No Sex, Please

Actually, this is part of the title of a New York Times article that The Frenchman had me read that’s entitled “No Sex, Please, We’re French” that is crammed full of small errors about French culture. (Although, the opening sentence is a whopper.) The Frenchman and his bilingual friends are slack-jawed that the New York Times is so lame. It’s probably tongue-in-cheek, this thing. But even if it is, how does one account for this:

But deep down, the French distrust modernism. They long for the days when theirs was the international language of diplomacy and only France made sparkling wine.

All the other stupidity aside, France doesn’t make sparkling wine. France makes champagne. Is he an idiot? Or is this supposed to be funny? I can’t tell. And here I was picking on Strange Horizons (although their articles dedicated a lot more verbiage to culture misunderstanding than this piece). Just goes to show, even the big guys fuck up spectacularly when it comes to talking about any culture other than their own. (And even then.) This Stephen Clarke guy in particular has a book credit, which I guess means that he can fill up an entire TPB with crap information.

In other news, as promised, here are photos of the seaside town of Cassis. These are the reverse photos of the Cliffs of Cassis, highlighting the shoreline.

Yesterday, we went for a walk to see “les bolies” and I took some photos of that, as well. Here’s my favorite:

I wrote 2200 more words over the weekend. At 5721 this morning. Time for more!

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