I am so frustrated I could scream. I AM screaming, actually, but you can’t hear me. So this is as close as I can get to let you know exactly how I feel. Can you hear me NOW?
Sorry. Didn’t really want to deafen you for life. I’ll try to keep it down to a dull roar from here on, in. No doubt, you’ve got my drift, by now, anyway. And if you’ve glanced at the drawing, and how could you avoid it, 
you now also know what I’d like to say to Pauline Marois, the recently-elected Premier of Quebec; and the leader of the Parti Quebecois.
She, and her merry band of zealots and language police won’t be satisfied until they have driven the final nail into the coffin of La Belle Province.
The latest is, the language cops (L’office quebecois de la langue francaise) are cracking down on small businesses in Montreal. They are harassing restaurants, forcing them, for example, to remove ‘English’ names like ‘pasta’ from their signs and menus.
Have you ever heard of anything so preposterous? So absolutely asinine? So moronic? So Saturday Night Live worthy?
One chef was told to re-write his own personal shopping list. He’d written ‘steak’ instead of ‘bifteck’. Another restaurateur was told to cover up the print on a hot water switch because it said “on/off”.
In their infinite wisdom (yes I am being sarcastic) the OQLF have also decided that ‘cafe’ is no longer an acceptable term to describe establishments selling coffee. When challenged by the owner of one such ‘cafe’ he was told it had become too Continue reading
365 And Counting 