I am but a weak
vessel, reader, ever ready to flounder, like the Titanic. My faults are many,
my life was not the smoothest, many are the stitches which I drop. Yes,
some folks call me a fool, as did that Liverputian spoilsport yesterday in a
comment to my Zapruder post. Others say I am deeply ignorant, like the
Anonymous Aficionado who can never keep silent when I write the word ‘blood
sport’. Others yet again – like the famous Jerry who stands up for the honour
of the Dinosaurs – accuse me of ‘Word Wizzardry’ (sic) and Ad Hominem
arguments… Oh, yes, go ahead, all of you: throw your First Stones, each and
every one! See what it brings you!
I am but a man,
dear reader. A frail old man, mortal, defenceless, bent with age, burdened with
past mistakes and memories. But to show you that I may perhaps be forgiven my
weaknesses, let me offer you this snapshot taken in the beautiful town of
Tomar, in central Portugal. This gorgeous graffiti, itself a most eloquent example
of what it states, says
To Herr
Is Uman
And to forgive is the vine.
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