THE PARTY

    I attended my first Georgetown cocktail party last night . . . OK it was up the street a bit from Georgetown but you get the drift . . . I met notable notables and people who stalk the corridors of power . . . I was introduced "this is Sean Linnane" and more than once I was astonished to hear people say, "Oh yes, I read your work."

    "You DO?"

    "Oh yes, we love you over at Frum Forum."

    "Oh yeah, I get rave reviews." (If you've never lurked over there I encourage you to do so - the comments I get from the trolls that infest that site are a scream).

    The crowd was populated with the Oh-hello-DAH-LINK-kisee-kissee-air-kiss-on-both-cheeks types - I guess they regarded me as some sort of barbarian from the outlying provinces (which is what I am); an interesting curiosity, like a talking dog.

    "So what do you think of the Wikileaks thing?"

    "Best thing that could have possibly happened."

    "REALLY?"

    "Oh HELL YEAH - now the word is finally out on the street that the Saudis couldn't care less about the Palestinians and the Israelis; what they're worried about is Iran, and why won't we do anything about it."

    One guy surprised me with an incredibly insightful question: "Ok, Green Berets, Rangers, Delta Force - what's the difference and how are they related?"

    I actually know a few of these Washington types - "Meg" Meghashyam Mali is from India. We share a common interest in Hinduism - he because he is Hindu and me because my personal philosophy and worldview embraces many of the principles of the Hindu religion. Anyway Meg and I were yucking it up, trying to charm the young ladies with Peter Sellers routines from one of the best movies ever made: The Party.





    I don't know if the ladies appreciated our efforts - you've really got to see the film to appreciate the whole Birdie Num Num thing . . .





    Good thing there wasn't an intercom nearby . . .





    The Party is possibly the funniest film ever made; dry English wit meets Hollywood, pulled off by the genius of Peter Sellers. The whole premise of the plot - a clumsy, hapless Indian trying to make it in Hollywood single-handedly blows up the whole set to a Gunga Din remake, gets himself blacklisted, in the process of which his name gets added to the guest list for one of those high-end Los Angeles parties, and the insanity just takes off from there . . .

    Anyway it sure was funny hearing a bona fide Hindu who speaks perfect English with no Indian accent, doing a Peter Sellers Indian accent. While we're talking of Meg Mali, it turns out he's a hero.

    Which just goes to show, you never know where you'll find them . . .



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