If you’ve been sitting at home for the past few weeks with the Netflix going, you may be aware that we’ve been living in a new Golden Age of Television for some time.
Are we also living in a new Golden Age of Sloganeering?
Cast your mind back – it was the days leading up to Easter, and nobody knew what was next for us all…
As will become clear over the coming days and weeks, the narrative is being established. If Johnson pulls through his mild persistent illness, it’s because he’s gutsier than you and anyone you’ve ever loved who has died…
I’ve noticed a lot of writers on my social media talking about how hard it is to get any writing done, what with everything that’s going on, and I thought that it might be an interesting exercise for me – and for me – to examine how that’s working out here in this household. And see what insights that might provide me about how I’m doin.
Long-suffering readers of the blog may have noticed that I often use these posts to grapple with subjects of which I don’t yet have a grasp.
VfL Bochum there, using a pretty broad palette for their 1997 kit.
So, when Long-Suffering Reader Of The Blog Paul asked me if the pig thing [was] lighting up my various comms channels, I was thrilled to discover that The Pig Thing was A Thing that needed both grappling and grasping.
I’ve been trying to tell myself that it’s too early for an #EURef post. But even now, still two-and-a-half weeks out, the media coverage is suffocating. It’s hard to focus on anything else. Europe touches so much that goes on in the blog.
Last week, Mrs Stroke Bloke and I had just returned from our trip to Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. One thing that really caught our eyes – other than the crazy number of Deloreans on the ferry from Cairnryan to Belfast – was the ease of crossing the border.
[Enjoy apoplectic.me? Get close and personal with the Apoplexy Tiny Letter here.]