In response to several gibbering individuals, I cheerfully explained "ngoh jan m chito neitei gong matyeh feiwah". No, it was not the bloated heathens in the lounge, one of whom had threatened another with violence upon hearing the Cambridge Dictionary definition of something, and another one of whom suggested that as over thirteen hundred American schoolkids die of gunviolence every year, children need assault rifles -- only a fraction of the fat toads present took that seriously, praise the lord -- but I've said something similar at times to those same esteemed gentlemen.
Several times today I heard it was one hundred degrees plus in Novato. Or Fairfax. Or Modesto. Or some other place unfit for civilized living. We had the aircon on, and it was only in the eighties outside, so I could have glibly suggested that whatever was just said did not compute.
Unconcerned, uncaring, uninterested.
Aircon, man!
我真唔知道你哋講乜嘢廢話!
Whatever, dude. I have no idea what you're talking about. It's all rubbish. Not hot at all. Adjust your attitude. Be cool. It's all 亂講 ('luen gong'; "talk nonsense"), 癡人說夢 ('chi yan suet mong'; "crazy person talking dream"), 亂噏廿四 ('luen ngap yaa sei'; "confused prattle twenty four", totally illogical), absolutely 夢囈 ('mong ngai'; "delirious sleep-mumble").
In fact, 我都唔知你噏乜 ('ngoh do m chi nei ngap yeh'; I have no friggin' clue what you're babbling on about)!
But that wasn't it. It wasn't heat related.
Nor even politics or fake news.
Just linguists at play.
I of course do not speak Rokbeigalmkish nor hyperphonetically correct late Biblical Hebrew (shocking, I know), so I did the next best thing.
Interjecting Cantonese, I have found, is the complete opposite of Godwin's Law, much like a Monty Python reference.
It gets things flowing.
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