It's funny that all you Shielas and Bruces meet in Ozzie-land and you spend all night gabbing about a pommy writer and a pommy kids' TV programme.
It isn't ironic, because, unfortunately (for Australia), most of the best writers and shows are British. You know what is the best Australian show ever, IMO? Kingswood Country
, and even that's not as good as many British shows.
And BTW, Doctor Who
isn't completely British. It was conceived partly by a Canadian, the first producer was a woman, an Australian wrote the first story, another Australian wrote the theme music, and an Indian directed the first story. So there.
Well, only after we had finished discussing the finer points of Australian Geographics's Employment policy, the inablity of Max Brenner to be accurately sign posted, education, relevant back stories, the benefits of working in mining towns, other sci fi writers, American choclolate, the changes to Cadbury chocolate, Lindt, adding peanut butter to other foods, our hopes for the future and World Peace. We'd left by 5.30pm as it was getting dark.
We're saving Nietzsche for next time.
I don't recall the Aussie Geo and mining town stuff (must've been after I left), but I can confirm the other ones.
As far as I can tell, the discussion about Max Brenner's lack of signage was pretty much me whinging and bitching as much as I could without resorting to expletives (normally, I swear like a sailor, but there was a child present, and while I am for unconventional child education, expletives is not part of that curriculum).
We also discussed, briefly, our opinions of Pratchett's other works, as well as theatre adaptations we had attended.
Four minutes? That's ages! What if I get bored? I need a television, a couple of books. Anyone for chess? Bring me knitting.
-The Eighth Doctor, defiant in the face of death, in Doctor Who: The Night of the Doctor