Some recent Australian cultural trends—massive Islamic immigration, for instance—are so obvious that even an economist can detect them. Others occur so stealthily that they attract no attention, until you suddenly look around and think, Hey, whatever happened to such-and-such? Ireland’s influence on Australia falls into the latter category.
Dickens’ Great Expectations obviously has an ironic title, and to appreciate the point, we have to read the book alertly and even think about what we remember. Such an approach would not bear fruit with the Karl Rove romance, however. His book has a title that is the opposite of ironic, whatever that might be.
Thinking that putting down roots in new soil is somehow a betrayal of the people and the place from which we came, we close ourselves in and grow too slowly. Perhaps without even realizing it, we live as if we’re strangers in a strange land. Five years pass, then ten, then fifteen, and our sights are still set on the old folks at home.
As everyone knows, Greece became a member of the eurozone on the back of a lie. The colonels’ regime had collapsed, Greek politicians were nervous, and that pseudo-French aristocrat Giscard promised entry to a country that is more Middle Eastern than European, but with olive oil. Entry meant no more tanks surrounding Parliament at midnight—rather a pity, actually, because they kept some semblance of law and order.
More in this category
- Driving Home Their Point
- Where the Demons Dwell: The Antichrist Right
- Atomic Anniversary
- How To Succeed in Banking Without Really Trying
- Recovering Our Roots—August 2010