It's almost as if he's been a member of Sanctus1 for the past five years:

A huge percentage of the stuff that I tend to be automatically certain of is, it turns out, totally wrong and deluded.

Did I hear a shiver of recognition? And he captures in a nutshell that giddy feeling I sometimes get when I'm in a queue, my imagination's sparking, and the air is rich with fireworks:

It will be within your power to experience a crowded, loud, slow, consumer-hell-type situation as not only meaningful but sacred, on fire with the same force that lit the stars - compassion, love, the sub-surface unity of all things.

And the irony, the painful irony of his closing comments. Read the article in full here.

Labels: books, guardian