From The Centrifuge

It seems that in this life (as opposed to which other life? Or is that a question for another, perhaps less sober enquiry?), no matter how professional, perky or enthusiastic you are, how polite and efficient you may be, whether at work or in your personal life, there is always going to be someone or something that quickly and effortlessly, possibly even disinterestedly, turns up and makes you look like a buffoon. I can point to innumerable examples in both scenarios mentioned, not least and most recently having striven to set up a project workshop, against all the odds and fervent opposition from nearly everyone who may have become involved, scraping and bowing and making ludicrously rash promises which, in true heroic style, I had to keep or else, only for the turd who was delivering it to forget to show up. Quel bouffon . But when it comes to the intellectual life (a life I can only wish I had and therefore one unlikely to show me up in public) it is doubly galling to find tha...