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Sunday, July 13, 2003
 
IF I HAD READ James Delingpole's review of The Cambridge Spies in the Spectator of May 10th, I wouldn't have bothered to blog on it. 10/10.

Unfortunately, you can't read it on-line, although you get most of the magazine for nothing, so no complaining.

Here's a sample:

Cambridge Spies isn't just bad. It's collectibly bad - one of those rare TV gems so shimmeringly dire that it fills you with joy. Joy at all the fun you're going to have with friends dissecting its monumental awfulness. Joy at the sure knowledge that never in your own life will you be responsible for such a spectacular disaster.

As to the fabrications introduced by scriptwriter Moffat, and endorsed by the BBC, how could you improve on this:

But when you're dealing with historical events, surely your first duty is to truth. Otherwise, why bother writing about real people at all? Why not just call them Bunce, Boggis and Bean...?

Unless, of course, falsifying history to serve your own ideology is part of the project.