Courage

Bear with me, this post promises to be kind of long-ish.

So. Courage.

A single word, to pay homage to the fantastic people who live, breathe, laugh, weep, despair, struggle and fight against the doom that the powers-that-be would impose on them. A word, to honor Greece, this beautiful country I'm proud to call my second home.

The place where my soul can rest.

Courage, a word that qualifies both the people, and those they elected to lead them, in these dark times, when the thin veil of propriety and decency, when the pretense of respect and democracy is dropped. When the masks abruptly, finally fall to the ground and settle in the dust of a dying dream.

In silence.

The silence of media elite all over Europe, all over France, always so prompt to call itself the land of freedom, of human rights. France, which switched from voice of the people to the lackey of Germany, of a power cold as ice, ruthless and without the tiniest of qualms in the defense of very special interests that have nothing even remotely in common with the majority of the European peoples' interests or, for that matter, of the German population itself.

While we all watched, either too focused on being good little consumers or too drunk on crass propaganda, a democratic country, a democratically elected government was shoved into a corner and forced to humiliate itself, to accept unimaginably cruel terms that won't do a thing to help its situation but will only push it further down the abyss--while we all watched, Europe died before our eyes.

Or, at least, the idea, the dream of a Europe of the peoples, of a united Europe where prosperity is shared and diversity is cherished. A Europe where we all learn from the other, and where our differences enrich us all.

Instead, what we're witnessing is the rise of a power that has nothing but contempt for us all, even though some foolishly believe their situation to be different. We are seeing economic war being waged, harsh and brutal, harmful and as chaotic, as terrible as a war waged with tanks and planes and bombs and guns and soldiers. People suffer. People are terrified. People despair. People die. People take their lives to escape the complete absence of hope, the torment that their lives have become, while a single ideology is hammered down on everyone who would dare think differently--and lead their lives differently, in an enlightened society.

The hospitals find themselves lacking in medicines, in equipments, in doctors to treat everyone--the poorest, the most fragile find they can no longer afford medical treatment.

And yet, backed to the wall after 3 years of an implacable war, the people of Greece chose Syriza, and put Alexis Tsipras in power in January, 2015. As Yanis Varoufakis said, they chose “to stop going gently into the night and to rage against the dying of the light”.

Then, Alexis Tsipras, together with his government and the Syriza MPs in the Vouli, set out to wage this war we should have fought alongside them. While all our governments, despite empty, falsely compassionate words, abandoned them and watched while Germany and its minions in the East and in the North proceeded to destroy Greece, piece by piece.

All through a negotiation that was no negotiation at all, for there never was any true intention to reach an agreement with Greece, be it with Yanis Varoufakis, Alexis Tspiras--or with Euclid Tsakalotos, who paid a heavy price for stubbornly sticking to his conviction that Europe would be a place of principles, respect and honesty.

Month after month, the situation grew more desperate, the will of the "creditors" to crush the Syriza government--any hope born from the Left--became clear for all to see. The Greek people watched, powerless, the hardening stance of the European "partners", heard talk of Grexit, heard of Germany preparing to expel them from a union whose very core, whose cradle they were.

Some Gemran media went so far so sink below the most basic levels of decency to revel in pure racism, proclaiming that the Greeks of the present time weren't of the same blood of the Greeks of old, the blood diluted--polluted?--by centuries of invasions and migrations, and thus those same "Greeks of now" had nothing to do with those who were the cradle of Europe and democracy. Die Welt showed its true colors, reverting back to the darkest of days in German history.

And yet no pundit saw fit to say a thing about it. No great op/ed writer for the French dailies Le Monde or Liberation so much as took out their pen to even frown at this apalling bit of naked racism.

All the while, the noose tightened, strangling Greece more surely with each day of resistance, with every moment of denial and refusal of what amounted and still amounts to nonsense and utter failure in economic terms, in the view of all the prominent economic figures in the world.

And when its back was to the wall, the Syriza government did what all democratic government should: it went back to the people who had elected it, and asked for a mandate. Mediatic mayhem ensued, the pundits going mad with rage at this "folly"--how dared they ask the people? How dared they refuse to bend the knee before the powers-that-be?

After a week of the harshest, strongest propaganda and fearmongering mediatic campaign in Greece and all over Europe, the Greek people once again rose. Once again, they refused to stop going gently into the night and to rage against the dying of the light. Sunday, July 5th, 2015, was a day

I will remember all my life. I was there. I was here, in Greece. Cheering. Hoping.

And Yanis Varoufakis stepped down from his position of Finance Minister. Then he went silent for a week, waiting like we all did.

Then came the most shameful moment in Europe's history, the moment Europe began to die.

They put a gun--not to Alexis Tsipras' head--to the head of every single person of Greece.

And Alexis Tsipras yielded. For his people.

Die, or die.

I have read much in the last days. I have read the very enlightening pieces of Yanis Varoufakis, explaining how events unfolded, and what led him to resign.

Having sat in the negotiator seat myself, albeit in a much smaller context, I could only understand--rage--wish I could be there with them all when it happened. I could only understand the moment when you have to say "enough". When you have to say "stop"--the moment when you must say "I will not cross that line".

The moment when you are so exhausted, so empty, so full of despair, that you start to get up, and to tell them all to go to hell, and you prepare to break all discussion--this moment when you find yourself beyond even thinking.

And I also understand the moment when you sit down again, when you let yourself be conviced to come back to the "negotiation table". Because you are not alone. Because the lives of so many others hang in the balance, not just your own, or those of your group--and you believe, laybe naively, that if you stay, even though you'll betray yourself, at least you'll be able to alleviate the pain, maybe do something good, bring a bit of justice, make those who have the means bear the burden.

And my heart goes out to them both: to Yanis Varoufakis who chose to go, because he had to draw a line and remain true to himself, to Alexis Tsipras, who endured pain and humiliation and despair and stayed, for the people who elected him to represent and defend them.

To this day, I cannot say what I would have done in their stead. I do not know what the correct response would have been. I do not think there was a correct response--or, rather, I think that the correct response was both, and that each did well, did what he had to do, acting according to who he is.

And now, Alexis Tsipras is walking through a living hell, and Yanis Varoufakis watches from his bench of the vouli, and he has regained his freedom, as well as his voice. And I hope, against all hopes, that their paths will cross again. That they will meet again, and that there is justice in this world of ours. I hope that they will be reunited to do the work they both want to do: help their people, their country, give it back the pride and dignity, it deserved, give it back justice and its true place in our Europe.

Greece's days and weeks ahead are charcoal grey. And yet, I know that the Greek people will keep their courage. I know that they will rise if snap elections are called. I know that they will once more say "NO". "OXI".

The powers-that-be will call them mad and insane and immature.

Well, let them.

"OXI" is simply another word for "COURAGE".

As is said in one of the greatest movies around: "Never give up, never surrender!"

PS: must-read pieces by Yanis Varoufakis:

• Why I voted NO
• The Euro-Summit ‘Agreement’ on Greece – annotated by Yanis Varoufakis
• On the Euro-Summit ‘Agreement’ with Greece, my resignation and what it all means for Greece and Europe – in conversation with Phillip Adams

Greece : Homage to a brave people, and one who has become a symbol : Yanis Varoufakis

So, there we are: Oxi.

Let me repeat this, louder.

OXI !

Yesterday, the Greek people rose against fear. Against lies. Against thinly veiled and also bare threats from shameless bullies—from powers-that-be who have long since stopped representing the ordinary citizens of Europe, who have long since shed their guise of people's representatives to wear the dark mantle of the lackeys of special interests, which would dictate the way we live our lives from the comfortable shelter of their velvet shadows.

Yesteray, the Greek people sent their lying media and their crass fearmongering packing—all these TV, radio stations, all these newspapers owed by the oligarchs, the very same people who have stashed their money abroad, have avoided paying taxes, and contributing to the Greek society.

Those very same oligarchs—yes, those whom the European powers-that-be claimed Greece had to bring to heel through a deep financial system reform—well, do you know what they campaigned for ?

You'd have thought they'd campaign for « no », since any agreement with the creditors would have brought about reforms which would have hurt them—according to the propaganda of the creditors and all the falsely naive media of Northern Europe. So, can you guess what the oligarchs-owed Greek media campaigned for?

Well, the oligarchs threw all their condiserable power and money toward the « nai », the « yes » vote, which would have sent the Greek government back to Brussels in shame, and would most likely have brought it down. Then, a government of technocrats, unelected, illegitimate, would have taken the reins of the country, to enact to the letter and the dotted « i » the demands of the creditors.

As if Greece were some colony of the 19^th century, and Northern Europe its overlord.

To reach this goal, the Greek media spared no lie, no crass tactics. They announced chaos. They announced that people's deposits would be plundered by the government. They announced that hunger riots were just around the corners. They willed for the most abject fear to take hold of the Greek people.

And yet, the Greek people said, NO. OXI.

This proud, resounding OXI sent tremors through Europe. It gave Greece its dignity back. Its pride, stolen and trampled underfoot during five years while New Democratia and PASOK were in power, their heads bowed, at the back and call of the powers-that-be, no matter how wrong, how ugley the plundering of their own people they were ordered to carry out.

This fantastic OXI, it's the beginning of what will most likely be a long, protracted and hard battle. It's also a bright light of hope, and not only for Greece.

This OXI awakens hope from the ashes of austerity, for all the peoples of Europe. It saves democracy, which was standing on the edge of the abyss, about to fall under the relentless blows of an establishment which hides behind the facade of undemocratic European Institutions.

They shamelessly told the Greeks what they should vote. They threatened Greece with a brutal ousting from the eurozone and Europe itself if its people didn't bow down and vote to accept an endless austerity which would have bled the country dry, and turned it into a failed state. So sure of their victory and their power, so arrogant they were, that they went so far as to tell the truth : they wanted regime change in Greece, they wanted Syriza to fall and forever be banned from power, humiliated. They wanted an unlelected government to rise, led by technocrats—pliable, obedient. Yes, they went so far as to say it out loud : Jean-Claude Juncker, Martin Schultz, Sigmar Gabriel, Jeroen Dijssenbloem, and all that clique.

And they were denied.

In the cradle of democracy, people rose above fear, looked them right in the eye, and said no.

Ftani !

The Greek government spared no effort to reach towaard its citizens, to denounce the lies and set the truth back in the center of the equation. One man in particular made his voice heard. One man stood, and repeated the truth he's been telling the European elite time and again since January 25^th.

Yanis Varoufakis.

The brazen, firebrand ex-Finance Minister of Greece is loathed by his so-called colleagues. He's hated by the European powers-that-be. Because he knows what he's talking about. Because he can pierce through the lies, and expose them for what they are. Because the truth he tells is crystal clear, unburied under multiple layers of diplomatic or technical jargon. Because his voice rings true and echoes far, because there is no pretense, no attempt at dissembling, because he has never denied himself, and because he has made no compromises appear before the powers-that-be under a guise that would please them—it would have been the first act of submission—the Greek people trust and love him. Because of all that, the European establishment detests the mere sight of him.

Because, in five months, he has been everywhere at once, relentlessly defending his country and appearing in the media, talking to his people, explaining, giving them the keys to understand what was going on—because he gave so much of himself, Yanis Varoufakis empowered the Greek people to make their own, enlightened choice when the time came.

So, I was extatic while watching the last evening unfold, when « no » piled upon « no », in all the regions of Greece, and a proud people reclaimed its destiny.

And tears filled my eyes when I read Yanis Varoufakis' tweet this morning, announcing "Minister no more".

His resignation is a brave, noble thing to do, and it does take away one of the most obvious excuses the creditors would have used to justify the impossibility of finding an agreement. I can read moves, I know the intricacies of a harsh negotiation quite well. So I understand. Truly, I do.

They are not many, the people in power who could make such a move, who could reliquish power at the height of their power, just as they reaped what is an immense victory.

I salute you, Yanis Varoufakis. Your bright fire has lit the path of dignity for your people—the way of self-respect and free choice, of democracy, and indeed freedom itself.

Here I type this blog post from a small hill overlooking the pure, deep blue waters of the Kalamata gulf, and the Taygetos mountain range beyond, half hidden in the Summer mists.

Yanis Varoufakis, may you remain close to your people, close to Greece, and keep on advising the Greek government against all the hardships, all the traps and all the low blows which will now come.

May you keep on lighting the way for all of us.

The Greek people need you. They will keep on needing you.

We need you, all of us in Europe.

Thank you, Yani.

Thank you.

Out of the thick mists darkening our lives, a glimmer of hope ?

There should be no question mark in this post's title, no. There should be an exclamation mark, an expression of joy instead of doubt, a hope nobody really expected anymore, but such are our doused European spirits, nowadays.

2014 saw many bad things happen. Wars, terrorism, evil incarnate as the cowards hiding behind the ISI label used false religious pretence to rape women and little girls, children, and to slaughter countless innocent people. Planes crashed, boats took fire and more people died. A terrible disease reared up its head where it was not expected, in a quasi sure sign that humankind is venturing beyond limits, borders it should not cross in the ancient primary forests of Africa.

In Belgium, a government was formed, that is blatantly anti-democratic regarding the French-speaking minority, all thanks to one French-speaking rightwing party, its leader all too preoccupied with the prospect of becoming Prime Minister to worry about betraying the people he's supposed to represent, endorsing ultra-right economical and social themes and actions that his party hadn't even laid out during the electoral campaign. Austerity is about to strike hard, in a country which had been preserved the folly imposed all around Europe by Germany – that is its rich pensioners, who care nothing about the misery, the pain, the shame and utter despair the return rates they demand for their pension funds create for hundreds of millions of people. The lackeys of a very small minority are now in power in Belgium, and they're more than anxious to cater to their masters. To make them richer, by making everyone else poorer, hiding behind the false justifications of phony economy gurus. In the face of the obvious failure of the austerity policies imposed by Germany and the likes of David Cameron, it's folly to start down the road that destroyed the social and economic balance of other countries, and yet, this is what the Belgian government is engaging in.

Still, Autumn saw huge demonstrations and strikes. A perfume of refusal, in the hearts of those who are being robbed of their rights, all so that the rich can get richer. But of course, it wasn't enough. So, while we're taking a break and wait for the new year to come, I can't help but wonder : what's next ? Will we roll over and take sheer injustice, ugly betrayal and madness with bowed heads ?

In Greece, the depression has destroyed countless lives. People lose their jobs, their abillity to access healthcare, their access to electricity, the ability to send their kids to school, their homes...their lives. Reduced to a state worse than that of a third world country, Greece seems condemned to endure ever more pointless austerity, as well as moral lessons from Germany, which should know better and shut its trap.

Wait, no : strike that. Correction : Greece SEEMED to be condemned.

In this passing of the year 2014, in the time when Light rises against the Dark and hope for the renewal of Spring flowers in hearths and hearts, something happened.

The inept, grotesque government formed by ND and PASOK fell, unable to gather enough votes to elect their presidential candidates – and when one knows how devious the Greek presidential election system is, designed to allow for betrayal and changes of hearts (however motivated) between the three election rounds, well, one realizes how much anger and refusal there must be, even among this fickle, poorly reliable body that is the Greek parliament.

What this incompetent government wanted to avoid, what its masters – Germany, the ECB, the IMF and the European Commission – wanted to avoid at all costs in a stunning display of authoritarian refusal of democracy, is going to happen.

There will be general elections in Greece, and they will take place on January 25th, 2015. In less than a month, democracy will at last regain its place.

And in these elections, it seems that SYRIZA, the one credible leftwing party left, might win, and at long last get to power. This is what Germany, the ECB, the IMF and the European Commission have dreaded for more than two years : the rise of a party that isn't full of cronies and lackeys solely focused on their own agenda, all indebted to the powers-that-be. SYRIZA is their nightmare.

SYRIZA is Greece's last, best chance. For the future. For hope.

Already, the powers-that-be muster their forces : the IMF has announced it will cut its funding to Greece. In yet another gross disregard for democracy, Germany is unsubtly warning the Greek people that if they do not vote « as they should », than it will cut the life line, and let Greece die – no matter that austerity hasn't helped, and won't ever help, that it destroys people and their society, that it fuels hatred and the horrors of parties like Golden Dawn, no matter that everyone knows that Greece's debt is unsustainable, and that all austerity does is pushing people deeper into poverty and despair, in the waiting arms of the neo-nazis.

There will be worse in the weeks leading to the elections : markets will plunge – the sacra-sanct, infallible markets. The so-called godlike invisible hand will warn the Greek people of the doom that awaits them, should they err in their vote, and fail to re-elect the failed, grotesque ND and PASOK. Greek banks will threaten default. Rating agencies will review their quotes. Fake economic gurus will foretell fire raining from the skies and the earth splitting beneath Greece's feet.

And yet, the Greek people will vote. And yet, they will have the power to say no. To try and win free. Oh, I have no doubt it will be hard, difficult. I have no doubt that the forces that will unite to bring Greece down to heel will be terrible.

But, tell me, what do the Greeks have to lose ? They have already lost everything.

This is their one chance to fight back, to regain their pride, trampled from underfoot by people who should know better, who should have the decency to say nothing. This is their one chance for hope. And yet, I know that a great many Greek people are so far gone, so tired of failed promises and lies, so weary of trying to hang on to hope, that they just want to shut their eyes and do nothing. Wait. Sleep. Be oblivious.

This is the reason for my question mark. Are the Greek people resilient enough to shrug off all the pain, the burdens, the misery and the despair hammered on their shoulders to look up, and dare hope ? Dare challenge the powers-that-be ?

Hope sometimes hides in the most unexpected places. Here is one : a song by Alain Souchon and Laurent Voulzy – The Clever Bird :

Oh, beware all those who are bereft of everything

Sings and sings a small, clever bird

Rising up to the sky, flying and diving

Above realms and republics

The clever bird watches and sees

The financiers cloaked in Mystery
Playing on their plasma screens, hey

With the money that so many people hope for

Masters and servants

From their sheltered offices

They don't hear the bird singing

They don't head the bird's song

Foretelling their danger

So, I join my hopes to those of all the people who wish for change, who have fought and will continue to fight for change. For a better, fairer world. This is not an impossible goal, an unattainable objective, no matter how so-called wise men and women berate you that it's kidlike delusions. I know this, at least. I hope the Greek people remember it. For if Greece rises to the challenge of the powers-that-be and dare place their trust in SYRIZA...

Everything will change.

Greece might well be the symbol, the flagship of change, the beginnings of a fire that only needs a spark to rise and bring warmth and light to our dying Europe in the coming year.

May it be so.

With all my heart, I wish you a happy new year, Greece. I wish you hope, and pride.

Resistance !

It's an old word, Resistance, one that had fallen out of fashion, replaced by compliance and resignation. It's a word whose nobility has been branded into generations of human beings who refused oppression, authoritarianism and dictatorship. From the battles on the plains of Gaul to the guerilla warfare led against the Nazi in France during World War II, its echoes had almost faded from our hearing range.

Almost.

Resistance has been coming back into the groove these last few days. It's shouted and echoed by thousands of passionate voices. In Paris, at the Bastille, one hundred and twenty thousands voices lifted it up and sent it soaring up to the sky, challenging clouds and defeating a forecasted rain which never fell. The endless tides of people thronged the streets of Paris, answering the call of one man who managed the tour de force of uniting the true left of the political spectrum. Jean-Luc Mélenchon, for the Left Party, is one among the ten candidates for France's presidential elections, and he's also the one man who has breathed in a sense of hope into a gloomy and beleaguered society.

At the turn of the year, Mélenchon was the butt of the pundits's jokes. He was a clown, a bully – pundits hate those who refuse to pay them homage and submit to their little branding games as a rule – and a scarecrow who might not even reach the 5% of votes necessary to receive funds for his campaign. Mélenchon was just an oddity, way out there, and often equated with the far right's Le Pen, in what was, as the pundits well knew, the worst insult they could throw at him, not to mention a blatant lie.

But time passed. Mélenchon set out to meet the people in all the corners of France. He set out to reconquer all those women and all those men who had given up on politics, given up on voting. He set out to confront the far right head-on, refusing to abandon to Le Pen the workers and the poor, all categories of people which the traditional left had simply written off their agenda. And something happened. People started to come to his meetings, to hear him talk. To hear Mélenchon explain, explain and explain again what politics is, the tremendous power people have and should never relinquish. To hear Mélenchon teach again the use of the word: Resistance. He's an exceptional orator, is Jean-Luc Mélenchon, someone versed in literature, who can quote Victor Hugo and hundreds of other authors on the fly, in complete improvisation. He's also someone who never let anyone write his speeches – not even himself : he jots down the main ideas, and then he dives into the battle of eloquence. He fences with words, spurred by inspiration and conviction. And you know what ? The sincerity in the man reaches out to the people who come to see him. It embraces them and sparks hope in their hearts anew.

Days went by, then weeks. And more and more people came to listen to Jean-Luch Mélenchon. Among them, young people, old people, some who had turned their back on politics, others who never thought they'd be interested in it. The audiences grew and, at last, the pundits were forced to acknowledge that Mélenchon was a true contender for the presidency. And Mélenchon overtook Le Pen in the surveys, becoming the third man, and taking back from the far right people it had deceived and lured toward it. Of course, the pundits did what they do best : they acknowledged his score in the surveys while nurturing their contempt for the man and using all the weapons at their disposal to belittle the ideas he defends – and to belittle the people who come in great waves to listen to him, to rediscover that politics is noble, perhaps the noblest of domains, and rediscover that, yes, they have power.

Then came March, 18th, 2012. The anniversary of 1871's Commune de Paris, the one great hope of the poor one hundred and forty years ago, crushed with sabers and guns and cannons, and rivers of blood. On that Sunday, one hundred twenty thousand people came to the Bastille from all over France, so many that Jean-Luc Mélenchon had to shorten his speech on the fly by half, in order to allow the people massing in the square and all the adjacent streets to move on before they ended up crushed against barriers.

The pundits watched, speechless.

And then again, yesterday, seventy thousand people filledToulouse's gigantic main square and the streets all around it. And Resistance once again soared up to the sky, echoed by all those voices.

I do not know what will happened on the evening of April 22nd. I do not know if Jean-Luc Mélenchon will end up third in the race. I do not know if the unthinkable will happen, and send him to the second round run-off. But I do know one thing : Jean-Luc Mélenchon's passionate words and oratory talents have rekindled hope in a great many people's hearts, re-empowering them, giving them back a power they had thought stolen from them forever. His project of social justice, his refusal to bow down before the threats and scorn of the pundits and the power-that-be, his willingness to relinquish power to the people and to lift them up from the black pit of resignation and indifference, of the life of blind slavery to a system gone mad find an echo. An echo that grows. It places politics back at the center of the game, it gives politics back the nobility the right and the social-democrats have sold piece by piece for their own comfort over the years, until politics was no more than filthy rags people didn't want anything to do with.

Politics is the heart and soul of a democracy. Jean-Luc Mélenchon is reminding all of us of this fundamental truth. Power is in our hands. Nobody can take it form us, unless we allow them to. We can do something. We can change the world. We can turn the system upside down, if we gather. If we unite our forces. A revolution of citizens, peaceful, through the polls, this is the possibility he offers the French people.

Resistance.

And for that, for sparking hope and giving back politics its nobility, I for one am thankful.

I do not know what will happen on April 22nd. I can only hope, but even that is a gift.

Good journey, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, may it take you far, may it give you the leverage to force the socialists to lead a true leftwing policy if they end up in the Elysee.

Imagine, if the socialists win the preisdential, with Mélenchon's support, and if, one year from now, the socialists win the general elections in Germany with the support of Die Linke. Imagine, The Left Party and Die Linke having leverage on the socialists, enough to shape policies toward the left, more social justice. Imagine...

Resistance is trendy once again.

Good journey, and good luck.

And if you want to know more, as luck would have it the Guardian has a long paper about Mélenchon here : Jean-Luc Mélenchon: the poetry-loving pitbull galvanising the French elections.

End-of-Year Musings

« What do you want ? »
« Who are you? »
« Do you have anything worth living for? »

The shadow in the mirror smiles as it asks its ritual questions. I smile also, being its faithful relfection. The order in the questions is wrong. You cannot say what you want unless you know who you are. And you cannot begin to pretend to know who you are if you don't have any idea why the hell you're living this strange life you were born to without asking for it in the first place.

Today is Christmas day for christians. For me, it's a focal point of beliefs and symbols. It's a day when the echoes of our multiple pasts reach out to embrace us, whether we realize it, or not. We have Christmas trees. We have gifts. We have fire in the hearth, we have the traditional « Bûche de Noël » - the Yule log. We celebrate the return of the light, of the sun rising from the heart of winter, the deep of night and darkness, without which it loses all meaning. Like life, which is meaningless without death, no matter how hard grief and loss are to bear for those who remain.

As always, the end of year period belongs to questions. It belongs to doubts and reflections and stubborn hopes, to indignation and the elusive promise of revolutions to come – pehraps even more so this time than ever before. So why not indulge this shadow in the mirror and its relentless questions and challenges ?

Why not, indeed ? But we'll do it my way.

« Do you have anything worth living for ? » the shadow asks from within its mirror. Well, the first answer to that should be obvious : I have this life, you dolt. And it's in me to make the most of it. To kindle it and make it burn high and bright, to fuel its flames with my heart and send it soaring high, until it touches the sky. And then there are all the other answers. All the people I love. All the places that resonate inside my heart. All the lives I touch, all the lives who touch mine. All the world. All the universe, boundless. « Big words, » the shadow snorts in the mirror. « Big, but rather empty. »

Really ?

I think not, dearest reflection. Reach out, touch all that surrounds you, if you dare. Let all that surrounds you touch you, if you dare. Break the shell. Shed the armor. Watch. Listen. Feel. The world, the people, they are so many onions stinging your eyes as you peel off the layers isolating you from it all. They make you cry. They make you angry. They make you smile. They make you proud. They make you sad. They enrage you. They disgust you. They enflame you. So many emotions. So many thoughts. So many things to say and feel and express. Too many to put into words : joy, revolt, grief, hope, despair, anger, fury, contempt, spite, happiness, pride, shame, hatred, love, sparks, fire, cold, ice, determination, stubbornness, fight, refusal, solidarity, indignation, revolution.... So you see, there are too many things, overflowing, spilling from this mind of mine, to put into words. The only way to express it all, is to encompass the whole chaotic mess with big words. Big, but not empty if you know how to read them.

So, next question, please. « Who are you ? »

Again, the answer seems obvious. I am who and what I am. I am a human being, full of flaws, torn between the dark and the light. Standing between dusk and dawn. Flickering gray, I am one funambulist among billions of others. I am a sum of contradictions. I also happen to be a woman, but don't be afraid, women are simple human beings like everyone else, regardless of religions' misogyny and bigotry. « Yeah, right, » the shadow in the mirror smirks. « That says nothing at all about who you are. Big words again, and avoidance of the real answer. » Is that so ? But who could give a definite answer to that question ? We are always building ourselves. We grow and change and become who we are and will be with each moment that passes, with each encounter we make, with each and every event we experience. Any definite answer would become false in the moment I'd write it. The present is a heartbeat, over and done, and then renewed, repeated again and again, different each time, everlasting and inexistent. « Sophistry, » the shadow in the mirror spits. « You gorge yourself with words and sentences that have no meaning. » Do I ? Or are you just miffed and frustrated because those words and sentences are just more questions which ask for answers nobody can give, ô dearest shadow in the mirror ? But then it's true I do love babbling, the more so when I write in English. And, yeah, that's also part of who I am, so there !

All right, last but not least, « What do you want ? »

In Babylon 5, the single best ever aired SF TV series, answering that question is damning yourself. Be careful what you wish for, it may come true, is the lesson B5 teaches in the most cruel and definite fashion...or is that the real message ? Lately I tend to see it as more of a warning : stop depending on others to make your wishes come true. Take your destiny in your own hands. Move your fucking ass, because if you wait for someone else to do it for you, you may not like the result – and then it's usually too late to take it back and do something else. But let's get back to what I want. The answer to that shouldn't be very hard to find. You only need to read the posts I've written on this blog along the years, but if that task sounds too daunting, I can probably summarize it for you here :

I want us to grow up.

I want us to stop bowing our heads before the dictates of the powers-that-be.

I want us to deserve the name of « human beings ».

I want justice to prevail for everyone. Social justice. Economic justice.

I want us to be free of religions, of bigotry and obscurantism, be it Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Hinduist, Buddhist, Animist or other.

I want us to think for ourselves, and stop swallowing the garbage flung down our throats by the mass media.

I want people to involve themselves in unions, in politics.

I want people to do more than whine and then slump down in the sofa to watch sports or some other TV junk like reality shows.

I want us to stop allowing ourselves to be blinded, to be driven like plough horses during the course of our lives.

I want us to stop nodding our heads when frauds come on TV, on the radio or in the newspaper to tell us that « There Is No Alternative » or that « we've lived above our means until now, and so it follows that now we must take care of our debt ».

I want us to think outside the box.

I want us to stand up for ourselves and turn the tables on the powers-that-be, on the Ron Pauls and Rick Perrys and Newt Gingrich, on the Koch brothers and the Albert Freres and Vincent Bollorés, on the Etienne Davignons and Jean-Luc Dehaenes, the Goldman Sachs and JP Morgans and UBS. I want us to turn this oligarchy upside down, to depose those ploutocrats and their faithful dogs : Nicolas Sarkozy, Barack Obama, Angela Merkel, Lucas Papademos, Mario Monti, Mario Draghi, the IMF, the ECB and all the other zealots in the media everywhere.

I want us to do the revolution.

I want us to be happy, to be balanced and to live in peace.

I want to see, feel, touch and hear the beauty of this world we live in.

I want...so many things I could fill a thousand lifetimes with them, but that's all right. Like the weeds and the moss in my garden, I'll endure. I'll grow even though it rains. I'll keep standing up. I'll keep on fighting, no matter whether I stand a chance to reach the lofty goals I set for myself.

Because that's who I am.

Because that's what I want.

Because that's what makes this life worth living.

And that's it for grand philosophy moments from me...well, that's it for this time, anyway. As to the future, I make no promises ! =)

And now, for a core dump

I’m late for my usual end-of-year message, musing about everything that felt important to me or might feel important to me in the future. Maybe I’m simply tired with repeating the same things, over and over again. Maybe I’m fed up with the stupidity I see all around, and the imbecility of what I read, day after day – the continued unfairness, injustice, all supported by the very people it hurts, people who lack the necessary education to decode, to analyze, to criticize all the garbage sent their way, and who invariably go for what’s simple, what doesn’t require effort or thought.

Sometimes, I wonder whether I’m not fed up with people, period. With humanity as a whole. But then, those are old thoughts, old haunts which cling to the dusty corner of my mind, born when I was a would-be revolutionary teen, who was going to change the world and make it a good place for everyone. And then, I stumble on a story or other, where I hear or read about wonderful people who do incredible things, without any hope of gain of any kind, like this Haitian who came back to a devastated country, poisoned by sickness and poverty nothing can seem to stop or change. And I read how this man uses the money he inherited and won to build a school so that kids abandoned in the streets can have a chance at education. I hear how he’s building a plant to recycle waste and help clear the garbage filling the streets of Haiti. I watch documentaries about those distant communities living in the remotest areas of earth, where people still know solidarity, generosity and being there for one another.

And then I see people, close to me, responding to calls that we make – that I make in some cases – to resist and defend themselves, to refuse to bow down and accept the dictates of the powers-that-be, those who can never have enough, and never have to answer for the mistakes they keep doing, no matter how grave.

And I remember that, yes, it’s worth it to keep on fighting, to keep on defending the ideals you believe in, no matter the odds, no matter the difficulty. I remember that, and I soldier on, even if there are moments when I think it’s really getting hard. I intend to continue soldiering on, and weirdly enough, it makes me happy. It makes me happy to contemplate struggle, conflict and strife. Because, painful and exhausting as those may be, they are the unmistakable, undeniable proof that I am alive, that we are alive. And that’s definitely a good thing – well, this may not be logical, but then who cares, right?

After that, well, I wonder what 2011 will bring. My beloved little country is on the verge of explosion, all thanks to a bunch of radical nationalists, selfish and bigotish, who like nothing more than to rewrite history and victimize themselves – a trait they share with right and far-right political parties such as the Tea Party, which we can thank, along with Fox News, Glenn Beck and other gardeners of hate, for the tragedy that struck Tucson. Europe is slowly, quietly on the verge of collapsing, under the relentless blows of financial capitalism, this blind bane which knows only one thing: I want it all, I want it now, and I want more, more, more, more! All these things, we have either engineered, or allowed to happen. We are the ones who let the monster be born, we are the ones who fed it. And even now, we are the ones who are allowing it, begging it to dictate the way we should live. Even now, we’re getting ready to accept austerity measures to placate “the financial markets”, these strange, dangerous and all-powerful entities…give me a fucking break!

This, all of this, the so-called retirement problem, everything: we can change it. We can live the way we want. We do not have to bow down to any “arithmetical argument”, there is no such thing. What there is, is what there always is: choices. Political choices. Society choices.

And there, lies our responsibility.

If we are educated enough to truly, fully understand all that’s being thrown our way.

If.

All right. Enough rambling for one day.

Bring 2011 and its cortege of challenges and battles. Bring them all on!

The Trouble with Retirement? What Trouble?

It’s the furious, impassioned debate of the moment, well, of the decade.

People live longer. They grow older. They don’t have as many children as they used to in times past—and yet the population keeps growing, how’s that for an amusing paradox? Still, it’s all horrible. We can’t go on the way we’ve been going: we can’t allow people to retire at 60 any longer (or 65 in many countries). It’s not a question of ideology, it’s a simple question of mathematics, of arithmetic: since the pension of the people who retired is paid for by the social contribution taken on the wages of working people, the growing number of old people and the dwindling number of people at work simply makes it impossible to keep the system alive as it is, financially speaking. It’s obvious to all, regardless of their political opinions. Obvious, I tell you! You cannot, you may not gainsay the Powers-that-Be! So say we all! (yeah, right)

Really, who do those, oh so wise Powers-that-Be think they’re kidding?

Bullshit!

We live longer. Hey, newsflash: it’s a good thing, it’s a happy thing. We should be rejoicing, not gloomily spreading around predictions of doom! When someone we know retires, we congratulate him/her, we don’t start commiserating and nodding in empathy with the unhappiness the lucky person is about to experience!

Let’s go back on our beautiful, so-called unarguable mathematics: the more time passes, the less people under 60, and the more people over that age, yeah. So, what? How does that portend the doom of our pensions? Say I apply this kind of “mathematical argument” to farmers in the beginning of the 20th century: imagine, we’re in the 1900s, and I go around foretelling general famine in the country by the year 1930, since the farmers’ numbers will dwindle so much that there won’t be enough people to farm the land and feed us all anymore. Yeah, it's ridiculous, I know. But the argument is exactly the same as the ones used to foretell the death of our pensions. And it’s as invalid for farmers and general famine as it’s for the ageing population and pensions.

Why?

Simple: farmers’ numbers dwindled, but techniques improved, productivity grew dramatically, and so we compensated for the reduced numbers. We didn’t starve, did we? It’s the same here: the funding for our pensions comes from the social contribution taken out of our wages. If you take a good look at the system, it doesn’t exactly depend on an ever-growing number of people who contribute. What it does depend upon is the total amount of money coming from the social contributions. There, you have it. Of course, to completely understand, you need to know some pieces of history nobody ever cared to put in the school programs—I reaaaaaally wonder why, by the way.

As we progressed in time, as productivity rose, and industry profits along with them, social contributions were raised (them and our net incomes along the way). This resulted from a very simple, a fair equation: more profit means more money to distribute, to share between workers, CEOs, and shareholders. As Gross Domestic Products (GDP) rose in our countries, so did the social contributions, and so did the funding for our pensions, our social security system, and so on. However, that movement stopped at some point.

It happened in the end of the 1970s. That’s when the neo-liberal reform started.

That’s when Powers-that-Be, frustrated that their profits were not skyrocketing quickly enough, decided to take on what was slowing them down: sharing a fair portion of the profit with the people who do the actual work. From that moment on, they started working at unravelling our welfare system, they bought media, they bought politicians. They brainwashed us, they manipulated us into believing that all the things we have to live through, all the hardships, all the economic and social crises—all that is inevitable. Mathematical. Inescapable. Unarguable.

Don’t trust me? Well, by all means, don’t. Simply go check the numbers on the growth of the GDP in our countries over the years, and of course the numbers on wages growth, and shareholder dividends’ growth. You won’t be disappointed.

GDP has kept rising over the years.

Wages have kept rising lower and lower over the years.

Shareholder dividends have skyrocketed over the years.

So, you see, there is no problem with our pensions. None. The only problem there is, is in making the Powers-that-Be give up their ever-growing greed and thirst for more and more profit, more and more money. We need only re-distribute the profits fairly. If we do, our welfare system, our pensions will never even blink, no matter how old we grow as populations.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is not at all impossible.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is a political decision.

And, remember, you’re the ones who vote.

You’re the ones who choose, and who put politicians in power.

So, that’s it from me for now.

I could go on, of course. I could also explain how people who’ve retired more and more remain active members of the community, and as such that their activities should be given an economical value, same as ours. I could then explain that, with this in mind, the so-called problem of the retired versus active people ratio simply ceases to exist at all…but enough with my ceaseless babblings!

Good night, and good luck (and read Bernard Friot if you can!)

When You Peer into the Abyss

If you're crazy or brave enough to start looking down into the Abyss, you'll find it staring back at all of us with the face of an orthodox economist spewing out his so-called “wisdom”. He’s smiling, that orthodox economist. If you try listening to the strange sounds which come out of his mouth, spluttering past his smug smirk, you’ll realize that the man actually believes that economy is a science, and that the things it calls laws are Absolute Truths the universe bows down to and has been praying to everyday since the Big Bang.

He tells you that you must be virtuous, that orthodox economist, like all good priests and religious practitioners do. He explains that you must present Good Numbers to the Markets, or they’ll eventually punish you for your sins, and that’s only natural. Of course there are no subtitles, but you can hear the capital G, N and M that indicate he’s mentioning sanctified elements of the almighty religion that economy has become. It’s now so powerful that it’s been officially set above populations’ welfares, above kids, above women and men, old and young and middle-aged. We are servants of this economy, it’s our master, and if we fail the laws it imposes upon us without even a by-your-leave, then we will be punished in the end. We must be punished.

Of course, when we populations, through the swift and decisive actions of our governments, indebted ourselves to save the Holy Banks and the Almighty World Financial System, so quickly and so deeply that we ended up with extremely Bad Numbers for our collective budget deficits, nothing happened. No lightning crackled in the Heavens of Economy to smite us sinners down. One could have started wondering at the versatility of Economy at this point, but then religions in all of humanity’s history have always had a ready answer to the questions and doubts of heretics and sceptics:

The Divine Works in Mysterious Ways.

There, you have it. Bad Numbers were tolerated then, welcomed even, wished for and demanded. Now, well, things have changed. But then, perhaps it has something to do with those who mention the necessity to tame in the Holy Markets, to rein them in and impose rules on them, so that they again go back to what they should never have ceased to be: tool in the service of human beings, and not the other way around. Perhaps it has something to do with those states that would attack the Holy Sanctity of the Markets. Heretics! Of course they must be punished. Of course they must be struck down and brought to their knees. Of course. And that’s exactly what’s happening right now: round up the all-powerful rating agencies, and the nations will tremble, the world will shake and start blabbering excuses, apologies, and profess renewed virtue, offer sacrifices in the form of austerity plans that will accomplish nothing except for smothering real people and weakening all those who want to defend people’s rights against the blind dogma of Holy Economy that only exist to serve the interests of a lucky few.

And then what? People fill the streets of Athens in protest against decisions made by a government that will destroy what little they still had, all so that privileged castes can keep their riches? People have the gall to demonstrate in Greece, to refuse to pay for a crisis they didn’t cause(*)? Why, shame on them! The Markets won’t take kindly to these protests, to these people refusing to bow down and accept the inevitable return to virtue! They will react, and their retribution will come, swift and harsh.

Oh, yes. That’s what the orthodox economist who’s sitting down at the bottom of the abyss and stares back at you with a snigger says. He tells you that you must bow. He tells you that people’s freedom of expression must give precedence to the Holy Markets and the All Powerful Dictates of Economy and Finance. Seriously. Gently. Like a father shaking his head at misbehaving children.

So we should all be German. We should all be serious, virtuous. Now, can anyone tell me why? I mean, seriously, can anyone explain to me what we, as people, as women and men of flesh and blood, stand to gain by being like Germany? What? We’d have terrific Numbers to offer the Markets on their Holy Altars (another name for Stock Exchange)? Errm, yeah? So what? Remind me again, how is the welfare of the German people? How are their lives? Wages dropped, security of employment dropped? The number of working poor—you know, those people who have a job, who work day in day out, and don’t earn enough to make a living, to pay their rent, their food, their clothes, their bills—exploded? Chronic unemployment in less favoured regions never abated? People aren’t happy, except for the same social classes, or castes? Germany is now better known as the Country of the Euro Jobs?

And we should be like them? We should want to please the Holy Markets?

I don’t think so.

Economy is powerful because it’s backed by powerful people who’ve tried to rig all the circles of power. This should ring a bell. Aristocracy used to be powerful. In France, kings ruled, their power coming from what the Catholic Church labelled as the Will of God. It was the Order of Things, and it lasted for many centuries. Then came 1789.

Looks like that time is coming again.

Fast.

(*) causes are, among the most important ones: the privileged high social classes (high bourgeoisie and also, in the public sector, think high-ranking officials during the Yang Dynasty—that, or apparatchiks in the now defunct USSR) and all the laws designed to allow them not to pay taxes, the companies also privileged by specially designed laws to allow them not to pay taxes, black market economy, restaurants, cafes, shops everywhere never paying VAT, not to mention their taxes, landowners not paying taxes linked to the wealth they have and the value of the land they own (first among them the Orthodox Church, first landowner in Greece which doesn’t pay the first cent in taxes but, hush, it’s a secret)…oh, and let’s not forget Germany and its crass behaviour, its devastating handling of a crisis which would NEVER have taken place, had it simply chosen to say “shoo” when the first, feeble little sparks of the now European Blaze started. Now the monster is unleashed, and virtuous priest Angela Merkel may well find that she won’t be able to control it, and that in the end, it will devour oh so zealot and virtuous Germany along with it. Sometimes, I almost wish this would happen.

Invictus ?

Undaunted, unvainquished? Why, maybe, but “invictus” is Latin, and Latin uses gender to qualify adjectives. Where “undaunted” is genderless, and applicable to male or female, “invictus” is marked as male. The female form would be “invicta”. But never mind.

So, invictus—or invicta—yes, but whom does this apply to?

The financial system, which plunged us down the abyss, saved through the use of massive blackmail by the use of taxpayer money, it has then spit upon? This financial system which refuses any kind of regulation even though the whole world got the bright display of its utter failure and its innate danger? This financial system which got saved by our money because it threatened governments of massive bankruptcies which would cause chaos on a global scale, leaving people, leaving us, without money, a money we gave to banks for safekeeping and they lost while playing at the casino?

Capitalism, this economic system which also demonstrated its inevitable failure where people’s wellbeing is concerned? This economic system which showed it can only function through endless sequences of crisis that harm these insignificant human variables in its “perfect” equations?

Barack Obama and his Health Care Plan, which cleared the House and Senate under fire, under the most incredible, outrageous campaign of blatant lies ever conceived (death panels where they decide to pull the plug on grandma, anyone? To think that there are people crazy and stupid enough to buy such bullshit just...urrrgh)? This plan which, even though opponents and bought-off Democrats helped gut as much as they could, will nevertheless revolutionize the way things are done, and help millions of people to get coverage?

The Republicans, who are busy rearing their ugly heads and blaming Obama for inept security designs and measures THEY planned and enacted? The worse there is that there would be people who’d agree with such blatant manipulations…

Nature, which still knows Winter, and can have snow on the eve of the new years in regions where it’s normal that Winter be cold? Nature, which will always survive, no matter what ecologists say, even if temperatures keep rising? Of course humankind would most likely disappear, but nature would adapt, and develop other solutions, life would prevail, there’s no doubt about that, it’s called “evolution”, the thing that foaming-at-the-mouth fanatics of all religions, Christianity included, refuse to acknowledge in spite of scientific proof.

Hope for freedom, in the hearts of millions of people in Iran? People who keep fighting and demonstrating in spite of the use of brutal force by authorities who are now mired in their own contradictions and failed plans to remain in power?

Us? Trade union people who keep our heads held high and refuse to bow down to the dictates of powers-that-be who’d have us renounce our rights in order to save a system that has failed, and all but enslaved us all?

The great Hadron Collider in Geneva, which is now reopened for business? This fantastic ring which some feared might cause a black hole that would engulf the earth within a heartbeat? This ring which may be the crucible inside which we’ll find the Boson of Higgs, the Particle of God?

Michael Moore, who will not renounce trying to explain to his fellow citizens just what kind of trap they’ve been ensnared into for generation? However exaggerated the tone of his moves, however outrageous his images and words can be, however mocked and ridiculed he can be by powers-that-be and “well-thinking, well-educated-and-bred” people of the good society, he will not stop. And every single person who listens, and then simply starts thinking, and asking questions, seeking answers, is a victory.

China, who will see the west destroyed before making the first concession to anything? China, who will kill a man with known mental illness simply to prove a point? China, who uses scores of millions of its own population, the migrant workers, as slaves, as cannon fodder for its blooming economy?

Black and white, light and dark. Good and evil. Contradictions. That’s who we are. That’s human. And that’s certainly undaunted. Unvanquished.

But “invictus”? Ah, no, sorry. Invictus is male, and applies to “Sol Invictus”, this celebration which Christianity parasitized, among countless others, and then claimed as its own. Male, because Sol is the sun, and the sun divinity was considered male by many civilizations. Although why that would be is beyond me, except if you take into account the design to put males in the role of dominant, radiant, strong, and the females in the opposite role. I happen to disagree. But then, I happen to be female; and born Aries, so sign of Fire and color Red. That does look like the sun, doesn’t it? And trust me, I’m female!

So, no “invictus”. But undaunted. Changing and unchanging. We are true to our nature, which is not exactly beautiful as a whole. We are who and what we are. We can only try to grow, to be better. And that hope, that attempt at greatness, well that also is undaunted.

And that, at least, is a good thing.

Happy new year 2010, and may it be wiser than the last !

Veiled Reflections

The veil/niqab controversy won't die in France. It may seem weird to countries like the US or the UK, where just about all the forms of religious extremism or communautarism are openly tolerated, and where communities live among themselves, in ghetto-like quarters where people from different cultures don't mix.Usually people from those two countries look down on what's happening in France or in latin countries with a sort of kind superiority, claiming they're more tolerant, and we're all backward, stuck-up people who won't see the error of their ways.

Still, at least here we wonder, we question. We do not automatically validate everything that gets thrown our way. We try (and often fail) to promote the mix of cultures, to ban ghetto-like suburbs or quarters (but here our nice and gentle and well-educated bourgeoisie doesn't help much). And this latest controversy concerning women (not many) who flaunt the use of the niqab (complete veil which doesn't even let you see the eyes of the person) as some twisted revendication of ethnic roots is one well worth having.

Yes, the use of the niqab in the public spaces (streets, public transports, cinemas, restaurants, cafes, etc.) must be forbidden. Yes, we should not even try to argue with all the false defenders of "freedom" (which, here, is nothing more than another word for "oppression plan deployment"), and simply fall back on the obligation for everyone to be garbed in a manner that will allow them to be identified if a police officer requests it. Still, for the sake of being clear about it, here's my view on why things such as the niqab should be forbidden in all western countries, and all countries which claim they grant women a true status of equality with men :

The niqab acts like a tool of isolation and exclusion of all "others", no matter who or what those "others" may be, no matter what their nature or gender. It's a very simple, direct and primal effect: it's visual and physical both. Anyone who passes by a person wearing the niqab (ou can't tell whether it's a man or a woman) cannot help but respond, on a reflexive level, the same way you'll stare when you notice something out of place close to you, whether you want to, or not.

Beyond the obvious denial of self wearing a niqab represents (denial of one's image to others, and thus denial of self), this garb is the perfect symbol of the denial of the feminine identity, and of the rejection of a woman as a "woman", female human being and equal (even if different) to the male human being, a.k.a. "man".

The "inner beauty" fantasy or the "beyond apparences" rationale cannot resist analysis: we're human beings. As such, we cannot help responding to all external sitmuli: we react to appearances. Our gender is part of our identity and our image. To deny that is to deny oneself or worse, it's to drape oneself in hypocrisy.

And beyond all this, the niqab is as fundamentally disturbing in a western society as a woman wearing shorts and a sleeveless blouse strolling in an Arab country would be: what isn't accepted there because it doesn't respect the country's customs has its equivalent here; and what doesn't shock there (having to adhere to the customs of the country in which you are) shouldn't shock here either (*).

When extremists from all the sides of the spectrum, the false defenders of a so-called freedom which is nothing more than a pretext to establish oppression, or those who seek after roots where they have no chance of finding them will understand this, we'll have taken a great step toward brighter days.

(*) cultural relativism has ery clear limits, which are drawn around oh-so insignificant things such as the universal declaration of human rights (which, incidentally, applies to women as well...)

Something else entirely:
A small, tiger-grey cat came to say hello in Koroni. A smile and a thought from our little one, a bit of light in the blue heavens. And memories, and feelings, and this crazy mixture of warmth, sadness and beautiful memories that nothing can shake. Our beloved little guardian still watches over us. And we remember him. We think about him. We love him.

When a Tiny Drop of Flu Eclipses the World's Misery...

..You know there's something very wrong with the realm of Denmark. Not that this is new, but it's worth underlining in this case.

Day after day after day, the TV news, the newspaper headlines are all the same: the H1N1/Mexican/Swine Flu is threatening the world! SOS! The WHO is rising its danger level to 5 on a scale of 6! Wow, you'd think a tsunami is about to wipe out hundreds of thousands of people. You'd think the Spanish Flu is about to kill millions in the world like it did in the early 1900s--except of course, the Spanish Flu happened a century ago, not now.

As a matter of fact, our very modest H1N1/Mexican/Swine Flu can only boast about less than 20 deaths and some pitiful hundred sick people all over the world. And this is what has the news obsessing? This is what has the governments meeting and worrying?

Please, give me a break.

Our regular, familiar yearly flu outbreak kills tens of thousands of people every winter. It makes hundreds of people sick each winter. And we're going "global quarantine" over less than 20 deaths and some pitiful hundred sick people?

Errrm, would anyone be so kind as to reassure me and explain that we're all on Candid Camera? No? Ah, my bad.

While governments spend billions to buy anti-viral medication which may, or may not be efficient (or simply be outdated)--regardless of the costs, when they're so worried about costs for our health care systems--thus making the huge global pharmaceutical companies happy, while we're all being brainwashed by TV, newspaper, radio and all the communication means available, the world keeps sinking.

Workers keep being laid off. Rightwing governments use the global crisis to justify cutting on expenses, slicing into worker rights, and furthering their objectives to serve the wealthy and the mighty. The powers-that-be reinforce their brutal reign, the financial sharks regain their wealth, their incomes and bonuses which would allow a family to live a whole life on a single year of a Wall Street "Wizard"'s salary.

No regulation measure is decided. No list of tax evasion countries has been drawn--well, no credible one anyway, but if you want to take the insulting joke flung at the world population's face by the G20, well, you're welcome to that. In essence, the whole financial world which dumped us in this mess and is making us pay for their swindling and thieving ways is saying "go on, people, move, nothing to see here, it's business as usual. Have faith, trust us, we're taking good care of everything."

And so, all is set for a repetition of the crisis we're going through. Except of course, the next one will be way worse, as is the way of capitalism's inner workings.

But then, fortunately, we don't need to think about all those depressing things: we have an oh-my-god-wow-it's-like-a-Hollywood-thriller potential flu pandemic on our hands, and the media won't let us forget about it.

I feel so much safer.

Meanwhile, in the World…

Very precise memos on US torture^H^H^H^H^H^H^H excuse me, fine interrogation techniques were released to the public by the Obama Administration. A stunning example of exquisite detail, they explain how, when, where how long (plus all the questions you could ever imagine--some which you would never think of) you should apply those fine torture^H^H^H^H^H^H^H interrogation methods on the prisoners.

As in the famous experiment on submission to authority and estrangement from responsibility and accountability demonstrated, these memos were designed to reassure the tormentors that what they were doing was sanctioned by a higher power. That they were on the side of good, that it was all right. Well, I’ve got news for you, ladies and gentlemen of the US torture battalion: torturers are evil. No matter where, when, how or why, torture is evil. And you who have willingly and knowingly tormented other human beings aren’t heroes. You’re not good citizens. You’re not faithful servants of your country. You defiled its name, you shamed it in an irremediable fashion.

And you must be brought to justice. You must face those you harmed so grievously, those you humiliated, those fellow human beings you reduced to a status far below that of animals.

The economical and financial crisis is going well, thank you very much. Lay-offs are growing exponentially. In Europe, big company CEOs are advancing their agendas to cut down on worker and social rights. Those nice CEOs and their financial tycoon masters cannot give enough thanks for the opportunities this crisis has offered them to reach goals which would otherwise have remained out of their reach. Strangled workers and unions are backed to the wall by powers-that-be who have no morals, no ethics, and for whom balance means being lords over hordes of slaves they can hire, lay off and treat however they want to, because they know what’s best [for them and the stakeholders].

The grand promises of change, of a revolution in the way things are “managed” in the global economy, the promises of regulation, control and sanction that will ensure that such a crisis never happens again…well, they’re here somewhere, I’m sure. There, in the vacuum of space, yeah. In the nothingness of the interstellar void, where all lies and false promises end up. It was to be expected: the powers do not want to be limited. They do not want to face those they’ve harmed, are harming and will continue harming for the sole benefit of less than 5% of the global population, while telling u s that this society we live in, this society they forged, is freedom’s realm—theirs, not ours.

Liars, all of them: Barack Obama, Nicolas Sarkozy, Angela Merkel, Gordon Brown, Hu Jin Tao, Manuel Barroso, Silvio Berlusconi—the list is long. They told us they would change it, and make it better. Make it safer. They said they’d give us back the world the finance tycoons snatched from us. They lied. The one power that would represent us, the State, the union of all States in the world, is a myth, and the men at the wheels are all sold to the powers of finance and international corporations.

In the shadows of the UN building, great enlightened minds of the West are conspiring with the forces of obscurantism to reinstate the crime of blasphemy. They are gathering forces to send us back to the dark ages of the world, when dissent was whipped back with the words of a god or other. Religion, the cancer of civilization and freedom, the form of authority that would dictate every aspect of a person’s life, claiming that some higher power(s) wrote down all those laws, is tiptoeing its way back into a position to dictate what our lives should be. I have nothing against people who choose freely to adopt some rules or others (as long as they don’t impose them on others, be they of their own family), but I draw the line when those people would have me follow their philosophy and laws.

When will religions learn to mind their own business and stay out of ours?

I’ll take care of my soul myself, thank you very much (if I have one, that remains to be scientifically proven).

I don’t believe in any god, goddess, or otherworldly entity. In fact, I believe in one thing: I don’t know what’s out there. Get it through your heads that blasphemy makes no sense when you try to apply it blindly. How can a person who’s not of faith X commit a blasphemy since s/he doesn’t believe in that faith? There can be no general blasphemy crime, because that would mean that the right to not believe, the right to doubt, would no longer exist. You would institute a dictatorship of belief, where you’d go back to burning, torturing, drowning (not necessarily in that order, of course) all those who dare affirm that they bow to nobody, be they mortal, or otherwise.

There, the cat’s out of the bag. Religion is submission to a higher order of things. What it cannot abide is rebellion, doubts, questions. Well, I’ve got news for you, mullahs, priests and all your ilk: bow down all you want. Those of us who refuse to will keep on refusing to amend the errors of our ways.

We won’t bow down. Ever.

Now, get over it, tend to your flocks, and leave us and this world the fuck alone!

And then, last but not least, I have set flowers on a small tombstone in the back of my garden. Time passes, but the feeling of loss lingers. Sometimes it’s so acute it hurts and brings tears to my eyes. I guess it’s the price you pay when you lose one that you loved and love still. In spite of the pain, I’m glad for it. And memories are full of smiles and happy moments.

So here, some thoughts to hover in the limbo of cyberspace. Memories. May they spark light where the sky is grey.

Good Journey

Today your soul was lifted up and drawn by the rising sun.
A gentle, kind spirit. A little furry soul.
You’re gone.
During eighteen years we've shared a path, a house, a garden...
and the same spot on the sofa !
Oh, so precious tidbits of time and companionship.
Of joy.
I've loved you so.
I love you so.
However the Wheel has turned, it can only have turned in a good direction.
Sending you on your journey onward.
I grieve, even though I know it was time.
Even though I know you lived a good, long life.
Perhaps it is selfish of me.
No, it probably is.
You brought us all so much happiness.
Thank you.
My little one.
I love you, and so I could let you go.
It hurts, but it will get better.
I will remember you, so full of life and games.
So agile.
The terror of mice.
Climbing up trees.
Stealing chicken and turkey meaty bones you enjoyed eating under the table.
Lover of sardines and rabbit.
Talkative and so good at making yourself understood.
Your eyes sparkling with life.
Stealing up to the first floor of the house, which you knew you weren’t supposed to do.
Following us down the cellar because we weren’t quick enough to get your meal.
The long cat, stretching from floor to worktop in the kitchen.
Chasing after me in the garden for play.
Galloping and zooming past me before climbing up the pine trees and staring at me, your wide round eyes shining with mischief.
Waiting for me to scare your enemies away.
Always there.
Always close.
Your fur softer than a hatchling’s feathers.
A myriad memories hover in the air.
And them, I will not let go.
You’re here, woven to my heart.
Sleep well.
Rest before embarking on the new road waiting for you.
Good journey, my beloved Socrate.
My little one.
Good journey.
I love you.

Death reaps the beauty of the world
Bundles old crops to hasten new
Be still heart, hold peace.
Growing is better than decay.
I hear the blade which severs life from life.
Be still peace, hold heart.
Death is passing on,
The making way of life and time for life.
Hate dying and killing, not death.
Be still, heart, make no expostulation.
Hold peace, and grief, and be still.
(Poem by Stephen Donaldson - The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant)

On the Brink

December 31st, 2008.

We stand on the brink of 2009.

We stand on the brink of a bloody, all-out war between the Palestinians and Israel, all because of madmen in frantic search of eternal power. The Hamas, murderers, cowards. Terrorists. Betrayers of hope. The Israeli government, intent in redefining the meaning of the word “strength”, and of reawakening the fear of its army throughout the Arab world, in a hopeless quest for popularity before the Israeli people go to the polls. Death, pain, loss and despair, all for the sake of people greedy for power, people lost in petty schemes to win popular support. All for the sake of a lame-duck US administration who’s all too happy to leave this poisoned gift to the successor to the worst president the US has ever had in all its (short) history.

We stand on the brink of the total annihilation of an economical system that has caused poverty, slavery, brainwashing of billions of people into nice, good and obedient little consumers/slaves. A system which believed itself to be eternal after the fall of the Berlin Wall, but which has shown that the only thing it’s capable of is to devour itself. To trigger despair, poverty, loss of ideals and values, to replace it with the one true god it recognizes: money. A system which, after using as slaves all the people of the underdeveloped countries, is now ready to gobble us all up. If we don’t change. If we pass out on this unique opportunity to seize matters in our own hands. If we pass out on this chance to regain control. We, the people. The States. We should seize control of companies, of banks, through public stakeholders. We should be the ones dictating the policies of the multinational corporations. We should be the ones deciding where the profits go: to the States so they can pay our pensions and our social security, our roads, our trains, our schools…not to the stakeholders.

We stand on the brink of a disaster greater than any we have ever known, for if our governments do not heed the warnings we have been given since September, if we do not change the system that dictates how our lives are led, and fast, we will see it wobble through for a year or two. And then it will crumble. And it will take us along with it in its fall.

We stand on the brink of chaos in countries we sent troops in, claiming we’d bring them our enlightened vision of the world. Afghanistan is now worse than it has ever been, all because we support a corrupt government which behaves worse than the Talibans ever did, thus causing the people to side with terrorists, and causing people to regret the cruel rule of those who were nothing more than madmen.

And then, we stand on the brink of hope.

We stand on the brink of change.

In all the dreary news of 2008, there was one which shed light all over the world. One which lifted billions of hearts, and got people to believe in a better tomorrow.

On January 20th, Barack Obama will step into the White House. On his shoulders will rest the hope of a world. The hope of billions of people who need the change he has defended throughout the US presidential campaign. We need hope. We need change. We need someone to steer the way, to lead in another direction. We need someone who will dare turn his back on the old liberalism, on the financial capitalism. We need someone who will dare put us, the people, the States, back in our proper place: center seat, with the controls in hands.

Because of the vote on November 4th, 2008, hope was kindled. And for this, I will forever be grateful.

We stand on the brink.

Mr. Obama, it’s up to you to see to it that we do not fall.

I wish you all the luck in the world.

I wish us all you’ll have the guts and the strength of will and vision to get us through.

Welcome, 2009, welcome, January 20th.

We await you with great hopes and expectations!

The Gall of the Failed Ones

Everywhere it's the same. Everywhere you hear the same: financial capitalism has gone bankrupt. It has twisted our lives, it has betrayed us, it has stolen our wealth and turned it into void. If you pushed some people a bit, they would probably tell you that it eats children and is directly responsible for the eradication of dinosaurs.

Not that I disagree with some of the things that are being said out there, but who's saying that? Well, look around:

Darling W, Gordon Brown, Nicolas Sarkozy...

All these men are the heroes and defenders of the same financial capitalism that has now showed us all it's a failure, and is threatening to take us with it down the drain. They all supported it, they all supported deregulation, and they all fought with everything they had anyone who dared think differently, and anyone who tried to warn of the danger we're now all too much aware of.

And beyond the grand speeches where W, Sarko or Brown tell us that they're going to control the banks, and restore regulation, save us all from the cataclysm, what do their actions tell us? Well, they tell us the truth that's hidden behind their oh so flamboyant words.

Sarko hasn't moved an inch from his positions. Jobless people will still be ousted from the protection system, the rich will still be exonrerated from taxes while the middle class continues to be the one that pays its taxes. The CEOs will regulate their own golden parachutes, there will be no law forbidding them.

In Belgium, the powerful CEOs corporation, the FEB, has the gall to threaten all the workers and the government: if there's a law regulating golden parachutes, then there will have to be deep cuts in the notices the employees have a right to when they're fired.

The speakers for all the rightwing parties, whose policies have always supported financial capitalism, now spew out words that belong to the left. They remember the name of Keynes, they remember concepts like using the state's power to help maintain the economy. They turn their back on rightwing neoliberal politics, they embrace policies they abhor, policies they insulted and spat upon yesterday without the smallest qualm. Without ever admitting that they were mistaken, that they misled people all these years. They blissfully turn coat in their speeches, making it seem they always thought that way, making it look like they're just doing what they have to do, oblivious to lies, coherence and decency.

And what's worth is: behind the strong words, the actions prove that nothing has changed: in France, huge sums of money have been poured into the banks (which is mandatory because we all stand on the other end of that line and if banks sink, we sink along with them, faster and harder) without insuring ANY MEANS OF CONTROL over the banks' actions and strategies--other than imprecations and other empty speeches delivered by the fake commander in chief, aka Nicolas "Napoleon" Sarkozy.

While the stocks were soaring, spearing through the sky, all the authorities kept howling for the incomes not to be raised, because nothing could get in the way of economic growth. Salaries couldn't be raised, it'd be impairing the companies, and hindering the system. People could simply be indebted, and it'd all turn out well, they'd be able to buy hordes of things they had no means of paying for, and everyone would be happy. We know where that particular idea led us. Now that everything is going bad, and the incomes haven't been properly raised offr years, now that the workers' unions demand this more than earned raise, the same authorites who keep barking that everything must be done to help people regain their trust in the systme and being once again able to buy stuff, well the same authorities say "ooooh, noooo, no raises, please, no hindering the poor system".

Conclusion: the CEOs keep their golden parachutes, the rich keep their tax cuts and other fiscal tricks to evade tax, the banks get the states' money (our money) without being controlled by the states who lent them the money, the politicians shoo the workers' union away for being baaaaaad people who don't understand how hard it is. Laws and decrees are passed to insure that all the social net dispositions are as hard to obtain as possible, and that people can be written off as soon as possible. And of course, we employees...

Well, we employees are screwed, as usual.

The powers-that-be keep on wanting to push the system that's eating our lives away.

And in the meantime, whenever they can spit on the left, they do. They claim the left's policies are old, obsolete, and lead nowhere.

But where have the right's, the neoliberal policies led us?

Down into the abyss.

So please, give me a break, people. You neoliberals are failures. Making riches out of the poverty of people, allowing them to get more and more indebted to compensate for their lack of income and their lack of social rights as goes the great swindling used in the US of A, is plain and simple suicide.

We know this now.

We know rightwing neoliberal policies are garbage.

So stop trying to mask your worthlessness by spitting on others. Your time is now past. It's time for a change.

I can only hope people remember that, wherever they are, and whenever they cast a vote.

Sleep in Light, Saints of Athena

Today is August 15th, 2008. If you care enough to remember about the schedules of the Elysion-Hen release, then you know that the last two OVAs have been aired on Skyperfect TV in Japan. The end of Saint Seiya has been reached. Now that it's all over, I find myself haunted by a question that refuses to let me be.

How do you say good bye?

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been able to answer that question in a manner that satisfied me. It’s hard to say good bye. It hurts, even more so when you say good bye to people you love, and no matter that they may be fictional characters. Endings are things full of a bitter-sweet sensation, a feeling that engulfs you and overwhelms you in a heartbeat.

So it has been for me on numerous occasions, and so it was once again, when I watched the sixth and last episode of Saint Seiya, Elysion-hen. The last episode of The Hades Chapter. The last page of Saint Seiya. True, the story is over, has been over for over fifteen years, when the manga ended. Still, while the anime wasn’t complete, didn’t cover the whole manga story, there remained pieces of the Saint Seiya universe to explore. There remained stories to tell, characters to depict, characters to watch while they struggled through the harsh lives destiny, or rather the whims and inspiration of an author put them through.

In the middle of the usual, virulent criticism branding these OVAs to the worst hell, claiming them to be garbage, an utter waste of time and attention, I have to once again stand apart from those who probably consider themselves better able to judge, more connoisseurs than I. I know, my opinion isn't the fashionable one, it's a really unseemly view of those OVAs, but then I was never one for conformism. While I will readily acknowledge that the OVAs stick to the manga as close as it’s possible to do so, with very little in the way of creation, of inspiration to add threads where they were lacking—the manga is extremely frustrating in the way it deals with Hypnos and Thanatos, and in the way it completely forgets about the whole relationship between Hades and Shun once the Andromeda Saint wins free of the god of death’s soul—it doesn’t turn these OVAs into a complete and utter waste.

Those who claim it’s so prove their own words wrong, as they’re always the first to jump on the first dirty quality release to hit the web, usually through yucky videos on youtube. Again, they prove themselves wrong when they explain that they’ll forget about the OVAs and go back to the manga, which they’ll reread with pleasure. That’s bullshit. The manga holds all the flaws they hate in the OVAs. The OVAs are so faithful to it that everything these people loathe is there, comes from there in the first place.

And anyway, there are beautiful moments in these OVAs. Scenes that are precious, shining jewels, however short. Like the one depicting Ikki’s Houyoku Tenshou, or the one showing his despair at being unable to deploy all his strength, bereft of a Cloth as he is, next to the urn imprisoning the dying Athena.

Seiya’s death? Why, yes, it’s short. It’s brutal. It doesn’t linger, it doesn’t leave time for anguished and despaired farewells. It strikes when you don’t expect it. It strikes when you’re not watching. You focus on Hades sprawled against the tower of his tomb, and when you realize something’s terribly wrong and refocus on the Pegasus Saint, it’s too late. His heart pierced through by Hades’ sword, every heartbeat bleeds his life away, and it’s already almost completely gone. Seiya’s death isn’t Shion’s. It doesn’t linger. It can’t linger. It’s brutal, harsh and unfair, as death in combat is. It’s over and done before you can really feel it and dwell on it. And it’s irrevocable. And the depiction made of it is a good one, it’s realistic, and correct. That’s one thing nobody who knows the tiniest bit about writing can’t deny.

As to Hades himself, well there’s no question about it. The god of Death is magnificent. The eerie look in his eyes, the alienness, detachment and sadness lighting his gaze are haunting. You watch this strange, cruel and yet sorrowful god, this merciless figure, and you wonder: what made him so? What pushed him to the course of action he has chosen? What happened in the past, in the times when the gods and goddesses freely walked the Earth, shook mountains and sent oceans raging with each step? (*)

And then there’s the confrontation between Hades and Athena. At last, the two divinities face each other in battle. Yes, it lacks animation. Yes, it’s too short. But the art, the auras rising from the two are splendid. There may not be enough brutality and violence, the slipping of Athena’s helmet may be a bit stupid (as stupid as in the manga, mind you), but there is something undeniably noble and unearthly coming from the two divinities. That isn’t a failure. The art of Athena’s Cloth, the way it’s worn by Saori Kido are unmistakable winners in my eyes. There’s only one occasion when she has been drawn and made so regal: in the Tenkai-Hen movie.

Contrary to the claims of the OVAs being completely unable to show anything other than what’s been drawn in the manga, we also see nice shots of Earth, and a reminder of those who have a personal interest in the war’s issue. The Sanctuary and Marin, Shaina and Seika, Miho in Japan and Shunrei in China. Those are in the manga, but what’s not and is being offered is the short scene with Julian Solo/Poseidon and Sorento. Waiting at the edge of the cliffs of Cape Sounio, the God of the Oceans and the human being he shares a soul with watch, wait, guarded by his closest friend and servant. In the falling darkness, despair grips the heart of Sorento. Uncertainty…

As to the rest of the critics, they follow the usual complains of lack of animation and fluidity. As stated before, nobody in their right mind would have expected that to change. The lack of a true staffing for the later chapters of the Hades were known. The lack of budget as well. There was no reason for a miracle to happen in the last two episodes. But besides that, what those who have retained the magic of Saint Seiya in their hearts were given the beautiful art of Michi Himeno and Kyoko Chino, and the inspired music of Seiji Yokoyama. We were given a long awaited closure. We were given the occasion to say goodbye to characters, to a universe which has been with us for more than twenty years.

A universe and characters I have no intention of ever letting go.

And so, contrary to many people who now watch Saint Seiya with detachment, with a critical and analytic eye, and find in the series flaws that revolt them, contrary to people who have grown up and grown out of the magic, I am happy to report that I am still as firmly hooked today as I was on the first day when I switched channels and stumbled on the combat between Shun and Jabu in the Galaxian Wars. My heart has been captured by that series ever since that day, and it’s never going to change. It lives on, its characters live on.

It may be that Saint Seiya is some strange kind of a youth fountain, because I’m still the adolescent I was when I first discovered it. The child in my soul is still here, and it’s a good thing. What’s another good thing, is that this child inside me, this part of me is still as stubborn and mean-tempered as it was. So I’m finding that my answer to the question I asked at the beginning of this page is very simple:

You don’t.

You don’t say goodbye.

You keep on cherishing the characters and the universe.

In spite of all the true flaws, you say thank you to all those who made the Hades possible. You say thank you to Shigeyasu Yamauchi for making the Sanctuary chapter the jewel that it is. You say thank you to all the staff that remained after Masami Kurumada drank too much beer and decided to crack down on creativity and inspiration to add new things and complete the holes the mangaka had left in his storyline.

You say thank you to Shingo Araki, Michi Himeno and Kyoko Chino for sticking with Saint Seiya to the end, in spite of weariness, exhaustion, lack of staffing, of means, of time, and of acknowledgment. You say thank you to Seiji Yokoyama for hauntingly beautiful and inspiring music that are at one with the universe they were created for.

You watch the realm of Hades crumble into dust.

You watch the Saints of Athena, battered and hurt, grieving, stumble down the stairs leading away from Hades’ temple, lost in an ocean of desolation. And while you wonder whether they’re also going to die here, to forever lie in the dust, in a realm of darkness, forgotten and alone, you watch the goddess Athena come behind them, and you watch the light radiate from her to enfold them all.

In the sky, the sun shines again over the world.

Over the Sanctuary.

Over Cape Sounio.

And the gods aren’t gone.

The magic isn’t done. It’s not dried up.

It’s there.

It’s here.

With us, inside our hearts, if only we’ll acknowledge it and believe in it.

I do.

Saint Seiya, I love you.

As usual, you can find this review with beautiful images from the episodes on my web home, here.

(*) After thinking long and hard about that, and trying to find coherence, I did come up with an answer. Read Thieves of Light, and tell me what you think, if you manage to read it to its end.