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If The Bourne Legacy had breathed new life into the franchise the two-word review would be Bourne Vita. • “Have-you-read?” lists let you count books read when your brain was pink and ill-formed; ones you’ve forgotten; ones you never understood. • Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth ends with Lily Bart spending her last $20 on a derringer and gunning down everyone who did her wrong. That’s from Funhouse, the Quentin Tarantino script Tony Scott was supposed to film. It concludes with a shootout on the deck of the Titanic. • I’m trying the Paleocene Diet: it’s based on ancestral adaptive nutritional needs. Every meal is fruit or insects and I only eat at night. • Plain burlesque is getting tired. I predict hot new trends: burlesque on stilts, canine burlesque, and, inevitably, canine stilt burlesque. • Snobby Evelyn Waugh would pretend to think Julian Huxley (then head of UNESCO) was still at London Zoo and ask, “How are the giraffes?” Arthur Evelyn St John Waugh was his full name. Cannot understand why he went by Evelyn Waugh. He could have been St Waugh. • Coffee smells great and tastes nasty; it’s the anti-durian. In fact if you mix coffee and durian they are annihilated in a huge explosion. • “You can’t go past Meryl Streep”, opines the person behind me. But she’s a master of disguise! You probably have, unbeknownst! • Oscar Wilde really needs to work on his aphorisms. Some of them are longer than 140 characters. • My old high school is merging with its hated arch-rival. The resulting bloodshed should solve any overcrowding problems. • Chatham Island time is 45 minutes ahead of mainland New Zealand. There’s just one other time zone with a 45-minute offset: Nepal. • The ancient Greeks imported their papyrus from Byblos; hence bibliography, bibliotheque, and Bible. Now that’s successful branding. • The great tonsure debate was resolved, in favour of the Anglo-Saxons, by the Synod of Whitby in 664. Anglo-saxon monks shaved the crowns of their heads, whereas Irish monks shaved all the front half. Like the world’s most extreme mullet. • Nostradamus successfully predicted the date and place of his own death! Less impressively, it was: “Tomorrow, right here in my sickbed.” • Wilfrid Blunt, in the preface to his history of italic handwriting, includes a shoutout to his homies Sir Sydney Cockerell and the Marquess of Cholmondeley. (While Blunt was writing Sweet Roman Hand, his younger brother Anthony was busy upstaging him by spying for the Russians.) • @adzebill

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