1/2, from Waitrose, M&S, … To the extent that the dishes are recognisable, it should be said that many are also generally poorly prepared in Spanish bars, and the supermarket versions are often pretty horrible. But in Britain culinary ignorance combined with the opiate fantasies of illiterate marketeers is producing a rather special new genre.
Strolling up the Lea and then through Stamford Hill, Stoke Newington, Dalston and downtown Hackney with the cracking dawn, most happy to discover in an African independent church the organisation called Kumon, which offers an alternative English and maths programme for small children. Later, most unhappy to discover that this is not an Ebonics-style misspelling…
Alfonso Alonso has dared tell the truth. You could put a barber of Seville in a theatre without more ado, but what are directors good for? It’s good to see Lucía Etxebarria come out as a Yankee neoliberal running dog and call for tax cuts, but she should in fairness acknowledge that the general reason…
There must still be comperes like that knocking around. I’ve checked out the literature, and it turns out that the 80s weren’t really that gloomy. Here they’re using the “Old Master dark” mechanical video filter. Le déluge, après Chuck Berry, with the odd exception: Andy Field‘s great, but I still prefer Dave Bartholomew:
The Catholics want their parties back from the nationalists in Berga. Speaking as a sun-worshipper, I want to know where they got them in the first place.
Apparently Por un puñado de besos is almost as bad as the last Nicole Kidman thing, but that’s no reason why we shouldn’t all pay for it. Wait: isn’t filling halls with fake consumers in order to obtain greater prizes how political rallies work?
