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It's very easy to get caught up in the gleeful schadenfreude surrounding the Andrew Mitchell affair , and there's no doubt that with...

Millennium People by J.G. Ballard. David Markham is a psychologist (a typically Ballardian occupation) all set to jet off to America o...

Low by Cracker over some of the player background info sequences on Sky Sports' coverage of the final round of the Tour Championship . ...

Here's something I forgot to add to the previous post, but to be honest it was starting to get a bit long anyway. One of the things we d...

Here's a few notes on our trip to Cornwall last week - a sort of combination family holiday for the three of us combined with a substitu...

On The Road by Jack Kerouac. Before we start, chalk up another one for the list entitled Books I Bought Like A Gazillion Years Ago And ...

Startling news from the normally normally sedate environs of Cirencester: Just in case you thought that this was just some sort of ina...

My wife and baby daughter are away for a couple of days, so it's time to kick back, pour a glass of something brown and volatile, and la...

Much has been written about Andrew Strauss ' departure from the England captaincy this week, so I'll restrict myself to a couple of...

Idoru by William Gibson. Colin Laney has a weird talent - he's able to detect patterns in computer data by picking out "nodal poi...

Brand names that I never really "got" until having a belated forehead-slapping moment of "oh, riiiigghht! " revelatory c...

This one from a couple of days ago on the BBC website : This is of course another crash blossom as previously mentioned here and here...

Age Of Iron by JM Coetzee. Mrs. Curren is a retired classics professor living in Cape Town at the tail-end of the 1980s. Not only is th...

Leaving aside a bit of disagreement on how best to handle the foul stench emanating from their groinal areas, we're all pretty much dow...

Just a quick addition to the last post: my teasing reference and subliminal link to Nigel Kneale 's 1968 drama The Year Of The Sex Olym...

I suppose it's obligatory to do a post at least tangentially related to the Olympics, so here goes. Tangentially, though, remember, so n...

Never mind Allah writing his name in aubergines and all that stuff, here's a haunted piece of salami I found last night! Now I ass...

It was a double helping of early morning shouting at the radio in the car last week. And a good thing too as I find it really sets me up for...

The Illusionist by Jennifer Johnston. Stella meets Martyn on a train, some time in the early 1960s. She is an impressionable young woma...

Here's your regular religious arsebasketry round-up. Firstly another data point in support of my theory that most high-profile Amer...