Note

And then, in 1788, a group of people who, just yesterday, were wandering pastoralist herdsmen on the Russian steppes, intruded on that world at Botany Bay. They had come to this sacred place on the underside of the world because they wanted to use it as a prison for petty thieves. Within a millisecond, almost all the Australians were dead, and the Yamnaya herdsmen had built something else over their graves, a sunnier, dumber version of Britain thrown up on an imaginary continent, where they say things like ‘fair suck of the sav’ or ‘I’m not here to fuck spiders,’ and end their sentences with ‘hey,’ and throw prawns on the barbie, and marry each other at first sight.