Pestilence. War. Famine. Death.
These ancient horrors pale before --
Foreign language citations either in-text or in end-/footnotes that are left untranslated for us mono-and-a-half linguists!
The other day, Sherry whipped up a post reviewing the new book by noted Biblical scholar and sometime teevee talking head Bart Ehrman, and this got me thinking of stuff that I enjoy reading, which is, like the Prankster's Bible itself and the characters within -- and some are quite the character. Oh, Yahweh, you little narcissist scamp with all your incessant smiting -- generally old.
Oh no, not you, big cheesy. Did I say Yahweh? I meant Methuselah.
I destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah so long ago.
No, don't be silly! You're quite the spry deity. In fact, you're a spring chicken.
That's just what every imaginary sky fairy longs to hear.
Relax. I know what the problem is. Gents?
Betcha feel better now, huh.
See, big guy, it'll be alright. Look at that youthful mane. You'll be chatting up the cheerleaders in no time. No last temptation for you, wink, wink, nudge, nudge.
Now that I've dazzled you with purty pictures, here's a bunch of whiny, boring words giving you the chance to escape to sexier pastures. And you people think I'm as cold and heartless as Yahweh.
Specialist texts are the worst for obvious and completely expected reasons, but there are a few kind souls (thank you, Ashgate) that usually translate or at least summarize these bits and pieces. French I can manage, as long as I have mon dictionnaire that's wearing its taped-up-Rocky treatment surprisingly well after years of abuse. It's a miracle!
Latin? The faintest whiff of eons-ago semesters, the Wheelock and dictionary on the shelf, and my increasingly ineffectual noodle make a four-course meal low in sodium and high on migraines. Lucky for me that the English language is one of the world's most accomplished kleptomaniacs, rivaling Bonnie and Clyde, John Dillinger and Dick Cheney.
The only German I know outside of 101 phrases (guten tag, danke, auf wiedersehen, achtung, schnell, Heil Hitler) is this list of likely incorrect sentences leftover from high school: Wo ist meine brieftasche? Ingo ist mein Freund. Ich gehe in die Stadt. Good times watching those theoretically educational 1960s black and white shorts. The first of the three was uttered by a penguin in the lobby of a sparse, noirish hotel towards a quite dapper clerk played by an actor who was obviously high or rivalled Sean Penn's masterful take on Jeff Spicoli. And you thought Deutschland lost its sense of humor while rebelling against The Man with that whole awkward Nazi phase.
Don't even get me started on fucking Arabic. Since Hussein X, Stringy Puppet of the impending Caliphate, is a fluent speaker, I'd give him a call, but he's real busy doing exactly what an American Pretzeldent, regardless of party, is supposed to do. You know, racking up our deepest regrets during The Global War on the
Communist Islamic Threat of the Month and sticking it to everyone not currently running a bank or strapping electrodes to a prisoner's nutsack for the fun of just following imperial orders, all while filling the airwaves with nougat goodness.
Let's compare past candy bars, shall we?
Reagan's chewy center: Latin American death squads, Brylcreem and what's a treason?At least those jokers made up for such unhealthy ingredients by being near inexhaustible reservoirs of comedy. I can't say the same for our current overlord and, frankly, that's what really galls my bladder.
Bush the Smarter's whipped goo: vomit, video wargaming and Uncle Clarence.
Bubba's caramel goodness: pasty sexcapades, let's let Rupert own everything and gays? ewww!
Chimpy's peanuts: bathtub social engineering, fields of corpses decomposing in the sun and oops! I lost all the money!
Stupid Pretzeldent. Be more funny!
Oh, what the hell. Here's a pic of Scarlett Johansson from that flick. No, not the German one. I don't want to be accused of false advertising.
Almost makes me wanna take up smoking.