So to follow up my last post, I watched Mad Max and it's rubbish. He doesn't even get mad until the last twenty minutes of the film! And half of those twenty minutes consist of him driving round trying to find people to be mad at. Piffle.
In not-at-all related news, I'm currently reading David Mitchell's The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet. It's set in 1799, and there's an intimation at one point that one of the minor characters is a distant ancestor of Eiji Miyake, the protagonist of another one of Mitchell's books, number9dream. I love it when authors do that. (And yes, before you ask, I do read quite a lot of Stephen King. But not Michael Moorcock. I've never actually read any of his stuff. I guess I ought to at some point.)
That sure was a blog post!
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