NEW YORK - At a recent meet and greet held at midtown Britpub Churchill's here for Shane Richie, the actor schmoozed a few dozen stateside fans, some who traveled several hundred miles to speak with EastEnders' Alfie Moon, arguably the Queen Vic's favourite manager of all time.
It would be a real shame if the legacy of Nina Davuluri was the collection of racist tweets that followed shortly after she was crowned Miss America... The reason I say shame, is that America has come a long way in the last few years when it comes to a better, more positive depiction of ethnic minorities.
São Paulo is a city of contrasts: In one half, you see the height of luxury: five star hotels, skyscrapers and swimming pools, with company bosses earning more than they would in London. In the other, you see the depths of poverty: families living on the banks of open sewers, and millions struggling to pay the rent working as cleaners and electricians. And the biggest contrast of all: millions being spent on a shiny new football stadium for next year's World Cup, while the poorest communities are told there is no money for housing, health centres or schools.
When Gail is visiting her son in hospital, it is Stella who suggests bringing a 'bottle' over the following day. When Chesney is feeling "a bit down", Tyrone pops is head in with eight cans of lager. Now I don't mean to sound like a miserable sod, but how many of us are guzzling back seven nights a week? If you are, please get help.
They don't accept that I've actually left. They say, "Your husband is really missing you. When are you going back?" All that kind of stuff, and I go, "I've left the show." And she's "Yeah, yeah, but when are you really coming back?" People really do invest in this show and love the characters. People also love to hate my character.
Contains Spoilers ***** Last week the Twittersphere erupted in a single collective yowl of shock and disbelief. The cause - the penultimate episode in series three of Game of Thrones.
The depiction of teenagers on British television isn't offensive; it's hilarious. No matter how many 'youf' dramas are created, television still struggles to create dramas that are relatable, being out of touch with the even the minor details such as what trainers a character should be wearing.
Overwhelmingly I find that cultural silos exist more outside of the classical or operatic field. The charge of cultural elitism against people who love the classical arts is deeply ironic when I think of the many I speak to who partake of little more than Robbie Williams and X Factor.
Eastenders is supposed to be a show highlighting the highs and lows of real life. Is this really what real life has become? I don't think it is.
It's December, the fire is burning, the decorations are out and lists are being made - it's that time of year again. Suicide. Yep, tis the season to be jolly doesn't apply to everyone.
While visiting London in early November, EastEnders enthusiast and New Yorker Cary Portway stumbled upon a poster on a street lamp dubbed 'Rotten Cotton', adorned with a photo of Albert Square icons, son and mum Dot and 'Nasty Nick' Cotton.
Writing this on the morning of Thanksgiving is especially appropriate, coming on the heels of last night watching two excellent episodes of EastEnders on public television in the US, which is about eight years behind the storyline you lot see in the UK. Yes, I'm in a time-warp.
Are you suspicious of how much 50p a day can really do? I was. As a mum of two, I appreciate that we are constantly asked to give and I do question where their money goes. Now I've seen first-hand just what this amount of money can do and where it goes: not just to the children, but to their families and communities too.
"Roman Polanski?" someone said to me yesterday afternoon. "Well, he's not as bad as Jimmy Savile, is he?" That is like a red rag to a bull. Was Jack...
I am the Soho Hobo, I was born to spin a hustle, it took time to find my mojo, but I found it on the Dean St shuffle. No I can't stop this excursion, it's in my family roots. My granddaddy filled the Revue Deville, my mother was a teenage nude.
Recently I read that within 15 years the true London or "cockney" accent will be extinct. Immigration, the influence of film & music and the "Americanisation" of society will leave the Pearly Kings & Queens of the East End and the true cockney sparrows who were born within the sound of Bow Bells as dead as a Dodo.