The peerless WS Gilbert wrote a trio in the first act of The Mikado in which three cowardly Japanese officials play a game of hot potato with a sentence of capital punishment. All are desperate to avoid keep their heads without (ahem) losing face. The morbidly vain Pooh-Bah claims that turning down such a singular honour would be a mortifying act… Continue reading Lyrischism
So there I was, just minding my own business on the tube,* when I saw the below,* That's a lie - I was reading through the Evening Standard, which as actions go is probably as close to minding other people's business as it is legally acceptable to get. I was on the tube though.which, as… Continue reading First Direct. Then, when that doesn’t work, Pretty Opaque.
One of the perks of travelling on the Underground - assuming that body odour and awkward eye contact just don't do it for you - is the range of advertising on display. Shiny new mobile phone contracts, exotic travel destinations and distinctly creepy dating websites all fight for your attention, each desperate to land the… Continue reading Oh yes, we’re unexpected all right. You can bank on it.
I am writing this at 2200 on Friday 24 May in a coffee shop at Waterloo station, between sniffles. My Internet access is limited, which is not ideal when commenting on an evolving story. I may well regret this post in the morning, which is the sort of thing that happens if you choose to… Continue reading Doug Stanhope is a God
There are times I can't help feeling rather sorry for Oxford. I mean, put yourself in its shoes. Not that a university can properly be said to have shoes, of course, but for God's sake play along and stop causing trouble. Go put yourself in a pair of Oxford brogues if it'll make you feel… Continue reading I Got Those Oxford Blues
It hasn't been a good week for the Armstrongs. First Lance's tours de force at the tour de France became something of a tawdry farce, and now Neil has gone to the great astronaut resting place in the sky. Again. There must be a lot of pressure on the shoulders of the cheerfully Pointless Alexander… Continue reading Strong-arming the Armstrongs into a post title
We are all of us, I think, familiar with the image of the benevolently patronising uncle. I know I am, having filled the role to glowing acclaim in three separate productions of nieces and two moving renditions of nephews.In the early days of the run, I should say, the audience was not particularly difficult to… Continue reading What the Uncle Saw