A series of unrelated thoughts on a Sunday afternoon...

It must be a reflection of the student culture in general, or else some kind of peculiar condition particular to this town like a rare disease, but I find it fascinating that, on a Thursday night, one can go to a punk rock bar, pay a 3€ cover charge, try to find a place to squeeze in among the multitudes where you can still see the stage and, hopefully, order something to drink as well...and listen to poetry. It's a poetry slam, where courageous--or indifferent--individuals stand up before the packed house and recite texts they have written themselves with a 7-minute time limit. Some of the acts were straight out of Duo-Interp from my forensics days; others were existential, some about love, others abstract almost to the absurd. One poem, written and performed by a middle-aged gentleman in a boater's hat, cargo shorts, and sandals with socks, used the word ,,Schnee" (Snow) about 4,372 times in all manner of variations which eventually elicited laughter. I can't tell if that was his intent. One guy got up and read a story about a guy, a girl, a dance, and.... we didn't hear the end because he ran out of time. One woman, claiming to be Liza Minelli, eventually got kicked off the stage because her rambling turned to raving and became, for all intents and purposes, incoherant.

As I was waiting for my friends on said evening, leaning on a railing across from said bar, an interesting-looking guy on a bike pulled up and, after much effort and some cursing, managed to turn around. He looks at me, grins (is he missing teeth or does he just not brush them?) and asks, "how are you?" Uhhh, fine, I guess... I'm being pretty distant, because I don't feel like talking to him and he's kinda strange. "Do you have a man/husband?" he asks (in German, the word Mann can refer to either males or spouses). Yes, I reply, because it's none of his business and maybe he will leave me alone.



As complement--or counterpoint?--to this, I will be marrying a Freiburger. For those of you who have visited this fine city, you may be aware of the multitude of little canals (called Bächle) running through most streets in the center of town. As legend goes, they were installed to bring fresh air to the alleys, were rumored to be open sewers and now are the playplaces of small children and amused tourists. As custom goes, anyone who steps into one of these Bächle will a) have good luck and b) marry a Freiburger. I, late for an appointment, blistering along the cobblestone streets in the rain, am confronted with an oblivious line of pedestrians who refuse to get out of my way. In avoiding them I manage to get my wheel stuck in the tram track, and in braking I fall over---into the Bächle. So, my fate is sealed and my dress is wet, but no matter and no major harm done.

Tortillas, by the way, are not the same thing in Mexico (and the US) and Spain. In North America, tortillas are round flat bits of bread, very thin, made of wheat or corn flour. In Spain, Tortillas are omelettes made with fried potatoes and sometimes tuna. And what I make, called Tortilla by some and Beignets by others, is some combination of omelette and pancake with whatever vegetables I happen to have on hand. Step 1: cook vegetables till crisp-tender. Step 2: beat eggs (3 - 5) with some flour, milk, and salt. Step 3: Add vegetables to egg mixture. Step 4: pour batter into pan and cook like pancakes/omelettes, using a pot lid to flip. Excellent way to use cooked vegetables or leftovers. Just so you know.

I've forgotten how much I love the smell of rain. I've also forgotten how long it's been since it's rained, and I miss it. It feels like summer, having a hot and humid afternoon and a soaking rainstorm, preferably with a lightning show. Best viewed with a mug of tea on the porch.

Ein grünes Blatt

Ein Blatt aus sommerlichen Tagen,
Ich nahm es so im Wandern mit,
Auf daß es einst mir möge sagen,
Wie laut die Nachtigall geschlagen,
Wie grün der Wald, den ich durchschritt.

Storm, Theodor (1817-1888) (born in Heiligenhafen)

Words from the wise(r)

A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort.
Herm Albright (1876 - 1944)

The reason we all like to think so well of others is that we are all afraid for ourselves. The basis of optimism is sheer terror.
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891

Das Glück der Liebe: sich vor dem anderen ganz aussprechen dürfen. Das Geheimnis der Liebe: vieles unausgesprochen lassen.
Sigmund Graff (1898-1979), dt. Schriftsteller u. Bühnenautor

In heaven all the interesting people are missing.
Friedrich Nietzsche

Kann man denn nicht auch lachend sehr ernsthaftig sein?
Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729-81), dt. Dichter d. Aufklärung

Americans are benevolently ignorant about Canada, while Canadians are malevolently well informed about the United States.
J. Bartlett Brebner

Amerika ist wie ein großer freundlicher Hund in einem kleinen Raum. Immer wenn er mit dem Schwanz wedelt, wirft er einen Stuhl um. (America is like a large friendly dog in a small room. Everytime it wags its tail it knocks over a chair.)
Arnold Joseph Toynbee (1889-1975), engl. Historiker u. Kulturphilosoph

Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes.
Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan, 1892, Act III

Beim Schreiben ist es wie bei der Prostitution. Zuerst macht man es aus Liebe, dann für ein paar Freunde und schließlich für Geld.
Molière (1622-73), eigtl. Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, frz. Komödiendichter u. Schauspieler

Ninety-eight percent of the adults in this country are decent, hard-working, honest Americans. It's the other lousy two percent that get all the publicity. But then--we elected them.
Lily Tomlin (1939 - )

The path to our destination is not always a straight one. We go down the wrong road, we get lost, we turn back. Maybe it doesn't matter which road we embark on. Maybe what matters is that we embark.
Barbara Hall, Northern Exposure, Rosebud, 1993

He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, Aphorism 146

Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.
Oscar Wilde

Das Leben = Das, was uns zustößt, während wir uns etwas ganz anderes vorgenommen haben.
Henry Miller (1891-1980), amerik. Schriftsteller dt. Herk.

Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee and just as hard to sleep after.
Anne Morrow Lindbergh, 'Gift From the Sea'

Das ist mein Weg, welches ist Dein Weg? DEN Weg gibt es nicht.
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900), dt. Philosoph

When you travel, remember that a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable.
Clifton Fadiman (1904 - 1999)

Sometimes the mind, for reasons we don't necessarily understand, just decides to go to the store for a quart of milk.
Diane Frolov and Andrew Schneider, Northern Exposure, Three Doctors, 1993

I'm not dumb. I just have a command of thoroughly useless information.
Bill Watterson, "Calvin", It's a Magical World

Whenever the literary German dives into a sentence, that is the last you are going to see of him until he emerges on the other side of his atlantic with his verb in his mouth.
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)

If you're here for four more years or four more weeks, you're here right now. I think when you're somewhere, you ought to be there. It's not about how long you stay in a place, it's about what you do while you're there, and when you go, is that place any better for your having been there?
Karen Hall and Jerry Stahl, Northern Exposure, Soapy Sanderson, 1990

Eine ältere Dame steht im Selbstbedienungsrestaurant in der Schlange und holt sich eine Terrine Erbsensuppe. Am Tisch stellt sie fest, daß die Wurst fehlt. Sie stellt die Terrine ab und reklamiert an der Theke. Selbstverständlich bekommt sie einen Teller mit der fehlenden Wurst. Wieder zurück, sieht sie, daß an ihrem Tisch ein Schwarzer sitzt und ihre Erbsensuppe probiert. Die alte Dame überlegt: 'Was tun?' Weil sie sich keinesfalls in den Verdacht der Ausländerfeindlichkeit bringen will, setzt sie sich zu dem Schwarzen an den Tisch. Sie zerteilt die Wurst in kleine Stücke, die sie je zur Hälfte dem jungen Farbigen in die Suppenterrine und sich in den Teller füllt. Dann holt sie sich noch einen zweiten Löffel und eine Kelle, füllt sich Suppe in ihren Teller, und beide essen gemeinsam den Erbseneintopf. Der junge Mann lacht, steht zwischendurch auf und besorgt zwei Glas Bier. Man prostet sich zu, und nach einem gemeinsamen Kaffee verabschiedet der junge Mann sich höflich. Ein wenig trauert die alte Dame ihm nach. Sie will jetzt auch gehen und langt nach ihrer Handtasche. Doch die ist verschwunden! Um Himmels willen. Ein Dieb? Nach verzweifelter Suche findet sich endlich die Tasche - am Nachbartisch. Und da steht auch die Terrine mit ihrer Erbsensuppe. Und langsam beginnt die alte Dame zu begreifen...
Unbekannt

The future of democracy Part II

MAN, n. An animal so lost in rapturous contemplation of what he thinks he is as to overlook what he indubitably ought to be. His chief occupation is extermination of other animals and his own species, which, however, multiplies with such insistent rapidity as to infest the whole habitable earth and Canada.

When the world was young and Man was new,
And everything was pleasant,
Distinctions Nature never drew
'Mongst kings and priest and peasant.
We're not that way at present,
Save here in this Republic, where
We have that old regime,
For all are kings, however bare
Their backs, howe'er extreme
Their hunger. And, indeed, each has a voice
To accept the tyrant of his party's choice.

A citizen who would not vote,
And, therefore, was detested,
Was one day with a tarry coat
(With feathers backed and breasted)
By patriots invested.
"It is your duty," cried the crowd,
"Your ballot true to cast
For the man o' your choice." He humbly bowed,
And explained his wicked past:
"That's what I very gladly would have done,
Dear patriots, but he has never run."
(Apperton Duke)

Ambrose Bierce (1842 - 1914), The Devil's Dictionary

The Road Not Taken

Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.


TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20

The future of democracy

[12:02] MeMyselfandI: I am laughably ignorant to many things about american politics
[12:02] MeMyselfandI: I just don't care, to be ohonest
[12:04] Philosopher: somehow I had that sneaking suspicion
[12:05] Philosopher: my interest is not really legislative
[12:05] Philosopher: I find american domestic politics pretty abhorrent
[12:05] MeMyselfandI: rather?
[12:05] MeMyselfandI: heh
[12:05] MeMyselfandI: me too
[12:05] Philosopher: although I'm also coming to appreciate that american domestic politics are little different than domestic politics anywhere else, let alone international politics, I just have more familiarity with the american system
[12:06] MeMyselfandI: I would disagree with the 'little different' part
[12:06] MeMyselfandI: parties play much different roles here in DE or in the UK than in the US
[12:07] MeMyselfandI: parliamentary systems work differently, there are different political areas to pay attention to
[12:07] Philosopher: I contend those are differences without distinctions
[12:08] Philosopher: I'll grant parlimentary systems produce constituencies very different than america, and that parlimentary parties work differently than american parties do
[12:08] MeMyselfandI: but?
[12:08] Philosopher: perhaps this is more ignorance on my part, but I have a very hard time believing politics is practiced honestly, justly, or well anywhere
[12:09] MeMyselfandI: I would contend that the EU plays a role in European politics that is comperable to nothing in the US
[12:09] MeMyselfandI: I would argue that politics as a whole, no. There are good examples of political bodies that function well or effectively
[12:10] Philosopher: a unique role in what way?
[12:10] MeMyselfandI: and comparing local politics with national politics is an incorrect comparison..different issues, different actors, different tools, different influences
[12:10] MeMyselfandI: well, many things are dictated from the EU
[12:11] MeMyselfandI: agricultural policy as a prominant example
[12:11] Philosopher: I can't say I've focused much attention on the EU, but my basic understanding is that it is essentially equivelent to the federal government here
[12:11] MeMyselfandI: defense is still a national issue, though there are some pan-European initiatives
[12:12] MeMyselfandI: nope
[12:12] MeMyselfandI: the federal government in the US is also completely different to that of Germany
[12:12] MeMyselfandI: the EU, insofar as it has the power in this area, may make policy
[12:12] MeMyselfandI: these are passed to the lowest communal level of all member states
[12:12] Philosopher: I mean, these are countries with millenia of unique histories and cultures, but how is the EU substantially different than very very infantile federal government here?
[12:12] MeMyselfandI: which then check if they have the capacity to implement, and if not, it gets passed up the ladder
[12:13] MeMyselfandI: because it has in many cases overlapping but not necessarily suppositionary powers
[12:13] MeMyselfandI: it dictates something like air quality standards but not how it is to be implemented
[12:13] Philosopher: such as?
[12:14] Philosopher: that still sounds like policy formation here
[12:14] MeMyselfandI: it has policy functions
[12:14] MeMyselfandI: it has no taxation function
[12:14] MeMyselfandI: its representatives are not necessarily directly elected nor directly accountable
[12:15] MeMyselfandI: in some respects it functions like the UN, with national agreement and input but not necessarily force
[12:15] MeMyselfandI: in other aspects it functions like congress, directly dictating policy
[12:15] MeMyselfandI: in others it functions like the supreme court only in cases where national policy conflicts with EU policy
[12:15] MeMyselfandI: there is, however, no EU defense council or EU army
[12:16] MeMyselfandI: there is still national sovereignty
[12:16] MeMyselfandI: and it is all still subject to wildly different national political climates--like the US; CA and TX in comparison
[12:17] Philosopher: I mean, I get that a strict comparison to say 1800-era American federal government is facile, but by and large, it sounds like they are attempting the same experiment of melding together a disparite group of states into a cohesive whole, and the active issue is the ongoing negotiation between states rights... er... national rights and federal rights
[12:18] MeMyselfandI: but EU policy areas do not presuppose national policy areas
[12:18] MeMyselfandI: and there is no concept of a cohesive whole
[12:18] MeMyselfandI: they turned down the constitution twice
[12:18] MeMyselfandI: it's a common market that grew to acquire social aspects
[12:18] MeMyselfandI: there is no EU health care
[12:18] Philosopher: well... "they" is quite misleading, especially considering who did and who did not ratify it
[12:19] Philosopher: I mean, the vast majority of countries adopted the constitution, it was two that refrained
[12:19] Philosopher: and I mean, passage of our own constitution wasn't exactly a walk in the park
[12:19] MeMyselfandI: well, without France there is no EU
[12:19] Philosopher: that's unfortunate
[12:20] Philosopher: but that is very similar to talking about the comments of SC or Penn during the continental congresses
[12:20] MeMyselfandI: I don't disagree that there are aspects of federalism there
[12:20] MeMyselfandI: but it is more a confederation than a federation
[12:20] MeMyselfandI: the EU is not just like a bigger national government
[12:21] MeMyselfandI: it is an entity of itself. a different kind of animal, if you will
[12:22] Philosopher: right
[12:22] Philosopher: but again, remember our first experiments in trans-state governance, the articles of confederation
[12:22] Philosopher: like I said, I could be just flat out wrong on a lot of this, but as best I seem to understand the EU, it is america 200 years ago
[12:23] MeMyselfandI: Much of the academic community (including Weiler, below) do not see the European Union as a supranational entity. It is more akin to an intergovernmental organization, as it does not regulate many aspects of the member states, the states themselves vote for bills by Qualified Majority Voting and The European Council controls the legislative agenda. It is more a matter of negotiation between the states than that of blanket policy.

Some however, see the EC as being a supranational body, adopting paradoxical arguments about the existence of a European Parliament (for democracy), and the democratic deficit in policy making (The Commission setting the agenda). While it is true that the Court of Justice often dictates to Member States how to apply their law, both the court and the community institutions cannot exceed the powers conferred upon them by the treaty. In that sense, they are limited in their actions and therefore the EC is not a supranational body.
[12:23] MeMyselfandI: (from wikipedia)
[12:24] MeMyselfandI: I concede the similarities but dispute that implies or inferrs a development along the same lines
[12:25] Philosopher: right, there is absolutely no guarantee that just because they resemble america 200 years ago they will develop into america today
[12:26] Philosopher: and I get the comparisons to the UN, especially and primarily about how the EU only weilds the authority conceded to it by the constitutive nations
[12:28] MeMyselfandI: it's an interesting thing to look at, for sure
[12:28] Philosopher: that's one word for it
[12:29] Philosopher: as Eddie Izzard puts it "its the cutting edge of politics, in an incredibly boring way"
[12:29] MeMyselfandI: hah
[12:29] MeMyselfandI: gotta love him
[12:30] Philosopher: watching West Wing has certainly impressed upon me the value of comprehensive understanding of the political workings of the government, but I am faaaaar more interested in the executive branch than the legislative
[12:31] MeMyselfandI: good to know
[12:33] Philosopher: the whole genesis of my antipathy towards politics largely stems from the perverse corruption wrought by democracy
[12:35] Philosopher: I've been infected by too many philosopher-kings
[12:36] MeMyselfandI: hah
[12:36] MeMyselfandI: well, I can't argue that dictatorships worked
[12:37] Philosopher: considering how ill-informed people are when they cast their vote, I have a lot of trouble imagining even the simple majority of votes represent the well-considering decision making that so underpins democracy
[12:38] MeMyselfandI: a scary thought
[12:39] Philosopher: I mean, if people actually voted (in the pure democratic sense) I would have little problem with democracy (at least on the voter's end)
[12:39] Philosopher: but they don't, party line, tradition, sound-bites all end up forming the majority of how people vote
[12:39] MeMyselfandI: well, how else would they vote?
[12:39] Philosopher: it is a travesty to call the voting that goes on here democratic
[12:39] MeMyselfandI: a bunch of entirely uninformed people?
[12:40] MeMyselfandI: but having a requirement of basic understanding goes against primciples of fairness
[12:40] MeMyselfandI: most people are just barely more than absolutely uninformed
[12:40] MeMyselfandI: which is why we elect people, because they are supposed to have a clue and know how to work things
[12:40] Philosopher: the trusteeship argument
[12:41] Philosopher: although considering the quality of people who get elected, I have trouble stomaching that in practice
[12:41] Philosopher: and how is requiring informed decision making unfair?
[12:42] MeMyselfandI: well, those were the methods used to exclude african americans after the civil war
[12:42] MeMyselfandI: jim crow laws
[12:42] MeMyselfandI: and who decides how much?
[12:42] MeMyselfandI: such a requirement can be subject to political manipulation
[12:42] Philosopher: and conversely, if I spent the time and effort informing myself on the issues so as to make a well-considered position, why is the vote of someone who went into the booth and checked every other box given equal consideration?
[12:43] MeMyselfandI: your personal aversion aside, I can't claim that I would be doing a better job--I am just now starting to begin to have a view of the vast multitude of factors that play into politics such that I would be completely overwhelmed
[12:43] MeMyselfandI: because he or she has to live with the consequences
[12:43] MeMyselfandI: which is why we have compulsory education, in the hopes that the ignorami who vote may not do so too stupidly
[12:43] Philosopher: if they are willing to randomly fill out ballots, I'd guess they're pretty indifferent to the consequences
[12:43] MeMyselfandI: or unaware
[12:43] Philosopher: exactly my point
[12:45] Philosopher: the entire argument for the value of democracy over the aristocracy of a monarchy or the philosopher is predicated upon an informed, educated populace
[12:45] MeMyselfandI: It's not possible for one person to manage everyting; there has to be delegation--thus it is not possible to directly decide every aspect, every decision
[12:46] Philosopher: ok...
[12:46] MeMyselfandI: you can't possibly determine everything from municipal services to national defense
[12:46] MeMyselfandI: it makes sense to have a few people really educated in their specific issues to make decisisoons, so you get a civil engineer to decide municipal services
[12:46] MeMyselfandI: and you get someone with an IA phd and military experience maybe to decide national defense
[12:46] MeMyselfandI: the flaw in the theory is the personal ambitions of the individuals
[12:47] MeMyselfandI: an incomplete understanding from their side of the consequences
[12:47] MeMyselfandI: and the fact that voters are easily influenced by rhetoric
[12:47] Philosopher: I'm not saying that division of labor is not needed
[12:47] MeMyselfandI: it's like macroeconomics---every 20 years there is a new theory, we all sit around and say 'this will end poverty', like the structural ajustment theories of the 1960s and 1970s, then you do it, find out it doesn't work, but, well, youVe just fucked your economy
[12:48] MeMyselfandI: so you try something else
[12:48] MeMyselfandI: that is how many policies are done
[12:48] MeMyselfandI: and good intentions get marred by budget constraints and bureaucracy
[12:48] Philosopher: ok... I'm kinda lost on where you're going with all this
[12:49] MeMyselfandI: My point: it is, in many respects, a sucky system with flaws and problems, but there is no better alternative
[12:49] Philosopher: I think there are better alternatives
[12:49] MeMyselfandI: there has to be delegation and some concentration of authority
[12:49] MeMyselfandI: you have to decide somehow who these people are who have this responsibility
[12:49] MeMyselfandI: thus, representative democracy
[12:50] Philosopher: except that the majority of executive branch employees are political appointees
[12:50] Philosopher: subject to senate approval, but appointees nonetheless
[12:51] MeMyselfandI: hopefully to avoid the stupid voters
[12:51] Philosopher: representative democracy, strictly speaking, is the election of delegates to express the will of their constituency, to speak with the voice of a thousand people because counting a thousand votes in impractical
[12:51] MeMyselfandI: theoretically appointed by informed individuals
[12:52] MeMyselfandI: well, given technology, it's not the vote counting that is impractical
[12:52] Philosopher: but it is
[12:53] Philosopher: we can't have everyone voting on everything, no one would every get anything done
[12:53] MeMyselfandI: it's the extent of people's knowledge
[12:54] MeMyselfandI: if you are arguing that only informed people should be able to vote, that is no longer direct democracy
[12:54] MeMyselfandI: and reflects only the interests of the educated few
[12:54] Philosopher: I'm arguing that uninformed voting cannot qualify for any type of democracy
[12:55] Philosopher: and I really don't have a problem with it reflecting the interests of the educated
[12:55] MeMyselfandI: but it is fair
[12:55] MeMyselfandI: because you are educated
[12:55] Philosopher: but it isn't fair
[12:55] MeMyselfandI: but you, for instance, are neither the benificiary of nor directly involved in agriculture, so why should you be allowed to determine ag policy?
[12:56] Philosopher: look at the educational differences between red states and blue states and the increases in likelihood in voting democrat education confers
[12:56] MeMyselfandI: the decisions made reflect the entirety of society, so why should only the few be allowed to vote?
[12:56] Philosopher: because it doesn't ever represent the entirerty of society
[12:56] Philosopher: the sheer inability to motivate people to vote amply demonstrates that
[12:56] MeMyselfandI: well, I would argue the democratic party is better but also not the pinnacle of politics
[12:57] MeMyselfandI: no, but the entirety of society should have the opportunity
[12:57] Philosopher: why?>
[12:57] MeMyselfandI: because they are affected by the policies
[12:57] MeMyselfandI: even if education = voting democratic, that does not mean that the democrats are always correct
[12:57] Philosopher: of course not, I think the democratic party is as ridiculously flawed
[12:58] MeMyselfandI: I don't want to argue in favor of the republican party, nor have my argument be predicated on the value of any particular party
[12:59] MeMyselfandI: but your interests as a voter, from your white upper-middle-class upbringing, are not the same as some kid in the bronx or someone in miami, so why should people of your socioeconomic background (who are more able to afford college and trips to europe, and who comprise the majority of college students) decide policy for the others?
[13:01] Philosopher: I absolutely support universal eduction and I thought that were the populace as a whole informed and educated, then I would have no problem with democracy, direct or representative
[13:01] Philosopher: but instead, we have a system where not only are the majority uneducated, they don't even care to exercise their votes
[13:02] MeMyselfandI: political apathy is not the same
[13:02] Philosopher: we already have an de facto aristocracy, but one clocked in hypocracy of supposidly "universal" elections, and to satisfy the pro forma aspects of the democracy, the political parties and political process is corrupted
[13:03] Philosopher: it isn't the same
[13:03] MeMyselfandI: the greatest cynics, to me, seem to be polisci students
[13:03] Philosopher: because we realize how much of a fraud the system is perpetrating and how the system can be improved
[13:03] Philosopher: I'll make no chops about it, I'm an elistist
[13:03] MeMyselfandI: well, elitism hasn't worked too well so far
[13:04] Philosopher: it wasn't meriotcratic
[13:04] MeMyselfandI: I would argue that the death knell of democracy, insofar as there was one, is the advent of career politicians, political elite
[13:04] Philosopher: it was social
[13:04] Philosopher: then democracy died over 60 years ago
[13:04] Philosopher: at least in the US
[13:05] MeMyselfandI: what about the Adams dynasty? or the Roosevelt dynasty? if one could term them dynasties
[13:06] Philosopher: IO
[13:06] Philosopher: I'm not sure what you are getting at
[13:06] Philosopher: are you saying American democracy died from its inception? or what?
[13:07] MeMyselfandI: well, there you go--there has been a history of that in the US from the beginning
[13:08] Philosopher: read the Federalist papers, they explain why education and informed populace counteract political rhetoric (ostensibly at least)
[13:08] MeMyselfandI: I read those, once upn a time
[13:08] Philosopher: so then if democracy in the US never existed, isn't it time we got rid of the fig leaf?
[13:08] MeMyselfandI: and replace it with.....?
[13:09] Philosopher: the rule of the meritorious
[13:11] Philosopher: I'm perfectly conformtable with the idea of disenfranchisment since barely over the majority of people vote anyways, and even of that group their quality is suspect
[13:12] Philosopher: I'm not looking for even any particular ideological bent, although I do have personal preferences, but simply votes as actual informed and considered decisions
[13:13] Philosopher: I incidentally think we should have a national draft, after a fashion, but one in which military service is only one (ideally small to non-existent) component of the obligation
[13:14] Philosopher: if we are going to have universal enfranchisment, then everyone ought to have, at some time and for some reasonable period of time, actively contributed to the system, beyond paying taxes

Little Miss Sunshine

I watched the movie ,,Little Miss Sunshine“ today, for the second time. I laughed harder than I have in a long time, because the film is just so well done and just so funny. As one of maybe 10 (a generous estimate) native speakers in the room, I noticed that in many places the laughter from the audience came seconds after the dialogue, as the people got caught up via the subtitles—still, it was quite good, even for those relying on the printed word. It’s a crazy american roadtrip movie about a crazy american roadtrip. I noticed a lot of stereotypically american qualities of the characters and scenery, the white tennis shoes, the fact that the family eats fast food, drives a broken car and goes on a 700-miles-odyssey.

Sometimes I see stuff like that and I miss the States a bit, miss that world that is, in many small but tangible ways, different from my world here. I’m not someone who gets homesick much; I miss my family and such friends as I have there quite a bit but those are people, not places, and they could come visit me as well as I them and I would be content.

So seeing stuff like that—seeing a world with which I, by virtue of my nationality, am identified with at least by others, if not by mself—doesn’t make me really miss it, sometimes makes me have to defend it (hollywood, I hate you: you make my life difficult), but mostly constantly reminds me that, in the now not-too-distant future, I will be leaven’ on a jet plane. Don’t take it personally, Colorado, but it isn’t really by choice, and this is one aspect of my life I can’t change.

Despite the fact that the movie was really funny I am left a little bit sad, faced with a week of school and work, faced with a month of hopefully both of those and a lot of fun, faced with the question „what do I do in August?“.

Special: Soul for sale

One of my favorite things to do while travelling is to go grocery shopping. I love seeing how the stores look, all the cool and different things there are to eat, things I’ve never seen before, or variations I’d never dreamed of, vegetables whose taste and preparation requires research, mysterious containers with unknown contents. I enjoy watching people shopping, seeing how their little routines differ from mine—people tend to buy the same things every time they go to the store. I watch the French bite into their bread after leaving the bakery; I marvel at the range of sweets on display or how many sauces or olives are on offer; I wonder just how that little cheese or that funny looking drink would taste.

Checking out is also a different experience; in the US, you place your food on the conveyor belt, it is scanned and bagged and replaced in your cart. In France and in Spain, your food is scanned, and the checker may bag your purchases or at least give you plastic bags for you to do it yourself, and you have time to read the magazines a bit before it’s your turn.

In Germany, it’s different: At Aldi, where the rumor is that employee wages are dependant on their ability to scan a certain number of items per minute, there is no time lost—your purchases are scanned quickly, and before you can barely toss them, completely unpacked and with no system or order whatsoever, into your cart, the cashier is already impatiently awaiting your payment or card, repeating a mechanical litany of instructions (will you be paying with bar or card? Please insert card, stripe lower right, enter your PIN and confirm twice). Before you can finish tossing the rest of your stuff into your cart the next customer is glaring impatiently and the checker has started on his or her purchases, such that there is real danger of your items falling on the floor before you can grab them. It can be harrowing for the uninitiated.

But you get used to it. You get used to the fact that people don’t screw around in the checkout line, there are no magazines to read and no time to read them, and it’s really not that big a deal to bag your own groceries at the special counter in the back with the bags you brought or bought yourself. When you travel, you become exasperated at the glacial pace with which the cashiers in other countries scan the items. In Spain, I waited in line with a baguette, a package of olives and one of yoghurt, behind a woman with a huge cartful of groceries which were, thankfully, about 90% scanned, bagged, and in the cart by the time I arrived. The cashier, for reasons known only to her and certainly not to me, began to print off three-foot receipts, fill each of them (three times!) out with the patron’s name, address, ID info, complete medical history and several other things. I, meanwhile, wait (relatively) patiently, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to devour my meagre lunch before returning to work. I think I must have sprouted several grey hairs during my wait. Even in France, faster than Spain and slower than Germany, the wait began to get to me and I tried not to look impatient as the grandmother in line before me counted out twenty five coins to pay for her purchase.

So I was missing my beloved unfriendly German checkers. I returned to Germany, and returned to Aldi, where the comforting repetitiousness of their monologue (will you be paying with bar or card? Please insert card, stripe lower right, enter your PIN and confirm twice) provided a balm to my impatience, until the following occurrence made me wonder if working as a checker, by virtue of the monotony of the job, turns you into a machine, removing all trace of humanity or common sense:

The checker was checking with all her might (will you be paying with bar or card? Please insert card, stripe lower right, enter your PIN and confirm twice). The person in front of me had maybe eight items; the checker checked the first five or so (will you be paying with bar or card? Please insert card, stripe lower right, enter your PIN and confirm twice) and forgot the last three; only the initial purchases were part of the transaction. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I didn’t see them. I’ll have to do another transaction.” The customer didn’t mind, so the checker scans the items and repeats again, as if the customer could not possibly remember what she had just been told thirty seconds before: “Will you be paying with bar or card? Please insert card, stripe lower right, enter your PIN and confirm twice.”

à Strasbourg pour un jour....

Our driver was Nat., a French/German woman who was the sister of a former colleague and whom I had met only the night before, and her friend Thomas was riding shotgun. My friend A. got the corner and I got to ride in the middle between her and Mark. Thomas, tall and thin, looked strangely American with his white sneakers, knew his way around a US map and asked lots of questions. Mark, jovial and boisterous, had a bit of surfer dude, a bit of hobbit to him, spoke in dialect and went barefoot in town. He had spent a semester studying in South Africa, where everything was in English, and said he can speak English more easily than high German. Ai yi yi.

A. and I had received an offer to go to Strasbourg for the day and, having nothing better to do and wanting to enjoy the weather we went. After determining whether or not a café frappé came with ice cream or cubes we sipped our drinks, sauntered on over to the cathedral, and divested quite a bit of time in finding a particular store selling 200 kinds of beer (did you know they make banana beer in Belgium? Say that three times fast: banana beer in Belgium. Banana beer in Belgium. Banana beer in Belgium). We walked along the bank, we ate ice cream, we went shopping. A. and I split off on our own, got lost in a soap store, and managed to find our way back to a jewellery store we had visited last October where the eifrig proprietor babbled on in mixed French and German (j’ai une très petite tête, isch habe ein kleines Kopf). He gave us a map and complicated directions to some particular cafés and squares, culminating in a secret message scribbled on a corner of a piece of paper for the owner of said café for unknown purposes.

On the search for a particular kind of yoghurt, whose exact description Mark had on a piece of paper from his roommate, complete with packing diagrams and visuals, we picked up wine and cookies, and on our way back to the car were offered to try some of the delicious treats featured in French patisseries which are not seen on the German side of Alsace.

We tried to have a barbeque in the evening, the first of the summer, but it mostly involved smoking ourselves. Still, the German barbeque/campfire experience lacks a certain staple: the s’mores , of course! So, next time I will initiate my German friends in the wonderful gooy goodness that are s’mores.

Sunday was a lecture on ,,The End of Capitalism as we know it”, an interestingly constructed speech with a couple of logical faults, I think (he equated the oil business with capitalism, as a direct manifestation of capitalism, as if there would be no need for oil if we were all communists or something; he also, in my opinion, confused capitalism as an economic system, as a political system, and as a philosophy). And the ice cream afterwards made it all better, and the hiking that followed was the best. Unfortunately someone had forgotten to tell our host for the evening’s dinner that I am vegetarian, so instead of lasagne I ate noodles with carrot-tomato sauce……..

…and now it is Monday, and I work, except for the part where the semester starts today and I go back to the university.

It's a nice feeling...

...to have my life back. It's like reuniting with a long-lost friend or visiting someplace again after a long absence; everything seems new and strange and wonderful.

That's the way I feel about my life. This may tend to hyperbole or exaggeration, but I truly felt like it had been an hour and a half shorter than forever since I had something anyone could call free time, as if I had done nothing since Christmas except work and write papers. Before you jump down my proverbial throat I will freely admit that a) it was my own fault, b) I still did have free time, though much less than usual and at odd times, c) it wasn’t so stressful all of that time period, mostly leading up to the conference and the paper deadlines.

But I don’t want to complain about that; I am sure at the time I complained a sufficient amount to generate enough pity for thirty homeless three-legged cats. I am particularly appreciative to those who lent me an ear, a shoulder, or any other body point.

In fact, I don’t want to complain at all: even though my days are now spent at work and not in the sunshine, the stress is gone; though I have some assignments for the Uni, they do not weigh on me. I had mostly forgotten what it is like to make plans for the evening that are something other than falling exhausted into bed, and reading a book that has nothing to do with politics is like Christmas without the nativity scene.

So, I wanted to share with you, dear readers (looking at my comment count, all 0.5 of you) the recipe for happiness:

Mix a few good friends, a cappuccino or an ice cream (be careful while stirring). Add at least one half hour of sunshine, to taste, and let chill. If mixture is too stressed or unhappy, it may be necessary to add more sunshine, friends, or physical exercise. In case of any difficulties while mixing, or if result is not as happy as intended, make sure to just smile occasionally for no apparent reason and think about those things going well. If even this fails, try sleeping.

The road not taken...

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

(Robert Frost)

Is life like a stream, flowing onward, carrying us allong will ye, nil ye--sometimes we float peacefully, sometimes we swim against the current--with all of our past carried into a single future? The simile holds true in many respects, yet ignores any conception of "free will", of the idea that we as conizent biengs have the ability and the opportunity to decide our own paths, to choose which road to take. This is a philosophic question, and I am not a philosopher: that I leave to Nietzsche and Rand.

That which you call your soul or spirit is your consciousness, and that which you call 'free will' is your mind's freedom to think or not, the only will you have, your only freedom, the choice that controls all the choices you make and determines your life and your character. (Ayn Rand [1905 - 1982], Atlas Shrugged)

My point is, to look at any individual (you, me, anybody, right?), their life, their current position in the cosmic scheme of things--whatever that may be--was determined by a series of choices this individual has made. To imagine that one single choice made differently would alter this individual's entire existance is staggering. Some decisions that seem trivial at the time end up having extensive external effects--whether or not to apply for something may determine your later career, chance meetings may turn into marriages. To trace any given fact back to the deciding moment is impossible, but to say I live in Germany now because I somehow couldn't get into a French class in the 9th grade is not an inappropriate generalization. Of course many other factors contribute both to the decisions themselves and the externalities and "side effects" they have for our our lives, and we must make these decisions in either utter or considerable ignorance of these other factors. Though we are not deciding the rules of a society, as in Rawls' example, we must decide today something whose consequences will be known only at a later date.

This isn't necessarily a comforting thought; this is like playing cards in relative ignorance of the rules, not knowing if the cards you've been dealt are good or bad. I doubt if it is possible to stack the deck; those with "good cards" don't necessarily end up successful; those without may end up millionaires, and even (or particularly) millionaires may end up unhappier than the beggar on the corner--because money can only rent happiness.

If we continue with the river analogy, except adding branches, choicepoints where we may go left or right or straight--we must assume here that time is linear, and that choosing one path excludes in most cases all others--we arrive at a different picture, the analogy used by science fiction writers to creat the plot line, when time travellers manage to muck up the past and thereby destroy the future.

So, my decision to spend this afternoon lying on my back on the grass may have consequences, but whatever they are, I'll take them as they come. If, as Frost implies, doing things a bit differently and going your own way puts you on the right (not left :P) path, that leads (bad pun) us only to the question if there is such a thing as a correct path...

Le fin

It took me awhile to piece together how it all worked out.

Amid much flurry of activity, arrival and departure, my appartment went from empty to full to empty again. I had left my place shortly after 8 for a doctor's appointment, to return at 9:30, expecting my mother to be gone and my boyfriend to let me in. Instead I talked to my somewhat confused roommate, whom I was not expecting to be there at all, who had seen neither mother nor boyfriend. It turns out roommate #2 had returned some time between 8 and 9, helped my mother to the bus stop, and left again, and boyfriend was still sleeping and had missed the whole thing.

Backing up, we spent the afternoon and evening with my friend A., whom we met for coffee and eventually went to dinner with. We spoke English, with A. doing a wonderful job of carrying the conversation though she always claims not to speak English. We went to dinner for Flammkuchen, gateau flambée, a kind of thin-crust pizza with cream instead of tomato sauce, and in our case with pineapple, mandarin oranges and coconut. We ate in a restaurant with separate menus for drinks, food, absinthe, and whisky, where the men's restroom features a grate over a pit in which there is the model of a human skeleton and where metal hands extend from the wall in the ladies'.

Our morning was spent walking in the woods, enjoying what makes FR green besides the politics. Our previous several days in FR included taking long walks, bike riding, touring the town, going to market and going shopping, more walks, more biking, more visiting the town, eating ice cream, playing guitar, sitting in cafés and basically enjoying life in a beautiful city in the spring. It was relaxing and wonderful, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

Piece by piece...

Walking around in an abandoned house is creepy. The places where people used to live their lives now contains junk, the walls are peeling and the scent of decay and stone marks the air. The garden is overgrown and where the swimming pool was is now a murky swamp, all shadows of a past without a future. It makes me a bit sad, goes against my personal creed of Nothing May Be Wasted.

And the place where they live now is an abandoned restaurant and sport facility, with the former dining room partitioned into rooms, old furniture moved into new places, the tennis courts overgrown, the squash court and the woman's bathrooms as storage for unknown and unused curiosities. It's an odd feeling, a bit of temporariness and decay mixed with someone's (actually quite lovely) home.

We visited Monaco yesterday, which is the cleaned up bit of the Riviera with an air of 5th Avenue or PArk AVenue in NYC, clean, pretty, full of money, the parking garages full of Ferraris and more exotic. Yet it is its own country, with a history and a royal family, crowds of tourists, luxury hotels and license plates all its own.

Italy, in contrast to the French side, does not have the huge massive quantity of apartment buildings, factories, and development that completely cover the French coastline from Monaco to past Cannes. It is dirtier, poorer, emptier, more natural, in many respects more beautiful, and in my view more 'authentic', whatever that means. The French side has beautiful cities but the place is simply full, with autoroutes and cities and development and appartments and factories and huge giant stores like Carrefour everywhere, with tiny bits of park squeezed in between. Reminds me of what I have heard of California.

I'm learning French as fast as I can, and though I am at the point where I can get by with only French most of the time, I am just starting and have just reached the point of being comprehended and far from speaking well. Il faut habiter en France. But I enjoy it, and though I can't capture the slipping rhythm I hear it and know I will some day get that far, if I keep on keepin' on.

We leave tonight for Germany. I will be sad to leave France, and sad that this part of our vacation is over, though I am looking forward to the next one. Wish us a good flight.

Vignettes and vinagrettes

Le pain de la France

is a complicated subject. There are rules involving bread, and you had better not screw it up. At the beginning of the meal you are given bread, and you place it on the table, not on your plate. You may eat your bread, by tearing off chunks, with your appetizer but not your soup (in southern France--in northern France, you tear off chunks of bread and float them in your soup, or place slices of stale bread in th bottom of your bowl before serving the soup) as well as your main course. Between appetizer and main course, and between the main course an the cheese, however, you are not to eat your bread, because that would signal to your host that you haven't had enough to eat. You eat bread again with your cheese. In Northern France you also mop your plate with your bread after each course until it is clean.

Vocablary list of the day:

le livre de recettes (recipe book)
la cuisinière (stove)
la casserole, la marmite (pot)
le micronde (microwave)
l'evier (sink)
le robinet (faucet)
le dessus (countertop)
le four (oven)
le frigidaire (fridge)
le tiroir (drawer)
le placard (cabinets)
la porte (door)
la table (table)
la poignet (handle)
le feu (burner)
le bouton (control)
lq passor (collander)
le lateau (tray)
le panier (breadbasket)
le balaï pour ballier (broom to sweep)
la pelle (dustpan)
la boîte (box; container)
le presse de jus (juice press)

Things I like about France:
1. The food. Mmm. I must have eaten 8 kilos of cheese by now...
2. The people
3. Eating in separate courses
4. Roundabouts
5. French language
6. Bakeries and fromageries
7. Drinking tea or coffee from a bowl
8. The historical sites and places
9. The ocean
10. The temperature in S. France
11. Gardens
12. The metro
13. The style
14. Watching people make glass
15. Walks on the beach or by the sea


Things I don't like so much
1. French driving
2. French motorways
3. Toll roads
4. Lack of bike lanes
5. Crazy motorcyclists
6. The price of fruits and vegetables
7. Not speaking French very well
8. All of the people living on the Cote d'Azur
9. The tourists (what, who, me? Are you kidding? I'm no tourist)
10. The odd parking restrictions

You may notice a theme: food=good, sea=good, traffic=bad

Things I want to cook when I get back:
1. Beignets d'aubergines ou de fleurs de couragette
2. Asperges au vinagrette
3. Graitn de pommes de terre
4. Vinagrette
5. Champignons a l'ail

Dreams of another place

In Saint Paul we stood in a walled city, admiring an old fortress turned art colny, streets of white stone pristine, restored, and far cleaner than they probably ever were, even when new. The shops of art and jewelry, lavender sachets, herbier de provence and t-shirt à la StPaul au americain reflecting the expected tourists (middle-aged yuppies, contradiction in terms?) rather than the history of the place. You see these touists, a balding man with an expensive smile, a pauch in his waist and a over-browned, over-made-up and under-satisfied (un-self-satified?) companion, perusing the art and jewelry, exclaiming over the quaint handmade whatchamacalit or the rustic somethingorother. Or else, perhaps not in St Paul but certainly elsewhere, flocks of Asian tourists like ducklings following their mother (and conveniently posing for portraits in front of particularly old or impressive buildings), grungy backpackers with bags dangling like an overloaded packhorse, groups of American teenagers, hungover and/or exclaiming loudly (all this stuff is, like, old or something. I totally saw this awesome shop back there, where you can buy like handmade stuff).

I try to pretend that I don't belong to them, or to any other hastily generalized group. I don't like speaking english when around such locals as exist, though it is obvious I am not from here, will never be from here, and in a place like St Paul, or Venice, or Breckenridge, there probably isn't anyone at all who is actually from there. I try to pretend like I belong, but to where, and to whom?

And what, may I so politely ask, is wrong with being a stranger? I know everyone hates tourists--and I incude myself in this--but is it so wrong to visit such places, to be someone on a trip who can still appreciate the small differences and local delights? To disparge the endless stream of tourists touring every church in Europe, those who do a kamikaze tour of fifteen european capitals in three weeks and those who fork over money to take the elevator up the Eiffel tower or visit the Mona Lisa is easy--yet what does one do, when one tours? What does it mean to be a tourist? To sit in taxis and airplains, trophy mugs and t-shirts like war booty piled in overstuffed suitcases, picking destiations based on Michelin ratings, film credits, or 'must sees' seems rediculous to me: the modern crusaders plundering an imagined history, collecting places visited like commemorative plates. Historical sites abound, and we go, and we look, and we don't understand: it is 'just another church' to us, differnt from the last but we don't know how, yet we do not understand all that this building has represented for its community nor the history and the violence it has withstood throughout the century. To us, a fortress on a hilltop surrounded by luxury villas does not represent a contradiction any more.

As we sat on the shore listening to the waves, enjoying the peculiar sound they make when receeding over pebbles, like fingers on a washboard, I realize the reason you go somewhere, anywhere, is to change the default set of activities. People are creature of habit, slaves sometimes to their routine, everything timed and measured and predictable. Hobbies as well are predictable, and there is a finite set of choices of things to do in a given environment. Travelling allows you to experience completely new things, of course, but adds activities like walking on the beach, exploring old buildings, or visiting a museum to the set list of possibilities, and removes the old standby of work *(hopefully). I do not have to visit every church because it is there, but the option exists for me. I do that which pleases me. It helps to be somewhere completely different when trying to find oneself.

Vignettes of my trip....

Learn at least please, thank you, excuse me, help, and I'm lost in whatever languague. After this point, the best you can do is point, nodd, smile, and look desperate.

Never wear white tennis shoes. Those who wish you ill will spot you at a hundred yards, And those, such as myself, who find such tourists amusing, will also spot you, and secretly laugh maliciously. Also advantagous are multiple pairs of (comfortable) shoes, in case of inclement weather, necessity of matching outfits, blisters, dog poo, or any of a number of eventualities. Hate your feet, hate your life.

Being cold = catching cold. Watch out.

The bread in France is good. For a whitebread country, pretty damn fantastic. I didn't try the bread much in Spain but what I did try wasn't good. On the flipside, as a whitebread country, I would ocasionally trade my as of yet unexistant firstborn for some Schwarzbrot or Dinkelvollkorn.

You drink hot drinks from a bowl. Not a cup. I find this strange, somehow cool, and dangerous in that one serving is the size of half a can of coffee.

Meals are eaten in courses. First your vegetables, then your meat and hot foods, next salad, then the cheese, then the fruit, and sometimes even a dessert. Word to the wise, don't fill up on the first course or you won't make it to the cheese course without exploding.

And the cheese is fantastic, which it should be given that there are 375 different kinds and none from the region of Antibes. Too hot for cows, I guess.

Ask and ye shall receive, and try it first in French. Switching into English when at first they don't understand does not make it easier for them, and not even for you.

Beware of people who talk to you for no reason.

"So I speak English too." "So I see." "I learned it, you see, but it was a punishment. You know this one? A man is arrested by the police and they tell him, you have two choices. Either you go to prison for three years or you learn English. Okay, I learn English, he says. So they put the headphones on him and after ten minutes he says, wait, wait, I take it back, send me to prison!"

A toilet may consist of a hole in the ground. Beware while flushing.

French motorway are not for the feint of heart. Navigation may be tricky, and roudabouts are your best friend. Just keep going round and round and round and round until you figure out where the hell you are. Oherwise you end up on a tollway interstate to somewhere, with exits every half hour.

Je ne sais pas, où je vais, ou ça j'avais jamais bien su. Mais si jamais je le savais? je crois bien que je n'irais plus.....

Well then...

To you, my dear reader, I would apologize for my unforseen absence. Perhaps I will write one of these days a more detailed report of my activities, but for now, a summary must suffice.

When last I wrote I had arrived in Paris. Mum and I had a day to ourselves to explore the city, and we cimbed the Eiffel Tower before most of the tourists arrived, and spent most of the rest of the day wandering around, looking at old buildings, enjoying Paris and each other, cruising bookstores and the like. I had an extra day to repeat the experience, as mom went to Belgium to visit a man she had never met and will probably never see again. So I did Paris tout seule, which resulted in various unforseen and entertaining--if odd--conversations, in French, with random people who started talking to me in the street or in the gardens. As I went to collect mom from Gare du Nord I was informed by loudspeaker that the metro was not stopping at that station due to security concerns, so I exited at Gare de l'est and walked, fearing bomb threats or worse. There were no visible problems that we could see, only police cars, and we managed to miss the later--or previous--riots.

Wednesday we went to Honfleur, first meeting our hostess in Beauvais, all of which required navigating our rented car on the French motorway. Honfleur is an absolutergeous city on the Norman coast, and we spent our time there taking walks, more walks, walks on the beach and through the town, getting rained on, eating bread, and taking it easy. Our host, a loquatious and friendly tiny frenchwoman, lent us her vacation appartment in Honfleur for the week, and we took a day to drive along the coast to see the tapestry in Bayeux.

Yesterday we flew from Paris Orly to Antibes, on the Med, which we just toured this morning. Southern flair and palm trees, turquoise waters, luxury yachts and warm weather have greeted us, and I am eagerly anticipating the rest of the week. Our hosts are a lovely couple who raise roses for a living, live in a huge house with their daughter and her companion, and have a separate house where interns live which is, for our stay, entirely at our disposal. The young couple speaks excellent English, the woman speaks better or similar English to my French, and her husband speaks only French and is just an absolutly lovly person with a smile to light up a room.

So there you have it, that's what we did.