Term has begun. Lots of people wandering around looking dazed, confused and lost – and that’s just the lecturers. I haven’t had much time to do anything but try like some virtual King Canute to stem the relentless tide of emails and worry about how, as lowly bottom-feeders on the ocean, we will be affected by the coming Tsunami of public sector cuts. I don’t suppose there’s anything we can do about it either way. I think I’m just going to adopt that old Millwall FC chant: ‘No one like us, we don’t care.’
In lieu of a proper post here are a few bits and bobs of not very much.
I did a review of a new book by Paul Addison about Post-War Britain:
I also wrote a long piece for History Workshop Journal about the cyclamate charm and strange political life of the television presenter Hughie Green:
And the Boring conference I’ve signed up for on 11 December seems to have generated a lot of interest:
Mundane quote for the day: ‘I am anxious to say a word about the potato. But will the Muse fail me? We sing the flower, we sing the leaf: we seldom sing the seed, the root, the tuber. Indeed the potato enters literature with no very marked success. True, William Cobbett abused it, and Lord Byron made it interesting by rhyming it with Plato; but for the most part it enters politics more easily and has done more to divide England from Ireland than Cromwell himself.’ – John Stewart Collis, The Worm Forgives the Plough