Well OF COURSE it was inevitable that I’d have to write a post about this saying. Gee whiz, why didn’t I think of that?
Because I didn’t! Thanks to the magic of Twitter, (thank you magical Twitter), I got tweeted by Declich with this great idea. Declich is a socioeconomist, which frankly I find fascinating. If you need that profession defined, here you go:
Socioeconomist: a person who studies the interrelation between economics and social behavior.
How cool is that? Um, a lot cool. Apparently our mysterious Declich is also a researcher and consultant. Not so specific. We don’t know what is being researched or consulted on, but something tells me it *might* have something to do with reading sarcastic nonsense over here.
Which, of course, pleases me to no end.
So, in honor of our socioeconomist and the tweet wondering about the etymology of the expression “Me cojoni!” I give you my post, creatively titled: Me cojoni!
As we pondered on Twitter the etymological origins of this expression, I set about Googling to my heart’s content, and turned up two lovely little gems I present to you here, as a sort of post-Christmas 75% off Clearance Sale of useless and trivial information.
Wait! No. Not useless. Not trivial. You could be like, THE coolest tourist EVER to Rome, if you like went and stood in front of the Colosseum for the first time and just like screamed at the top of your lungs “ME COJONI!”
It’s basically designed for that. To be like, HOLY CRAP MAN! Or something roughly similar.
Oh my gosh. So here’s bargain bin item number 1. If you understand Italian, you will enjoy. If you don’t, might I suggest you first review my previous post on “Ice-T Knows About Sticazzi” (I know, it’s truly amazing) and then watch this.
The interviewer asks Italian director Enzo G. Castellari (spaghetti western king), “How did you decide on such great titles for your movies?”
Castellari answers, “I just thought about how I’d react to them. If the spontaneous reaction was me cojoni!, then it was a go. If the spontaneous reaction was sticazzi, it was a no.”
And good times were had by all.
From video. Example? “I say to you — GO KILL AND COME BACK. You say?”
“But then I say to you — “The Assassin on the Telephone.”
And then, there’s this, found at the very bottom of the bin, produced by the super geniuses (I bow down to your greatness) at a place called NO JOB. As in, (I suppose the premise being), we don’t want to really do any “real” work, so we’ll put a bunch of stuff up online like calorie counters and a site that helps you find the best mineral water based on your particular needs (low sodium, etc.) and slap some ads on those suckers, and BAM! NO JOB!
The No Job folks came up with mecojoni.it. Oh yes siree, just when you thought no one else cared about the etymological origins of the expression, no, wrong you are! The folks at No Job, and me, and good ol’ Declich (lest we forget the inspiration for this post), well, we do!
Mecojoni.it specifies that it does not, in fact, roughly translate or refer to “my balls” as one might think.
For me, finding this out was roughly the equivalent of how I felt when I learned that Santa Claus doesn’t really exist.
But mecojoni.it redeemed itself for me with just one simple phrase:
La storia dei coglioni, in quanto testicoli, è degna di essere ripercorsa.
“The history of balls, as in testicles, is worthy of being retraced.”
Oh my God. No, seriously. Do you know how long I too have been saying this EXACT SAME THING?
Anyways, word to the wise:
Coglioni (a.k.a. dialect spelling cojoni) = balls.
Coglione = idiot.
I can’t divulge why this is. You have to do the work there. Try Google translate. I’m tired.
P.S. Really—do it. That Colosseum thing. And film it. It would be highly amusing for at least me, Declich, and the No Job people. And that’s really saying something.