MoneyMoney is a funny thing.
It doesn’t smell good, it doesn’t taste good and it is dirty; but everybody is madly in love with it and some people will not hesitate to kill for it.

But once they get it, they are not really sure what to do with it.
For money, if not properly nurtured will evaporate like water on a hot rock.
In order to bear fruits, money needs to be transplanted into a fertile environment and carefully looked after.

And for this, you need a specialist because the average Joe knows absolutely nothing about growing this kind of potatoes.
Invest in stocks, invest in bonds your friends will tell you… but what kinds of animals are those, and how reliable are they?
The answer: they are totally unreliable!
These animals have a mind of their own and like a skittish herd of buffaloes they can panic, stampede and fall off a cliff.

The money agribusiness has become (on purpose I believe) extremely complicated and very few people (even bankers) understand fully how it works.
The average guy therefore, if he comes across some serious money, has no choice but to put himself in the hands of a financial handler… and buy a prayer rug.
Because there are no guarantees says the moneyman. You can make money, but you can also lose your shirt.
Always nice to hear…

You have to trust the moneyman, even when knowing very little about him.
It is almost like giving your savings to a guy you met in a strip joint.

Once the financial institution has swallowed and digested your hard-earned moola, you receive monthly statements.
They are very long, very detailed and almost totally incomprehensible.
It is difficult to figure out if you are making or if you are losing money, because things are never what they seem.
You can have money on paper but if you try to cash it, things might be different.
Don’t ask me why.

Money is like manure; you need to spread it around or it smells. J. Paul Getty

I didn’t want my bedroom to stink so I took my money from under my mattress and wheeled it to a bank.
I have a “diversified” (sounds reassuring) portfolio to prevent catastrophes, but once in a while, after perusing a statement I wonder if my ship’s watertight compartments are tight enough and if there are enough life jackets aboard to accommodate all the passengers.

The captain said so, but what else would he say?


The phone whisperer

A few days ago I experienced the heavenly pleasure of spending some time in the close vicinity of a phone whisperer.
Sitting barely three feet away, I could not even catch three words of his conversation, and not for lack of trying.

And yes, the whisperer was a man!
Not one of this macho dude who has to trumpet his accomplishments to the world… no, a delightfully quiet man with a low, bedroom voice.
If I had not sworn allegiance to the opposite sex a long time ago, I could have easily fallen in love with this gentleman.
And I don’t use the term “gentleman” lightly, because a man speaking so considerately has to be a gentleman… or a hit man.

Annoying woman in a cafe on her cell phoneNowadays, you cannot avoid coming in close contact with people seemingly talking to themselves. They walk and they talk. They sit and they talk. They sleep and they talk. They are so busy talking that they totally lost notion of space and time.
No need for truth serum anymore. Give an addict a cell phone and he’ll spill the beans instantly.

And don’t get me started with women… They can be as loud (if not more) than men.
And when given a phone, they instantly shatter the fairytale image that we men have of them. They are not the quiet demure little things that we thought they were; they are Cell Women, “give me no lip” Amazons.

I don’t mind people constantly pleasuring themselves with their toy, but they should have the decency to do it discreetly. If they had any breeding at all they would go the bathroom or the macadam to indulge themselves.

My mother in Paris waited a very long time to get a phone line.
When she finally got it, she became so excited that she could not help but shout whenever calling me in California.
She probably figured that she had to speak loudly to be heard from somebody residing six thousand miles away.

Fifty years later, some people still seem to think that they need to shout to be heard.
Or maybe it has to with some kind of exhibitionism… Look at me, I have a cell phone…

Ladies and gentlemen, I beg you, when in a public place refrain from using your goddamn contraption. If you absolutely must, step outside to avoid being a public nuisance and incur the well-deserved (and sometimes violent) wrath of everybody around you.

Dominus vobiscum!


La mauvaise réputation

 ♫ Au village, sans prétention,
J’ai mauvaise réputation… ♫

BrassensAh ce bon vieux Georges… quand il était jeune, il avait lui aussi une mauvaise réputation. Et c’est une des raisons pour laquelle il dut quitter Sète, sa ville natale.

La réputation… Qu’est-ce que c’est au fait ?
C’est l’opinion favorable ou défavorable que l’on se fait de quelqu’un ou de quelque chose. La réputation c’est le fait d’être connu pour quelque chose, de bon ou de mauvais.
Et cette réputation (a tort ou a raison) nous suit et nous précède où que nous allions.

Bohémiens, Roms, Gitans, Tsiganes, Sarrazins, Sintis, Manouches, ces gens-là ont mauvaise réputation.
On les dit voleurs et sans scrupules. Où qu’ils aillent, on les regarde avec suspicion, avec haine même.

Mais il y a aussi d’autres communautés qui ont mauvaise réputation et qui font souvent la une des journaux.
L’on se défie d’eux. On les évite. On n’en veut pas dans son voisinage.

Il y a des groupes qui ont une réputation d’inadaptés, de fanatiques, de terroristes…D’autres sont vus comme paresseux, voyous, distributeurs de drogue…
Et les statistiques démontrent que la majorité des délits sont commis par un pourcentage disproportionné de personnes issues de ces communautés.
Ces gens-là font peur…

On ne peut évidemment pas mettre tout le monde dans le même panier, mais quand des individus appartenant à une certaine ethnie commettent des crimes a répétition, cela contribue à renforcer leur mauvaise réputation.
Et cette mauvaise réputation s’étend alors à ceux de leurs congénères qui sont respectueux des lois.

Cela veut-il dire que si l’on est suspicieux d’une certaine ethnie on est raciste ?
Oui et non.
Nous éprouvons une certaine aversion pour quelqu’un non pas parce qu’il est noir ou vert, mais par ce qu’il représente. Par l’image, l’auréole maléfique qui l’enveloppe.

Tous les serpents ne sont pas venimeux, mais ne sachant pas qui est quoi, on les craint tous et on les évite.

Si l’on se détourne des communautés ayant mauvaise réputation, est-on pour cela xénophobe ou raciste?
Si oui, et bien je suis raciste.


Et les dernières nouvelles de Trappes, dans les Yvelines ne font rien pour améliorer la perception du grand public a cet égard.