Saint Paul, who often blighted my childhood thoughts with his gloomy ideas and whose prescription for female attire led to keeping the post WW2 economy in Europe afloat as millinars plied their trade, would love my new monitor. I may have spent an anxious few days while dealing with indigo becoming purple in the new srgb light, but this has been overcome.
And Saint Paul will probably forgive any unintended slight on his trojan efforts around the Med. No more tinkling cymbals (or dodgy pixels) for me.
(In fact, cymbals should clash, but I thought tinkling sounded better. I wonder what the original Greek is.)