"Posturing Wind and Rubbish"
Years ago, on my first trip to London, I happened to meet the Guardian's eminence grise Michael Billington (is there any living theater critic who's been at it as long as he? Feingold?). We had drinks and I found him unfailingly cordial. In years since, though, he's come to represent for some of my fellow bloggers the quintessence of British snobbery. This recent piece, a low blow, struck me the same way, and prompte…