I just read that the video of the sick sick man killing another human being is still online and will remain there. I also read that the video received 600 likes on Facebook before being taken down (kuddos, FB!)
Oh, human beings are sick!
Now the video is on a gore extremes website. The owner will not take it down, his answer is: this will not change the fact that it happened. Unbelievable! This is so crazy! It is like saying that speed limit will not change the number of people who died in car crashes due to speed, or that not advertising cigarettes consumption will not help those who have already died from cancer.
But what about the victim’s family? Don’t they have rights? What about the victim? Does he not have a right to be protected? This is a sick video made by a sick person and watched by sick people.
God help us!
The Hunger Games is one of the best books I have read in a very long time. Of course. I loved Twilight, but Mrs. Collins style of writing is (for me!) amazing. I love the surprises and there are a lot in the trilogy.
Finnick is a tortured character and I sincerely hope this is the one they have in mind for Rob. He has the past-telling, soul-wrenching eyes Finnick needs!
When I read the book, I possibly did visualize someone like him playing the role. He is annoying to start of with, with his flirting-self, but he soon shows a different side of his: clever, observant, passionate and so, so kind.
Finnick has a great role as a character. Never fails in his feelings for loved-ones, his loyalty to the cause. He saves Peeta (Yey!) more than once, and has to sacrifice Mags, dies inside for Annie’s suffering, and finally dies a heroic death to save everyone from some kind of mutant monsters.
Oh, I so see R-Patz in Finnick’s netted overall!
My son asked many questions:
– “So what, did he just get up and walk out of the hospital?”
– “Er… I have no idea, but I don’t think so.”
– “What did his children say when they saw him wake up? Did they say hello? Did he know what had happened?”
Talk about regretting the timing to share with your kid! I probably should have conducted a thorough research before launching this rocket.
– “Er… I don’t know…”
– “How long had he been in the coma? How does it happen? Are you then suddenly asleep, or is it like dying but you don’t find the light?”
Oh, my! Oh, my! All I wanted was to share a lovely piece of news that I somehow remembered while drinking my coffee, only God knows why. I thought it was a lovely story for my son and something to help him know that, no matter what, hope is a wonderful power by our side.
And now, here we were, discussing reasons to fall in a coma, what the doctors can do or say, how they feed the patient during that time, what happens when you wake up, yada yada… a whole different story!
When breakfast was over, my son went to get ready for school, and I turned on the radio while washing the dishes. When the news came on, I mentally switched off to concentrating on my Monday morning thoughts, whatever these are. Suddenly he ran out of the bathroom.
-“Well, he is dead now!”
I looked at him in surprise. What was he talking about? And who died?
– “You said he was called Gibb, right? Well, the lady on the radio just said he died… Robin, I think.”
He went back to the bathroom in a flash, and I stood there, wondering what to do in such a situation. My son came back with toothpaste foam around his lips and mumbled:
– “Finally very sad, don’t you think? You thought he had made it, his family too… they must be devastated.” He left again and I heard him rinse his mouth in the bathroom.
I turned back to my washing, thought up a few arguments to talk to my son about hope and disease and life as a whole. I heard the newsman talk about the Bee Gees, and the great songs they wrote. I wondered why I had to bring that topic up just this morning. Life’s a mystery, at times.
I will not go on about what the Gibb brothers have brought to the world of music, there are plenty of testimonies on the Internet, and they are all insightful, but I wanted to say “So long, Mr. Gibb, you were a great musician, may the angels sing for you.”
Mr. Hollande is the new Tonton
Oh. it reminds me of my high school years. In 1981, in the evening of May 10th, I was on a train going from Bordeaux to Pau, in the south of France, back to boarding-school after spending a week-end at home. One of my school mate was running up and down the train looking for sympathizing faces.
– “He has been elected!”
We spent the previous weeks arguing over the possibility that François Mitterrand would become the French president.
Le voisin de Latche
Mitterrand, with his interesting and colorful political history, his Vichy past, and other “secrets” like his friendship with a second world war criminal… All this made him, somehow, a romantic reminiscence of the French aristocracy.
Yes, Mitterrand was left-wing, a sort of liberal socialist and yes, he restored the glory of the Socialist party among the left, but he represented what France is all about in my opinion: a large country, an ocean front, an economic power, a linguistic charm, a Latin descent, good wine, strong opinions and great principles. No matter what, no matter what the public opinion says, no matter what the other countries want.
It might be that many of this world’s inhabitants do not understand what it means to be a French citizen, but to us, in our high school years, Mitterrand represented exactly that.
He had strong opinions, was trying to remain a humanist despite all the political turmoil (and be assured, it is impossible to hold high one’s principles while being sucked into the vacuum of power). He got swallowed by history at times, and tried, against all odds, to swim with his personal opinions and loyalties on his head.
Mitterrand, after his election, had to “suffer” working twice with teams of the opposite camp. Would Mr. Sarkozy have managed this tour de force? I doubt it! It took someone like Mitterrand to look at the bigger picture.
The Prince, not the king
Well, let’s not forget that in France, an elected president mostly collects only half the vote bulletins. So, it means that out of roughly 34 million of voters, only around 17 millions and one vote are marching behind the new “prince.” It should not matter if the leader is what he claims to be in the first place: totally bought to France’s interests. Right?
So, good luck Mr. Hollande! You might not have the family name that holds credit for a nation’s great man as was General de Gaulle’s name, but you have been blessed with the first name of our Kermitterrand deity: François, first name of a Frank… you represent the hope that from now on, France’s image and soul will be restored, on the national territory and worldwide… and, no pressure but Florentin will be watching.
I find this unnerving! I subscribed an insurance, to protect my interests. After a couple of months, I needed to call onto them to help me out for a problem that just arose (so way within my contract!). I had a problem with my health insurance cancelled in December 2010. Now, nearly 18 months later, they want to prosecute me because my new insurance did not send a confirmation that I changed over to them.
– “We can’t help you because the problem originated in December 2010, long before you signed up with us!”
Well, if one takes this position, yes, the problem originated in 2010, but I had no issue with them until now. Come to think of it, I was born in 1963, so technically, the problem originated way before 2010… what do you think?
I find these technicalities so annoying!
This is my rant for today, I let you go back to your lovely Sunday. Thank you for listening, now, just forget about it, I just needed to let it out.
I used to think it was because I pretend I am in high school again and plan my story / article on paper before I start hitting the words on the screen. I used to think it was because of the computer and I should go back to pen and paper, like JK Rowling.
But if I am honest, I must admit that this used to happen also when I was using pen and paper. It used to happen to me also when I drew my characters, and set the plot, and the separate events, and the villain and the helper. I remember a love story I started to write that ended up in a violent mafia adventure.
So, what do you do when the words take their own story in their… do they have “hands”? … curves?
I am in favor to let the words take me wherever they please, but I feel like Jack Sparrow with his broken compass, I know where I sail from, but the shore where I’ll disembark could be the result of a twist of fate.