I think it's high time we face the facts: I am an anglophile.
It's been coming on for a while now. It probably started with books. Jane Austen. Harry Potter. Tolkien, Lewis. All the great British classics.
Then I moved on to BBC TV shows. Doctor Who. Sherlock. Keeping Up Appearances.
Then I started reading the BBC news, and the occasional Economist article.
Then more TV. As Time Goes By. Yes, Minister and Yes, Prime Minister.
But that wasn't enough. I just couldn't satisfy my craving for British humor, mystery, and global news coverage. I started listening to podcasts: BBC Documentaries, More or Less, Witness, Intelligence Squared. The News Quiz.
More TV: Poirot, Endeavour, Foyle's War. More books, branching out into the rest of the commonwealth: Artemis Fowl, Jonathan Stroud, Robin McKinley, Terry Pratchett. My appetite for UK media became insatiable.
Now I've branched out into radio shows. Cabin Pressure, John Finnemore's Souvenir Program, Welcome to Our Village, Please Invade Quietly. And my calendar for the year is England. Next thing you know, I'll be looking for jobs there and planning a move across the pond. Where will it end?
I blame it on genetics, myself. It's my English roots. You can take the English out of England (and deposit them in a colony on the other side of the planet, let them get comfy, rebel, and start a new country, and spend 200 years making a mess of things), but you just can't take England out of the English. Or something like that. Yeah. Hail Britannia.
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