SuBuS

The Hunt for the Red October is one of my fav films. I've watched it dozens of times, each time with renewed enthusiasm and a quasi-miraculous ability to "forget" the plot, so that each time I watch it, the main developments and twists come as a "shock" to me.

Since I can't be on a sub, I make do with a bus... and today* as I made my way home from a Cranach the Elder exhibit (more on that later), I notice things I hadn't paid attention to before.

There are rules posted on the buses, which isn't surprising or unusual. What I found interesting was how the bus company decided to frame these messages, playing with language, ideas, and humour, instead of taking the opportunity to use that Billy-no-mates of grammar, the imperative.  (I am a mate of the imperative, but most seem to dislike it!  Go figure! as it were...)

OK, so, mesdames et messieurs, here's the reading material provided by the buses in the city of Paris (plus translations, provided by I - Mmovable Feast--)

"Si chacun fait ses propres règles, tout se dérègle."

"If everyone makes his own rule, everything becomes disordered."

(Much better in French, but I can't make it keep its original wordplay... and here, I don't even think it's my incompetence!)

"J'ai réinventé le passé pour voir la beauté de l'avenir." ~~Louis Aragon, Le fou d'Elsa

"I reinvented the past in order to see future's beauty."

"La RATP vous souhaite une année 2011 pleine de poésie."

"RATP wishes you a 2011 full of poetry."

(I dig this part! A bus company wishing me a year full of poetry is quite funny and lovely to me - poetry itself plus the possible poetic life?)

"Jean-Luc a un prénom.  Ce n'est donc pas la peine de le traiter de tous les noms."

"Jean-Luc has a name. Therefore, there's no need to call him names.

(Please address others with courtesy.)"

The boring sociolinguistic question that's burning the tips of my typing fingers as well as the corner of my brain, though, is: does this approach work better than straight, vertical orders?

So far, I only saw an altercation on a bus once; well, it was kinda sorta on the bus.  Some of it was on the pavement.

We were coming back from a dinner party at my other half's cousin's place out in Suresnes when, as the bus arrived and a young woman dressed in a provocative way (frankly, it looked like she'd got fashion tips from an 'exotic' dancer in Pigalle- NTTAWWT - Not That There's Anything Wrong With That-) attempted to get on it, her brother (as we later found out) attempted to stop her by pulling her arm and hair and handbag and whatever else he could grab, all hell broke loose, as hell does.  Invariably.

Two passengers (both females) and the driver (male) got involved; the passengers tried to make the guy see the error of his ways (by evoking women's right to dispose of their bodies and conduct their lives as they see fit) while he shouted he did not want his sister to enter some night club dressed as though she'd been hired by the hour; the driver tried to make him see the error of his ways by reminding him no one would be able to see his noble intentions through his violent behaviour (though not without first having physically removed him from the bus and pinned him against the bus stop Plexiglass shelter...)

Long story short... she got on it while the passengers continued to discuss the merits of feminism and the barbarism of Islam, while the driver... drove.

Maybe it'd help if the RATP had a special sign reminding us not to remain too attached to our individual beliefs when using public transport...

*Actually, yesterday, Thursday, but Blogspot wasn't working... so I copied it to post it when it went back to normal.