A Dud

There was this really bad book I had to review, and I kept putting it off and off because I hated the idea of having to review it. In the end, I was forced to work on the review all the way from St Louis to Valencia. I finally finished and submitted it, so I feel a huge sense of relief.

It’s one of those books that people publish when they need a publication but don’t want to do the work. So they throw together a bunch of notes for undergraduate lectures and call the end result a book. It’s not something I’m assuming, by the way. The author says in the intro that this is class material.

I had been duped by the book’s title into accepting the review. And it turned out to be a dud.

This is me in Valencia in the famous red dress I had to grab at the airport:

I’m not hungover, I’m just tired from the trip, hence the sunglasses indoors.

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4 thoughts on “A Dud”

  1. You might like James Burnham. He was a Trotskyite who went right and wrote for National Review. His analysis of bureaucracy and elite power are up your alley.

    Like

  2. Actually, you just look relaxed in that pretty dress.

    But the photograph is horizontally flipped like a cell-phone mirror image, right? It looks like you’re carrying your purse on your left arm, and the hotel name printed on the glass doors should read left-to-right “Westin” from the outside view, not from inside the lobby.

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    1. “the hotel name printed on the glass doors should read left-to-right “Westin” from the outside view, not from inside the lobby”

      She is standing outside, but the lobby is actually a yuuuge atrium

      Like

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