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Smashed Critic

"John Coleman, the smashed movie critic of the old New Statesman in my day, retreated at press time into his den with a bottle of hooch," Christopher Hitchens recalled. "Soon after, the reassuring sound of the typewriter keys was no longer heard. One day Martin Amis, who was editing the pages, decided to look in and found Coleman's slumbering face making a faultless left-profile impression in the keyboard. Wondering if the short burst of typing had produced anything usable, Martin yanked the paper from the machine and read the two words: 'Clint Eastwoo...'"
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