The curse of Babel

In the inspired words of Bruce Willis: Lady I only speak two languages: English and Bad English.

Well that statement applies to me. And I cannot really even vouch for my mastery of English. At least in spoken form.

I live in the United States and the language most widely spoken is the aforementioned English. It is our universal and common tongue. For now. Second is Spanish. If you count Canada as part of the states, and some do, you also have French. These are the three languages that I would most likely be to encounter whilst traveling from sea to shining sea.

Of course, this being the United States, we have people from all corners of the globe. In pockets secreted around the country it is conceivable that just about every language still spoken by the Human race is used to communicate thoughts between people.

Then there are the various dialects of English. You know what it means when someone say “Oi poodle up the Mud Flap ya wankin' geezer!” Or “Give it to me Yahoo Serious style!” No? Neither do I. To be honest I'm sure I'd rather keep it that way, judging by the words I do understand. But still, it's fascinating how we've taken a single language with so many common and twisted it to make it incomprehensible to the rest of the world.

Quite some time ago, around when I was 18 years old, I decided that I would learn two phrases in as many other languages as humanly possible. They were 1) your breasts look magnificent, may I feel them? 2) Ow ow, please stop hitting me, I was only joking. Hey, I was a horny teenager, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. It still strikes me as being funny, now that I'm a horny adult. How far did I get in that goal? I can say the phrases in English. Most of the time. Sometimes I still trip up.

I realize something about myself. Linguistics isn't a field of study for me. I am abysmal at memorization. And in order to learn a new language, you need to download a whole new vocabulary. Hell, even visiting a place like Texas where they call all carbonated beverages 'Coke', frightens and confuses me. But then, that might just be the effect that Texas has on most people.

I'm a lazy bastard. That's why I'm here writing about kick ass areas of endeavor instead of going out and mastering them!

Right now, unless one of you wants to donate a lot of money, it is doubtful that I will be on foreign soil if/when the apocalypse occurs. So, English and Spanish. I have a fair range of English. But my Spanish leaves to be desired. I've considering learning some more than counting to ten, mostly so I can get the full worth out of watching unovision and it's bevy of scantily clad beauties. As it stands, I can sing most of the words to the song Labamba and I can inform you of my firmly held opinion about pants: They are the devil.

Los Pantalones son el Diablo!

See? Pretty sweet huh.

So, if you ever need someone to tell a group of folks in espaniol that pants suck. I am your man. Translate some instructions into Russian on diffusing a bomb – you better probably look somewhere else. My only instructions would be 1) don't panic! don't panic! don't panic! 2) Run!