Much as I would like to, I can’t take credit for picking out these thoughts from George Orwell today. Thanks must go to Maria Popova and brain pickings. Have a look at her analysis, based on Orwell's 1964 essay, Politics and the English Language.
LAST week 10 journalism students got together at the Bournemouth University and blogged the hell out of the 2014 MeCCSA Conference. They really did. Across nine Twitter accounts and a live blog, they posted some 62,488 words: 43,000 words in 2,900 tweets, and another 18,988 by way of the live blog. That’s pretty near the wordage of a PhD thesis.
On the day when Gaddafi was threatening to "take the war to Europe", I happened to be flipping through a Playboy publication. Sadly, this one didn’t have any engaging photographs. What it had, though, was impressions of Gaddafi by someone who provoked -- no, taunted -- him in flesh, and came away unscathed.
A writer is a professional spinner of lies. His job: to lay out the truth on a bed of magnificent lies so it is visible to the world. In many cases it is impossible to grasp the truth in its original form -- which is why we try to grab its tail by luring truth from its hiding place. Thoughts from Haruki Murakami...
The future, we all know, is digital. So the present, for this prep school 90 minutes west of Boston, is a library without books. Not one.
There is a word that anyone who has ever worked as a sub-editor is particularly reverential of: public. So very easy to miss out the ‘l’ in it, and, boy, are you in trouble. ‘Gordon Brown addresses pubic meeting’. How nice. Looks like there is another we better start paying more attention to. ‘Finally’.
Stefan Gatward is in the news for waging a lone war against the – how shall I put it? – non-use of apostrophes. He does it with a paintbrush, by correcting street signs that are, well, lacking.
Ouch, can’t let this slide without having a quick go. Noticed on none other than the BBC, a classic tautological blooper that goes... wait a minute, 'tautological blooper' -- is that not tautology?
One Giant Leap to Nowhere is not your average feet-on-the-desk-smoke-a-cigar-and-pontificate column, but vintage Wolfe -- founded on original reportage from the days when he was working the beat, delivered in his trademark tone of breathless excitement, with ellipses, exclamations, and...ka-booms!
This is about a 24-year-old girl who wanted to do a master’s in England with all her heart. Late in the summer of 2005 she boarded a bus from a town on the edge of Russia, clutching a first-class undergraduate degree, £110 in borrowings, and a handful of English words she had picked up at school.
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