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The fine work

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Hotspots ... with Romain Verger

Entering the work of Romain Verger is a journey strange and paradoxical. Strange as it opens on distant and mysterious though falling in the real. Paradoxical, because the player is caught in a double movement: an exploration of an elsewhere unknown, but a plunge into the intimate and creates a spiral of both spatial and temporal vortex of seizing player to lead in unexpected areas. Already published three novels emerges a tumultuous harmony, as the world emerges through the words of the author is violent and consistent: it is about human space difficult to decipher, but gradually the absorbs, ingests, assimilates closely.

The narrator Hotspots belongs to the real world, even our everyday world. Teacher in the Paris suburbs, he takes the train every day to find difficult classes. His name is Roman, as the author, narratological element that could mislead readers accustomed to stories of self-fiction, but it may be a decoy more placed in its path, or else a reminder that any novel is the product a conscience or subconscious - two, actually. At the outset, the journey of the Roman defeat - even if committed on a specific route guided by the rails of this train commuter route to inevitable: the bleak prospects that follow the haunting rhythm of the race desperate awaken imagination that lets him escape, then raise or fall asleep and dream. The landmarks are erased to make room for a seascape that gradually invades the whole universe of the passenger train. Thus, soil, earth, asphalt is a straitjacket that must escape, the narrator strong presentiment that this world is not his.

Going from one point to another, such as making on-site, I am used to move against the direction of the crowds massed around the city, across the wrong way to space hair, embraquant with me to the river dump them beyond the pale of the world, bordering uplands. But I know that the sea is at hand, secretly innervating concrete, cement and asphalt frozen. Even close all its fibers hold up in the skinny arms of the Seine, away from mouth, I feel his presence every day, saturating the air as the announcement of a tidal wave.

The feeling of not belonging to the land element is accurate: Romain complains of pain acute, located in the bony part of her body, her spine, which symbolizes this strange, especially since Dr. Moore is unable to treat her, the narrator's body undergoing a series of treatments powerless to alleviate. Meanwhile, the usual components of his world are transposed into the fantasy world that consumes more and more an ocean space smells of iodine, sea spray, liquid salted colleague turns into a mermaid, becomes a textbook red alga ... inexplicable pain intensifies, and opens a door to a surprising addition:

My body is the division of iron, it is the crossing of trains crashing, it is the leatherette cover of obscene writings and erasures, the cut stones, a tunnel through which the winds, it is the immense patience parapets . It will be all over soon. We'll stop soon. I'm getting ready as a wedding.

I walk towards my destination, my reinvention.

Noumea Aquarium

After the surgery referred as a "parenthesis" in the exact middle of the novel begins the astonishing change. The narrator, recovering at the Armor Whirlpool is hosted by Dr. Alpheus - recalling the river god son of Oceanus and Tethys - in a world both strange and familiar, which unites the present with the past: "Passers-down seem outdated, from another time. Their clothes, their gait, voice, everything about them seems stuffy. ", Which exudes the ocean. Everything eddies that create their harmonious movements, the sound of their voice, evokes the sea

To have heard many, they seem to speak without vowel sounds in "ch", "s", "f" and "th". Even the "k" is sweet, as if it were always followed by an "s" that absorbed. To hear them, it looked like a concert shell; mussels and cockles found by the thousands in the muted chattering wind.

sounds of childhood, those of the shell that is glued to her ear ... Now this journey to the confines of Earth is also a journey through time, which seems to abolish itself, punctuated by activities who invited themselves, pleasant but meaningless (Romain surrenders to a program he does not try to understand, seduced and lulled by the mystery). The evolution of processing that occurs with delight escaped him, like the subtle changes occurring in his body, he remark but he worries away. The chronology seems evasive dissolve any apprehension, any roughness; edges soften, no more no shock strikes the body of Roman whose pain has disappeared. The rhythm of the text, its prosody adapt to the sweetness of this underwater world and embrace the movements of this consciousness bercée.Les markers are abolished to make way for a world clear and soft, enveloping the narrator as a protective padding that the swaddles:

I do not know how long my treatment began, or when she will end. I lost count of the appointment with Dr. Alpheus, transferred the chair on the promenade, sea bathing, the hours spent in front of the bay window or my dreams days to reopen the same night. Reading the newspaper I hang up well to weather, world time, unless he delivered his daily flood of gruesome news. Equally unchanging face blue sky pierced by blinding its orbit, and the imperturbable tidal cycle.

The marine component seems to suspend the narrator between heaven and earth, in the pleasant limbo that cushion the harshness of the world, as the amniotic fluid that bathes the unborn, protecting the contacts brutal while letting in sound attenuated. This position of the fetus is also part of caring for Roman: "My program is enriched with a new treatment: the floating bath. It makes me go into a huge shell filled with seaweed and water so salty that I float effortlessly like a cork. It closes and I must stay at least one hour in the dark. " ... Thus begins a regression from man to child, but who can not stop this human stage. The body of the narrator is engaged in an inevitable process which integrates even more closely in the world. Beings take an intermediate consistency, half human, half sea creatures. Thus, the two women who become the companions of choice of narrator mutate into strange mermaids or sea lions holding a sensual choreography Navy:

This morning, Ophelia and engaged in Ondine a curious parade. They turned into the swimming pool while swimming belly to belly, sometimes one below the other, sometimes the reverse. Sometimes it took several laps before that which was under water reappears at the surface and resumes breathing. Then they alternated, continuing their aquatic ballet. When they passed me, I followed their eyes pearly undulating body and collected the wavelets arising from their movements. By not seeking any way to hide them, I could only find that I no longer existed in their eyes.

The two women first names first water instill some excitement into the erotic life of the narrator which therefore is still attached to land. Their relationship seems sexualized n'ad'ambiguïté for Roman, whose power fantasies have not yet disappeared. So is he disturbed by the mention of women taking bath together. But sexuality must also be denied: so is he alone in this strange dream that the doctor tells Frida:

Then I return to my last dream I was lying on a beach, sex driven into the ground. I wanted to fertilize land of my semen. Beside me, a woman was sitting and shook the sand between his lips. The bank took a sudden water: a huge wave carried the bathers. I was alone in resisting, anchored to the ground by my penis. "Breathe, I told the sea, flows in my current draws little water is left. Then movement, chains or straps holding tight to the feet and dragged me by the door of a train.

This dream recalling the fact that before the treatment is one recent contacts with the narrator's experience of man, even if sometimes, fantasy, reminiscence or strangeness of the situation, he sees some of the characters who once populated his daily routine: Ariel, the mermaid-colleague, Manuel, transplanted the suburban market at this resort, which becomes a messenger of the ocean ... Similarly, her sexuality falls asleep gradually, as the imperceptible changes undergone by the body whose consistency loses its rigidity and becomes increasingly flexible. Its members acquire a remarkable elasticity, while diminishing their sex.

Although prominent, it is now the size of a slug and has the form of a Hexabranchus. It gives me no more or less feel that another area of my body became completely and uniformly sensitive, but sensitivity and other new, extended to perceptions infinitesimal. As a ray of sunshine suddenly exposes the dust particles suspended in the air, I feel them land on my skin, and air movement heralding an approach, I suspect, to my texture changes , storms, cloud bursts, ski sea changes in the moon releases My skin at the opening of its pores.

Great Barrier Reef

Thus, the metamorphosis of the Roman (which has meanwhile lost its identity) continues imperceptibly, the away from the human to be closer to the marine component of the fluidity that allows the union of the shapes and contours that can fit together perfectly. This whole body becomes "sensitive area" permeable every nuance of the atmosphere, in harmony with the cosmos ... But this transformation is a harbinger of death - since the body can not subsist in its shape to the desired fusion.

The three beautiful and subtle novels Romain Verger lead us to think about our place in the universe, in different ways (I will Big Dipper and Black Forest in chronicles to come) but in a haunting harmony: the questions they generate are painful, as it is to think that this parenthesis is the life among the darkness prior to conception and the nothingness of death. This passage, path to the unknown and mysterious end, can fill us with anxiety. Hotspots imagines a possible symbiosis at the cost of abandoning humanity Big Dipper and Black Forest exploring other ways exciting but scary, but each of these novels provides an essential questioning metaphysics, opening up fascinating and poetic.

Arcimboldo Water

Romain Verger, Hotspots, Quidam Publisher, 2006

And to discover the universe Romain Verger:

- Its very nice blog , membrane

- A fascinating article with an interview on La Taverne du Doge Loredan

And then, to discover urgently, his other novels: Big Dipper (Quidam, 2007 ) and F orests Black (Quidam, 2010)

Powerpoint On Tide Detergent

Good late 2010, early 2011

Thanks to all and everyone who attended this blog during 2010. New legislation will be put online early 2011.
Meanwhile, I wish you all a very happy holiday season. Sincerely


Mar (c) tin Winckler / Zaffran

And to start the year, my "little afflictionnaire medical " a gift from the site online edition of François Bon, publishes. Net !

Sympathy Quotes Loss Of A Mother In Law

good debut novel (catching) - by Fred (Exercise # 15)

1. In his office translucent, floating above the skyscrapers of Oulipothèque, Lynx scrutinized me from head to foot before handed me the list of ingredients include: a paper airplane for takeoff, a packet of flour for white makeup, a movie ticket for every luggage Malle ... The way I managed to climb up him to escape the censor for cats false was enough to convince him of my determination Panther alert. Did not mind the stairs, I could respond with flexibility to its feline grilling. Finally, I wanted the secret of the great paper tigers! After many lifetimes of hard work useless, I was going to put my shoe on the keyboard and become the queen of the incipit. A good start to the novel and quite would be the end of these vile guns guard dogs canine style! A new chapter began ... cat

2. The apartment door closes on your father left for work. Fear you contract the abdomen. When the cat's away, the fury is in a trance. His sharp invectives, his incisive words you reduced to the status of a package of flour with an ugly mouse gnawing at the bottom of stubbornness that will not open a closet. Your brain is a powder which his legs nerve clawed his neuroses, leaving traces of wolf stalking its prey. You close your eyes to ward off his sentences knives. Hidden in you, you t'insurges. You barricades. You t'absentes. You take off, you are no longer on the cold floor of the kitchen, you are the king and the bird perched high above the skyscrapers. You are the giant elephant's ears, as in this film that you have hung the pretty ticket above your bed. You fly so fast, if you flat top, spins you so hard, you do not see anymore. And she can never see you anymore.

3. She pushes his cart along the paths of this labyrinth of detergent, noodles, milk cartons. She looks at her post-it fluorescent. It takes. She drops. A box of peeled tomatoes in juice. It takes. She drops. One liter of degreaser for dishes. It takes. She drops. Five slices of ham the sixth free. It takes. She drops. A box of food for the cat he left. It takes. She drops. A kilo of pure cane brown sugar. It takes. She drops. A holiday memory in Martinique. It takes. She drops. A packet of flour warranty against lumps. It takes. She drops. Paul's hand that strums somewhere in New York. He now lives in a film which she lost the ticket. She argues in the streets of Manhattan skyscrapers provincial laundry, noodles, milk cartons, lost in the traffic of carts that intersect, skim, separate.

Nausea And Burping Stomach Virus?

Death and love in Wittkop: Necrophilia trip ...

Hans Bellmer, Doll

Today December 22, 2010 , it has been eight years since Gabrielle Wittkop left this world. Ed Wood in his Tavern and I have wanted to honor him today through our two readings Necrophile , sulfurous work, fascinating and inviting an intimate questions ...

,

"This stunning radiance of heaven is that of death itself. My head is spinning in the sky. Never mind that only runs better in his death. "

(Georges Bataille, My mother, Jean-Jacques Pauvert, 1966)

Lucien N. caress the flesh cooled, brushes the edges of a face that no breath no longer comes animate, loses his fingers in a hair off, sniffs the body's subtle scent of moth before their corruption. He can only love the dead. The Necrophile , diary of a collector, opens with the unbearable. Or, what should be. Dates are scattered amidst a succession of carefully staged meetings. Indeed, Lucien is on the lookout, watching for every opportunity to satisfy what we consider as a passion against nature, this exclusive love for dead ... But never or almost word "corpse", n is employed by the narrator. These deaths are the subject of all his care, his tenderness too, and his desire. Love them after their death is a way to give them what death denied them: the contemplation of their bodies, loving attention, the touch of skin, intense feelings for what others do not consider that as a good jacket to throw at best to hide. He sees them as "companions" - the word he uses, breaking their irremediable solitude after having sought the kingdom of the dead.

Steals these remains in the burial chambers, in cemeteries, according to the information it has gathered or random circumstances. This love brings all beings that separates: Young women, old men, children, without any limitation or constraint. Anonymous, as this "girl of Ivry," the virgin whose sex was never used during his lifetime, "woman-blot" that mysteriously absorbs the seed of necrophilia, mingling with the more intimate life and death, birth and promise of Lethe, "dead-live with the quivering flesh [was] so the surrounding [his] and absorbing [its] substance." With each body he collected goes to the end of the act, inspecting every inch of the flesh, turning to look at each fold, in an intense contemplation, a fever for knowledge, but with tact and delicacy, honoring the dead rather than the layman. Their arrival in the room where he indulges his passion is organized according to a ritual adapted to each: the body is the object of a cult who seeks to establish between Lucien and death a personal and intimate relationship. Netsuke collector of the macabre, these erotic figurines featuring antics that may seem sordid and yet whose Muramato Koshi, master of the eighteenth century, is very popular works, "dead sodomized by hyenas, fellateurs succubi, masturbators skeletons, corpses entwined like knots of vipers, devouring ghost fetuses, courtesans impaling on the rigidity of a dead ... "he does not associate his quest to any horrible sensation seeking. On the contrary, it is largely what makes the strength of this extraordinary novel, the story of his antics do not repulsive, does not terrify the reader located away far beyond what he imagined withstand, transported by the words, the beauty of these phrases carved with refined precision. But the style of an author as beautiful as it is, can not explain this strange text that membership entails. We would expect that this reading feels disgust and anger, as Lucien N. us away from ourselves through the description of that passion. Mysteriously, the text takes us well beyond what we believed to be capable of withstanding.

Gustave Doré, Paolo and Francesca

It is not sympathy or even empathy. The strange relationship that develops between the reader and the novel is made of fascination, some might believe that unhealthy, but it is not. The Necrophile reached in each of us a sensitive area and secluded, situated in the shadows of our unconscious: the relationship we have with the idea of death, especially death of the body, is here challenged. Indeed, the moment of death is symbolically associated with the concept of separation of soul and body. The latter, deprived of life, is stripped of his humanity, reduced to the level of object, but, paradoxically, surrounded by an immense respect. Demonstrate his affection for this envelope and private life threatened by corruption seems moved and our societies, in fact, hide more often the sight of a corpse, seen as offensive, even obscene. Make a death subject to a sensual passion, submit to sexual intercourse is an affront to the sacred. Moreover, Gabrielle Wittkop agrees to deliver a psychoanalytic explanation for this morbid attraction: Lucien N., child, experienced her first erotic ecstasy to eight years before the remains of his mother.

grandmother sobbed. "Kiss your mother again," she said pushing me towards the bed. I shrugged to this wonderful woman lying among the white linen. I placed my lips on her waxen face, I shook his shoulders in my little arms, I breathed the smell intoxicating. It was one of the gypsy professor of natural history we had distributed to school and I raised in a cardboard box. This smell fine, dry, musky, leaves, larvae and stones, from the lips of mom, she was already prevalent in her hair like a perfume. And suddenly interrupted pleasure recover my childish flesh with disconcerting abruptness. Pressed against the hip mom, I felt myself come from a concussion delicious, while I unbosom myself for the first time.

The coincidence between the death of the mother and the first emotion prevents the narrator to desire a living body. His research, however, does not find that contact breast - which already is shocking in that it operates between the amalgam filial love and sexual desire, Oedipus realized when, precisely, the mother moved away permanently. The existence of this document begins with Necrophile both uncontrolled and founder who puts unable to find fulfillment in a natural sexuality. Yet he claims his strangeness

We talk about sex in all its forms, except one. Necrophilia is neither condoned nor approved of the government protesting youths. Necrophilic love, the only one True, since even amor intellectualism, this large white rose, waiting to be paid back. No consideration for the necrophiliac love, the gift he made of himself arouse any momentum .

Death Mask of The Unknown of the Seine

Thus, through these outrageous acts for the common man, Lucien N. is dedicated to a work impossible to achieve purity through the gift of absolute self, since there has nothing to expect from each other that no longer exists as a body that senseless, so incapable of gratitude or affection. But the narrator is sometimes surprised by the reactions of those confusing body of which he is the lover sex life of the girl of Ivry, the revolt of the little girl "vomisseuse ink putrid, mouth Suzanne opening onto beautiful teeth like pearls ... He accepts, adapts, integrates them into his ritual, and for each delay time of separation, which, again, is a source of despair. Every time or almost, is the Seine welcomes these bodies failed - the signs of decomposition, mottled purple, odors, prelude when the flesh will be finally be assimilated to nature. Separation is heartbreaking Suzanne:

When I slid into the Seine, I screamed when I heard sounded like coming from another planet. It seemed that tore my heart, you tore my sex.

The Seine had allowed his body for two weeks saturated with my sweat-soaked my seed, my life, my death, Suzanne scrimmages. In it, I went into Hades with it, I rolled into the ocean silt, m'enchevêtrai in algae, I froze in the limestone, moving through the veins of coral ...

Returning home, I threw myself on a bed that smelled of carrion. I fell asleep at once, suddenly seized by a mortal sleep, lulled by the same black waves - Mare Tenebrarum - which rocked Suzanne Suzanne my love.

The Necrophile appears as one who, rather than enjoying the pleasures of forbidden love and morbid nature cons, wants to abolish the border between life and death. The protection of Hecate, goddess of night and death, accompanied by her dog ghosts seems to be granted since it often leads to those he can love, as she helped Demeter Persephone to seek to kingdom of the dead. But this ambiguous goddess turns against him, the passage of the Styx could take place in both directions. Irreparably, Lucien N. is brought to join those he like an infinite love, these "angels" who no longer belong to our world and that he wanted so much to learn ... Roman threshold, the invisible border between life and waterproof and death, romance of the unknown also The Necrophile transgresses taboos to lead us to reflect on love, devotion or expectation of reciprocity impossible.

Gabrielle Wittkop, The Necrophile , Portraits, 2001 (first published took place in 1972 published by Regine Deforges)

The article by Peter Vincent Guitard, who is on a different look this text

Rikers Island Visit Schedule 2010

Poppies in October

I thought it through.
Even if it's not that often, even if there is not always a recipe.
Even if sometimes the pictures will be missed.
Although I feel that it's not going to interest anyone, even if some find it less well.
Although the nights will be shorter.
Because I always liked the topics Readers' , and I was still disappointed not to find my letters.
Now, I write HERE

The photo was taken in spring Zadkine museum in Paris. Then we would snack on chocolate JP Hévin green chairs on the Luxembourg almost deserted.

Fastpitch Bat Reviews

Life in Brief, 10 - by Fulbine (Exercise No. 16)

is raw, that I announce the death of my last skin.

I understood the premise of this final phase in seeing the following ready behind me in the mirror. He probably had a favorable treatment from the board for pushing me so quickly into the void. Initially a light smoke and a white silhouette of increasingly dense. Until the hungry eyes in my neck bristling.

My last dead skin is presqu'assassinée.

child, the loss of my first skin does not affect me naive I was. Young adults engaged in security troops, I practiced flagellation dermocriminels populations. The loss of my skin, I even filled with patriotic pride, for which the following endorsement.

My last skin had not had much previous I was the first to score.

She wore it in the pale moon light encountered, was pronounced waves lunar its bluish pigments. She had acquired a certain grace, certainly admired by the following waiting.

She was imbued with the disorder animas footprint on the planet Earth that I had the opportunity to address in my thousandth year. Those who needed to regenerate copulation. A mix of ballet skins, strange and smelly. My last experience was skin.

My last skin was tinged atmospheres Andromeda and Centaurus. So many light years experienced in my career Nauta, who intimately linked in my mind of flesh. How many grams will go with it? How my soul will I lose?

My last skin was also my last life.

Flux Bindings Any Good?

RIP Blake Edwards

New ticket to discover http://www.voircicontre.fr/cuisine/

you soon,

Rent A Gown In Taguig

Catch: Debut novels by Viviana Salome (Ex. No. 15)

1. Fucking plane ... To find a skyscraper in broad daylight ... But what it took? Like thousands of New Yorkers, Kirk had visited the site immediately. He could not believe his eyes. A disaster beyond imagination. War, bomb, were the images that needed him. A neighborhood devastated. The tower opened, raped, torn, the carcass of the plane mixed with his own, Judas' kiss that leads to death. Together in frustration. Yells. People without a voice. Those who run, those who are petrified. Haggard silhouettes that pass each voir.Des twisted beams, the remnants of what was a coffee maker, broken glass in quantity, computers crashed, broken chairs, sheets of paper released from their record, and a few clothes scattered among all the remains, a ridiculous movie ticket. Chaos indescriptible.Et dust, dust ... astronomical amounts of gray dust that floated, filled the nostrils, eyes stung. Heaps of dust such as flour escaping from a giant package that would have gutted spilled there among the rubble of what was once a symbol of capitalisme.Des Wildcats already roamed among the rubble, searching for prey which would improve their daily ; Rodents should also be at work, "said Kirk, even if he did not see them.

2. It was in ancient times when God, who had not yet completed its work, was not tired and he had not yet retired from the trust in man, he had also just to create and which caused him many soucis.Dieu already had created the earth - but not yet the subway to the poor wretches to warm winter, fearing that no man creates a right of entry payable as ignoble yellow tickets becomingly dressed in a brown stripe in their mid-right, he created the earth, so the sky but also obviously not the skyscraper - the sky did not like being tickled too souvent.Il had also created all sorts of mammals: horses, cows, cats, fish (why the fish have stopped breastfeeding their young will be another story), pigs, rabbits ... From the variety of food also: grasshoppers, caterpillars, worms, apples, oranges, wheat, although Hawaii (Eve, in good African aptly named Hawa) complaining that he did not directly invented packets of flour, which would have been more convenient, it is clear that he is not making the cuisine.Septième day: God, therefore, had created the human being. Male and female he created them. A single human being, two sides, like a coin, tails, man, face side, the woman. Ideal for cross without seeing each other. Adam Stack win, tails I lose, "said our mother who was also the first feminist. Be well coupled back to back, it can not continue.

3. Perched atop the highest skyscraper Newman City, Eye Piercing scrutinized the city to its feet. Traffic was heavy at the end of the afternoon of a chilly autumn already. The 17th Avenue skirted a park with trees Mordor where children were playing tag. On the opposite sidewalk, a woman in black hat came out of a supermarket, a large paper bag in the arms of which emerged a packet of flour and two leeks perilous balance. Turning to the cinema, she passed without seeing a hooded man who came out and carelessly left his ticket to the fluttering sol.Scènes of ordinary life, thought piercing eye. Now we'll have some fun. And his sardonic laughter splashed the city.

Writing A Letter Congratulating Pregnancy

Life in brief, 9 - by Lyjazz (Writing Exercise No. 16)

This morning Friday, December 3, 2010 our population, following the normal cycle of births and deaths, has relieved Mr Ignatius, Adolphe FRANCISCO. Joined the organization as a midshipman to copulation, sorry: standard first class in 1969, he followed the usual masturbator grades 1st dan dan until the 32nd, that of wisdom. He would then get high without struggle, as his career unfolded according to his wishes (and according to our old) title of grandmaster viagra copulation, in 1999. We will always remember with disgust of his dirty jokes and his propensity to put his hand to the basket. It came into fashion "outside mating" that is retired in 2009. To the relief of his family pairs.Que be assured of our full flogging in his honor. A ceremony will be held in his memory on December 6 at 17h between dog and loup.Ni flowers or wreaths, but 11,000 yards and cilices.Lyjazz

Vespa Sidecart Singapore

Catch: Debut Novels by Marcel copper (Ex. No. 15 )

1 / Lorsqu'ildécida to join his country, it was primarily to evade connarddes cities, much more consistent and less natural in its stupidity that leconnard fields. To be honest, he could not stand the educated. Ceuxqui know and have as their principal activity you do knowledge. In fact, no reason, no sense no longer held him in Paris. Tired of Pigalle, no wheat or turf, and Tricard jaded, he tried to draw a line thirty ansde bummer. Poissard because he was. All the dolls that he had placed on letrottoir or in bed he had not reported qu'ennuis and headache. Ilave wanted to be a boss, he was a salted. And migraine. DeMontmartre bars, he had drank several thirst, the beds were smashed in Deschambres tattles ended up doing disband and pluiepoisseuse as it does is that it soaks up Paris brains. Rienda serious. Just his personal stock, dreams were no longer cotésdepuis some time.

The slow train is hanging out. Lepaysage had quickly tired. He had plunged into a book of crosswords. Two horizontal : skyscrapers. Lechauffeur had just put a big swerve to avoid a cat not mêmenoir. Three horizontal : Bag defarine. In seven letters. With luck he did not, there would bienun controller. Bah he flog a subway ticket. Here they feraientpas difference. Quatrehorizontal: May be of different sexes but did not see. Sometimes he wondered where they went to get it all. He had never finished a puen. It was only baltringue. Maybe, but they would see would see cequ'ils farmers.

2 / In my village, as qu'ilm'en remember, we naquîmes time of self-righteous and I can not direcomment we passed the time dupolitiquement correct. Of course, we continued to rein in the minds chagrins.Ceux as well cataloged pensance rebels became cheesy, outdated. Obsolescence and ontdes antiquated charm that ignores busy. We wanted to separate us from our chains, they took the opportunity to attack our roots, to be painted couleursnauséabondes to discredit them. And us.

Our fathers made us brothers MomEd common to twelve years apart and we never nepartageâmes ills of childhood or adolescent arrogance. Nousfûmes soon as old enough to understand the lack of meaning in this world, we débarrassâmesdes slag family that often make pathetic entrefrères relations. Dull but smooth we find ourselves at long, our lives do not seem affected, nor informed s'entrouver outrageously. We drowned a few illusions depuislongtemps lost in our common love of the grape juice. If motsavaient kept some sense, I would write each suffisammentl'autre respected for not wanting different. It must be said that there was nullevaleur added daily in our sky: we live alone.

By sespoches I found a movie ticket and a picture of skyscrapers. ATable on the kitchen, a pat of butter, a quart of milk and a bag on the floor farineouvert a book by Jacques Salome 'Man and wife, all without seeing. " They broke her head on the stone del'évier. The political police, was signed.

3 / She loves her apartment. It does not luidéplait living alone in its twenty fourth floor. She often goes into collecting cinoche.Elle same tickets. She enjoys cooking, especially lapâtisserie. She's always in reserve and three packets of flour as Sucre. Tonight she made an apple pie Jacques Prevert. Patrick Cellequ'aimait so he ended up eating it without seeing it, his pastry. It must be said also sometimes forgot petitdéjeunait when facing him. Draw; completely zero. He had séparésur this score. No it is not being alone is another who works chose.Elle not corrected copies. Ellel and knows too well the story: Do not drag descopies uncorrected. Nothing is more dangerous. They seem to sleep but n'hésiterontpas future arise in the hollow of the pillow. Black ink on white night. Lacopie uncorrected does not whining, but it insinuates itself between the sheets. Elleronronne the rhythm of the ticking of the clock. A Once it is awakened troptard.Mais it gets worse: the copy half corrected, the most vicious. Ellene not allow a clear statement of what is left to suffer, nor the tempsinhérent this presence that is not yet a pain (you're young) but will become the last fifty. This one is sacrificed; morbidity should take care of it early. It is the reality of your cowardice, you would be correct, for his sake and yours, you know, but vousavez gave up in the middle, and it will start all over again. The corrected copienon never disappears. It is here faitvivre the herd instinct in groups, because the uncorrected copy can not stand the loneliness. Etcelle top who are looking at, is not the worst, others, those on the bottom, still hidden, what they reserve? Lepire sure. Corrigéeest not copying as it treats arthritis tirelessly ink mercurochromesans that it never disappears. And because it's your body laréclame, body or certified associate, whatever, it generates lacopie. She knows: You can make you a blood red ink : Tuseras always alone with your copies!

Bottomless Party Scene Harold And Kumar

Trainspotting (text on the fly) - by Beetle

Beetle is a medical student. She sends me texts that I publish on my site professional Winckler's Webzine .
Here is the beginning of the last one. MW

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Trainspotting "Choose life. Let yourself be terrorized on your outlook, a sweeping look at the proposals career options to you, unemployment inevitably at the end, dead ends, the newspaper without passion, the Excel spreadsheet to life, the duty subordination. Suffers for guys who do not look at you, spend your Saturday head in the bowl to ask if it's you or if other, get yourself out, funds now in the mass. Roll your firecracker under the mattress of the chemistry lab, while your neighbor slips a pair of scissors in a plug for blown fuses. Most of those who are silent do not experience much, those who talk too much, especially their emotions, conspecifics tired. Persevere with alcohol, it is a matter of practice. Your valve is Saturday evening, and not before, although it catch up in the skull. Cheating on your age to get in box. You do a lot more than your 13 years. Put yourself drunk. This morning, your guy told you it was called the "pedophile". Listen

metal shutters at the bottom, your room lit by 118 candles with wax dripping onto the shelves. Make your mother cry. Be wise. Spit your rage. Bump your tray. If you have no control over your emotions, your need to defer control over the food. Lose 6 kilos in 6 months. The resume in a week. Cleans the bowl well before leaving. Sport is for the idiots brainless. Sport is the escape from suffering. Discipline your body being unable to close your mouth on command. I hate my period. Yet a control which I would like to get rid of. Anyway I never wanted to be a girl is too cumbersome. Choose

death. Read and reread Camus. Beat a retreat to your room soon after dinner to burn your unhappiness teenager on the front of your left forearm. Back up your sleeves for weeks. (...) "

Beetle

To read the rest and the end of this text click HERE .

Shuffleboard Building Plans

When the snow and wind

New ticket to discover http://www.voircicontre.fr/cuisine/

you soon,

The Bottom Of My Heel Is Numb

Life in brief, 7 and 8 by Viviana Salome and Thierry V.

Democratic Republic of France

Notice to the public

Aprèsdes years of struggle and with the support of each of you, our wholesome ForcesIntérieures just won a decisive victory :

Desire, that scourge of humanity, died tonight .

The Hommenouveau, freed of its impulses, is void.

Lacopulation, a relic of primitive times, is now banned.

Unepeine of flogging as provided by law and punish offenders.

theRepublic Democratic France can now join the puissanteConfédération Free Worlds.

Done Apara, May 4, 2031

Leport government spokesman

JamesHaibander

(LFL : Viviana Salome)

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FranciscoPoncherello.

the occasion of a interview, Francisco Poncherello laquestion answered, "How would you finish? "With a terse" In catalogued'exposition.

From the past of the artist, we know that few things: a enfanceennuyeuse Basel, surrounded by a father and a navvy mèremaniaco-depressive, before his flight to 17 years for New York, where he auraittravaillé street juggler as a cook in a restaurant or Puerto Rico. Ilrejoint in 1992 the School of Visual Arts, where his first exhibition estremarquée. For Copulation, the artist took a picture of dozen followers detraders of sadomasochism, having them pose in front of their screens THE WORKING, ball gag in his mouth.

Back in Europe in 2002, connects the expositionscontroversées Poncherello in many countries, including that of 2012 in France: Population0. he dissolves during the last floor of the Centre Pompidou enpaysage post-apocalyptic world, where actors, disguised as Michel Drucker etMireille Mathieu, growled and wandered among the many parts del'artiste only consist of detritus painted in the colors of drapeaufrançais.

If the artist has passed away last June 23 after 55 years uneexistence stirred, it is only the occasion of his posthumous exhibition nousapprenons officially dead. His lawyers have blocked all tentativesd'annonces so that his assistants are doing Poncherello dernièresvolontés. October 31, begins his final exhibition at the Palais de Tokyo: Toutesmes guts. According to very precise instructions to the artist, his corpsdémembré and recomposed in various works is exposed. For example Flagellation: sliced his heart is put into a plexiglass cube, bathed in red sequins, while at his side, a folk singer connects acoustic covers of CatStevens. The rest is just as wisely Poncherello dansl'exposition disseminated. Note that the last room offers a series of works "àemporter, soberly titled Kebab . The remains of the artist in several sontprésentés pitas the most beautiful effect, simply surrounded dequelques fries convincing. We wish to clarify to what collectors chips, made in a synthetic resin, are not edible.

Thierry V.

Sweet 15 Masquerade Invitations

Chronicle of a Death again: Gabrielle Wittkop, The Death of C.

Stephano della Bella Dance of Death 2

"Death has a Hundred Hands and walks A Thousand Ways "(TS Eliot, Murder In The Cathedral )

Christopher D., who has dedicated Gabrielle Wittkop The Necrophile in 1972, was assassinated in Bombay in 1975. This tragic and mysterious is the origin of this mesmerizing novel that catalyzes the fascination about her death and love. C. The death of the man she loves, is the subject of this strange autopsy of a murder; single event, it is inscribed in a never-ending cycle of constant renewal of a criminal act, renewal Perpetual currently empty singular body of his mind and degrades to an object.

Is tirelessly to relive the death to better understand, or to deny it? Consider its various manifestations, appearances, avatars to pierce the mystery, or rather to make it thicker? The death of C. is captured in all its horror, in its corporeality: the organs are affected, all put to the destructive act of a stranger, the flesh decays immediately, thins, pours in a deliquescence Instant

blade pierces clothing C., pierces the skin, penetrates the wall fat in the muscle wall. It breaks through the peritoneum, immersed in the liver, slice the round ligament and then made two U-turns on itself, upper right axis, upper left axis, destroying the liver tissue in its path, reducing it into a porridge brown and black. The blade runs again, angrily, before leaving the wound with a hiss mat, and to return to his master, still warm blood of C. The

body sags, consciousness fades after a last gasp: C. does not die, he seeks help, or is hospitalized, or comforts her killer. The abuser offers different faces: beggar giton, friend ... The story plays on the contrast between violence and repetition: the death of C. is a piece played to infinity, the tiny variations, with subtle nuances. It transforms the living, which dramatizes the moments immediately preceding.

The "departure violent but abandoned secret" is staged; different actors are nameless, designated only by initial: A, B, C, as in a crime story. This dramatization crystallized the paradox of any death, personal catastrophe and common destiny. Thus, regardless of the actors' faces. Only those of C. is outlined by successive close-ups:

The smile of C. - Mouth tender and strong and soft and raised to the right, mouth line enough and child, sometimes with a little distortion when he speaks - the smile of C. swells, throbbing. It has small teeth.

A Through this draft portrait expresses the tenderness of Gabrielle Wittkop: the beloved remain fragments, traces of bright moments. What remains of C: a photograph, described with loving attention to detail, careful attention to detail:

example image melancholy that the right profile, the neck gown whence the disorder of a cashmere shawl designs occupy a whole, standing out clearly against a wall plastered from clear. The hair of a dark blond looks almost brown, it is moved from the top Head towards the temples and forehead, in the Roman manner. C. wears a beard as a necklace, in a fall disillusioned, the angle of the mustache joined as the articulation of a mask. C. took off his glasses but you can still see the tiny pressure above the nose. The eye seems darker blue that is full of wisdom, resignation and lips also skeptical lenient. And, in the texture of the cheek in the crook of your neck, as heralding an end: distress.

Stephano della Bella Dance of Death 5

The image of living a destiny prefigured: replay of this photograph records the existence of C. in a tragedy, as the chronicle of a death foretold. The mere mention of C. as the living is its role in Murder in the Cathedral TS Eliot, but as that of Thomas Becket, his destiny is to die a violent death. Thus, death is staged in a maze of moments lived, imagined, fantasized, told. The story provides views of the actors and variables, the absence of direct evidence indicating that the truth is inaccessible, no assurance can be made to this death some meaning. The only evidence is the impossibility of finding C. outside of moments frozen in memory: a process, the flash of a smile ... The establishment operated through the assumption replaces the existing relationship, the only way to prolong the contact, but it also included this disaster in a form of denial of death. The multiple narratives of the death of C. confer immortality, that of words, phrases, of the literary work. More a reflection on the death of a loved one, the story is meant by way of explaining the inexplicable, to freeze the fugitive, to build from nothing. Death lies beyond any sacred. No hope of survival that accompanies meditation is not, strictly speaking, but rather an attempt to experience things, to feel through words.

Holbein Danse Macabre

Writing replaces the experience of the darkest mysteries of life. Gabrielle Wittkop evokes roaring darkness of death evoked by stifling the light Jakob Wassermann in Caspar Hauser or the laziness of the heart : "In der Nacht sitzt das auf der Lampe und Finstere brüllt" death of C. (Christopher / Caspar) resonating strangely with that of the mysterious stranger in Nuremberg. Spiegelschrift , mirroring ... Words creep into the cracks of the inaccessible. "Life is lost in death, the rivers into the sea and the known into the unknown. Knowledge is the access the unknown. The nonsense is the result of each possible "(Georges Bataille, Inner Experience ). Thus, for the words operates an attempt to know the unknowable, and the entire work of Gabrielle Wittkop part of an existential quest, that of giving meaning through death to life.

Gabrielle Wittkop, Death C. , Vertical Editions / Le Seuil, 2001

Herold And Kumar Bottomless

Edwood tames Harpies ... Gabrielle Wittkop between fantasy and cruelty.

Introducing the new article by Christophe and Martinez waited on a work of astonishing Gabrielle Wittkop: Perpetual Almanac Harpies.

Discover: The Almanac of perpetual harpies at Patrick Henry Gabrielle Wittkop Publisher Collection of Ether Wave (1995)

Too Much Wine Cause Heart Palpitation?

Life in brief, 5 and 6 and BF Zelapin (Ex. No. 16)

proposals fall like obituaries Gravelotte. Then I published two by two ...
Thank you all
Mar (c) tin

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etorphelines Widows?

MarcelMélot alas no longer. Alas, never again do we find him
its women, prodigal, he brought in the time of copulation,

Auxplaisirs ineffable, tirelessly, without design population.
We shall see, never Also, we hardcore fans,
knew it bluntly transported easily even to the seventh heaven.

Concoctonsun tribute, my sisters, the man who made us so beautiful

Qued'autres vibrated the urgent desire to exercise their lust,

Dejou shamelessly our libidos heightened by her exquisite fervor

Toutimpatients impose many whims tinted obscene arrogance

Infligeantflagellations and other vile treatment, but their ardor,

Loind'égaler that of Marcel, our bodies abandoned in frustration,

Saddened, diminished by these deplorable uses, lack of affection,

DeCeTe affection Marcel distributed to all with equal passion.

sommesaffligées We certainly ... strongly that we are delivering!

BF

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Ils'en went ...

Estall The result, surprising us all time and has failed to show her that everyone larancune he was held.

He left and took off his rirechevalin his inimitable pronunciation in which words such as population, flogging sounded like copulation and fellatio.

Off aussil'éclat carmine his face after a meal and chin glistening with grease, Sneeze, characteristics that met luiavaient the nickname Spitfire for the dragon of self.

Away now in the corridors this parfumcomplexe, blending the fragrances unexpectedly sophisticated hauteparfumerie the most trivial ones and sportswear forgotten in the bag.

How many months before the personnelféminin shivering stops in front of the elevator, no longer having to worry about having to "slam it in two"?

All our happiness, will we keep enmémoire cohesion he has built against him?

Do not forget. It is through our moqueriesqu'il remain present.

Zelapin

Ammonium Sullfate And Phopshate Bufeer

How I gained my life (in / of) writing, 4

4 th episode: Family Series (1993-1996)

In 1993 when I left my medical practice etme am to write and translate for a living, I have lived with PJ-floor of a large house in disused part (the first étageétait unoccupied). We but a television antenna that gave toitne blurred images and content channels, frankly, not much interested nenous. We invested in a multi excellentmagnétoscope. At the time, when I went to Paris, I passaistoujours time in the radius films Fnac rue de Rennes magasinVirgin or the Champs Elysees. When we were not too broke, I bought desclassiques American film VOST and sometimes imported movies in NTSC Palou.

I have no particular taste for luxury produitsde in any form whatsoever. The cars, clothes, shoes Watches and prices mean nothing to me, I do not practice isno expensive sport and I prefer a good movie or an evening with friends at a restaurant in unrepas side - and since I live with PJ, I eat without needing trèsbien from home. My only luxuries, since bientôtvingt years, are my tools: books (many books), cassettes and DVDs and computers with which I write. Since monarrivée in Montreal, my main computer was so far the iMac in my office who setrouve at CREUM. At home I was working up these dernièressemaines on a tiny laptop, to which I added a keyboard and screen ungrand. As I recently received the second part of my on-hold for The Invisibles, I am resolved - Nonsan strong pressure from PJ - to acquire ... a IMac same THE BUREAU. (It reminds me that I must tell how I Passed PC to Mac, but that's another story.) And, of course, I ordered deslivres and DVDs. This morning at CREUM a package waiting for me. It contenaittrois pounds ( The End of Eternity by Isaac Asimov, I wanted to read in English forty years after the collection Ludan Presence of the Future , Denoël; Sperm Wars deRobin Baker and The Red Queen MattRidley of two books on the evolution of sexuality) and DVD Castle, The Complete First Season -series comedy police like we did in the 40s, although Franceaussi in America.

fact remains that during the years when thebright lived at 109 Rue Ambroise Pare in Le Mans, in a house that plustard disappeared with the small park and gardens from which it étaitplantée we have not watch television. We watched movies - ethnos children into the habit of watching rather than VOST filmsdoublés (which does not prevent them from keeping a low for the VF The Princess Bride - Hey! Encoreune anecdote he will I said - or that of Back to the Future). When I started working at larédaction of Mission: Impossible, dontj'ai mentioned in the previous episode, I of course reviewed the entire series, grâceaux tapes of my co-author, Alain Carrazé, who had Inthe replay any recorded loop on the 5, the Franco-Berlusconi années80 and M6, which had resumed.

Through PJ and Helen Oswald j'aiégalement met another critical series, Christopher Petit. Rémoisd'origine, Christophe was created and animated to what remains the first (probably the best etsans) journal devoted to the fictions of TV Series Generation. He published with unerigueur an extraordinary dedication and persistence, despite lesdifficultés he met, the news, files on series ancienneset news, episode guides, interviews with actors and deproducteurs both French and British or American. Once we met, we devenusamis. I remember going home, perhaps after the presentation dulivre Reims in a bookstore, and saw on its shelves, cassettesde series Star Trek The Next Generation ( ST: TNG , 1987-94) . I was a fan beyond the original series, and I do not know this first spin-off, which began AEtre videos available in PAL, Great Britain. Very generously, Christopher offered me the loan. I had done well to buy multi unmagnétoscope!

For PJ and I, I entered the world of sériesreste intimately linked to the arrival of twins, our first child together. Qandil are born in late 1993, Mission: Impossible had just been published. Over the following months, when they seréveillaient night, while PJ was breastfeeding one, I was donnerle bottle to the other (and sleep) before an episode of ST: TNG . And a general viewpoint, writing the series by 8 livresconsacrés ^e Art remains bound to our children more grands.L summer when I finished writing Mission: Impossible, we had to leave spend a week in Britain, the five children, pregnant twins PJ and I, with the C25 to 9 seats which nousavions bought used in a holiday home they had promised Denous lend. At the last moment, people who we had promised (demanière somewhat unexpected and altogether unreliable) called us saying she pournous was no longer free. We could not afford to rent unemaison holiday. We were stuck at home. The blow was hard, with far asthe we managed with difficulty to negotiate with our respective ex this week for family vacations coïncideavec PJ who, working in an office communautéurbaine, do not choose their dates. To deal constructively noscinq monsters (the four oldest had at the time between 12 and 10, fifth andTHE four), I took advantage of the work I had done on Mission: Impossible writing unépisode unpublished. The children knew the series, of course: I avaisregardée enough with them that they have entered the springs, lesfigures imposed, the pivotal moments. And fortunately, they could, euxcinq reconstitute the original cast! Melanie became Cinnamon Pierredevint Jim, JB became Rollin, Thomas became Barney, Paul became Willy.J wrote it with them Mission: Impossible, Junior and, thanks to a video camera loaned by friends, celadevint a Short Film 20 minutes in which I play ... the role of villain .

The close relationship between our children and Montravail the series did not end there.

late 1993, just before the birth of twins, MPJet I were made to find a house big enough for accueillirune family of nine. Our seniors do not live with us always, but always spent their weekends and vacations at half nousensemble (it was they who had asked at the outset) and we knew qu'ilsfiniraient grow up. At 109 Rue Ambroise Pare, they lived together in dorm-room unegrande where Melanie had a bed and a corner She quatregarçons and bunk beds. But when they were teenagers, we savionsqu'ils would need a separate room. So we were looking unemaison large enough so that everyone has his room. After visitéun many homes that do not correspond at all to our needs (which were yet very precise, but it seems that many agentsimmobiliers do not listen to what people tell them) we finished partrouver, just by random house we needed. She had a jardinpas very big, but enough, many rooms and an attic, and, on the ground floor, a small office. After seeing, PJ and I watched noussommes saying: "That will be the lounge detélévision. Chairs (especially the one on which to watch our enfantss'entassaient The PrincessBride or The Incredible Shrinking Man) on one side, TV on the other, it'd be perfect.

We have moved into the house in June, 1994 with our twins for six months and five brothers and sisters but a seulcoup, relationships with television have changed.

Our new house was in a ruecâblée. I immediately subscribed to the local ISP, among other quidiffusait Canal Jimmy, Serie Club, Teva, three channels proposanten VOST recent series of high quality. For several years, Canal Jimmy (including Alain Carrazé was advisor for acquisitions, there is no chance) étaitdevenue chain's flagship in the series. After The Larry Sanders Show and Dreamon , two comedies produced by HBO, it began in July 1994 (ALMS our installation!) dissemination of a detective series broadcast by Ducommun off ABC since last fall: NYPD Blue (NYPD Blues ). A few years later, it would know that would Jimmyencore My So-CalledLife ( Angela, 15 years ) Profit , Six Feet Under, The Sopranos a French public still virgin but I'll talk about it later.

When we settle into the nouvellemaison, children begin to look suggest that the channels. And show mele. Every Saturday, M6, they watch a series called (inFrench) Quantum Leap, I trouveun little namby-pamby. I spoke to Christophe Petit, who tells me that I metrompe is a very good series, I must give him a chance (I must clarify the truth he had to do the same thing with ST TNG because lesdeux first episodes he had lent me convinced I had not, fortunately, he insisted, and fortunately I had relied). Christophe has sent me several tapes containing episodes I discovered that I ratéset Quantum Leap (1989-1993) is indeed an excellent series, unpeu served by the VF, but intelligent, funny, moving and engaged. Grâceau pretext of time travel, the hero, Sam Beckett (the choice of nomn'est no accident) that we explore a method combining comedy and drama, throughthe eyes of everyday characters, social history etculturelle United States during the second half of the twentieth century, anticipating what will be ten years later on a more somber excellent Cold Case (2002-2009). With mesenfants and Christophe Petit, CodeQuantum became the first contemporary series to which I devote unlong article published by GénérationSéries , and accompanied by a guide full episodes.

Meanwhile, in 8eArt, fight continuait.Avant publishing Mission: Impossible, PJ Oswald and Helen invited me to contribute to nouveauxouvrages they prepared with authors and accomplices usual Lamaison: Carrazé Alain and Christophe Petit, but also Jacques-Jacques Baudou etJean Schleret. Colleagues and friends for a long time, critics etgrands connoisseurs of SF and crime fiction, and Baudou Schleret déjàpublié had two books in 8eArt remarkable, and today the French publishing inégalésdans: Murder playoff (1990), devoted the detective series and soap operas historical télévisionfrançaise (1992). Baudou had also signed with Philip Ferrari unouvrage reference on the British series Destination: Danger (1991). In 1995, the magnificent publieraientégalement Wonderful, fantastic and science-fiction on French television. Meanwhile avecAlain and Christopher, they would prepare four new volumes pourl'éditeur: The Great Sériesaméricaines (two volumes) , British and French. The last volume, unfortunately, parutjamais due to the disappearance of the publisher 8eArt in 1996, but Jesus enlisted to participate in three others.

During the years 1993-1997, the critical sériesne was not really a lucrative business. The Eighth Art vivaientmal editions, and when the authors were paid for their texts, ilsétaient modest. We knew it and accept it because there was then no other place to write something intelligent about a kind presqueunanimement despised by critics and the French press.

I earned my living primarily by translating (jel'ai narrated above) but spend his life translating books intérêtinégal nothing exciting. Watch series (sometimes with mesenfants, sometimes with MPJ, sometimes alone) to derive the original texts, was both a trigger and a stimulus important. I remember m'êtreun day sitting in front of an episode of ST: TNG and myself felt guilty deregarder series when PJ had started to back behind me. When I lifted mesuis after turning off the TV in the middle of the episode, she said "You're going to write something about the series, right?" (I had, indeed, write an article for Generation Series. ) "Uh, yes ..." Then voustravaillez. And myself during that time, I'm English. " (Lescassettes Christophe VO were not subtitled.) And she forced me àm'y recover.

During those years, for my collaborations auxtrois large volumes of series, I revisited many series anciennesque I had not seen completely or not at all ( The Twilight Zone, The Outerlimits, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, The Wild, Wild West, The Man from UNCLE, Get Smart!, ) and sériesbeaucoup latest dating from 80 but released in France seulementdepuis the appearance of ORTF monopoly after 1986: Hill Street Blues, Wiseguy, One Dream, etbien others.

Being subscribed to Canal Jimmy and Series Clubm'a also given access, long before the media got entichent, sériesqui to remain unknown, such NYPD Blue and others which were declined nauseum, as Friends (1994-2004).

This is not an ordinary experience of having watched almost Friends live avecseulement few months gap between the release in the U.S. and in ladiffusion VOST on Jimmy.

The NBC comedy was the first to be diffuséesimultanément five French channels at least (Jimmy, Canal +, France 2, AB1 and RTL9!). She was also the first series to be uneimmense popularity among young adults, as to give rise to special dessoirées in pubs or clubs. She also had the honor of Étrelles first series whose videos have sold more qu'enVF VOST, several years before the advent of DVD and democratization.

When Friends began broadcasting on Jimmy in 1996, our seniors were between 13 and 15 they looked Ansett series assiduously during his early years, then as far up the Deloin end of its distribution, which lasted 10 years. It is by hearing my kids say, enrevoyant an early episode of Friends adulthood, I became aware of something that no one avaitjusque is noted and emphasized, at least in France (I the opportunity fairedans books later, in early 2000): sériestélévisées, whether soap operas of the day or night hebdomadairesdu series, are only fictions dontles actors and characters vieillissenten same time as their audience . The result is a conniving, and familiarity uneproximité nepeut that arise in any other form of fiction.

Another series, of course, totalementbouleversé me when I saw the pilot episode, in 1995. Alain Carrazé, quil'avait obtained from one of its correspondents in the United States, had sent me enme saying that it might be interesting and surely he wanted to know what j'enpensais.

was a TV movie of 75 minutes (90 minutes withthe pub). It began in the dark. In the foreground, an elongated type. Ausecond plan, a door opens a little and suddenly a nurse apparaît.Elle harangue the elongated type, it speaks of a patient departs. It revientquelques seconds (actually, two hours) later, saying he doitse up ...

Thus began ER (Emergency , 1994-2009). And these series would have a huge influence on the novel j'étaisen writing.

(To be continued ...)

March © tin

Bonus: You would have liked to see Mission : Impossible, Junior ? Maisil to do was ask! The video has been reassembled and remixed fifteen years later by "Rollin ', became a sound engineer and Brice, mate" Cinnamon "and editor of training. CLICK HERE.