I have just had a most refreshing exchange of messages on facebook. I am pretty well fed up with this as a method of communicating with people, but there are some genuine friends for whom this seems to be their preferred method of keeping in touch. So I stick at it, gritting my teeth at the deluge of advertising and other rubbish that manages to intrude into my facebook feed. Tonight, however, I have finished my daily trawl through it with an uncharacteristic smile on my face.
A good friend in Zagreb had posted earlier a series of very sharp criticisms of the Croatian head of government, to which I responded by suggesting that it might be refreshing to do a swap. At least we would each have something new to complain about. My offer referred, of course, to our Prime Minister Boris Johnson.* I was highly amused to receive her reply today, asking “Who is Boris Johnson?”
How encouraging it is to hear about a part of the world in which Boris Johnson matters so little that his name is not known! Reflecting on this exchange, however, I did fall to wondering whether there is any part of the world in which the knaves do not rule.
*I’ll not be sidetracked into listing the numerous reasons why I would be delighted to see the back of him.