Dear subscribers old and new,
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This might be better entitled “The Undeath of the Author”. It’s a function of the context collapse that the internet facilitates, but too many people have lost any displayed ability to read critically, and sense nuance.
This is an astonishing glimpse into another time – the late 70s. The Doctor of my childhood outlines a typical day to the Sunday Times Magazine. If a modern actor in the role lived like this and admitted it, they’d be torn apart by the press and social media blowhards.
I love me a cozy mystery. They’re my guilty indulgence. But I also love me some deconstruction of my favourites…
This is the sort of brilliant British eccentricity I thought was dead.
And this is a cutting takedown of a self-serving charlatan and oaf, whose carefully constructed façade of a personable British eccentric is crumbling.
Who needs a drone?
A parrot steals a GoPro - and tries to eat it. Gets some great footage, though.