I've been rudging today.

This is a new word I've coined for the action of really enjoying something that everyone says you're going to hate, or thinks you ought to hate. Let's look at how my neologism might be used in context:

Clive: So Bill, what have you been doing tonight?
Me: I've been rudging Guy Ritchie's Revolver.
Clive: And what are you doing tomorrow?
Me: I thought I might rudge to Oasis' Be Here now. What a great album!

Note than in every case, the appropriate conjugation of the verb 'to rudge' replaces the main part of the verb (so 'watch' and 'listen' in the above examples) that might conventionally be associated with the action in question. It may or may not take a preposition; so I rudge (watch) a film but rudge to (listen to) music.

The word's etymology comes from the title of the novel I'm currently reading - or, I should say, more properly - rudging. Since as long as I can remember people have been telling me what a big disappointment Barnaby Rudge is compared to its immediate predecessors (The Old Curiosity Shop, Oliver Twist) in the Dickens canon. Nearly everyone I know knocks it. Most of my English teachers, the bloke who lectured me on Dickens at university, critics, my dog, the bloke who delivers my milk... all of them.

Yet it's superb. In the introduction, John Bowen says:

Stay out of the black and into the red - nothing in this game for two in a bed.

Shit, that's Jim Bowen. Interesting critique of Dicken's later novels, though. Hold on - I'll try again:

Nothing seems to date more quickly than a previous era's view of the past.

- which I guess is the basis of most criticism of Barnaby Rudge. People who see Dickens primarily as a social commentator rather than a storyteller prefer him when he's writing about his own time. I suppose that also explains the relative lack of critical warmth towards A Tale of Two Cities, which, again, I really like.