This is wear are tail begins

I was accused of mistaking the secret of facism for its secretiveness, engineered no doubt by my remarkable impatience in pushing through the spell checker without due attention, turning, presumably "secretive" into "secret of", thus rendering the whole into a mystical, sacred and well, strangely inspiring allusion: "secret of fascism". It ought to be a film by Victor Erice.

It was, in fact, quite deliberately engineered. Otherwise the final dénouement of fascism being revealed as an entity in itself rather than living vicariously through thugs wouldn’t work. Considering the destruction of medieval Berne and its imminent replacement with brutalist concrete monstrosities, as a result of people raging against our urban dystopias, perhaps Fritz Lang would be a more pertinent film maker too.

Strangely enough I read about the riots in The Guardian which is almost worse than wistful reminiscing about Luzern. Perhaps Switzerland is my Shere Khan, hunting me until I fully move on into the Orient. I’m not sure I’ll be following in the steps of Kipling, but these are still early days.

The rugby has been fantastic; the only downside is that England vs. Les Bleus translates to 3 on Sunday morning over here. However, the vast numbers of Kiwis and Aussies to bait more than makes up for it. Our Irish contingent is no less pleased and has become as French as she will become soon!