Sunday, December 08, 2002
Self-platitude is the torment of a nefarious pariah
It's getting near Christmas. I know this because I've just been on the phone to various relatives and my young cousin and his dad are warming up for all those seasonal gatherings by playing a home-made parlour game. They've dusted off a box of magnetic word fridge magnets which I bought David when he was perhaps nine years old, mistakenly opting for the genius edition which was perhaps a bit advanced for him at the time. So only today, years later has that particular gift come into its own. Roars of laughter as they decide that the best sentence they've so far come up with is: "Self-platitude is the torment of a nefarious pariah". There's probably hours of theological reflection in that. I shall leave it for others to do it.