Also being a sad old prick: Steve Baxter, who goes to the window and raises his arms, Eva Peron-style, once. The crowd outside the station cheers. He does it once more, and again they raise a shout. Shut up, Jesus! He drops to the floor, and moves the TV so he can see it at the same time that he's dicking around with them. Asshole gnosis. What is it, what does it matter, if you're not on TV? Nice commentary, but it gets me outrageously pissed at Steve Baxter. The only thing more lonely or pathetic than masturbating, on reflection, is watching yourself do it on playback. He stands at the window again. Somebody snipe him! Just a bit, just somewhere not that bad. I'm not that impressed with Manchester if they can't even manage one lone gunman.
Frank enters, accompanied by Jude and Peter, and says, "He's doing it again!" Pete calls him a "big ponce," and Jude dares him to show them the fillings in his teeth. I like that a lot. Peter: "Where is the beer?" I like that even more. Jude smiles at Steve with great love, as he shouts, "I'm going worldwide. Look at it! Fantastic!" Cameras everywhere! Which, it's pointed out, are paid for by the taxpayers. What a fucked up country, that would use public airspace to force-feed the populace a religious agenda. Good Cop Chadwick throws some Colbert on the fire: "Um, it won't be shown everywhere." Which is good: "If you force this broadcast," he explains, that would be taken as "invasion" by some countries. Fair point: most countries and nations in the world seem to be doing okay without a bunch of Jesuses. One of the most interesting things about this story is how it answers the question at the same time that it takes the question apart: if the Christian God really is the one true God, that's not really a solution in any way. It makes for more problems than it solves, for sure. Steve's like, "Oh, it'll be fine! I'm crazy! Go with it!" Chadwick shakes his head lovingly: "He starts a revolution and says don't worry about it," and takes him to look at the Testaments, which are overfilling every room and cabinet.
Jude sits on her bed in the station-turned-barracks, watching the news about her getting blown up. Remember that? The news goes the extra step of referring to her, Frank and Peter, as "the New Disciples." She's almost cool with that, because that's the most laughably queer part of this entire venture. The explosion is "now being called Baxter's second miracle." She smokes a cigarette, and falls back on the bed. It's dressed in lovely red linens. He smiled at her, in the middle of the fire. When the whole world around them was ending, all that existed, all you had to hold onto, was Chris Eccleston's smile. (We've been to that rodeo a time or two, haven't we?) And she looked back at him across the table, everything falling apart, both of them wreathed in literal hellfire, falling from a great height, noise louder than anything. And he smiled at her, with infinite love. She's dealing. I like her a lot.