Everyday Newspaper Titles (Zzzzzz)
Do not waste your time counting sheep; if you’re having trouble settling in for your long winter’s nap, you might find newspaper titles as sedating as Seconal: the “Gazette,” the “Times,” the “Examiner,” the “Post,” the “Tribune,” the “Sun,” the “Star,” the “Journal,” the “News”… and then the hyphenated titles, formed by newspaper mergers: “News-Tribune,” “News-Gazette,” “Journal-Star,” “Sun-Times,” “Star-Tribune,”and on and on.
A handful of interesting exceptions do, however, cross my desk. I’m often puzzled by the “Sun-Star” and “Star-Sun” unions. Is it an unholy marriage of night with day, or a Rosicrucian signal: sun is star; star is sun; sun marries self, a terrible autogamy and its dread progeny? Imagine waking every morning, or returning home every evening, to that Yeatsian horror: “[W]hat rough beast, its hour come round at last, / Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”(Oh, and, Merry Christmas, if you celebrate!)
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Alan Burns came from one of those families where the children all seem to have been remarkable (in personality or intellect), consequential, and ideologically irreconcilable. The Last Imperialist by Bruce Gilley might have been a nuanced study of one such family (like those captivating Mitford biographies—I think there have been almost a dozen so far). Or it could have been about the devout Roman Catholic and Anglo West Indian, from birth an establishment outsider, who made it his life mission to defend the very establishment that had rejected him. Instead, Gilley chose to write an improbable apologia of the British Empire, and while he does fold some biography into the polemic, he’s so entirely united with Burns in admiration for colonialism that the book devolves into pure encomium somewhere around page three. 
