I finally caught up with Terminator: Genisys this weekend and it’s fair to say that I viewed it with the same sense of disappointment and rising disinterest that the rest of you probably experienced—and not just because Netflix seemed to be working on dial-up speeds (oh, the irony!) at the time.

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Here’s a thing I wrote for Facebook, and forgot to post, because that’s exactly the sort of diligent political commentator that I am. Once I’d finished it, it seemed a bit too meaty for FB so I decided to make it a rare non-writing related post right here …. it’s about Donald Trump, and a what an enormous fustercluck this whole business is …

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I really wasn’t going to write anything about Bowie. I figured there was nothing I could say that thousands of other people hadn’t already written or thought. Then I realised maybe that was the point. His passing, while terrifically sad, seems less about the grief and more about the joy that we were able to share him at all. There’s joy to be had from what he left behind, and that each of us got to have him in our lives. He was the consummate outsider. He was different to anyone who has ever been or ever will be. But we will always remember him for the way he reflected a small part of each of us back at ourselves.

Below is my experience of Bowie. Does it match yours?

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