Bansky back in Bethlehem

Bethlehem Mural [Bansky]
Christmas Wishes...

Le Combat Continue

[Kery James]

Only on YouTube...

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger
[Daft Punk & FrEckleStudios]

Leave Britney alone!

[Chris Crocker]
You can safely say that at least she has got some dedicated fans... In your face Kevin!

Une Tragédie...

Le Ministre N. Sarkozy visitait une école primaire et il se rendit dans une des classes.Le professeur et les élèves étaient au milieu d'une discussion sur les mots et leur signification.Le professeur demanda au Ministre s'il voulait bien mener la discussion sur le mot "tragédie". Alors l'illustre meneur demanda à la classe un exemple de "tragédie".
Un petit garçon se leva et proposa : "Si mon meilleur ami, qui vit dans une ferme, était en train de jouer dans le champ et qu'un tracteur lui roule dessus et le tue, ce serait une tragédie".
"Non", dit Sarkozy, "Ce serait un accident".
Une petite fille leva la main : "Si un bus scolaire transportant 50 enfants tombait d'une falaise, et que tout le monde serait tué à l'intérieur, ça serait une tragédie".
"Je crains que non", expliqua Sarkozy. "C'est ce qu'on appellerait une grande perte".
Le silence se fit dans la salle. Aucun autre enfant ne se porta volontaire.
Sarkozy chercha dans la salle. "N'y a-t-il personne ici qui puisse me donner un exemple de tragédie?"
Finalement, au fond de la salle, un petit garçon leva la main... D'une voix calme il dit: "Si l'avion Ministériel vous transportant vous et Cécilia était frappé par un "tir de missile ami" et était complètement désintégré, ça serait une tragédie".
"Formidable!" s'exclama Sarkozy. "C'est exact. Et peux-tu nous dire pourquoi ce serait une tragédie?"
"He bien", dit le garçon, "il faut bien que ce soit une tragédie,car ce ne serait certainement pas une grande perte, et probablement pas un accident non plus.

Et Pendant Ce Temps La...

Tank in a Sand Storm [Shaun Mullen]
Je vous laisse deviner ou...

A Few Postcards...

Another lovely sunset... & Aguadulce Marina, off the cliff


Lagos, the old city...


Leaving Lagos... & Cascais waterfront beach


Camariñas & the Festa do Carme

Thanks to Mistas for the great pics!

Mutiny on the Tibby

Here goes, my breakfast lasted over a day I know, but it was sunday, hehe... I got down to Saint Tropez on a beautiful day, switching from train to bus to finally end up on the pier in front of what looked a very well equipped and looked out for Hallberg Rassy 42. I was there before everybody else so the owner invited me onboard for a little beer as we chatted waiting for the rest of the crew to get there. The preparations were quite thorough, I went up the mast, where i caught a bird's eye view of all the bay around Saint Tropez, we bubble wrapped almost all the saloon to keep it dry and from gettin the odd scratches. I felt the skipper knew what he was doing and eventhough he seemed a bit dry in some ways, I was lookin forward to goin out to sea... That's until he came back with our food: I unpacked tins and more tins, the only fresh vegetables we had were a bag of potatoes and a bag of onions.. oh and a few peppers... The rest of it was basically cans of diet cokes and corned beef. The plan was then to go out to sea for the full trip without hittin land, a full two weeks or so, I imagined what we would be on within a week... Anyways, DC, the skipper, seemed a decent bloke under the hard veener and we set off on a beautiful morning with little wind. As we left the bay we had our first encounter with what become a recuring sight throughout the whole trip: a fin whale.. What a great omen, I thought, barely out to sea and sea life was already surrounding us. I was my first fin whale in its natural habitat and even if it was a rather small sized one I was chuffed. I later learned that actually the whale, now named Desiré by the local press was an orphan calf now roaming the southern french mediterranean coast from Monaco to Marseille... So we headed south and I was starting to hope the winds would keep away so we would have to stop somewhere in the Med.. Ibiza was on the track and I kindda like the idea of spending an afternoon on one of Formenterra's naturist beaches, hehe... But that was not to be the case, clearly we were on a schedule and we were going to stick to the original plan, we left the party islands to the west and kept hitting south towards Gibraltar. The mood on the boat was a bit tense with DC constantly picking on the other crew member, Mistas, and for no particular reason at all. I thought nothing of it at first, supposing that it was DC's way on setting out the pecking order on the boat, he was boss, i was second and Mistas was well, getting all the heat. It was unfair, Mistas had more experience than I had for example, he just lacked the tickets.. Of course DC was the Million Miles Skipper, so we had no ground to stand on. I guess Mistas being the reasonable man that he is, just let it slide on his feathers. We were still gettin daily sightings of whale blows, for the first week we saw at least whale a day, bottlenose dolphins went almost unnoticed ... almost, I was on the bow once when a pod came over to "play" and one of them turned on its side, and looked at me... I could clearly see his eye starring me down a few feet away with some kind of inquisitive love, no fear, no anger, as if he knew I was enjoying this as much as he was. I know it's a bit daft to give animals feelings and characters that we only human claim to have, but I really felt close, we were linked under the sun & the bow wave... Moments like these always obliterate all the negativity in me and around me, DC and his antics could not touch me. His cooking did though, we were blessed with his creativity, one night we got cassoulet out of a tin mixed with 10min couscous, clearly food was just another energy source for our skipper, much like diesel, to be washed down with nutrasweetened soda... A week had passed and the Rock, Gibraltar, was just ahead of us, we squeezed through the straights at night in one the busiest waterways in the world and finally got into the Atlantic Ocean. That was my first real sailing trip in the Med over, most of it done under engine as the winds were either too weak or on the nose. By that time we had to stop somewhere for a refill. of diesel at least, I mentioned Lagos, since I had been there only a month ago and that it was a good stop before passing the Cabo Sao Vicente and the northern route to well, the north hehe... So Lagos it was, we got there early morning, moored up, ran for the soothing showers and the cold beers :) The conditions for the rest of the trip weren't lookin great too, the wind was northerly/ northwesterly and DC didn't want to skim up the coast in fear of traffic. Needless to say that when I mentioned that I didn't see much traffic last time around, it fell on deaf ears. We stayed there a day and a half before we packed up and hit out west, DC wanted to do some 300 miles westwards so he could cut back up directly towards England... Another plan that fell through, after another day and a half sailing in strenghtening winds and rougher seas, we decided to turn back and go to... Lagos, lol. 3 days for feck all and we were on a schedule remember! Actually it wasn't worthless, I was on the helm lookin ahead one morning when I heard a blow just over my shoulder, I looked to the side and right there, some 5 metres away was a huge fin whale, the visible part, around the fin, was as big as the boat, that's like 13 metres and without the head or tail I couldn't stop thinkin how big the beast was and how surprised it must have been coming up for air so close to me! Another of those I-Love-Life moments, memorable! We had a steady force 8 wind on that trip and maybe that's what pushed Mistas to tell DC to give a little more respect if he wanted some in return. Our second stay in Lagos turned out to be the one that bonded us, Mistas and I, we felt like a mutineering crew, our humour being our deadliest weapon! So, goodbye Lagos and up north we go, following the coast this time, the winds had died down on us again so by the time we got half way up Portugal it was time to duck in for more juice, and guess where we end up? Yes, Cascais, another port I had visited on my last trip, which was lookin more and more like is one. We left the next morning, planning another stop on the northern spanish coast before crossing Biscay.. Camariñas it was, and yes by that time I was thinking we were heading into a force 11 in the Bay, just like last time. That trip to Camariñas led to my first blown out conflict with DC, as we were approaching the little gallician village, he inadvertently mistook a light for another and I pointed it out to him: Million Miles Skipper told me to shut up, wait and see that I was wrong... Well, as we passed the light on a spit of land with froth all over it (this is called the Costa do Morte) I guess he noticed that maybe he was wrong so he went into some kind of mute snit and I was singin to my heart's content, hehe. I didn't say anything, neither did he, but things got worse from there on. We got there on the break of dawn, waited for the pump to open, filled her up and left. It was the 16th of July, the yearly patron saint's festival, with bands all over town and fishing boats covered with flags and palms. They go out to sea on a procession where they abandon the statue of Carmen in offering. But clearly, we were in a hurry, so we left like 15 minutes before the procession... Running like sheep to the slaughter, I mean we had been at sea for over two weeks now, how was an hour or two hanging around enjoying the festivities going to delay us? My mutineering friend and I now spent most of our time together chatting away, criticising the lack of savoir-vivre of our Captain. Surprisingly Biscay was flat all the way, like a pond, we barely touched the sails, engine on most of the time until we finally reached the british south coast and its gorgeous summer weather.. It had been raining for two months there and our arrival didn't change anything, my watch approaching the Isle of Wight was the last dry one and my last conflict with DC... More lights, more confusion, this time he asked me why I was always double checking what he said and that he had done navigation before... Maybe because all human beings can make mistakes? And that an extra pair of eyes is a advantage rather than a threat? I guess when you have a Million Miles under your belt, you are far from the days where the beauty of sailing is that it is a constant learning curve, that everyday brings its load of surprises and challenges.. Overblown Ego doesn't help, I have learned that we all must stay humble in the awe that the mighty Sea inspires!

Fin Whale!

Yay! Made it back safe and sound... The trip lasted just over three weeks and was a very interesting experience with a totally moronic individual. Just got up, am at home, will have breakfast, recollect my thoughts and lay them down here in a few hours...

Saint Tropez - Lagos - Cascais

Well well, didn't actually believe I was going to end up doing almost the same trip as the last one... Apart from the Mediterranean bit, as soon as we got passed Gibraltar we ended up in Lagos again (twice) and Cascais where I am now.. It's ISAF Sailing Championships here so the town is buzzing, sailors from all over the world are everywhere.. Funny atmosphere and such a change from last time.. Anyway this was just a little update, I will come back in more detail on the rest of the trip as soon as I get home, some 10 days from now I suppose. Let's hope Biscay won't bring the same surprises hehe...

Same Again? La Même?

Well, I'm only just in the door and it's time to think about packing again.. Where for? Saint Tropez and its "luvely" people to take a boat all the way back to England. When? Next week... What? A Hallberg Rassy, swedish made and around 40ft... Clearly I made a good impression!
Je viens a peine de rentrer et c'est deja l'heure de repartir... Destination Saint Trop pour ramener une suedoise de 12m jusqu'en Angleterre... Je regarde sur la carte et je vois des iles, des plages, des boites de nuit et apres ça la Costa do Morte! hehe...

Roof With A View

Dublin Bay
Rooftop view from where I live in Ireland... Vue du toit au dessus de chez moi en Irlande

Quote Du Jour, Dublin Style

«Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter»
Martin Luther King

CheckDisOut!

TELL THE TRUTH
[Mos Def, Immortal Technique & Eminem]

... La Suite

Actually, life isn't always so rosy... That same day, 5 people had lost their lives at sea and a boat we had seen leaving Camariñas the same day we did was still reported missing, with two on board... We quickly ended the rest of the journey up to Holland, all swearing never to face conditions such a those we had encountered.. The Channel Islands were a breeze and the tide pushed us up the Normandy coast is one go, soon we were in Belgium, then Ijmuiden, a port west of Amsterdam and our last stop. As we tied up the boat for the last time, I felt like a weight had been lifted over my shoulders and tiredness crept into me... We had been 12 days at sea, a few days in Amsterdam would quickly get me back used to terra firma. I don't think I'll ever forget these two weeks, especially not those hours under the storm, the beautiful emerald coloured water spraying over us at high speed as we ducked and dived to avoid white, foamy, breaking waves... mmmm sailing :)

My First Delivery

There, I finally made it back after what turned out an eventful trip!... It all started when I left home for Lisbon, heading soon afterwards towards Lagos, a fisherman's village converting into a marina just off to the west of Faro. Got there early, enjoyed a few drinks in the local marina bar, catching up on gossip as it were, pretending to be "part of the crowd"... Marina hot spots and local Yacht Clubs have always that same feel to them, a bit too salty for me at times... Next day I met up with the crew, saw the boat, realized she was actually smaller than what I had expected but still at 42ft, she was roomy enough for the three of us, Gee, Arh & me (not real names btw). We filled the fridge up, filled her up with fuel, did a few checks and tied up alongside waiting for the mornin sun to set off. We had another few drinks that night to gel in, so to speak, it looked good, the crew were chatty & amicable, that's one worry less :) We left early the next day, the sun with us accompanied by a few fishermen on row boats. It was a brisk wind and the boat, Emm from now on, was handling well. We passed Cabo de São Vicente at the southeastern tip of Portugal, the scenery was real nice, huge black cliffs with jagged edges slicing through the atlantic swell and froth. It would take us almost two days to reach on next stop, Baiona, south of the Spanish border... But as sailing isn't such a predictable means of transport, we ended two days later up just on the mouth of the Tejo River, Cascais, ½ hr from Lisbon! The wind was on our nose all the time, we were getting a beating so we welcomed the stop... I had taken advantage of this first leg to get my sea legs together, things came back naturally and the thrills were just as strong. On one night shift, I was alone on the helm when some 20/25 dolphins came around to play in the phosphorescence of Emm's wake, it was really beautiful. As the sun was rising, I could see still them glide under the hull, I had goosebumps all over... Yes this is why I love sailing. Cascais was a pleasant stop, an old fishing village turned rich, with a few palaces and bourgeois houses with azulejos all over them, I dipped into sardines and beer as we had our little aperitif on a sunny terasse. Our next leg was to reach the end of the world, Cabo Finisterre, in Gallicia. We ran into more traffic on that journey, container ships laden with i-don't-know-whats, heading south, off the portuguese coast. As we closed in on Camariñas, the coast disapeared into dense fog and the swell increased, those black serrated rocks well present in our memories... We found out later in a local café that we had just sailed up la Costa do Morte, no translations needed. We got a phone call the next morning from Head Office warning us that we had to get some speed into us, as a big bad weather system was slowly getting on our route through the Bay of Biscay, so it was eggs on the go, refuel and off again we go... The sun was out early that morning and it looked like plain sailing again. We went northwest of the Cape to hopefully get better winds to cut back towards Brittany, everything seemed fine and we started to wonder what was all the rush about. Two days passed and we were still heading northeast, we then decided to head on the other tack aiming for the channel islands... The next morning I was on the sunrise shift again, the night had been uneventful except for a few close encounters with ships, but as I was having my morning coffee and handing over the shift to Arh, the waves started to get bigger and we could now see several dreaded towering dark gray cumulonimbus clouds on the horizon... Head Office was right, some nasty shit is coming our way... By the time I was feeling tired, waves were like 5m high and the wind gusting to some 40knots, I went downstairs and decided to get some sleep while I still could. When I woke up an hour or two later, Arh and Gee were fighting with the helm and the winds were still howling strong, I got up in the cockpit and had a quick breakfast cigarette and assessed the situation. The waves were now twice the size I had left them, when Emm would dip under them, the lip of the waves was more than half way up the mast, we were kindda surfing them at at 45º angle hoping that none would break over us. With the two on the helm I was not much use above so I nipped down into the "drier" nav station on radar watch... We fought it out for 11 hours, I was never too far from my grab bag and the liferaft, I never doubted we would get out alive but when the gas alarm started to ring and the storm sail ripped, I must confess I puffed a little. Gee and I went up on the bow and got the ripped sail off, the metal wire that held it up, the halyard in technical terms, had also ripped as if made of cotton... The wind blew to a maximum of 62 Knots (that's over 100 Km/h) and the waves were between 6-10m high... The lads were tired and wet so I took over the helm for a while, the winds had died down a little but we only had the engine to rely on now, the sun dipped finally under the clouds just before sunset and lit up the whole sea again for us, I quickly spotted a lighthouse and a big part of me raised its arms in triumph, we had made it... to a lighthouse at least! We were only an hour or two away from a hot shower and that gave us a little more energy. Camaret is a small little village close to Brest, it looked like paradise to us, a boat tied down for the night, a hot shower to rinse off all the salt crusts followed by a lovely meal served by delightful waitresses... Yes it is why I love sailing! We had had a near to death experience without most of the pain, the kindda one that gives you time to think about it, and while I was over the chart I never feared... I was pissed off for allowing myself to be in this mess but I knew that it was only going to be a lesson to me and nothing else. It was all about staying positive I figured out... So we got to Camaret, we stayed there a a full day just iddling about, dryin out our gear and people watching over un café... Life IS sweet

Two weeks at Sea

Just got a job offer to deliver a sailboat from Lagos, Portugal to Amsterdam... Seeing that things here in Paris are kindda quiet I decided to accept and head off tomorrow to Lisbon, check the city out before heading down south to Lagos and see what kind of bathtub I'm gonna be sailing in. Actually it's a Moody 47 so it should be fine, let's hope the crew is up to scratch! Haven't sailed in a good while so it'll be good to get back into the swing of things, can't wait to be in the Channel again and go containership dodging hehe... Trying to get in contact with mates in Amsterdam, see if I can crash there a few days to recuperate from the stress :) Anyway, just this little note, for all those of you who landed on this blog, my friends, past present and future (a big shout out to Turku) I'll be back in about two weeks, until then safe winds!

Quote du Jour

«... your brain is more complex than the Universe... and it lies just behind your nose»
La Science des Reves by M.Gondry

Cucurrucucu Paloma! [BBC link]

Nicolas & Vincent sont dans un bateau...Selon la BBC et Monsieur Raffarin, apres 5 difficiles années au gouvernement, Monsieur Sarkozy devait à sa famille trois jours d'exceptionelle joie avant 5 ans de service exclusif au peuple français... Et vlan! A 200.000 euros la semaine de location, jme demande quand et comment Nicolas repaiera Mr. Bolloré...

No Comment

Manifestation du Collectif IDF des Indigènes de la République

Il veut frapper vite et fort... Il faut réagir vite et fort!

Sarkozy au Pouvoir c'est:

Plus de discriminations raciales ! Plus de mépris ! Plus de misère et de répression ! Nous ne pourrons arrêter l'offensive qui s'annonce que par nos mobilisations. Nous n'obtiendrons la satisfaction de nos revendications que par la lutte. Nous ne pourrons organiser de mobilisations de grande ampleur que dans l'unité et l'autonomie en construisant un mouvement politique antiraciste et anticolonialiste.
Cette détermination, nous devons dès aujourd'hui en faire la preuve en étant nombreuses et nombreux à la manifestation des indigènes de la république le 8 mai prochain.
RESISTER, C'EST NOUS ORGANISER NOUS-MEMES !

Le 8 MAI Départ
BARBES (Paris) 15H

"Pourquoi Je Partirai" de Rodin Kaufmann

Salut à tous.
Nous sommes le 7 avril. Il est 1 heure du matin. Je viens de rentrer chez moi. Nicolas Sarkozy a été élu hier, et j'ai éteint ma télé pour 5 ans. Pour me changer les idées je suis allé à la Plaine boire un coup avec des collègues. Là on a vu un rassemblement de la LCR pour protester contre l'élection de Sarkozy. Nous avons fait un trou de la Plaine et puis nous sommes descendus au vieux port en passant par la rue d'Aubagne, puis on a tourné à gauche pour longer la canebière en coupant St Féréol. Le cortège s'est étoffé au fil des rues, des gens descendaient de chez eux pour nous rejoindre. Une fois arrivés au port, nous étions au moins 2000, tout le quai des belges était fermé par des CRS, ce qui est prévisible, vu que la BAC en civil était dans le cortège depuis le début. Nous avons stagné un petit moment sur le port, mais nous voulions aller jusqu'à la mairie pour une prise de parole puis un dispersement du cortège. Ce qui était également prévisible est que les CRS ont chargé sur la foule, à coup de flashball et de gaz lacrimo. Premier mouvement de panique. Mais la grande majorité des gens de la manif sont revenus. Pas à la charge. Juste revenus, face au barrage de CRS. Là il y a eu quelques minutes de discussion il me semble. On s'est retrouvé encerclé par la police. D'un coup ils ont de nouveau tiré des gaz et à une vingtaine de policiers en civils sont sortis des rangs de la manif avec des matraques et ont commencé à frapper au hasard, les CRS ont chargé avec les camions, ils ont tiré des gaz jusqu'à l'autre côté du port, vers le cours Estienne d'Orves, et sur le bas de la Canebière. Voilà ce que j'ai vu ce soir. Des citoyens qui manifestent pacifiquement, hommes, femmes et enfants,spontanément, et qui se font tirer dessus et frapper. Pourquoi? Parcequ'on conteste l'élection de ce soir. Alors certes, me direz vous, ce monsieur a été élu démocratiquement. Et cette manifestation pourrait être taxée d'anti-démocratique. Je pense qu'il ne faut plus considérer que la démocratie est un principe infaillible.
N'oublions pas, et sans vouloir tomber dans la comparaison facile, que Adolph Hitler a été élu démocratiquement, tout comme Hosni Moubarak en Égypte, et Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali en Tunisie, j'en passe. Quand un personne accède démocratiquement à une fonction qui lui permet de mettre en danger les fondements mêmes d'une société, les citoyens qui en font partie, leurs libertés, et que cette personne accède au pouvoir en énonçant clairement qu'une des premières mesures qu'elle compte prende et d'augmenter le pouvoir présidentiel, faut il être né hier pour ne pas comprendre que cette personne dit: Je vais tout faire pour obtenir les pleins pouvoirs. N'oublions pas chers citoyens que la France est le pays d'Europe où le président a DÉJÀ le plus de pouvoir. Nous venons chers amis, de faire cadeau à Nicolas Sarkozy de l'immunité ABSOLUE. Voilà pourquoi ce soir, j'étais dans la rue. Je crois en la démocratie. Je ne suis pas un putchiste. J'ai grandi au Maroc, en Égypte et au Liban. Je sais ce que c'est qu'un pays sans libertés. Quand j'avais 14 ans, j'ai été arrêté au Liban pour avoir écrit sur un mur "Syrians out of Lebanon". J'ai été gardé 4 jours en garde à vue. Nous étions trois, j'étais le seul français. On nous a tabassé, coup de pieds dans le ventre, dans la tête, coups de matraque dans le cou, insultes, menaces physiques et morales, menace d'électrocution. C'est l'avocat de l'ambassade de France qui nous a sorti de là. Nos parents n'étaient pas au courant. Je sais ce que c'est qu'un pays démocratique, et un pays totalitaire. Je n'ai jamais fermé ma bouche devant la menace totalitaire. Je suis venu en France pour y trouver le calme, la confiance en l'Etat et ses institutions. Et voilà que le peuple de France met à sa tête quelqu'un qui cherche à détruire tout ce que je suis. Je suis né de parents d'origines différentes. Quand je suis né mon père ne parlait pas encore français et ma mère ne parlait pas encore allemand. J'avais à la maison 3 langues: le français, l'allemand et l'anglais. Puis je suis allé à la garderie marocainne, où j'ai appris le marocain. Souvenez vous de cette loi que mr Sarkozy a l'intenton de faire passer sur la détection de la délinquance précoce, selon ses théories sur la génétique et le déterminisme, un enfant qui parlerait plusieurs langues à la maison serait un délinquant potentiel, les mères devront être tenues de parler EXCLUSIVEMENT en français à leurs enfants. Que devrai je dire? J'ai manqué 20 ans de redressement et de traitements médicamenteux ainsi que le camp de redressement. Je suis dons déjà à ses yeux un délinquant potentiel. Sachant qu'en plus je milite activement pour la reconnaissance de la langue occitane et son usage. J'ai l'intention d'apprendre l'occitan à mes enfants, de leurapprendre plusieurs langues dès leur plue tendre enfance, mr Sarkozy, je vais apprendre à mes enfants qu'une idée peut être exprimée de plusieurs manières différentes, et que l'on peut concevoir le monde de plein de manières, le plurilinguisme dès l'enfance apprend la tolérance et l'ouverture d'esprit et mr Sarkozy je vous emmerde.
Premier point:
Mr Sarkozy, je le cite, dit cela:
"Par exemple dans les universités, chacun choisira sa filière, mais l'Etat n'est pas obligé de financer les filières qui conduisent au chômage. L'Etat financera davantage de places dans les filières qui proposent des emplois, que dans des filières où on a 5000 étudiants pour 250 places.Vous avez le droit de faire littérature ancienne, mais le contribuable n'a pas forcément à payer vos études de littérature ancienne si au bout il y a 1000 étudiants pour deux places. Les universités auront davantage d'argent pour créer des filières dans l'informatique, dans les mathématiques, dans les sciences économiques. Le plaisir de la connaissance est formidable mais l'Etat doit se préoccuper d'abord de la réussite professionnelle des jeunes."
Deuxième point donc:
Ayant moi même suivi une formation littéraire puis artistique, avant de devenir professionnel dans ce milieu, je me sens personnellement visé par ces propos. Je trouve ça absolument scandaleux, mais en y réfléchissant, ça reste dans la logique du personnage. Pourquoi les français auraient ils besoin de "culture"? ils ont déjà la star académy, Johnny Haliday, Muriel Robin, Faudel, Enrico Macias..et toute la clique de pantins télévisuels sarkozystes. Cet homme est arrivé par la télé, ça fait 5ans qu'il est quotidiennement dans la lucarne chez les gens. La télé étant devenu ces dernières décénies "l'opium du peuple", mr Sarkozy n'a vraiment pas besoin qu'on enseigne des matières telles que la philosophie par exemple, ce qu'il veut c'estun français moyen bien docile et crédule, aculturé, ignorant.
Troisième point:
En voilà des ignorants. Qui ne cillent pas quand cette homme se permet de parler de génétique, d'énoncer ses théories d'un autre âge. Quand cet homme se permet de dire "la France n'a pas de sang sur les mains, la France n'a pas de génocide à se reprocher, la France n'a pas de leçon à recevoir de ces gens là" (en parlant de l'Allemagne). Non mes chers amis, personne en France n'a collaboré durant la deuxième guerre mondiale, non mes amis, la France n'a rien fait en Algérie ou en Indochine, non personne n'a massacré les cathares, les vaudois, les kanaks, et pas plus tard qu'hier. Qui a fait assassiner Jean Marie Tjibaou? Qui a provoqué un coup d'état au Commores? L'Allemagne, monsieur Sarkozy, s'est remise en question, a fait son cas de conscience, ce que n'a jamais fait la France. JAMAIS. Et en tant que citoyen allemand autant que français, je vous emmerde, je n'oublierai pas MOI que vous êtes un menteur et que vous salissez la mémoire de millions de victimes.
Quatrième point:
Je suis chanteur, je chante en occitan. D'ici un an tout au plus, le statut qui me permet de vivre de ma musique sera certainement supprimé, puisque, vous le savez, nous les intermittents nous sommes des privilégiés (ce que ne sont pas les Doc Gynéco, Florent Pagny et j'en passe bien netendu). Outre ce petit coup de pouce, les budgets de la culture "et associés" vont certainement prendre un coup puisque Monsieur le président compte faire des audits sur tous les ministères et tout simplement supprimer les bureaux inutiles où qui ne rapportent pas d'argent. Donc: fini les DRAC, fini les salles subventionnées qui nous font vivre depuis maintenant 6 ans, non sans mal avouons le depuis les dernières années, fini les centre régionaux de musique traditionnelle, de sauvegarde du patrimoine, fini les associtation occitanes qui se battent pour faire vivre cette langue au quotidien, fini tout ça. FINI mon monde. Je dis mon parceque c'est un mail que j'écris en tant que personne.Pour vous dire pourquoi moi, Rodin Kaufmann, je compte quiter la France d'ici un an tout au plus. Je ne veux plus être ici en juin 2008. Je pourrai vous écrire des pages et des pages encore sur pourquoi je suis et resterai à vie et de manière intrinsèque un opposant à Sarkozy et à toute forme d'idée émanant de son cerveau de cinquantenaire n'ayant aucune autre consistance que cette élection, ce "fils d'immigré" comme il se plait à le rappeler, dont ne l'oublions pas, les parents ont fui la Hongrie par peur des communistes, parcequ'ils avaient collaboré avec les nazis. Je vous laisse imangier l'éducation qu'a reçu ce jeunes homme. Un pur héritage de la résistance et de la révolution n'est ce pas? la quintéscence de la liberté, de la démocratie..
Mes chers amis, je vous le dis aujourd'hui, et jusqu'à ce que ce gouvernement soit renversé et le bien de tous à nouveau garanti par la démocratie, je suis en guerre. Pour terminer, la fin d'un morceau qui s'appelle LA LIBERTAT:

Tu qu'as una vòtz de cleron
vuei sòna sòna a plen parmons
L'ORA ES VENGUDA

*toi qui as une voix de clairon
maintenant sonne à plein poumon
l'heure est venue.

E VIVA!

Rodin Kaufmann
www.myspace.com/rodaucor

Le Dimanche

Jviens de me lever, petit bedo et kawa... Ca va etre la fête aujourd'hui, la France aura un nouveau président avant ce soir! Tout le monde parmi mes amis panique un peu a l'idée de revoir le nain au pouvoir pendant au moins encore 5ans, mais bon comme je disais plus bas et en anglais, je ne suis pas plus concerné que ca.... Je vis ici mais je n'ai pas le droit de voter...

Well well, First day on the Job!

It's been like ages since my friends have asked me to put up a blog and share my worldwide experiences. So I guess here it is... I'm not traveling now, just chilling out in Paris, surrounded by murmurs of the upcoming elections. Good thing I'm not involved at all, my Sunday is gonna be spent in the countryside watching meat sizzle on a grill! Until then.. Keep posted!