Andrew asks what blog posts have been later regretted. I’m struggling to remember, but I think there have been one or two over the years that I’ve edited, deleted, or not quite posted, after realising how cranky or stupid I sounded.
Maybe I’ll regret this post. For I have a deep dark secret.
I’m reading a Dan Brown novel. Demons and Angels. A colleague lent it to me, and while I’m the first to rant about Dan Brown’s popularist theological babble, the fact that his books were in the top ten list for a whole damn year, and that at one stage it seemed like every second person on the train was reading the Da Vinci Code, I haven’t yet thought up a good way of weaseling out and not reading it.
The main problem of course is: what if someone I know on the train spots me reading it? Solution: only read in public when sitting down, so the cover can be held out of view.
First impressions: the writing is thoroughly unchallenging; it’s like reading one of those old kids’ Choose Your Own Adventure books. It spells out everything and leaves nothing to the imagination. I’ve become used to having to think about what I read — not so with this.
The plot is mildly interesting. For now, surreptiously, I’ll keep at it.