Bionic bore

After wading through 646 pages of narcissistic gush and breathtaking vulgarity in the accents of Dr Kissinger and Dr Strangelove, I am consoled by the thought that the ordeal has not been entirely a waste of effort. Frequently able to put the book down, yet obliged every time but one to lift it up again, I have found the exercise has wonderfully enlarged, defined and beautified my deltoids, trapezii, latissimus dorsi and other muscles too intimate to mention. Now, like Arnold Schwarzenegger, I can gaze into looking glasses with intensified Gemutlichkeit.

If I obey ‘Arnold’s Rules’ — especially the advice, ‘When someone tells you “no”, you should hear “yes” ’ and ‘Don’t overthink’ — will I, too, in the brief period at my disposal, be able to become a champion bodybuilder? Will I also become a shrewd dealer in real estate, a multimillionaire action hero in motion pictures, a political leader of the free enterprise system, an author of an autobiography like this one, which he calls ‘an international event’, and a master of ‘joke-telling skills’? Perhaps not.