Approaching its 200th birthday in the rudest of health, the Spectator is known for the quality of its writing and the deep eccentricity of some of its writers. Given the freedom to say what they want, they take that freedom and more, and the result is original, provocative, often very funny, sometimes plain wrong. 
From Jeffrey Bernard's reports from the Soho frontline and Auberon Waugh fulminating about hamburger gases in the early 1990s, we encounter in turn the wild stream of consciousness of Deborah Ross's restaurant reviews, the pinpoint etiquette advice of Mary Killen, Rod Liddle's frothing but elegantly sculpted outrage and the magazine's secret weapon, low life adventurer Jeremy Clarke. This bumper selection, which also includes eminent diarists, mad letter-writers and Boris Johnson, amounts to a masterclass in comic writing, lovingly compiled and edited by Marcus Berkmann, who still can't believe he wrote a monthly pop column for the magazine for twenty-eight years without being fired.

The Spectator Book of Wit, Humour and Mischief

Forty-seven years after NBC killed it off, Star Trek celebrates its half-century in a state of rude health. Boldly going where several other people have been before, Marcus Berkmann tells the story of this sturdy science fiction vehicle from its first five-year mission (rudely curtailed to three), through the dark years of the 1970s, the triumphant film series and The Next Generation, to the current 'reboot' films, with a younger cast taking on the characters of Kirk, Spock, McCoy and co.
With wit, insight and a huge pile of DVDs, he seeks to answer all the important questions. Why did Kirk's shirt always get torn when he had a fist fight? What's the most number of times Uhura said 'Hailing frequencies open, sir' in a single episode? (Seven.) And what's the worst imaginable insult in Klingon? (Your mother has a smooth forehead.)

Set Phasers to Stun

Set Phasers to Stun - 50 Years of Star Trek

Non seulement nous nous moquons du concours Eurovision Song lui-même, mais nous avons lancé d'autres pays européens pour l'avoir pris au sérieux, et ils ripostent tous en votant les uns pour les autres chaque année et en ignorant nos chansons (parfois) palpablement supérieures. En conséquence, la Grande-Bretagne est devenue le Millwall FC d'Eurovision: nous sommes détestés, nous savons que nous sommes détestés et nous prétendons que nous sommes heureux d'être détestés. C'est en fait une situation assez triste.

Ses oeuvres

Ses derniers livres