1/[That’s right. You heard right. Now I don’t claim to be more fluent in latin than he, certainly not nowadays, though there were one time I could pretty much speak.
I am sick of people saying ooh I can understand this ooh could you have spoken with the romans could you have assimilated yourself son. Well they is gone. Die sind schon ausgegangen. The deal is, how well can you write. Not how much can you read, not ooh I can smell roman bread from their burned down excavated house ooh I am the best at latin in cambridge. You’d have to be a mighty fine loser to think that you have really achieved something in such a case. Actually I am lying. The deal also is, why would people care about the writings of a welsh loser. Das richtige Antwort ist, no one does! That’s why your mother hasn’t been studying my works in her old girls’ school, because I am not a roman. Ich ask you this, if a boy learn french who be not french and write a genuinely book in said tongue, is he rejected? But no unless it be thousands of years old it can’t be loved. I think, come on lads, come on Diggle, how CRAPPé is Caesar? My mother can write better than he with cheap latin borrowings in english! My girl can write better than he and she’s pretty dull!
My stories are better than your latin professors’ best attempts to be original my stories are greater than the roman empire’s entire pathetic attempt at writing something meaningful. How people eat up ridiculous tas de merde about random gods and balls being thrown at 2 year olds is beyond me. Oh yes I know they don’t have LIVES. I don’t have a LIFE but I am trying not to like oooh god of thunder oooh I am scared ASIF he exist.
/pleasingly arrogant rant over] ^-1