The comedian remained deadpan.

He gazed around until on the lid of a spinet he spotted a promising collection of bottles, gin, whiskey, vermouth and sherry, mixed with violin bows, a flute, a toppling pile of books, six volumes of Grove's Dictionary mingled with paperback thrillers, a guitar without any strings, a pair of binoculars, a meerschaum pipe and a jar half-full of wasps and apricot jam.

The pain in his leg comes and goes.

Even mainstream, primetime narratives in the domestic sphere, for instance, now provide unremarkable reflections on the now naive and overly optimistic promises of cybertech, the high-techs, and dotcoms.