Letter from the Founder
f you polled my friends, the consensus would be that I have a penchant for what is colloquially known as the ‘French exit’ or ‘Irish goodbye’, both of which mean the same thing: the departure from a social event without announcement or farewells. To me, it has always felt simpler to head for , hang a left, and make a beeline for the exit than to endure the shaking of hands, the kissing of cheeks, and the accompanying small talk. But at the same time I’ve always admired those with the capacity comes to mind, when he says to Ingrid Bergman: “I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.” Or Sydney Carton in Dickens’ , who declared: “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest I go to than I have ever known.” Or Harry ‘Breaker’ Harbord Morant, who, when faced with the firing squad after being wrongly indicted for treason during the Boer war, simply exclaimed, “Shoot straight, you bastards!” And so I thought I would take inspiration from these individuals and bid you a proper adieu from my role as the majority owner of magazine.
