Dr. What?

Sorry for the content-free couple of days, my droogs. I’m just very drained and cringe at the sight of a full email inbox. The thought of replying to emails or of having to craft a cogent argument in this space fills me with dread right now. Don’t ask. This, too, shall pass. Heading to New York City tonight… by bus! Yep, the flights are all uber expensive, do I’m doing the cheap-ass overnight bus thing. Save me, ye gods!

The captions for the photo in Tuesday’s post were truly inspired. Methinks we’ve tapped into an unrecognized source of actionable creativity. Hmmm, now how to profit from this discovery?Stay tuned…

Speaking of that photo, I’m contemplating making it into a poll and letting readers decide which was the funniest. Good idea?

Let’s talk more fluff. I’m really enjoying the new season of Dr Who, featuring David Tennant as the Lord of Time. Brother Hrab made an interesting observation the other day, which, weirdly I’d failed to catch: every episode features something relating to zombies. Either armies of slow-marching evil cyborgs, armies of slow-marching evil aliens, armies of slow-marching mannequins come to life, or, more commonly, armies of slow-marching regular humans whose self-control ahs been wrest from them.

What does this mean? What does it say about the British groupthink when its most ubiquitous nightmare is…. deeper groupthink? I have no theories, but I’m sure there are some out there who wish to suggest that Britain’s dance with communism –sometimes leading, sometimes pushing, sometimes courting, sometimes rebuking– might have something to do with this attitude.