Language Classes, 12/20

[game-of-you.livejournal.com]

Written on the blackboard:

LAST CLASS -- Please hand in your final projects

There is a basket on Dream's desk to collect the papers; next to it sits another basket, full of red-and-green wrapped Christmas chocolates. Dream, now free of the plague of balloons, leans against the blackboard with his arms folded. He manages a smile for each student as they hand in their papers.

Comments

Re: Languages of Europe, 12/20

[defiantlyyours.livejournal.com]

French has always been a romantic language. Speak a few choice words of the Gallic tongue into the ear of your loved one, and they will immediately melt into your arms. This is not to say that French should be used as a weapon to make helpless the masses. My God, we must fight against the tyranny of those who would use such a beautiful language to pacify their captives! Fight fight fight!

Still, if you trust someone, and I have only ever trusted one person in my life -- my darling Wednesday -- you may croon this at them. There is a certain aural quality that makes it quite the aphrodisiac. Perhaps it is the almost lazy quality of the vowels, or the leering, lustful nature of the consonants. Whatever the cause, you may be sure that any use of French may increase romantic relations between yourself and your beloved. You may even get farther along in your carnal ministrations.

When they call French a Romance language, they truly mean it. France as a nation has always been a lover, not a fighter, willing to surrender all in the name of love. Perhaps this is what tinges their words with that intangible magical quality. I could not rightly say.