I must sort out my camera-software so I can deal with the intrigue visually. Meantime my power of description is the only thing with which I am armed.
Son Jon, touring the southern hemisphere (go here for latest), does a nice line in post-modern semi-ironic birthday presents. When he was a broke student (not quite the same as the sort of broke he is now) he would buy me something that made me laugh for not very much money. By the way Jon phoned us this morning from Coffs Creek - what a great name. Looks cool.
As a sort of evangelical sort of Christian sort of, I have not, in the past, gone in for icons, candles etc and, although I am changing in this respect, catholic kitsch is the very last thing I would ever knowingly own. I used to try and bring the worst thing I could back from the Christian Resources Exhibition which has in the past included a brochure for Christians in Carpets (the best place for them?) a mug from a Christian insurance company and seaside rock with Baptist Union of Great Britain through the middle. This is a challenge to which I am certain, Cartoon Dave will rise.
So the gift last year (from Jon, do keep up) was a four inch tall, plastic, action-figure Jesus. He has pale skin, a black beard and long black flowing locks. He wears a white cassock (pope-lite) over which is draped (wait for it) a purple robe over one shoulder only. His perfect toes are placed on purple sandals, to save using another colour paint perhaps.
His arms are the only part that bend. They hinge at the shoulder and elbow. Various placings of the arms means you can imagine him saying:
'Oy Peter, get here, I've found fish.'
'Bless you my children.'
'Did you spill my pint?'
'There's no way St's retaining the cell-group gents ten pin bowling trophy this year.'
'BA571 taxi to here and then cut power.'
'I've only gone and broken my bloody wrist.'
Well I can anyway.
He is on four small wheels so he can glide towards you (won't go round corners though) and the information on the base places the responsibility firmly at the door of a firm called Accoutrements (c) 2001. I've had hours of fun with it and am quite prepared to give it to the person who sends me the best reason why they should have it next. No closing date.