Tag Archives: EFL

Polish people who should be frozen

Today the Global Seed Vault in the Arctic opened it’s iridescent doors to the first shipment of 100 million seeds. These are to be preserved for all eternity in case of global catastrophe. It struck me that Poland should build it’s own deep freeze and put the following items in it:

One perfectly preserved babcia complete with mohair beret…
In two hundred years she will emerge blinking into the light as hover cars whizz through the air and people wearing shiny spandex gambol about pursuing lives of limitless leisure… and then she’ll set about the godless lot of them with her walking stick. I will be like Godzilla in a knee-length fox-fur coat.

One pijak…
In two hundred years he will wake up, barely recovered from his hangover, and make straight for the nearest Świat Alkoholi, which won’t exist anymore because the shiny-spandex people of the future will have developed much more sophisticated and subtle ways of turning their brains to mush. He will try to beg money from passing shiny-spandex people only to discover that they don’t use money any more. Fortunately, in the future, everyone on the planet will speak Polish (and every other language) thanks to brain implants at birth, so they’ll be able to tell him this.

One good Catholic…
In two hundred years the tide of atheism that has swept the Western world will also have engulfed Poland and nobody will remember what all those strange buildings with crosses on them were originally for. Most will have been converted into zero-g bowling alleys. The good Catholic will be able to tell them. Then the good Catholic will explain politely and smugly that, under certain circumstances, bread is actually the flesh of an undead zombie moral philosopher who once got nailed to a tree for saying that we should all be nice to each other. He will be forcibly deprogramed and go on to lead a happy and productive life as a lemonade engineer (a growth industry of the 23rd century).

One professor of Polish philology…
In two hundred years he will wake up to discover that everyone in Poland speaks Polish with an Irish accent. He will immediately launch a weekly 3D TV program in which he will rile about the atrocious state that the language has fallen into without his guidance. I will become the number one hit comedy in Poland (or The People’s Well-Respectful Republic of Polandian, as the country will then be know). He will then have a mental breakdown and die. His funeral will be attended by a handful of 230-year-old ex Polish philology students who will laugh like drains and scatter handfulls of shredded pages from Słownik Języka Polskiego over his coffin.

One ‘native speaker’ EFL teacher from California called Scott…
In two hundred years he will wake up to discover that he’s out of work, because of the aforementioned language implants at birth, and that he and his kind are regarded by history as on a par with the Mongol hordes. He will be kept in a cage and not allowed a shiny spandex suit. Small children will be taken to see him and threatened that he might visit them in the dark if they misbehave. Eventually the Emperor Dude of Western Heligoland will take pity on him and have him shipped off to the third planet of the Betelguese system with whose inhabitants he is involved in a long running feud over an unfinished game of Facebook Scrabble in the 2200s.

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