However a personal anecdote about a young barrister named Tony Blair who accompanied Wheen to a pub in High Holborn where he bought a packet of cigarettes and enjoyed a smoke at the bar ( yes thats right folks! ) holds as much poignance as any of Wheen's more proxied hypo-digesis concerning the petulant and illogical tantrums of a hyperchondriac Ms Mao, or a mad Nixon roaming across the White House lawns. In light of these fleeting glimpses into the 70's Britain that Wheen experienced first hand, hidden amidst the narrations of secondary texts of worlds he's never inhabited, are genuine and honest perspectives. I wish Wheen had attempted a more personal and honest account of his experience of the era, ideally almost auto-biographical. With Wheens talent for insightful observations and wonderfully shrewd recollections of contexts - this would be so worthy and so vital. There are moments of such gems buried within regurgitated cultural strata of 'Strange Days Indeed', but the majority of the content is sadly re-accounts and re-tellings of familiar scenes. There are already towering examples of 70's dramatization and Wheen shouldn't compete, not because he cant, but because I feel he has something much more valuable to offer.