Critic Cal

In early March, the builders finally returned our door keys at the end of a "four week job" that started in November ... We'd got them in to fit us a new bathroom, before the old one rotted or important bits snapped off or water, water everywhere or some other hypnogogic horror realised itself before our eyes. And also to stop it raining in our kitchen because, well, that particular original feature was starting to seem rather worn. And they did an admirable job and charmingly to boot, and there are many very sound (but miserable and boring) reasons why it took so exhaustingly much longer than estimated, so we would confidently pass their contact details on to anybody looking for a builder. But ... it was a long "four weeks" ... to have people around all the time when I'm so greedy for solitude; to have plastic sheeting three-quarters through the house; to have a functionless cave where the amenities used to be (downstairs toilet + gym membership = much

And there was a man named Andrew Gower. He was a former politician, and was rich. And he was seeking to see who Jesus was. Jesus was trending on social media. But Gower could not access it, because he had deactivated his accounts. (This had taken place when news of his expenses first made print. In those days, many people were poor, and the government did not find anything they could do, because they feared for the economy. So when the voters heard about his second home, they all arose against him.) So he went online and made a pseudonym, and followed all the conversations that were passing. And he marvelled at the things that Jesus was reported to have said and done. But one day, someone saw a photo on his profile, and rebuked him, saying “Are you not the man who spent our taxes on an ornamental fountain?” And there arose an uproar among the people. “Away with such a fellow from the earth!” they tweeted. But Jesus said : “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears

Just when mum and dad thought they could safely stop worrying about my little sister leading me astray, said rebellious sibling gets me into Buffy -- a program most decidedly  not featured in the authorised version of the Radio Times when we were growing up. I guess I've long-since graduated from the target demographic. Still, I can easily see why it got so successful. It has everything a high-school horror comedy romance drama series should: the jocks, the geeks, the cheerleaders, the teachers who are out to get you (slash eat you) ... undead overlords, seductive arthropods ... friendship, unrequited love, parental run-ins, the older (but only by a couple-a hundred years, though) guy ... peer pressure, bullying, internet demons ( not the 'background process' type) ... the general, over-arching challenges of trying to balance a social life around schoolwork around slaying ... Sure is a tough gig being the Chosen One: [Buffy defeats vampire/demon/human-animal hybr