Love eventually

So pardon me for ripping off the catchiest (although similarly literal to the others) title of a Christmas romantic comedy, yet another esteemed British institution. I had previously not talked about the beautiful, manicured lawns of England, their imperialist doings and other such topics familiar to great travel writers such as Paul Theroux or Bill Bryson, because obviously they would be able to do (and have done) a much better job at saying the same things about them as I would have been able to, without the lunatic and rambling sentences. So no, the fix for laughing at the fascist way the English maintain their grass will not be found here (though I must put in a good word that people who live in the lush tropics should try to understand the obsession of people in colder climes to actually get some plant to grow properly in the outrageously hostile climate. Of course, this turned out to be grass).

But indeed there are several other (more serious) mainstays involved with making fun of the British, in the same vein as how the Jerries are seen as rote and sexless, or the French weak-willed people with bad accents. It is possible, living amongst these people even for a short time to pick out, as one would a hair from one's soup, all the shortcomings that they have, and that also have been satirised (but usually with goodwill, unless you are French) by countless generations of authors and film-makers.

Talking about such (minor) irritations isn't going to change anything, and rehashing old comments is a tired business, much like thinking about how to use up dinner leftovers. This is also why I have not talked about such issues (and hence have had rather limited content), and this is also in the spirit of trying to grow to enjoy the place (or drink enough to be able to ignore it completely). I only realised this as I sat along K—Parade, being free enough to watch everything go by at its languorous English pace; Maybe it was the fact that I would be leaving it for home soon Somehow, even though the germ of the feeling was just forming I knew I would finally see past its obvious defects.

Analogously, this was like the slightest of twitches I felt in my eyes (I think it was the soundtrack that did it) near the end of Love actually (and no it was not due to staring at the screen for a straight two hours). Whilst I won't be getting any "epiphanies" (actual quote) from it anytime soon, likewise, I hope to be talking about it in a more pleasant manner as I would like to do for here. Indeed, it is love eventually.