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Atheist Advent Sabbath

December 6, 2010

Tomorrow is the seventh day; Atheist Advent’s Sabbath. We’re celebrating with a cover of a very special song by my once-favourite band from the 1970s; filmed in its natural location, on the toilet.

I walked along the canal on my way back home this evening; all the river’s birds were congregated in the last remaining patch of unfrozen water, crying disconsolately and flocking under the bank where I was standing. I went over the road to Morrison’s, looking for bird seed. But bird seed was not what they wanted; the supermarket didn’t sell it. What it did sell was dried worms and slabs of beef fat. This is what birds want, apparently. So I spent 15 minutes trying to get the broken up bits of fat to the hungry birds in the water.

It must be -10. I thought the swans had died; but they were tucked up in their own feathers. At what stage will the birds freeze in their funky flight?

I’ve done six songs and those are the songs I’ve done; there’s nothing more to say about it. Meanwhile, world-shaking events pile themselves one upon another; as if crags were shedding chunks of stone which, in descending, gather ever more massive broken slabs among them. Where it will end, and how it will be judged, is of course unknown.

The ice factor has moved. Picture of a sign taken in York the other day.

 

 

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