I title this post, thus, because I am, as some sharp-eyed detractors have enjoyed pointing out, and some supporters have suspected, something of a poseur. I enjoy, shall we say, a 'rotund' literary style with more than its fair share of embellishments and flourishes, confirming the worst aspects that George Orwell warned us all against. Sorry, but I can't help myself. There is something about the relative anonymity of 'blogdom' that invites a certain degree of pretence, a desire to show off and cut a figure that only miserably fits the reality. In a small plea of mitigation I can point to several instances where I made clear that I am, in fact, merely a semi-educated product of the lower-middle classes. I don't know why I bothered because, as stated above, it is pitiably clear from my writings that, intellectually-speaking, I am not quite sure which knife and fork to use.
What makes it even clearer, dammit, is when I read and compare myself to a real 'class act', like 'Deogolwulf' over at 'The Joy of Curmudgeonry". His last two posts on, respectively, a certain Dr Cholodenko, a 'fruit and nut case' rarely seen or heard outside of a Monty Python sketch; and Polly Toynbee, an easy target, to be sure, but still, the exquisite pleasure of watching a expert 'surgeon' dismember her with such aplomb. His tone is relentlessly sardonic but I sense behind his mockery a passion that is held strictly under control. Were he ever to lose patience and find a Kalshnikov to hand, the results, one feels, might be, er, interesting!
Anyway, no-one does it better than 'Deogolwulf', so, 'go read and enjoy', as our American cousins might put it.