The shift from summer to autumn seems to happen more suddenly than with any other seasonal switch. It’s been accelerated this year, perhaps, by our week in Northumberland — the return to work suddenly had me waking up in the dark, which is always one of the major signifiers of the change. The light has a new lambency, the air a strange foggy crispness. Aldi, charmingly, has both Halloween and Oktoberfest goodies in the middle aisle.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
Annabel Scheme and the Adventures Of The New Golden Gate by Robin Sloan. A neat bit of speculative whimsy from the Bay Area wizard, it’s a buzzy little tale of possible futures, alternate realities and local politics. Some great formatting tricks make this a really fun read.
Rob is watching…
The leaves start to fall from the tree, meaning the starting pistol on the annual struggle between me and the big lime tree right outside our front gate begins again. To me, my shovel.
Rob is listening…
To a lot of last songs. The Run Out Grooves has compiled a list of 200 great closing songs on albums from 1990-1999, with voting now open on the favourites. It’s a tough task. My personal pick will be this week’s Outro. I’d love to know what you’d choose.
Rob is eating…
Currywurst. Can you think of anything better than smoky sausage in a slightly spicy sauce with a mound of chips after a day in low autumn sunshine? No, me neither.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Verdigris — but then as someone who works professionally in colour, of course I’d find this fascinating.
A tiny pause to bid cheery-bye to Patricia Routledge, who has moved on to better things. A doyen of Brit TV, Hyacinth Bucket in the classic sitcom Keeping Up Appearances is a masterclass in character. Many folks have also celebrated her appearance as agony aunt Kitty in Victoria Wood’s shows.
My attention was drawn to this lesser known aspect of her career—as a Tony-winning stage actress. Check out this tongue-twisting 1980 appearance in Pirates Of Penzance alongside Rex Smith and yes, Kevin Kline.
With the change of the season, my thoughts slip naturally into thoughts of a cyclical nature. We seem to be pre-programmed to not allow a static state to drape over us. We change, we evolve, but there’s always a familiarity to it. Are we doomed to think we’re moving forward, when we’re actually going in circles? Sometimes that can seem hopeful, of course. Winter may be coming, but it will always be followed by spring.
Artist’s calling cards, presented in a lovely clickable interface. I still have a couple of boxes of cards in a desk drawer somewhere. I don’t ever find myself in a situation where I’d need to present one, and I certainly don’t carry any with me. It seems a shame, though. They can work beautifully as a tiny introduction to your creative world for a new acquantance.
A fairly comprehensive list of all the accidents, close calls and fatalities which have happened as we make our way slowly, haltingly, into space. I found myself musing sadly on how humanity’s greatest adventure has stalled so massively. It sounds like a horrible thing to say, but if the future outlined by the SF writers I dreamed of when I was a kid had come to pass, this list would be much, much bigger.
This celebration of the greatest pub snack of all time contains one of the most romantic moments I have ever read. You’ll know it when you see it. This is the good stuff. If you’re interested in great food and drink writing, give The Pellicle a try.
We’re living in a hellscape of illegal immigration and spiralling crime figures, right? It must be so, because that’s what all the politicians tell us.
And of course, no-one would misrepresent, obscure or pervert the actual figures on crime and immigration for their own purposes, yeah?
Well, here’s the thing.
I live for questions like this.
A loving portrait of a giant of the Ninth Art, who has made his mark, quite literally, in the important bits of a comic you’re not supposed to notice. Madness!
Nirvana had a newsletter in their early days. It’s exactly the scrappy, charming document you’d expect from three guys who had no idea what was about to happen to them.
A long read on how easy it is to con Americans. Which sounds a bit harsh, but sadly academia is full of these sorts of scams and ruses. Foreign students are a huge source of income for British coffers. It’s easy money, and anyone with the appropriate level of chutzpah can set up their own school to lure it in. For every romantic dream of drifting around the dreaming spires in a big cloak, there’s ten tales of grinding workloads in an industrial unit two bus rides from the centre of town.
Let’s finish with a story which starts with a bad idea and escalates very, very quickly. My expert advisor in the field of HR assures me there would be no way you could get away with this.
And finally, a message from Mayor Pinchy B. Carapacington, from his offices at The Crab Museum in Margate.
Here, as promised, is my favourite closing song of the 90s. Is it an obvious choice, given my tastes and proclivities? Yes. Is it an incredible piece of music from an iconic album? Also yes. It does that important job of closing out a cohesive artistic statement with grace, elegance and an eye to the next step.
See you in seven, fellow travellers.
EXCUSES AND HALF TRUTHS 
Scampi Fries! Food of the gods…
I still remember Cheese Moments. A little taste of the good life.