At that time, Belleville was the area of arts and culture. It had not always been the case and it would change one day. Artists, creators, designers and artists had gathered around the TNC (Citizens National Theatre). There, away from the monumental fiberglass Sung-Jun, they renovated the old workshops and brownfields, developing a lifestyle and friendly alternative. Between hair salons "connected" where you shaved skulls creatively, sometimes punctuating the tattoo, where we pruned goatees to give them a look neglected, where grooming dreadlocks by leaving just the number of chips he had, thrift shops and casual and festive, delicious nestling galleries where artifacts from artists peddling fine but relentless criticism of global capitalism.
And that you had kept an air of old Paris, there were few beggars, North African grocers, old HLM tagged as the Ministry of Culture and Solidarity had been classified as UNESCO heritage preparing to declare the humanity, little people who were driving by car and had children of African families, a colorful variety, wonderful source of inspiration for young designers and fans of the first peoples of world music. Of course it would disappear, the artists have created in their wake a wealthy bourgeoisie and relaxed, the prices went up, some makers Opinion achieve great gains, but when the district would be a neat village with pedestrian streets brightened animation wise, then artists like true pioneers, clearing would go to another area, they in turn would raise over the condition of the dump, and hacks of Cyber-Art and other magazines would mobilize once again, and again there would be some nice real estate gains, until the North African grocers, the small people with their cars and their children, and beggars fail in limbo urban prefabricated houses that lined the airport Roissy, beet fields of the plains of Picardy, a deconstructed space unrecoverable plan, information, or any filmmaker-artist had burst as fast as a goldfish in a bowl of tap water placed on the Formica kitchen, where flooding Cyber-Art panegyrics of vibrating at the urban tribes who read it would not suffice to raise the rent of one euro cent, since it was there permanently fixed by the price of corn subsidies and the vagaries of "Brussels". Jean-Claude Verdot
not enjoyed the privileges of his profession as ever during the first Citizen of the National Theatre. His car even took advantage of the few places left in the street by urban planners - who lined the TNC were reserved for representatives of the Ministry of culture and solidarity. There was that night who were there when he needed was to say within the TNC, and those who had been able to enter because of the inadequacy of their social status. Writers, artists, journalists, politicians and influential officials of the ministry, was a true elite of the regime that was found on the front, and those who decide, not what was happening, but what was said, was written and thought, that is to say that in the digital age as arbiters of the world. Admittedly, the only situation of Jean-Claude Verdot Department did not justify his presence, but Felix Rocquencourt, who harbored a secret dislike for contemporary theater, sent his subordinates on the front and the distinct honor of representing the blow had matured latter to Verdot.
The curtain opens on a naked man, naked as the decor, lying on his back, eyes toward the ceiling, and the room was silent for a taste abysmal silence wanted by the author. After three minutes, the girlfriend of Jean-Claude suppressed a yawn. He glared at. The man got up and started running slowly and he described a circle and could be seen swinging his balls in counterpoint to each stride. The projector changed color, gray became blue, a poor blue uniform reminiscent of a prefect. The man continued, and some involuntary movements of impatience agitated the public. A critical effeminate, front row, seemed the height of ecstasy. The man sat cross-legged in front of the stage, defying the assistance of his eyes vitreous. The glans of his penis lying in the dust of the boards, we imagined mutilated by shards of rough wood. The projector was turned green, green like those which regulated the movement, which was like a green light from the first replica. Height of art, it was drowned by the sound of a passing train, find the great director, ingenious contemptuous of acting redundant.
Another character came in black leather coat. They spoke in fragments, the trains were passing, but we realized that the first man was jailed for having sex with a guilty teenager. He advocated sexual freedom of the latter, to dismantle the shackles family reactionary, for pleasure homosexual, only bulwark against the oppression of multinational capitalism.
text was very intelligent, well-crafted, which showed that culture knew strike at the heart of the City in order to enlighten the great debates of his humanistic light. It was a text which proved that all that was tolerant and libertarian society, there were always boundaries to move, unsuspected discrimination, prejudice that even nestling in men as open as Jean-Claude Verdot, Special Adviser to the Ministry of culture and solidarity. For even Jean-Claude Verdot should confess that this apology for pederasty shocked him, or more precisely the "questioning" of his being eradicating residual stale bourgeois morality. Thanks to the theater, catharsis operated magically Verdot took himself sympathetic to the argument that homosexual who compared himself to Martin Luther King and Dreyfus.
was decidedly poor vocabulary, grammar disjointed. This stemmed from a text search as well as the control room that was accessible to young distressed neighborhoods. There was no course in the room, and none would go see the play, but the author was in compliance with the guidelines and the department, which had facilitated the grant award. And the public was satisfied that the text was so democratic to the extent excluded from the transnational plutocracy, because who else but the government could provide the uneducated masses the benefits of arts and letters?
What these masses are not interested in this piece, parts of the TNC in general, they were illiterate because of "failures" of the School government was eager to forget it for better taste, thanks to bad French and the poverty of syntax, the good conscience of the generous act.
Pleasure Jean-Claude Verdot course was indirect; also attend the first in a TNC and its friends to know he enjoyed join the social message of the work, especially although he had overcome his instinctive prejudices. For, on the strict terms of designation, the piece has none.
No plot, poor language, diction, without interest, scenery minimalist, underwater lighting, sight, hearing, intelligence were weaned voluntarily to make way for the social reality and its termination.
Moreover, it must be admitted, the girlfriend Jean-Claude seemed bored. She stamped on his head. Not that any intellectual or artistic inferiority would have prevented assessing the room as people were exactly equal, but no doubt some scandalous inequality residue lurking in the education system explained the shortcomings of its formation. Because for understand contemporary art, it should be carefully prepared. It was not directed at the natural man, heterosexual, individualistic, aggressive, territorial, and therefore inherently unequal bad, but the new man, freed by the education of his evil instincts. And the girlfriend of Jean-Claude Verdot had received an incomplete education, since it was passed by a technical track - progressive forces fighting to abolish the employers but opposed it - when preparing for a profession outweighed disciplines citizens.
For these reason, Jean-Claude brewing in the semi-conscious idea that she did very well suitably Passionnata love and to good causes, she was not quite "sortable". She could have a conversation with Felix Rocquencourt.
During the intermission, they felt some discomfort.
"Then you like it?
Yes, yes ... uh ... yes.
-A splendid blueprint, do not you think?
-What does that mean?
Gaps vocabulary his girlfriend annoyed Jean-Claude. She asked him the meaning of words he used suddenly, as if it had been rude to him, and did not show humility and admiration of his desire to elevate him, we would have expected from a being healthy.
-A sketch ... that means pure ... pure ... somehow stripped of frills ... a classic ... uncompromising ... rough ... tough ...
The precise meaning of the word blueprint also escaped from Jean-Claude Verdot, it was a word that was used in the circle of his friends, his use dated back to some professor of general culture of the Institute of Political Studies, it was a way of saying that we were able to formulate their own judgments on a piece and the rent for which was not there. But there was no connection between the geometrical structure of a diagram and any idea associated with the use of the word in this context, it was actually a sophisticated way, while technically incorrect with regard to language, to say that the play was "pure", because "pure" was too simple a word, but it's too majestic for appliquât a work of the TNC, it would have sounded bizarre and incongruous; 'pure' suggested "Natural", and the Ministry of Culture of Solidarity and all other government departments were fighting against human nature, which was even, to some extent, public enemy number one. So "blueprint" that meant "pure", but in the context reasoned, built, planned and readable, the new culture of solidarity. Cerebrally pure, politically pure, but not as pure as a spring or a grove, and even less like the gallop of the panther chasing antelope.
-To be rough is rough, finds his girlfriend , whose eyes dared launch sparkling flashes of irony.
was horrible. Technical schools were decidedly poor job. There was a whole point behind this common sense bourgeois or peasant, and that Jean-Claude Verdot plunged into deep distress. There was a shadow of his happiness. His girlfriend was very properly love, they had excellent orgasms, sexual relationships were in full compliance with the standards taught in schools - with the exception perhaps of a detail that we will discuss in Chapter next, but could not tolerate this disregard for stubborn production than any criticism Cyber-Art head, recognized as exceptional.
So it was a dark mood they went down again at the beginning of the second act. But it proved far more lively than the first, without losing its austerity harsh and rough, with a great find of staging. As and when the action took place, which is a manner of speaking, since there were none, a crescendo of sounds strikingly evoked an urban riot. Police sirens, explosions Molov cocktails, flame lights, a crowd running in all directions screaming ... Full of art, a slight smell of tear gas hung in the room. It was now directly acting as part of the spirits. It was expected that the rioters fissent burst onto the stage and attack the homosexual (including aftershocks were still being regularly covered by the noise of trains), this introduced a tension, an instability which stimulated attention. In this anxiety, the replica took on particular importance, it evokes the fragility of the human condition, the tragic absurdity that death gives our actions. Heart rates accelerated, the Verdot girlfriend of only yawned over, the spectators watched in disbelief, the effect was particularly successful, there lived a great moment in art, and nobody had expected. Critics, sitting in the front row, scribbling feverishly while the sirens became more oppressive, you could hear rocks hitting the vehicle body and the explosions of light poles, and a smell of burning plastic is now mingled with that of tear gas. They were laying huge papers, get their boss a front-page headline, we rally the crowds, school buses, the piece would be a triumph ...
The noise gradually died out riot as the second act was over. The screams were more spaced out, the sirens of ambulances follow those of firefighters, shutters opened, you could hear the chatter of the onlookers vaguely ...
is smiling as the audience left the hall. People were eager to share their impressions. We watched with the connivance of the elected. Yet exclamations came from the lobby expressed more surprise than admiration. And when Jean-Claude Verdot and his girlfriend crossed in turn, they were also surprised. They were buses of riot police in every way. Here and there, vehicles and garbage burning. Concrete blocks, coming from nowhere, dotted the floor. The beautiful canopy Sung-Jun was reduced to smithereens. Their surprise was even greater when, after crossing several cordons of police, they saw that their car was more than a steaming carcass. They thought he was a trick of staging, the echo of the authentic riot that broke out near the theater. No doubt city youth in trouble ...
We knew nothing of what had provoked the clashes. The cops did not want nothing. Disapproval and consternation spread through the crowd of spectators, many of whom had found their car burned. They were forced to wait on the steps that the authorities support them. The area was still cordoned off the subway and not circulated.
-Still, they exaggerate, "they said.
-We do not know what these young people have experienced ...
-Misery
neighborhood ... "It's probably still a
entrapment ..." What are we waiting for to provide them with cultural activities instead of parking them in squalid cities? So much
that the government will not apply a real policy of the city, we got what we deserve.
And it should end this bloody conflict in the Middle East ...
And with all discrimination, little lady!
-Besides the weight of colonial wars ...
- excluding ... ... ... school failure who are both carriers of
pain ... "But what they do, they will not stay planted there any night? If these bastards
-insurers reimburse you the car at half the price of the Argus, you'll be lucky.
"What are they waiting to build social housing?
-To set up an integration allowance?
And the prison, sir! You forget the prison! While all psychologists ... studies the most serious ... ... indisputably demonstrated that a psychological follow custom ... accompanied by an ambitious political rehabilitation
... - ... To think they expect that everything burned to strengthen programs civic education ...
- "They" have never been in politics for prevention, then after that "they" do not complain ...
"They have to stop harassing the young!
-On should ban the police to get involved. There are mediators, neighborhood committees
... Alone in his corner, Nicole Michaud, who had paid his place in the barn by long hours of waiting, was silent. She was not happy. His car did not burn, because it had none. She could never remember the formula for braking distance or length of the interval between two white lines on a road, in consequence of which he had been judged unfit to drive. She thought his ability to move depended on the willingness of young sensitive areas, as well as the habits of drug dealers governed complicated routes it borrowed to leave his neighborhood. She wondered what connection there might be among the rubble that lay under his eyes and pious precepts Republicans that she had taught for thirty years. And also how so many learned minds had professed that it was sufficient for all s'arrangeât, endlessly replicating the gray abstruse cultural centers and parts such as the one she had suffered, so desperately identical to what she had swallowed since the beginning of his cultural odyssey.
Nicole Michaud had lost its defenses. Human nature took over the top. An irrepressible sense of rebellion was brewing in her. She needed serious psychological help.
And that you had kept an air of old Paris, there were few beggars, North African grocers, old HLM tagged as the Ministry of Culture and Solidarity had been classified as UNESCO heritage preparing to declare the humanity, little people who were driving by car and had children of African families, a colorful variety, wonderful source of inspiration for young designers and fans of the first peoples of world music. Of course it would disappear, the artists have created in their wake a wealthy bourgeoisie and relaxed, the prices went up, some makers Opinion achieve great gains, but when the district would be a neat village with pedestrian streets brightened animation wise, then artists like true pioneers, clearing would go to another area, they in turn would raise over the condition of the dump, and hacks of Cyber-Art and other magazines would mobilize once again, and again there would be some nice real estate gains, until the North African grocers, the small people with their cars and their children, and beggars fail in limbo urban prefabricated houses that lined the airport Roissy, beet fields of the plains of Picardy, a deconstructed space unrecoverable plan, information, or any filmmaker-artist had burst as fast as a goldfish in a bowl of tap water placed on the Formica kitchen, where flooding Cyber-Art panegyrics of vibrating at the urban tribes who read it would not suffice to raise the rent of one euro cent, since it was there permanently fixed by the price of corn subsidies and the vagaries of "Brussels". Jean-Claude Verdot
not enjoyed the privileges of his profession as ever during the first Citizen of the National Theatre. His car even took advantage of the few places left in the street by urban planners - who lined the TNC were reserved for representatives of the Ministry of culture and solidarity. There was that night who were there when he needed was to say within the TNC, and those who had been able to enter because of the inadequacy of their social status. Writers, artists, journalists, politicians and influential officials of the ministry, was a true elite of the regime that was found on the front, and those who decide, not what was happening, but what was said, was written and thought, that is to say that in the digital age as arbiters of the world. Admittedly, the only situation of Jean-Claude Verdot Department did not justify his presence, but Felix Rocquencourt, who harbored a secret dislike for contemporary theater, sent his subordinates on the front and the distinct honor of representing the blow had matured latter to Verdot.
The curtain opens on a naked man, naked as the decor, lying on his back, eyes toward the ceiling, and the room was silent for a taste abysmal silence wanted by the author. After three minutes, the girlfriend of Jean-Claude suppressed a yawn. He glared at. The man got up and started running slowly and he described a circle and could be seen swinging his balls in counterpoint to each stride. The projector changed color, gray became blue, a poor blue uniform reminiscent of a prefect. The man continued, and some involuntary movements of impatience agitated the public. A critical effeminate, front row, seemed the height of ecstasy. The man sat cross-legged in front of the stage, defying the assistance of his eyes vitreous. The glans of his penis lying in the dust of the boards, we imagined mutilated by shards of rough wood. The projector was turned green, green like those which regulated the movement, which was like a green light from the first replica. Height of art, it was drowned by the sound of a passing train, find the great director, ingenious contemptuous of acting redundant.
Another character came in black leather coat. They spoke in fragments, the trains were passing, but we realized that the first man was jailed for having sex with a guilty teenager. He advocated sexual freedom of the latter, to dismantle the shackles family reactionary, for pleasure homosexual, only bulwark against the oppression of multinational capitalism.
text was very intelligent, well-crafted, which showed that culture knew strike at the heart of the City in order to enlighten the great debates of his humanistic light. It was a text which proved that all that was tolerant and libertarian society, there were always boundaries to move, unsuspected discrimination, prejudice that even nestling in men as open as Jean-Claude Verdot, Special Adviser to the Ministry of culture and solidarity. For even Jean-Claude Verdot should confess that this apology for pederasty shocked him, or more precisely the "questioning" of his being eradicating residual stale bourgeois morality. Thanks to the theater, catharsis operated magically Verdot took himself sympathetic to the argument that homosexual who compared himself to Martin Luther King and Dreyfus.
was decidedly poor vocabulary, grammar disjointed. This stemmed from a text search as well as the control room that was accessible to young distressed neighborhoods. There was no course in the room, and none would go see the play, but the author was in compliance with the guidelines and the department, which had facilitated the grant award. And the public was satisfied that the text was so democratic to the extent excluded from the transnational plutocracy, because who else but the government could provide the uneducated masses the benefits of arts and letters?
What these masses are not interested in this piece, parts of the TNC in general, they were illiterate because of "failures" of the School government was eager to forget it for better taste, thanks to bad French and the poverty of syntax, the good conscience of the generous act.
Pleasure Jean-Claude Verdot course was indirect; also attend the first in a TNC and its friends to know he enjoyed join the social message of the work, especially although he had overcome his instinctive prejudices. For, on the strict terms of designation, the piece has none.
No plot, poor language, diction, without interest, scenery minimalist, underwater lighting, sight, hearing, intelligence were weaned voluntarily to make way for the social reality and its termination.
Moreover, it must be admitted, the girlfriend Jean-Claude seemed bored. She stamped on his head. Not that any intellectual or artistic inferiority would have prevented assessing the room as people were exactly equal, but no doubt some scandalous inequality residue lurking in the education system explained the shortcomings of its formation. Because for understand contemporary art, it should be carefully prepared. It was not directed at the natural man, heterosexual, individualistic, aggressive, territorial, and therefore inherently unequal bad, but the new man, freed by the education of his evil instincts. And the girlfriend of Jean-Claude Verdot had received an incomplete education, since it was passed by a technical track - progressive forces fighting to abolish the employers but opposed it - when preparing for a profession outweighed disciplines citizens.
For these reason, Jean-Claude brewing in the semi-conscious idea that she did very well suitably Passionnata love and to good causes, she was not quite "sortable". She could have a conversation with Felix Rocquencourt.
During the intermission, they felt some discomfort.
"Then you like it?
Yes, yes ... uh ... yes.
-A splendid blueprint, do not you think?
-What does that mean?
Gaps vocabulary his girlfriend annoyed Jean-Claude. She asked him the meaning of words he used suddenly, as if it had been rude to him, and did not show humility and admiration of his desire to elevate him, we would have expected from a being healthy.
-A sketch ... that means pure ... pure ... somehow stripped of frills ... a classic ... uncompromising ... rough ... tough ...
The precise meaning of the word blueprint also escaped from Jean-Claude Verdot, it was a word that was used in the circle of his friends, his use dated back to some professor of general culture of the Institute of Political Studies, it was a way of saying that we were able to formulate their own judgments on a piece and the rent for which was not there. But there was no connection between the geometrical structure of a diagram and any idea associated with the use of the word in this context, it was actually a sophisticated way, while technically incorrect with regard to language, to say that the play was "pure", because "pure" was too simple a word, but it's too majestic for appliquât a work of the TNC, it would have sounded bizarre and incongruous; 'pure' suggested "Natural", and the Ministry of Culture of Solidarity and all other government departments were fighting against human nature, which was even, to some extent, public enemy number one. So "blueprint" that meant "pure", but in the context reasoned, built, planned and readable, the new culture of solidarity. Cerebrally pure, politically pure, but not as pure as a spring or a grove, and even less like the gallop of the panther chasing antelope.
-To be rough is rough, finds his girlfriend , whose eyes dared launch sparkling flashes of irony.
was horrible. Technical schools were decidedly poor job. There was a whole point behind this common sense bourgeois or peasant, and that Jean-Claude Verdot plunged into deep distress. There was a shadow of his happiness. His girlfriend was very properly love, they had excellent orgasms, sexual relationships were in full compliance with the standards taught in schools - with the exception perhaps of a detail that we will discuss in Chapter next, but could not tolerate this disregard for stubborn production than any criticism Cyber-Art head, recognized as exceptional.
So it was a dark mood they went down again at the beginning of the second act. But it proved far more lively than the first, without losing its austerity harsh and rough, with a great find of staging. As and when the action took place, which is a manner of speaking, since there were none, a crescendo of sounds strikingly evoked an urban riot. Police sirens, explosions Molov cocktails, flame lights, a crowd running in all directions screaming ... Full of art, a slight smell of tear gas hung in the room. It was now directly acting as part of the spirits. It was expected that the rioters fissent burst onto the stage and attack the homosexual (including aftershocks were still being regularly covered by the noise of trains), this introduced a tension, an instability which stimulated attention. In this anxiety, the replica took on particular importance, it evokes the fragility of the human condition, the tragic absurdity that death gives our actions. Heart rates accelerated, the Verdot girlfriend of only yawned over, the spectators watched in disbelief, the effect was particularly successful, there lived a great moment in art, and nobody had expected. Critics, sitting in the front row, scribbling feverishly while the sirens became more oppressive, you could hear rocks hitting the vehicle body and the explosions of light poles, and a smell of burning plastic is now mingled with that of tear gas. They were laying huge papers, get their boss a front-page headline, we rally the crowds, school buses, the piece would be a triumph ...
The noise gradually died out riot as the second act was over. The screams were more spaced out, the sirens of ambulances follow those of firefighters, shutters opened, you could hear the chatter of the onlookers vaguely ...
is smiling as the audience left the hall. People were eager to share their impressions. We watched with the connivance of the elected. Yet exclamations came from the lobby expressed more surprise than admiration. And when Jean-Claude Verdot and his girlfriend crossed in turn, they were also surprised. They were buses of riot police in every way. Here and there, vehicles and garbage burning. Concrete blocks, coming from nowhere, dotted the floor. The beautiful canopy Sung-Jun was reduced to smithereens. Their surprise was even greater when, after crossing several cordons of police, they saw that their car was more than a steaming carcass. They thought he was a trick of staging, the echo of the authentic riot that broke out near the theater. No doubt city youth in trouble ...
We knew nothing of what had provoked the clashes. The cops did not want nothing. Disapproval and consternation spread through the crowd of spectators, many of whom had found their car burned. They were forced to wait on the steps that the authorities support them. The area was still cordoned off the subway and not circulated.
-Still, they exaggerate, "they said.
-We do not know what these young people have experienced ...
-Misery
neighborhood ... "It's probably still a
entrapment ..." What are we waiting for to provide them with cultural activities instead of parking them in squalid cities? So much
that the government will not apply a real policy of the city, we got what we deserve.
And it should end this bloody conflict in the Middle East ...
And with all discrimination, little lady!
-Besides the weight of colonial wars ...
- excluding ... ... ... school failure who are both carriers of
pain ... "But what they do, they will not stay planted there any night? If these bastards
-insurers reimburse you the car at half the price of the Argus, you'll be lucky.
"What are they waiting to build social housing?
-To set up an integration allowance?
And the prison, sir! You forget the prison! While all psychologists ... studies the most serious ... ... indisputably demonstrated that a psychological follow custom ... accompanied by an ambitious political rehabilitation
... - ... To think they expect that everything burned to strengthen programs civic education ...
- "They" have never been in politics for prevention, then after that "they" do not complain ...
"They have to stop harassing the young!
-On should ban the police to get involved. There are mediators, neighborhood committees
... Alone in his corner, Nicole Michaud, who had paid his place in the barn by long hours of waiting, was silent. She was not happy. His car did not burn, because it had none. She could never remember the formula for braking distance or length of the interval between two white lines on a road, in consequence of which he had been judged unfit to drive. She thought his ability to move depended on the willingness of young sensitive areas, as well as the habits of drug dealers governed complicated routes it borrowed to leave his neighborhood. She wondered what connection there might be among the rubble that lay under his eyes and pious precepts Republicans that she had taught for thirty years. And also how so many learned minds had professed that it was sufficient for all s'arrangeât, endlessly replicating the gray abstruse cultural centers and parts such as the one she had suffered, so desperately identical to what she had swallowed since the beginning of his cultural odyssey.
Nicole Michaud had lost its defenses. Human nature took over the top. An irrepressible sense of rebellion was brewing in her. She needed serious psychological help.
