It's that time of year when I lose the sense of being at the centre of the world which alone helps us to steer a course of sorts through life. On the radio, news item follows news item at alarming speed, each ghastlier than the one before. No sooner has my addled brain started to process one horror than the newsreader flings another one at me. By the time he or she reaches the third item I have forgotten what the first one was, mercifully perhaps.
Added to this sense of bemused inadequacy is a complete inability to summon up anything resembling a point of view except for purely cosmetic purposes.
Added to this sense of bemused inadequacy is a complete inability to summon up anything resembling a point of view except for purely cosmetic purposes.
Probably why so many people read the sorts pages first Barnaby although until recently that tended not always to be especially uplifting from a British viewpoint.
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