Stupid French, Abominable Italians … Sensible Americans
Just got home from teaching a few classes, about to head out in a few minutes for s’more. I decided to take a break from reading about the Fourth Crusade. It’s fascinating, but I can only take so much about stooooopid French and abominable Italians slaughtering Christian brethren and destroying one of the most beautiful cities in history.
So today, on the bus and train between classes, I read P. J. O’Rourke’s Holidays in Hell. I’ve only read a few of his books and articles, but I’m always impressed at how he can deliver hard, hurting truth with a punch and a tickle, so you feel sick at the horrors he relates but can’t stop laughing about them.
The copy of HiH I’m carrying around with me now is autographed by the great man himself, and it’s actually Papa’s, but I’m going to take it with me when I move out of here (shh, don’t tell … if he finds out about it and doesn’t want me to take it, I’ll get down on my hands and knees and beg). O’Rourke is another one of those authors that I like so much that I have a need to own every book he’s written. I’ve already done that with a few authors, and am working my way through some more.
K, gotta run.
emethhesed
emeth.hesed
