Don’t expect anything other than a tirade of expletives about London Black Cab clutches for the next few days. I’ll return to the regular musings about coca cola and American life in a week or so, depending on how long clutch surgery takes. So the Austin Morris Workshop Manual for the Taxi and Hire Car […]
The Tyranny of Presumption Read More »
I’m not a fan of organized religion. It’s not for me. Or disorganized religion for that matter. I like the idea of a philosophy rather than a religion, but for the most part I’m an apatheist. Which brings me to the pie-shaped slice of intrigue which is the title of this post. For the last
Let Go of Competition, Judgement and Expectation Read More »
So my 1967 Black Cab has suicide doors in the back, which has two implications: I can open the rear passenger door from the driver’s compartment by reaching through the driver’s window. People shouldn’t get out while we’re moving. I have never run off on a taxi-fare, let me just state that for the record,
