We’re talking about the “subtle maneuvers” we were using to try to drag the charming-but-antediluvian Isle of Arran into the modern era and to try to prevent Lady Jean from hobbling off to the poorhouse.
Before I describe the “subtle maneuvers” we orchestrated on Lady Jean’s behalf, I want to emphasize that these weren’t all my ideas. They were an amalgam of many conversations with the accountants, estate managers, attorneys, Charles Fforde, and Lady Jean herself. I was merely a kind of midwife presiding over their birth.
Whenever I traveled to Europe in those days it always seemed to me that I was moving not just through space, but also through time. The Europeans always seemed to be two or three decades behind America, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse.
That evening, after our tour of Arran and another whisky-soaked evening, Charles walked me outside Strabane. He was carrying, for some reason, a large bowl of eggs he’d taken from the refrigerator.
My inauspicious arrival on the Isle of Arran seemed to have perturbed Lady Jean Fforde not at all.
As I dutifully did every morning, I listened to my overnight voicemails. My boss was saying something like this: “Stop what you’re doing and get yourself to the Isle of Arran, and don’t dilly-dally!”
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
The risk is that moderates will be squeezed out as right and left inflame politics and provoke each other to move to the extremes. The Economist
Around the world, radicalization is making coalition and consensus much harder. Gideon Rachman in the Financial Times