Well I just got into town about an hour ago, took a look around, see which way the wind blow
Hooray, Mad Men is back. An excellent television series, soon to be ruined by liveblogs, reader engagements, tangential articles and comments, comments, comments. Gone are the days you can just enjoy a decent show on the telly, here come the ones where interactivity ruins everything associated with dignity.
Watching the arsehole fall out of Real Madrid has been sobering. While Barcelona have always seemed on the edge of a league catastrophe, Madrid have been, clearly, engaging in a charade of routine competence. Dropping points in their last two games, it seems that Jose Mourinho’s new pair of tits aren’t the only thing starting to wobble.
“No people will strive as the British will strive. No country will adapt as the British will adapt. No country will value those who work as we will value them.” How could you possibly know, and for what; how could you possibly know, and to what; how do you know, and what about those who can’t? If you’re not shaking your head and your fist in unison, then, sincerely, get fucked.
Does Nick Clegg have a terminal illness? He’s murdered his party: at the next election, he’ll be lucky to hang onto his seat, never mind his place in government – and he’s conspired to murder the NHS. Quite simply, there’s no other way to explain his appallingly bizarre behaviour, unless he’s an egomaniac power-crazed fantasist.