What do you think this is? A blague?

Well, I've got news for you. It's a blog. And it's serious.

A blague, pronounced the same way, is the French word for "joke." I learned this word because it caught my ear and I pursued it to the point of actually opening my French/English dictionary; a drastic measure I seldom take. It caught my ear because I thought maybe they were talking about a blog.

A blog, according to the online etymology site I frequent, is short for weblog, a combination of web + log, first coined sometime in '94. Sadly, it is not a combination of we + blog, as in "We blog!" - a protest made in lieu of "We kid!" - after someone was offended by some particularly crass joke made in an online web journal. Because that would have been one hell of a linguistic coincidence.

You may think I'm taking this blog/blague pun too far, unless you, like me, are an avid fan of the O.Henry Pun-Off, held annually in Austin. Not to divert too far, but this cheesily brilliant word parry contest is just about the most fun a time as you can have north of the US/Mexico border. And it's free. It happens in May. I'll see you there.

I should bring every French friend I've ever met with me, too, because the French LOVE word plays. They are a punning sort of people. Apparently, they just can't get enough of playing with words. For example, Ratatouille (the movie) featured an advertisement poster that read, "Rat D'egout" (rat of the sewers, literally) and "Rat de gout" (rat of taste). And I'm sure the French thought that was, like, the cleverest little thing ever.

There are some interesting cross-lingual puns, too. For example, "Parfait." The word for a delicious snack combining yogurt, fruit, and granola (which McDonald's now sells as conclusive proof that they are, in fact, a restaurant dedicated to your health) is also the French word for "perfect." As in, "Wow, those McDonald's parfaits go perfect with the rubber chicken meat and the huge blocks of lard. Let's go there for dinner!"

Adam, who had been learning quite a bit of French at his school (and who has decided that Mommys are people who speak French, and Daddys are people who don't) asked me, the other day, how to laugh in French. I said to him, "Well, you're in luck, because it's the exact same." And he paused for a moment and then said, "Ha!"

What I didn't explain to him is that even though you laugh in the same way in French, you don't necessarily laugh at the same things. As my humour "research" in Tibet once proved, humur can be distinctly culturally relevant experience.

Perhaps this will help illuminate this phenomenon: In Germany, we were enjoying the company of Zane's friend Ralph, who informed us, enthusiastically, that his favorite American sitcom was "Home Improvement."

Him: "I love Tim the Toolman Taylor. He always says, 'More Power!' Ha ha ha ha."
Me: "Really?"

This, interestingly, led to a discussion of puns, and me trying to explain to people who spoke English only moderately what a pun was. The Germans, you know, have no sense of humor (see above paragraph) and so were confused as to why this seemingly inane, slightly toolish pastime was funny. We asked if they had puns in German and everyone was pretty much stumped.

Them: Okay, give us another example of a pun.
Me: Well, you have to give me a category to start with, so there's something to play off of. That's how the Pun-Off works.
Them: Um, the ocean.
Me: Water you talking about?
Them: You know, like the ocean. The sea.
Me: I know, that's why I made the pun.
Them: [not laughing] Oh.

Anyways, the French would get it. They're masters at this. It's hard to see what else they laugh at, though, besides the old classic: I let my dog poop in the street and now you just stepped in it. I bet if I could figure out the French word play for that I'd have pretty much the quintessential France blague.