In today's Sunday Times Culture, I write about the casting of Abi Titmuss in Lady MacBeth. She made me toast, with raspberry jam, which was nice of her. I interviewed her in Lowestoft, which is, incidentally, both the most easterly point of Britain, and the home of ersatz 70s rock outfit, The Darkness.
Which leads me to another piece in Culture, Bryan Appleyard's compelling discussion of darkness and orphans in children's literature and cinema. I like "airless" as a description of Maurice Sendak's cartoons. I had a recurring nightmare when I was little about the child-catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Every night for about a year, he was on the hunt for me. It didn't matter what precautions I put in place, he was always too wily. I normally woke up just as he was about to pounce, but the lingering sensation of airlessness, or suffocation, remained.
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Friday, 6 November 2009
Congo, Gleeson, Cameron, Predator Drones, Bushfires
I've been in the Congo, hence the silence. Did anyone notice? Possibly not. It's probable I'm talking in a void here, but I like that. My wife reads my infrequent posts, when she has the time.
Anyway, while I was gone, the Times almost failed to webtify this interview with Brendan Gleeson, which ran in the Sunday Times Magazine on 1 November. The New Yorker, meanwhile, provided me with considerable solace on my travels with the Congolese bandits, by producing their crackerjack Oct 26th edition. Three interesting pieces: one on the CIA's Predator Drone programme, one on the Australian bushfires (subscribers only), and one on the blowhard director James Cameron.
The crucial things I learnt from this trifecta are as follows:
1) Private ontractors fly predator drones remotely from offices in suburban America, thereby allowing them to obliterate Taliban leaders and any innocent civilians who happen to be standing nearby, and be home in time for dinner.
2) Seriously hot bushfires create their own weather. Very hot ones make their own lightning.
3) You should never, ever, call James Cameron "Jimmy". He also doesn't like to be touched by strangers.
Anyway, while I was gone, the Times almost failed to webtify this interview with Brendan Gleeson, which ran in the Sunday Times Magazine on 1 November. The New Yorker, meanwhile, provided me with considerable solace on my travels with the Congolese bandits, by producing their crackerjack Oct 26th edition. Three interesting pieces: one on the CIA's Predator Drone programme, one on the Australian bushfires (subscribers only), and one on the blowhard director James Cameron.
The crucial things I learnt from this trifecta are as follows:
1) Private ontractors fly predator drones remotely from offices in suburban America, thereby allowing them to obliterate Taliban leaders and any innocent civilians who happen to be standing nearby, and be home in time for dinner.
2) Seriously hot bushfires create their own weather. Very hot ones make their own lightning.
3) You should never, ever, call James Cameron "Jimmy". He also doesn't like to be touched by strangers.
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