna Paquin was in it for all of five minutes. Scandalous. Still, everyone was impressed by the blue woman, whatsername, turning into a human with no clothes on. It was bady written, unimaginatively directed and very very noisy. Typical Summer blovkbuster, really. It will do its job, i.e. make Marvel many many millions of dollars and sell millions more DVDs and Happy Meals.

I was so enthused about the cinema at the beginning of the year. We had Brokeback Mountain, Jarhead, Walk The Line, The Constant Gardener, all good films. Now it's all about the explosions. Boom. I mean, they've even resorted to a remake of The Posiedon Adventure which I mainly remember for the only time I have ever seen Leslie Nielsen in a serious role. As far as I remember, he is the captain of the SS Poseidon. "It's a bit windy," says his first officer. "Yes," says Leslie. Then a wave sweeps across the bath where the model boat is being filmed, everything turns upside down, Gene Hackman takes over and I watched something else.

A bit depressing, but it was that or The Da Vinci Code. Some choice. It's like an old joke I heard about Irish politics - What's the difference between Fianna Fail and Fine Gael? Well, that's the difference between shit and shite. I am personally waiting for the release of The Constable Code, where Tom Hanks has to find God's email address from codes hidden in restful watecolours of hayricks and windmills.

Good Night, and Good Luck
Dougal