I’ve just finished watching the final episode featuring Sharpe as the young Japanese character Shun, who comes to live in the bizarre world of the very British and quite mad Flowers family. And I have this distinct feeling that the series was written for me.
I usually get the Amy/Tina wit, but was royally disappointed with this one, actually pissed off that women can portray women as such one dimensional, mean, unattractive nobodies who have nothing to share but a disdain for millennials.
About five years ago, I KonMaried my underwear drawer and now all my knickers now maintain vertical integrity. And yes, I experience joy every time I open my drawer.
This cute chenille hanky arrived from Japan today, thanks Yoko! The Japanese just have a different attitude to hankies than in the west…
I think Sex in Japan: Dying for Company is a compassionate and insightful look at today’s Japan. What I like most in this story is the reporting. Rather than talking to media savvy academics or commentators, The Feed team engage with ‘ordinary’ young Japanese.
All our stories belong to all Australians. All our stories should have equal value. That’s why these three plays by South Asian diaspora playwrights Sonal Moore, Kevin Bathman and Roanna Gonsalves are so precious, and resonated with me.
GLOW is fabulous entertainment with crisp, witty dialogue and unexpectedly affecting poignant moments, like the emotionally intimate scenes between sleazy director Sam and the protagonist Ruth. Yet GLOW avoids being too earnestly up its own arse by being fun and just downright silly most of the time.
Unlike many of my esteemed radio producer colleagues, I really liked the 6 part podcast series Missing Richard Simmons by Dan Taberski.
Because all good narratives, no matter how black in theme or tone, are essentially about illuminating the human condition. And the blacker the story, the more it illuminates.
Author Roger Pulvers is a polymath with a formidable list of achievements that after perusing, usually require a lie down with a cold cloth on my forehead. He is the kind of person we might refer to as ‘atama ga agaranai’, a person whose achievements are so humbling that you are compelled to bow down to them.