Shortly after my arrival, four (aaargggh!) years ago, I bought some paper money in Western because I thought it looked so pretty, all those golds and reds. It was only when the secretaries at work hissed at it in horror that I got rid of it. And the night I did, an uncle died in Ireland (absolutely true - do you wonder at my state of mind? Is it so irrational?).

So the day I moved into my current flat, I decided I'd follow local tradition which meant I couldn't sit down until I'd first boiled some water and waved burning joss-sticks north, south, east and west. I like to think that I was exhibiting cultural respect but secretly I know quite well that I was indulging my superstitious itch. It demands such attentions.

The net result is that, at the moment, I'm unhappy about the future. Two weeks ago, I opened this newspaper and saw the photograph of a blind buffalo which had been attacking villagers up in the New Territories. It died in the week we started the Year of the Ox. Am I the only person who thinks this - combined with the death of a British tourist on New Year's Day - is grimly inauspicious? No The derivation of the word 'sinister' is as follows. Sinister is the Latin word for left. When Romans woke up in the morning, pretty well the first thing they would do after booting Agricola out of the sack was to gaze outside in a bid to ascertain in which direction the birds were flying.

It was their belief that if the first birds you saw were flying to the left, then it was a bad omen and your day would consist of eating dodgy olives and dealing with misbehaving slaves.

The Romans were a proud race who achieved much and made important contributions to the history of the world, and so it's difficult to know what made an otherwise intelligent people conceive of such balls.

But there is a word that explains this particular kind of delusion - superstition. I have a deep distrust of superstitious people because they are all linked by one personality trait - an inability to take responsibility for their own lives. When they are turned down for a job, they reason it is because three weeks ago they walked under a ladder. They fail to reason that they didn't get the job because they turned up to the interview drunk with vomit stains down their tie.

I fail to see why superstitious people find a belief in superstition so reassuring. I cannot imagine anything less reassuring than thinking the whole direction of my life could be irrevocably changed after a random encounter with a black cat. It hardly adds to one's peaceful state of mind, does it? Imagine a life that was truly determined by superstition. There would be no free will or self determination. There would be no point making an effort because that effort could be reversed for no reason. We would be the slaves of circumstance.

Superstitious people have just got to wake up to the fact that their lives are their responsibility, and no matter how much they would like to abrogate that responsibility, there is no running away from it.

When I see a superstitious person, I see a weak person. I see someone who has a problem dealing with failure. I see someone who is unable to maintain the focus needed to determine how their life goes. I see a fatalist.

I'm sorry, but there is no predetermination. There is no omniscient being sending you life clues in the form of black cats and rabbit's fee. The writing is not on the wall. You do make your own luck. You can change things if you want. Fate is not waiting to trip you up. Everything you do and everything you will do is up to one person - you. Deal with this fact and you will no longer be superstitious. Fail to deal with it and you will simply be another part of life's detritus. The cure for superstition is confidence.