The French

French, the People I went to a wedding in Paris that was some time ago when the lily white French in their cotton packed arrogance thought the Arabs they had pressed to live in cheap housing, was a happy lot. The wedding was conducted on a barge that was going down the Seine and up again and on the voyage we could see the Eifel tower in all its garish colours. To work on a wedding barge is well paid only white French waiters, although the kitchen staff, was foreigners I mean those who wash pots and spits in your soup. It was a grand wedding and we were standing in line to be served goose liver which is if you are not too particular liver from an overstuffed bird . The French makes good food or so they tell us, and they punch you if you disagree. But I do feel sorry for the French cherished confidence has taken a knock, “we are not universal loved” we, the French who has colourized the world even the USA president says so and he is an African. They have much to learn the French, perhaps they should read victor Hugo again, odd the old scribes, they saw their countryman clearly, mocked them and loved them at the same time.