I’ve been to the Taboo nightclub once. No, wait, it was twice. Or was it three times? I don’t much like nightclubs. I don’t like shouting at the person next to me just to be heard, although that seems to be the way of things these days. Shouting at others has never been easier. Finding reasons to have a hissy fit and to cause pain is painless. Click, read, twist and shout, wait for the mob to follow. Wait for a “Matthias, son of Deuteronomy of Gath” to say: “Look. I’d had a lovely supper, and all I said to my wife was: ‘That piece of halibut was good enough for Jehovah’.” Buy some stones, two with points and one big flat one, and wait until the man in charge of the stoning for blasphemy says “Jehovah” again before you put him to death. There are many life lessons in the Life of Brian by Monty Python. So, just say no to shouting at each other, sports fans. It’s not nearly as much fun as you make it out to be. Instead of shouting and ranting today, I’m going to go on a ramble of memor...

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