Matt's capsule reviews:special update

Creepy old men

I note, somewhat wearily, that creepy old men are back in the news, being creepy. Creepy old men, and their apologists and enablers, who argue that their creepiness is somehow the natural order of things. Old men would have you believe that it is difficult to not be a creepy old man. That it is a task of epic proportions. It is not that difficult. It is a matter of intention. As yet more of the grimness of Epstein unfolds, creepy old men are, sadly, a flaccid topic once again. Whether it be pursuing students thirty years their junior, or simply not asking too many questions about the background of the probably legal young woman who you've just been introduced to by your good pal Jeff. To be clear, I am not referring to criminal creepy old men, the ones who actually committed statutory rape, the ones who fucked trafficked hirls. That is not something which is allowed to get away merely with the contempt of the observer. That deserves prison. No , I'm referring to the hinterla...

Inedible

"He says it's inedible" said my front of house manager, as she laid the half-eaten fish and chips in front of me, and instantly I relaxed. Clearly, I observed, it was edible to some degree. I comped it, because I can't be arsed arguing the toss, and I want to make my front of house's lives as simple as possible. The haddock had been delivered that morning. The fryers had been cleaned that morning. The batter had been made that morning (and it's very good batter, ask me nicely and I'll give you the recipe some time). The fish and chips was identical to the other 27 portions I'd sent out on that lunch service, all of which had come back more or less hoovered up, we have have a (justified, if I do say so myself) very good reputation for our chips. But it was, apparently, "inedible". When it comes to complaints, less is more. If you use a hyperbolic word like that, I'll switch off, you've marked yourself as a rube, a chump, I'm not g...

The kids are alright

Not a slow news week, is it? Still, the papers can't be wall to wall imminent end of the world (though one could argue that some outlets could probably do with a spot more of it) all the time can they? Need a little levity amongst the hydrocarbon-fuelled misery, which is presumably the reason that the Graun helped to fill its pages with this piece, a hoary old retread of a story as old as, well, since kids were allowed in pubs where "some" (a word which does an incredible amount of heavy lifting in the press) Landlords are banning children from their pubs. It cites dreadful behaviour, disruption of trade, surly parents, I'm fairly sure I've read it a few times before (though this one does have the bonus story of a child disappearing down an open cellar hatch, which is kind of fun) This is not, by any stretch of the imagination, news, there are many pubs which don't welcome children, a situation which was largely the norm until relatively recently. I well rem...

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