Repas de Saint -Jean-Baptiste de l'exilé

Le Prof Solitaire a aujourd'hui mentionné les Québécois exilés. Il m'a enlevé les mots de la bouche. C'est comme ça que je me sens aujourd'hui. Pas seulement expatrié comme je me sens en général, mais vraiment en exil. Enfin, je fais contre mauvaise fortune bon coeur et je vais essayer de fêter notre Fête nationale dignement. Je réponds tout de suite à ma propre question existentielle: cette année ce sera des bagels au saumon fumé (avec câpres, bien entendu). La photo de gauche n'a pas été prise ici, bien entendu. On ne fait pas les bagels comme ça, ici, ils ressemblent plus à des beignes (et ils goûtent les beignes sans sucre et sans goût, en fait). La photo a été prise en 2008 et le bagel dessus vient bien sûr de Saint-Viateur. Au moins je vais avoir du bon saumon (l'Angleterre n'en manque pas), des câpres qui ont de l'allure (importées d'Espagne, sans doute comme celles que j'achèterais au Québec). La bière locale sera aussi buvable. En fait, il ne me manque qu'un bon, qu'un vrai bagel. Ironiquement, c'est ce qui me manque le plus du Québec ces temps-ci: la bouffe.

More on cosmic horror

Tonight I come back to Cthulhu and the Cthulhu mythos. For the story of the same title, you can have a very good and funny two minutes summary here. I have been in the mood for cosmic horror recently, for playing a good old game of Call of Cthulhu. I haven't done one in more than ten years and I miss it. Yesterday and today, we had two big storms in the middle of the day, with thunder and pouring rain. I love thunderstorms, I find them beautiful and dramatic. They make for lovely atmosphere when one wants to read a horror story or to play a horror role-playing game such as Call of Cthulhu.

I think it is mainly because of the atmosphere of rainy summer days that we (my brothers and friends) played Call of Cthulhu mainly during summertime. We had started in January 1994, played through springtime, then we stopped for a while, until we started again one summer night. Dungeons & Dragons was our favourite role playing game and we played it more often, but there was something about Cthulhu that D&Dr didn't have: a horrifying version of our universe, genuine terror, ordinary characters instead of epic heroes, some kind of realism, etc. And well, there was the rain and thunder. I remember closing the restaurant where I was working, which was a bit outside Chicoutimi, in the little hours in the morning. I could feel the cool air after a rainy day and the wind blowing in the trees. There was something terrifying about it, which I used in the game the next day. The stories were often set in quiet neighbourhoods or gloomy countryside. In horror, atmosphere is everything, more so than the monster in the corner. One of my players once said that the games we played made him feel chilly when he was walking through a cemetery one evening. I guess I did my job well.

Passe-moé la puck

Parce que c'est la Saint-Jean bientôt, parce que l'on n'écoute jamais assez des Colocs et parce que le hockey est parfois un sport de crétins, mais surtout parce que Passe-moé la puck est une chanson profonde, j'ai pensé la mettre ici. Julie est la première chanson des Colocs que j'ai entendue, mais je crois que c'est Passe-moé la Puck (avec peut-être La Rue Principale) qui est la meilleure de leurs jeunes années. Ce qui est tragique, c'est qu'ils n'ont jamais eu le temps de viellir.

Longing for Ireland

Sometimes I can be such a sucker. There are these adverts on TV, from Tourism Ireland, urging us to discover the country. It is really cheesy, with a violin playing a reel in the background and people enjoying Guinness and so on. (And by the way I wonder if Guinness pays to be in the advert or if they got free publicity.) Everything looks too green and too staged and does not look quite like the Ireland I remember more than ten years ago. Basically it looks like a bloody postcard. You can see for yourself here. Yet when I watch this I want to be there badly. I wouldn't mind of it was pouring rain, I will enjoy the drinks more (and even the hangovers afterwards). And I cannot help but feel baffled that advertisement works so well on me.

Question existentielle (55)

J'y ai répondu déjà pour cette année, mais j'ai songé à la poser à mon lectorat malgré tout:

-Quoi manger pour célébrer la Saint-Jean-Baptiste?

One year already

Today is the first anniversary of my current job. A year ago, I had started it, wondering what was going to happen. I was getting back in the private sector after many failed attempts to make a career in education, I was uncertain and unfamiliar about my new working environment and was very nervous. I had no idea where I would be in a year's time. To be honest, I am sometimes a bit surprised I made it to permanence.For the first six months, I felt like a fraud.

Today is much different than a year ago: there is no heatwave, I am of course familiar to the place and the work and it was just another day at the office instead of the first day. To be honest it is not my dream job, but I like it much better than I thought I would and it is maybe the best working environment I have been in. And after the disappointments and bitterness of the jobs I had before, I cannot complain.

Les saisons ne se ressemblent pas

C'est le début de l'été aujourd'hui. L'année dernière à la même date, il faisait une chaleur toute estivale. Cette année, il vente, il a plu toute la semaine dernière (mais pas aujourd'hui, ce qui est inusité) et sans faire froid c'est tout de même frais. J'ai déjà eu des mois de juins plus froids, mais j'en ai déjà vécu de plus chauds. C'est comme si, avec le mois d'avril estival qu'on a eu, il fallait maintenant devoir gérer avec un mois de juin qui prend des allures de septembre.

Ca pourrait être pire. L'été 2007 a été épouvantable ici, à toutes fins pratiques inexistant. Ca a duré jusqu'au mois d'août, où on a eu droit à quelques semaines de beau temps. Et au moins ce n'est pas jusqu'ici collant comme l'année dernière, où je n'arrivais plus à dormir. La fraîcheur amène aussi un certain confort. Cela dit, pour les changements saisonniers, il faudra repasser. J'ai moins envie de me baigner que l'année dernière.

Dying oceans

I was blogging yesterday about a role playing game named after Cthulhu, a creature that was supposed to one day get out of its oceanic sleep and take over the world to enslave mankind and destroy human civilisation. Lovecraft wrote fiction and he couldn't be further away from the truth: the oceans are actually dying. Because of human activity of course and among other things human hunger. I am going to feel guilty from now on when I eat fish and I think I might abandon my dream to become a pescetarian. I can even eat squids, see the Great Cthulhu is harmless in real life.

This kind of bad news affects me a lot: I am naturally fascinated by oceans and sea life, as my long time readers probably have noticed. Sea life, there is not much left of it sadly. So Lovecraft had it all wrong.

Préparer la Saint-Jean de l'expatrié

C'est la Saint-Jean-Baptiste vendredi, la cinquième de suite que je vais célébrer en Angleterre. Je me prépare mentalement à la fêter comme un expatrié. Pas que je fasse cela de manière particulièrement grandiose quand je suis au Québec: les grands rassemblements, très peu pour moi. Je trouve qu'il y a trop de monde pour qu'on se sente vraiment en communauté. En fait, je préfère les petites célébrations aux grandes. Je l'ai déjà dit, mes Saint-Jean ici ne sont guère différentes de celles passées au Québec. Ce qui manque et me manque, c'est le Québec lui-même. Je ne l'ai pas, sauf dans ses chansons.

Ce soir, j'ai mangé des fraises, qui sont ici comme au Québec en saison (pour une fois elles ne goûtent pas le plastique, cela dit elles ne valent pas les fraises de l'Île). Vendredi je vais trinquer, mais pas avec de la bière québécoise. Je vais manger (bagels? poutine?), mais pas des produits du terroir. Je vais passer ma soirée à écouter de la musique, qui elle sera typiquement québécoise. Il en faut bien un peu.

In the mood for some cosmic horror

The geeks among you probably know what I am referring to in the title. I read this post on the Atheist Experience's blog, and it just got me in the mood for some Call of Cthulhu game. While Dungeons & Dragons has always been our favourite role playing game and the one we played the most, Call of Cthulhu had a special place in my heart (and I hope, theirs).As I mentioned before, it was our "end of summer game". In fact, it was mainly or "rainy day" game, we played it from May until August, usually when my brother was not inspired enough for D&Dr. I was the Game Master for Cthulhu, a pretty good one I think. I could create interesting atmosphere and characters, in an universe that was like our own (which is challenging in itself). And it was set in the 1920s, so there were an historical background and elements of crime fiction thrown in which made it all the more interesting.

And well, I don't know, I wouldn't mind a game or two.

La Fête des Pères

C'est la Fête des Pères, je ne savais pas si j'allais la souligner parce que je ne savais pas comment la souligner. Et puis aujourd'hui j'ai lu la chronique de Richard Martineau là dessus. Et ça m'a frappé, j'ai su comment aborder le sujet. Outre que Martineau a raison, qu'on a tendance à montrer les activités pères/fils comme une succession de parties de baseball et de parties de pêches, ça m'a rappelé que mon père, même s'il pêche et chasse (les seuls sports qu'il ait vraiment pratiqués je crois), a surtout contribué à mon développement intellectuel. La pêche m'ennuie en général (même si j'aime le poisson) et, si j'ai chassé la perdrix avec lui, je crois que j'effrayais le gibier. Mes parents m'ont donné le goût de la lecture et je n'ai jamais eu à m'en plaindre. Alors c'est mon anecdote/contribution pour souligner la Fêtes des Pères.

Japa Dog

Warning: absolutely trivial post ahead. This is a Japa Dog, which I tried and enjoyed in Vancouver. A japa dog is basically a hot dog with Japanese kind of condiments: seaweed, teriyaky sauce, Japanese mayo, soy sauce, plum sauce, etc. I wonder if they have it in Japan or if it is pure Western exoticism. It tastes weird but delicious. I had it only once, but it was memorable. Maybe it is because of the recent riots in Vancouver, but I started thinking about them again and I am in the mood for one. It is one of those little attractions that makes this city different and very Easternised.

Se sentir plutôt casanier

Juin n'en finit plus de ressembler à autre chose qu'à l'été. Alors qu'avril était estival, depuis le début de juin on dirait que l'été ne veut pas commencer. Il fait frais et il pleut. Alors je reste enfermé toute la fin de semaine ou à peu près, je sors dès que le temps est un peu plus sec et ensoleillé (il y a des limites à aimer marcher sous la pluie). Et je n'ai pas lu dehors depuis le début du mois, ce qui me désole un peu.

Vancouver, a riot and a kiss

I blogged a few days ago in French about the recent riots in Vancouver, caused by stupid, over excited hockey fanatics because their team had lost the Stanley Cup (in the seventh game!). I was both baffled because I love Vancouver as a city, but almost relieved to see that the citizens of a great city can be just as thick as us Montrealers. The Habs partisans did smash things down and behaved like hooligans too, but in our case it was when the team had won. Try to understand this for a minute. You can't? Neither can I. That is why I don't care about hockey too much anymore, and never got into football here: team sports just make people thick. It is one thing to love a team and want them to win, it is another to think they are any good or think they deserve to win against a better team.

And there was this picture released, about this young couple lying down in the street, kissing, seemingly oblivious to the rioters and police around them. I first saw them on Stéphane Laporte's blog, who made this stupid comment "probably they were Boston partisans". Laporte can be clever, but when it comes to hockey his brain shuts down, just like many of my compatriots (and myself too, when I was a teenager). He shows it here with such an idiotic comment. Of course, there is a lot of speculation about the kissing couple: was she wounded, who are they (this is a mystery that now appears to be solved), was it staged, etc. From what I read it appears that it was a genuine moment of tenderness. And for some reason, this picture gives me a bit more hope in mankind.

Question existentielle (54)

Je songeais à cette récente controverse/farce sur "l'hymne national" québécois commandé par la SSJB à Râoul Duguay. Je disais que ce n'est pas comme si on n'avait pas déjà quelques hymnes nationaux officieux dans notre répertoire. On a déjà avec le Gens du Pays de Vigneault un quasi-officiel, adopté, comme tout hymne national spontanément. Cela dit, dans l'oeuvre de Vigneault, j'aurais personnellement choisi une autre chanson. D'où ma question existentielle:

-Selon vous, quelle est la chanson québécoise qui devrait être l'hymne national québécois, et pourquoi?

Walking in the rain

I have not been in Paris recently (not in nearly three years actually, not properly anyway), I just thought this picture looked right for the topic. When I went to the Eiffel Tower, it was rainy and miserable. It has been raining a lot these last two days, a miserable rainy summer day. Sometimes I feel that there is nothing quite as rainy as a rainy day in June. I had to walk back from work in the pouring rain and it was surprisingly enjoyable. I don't like being wet, but it makes me appreciate the comfort of home more. And there is something atmospheric about pouring rain.

Y'a pas grand-chose dans le ciel à soir

En fait il pleut beaucoup ce soir, mais bon, c'est la Saint-Jean-Baptiste bientôt (dans une semaine!)et il faut bien québéciser ce blogue un peu. Je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais Y'a pas grand-chose dans le ciel à soir est une chanson que j'associe au vendredi et aux beuveries excessives. Je ne vais pas boire excessivement ce soir (la semaine prochaine, peut-être), mais cette chanson calme un peu mon mal du pays... Et puis je ne mets pas assez de Paul Piché sur ce blogue.

Nightmare, shadow and bogeymen

For those like me who sometimes feel that Halloween is not coming soon enough, here is a little post which I hope will be frightening. I mentioned it a bit before. A bit more than a week ago, I had a nightmare about an old man wearing a dark coat. He was a tall old man, with a malevolent face, following me around. He looked a bit like l'Ankou. He was keeping a distance when I was walking home and watching me from outside when I was looking out of the window. There was even mentions in my dream of Jungian archetypes (I think I got this from Batman Begins). I asked a psychoanalyst or a psychologist or some sort of therapist if anyone had ever met a physical Jungian archetype, he grinned evilly and he turned into the old man, but this time he was more bat-like. It was very scary when it happened, but I can't help being fascinated by it, and now remembering it I shiver pleasantly. The nightmare is a mix of many stories I read or movies I watched, and stuff I read about horror stories, the unheimlich and so on. I had an intellectual nightmare.

I can recognise in the character of my nightmare the Shadow, but also a manifestation of the bogeymen of my childhood.  My brother once had a nightmare about Lustukru, one summer night when we were children, we were so impressed by it that we wanted him to nightmare about it again and give us a sequel. Strangely enough, it didn't turn into a game. I might just try to do the same now and turn this evil old man into the bogeyman of a horror story. I have been promising myself to write my own horror story for quite a while. Nightmares inspired great horror stories, but it is difficult to bring the stuff of nightmare convincingly in this world. It is scarier when you read it.

Une émeute à Vancouver?

Je veux dire, vraiment? Dans une si belle ville? J'ai lu ce titre et je suis tombé à la renverse. Je ne me sens pas Canadian du tout, tout ce qui est coast to coast me laisse de glace, cela dit Vancouver est une ville charmante que j'ai beaucoup aimée. Je me faisais l'illusion que c'était une ville civilisée, dont la prospérité devait la rendre imperméable aux accès de rage infantile dont font preuve certains partisans, même dans la victoire. J'ai toujours aussi honte de la débile partisanerie de certains amateurs de hockey montréalais, encore plus honte de la profonde incurie d'un certain ex chef de police, mais je dois avouer, comme Richard Martineau l'a dit sur son blogue, que ça fait du bien de voir qu'il y a du monde aussi épais que nous.

Nulla dies sine linea

"Nulla dies sine linea" (No day without a line). This is a line attributed to Apelles. I first read it on a bookmark that I got from Les Bouquinistes, the bookshop in Chicoutimi (and for a long time my favourite bookshop). I loved it. It should be understood as an injunction to get something done during the day. But I think it works perfectly for a reader or any kind of writer. Including a blogger. I try to read a page or two of a real book, I also try to blog at least twice a day, one French post and one English post.

It was easier when I was unemployed, obviously I had more time. But quality was not always there. I look at my posts in 2008 and I think they were redundant or utterly uninspired. Still, when I have less time, I think it matters that I produce something and at least do some writing, exercise my brain a bit. Sure, it's not like I am writing Ulysses, but still. It matters that I muse a bit every day, that I exercise some kind of creativity, some writing discipline too, that I get read as well. So this could be the motto of this blog.