Megan Rapinoe: Make Yourself Big

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Thirty-six hours before a ball is kicked, the narrative is taking shape. In the vernacular of the British tabloid press, England’s plucky Lionesses are now pitted in an ideological battle against the arrogant US Women’s National Team (USWNT). Not for goals, victories or honours, although one can assume that a game of football will break out at some point, but for the title of most dignified.

Megan Rapinoe won’t be winning that. She and her trophy hoovering cohorts’ behaviour on and off the pitch have been endlessly scrutinised and critiqued since this latest incarnation emerged onto the world stage, consistently failing to impress despite winning a World Cup, Olympic Gold, two CONCACAF Gold Cups and two SheBelieves Cups. They’re arrogant, apparently.

Never a good look on a lady.

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This Life: When We Were Young

Do you remember what you were doing when you first saw This Life? Did you discover it when they did the reboot in 2007? Find the DVD box set in a charity shop? An 8mm film in your Nan’s attic?

Or like me, were you drunk on life (and copious amounts of cider) in 1996, distractedly tapping your fingers on the night bus bell as it might somehow speed up your journey to your room in your parents’ house where the latest episode would be waiting for you on VHS, probably with the beginning or end missing?

Or both.

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JK Rowling: Amber Heard You. So Did We.

JK Rowling broke her silence (and her website) yesterday afternoon by making a statement about the casting of Johnny Depp as Gellert Grindelwald in Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald.

I cut and pasted that description because I literally couldn’t be arsed to write it all out, but don’t take my laziness as an indicator of the importance I place on the matter, I just wanted to get straight to the point rather than faffing about with Gellerts and Grindelwalds. It’s hugely important.

Here’s why.

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The Baggy Trousered Misanthropist: Now available in convenient book form!

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Do you like what you see?

Selected essays from The Baggy Trousered Misanthropist are now available  on the Kindle Store for the ecstatically accessible price of £2.26.

Order yours now, before it becomes really popular and you risk being accused of bandwagon jumping.

The Sergio Ramos Set-Off Theory

Evolution

Twitter is a weird place.

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Laura Jane Grace: Transitional Faze

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I’ve never been particularly comfortable with Caitlyn Jenner’s transition.

That bothered me.

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This is not for you.

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Toby Young, Daily Mail 1st April 2016.

You could say that drawing attention to this sort of thing is giving the trolls what they want.

That Toby Young will be reclining on his chaise longue this morning, clad in smoking jacket and dragging on the big old Cuban parked between his educated lips while he cackles at the outrage his Daily Mail article provoked.

Rod Liddle will be sitting alongside him.

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BBC Radio 5Live: I can’t live, if living is without you

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At this point it’s just a rumour, but that didn’t stop me from recoiling in terror at a headline as it rolled by my eyes this morning.

“News and sport station could follow BBC3 in going off air, or even face closure to save its £66m budget?” it whispered in a beguiling, yet ominous tone. The story has since been dismissed by 5Live controller Jonathan Wall, but the damage is done.

The notion I might have to move through my life without the tones of BBC 5Live accompanying my every step has been introduced into my consciousness. The damage has been done.

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Star Wars: Go home, Trooper. You’re drunk

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When I were a lass, film premieres didn’t really exist.

I’m kind of glad they didn’t, too. I can’t help but feel the lure of the original three Star Wars films, which has remained constant throughout my life, was augmented by the inflexibility of the stories and the character roles. They existed within the films, and my job was to recreate them as faithfully as possible within the constraints of a deep pile bedroom carpet.

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Shirley Manson: The Icon Madonna Could Have Been

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Opening an article about idols by declaring that I personally don’t believe in idols feels like one of those trite writing devices I spend much of my time bitching about.

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