The Plank

Deep Fry

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Alex Massie calls attention to the delightful news that Stephen Fry (of "Blackadder" and "Jeeves and Wooster" fame) now has a blog.

To date, it has merely two items--on smartphones and fame, respectively--but that's quite alright given that they run to an encyclopedic 6,500 words and 9,000 words respectively. Indeed, in the preface to the latter item (which proceeds the "Intro" by several graphs), he allows:

This blessay [an intentionally horrible term for "blog essay"], while entirely different in other respects, is also unaccountably and inexcusably prolix. Sorry about that, I don't seem to be able to keep things brief. So my advice is that you read it in bits. Or print it out and save it for a rainy day or a recalcitrant motion.

If "recalcitrant motion" is not the most marvelous phrase you've read all week, well, you're reading better things than I. The entire post (and, as noted, "entire" has to do a great deal of work here) is a pleasure, covering such topics as Dan Brown ("a blunderer of monumental incompetence"), what celebs call non-celebs ("Mops/moppets," "Civilians," "Ordinaries," "Muggles," "Punters"), and whether Tom Cruise really demands that nobody look at him when he's on a film set. I'll offer just one small taste of his response to his own fame:

Is it fun? Or, as student journalists always ask, what's it like? 'What's it like working with Natalie Portman, what's it like doing QI, what's it like being famous?' I don't know what it is like. What is being English like? What is wearing a hat like? What's eating Thai red curry like? I don't believe that I can answer any question formulated that way. So, student journalists, tyro profilers and rooky reporters out there, seriously, quite seriously never ask a 'what's it like' question, it instantly reveals your crapness. I used to try getting surreal when asked the question and say things like 'being famous is like wearing blue pyjamas at the opera. It's like kissing Neil Young, but only on Wednesdays. It's like a silver disc gummed to the ear of a wolverine. It's like licking crumbs from the belly of a waitress called Eileen. It's like lemon polenta cake but slightly wider. It's like moonrise on the planet Posker.' I mean honestly. What's it like?? Stop it at once.

In the event of a rainy day or recalcitrant motion you can find the whole thing here.

--Christopher Orr

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