This morning (albeit on a small scale) I discovered what it must have been like when the Wall was built in Berlin during 1961.
Like a hastily constructed (but nonethless totally black) firewall, The FT shut me off from all its lovely comment and opinion, analysis and blogs.
Martin Wolf and Gillian Tett, and guest writers ranging from Lord Mandelsod to Russian leader Medvedev: all have now shuffled offstage, and will appear by command performance only….otherwise known as £3.29 a week from your correspondent.
I’m thinking about it. And Roop, of course, is smiling that smile that says ‘my smiling is going to cost you all extra wonga from now on, suckers’.
They should name an Aussie town after Rupert the Sino-American Bear. They could call it Wonga-wonga-billa-bonga-money-monger-Murdoch. It could double as the country’s Eurovision entry, if someone moved Oz 8000 miles to the left.
On second thoughts, maybe not.