Here’s a thing I wrote for the Jewish Quarterly.
Congratulate me. I’ve just written a whole sheet of A4 by pen. After years of computercentricity it felt weird, foreign, as unwelcome a throwback to the 1980s as news that The Tweets have reformed so we can hear the “Birdie Song” live again (ah, “The Tweets”. Now there’s a name that finally has meaning in this social network age). As I heaved the pen clumsily across the paper, sweat pouring from my brow, Repetitive Strain Injury gathering in my freaked-out forearm, I felt like a man trying to plough a field with a… well, with a pen. (more…)
with thanks to chigwiri.com
I’d have more sympathy for Eurosceptics if they had a more positive-sounding name, something like WorldBankingSystemCollapsophiles. You have to admire their determination that the important thing now is to be able to decide for ourselves how straight our bananas are (insert own euromyth here), even if the ensuing financial collapse means we have to pay for those bananas using a barter system (1 banana = 3 shiny pebbles and my sister doing a dance for you).So off to Brussels Cameron goes, with the Tory right asking him to show some “bulldog spirit”, which I presume means returning with a deal which guarantees us 20 millions tons of Chum and a squeaky cat toy for every citizen. (more…)
With thanks to chigwiri.com
Racist ranting: it’s the new craze that’s sweeping the nation. You can even get £250 if you send in a video to the BBC and it gets used on You’ve Been Racially Abused. I’ve just seen the “Second Racist Rant” (I’ve posted it below) and it’s absolutely shocking, especially if you’ve seen the first racist rant (the one on the tram). I mean, where’s the kid on her lap? She’s a complete amateur! (more…)
Here’s a thing I wrote for The Independent
I’m not a gambling man. My poker face is about as enigmatic as a Latin American football commentator celebrating a goal, and as for slot machines, I’m with British Gas – if I want to lose a ton of money just by pushing a button I can switch on a light. Still, there’s always been part of me – the part that’s presently enjoying box-sets of the “Sopranos” – that’s envied men who play poker in smoke-filled rooms, real men with big hands who talk about boxing. Maybe I’ve been missing out? So when I was offered the chance to visit Las Vegas for the first time, I jumped at it. Could this be the making of me? (more…)