Away for a few days, but back soon.  Watch this space.

I can understand where they are coming from, even though I profoundly disagree with them.

If you believe something strongly, you want to be consistent.  The argument goes, if you decide to take your rules from the book, you then can’t pick and choose which rules you want to follow.

That seems to be the position taken by many of the traditionalists in the Church of England, now ringing their hands (and if reports of tears are to be believed, their handkerchiefs) over the recent Synod decision to allow female bishops.

“If Jesus had wanted women to have authority over men, he would have called some women as disciples and given authority to them as well.  Our faith is a ‘given’.  It is something we have received.  We are not free to change it to suit the whims of society,” they say.

Although I can understand that argument, I think there are several things wrong with it.  It seems that the core of the problem is that it makes sense only if you think within the box.  “I believe the bible; the bible says this; therefore I do this.”  As soon as you start to think outside of the box, the argument becomes less compelling.

Their basic premise is that the bible has to be taken seriously as a guide to faith and conduct.  But the bible was written by people operating within social norms for a readership of people living within those social norms.  Although various prophetic characters challenge a lot of the religious and moral conventions of the day, others rights, which we would now regard as fundamentally important, are ignored.  In many ways, racial and sexual discrimination is endemic in the bible.  Slavery and polygamy are tolerated at various stages.

In attempting to follow this book, the traditionalists should also accept the following:

• They are already picking and choosing which bits they wish to follow, and are not following all of it consistently.  So, for example, even the traditionalist rarely, if ever, worship on the biblical sabbath, insist that women have their heads covered in church, stop women from teaching males (especially when the women work as missionaries or in a Sunday School), and stone those caught in adultery.
• Secondly, because the book itself was written by fallible human beings and is interpreted by fallible human beings, sincere followers can use it to justify almost anything.  It has been used to justify slavery, and apartheid.  It wasn’t so very long ago that it was used to justify the financial, political, and sexual abuse of women (especially within marriage - wives must submit, after all).  The present traditionalists may argue that they are different, but it isn’t immediately clear how they are different if the basis of their argument is a belief in the book.
• Some would argue that the concern for human rights and equality shown by many of the liberals and non-believers are making the traditionalists look slightly ridiculous, and far from attractive and compelling advocates for a supposed life-enhancing religion. You could argue that it is making the ‘heathens’ look more moral than the believers.

A few weeks ago, comedy writer Ariane Sherine wrote a piece in the Guardian expressing her view that Londoners were being forced to face disturbing religious messages when they trundled half-awake to work each morning because Christians had paid to have quotes from the bible displayed on buses.

She wrote:

There was also a web address on the ad, and when I visited the site, hoping for a straight answer to their rather pressing question, I received the following warning for anyone who doesn’t “accept the word of Jesus on the cross”: “You will be condemned to everlasting separation from God and then you spend all eternity in torment in hell. Jesus spoke about this as a lake of fire which was prepared for the devil and all his angels (demonic spirits)” (Matthew 25:41). Lots to look forward to, then.

Now, if I wanted to run a bus ad saying “Beware – there is a giant lion from London Zoo on the loose!” or “The ‘bits’ in orange juice aren’t orange but plastic – don’t drink them or you’ll die!” I think I might be asked to show my working and back up my claims. But apparently you don’t need evidence to run an ad suggesting we’ll all face the ire of the son of man when he comes, then link to a website advocating endless pain for atheists.

Imagine you’ve had a really bad day, and it’s only 8.30am. You’ve spilt killer orange juice all over your crucial work documents, you’re pressed up in a tube train against a commuter whose armpit smells like a biological weapon, and you’re late for work and your only excuse is “I glued my hand to a dog”.

You stumble out of the tube, and are confronted with the number 168 bus. It tells you that, along with your boss, a man with a beardy face is going to be upset with you, for ever, because you’ve refused to acknowledge his existence, despite the fact that he’s too antisocial to come down here and say hi. You promptly throw yourself under the number 168 bus.

At the end of her article she noted that you can buy a “bendy bus streetliner” advert for only £23,400 for two weeks.  This means that if there are 4,680 atheists contribute £5, it’s possible to fund a much-needed atheist London bus ad with the slogan: “There’s probably no God. Now stop worrying and get on with your life.”

At the time, I thought it was an amusing article, and just left it there.  But since then it has moved on.  Her idea caught the imagination of political blogger Jon Worth who set up an online Pledgebank where people can pledge to pay the £5 if the total of 4,680 other contributors is reached.  A significant number have already pledged their support.

In my former life I spent many hours and thousands of pounds supporting the promotion of the Christian message (something which I now personally believe to be a faith which prevents people from facing existential reality), so I was quite happy to pledge my £5 as a small gesture of trying to repair a slight bit of damage I caused.

Personally I believe that all people (including atheists) should have the right to promote their messages provided that they are not abusive or inciting to harm.  Let others hear them and evaluate them and accept or reject them.  However, if the campaign is successful, and the advert ever appears, I predict that at least three reactions may occur:

1. Some possible support from the silent (and relieved) atheists in London.
2. Some possible outrage from some Christians protesting that godless messages are being proclaimed on buses.  Sadly these people are unlikely to understand the view that they have had 2000 years of proclaiming their messages (even today with state support) and that atheists have a lot of catching up to do.  Doubtless the phrase “fundamentalist atheists” will be bandied around.  There may even be pickets and prayer meetings at the bus depot in an attempt to stop the bus leaving.
3. Some possible outrage from some Muslims, perhaps even burning of the buses, at perceived attacks on their god who has to be defended from the slight of mere human beings.

Despite two of these possible reactions, I do hope the campaign succeeds. Freedom of speech is important.

One story which has been causing a fair amount of sniggers in the press this week is a research report by the UK Health Protection Agency indicating that sexually transmitted infections have doubled in under a decade in people over 45 and are now rising faster than in the young. (The overall rate of infections more than doubled over the eight-year period from 16.7 per 100,000 population to 36.3 per 100,0000.)

Typical comments on this story have been to express surprise that a) anyone over the age of 45 is sexually active, and b) that not only are people over 45 sexually active, but that more of them seem to be sexually active with more than one partner. Quite frankly, neither of those two things cause me the least bit of astonishment.

While there are always exceptions, the myth that most people stop having sex once they reach the age of 40 is simply that - a myth. It belongs in the same category as the belief that all mother-in-laws are evil, that all teenage males are knife-carrying murderers, and that all blonde females under the age of 30 are promiscuous bimbos. They may be short-hand caricatures useful for the press and for comedians, but most of us know that they are far from the truth.

Some couples over 45 even claim greater sexual satisfaction with age - they are more relaxed, more knowledgeable about what they want and what gives pleasure to their partner. As with any creative and skilful activity, there are some benefits that can come with experience for those who are able to utilize that experience.

The fact that over 45’s may now be having more than one sexual partner is equally unremarkable. In my professional work as a counsellor/therapist I have seen many shocked men in their early fifties, devastated by the fact that their wives have suddenly left them (rarely for another partner). Because people are living longer, 50 is now seen as relatively young. Because there is no longer the stigma about divorce that there used to be, more people are contemplating it. Years ago a woman may have tolerated a loveless marriage because she had little chance of financial security without her husband, because there was stigma to divorce, and because there was little point in leaving as life was short anyway. Now a 50 year old woman can expect to have another 30 years left at least, can have financial independence, and can leave without stigma. In my experience, once the children have grown up, more and more of them are saying, “I can’t tolerate another 30 years of this,” and are leaving in a way which they wouldn’t have done even 20 years ago. There are now more singles over the age of 45 than ever before.

Not only are there more people in this age group available - all with legitimate sexual needs looking for ways of getting those needs met - but there is also much more likelihood of people actually meeting up. Technology has revolutionised contact.

First it has transformed the traditional contact groups - the lonely hearts clubs that used to advertise in the local papers. There are a plethora of dating groups enabling you to ‘allegedly’ meet the person of your dreams, but now offering you a world wide selection. The choice can be staggering, but statistically, if you have the stomach for the search, you are likely to eventually find at least one. There are stories of disasters out there (especially where naive people fail to take into account any likely cultural clash), but there are also some heart-warming ones too.

Secondly, the internet has also facilitated the opportunities for ‘no strings’ sexual contact for those looking for it. Popular sites with titles such as ‘Married But Looking’ and ‘Mature Adult Friend Finder’ speak for themselves. The internet is also credited with, or blamed for, the alleged rise in the number of people (male and female) using prostitutes. Technology has made contact much more private and much easier. Of course, such contact carries risks, and there have been murders, but for some, the risk is part of the thrill. I used to know one respectable clergyman’s wife in her 50’s who regularly met up with more than one stranger for the kind of sexual activity she fantasized about and was unable to get through ‘more normal channels’. Whatever your views about this kind of contact, it is clearly happening on a significant scale, and I suspect the ease of contact means that it is happening more than it ever did in the past.

Thirdly, the use of texting, email, VOIP calls, webcams, and chat programs have all made contact easier. Using your computer you can now have a videocall for free with anyone in the world who has a a computer, a webcam, and an internet connection. The world is smaller. Communication is easier. And it is easier to have secret contact.

In addition to technology, there are other factors influencing the increase in sexual contact in the over 45 age group. The greater availability of cheap air travel means that it is actually easier to meet up with partners contacted on the internet. The availability of Viagra means that those men who were experiencing difficulty are now less likely to be disabled.

While I am not shocked by the fact that people over 45 have sex, and am not shocked that they are more likely than ever before to have contact with more than one sexual partner, I am surprised by the increase in sexually transmitted diseases. I am surprised that this age group, which has lived through the early discovery of AIDS, is failing to practise safe sex when playing away or with a new partner. There seems to be a naivety here more reminiscent of some teenagers. The fact that many of the women in this age group are unlikely to get pregnant means that many of the men and women think that there is no need for a condom for their sexual liaisons. Perhaps this group thought that safe sex was something that young people needed to bother about, and that it was something that didn’t concern them. Now that some of them are ‘back in the market place’ it clearly doesn’t concern them, though it ought to.

Once the sniggering has stopped about this story, one can only hope that it helps convey the message that sexual health is an issue for all ages and that over 45’s are at risk too.

I am now the proud owner of a third one.

The experience of getting there was quite difficult.

Let me briefly re-cap.

• At the end of March this year, I went on holiday to Florence, and after a routine meal in a restaurant, suddenly found myself breathless while walking back to the hotel, and was relatively breathless for the rest of the holiday.
• I had a heart attack when back in the UK.
• I spent a week in hospital which was incredibly stressful because of a crippling phobia I have about needles, blood, and medical procedures. (The English Patient 1, The English Patient 2)
• I had to have an angiogram - an arterial insertion under local anaesthetic (through the groin) where they pump dye into you, take pictures of your internal piping, and work out where the blockages are.  They diagnosed two blocked arteries.  The procedure went wrong (not enough local anaesthetic and bent tubes) and was very traumatic.
• About six weeks later I had to have an angioplasty - an arterial insertion under local anaesthetic (through the groin) where they pump dye into you, take pictures of your internal piping, push up little balloons to open up the blockages, and then put little pipes (stents) in place to keep the artery open.  They did put two stents in one artery, but the procedure went wrong, took two hours, I lost a lot of blood and nearly passed out, and they decided not to attempt the second artery on that occasion.
• I went back yesterday and had my second angioplasty where they unblocked my second artery with a third stent.

Yesterday the experience was so different.  I got the nice doctor (the one who acknowledged that I was an afraid human being, rather than the consultant who was annoyed with me and poked me about like a lump of meat), the procedure only took 40 minutes rather than two hours, and they gave me a double dosage of local anaesthetic.  However, crucially, they finally listened to me when I pleaded with them for some sedation to help me through the trauma.

Let me try to put that request into perspective.  My third operation meant that I had been to the hospital six times, as before each procedure you have to have a pre-admission visit where they take blood, explain what will happen, and get you to sign consent forms.  So, on six occasions I had been saying: “Please listen to me, I have a very genuine phobia that I have been trying to get over for years.  I need some sedation to help me.  Please give me something.”  On one pre-admission visit I took an experienced A&E nurse with me to help argue my case.  I got my GP to contact the relevant consultant to reinforce the message.  And all that happened was that on the first two occasions I was given a small tablet that might have made a gold-fish slightly giggly, but had no discernible effect whatsoever on me (I am very big).  Up until yesterday it was like talking to a cloud.

But yesterday it happened.  I was finally heard.  The nice doctor, who had conducted the first angioplasty, had seen with his own eyes the effects on me of what he did, and agreed that it would be a good idea if I could be sedated.  So they gave me a big dose of Valium.  It was GREAT!  I was totally chilled, man!  When people asked me questions, I struggled to put sentences together.  My speech became very slurred.  During the operation I kept yawning and almost dozed off.  I didn’t have a care in the world.  They gave me the Valium at eight in the morning and I wasn’t back to normality again for several hours.

I am relieved that I am now ‘fixed’ and can exercise vigorously again.  I am glad that I was finally heard.  However, I must confess to being slightly mystified as to why it took so long to get heard, given that a relaxed and compliant patient was in their best interests as well as mine.

If there is a moral to the story, it is this: the treatment for a heart attack is far worse than the heart attack itself (believe me, it really is - I speak from experience), so stop eating salt and doughnuts immediately and develop a surreal passion for lettuce and fish!

If I say to you, “Don’t think of a pink elephant,” it is, of course, the first thing that comes to your mind, whereas if instructed to think of a green one, you are unlikely to have internal pictures of pink.

There is a school of thought which says that we should be more careful about the instructions we give to children. The argument goes that we should frame our instructions so that we state the positive events we want them to achieve rather than state the things we want them to avoid. By stating what we want them to avoid we are creating unwanted encouragement for them to actually do those things - the words inevitably create pictures in the mind. “Talk quietly” might reduce the volume, whereas “Stop shouting” might increase it. “Please walk on the paths” might be more effective than “Don’t walk on the grass”.

While browsing through a copy of this month’s edition of the New Internationalist (not something I do too often as I find it a bit too unremittingly worthy for my personal taste) I was entertained by a very amusing article by Peter Greenwall, where, amongst other things, he discusses what he called the ‘improper use’ of warning labels - the habit of giving people ideas by warning them against something. Some of the amusing examples he gave are:

• You may eat all the fruit in the Garden of Eden except the apple.
• This photocopier may not be used for photocopying intimate body parts.
• The Superman costume does not enable you to fly.
• Do not use your electric toothbrush for any other purpose.
• You may not use your webcam to show your genitals to anyone.
• Your Celine Dion CDs may not be used for clay pigeon shooting.
• Do not use your computer to download free music.

Here’s a little challenge.  What warning notices can you come up with that might achieve unwanted consequences?

(On the day that I read that a Roman Catholic Church in Toxteth, Liverpool, was about to start using the Tridentine Mass exclusively - services in Latin - again, I was reminded of this parable that I wrote some years ago.)

The mountains were cypress-green and breathtakingly beautiful.  Spiros was standing in one of the most impressive parts of Greece.  On a brilliant spring morning he was at the foot of Mount Parnassus, a few miles from Corinth.  In spite of the beauty, all he could think about was the problem of the boat which had become stuck on the sands of his mind for some weeks now.

Should he buy it, or shouldn’t he?  If he didn’t decide soon, it would be too late.  He had the money.  Some had been left by his father; the rest had been painfully saved over the past ten years.  But now, at the moment of decision, he seemed paralysed, unable to jump.  It was such an important decision, such a lot of money, and he urgently needed a message from the gods.  His wife had sent him to Delphi because her sister had been helped.  Rumour and family superstition or experience had combined to help Spiros half believe that the Delphic Oracle would make the divine will known.

And behind all this Spiros was driven by factors that were working at a less conscious level.  Of course, he missed his father dreadfully, and at night, or alone in the harbour, suppressed questions surfaced.  Was there life beyond the grave?  Would he be good enough to please the gods?  Would he ever see his father again?  Were the gods really in control?  Did the gods really exist?

Perhaps the visit to the temple of Apollo would count for something.  It might even provide a few answers.

Spiros felt his shyness acutely as he approached the temple.  He tried to look serious and avoided eye contact with the others as he stood uneasily in the queue and waited for his turn to come.  Perhaps he should have listened to his wife after all and worn the other clothes.  The place seemed so strange and the glum faces of the other enquirers depressed him even more.  He comforted himself with the fact that the embarrassment of leaving now and of pushing past the others to get out would be greater than the threat of staying.  The ease of home was now as far away as the boat of his dreams.

Spiros knew that they would want his money (religious people usually did), but even so, the price that he had to pay for the sacrificial lamb still came as rather a shock.  As he handed over the precious coins with poise and feigned devotion, he allowed himself to chuckle inwardly as he remembered the joke about the sinking ship.  As it was going down in one of the storms off Crete, a desperate sailor had screamed out: “Somebody do something religious.  We are about to die!” And at that point another sailor picked up a plate and started taking a collection.  Spiros now felt the bitterness of the boat more keenly than ever.

As the lamb was routinely disembowelled, Spiros noticed the priest’s indifference to the blood and the gore.  The religious man had seen it all before many, many times.  Spiros wasn’t normally squeamish, but this spectacle offended his sensibilities and made him want to vomit.  He wouldn’t be coming back in a hurry to such an horrific scene.

After briefly inspecting the carcass, the priest assured him that the omens were good.  But Spiros had no intention of hanging around to ask questions, and nobody seemed willing to tell him more.  After all, the man had spoken, so who was Spiros to challenge the initiated?

A man in strange clothes and a hard face took more money and then put Spiros’ request on to a lead tablet.  Again, there was more ceremony that Spiros didn’t understand before he was eventually ushered into the inner temple and mystery.  At last!  The route to possible understanding had been long, embarrassing, and costly (not least for the dead lamb).

A few yards in front of him a priestess in ritual garments was sitting on a stool near a chasm in the rock.  She ignored his presence, and this apparent aloofness made Spiros feel both angry and afraid.  Was she mad?  It certainly looked as if she was out of control.  He remembered that his sister-in-law has said something about a woman fainting.  The fumes from the chasm were obviously important to the ceremony.  The priestess inhaled them eagerly and mumbled incomprehensibly.  So this was it, thought Spiros, the heart of the religious experience.

He strained forward to catch her words.  It was no good.  He would never remember what she was saying and it made no clear sense anyway.  Religious mumbo-jumbo?  A foreign language?  How was he to know?

Spiros could feel his contempt rising, although he was afraid to show his anger in the apparent presence of Apollo.  How could he make sense of all this?  As he looked around seeking scraps of information, and an escape, he noticed a scribe writing frantically.  Perhaps the scribe knew the language.  A few more scribbles and contortions of the face (obviously reflecting inspiration) and then the man looked at Spiros (or rather through him) and spoke: “One of the signs of the growing of truth is the clouds in the heavens.  Look to the winds for the direction of life and the shifting of treasure.”

Years later a learned friend of his would tell Spiros that he had been taken in by the subconscious effects of the poetry.  At the time, Spiros had just been thrilled to hear something in his own language, even if it did sound rather vague and archaic.  For more money it was copied out again for him and Spiros left with his answer.  At least somebody had communicated what Apollo wanted.  Spiros felt that his need had been met.

It was obvious to Spiros that Apollo was telling him to buy the boat.  He would make a fortune by using the wind to fill its sails.

Three-and-a-half years later, as he started a life sentence for debt, Spiros began to wonder if he had misunderstood what Apollo had said.  The religious man (who, incidentally, had bought the boat that had belonged to the prisoner at a knock-down price) was convinced that Spiros had got into debt, not because Apollo was wrong, but because Spiros must have been a bad man.  At least now Spiros would have more time to contemplate both what happened at Delphi, and his decision.

Apologies to many of my regular readers for a second ‘techie’ blog in one week, but I need to get it out of my system.  I will return to my normal subjects next week - I promise.  It’s just that I have recently discovered something else (see Backup!) that I find really useful and I feel that there might be at least one other person out there who agrees with me, so I write in the hope of brightening at least one other person’s day.

I know that large numbers of mobile phone users can’t get excited about receiving email on their handsets, but some of us can.  I think back to the times when people said that mobile phones were big and clumsy and would never catch on.  (I personally feel that the same will happen about receiving emails on phones.  I predict that in 10 years time it will be the norm.)  Anyway, at the moment, there are those that do, and those that don’t.

However, that isn’t strictly true. There are, in fact, three categories: those that don’t, those that do whenever they collect it, and those that do instantly.  Most of us who do have to consciously log on to the Net on our phones and collect the mail from our mail servers.  However, for some time there have been a small elite (mainly business people and politicians with Blackberries) who have paid for the privilege of having their emails sent (pushed) out to them the minute it arrives on their mail servers, so that it instantly arrives in their inboxes without them having to consciously collect it.  The key phrase is ‘paid for the privilege’ and most of us have not been interested in the extra cost involved.

When I discover a service or a product that I like, my starting point is “there must be someone on the Net offering a similar service or product for free”.  And I am usually correct, though it can take some time to find it.  I have recently discovered a ‘free’ push email service (I will explain the quotation marks at the end) which I have been using for about a fortnight without any problems.  If you are interested, here’s what you do:

• Go to Cortado and sign up for one of their email accounts.
• Follow the instructions at Cortado on how to set your phone up to receive emails.
• You will receive a message on your phone asking if you wish to receive PUSH emails.  Accept.
• You could abandon all your other email addresses and just use your new Cortado one.  Alternatively you have to find a way of directing your existing mail to your Cortado account so that it can be forwarded to your phone.  You could do this from within your Cortado account by using the POP settings to collect mail from your usual email address(es).  Personally I think that Gmail (Google Mail) is by far the best thing since peanut butter - not least because of its fantastically effective spam filters and flexible features.  I use my Gmail account to collect mail from all my other email accounts.  I then use the forwarding features in Gmail to forward all my mail to my Cortado account (which it does instantly).  Once it hits my Cortado account it is instantly bounced to my mobile phone.

I say this is ‘free’ because there may be two potential costs.  If you have a contract with your phone, check out the costs of internet connection and downloading.  This used to be expensive, but most phone operators will now provide it for free on certain contracts.  The other cost is that Cortado pay for the service by pushing out occasional adverts, though I have yet to receive one. Personally, this is a price that I am willing to pay in order to have the extra excitement in my life.

By the end of next month I have to make the decision, and I’m starting to twitch about it already.

The contract on my present mobile phone is coming to an end and I want to get a new model.  I could, of course, save myself all the hassle, and keep my perfectly good handset.  It has served me well, is still in good condition, and has an excellent 3.5 megapixel camera with a macro function that I have used quite a lot with some very pleasing results. Oh, and yes, it makes and receives calls too.

I could keep it … but I won’t.  I take the view that a) as long as the service provider are willing to update my handset, I will not refuse the update (especially as my monthly rental is paying for the handset whether or not I accept a newer model); and b) there is always a family member or work colleague who will appreciate the hand-me-down and put it to good use.

Normally the exchange involves a very amusing and profitable ritual dance.  The steps are as follows:

1. I search the Net and newspapers for the best offers that are available for the price I want to pay (these are always better than what you would get from walking into a shop).  I also check out the offers that my present provider is making available to new subscribers.  I arm myself with information.
2. I phone up the upgrade line and inform them that as my present contract has come to an end, I would like to upgrade.
3. They offer me an upgrade.
4. I tell them that I would like the new contract to reflect the options available to new subscribers.
5. They tell me that that is not possible as I am an existing customer.
6. I tell them that I do not wish to renew my contract as the amount of minutes and texts I can get elsewhere is more than they are offering me.
7. They tell me to phone the cancellation line and give me a different number to call.
8. I phone the cancellation line and speak to a much older and more experienced operator whose sole purpose in life is to persuade me to stay with my present provider. She (it is usually a she) will tell me that I am one of their longest and most valuable customers, and then make me the most amazing offers - more minutes, more texts, cheaper rental, other freebies (almost anything short of sex on demand and washing up for life, and far better than what they offer new subscribers).
9. I pretend to think about it for a minute or two.
10. I finally accept, feigning reluctance, and enter into another contract with the company I have been with for years.
11. Having put the phone down, I leap for joy, and then phone up some friends to brag about what I have been given.

This time, that ritual dance will be much more difficult than usual.  I can’t decide which handset to have.  And thinking about the decision, I have come to realize that what I am now looking for in a mobile phone actually has very little to do with making telephone calls.  I want a handset that will enable me to browse the Net and access emails when away from my computer.  I want an interesting toy to play with.

Both of the handsets I am interested in will cost the same on my existing contract.  Both handsets will make and receive calls very adequately.  Both handsets have wi-fi access which means that when my wife is working with a client in our office and when my son appears and wants to chat with the world on the laptop, I can still survive by having access to emails.  (It also means that I can appear to be an important businessman reading financial documents in Café Nero while playing by browsing the web.)  Both handsets have access to satellite navigation so I will have no excuse for getting lost in the Big City.  Both handsets will enable me to listen to music and Radio4 podcasts while on the train.

Up until a few weeks ago, there was no contest.  The Nokia N95 8GB was the obvious choice.  Everyone agreed that the handset had ironed out the few problems associated with the original Nokia N95, and that it did everything anyone could want.  It has a relatively large screen for browsing, and an impressive 5 megapixel camera.  I was already drooling.

And then Apple went and promised the new iPhone 3G - with faster Net access than on the existing iPhone.  Although I have never owned an Apple computer, I was given an iPod Nano as a birthday present and really love it - especially the intuitive way it enables me to interact with it.  Of course, the same kind of touch features are in the operating system of the iPhone.  The touch screen, the very large display, the fast internet access, integration with iTunes, and the style all make it very appealing.  The Nokia N95 8GB looks very old hat by comparison.

Unfortunately, at this point, I have to remember what the creative people at Apple have strangely left out of the iPhone, and I have to ask myself if I can survive without them:

• The iPhone camera is only 2 megapixels.  10 years ago that would have been a ridiculous statement, but with other phones now offering 5, and me being used to 3.5, 2 could be a serious limitation.
• The iPhone won’t allow you to send group texts - so rather than sending the joke to 10 people at once, I will have to decide if it is funny enough to send it 10 times.
• The iPhone won’t allow you to send MMS, and you can only receive them via a weblink.  (Such a strange omission from such a media friendly phone.)
• The iPhone doesn’t have a video camera and you can’t therefore make video calls or post videos of your drunken friends on YouTube. (I actually think I’ll survive without this!)
• The touch screen, while greatly simplifying many operations, makes text entry different and slightly tedious.

I am in a real dilemma.  Is there anyone out there with experience of the Nokia N95 8GB or of an iPhone that can help me out?

If the development of handsets over the last 10 years have made making a phone call a very minor consideration for some of us, I wonder what the next 10 years will bring. (See A Close Shave.)

My iGoogle quote for the day gave me the following which I thought was so wonderful I was ‘moved to share it’.

I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth.
- Umberto Eco