So back again to Walker to carry on doing the job that I was supposed to be doing, the snow melting and soon to be forgotten (perhaps occasional white lumps that were once snowmen – a depressing moral lesson there as well, I think).
I would have gone to the Shinay at Samye Dzong (they’re back from Scotland, where they spend their Christmas holidays, or not Christmas but you know. I imagined them exchanging socks, but they probably just meditate a lot, which is a good thing) but don’t, instead turning to the Great Western Religion (that is to say television).
I also check out the special features on The Mummy Returns. I know that the film will not have been on the lips of The Academy come Oscar time, but do not care. One IMDB review tags it as unpretentious fun and I think that’s about right. The director points out that he knew perfectly well that the representation of London was geographically unsound, but says that it is, after all, a Mummy movie. Misplacing St Pauls is small beer compared to walking, talking, snogging corpses.
Television accords one perfectly with the opportunity to spend too much time doing virtually nothing.