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I am not the person to ask about how post-mortum matters *ought* to go because I see that everything is changing; the Victorians have finally had their noses put out of joint and the la canaille--who were always so keen on what a loaf weighted-- have emerged from the Paris metro in jeans and running shoes content with Burger King and a future involves a lighter kind of baguette, bought from a supermarket. None of this I understand, so I am going off to a cowfield in Cornwall to think it all through.
Good wishes,
David Ritchie, Kent |
