I just finished an Aussie novel, but I can't remember his name or the exact title. Help me out, George: Watching the Stones? Walking the Stones? It's quite good, if rather anti-British.
I can't resist: an exerpt from Experience by Martin Amis, a snippet of conversation with his father, Kingsley Amis:
- I finally worked out why I don't like Americans.
I waited.
- Because everyone there is either a Jew or a hick.
- ... What's it like being mildly anti-Semitic?
- It's all right.
- No, what's it feel like being mildly anti-Semitic? Describe it.
- What's it feel like? Well. Very mild, as you say. If I'm watching the end of some new arts programme I might notice the Jewish names in the credits and think, Ah, there's another one. Or: Oh, I see. There's another one.
- And that's all?
- More or less. You just notice them. You wouldn't want anyone to do anything about it. You'd be horrified by that.
It's not how loudly I laughed; it's that I luaghed about it every 3 minutes, for hours- it was just too ridiculous to get past. Ever have one of those? Okay, it's not that funny, and it's time to stop laughing and get on with life. Then you laugh again.