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The Preacher Man of Brixton
So I live in Brixton (SW London for the peeps outside of the Big Smoke) and every morning for as long as I have lived here, outside Brixton tube station in the mornings is The Preacher Man.

You know the type; semi-homeless, nothing better to do than wear a speaker around his neck and bark old (and sometimes new!) Testament drivel into a microphone which gets amplified up and down Brixton High Street.

Some say on cold mornings you can hear it as far up as the Ritzy!

Anyways, one raining wintery morning mid January I am plodding into the tube with hundreds of other Brixtonites on my way to work, vaguely in the background I hear the warblings of the Preacher Man "Let Jesus into your life - he is the ONLY way to salva....FFFUCK!!!", my ears prick up - did I actual hear the Preacher Man utter an obscenity?! I spin round and to my surprise (and great satisfaction) he is completely soaked from where the 109 bus has hit a puddle and sprayed him with a fuck-load of rain water! And this is how I know there is no God, well - no Christian God at least.

Sometimes I like to stand outside the tube station pretending to read a paper and watch him whilst listening to Nine Inch Nails' "Heresy", the lyrics go "God is dead and no-one cares, If there is a hell I'll see you there!" and pretend that he's singing!

I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I'm going to hell.
(Sat 21st Mar 2009, 13:08, More)