On your marks...
The 31st Olympiads have started, and I am ecstatic. I indeed have a personal relationship with this global event since I was born in an Olympian city, Grenoble, just like my kids who saw the light in London. I have particularly fond memories of London 2012, and wish to my Carioca friends to experience the same exhilarations we had back then.
The Olympics are a fantastic platform to see human nature at its best: physical exploits, determination, team work, perfection, apolitical statements and some more loaded, the highest degrees of emotions like happiness and despair, intertwined and simultaneous. You simply cannot remain unmoved by this competition. When tears blend with sweat. Why cries of joy cohabit with cries of distress. When pain is the path to pleasure.
However something which gives me even more goose bump is what Paralympians achieve. It is close to superhuman. At least that is what Channel 4, the Paralympic official broadcaster, claims:
Enabling abilities
It is incredible what these so-called "disabled" athletes are actually able to achieve. In many ways they are more capable than many of us. Actually, Oscar Pistorius did compete in the London 400m race against "able" athletes...
His participation raised some questions at the time, because observers wondered if his handicap was an unfair advantage over the other competitors. Actually, to be precise the debate was not exactly on the handicap itself, but rather on the technology used to address it: the blades. Would the blades provide extra spring and pace that human legs would not be able to provide?
More interestingly, it raised an ethical debate which tells a lot about human nature: it was less about diversity and inclusion of disable athletes amongst able competitors, but would Pistorius' participation set a precedent and open the door to technology-enhanced bodies? After all, if some are ready to inject some illegal chemical in their metabolism to enhance their performances, would some be ready to deliberately alter their body to integrate some technology that would multiply their capabilities? What is disability? Could some weirdoes mutilate themselves to compete? Scary, but plausible.
Technology opening doors.
Debate aside, I am amazed by how some technologies are enabling people to live up to the Olympic motto: faster, higher, stronger. More capable in other words. I find this exciting, don't you? And not just in sport... I already wrote about how technology helps with the virtualisation and dematerialisation of our lives. But technology is capable of such grand things, like allowing deaf people to hear or colour blind people to discover the chromatic gamut.
Let me introduce you to Neil Harbisson, a Catalan-raised but British-born artist and cyborg activist who has made the headlines for having an antenna implanted in his skull and for being officially recognised as a cyborg by a government. The antenna allows him to perceive visible and invisible colours such as infrareds and ultraviolets via sound waves. In other words, he does not see colours... He hears them. Each colour is associated to a sound, and with each sounds comes associated emotions.
What I like about this last example is that it redefines entirely the notion of ability. Technically, Neil is not able to see colours, but he has invented a new way to perceive them and in fact this new ability is richer than the classical sight because it spans beyond the human visible spectrum. Just like these athletes are not just emulating able athletes, they are defining new performances in totally new categories. They are shifting the battle ground to places where they are not disable... To places where they thrive. For that and for everything they do, they have my unconditional respect and admiration.
Showing posts with label society. Show all posts
Showing posts with label society. Show all posts
7.8.16
12.6.15
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.
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.
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.
9.6.14
The Franco-British paradox
Edit: a few more additions on 9/06/14
The lists.
You have certainly come across some lists that define whether you are or not a Londoner, a Parisian, a Russian... I have even published one here a year ago. And yet, although these lists rely on facts and clichés I totally buy into, I have also realised that after two years in the UK, I had not completely blended in. Not yet. And in fact, I am still enjoying my differences and am even building upon it.
That led me to think about what we call in French "Les combles" of a non-English in the UK. This is hard to translate a concept, but it would be the "heights" if my faithful dictionary is accurate. A "comble" is something pushed to the absurd limit, something over the top... The following is a list, which will certainly expand thanks to your comments and suggestion, of the heights of being a non-assimilated alien in the UK. Some are a bit far-fetched, yet you will pardon your humble servant.
Statement or reality.
So as a matter of fact, you indeed know that you are not assimilated in the UK when:
The lists.
You have certainly come across some lists that define whether you are or not a Londoner, a Parisian, a Russian... I have even published one here a year ago. And yet, although these lists rely on facts and clichés I totally buy into, I have also realised that after two years in the UK, I had not completely blended in. Not yet. And in fact, I am still enjoying my differences and am even building upon it.
That led me to think about what we call in French "Les combles" of a non-English in the UK. This is hard to translate a concept, but it would be the "heights" if my faithful dictionary is accurate. A "comble" is something pushed to the absurd limit, something over the top... The following is a list, which will certainly expand thanks to your comments and suggestion, of the heights of being a non-assimilated alien in the UK. Some are a bit far-fetched, yet you will pardon your humble servant.
Statement or reality.
So as a matter of fact, you indeed know that you are not assimilated in the UK when:
- You wear flip-flops in Wellington
- You kick a football in Rugby
- You take a shower in Bath
- You spread mustard in Worchester
- You look for ancient ruins in NewCastle
- You get a speeding ticket in Slough
- You finish a book in Reading
- You shot a revolver in Winchester
- You go bankrupt in Sale
- You remain a virgin in Middlesex
- You keep on eating chips in Dumfries
- You play snooker in Poole
- You sell Biafine in Blackburn
- You breed pitbulls in Yorkshire
- You grow potates in Leek
- You get nailed in Hammersmith
- You lay back in Hastings (courtesy of Mel Cason)
- You get screwed in Cork (sorry, not in the UK, but could not skip that one)
- You are constipated in Waterloo
- You are seedless in Braintree
- You dismount in Ryde
- You refuse to march in Marlow
- You are a headstone cutter in Livingston
- You are immaculate in Staines
- You never excel in Chartwell (special tribute to Microsoft-fans)
- You are a veggan in Egham
- You don't do a great job in Pipewell (bit kinky this one, and need to speak French to get it)
- You are a clueless inspector in Leeds
- You are trading bleech in Blackpool
- You are running in Woking
- You get stuck in Stape
- You get a mute audience in Acklam
- You own a dermatological firm in Hitchin
- You fly the gay pride flag in Grays
- You are hacker in IPswich (sorry for the geekery)
- You forget your teddy in Sheringham
- You are feeding the ducks in Swanage
13.7.12
The tax prayer
Tax is exactly that: it is a necessary evil. Don't get me wrong, I am not getting into the neo-liberal debate of whether or not we are paying too much tax. In fact, I am rather fine with the concept of paying a tax, as long as it is used properly and without wastage. No my main concern about tax is the fact that it is also a tax on your time.
The French case epitomise what I am complaining about. In the Hexagon the fiscal system works a posteriori when it comes to income tax. This means that the tax payer needs to complete a fiscal year which, alleluia, is also the calendar year, and then declare the amount of revenue that was earned during the twelve months. And as usual when it comes to administrative tasks in France, you can be sure that there is at least a dozen forms to fill, in three different leaflets... Fortunately with the digital era this paperwork becomes binary work, but that does not prevent us from having those lovely nerve-breaking nights where you cover your sitting room in folders, receipts, letters from so or so, in order to fill the right box with the right amount, and to document obviously any entry.
I have not lived in the US (yet), so I cannot testify if that is better or worse there, although my colleagues from across the pond would be rolling their eyes in despair in light of my doubt. The one thing that I can comment on is that the British system is a lot easier, and less cumbersome... Well so I thought.
Bright side of life
The income tax in the UK is a lot more straight forward for employees. As a matter of fact you are paying your toll straight from your salary, immediately before it lands on your bank account. Your accounting department is in charge of paying Her Majesty Revenue & Customs. This means that the money you receive is net, and really represents the money you can play with... Unlike in France where you theoretically need to save to be able pay your due once the fiscal year has closed. I say theoretically as how many of us had the sudden epiphany in April to realise: "sh#t, I need to pay my tax... but also my May holidays. Too bad, but I really need some sun. Come and get me, I am in sunny Spain, you grey suit!" (OK, the runaway never last long, but always worth the try, no?).
But back to the UK. When I was briefly explained how tax was working here 6 years ago, I welcome the time-tax relief and started to enjoy the paperwork-free world of tax paying in my host nation. After all, no declaration, no paperwork, no last minute rambling, no worries... Except, that like any rules there are exceptions, and of course you tend not to pay attention to these footnotes. You prefer to look at the bright side of life, tadam tadam tadamtadamtadam...
So when you receive a first letter from the HM R&C, you think this is a mistake after all I have already paid my tax. Tadam tadam tadamtadamtadam... When you receive the second letter from HM R&C, you start to think that you should advise them to improve their database management. Tadam tadam tadamtadamtadam... And then twelve month later, when it is time to start to close the following fiscal year, the postman drops you another type of letter. This ones does not make you shrug, it makes you shiver... What the fuck? According to the paper in front of you, you learn that since you have not declared your revenue a year before, you are now liable to a fine and a daily penalty until you proceed. Suddenly, the music in your head changes. You start hearing the noise of the cash register. Tching, tching, tching...
A hint of French touch after all.
OK, that must be a mistake. A quick call to the help line reveals that I should have read the footnote on the 2345 pages of the HM R&C website. Employees do not have to declare individually their income, unless... unless you are also self-employed. Nope. Unless you are a director... Still nope. Unless you earn more than a certain amount of money. Surely I am nowhere that salary. Money is not my driver in life. As long as I have enough not to think about it too much, I am happy, so I am really not on top of these things. But as far as I remembered the last time I checked I was nowhere near that threshold.
After a few days of investigation - tching, tching, tching -, I realise that due to some strange star alignments in the cosmos, including apparently my lucky star, I have received some exceptional bonuses and benefits that just brought me over that threshold. But literally just over, by a dozen pounds... OK, let's follow the instructions then and let's get the record straight.
According to the website and the person from the call centre, the best practise is to pay your fine first, and then challenge it if you feel it is not relevant, and more importantly to declare your revenue as soon as possible. Tching, tching, tching. The "fastest" way is to do it online. If there is one thing I love about the web nowadays, it is its immediacy, but I suddenly realised that French engineers may have helped set up the web process as, in a nutshell, here are the steps I went through.
Since I never had to engage directly with HM R&C I needed to create my online account. After filling a online form, I was informed that a unique identifier would be sent to me, by post, to complete the profile creation... Tching, tching, tching. A week and half later (yes, Royal Mail is not the fastest), I received a cryptic code which was supposed to help me get closer to resolution. Yes! It worked: I had an online profile. What next? Where can I tell you how much I earned, happily pay my due, and stop that "tching, tching, tching..." from freaking me out. The answer: I needed to apply for the service. And guess what? It required another unique identifier, which also could only be delivered by post. Tching, tching, tching. I really thought at that point of time that I was in an official scam: the British government, to fill its bank accounts, was putting as many hurdles in front of me to ensure that my check to their services was the largest possible... Machiavellian, evilly thought through, but without a doubt efficient. No wonder the finance minister is named the Chancellor of the Exchequer!
A Swiss influence?
I finally got that code, rushed to my computer, validated my service request, entered the various information in the relevant boxes, press submit... And collected my jaw which had dropped on the table. On the screen in front of me the website announced me that I was not owing anything to the Queen, but that on the contrary HM R&C was to send me a check as I would have paid too much... Calling that an anticlimax! In essence I had to be fined and charged to receive some money back... British humour I supposed.
I certainly could not close that case here. So I decided to assert my French origins, and pulled out one of my administrative claim letter templates. We receive them at birth in France, as they prove so helpful... Just need to input the name of the administration you have grievance towards, and here you go! Anyway, having explained my case, my diligent treatment of the situation and how despite the traps and tricks of the system, I managed to get as fast as I could to the end of the fiscal maze... I got heard. The fine was reimbursed, and no daily charge was billed to me. Katching! After all, maybe the Monthy Python were right, there is a silver lining in every cloud.
Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best
And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...
Tadam tadam tadamtadamtadam...
10.3.12
The Saturday Shot #21: the gender gap
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”
13.8.11
The Saturday Shot #19: gnomes and gravels
For this weekend contribution, it was hard to avoid making any reference to this week's events in the street of London. I felt thus this picture was perfect: a bunch of hooded gnomes on gravels...
A few times in the past I mentioned that the UK was more and more looking like France, with its too numerous French residents (London is the 7th French city in the world), its growing number of public transportation strikes, its sporting failures... And the riots of last few days can only confirm this trend.
In an earlier article, written on the back of Justice's video clip "Stress", I mentioned the situation in the Parisian suburbs and it is chilling to see the similarity with the current situation in Great Britain. A few differences though: when such events occur on the other side of Channel, the French thugs rampage their own neighborhood instead of moving to the commercial areas which is something that has always puzzled me, especially when they pretend to do that to demonstrate against the disastrous conditions in which they live (and don't get me wrong, they do). Motivations are similar but there are cultural/ethnic underlying drivers to their acts, whilst in the UK this driver is social class...
Different name, different context, different causes yet same symptoms. The youngsters aspire to be more than they can expect to be and see their social background as an inhibitor. Shortcuts to success is seen as a social lift, irrespective of their legal aspects.
This reminded me of a tune by French rap band, IAM. It is called Petit Frere (Little Brother). The original text can be read here, but I loosely attempted to translate an excerpt from this song:
(...)
Journalists set trends. Violence at school existed already
Back in my time: rackets, brawls, rampage,
A bat swinging in the windshield of the teacher car
A cutter kicks in and here is a scar
But covering them in the every evening news makes it banal
It is printed in the retina as normal
And if little brother wants to be talked about
He reiterates what he saw in the 9 o'clock news
Shit, in 1980's these were just acts,
But these journalists have turned them into matter of facts
And I don't think that Little Brother is worse than before
Just overexposed to advertising, to violent chore
For adults, kids are the best lemon
The target number 1, a field for consumer goods
And to be sure that he gets some
Little Brother hangs around with a gun by his side
We know who you are when we see what you own
Little Brother knows that and keeps it in mind
Money would open doors to a shiny blue sky
As easily as his screwdriver opens cars.
High standing is all he aspires to
It simply feels better when you wear Giorgio Armani
Concerned about the others' glances
In spite of his young age, Little Brother smokes to look older
(...)
8.3.11
UK, GB, EN and other acronyms for dummies
Geography class.
This animation is really well-done to explain the differences between the concepts of United Kingdom, Great Britain, England and all the other subtlities that make leaving in this part of the world a political nightmare if you want to be accurate...
It should help shade some light on doubts shared by many of my French fellow-citizens living on the British Island of Great Britain, most likely in London, the England and United Kingdom capital. Did I lose you?
Have a go at it, it will soon be crystal clear:
Have a read at Grey's Blog if you want to look at the infographic version of this animation.
This animation is really well-done to explain the differences between the concepts of United Kingdom, Great Britain, England and all the other subtlities that make leaving in this part of the world a political nightmare if you want to be accurate...
It should help shade some light on doubts shared by many of my French fellow-citizens living on the British Island of Great Britain, most likely in London, the England and United Kingdom capital. Did I lose you?
Have a go at it, it will soon be crystal clear:
Have a read at Grey's Blog if you want to look at the infographic version of this animation.
16.1.11
Anthology of a teenager sex life
Warning: this blog post should be rated PG18... Look away if you are underage!
OK, now that I have your attention, you dirty little minds, I wanted to confess something. Having been caught in some aerial mayhem in the recent months (in fact I realised that in 2010 I have been stranded 13 days due to flight cancellations, snow storms and other volcanic ashes!), I have also been forced to deal with the in-flight entertainment and its depleting content quality. But, hey, when you are stuck in a plane for way too long, you have an alibi to catch up on the latest romantic comedies and other so-called blockbusters: there is not much else to do... especially if you have been graciously flanked with some over-weighted fellow travelers who block your escape route.
Teenagers' underbelly
Having rapidly exhausted the movies I really wanted to watch, and not being a great fan of the Turkish film scene in original version and without subtitles, I had to make a concession: watching one (or two) of the latest features for teenagers. I am not talking about sanitised movies like Anna Montana or the High School Musical series, no, I am referencing to the underbelly catalogue, films a la American Pie for instance.
The revelation of these screening was a bit weird... and you will certainly concur that I must be a crooked mind myself to watch such a movie and draw cultural/societal conclusions. These films however remain in my eyes a magnifying glass of cultural trends happening on the other side of the pond. And one thing that struck me was the vulgarisation of some sexual practices.
"voulez-vous coucher avec moi?"
I will not enter in the discussion around pre-marriage lust, you can make your own decisions. What I would like to call out are cultural discrepancies between Western societies around oral sex.
It seems that girls (and boys) on the west side of the Atlantic are more likely to perform such stunts rather than having regular intercourse. It seems less committal. I let you digest that first fact and reflect on the fact that for some societies ingurgitating something is absorbing its essence, its soul, its power... Think a moment of Toreros and the post corrida feast of bull ears and tail, or even cannibals.
Putting something in your mouth does not seem to be that trivial a practice for some. And so, let's put this into the perspective of a European culture. Let's say the French (as I can make generalisation about my own culture, without being taxed of racism). If you agree on today's legend about French girls, it would seem that they are quite easy to get laid.
Let me first demystify that cliche largely echoed in the above-mentioned films... Twenty years or so struggling with female gender allow me to clearly confirm: this IS a legend. Nevertheless, assuming that this myth was somehow based on some statistical truth (and that I must have been exposed to the placebo group when I was young), it appears that girls in France would be more prone to open their legs than their mouth.
Taste the difference.
The dichotomy between both countries seems to be articulated around, on the one hand, fear of pregnancy/lack of understanding or rejection of contraception, and on the other hand, a different conception of intimacy.
Note for the male teenagers who discarded my introductory warning and read all the way to this sentence: if you were planning a trip to France to "enlarge your horizon" and practice my mother tongue, it seems that you may have to get into a serious relationship before you can get a taste of home from a local. Yet I could understand your misunderstandings, after all, the inventors of French Kiss should be skilled at this tongue twisting oral drill. To boot aren't the German referring to oral sex as "Franzosisch" (i.e. French sex).
Too bad, guys, France is also the country of romance and seduction... You will still learn a lot from that trip. Unless you end up in the placebo group.
To read further:
OK, now that I have your attention, you dirty little minds, I wanted to confess something. Having been caught in some aerial mayhem in the recent months (in fact I realised that in 2010 I have been stranded 13 days due to flight cancellations, snow storms and other volcanic ashes!), I have also been forced to deal with the in-flight entertainment and its depleting content quality. But, hey, when you are stuck in a plane for way too long, you have an alibi to catch up on the latest romantic comedies and other so-called blockbusters: there is not much else to do... especially if you have been graciously flanked with some over-weighted fellow travelers who block your escape route.
Teenagers' underbelly
Having rapidly exhausted the movies I really wanted to watch, and not being a great fan of the Turkish film scene in original version and without subtitles, I had to make a concession: watching one (or two) of the latest features for teenagers. I am not talking about sanitised movies like Anna Montana or the High School Musical series, no, I am referencing to the underbelly catalogue, films a la American Pie for instance.
The revelation of these screening was a bit weird... and you will certainly concur that I must be a crooked mind myself to watch such a movie and draw cultural/societal conclusions. These films however remain in my eyes a magnifying glass of cultural trends happening on the other side of the pond. And one thing that struck me was the vulgarisation of some sexual practices.
"voulez-vous coucher avec moi?"
I will not enter in the discussion around pre-marriage lust, you can make your own decisions. What I would like to call out are cultural discrepancies between Western societies around oral sex.
It seems that girls (and boys) on the west side of the Atlantic are more likely to perform such stunts rather than having regular intercourse. It seems less committal. I let you digest that first fact and reflect on the fact that for some societies ingurgitating something is absorbing its essence, its soul, its power... Think a moment of Toreros and the post corrida feast of bull ears and tail, or even cannibals.
Putting something in your mouth does not seem to be that trivial a practice for some. And so, let's put this into the perspective of a European culture. Let's say the French (as I can make generalisation about my own culture, without being taxed of racism). If you agree on today's legend about French girls, it would seem that they are quite easy to get laid.
Let me first demystify that cliche largely echoed in the above-mentioned films... Twenty years or so struggling with female gender allow me to clearly confirm: this IS a legend. Nevertheless, assuming that this myth was somehow based on some statistical truth (and that I must have been exposed to the placebo group when I was young), it appears that girls in France would be more prone to open their legs than their mouth.
Taste the difference.
The dichotomy between both countries seems to be articulated around, on the one hand, fear of pregnancy/lack of understanding or rejection of contraception, and on the other hand, a different conception of intimacy.
Note for the male teenagers who discarded my introductory warning and read all the way to this sentence: if you were planning a trip to France to "enlarge your horizon" and practice my mother tongue, it seems that you may have to get into a serious relationship before you can get a taste of home from a local. Yet I could understand your misunderstandings, after all, the inventors of French Kiss should be skilled at this tongue twisting oral drill. To boot aren't the German referring to oral sex as "Franzosisch" (i.e. French sex).
Too bad, guys, France is also the country of romance and seduction... You will still learn a lot from that trip. Unless you end up in the placebo group.
To read further:
- The end of a myth, or how the Little English girls lost their European sex appeal;
- The cost of loving, an article on the hidden truth behind weddings;
- Watch you moves, or what your gesture can tell in a different culture
28.8.10
The Saturday Shot #1: scotts in the park
Inspired by fellow blogger Fabienne, I have decided to publish every Saturday a new picture...
This one was shot today, Saturday, in Hyde Park as a Scottish band was entertaining the crowd of passers-by, teaching them how to move on the sound of "Up-North" music.
This one was shot today, Saturday, in Hyde Park as a Scottish band was entertaining the crowd of passers-by, teaching them how to move on the sound of "Up-North" music.
15.8.10
I want to marry you, Bitch
Walking around Notting Hill and Maida Vale, we bumped into this shop... Bemused by the sign, I was wondering who one earth would buy some bride cakes from such a bakery. Then I realised that the owners must have identified a brilliant market niche: the ultimate, and delicious way to tell the groom that his future wife is a bitch!(NB: Les Couilles du Chien translates into The Dog's balls/testicles)
To read further:
- Good signs, an article on how signs in a street reveal your very own culture
- Forbidding is forbidden, or how a sign brings us back to May 68 and its street philosophers.
29.7.10
Never stopping evolution
And... Action.
I have already shared on this blog a few examples of stop-motion, a creative concept which consists in recreating movement by a succession of still images.
The following short video brings it another level. This time, the pictures are not capturing an object which would be moved a frame at a time by a dilligent director. Way too easy.
No, this time, every frame is a different graffiti. A cartoon where pages are swapped for city walls, buildings, streets, etc. And what a story line: the theory of evolution...
"Big Bang, Big Boom" is in my eyes nothing but a heroic creation by graphic designer BLU and a bunch of graffiti artists from Italy. It has been produced over the course of a year and you can easily understand why. One frame at a time, ca. 24 frames per second (probably less in that case since stop motion does not replicate real film fluidity), 9'55'' in total... That is a lot of pictures and a lot of spraying.
Only one word come to my mind: bravo.
To read further:
I have already shared on this blog a few examples of stop-motion, a creative concept which consists in recreating movement by a succession of still images.
The following short video brings it another level. This time, the pictures are not capturing an object which would be moved a frame at a time by a dilligent director. Way too easy.
No, this time, every frame is a different graffiti. A cartoon where pages are swapped for city walls, buildings, streets, etc. And what a story line: the theory of evolution...
"Big Bang, Big Boom" is in my eyes nothing but a heroic creation by graphic designer BLU and a bunch of graffiti artists from Italy. It has been produced over the course of a year and you can easily understand why. One frame at a time, ca. 24 frames per second (probably less in that case since stop motion does not replicate real film fluidity), 9'55'' in total... That is a lot of pictures and a lot of spraying.
Only one word come to my mind: bravo.
To read further:
- Bunn-invasion, an article on the usage of stop motion and street art.
- Around the World in 80 seconds, or how to travel through the lens of a camera
- Still moving, creative things done with a still camera
4.5.10
British food for thoughts
I have already touched base a few times on this series of funny, caustic videos from David Mitchell, the British standup comedian who drops some acid on the weird traits of Britishness... This one is about one of my favourite topics: food. So enjoy.
To read further:
To read further:
- Victim of your origins, a rant at old people and the tribute we pay to them
- Language on a life line, a rant at Gaelic and natural selection of languages
- Be Welsh, a rant at... the sheep loving Welsh!
25.4.10
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.
21.4.10
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:
To read further:
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:Tough to say if I would manage to sell this property... But if I were not, I could always try my luck on eBaysilica!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.
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
19.4.10
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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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?
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.
4.3.10
Child's plays do not mature well, do they?
Back to the playground.There is a jubilating pleasure about being parents... It is called "regression", or this possibility to go back in time through the alibi of your child. When our son came to birth, my wife and I looked at kiddy stuff to decorate his room and that is when we had a double-revelation: we had grown up and we had in a different culture! Jubilancy goes hands in hands with frustration.
All our referential scheme was turned upside down. The heroes of our own childhoods have long retired and they have retired under the sun, not in wet England. Nobody in this country seems to have ever heard of Barbapapa the polymorphic, eco-friendly, pink blurb or of Casimir, the orange dinosaur and master of the Children Island. Simiarly, for me, George had never been Curious... He was one of the Beatles. Peter was not blue, he was eventually Pan.
And even when we thought sharing a common hero with host nation we got fooled.
One of the UK iconic child book is indeed Where is Wally?. This series of books was invented by illustrator Martin Handford who decided to hide his hero in crowded environments and to challenge his readers to find him... Finding Wally is hard but feasible in the UK, but it is simply impossible in France. Why? Because Wally is not Wally in France, he was renamed Charlie for some reason. And guess what, Charlie is also Waldo in America, Walter in Germany, Holger in Denmark, Willy in Norway, Valli in Iceland, and Effy in Israel... Man, this guy in the red shirt is more elusive than a SAS agent with all these passports at reach!
Peek-a-boo.
My son is not even 6-month old and he already teaches me things about cultural differences. The Wally/Charlie discrepency was one, but reminding me that animals do speak English too was a second lesson.
As a matter of fact, and despite his young age, we are already playing nursery rhymes and reading image books to our little one. Obviously, as grown-ups, we are alwas keen on exposing how bright we are. We of course know the name of that pink domestic quadruped that lays in the mud... But when we wanted to further boast our zoological expertise that we felt the backlash. The French animals do not speak the same language as their British counterparts and we failed page after page to speak the words of the creatures depicted in this book. Our pigs do not "oink-oink", they "gruik-gruik" ; ducks do not "quack-quack", they say "coin-coin" and our stalions do not "neigh-neigh"... no, they say "bonjour mademoiselle, voulez-vous coucher avec moi?".
So yes, you can learn at every age, and there are opportunities to expand your horizons in every single piece of culture you might be in touch with. And some may change your life for ever by the way. As mentioned before, one of the people who has had a major influence on my life to date is Shizuo Koizumi, a Japanese anime designer I never met but whose "Attacker Yu!" (Jeanne & Serge in French) made me discover volleyball as a young boy and live magnificent moments with great fellows until very recently.
And you, who are your childhood heroes, wherever they might be from? Drop me a line about them, I am dying to introduce them to my little one.
To read further:
- Und-art my skin, an article based on an art performance who revealed the sources of inspiration of a painter
- The bad education, or how the children tv programmes can prove to be very subversive
6.2.10
Terry, Tiger, Iris... And the other sex witches.
What happens on the pitch remains on the pitch.
You can hardly have missed it. It is all over the press now, and on both sides of the Channel: John Terry, captain of both Chelsea and England football squads, is due to have had an affair with the wife of a teammate... And guess what, I don't care. Unlike a great majority of the press, I don't bother about what football players do outside the stadium, because after all they are just football players.
What I do care about though is how this story is approached by the media, and how it reveals in depth cultural differences between France and other Anglo-Saxon nations. Because Terry's alleged affair is just the last episode of a series of sex scandals that have been reported largely across the press. Tiger Woods, a few weeks back, was put under the spotlight because of a so-called sex addiction. Before that Iris Robinson, wife of the Northern Ireland's First Minister, led his husband to resign because she confessed an affair with a 19-year old...
Private privacy or public publicity
All this noise stupefies me as a foreign witness. As a matter of fact, with my own referential scheme, these events belong to the private sphere and are totally dissociated from the public face of these people. As Bill Maher nailed it in his brilliant tirade about the French, we have this weird concept about privacy... We think it should remain private.
What does Tiger Woods' sex life tells me about his golf skills? Nothing (expect maybe that I should no longer bet on him performing hole-in-one). Is Peter Robinson's political programme worse now that his wife is having some extramarital entertainment? And what about Terry's defending excellence? Probably not either.
Ultimately, these are private facts that have more to do with moral than anything else. So I hear that these public people are due to be examples. I agree, but they should be in their own expertise. Terry and Woods should embody values such as resilience, fair play, dedication, personal achievement... But you would not expect them to comment on bioethics or have a view on neuroscience, so why should we expect more from them than what they really are? Because they earn a lot of money? I am personally obfuscated by the paycheck these people get every week, but they reflect the individual sports skills and some economy dynamics, not a moral contract for these sports people would be bound to. After all, accordingly to the Journal of Couple and Relationship Therapy, approximately 50 percent married women and 60 percent of married men will have an extramarital affair at some time in their marriage... Shocking I agree, but why would our above-mention examples differ from the norm. After all, they may well be examples, example of a real truth that people are to blind to accept.
The clear line.
In my opinion, moral is something that is very personal and as long as it does not imply unlawful behaviours, your private life and choices should remain your own business, and not be made public. You just have to be in peace with your consciousness. As far as I am aware, in Western societies, having an affair is not illegal and certainly not a crime. You can condemn it morally, but not legally. It is at the utmost a contravention to a contract, the marriage, which can lead to the dissolution of the contract. But here again, this should be a matter of interest for the only two parties, and certainly not the general public.
On the other hand, there is for me a very clear line when privacy should no longer remain private. In the French Constitution, which is largely inspired by the universal declaration of the human rights: "an individual's freedom ends where someone else's begins". And the law defines this framework very well. As a result, if in the exercise of their privacy citizens are infringing the law, then they make an indent to their contract with the Society. It is then normal for the Society, i.e. the general public, to be exposed to the contravention and its punishment. Had John Terry used of his status to force a juvenile person to perform a sex act with him, I would agree that the public scrutiny would become legitimate. But as far as I am aware all of the above-mentioned witches that have been hunted in the press for their sexual exactions where adults having an affair with a consenting partner...
The French touch.
Now that you know my opinion on these non-events, I would like to share with you some cultural facts around them, and try to cheer you up (whilst you start wondering why your partner is coming home so late, and whether she/he is part of the 50% stated earlier).
Terry's alleged mistress is Vanessa Perroncel and former partner of Wayne Bridge, another English international. I found interesting that the tabloids had to underline the fact that she was a French model, as if her nationality could explain the situation. This kind of unsaid statement is not uncommon in the English low quality press, but surprisingly enough it was echoed in more reputable titles. On the other side of the Channel, the French newspaper have started covering the news, under a very different angle. First they are talking about the un-understandable witch hunt that Terry is facing... And second they also refer to Miss Perroncel's nationality. The main difference though is that her French passport is almost a pride. Maybe it is some kind of a comforting thought that if French strikers cannot get around Terry during the upcoming World Cup, at least a French can get on top of him...
Another thought, this time for Mister Robinson and a comforting one I must say. I must acknowledge that I am not too au fait with his policy line. And I am neither too familiar with his person nor with his wife (although I have read a few statements from her that definitely do not encourage me to dig further). And yet, there might something comforting in how love affairs and public affairs can work positively too. At least in France.
During the last presidential elections, candidate Nicolas Sarkozy was facing Ségolène Royal. And despite running for the highest position in the République, neither of them was the perfect marital archetype. The later for instance had been living with her partner for over 30 years without having been ever married. They had four children together and split shortly before the elections because he would have had an affair with a journalist.
You can hardly have missed it. It is all over the press now, and on both sides of the Channel: John Terry, captain of both Chelsea and England football squads, is due to have had an affair with the wife of a teammate... And guess what, I don't care. Unlike a great majority of the press, I don't bother about what football players do outside the stadium, because after all they are just football players.
What I do care about though is how this story is approached by the media, and how it reveals in depth cultural differences between France and other Anglo-Saxon nations. Because Terry's alleged affair is just the last episode of a series of sex scandals that have been reported largely across the press. Tiger Woods, a few weeks back, was put under the spotlight because of a so-called sex addiction. Before that Iris Robinson, wife of the Northern Ireland's First Minister, led his husband to resign because she confessed an affair with a 19-year old...
Private privacy or public publicity
All this noise stupefies me as a foreign witness. As a matter of fact, with my own referential scheme, these events belong to the private sphere and are totally dissociated from the public face of these people. As Bill Maher nailed it in his brilliant tirade about the French, we have this weird concept about privacy... We think it should remain private.
What does Tiger Woods' sex life tells me about his golf skills? Nothing (expect maybe that I should no longer bet on him performing hole-in-one). Is Peter Robinson's political programme worse now that his wife is having some extramarital entertainment? And what about Terry's defending excellence? Probably not either.
Ultimately, these are private facts that have more to do with moral than anything else. So I hear that these public people are due to be examples. I agree, but they should be in their own expertise. Terry and Woods should embody values such as resilience, fair play, dedication, personal achievement... But you would not expect them to comment on bioethics or have a view on neuroscience, so why should we expect more from them than what they really are? Because they earn a lot of money? I am personally obfuscated by the paycheck these people get every week, but they reflect the individual sports skills and some economy dynamics, not a moral contract for these sports people would be bound to. After all, accordingly to the Journal of Couple and Relationship Therapy, approximately 50 percent married women and 60 percent of married men will have an extramarital affair at some time in their marriage... Shocking I agree, but why would our above-mention examples differ from the norm. After all, they may well be examples, example of a real truth that people are to blind to accept.
The clear line.
In my opinion, moral is something that is very personal and as long as it does not imply unlawful behaviours, your private life and choices should remain your own business, and not be made public. You just have to be in peace with your consciousness. As far as I am aware, in Western societies, having an affair is not illegal and certainly not a crime. You can condemn it morally, but not legally. It is at the utmost a contravention to a contract, the marriage, which can lead to the dissolution of the contract. But here again, this should be a matter of interest for the only two parties, and certainly not the general public.
On the other hand, there is for me a very clear line when privacy should no longer remain private. In the French Constitution, which is largely inspired by the universal declaration of the human rights: "an individual's freedom ends where someone else's begins". And the law defines this framework very well. As a result, if in the exercise of their privacy citizens are infringing the law, then they make an indent to their contract with the Society. It is then normal for the Society, i.e. the general public, to be exposed to the contravention and its punishment. Had John Terry used of his status to force a juvenile person to perform a sex act with him, I would agree that the public scrutiny would become legitimate. But as far as I am aware all of the above-mentioned witches that have been hunted in the press for their sexual exactions where adults having an affair with a consenting partner...
The French touch.
Now that you know my opinion on these non-events, I would like to share with you some cultural facts around them, and try to cheer you up (whilst you start wondering why your partner is coming home so late, and whether she/he is part of the 50% stated earlier).
Terry's alleged mistress is Vanessa Perroncel and former partner of Wayne Bridge, another English international. I found interesting that the tabloids had to underline the fact that she was a French model, as if her nationality could explain the situation. This kind of unsaid statement is not uncommon in the English low quality press, but surprisingly enough it was echoed in more reputable titles. On the other side of the Channel, the French newspaper have started covering the news, under a very different angle. First they are talking about the un-understandable witch hunt that Terry is facing... And second they also refer to Miss Perroncel's nationality. The main difference though is that her French passport is almost a pride. Maybe it is some kind of a comforting thought that if French strikers cannot get around Terry during the upcoming World Cup, at least a French can get on top of him...
Another thought, this time for Mister Robinson and a comforting one I must say. I must acknowledge that I am not too au fait with his policy line. And I am neither too familiar with his person nor with his wife (although I have read a few statements from her that definitely do not encourage me to dig further). And yet, there might something comforting in how love affairs and public affairs can work positively too. At least in France.
During the last presidential elections, candidate Nicolas Sarkozy was facing Ségolène Royal. And despite running for the highest position in the République, neither of them was the perfect marital archetype. The later for instance had been living with her partner for over 30 years without having been ever married. They had four children together and split shortly before the elections because he would have had an affair with a journalist.
On the other side of the ballot box, mister Sarkozy was married to Cécilia with whom he fell in love as he... married her to a French celebrity. He was then the mayor of a small town near Paris. He managed to seduce her and to marry her a few years later... And yet, he built a reputation of charmer, with countless affairs. As Sarkozy started his campaign, his wife fell for the CEO of the company which was organising her husband's meetings and left him. She finally came back to her husband only to divorce officially a couple months after the elections and to return to her lover (rumors say that it was part of a deal to look good in front of the electors). And guess what, Nicolas remarried nine months after being elected, to a former model and singer Carla Bruni...
Now that is what we call a rich (extra)marital life, and mister Robinson's little hiccup suddenly looks very mild. And yet, Sarkozy came out on top to win the election with 53.06 percent of the votes ahead of Ségolène Royal with 46.94 percent. So one could then argue that to lead the French nation you have to have the most extensive adulterous record. Or with more honesty, you could argue that the private life of any one should not interfere with their career. Whoever you are.
Now that is what we call a rich (extra)marital life, and mister Robinson's little hiccup suddenly looks very mild. And yet, Sarkozy came out on top to win the election with 53.06 percent of the votes ahead of Ségolène Royal with 46.94 percent. So one could then argue that to lead the French nation you have to have the most extensive adulterous record. Or with more honesty, you could argue that the private life of any one should not interfere with their career. Whoever you are.
To read further:
- American dream... a fantastic video on how some American value the French
- Shoot the stereotypes, an article that demonstrates that some sportsmen can in fact be social models too
- Cost of loving, an article on the backstage story of weddings in France.
30.1.10
A mountain dweller in the Washington Lake valley
I have recently had the opportunity to fly to almost the other side of the planet. This was my first time on the West Coast of the USA and my first time in Seattle. No matter how much people had told me about this major city of Washington state, I must admit that I bumped into a few surprises that I am keen to report in this blog post in form of questions/answers:- Is Washington State a republic where salmons are king? I must admit that before visiting Seattle I did not know anything about their local salmon. I eventually knew about the Alaskan, but there are so much coming from Norvay and Scotland over here that you may not know the full diversity of this species. But let's face it, you cannot dissociate Seattle from these pink-fleshed fishes as they seem to rule the place. For instance, there are two bridges crossing Washington Lake and they are quite unique. First they are floating and not laid on the ground because the lake is too deep and too big pillars might have blocked the natural flow of the salmons. Second, they are not wide enough to support the amount of traffic that goes through, and are consequently a constant traffic jam nightmare. Guess what? They cannot be expanded because the work and extended shade may disrupt the salmon migrations! A bit further sewage grids are accompanied with a sign: do not dump anything in the sewage. Why? To avoid polution? Yes... of course, but primarily to avoid bothering the salmons as the visual clearly priorities. Lucky enough to have a boat? Your boarding deck will have to be in transparent material... to avoid disturbing the swimming kings. And the list goes on and on.
More about the king of Seattle and fun around it here. - Are you really green when you drive a 4x4? Seattle is renown for being one of the most eco-conscious city in the country. Most taxis travelling around the city are Toyota Prius with hybrid motors. People have a very high consumption of organic products (and this translates in an average wasteline way below Fatlanta's). And yet, Average Joe's car is a SUV. This type of car does match well with the topography of the city where streets have been drawn straight regardless of the ground inclination, and the wild countryside thirty minutes away. But on the other hand, it seems to be antinomic of a green mindset.
- Do we know each other? The people in this city are just too friendly, and that can take you aback. Waiters, shop staffs... Everyone is so friendly that, coming from Europe, you may feel that it is over the top, or even malicious. It took me a while to adjust to this mindset. An example? I was shopping for some presents to bring home in the baby aisle of a department store. The sales rep comes to me and engage into a conversation:
"- who are you shopping for today?" she says with a smile on her face.
(obviously not for me as I have stopped wearing 6-8 month babygros for a few years) "- My son"
"- And where is your son?", looking around for a pram.
"- Back home."
"- Ah... And where is home?"
"- In London, UK"
"- Great, enjoy shopping"
I could not quite figure out whether she was genuinely interested, or just attempting too hard to be friendly to sell, or even if she was an under-cover FBI agent conducting an investigation to figure out if I were a paedophile... - Are you aware that you are on latitude 47? The great thing about Seattle for someone like me is the immediate proximity of both snow-covered mountains and sea. The earlier attribute should be an hint of the current weather in that area. Seattle is in the Northwestern region... Like NORTH western... When you walk around, you really wonder if people really clicked about the fact that they are on the same latitude as Ukraine, Romania, Kazakhstan... Non of which is really reknown for its sunny beaches. So it is fair to say that it is not the sunniest and warmest place in the world, and this translates in numerous outdoor clothing chains like North Face, Patagonia, etc. Seattle is thus probably the best place to shop for warm fleeces or snowboard gears. And yet, when the above-mentioned Average Joe parks is SUV downtown, he is very likely to wear a simple T-Shirt or even flip-flops.
And finally, is this the best example of name dropping or what?
(Seen at Seattle Airport. Seattle home of Microsoft...)
21.11.09
We Feel Fine... Thank you!
Turning the page
A while back, the news were all doom and gloom. The economical downturn was all over: in the press, on TV, on the top of the alibi lists used by large corporations to legitimise redundancy plans... Back then, I wrote a note about the positive attitude that one can adopt to face this challenging situation.
A few months later, I have encountered the embodiment of my earlier thoughts in the form of Christmas lightings. As we get closer to the holidays period, positivism seems to take over. I was hence happily surprised to walk up Carnaby Street and to discover this year's variation of their much anticipated Christmas decorations:
Peace. Love. Joy... All good intentions materialised in gigantic balloons covered in rainbow colours, shining stars and other feel-good graphic designs. They hang over the crowd like oversized cartoon bubbles, as if to visualise the intimate thoughts of passers-bys.
Picture that emotion.
As you may remember from a previous post, I am keeping a close eye on Bing, Microsoft new search experience which aims at offering consumers an alternative to Google's 10 boring blue links. Bing just got out of its beta phase in the UK, and the British experience now integrates a brand new way to search: visual search. Don't get me wrong, this is not a new way to search for images. No, this is a visual way to search. It provides users with thumbnails around a given topic, each picture representing an intent. In this example, the images represent travel destinations which can be filtered out using options on the left. You can thus decide that in June, in France, Lyon and the French Alps are one of the ideal travel destinations... Hurray!
Beyond the shameless promotion of my home region, why is that search marketing digression relevant to the current article? Visual search relies on a psychological fact: human beings process images 28% faster than text. This is probably why people like Jonathan Harris work tirelessly at visualising what cannot be materialised.
I refered to Harris' work a few times on this blog, because I just find it amazing. In 2005 for instance, Sep Kamvar and Jonathan Harris created the award-winning website wefeelfine.org, an exploration of human emotion that harvests human feelings from all over the internet. On that site, millions of bubbles are extracting from the blogosphere the words "I feel..." and then depending on the adjective that follows the verb the bubble gets coloured and clustered.
Log in to that site at any point of time and you get an instantaneous view of what people feel then. You can even filter out the results by gender, age groups, weather... Are men or women happier? Does rainy weather affect how we feel? Is beauty the bridge between happiness and negativity? How do our emotions change as we age? What causes depression? What's sexy? What's normal? What's human?
We feel fine finally provides a way to answer these questions that is both quantitative and anecdotal, putting individual stories into a larger context and showing the stories behind the statistics, or as the authors like to say, "bringing life to statistics and statistics to life."
If you want to learn more about this experiment on how to visualise feelings, the authors have published a book "We feel fine: an almanach of human emotion". Packed with personal photos, scientific observations, statistical infographics, and countless candid vignettes from ordinary people, We Feel Fine is "a visual, fiercely intelligent, endlessly engrossing crash course in the secrets of human emotion".
Now, that could be a great "Feel-Good Christmas Present", couldn't it?
To read further:
A while back, the news were all doom and gloom. The economical downturn was all over: in the press, on TV, on the top of the alibi lists used by large corporations to legitimise redundancy plans... Back then, I wrote a note about the positive attitude that one can adopt to face this challenging situation.
A few months later, I have encountered the embodiment of my earlier thoughts in the form of Christmas lightings. As we get closer to the holidays period, positivism seems to take over. I was hence happily surprised to walk up Carnaby Street and to discover this year's variation of their much anticipated Christmas decorations:
Picture that emotion.
As you may remember from a previous post, I am keeping a close eye on Bing, Microsoft new search experience which aims at offering consumers an alternative to Google's 10 boring blue links. Bing just got out of its beta phase in the UK, and the British experience now integrates a brand new way to search: visual search. Don't get me wrong, this is not a new way to search for images. No, this is a visual way to search. It provides users with thumbnails around a given topic, each picture representing an intent. In this example, the images represent travel destinations which can be filtered out using options on the left. You can thus decide that in June, in France, Lyon and the French Alps are one of the ideal travel destinations... Hurray!
Beyond the shameless promotion of my home region, why is that search marketing digression relevant to the current article? Visual search relies on a psychological fact: human beings process images 28% faster than text. This is probably why people like Jonathan Harris work tirelessly at visualising what cannot be materialised.
I refered to Harris' work a few times on this blog, because I just find it amazing. In 2005 for instance, Sep Kamvar and Jonathan Harris created the award-winning website wefeelfine.org, an exploration of human emotion that harvests human feelings from all over the internet. On that site, millions of bubbles are extracting from the blogosphere the words "I feel..." and then depending on the adjective that follows the verb the bubble gets coloured and clustered.
We feel fine finally provides a way to answer these questions that is both quantitative and anecdotal, putting individual stories into a larger context and showing the stories behind the statistics, or as the authors like to say, "bringing life to statistics and statistics to life."
If you want to learn more about this experiment on how to visualise feelings, the authors have published a book "We feel fine: an almanach of human emotion". Packed with personal photos, scientific observations, statistical infographics, and countless candid vignettes from ordinary people, We Feel Fine is "a visual, fiercely intelligent, endlessly engrossing crash course in the secrets of human emotion".
Now, that could be a great "Feel-Good Christmas Present", couldn't it?
To read further:
- Don't laugh for me Argentina, an article on what a real recession is
- Now this is a downturn, a note on what crazy people do to go downward
- From scapegoat to superhero, or the real internet revolution.
- A colourful digital crystal ball, an article about the visual representation of your online presence
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