The Coming Times
France is France No Longer
    And my Mother has me stop in France
    France?  Haven’t we looked at Europe already?
    But France it is

    And I see France trying for dear life to hold on to its identity
    To its culture, to its beloved language, to its food
    To its way of life, to its self-identity as France

    And I see all this slipping away from the Frenchman
    And he tries to hold onto to it
    And it slips away from him yet
    And he holds on ever tighter
    And there is nothing to be done
    It slips away; it slips away; it slips away

    His beloved and beautiful language
    Is replaced by the ubiquitous English
    Despite all his attempts to create a French word for every new English word
    Despite all his attempt to remember the French word for every English word that is
    used
    Despite all his attempt to educate and communicate in this, the most beautiful of
    languages
    The French language itself, gradually, steadily declines in use
    And is replaced by the language of youth
    The language of the world
    The one language, English

    For English is being adopted worldwide
    Why even the Chinese, with their great numbers, are adopting English
    From the ubiquitous OK!
    To the technological terms
    To the terms that the youth of the world take up
    They are all English
    They are all English
    They are all English
    American English to be more precise

    And the French food
    The flavorful, delicious, exquisite cuisine of France
    Who has time for it anymore

    For France must compete in this new global economy
    And so France must, to survive
    Run as hard and as fast and as at relentless a pace
    As do the Americans; as do the Japanese; as do the Chinese
    And in spite of their attempt to not indulge in this rat-race way of life
    How does one keep a company alive in this global world, if one does not do so

    For the Frenchman is prudent with his money
    No he does not have a great deal of disposable income
    And can one blame him for purchasing the cheaper products that arrive from China
    Can one blame French youth, and yes French companies for purchasing the latest
    and greatest technological toys that arrive from Japan
    Can one blame French youth for adopting all the popular icons of America
    Be it blue jeans; Coca-Cola; the movies
    And oh gosh, horror of horrors, McDonald’s

    And now even the adults stop on the way home from work to grab a McDonalds
    meal
    For who has time anymore for slow cooking
    Who has time

    And yes, the French language is taught in the schools
    And the newspapers and magazines are of course all in French
    And the government even attempts to simplify the language a little
    Simplify its spelling while yet keeping the beauty and elegance of their beloved
    language
    But it is hopeless
    American English creeps in like air pollution

    It first displays in the words of the people
    Then in the writings of the people
    And then in the writings of the less scholarly journals and magazines
    And then finally even in the most respected newspapers and journals
    For they must communicate with their audience
    The American English words creep in and continue to creep in and continue to creep
    in

    And France fears losing its self-identity to the European community
    And France fears losing its self-identity to the Moslem community residing within it
    as French citizens
    And France fears losing its self-identity to the refugee community, scattered
    throughout the countryside within their white tents

    And France fears losing its economic power to the current powerhouses of the world
    The United States, Japan, and China
    And France fears losing its economic power to the countries that are striving ever
    so intently and relentlessly to be powerhouses
    Be it Germany or the eastern European countries. Will Russia also dominate?
    And where will France and the French way of life fit into this new world order

    How can France survive as France
    How can France survive as France
    How can France survive as France

    And France feels as though it is drowning
    It is as a boat sinking
    And it is bailing water out of the boat with a little bucket
    And the boat continues to sink

    Its language; its beloved language! Oh my God!
    Its beautiful, elegant, refined beloved language
    Being replaced by the sloppy, careless, loose English
    Where words change meaning
    And can mean one thing and then mean another
    And there is no structure and there is no order
    And all is fluid
    And all is fluid
    And all is fluid

    And the delicious, nutritious, flavorful French cuisine
    Is replaced by the bland, devoid of all nutrition, high in empty calories
    Completely unsatisfying American junk food-products
    And the collective French stomach heaves

    And yet McDonalds spring up everywhere and are successful
    Yes they are
    They are successful
    And have no trouble attracting customers to its stores
    No trouble at all

    And perhaps worse of all
    The French very way of life is being transformed
    For it has to be
    In this global economy
    One can no longer afford to give one’s employees 6 weeks paid vacations per year
    No, one simply cannot
    And despite all the government efforts
    At regulating and curbing the number of hours in the workweek
    A company must increasingly adopt the ways
    Of the Americans, the Japanese, the Chinese
    A company simply must, it must to survive, it has no choice
    But to demand that its employees work, at the same salary of course
    45, 50, oh forgive us, 55 hours per week
    It must or it will go under
    The choice is as stark as that

    And the French joie de vivre is slowly eroding
    As the Frenchman runs ever faster; ever harder to keep up
    To keep up
    To keep up

    And no, he no longer has time for his beloved cuisine
    He no longer has the time to prepare it
    He no longer has the time to sit for an hour or two and enjoy it
    No, he no longer has the time

    And he feels himself assaulted from all sides
    By the countries around the globe
    As they invade with their products and their culture

    And he feels himself assaulted from within
    By the refugee community; who fortunately is contained to its tents
    Unfortunately the Moslem community
    The Moslem citizens of France are not so contained
    And despite all the governments best efforts
    The Moslem citizens refuse to become French
    They insist on remaining Moslem
    They insist on retaining the language, the religion, those dreaded headscarves!
    They insist on holding onto the culture of their country of origin

    And just why did they immigrate to France anyway
    If they love their country of origin so dearly
    And if they hate France so much
    What are they doing in France anyway!

    And the Frenchman burns
    The Frenchman burns
    The Frenchman burns

    And he feels helpless
    He feels helpless
    He feels helpless

    And in helplessness he watches as his beloved, his precious, his unique France is
    taken away from him
    His beautiful France is no longer France
    It is now generic
    It is a generic country just like any other country on the globe

    Even Paris begins to look like a generic large city
    Just like any other city on the globe
    And the Frenchman rages, he rages when the rest of the world complains of this
    Why, what has happened to the magic of Paris, they complain
    It would seem that the rest of the world also grieves the loss of Paris as Paris
    There will always be Paris
    Can it be true that there is no longer Paris
    Can this really be true

    But one looks up and down the streets of Paris
    And sees the same stores that one sees up and down the streets
    Of each and every major city on the globe
    And no, Paris is now just another major city on the globe
    It is no longer PARIS
    And surprisingly, even the world grieves the loss of Paris
    Even the world grieves

    And the Frenchman burns
    And the Frenchman burns

    The French grieve
    The French grieve
    The French grieve

    For Paris is Paris no longer

    And the French helplessly weep into their hands
    They weep helplessly
    Helpless they weep
    And they continue to try
    With ever less energy; with ever less hope
    They continue to try to hold onto the essence that is France
    And the onslaught from without and the onslaught from within
    Defeats them
    It defeats them
    It defeats them

    And the French grieve
    And the French are bitter
    And the French are angry

    But most of all, the French are helpless
    Helpless they are
    Completely helpless they are
    As they watch the essence, the truth of their beloved country slip away

    And France is France no longer

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