If you’ve been sitting at home for the past few weeks with the Netflix going, you may be aware that we’ve been living in a new Golden Age of Television for some time.
Are we also living in a new Golden Age of Sloganeering?
STAY HOME | PROTECT THE NHS | SAVE LIVES
[ Check out YOUR SUPER SOARAWAY Apoplexy Tiny Letter] Continue reading
In the aftermath of my viewing of , the spy news just kept coming… Argo on the way back from the US
But let’s leave Jared Kushner and his back channels out of it for now. (
Oo-er, missus!) I briefly mentioned the recent shenanigans in China in last week’s … Apoplexy Tiny Letter Continue reading Saints and Sinners
Last week’s post on the nature of memory ended with a scene from Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? – the (loose) inspiration for Blade Runner.
‘Does she know?’ Sometimes they didn’t; false memories had been tried various times, generally in the mistaken idea that through them reactions to testing would be altered.
Eldon Rosen said, ‘No. We programmed her completely. But I think towards the end she suspected.’
But that’s science fiction, of course.
Continue reading My Name is Joe 2 – Partial Recall
Last week’s post,
, kicked off with a visit to the new James Bond movie, The Man Don’t Give a **** SPECTRE, before running off on a Brosnan-in-a-tank rampage through British foreign policy. But really, what I wanted to post was more in the vein of a classic, Moore-era romp.
I got yer metaphor for British foreign policy right here.
So, let’s try this again, shall we…?
] More bite-sized whimsy and absurdité from Stroke Bloke here.
Continue reading YOU are the next James Bond