I'm feeling particularly venomous so no picture today. There's no better cure for wisdom than wisdom itself. You can't ask for more, not when you live among those who are content in their superficial understanding of the world and its mysterious ways.

To backtrack. Following a fairly interesting talk by two PR operatives whose main claim on my attention is the number of years they have spent processing stories for media companies, I went to drinks with a colleague and her friend. It felt like a set-up.

"You must meet this interesting man. He's so intelligent and well-read."

I pity the poor woman. The other one had a few too many and in any case can't hold her liquor. But this one's two-dimensional mind couldn't keep up with her sensitive heart. It's all too common. The big event remains the Dismissal (1975). But despite her vague leftie sentiments (you couldn't call them ideas) she is doing a postgrad course.

Aspirational after all. How to tell her socialism is dead and the king is yet to ascend the throne of glory? What chance did she have? 1649? (Are you sure?) And before the Enlightenment we had the Renaissance? (Are you sure?) Oh, yes, of course these large, blocky categories are useful in preliminary discussions before you start looking at the detail...

But how to discuss large, blocky categories with a woman who thinks Australians have a 'right' to a 'fair go'? A what? 1852? 1789? Mary Shelley's mother was who? And the husband's name? 'Real' scholarship started when?

At least they knew who Jane Austen was. The movie was great. And Darcy is so handsome!