A few times already I've mentioned those amateur video programs on television, where members of the public send in clips of animals and people doing stupid things or suffering minor accidents. As much as we can laugh at idiots from the comfort of our own home, I've always had doubts about the wisdom of presenting physical injury as funny.

A couple of days ago I found out that someone had died while riding a bike. Apparently he lost control and hit a brick wall. The witnesses, who were children playing in the park where he crashed, contacted the emergency services but sadly the gentleman died in hospital.

On the face of it this was another tragic accident. Nonetheless, it was also a ridiculous way to die, or so it seemed to us as we began to make gags over it. We guffawed in disbelief that this could happen in the first place. We chuckled at the thought of kids approaching his battered body asking "You all right mate?". And so on.

Yes, okay, that makes me a bit of a hypocrite. However in my defence I wasn't presenting this information as public entertainment nor was I profitting from it. It must be said the kids who witnessed the accident acted properly. One person described them as very brave. Public spirited yes, but brave? I mean, did they have to face a pack of hungry tigers to reach a phone? Was the bicycle in danger of exploding at any minute?

Sorry. Couldn't help it.

Demolition Not Allowed

The old college site is still there. According to the last word I'd seen on the subject, demolition should have started already. It's looking pretty shabby now. Nature has almost reclaimed the tarmac inside the boundary fence with a miniature forest. The windows are missing, boarded up, or smashed. Wall panels have been removed on the sixties tower block extension too. Quite an eyesore.

This morning I bumped into RL, a retired librarian who researches buildings in the Swindon area, a pleasant old chap that I stop and chat to whenever possible. He tells me that the demolition is postponed. Of course I groaned and rolled my eyes, but it wasn't the usual prevarication and economic woes that have stalled the new shopping mall development there. Nope. They've just found bats nesting in there. Since bats are protected species in Britain, we aren't allowed to knock their nesting sites down.

So now the ruin next door is inhabited by creatures of the night. Cute and harmless ones, of course, but in my imagination only solitary heroes with Big Flippin' Guns would dare go in there. You know what I mean.

Game Of The Week

It's taken nineteen years, but finally citizens of Germany are allowed to play Doom on their computers for the first time. I discovered Doom by accident and immediately got into it - my first ever taste of first person shooter games. My father sneered and said "Nah. All you do is run around shooting things."

Yes. Yes you do. That's what the game is about. I used to create levels and textures for the game, totally absorbed by the illusion of risk. My girlfireind called to see me on one occaision and that was the first time she'd encountered Doom.

"What are you doing?" She asked, curious as to the picture of damp dungeons on the screen. So I explained and offered her a chance to experience my current favourite PC game. Slowly she advanced toward the big double hydraulic doors in one corner of the room. The piggy snorts of monsters the other side of the wall were audible. The doors slid open as she approached and for a moment she was close to panic. When no threat emerged, she began to lean forward on her seat. Erm... What are you doing?

"I'm trying to look round the corner." She replied, going red faced as I fell on the floor clutching my ribs in a hopeless attempt to stifle my amusement. Finally the Germans get to enjoy the same old game, though I suspect many of them already have below the radar.