The so-called EU Referendum debate on so-called ITV (let us not dignify either by naming them) filled me and all my ABC1 liberal friends with despair. Oh! The humanity!! Drunk on Belgian wine, I watched the Barrier Reef of the Britain I know bleach to nothing in the twin glare of Brexit’s burning certainties and…
In 1997 I looked into the pre-atomic age eyes of Harriet, the then 166-year-old Galápagos tortoise, in an Australian zoo, and saw myself reflected back, a traveller in time. And earlier this year, I looked into the pre-digital-age eyes of David Attenborough, on the platform of Oxford station, and saw myself reflected back, a traveller…
Last weekend I found myself trapped on an isolated, monster-infested Pacific atoll with a pair of twin psychic Japanese schoolgirls. A skyscraper-sized lizard, with three fire-breathing heads, the result of careless radioactive experiments in the 50s, and now a huge clumsy metaphor for both the dangers of human scientific meddling with Mother Nature and postwar Japanese identity…
Today, if I worked as a cartoonist for a tabloid newspaper, I could simply hand in a hurried scrawl of heaven, where Victoria Wood now plays the piano alongside Prince on guitar and John Whittingdale’s political credibility on slap bass. But instead, I must write. Does it matter that the torture-porn fan, free-market fundamentalist and…
The television food personality and chef Angela Hartnett, formerly best remembered as the Rod Hull to Gordon Ramsay’s Emu, is curating something called Kitchen Tales at the Chipping Norton Set’s cheese and music festival, Wilderness. But I can’t work out from the blurb if it is an exhibition, an event, a shop, or just some…