Rearranging deckchairs on the Titanic?

"If There Is I Haven't Found It Yet" is an extraordinary play. Somehow it manages to be both very much of this moment and peculiarly British, and yet universal.  You could set it in New York and it wouldn't cease to be relevant, although the particular self-persecution did strike me as rather English, not to mention the mini moral panic about tomatoes flown in from Spain and purchased at Tesco, Evil Tesco of all places!

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The Fear.

This week, the fear of learning to snowboard. I know what you're thinking. It's "Are you SURE he's not plotting to push you over the edge of a mountain and make it look like an accident and you will be found 127 hours later with one less arm?"

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The List.

The Nightclub door List is a myth. The List is New York's answer to a comprehensive record of the entire membership of the Illuminati. Obvious you say? Well yes. But the problem is, if The List doesn't in fact exist, then how on earth do you get on it if you're not insanely beautiful? I think I have an answer.

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Melancholia

A guy sitting by the window is either famous, or thinks he is. He is wearing sunglasses. Inside. Only Jack Nicholson is allowed to do that. Is this where my life has ended up?

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Derby, She Wrote

Any sport where the cheerleaders (sorry, "jeerleaders") are exclusively brunette, wear head to toe black, hold up signs featuring handcuffs and resist pretty much any physical movement at all is my kind of sport.

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