Wednesday 15th September

This week the Pope is in the UK for a state visit – and while I don't usually get especially upset about things like this, I'm really uncomfortable with the fact that someone who is responsible for such a huge amount of misery and suffering in the world is invited to this country and given the red carpet treatment. He shouldn't even be afforded a state visit – he is not a proper head of state (elected or otherwise), and, as Stephen Fry eloquently puts it in his Intelligence Squared debate on the subject, it is an accident of history that the Vatican is considered a state at all. Regardless, he is here on holiday as a guest of the Queen, at a cost of around £12 million to the taxpayer (laughable given that the Catholic Church is the largest and richest religious sect on the planet) and we are all encouraged to be in awe of the Pontiff and feel honoured that he's chosen to even set foot on our little island.

Well, bollocks tothat. This man is the head of a church who discourages – on penalty of going to hell – the use of condoms by the poorest and most vulnerable to AIDS people in the poorest and worst-educated parts of the world. He also actively believes in keeping quiet the crimes of paedophiles in his organisation, a problem so unbelievably widespread it's difficult to mention Catholic priests in most company without a remark or joke relating to child abuse being made almost instantly. Of course, Catholic priests are by no means all child abusers, but the fact that systems are in place within their church to help them get away with it beggars belief in 2010 and in a huge, supposedly charitable Christian organisation. As I mentioned, Stephen Fry says it so much better than I could in his Intelligence Squared speech – so watch that. All through today and the rest of this week, I will feel conspicuously disquieted that my government is kissing the arse of a man with blood on his hands. And who accuses atheists of being just as bad as the Nazis. Charming man.

Arsenal are playing Braga in the Champions League tonight, so Alex pops round and we stick the game on ITV1 – spirits raised by the wonderful Champions League music and the very ITV sound of Clive Tyldseley talking us through the action. It turns out to be an entertaining match – as we sit sipping red wine, Arsenal romp to a 6-0 win with some lovely football on display (particularly when Marouane Chamakh stabs home a brilliant team effort close to goal. After the game we flick over to BBC2 to watch Mad Men, when K – on her way home from a gig – calls to say that she's popping into the Tollgate to meet up with Lloyd and Ed before closing time. Naturally, we get ready and cross the road, and while it's odd going to the pub at 11pm it's nice to sit and chat for a while and get a couple of jars in before the bell rings. It is, though, a school night – so K and I at least head home at a fairly reasonable hour, while Alex stays out with the boys and gets trollied in the local gay bar til 3am. I think I've made the right choice here.