The day’s going to be a long one, considering it started at four am with the hacking up of gunk.
I’ll concentrate on a distant source of anger. The target offered itself in the morning news when the Minister of the Interior said : “J’assume totalement cette fermeté“. Too bad the French usage of the verb doesn’t find an exact replicate in English. Monsieur le Ministre’s “j’assume” doesn’t translate as: Dr Livingstone, I presume? It doesn’t mean “I suppose” either. In this context, it means “I take full responsibility for”.
The man loves to take full responsibility for. Manly, what? Decisive, gung-ho, lead on, I ain’t no sissy. Arbitrary arrests? Lead on (until the boss says, uh, Bernard, cool it OK).
I stop right there. No time for the stupid nonsense of breaking down people’s doors even when they offer to open with their key. Handcuffing, holding a pistol to their head, cuz cuz, hey, somebody saw the man put on a djellaba. Oyks. He prays even. To Allah. Triple Oyks.
Liberté, liberté chérie.
First day of English classes for children between the ages of six and eleven. No idea what I’ll do beyond introducing myself into their lives (and their teacher’s), getting my bearings in the school, and making it to the end of the afternoon. In the program, I saw something about giving them a taste of British Christmas traditions. The previous English TA was from Britain. I guess that explains it. A bit of Dickens? A bit of Paddington? A bit of Wind in the Willows? who knows.
“J’assume totalement cette stupidité qui est la mienne.” “I take full responsibility for my own stupidity.” Try it, Bernard. Yes, it hurts. Yes, they laugh at you. Their laughter is no way as damaging as what they did to that kid you wiped off your conscience with a belated “my biggest regret…” Was the biggest regret the fact a harmless kid had died when a cop lobbed a deadly device at him? No, Bernard’s biggest regret was the fact he took so long to say what a shame it was that a young ‘un died. Looks bad when you don’t make the first news cycle, so true, so true.
I’ll save the uglier expletives for a fictional character who now wears a mask most similar to the face of the present Minister of the Interior.
Allez. Monday. Pack a lunch. Get organized and so on. I’m told the contract insuring I’ll get paid “is just a matter of time”. C’est la France. J’y habite.