All Our Heroes, All Our Great Stories

It's True: One Of The Things That I've Always Thought About American Society Is That You Never Get The Sort Of Natural Politicisation Of Class Consciousness That You Would Get In The United Kingdom Or Even In Australia.

Our Prime Minister Could Embrace And Forgive The People Who Killed Our Beloved Sons And Fathers, And So He Should, But He Could Not, Would Not, Apologise To The Aboriginal People For 200 Years Of Murder And Abuse. The Battle Against The Turks, He Said In Gallipoli, Was Our History, Our Tradition. The War Against The Aboriginals, He Had Already Said At Home, Had Happened Long Ago. The Battle Had Made Us; The War That Won The Continent Was Best Forgotten

Writers Are Always Envious, Mean-minded, Filled With Rage And Envyat Other's Good Fortune. There Is Nothing Like The Failure Of A Close Friend To Cheer Us Up.

Nostalgia Is Something We Think Of As Fuzzy. But It's Pain. Pain Concerning The Past.

(from The Story The Last Days Of A Famous Mime) He Said Nothing. He Was Mildly Annoyed At Her Presumption: That He Had Not Thought This Many, Many Times Before. With Perfect Misunderstanding She Interpreted His Passivity As Disdain. Wishing To Hurt Him, She Slapped His Face. Wishing To Hurt Her, He Smiled Brilliantly.