Clearly this is a moment tailor-made for the front crawl, but I can't do front crawl so instead I opt to skull, the swan-like grace of my upper body belying the fact that under the water my legs are going absolutely gangbusters.

Let's dial down the anger in this conversation.

‘Do you know how battery chickens live?’

The cheap entertainment of the “tear-throat” Red Bull plays, with their battles, clowns, and fireworks, has been sharply contrasted with the innovative, “literary” dramatic styles of the hall-playhouses, which favored witplay over swordplay[…]