While I was staying with a graduate school chum in the England's Cotswolds this past summer, I was introduced to the comedy of Catherine Tate, a hilarious British comedian and actress. One of her pieces was "right up my alley," as they say, because its comedy hinges on the lurid magic and cruel logic of stereotypes.
I have to admit the skit leaves me speechless (and laughing!)--having written a book on the labyrinthine machinations of stereotypes, you would think I could hold forth in broad strokes of sophisticated pedantry, but the well is dry. What do you make of this?