David Icke played in goal for Coventry City and went on to call Match of the Day for the BBC. He ran for the British Green Party and went to a psychic in Bristol who claimed she could heal his arthritis. On their third session she had a vision of a Chinese Mandarin she called Wang Lee and the Greek philosopher Socrates standing beside Icke, informing her that he should toss the football commentary and pursue his special calling to educate the earth: for he would initiate the age of a new kind of flying machine that would make time irrelevant.

He has written best selling books and given lectures to thousands in Times Square and Oxford.

He claims that the moon is an old discarded space ship.

He says that humans descend from a reptilian race of aliens called Anunnaki, while some, of purer reptilian bloodlines, are the 'Reptilian Brotherhood' or 'Red Dresses', whose members include George W. Bush, the Queen of England, and Boxcar Willie - their ultimate goal is to insert microchips in the global populous' (sheeple's) heads and thus dominate the earth ...

He believes the collective human consciousness, our sense of reality, is beamed to us from the moon. "We are living in a dreamworld within a dreamworld," he says, "—and it is being broadcast from the Moon. Unless people force themselves to become fully conscious, their minds are the Moon's mind ... "

We await the time machine promised by Socrates ... and perhaps, after all, the arthritis persists ... but I ask you, is it possible to be a complete nit wit and cool as shit at the same time?

I have one. The one in the picture. And I like it, for all the obvious reasons. I'm carrying about 300 books around in my back pocket, but a couple of curious things ...

1. I start many more books than I finish on the ereader. In fact, in about 6 months of ownership, I've only managed to finish one. The temptation of holding a whole library in your hand, accessible without even having to get up out of your chair, is too great a temptation for the over-active mind (never confuse an over-active mind with an intelligent one).

Then, without being able to hold what is gone in the left hand and what is too come in the right, it is possible to feel a little lost in an electronic book, to loose your sense of progression through the pages as well as the plot, and perhaps this causes me to give up on books I otherwise wouldn't. I know I have more success on the ereader with books I have already read many times, where the words themselves remind me of where I am in relation to the front and book covers of the now incorporeal book, than with books that I've taken up for the first time.

2. I remember comparatively little of what I read on an ereader. Not only do I forget the details, but plot twists and minor characters. Perhaps the smell of the page, the feel of it, its colour and texture, the sense of its weight in our hands, are all triggers for memory, or even essential to it. I know sometimes I will look for a sentence in a printed book, and have a very clear notion of whether it was in the upper middle or lower part of the page, or whether that page was on the left or right, without ever having made a note of it at the time of reading.

I love Daleri ... here's "En Route"