The unbearable lightness of having

Ouch! I just walked yet on a lingering Lego bricks kindly left behind by one of my two boys as a token to their gratitude. Re-ouch! What did I trip over this time? Oh, just one of my wife's precious items from her impressive plastic bag collection (including this very special vintage edition by Tesco from 2007)...

Organised mess?

Many new parents will certainly sympathise, so yes I confess, I live in a flat that is cluttered... Books, toys, plastic and handbags, stilettos, pens and a few devices here and there (because the geek that I am does contribute to that mayhem, of course). No matter how creative you get with storage, they always seem to overflow. So the problem may not be the storage, but the content. Of course it is.

In fact, after having sold us alternatively the dreams that as the ultimate luxury was space or that some Swedish wizardry could help make more out of our jam-packed spaces, a more recent trend has emerged from the media. It is no longer about expanding or optimising micro-inches of cramped living space: it is now a matter of decluttering. If in the past, there was a relatively basic dichotomy between the have's and the have-not's, there is now amongst the upper-middle class a third category: the don't-want-to-have's. For them, it becomes a decision not to possess.

Inspired by Japanese Zen and Feng-Shui philosophies, this phenomenon is trending far and large in the press, as more and more books are released about how to tidy and clear out. You must admit this is in itself a bit schizophrenic... After all, avid fans may end up cluttering their house with books on decluttering!

Spring cleaning

Fad or trend? We are now in the very last days of Spring, and many of us have felt the almost therapeutic feeling of emptying cupboards and other hidden boxes from the junk we had been accumulating over the previous twelve months. Off with that candle holder in terracotta. To the bin the piles of Time Out magazines you have been promising your self to catch up on in order to be up to speed with what is hot... or, well, what was hot in June 2013 by the look of the cover of the edition you hold in your hand.

It feels good to reclaim some ground over the mess. It feels even better when you clear your conscious when you hand over your definitely too tight jeans to a charity on the high street. But it would be interesting to see how this trend evolves once the dust has settled. Nevertheless this phenomenon struck a cord with me (and not only because I have a profound admiration for Japan and obsessed by the necessity to bring order to chaos). It led me to another very contemporary divergence: possession versus materialism.

Is digitalisation cheating?

For years the concept of possession was necessarily associated to physical object. Wealth was measured by the ground you owned, the serfs ploughing your fields, the pile of gold you could put on the table... And then came the banks, and money got dematerialised. You had no more trinkets but access to money, an abstract concept. It was still your sweat and tears (or your servants), but it was no longer your very own treasure. There was no more attachment to the object itself, rather to its value.

Similarly, information which was once captured in pages, books and bookshelves was first digitised but still remained visible. It was on that floppy disk or in that server that was buzzing in the corner of the office. It was not looking like a good old book anymore, but it was still there. This changed with the rise of Cloud computing. With it, the virtualisation accelerates and objects further dematerialise. Like the golden nuggets an jewels which were replaced by bank statements, books, disks, CD, cassettes, external hard drives, servers... are disappearing from the local premises to see their quintessence hosted somewhere in the cloud.

Slowly the reticence of not being able to touch-to-own is fading. People are perceiving the value of virtualisation: easy and ubiquitous access; lower costs as you pay only for the storage you actually need; security of having your assets backed up in several locations... Of course there are hackers, like there were bank robbers, and there are still people who don't trust the cloud like many did not trust bankers and preferred to sleep with money under their matrass. But there are also genuine enthusiasts who are seeing in technology the opportunity to live the above-described trend to its fullest. 

Technologically-enhanced lives

I indeed recently met that technophile whose job was to educate businesses about the latest evolutions and what they entail in terms of opportunity. As a technologist, he had decided to explore how far he could go in adopting technologies which could help him get rid of the unnecessary. He got a chip inserted under the skin, a bit of code here and there, and off he went to dematerialise his home. Sensors capture his presence and switches on and off the wifi, the lights, the heating system, etc. automatically based on agreed gestures, rules and orders passed through his phone. The keys to his flat were rapidly gone too, as his unique identifier emitted by his chip could open the door lock through NFC. Whilst many of us switch between different screens, he opted to retain only one, acknowledging that smartphones nowadays are sufficiently powerful to be a TV, a PC, a watch and even a phone. Why having a fridge if you could get his daily food intake delivered fresh to his door, prepared to meet his dietary requirements? One by one, he went through his inventory and tried to get rid of what was not really needed. He wanted to go back to the basics... Connected basics. 

This leads to some interesting points of reflection: the digitalisation of the world implies the rise of a new paradigm where you can own without possessing. You still own information, tunes, photos... but they do not materially exist any more. This means that the renunciation to physical ownership does not necessarily jeopardise the codes of our Western societies. Pushed to the extreme, wealth could materialise in absence of physical possession whilst the poorest would be the ones anchored in a material world, unable to digitised... Internet behind a social walled garden, so to speak.

In that hypothetical, yet plausible world, Maslow's pyramid of needs may see "wifi access" being added to its lower, more basic needs. This is one of the scenarios that the Singularity University explores during their curriculum: "how to apply exponential technologies to address humanity’s grand challenges" with a democratised access to the internet as a prerequisite to avoid a new social rupture between the connected and the disconnected. This is also why companies like Google are exploring ways to give access to the internet in creative ways like the Loon project (and not to expand the reach of their advertising audience of course).

Tidying my thoughts

Personally, I am enthused by what new technologies can offer, and as a humanist, I believe in our ability to keep the potential demons at bay. Without going to the extreme of my technologist, I am slowly decluttering my flat, saving one foot nail at a time my physical integrity, my sanity, and hopefully a tiny bit of the planet by not consuming beyond what I really need. I am from the Generation X, that generation who has come to the world amidst the recession after years of prosperity. Because of that, I am more than ever convinced that we are therefore a transitional breed, and probably better suited than anyone to help facilitate and educate the change without being blinded by optimism or pessimism. We are an agent of change. For the better.

The Saturday Shot #21: the gender gap

For this weekend contribution, I was inspired by the first French actor to win an Academy Award, Jean Dujardin... The reference will be lost for most non-French folks reading these lines, but before become a worldwide reference for his talent as a silent actor, Mr. Dujardin has been a daily companion to most  French households.

Jean Dujardin has indeed been co-staring a daily short TV programme called "Un gars, une fille" (A boy, a girl) which relates the daily intimacy of an average French couple. Hold on dirty minds! When I say "intimacy" and "French", I can already see sparks in your eyes. However, there is no "menage a trois" in this series. This is not a rip off of Sex and the City. The intimacy I was referring to is more about the snoring wife, the hair left in the sink, the old boy friend picture... All dealt with great apathy and humour. It was so relevant to all the couples that it was an almost immediate hit. To the point that the heroes' nicknames have become almost an ubiquitous terminology to describe happy couples. Chouchous and Loulous are to be seen at every corners snugging in the streets of Paris, Lyon, Marseille... It was so personal and intimate that the two actors pretending to be husband and wife on screen... Happened to fall in love for real and have since got married.

Because, life is like that... Unexpected. And this leads me to my concluding quote by Jim Morrisson 1943-1971):

“There are things known, and there are things unknown, And in between are doors”

Views of Chicago

Here is a short selection of the numerous pictures I shot whilst being stranded in Chicago, Illinois. Enjoy the slideshow, and feel free to comment:

More of my pictures can be seen on Flickr.


To read further (or in that instance, view further):

• Japanese pictures: a bunch of pictures from my 3-week trip across the Japanese archipelago
• Still moving, an article on photographies that can move you by being innovative (including some of my panographies)
• Found it, a note on street art including my own personal collection of street art pictures.

Faith for sale

The United States of America: home of liberalism, shopping channels, advertorials... Here everything is for sale. I was warned. And yet it struck me to see this "for sale" sign posted by this Chicago church.
In my eyes, churches are a symbol of faith, a cultural patrimony, and certainly not an asset to market. But I tried to picture the associated advert, and came up with something that could read like:

For Sale because of worshiper defection. The property offers a large cross-shape floor plan with spacious, though gregarious living accommodations. Great opportunity to elevate. Small interior swimming pool and wine cellar. Ideal for social gathering. Comes fully furnished for large receptions, though guests would need to accommodate with wooden benches. Former landLord could offer repayment through Devil Soul Bank. Visits on Sundays.

Tough to say if I would manage to sell this property... But if I were not, I could always try my luck on eBaysilica!


To read further:

• Yes I will, an article on the over-used conventions of wedding ceremonies
• Smile my brother, smile. An article on an artistic happening in Middle East

A mountain dweller in the Great Lake valley

After Seattle earlier this year, I have had the opportunity to discover another iconic American city, Chicago Illinois. This town has accompanied my childhood through my television set. Michael Jordan or Al Bundy have introduced me to the Windy City, but through their own peculiar angles. A few years later, it was my turn to walk the banks of the Lake Michigan and to discover a few more differences to share in this blog.

1. It's all about food. As you will read below Chicago boasts some iconic dishes such as deep pan pizza or hot dogs. And yet the city most interesting sandwich is not available to eat. Walking down the streets you could be amazed by the little amount of traffic for such a big conurbation. Avenues should be packed with cars and cabs, and yet I found the streets almost peaceful... Until I realised that the traffic that was not visible on the surface was happening under the upper crust of the city. In some places, you can encounter up to three levels of traffic, two of which are semi-underground. What is even more amazing is that these underground streets happen to go under the skyscrapers or even through buildings like this four-lane highway that literally goes through the former central post-office. I am calling that the urban sandwich.
2. Emasculating pizzas. Whilst writing about food, let me close the topic by sharing a painful experience... One of these nights I went out with a couple female colleagues and we landed in one of the local culinary landmarks: Giordano's. When my friends suggested to share a deep pan pizza, I hesitated but behaved... and in the end agreed (you certainly don't want to be seen as an ogre by your colleagues). We opted for what sounded at that time a very reasonable, medium-sized pizza that the three of us would share. "Easy job" my gut said, already thinking about a complementary dessert... until the bespoke pizza landed on our table. In spite of my legendary Italian cravings and the precious help of my two sidekicks, we never saw the end of the cheesy dish that was taunting us. I felt I failed my peers. This was an indent into my manhood! In my defense, who else than Chicago-based Italians call a pizza a 5cm-thick quiche comprising of 0.5cm of crust, 4cm of melted mozzarella cheese and 0.5cm of tomato sauce and other toppings? Seriously! I must confess that a few days later, I had another go at it... On my own this time. I conquered the small-sized pizza all by myself, and regained some self-esteem.
3. The magic box. In the US, everything is big. I am always amazed by the skyscrapers. After my first flight was canceled I went to our local office to work. It is located in the Aon Center, a 346m high building in the financial district (the third highest building in Chicago). One evening, as I was leaving the office I headed towards the elevators to see a guy stepping in. I rushed, but the doors closed right in front of me. I pushed frantically the button and the same lift opened... Empty. The guy before me had vanished. I suddenly remembered two things: first some elevators are super fast and second Houdini was half American. It was impossible for the lift to have gone down, unloaded its passenger, and returned to the 31st floor in a couple seconds. That left us with the second option: the lift was magic. I felt like a kid... I knew there was a trick, a hidden panel, a sliding door, something. But I could not find it. And trust me I could not refrain from knocking at the walls to see if I could crack it. The solution was revealed to me when we stopped at ground level and whilst the doors remained closed the robotic voice announced "Unloading lower deck". In this massive building, not only do you have a myriad of lifts to cater for the 83 floors, but they are also double-decked to load twice more people each time! The mystery of the magic lift was solved.
4. Bears or bulls. I am a sports-fan, but I also appreciate symbols and economics... A weird mix I would say, but which proved handy in Chicago. When looking for some entertainment I was struck by the fact that the city was home of two major franchises, the Chicago Bulls and the Chicago Bears. These two animals are also the symbols of the stock markets: the bear represents a conservative, wait-and-see trend, whilst the Bull refers to a buoyant stock frenzy. Chicago being also a reputable finance markets with its stock exchange, its mercantile exchange... I could not really fathom if the two were connected in a subtle in-joke at the sport business and the millions of dollars transacted every season. And what to think about the White Sox... Is this hope that a bright colour will encourage Santa Claus to finally drop some good players in the local baseball team stockings?

That's it for now, but there will be probably more since my flights get canceled one after the other. That will leave me a bit more time to explore in greater depth this city and its local oddities.

To Read further:

• A mountain dweller in the Lake Washington Valley. An article about Seattle.
• Live to eat or eat to live, or a couple thoughts on food and what it says about you.
• Shoot the stereotypes, a note on NBA stars and their social engagement.

A breeze of fresh air

The best run ever

I will not crack a series of bad jokes on running to the loo, sliding marks, etc. No, I am not scatological enough to clutter this page with such vocabulary. However, I am from the French Alps, and I have also visited Japan recently, as a result, I could only be seduced by these Japanese toilets...
"Regular" Japanese bogs are already over-equipped with interesting features, including well-positioned water and air jets, heated seating, onboarded music to cover up your own soundtrack and preserve your integrity... So I was just wondering if this limited edition had a few more tricks in its bag. I don't know: evergreen scents, chilled breeze to give the feeling of speed, clapping and crowd roaring to encourage your skiing performance, etc.

In fact, I am not sure to let my brain wander any further, because I am certain that it will never even come close to the reality. Japanese toilets rules, that is all.


To read further:

• Toilet centric vocabulary, on shity days and toilets of all sorts.
• Love dispenser, an article on a weird dispenser found in the toilets of a major global media company.
• Japanese pictures, a slide show of my recent trip around the Japanese islands.

Japanese pictures

As promised earlier, here are a few pictures of my journey in Japan. Clearly a different country, at every levels:

Fishy future?

Hot topic.

Obviously I am a bit early for April fools' day but nonetheless I found that this advert was a nice attempt to raise awareness about the hot topic of the moment (sorry for the pun): Global Warming.



In France on April 1st it is tradition to trick your friends by sticking paper fishes in their back without them noticing. Why? No idea, but certainly because someone walking with a fish on his or her back really looks like a fool.

Now, if we don't pay attention, with floods and melting poles, the joke will soon be on us... Fishes will stick paper men on their pal back fins.

Back to school... and to the future!

Time to go.

Some (and probably my better half in first instance) would argue that it was about time, but on Monday I will start my new job. After 6 months during which I had the chance to be able to take some time off for me and to do things that were really great like: getting married, lecturing at a university, taking photo classes, going skiing, visiting a few places and even blogging heavily.

As a result of this new agenda, I will probably reduce my PPW statistics. PPW? Post per week... I indeed realised that what was initially an hygienic hobby to empty my mind from thoughts which were keeping me awake has turned into a quite active a pastime. Overall, that are more than 150 articles which have been written for the above 10,000 visitors who have landed by more or less chance on this page. To be frank, I have never written with the intention to generate traffic, it was more a personal approach. So first I am surprised but also really enthusiatic about the interest people can find in my random thoughts. So thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed and will keep on doing so in the coming months or so.

Personal archeology.

There is something though that I find sorry about blogging is the fact that some great ideas are burried in the archives of blogs and whilst dust is settling down, these ideas are getting lost. I am the first when landing on a blog to read the only first or maybe first two pages. Let's be frank, there is little chance that I would go deeper, even on blogs that I have subscribed to.

So since I find this matter of fact damageable, here are my favourite articles written over the last two years. Some happen to be the readers' favourite, so you might have aleady bumped into them, but otherwise, the following reflect in my mind the philosophy of this humble blog:

1. Shiny happy people, or how depression seems to be as trendy as Baudelaire's spleen was
2. Oral sex with a fork: you'll never look at M&S chocolates the same way
3. End of a myth, or how British girls have lost their legendary appeal to French teenagers
4. French letters from my windmill: sexual shame across the borders
5. Don't lose your head or your temper(ature): housing non sense in the UK
6. Eat to live or live to eat, and some Brits call it food...
7. Yogurt singing, the French trick to be multilingual
8. Computer generated tourism: how film animation can help a tourism board boost his activity
9. Forbidding is forbiden, what remains from May 68 revolution
10. Urban nature or natural city, the paradox of green movement

And to wrap up eveything, two articles which will lead you to reconsider everything that you have read or watched so far on this blog, but most likely everywhere:

• Sublim Subliminal or how images can influence your thoughts
• Bad Education, the infiltration of sexual explicit content in children TV programmes

"Bonne lecture" as we say in French, and please comment on these articles, I would be delighted to hear your own thoughts!

Wealth of the world

The other night I was visiting a friend in Hampstead, and I bumped into a scene which was for me so typical of London theatre of life.

Social clash on a pavement?

Imagine you have just finished your groceries at Tesco Express in what is probably one of the poshest area of Greater London. You have kept your eyes wide-open in every aisle in case a famous footballer or a pop singer was shopping at the same time, but without success. And then after cashing out, you step out of the shop and here stand a fellow trying to sell copies of the Big Issue.

Nothing special there would you say, but what was was right in the background. Next to the newspaper boy was parked a massive Rolls-Royce with chauffeur, someone waiting in the back seat. What a visual chock for me! But apparently no one seems to either care or be surprised.

Social mix in urbanism.

But this reaction is in fact totally understandable (maybe not acceptable though). In London poverty and extreme wealth are cohabiting in every neighbourhood. When you walk in fancy places with large houses, you are never far from a social building. This leads to surrealistic situation like the one evoked above, but you can replace the RR by Ferraris, Porsches or other Aston Martins.

In France on the contrary, people of the same social background tend to agglomerate in the same places. And this is a vicious circle because since social areas lose property value and will consequently attract people who can afford it. Or in fact those cannot afford to live elsewhere.

The smell of money.

The recent events we have experienced with Les Banlieues tend to plead in favour of the UK system of social melting pot. But from a moral point of view it is disturbing, especially in the French mindset. You could argue and many will agree with you that the French approach is hypocritical as it consists in parking away the difficulties instead of handling them... But to be fair, the principle of the Banlieues were due to be short-lived. On the other hand, exposing external signs of wealth to neighbours who are, on their end, struggling is hard to swallow.

I assume that the success of such an approach relays on the perception of money in a society. In France there has always been an awkward relationship towards money. It is dubious to have money in my country, and it is often linked to negative perceptions and feelings like jealousy and envy. In a liberal country like the UK, money and success are not criticized, they are source of inspiration.

Anyhow, this is a major cultural difference and it is deeply rooted in the collective unconsciousness of each nation. This is probably why I am never at ease when I am facing such a situation... What about you?

Don't lose your head, or your temper(ature).

Home sweet Lab.

We had some friends from France at home this week-end. It was interesting to see how my fellow-citizens evolved in a British house. As a matter of fact I start to get used to my new environment and new laboratory rats were welcome. I watched them carefully. I looked at them engaging their feet in the same paths I walked through earlier, facing the same questions or astonishment... It was rejuvenating and rich in new learnings.

A window to our past.

If you are a regular reader you might think I am some kind of a window-fetishist, but trust me, I am not. You must nevertheless acknowledge that they do play an important role in our houses. And to be totally transparent... they are interesting.

For instance, British homes enjoy numerous sash windows, this typical two-panel frame that you only see on this side of the Channel. They are typical and they are practical. But it is intriguing to see how the French cope with them.

We slide them up. Close them down. And finally stare at them with dubious looks. As a Latin people we enjoy appearing at our window and look at the outside life. But amazing enough, we tend to avoid this habit in England and so were our friends this Sunday. Why? We seem not to trust the way sash windows hang on their own, waiting for someone to get his neck through to finally fall... It is probably part of our collective unconscious, subtly referring to our "glorious" past of beheaders.

Binary decision in front of a mirror.



Talking about (headless) kings... the other puzzling element of the British homes happens to locate in the Throne Room. When facing the sink to wash my hands, I feel the urgent need to curse this country. And by the blasphemy I heard through the door, my opinion is shared by some of my fellow-citizens.

Most sinks actually feature two taps: one for cold water, one for hot water. That leaves you the choice between burning your hands or freezing them... How come this country has not adopted mixing taps by now? Why cannot we enjoy mild temperatures on our skin?

The heat of love.

I know that French language and culture cultivates nuances, and I expected the Brits to do so. In a sense, their plumbing system reminds me the way Germans tackle love. And I am not referring to some debatable metaphor for pipes and holes…

When we pull out the petals of a daisy, we accompany each leaf with a litany that translates into: "she likes me, fancies me, loves me, is passionate about me, is crazy about me, she isn't, she likes me...". Hence covering the entire spectrum of love. On the other hand Germans approach love in a binary way, and sing: "Sie lieb mich, sie lieb mich nicht, sie lieb mich..." ("She loves me, she doesn't, she loves me...").

Water and love are the like... You have to choose the exact degree to fully enjoy it. Maybe this is a tip to understand why French are said to be great lovers. Using the right word, the right nuance can make your partner lose her head. And trust me no sash window is needed to achieve this.

Look at the neighbour in the window...

An open window to UK privacy.

One thing is really typical of the UK: the streets and their identical side-by-side houses. Boring redundancy or architectural perfection, I let you judge. But something puzzled me when I walked through the neighbourhoods on the search of my next flat: the large windows that let you peep into one's privacy.

My stereotype of British people was that they were very cautious about their public image, trying to hide away their feelings and intimate thoughts, and eventually release them in the very deepest secrecy of their cosy homes. However a glance at the drying panties and other tongues was enough to scramble any conviction. Where was the secrecy gone?

24/7 entertainment.

Without digging a peeping hole through the wall, you actually discover intimate information about your neighbours just by walking down the street. Everything is exposed in the lounge of these apparently harmless homes. The fine lingerie lover from house number 223. The Australian and his flagged bathing suits from house number 236. The couch potato from garden flat 68. The beer drinkers from houses 123, 124, 125, 127...

Not that I care. On the contrary, it is amusing to realise that the boring-looking clerk is not the one she pretends to be. I can even be quite funny to imagine what can be the existence of these people from which you capture a slice of life. Why this guy across the street lives 24/7 with his backpack on? Why the girl on the opposite building is posing in underwear in front of her laptop webcam every night, answering calls on her mobile every three minutes? Why this French Blog-writer keeps on looking at passers-by from his window?

Maybe it’s about time to get some curtains to my French-windows... And to go back to a "safer" Windows, one Mr. Gates sold me so expensively.