Hubris, humour, Hugh

It was suggested to me the other day by my uncle Hugh that certain comments I have written on this site about my failure to inherit a fortune from a certain relative might sound like sour grapes.

I have much respect for my uncle Hugh (notwithstanding the odd vagary in our relationship over the years). He has a point.

I have also described my relatives in rather scathing terms in another post here. Not really in the spirit of de mortuis nil nisi bonum. However, it’s not my intention on this site to honour the dead. The dead can take care of themselves. What’s that you say? Well, no, I suppose they can’t. But I should be very surprised if they cared what I wrote about them anyway.

On the other hand, living descendants of W. K. D’Arcy, the geezer who built a fortune but neglected to put any of it my way, might be discomfited by me niggling about this point. Continue reading Hubris, humour, Hugh