Here’s a video I forgot I made. Thoughts, anyone?
“That’s Not What I Meant!” she insists at 6:41. Ah, don’t we all know the feeling, stumbling around in the foreign languages we speak. Well, at least we’re not on the air!
This video gets pretty boring at moments, but check it out for a few truly hilarious moments.
As you know, I’m always saying, “It’s not how well we speak a foreign language; it’s how well we recover when we screw up.” Well, it’s great to see how these journalists — live, in front of thousands – handle diverse LQSs (Language Quilombo Situations).
Personally, I love “Imagine.” It’s of my all-time favorites. And no, not just because it’s so cursi. To me, it speaks to my own humanist perspective, which Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. articulates better than I ever could:
We Humanists behave as well as we can, without any expectation of rewards of punishments in an Afterlife. We serve as best we can the only abstraction with which we have any real familiarity, which is our community.*
Tags: Armageddon in Retrospect, At Clowes Hall Indianapolis April 27 2007, English music with lyrics, Humanism, Humanist, Imagine, John Lennon, Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Listening Practice, Marisa Repetti, Songs with lyrics
Check this out! Inventory of Emily is short, captivating, wonderful — and I’m not just saying that because my niece, Emily, is the star. This is fantastic poetry — verbally, visually, conceptually. Diez puntos!
My favorite lines from the poem by Mary-Catherine Jones:
“Nobody wants to die.
That’s why there’s FoodMart, Marlboro Reds.
This is my sex,
That is a bird.”
What’s your favorite word, words or phrase?
In the United States, a two-block-long line of cars waiting for gas means there’s a gas crisis. In Buenos Aires, it means there’s gas.
Last Friday I just couldn’t get any nafta — or nasta, as I like to stay — and I felt silly for even trying. Sure, Moyano had turned the spigot back on, but things were still a mess. What was I thinking?
I did get to within 15 cars of the pumps, but then the attendant, walking down the line and waving his finger, announced the inevitable: “No hay, no hay más.”
Back in the summer of 1979 — when I was just a mere seven — my mother drove my brother and me around the country. The Great American Car Camping Trip! It was great! However, before we left everyone told my mother she was pretty darn foolish. You can’t go!
You see, up in el imperio we were going through the 1979 oil crisis, and you had to wait — gasp! — hours to fill up your tank. Can you image that? Waiting for an hour or more to get gas??
Some days — double gasp!! — you couldn’t get the stuff at all. Noooooo!
No wonder why when you Argentines think EEUU, you think “order.”
Maybe you’re right.
I mean, back in the summer of 1979, sometimes the Powers that Be announced that you could only fill up your tank every-other-day, depending on the last number of your license plate — odd this day, even that day. That sure is orderly!
Hell, sometimes you could only get just a few gallons. You see “they” put a limit on how much gas each car could get. That was so there was enough nafta to go around for everyone, and so that lines moved fast. Now, that’s just too orderly!
Tags: 1979 (or second) oil crisis in the United States, 1979 Oil Crisis, EFL learning, ESL Learning, Gas Crisis, gas pumps, meaning of gas pump, meaning of mere, No hay nafta, Oil Crisis, Quote of the Day, Waiting, Waiting on line
If you think yanquis can understand every word of this, think again. But see if a few words pop out — protect, ethanol, windmills. Mostly, don’t try to understand. Just pay attention to the American sound, and listen to the tone of how these politicians speak in Iowa’s Unlikely Privilege by Jim Lo Scalzo.
What is it that makes them all sound American?
I know, I know. You often feel like you can’t go through a single conversation in English without constantly saying the likes of, “What??”, “Come again!”, and “Slow down, please”, and “Repeat, please,” “Please repeat”, and, of course, “What?!” Well, don’t worry. We all get lost trying to understand a foreign language — and sometimes even our own, native language. Just ask El Que!
For the first year or three I lived in Buenos Aires, native Argentines speaking in a native fashion left me gawking. Huh??
My Spanish teacher commented on the cascade of unintelligible words I was hearing when I first moved to BsAs. “Como lluva,” she stated. Indeed.
I don’t speak very clearly on this video, so it will give you a taste of someone from the EEUU babbling away for other people in the EEUU.
Sound lilke lluvia?