"I had been backed onto the stage unknowing, while the crowd roared. The obvious solution to this was the BBC, which sucks talent like bits of fluff into that big white building, where it's safe forever. But I had my tattered pride. In fact, my whole array of virtues was intact; only the man behind them was missing. I didn't really give a damn anymore whether I was English or American, but the U.S. was still the prairie of record, the place where the garbled soul of Chatworth could re-create itself. Or failing that, become famous.
Because, let's face...
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