It's raining.
Not in an undefined timespace continuum.
Right now, as I write this, on Tuesday, June 20th 2007, at 0:28 (Paris Time), it's raining cats and dogs.
I'd say tigers and wolves actually.
The night is dark. Darkness just pierced by the lamp posts. I can hear a neverending drum solo on my roof window. Last time I checked, you could see the rain falling in the dim light of the street, falling in big drops just like in movies.
When the drops hits the road, you can see the hole they make in the layer of water that covers the ground.
And the rains pours just like in a Hollywood movie. Until you see it for real, you think this size of drops is an invention of a crazy techguy.
Somewhere, far away, the thunder rumbles and echoes.
It is late, but I can't help listening to the rain, reminding me of this evening when I strolled under a first wave of water. The same big drops. Each one of them splashing agisnt the floor, coming over your shoes. Water flowing down the street, water falling from the sky, water infiltrating any piece of garment straight to your underwear.
Water everywhere.
2007/06/19
2007/06/18
What is rock 'n' roll ?
Rock 'n' Roll. These words can make you shake your head expectantly or frown with disdain.
It means many things to many people.
Here, I'll try a futile attempt to give my own definition of it. It may not be yours, it may be close to something you feel as well. Anyway, it is my vision. The sense I put behind Rock'n'Roll.
To me, Rock'n'Roll ain't noise pollution. Yeah, AC/DC told the world that before I did, I know.
Yes, Rock (to make it shorter) is music. Music. With a BIG m.
Where Jazz had "the swing", this mysterious thing you couldn't define but that made you move your feet and snap your fingers, Rock has "the groove".
It doesn't make you snap your fingers.
It makes you want to move your head in any direction possible, it makes you want to jump around, it makes you want to kick the air, it makes you want to scream your guts out. It makes you high, somehow.
To me, Rock includes bands like the Doors or even Pink Floyd, even though Pink Floyd is based on another kind of effect, a little more laid back. Yet, when I listen to Pink Floyd, I *do* feel like screaming, and I sure feel kinda high.
But Rock goes as far as Heavy Metal is concerned, it goes through the whole 70's Hard Rock movement with AC/DC or Deep Purple, and takes in its stride some fusion bands like Rage Against The Machine or Red Hot Chili Peppers. It goes as far as some Death Metal, but to me it still needs some "finesse". Take Children of Bodom.
I will not mention all the bands I consider Rock. There's too much, and there are many i just don't know.
But Rock just has to move my guts.
And that is why I have a problem with what they call Rock lately, all these brit-like bands, who sound kinda old.
Most of them just don't make my big toe wiggle. Not even.
Is it just me ? I don't know. But I don't judge. I just express a feeling. And to have the Rock, you need a little magic...
As to the lifestyle involved, there's none. The point with Rock is not how much you display your Rockness. The point with Rock is how much you enjoy the Music. And besides music, how much you enjoy life.
Rock may make you scream your guts out, but you have to love this feeling somehow.
It means many things to many people.
Here, I'll try a futile attempt to give my own definition of it. It may not be yours, it may be close to something you feel as well. Anyway, it is my vision. The sense I put behind Rock'n'Roll.
To me, Rock'n'Roll ain't noise pollution. Yeah, AC/DC told the world that before I did, I know.
Yes, Rock (to make it shorter) is music. Music. With a BIG m.
Where Jazz had "the swing", this mysterious thing you couldn't define but that made you move your feet and snap your fingers, Rock has "the groove".
It doesn't make you snap your fingers.
It makes you want to move your head in any direction possible, it makes you want to jump around, it makes you want to kick the air, it makes you want to scream your guts out. It makes you high, somehow.
To me, Rock includes bands like the Doors or even Pink Floyd, even though Pink Floyd is based on another kind of effect, a little more laid back. Yet, when I listen to Pink Floyd, I *do* feel like screaming, and I sure feel kinda high.
But Rock goes as far as Heavy Metal is concerned, it goes through the whole 70's Hard Rock movement with AC/DC or Deep Purple, and takes in its stride some fusion bands like Rage Against The Machine or Red Hot Chili Peppers. It goes as far as some Death Metal, but to me it still needs some "finesse". Take Children of Bodom.
I will not mention all the bands I consider Rock. There's too much, and there are many i just don't know.
But Rock just has to move my guts.
And that is why I have a problem with what they call Rock lately, all these brit-like bands, who sound kinda old.
Most of them just don't make my big toe wiggle. Not even.
Is it just me ? I don't know. But I don't judge. I just express a feeling. And to have the Rock, you need a little magic...
As to the lifestyle involved, there's none. The point with Rock is not how much you display your Rockness. The point with Rock is how much you enjoy the Music. And besides music, how much you enjoy life.
Rock may make you scream your guts out, but you have to love this feeling somehow.
2007/06/14
Special message
As you all might have realized, dear readers (do I still have any ?), this weblog is updated on quite a random basis.
I have an explanation for that : I live in France, with French people, doing French things, and telling the story of it all seems more relevant in French, for French.
Maybe I am a bit of an ethnocentrist, here. Maybe I am just meek, considering my wicked self unworthy of the interest of the brilliants foreigners who might come across this page.
Or just somewhere in the middle.
Anyway, if I am writing today, it is because I felt like writing about something which is of little concern to my fellow French, and of a little concern for one particular person who at this time cannot read French.
So let's cut the crap and say, or write, what I wanna say from the start :
Happy Birthday, dear Naomi.
Much ado about nothing ? Tell her that !
Disclaimer : I take no responsibility for any damage caused as a consequence of calling my friend Naomi "nothing". I wouldn't do that. I advise you don't. Now, you're a big fella, you know what is right for you. Or so I hope.
I have an explanation for that : I live in France, with French people, doing French things, and telling the story of it all seems more relevant in French, for French.
Maybe I am a bit of an ethnocentrist, here. Maybe I am just meek, considering my wicked self unworthy of the interest of the brilliants foreigners who might come across this page.
Or just somewhere in the middle.
Anyway, if I am writing today, it is because I felt like writing about something which is of little concern to my fellow French, and of a little concern for one particular person who at this time cannot read French.
So let's cut the crap and say, or write, what I wanna say from the start :
Happy Birthday, dear Naomi.
Much ado about nothing ? Tell her that !
Disclaimer : I take no responsibility for any damage caused as a consequence of calling my friend Naomi "nothing". I wouldn't do that. I advise you don't. Now, you're a big fella, you know what is right for you. Or so I hope.
2007/03/19
The Monkey and The Butterfly
This short story is based on an idea we had with my friend Naomi this summer. A starlight sky can inspire a lot of things, eh ?
The Monkey and The Butterfly
Everyone knows what the World looks like. A big blue ball lost in the Universe. On this big blue ball, various creatures live together with various degrees of Harmony.
Among all these creatures, a very few can dream.
Among these very few are monkeys, similar to the one we know. Among all these monkeys, at this very moment, some are sleeping. And among these sleeping monkeys, one does a very special dream. This monkey is The Monkey.
In its dream, it imagines creatures that would be similar to it. Since it fell asleep, it has seen these monkeys change, lose their hair, stand on their back limbs, grow, communicate with a complete language… and end up calling themselves “Humans”.
It has seen these Humans waging war and making peace. It has seen these Humans creating mad things. It has seen these Humans being the worst and the best of creatures.
It has seen these Humans organising sounds and making from them what they have called “Music”. And it has seen Music evolve in its own way to become what they named “Heavy Metal”.
The Monkey, in his sleep, slowly headbangs in rythm with the Music the Humans are playing.
These humans think they live, love and die. But they are merely creatures imagined by The Monkey in his sleep.
Everyone knows what the World looks like. A big blue ball lost in the Universe. On this big blue ball, various creatures live together with various degrees of Harmony.
Among all these creatures, only one can dream.
This creature is a butterfly. No one knows what this butterfly looks like, for no one ever saw it. This butterfly has many fellow butterflies, but it is the only one which can dream. It is The Butterfly.
One day, he landed on an opium poppy flowering, and drank the nectar from it, as he would on a any flower. Instantly, it began to dream, his feeding tube still linked to the flower, continuously feeding itself with nectar.
And it dreamt of a world where a monkey, The Monkey, dreams of humans while headbanging. It also dreamt that one day, The Monkey would awaken. And that, stimulated by Heavy Metal, it would take two stones and hit them strongly against each other to find this rhythm which got lost when it woke up.
And from these stones would burst some sparks. And The Monkey would create Fire. Then, monkeys would follow it, lose their hair, stand on their back limbs, and grow, and communicate, and call themselves Humans…
All this is dreamt of by The Butterfly…
But who dreams of The Butterfly ?
The Monkey and The Butterfly
Everyone knows what the World looks like. A big blue ball lost in the Universe. On this big blue ball, various creatures live together with various degrees of Harmony.
Among all these creatures, a very few can dream.
Among these very few are monkeys, similar to the one we know. Among all these monkeys, at this very moment, some are sleeping. And among these sleeping monkeys, one does a very special dream. This monkey is The Monkey.
In its dream, it imagines creatures that would be similar to it. Since it fell asleep, it has seen these monkeys change, lose their hair, stand on their back limbs, grow, communicate with a complete language… and end up calling themselves “Humans”.
It has seen these Humans waging war and making peace. It has seen these Humans creating mad things. It has seen these Humans being the worst and the best of creatures.
It has seen these Humans organising sounds and making from them what they have called “Music”. And it has seen Music evolve in its own way to become what they named “Heavy Metal”.
The Monkey, in his sleep, slowly headbangs in rythm with the Music the Humans are playing.
These humans think they live, love and die. But they are merely creatures imagined by The Monkey in his sleep.
Everyone knows what the World looks like. A big blue ball lost in the Universe. On this big blue ball, various creatures live together with various degrees of Harmony.
Among all these creatures, only one can dream.
This creature is a butterfly. No one knows what this butterfly looks like, for no one ever saw it. This butterfly has many fellow butterflies, but it is the only one which can dream. It is The Butterfly.
One day, he landed on an opium poppy flowering, and drank the nectar from it, as he would on a any flower. Instantly, it began to dream, his feeding tube still linked to the flower, continuously feeding itself with nectar.
And it dreamt of a world where a monkey, The Monkey, dreams of humans while headbanging. It also dreamt that one day, The Monkey would awaken. And that, stimulated by Heavy Metal, it would take two stones and hit them strongly against each other to find this rhythm which got lost when it woke up.
And from these stones would burst some sparks. And The Monkey would create Fire. Then, monkeys would follow it, lose their hair, stand on their back limbs, and grow, and communicate, and call themselves Humans…
All this is dreamt of by The Butterfly…
But who dreams of The Butterfly ?
2007/02/19
Clichés about The French
- French all eat frogs. And snails !
Well... Actually, frogs taste like chicken. Only with a finer flesh. And I have to remind you that we just eat their legs. Anyway, as with all clichés, it is not true for all the French. I know many folks who just can't think about eating a frog. Not to mention snails.
But it has to be said that frogs and snails are generally quite expensive, so they're eaten in good restaurants or for special occasions.
And as I'm with the weird food we French are able to eat, I must confess that I am personally responsible for the death of about a hundred gasteropods. But they taste so good with the garlic butter you put in 'em :P
- We also eat French Donuts all the time.
Sorry to disappoint, but I have no clue about what a French Donut might be... We have some bad imitation of the american donuts, but they're not as good.
Unless French Donuts are what we call beignets. Well, then... We don't eat them all the time. Actually, croissants and pains au chocolat are much more popular. Donuts are commonly associated with Mardi-Gras (which is for sure of french origin, but nowhere as crazy as in New Orleans), and enjoyed as a treat by some, but this is definitely not a feature of the French.
- And as we mention food, we seem to be baguette-crazy.
Actually, baguette is the most common type of bread. Definitely. Still... We don't eat it all the time. Generally not out of meals, anyway.
But I have to recognize that it's pretty common to eat some as "tartines" (slices of bread spread with butter and/or jam or honey, or chocolate spread...) for breakfast (oh, and guess what : we *do* dunk them into our bowl of chocolate or coffee !), sometimes the just go along with lunch, but a baguette cut in two can make an excellent basis for a sandwich, and we have some slices of bread with dinner, in general.
So, I suppose we can be defined as baguette-crazy. Still, I have to debunk a myth : we don't stop at 5pm -whatever we would be doing- to eat a whole baguette. A
(I heard this rumor from a friend in Helsinki... It was a hard time convincing him it just didn't happen)
- We are rude. And not very friendly.
No we're not. Parisians can get a bit touchy at rush hour in the Metro, but I'd say we are just like anywhere else : sometimes people are frowning for no reason, and some people are assholes. But I seriously don't think them to be the norm, neither to be a French specialty. Many French will welcome you arms wide open wherever you come from. And many French will just frown at you. People are people, in France or anywhere else...
- French girls do not shave themselves.
Some do. Actually, most of them do. And some don't. Believe me, French Girls do shave. French men shave too, actually.
- We love to smoke cigarettes.
Again, probably not more than any other people. We recently enforced a law banning smoking from public places, particularly workplaces. It will be appliable to bars and restaurants in early 2008.
The thing is, smokers aren't ashamed ofsmoking... yet. So it is (maybe) a little more visible than in the USA.
But I'd say we're much more attached to wine and drinks than to cigarette.
- We don't want to speak any other language for we are proud of our.
A case doesn't make a rule, but I'd point myself as a counter-example anyway.
Ah well... who am I trying to fool ? Actually, I admit that we aren't very good at foreign languages. We had strong policies to preserve French Culture, and these included a lot of (in my opinion) excessive measures, specially concerning movies and TV shows translations and dubbing.
There is also a problem with the way people learn English or other languages at school.
However, there are still French people who are eager to meet people from all around the world are are just doing their best to manage another (or several other) languages.
Fun fact : according to French, the American and English are the one who don't manage any other language than their own.
- We are well dressed and we look good.
Are we ?! Do we ?!
- We love stinky and moldy cheese.
And we're bloody proud of it ! Seriously, France produces about 200 or more (I didn't check) sorts of cheese, so we have to eat them somehow. Taste is what it is, but if you're disgusted by, say, the bacterias of a Roquefort, realize that your intestine contains a hell more. And they just help you being healthy. Not kidding !
We truly have something with the Cheese. And we tend to be touchy about the pasteurization of it.
Again, bacterias make it good. Pasteurization make it uniform, removes the differences between those wonders of fermentation...
Am I falling into a Cheese-loving discourse, here ?
- We have a hard language to learn.
Depends what you have as a mother tongue... But French tends to be recognized as a hard language to master, indeed... But it is worth it, isn't it ?
Well... Actually, frogs taste like chicken. Only with a finer flesh. And I have to remind you that we just eat their legs. Anyway, as with all clichés, it is not true for all the French. I know many folks who just can't think about eating a frog. Not to mention snails.
But it has to be said that frogs and snails are generally quite expensive, so they're eaten in good restaurants or for special occasions.
And as I'm with the weird food we French are able to eat, I must confess that I am personally responsible for the death of about a hundred gasteropods. But they taste so good with the garlic butter you put in 'em :P
- We also eat French Donuts all the time.
Sorry to disappoint, but I have no clue about what a French Donut might be... We have some bad imitation of the american donuts, but they're not as good.
Unless French Donuts are what we call beignets. Well, then... We don't eat them all the time. Actually, croissants and pains au chocolat are much more popular. Donuts are commonly associated with Mardi-Gras (which is for sure of french origin, but nowhere as crazy as in New Orleans), and enjoyed as a treat by some, but this is definitely not a feature of the French.
- And as we mention food, we seem to be baguette-crazy.
Actually, baguette is the most common type of bread. Definitely. Still... We don't eat it all the time. Generally not out of meals, anyway.
But I have to recognize that it's pretty common to eat some as "tartines" (slices of bread spread with butter and/or jam or honey, or chocolate spread...) for breakfast (oh, and guess what : we *do* dunk them into our bowl of chocolate or coffee !), sometimes the just go along with lunch, but a baguette cut in two can make an excellent basis for a sandwich, and we have some slices of bread with dinner, in general.
So, I suppose we can be defined as baguette-crazy. Still, I have to debunk a myth : we don't stop at 5pm -whatever we would be doing- to eat a whole baguette. A
(I heard this rumor from a friend in Helsinki... It was a hard time convincing him it just didn't happen)
- We are rude. And not very friendly.
No we're not. Parisians can get a bit touchy at rush hour in the Metro, but I'd say we are just like anywhere else : sometimes people are frowning for no reason, and some people are assholes. But I seriously don't think them to be the norm, neither to be a French specialty. Many French will welcome you arms wide open wherever you come from. And many French will just frown at you. People are people, in France or anywhere else...
- French girls do not shave themselves.
Some do. Actually, most of them do. And some don't. Believe me, French Girls do shave. French men shave too, actually.
- We love to smoke cigarettes.
Again, probably not more than any other people. We recently enforced a law banning smoking from public places, particularly workplaces. It will be appliable to bars and restaurants in early 2008.
The thing is, smokers aren't ashamed ofsmoking... yet. So it is (maybe) a little more visible than in the USA.
But I'd say we're much more attached to wine and drinks than to cigarette.
- We don't want to speak any other language for we are proud of our.
A case doesn't make a rule, but I'd point myself as a counter-example anyway.
Ah well... who am I trying to fool ? Actually, I admit that we aren't very good at foreign languages. We had strong policies to preserve French Culture, and these included a lot of (in my opinion) excessive measures, specially concerning movies and TV shows translations and dubbing.
There is also a problem with the way people learn English or other languages at school.
However, there are still French people who are eager to meet people from all around the world are are just doing their best to manage another (or several other) languages.
Fun fact : according to French, the American and English are the one who don't manage any other language than their own.
- We are well dressed and we look good.
Are we ?! Do we ?!
- We love stinky and moldy cheese.
And we're bloody proud of it ! Seriously, France produces about 200 or more (I didn't check) sorts of cheese, so we have to eat them somehow. Taste is what it is, but if you're disgusted by, say, the bacterias of a Roquefort, realize that your intestine contains a hell more. And they just help you being healthy. Not kidding !
We truly have something with the Cheese. And we tend to be touchy about the pasteurization of it.
Again, bacterias make it good. Pasteurization make it uniform, removes the differences between those wonders of fermentation...
Am I falling into a Cheese-loving discourse, here ?
- We have a hard language to learn.
Depends what you have as a mother tongue... But French tends to be recognized as a hard language to master, indeed... But it is worth it, isn't it ?
2007/02/15
Call for stereotypes...
If by any chance I have any non-French reader(s), I'd be quite grateful for any stereotypes they have about the French in order to see what is real, and what is not in an article to come.
Merci !
Merci !
2007/02/13
English Grammar in French
Today, I had a conversation with an Austrian exchange student.
She is in Paris to learn about English and French, which seems a perfectly convenient choice.
But there is something she doesn't understand, and since we talked about it, neither do I.
English grammar courses are taught in French.
I just can't figure why it is so.
My first reaction could have been : "Well, it's easier this way, since we use a specific vocabulary we first acquired in junior high..."
But then, so do we in Literature or Cultural Studies. Literary criticism is done with specific terms, demographic or sociological studies are done with a vocabulary we generally heard of years ago in Geography classes...
Plus, it can be quite unsettling for the Erasmus students who honor us with their will to study English here. I mean, they could have gone to England for this purpose, still they chose France. Aren't we supposed to feel proud about that ? Aren't we supposed to try to confirm that we can indeed teach English as well as the English themselves ?
Then, is it that we feel so proud to be French that even we it's all about another language, we need to show off how good our language is ?
Or, and that might be a little too harsh but I'm seriously beginning to feel this is probably the closest answer to the truth, we don't realize that people who study English can actually understand it. When we chose to go to the University in order to learn English, do they really think it was because we felt uncapable of understanding it ?
Well, if that was the case, even though I don't delusion myself with the range of this message, we have to realize that the students who chose English want to know more about something they are already familiar with. It's never been about "English for Beginners", here.
And we, students, were able to use translated technical words in Literature or Cultural Studies, we can definitely use translated terms in Grammar and Linguistics too.
For the difference between "subject" and "sujet" is quite the same as the difference between "epithet" and "épithète" : these words are all distorted Latin.
She is in Paris to learn about English and French, which seems a perfectly convenient choice.
But there is something she doesn't understand, and since we talked about it, neither do I.
English grammar courses are taught in French.
I just can't figure why it is so.
My first reaction could have been : "Well, it's easier this way, since we use a specific vocabulary we first acquired in junior high..."
But then, so do we in Literature or Cultural Studies. Literary criticism is done with specific terms, demographic or sociological studies are done with a vocabulary we generally heard of years ago in Geography classes...
Plus, it can be quite unsettling for the Erasmus students who honor us with their will to study English here. I mean, they could have gone to England for this purpose, still they chose France. Aren't we supposed to feel proud about that ? Aren't we supposed to try to confirm that we can indeed teach English as well as the English themselves ?
Then, is it that we feel so proud to be French that even we it's all about another language, we need to show off how good our language is ?
Or, and that might be a little too harsh but I'm seriously beginning to feel this is probably the closest answer to the truth, we don't realize that people who study English can actually understand it. When we chose to go to the University in order to learn English, do they really think it was because we felt uncapable of understanding it ?
Well, if that was the case, even though I don't delusion myself with the range of this message, we have to realize that the students who chose English want to know more about something they are already familiar with. It's never been about "English for Beginners", here.
And we, students, were able to use translated technical words in Literature or Cultural Studies, we can definitely use translated terms in Grammar and Linguistics too.
For the difference between "subject" and "sujet" is quite the same as the difference between "epithet" and "épithète" : these words are all distorted Latin.
2007/02/12
I'm not dead. Not quite.
Sorry for the quite long time between last note and this one, I had some connection problems with Bugger.com.
"Blogger", you say ? Is it really a coincidence if both sound so close anyway ?
Whatever.
My point here is not to spit on Blogger.com, for even though it seems to be impossible to get connected to it on Firefox, MS Internet Explorer works fine.
My point here is... Hey, what is my point here ?
What could I write about ?
Let's see...
- Karate : I ain't no Chuck Norris nor am I a Jean-Claude Van Damme fan, I don't feel like looking like a martial arts nerd, and I wrote something about it on my French blog. Consider you're not missing anything.
- Watching sports live : No sir. The only exception I do to my usual motto (Watching Sports is bad, doing Sports is barely more acceptable) is some Karate practice for I have some energy to evacuate, and, I confess, watching Ice Hockey games when I have the occasion... It happened once (Finland-Sweden, in Finland), it is actually going to happen a second time (French Cup finals, wednesday). But what can I say that haven't been said a dozen thousand times ?
- Cultural differences between the French and the British : Well, for one, Frog legs are tasty. Either you can admit this opinion, then you're open-minded and I don't have to tell you about Culture Shock, or you just love French Bashing, and there's nothing I can do for you. OK, it is not that simple, and I probably could do better but I don't have much inspiration about it right now.
- Heavy Metal : well, I sure love the genre (by the way, I love the way you English-speaking people pronounce that word), but what can I say about it without making a fool of myself ? If I praise the technicalities, rocketing solos, baffling rythms, I'll sound like a snob. If I just let my guts talk about the feelings I experience from the raspy vocals, the crazed riffs... I'll sound like some kind of dope fiend.
So I'll do what many bloggers do : I'll write to say nothing.
I'll actually express Nothingness through my writings. The Nature of the Void will flow in my hollow words.
Thus, I'll be quite a poser in the Nihilist category. I can even quote Nietzsche to make myself look more nihilistic and smarter in the same time.
Praise whoever you'll feel like praising for the existence of The Blog, my friends.
And stay tuned, next time I will talk about Guinea pig's migrations through Siberia in the late VIIth century.
Or about just anything else.
"Blogger", you say ? Is it really a coincidence if both sound so close anyway ?
Whatever.
My point here is not to spit on Blogger.com, for even though it seems to be impossible to get connected to it on Firefox, MS Internet Explorer works fine.
My point here is... Hey, what is my point here ?
What could I write about ?
Let's see...
- Karate : I ain't no Chuck Norris nor am I a Jean-Claude Van Damme fan, I don't feel like looking like a martial arts nerd, and I wrote something about it on my French blog. Consider you're not missing anything.
- Watching sports live : No sir. The only exception I do to my usual motto (Watching Sports is bad, doing Sports is barely more acceptable) is some Karate practice for I have some energy to evacuate, and, I confess, watching Ice Hockey games when I have the occasion... It happened once (Finland-Sweden, in Finland), it is actually going to happen a second time (French Cup finals, wednesday). But what can I say that haven't been said a dozen thousand times ?
- Cultural differences between the French and the British : Well, for one, Frog legs are tasty. Either you can admit this opinion, then you're open-minded and I don't have to tell you about Culture Shock, or you just love French Bashing, and there's nothing I can do for you. OK, it is not that simple, and I probably could do better but I don't have much inspiration about it right now.
- Heavy Metal : well, I sure love the genre (by the way, I love the way you English-speaking people pronounce that word), but what can I say about it without making a fool of myself ? If I praise the technicalities, rocketing solos, baffling rythms, I'll sound like a snob. If I just let my guts talk about the feelings I experience from the raspy vocals, the crazed riffs... I'll sound like some kind of dope fiend.
So I'll do what many bloggers do : I'll write to say nothing.
I'll actually express Nothingness through my writings. The Nature of the Void will flow in my hollow words.
Thus, I'll be quite a poser in the Nihilist category. I can even quote Nietzsche to make myself look more nihilistic and smarter in the same time.
Praise whoever you'll feel like praising for the existence of The Blog, my friends.
And stay tuned, next time I will talk about Guinea pig's migrations through Siberia in the late VIIth century.
Or about just anything else.
2007/01/31
Pamela, Round 14
Julian McJab : Laaadies and Gentlemen, this is Julian McJab, welcome in the late Lady B's Estate for this fourteenth match of the season. Tonight's verbal-boxing fight will oppose, in the RED corner, Mrs Jerviiiiis ! Yes, as in "The estate's House-keeper". That very Jervis will confront, in the BLUE corner, Mister B himself !
Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, the Master of this domain himself honours us with his presence in this match !
Just let me remind you that the stakes are hiiiigh tonight !
Mr.B. is here to crush Pamela's Reputation and Virtue, while trying to probe the extent of Mrs. Jervis awareness of the situation at the estate... Mrs Jervis will have the difficult task of protecting Pamela's Honour without letting appear that she knows what Mr. B. did to her... She can lever on Mr. B's impossibility to reveal what he's been up for... but will that be enough ?
We let this story's details to the tabloids, let's get to the action...
And the verbal fight starts NOW !
Mr. B. : Well, Mrs. Jervis, I know Pamela has your good word; but do you think her of any use in the family?
Mrs. Jervis : She is one of the most virtuous and industrious young creatures that ever I knew.
JMcJ : Mister B throws a classic start, a short feint, parried by a defense probably lacking creativity, but completely efficient... unless...
Mr. B. : Why that word virtuous, I pray you? Was there any reason to suppose her otherwise? Or has anybody taken it into his head to try her?--
JMcJ : Just as I feared ! Here we go ! Mr B. throws a sudden attack through Mrs. Jervis's flaw in defense...
Mrs. Jervis : I wonder, sir, you ask such a question! Who dare offer any thing to her in such an orderly and well-governed house as yours, and under a master of so good a character
for virtue and honour?
JMcJ : Oh man ! Jervis seems to parry painfully but she counterattacks ! See how she flatters her Master --
Mr. B. : Your servant, Mrs. Jervis, for your good opinion. But pray, if any body did, do you think Pamela would let you know it?
JMcJ : Mr. B. is completely fair-play on that one, he lets it pass, it honours him totally... Yet he doesn't let Mrs. Jervis much time before he comes back with an innocent looking question... He disguised a badass blow in a seemingly harmless feint !
Mrs. Jervis : Why, sir, said she, she is a poor innocent young creature, and I believe has so much confidence in me, that she would take my advice as soon as she would her mother's.
JMcJ : Awww, Mrs Jervis falls in the trap, victim of her own honesty...
Mr. B. : Innocent! again, and virtuous, I warrant! Well, Mrs. Jervis, you abound with your epithets; but I take her to be an artful young baggage; and had I a young handsome butler or steward, she'd soon make her market of one of them, if she thought it worth while to snap at him for a husband.
JMcJ : No way ! She was actually taunting Mr. B. with her on-the-fly compliments to Ms. Pamela ! He starts to look angry... making straight accusatory blows towards Mrs. Jervis's protégé !
Mrs. Jervis : Alack-a-day, sir, it is early days with Pamela; and she does not yet think of a husband, I dare say: and your steward and butler are both men in years, and think nothing of the matter. No, if they were younger, they'd have more wit than to think of such a girl;
JMcJ : Look ! Look ! See ? She counterattacked as directly as he striked ! She implies he's witless and keeps Ms. Pamela protected far behind her guard !
Mr. B. : I'll tell you my mind of her, Mrs. Jervis: I don't think this same favourite of yours so very artless a girl as you imagine.
JMcJ : B takes the blow, and insists on his direct assaults to Ms. Pamela's reputation... Mrs. Jervis is taking the advantage !
Mrs. Jervis : I am not to dispute with your honour, but I dare say, if the men will let her alone, she'll never trouble herself about them.
JMcJ : Good LORD ! She put herself out of range by highlighting her humility, still in the process she manages to hit one more time with a superb innuendo -
Mr. B. : Why, Mrs. Jervis, are there any men that will not let her alone, that you know of?
JMcJ : But he's a cunning fighter, he gets closer and strikes back in a heartbeat ! Will Mrs. Jervis be able to keep her knowledge obfuscated ?!
Mrs. Jervis : No, indeed, sir, she keeps herself so much to herself, and yet behaves so prudently, that they all esteem her, and shew her as great a respect as if she was a gentlewoman born.
JMcJ : Quite an answer but... she opens her guard...
Mr. B. : Ay, that's her art, that I was speaking of: but, let me tell you, the girl has vanity and conceit, and pride too, or I am mistaken; and, perhaps, I could give you an instance of it.
JMcJ : Aye, Mr. B. took advantage of it, rushing in the breach, he attacks on Pamela's pride... The situation reversed, Mrs. Jervis is on a less solid ground she was a minute ago !!!
Mrs. Jervis : Sir, said she, you can see farther than such a poor silly woman as I am; but I never saw any thing but innocence in her--
Mr. B. : And virtue too, I'll warrant ye! said he. But suppose I could give you an instance, where she has talked a little too freely of the kindnesses that have been shewn her from a certain
quarter; and has had the vanity to impute a few kind words, uttered in mere compassion to her youth and circumstances, into a design upon her, and even dared to make free with names that she ought never to mention but with reverence and gratitude; what would you say to that?--
JMcJ : It was a trap ! Mr B. was awaiting such a reaction, the classic combination "humility + compliments", but it seems it's been used one time too many ! And B comes up with a heavy blow... But is it as heavy as it looks... No, there was too much of a supposition, here ! Mrs Jervis is on her knees, but maybe she'll rise up again...
Mrs. Jervis : Say, sir! I cannot tell what to say. But I hope Pamela incapable of such
ingratitude.
JMcJ : She hides again behind honest disarray... She fiercely guards Pamela's honour and reputation...
Mr. B. : Well, no more of this silly girl, says he; you may only advise her, as you are her friend, not to give herself too much licence upon the favours she meets with; and if she stays here, that she will not write the affairs of my family purely for an exercise to her pen, and her invention. I tell you she is a subtle, artful gipsy, and time will shew it you.
JMcJ : What ? What ?! Mr. B. is calling it DRAW ! He seemed to change the subject, which would have made him retreat from the ring, thus lose the match, but he finally makes an unexpected comeback right before crossing the line, with a vague threat to which Mrs. B. can't answer... Will the jury call it a draw or give victory to Mr. B. ? Ah, they seem not to be able to make a call... draw, victory, draw.... YES ! It's a DRAW ! Mr. B. didn't confess what he did but neither did Mrs Jervis confess what she knew !
What ?! The Jury finally gives victory to Mr. B. for he learnt what he wanted through Mrs Jervis's revelation of Pamela's trust into her... That's a victory on the edge, but a vistory anyway.
Ladies and Gentlemen, that was the helluva confrontation, but there's much more to come, season's just beginning !
(original text adapted from Samuel Richardson's Pamela or virtue rewarded, letter XIV)
Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, the Master of this domain himself honours us with his presence in this match !
Just let me remind you that the stakes are hiiiigh tonight !
Mr.B. is here to crush Pamela's Reputation and Virtue, while trying to probe the extent of Mrs. Jervis awareness of the situation at the estate... Mrs Jervis will have the difficult task of protecting Pamela's Honour without letting appear that she knows what Mr. B. did to her... She can lever on Mr. B's impossibility to reveal what he's been up for... but will that be enough ?
We let this story's details to the tabloids, let's get to the action...
And the verbal fight starts NOW !
Mr. B. : Well, Mrs. Jervis, I know Pamela has your good word; but do you think her of any use in the family?
Mrs. Jervis : She is one of the most virtuous and industrious young creatures that ever I knew.
JMcJ : Mister B throws a classic start, a short feint, parried by a defense probably lacking creativity, but completely efficient... unless...
Mr. B. : Why that word virtuous, I pray you? Was there any reason to suppose her otherwise? Or has anybody taken it into his head to try her?--
JMcJ : Just as I feared ! Here we go ! Mr B. throws a sudden attack through Mrs. Jervis's flaw in defense...
Mrs. Jervis : I wonder, sir, you ask such a question! Who dare offer any thing to her in such an orderly and well-governed house as yours, and under a master of so good a character
for virtue and honour?
JMcJ : Oh man ! Jervis seems to parry painfully but she counterattacks ! See how she flatters her Master --
Mr. B. : Your servant, Mrs. Jervis, for your good opinion. But pray, if any body did, do you think Pamela would let you know it?
JMcJ : Mr. B. is completely fair-play on that one, he lets it pass, it honours him totally... Yet he doesn't let Mrs. Jervis much time before he comes back with an innocent looking question... He disguised a badass blow in a seemingly harmless feint !
Mrs. Jervis : Why, sir, said she, she is a poor innocent young creature, and I believe has so much confidence in me, that she would take my advice as soon as she would her mother's.
JMcJ : Awww, Mrs Jervis falls in the trap, victim of her own honesty...
Mr. B. : Innocent! again, and virtuous, I warrant! Well, Mrs. Jervis, you abound with your epithets; but I take her to be an artful young baggage; and had I a young handsome butler or steward, she'd soon make her market of one of them, if she thought it worth while to snap at him for a husband.
JMcJ : No way ! She was actually taunting Mr. B. with her on-the-fly compliments to Ms. Pamela ! He starts to look angry... making straight accusatory blows towards Mrs. Jervis's protégé !
Mrs. Jervis : Alack-a-day, sir, it is early days with Pamela; and she does not yet think of a husband, I dare say: and your steward and butler are both men in years, and think nothing of the matter. No, if they were younger, they'd have more wit than to think of such a girl;
JMcJ : Look ! Look ! See ? She counterattacked as directly as he striked ! She implies he's witless and keeps Ms. Pamela protected far behind her guard !
Mr. B. : I'll tell you my mind of her, Mrs. Jervis: I don't think this same favourite of yours so very artless a girl as you imagine.
JMcJ : B takes the blow, and insists on his direct assaults to Ms. Pamela's reputation... Mrs. Jervis is taking the advantage !
Mrs. Jervis : I am not to dispute with your honour, but I dare say, if the men will let her alone, she'll never trouble herself about them.
JMcJ : Good LORD ! She put herself out of range by highlighting her humility, still in the process she manages to hit one more time with a superb innuendo -
Mr. B. : Why, Mrs. Jervis, are there any men that will not let her alone, that you know of?
JMcJ : But he's a cunning fighter, he gets closer and strikes back in a heartbeat ! Will Mrs. Jervis be able to keep her knowledge obfuscated ?!
Mrs. Jervis : No, indeed, sir, she keeps herself so much to herself, and yet behaves so prudently, that they all esteem her, and shew her as great a respect as if she was a gentlewoman born.
JMcJ : Quite an answer but... she opens her guard...
Mr. B. : Ay, that's her art, that I was speaking of: but, let me tell you, the girl has vanity and conceit, and pride too, or I am mistaken; and, perhaps, I could give you an instance of it.
JMcJ : Aye, Mr. B. took advantage of it, rushing in the breach, he attacks on Pamela's pride... The situation reversed, Mrs. Jervis is on a less solid ground she was a minute ago !!!
Mrs. Jervis : Sir, said she, you can see farther than such a poor silly woman as I am; but I never saw any thing but innocence in her--
Mr. B. : And virtue too, I'll warrant ye! said he. But suppose I could give you an instance, where she has talked a little too freely of the kindnesses that have been shewn her from a certain
quarter; and has had the vanity to impute a few kind words, uttered in mere compassion to her youth and circumstances, into a design upon her, and even dared to make free with names that she ought never to mention but with reverence and gratitude; what would you say to that?--
JMcJ : It was a trap ! Mr B. was awaiting such a reaction, the classic combination "humility + compliments", but it seems it's been used one time too many ! And B comes up with a heavy blow... But is it as heavy as it looks... No, there was too much of a supposition, here ! Mrs Jervis is on her knees, but maybe she'll rise up again...
Mrs. Jervis : Say, sir! I cannot tell what to say. But I hope Pamela incapable of such
ingratitude.
JMcJ : She hides again behind honest disarray... She fiercely guards Pamela's honour and reputation...
Mr. B. : Well, no more of this silly girl, says he; you may only advise her, as you are her friend, not to give herself too much licence upon the favours she meets with; and if she stays here, that she will not write the affairs of my family purely for an exercise to her pen, and her invention. I tell you she is a subtle, artful gipsy, and time will shew it you.
JMcJ : What ? What ?! Mr. B. is calling it DRAW ! He seemed to change the subject, which would have made him retreat from the ring, thus lose the match, but he finally makes an unexpected comeback right before crossing the line, with a vague threat to which Mrs. B. can't answer... Will the jury call it a draw or give victory to Mr. B. ? Ah, they seem not to be able to make a call... draw, victory, draw.... YES ! It's a DRAW ! Mr. B. didn't confess what he did but neither did Mrs Jervis confess what she knew !
What ?! The Jury finally gives victory to Mr. B. for he learnt what he wanted through Mrs Jervis's revelation of Pamela's trust into her... That's a victory on the edge, but a vistory anyway.
Ladies and Gentlemen, that was the helluva confrontation, but there's much more to come, season's just beginning !
(original text adapted from Samuel Richardson's Pamela or virtue rewarded, letter XIV)
2007/01/30
As things go...
I admit it. I was quite out of inspiration yesterday. Hence the reedition of my paper.
I think this blog has somehow and quite quickly found some editorial line indeed.
As things go, it will be dedicated to any work worth publishing, that is any essay on a not-too-boring subject, preferably in Brit cultural studies even though some litterary considerations may come in at times.
Plus, not to be too "let's publish my homework so that zillions of people can contemplate my utter mediocrity" (and I know, I'm pretty arrogant, using "zillions". Replace the Z with an M), I'll put in here, as I said before, any commentary from my puzzled brain that non-French English-speaking readers might appreciate.
Subjects like :
- Why are those damn froggies so pretentious, foreignaffairswise ? (because we're right !)
- Why the hell are college English courses taught in.. FRENCH ?! (because we're French !)
- What in the world can push these people to eat frog legs and snails ? (the same thing that makes Brits eat Marmite !)
- And why, oh why, can't they speak English like anybody in the free world ? (see question 2)
(I'll treat these questions with longer and smarter (as much as possible) answers later, I promise)
I think this blog has somehow and quite quickly found some editorial line indeed.
As things go, it will be dedicated to any work worth publishing, that is any essay on a not-too-boring subject, preferably in Brit cultural studies even though some litterary considerations may come in at times.
Plus, not to be too "let's publish my homework so that zillions of people can contemplate my utter mediocrity" (and I know, I'm pretty arrogant, using "zillions". Replace the Z with an M), I'll put in here, as I said before, any commentary from my puzzled brain that non-French English-speaking readers might appreciate.
Subjects like :
- Why are those damn froggies so pretentious, foreignaffairswise ? (because we're right !)
- Why the hell are college English courses taught in.. FRENCH ?! (because we're French !)
- What in the world can push these people to eat frog legs and snails ? (the same thing that makes Brits eat Marmite !)
- And why, oh why, can't they speak English like anybody in the free world ? (see question 2)
(I'll treat these questions with longer and smarter (as much as possible) answers later, I promise)
2007/01/29
Essay for a course in British Cultural Studies v.1.2
Well, finally I ended up presenting the "essay" I published yesterday...
I spent 15' at work rewriting some parts, correcting stuff.
And I was able to read the stuff through. It's still far from complete, there are several topics that I could have dug deeper... And the oral version was quite different. Still, if you haven't read version 1.0, enjoy 1.1, for it is far much more readable, a bit more academic in tone, and much better organized.
Basically, I should have added a quick explanation about the Commission for Racial Equality, created in 1976 and being the only organization entitled to enforce the law about Racial Equality.
And some point about the use of the word race, and blah blah blah. But if anyone wants to complete this analysis, they're -again- completely welcome.
And if you don't read it, I'll tell St George !
I spent 15' at work rewriting some parts, correcting stuff.
And I was able to read the stuff through. It's still far from complete, there are several topics that I could have dug deeper... And the oral version was quite different. Still, if you haven't read version 1.0, enjoy 1.1, for it is far much more readable, a bit more academic in tone, and much better organized.
Basically, I should have added a quick explanation about the Commission for Racial Equality, created in 1976 and being the only organization entitled to enforce the law about Racial Equality.
And some point about the use of the word race, and blah blah blah. But if anyone wants to complete this analysis, they're -again- completely welcome.
And if you don't read it, I'll tell St George !
"Cry God for Harry, England and St George. It's a shame none of us south of the Border can cry it too loudly or we'll probably find ourselves up before the Commission for Racial Equality. The English have become a race in denial"
- The Daily Mail, April 23 rd , 1996.
First, what is this cry, and why should anybody want to yell it out in England? For the "Border" is referring to the border between Thistle-Land and Rose-land, the southerne part of it being England.
The cry is a quotation from Shakespeare’s play King Henry V (act III, sc. 1) and is calling upon the Patron Saint of England, St George. This Patron Saint's day happens to be April 23rd, which is why the Daily Mail published this article that very day: it was quite a topical text.
Are The English a race in denial indeed? What does the author mean by that?
Actually, the author expresses the point of view that the English are not allowed to be openly proud of their origins for it would cause them to be sued for racial discrimination.
To what extent is this sentence, a war cry indeed, acceptable in 21st century Britain? And where does the thin line between Nationalism and racism stand? We will focus at first on the “race” and its denial, the identity expressed through claiming to be part of a people, and also why could a Scot be proud to be Scot if an Englishman isn’t allowed to be proud to be English. That shall lead us to take a look at the extreme expressions of Nationalism, that is to say racism and xenophobia, and the way they are impacting on immigrated populations.
First, what might be wrong in expressing one's identity inside his or her own country?
Crying out loud one's Englishness in England doesn’t seem very useful, but doesn't seem harmful either. For saying "I'm a real English" doesn't make you say "...and you're not", but something closer to "...and join me in a celebration of it". After all, what is St George's day supposed to be if not an occasion to make Englishmen join other Englishmen into celebration and thus creating social links? So what would be wrong into calling upon said St George to protect England?
For England has united Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland in United Kingdom, still each nation keeps its patron Saint (respectively Andrew, David and Patrick) and its identity. The problem here is that Scots have the right to be proud of their Scottishness, Welshes of their Whelshness, and Irish of their Irishness. In the name of Equality, English should also be allowed to be proud of their Englishness.
Or should they? For the formulation of the sentence definitely evokes a peril, a threat to be protected from. There were always tensions between the nations in United Kingdom, specially since Nationalist parties have risen to power in Scotland, Wales and Ireland (in the latter case, leading to a conflict that is still unresolved). And there are the others, from other parts of the World, immigrating in Britain and making some people feel nervous about the survival of their identity.
But Britain is not much of a melting pot: according to 1991 census, 5.5% of its population are considering themselves as being from another ethnicity.
Still, these 5.5% are looking threatening to some people. And those people tend to be quite demonstrative of their hostility, often leading to racist insults and discourses.
For St George's Cross (red on white) is heavily used by the British National Party as a symbol (just take a look to their website's homepage), and St George and Englishness are typical rally points for these nationalists who refuse immigration and openly flirt with racism.
For nationalism is to be proud of one's own Nation. Indeed, but to be proud of something, doesn't it have to be better than the other choices? The step from "I'm proud to be English" to "because English are superior to you all!" is easily crossed...
This confusion is thus very easy to do for a third-party observer. For one can't say at first eyesight (or hearing) if one's just proud to be what one is or if one's actually putting some racist thesis in innuendo.
In the end, if being openly proud of one’s own Englishness is not a crime, it can turn to one quite easily depending on the words chosen to express this feeling of identity. What nationalists just don’t see is that England has evolved through centuries. By creating United Kingdom, England has made itself part of a bigger thing. With the waves of Immigration fro various regions of the world since the 17th century, England (and more generally Britain) has taken a more various ethnic profile. So maybe it is just time to find a new rallying cry for people proud to be English, cry that would include other ethnicities in its meaning
2007/01/28
Essay for a course in British Cultural Studies (WARNING : Long article)
“Cry God for
- The Daily Mail, April 23rd, 1996.
Honestly, I don't feel confident about it.
So let's just try here, where I can definitely afford explaining too much details, getting completely out of the subject, use quite a familiar tone, and so on.
Well, Let's do it then.
First, what the heck is this cry, and why should anybody want to yell it out in England ? For the "Border" is definitely referring to the border between ThistleLand and RoseLand. The cry is a quotation from Shalespeare's play "King Henry V", act III, sc. 1, and is calling upon the Patron Saint of England, St George. This Patron Saint's day happens to be April 23rd, which is why the article on that day's Daily Mail was referring to it, not so out-of-the-blue.
But are The English a race in denial indeed ? What the heck does the author mean, here ?
Actually, the author means that the English are not allowed to be proud of their origins for it would cause them to be sued for racial discrimination.
To what extent is this sentence, a warcry indeed, acceptable in 21th century Britain ? And where is the oh-so-thin line between Nationalism and Racism ? That's what we're going to study from a little bit closer.
First, what might be wrong in expressing one's identity inside his or her own country ?
Crying out loud one's Englishness in England doens't seem very useful, but doesn't seem harmful either. For saying "I'm a real English" doesn't make you say "...and you're not", but something closer to "...and join me in a celebration". After all, what is St George's day supposed to be if not a occasion to make Englishmen join other Englishmen into celebration and thus creating social links ? So what would be wrong into calling upon said St George to protect England ?
Maybe the answer lies into another question : to protect it from what ? From some exterior threat, maybe ?
For England has united Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland in United Kingdom, still each nation keeps its patron Saint (respectively Andrew, David and Patrick) and its identity. The problem for the author here being that Scots have the right to be proud of their Scottishness, Welshes of their Whelshness, and Irish of their Irishness... And even though there were always tensions between said nations and England, they're not supposed to put a threat to it.
Then there are the outsiders, from other parts of the World. Britain is not much of a melting pot : according to 1991 census, 5.5% of its population are considering themselves as being from another ethinicity. Well, 5.5% of immigrants ain't that threatening, ain't it ?
Actually, these 5.5% are threatenting to some people.
For St George's Cross (red on white) is heavily used by the British National Party as a symbol (just take a look to their website's homepage...), and St George and Englishness are typical rally points for these nationalists, refusing immigration and flirting (sometimes doing more than that) with racism.
For nationalism is to be proud of one's own Nation. Indeed, but to be proud of something, doesn't it have to be better than the other choices ? The step from "I'm proud to be English..." to "...because you other people suck !" is easily crossed...
This confusion is thus very easy to do for a third-party observer. For one can't say at first eyesight (or hearing) if one's just proud to be what one is or if one's actually putting some racist thesis in inuendo.
In the end, boasting about one's nationality to someone one doesn't know let's this someone free to interprete the message. And as we saw, the interpretation is easily twisted towards a racist and xenophobic one, justifying an appeal to the CRE. Even if the yelling lad didn't mean anything rash to non-English people. The whole problem thus could be said to come from an amalgam in collective consciousness between nationalism and xenophobia, but as things go, this amalgam is very often justified.
...
Damn, I can't seriously present this to my professor. It ain't complete, probably not as coherent as it should be... I think I won't volunteer for an exposé on that subject.
Still, if you want to react and make the whole thing more coherent, or add some information, please do !
Stay tuned.
2007/01/27
And now, let's talk about death ! - naaah, kidding
Yeah, of course I'm kidding ! I wouldn't want to lose the few readers I may have so rapidly.
Well, that doesn't say what I'm gonna blab about, I know.
...
Metallica's Master of puppets resounds in the room as I listen to a recording of my own voice singing it a capella. Either the microphone wasn't that good, either my voice was. It's probably a little bit of both, as I can sing, but still make some mistakes and don't have perfect control over my voice. On the other hand, my webcam's mic is far too sensitive, it filled the track with the computer's humming and was clearly overdriven when I pushed my voice too loud...
...
I tried myself at playing the clarinet tonight... I made the instrument emit some melodious sounds - meddled with some high-pitched whistles in between. I think I'm gonna try a lil' bit harder next time, to see if I can play a "fixed" tune, instead of just lining up notes one after another...
...
Talking about music, I'm really thinking about creating my own sound. After all, what can't one do with a decent computer, eh ? record, cut, edit, mix... and try to create my own personal music. In any case, not meant to be enjoyed by anyone else than me, but in case some are nuts enough to like it, I'll make it public one way or another.
...
I said this blog wasn't supposed to be about me ? Well... I'll make an article about what blogs are about, one of these days, but in my opinion, a blog is always more or less about its writer.
...
If you feel like saying something wise about all this, please do !
Stay tuned.
Well, that doesn't say what I'm gonna blab about, I know.
...
Metallica's Master of puppets resounds in the room as I listen to a recording of my own voice singing it a capella. Either the microphone wasn't that good, either my voice was. It's probably a little bit of both, as I can sing, but still make some mistakes and don't have perfect control over my voice. On the other hand, my webcam's mic is far too sensitive, it filled the track with the computer's humming and was clearly overdriven when I pushed my voice too loud...
...
I tried myself at playing the clarinet tonight... I made the instrument emit some melodious sounds - meddled with some high-pitched whistles in between. I think I'm gonna try a lil' bit harder next time, to see if I can play a "fixed" tune, instead of just lining up notes one after another...
...
Talking about music, I'm really thinking about creating my own sound. After all, what can't one do with a decent computer, eh ? record, cut, edit, mix... and try to create my own personal music. In any case, not meant to be enjoyed by anyone else than me, but in case some are nuts enough to like it, I'll make it public one way or another.
...
I said this blog wasn't supposed to be about me ? Well... I'll make an article about what blogs are about, one of these days, but in my opinion, a blog is always more or less about its writer.
...
If you feel like saying something wise about all this, please do !
Stay tuned.
2007/01/26
Let's start this blog with a cheerful and happy topic : breaking up
No I haven't broke up with anyone lately, for I haven't been with anybody lately. Here I'm just inspired by the story of a friend of mine, whom I hope will forgive this use of her mishaps as a start for a general reflexion on love and, more specifically, its ending.
What leads to a breaking up is hard to know beforehand. There would probably be no separation then, for one could see it coming and thus act in order to try to avoid it. There are as many possible reasons as there have been breaking-ups in the whole story of Mankind.
Still, sometimes, things just don't work, or don't work anymore.
Whose fault is that ? Sometimes (and quite frequently indeed) nobody's, for being oneself is hardly criticizable at all... And being oneself is often the one reason why you end up tiring your once-significant other.
Just because one gets tired of this special person one loved for a while doesn't mean the soon-to-be-ex is supposed to enter a fit of mad anger, stopping to think, and talking much faster than one should...
Well, I hear you thinking from here... "Love is passion, and passion is uncontrolable...".
True enough. Still, people should always remain conscious of a very simple fact that eases everything : in our "occidental" societies (at least), women are now considered (at least theoretically) equal to men. AND slavery is commonly recognized as a crime (and thus abolished).
Knowing this, people should always remain conscious that your significant other doesn't belong to you. He/She is just another fully free human being, free to give you Love at a time for no reason at all and stop giving it for the same absence of reason.
And any person who wants to deserve being considered as a responsible adult should, in my opinion, understand and respect this freedom.
I know how painful it can be, but this is your pain, your friends are here to help you deal with it, you are absolutely not entitled to try to turn it back towards your recent ex.
And as far as friends and relatives are concerned, their role should not be to show you what an awful person your ex was, but to distract you from a painful topic... By changing your ideas by any means necessary.
In my opinion, couple stories are (or should be) of very little concern to anybody not concerned (that is [world poplation] minus 2) anyway.
Reactions and thoughts welcome.
Stay tuned.
What leads to a breaking up is hard to know beforehand. There would probably be no separation then, for one could see it coming and thus act in order to try to avoid it. There are as many possible reasons as there have been breaking-ups in the whole story of Mankind.
Still, sometimes, things just don't work, or don't work anymore.
Whose fault is that ? Sometimes (and quite frequently indeed) nobody's, for being oneself is hardly criticizable at all... And being oneself is often the one reason why you end up tiring your once-significant other.
Just because one gets tired of this special person one loved for a while doesn't mean the soon-to-be-ex is supposed to enter a fit of mad anger, stopping to think, and talking much faster than one should...
Well, I hear you thinking from here... "Love is passion, and passion is uncontrolable...".
True enough. Still, people should always remain conscious of a very simple fact that eases everything : in our "occidental" societies (at least), women are now considered (at least theoretically) equal to men. AND slavery is commonly recognized as a crime (and thus abolished).
Knowing this, people should always remain conscious that your significant other doesn't belong to you. He/She is just another fully free human being, free to give you Love at a time for no reason at all and stop giving it for the same absence of reason.
And any person who wants to deserve being considered as a responsible adult should, in my opinion, understand and respect this freedom.
I know how painful it can be, but this is your pain, your friends are here to help you deal with it, you are absolutely not entitled to try to turn it back towards your recent ex.
And as far as friends and relatives are concerned, their role should not be to show you what an awful person your ex was, but to distract you from a painful topic... By changing your ideas by any means necessary.
In my opinion, couple stories are (or should be) of very little concern to anybody not concerned (that is [world poplation] minus 2) anyway.
Reactions and thoughts welcome.
Stay tuned.
2007/01/25
Welcome, sailor !
So you've been surfing the Web long enough to wreck your electronic ship on this shore ?
Well, welcome then.
First, I should probably introduce myself. So that you know if you have a chance to find the smallest interest in my writings, and thus feel like coming back for more.
I am 21, French, living next to Paris. I've been studying English for three years and spent one of them in Helsinki, Finland. Which is why I haven't finished yet.
You've noticed ? This is not who I am but what I've done...
Who I am is a trick question, for the answer depends on when you ask it.
Let's say that in general I'm a nice guy, with a quite personnal sens of humor and a tendency to blab about anything I consider interesting at the moment. Which is why this blog doesn't exactly have an editorial line...
It will be made of different things, about different topics. I'll try not to turn this blog into mylife.com, for this is more what my French blog is about - it was somehow thought as destined to my friends, and good thing if complete strangers find it interesting too.
Still, as I have some friends who don't understand French, I'll type down about important or interesting events from time to time. But not too much.
To put it frankly, for me this blog will be a way to make me practice English, for my level dropped since I came back from Finland...
I doubt that practice makes perfect. But I'm sure that lack of practice makes bad. Hence this blog.
Stay tuned.
Soon : an article about an interesting topic. Whatever "an interesting topic" may be.
P.S. As the readers will mostly be foreigners (or so do I hope), I'll be glad to explain some things about France... If anybody has questions, put them now.
P.S.2. Well, it's not like I had readers anyway -_-
Well, welcome then.
First, I should probably introduce myself. So that you know if you have a chance to find the smallest interest in my writings, and thus feel like coming back for more.
I am 21, French, living next to Paris. I've been studying English for three years and spent one of them in Helsinki, Finland. Which is why I haven't finished yet.
You've noticed ? This is not who I am but what I've done...
Who I am is a trick question, for the answer depends on when you ask it.
Let's say that in general I'm a nice guy, with a quite personnal sens of humor and a tendency to blab about anything I consider interesting at the moment. Which is why this blog doesn't exactly have an editorial line...
It will be made of different things, about different topics. I'll try not to turn this blog into mylife.com, for this is more what my French blog is about - it was somehow thought as destined to my friends, and good thing if complete strangers find it interesting too.
Still, as I have some friends who don't understand French, I'll type down about important or interesting events from time to time. But not too much.
To put it frankly, for me this blog will be a way to make me practice English, for my level dropped since I came back from Finland...
I doubt that practice makes perfect. But I'm sure that lack of practice makes bad. Hence this blog.
Stay tuned.
Soon : an article about an interesting topic. Whatever "an interesting topic" may be.
P.S. As the readers will mostly be foreigners (or so do I hope), I'll be glad to explain some things about France... If anybody has questions, put them now.
P.S.2. Well, it's not like I had readers anyway -_-
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