If you’ve been dying to get your hands on Google Glass, you can join the Explorer Program at 6 a.m. ET on Tuesday, April 15, 2014. You’ll still have to pay $1,500 for the fancy eyewear, but Google is going to throw in a free set of frames or shades.
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The angst-ridden, adorably eccentric adolescent left us with innumerable memorable lines. Here are some classic Mole statements, but what are your favourite Sue Townsend quotes? We will update the list with your suggestions
- Why Adrian Mole was my kindred teenage spirit
- Quiz: How well do you know the secrets of Adrian's diaries?
There's only one thing more boring than listening to other people's dreams, and that's listening to their problems.
I'm not sure how I will vote. Sometimes I think Mrs Thatcher is a nice kind sort of woman. Then the next day I see her on television and she frightens me rigid. She has got eyes like a psychotic killer, but a voice like a gentle person. It is a bit confusing.
My mother is in the hospital grounds smoking a cigarette. She is looking old and haggard. All the debauchery is catching up with her.
I don't know why women are so mad about flowers. Personally, they leave me cold. I prefer trees
[Good Friday] Poor Jesus, it must have been dead awful for him. I wouldn't have the guts to do it myself.
I used to be the sort of boy who had sand kicked in his face, now I'm the sort of boy who watches somebody else have it kicked in their face.
My father was reading Playboy under cover of the candlelight and I was reading Hard Times by my key-ring torch.
I have never seen a dead body or a female nipple. This is what comes from living in a cul de sac.
Glenn has been excluded from school, for calling Tony Blair a twat.
My brother has published a volume of poetry, called Blow Out The Candle. The reviews were ecstatic. I hate him already.
I fear I am losing the battle to mould William's character to my own satisfaction. He's only six, but at his age Mozart was selling out concerts all over Europe.
My skin is dead good. I think it must be a combination of being in love, and Lucozade.
Nigel is a punk at weekends. His mother lets him be one providing he wears a string vest under his bondage T-shirt.
Went to see Hadrian's Wall. Saw it. Came back.
I am an intellectual, but at the same time I am not very clever.
Pandora! / I adore ya! / I implore ye / Don't ignore me.
The woman said it is important for an author of romantic fiction to have an evocative name, so, after much thought, I have decided to call myself Adrienne Storme.
Jason Westmoreland's copper-flecked eyes glanced cynically around the terrace. He was sick of Capri and longed for Wolverhampton...
At tea-time I was looking at our world map, but I couldnt see the Falkland Islands anywhere. My mother found them; they were hidden under a crumb of fruitcake.
I've changed my mind about going to London. According to The Guardian lead pollution is sending the cockneys who live there mad.
Nigel says that Sharon Botts will show everything for 50p and a pound of grapes.
A telegram! Addressed to me! The BBC? No from my mother. 'ADRIAN STOP COMING HOME STOP.' What does she mean? 'Stop coming home'? How can I stop coming home? I live here!Continue reading...
I spent most of my youth being told to get a haircut. As a boy of slight build who usually had hair down around my shoulders, I looked a bit too much like a girl for the comfort of the home counties. Society gets angry when gender roles are blurred, precisely because those roles are a fragile act put on with clothes, hairstyles and makeup. If they weren't enforced, clearly defined gender roles would not exist.Continue reading...
There is a gap in the popular image of the 19th century somewhere around the 1820s and 30s. Between the Regency and Queen Victoria, history seems to skip a beat and the world of Pride and Prejudice decorous, provincial and populated by men and women of the middle and upper classes suddenly gives way to the swarming streets of Dickens's London and flickering gaslight throwing up the monstrous shadows of Uriah Heep and Fagin.
Gaslight was indeed a product of the intervening years, as was much of what we think of as modern science, the electoral system, railways and some of the worst civil unrest in English history. If the last Georgian decades have failed to leave any single coherent impression it is not because too little happened, but because there was too much to make for easy characterisation. What may now look like "the dawn of the Victorian age", as James Secord's subtitle has it, was to contemporaries an era all of its own in which The March of Intellect, portrayed in a cartoon of 1828 as a giant steam-driven robot sweeping away the established order, was changing everything for better, or for worse.Continue reading...
Sue Townsend dies aged 68
What an awful start to a Friday morning to hear that Sue Townsend, beloved creator of Adrian Mole and one of the very very few authors who genuinely made me laugh out loud, has died.
I first came to Adrian when I was, very satisfyingly, 13 and three-quarters (my copy was like this I loved the Noddy toothbrush) and I was enthralled. The spots, the languishing, the overthinking, the "just my lucks". I thought it was hilarious. Easter: "Poor Jesus, it must have been dead awful for him. I wouldn't have the guts to do it myself."Continue reading...
Everyone is for the people. If not of them. The people's palaces, the people's princesses, the people's prime ministers. Those in power traverse that semi-permeable membrane between representing and corralling "the people". Currently "the people" are meant to understand that what is good for "us" is austerity. But who do we mean by the people?
Selina Todd understands the people to be not simply the working class but those who are aware of themselves as a working class. Her book is an ambitious attempt to put together a history that is more than nostalgia. There is a slow-burning anger just beneath the chattiness of the individual stories she tells. Inevitably she sweeps through the decades, but she is always asking how much things really changed for ordinary people. Too often the answer is "not much".Continue reading...
Draw your own love monster and you could win one of five signed copies of Love Monster and the Last Chocolate by Rachel Bright! Send your child's drawing to email@example.com with the subject line "How to Draw Love Monster" by 5pm on 30 April 2014 to be in with a chance! Continue reading...
Some years ago, a kindly editor asked me to review the latest novel by the celebrated American writer Richard Powers. Having attempted the first 30 or so pages numerous times, I eventually gave up and pleaded that I found the thing literally unreadable. But either Powers has mellowed since then or I have got a bit better at reading, because I had no difficulty in finishing Orfeo, and had quite some pleasure along the way.
Our protagonist is Peter Els, a 70-year- old composer, of some obscure renown among the cognoscenti. One day before the events of the novel's present-day timeline unfold, he reads about the DIY biology movement people tinkering with DNA in their garages and orders the appropriate equipment himself from the internet. Unfortunately, when the cops turn up for an unrelated reason, they become very suspicious on seeing Els's lifehacking toys. Then something happens and Els becomes a wanted man, a bioterrorist on the run.Continue reading...