9/11... again

I always commemorate the anniversary of 9/11. I am doing it this year again with this post, although I don't write long posts about it. From my thoughts and memories about it, read this post from 2008 and that post from 2009. However, I will say one of thing of what happened in the USA since. On the 11th of September 2001, democracy in the West and in the USA in particular was attacked. Islamic fundamentalism showed its ugly nihilistic head. Sadly, nowadays democracy in the US is falling apart, not because of an alien force of Islamifascists, like almost a quarter of of a century ago, but because of the Xian fascists who took power. So yeah, I am feeling a tad cynical and gloomy today, thinking about it.

Fragments of 9/11

 Today is the anniversary of 9/11. I always commemorate it on the blog.I once used to blog about deeper stuff, when I started blogging in fact, and I gave this date a lot of thoughts back in the days, As you can read in this post from 2008 and that post from 2009. In the latter, I said that I remembered the most trivial thing about it. What I ate that evening for instance: shepherd's pie, or pâté chinois as we call it, with beetroots on the side, and a chocolate cake for dessert, which my mum made as a goodbye treat because I was going back to England a week or two later. I remember reading the morning newspapers and just stopping, because it felt absurd to read old news. I went to the bar that night, but did not get drunk. I discussed this with my wife a few days ago: she was then living at her parents' house, she had walked the family dog and in the park where she walked, she saw people doing tai chi, which she thought was a strange activity to do in a park. Then she walked home and she learned the news. That night, she thought that if the terrorist attack had not happened, she would have thought the 11th of September 2001 to be a day like just any other. Now she remembers these people doing tai chi. And I find it strange and a little bit eerie that for so many people this date in history has been crystallised like this, with every single trivial detail of their day forever in their memory.

9/11 and now

Today is the 22nd anniversary of 9/11. I have not forgotten. I will try to remain short, as I often blogged about it and I don't know if I can add all that much to what I have already said in the past. For my observations about this fateful day, please read this post from 2008 and this one from 2009. They are still the posts I am most proud of in all my years of blogging. Otherwise, there might be one thing that is worth adding: I find it tragic and often infuriating that nowadays, the United States is struggling with another sort of religious fundamentalism, not islamist this time, bu Christian, and that it brought its own homegrown domestic terrorism. Because I challenge anyone to tell me what is the intrinsic difference between a a MAGA supporter and/or a Christian fundie and an Islamist. No, cosmetic differences don't count.

9/11

I almost forgot that today is the 21th anniversary of 9/11.  I will be brief this year, or at least I hope to be. Read this post from 2008 and this one from 2009. They are from a long time ago, when I was much younger, nevertheless I am still very proud of them and I consider them my best posts. Youcan also read my posts from 2011, 2012 and 2013. As for my current state of mind, you can read my post from 2021. Sometimes I wished we still lived in the nineties.

9/11, 20 years after

Today is the 20th anniversary of 9/11. The terrorist act that truly kickstarted the century and the millenium. Our share of Apocalypse, so to speak. For my own experience and my reflection on 9/11, I recommend that you read this post from 2008 and this one from 2009. In my years of blogging, they are the posts I am most proud about. I am thinking about twenty years ago and I am worried about how things might turn out in the future, because I feel like little has been done. I'm glad Bin Laden got killed, but Islamofascism is still very storng indeed. Maybe worse, in the US they are stuck with their own brand of talibans in the guise of Christian fundamentalism. Now these fundies existed before 9/11, but they grew stronger due to the attacks of twenty yers ago. So yes, I'm worried and disappointed about the human race.

About Afghanistan

I found this meme online and I thought it was very funny. I was wondering what to say about the Talibans taking over Afghanistan again, or indeed if I should say anything at all. And I thought this meme truly said it all. It was the most eloquent one. So this is all I'm going to say about Afghanistan. There are so many specialists about it, all of a sudden, I might as well not add into it.

Another year of 9/11

It is a sad anniversary, but every year I commemorate it on Vraie Fiction. So it is the 19th anniversary of 9/11. I have very little to say apart from mentioning it, and as usual poiting you to my post of the previous years: from 2008 and from 2009 especially as I am very proud of them. My posts from 2011, 2012 and 2013 you may also find appropriate to read today. In a year of pandemic, a few (some who were too young then perhaps?) may find the actions of the terrorists almost trivial in scope, but let's not forget that the vicious murder of so many innocent lives to religious fanaticism is also the symptom of a disease that is still sadly a threat to us all.

18 years of 9/11

Today is the 18th anniversary of 9/11. When the new century in which we live in truly started, in blood, fire and death and history was made and more importantly lived. I will not say that I remember it like it was yesterday, that would be a cliché, but I do remember it vividly. I guess it is difficult to avoid commonplaces when one talks of such event. For my own experience and my reflection on 9/11, please read this post from 2008 and this one from 2009. They are the posts I am most proud of of all my years as a blogger. Talking of years, 18 is, in man's age, the one when he reaches maturity. I know at least one child the daughter of my friends (the big sister of my godson), who was born late in August and was actually on the 11th of September. Strange to think of her as an adult, stranger to think of her as having spent the first weeks of her life among the chaos and horror of that time. Thankfully and of course, she was oblivious to it. And on a sadder note, I don't think we matured much as a species, if at all, since the 11th of September 2011.

9/11

I hope I am not the only one who remembered the date today, although I must confess, after seventeen years, while the memory is very vivid, I have little to say apart from the fact that I remember it like it was yesterday. In the end, talking of your memories of that day end up like spouting clichés. I always commemorate the date on Vraie Fiction. Please read my posts from 2008 and 2009, which I consider among the best blog posts I ever published. I have nothing more to say about this.

Who else remembers?

It seems that everybody forgot, from what I can tell from my news feed. Well, I did not, even though I did not think all that much about it. Maybe now that we live in constant fear of Islamist terrorism, 9/11 seems rather tame, maybe grief softens when crime becomes history. This year again, I will invite my readers to read what I wrote in 2008 and 2009. I am quite proud of these posts.

Devil of a State

As we are still celebrating the 100th year of the birth of Anthony Burgess, my favourite writer, and as it is summer here, I thought I would make a summer read suggestion about one of his lesser known novel, Devil of a State. That it sounds like an essay about the result of UK's last elections is just a happy coincidence. The state in question is the fictitious Dunia in Africa. Muslim country run by a Caliph, the story is set on in the time before the opening of the new mosque. The (anti)hero is British passport officer Francis Lydgate, accidental bigamist, father of children from an African mistress/concubine, lost in the chaos of post colonial Africa. Tensions and struggles between Europeans, Australians and the native population, between a fallen British Empire and a country not ready but eager for independence, between all sorts of political ideologies and races, make for a hilarious dystopian tragicomedy. You also have two Italian marble workers, father and son, also in conflict, beer drinking in the mosque, rumors of head shrinking in the jungle, an uranium mine, religious zealotry of all faiths, this is a dense book and truly a devil of a state.

And now Manchester...

I am sick and tired of this! I hesitated before writing about it, I wanted to avoid clichés, commonplaces, the avalanche of empty words you probably all heard and read. But this is Manchester we are talking about and Manchester has a special place in my heart. I have only been to the city a few times, but for me it is a place of pilgrimage. My favourite writer is from Manchester. So are many English actors I admire. Some of my favourite TV series are set in Manchester. Intellectually and culturally, Manchester is for me the epitome of what is right and good about England. And there are the people. Northern, warm, friendly like they are up there. I am a Northerner from another shore, so I always felt a certain kinship with Mancunians. I have made friends with many of them through the years. And now Manchester, like many cities in the West, has fallen victim of Islamism. You know the excuses you will hear: Western decadence, the carefree appetites for life of the Brits, in this particular case young girls and teenage girls committing the unforgivable sin of going to a pop concert in a desegregated society. So to Hell with the sick, twisted pig who did this cowardly act of devotion. There is nothing else I can do but to say that I stand with all my heart with my Northern friends. This may not bring anyone solace, but if you were attacked, it is also because you are an admirable, lovable lot.

Tired of this...

You know what I'm talking about. I am sick of this. Sick of the banality that Islamic terror and murderous rampage has become, sick of the religious apologists blaming it on the sins of the West, just sick and tired of it. Thankfully nobody I know got hurt, but it was a fairly close call: one of the guys I do Krav Maga was near Westminster yesterday. In the end, he simply got home late. And at least he knows how to defend himself. When I heard the news, I thought: "this is for such eventuality that I do Krav Maga." In any case, it is chilling to know it could strike so close and that I had friend that could be affected. London seems so close sometimes.

Qu'il aille au diable...

Je suis sain et sauf, pour ceux qui s'inquiétaient. Je vis encore loin de Londres et Londres, c'est grand anyway. Je vais écrire plus longuement en anglais sur les attentats, mais je tenais d'abord à aborder le sujet dans une perspective québécoise, pour ainsi dire. Alors voici: fuck Amir Khadir. Vraiment. Parce que ce qu'il a dit aujourd'hui. Petit démagogue gauchiste qui n'a rien à envier aux petits démagogues de droite qu'il dénonce. Porteur de valises des Islamistes, même, parfois. Comme maintenant. Fuck Amir Khadir. Non mais il est-tu assez minable? Il est à la démocratie ce que l'ivrogne qui dégueule partout est au pub. Je me demandais quelle serait l'estie d'excuse cette fois-ci.

L'époque des massacres...

Vous connaissez le sujet de mon billet. Si je n'en ai pas parlé hier, c'est que c'était trop frais. Et afin de mettre fin à toute ambiguïté: mon billet d'hier avait été écrit dimanche. Je n'étais pas insensible. Je vais éviter de spéculer ici et de faire mon gérant d'estrade, sur les motivations de l'assassin notamment. Je vais simplement dire que je suis de tout coeur avec les victimes et leurs familles et que je suis dévasté et en colère de ce qui s'est produit. Et j'ai aussi je l'avoue un certain fatalisme: je crains que des cinglés sanguinaires, il y en aura d'autres au Québec. C'est l'époque: le fanatisme religieux a repris de l'ampleur, mais aussi avec lui le sectarisme et une forme particulièrement réactionnaire de racisme. Nous vivons dans l'époque des massacres et le Québec n'est pas à l'abri.

Quand la Marseillaise prend tout son sens...

Vous savez de quoi je veux parler: de l'attentat terroriste à Nice. Un autre en France, et en plein Jour de la Bastille. Je suis encore une fois dégoûté et furieux. Et comme à chaque fois je me sens très républicain et laïque, dans sa déclinaison la plus française. Parce que ce que le terrorisme islamiste tente de détruire, c'est bien cet esprit laïque et républicain de la France. Dans des moments comme ça, et malheureusement trop souvent ces dernières années, les paroles de La Marseillaise prennent tous leurs sens. Celles sur le féroces soldats qui viennent égorger fils et compagnes. Et le refrain qui exhorte les citoyens à prendre les armes et d'abreuver les sillons de sang impur, il me semble moins un appel à la violence qu'un acte de légitime défense. Alors à tous les Français, ceux que je connais et ceux que je ne connais pas, vive la France, vive la République.

What's the excuse, this time?

So you must all know about the terrorist attack today in Brussels. I am so sick and tired of it. I was sad and angry at the Charlie Hebdo massacre back in 2015, sad and angry at the terrorist attack in November in Paris. Now the sadness, although there, has been buried in anger, so I just feel furious. The first thing I said, learning about Islamist terrorists going at it again was: "What's their f*cking excuse, this time?" The US policy? Oh no, the attack was done in Europe. Belgium's colonial past? The difficulties of immigrants to find a place in a Western society? Capitalist exploitation? Islamophobia? I know we'll read and hear these sorry excuses from the religious right and the regressive left. Because a certain left easily betrays its principle and is blind to see said principles being trampled when the perpetrator is an Islamist. Anyway, these are my two cents: I'm furious and there's no excuse for savagery.

And I will end this post with an anecdote: today a French client told me over the phone that she hoped my friends and family were all right. It took me a moment to see that she thought I was a Belgium. Usually, I find it funny. Today it felt like tragic irony.

Italian solution/Logical solution

I might be a bit late covering the news, but I found this caricature about the recent  controversy regarding the president's of Iran's visit to Italy, where nude statues were covered so as not to offend him. I love Italy, but sometimes find this country infuriating, especially when it panders to religious puritanism. This is not only a stupid gesture, it is a cowardly one. So when I saw this caricature by Walter Leoni, I did not only laugh, I roared, with a good dash of anger. Italy can be infuriating, but so many Italians remain admirable in their criticism and mockery of stupidity.

Un an plus tard...

Nous commémorons un triste un anniversaire aujourd'hui: celui-ci. Un an plus tard, les laïques comme moi commémorent l'attentat odieux contre Charlie Hebdo, alors que certains imbéciles décident de festoyer de manière assez massacrante: un crétin affilié à l'EI a été abattu par la police française aujourd'hui en essayant de s'attaquer à un commissariat parisien. Il n'y a eu aucune victime, heureusement. Un an plus tard, je suis toujours Charlie, sans ambiguité aucune, athée, anti-religieux, laïque (je sais, je paraphrase à peine) et j'emmerde les fous de Dieu de toutes les confessions et les collabos qui ont blâmé les victimes (dont le pape). Et je publie ici la caricature de Charb que j'avais publiée lorsque j'avais appris l'attentat. Parce que l'humour et la dérision demeurent les meilleures armes contre le fondamentalisme.

La vue du Tricolore

J'ai vu ce drapeau tricolore il y a quelques jours sur la maison de la famille américaine qui fête l'Halloween en grand dans la petite ville où je vis. Ils ont toujours un drapeau ou un autre, parfois un truc bête et humoristique, parfois un drapeau pour rappeler une fête nationale ou une fête tout court. Cette semaine, c'est le Tricolore. J'aime toujours voir le drapeau français en sol anglais, mais là j'avoue que j'ai été particulièrement ému. Comme un joli doigt d'honneur aux crétins obscurantistes qui ont commis le massacre de vendredi dernier. C'est peu, ce n'est qu'un drapeau, embobiné autour de son pôle pas le vent en plus, mais ça m'a ému quand même.