My pal Becky just called me to vent about her class discussion on 9-11.
Her first words, after my, "hellooooo?" were, "I just cried in front of 14 high schoolers."
Poor americans, we are so weepy. There's some email joke circulating (or that circulated) showing each county's reaction to Zidane's totallylame headbutt that lost France the world cup, and America's reaction is, of course, thinking its a terrorist threat or something -- I, being american and all, don't really understand.
Its a dillema really, b/c you don't want to be the weepy american who over-importance-izes 9-11, but still, a little bit of you is like, "ow?" I'd be happier if they made fun of New Orleans and all that crap that went down, frankly. (NOLA's going to be fine eventually, though, if you asked me...or these guys. will you buy a shirt already?)
My friend emillie was just hanging out in a bar in the countryside of western france when some girl asked her if she knew anyone who died in the twin towers.
"Yes." she responded. (in french, b/c she's a gangsta french speaka)
Emilie's from quite near new york (in more than just a geographical sense, though her hometown in CT is super close as well) so she really did like, know know people.
"You know it was your fault." responded her kind French inquisitor.
Needless to say, Emilie had not much more to say to that lady.
To be fair, one of her teacher's daughters, when emilie was recounting the tale, said she would've punched that girl in the face. And I in no way am generalizing all of France's baguette-carrying legions of being so rude... in fact, most of them are reassuringly curious, sympathetic, and eager for you to prove wrong their vast misconceptions about the average american.
Still, I got this lovely little drawing (above) done for me by what is admittedly my worst class (as far as attitude, though some are really sweet, its a pity they're in a class full of hooligans, really -- been there before).
When I told them that was a little inappropriate, they, being sassy adolescents (19 years old, does that count?) told me they thought it was beautiful.
What's up with this? This is not where the 9-11 insensitivity stories end (at least in the classroom), but really there shouldn't be a beginning! .
Should I play the Pearl Harbor card? Should I say, would france draw pictures of a couple hundred men entombed in a warship at the bottom of the pacific and tell me its beautiful? Isn't that creepy?
I do realize that Pearl Harbor led to the US joining in the WW2, not some strange "war" on something. This is not an anti-war post, I'm just acknowledging that ww2 does not equal iraq or whatever we're calling it.
Still, the tragic loss of average citizens (and military men and women) just the same is equal, regardless of time, place, context....right?
It's annoying.
Plus, most of america has moved on from 9-11, and is trying to make the world a better place (and succeeding) despite crazy wars that send our friends to sand dunes to play smear the queer with al-quaeda -- or however the heck you spell it.
9-11 is in the past, and that is a blessing - the future is brighter than how the tiny chunk of noisy and rude french, with existentialist malaise and heaven knows what kind of tabacco dependency running through their veins, see it.
Peace in the middle east,
Lori
Showing posts with label french. Show all posts
Showing posts with label french. Show all posts
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Monday, January 08, 2007
There’s no Canada like French Canada
Thanks to Emilie, my south park ambassador, I now have the south park episode, Christmas In Canada, on my computer. Me and Doris watched it (she is amazing at English, and only needed me to translate Cartman’s crazy English every once in a while) and we agreed that the best part is when the French Canadian guy asks, “Would you like a mooo-stache?”
President of the Internet book
I read this book called the starfish and the spider, and it had a sortof incredibly hilarious part where this early internet dude is trying to pitch the Internet to some French business men, and they’re like, “Yees, but who eez zee President?” and the internet dude is like, “well actually there is no president” and the French are like, Sacre bleu, no president? We will not invest. So push comes to shove, and this guy is just like, “I am the President of the Internet.”
Oh, France.
This whole scenario is funny for many reasons, the least of which being that it all happened in France, the most of which being that it’s really really fun to tell people (or yourself) that you are president of the internet. In a sense, we all are! It feels good. Tell someone today that you are the president of the Internet. You are!
The book itself rules. It had a very cool, Tipping Point sortof thing going for itself. I remember that Dr. H told me that he thought Malcom Gladwell was some young punk thinking he knew what was up with the business world writing The Tipping Point. Famous last words, I think. I was sortof stunned to silence by someone thinking you had to be old to write/understand what seemed like pretty simple and compelling points made by Mr. G. I wish I’d told Dr. H that not liking the Tipping Point is sorta lame. Anyway, I totally dug the Tipping Point, and The Starfish and the Spider, while probs not as salient to everyday experience as The TP (haha), was super cool, and thought provoking in a major way. The part about the terrorists was like, whoa. I dug it! Thank GOD for amazon.com used books and affordable international shipping rates!
*Gift idea: Amazon.com gift certifs….so useful to me! *
Oh, France.
This whole scenario is funny for many reasons, the least of which being that it all happened in France, the most of which being that it’s really really fun to tell people (or yourself) that you are president of the internet. In a sense, we all are! It feels good. Tell someone today that you are the president of the Internet. You are!
The book itself rules. It had a very cool, Tipping Point sortof thing going for itself. I remember that Dr. H told me that he thought Malcom Gladwell was some young punk thinking he knew what was up with the business world writing The Tipping Point. Famous last words, I think. I was sortof stunned to silence by someone thinking you had to be old to write/understand what seemed like pretty simple and compelling points made by Mr. G. I wish I’d told Dr. H that not liking the Tipping Point is sorta lame. Anyway, I totally dug the Tipping Point, and The Starfish and the Spider, while probs not as salient to everyday experience as The TP (haha), was super cool, and thought provoking in a major way. The part about the terrorists was like, whoa. I dug it! Thank GOD for amazon.com used books and affordable international shipping rates!
*Gift idea: Amazon.com gift certifs….so useful to me! *
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Morteau - land of watches and cows
And Emilie!
We had a lovely time in foggy Morteau! I arrived late thursday night, after I left early from the class that drew me a lovely picture.
Needless to say, another 10 minutes with those hooligans - 10 minutes that might make me late for a cheese drenched weekend in the french/swiss/german/alscace countryside - was really not on my to do list. So i left! And I got to Morteau in the fog and we went to the Terminus bar --- its called the Term if you are in the know like Miss Emilie. We chilled in the smoke-laden air, but before my contacts began to feel like Morteauciean sausages on my eyeballs, we met some locals!
Score!
They were nice dudes, and very encouraging of my not so perfect french, and keen to listen to emilie's pretty much perfect french.
The one guy who introduced himself awkwardly apologized for being of arab descent, which was a little weird b-c at first me and Em had no clue why he was apologizing and when we realized why he was apologizing....well, we still had no clue why he was apologizing.
A beer later we went back to Emilie's dorm and I passed out while she had to get up for class in the morning...yuck. But it was worth it, as now we had some local homeys.
After delicious morteauacien specialties with her buddy Ruven - "Groovy Ruvy" in some circles - we went to play board games like taboo and Uno with Emilie's teacher friend/colleagues. This one french dude kept on cussing like all the time in french and for that, I loved him. He was funny. What was his name Emilie? I tried some Pastis, and it looked like slime and tasted a little bit like licorice soap, but its something that I am not ashamed to say, I could enjoy from time to time with very little grimace.
The next day, we went for a walk? Did we? I can't remember, but it was a totally awesome walk. Hills and little houses, and random fountains and the obligatory WW1 memorial statue. And chickens, too!
We had a lovely time in foggy Morteau! I arrived late thursday night, after I left early from the class that drew me a lovely picture.
Needless to say, another 10 minutes with those hooligans - 10 minutes that might make me late for a cheese drenched weekend in the french/swiss/german/alscace countryside - was really not on my to do list. So i left! And I got to Morteau in the fog and we went to the Terminus bar --- its called the Term if you are in the know like Miss Emilie. We chilled in the smoke-laden air, but before my contacts began to feel like Morteauciean sausages on my eyeballs, we met some locals!
Score!
They were nice dudes, and very encouraging of my not so perfect french, and keen to listen to emilie's pretty much perfect french.
The one guy who introduced himself awkwardly apologized for being of arab descent, which was a little weird b-c at first me and Em had no clue why he was apologizing and when we realized why he was apologizing....well, we still had no clue why he was apologizing.
A beer later we went back to Emilie's dorm and I passed out while she had to get up for class in the morning...yuck. But it was worth it, as now we had some local homeys.
After delicious morteauacien specialties with her buddy Ruven - "Groovy Ruvy" in some circles - we went to play board games like taboo and Uno with Emilie's teacher friend/colleagues. This one french dude kept on cussing like all the time in french and for that, I loved him. He was funny. What was his name Emilie? I tried some Pastis, and it looked like slime and tasted a little bit like licorice soap, but its something that I am not ashamed to say, I could enjoy from time to time with very little grimace.
The next day, we went for a walk? Did we? I can't remember, but it was a totally awesome walk. Hills and little houses, and random fountains and the obligatory WW1 memorial statue. And chickens, too!
Monday, December 11, 2006
Pepe Le Pew - suprisingly accurate portrayal?
Oh french people - you do not really act like Pepe LePew - the influence that led to my studying french... speedy Gonzales just was not as charismatic as Pepe, face it (though he was speedier) -- , but sometimes when you sortof do(especially you creeper french dudes), its makes all fans of WB cartoons pretty stoked.
The 6th one seems to be a quite accurate scripting of many a creeper french dude's inner monologue.
“You are my peanut, I am your brittle!”
“Where are you, my little gumbo of chicken ? Your French fried shrimp is sizzling for you.”
“Permit me to introduce myself, I am your new lover.”
“Where are you, my little object of art? I am here to collect you.”
“Is it possible to be too attractive?”
“You know, most men would get discouraged by now fortunately for you, I am not most men!”
“You stop resisting me, bebe, and I’ll stop resisting you.”
“You are the corned beef, and I am the cabbage. The corned beef is nothing without the cabbage.”
“The game of love is never called on account of darkness, my little midnight snack."
“You may call me Streetcar, because of my desire for you.”
Remember how cool Pepe was? Did he ever capture that cat/capture her heart?
The 6th one seems to be a quite accurate scripting of many a creeper french dude's inner monologue.
“You are my peanut, I am your brittle!”
“Where are you, my little gumbo of chicken ? Your French fried shrimp is sizzling for you.”
“Permit me to introduce myself, I am your new lover.”
“Where are you, my little object of art? I am here to collect you.”
“Is it possible to be too attractive?”
“You know, most men would get discouraged by now fortunately for you, I am not most men!”
“You stop resisting me, bebe, and I’ll stop resisting you.”
“You are the corned beef, and I am the cabbage. The corned beef is nothing without the cabbage.”
“The game of love is never called on account of darkness, my little midnight snack."
“You may call me Streetcar, because of my desire for you.”
Remember how cool Pepe was? Did he ever capture that cat/capture her heart?
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