My son, Alex, texted me the other day.  Within his text he used the phrase “paternalistic, bourgeois gaze.”  Don’t blame me.  I didn’t raise him that way.  I use the phrase “nosy, rich asshole.”  I will grant that his phrase is a bit more eloquent, but mine rolls much more easily off the tongue.  More importantly, it avoids the use of any French words.  This alone is a point in my favor.  Or should I say “pointe?”

In the interest of full disclosure, Alex is working on his Ph.D. in English at Purdue University.  Thus, he is compelled to use the vernacular of the Romans.  Romans in this instance being floppy haired, tweed jacketed, Indianan Romans.  But I digress.

As for the French, they have done a wonderful job of insinuating themselves into the conversation.  Particularly when the conversation takes an intellectual turn.  Not only do they stick us with “bourgeois,” but also with “petit bourgeois” and “cologne.”  This begs the question whether one can determine the size of the bourgeois by the cologne he is wearing.  Regardless, it is all rather unnecessary.  Instead of “petit mal” seizure, why not Little Seizure?  This is both pithy and a good person to get a pizza from when you just don’t feel like cooking.  Get that one?  I’m razor sharp.  How do you think that kid got into Purdue?  Magic?  No, unless it is the magic of the double helix.

Speaking of the double helix, it turns out that Watson and Crick may very well have stolen the work of some woman they worked with.  In fairness, women are often too delicate to become famous scientists.  Except for Marie Curie.  Did you know that she is the only person to ever win two Nobel prizes?  You should.  Talk about a seriously good double helix.  And her husband was Pierre Curie, a pretty intelligent being in his own right.  You think they would have had Megamind children.  They didn’t, however.  If they had, Marie would have needed a Caesarean for certain.  And you know who that operation is named after?

No, not the chimp from the Planet of the Apes reboot.  Interestingly, the Planet of the Apes was written by a French guy named Pierre Boulle.  No relation to Pierre Curie that I know of.  Anyway, I guess he was a spy.  In fact, he was a spy from the future who came back to warn us what would happen to Charlton Heston if we didn’t mind our P’s and Q’s.

I’m sure we don’t listen, however.  It’s that bourgeois feeling of entitlement.  It gets us every time.