"The doctors say he'll never play golf again."

Okay, so I somewhat infamously don't have a television and therefore am only now getting around to seeing "Mad Men" which I am consuming hungrily, religiously on Netflix. It may be old news to everyone else by now but this show is absolutely fucking brilliant - great cast, gorgeously shot and designed and far far too many genius bits of writing to attempt detailing here. But I would be remiss if I didn't say that Episode 6, Season 3 - the one where the London agency heads come to New York - just blew the doors off for me the other night. I was fucking shouting and laughing, totally cathartic, at the same time. I don't believe anyone has better illustrated the cultural disconnect between the two sides of the pond than writers Matthew Weiner & Robin Veith did in this 45 minutes on AMC. Hilarious, savage, heartbreaking, unimpeachable. And highly, slyly, satisfying - like setting off the literary equivalent of an IED. Like Guy Fawkes Day for theatregeeks. Fucking awesome...