The story of why Mangofarmer is Ukrainian, or why the moon is made of dried green peas and cabbage. 2003-12-09 - 1:10 p.m.
Obviously I am writing in my diary, since I am supposed to be preparing for my presentation on Ukrainian folk songs tomorrow.
Obviously.
*begin diatribe on lack of university-level Ukrainian Studies programs in the United States*
So lots of Ukrainians live in places in Canada like Manitoba and Saskatchewan and the North Pole and what have you. That's fine. But lots of Ukrainians live in Craptown and Bumblefuck too!
(People in Gradschoolville have never heard of Ukrainians. Silly Gradschoolvillians.)
So I propose that the community college in Craptown give me a job teaching Ukrainianisms when I graduate here. I could teach them the several words I know in Ukrainian: bread, goodnight, goodbye, "Christ is Risen", "Indeed He is Risen" (I went to church once upon a time a gazillion years ago so that's the only reason I know those), "cabbage brigade", and "bucket of paint". I could teach the preparation of that delectable green slop they call kapusta. I could explain the difference between pierogies a la Mrs. T's (in your grocer's freezer) and pierohy. I could show the class examples of pretty pysanky, and say "Wouldn't it be nice if I knew how to make those?" The rest of the class would be spent in the formation of a rock band called the Cabbage Brigade.
(Who would play what in this band? Who has dibs on the balalaika?)
Hmmmm. If I run for president under the Ukrainian National Mangoist Party, who would vote for me? I'll take a show of hands please.