It was while walking downtown yesterday, adjacent to the ambulations of a medium-sized man who moved with the lanky posture of a much taller man, he should have been born six-foot-nine instead of five-foot-nine, and whilst a girl in a yellow mohair anorak walked past me mispronouncing 'bourgeois,' that I thought, "I wonder what Jeff Fahey is doing right now?"

The thought was like a javelin cast off from the mouldy fingers of Marduk himself, it pierced my hitherto relaxed mind with fury, breaking the reverie and startling my recessed senses. I felt suddenly very out of place, as people traversed around my now inert self. I moved to depart the area as quickly as possible, rapidly making the requisite motions past hoards of middle-management Human Resource cronies as they ingested their daily helping of tacos and schoolgirls. Reaching the traffic lights I was bade an awkward wait for our green friend as my fellow waiters and I were compelled to subjugate our gazes to the sky in order to avoid gawking at a collapsed octogenarian on the opposite side, the weight of the nearby coffee emporium oppressing the entire situation.

Once staggered in the door of my abode, I wasted no time powering up the eMachines. The jutting feeling of repulsion and dejection slowly lessened its reign on my mind as the cackles of the internet filled the room with a healthy aroma of information. I fired my browser in the direction of The Internet Movie Database, stomped the ethereal words 'Jeff Fahey' into the search contraption and let the wisdom engulf me.

Not only does Fahey possess the most spectacular and consonant of filmographies, as was already well-known, but it seems age is not slowing him down in the slightest. He remains as consistent with his output as though he was a young Jobe once again. Far be it for me to have the capabilities to shed luminosity on his art only just released or to be released soon, but I will nevertheless attempt some sort of previewing roundup.

Firstly there's Split Second. The IMDB (and the entire internet for that matter) lacks any substantial details on this flick, so I will assume it's a tongue-in-cheek remake of the Rutger Hauer film of the same name. A film I never saw incidentally, but while Hauer might have some pretty blue eyes, obviously Fahey outstrips him in the blue department. And with ease at that. It's almost a joke to even offer Hauer up for comparison; Blind Fury may have been pretty cool back in the day, but how does The Hitcher compare with Sketch Artist 2: Hands That See?