If there ever was a God, he invented cricket before handing control of the world to the neo-cons. So while we are going to hell in a handbasket (and wtf does that mean?), we at least have something to take our minds off it.
The true majesty of cricket does cause some problems. The game lasts five days but can turn on each and every ball. England have lately developed the habit of allowing the balance of a game to shift several times a day, which makes for gripping spectating.
And traditionally the spectating is done with a radio tuned to long wave for the BBC's Test Match Special - a broadcast that is one of the last bastions of civility, decency, English wit and the joy that is an afternoon cake. Cricket, like baseball, involves a lot a nothing going on interspersed with a few seconds activity. TMS fills the nothing with talk of red buses (on the St Johns Wood Road), arcane statistics (the fastest 50 by a left-handed batsmen at number four on an English wicket) and the chances of an afternoon shower.
TMS is perfect for idling. An idyllic summer's afternoon involves tea, crossword and TMS while sat in the garden.
When working it does present problems. Although these days it is often streamed online, it is far too distracting unless you have managed to clear the decks for a few days of workplace idling.
Step forward Guardian OBO cricket commentary. TMS is ball-by-ball on radio, the Guardian has over-by-over on their website. This requires a few seconds of reading every few minutes, and thus allows more work to be done by the suffering wage-slave.
They have also managed to carve their own niche by telling it how it is and by engaging the readership in irreverent chit-chat. For example:
46th over: England 150-3 (Collingwood 19, Pietersen 15)
Up comes the 150, but at lunch England would have hoped to have reached it for the loss of one wicket at most, not three. Still, this is steady stuff from these two against Malik's off-spin: two off the over. "Not a snowball as such, but whilst staying on a farm in New Zealand, I was taken out on an early morning rabbit shoot by the farm hands," says Andrew Hallsworth. "When we spotted a bunny I was handed a rifle and took aim. It was the first time I'd held a gun, the target was 40m away in a stiff cross-wind and my hand is as steady as Michael J Fox's. So shaky was I that the rabbit only entered the sight every five seconds or so, so in the end i shut my eyes, used the force and pulled the trigger. Flopsy took it right between the eyes and I was left to insinuate to the impressed farm-boys that I had been an SAS sniper in my youth. Bunny's revenge was that I shortly discovered that I am highly allergic to NZ rabbit fur as my eyes closed up and sinuses opened."
65th over: WICKET! Flintoff c Shoaib Akhtar b Naved 12 (England 201-5)
Oh Freddie! The trap had been set, but Flintoff can't resist top-edging a pull to fine leg where Shoaib takes a simple catch. Perhaps Steven Harmison should write "Twat" on his forehead again?
39th over: Pakistan 147-3 (Mohammad Yousuf 70, Inzamam 34)
That's tea, and this game is very nicely poised. Another 50 runs for these two after the break and Pakistan will be thinking of a first-innings lead. But two quick wickets and the advantage will be England's. Join Sean Ingle at 10.30am GMT for live coverage. And thanks very much for all your emails. "I had an aunt Gert who was married to uncle Bert," says John Osborne. "I swear that's true. He was my gran's brother and she was my grandad's sister. Slightly weird, but then we are from Norfolk."
Lovely.