“So how many of us here are virgins?” asked my table companion, and four, five…six hands went up.

It seems a lot of us at the launch of The Fabrication of Aboriginal History Volume Three had never been to a Quadrant event before. Although I had hoped some of the people at my table were part of the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy, most of the people I spoke to were regular people from the suburbs: timber-yard workers, an advertising copywriter, a geologist, a medical exporter, a salesman, a software developer, a blogging wannabe.

Asking around, it turned out we were all at Keith Windschuttle’s book launch because we admired the work of Keith Windschuttle. As the Americans would say – go figure.

Some of the younger inner-city types at my table admitted they felt they couldn’t tell their friends about the event they were attending. As one young lady accompanying her partner said: “One friend of mine who found out where we were going suggested I should break up with my partner over it. She was half-joking – I think.”

A bonus on the night was the appearance of John Howard.  He was a ball of energy, greeting old friends and helping elderly guests to get around. Clearly his legendary ability to work a room, remember names and faces and greet strangers warmly is completely undimmed. All around the place were familiar but sagging faces of Ministers from former governments, all now – more than ever – looking like the caricatures cartoonists once drew of them. Time is nothing if not a joker.

Andrew Bolt spoke passionately about the myth of the stolen generations with particular reference to his experiences growing up in the Northern Territory. The thing that has perpetuated this myth, he says, is that believing you were the victim of racist policies would be preferable for many people over believing the hurtful reality of being abandoned by your parents. For this reason, the people involved are worthy of sympathy.

However, as Andrew points out, anyone who reads this book is likely to have much less sympathy for the academics who have perpetuated the myth. For fear of repeating the horrors of something that never happened, children have since died. The kids who died for an idea have names, and their details are tragically scattered through the coroners’ reports.

Volume Three, said Andrew, is even better and more important than Volume One.

The end of the speech was the cue for old blokes with red cheeks to stand up and argue about how good Charles Perkins was at soccer, which they did with much aplomb.

Personal highlights for me were finding myself sitting next to Professor Bob Carter and meeting Andrew Bolt. However, what made for a most enjoyable evening was the chance to sit down with a group of people I’d never met who rejected a night of yelling at the television in favour of a decent meal and a chinwag. Seriously, you ought to try it some time.

I never did find the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy – maybe I was at the wrong table – but the bloke from the Marriott who sold me the $4.50 orange juice was smiling on my way out.

(PS Got your copy of Fabrication, Volume Three? Visit here or demand one from your local bookshop.)