"And how's destiny?"
I missed the answer. While I suspect it was probably regarding an (unfortunately-named) child, I have visions of a *really* deep conversation about the questioned person's journey through life.
Monday, 30 March 2009
Monday, 9 March 2009
Shopping really is the new religion
I looked out of the window yesterday morning around 9.15 to blue skies and lots of sunshine. Right, I thought, a nice stroll round the locality and over to the park would be a great start to a Sunday.
Fine.
Until I got to the park and the blue skies almost magically disappeared, leaving me with grey miserable skies and a hefty wind. Ah well, I thought, a stroll will still do me good.
And a stroll I had, but quite a brisk one, leading me to decide to pop into the local shopping centre (our town centre was ripped out mercilessly years back). It's bound to be quiet at 10 when it opens, I thought, the sound of the local church bells ringing in my ears.
Imagine my surprise when arriving at one side door at 10 to see a queue of people patiently waiting for the door to open. On a whim, I walked round the side to see a slightly bigger, patient group.
Odd. Still, I thought I'll wander round through the car park to the main entrance. And oh yes, a veritable throng. All waiting to worship at the altar of consumerism - although a lesser altar than the cathedral to consumerism that is the Trafford Centre a few miles away. I'm not judging, by the way, I ended up as part of the patient throng.
I didn't worship though. Well, just a little. And threw a few curses at WHSmiths for only opening from 11-3.
Fine.
Until I got to the park and the blue skies almost magically disappeared, leaving me with grey miserable skies and a hefty wind. Ah well, I thought, a stroll will still do me good.
And a stroll I had, but quite a brisk one, leading me to decide to pop into the local shopping centre (our town centre was ripped out mercilessly years back). It's bound to be quiet at 10 when it opens, I thought, the sound of the local church bells ringing in my ears.
Imagine my surprise when arriving at one side door at 10 to see a queue of people patiently waiting for the door to open. On a whim, I walked round the side to see a slightly bigger, patient group.
Odd. Still, I thought I'll wander round through the car park to the main entrance. And oh yes, a veritable throng. All waiting to worship at the altar of consumerism - although a lesser altar than the cathedral to consumerism that is the Trafford Centre a few miles away. I'm not judging, by the way, I ended up as part of the patient throng.
I didn't worship though. Well, just a little. And threw a few curses at WHSmiths for only opening from 11-3.
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