Zoomtard

Potential Zombieland Spoilers Follow

Over the last few weeks, Zoomtard has been Mr. Delegate #1. I missed all of the Alternative Spiritualities Conference except the bit where I waffled a bit alongside a supersmart Anglican called Ruth Jackson. The following week I spoke to the Irish Bible Institute’s Research Group on a “Critical Assessment Of Something Or Other That Only Interests A Small Group Of People Who Have A Disproportionate Number Of Goatee Beards”. Then last weekend I went to the Interface Conference in Maynooth and met some mighty fine theologians who were great fun too. Finally, I spent two valuable days this week at the Global Leadership Summit, which is a weird experience.

In the midst of all that I managed to get some work done. Of course, if by work you mean drinking coffee and exchanging small talk with academics who were dedicating their lives to studying Jediism or Jonathan Edwards or jargon spouting business leaders, then I am a freaking dynamo. I have a friend who is a Fellow in Trinity College and he seeks to avoid conferences. They do him no good- socially, professionally, and one presumes caffeine addictionally too. I think I could evolve into that species if my life were to follow his path into academia. The bad coffee and the mid-afternoon slumps and the constantly worrying if you remembered that last persons’ name… it is slightly less stressful than having to use those machines in the Post Office.

But then again, the Interface Conference was like the Citizen Kane of theology conferences, if Citizen Kane was half as long, not nearly as dense and a whole lot more fun. Maybe if I knew more about movies and more about conferences I’d actually say Interface was like the Zombieland of conferences; enjoyable and much better than you would think but ultimately you can’t get past the fact that Bill Murray got shot half way through.

I had a great dinner with Oliver Crisp and Ben Dare where we talked about the web, homosexuality and universalism. Wife-unit lured them back with chilli and then pretended to be a fundamentalist with violent tendencies to keep the conversation interesting. A nerdier description can’t be written but it might well be apt. I all too briefly got to talk to Katharine Moody, a real life emerging theologian. (Alert the evangelicals: those emerging crew turn out to not be rabid) And there were a whole load of Maynooth chaps to chew the fat with too. Finally meeting Eoin O’Mahony in the flesh was obviously pretty cool too.

In between all these papers and conferences I spent a foggy day in Bristol and took care of three teenaged boys for a few days and preached a sermon about Sabbath; which is a laugh because the last time I took a day off, Stephen Ireland was still playing for Ireland.

Your Correspondent, Her pyjamas make him angry