Tuesday 2 August 2011

The King James Diet

Brothers and sisters, I know you will have been wondering why I have been not with you so long - but a little while, and I am with you again! Wherefore, ye are asking yourselves, have I left you so long bereft - only to return?

It is true that I have been eschewing all that pertaineth to modern life. For I saw the evils of the Cathode Ray Tube - and its flat screen successor. I have heard the terrors of the Radio - which bringeth such smut even as I'm Sorry I haven't a Clue unto the heart of Man. And I said let us flee from the world - I shall take me unto my watchtower (but not Watchtower, which is an dreadful and heretical publication) and I shall see the modern world unravel, like unto the sleeve of Aaron when he catcheth the pomegranates of his ephod on the doorpost.

But Marjory, my dearly beloved, prevaileth upon me at least to eat the food of this modern and wicked generation. For if a man will not eat, he cannot work. And I waxed but thin on the potato peelings which we were left after Eileen's potato-cake raid upon my garden. And Marjory persuaded me that the most holy and wholesome food which I could eat - made without any whoring inventions of man - was the "Traditional Beaker Terrine" sold in the Beaker shop. And I knew that although it was claimed to be be a Beaker product, in fact it came from a butcher's in Brixworth, and Eileen gets her minions to switch the labels.

And it was just when I had given thanks, and had put some of the terrine on my toast, that my errors were revealed. For friends, I have been trying to keep my interest in building scale models of Japanese warships of the second world war from my Marjory - she believing that they lead unto the wide road of perdition. And so, halfway through my construction of the Takao, I had hidden it on the large stack of copies of the Redemption Hymnal that we keep in the dining room in case a revival breaks out over lunch. Marjory, filled with joy that I had chosen once again to eat what she referred to as normal food, snatched a copy from the stack to make a joyful noise unto the Lord, and great was the fall thereof. And my half-built warship crashed onto my plate, ruining my repast. It is as it says in the Good Book - "His mischief shall return upon his own head, and his violent dealing shall come down upon his own pate." (Psalm 7:16)

I had to confess to Marjory that I had erred and strayed from my ways like a lost sheep, and have agreed to rejoin - at least for the purposes of useful inventions, but not for its other sinful distractions - the 21st century. And in retrospect I was glad when I decided no longer to live on pre-modern foods, and when my deceitful sins were revealed. For I believe it was the stress and the diet that had led me to suffer much with the emerods.

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