Barry Dickins
I’m unrepresented but still resented. By the regular writers of the pulp I contribute to to keep me and mine from the pawnbrokers; by the witless screenwriters’ minders who know how to quote Lawson, but only in jest; by the rank & file plodders who hate the public, and most of all loathed by academics who have a sort of vision of blue collar, but mix it up w ...
Looking Out for Ollie by Sharon Montey & Ghost Train by Michael Stephens
by Margot Hillel •
It is Sunday and that is all it is. I have just read the Australian. It is not Australian. It is The Cringe. I have struggled to like Phillip Adams for years; I liked him when he was Phillip Adams – I guess he did too. He worships Mammon when he once seemed to worship cries in the street and whispers from above. No God in him.
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