Please forgive me for drawing your attention to an article in the Daily Mirror, about the actor playing Harry Potter possibly smoking a joint. "Harry Pothead", beams the Mirror, impossibly proud of itself. "The philosopher's stoned" it continues, while smirking contently at its own cleverness. Yes, those hilarious boys and girls at Britains most revered newspaper surely knows their way arund the words, don't they? I will use this occasion to direct you to a previous post I made on another Potter subject, using the same highly original pun for no apparent contextual reason. Obviously I was the first person in the world to ever think of this, and should sue the internet. Anyway, that post, rather bizarrely, segues into a short but concise analysis of the use of torture in 24. Why bizarrely? Because I am now (not so) hard at work writing a student paper on that same subject.
What is that sound? Could it be the very fabric of my sanity has started tearing? Or is it simply time and space reconfiguring itself around bad puns and violence?
More on delicious torture soon, I suspect. Must prioritise exams over blog.
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