"Being the unnatural offspring of man and beast," says Wikipedia, "the Minotaur had no natural source of nourishment and thus devoured man for sustenance."

There's an excuse.

HAVE A SALAD.

For a month, in an inflatable igloo, Sir Tim and pun-master Tiernan led children and their families on an arctic-romp, to find lost explorer Franklin, thought to have gone mad and started eating his shoes. Kind of Booshy, if they were as keen as the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen to recruit Allan Quatermain. Very silly. Pretty damn good ( Read more... )

Sunday. Among many other things, contained the chance to overhear some lovely posh boys talking about a hide and seek party, yah, where the last one (person? child? cat?) to be found was curled up asleep in a large outdoor Ming vase ( Read more... )

Pretty much got it on the nose, T-Rex...


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We have a work contact called Antigone. To have her discussed is always to prompt me wondering why you would name a child Antigone; people will always mis-pronounce it as though playing peekaboo with a disappearing aunty, and there are, er, notable classical connotations. (Is her brother also her dad? How can I ask ( Read more... )

There is a Pixar short at the start of their new fillum 'Up'*. All about friendship, and job satisfaction, and acceptable risk. Shown through the anthropormorphising of a weather condition. And some hella painful slapstick.


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Oh, you know how it is. Your mum kills your dad with an axe because he sacrificed one of your sisters in order to get good sailing in, then you kill her and her lover in revenge for this revenge, thus dooming yourself to be pursued by cthonic deities of vengeance. Greek tragedians make plays out of it, William-Adolphe Bouguereau paints it, and then ( Read more... )