New glasses this week, following a big change in prescription and a catastrophic fail of the old frames—one of the hinges simply gave up and fell apart, an example of fatigue I can only empathise with.
Sticker shock unfortunately comes with the territory for me at the opticians—I have astigmatism, need varifocals and anti-glare coatings on the lenses, all of which add up quickly. I have to view it all as an essential purchase I simply have to suck up. The financial bite still rankles, but then I am now seeing more clearly than I have in—well, years, frankly. Is that necessarily a good thing, or was I better off living blissfully in a hazy blur? We’ll see, if you’ll excuse the pun.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
Everything Must Go by Dorian Lynsky. This is a jolly romp through humanity’s collective obsession with the end of the world, a subject we’ve been yapping about for as long as we’ve been able to write and talk. Covering all bases from Revelations to AI, this is a fascinating glimpse into the dark side of the collective soul, split neatly into subjects like The Machines and The Bomb. No other species has created the means to utterly destroy ourselves then spend so much time and effort worrying about it. Funny, un-nerving but somehow comforting in that despite everything, we’re still here.
Rob is watching…
Bad Decisions, from Dan Levy of Schitt’s Creek fame. This is a more angular, less cosy but far more propulsive and plot-driven show than the aforementioned comfort watch. Centred around a theft and its rapidly spiralling consequences, you’re forced to hang on for dear life as every decision made in desperation and panic by the two main characters only make things worse. I’ll say no more. Grab the first episode and you’ll know where this is going.
Rob is listening…
You know why I put this in. Great to hear the old man in such good voice.
Rob is eating…
Maggi tablette. I can feel the eye-rolls from certain members of The Readership from here—about time, Rob. Yes, fine, my mistake. How can a simple stock cube be such a flavour bomb, bring all the umami of MSG while adding its own particular character and complexity? An idle pick-up of a 24-pack in Morrisons has me wanting to centre this stuff in my regular rotation. The lazy option just got interesting.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
I am one of those people who will park themselves in the Rothko Room in Tate Modern and just let the colours vibrate at me for a while. This fun little tool, which grabs your location then offers up an artwork based on an interpretation of the current weather, is sheer genius. At the time of writing, on a rainy Reading morning, we have No. 14, painted in 1960. Nice, eh?
Amber Katcherian understands the assignment. Pay attention, tourists. We don’t muck about here.
I must be one of the few people who genuinely enjoyed James Grey’s quirky, elegiac space-age drama Ad Astra. It turns out the version released to the public was heavily mucked around with by the studios, who clearly couldn’t see what the director was going for. I’d love to see Grey’s cut, because the movie, for all its flaws, heavily resonated with me.
A frankly baffling ‘interview’ with an AI instance from someone happy to call themselves Taffy Brodesser-Akner in the NYT. So many questions, not least of which—why did she have to fly from America to London to talk to a screen in the first place?
A fine list of context-free comic panels. I’m delighted to see my personal favourite in the mix.
You may have noticed this week marks the hundredth anniversary of Marilyn Monroe’s birth—congrats if you hadn’t, guess you haven’t turned on a TV or looked at the internet. Aaaanyway, I was taken by this little look at one of her most prized possessions. Marilyn was always smarter than we gave her credit for. I think we’re only now starting to catch up.
An interesting way to get publicity for a movie which would disappear into the churn of new releases otherwise. There are a few bits in the piece which irritated—images on VHS doesn’t have to be 4:3, and it’s pretty clear the film was shot conventionally on digital media before it was converted to tape. Also, please note Stuart Heritage never actually sees the VHS version he’s based the whole article on.
Apart from all that, yay, I guess.
Ugh, awful news. We’ve lost Marjane Satrapi, author of Persepolis. The book is a pillar of the Ninth Art, a mainstream breakthrough which uses humour and sharp, clean artwork to tell a story which has more urgent relevance than ever today. She remains an inspiration to me, and she will be missed.
Further breaking news yesterday that we also lost Anthony Head. So long, Giles. This one’s a bit too raw to talk about yet.
Right, quick, let’s cheer ourselves up by talking about comics a bit more. Specifically, that tenacious cub reporter Tintin. More specifically, his particular sartorial style. Comfort, practicality and a distinctive silhouette. That’s dressing for success.
Just leaving this here, agreeing with every word.
In conclusion.
Thirteen years ago this week, Queens Of The Stone Age released …Like Clockwork, an album wrenched from near-death experience, loss and sheer goddam cussedness. It’s probably their best record. Elton John plays on it, you know, offering his services with the immortal line “what this record needs is an actual queen.” It’s the perfect soundtrack for a gloomy morning. Go stare at a Rothko while you’re listening.
See you in seven, fellow travellers.
EXCUSES AND HALF TRUTHS 