Museum pizzas
As the government withers this column falls to ennui and visits Pizza Express. As David Cameron, who left the world…
Vanilla ice cream
I could map out my life geographically and temporally in scoops of ice cream. From the oyster delights handed over…
Debunking debanking
As I sat down to write this column, an old friend let me know he’d just been ‘debanked’. That is,…
A narcissist eyes up the White House
Back in the late 1990s, when I lived in Dallas, Texas, I became fascinated by television evangelists. They were hucksters…
Wild life
The Farm, Laikipia Outside the nightjars were calling and a zebra brayed in the valley. The constellations were still bright…
Real life
When I received an email from the Co-op telling me they had made a mistake with my car insurance, and…
High life
Gstaad There are lurid rumours circulating around this Alpine village that an international literature symposium has taken place, with some…
Plane speaking
Idris Elba would have made a perfect James Bond. Not the James Bond that we knew and loved when he…
More cuddly than cutting
Nothing demonstrates the inanity of profanity like an undercooked comedy. The famous Spitting Image puppets have returned in a political…
Dream team
Most artists begin an arena show with a bang: emerging from the floor, the gods, on a hoist, everything short…
Of mice and men
I’m listening to John Cleese talking to Justin Welby in the new series of The Archbishop Interviews when the thought…
Breaking the sound barrier
You’d have to have a heart of stone to not be moved by Name Me Lawand. It’s a documentary about…
