What, dear friends, has become of our culture? Was not this once a country where jazz beatniks rubbed shoulders with aged philosophers in smoky cafeterias? Did not dapper men in horn-rimmed spectacles once explain the mysteries of the world to us via our crackling wireless sets? Were not public libraries the places where all human knowledge was to be found, at the fingertips of avuncular librarians swaddled in tweed? Where has all this gone?
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But fear not, dear hearts, for there is something in the air… Can you smell it? It is a blend of bergamot, old leather and Cavendish tobacco, and it smells of Revolution. The Tweed Revolution. The web site you are about to enter contains words and images that may induce excessive languidity and an increase in levels of panache, leading to an overall rise in self-esteem. So sink into your deepest armchair, pour yourself a gin and tonic, light a cigarillo, and prepare to join the sophisticated world of The Chap

¶ 7:00 p.m.