THE DREAM AND THE REALITY.

Readers, Le Monsieur has a dream.

In my dream, the people behind the dictionaries would categorise words that are apparently *offensive* as now not quite so offensive after all. The effect on society would be massive, but slow to take it's full toll on the people's conscience. I could potentially march around saying "Hey nigga!" to every cracker on the street and they be very unoffended. They would, in my imagination, respond with a very hearty "Yo cracker, wossup!" and we'd bond in the way that homies do, by playing loud music from our beatboxes and pretending to be Bob Marley's lost sons. Anything is possible in a dream!

What a dream it is. Well, Eminem's been living the dream for years now, dissing on all us whiteys who don't rap as if it's a prescription drug for Swine Flu. Hip Hop, whilst admittedly an *Urban Passtime* for kids with issues, was certainly built for a sociopath like Eminem, who, contrary to my vocab requisition, isn't on my Black List. I quite admire him, in his ability to send hate mail to Mariah Carey and get seemingly no criticism at all. Heck, if I did that, the cops would knock on my door and search house for any nipple clamps that happen to be strewn about like anything perfectly innocent. I'd probably be punished by having Mimi played non stop in my cell on a loop! But, all this urban stuff is making me feel rough, and there are other words that people dislike as much as the dictionaries, who are influencing them way too much to my mind.

See, the way I was raised, language is a tool with a definite purpose. For example, if you want someone to go away, suggesting politely that they are in the way won't work, and they are more likely to stay firmly in your way than move out of it. But telling them to F*ck off in a loud uncompromising manner will work more easily, I guarantee. Now, I'm not suggesting that you be like that to everyone, as you'll be mistaken for a rude fucker. This technique is reserved only for times of extreme irritation, and in places where guns and knives aren't commonplace. Point is though, I'm saying that our once effective communication lines are being hampered by words and phrases being constantly "outlawed" by people with more moral substance than sense.

Truth is, I love my dirty words as much as the next person does, but slowly they are being bled out of our societies media portrayed face and pretended out of existence by the ignorant sociopaths who control education these days. There are many teenagers who have no idea how to answer the questions on The Weakest Link, let alone the test they do at school, and the way it's changed our use of language is concerning, to say the least. Language changes, of course, and I love it, the English language is apparently the most expanding language in the world and I say let it expand, but don't cancel out the words you think society doesn't need! Very American, to put it mildly. It's amazing how words like disabled, once able to be uttered freely without fear of causing offense is slowly being turned into a swear word, and replaced with "special person", which is equally as offensive as calling someone a coon to my mind. There are numerous more examples of it, but I don't want to drone on for too long. Suffice to say, you can probably think of a few yourself!

The biggest problem it's causing though, is that swearing is now a form of humour ! It's not big, and it's not clever, and although I love etymology, swear words in particular, I'm not amused. What was once an expressive tool for anger, irony etc has become a controvertial non-issue that makes people ashamed of the words they heard as they wre growing up.

Le Monsieur

VITAL ORGANS AND SUNNY DAYS.

Never having been one to boast, but as days off go, this has been a pretty good one!

You know how you can hear it raining when you wake up and it just instantly makes one of those pre-emotive onomatopoeic moments? Well, it was one of them for me. My son, for once waking up after me, remained the same juice demanding, Dora watching tyrant he always is at nine am, but I felt somehow unable to wake up at all, and had a nuclear bomb strength coffee to edge my existence into more clearer territory than it previously had been.

Now that I could see clearly out of one eye, I considered myself in a fit enough state to look in the mirror, not something I do often actually for some reason, and check that my face is still there. What with the spate of burglaries recently, you never know what will go missing. One of these days, I'll learn to lose my Scouseland paranoia , seemingly a genetic imprint from every Liverpool jibe you hear as a child. It's not just non-Liverpudlians who hide their items in Liverpool, it's the Liverpool people too. Out of good sense and a general feeling of wanting to remain personally intact when I return from a day out.

It shouldn't be an issue, after all this is not a Russian back street "medical centre" where you go in a for a health check and leave minus several vital organs. My neighborhood is blessed with so many blue rinse persons and rusting lamp posts that this is the last place anyone would want to steal body parts. My coffee did help rid those thoughts from my head and I eventually enjoyed a lovely day in the park with my son, jumping in very muddy puddles, eating cinnamon rolls, and being generally very childish.

Point being? Well, just that life is god when it seems so mundane and bizarre. I thoroughly recommend everyone to do absolutely everything of a random, fun nature with their kids on a Sunday.

Fun.

Mnsr Seba