On a few occasions now, I have ventured to Blogging Theology to discuss an oft-repeated topic – democracy. Incidently, these discussions have served as the basis for this page, which is a series of articles exploring the merits of democracy vs other forms of government.

The author of articles such as this one decries democracy as a form of tyranny, even though democracies do not tend to be anywhere as near restrictive of people’s rights and freedoms as other forms of government are. If you live in the communist regimes of China or North Korea, you are heavily restricted on the form of criticism you can make against the government (assuming you can do so at all), you cannot get information from or about the world beyond your borders without it being heavily filtered, and any rights you have are entirely down to the whim of rulers who have more in common with monarches of old than the elected officials of democratic countries.

Theocracies don’t provide the same measure of freedom for their people either. As you will see by my discussion on Blogging Theology, and my own page, they too are highly dependent upon the whim of whomever is heading up the ruling authority, and laws drawn up from religious texts are open to much interpretation (as are the texts themselves). Ruling from a theocentric position won’t work either – it is still a matter of determining which interpretation of which religion is followed, and as such, a consensus is nigh impossible.

The latest anti-democracy post from Blogging Theology is actually quoting another article, found here. I will make reference to one particular line that comes directly from BT, but I shall address that in due course. Meanwhile, let’s take a look at the Salisbury Review’s article:

In a tricky question such as this, it’s good idea to begin by getting the terms of reference clear. There are two such terms in particular: “Christianity” and “democracy.” What, specifically, does Christianity have to say? From its beginning, Christianity has consistently proclaimed belief in one God, maker of heaven and earth and in God’s Son, the Lord Jesus Christ who died and rose again to save us from our sins. I hope you will agree that that’s a fair summary of Christianity’s basic teaching. Christian authorities do not add the word “probably” to the content of their religious profession. In fact these authorities have stated the content of faith in what we call the Athanasian Creed and, having so stated it, they go on to caution: “Which faith except everyone do keep whole and undefiled: without doubt he shall perish everlastingly.”

I notice that word “everyone.” The truth of the Christian faith is not then the preserve of those who attend the Catholic church across the road, the Methodist chapel or any one of the tin tabernacles belonging to the numerous Non-conforming sects. The Creed is plain – one might almost say to the point of sounding disrespectful. The Christian faith is a statement about the nature and destiny of everyone. It concerns the relationship between God and all humankind. Moreover, it is not a teaching that was very true in the 5th century, a bit less true in the 16th; still less is it something which all the best people today take with a pinch of salt, a nudge and a wink in these enlightened times.

Now, what happens when a Christian states his faith to a believer in democracy? The democrat, being one of the best people, will reply, politely: “So you say. You are free to believe that if you like, but others are free to hold quite different opinions and even to deny the truth of Christianity. Our democratic society contains many such people and we are proud of this fact as evidence of a wholesome diversity.”

There’s nothing that, to my mind, is immediately disagreeable about the first few paragraphs of the article. However, when we look at the next couple…

Thus from the democrat’s point of view, Christianity is quite compatible with the democratic principle, “Everyone has a right to his own opinions.” But that’s not quite what Christianity says. Indeed, it does agree with the democrat that we all have the right to hold such opinions as we fancy; but it goes on to say – with the sort of indelicacy frowned on by all the best people – that, if you hold the wrong opinions, you will perish everlastingly. So, from the Christian perspective, the faith is not compatible with democracy.

Christianity robustly, uncompromisingly, speaks of the truth. Democracy has no concept of truth. For the democrat, there is no such thing as objective truth; there is only the infinite variety of subjective “truths” – your truth, my truth, the believer’s truth, the atheist’s truth; pick where you like in the supermarket of opinions. Which just means that the democrat denudes the word “truth” of all meaning. Most certainly then, from the Christian’s perspective, his faith is not compatible with democracy.

… we see where the article is leaning. Christianity is objective truth and democracy isn’t – which creates an interesting compatibility question with what is said on Blogging Theology. If Christianity is objective truth, and Islam is objective truth, and Judaism, and all the other religions all happen to be objective truth… well, they can’t all be now can they? So what’s the fairest and most reasonable means for settling which religion forms the basis of laws and rules? Answer – none of them.

Back to the article itself. It affirms Christianity as objective truth and democracy as subjective. The misnomer here is that democracy itself isn’t a religion – the individual beliefs of people who believe in democracy will differ greatly, and in that number will include atheists, agnostics, Christians, Muslims, Jews, gays, transgender individuals, and well, pretty much everyone. To each and every one of these groups, their individual and collective experiences are unique. In that sense, their idea of the ‘truth’ will be different. Who am I to say to any of them ‘you are wrong, and must live your life in accordance to my belief system’?

But there’s more to be said. The Archbishop spoke of “freedom and democracy,” as if these two went together like fish and chips. All the best people would agree with him. But these two concepts don’t go together. You can have democracy or you can have freedom, but you can’t have both. The democracy which we inhabit is actually a tyranny – certainly to the practising Christian. Our democracy will allow the Christian to practise his faith only until this faith comes into intellectual conflict with the nostrums of secular society. The Christian is free to go to matins or to put on a jumble sale to raise funds for the church roof. But let the Christian, judging by the lights his faith provides him, declare publicly that there can be no such thing as homosexual marriage and he may well find that, under the supposed benignity of “democracy and freedom,” he is punished by the courts or loses his job.

Let’s flip this around. In parts of the USA right now, a push toward the religious right means in some states you can be denied jobs or fired from jobs if you are homosexual. You can be refused service in places of business under the guise of religious freedom. In Uganda, where Christianity is used as the basis of law, being homosexual can land you in prison. Discrimination against the LGBT community is often backed up with the argument of ‘religious freedom’, and damn the rights of the LGBT community. When someone uses their faith as an excuse to try and deny others their rights, that’s wrong, and thankfully, in countries like the UK, we have laws to prevent this.

Sometimes, I manage to embarass myself through saying or doing something really stupid. Tonight, I managed to do this by not noticing something.

What did I not notice? My wife and daughter, even though I had walked right past them on the way home from work.

How did I manage this remarkable feat? Well, in my defence, I present the following evidence:

  1. It was dark. I also had my hood up and so my vision was obscured.
  2. I had my headphones in and was very focused on my power walk, so I didn’t hear my wife calling me.

Nonetheless, this remarkable gaffe is one I managed to compound. My wife got my attention by phoning me, upon which I immediately turned around. I had been aware of a woman walking with their child (just not that they were my wife and child), but for some reason, in the periphary of my vision, I thought they were Chinese. I don’t know why. Upon mentioning this, the ribbing has been merciless. I don’t think I shall ever live this one down.

It hasn’t taken long for Donald Trump to start pissing people off. Whether your cause is womens’ rights, climate change, LGBT rights, or whether your cause relates to Islam or Mexico, Trump has been putting the hammer down.

It all began with the inauguration. On only his second day, Trump was attacking the media, sending out his attack dog, Sean Spicer (remember the name) to decry the reports that Trump’s inauguration was considerably under-attended, when compared to Obama’s in 2009. This despite pictures of the ceremony, and information from transport authorities in Washington D.C.

Spicer’s remarks gave way to the term ‘alternative facts’, coined by Kellyanne Conway on his third day. Needless to say, Twitter has had a field day with this phrase, which is really another term for lying.

I’m not impressed so far…

On day four, Trump signed a ban US money going to overseas groups which perform or provide advice on abortions. This assault on the reproductive rights of women was signed off by a man, surrounded by several other men, with not a single woman present. On day five, he announced his government would press ahead with the Standing Rock oil pipeline, despite the disruption and harm this will cause to thousands of native Americans living in its path.


Is it clear to people yet? This man is not fit to lead a country, least of all one with so much power

On day six, Trump announced he thought torture was a reasonable means of extracting information, including waterboarding, and he also stated he plans to press ahead with plans to build a wall on the US border with Mexico. Continuing his theme of exclusion, Trump also revealed his plans to block immigration from certain Muslim countries.

Today, he’s criticised Mexico after the country’s president cancelled a meeting with him, following Trump’s insistence that Mexico pay for this wall.

This is just the tip of the iceberg, and this is after just one week. What else do Trump and his cabinet have in store for us? What is next for the world?

The latest installment of the Marvel Cinematic Universe takes us beyond the realm of our reality and twists the very fabric of matter and space – but is it any good?

Firstly, we must address the elephant in the room. Take nothing away from Tilda Swinton in her role as The Ancient One, but there has been understandable concern that her portraying a traditionally Asian character represents white-washing that particular role. Marvel are on record as saying they wanted to avoid Asian stereotypes, but they have also acknowledged the reaction from fans. It remains to be seen how they will handle similar issues in the future.

That aside, there are one or two glaring faults with the film that I wish to address right away – well, ok, one glaring fault – Benedict Cumberbatch’s American accent. No one can doubt his prowess as an actor – not only is he universally acclaimed for his portray of Sherlock Holmes, but he was also nominated for (among other awards) an Oscar for his role of tortured code cracker Alan Turing, and has received numerous other nominations and awards during his career. He is unlikely to receive any such nominations for his performance here, even though his performance isn’t bad per se. Maybe I am just being nitpicky, but his American accent wasn’t great, and felt very forced. Part of me wondered during the film if it would have been better for the character of Stephen Strange to be British this time around, in order to spare us the bad accent.

That said, the film, overall, works, though it feels a little flat. There isn’t really any moment that feels tense or dramatic (a growing theme with MCU films, as you know well in advance there will be a sequel or ensemble movie), but as is normal with these films, they are polished productions and the SFX is flawless. All in all though, Strange’s journey from high-flier, to desperate loner, to student, to master, all feels a little rushed. There might have been scope for this story to be broken down into two movies, but the demands of the MCU are such that they are rapidly gearing up for Infinity Wars, and unfortunately this doesn’t allow time for characters to develop in a more organic fashion.

It’s watchable. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad film. Nor is it a great one. It is distinctly middle-of-the-road for me, and its main worth lies in that it continues to expand the MCU and build out their universe, rather than standing on its own merits. 7/10.


I invite you to delve into the utterly stupid misogyny that IMDB unfortunately provides a safe haven for. Ages ago (when the first trailer for Rogue One came out) I wrote of how the film would be a misogynist’s nightmare, and with this sort of reaction, I have been proved right. The poster believes women should not be portrayed as strong warriors. One wonders what he would make of real historical figures such as Joan of Arc and Mulan…

As was pointed out in the thread, we have women serving in the armed forces, on the front lines no less. Women serve in police forces, placing themselves in danger alongside their male colleagues. What kind of backward thinking and desperate ignorance gives rise to the sort of moronic posting such as the one linked to!

Under cover of darkness the taxi sped down the A12, heading further and further into the edges of London. It wasn’t the route Eric had desired to take, but as he did his best to ‘drive casual’, all he could think about was that he was driving a car every camera, every police car in the area would soon be looking for. He had to get off the road, and do it sooner rather than later. It was stupid, stupid to take the taxi…

Darkness was now enveloping everywhere, but the lights of the road and street meant he had to find somewhere secluded. Seeing a turning ahead, with lines of trees either side, Eric took his chance and turned left. From there, he was disappointed to realise that the bank of trees was not very deep – so he had little choice but to keep going.

Nothing but fields shot by, aside from one or two shops and homes. In the distance there were lights, which meant he was heading toward built-up areas, exactly what he didn’t need. A small roundabout was ahead – Eric turned right, looking for salvation in the form of a quiet, secluded area. His luck turned at last when he saw a small side road, not well lit, and a small forested area. The taxi rumbled over the dirt road, and Eric turned off the lights. No one appeared to question why he was pulling in – across the other side of the main road was a crematorium, which appeared to be empty, and to his right, a small car park, for what appeared to be a cycling centre. Three other cars were parked up – perfect.

Eric stopped, and scooped the gun out of the glove box. For a moment or two he stopped to consider his next move. His would-be assassin had not attempted to cause him any grief – yet – but that might change if he got sloppy. First things first, get information.

Eric had to spend a couple of minutes wrestling with the boot where he’d broken it. Once it popped open he stepped back quickly, keeping the gun trained on his attacker. Ice-cold blue eyes glared up at him, but looked slightly groggy; the balaclava was looking damp where blood was soaking into it.


The man curled his top lip up, sneering. “If I say no?”

“Then you get caught, arrested for a double-murder, and the police pry into your business.

“You think I am concerned?” For the first time, Eric noticed an accent. Scandinavian.

“I think your employers will be, and they might not be best pleased with how incompetent you are. Move.”

Reluctantly the man started to walk, with Eric keeping the gun tucked in by his side, in case anyone was watching. The two of them moved slowly into the woods, and at Eric’s urging, headed further and further in.

“Stop here. Take that off.” Eric gestured with the gun when the man had turned around, his back against a tree. Wordlessly the man slipped the balaclava off, tossing it away.

Blond hair had been ruffled from being stuffed under the balaclava. The man had a somewhat thin face too, as though slightly malnourished. The high cheek bones were a little unsettling. Around the broken nose the skin had started to turn a painful shade of purple, and blood was still dripping both from the nose, and a small gash on his forehead. The eyes held nothing. Pursed lips gave away no trace of emotion.

“Who are you?”

“Go to hell.” But the voice carried a trace of amusement.

Eric took a breath, then in one smooth motion stepped forward and smashed the hilt of the gun against the man’s left temple. A swift kick to the stomach followed. The man grunted in pain and knelt on the ground, struggling to right himself. Another kick followed, to the ribcage, sending him sprawling to the earth beneath him.

“No games. Who are you?”

“I… I… will not be broken…”

“Oh yes you will. This isn’t my first dance.” A sharp kick to the man’s left knee came with a satisfying and audible crack. A sharp gasp of shock and pain escaped the man’s lips. Before he could respond, Eric had him by the scruff of his jacket, and with a deft thump to the ribcage, honed by years of experience of hurting other human beings, Eric was rewarded with the sound of a crack. The man lay on the ground, bleeding from both his nose and the fresh wound on his temple, and he stared up at Eric with a mixture of fury and fear.

“You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into old man!” He shouted, his voice hot with anger and defiance. “My associates will kill everyone you love!”

“But before that, they’ll start with you. Empty your pockets, all of them, now.” Eric cocked the gun.

The man hastily turned out everything, not that there was much. There was no driver’s licence or other form of ID, no keys, nothing except a smartphone.

“Chuck that over here.” The man did as he was told, and Eric scooped up the device.

Part of him immediately felt stupid. It was switched on, which meant it was probably tracking his whereabouts. Unsurprisingly the home screen was locked, with a four-digit code.

“What’s the code?” Eric asked.

“No chance.” Replied the man, though he coughed and groaned in pain as he did.

Eric was sorely tempted to shoot him, as he was running out of patience and very likely time as well, but he was sure he could still somehow use his would-be assassin. With the gun pointed straight at the man’s head, he stepped forward and slammed his foot down upon the man’s right ankle. This brought about a satisfying yelp of pain, and for good measure, Eric stamped on his left ankle too.

“The code.” He intoned.

“Fuck you.”

“Wrong answer.” Eric brought the heel of the gun down on the man’s right knee – there was no crack this time, but he knew it would have to hurt. “You should know something, and you probably already do know it, but it escaped your mind – I am ex-SAS. I know what it means to be hurt, and how to hurt people. I can keep this up for as long as I need to.”

“If I unlock that phone I am a dead man.”

“If you don’t you’re a dead man, only difference is I’ll prolong it. Your choice.”

Silence reigned. Eric didn’t care for that, so he kicked the man. “Time’s up, you die here, now, in agony, or you have a shot at living. What will it be?”

For a moment the man hesitated, but looking into Eric’s steel resolve, he made his decision. “7822. That will unlock it.”

Without taking his eyes off the man, Eric tapped in the code, and sure enough, the phone unlocked.

“Thank you.” Without another word Eric shot the man, squarely in the forehead.

Chapter 6

Back to Techno Fail

So. It has begun. The Orange Scourge rises. Donald Trump, the man with less votes than the woman who lost, has become President of the United States.

And an all-seeing eye, breathed in flame, took up residence in the White House, and did throw a tantrum every time he was mentioned on Twitter. #DarkLordTrump 

So what’s in store for Sauron’s Trump’s presidency? If you foolishly think healthcare is a right, and not determined by how much money you earn, you might be in for a wee bit of a shock very soon. If you thought Mexico were paying for some masonry work, guess again. Hillary being arrested? Not gonna happen.

What is likely to happen? America’s new Dark Lord might raise an army of orcs. He might decide to go all ‘Harry Potter’ and raise an army of Death Eaters. Or he might do a crossover and raise an army of orc eaters. I’m sorry, I am really struggling for inspiration for this post. Here’s a picture of a cat instead:


That cat there? She was Trinity. She was the most loving, affectionate and friendly cat anyone could wish for, and I’d much rather think about her good spirit, rather than the spiteful spirit that’s just taken up residence in the White House. If you presented a lap to her, she would jump on it without hesitation. Sometimes, she’d do exactly that, even if you didn’t want a cat on your lap.

But be warned. You couldn’t leave prawns unguarded in her presence. You didn’t dare leave chocolate unguarded either (yes, she had been known to lick chocolate). When she was hungry, she was not shy of telling you.

She was also the boss. When we got a young buck, Castiel, he thought he could exert some  form of authority on our old lady. Not. A. Chance. Trinity didn’t settle for that, and made sure Castiel knew it. A bat across the nose, a swipe at the face, and a complete and thorough disdain for existence, in the manner only cats can manage – Trinity delivered the full package of contempt for this new arrival. Truly, a queen among cats.

So today, look to your pets. Look to your friends. Look to your significant other, your children, and your family. Look to all that is good, and kind, and unite in that spirit. Unite against the new occupant of the White House and his ilk. You are many, and you will make a difference.

Ok, enough being inspiring. Let us return to the other side. It is not only time for Trump, but it is nearly time for something altogether different. Sometimes I am chomping at the bit to do. I can sum it up in one word: Zelda.


On the 3rd of March, I will become a big kid again (assuming I ever actually grew up – there are grounds to question this). Nintendo are bringing out the Switch, and I want one. I want one enough to sell body parts. I want the new Zelda game for it. I can’t wait to go back to Hyrule and explore all there is to see. I am GEEKING OUT!

I might need to go lie down. I am so excited that I am barely sleeping. Curse you, 13 year-old mind!

A homicide wasn’t what Detective Inspector Adjoa Idowu had planned on dealing with when her shift started, but no sooner had she sat down behind her desk at than the call had come in for her to take a trip to Gants Hill. Reports of a shooting and a man seen forcing another man into the boot of a taxi, which then left the scene. Now she and her partner were racing toward the scene, providing extra numbers, whilst armed units were en-route. No one was to take any chances where guns were concerned.

“Any idea where the taxi is?” She asked of her partner. The man seated on the passenger side looked tired; dark circles around his eyes made him look older than he actually was.

“Not at the mo, alerts have been put out, there are a lot of bloody taxis. We need the reg number.” His east-London accent emphasised his mood, which was grouchy.

“Cassandra keeping you up?”

“Yeah. Teething stage. She’s grizzly and wants nothing but cuddles, even at four in the morning.”

“You wanted to be a dad…” She began.

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. “He flashed a toothy grin and ran his fingers through his somewhat wild light-brown hair. “I would like a little more sleep though.”

“We’ll be there in a minute. Murder and kidnapping too. Early thoughts? Stephen?”

“Hmm? Oh, sor…” Stephen yawned. “Sorry. Could be gang-related, most gun crime around here is.”

“Yeah, maybe. Pretty serious if they’re moving in on the suburbs. We’re here…” Flashing blue and red lights overwhelmed the lights of Christmas decorations, and several people had stepped out onto their front paths to gawp at what was going on, despite repeated warnings to stay indoors. Harried uniformed officers, some in hi-vis jackets, were establishing a cordon around the scene. Coming up from the other direction was an ambulance.

One of the uniforms walked up to the blue Honda as Idowu stopped. “Evening Ma’am. SO19 have already arrived and have determined the area is safe.”

“Great Kevin. What do we know?” She asked as she switched off the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Victim is an Andrew Harper, 88 years old, lived here for nearly fifty years.” Kevin waited to continue as the two detectives got out the car. They pulled their coats tightly around them then all three started toward the house. “At first it looked like a robbery gone wrong, but a couple of the neighbours have reported seeing an older gentleman force a man in a balaclava into the boot of the taxi, at gunpoint.”

“Weird.” Remarked Stephen. He and Idowu let Kevin lead them into the house.

Andrew Harper’s body was still propped against the frame of the door, where he’d fallen. Blood had soaked the old man’s cardigan and had run down his trousers and onto the carpet. Someone had closed his eyes, a gesture of respect. White fluff was everywhere.

“Forensics should be here in a minute to examine the scene and the body. Did either of you need anything?” Kevin asked. Idowu looked at Stephen, who shook his head.

“No thanks Kevin. Can you organise door-to-door?”

Kevin smiled tightly. “Already on it, but a lot of locals are being quite quiet. They think it’s gangs, and they don’t want to get involved.”

“I can understand that. Just do what you can.” She replied. Kevin nodded and walked back out of the house. New footsteps followed, and a moment later a young blonde woman in the green overalls of a paramedic stepped into the room. She greeted the detectives with a nod.

“Hey.” She said, in a light voice.

“Hey Jen.” Stephen answered. Adjoa smiled at her, despite the scene.


“So this is the victim?” Jen knelt down, looking over the body. “Looks like a bullet wound the region of the right lung. Would have done a lot of damage to this old boy.”

“I thought we were the detectives.” Idowu said sardonically.

“Yeah, well, sadly I’ve seen quite a few bullet wounds in my time. I’ve got a stretcher outside, we’ll get the body to the coroner to look over him properly, but looks like just the one bullet. Not gonna poke around too much, I know the forensic team is going to want a look first…”

“Ma’am!” Kevin came storming back in, sticking his head round the corner. “Sir, Ma’am, another body, dumped in a hedge. Could be related.”

Idowu and Stephen looked at each other. “I’ll take a look at that, you stay here.” Stephen said. “Come on, let’s go.” He let Kevin lead the way.”

Idowu locked eyes with Jen. “I had wanted to see you tonight… just not…”

“Yeah, I know.” The other woman offered up a lop-sided smile. “Still, first time our jobs have crossed our paths eh? One to tick off the list.”

Despite the scene, Idowu smiled. “Yeah. I don’t know if there’s much more to do here.”

“Sadly not for this guy. Makes me angry you know. No one should get gunned down in their own home.”

“I have a feeling this is going to be an all-nighter.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll see you later. Be safe.” She smiled one more time, because heading off toward the waiting ambulance.

Idowu watched her go, appreciating the discretion, in more ways than one. With a shake of her head, as if to dismiss certain thoughts, she started to take note of the pictures on the walls, and the gentle-looking home that Andrew Harper had maintained. “I’m sorry Andrew. I really am.”


“Sir. We think we’ve found the weapon used here.” He held out a sealed evidence bag, containing a bloodied blade.

“Thanks Kevin. Can I have a look?”

“Yes sir.” Kevin handed over the bag. Stephen flipped it over, studying the weapon.

“Looks like a carving knife.”

“Yes sir. Seems like it. We’re asking residents if they saw or heard anything suspicious, so far no one’s seen anything.”

If it’s gang trouble they don’t want to know, and I don’t blame them. “Thank you Kevin. I don’t think anyone will come forward, but for now, let’s keep asking and keep searching for any clues.”

“Sir.” Kevin nodded, and headed off toward the road. On the side of the road was the young man’s wallet. Stephen had flicked through it, finding the cabbie’s licence, regular driving licence, and a couple of ten pound notes. A card from his employer, that had the phone number on it. The poor sod had been stabbed violently, once in the neck and several times in the torso. There was a lot of blood that had dripped down from the rust brickwork that seperated the hedge from the pavement, blood that was rapidly congealing. The young man – one Liam Roper – had been killed more or less on the spot.


Broken glass, a broken door, and signs of a struggle. An old man murdered in his own home. Idowu rubbed the bridge of her nose. Aside from the pointlessness of it all, how did this crime connect to the stabbing of a taxi driver?

“A man with something on his face, being forced into the back of the taxi. Seems a bit weird.” She looked down the road, in the direction the taxi was said to have headed. “We’ll know more once forensics come back with their reports, but I have an idea.”

“Well, don’t hold back. Let’s hear it.”

“The killer stole the taxi to use as a getaway – probably the first car he came across. Quickly killed the driver and disposed of his body, before heading off to find what he thought was a vulnerable target.”

Her partner nodded. “Old man, living alone, but our killer didn’t bank on him having a visitor. Still, why would this guest kidnap the killer?”

“That’s the piece of this puzzle I don’t get. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Gotcha. This is gonna be an all-nighter isn’t it?” Stephen rubbed his cheeks and groaned. “I’d better let Michelle know.”

Idowu offered a weak smile. “Fraid so mate.”

“I’ve got the station calling the employer of Liam Roper now, trying to find out if he’s got any connections to to anyone unsavoury through his work.”

“Good idea. I’ll try and see if he’s somehow connected to Andrew Harper, and run a background check on Andrew. I don’t think this is gang related.”

“Me neither. Let’s go.”

Chapter 5

Back to Techno Fail

The moment is almost upon us – soon, the world of Hyrule will open up once again in Nintendo’s upcoming epic The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. This title launches on both the Wii U and the Switch on the 3rd of March, and it will boast a game world even bigger than the huge world seen in Skyrim. The entire world of Twilight Princess can fit inside the opening region of Breath of the Wild – an illustration of how big the new Zelda game is.

My aim is to offer up a diary of my experiences of this new game. If the Switch allows it, this will be in video form, but if not, it will be serialised here. Proceeding on the assumption that it will be a written diary, the purpose of this post is to offer up how I feel as I stand on the edge of possibly the greatest Zelda adventure of all time.

‘It’s the deep breath before the plunge’ – Gandalf the White, Return of the King

It most certainly is. I’ve seen the demo footage, and I’ve studied the trailers intently. There are many places of interest to see, and what’s been running through my mind is where to start. I find myself drawn to the volcano in the distance. Nintendo have said that if you can see it in the distance, you can travel to it, and so it may well be that I set off in that direction. That said, the map reveals a skull-shaped rock, to the north east, which is a curious formation, and one that kindles memories of the original Legend of Zelda game on the NES (given this is the 30th anniversary of the Zelda series, this does not strike me as a coincidence). Somewhere in this vast land waits the Master Sword, and the Guardians lurk everywhere, waiting to attack Link if he strays too close.

This promises to be amazing. It promises to be emotional (yes, I know, it’s a game, only to some of us it’s more than that – after all, some of us get emotional over sports, some over soaps, others over music, so why can’t I get emotional over a game?), and exciting. I hope you will join me on this adventure.

On to Chapter 1

Back to the Legend of Zelda