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This was inspired by the 2007 Jun 22 episode of the comic strip Candorville by Darrin Bell.

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If you have ever heard a song whose lyrics didn't fit the music,

and the mismatch annoyed you enough to make you sick,


then what will you make of a language that has no regular rules,

a linguistic collage that sounds like it was assembled by a college of fools?


Take big chunks of Old Norwegian and of Medieval French

and throw in enough Anglo-Saxon to make your hypothalamus clench.


Take bits of Gaelic and Spanish and even a little Greek

and you have a language that no sane person would speak.


If we see more than a single mouse; if the plural of mouse is mice,

then if we live in more than one house, why don't we live in hice?


And if, instead of gooses, the plural of goose is geese,

why doesn't squeezing more than one fruit give us a pitcher of jeese?


Elegant it definitely ain't, as anyone can tell.

English is almost certainly the language used in Hell.


"Now don't be thinking," the Anglophone says, "that English is a curse,

the language that they speak in Germany is vastly, terribly worse."


English isn't so hard to learn if you truly are attentive.

Simple rules of grammar are for the anal-retentive.


But we have an advantage here: we learned it from our mothers.

Otherwise, English is a cruel trick, to be played on foreigners and others.


Perhaps we won't change and the ancient tongue's music will sing on,

or perhaps we'll wise up and our descendants will speak Tlingaan.


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