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Inspired by a beautiful and painterly scene that she witnessed on a lonely moonlit beach one summer night, of a young couple taking a self-portrait on a mobile phone, the French photographer Catherine Balet set out to capture the specific spectral quality of the light that she sees emitted by our computer screens and electronic devices: "The chiaroscuro of the 21st century".
Until today I ignored the Harlem Shake. I knew it was a video found online but that was it. I knew models were doing their own version of it, and fire-fighters, and bored office workers, but I didn't know what they were doing. I was not going to be sucked into another online meme. When people spoke of it down the pub, I would shake my head and proudly announce that I had no idea what the Harlem Shake was.
Many Olympic heroes have toiled in sports that offer everything but fame
Who gets your vote for sexiest man alive? Ryan Gosling? Johnny Depp? What about George Clooney? Well, The Onion went with the less chiselled, but more powerful, Kim Jong Un, dictator of North Korea. "Kim made this newspaper's editorial board swoon with his impeccable fashion sense, chic short hairstyle, and, that famous smile," read the article.
Sarah Morrison on the rise of an unsigned "gimmick rap band"
The third time proved charmed for Robert Walser (1878-1956). In 1905, after two initial attempts, the writer left Switzerland to settle in Berlin, where he would remain until 1913, joining his brother Karl, a painter. As it happens, Robert arrived right in the midst of Karl's annus mirabilis, which saw the elder Walser produce cover illustrations for bestsellers, as well as designing theatre sets for Max Reinhardt.
More so than Miranda Hart, Stephen Fry and David Mitchell, Alexander Armstrong seems to be the acceptable face of posh comedy. With his comically large ears (a gift from his father), crinkly smile, affable demeanour and (crucially, perhaps) lack of smarty pants, he's the cuddly side of the upper classes in an age when, rather oppressively, toffs seem to be taking over again. Even Armstrong's overgrown Hooray Henry, 'Harry', in those adverts for Pimm's – alcopops for the privileged – is cherishable. Not that he drinks the stuff in public, he says, for fear of wags shouting, "It's Pimm's o'clock" – one of the great advertising campaigns, by the way, that helps explain some of Armstrong's wider appeal. The more you parody the posh, as the creatives at the advertising agency Mother realised, the more accessible they become to other groups.
Is that a naked dancer on your lap, or are you just pleased to see me?
A lamentable slew of recent spoof movies has done untold damage to a once proud – and hilarious – genre, says Ben Walsh
Not many of us have heard of playwright Perry Pontac. More's the pity, says Alan Bennett – his Shakespeare spoofs, now in print, are perfect parodies
Streets ahead of Meet the Spartans, and the other dreadful efforts that pass for film parody these days, this beautifully realised blaxploitation homage gets every detail spot-on, and yet it's studded with so many perfectly timed jokes that you don't need to have seen a single blaxploitation film to fall about laughing.
Concerns that 2009's electro-pop resurgence has nowhere left to run are partially allayed by this self-styled "diseuse" – a monologue performer, for the uninitiated.
A Swedish author whose new book was promoted as a sequel to J D Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye cannot publish it in the United States because it too closely mirrors Salinger's classic without adequate parody or critique, a judge ruled.
Forty years on from his debut Night of the Living Dead, George A Romero reintroduces a zombie pandemic to America – like they don't have enough social problems already.