No American can really figure out why, but oh well. We accept that the country that produced Rammstein
and the Tïesto-rrific LoveParade
embraces and honors the orange deity known as David Hasselhoff. Then we move on with our lives. The thing that gets me, however, is that such a national idiosyncrasy–the love of a celebrity–can start to become part of the fabric of a nation’s collective being. Part of their identity. Is there a checklist to being a national? If so, the American one would have a lot of unflattering points. As I was told in my time abroad Americans can be identified by their: logo shirts, sneakers, obnoxiousness, sense of entitlement, and loudness.
What is German then?