Sequester and other baloney

Here we go again. After the abominable Fiskal Kliff, its equally ugly cousin, the Sequester, is rearing its ugly head!
The American people are sick and tired of this charade!

First of all, what does Sequester exactly mean?
It has its origin in the Old French “séquestrer”, meaning “to keep someone locked up, illegally or by force.”
In English legalese it translates as: “Take legal possession of assets until a debt has been paid or other claims have been met.”

Regardless of its exact meaning, the American people are one more time taken hostage by a bunch of political “jihadists”. Just like Moslem terrorists, they’d rather blow themselves up rather than comprise with the “enemy”. Victory or death, that is our congressmen’s patriotic motto.

And just as with the Kliff, the puppets strings of this charade are pulled by wealthy (usually invisible) individuals who control the purses of political parties.
In the streets they would be called Wise Guys; in politics they are known as “grandees” or PAC (Political Action Committee) benefactors.
If you don’t play ball with us, they tell to their minions, we will destroy your political career and you will have to give up golf, health club membership (gasp) and do manual labor (double gasp) to feed your family.

And if you don’t know what I am talking about, start watching “House of cards”. A fictional but eye-opening television series that is shedding some light on the mechanics of American politics.

The wealthy are hell-bent on keeping all of their wealth and advantages, and they don’t give a hoot about Sequester. They don’t have to. As usual if the Sequester is implemented it is the underprivileged that will suffer the most.

This situation reminds me of 18th century France.
Despite an alarming financial mess, the Nobility and the Clergy adamantly refused to pay taxes or give up any of their privileges.
Their blind obstinacy triggered the French Revolution of 1789, and most of these “refuseniks” ended up with their head in a basket or decorating the end of a pike.

The latest polls indicate that the American public is fed up with a squabbling do-nothing Congress and is ready to go to the barricades and erect guillotine platforms.
Is Congress listening? Some congressmen are, but are afraid to break ranks with their benefactors. Political animals as you know, are not especially noted for their courage.

Will it take another Chernobyl to wake them up? I hope not.

So, who is to blame for this endless mess?
Not a very difficult question. Just follow the money.
Find out who is subsidizing the extremists. Expose these Godfathers and shame them out of politics. Send them to Russia. Putin likes and will coddle these moneyed guys.

And get rid of “pork” (government funds, appointments, or benefits dispensed or legislated by politicians to gain favor with their constituents) and outrageous subsidies granted to wealthy farmers and oil companies, to name just a few.

Last but least, fix the scandalous status of Healthcare in America. Read Time Magazine’s special report of March 4, 2013. It will make you sick, and you will have to pay a pound of flesh to get any attention.

Those are the few things I wish for, but I am not holding my breath.

Alain

Writing addiction

An addict is an enthusiastic devotee of a specific activity.
It is a person who will feel distressed if he/she cannot indulge regularly in some kind of guilty pleasure.

My own pleasure is writing, putting on paper what is prancing in my mind. This affliction was dormant for many years, but it resurfaced recently with a vengeance. I now need my daily fix of creative adrenaline.
If I am prevented from writing, I can become anxious and irrational. Just like a chocoholic deprived of his daily morsel of chocolate.

Some addictions are hazardous, but some can also be therapeutic.
I find my own obsession stimulating.
It compels me to deal with a variety of subjects and articulate opinions that some can find uncomfortable and prefer to avoid.

Writing is a mental gymnastic similar to running imaginary laps.
It can be tiring, but just like any physical activity, it helps relieving stress and has been known to induce a mild euphoria.

I like to write in English but also in French, my mother tongue.

I have come to believe that my brain is divided in two distinct hemispheres: the French occupied zone and the American one.
They are often conflicted and separated by barbed wires. You can get from one zone to the other through checkpoint Charlie.

When you start writing about a particular subject, it is imperative to quickly corral as many galloping thoughts as possible. So I usually jot down everything that goes through my mind without any particular order. Later on, I will discard many of these ideas.
Sometimes I also wake up in the middle of the night and hurry to my computer to write down a sentence or an idea that popped up in my brain during my slumber.

The first draft of any piece is always disorganized and chaotic.
You need to read, re-read and modify many sentences before it feels right.
Writing is a little bit like kneading dough! It is sensual and tiring at the same time; the material at hand needs to be pummeled more than once for the right consistency.

After the first kneading it is best to go to sleep and give the dough a rest.
In the morning it will be massaged again for good measure.

After the final draft is completed, comes the polishing.
Like a goldsmith I go over every sentence a few more times to give it some extra shine.

And finally, to make my little piece more palatable I try to sprinkle it with a dash of humor.

For some, this might sound like a lot of work, but for the divinely obsessed, it is a pleasurable labor of love.

Try it sometimes, you will like it!

Alain

 

Israeli pétanque

Not too long ago, out of the blue, a totally unexpected e-mail fluttered into my mailbox.
It was from a French-speaking Israeli who, wonder of wonders, happens to read my column.
(As you can see, my fame is now worldwide. Even camels know my name.)

This gentleman lives in a kibbutz, in the Negev desert.
There, besides herding sheep and cultivating the land, this fellow tells me that his “kibbutzniks” also play pétanque.
Who would have ever thought…?

I pressed my correspondent for more details and he referred me to an Israeli website.
My French and English are fairly decent, but my Hebrew is feeble (non-existent truth be told) and I found it rather difficult to navigate through the Hebrew reefs.

After making him aware of my problem, he redirected me to a YouTube video.
On this particular clip, a bunch of people is seen playing pétanque. But they are still speaking Hebrew (what did I expect?) and I still don’t understand a word of their jabbering.

After visioning additional YouTube clips though, I came to realize that pétanque is a popular game in Israel.

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I checked the Israeli Pétanque Federation website and I discovered that they have 7 clubs in the North, 6 in the Center and 4 in the South, for a total of 17.
For reference, Northern California lists only 13 clubs.
Not bad for a country that is 20 times smaller than California and has a population of about 8 million people compared to 38 million for California!

But how good are these dudes?
Could they beat any of our local teams? Let’s not be cocky. History has taught us to never underestimate a little guy (David) facing a much bigger guy (Goliath).

Wouldn’t it be interesting to invite some of their players to come to California To settle this question?

Not so long ago, a big delegation from New Zealand came here and gave us a run for our money.
Could these dudes be as good as the Kiwis?

On the other hand, we could also consider sending some our people to the Land of Milk and Honey.

This could be an idea in search of a solution…

Alain