It’s strange how the subconscious works: I wake up with that famous line from The Hollow Men in my head then only later remember the date, November 5th, and how Eliot alluded to Guy Fawkes in the poem. It also fits my attitude to the blog today because I’m sitting here and haven’t seen anything that’s piqued my interest enough to post on, barring the best joke on Twitter these last few days:
A German, a Greek, a Portuguese and an Irishman go into a bar. The German pays.
And this is the best piece of journalism out of the LatAm region over the last 48 hours, a gonzo report from Reuters on how Brazilian farmers get their produce to market which is more about the country’s creaking transport system than the corn hauled and well worth a read. Anyway, I’m going to watch Berdych and Murray.