Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Alice fuyait son bonheur - 34

Alice: I did this big mistake, one zero but an important one!
Pierre: Do you mean Mr. Dauville offers only 500 francs?
Alice: The mistake is the other way round. It is 50,000 francs.
Pierre: Tell me I am not dreaming... 50,000! It's more than my granny will ever need!

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Nicolas Le Pen

Le Wall Street Jounal en ligne vient de titrer sur le petit Nicolas: "Nicolas Le Pen - Même en France, les propos xénophobiques du président français sont considérés cyniques".

Je continue par une  traduction d'un extrait de l'article:
"[Fermer les frontières] est un plan hideux, non seulement en rapport du registre des sentiments sur lequel il joue, mais il est également  un cas d'école de méconnaissance économique. Une des menaces principales contre l'état providence à la française est le vieillissement de sa population (qui de plus vit de plus en plus longtemps) et le taux de natalité qui, bien que le plus élevé en Europe, reste en-dessous du  taux de remplacement naturel. A moins de changements culturels drastiques, seule l'immigration peut fournir les travailleurs nécessaires pour payer les retraités et personnes dépendantes.

La vraie tâche importante du gouvernement français est de faire en sorte que ces immigrants soient intégrés correctement, et de créer des conditions économiques dans lesquelles ils peuvent prospérer en ligne avec le reste de la France. M. Sarkozy sans aucun doute comprend cela. Mais comprend-t-il aussi que c'est un cynisme aussi transparent que celui-ci qui l'a mis en difficulté politique?"

Article du Wall Street Journal (en anglais)

Mon image du jour pour terminer....

Et toujours un peu de musique grecque sur fond de campagne ici

5/5 The parable of the desert

The Oniris has been growing for 3 years now, and for 3 years I had lucid dreams about the desert. The dreams came and went unexpectedly, leaving a faint feeling of regret: the regret to not be able to know these people and times better, to help them in their struggles. Their hearts and mine were no different, we belonged.

The door bell rang. My birthday was coming up, so I thought I would invite some neighbours and colleagues for a party. My partner went to the door: she welcome in my old friend, the one who had brought me this marvellous plant, he was early, as usual. He introduced us two years ago, they had worked on the same site, for the institute. 

The veranda was wide open, there were random chairs scattered around the rugged coffee table. A spring rain had left the air smelling fresh and anew, the sun was daringly warm and brilliant, a perfect moment. We sat down, looking out at the garden. She brought back my friend’s favourite drink, almond milk mixed with honey and orange flower water. 

I told him my latest dream, he nodded his head, listening to the story. “It is so frustrating... never able to be there for real! I could feel everything they felt, from despair to hope, pain and joy, everything!”, I said, “In the morning, this”, I showed the house, “seems to be the shadow of another existence, not that I don’t want to be here of course”, I added looking at my partner; she smiled back, she has heard my stories before. “I miss meeting them, I wish I was there to give them a hand; If only I could travel back in time!”, I said; “That, you can’t”, my friend replied, “these people are long dead if they existed at all, although I retold some of your dreams to an archaeologist friend of mine, who was able to check their veracity. Some were nomads, others were migrants, and eventually a few became our ancestors, we could venture that guess. They did disagree with each other a lot though, back then, dissent and violence were rife, human rights unknown. And see!”, his arms opened as to embrace the whole landscape, “this is them...”. Beyond our lush garden, a few young trees lined the street - it was a new suburb -, silent electric cars zipped through, the community park spread further down in the rainbow of its water works, further still, the mountains shone ochre and red under the sun light, with patches of green where new resources were deployed, the large white limestone vein on the cliff side looking like the bone of a giant. “That landscape, it could be anywhere on Earth” I thought. “The best time is always here and now”, said my friend as if he happened to read my thoughts, “my little plants cannot take you then, nor could you travel there”, he pointed his finger at the sky, “you, me, all of us, are both the link and the linked with all this, so whatever you do, however small, will affect everyone.”; I understood his point quite well.  He then added: “For example, just telling your dreams already started a movement.”

Before I could answer, the door bell rang again. “I am going to help with the drinks”, I said with a smile, “for now”. I stood up and left them sitting in the veranda, my partner caressing her pregnant belly.