So here we are in London again because we’re now at the do-it-while-you-still-can stage of life. More warm wide-armed hugs, more long talks and long walks and drinks in lovely old pubs with our lovely daughter.
And meanwhile the world is once more in one of its assume-the-brace-position stages.
We turned on the BBC news on Monday morning to all the coverage of Typhoon Trump: all the markets in meltdown, all the inevitable carnage. Does he care at all who might get hurt? As if. He may actually believe in his deluded fantasies of a reversion to an earlier and simpler economic and industrial timer time. But the markets clearly don’t.
