In the American Conservative, Leon Hadar asks, ‘Is it possible that a homeless and failed artist from Vienna, a paranoid gangster from Georgia, and a paedophile and drug addict from Beijing led to the ruin of millions and millions of lives?’ Hadar is reviewing a book by William Pfaff which he compares to drinking a good French wine. ‘You have to be in the right mood and sip it unhurriedly so as to appreciate the aroma and flavour.’ All I can add is that there’s nothing like a good French wine.
William Pfaff I have never met and know nothing about. I always read his column in the International Herald Tribune, however, because of his nostalgic view of life — one he tries to hide — and because of the disdain he has for those tiny little twerps who have been posing as tough guys these past few years.
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