Author Archives: Niall Murphy

Madam,

A ‘serious of tests‘?

The ‘cause of his illness thought to be caused by…‘?

If this is what passes for journalism at the Newspaper of Record these days, I shall be cancelling my subscription and crossing the Liffey to Abbey Street. To buy a copy of Razzle.

Yours etc,

Chompsky

(Meta critic/dog)

400-odd posts in – because that is how we roll – literally a few of our many severals of commenters have expressed annoyance at the limited navigability of the Broadsheet archive.

‘I have heard the cat say ‘Long Johnson”, they typically bleat, ‘but am unfamiliar with TwitterGate, Puberty Ostrich and the Justice For Baby Louise Campaign’.

Rest assured, this will not stand.

In between trays of doughnuts and frequent belts of Diet Fanta from his specially adapted Diet Fanta-Hat™, webmaster Karl is on the mo’fo.

(In the meantime, just keep hitting ‘older posts’ at the bottom of the page to scroll backward though today’s mirthful stylings, and those of the last two weeks.)

Steven Slater is easily the most fabulous, but not the first disgruntled New Yorker to make a celeb of himself by going hatstand on the job. Sixty three years ago, there was William Cimillo.

It took the cops a fortnight to find him.

Holed-up in an entirely different city.

William Cimillo: Leaving a Job With a Bus, Not a Slide. (New York Times)

A youthful Batt O’Keefe? A fresh-faced Ger Colleran, perhaps mischievously contemplating a glittering career in belles lettres and weapons-grade asstardry?

No. It’s Charles Manson.

It’s Charles Manson.