Wow! What cultured lives we lead! Part of mine and Dee's therapy from a week in the thralls of a multi-media integrated news hub is to get to the theatre. First this week there was the History Boys, and now, at our "local", a masterly production of Macbeth in the round. Now Shakespeare has never really rocked my world, and at school I always gravitated towards Orwell and Sylvia Plath rather than the Bard, but Hull Truck bigwig (and possibly Orlando Bloom's Dad) Gareth Tudor Price seemed to know this. Not a tunic or cod piece in sight here, as the characters of this none-more EMO Macbeth wore trench coats and jack boots. It starred Fidel Nanton, known to the Hull Crowd as Clive Sullivan from Windass's equally epic rugby play Sully. Even though I half-expected Fidel's Banquo to slip into "my legs, my legs" at any moment, this Macbeth was dark, creepy and bathed in lots of incense, evil whispers and an amazing sound system. No witches here, just lots and lots of garbled voices that gave a nod to Twelve Monkeys as much as Sir Toby Belch. I never did. The fact it was Friday the 13th and that Hull was cloaked in a creepy fog that turned the fledgling St Stephen's development into a twisted installation, made Macbeth all the better. Branagh take note, Hull Truck is up there with the big boys.Listening (while painting): Nick Cave - There She Goes My Beautiful World; Vic Godard (my favourite singing postman) - Whats The Matter Boy; Hull FC getting thumped in the Challenge Cup Final by St Helens - sorry boys.Watching: The Wire (season one); Galapagos (masterly); That Mitchell And Webb look (are they the new Punt and Dennis? Opinions welcomed.