I didn’t think I’d ever find myself uttering the words in that headline, but I’m afraid those looking for further evidence of my ideological drift to the dark side will be disappointed. I do have to express my heartfelt gratitude to the old curmudgeon, however it’s for his guidance as a literary rather than an ideological mentor.
Shortly after I left the New Statesman, I found myself wandering through Waterstones on Trafalgar Square. I find bookshops very comforting in times of trouble. I was in something of a daze and found myself in the detective fiction department. Now this something unusual for me, as I rarely read the stuff, considering myself a little more high brow in my tastes.
It was at this moment, lost and directionless in a part of a bookshop where I rarely tread, that I bumped into big
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