31 Aug 2007
Death of a Sales Pitch?
Should I open the Wikipedia "Translate this page" entry for "Archimede Pitagorico"? No, not after having been burned by "your dead women is my life" from Wiki's "Mors tua vita mea". Fool me once, with slight of translation, Wascaly Wiki- shame on you- fool me twice, and maybe I'm daft enough to believe in, say, the "peace process".
I suppose that history never ends for those Greeks who remember that an Italian murdered Archimedes, and that first generation Greco-Americans and Italo-Americans could have carried on a conversation such as:
Swan Schtupper: "Eureka!"
She-Wolf Sucker: "You stinka too!"
What sucks much, much less is something recounted by Derb (who was referenced in the Spencer post):
Man walks into Greek tailoring shop, puts a pair of pants on the counter. Examining them, the tailor finds a big tear in the fabric.
Customer: "Yes. Eumenides?"
I'd like to lie and say that this if off-the-cuff, but "Sam Apollodorus, you made the Pantheon too short" is a result of drinking the Google Aid, and besides, wouldn't cut it either.
Googles "Language Tools" choked on "Chi ha orecchie per intendere, intenda", producing what seemed to be gibberish, but going further led to "Io faccio orecchie da mercante" as in the wealthy and powerful to whom Hugh appeals for understanding, rational actions and cash, who listen to him like a merchant -that is to say, though the "customer is always right", not at all. As in "I pay no attention to what you're saying." But attention must be paid to the Spencers and Fitzgeralds or we'll have to pay, not the pied-piper nor Piper Jaffray, but an ever-increasing jizyah. Excusi, I'm all thumbs when it comes to purple prose.