#i speak french but i am belgian

[ilianazzzfanofblogs]

My biggest flex is understanding Nick when he speaks French.

[britneyshakespeare]

i love it when i find out that a french-speaking artist i'm a fan of is belgian

[fictionalred]

Ah, yes, the illusion of choice.

(the other two options were discounts for photoprints, but I have my own photo printer)

[I could choose between 2GB of free data or 4 GB of free data]

[tabslabs]

Curious about this since the original poll by @wasted-my-time was only 24 hours and I want to include only comics I've personally been recommended by my USAmerican friends.

Honorable mention since it didn't fit on the poll list: Jérôme K. Jérôme Bloche, which I chose to exclude since there are literally only 5 albums in English and I had to cut one of them

Small edit for a common question!

What’s BD? - BD = Bande Dessinée = comics (in the French language). Generally (in English anyway) comics are referred to by their language of origin (ie “manga” for Japanese comics). This is because of shared tropes, references, cultural material, art styles, etc. This does NOT mean that they’re all from France! Just that they’re all written in French!

Asterix and Blueberry are from France; Lucky Luke, Tintin, Spirou & Fantasio, Gaston, the Smurfs, and JKJ Bloche are all Belgian; Yakari is Swiss; and Blacksad is made by Spanish creators but written in French for a French audience and published in France

[pompadourpink]

hi! in one of your asks you said that you spoke picard, can i ask how you learned it? i know there are a lot of regional languages in france, but that there was a push to only teach french in schools, so would you say most young people who speak a regional language learned it from family/ self taught?

Hello,

I indeed was raised in the North by a family who has been living in the same handful of cities forever (I recently dicovered I had an ancestor in the 1100s called Estiennenon the 1st, Knight of Bersées, a village ten kilometres from my hometown growing up).

Here are the dialects of Metropolitan France (and at the bottom of this page the ones from the former colonies, overseas):

It is true that the government has been trying to unify the language (and the accent) for a long time, claiming their insistance comes from a desire to strengthen the republic instead of accepting what they call communitarianism, which would according to them divide people. It has been a difficult topic for several centuries and as far as I see, most people have integrated the fact that you can speak your dialect at home with your family and your school friends, but it (nor your regional accent) has no place in school (from high school I would say) nor work, and especially not in formal situations.

We are also very attached to etiquette and not afraid of confrontation and what is considered good social behaviour includes good communication so if you speak like your grandparents, it will most likely be unfortunately side-eyed and sarcasmed out of you during your youth.

I was born in the early 90s and can fully understand Picard. I will use the occasional word or have a shadow of an accent coming out when I am really tired (it was stronger when I was younger), but I do not and have never used it because it was and is still mocked, not only because it is a dialect but it is one from the North, which has a pretty bad reputation overall (think Alabama). I have no intention to teach it to any future children as my knowledge has been rusting since I moved out after high school and there would be no benefit to it outside of being able to understand a few songs, although I still use some of the daily vocabulary.

As for the second part of your question, I have to take a first stop at your mention of "young people" since, outside of certain regions and families that make it a point to share the language with their children, the practice of speaking it at home is getting lost. My parents are mid boomer and early gen X and they naturally adopted my stance growing up to avoid mockery at work, especially while living in other places and it seems to be the case for most people, therefore young children would not be exposed to their regional dialects at home through grandparents anymore, and our current teens are way more interested in learning English anyway.

There are however places that are very proud of their dialects (ones that are essentially some form of bilingualism as they were born of the proximity with another country) and will teach it in a bilingual school French/dialect (such as Alsacien, Breton - which has no direct borders but is Celtic - or Occitan).

However, I would not add Flemish to this list despite its location since Belgium has a French side and a Flamand side who hate each other culturally and linguistically. I was raised near the Belgian border and did not hear or see Flemish until after I started travelling.

Let's look at a few dialects:

And since you specifically asked about the North, here is my shoutout to Jacques Landrecies, the only Picard specialist of the country and a beloved professor when I was a lit student, interviewed towards the end of this video.

Hope this helps! x

Fanmail - masterlist (2016-) - archives - hire me - reviews (2020-) - Drive

[thelastrenaissance]

The Blue Bird (French: L'Oiseau bleu) is a 1908 play by Belgian playwright and poet Maurice Maeterlinck.

“I have only my brightness, which Man does not understand…. But I watch over him to the end of his days…. Never forget that I am speaking to you in every spreading moonbeam, in every twinkling star, in every dawn that rises, in every lamp that is lit, in every good and bright thought of your soul…”

Maurice Maeterlinck, The Blue Bird

[otterandterrier]

desiré with one e is a boys name, while desirée is a girls name so that kid was right but ig i doesnt really matter if you dont speak french anyway. source: am belgian and speak french daily

thank you for confirming! I have learnt French so I know that it's grammatically correct, but wasn't sure if that applied to names too/was told by one French person that it didn't matter.

unfortunately when I was born, small town birth registries were more strict about what names you could give your baby and for some reason my name was acceptable but only with one e 😅

[david-goldrock]

הודו דרום אמריקה זה הכי ישראלי

Why is it always the ones that take the most time? XD

India South America is the most Israeli The Out Kids (reference to the out kids band) in the kibbutz is the most Israeli Pugs (an old israeli game), tokens, Shluks (an Israeli sweet), an economic night [I speak but] (in english) not enough is the most Israeli Sing!

Bamba Bamba, Alma gum, from Tel Aviv to Ben Gurion (airport) Shekel Schenkel (nickname to a 2 shekel coin), oh kapara (an endearment), the great Aric Einstein Haida Haida, Haida Hi-Tech - for the police - 1-0-0 (100 is the Israeli 911) Checkers, checkers, Matka, Matka We love you Shimon Peres

A new evening, a cold watermelon It is this and nothing else (referencing the show "This is it"'s theme song) Paratroopers course, Araq Ayalim No, no, we don't have another country Red Sea, Dead Sea, Mediterranean Sea, Sea of ​​Galilee Tiredness of start of week from Sunday on Saturday that comes and returns Traffic jam on the holiday with a collection of Kaveret Another World Cup but without the (national) team

Bamba Bamba, Alma gum, from Tel Aviv to Ben Gurion (airport) Shekel Schenkel (nickname to a 2 shekel coin), oh kapara (an endearment), the great Aric Einstein Haida Haida, Haida Hi-Tech - for the police - 1-0-0 (100 is the Israeli 911) Checkers, checkers, Matka, Matka We love you Shimon Peres

From Givat Halfon to Eskimo Lemon (Old Israeli Movies) Who's messing around, it's Miko? (A quote from another old israeli movie- Charlie Vachetzi) Give me hummus, chips, salad and radish But with Diet (coke) or Coke Zero And don't forget applause upon (a plane's) landing And if the line is long, please perform a bypassing Right, they promised that we would grow up and there would be no more army Everyone is on their feet for the singing of Hatikva (the national anthem, also a part of the band's name)

Turkish coffee and Belgian waffles are the most Israeli Also, French kiss and Greek dancing Swedish key Scotch whiskey Spanish burger Nachman From Uman (an important rabbi) is the most Israeli - Goveina

Bamba Bamba, Alma gum, from Tel Aviv to Ben Gurion (airport) Shekel Schenkel (nickname to a 2 shekel coin), oh kapara (an endearment), the great Aric Einstein Haida Haida, Haida Hi-Tech - for the police - 1-0-0 (100 is the Israeli 911) Checkers, checkers, Matka, Matka We love you Shimon Peres

[end segment] It will be fine - I am unloading goods It will be fine - Waze if there is no choice It will be fine - Obama will help It will be fine - and God will protect It will be fine - we will try It will be fine - there is an iron dome It will be fine - the whole song is original It will be fine - only that the tune is a folk tune It will be fine

[karl-jensen]

My Deltarune Headcanons, Part One:

The interactions between Kris and their SOUL are similar to how Homer talks to his brain in The Simpsons, but amped up to 11 due to how the soul would be torn out of Kris’s body and placed in a birdcage. A conversation would go something like this:

Kris: Alright, SOUL. I don’t like you. We must work together to kick this Queen’s ass once and for all. If we fail, then you’re going back into the birdcage!

SOUL: IT’S A DEAL.

Another one of Kris’s interactions with their SOUL would be the decision on hugging Ralsei:

SOUL: Hug Ralsei, Hug Ralsei.

Kris: Do I have to?

SOUL: Do it.

* You hug Ralsei, but Kris feels something peculiar about hugging him.

Kris: This feeling… It’s like hugging Azzy…

SOUL: I know you miss him, buddy. Just think of Ralsei as your second brother.

Susie is a fan of Van Halen, and would air guitar many of Eddie’s solos in her free time.

Swatch speaks in a mixed accent of French and Belgian like Hercule Poirot.

Rouxls Kaard has a speech impediment where he would pronounce his ‘R’s’ as ‘W’s’ just like Elmer Fudd; He also sounds exactly like Pontius Pilate from Monty Python’s Life of Bwian. Here is an example on how he would sound like with the Speech Impediment:

Rouxls: I am Wouxls Kaawd, the Gweateste Puzzlemastuh the Dawk World hath evuh witnessedeth!

Tasque Manager has OCD due to her thing with organizing things. Aside from that, she also has an interest in Zoology and proposes to Queen to open a research center for Animals… as well as a Zoo.

Spamton used to be an Auctioneer and would talk really fast when auctioning things.

Pizzapants’s real name is Felix T. Garfield.

The book that Toriel reads in the end of Chapter 2 is Murder on the Orient Express.

[the-new-ghost-in-this-hotel]

PIZZA TOWER COMMUNITY I AM NOT DEAD

i Just lack motivation so apologies

This time i decided to give our bastard inventor some love (aka i drew mr.stick)

This is a scene for a burton x mr.stick fic i am working on

I promise it shall be finished next month

Henry try not to give canon characters trauma challenge

Some personal hcs on burton and mr.stick.

(The "ew a french" thing is a joke don't attack me i am à french speaking belgian myself )

Drawing body studies in à house with no Doors, two grandparents and à sister had me feeling like i'm fnaf security

[wizzard890]

what got you so into the french revolution?

When I was in school for medieval art history, I did a lot of work on saints and their martyrdoms, particularly how the viewers of art depicting suffering imagined suffering, and how the agony/eroticism of those feelings induced a sort of memetic spiritual euphoria. Which means that I spent a ton of time looking at images of executions. I've seen them all: beheadings and sexymen shot full of arrows, saints barbecued or flayed or eaten by wild animals, criminals broken on the wheel -- all the classics. Or at least, I thought I had, until I encountered this triptych in my senior year of college:

This, by Belgian artist Antoine Wiertz, is The Visions of a Guillotined Head, painted in the late 1840s. Wiertz was a symbolist, and spent a great portion of his career drawn to the macabre, never more notably than on the occasion that inspired this painting.

In February 1848, two notable French criminals were due to be executed by the state. The guillotine was of course still in use as a method of capital punishment (and would be until the 1970s), and Wiertz was curious as to what a so-swiftly severed head felt and saw. He wasn't the first; since the guillotine's invention there had been legends of heads that blinked and blushed and tried to speak after separation. Luckily, Wiertz had a friend who was a hypnotist (as you do). Timed to the moment of the execution, he had his hypnotist pal put his soul "into rapport" with the dead criminal, and claimed that he entered the head itself as it fell.

He later recalled his experiences at some length in writing, but since we're talking about me, here is the important passage, dictated as he "felt" the horror of execution:

A horrible buzzing noise, the sound of the blade descending. The victim believes that he has been struck by lightning, not the axe. Astonishingly, the head lies under the scaffold and yet still believes it is above, still believes itself to be part of the body, and still waits for the blow that will cut it off. Horrible choking! No way to breathe. The asphyxia is appalling. It comes from an inhuman, supernatural hand, weighing down like a mountain on the head and neck. A cloud of fire passes before his eyes. Everything is red and glitters.

Now comes the moment when the executed man thinks he is stretching his cramped, trembling hands towards the dying head. It is the same instinct that drives us to press a hand against a gaping wound. And it occurs with the dreadful intention of setting the head back on the trunk, to preserve a little blood, a little life.

This fucked me up so bad.

I am well aware that consciousness after having your spinal cord severed is a done deal. I was aware of this in college. But there was something about this artist's act of imaginative empathy that compelled me, for the first time, to think about the guillotine in particular. About the mechanical wait, not being pushed off a drop or axed while kneeling, about being slid through on a board, of seeing the basket beneath you, already full of heads. Maybe even heads you know.

I imagined it so hard that I made myself sick and couldn't go to class for two days.

The reason I studied what I studied wasn't because I was ghoulish. In fact, I'm a little squeamish. It was because in the experience of pain, we are all deeply individualized, but entirely, helplessly human.

I laid in bed and thought about the small number of humans who I, an educated layman, knew had been guillotined: Marie Antoinette, obviously; Louis XVI; and (in what felt like black historical irony, given what I knew of his day job) Maximilian Robespierre.

It felt intrusive to have intimately imagined their last, most private moments, without really having any idea about them at all. Better to start at the end and work backwards, I thought. So I started reading.

Robespierre, decapitated by guillotine when he was thirty-six. That's the manner of death. How did he meet his death? In terrible pain, I learned. Why? Because he'd had half his jaw blown off the night before. Jesus, why? Because he'd (maybe probably) shot himself. Why?

It turns out, if you keep doing that, a piece at a time, for years, you can learn a lot about someone's life. And, relatedly, in long and branching paths, you can find your way into every nook and cranny of what burned through France at the end of the 18th century.

[deductordemigod]

It's winter. You ask me about love and I tell you about violence. I'm sorry. I thought that's what love was. It's all the same anyway. Love is never what you want it to be. It can be better, but it can be worse. It doesn't always have to hurt but it always hurts me. The devotion to pain, to something bigger than myself. Love is something big and loud, and god left a long time ago, and took the tenderness with him. So if you're going to feel anything, why not make it hurt. I used to be a hole in the ground, now I am just a hole in myself.

Saudi Arabia GP [Jeddah] (2022) // unknown // Azerbaijan GP [Baku] (2019) // Azerbaijan GP [Baku] (2023) // 'Translations' by Brian Friel [Act 2 Scene 2] (1980) // unknown // Belgian GP [Spa] (2004) // German GP [Hockenheim] (2018) // Singapore GP [Marina Bay Street Circuit] (2023) // 'Translations' by Brian Friel [Act 3] (1980)// unknown // Bahrain GP [Bahrain International Circuit] (2022) // 'Translations' by Brian Friel [Act 3] (1980) // British GP [Silverstone] (2022) // 'Translations' by Brian Friel [Act 3] (1980) // unknown // Spanish GP [Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya] (2022) // French GP [Circuit Paul Ricard] (2022)

so i'm studying the play 'Translations' in my english literature class, and i couldn't help but find some of the quotes relatable to charles. i then found this poem online (unfortunately no source to be found no matter how hard i look), and the rest is history so to speak.

[haerdoepfu]

Today, I'm sad and scared

June is supposed to be a month of celebration for queer people like me, but right now, it doesn't feel like it at all to me. We are not even close to half way in and this is what happened so far:

This friday, we realised that someone had come onto our property and cut the electrical cable to our rainbow lights on our house

Rainbow capitalism (as much as I truly hate it) has almost vanished this year, but not because they finally realised it was not okay to coopt our movement, but because they deemed it too dangeorous for buisness to openly side with us for a single month. This speaks volumes about the current climate when it comes to us queer people and our rights.

All of it has been overshadowed by a genocide, in which the perpetrators dare use our pain and our fight to justify it, pretending to do it in our name

And now, the first time i was able to vote in the EU, the neonazi parties have gained so many seats, the parlament been driven so far to the right, that the Belgian Premier Minister resigned and that stupid idiot of a French President dissolved the french parliament. This now gives the right the very likely possibility to gain even more power.

June was supposed to be our month. It was supposed to be about celebrating ourselves and our achievements while fighting for more, about queerness and joy.

Yet here I am, unable to fall asleep, crying for our world, our future, our safety. Scared of losing it all.

[sigmaleph]

watching Agatha Christie's Poirot, which is a TV adaptation of, well, Agatha Christie's books featuring Hercule Poirot. and the accent work is... inconsistent?

Like, Poirot is played by an english actor putting on a french accent at all times, sure. I am not qualified to tell if it's a good accent, but it's there. at various times actors are putting on weird american accents, which i am also not super qualified to evaluate but they sound. off. on at least one case the character was actually a british person pretending to be american, so I guess it's justified.

and then there's Murder on the Links, a story primarily taking place in France. and you have a scene where the (French-speaking Belgian) Poirot is in a room with a (French) maid and a (French) police inspector. and they're all talking in english to each other. and, also, Poirot's actor is still keeping up the accent he has at all times, but neither of the actors playing french people are remotely trying.

(poirot, of course, keeps his habit of dropping bits of french whenever he talks, exactly the same as when he's speaking to british people in britain, just in case you could think the french people speaking english in france was translation convention)

(on the one occasion they had an argentinian character the person playing her was spanish. which is a completely different accent but hard to tell when speaking in english so I don't have many objections)

[a-la-rascasse]

Happy birthday JACKY ICKX!!!!!!!!!!!!! (01/01/1945) ⚡💜

“The fact that I am still alive after 100.000 laps is my championship.”

Jacques Bernard Ickx, better known as Jacky, was born in Brussels. He's the son of Jacques and Marie, he also has an older brother called Pascal, who was an aviator that later would also become a racing driver before his younger brother. Motorsport was part of Jacky's life since the beginning: his father Jacques was involved in racing before switching career to become a renowned motorsport journalist; thanks to that Jacky picked up the interest in racing and speed, and slowly wanted to be able to take part in the world of mototrsport. His chance came at the age of 16 years old, when he started racing, not on four, but two wheels: the young Belgian started his journey riding a Zündapp, in categories such as trial, enduro and pure speed. It turned out that he was extremely successful, especially in the 50 cc trials, winning both the Belgian and European championships. But quickly his interest turned to the world of four-wheel racing, he began in touring car racing, at the wheel of a Lotus Cortina, with which soon he gained in 1965 the national saloon car championship. The following year will turn out to be an extremely busy one for Jacky, at only 21 years old he took part in more than 50 races, like the 24 hours of Daytona, winning the 24 hours of Spa and partaking for the very first time at the 24 hours of Le Mans; that very same year he also made his first entry in Formula 1, thanks to the racing programme created by Elf and Matra to help french-speaking aspiring drivers.

At the wheel of an F2 Matra MS5-Cosworth, on the infamous circuit of the Nürburgring, Jacky took part in his unofficial first F1 race, although it would be a disappointing one: after colliding with another car, he was forced to retire from the race after only one lap. From that race on, in 1967, Jacky kept racing for Matra, both in Formula 2 and 3, to be able to gain more experience that would help him to win the F2 Championship. It's at the Italian GP that he had a proper and official Formula 1 entry: at the wheel of a Cooper-Maserati, the young Belgian performed brilliantly, finishing in 6th place. After such an impressive performance, teams started to advance their offers, but the most important one was from Franco Lini, sporting director for Scuderia Ferrari. In '68 it was announced that he would be the new Ferrari driver, joining Kiwi Chris Amon in the Italian team, becoming the youngest driver line-up at the time. In his first year in F1, Jacky managed to score his first victory at the French GP and had brilliant performances like the one at his home Grand Prix, at Spa, the one at Brands Hatch and Nürburgring, where he drove almost the entire race without his helmet visor under the heavy German rain. Yet, it came as a surprise when the Belgian driver decided to move to Brabham for the following season, but it turned out that the decision was mainly influenced by John Wyer, manager of the Wyer sports car team, whom didn't want to lose the talented driver to the Ferrari's sports car team. The season started with a series of poor results, but his performance definetely improved in each race. He stepped on the podium in France and Great Britain, he took victories in Canada and at the Nürburgring, where he also took pole position and fastest lap, scoring his first grand slam, and finished the year as runner-up for the championship. For the '70 season Jacky moved back to Ferrari, a decision he made since the '69 Italian GP; he would stay with Scuderia Ferrari for the next three season, which turned out to be not particularly significant: he still gained a few more successes but often the car would have relibility issues, leading him to the decision to leave the team halfway the season. His next move was to move to Lotus, but unfortunately he joined the British team in a very precarious situation: the performance of the car was poor, and often Jacky outperformed the uncompetitive car; once again the Belgian left halfway the '75 season. From 1976 Jacky started racing for the Wolf-Williams team, slowly heading towards the end of his F1 career, since from '77 on he would sporadically race for teams like Ensign and later for Ligier, in which he ended his career in 1979.

Despite having quite a good F1 racing career, often showing his worth and talent, Jacky actually shoned in endurance racing. He partook in endurance races like the Spa 24 hours, 6 hours of Daytona, he won twice the 12 hours of Sebring, three times the 1.000 km of Monza, but the one race in which he excelled at the most was the 24 hours of Le Mans, which he won 6 times and held the record for most wins at the French competition for 23 years.

In the early 80s he also participated in off-road races like the Paris-Dakar, which he would win in 1983 before retiring from racing.

Jacky always showed to be particularly good at racing in wet conditions, joining the list of the few rain masters. He also excelled on the extremely dangerous circuit of the Nürburgring, where 'superior driving skills could beat superior machinery'.

Despite retiring from Formula 1, Jacky has always remained involved with the sport, for example during the mid 80s he became the race director of the Monaco GP. Till to this day Jacky visits F1 paddocks regularly.

[doktoredelweiss]

Just out of shallow curiosity: You have a german alias, but state, that you are french. Which languages do you speak, if I may ask? :-)

I only speak French fluently ! Then I speak English and German but I am not so fluent ;0;

Edelweiss is my legal name, not even an alias. 🙇🏻 Long story short, my family (the only part of my family I know) mostly comes from Belgium. So I consider my « blood » franco-belgian ?¿

But Edelweiss is a name I chose. I’ve always wanted to change my name when I was a kid. I never associated myself with the name I received. I never felt like belonging in everything that was related to me, by force. I wasn’t enjoying the place a part of my family decided to move in. I hated it actually, because I couldn’t relate nor enjoy the culture of the place I lived, which was different from the culture at home. I won’t say that my childhood was a pleasure. Because it wasn’t, never has been. But I think it’s far from being the worse part of my life. The name I was given just disgusted me, it was stained by abuse and by the disgust for the place I was forced to live in.

I tried to collect names for my own person, and also desperately tried to look for an actual home. Somewhere to belong. I soon discovered the beauty of German romanticism, that made me deep dive in German, Austrian and Swiss culture. Something I could finally desire, something I saw myself call home. At the time, I was going through a very rough part of my existence, none of it was actually enjoyable, thinking of it terrifies me, but I had the comfort of thinking of the Alps, dreaming about it, constantly. It was logical for a flower lover like me to take the name of such a symbol like the edelweiss, a rare plant that grows at over 2km of altitude. The plant is very unique to the eye, and I thought it was the perfect name to have.

As soon as possible, I started using it everywhere, told my teachers and classmates to use it. They did. And years later I changed it legally. :p