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I Hear a Symphony (1965)

Polish air disaster: only the Jonas Brothers can mend our broken hearts

All of Poland has been plunged into mourning after the aircrash in Smolensk this morning. But in the midst of tragedy, this girl sniffed an opportunity.

Gimme Shelter

The phrase ‘fog of war’ has a double meaning. Ostensibly, it refers to the confusion that reigns among combatants on the ground in the heat of battle. Errors are made, lives lost or advantages squandered as a result of commanders miscalculating the strengths and weaknesses of their own position relative to that of the enemy.

But the expression can also refer to the manner in which events in war sometimes escape scrutiny from the outside world: whether through rising plumes of dust and smoke, a lack of proximity to the battlefield, the lethargy or obsequiousness of the media or the indifference of the general public. Read the rest of this entry »

This Isn’t Funny

The wasted life and tragic death of Mitch Hedberg, who died five years ago this week. See Mitch at his best here.

Oh Lord, it’s so hard to be humble…

I have nothing to add really, except to ask the question that every football fan is asking this morning: Holy crap, did you see that?

God hates…

I’ve been reading the text of this speech by Nate Phelps, son of controversial Westboro Baptist Church pastor Fred Phelps. Clearly, the guy got dealt a pretty bum hand family-wise. And you’d have to admire the way he has overcome that and built a normal life for himself. But isn’t it rather bizarre that his speaking out is regarded as some sort of propaganda coup for opponents of the Westboro Church? Read the rest of this entry »

I Believe I’ll Dust My Broom (1936)

When people hear I’m going to work in McDonalds they react with a mixture of bafflement and horror.

The fast-food multinational has been blamed for everything from rising obesity rates and Third World exploitation, to Morgan Spurlock’s diminished sex drive. On my first day, I burst through the front doors half an hour late, the fragrant scent of Eau de Budweiser wafting in my wake.Read the rest of this article.

It’s the last ever outing for this column

“By the way, Butler’s paying for everything,” says Aidan, before we sit down. “Why the hell am I paying?” I ask. “I’ve given you enough material over the years,” he says. “You’re lucky I haven’t sued for commission!” I suppose, the man has a point. Read the rest of this article here.

Night on the Great River

Steering my little boat towards a misty islet,
I watch the sun descend while my sorrows grow:
In the vast night the sky hangs lower than the treetops,
But in the blue lake the moon is coming close. Read the rest of this entry »