In The Wicker Man (Robin Hardy, 1973), the key to the sacrifice’s efficacy is that Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodwoodward, 1930), embraces victimhood willingly. And so Liz Truss climbs into her photo-op tank and trundles gladly toward the burning wicker effigy of the role of Chief Negotiator for Exiting the European Union Brexit (formerly Secretary of…
Since the weekend, I have been running in my revived 2020 standup show in impressively Covid-secure Scottish comedy clubs, filled with the forgiving laughter of the simply-glad-to-be-alive. On Sunday night I walked the south side of York Place, Edinburgh, towards the Piccante chip shop on Broughton Street. Crossing to the north side of the road…
Another day. Another body under Boris Johnson’s battlebus. Another Tory adviser on the white steps of another Canonbury villa. Another pantomime of regret fabricated from whatever tortured sounds and sad shapes the face can muster. Another bright satellite burning up in Johnson’s doomed orbit. Intended to absorb difficult questions, Allegra Stratton was a five-and-a-half foot…
The majestic shores and tinkling streams of our island kingdom are engulfed by filth. I am self-constipating to stem the tide of sewage, reducing my own filth output by eliminating fibre and water from my diet, and eating only dairy products, and so should you if you are a true patriot. Laurence Fox has already…
I am a travelling entertainer. I spent decades in secondhand bookshops in shabby sidestreets, filling the sick-stomach void between station and show with palliative possibility, panning for gold. Somewhere at the end of the last millennium, a few measly pounds bought me a signed first edition of the Irish travelogue The Crying of the Wind…
“Dance, dance, wherever you may be! I’m the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, and Surrey Heath’s MP, And that’s why I get into clubs for free.” The Gove of the Dance, Sydney Carter, 1963 Few people will ever forget where they were when they learned that Michael Gove had been filmed dancing alone in…