1. i was accosted by a pair of earnest American Mormons on the walk home from work last week. They insisted on following me halfway home, to instruct me. i couldn’t remember anything about Mormonism so when they offered to send me a copy of their scriptures, i gave them my work address, thinking i might learn something perverted. Later, i realised they probably wanted my home address so they could keep pestering me; if they try bothering me at work either Morgana or the grossly menacing Corporate Manager will mutilate them. Again later, i remember hearing that Mormons have harems; i should have said “do you guys get to have whores or what?”

The Mormons asked if i thought much about Jesus Christ. i said not really, meaning i do from time to time but as a literary figure, as a name for something, and as a human being. They asked if i still had unresolved questions about Christianity. i demurred, saying i’d spent years living with Christians, who repeatedly tried to convert me, and had run through all the available answers, without feeling it would lead anywhere. i was being diplomatic; i could have told them of the things i have seen, gods, other lives, messiahs, but then perhaps they would have tried to exorcise me, which is the last thing you want on a Wednesday evening.

The older i get the less i am interested in debate that leads nowhere; and to arrive at a useful disagreement one needs an unusually honest, profound interlocutor – otherwise one will merely clear up surface problems, tediously, leaving you tired and them angry (as you strip them bare). So better to just say “not really”.

2. i had some pizza last night, and left some for today’s breakfast. However, i left my door open while getting tea, and my hippy flatmate’s annoying dog ran in and ate the pizza. She reflects her owner’s casual attitude to property and propriety. i will have to take some hideous revenge, so later i will, i think, eat all her dog food.

3. i couldn’t sleep the other night, so mentally crafted an essay on why U2 were a great band, between 1984’s Unforgettable Fire, and 1997’s Pop. i find it curious that the band themselves seem to not entirely understand why they were good – so because Pop didn’t sell as much as intended, they turned their back on innovation and churned out three albums of generic, over-produced rock blandness, all the while trumpeting each as true rock & roll fuelled by anger and what not. As the Krugerand, a South African temp, said of ‘Vertigo’, it was bigged up as “garage” but had been so over-produced that it sounded like Westlife.  If i can be bothered, i’ll write the U2 essay, a condemnation of their present worthlessness, but for now i’ll say that between 1984 and 1997 they were – Rattle & Hum excepted – strange. Harold Bloom wrote that canonical literature has an inexhaustible strangeness to it, something uncanny even. ‘One Tree Hill’, ‘Bad’, ‘Acrobat’, ‘Dirty Day’ – strange songs. i tried to include ‘One Tree Hill’ via youtube, but i guess U2’s lawyers regularly scour youtube, so this is the best i could find – the collaboration between U2 and Johnny Cash, from Zooropa:

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