Pigeon-holing German

French is the language of love.

Italian is the language of music.

English is the language of international business.

But what about German? To what do the guttural, staccatoed sounds of Deutsch lend itself?

There is something that is special in German. The language enables the emergence of beauty, eloquence and truth to reveal itself on every street, in every town, and on every night, much to the envy of nations outside:

The public declarations of discontentment by the crazy drunk man.

No angry ravings sound as perfectly formed as with German. The vague vitriol that these inebriated tenors sing out, at the top of their lungs, to the world is unparalleled.

The clarity with which Berlin’s street philosophers express their ideas is also laudable. Every sheiße and denunciation is beautifully annunciated. And, with a passion that is rare to find in most Germans.

It is perhaps an area where our teutonic friends hold a clear cultural competitive advantage. I advice all of Eurpe's cultivated to come and explore this unexplored and hitherto unappreciated art form.