Thursday, February 24, 2011

What Happens If My Dog Eats A Sanitary Pad


This morning I left early with my banner well folded in my pocket. A good half-hour tram with change, a coffee and croissant, two hours by train packed well, about ten o'clock in the morning I arrived at the station in Paris. Three quarters of an hour's subway ride later, I was hard at work, well in advance as it should when it comes from afar. It was cold! Another coffee das bar, facing a magnificent building reminiscent of the construction Todt Atlantic Wall, a huge building blocked sign "Popular Movement". I do not know if it was popular, since they would have said that there was person behind the security entrance.

cheered by the coffee, I've been waiting for other potential participants in a drink that I sensed well struck, even without ice, as the hands and feet began to cry for mercy. We saw many people who were there, but they waited, and then leaving. One or two seemed yet settle. Bums, perhaps? The tens of minutes passed, beating the pavement for warmth.

The appointment was for noon quarter to one. About eleven and a half, other fellows approaching, younger. We sniffed, one sniffs: "Are you Pôv'cons? " Yes, they are, we are. Two or three men in a corner of the square, play their roles with finesse of GR. They look really nice, as usual.
jean jac herve

We are still waiting. Quarter to twelve. Others arrive. I learned that I discuss with Hervé Eon, who had accidentally left a placard "Casse-toi pôv'con" on the presidential motorcade in Laval, in failing to put quotation marks indicating that it was a summons. News of his trial? Yes, the conviction of 30 euros is suspended in the Supreme, and will go until the European Court of Human Rights.

Journalists are there, they take some notes. One photograph, film. I stay behind, just invited a party in Paris. I especially cold, which does not make me eloquent. The organizer is late.

Finally here. Things are accelerating. Of plastic drums, a few bottles of wine are meant for unblocking it is grasped by the media, he should go and consult with the RG. ON distributes leaflets. The sign "Sarkozy emerges" is attached to a post somehow. Participants raise their glasses. They are fifty now! The atmosphere is very relaxed. Other than me coming from further afield: Gap. Jean-Jacques Reboux delivers an impromptu speech, followed by Hervé Eon reminiscent of what has been alleged. In good Norman peasant, Fernand Buron (yes, I assure you, it's him), who arrived with Jean-Jacques, say only few words. We are all pauv'cons, but he, over there, "Get out!"

The statements made in succession. Journalists interviewing, photographing, filming. Cylinders are finite. Each exchange impressions. The Elysee is there, close by, but of course inaccessible. There is France, and then there's him. Trade metaphysical, psychological, trying to identify this man who is so afraid of people, including those to the polls have still elected by a majority.
fernand buron

As was announced, the little book the interview Fernando Buron sells well, thank you. He is now in bookstores. I have since the previous week. And then we start to pick up some accessories made, the bottles ... Police officers in uniform are there, too, to avoid excesses that have obviously not taken place.

Jean-Jacques RG thank the returns for their friendly cooperation. We begin to disperse. I too thank the first RG that is there for us to have supported for over two hours.

I am the last square of the Resistance. Hervé Eon is gone, he must return to Laval. We're going in a small Italian restaurant a little further, we are still a dozen, but despite the lack of space we manage to cram all. I'm alongside Fernand Buron, and in front of Jean-Jacques. Some pastas further, a few exchanges of memories and secrets too, it separates. It is a little less cold. I get home. Fatigue is heavy. I have not slept the previous night, the excitement, no doubt.


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