Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts

Friday, 27 February 2009

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.

Wednesday, 18 February 2009

The importance of clear diction

Usually, after a drink or a meal, I ask for the “Die Rechnung, bitte” – the bill. However, saying something simple in a language can be done in several fashions, so I have decided to change my ways, and introduce a new word into my street vocabulary.

I vowed to ask for the “bezahlen” (to pay) in the future.

The problem with languages, though, is if you are a bear of little brain, you become easily confused. Such a lapse was highlighted after a particular lively and rather fruity German conversational class, in which I was introduced to a new word: stillen.

My mind, being the broken wreak of a thing that it is, then asked “Kann ich bitte bestillen”.

My waitress stopped in her tracks and gave me a steely look. What? I though, I’ve only had a few, a few more than I intended, I grant, but I’m a innocent, baby-faced kind of guy. I wouldn’t do anything wrong.

The only problem is, that “stillen” means to breastfeed.