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Archive for April, 2008

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The inestimable Evening Standard, that AMT Coffee-stained, crossword-completed, strewn-across-your-seat Chiltern Railways whore, has taken it’s plump, trembling, sovereign-ringed and sweat-stained finger off the racing pulse of the Nation. Usually so quick to pick up on a crisis, those misanthropic mass-hysteria mongers have failed to identify the biggest English emergency since, well, this.
Yes, a FIG ROLL [...]

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The line is Play it once, Sam, not Play it again, and now I know why. If the iPlayer had been around in 1940s filmworld Casablanca, Rick would be watching reruns of Sam on Later with Jools in his riad whilst Ilsa shunned gin joints to binge on out-of-season Desperate Housewives.
Introducing the ‘watch again’ concept [...]

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I’m afraid. So are you. There’s definitely something in the woodshed, and we can only hope it’s not an old man with a white beard, sandals, a faint smell of fish and a gun.
Julian Barnes’ new memoir/essay, Nothing To Be Frightened Of, shows that it’s life, not extinction, that gives panic its power. That kvetching [...]

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Magazines are border literature. If novels are birds, mags are butterflies: ephemeral, colourful, their mortality demanding instant impact and flash. Slippery and shiny, they whisper evasive insecurity, coyly coaxing us away from sustained examination to surface dazzle and aspirational gauze. Alighting briefly on minefields of potential depth, danger and debate, they are too light to [...]

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