Wednesday, May 27, 2009


As one who has mispronounced his share of French words, I blush for the president. Poor fellow can't catch a break. (And then there's this.)

Queen Miffed

Sarko can't seem to get it right with his English and American friends. He fawned over the queen when he visited last year, and the tabloids loved it. Now he's insulted the queen, or so the tabloids are playing it, by not inviting her to the D-Day commemoration with Obama, whom Sarko insulted a few weeks ago at the famous luncheon at which he had harsh words for Zapatero and Brown as well. But D-Day has been planned as an occasion to showcase the French president with the man of the hour, and it would be inconvenient, apparently, to have to bow and curtsey to royalty at the programmed lovefest between Sister Republics. The queen can come if she wants, says Luc Chatel, but it's not up to the French government to tell the Brits who should be in their "delegation."

If I were Liz, I'd stay away. Michelle Obama showed that it was possible to put one's arm around the queen with impunity. Thus licensed, Sarko would be likely to give her a shoulder massage, like the one Bush gave Merkel. This would definitely constitute lèse-majesté (or, in this case, lèse-Liz).

Interesting British comment here.