AT THE START OF MY SECONDyear studying PP (I had by then blessedly dropped the E) at Oxford, I remember a bright-eyed fresher approaching my philosophy tutor, a man by the name of Bob Hargrave, in the bar. Having successfully identified A Philosopher, the new student eagerly asked: “What is the most profound existential question you can ask yourself?”
Taking a drag on his cigarette before flicking the ash into the already-full tray, Bob () looked across the table and replied: “Well I’m 58 and my health is on the wane, and so I have to ask myself: have I
