I wrote the following in 1999, when I was a teacher at Merchant Taylors’ School. It has deplorable stylistic shortcomings, but I am giving it prominence here in anticipation of the August 21 eclipse in North America, to which I … Continue reading The Darkening
Although I love theatre in general and musical theatre in particular, I am not the kind of person who reads Variety or The Stage and keeps up with every new development. Like many people, I don’t even have the time … Continue reading Hamilton
You know what? What? I’m really happy. What? You know. Don’t you sometimes think that you should just come out and say it? I mean, we don’t give ourselves the chance do we? Just to say it. I am happy. … Continue reading How to be happy in a sad, sad world
Responses to a recent photo-shoot: Phwoar! That Emma Watson’s got her tits out! No, she hasn’t ‘got her tits out’. ‘Got her tits out’ along with the associated chant ‘Get your tits out, get your tits out, get your tits … Continue reading Emma
I have been reading a book about populism. It’s a word that I keep seeing written and which I’ve never properly understood. It usually appears in the phrase ‘a wave of populism’, which sounds like rather a lovely thing. A … Continue reading Populism
A: Mummy, who’s Donald Trump? B: Oh dear… A: Is he like Donald Duck? B: Well, not quite… A: Like Donald Duck, but a trump instead of a duck. B: You know we don’t say ‘trump’ darling, we say ‘popple’. … Continue reading Mummy, who is Donald Trump?
Confusius: I hear they’ve let that Rolf Harris go, then. Exasperus: Let him go? Confusius: You know. After all them sexual assaults he done. They’ve let him go. Exasperus: Why did they let him go? Confusius: ‘Cos his barrister got … Continue reading Rolf revisited
We’re getting used to these nights now. There could be a referendum on whether everyone in Britain should have a red hot poker up their arse, and all the polls could show not a single person wanted a red hot … Continue reading Democracy 2.0
On five Saturdays per year, the Times newspaper in London publishes a crossword which most people pass over without a second glance, but which is quite one of the most extraordinary things every created for human satisfaction. As you can … Continue reading Cross words
My love for my husband died the day small parts of him began exploding in bed. I remember the first occasion vividly. It was his right big toe-nail I believe, though of course I didn’t realise that at the time. … Continue reading Small parts
Stuff I Reckon 