Up in a relaxed fashion, slow breakfast, the usual. We have a PuddleParty today which is the traditional beer'n'bombs associated with the demise of Mr Guido Fawkes all those years ago, in fact I hardly remember him. This is why there was a 5 litre keg of beer, 22 rockets and 18 shot tubes (also known as Roman candles, although I call them spark fountains) by the front door.
Acting was mixed. While us chaps had a great time playing hide and seek, my performance may not have been optimal because I hadn't learned my lines. This is because the actual live performance seems so far away (less than 3 weeks) that it's practically someone else's problem and besides, I've got Minecraft videos to watch, and Klans to Klash against.
My role in the Festival of Christmas is part of the 'Street Entertainers' group: a many years ago, the town had its own real-life entertainers: here is an old article from 20 years ago.
Little-known settlement Portsmouth is the prime site for mentally-challenged artistes of this category; although it has its fair share of mumblers, shouters, sneezers etc, it specializes in voluntary traffic directors. These colourful characters staff the convoluted highways and byways of downtown Pompey. Loitering on street corners and roundabouts, they provide a quality service of arm-waving and gesticulating (based on the actions of actual traffic policemen) that can all too easily bring free-flowing traffic to a grinding halt, at which point they spring into action and target the trapped motorists. Several directors operate in the city; they assign themselves their own junction and man it rain or shine. The ultimate expression of self-belief was seen in 1994 when two rival directors fought for control of the Lake Road roundabout in a vicious turf war.
Some are evangelists. They stand by the bus station and at least hold out their leaflets, in the vain hope that somebody will want one.
Some are the Creation Science Movement, and they sit in a US-funded dinosaur museum opposite the same bus station and hope you'll be convinced by their hilarious displays.
But my favourite are the shouters, particularly the short angry one who stands in the town centre and berates you for not having already realized that the jesus prophecy will save the shining angels in a revelation of holiness and whatever. Today he was handing out free DVDs so we just had to have one.
This edited-for-believers treatise on evolution and how it's all wrong really and you should just believe in one of the gods we've made up was produced by American televangelist Ray Comfort, whose outstanding proof that god exists because of the way a banana (the atheists' nightmare) is shaped has to be seen to be, er, believed. But for now, here is an excerpt of his argument.
Now if you study a banana, you’ll find on the far side there are three ridges; on the close side, two ridges. If you get your hand ready to grip a banana, you’ll find on the far side, there are three grooves; on the close side, two grooves. The banana and the hand are perfectly made, one for the other. You’ll find the maker of the banana – Almighty God – has made it with a non-slip surface. It has outward indicators of inward contents: green, too early; yellow, just right; black, too late. Now if you go to the top of a banana, you’ll find – as with the soda can makers, who’ve placed a tab at the top – so God has placed a tab at the top. When you pull the tab, the contents don’t squirt in your face. It’s just the right shape for the human mouth. It’s even curved towards the face to make the whole process so much easier!
Even later, us kids had an excellent party at Ben's place and the adults stayed out of the way and talked rubbish and we had light sabre fights outside with fireworks and played hide and seek and X-box and Jof drove us home.