Chivalry?... What Chivalry?

Even before we were stuck at home, I work a lot at night (it's quiet and I can focus on plot bunnies and research).

Since the weather's a tad nicer these days, when I do go to bed (between 5 and 7 am), I open my blackout curtains, open the window and listen to the birds (the seagulls make me believe that I'm by the sea - I'm not).

Sometimes, I see people going to work this early.

Last night, there was this young woman walking uphill (either she works at the nearby hospital - or somewhere - or she was going to catch a bus or the tube). Walking downhill was this young bloke.

The pavement there is very, very narrow. Now, guess who moved to walk on the road...? Yup! The young lady.

Of course, the traffic so early and with so few cars around was not really an issue, but the boy did not even try to do anything. He just kept walking as if he owned the pavement.

It's not that chivalry's dead. I think it was mostly ever only in books to make a few blokes look good - and yes, I'm tired and angry. Why?

Chers scénaristes, si vous avez besoin d'une historienne...

... ou tout simplement de quelqu'un pour vous relire, vous pouvez m'engager.

En revanche, si vous vous acharnez à commettre des erreurs historiques, je vous fais bouffer votre script. Sans sel. Sans moutarde.

Pourquoi suis-je en train de ronchonner ? Tout simplement à cause d'un téléfilm.

Je regardais tranquillement un épisode de Meurtres à..., qui est une série que j'aime beaucoup, quand l'épisode ...Aix-en-Provence (écrit et réalisé par Claude-Michel Rome) m'a fait faire un triple salto arrière avec rattrapage au plafond par les griffes.

Présentations des pièces à conviction, Madame la présidente/Monsieur le président : 

Échange n°1 :

A : Je l'ai convaincu que tu serais plus à ton aise si le manuscrit était ici.

{Gros plan sur un livre imprimé protégé par une vitrine} <- au moins, l'accessoiriste n'est pas une tanche, car ->

B : Incroyable. Un incunable du XVI^e siècle. Écrit de la main de Nostradamus ?

Là, mon plafond était déjà lacéré.

Échange n°2 : 

C : Est-ce qu'il pourrait venir du manuscrit trouvé dans la crypte ?

D : Non, personne n'a approché l'incunable après sa découverte.

C : Heu ?

D: L'incunable !

E : Livre du XVI^e siècle postérieur au début de l'imprimerie.

Là, j'ai commencé à hurler à la mort. Je n'avais pas autant râlé à cause d'un scénario depuis Gladiator, qui était pourtant pas mal déjanté dans le genre « Je fais pas mes devoirs, mais c'est pas grave ».

Un manuscrit, c'est écrit à la main par un copiste.

Un incunable, c'est un livre imprimé entre la date de l'invention de l'imprimerie (vers 1450) et avant le 1^er janvier 1501.

Un « incunable manuscrit », ça n'existe pas dans notre dimension.

Donc, le scénariste n'a pas vérifié la définition d'un incunable ou l'a lue en diagonale ou ne l'a pas comprise ou... se fichait complètement d'avoir une telle erreur dans son œuvre (je me souviens de la conférence d'un historien à qui il arrivait d'être conseiller historique sur des tournages et qui nous avait parlé d'un réalisateur qui voulait avoir des bananes dans une coupe de fruits... au Moyen-âge !).

Je ne sais pas à quoi nous avons affaire ici, mais si j'ai, un jour, le plaisir de rencontrer le coupable, je me ferai un plaisir de lui poser la question.

En attendant, si quelqu'un veut m'engager, je suis très efficace... mais je vous démonterai le squelette en place publique si vous ne corrigez pas ce genre d'erreur une fois que je vous l'aurai signalée (je fais de l'allergie aux tanches de concours et autres buses).

PS : Ce n'est peut-être pas qu'avec côtelette incunable que le scénariste a des problèmes, mais, même s'il voulait dire volume ou livre à la place de manuscrit, ça n'explique quand même pas le réplique B de l'échange 1.

Compassion, eh?

One of my mother's neighbours hopped by to see if she needed anything and she's grateful for the kindness.

Awesome.

My only issue with that bloke is that he's a weird bunny (and that's the super polite way of saying it - I could be waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more colourful about that biped).

Fast-forward to today, and Mother noticed a new wall by her fence, behind the house, near the building for which the neighbour never got a permit (if he got one, bribery was involved as what he's done is fucking illegal through and through, but - hey! - what do I know? Well, I know the law, that's what!). 

Mother thinks that I must have missed the wall the last time I was there (three weeks ago! And after doing some stuff near that very fence?!).

Do you know what I believe, dear Readers? I believe that the neighbour came to talk to my mother to check if she'd noticed the wall. Full stop.

Now that he's got his info, he's gone. He never cared about her; he wanted to check something.

I'm not going to forget that one either and he doesn't know what I'm planning for him... one day.

My (Oh, Yes I'm Going to Try It!!!) Next New Hobby

I think I will definitely try sculpture, but I've found something else. Something I've been wanting to try for a long time.

The arts supply store is going to be fed up with me when they re-open...

I'm going to try this:

  

It's glass I have a hard time finding... Everything else is already located, or already in my possession.

This will be fun.

My (Possible) Next New Hobby

I'm far from being bored, as I'm still in touch with my students by e-mail (which takes even more time than "just" being in class), I've got some spring cleaning and DIY stuff to do in my flat, and I've got an invasion of plot bunnies at home (yes - even more than usual!). I've got a dress to hem and a new portrait to start, too.

I'm busy and unbored.

And yet, something new-ish is making its way into my head. In fact, there are two things I'd like: I'd like to try pottery again (the last time, I was in primary school, but I loved it - in spite of the bullying teacher who didn't allow us to create what we really wanted; she expected obedient sheeple), but, alas, I have no access to a kiln, so I'll have to store that idea for the moment and... I'd like to try sculpture.

We have sculptors in the family (artists and monumental masons) and I'd really like to try.

I could order stuff online, but I don't want to burden my post officer with trifles, so I'll go shopping when we're allowed to go back to arts stores.

Maybe I won't like it.

Maybe I'll be rubbish at it.

I'll give it a try, for fun - and because I'm curious to see if there might be some marble in my DNA...

Good or bad, I'll keep you posted.

Shopping in the Time of Coronavirus - the Easter Island Edition

Since my work schedule is utterly demented, I have been staying home since March 11th and went shopping once last week. 

Today, I went back to the supermarket that's right in front of my building not to go too far.

First of all, most bipeds don't know what a metre looks like (and I'm not the only one noticing the issue apparently: there were floor markings by the checkouts!). There was even this arrogant bloke who walked as he pleased: the others were in charge of avoiding his path (I say arrogant because I saw something deeply unpleasant in his eyes, as in "I'm more important than you").

And then... some aisles were 99% to 100% empty.

No more sliced bread? Okay, I can go queue at the baker's.

No more white vinegar? Okay, everybody wants to clean their windows; mine can wait...

No more wipes? Fine, but if my cat is sick again, things are going to be "eurgh!!!".

No more kitchen gloves? Uhoh... Dear bipeds, if I have to do the dishes without gloves, I'm not going to be a happy bunny. Just saying... *starts praying to the kitchen gods that my one pair of gloves won't die on me*

No more kitty litter? 100% empty shelves. All brands missing, even the bad ones? That is making me want to bite someone. I can find alternatives for my food, but my cat needs litter and wet food for cats (he's never eaten anything for humans - probably because of some trauma before I rescued him).

Some things are really beginning to be utterly ridiculous - and I'll have to go to another store, hoping that the stocks will be better for my poor cat there.

{Friendly warning: you may hear me howl if I can't find any kitty litter in my district...}

Movie, please! -> Charade

Just in case you'd like something swell to watch, here's Charade, a 1963 film with Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant (the rest of the cast is splendid, too).
Enjoy!

Shopping in the Time of Coronavirus

I remember my nan, who'd been through two world wars, telling me to stockpile flour, pasta, rice, and tins of various kinds of food during the Gulf War because she was afraid that the conflict would spread and she didn't want our family to be as hungry as she'd been as a child, and then as a mother.

Back then, I remember some people panicking, but - Flurching Inferno! - it never was as bad as what I saw this morning...

Why did I go shopping on a Sunday morning, you ask, dear Readers? "Is Dru afraid?" you wonder.

Well, no. But I am lazy, and since I was out to go vote in our mayoral elections (funny that the politicos didn't report that one... as if someone thinks that Parisians are going to stay away from polling stations! There was a massive queue at 9 AM!!!), I decided to go do my regular, normal shopping today as that would allow me to stay home (my college has been ordered to close) until round 2 of the elections next Sunday.

It turns out that I was far from being the only one at my usual supermarket and there was a tad of "panic" shopping (I was the only one with cat food, frozen cauliflower, and a bag of onions).

The rice and pasta aisle was 99.9% empty.

The toilet paper aisle was 75% empty (Covid-19 symptoms have nothing to do with the cholera, so I'm a tad at sea on this one).

The eggs were all gone, but the rest of the store was okay - except the prices.

I don't keep my old receipts, but I'm convinced that the prices are slightly up. I mean, I literally thought that the store owner would have ended up with a shaved head if we were in 1945...

Things are really strange.

People Bipeds are really strange.

I'll admit that, having seen my usual store this morning, I'm a lil' bit tempted to stockpile... for my cat.

Plautus? Not Plautus!

I'm currently gathering data to write a play on a certain mythological topic.

I won't be the first to write on that, but I've decided to bring a new angle to it by focussing on the women in the story - instead of the men (as every [male] playwright before me).

It is quite interesting.

The very first author we have writing on this topic is Plautus (interesting approach, but I'm not a fan of his Latin).

As I was working on a twist in my plot, I finally realized that, since Plautus, the characters have been dealing with Roman gods and goddesses, but... the original story is in Greek.

I changed my characters' names to Greek ones and I'm keeping two Roman "guest stars".

I'm rather happy with what I'm plotting - and it helps me with some dry work as I'm also editing my PhD and a memoir/biography/art history manifesto that needs a lot of footnotes as the subject of this book knew each and every artist in all domains in the 19th century.