It is Saturday night. You are walking towards the giant chromed door of your local cinema. Suddenly a young woman bursts out. "Fire, Fire," she yells. You do not stop to ask: is there a conflagration or is she shouting to distant friends the name of that nice restaurant in central Dublin? No. You run. And you are sensible to do so. The gains from being right are enormous; the costs of being wrong are tiny. This is not the time to consult either the lady or the Irish Good Food Guide.
More...
More...