God, how embarrassing. Apparently I’m getting back my reputation as a depressive weblogger. Quick. Urgent. Think of something fun to write about.
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Is Christianity vanquished in the UK?
I haven’t believed in god for over fifteen years now.
I was thirteen when my little brother was born. My mother had come into the TV room and sat me down on the tan sofa and asked me how I’d feel about having a little brother or sister. I said that I didn’t want one. My mother looked slightly perturbed and said that I was going to have one anyway. I remember not being entirely thrilled by the news.
By the time my brother was born I was totally excited by the idea. My mother went into labour early in the morning and I was woken up by her smiling beatifically at the end of the bed ad patting her bulge and telling me to get ready. I couldn’t have been more excited. I got into my school uniform and we drove into Norwich, where we went and made sure my mother was comfortable. Then my father drove me into school and then, for some ungodly reason, went to work.
I remember talking to my friends about the new arrival during lunch break, standing on the doorsteps of Norwich Cathedral. But somehow, by the time school had ended, I’d completely forgotten about it. It was only the sight of a friend of my mother’s waiting to pick me up that reminded me. We went and bought a teddy bear for my little brother and drove to the hospital to see him.
Months later, he was to be Christened. I had never been Christened – my life had been so disorganised and random in my earlier years that no one had gotten around to it. It had become a badge of honour to me in some ways. Everyone I knew had been Christened – I was special, weird, a thirteen-year-old rationalist philosopher surrounded by superstition and madness. But despite taking pride in it, I’d never really thought about whether there actually was a god or not. When my mother said that she would like it if I got Christened along with my brother, I was forced to think about it for the first time. And I was horrified. I just didn’t believe it all. It seemed so ridiculous. Such a ludicrous proposition. It just didn’t make any sense. Nonetheless, bowing to parental pressure I went through with the ceremony, feeling awkward and hypocritical all the way through.
Yesterday the Archbishop of Westminster, Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, declared that Christianity was ‘almost vanquished in the UK’ [BBC News]. He said that people in Britain were now seemingly indifferent to Christian values and the Church. To me this can only be a positive sign. Whatever else might be lacking in people’s lives, they no longer feel that the mystical texts of another people half a world away and thousands of years old can patch up that hole. To me it seems like they’ve all been set free.
Tonight’s background is inspired by my soulful mood. There are times when you just feel blue and you know that you’d feel blue whatever happened, and you’re not blue because of anything in particular – or you don’t think you are at least – and it’s certainly not because you’re not with someone, but nonetheless you wish there was someone there to understand that you were blue, and to give you the space to be blue, and who loved you like you loved them – unconditionally.
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Flash web design moment of the day!
Ridiculous flashback web design moment of the day – a really old front page to a microsite long since defunct: polymath.
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Writing for the Time Out London guide…
In a subsequent work-related development, I have been commissioned to write the Gay section of the Time Out London Guide – which will be repurposed for both print and web. Any suggestions will be gratefully received.
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I have an interview for a job…
I have an interview for a job. After almost giving up all hope of anyone ever thinking I was employable again, I have an interview for a job next Tuesday. And it’s a job I’d actually like to have as well. Frankly I’m astonished. I was having lunch with Mo yesterday and complaining about how my life was a barren wasteland of missed opportunity, when I got a phone call asking me to come in for an interview. Mo insists that it was his influence on fate behind the scenes all along.
This leaves me with a few conundra nonetheless. Should I have a haircut? Need I buy a proper set of (non-suit) interview clothes? If so, where should I find the money for such an indulgence?
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Two Men on a Mailing List..
It wasn’t really meant for public consumption, but if you fancy a disturbing trip into psychosis, you can read Chris’s transcript of Two Men on a Mailing List. For a short time only.
Four potentially dangerous subjects for debate:
PARTY POLITICS:
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Which political party do you support and why? Do you think William Hague was an admirable man? Is Tony Blair a toadying, insincere sychophant? Labour are all spin aren’t they? Europe is the future or Europe is the enemy? People from ethnic minorities aren’t really British at all, right? Neil and Christine Hamilton – what’s that about?
A-LIST vs THE REST:
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Who ARE the A-list bloggers? Are there A-list English Bloggers? Should
everyone else kneel down and kiss my arse? Who do you losers think you are
anyway? Coming around here and fouling up my goddam internet with your
whining… Is it like WWF? Do we get names? ‘THE PLASTIC POUNDER’, ‘THE
IRRITABLE INTERCONNNECTED ONE’, ‘DIGITALSTOMPERY’.
ABORTION:
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Are foetuses little kiddies when they’re two cells old? Or should the
parent’s right of abortion be extended until the child reaches the age of
seventy-eight?
GREYMATTER vs BLOGGER vs BENBROWN vs MOTHRA:
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Is Blogger a shiny piece of heaven fallen to earth? Or is it crap arseness?
Are we not REAL MEN unless we are building our OWN content management
systems? Is off-the-shelf too lowbrow for us? Does Ben Brown suckle on
Mammon’s ungodly teat? How about Ev? How about YOU?!
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Silver plating on a cheap spoon…
I woke up this morning with the windows and curtains open and light streaming into my bedroom and I felt completely elated and comfortable. An hour later I’d been thinking about friends and their careers and how I feel at the moment – essentially redundant, under-utilised, continually tired, like the edge and fire have been slowly rubbed away like silver plating on a cheap spoon. I don’t want to go and see my friends – I don’t really want to go outside – and I’m getting less able to smile with people who are getting on with their lives.
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Time Out's brand positioning…
My darling old company is having a spring clean, 33 years after it was launched. Time Out has called in Wolff Olins to look at the magazine’s brand positioning and to see how to reenergise the flagging publication. I only worked there for two years but I have fairly strong opinions about where it’s been going wrong. I’d be interested to see how they match up with what’s going to be happening…