"You don't crucify people! Not on Good Friday!"

Casino Manager: It was a good night. Nothing unusual.
Harold: "Nothing unusual," he says! Eric's been blown to smithereens, Colin's been carved up, and I've got a bomb in me casino, and you say nothing unusual?

Those of you not of a religious bent but wanting to watch something seasonal on DVD (and therefore avoid all images of Charlton Heston or Robert Powell) I suggest The Long Good Friday. You can't beat a good gangster flick to block out the great whooshing sound of millions of the credulous condeming us to another year in the thrall of susperstition.

For those of you with more knee bending, palm clasping sensibilities, I humbly reproduce the following prophesy:

"There shall in that time be rumors of things going astray, erm, and there shall be a great confusion as to where things really are, and nobody will really know where lieth those little things with the sort of raffia-work base, that has an attachment. At that time, a friend shall lose his friend's hammer, and the young shall not know where lieth the things possessed by their fathers that their fathers put there only just the night before, about eight O'clock."