I've never liked evangelists, proselytisers, those who are not happy unless they are trying to convince me that their way of viewing the world is somehow better. When the Jehovah's Witnesses come to our door they risk broken toes. It goes back to being a young teenager at the English coast. Some evangelicals offered me and some of my friends a lift back home to our town. Sitting in the back of their van for an hour they proceeded to try to convert us to their happy state. A content 14-year-old was reduced to a quivering wreck by the time we fell out of the vehicle wracked by doubt at the words of the preacher men. The thought, even now, fills me with distaste. As a student a few years later I witnessed at least one good friend turning to some crooked Indian guru or the other to avoid the pain of his finals. In London you can often see the sad spectacle of drab men shouting out through a megaphone to an imaginary crowd, warning of the perils ahead unless they join their particular brand of faith now. They are uniformly grey, greasy-haired and melancholic. If that is what joining does to one then, sorry, I'm not for their club. The overall result is that even the soft end of the proselytising movement, the Salvation Army, fails to impress. I don't look down on them; I can respect their faith, but feel all the better if they keep their distance. But there is one person, just one, whose adventures in this sphere can bring a smile. He is someone whose story should be told. May I introduce you to John Holme, 39, Baptist lay preacher, computer software sales manager and undoubtedly a nut? His problem began when he sold GBP500,000 (HK$6.3 million) worth of software. He won a company prize and turned it into a paramotor - that's a parachute, with an engine and propeller to strap on the parachutist's back. After only two flying lessons with the contraption Mr Holme took off from an airfield near the town of Salisbury, with his parachute above him, motor on his back, and a megaphone in front. His plan? He was going to swoop down over a housing estate and deliver the word of God, Charlton Heston-style, from the air. One has visions of the good citizens of the town of Salisbury falling to their knees, but instead it all went wrong. Mr Holme never even managed to get his megaphone working. 'I wanted to get through to kids on council estates and I needed some cred,' he said. 'I thought that maybe if they heard this voice booming out from the sky they would think it was God.' But sadly, God had other ideas. Mr Holme was caught in a gust of wind. He started to climb, but so did the ground as he swooped up a hill. The chimney pots were above him. Witnesses told a court that they could see the look of horror on the evangelist's face as he flew through the estate. Margaret Blue said she feared for her bird table as he flew between a chestnut tree and her house. John the Baptist eventually managed to land in a field but his ordeal was not over. The Civil Aviation Authority cited rules that forbid powered aircraft being flown in close proximity to any person, vessel, vehicle or structure, except when landing. It was the first prosecution of its kind - involving a foot-launched, powered, flying machine that is - in Britain, Baptist preacher or not. Mr Holme was fined GBP1,050 - and ordered to pay GBP250 costs. He has also picked up a criminal record. 'For me it is just a step on the way to the ministry,' he said.