Thank Heavens for Horace
As many readers will doubtless be aware, I don’t so much bring a blowtorch to my criticisms of the follies that beset my fellow human beings, rather a flame thrower.
While reading The Nation on 3 June I came across Horace Beasley’s splendid piece of somewhat gentler Trumpophobia (sic) satire as I quaffed coffee and gobbled my porridge and milk.
It made me laugh and, for me at least, temporarily set the world to rights. However a sobering thought is that, as Stephen Colbert puts it: “I have jokes; he (Trump) has the launch codes.”
It’s rather too early now,
but later tonight I’ll raise
a glass of Sauvignon Blanc
in salute Of Beasley’s offering. 12.5 per cent alcohol, by
volume. With meat dishes,
and I don’t care about cuisine
protocols.
Dr Frank
Bangkok
