ARMAGEDDON POP

Ah, so it is once again time to pen a new column, and I must confess that I find myself rather indignant, to put it mildly. One sits down to watch and listen to Armageddon POP’s latest "creation" with the rather grandiose title "Demiurge ex machina," hoping for something along the lines of "A Tribute to John Bauer," but alas, no, and again no! Instead, we are subjected to a barrage of peculiarities that culminate in some sort of odd hysteria amongst the musicians. I have raised the matter on numerous occasions with the Proprietor and voiced my opinion that this is an utter disaster for our visitor numbers. He responded that he appreciated my enthusiasm and that I was doing a splendid job with my columns (as if there could be any doubt!), but he was adamant that this was all very modern and fashionable; he had, apparently, heard it from credible sources.

Yes, my friends, such is the plight of striving against an endless headwind, where none seem to grasp the true meaning of etiquette and finesse, and where none recognise that culture is synonymous with the refinement of our senses.

Incidentally, I endured a dreadful debacle in yesterday's match against my adversary. He insisted on pressing on with a rook down, and in a moment of sheer exhaustion, I left it en prise for his King. Shame upon me, shame upon Steinitz’s memory, but mark my words, revenge shall be sweet; the tinfoil hat will be discarded (hopefully along with that character, "the programmer"), and melodious tunes shall grace this website. I swear it, in the name of Steinitz!