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The world of Fargo, like ours, is a fallen one, and it’s clear at the end of this season that the cycle of violence will continue. But we’re also left with a strong hope that some of the characters might have found a way out of that hellish cycle of debt and restitution. And if there’s hope for them, there’s hope for us all.
It’s that time of year when futurists and prophets play fast and loose, projecting visions rife with both promise and peril, weighing the possible against the improbable. As we contemplate competing pictures of the future, although every forecast risks missing the mark, one thing is certain: 2024 won’t be a year for the faint-hearted.
The best novels teach us about the world and about ourselves. In her Lucy Barton books, Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist Elizabeth Strout knows about loneliness and the solitary nature of life but also shows us ways in which we are all connected.
In a world captivated by streaming services, binge-watching hides a hidden crisis: writers and actors, cornered by the very industry they've enriched, face financial hardship and clashing with corporate greed, resonating with global struggles around labor and human value.
It didn’t bother me to watch the coronation. I was always going to, not least because I remember the last one. Despite astrologers' claims that the date of the coronation of King Charles III was a bad omen, the day was a moment of celebration for many; a chance to watch some history and hear some pretty decent music.
In his 'Four Freedoms' series, iconic artist Norman Rockwell depicted a vision of America where people were free from want and free from fear. But with the threat of nuclear war looming, and arms merchants benefiting from conflict, how far off are we from truly achieving this ideal?
Who will champion humane values, enshrine them in the development and workings of artificial intelligence? This is the question posed by Plato and Socrates to our generation, and one that demands our urgent attention as the line between the artificial and the human becomes increasingly blurred.
It is unfortunate that World Communications Day is celebrated in the middle of an election campaign. We have seen the worst of partisan media coverage, of shouting as a preferred form of communication, of endless experts promising Armageddon if the result is not to their taste. And yet we have also seen the best of media informing us of the issues that concern people in different parts of Australia. Without such public communication, for all its defects and excesses, our society would be the poorer.
Does it matter that the Midsomer episode that has me so exercised didn’t mention attempted rape? After all, the guy was charged with murder — perhaps a more serious charge? And it is only a TV program for heaven’s sake. But even though occurring on a TV program, to not call out attempted rape is to trivialise it.
I only wish when I was growing up there had been examples of autistic characters on television like Heartbreak High’s Quinni (Chloé Hayden), played by actors who are themselves autistic. Chloé Hayden is one of the first autistic actors to play an autistic character in a major TV series, and I feel angry that I didn’t see this sort of representation when I was younger. If I had, I may have realised I was autistic before I was in my 20s, which may have made my journey easier.
Salman Rushdie is a writer with a most defiant sense of humour. If you want to get to know him, I wouldn’t start with The Satanic Verses (1988), the book that has brought him so much grief. Thirty three years after Ayatollah Khomeni imposed a fatwa on the author, it would seem to have led, on August 12, to a young man called Hadi Matar making an attempt on Rushdie’s life at a public event in New York.
Five years ago, the beloved and I were in a reality show called Everyone’s a Critic. The show took us all to art galleries, mostly in Melbourne and Sydney, plonked us in front of some artworks, asking us to say what we thought of them. I realised TV norms being what they are, that we could have a ten-minute conversation about artists with whom we were familiar and all that would make it onto the program would be ten seconds of me mentioning my mum.
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