Saturday, February 04, 2006

Clive, Plugged...

Shit your pants and run a mile, for Clive James has relaunched his web efforts!

Looks like he's smothered the always-too-good-for-this-world wot is now handsomely supplanted by the admirably does-what-it-says-on-the-tin

There's probably no bigger fool for Clive James than I. Like many, I first saw him being slightly awkward on TV (probably BBC2's Olde Schule "Did You See?"), then read his "Unreliable Memoirs", then "Falling Towards England" and "May Week Was In June" and then "The Metropolitan Critic" and then "The Dreaming Swimmer" and then "Other Passports" and now I'm dizzy and need to breathe out of a bag. Mmmm brown paper.

Yes, I know he's often too much, too far, too near, but check the damn site! Lookit the Videos! Martin Amis! On a sofa! Did they sit him on a board, like with kids at the barber's? Otherwise, they'd find him months later, along with coins and the walnut half and the old remote control.

I blame James for the fact that I still read more criticism than fiction. But dammit, he did write "The Book Of My Enemy Has Been Remaindered" and "Bring Me The Sweat Of Gabriella Sabatini". They alone demand a knighthood. And isn't it amazing how many H's "Knighthood" has? Back to the bag for me! MmmmmmmMMmmmmmm...

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