A Story on Frenching

No, I'm not going to talk about my makeout history on the internet, because as amusing as face licking can be, it has a time and place to be talked about. Instead, I am going to talk about everyone's favorite topic:

The French! 

Cue the collective groans. I understand that at times, the berets and epic mustaches and "I spit at you Americans" look can be a bit much. But just bear with me here, 'cause I'll throw in a nice batch of ethno-centric language analysis for dessert, after you eat your French-tables. (A play on "vegetables," not large wooden things with four legs).

Like any normal person, I was walking about, doo doo dee doo, thinking about the English language. And through these ponderings, I thought about the word to like.

Like has an interesting place in our language. It sneaks up more often than we'd like. Often, it's viewed as weak, similar to how sorbet is viewed in comparison to ice cream.

I quite enjoy ice cream.

To like is a verb that indicates enjoying a specific person, place, thing, activity, and so on. We can "like" a friend that we find pleasant, but as John Green says, would rather not engage in the act of face licking, but once we repeat the word, we seem to think it gets stronger somehow, closer to love. Perhaps Sally likes Christina, but she like likes Johnny. The extra "like" deserves extra attention somehow, exhibits extra attraction.

So we have like in the sense of enjoyment, yet we also use "like" as a comparison. We use it as a substitution for "similar to" because we're lazy and want to shorten everything into text speak. I'm not entirely sure of the origins of the word "like," but I find it interesting, that calling two things that are similar and marking what we enjoy are founded by the same word. This could subconsciously define our enjoyment of things/people that are similar to us. "Oh, you like the French?" you ask, "sweet merciful Batman, why?"
"Because they're a bunch of cynical existentialists, just like me," I answer, and return to my reading of "Les Jeux Sont Faits."
This is quite an ethnocentric view on what we are allowed to enjoy, and though it may not be purposeful, it's a strong indicator of all that 'Merica is about.

So where, oh where is the French?
Well.
The French, to indicate similarity use "comme." To indicate enjoyment, they use "aimer." Two separate words don't necessarily mean they're more open minded about what they like, but as an appreciator of all things French, I like to think so. The French are certainly more open to what they don't know, to mystique.

I mean, let's think about this for a second. A standard interjection for us Americans is "like." We don't think about its meaning in that context, but subconsciously, we could be asserting our assurance of what we enjoy and don't enjoy, what we know to be similar and dissimilar. It makes us sound like a bunch of dumb little shits, but the connotations, when truly looked for, are profound. The French, conversely, use "quoi" as an interjection. "Quoi" means "what." This indicates that they focus more on what they question, rather than what they know.

A common phrase in French is "je ne sais quoi," meaning a certain indescribable quality. It is often used to describe people that have that certain attractive personality that's filled with mystique and all that fun stuff. Americans, while having adopted this phrase, are more prone to describe a person with knowable qualities "he's determined, she's funny, he looks like a pug." The French are more okay to admit that which they don't know, whereas we, like, explain stuff.

Just some thoughts. Amusez-vous bien!

Namaste.