Music Time! The Buggles - Video Killed The Radio Star (Live 2004)

Okay. This is "fluffier" than my previous post...
Enjoy!

Winter News

Work is a bit mad these days, and I'm oddly tired.

Perhaps what happened to me yesterday was exacerbated by my exhaustion... I don't know. What happened was that, last summer I'd mentioned to a relative a plot for a comedy that had popped into my head, and - for once - the answer was, 'Oh, that sounds interesting!', so I stored the idea in my "plot bunny pen" (aka the idea folder on my computer) and I let it grow.

This month, the comedy plot bunny managed to tackle me, and I wrote the play. It may not be unforgettable, but it's a good comedy... which is going to stay in my desk drawer.

Last night, I was talking about my current Sci-Fi plot with the same relative, but this time, I got a 'You're really weird you know. Not in a good way.'.

I usually brush off my relatives' negativity because I know why they're being so manipulative and such bullies... Sometimes, their words hit where it really hurts (last year, I ended up being so hurt that I stopped everything, and it was my brother who convinced me to not stop writing).

So, last night, I decided that my relatives wouldn't get to see the new play. Ever... and I don't know what I'll do with it in the long run.

On top of everything, I was listening to the radio last night, and a song I'd forgotten made me cry.

It's the chorus that got me (roughly translated it goes 'Each new day is a day too many. I'm about to collapse'). 

Truly beautiful song, but it broke my heart.

I still miss Him. I'll always miss Him.

PS: I'm really not looking forward to Christmas with the family...

Testament - Back to Square 1 1/2

Since a few relatives have decided to behave in a way that would make the Borgias rather proud, I decided to update my testament.

I thought that I'd found the perfect way to protect my paper "babies" by giving my literary rights to a library...

Good thing I didn't have time to have my new testament officially registered because that new potential heir would probably have been a terrible mistake.

I mean, when you say that you want to give your literary rights so your books will be safe with them, but they understand that you want to give them the contents of your bookcases, well... it doesn't bode well for the security of your paper "babies".

I'm back to my first testament, which I hadn't destroyed, but it burdens people I love.

I'm looking for an association, or a charity (or another library), that could rescue my books (the ones I wrote and will write), but I would QUITE welcome suggestions.

It needs to be a group that can potentially deal with publishers, and who's LGBTQ-friendly (anywhere around the globe, of course).

Ideas???

Becoming a Misanthrope

Imagine the scene: a packed bus (I mean, really, really packed).

Imagine Biped A: young (that's irrelevant, but... maybe not so much down the tale), watching a film on its mobile, and not holding any handlebar (or anything) and therefore standing with its legs spread wide in order not to fall.

Imagine Biped B: much older than Biped A, and trying not to fall in spite of a firm grip on a handlebar.

Now, here's the drama: Biped B asks Biped A to not spread its legs so wide so Biped B can have a bit more space. Biped A ignores Biped B, who doesn't back down and tells Biped A that it's being quite selfish.

And here's the nuttiness: most of the bipeds around asked Biped B to shut the fuck up because it was bothering them (there's even one that asked Biped B to shut up, but who kept insisting that it didn't want to get involved - you got involved when you opened your mouth, miserable twat).

Have things come to this? A biped that wants to keep watching its mobile on a packed bus is the one who's protected by most of the other bipeds?

Well, this is where I wish to avoid such selfish village idiots and become a misanthrope.

And why didn't I say a thing? Simple. I'd have yelled at the selfish ones that they were wankers, and that life was too short for such pettiness - and since I currently have to face daily family drama these days, I may have been tempted to punctuate my statement with punches. 

Not being a fan of small spaces with bars, I read my book, planned this post, and was ready to pretend that I didn't speak the language if asked to join the plonkers.

Gosh. Bipeds are exhausting.

Christmas Wish

I still loathe Christmas, which is approaching too rapidly for my taste, and I get asked what I want for Christmas (Merlin be praised, 98% of my Christmas shopping's done), and here's my problem: how does one tell relatives that one doesn't want expensive gifts that are meant to make the buyers feel good (when they're not the kind that tries to buy affection, or tries to make the recipient feel either bad or worthless - for whatever reason)?

If I could answer honestly, I'd say that the only thing I want is quiet: no family drama, no stress, no tears, no bullying, no belittling. 

Fat chance!!!

My perfect Christmas present is to spend Christmas without a knot in my stomach, and without having to deal with DNA-related bullies.

January will never come fast enough...

How I Got away with Naming Things (Sort of)

I name things, as in... my computer has a name, my printer has a name, my MP3 player has a name.

This is a thing I do.

I once had a friend who knew that I do this, and he joked that I couldn't possibly give names to the veggie tins in my kitchen. I said, deadpan, that they didn't stay long enough for me to give them names.

If it bothers people that I name things... I don't give a fig.

Some of my relatives find me odd (what's new?), and one tried to make fun of me, because of this, recently.

And then... the "universe" (it's just a lovely coincidence, actually) decided to help me as my new phone has a name. I don't mean something like XYU-tw2159. Her name's Lola, and I can call her that, coz that's her name; it's on the box and everything. And when that relative snorted that I'd given a name to my phone, I could say that she came that way, which is 100% true - and I like her name.

Now... did I buy that one because she had a name? Another post may answer to this question one day......

Death and Respect

This might sound odd to some, but I don't think that someone, who was horrid in life, should get a pass because he or she kicked the bucket.

Recently, between international news (and the obituary of some "prominent" biped) and the news of a death in the family, I find myself wondering why some people think that all dead bipeds deserve some respect after death.

In comments sections I've read that one should "wait until he's cold" (out of respect for the departed biped) or "show respect to the dead".

In my family, I heard that "the dead should be allowed to rest in peace".

No.

I disagree.

If someone was nasty, petty, always negative, manipulative, disrespectful, odious, generally unpleasant, and mostly a pitiful excuse of a "human being", I refuse to be nice because it died.

Any public figure who was abusive deserves no respect - not when it was alive, not when it's six feet under (should I start respecting Franco just because he's dead? Nope. Same rule applies to all nasty bipeds in my book).

The same goes for any unpleasant relative of mine. I'll ignore them in life, and I'll loathe them in death. I'll point at Rule #2 and #5.

Right now, I have two relatives who want to leave the dead alone. They're nicer than I am (perhaps because I can never forget, and I very seldom forgive; I remember what horrible people did). I can't have empathy for negative bipeds (then again, I never pretended to be perfect either, and I can't forget that some dead bipeds are back to nothingness whilst their victims are left to suffer until their last breaths - that's when the atheist in me regrets that there's nothing after death, coz some bipeds would really deserve to be barbecued in hell for all eternity).

Judging the Book by Its Cover

How I love that most people keep saying  "don't judge a book by its cover", but nearly everybody judges the "book" by its cover in real life.

I see it all the time.

Exhibit A: my own life.

I'm not an adult "ugly duckling", but I'm insignificant enough to have most people just ignore me. I'm somehow invisible.

I see handsome blokes and pretty gals being noticed whilst I could be under some Invisibility cloak.

I'm not jealous (for the most excellent reason that I don't give a fig), but that shows me for certain that appearances is what most people pay attention to. They don't care about the contents of the "book"; they look at the cover and decide that the pretty ones are the ones worth investigating.

This is just an observation and a statement.

Exhibit B: my hair.

I'm not an old lady, but... my DNA decided that it would be a good idea to start turning my hair white.

And so... I've had retired people offer me their seats on the bus (okay... I may look a tad tired, but my two main wrinkles are laugh lines; they must be looking at my hair and jump to conclusion).

Exhibit C: my old jacket.

Yes, it's old. It does look old, but it's clean... but it does look old, and Mother advised me to not go to work with that rag as I could risk having people giving me money to buy a new one.

I don't care about the way it looks because I firmly believe that appearances are not important.

Some people will stop at my not-pretty face, my almost white hair, and my ancient jacket (I'm still not giving a fig).

I believe that what's in my brain and my heart is more important than the way I look. Then again, I always open the books I "meet".

Editing Sense&Sensibility / Edition de Raison & sentiment

We've barely started working on the first edition of Sense and Sensibility, but we discovered that there were many things that were different in the first 1811 version.

It can be "just" punctuation, but it can also be full sentences that disappeared or changed in later versions.

Being researchers, we pointed out the differences in footnotes, but it makes for a dry reading.

We briefly considered printing the differences in a different colours, but this might not suit all our readers.

Then... we thought about underlining the differences. It wouldn't interfere with reading, but it would signal the differences.

We could have a Notes section after the novel, in order to point out the differences in later versions.

What do you think? Do you think underlining would work, or should we use bold characters as well - or just bold characters?  

Do we keep the footnote numbers in the text to point out the differences signalled in the Notes?

Nous avons à peine commencé à travailler sur les premières pages de la première édition de Raison et sentiment, mais nous avons ainsi découvert qu'il existe de nombreuses différences dans la première version de 1811.

Il s'agit le plus souvent simplement de ponctuation différente, mais il y a aussi des phrases entières qui ont disparu des versions suivantes ou ont changé.

En tant que chercheuses, nous avons naturellement utilisé des notes de bas de page, mais cela rend la lecture ennuyeuse.

Nous avons évoqué la possibilité d'utiliser une autre couleur pour les différences, mais il est possible que cela ne convienne pas à tous nos lecteurs.

Nous avons ensuite pensé souligner les différences. Cela n'interférerait pas avec la lecture, mais signalerait quand même les différences.

Nous pourrions avoir un chapitre de Notes à la fin de l'ouvrage afin de signaler les différences dans les versions ultérireures.

Qu'en pensez-vous ? Pensez-vous que souligner les différences serait suffisant ou devrions-nous les signaler en gras également - ou utiliser seulement des caractères en gras ?

Gardons-nous les numéros des notes de bas de page dans les texte afin de faire référence aux différences signalées dans les notes finales ?

Second Portrait on Canvas

I do know that I still need a lot of training, but I'm having fun, and, even though portraiture is an art from hell, it's quite addictive.

So... here's my latest painting:

Censorship in the 21st Century

Long time no post, but the summer's properly demented, and some of us have Internet woes (and Usagi's still in Kyoto). Basically, reduced team is no fun...

We've made a choice about Racine's Phedre et Hyppolyte: we'll have the original spelling and typography, and a modern version (just the old one could be fun, but it'd be really tough without a more modern one on the right page).

We're still working on Wilde's Salomé, but we're taking our time to make sure that we'll give you a nice translation - and a bilingual introduction.

When I have some free time, I work on the fourth novel in my Sci-Fi universe (the current news are feeding the plot bunny in a rather dark way).

Then... bank news to be able to launch our website.

So... we've found a bank, but because of an annoying technicality, we can only open the account in September (sometime in September).

But what's utterly frustrating is that Cousin Chris had managed to open an account for us at her main bank. She'd had to go through artificial hoops to please the arrogant plonkers, but we had an account... until we asked for the reference that would allow us to buy an e-commerce plugin so that we could safely link our website to our account.

The female that called my cousin at my aunt's (even though my cousin never gives any phone number because she does business at 2 am by e-mail - because she gets some written proof) was a proper nightmare. 

First, she claimed that she didn't have access to our file (then, how did she get my aunt's phone number, um?), and she demanded to be given the names, addresses, and e-mails of the website provider and webmaster; to quote my cousin: 'No way in friggin' Hell!!!!!'.

My cousin's plan was to get the reference, give it to the plugin company, buy the plugin, install it, buy the website, migrate our site that's on Xampp, test everything, and launch the ship.

That wasn't possible, as the phoning biped demanded to be allowed to see our website first because she wanted... to censor it!

She literally said that she had to "check our website for references to religion, sex, and drug".

Well, 95% of our books are LGBTQ-friendly (though there's nothing graphic, but with "Miss Censorship-Sunshine", we'd have ended up with an empty catalogue). And Shakespeare's potentially controversial. And Wilde's play was already censored on religious grounds - from the late 19th century, up to the 1930s!

What we miss is stuff about drugs (thanks for the plot bunny, arrogant bank biped!).

So the account was closed, because none of us (not even our accountant, who growled with us, editors and authors) were ready to accept censorship in the 21st century.

Do you know what the other bank only asked us? That the website had an SSL certificate, which we will have. Internet security is their only concern.

Right now, we're plotting all together to report the censoring biped to someone much higher than her in the food chain.

I'll have some painting to show you soon, maybe a video, and we're planning to take pictures of our paper babies to add them to the website (we'll share some with you then).

See you soon (hopefully)!

Book News & Other Nuttiness

We're still working on launching our publishing company. Everything's slow, but things are taking shape - we think (and hope!).

I'm slowly working on editing the text of the first publication of Sense and Sensibility. It's fascinating to see what was changed in the following publication.

I'm trying to find the best way to show the differences between the two versions; I "fear" it's between classical footnotes and a different colour to show what changed. Basically I'll have to print tests...

I'm also working on checking my translation of Salomé, but I'm not going to rush because I want to be proud of that work, and poor Wilde deserves a decent translation of his work (I could hire a necromancer to have a lil' chat with both Douglas and Ross to tell them what I think of their "work" - Wilde must have been heartbroken to allow Douglas's translation to be printed... with whatever amount of correction Wilde did to the "text").

Speaking of Wilde, Cousin Chris is writing the bilingual introduction for our edition of Salomé (no massive discoveries like for our Shakespeare, but interesting facts...).

We're working on Racine's Phedre et Hippolyte. This time, we don't know if we want the original fonts and spelling and a more modern one, or just the version from 1677.

I'm also working on a comedy (Merlin, that's *hard*!!!). 

I know I mentioned this somewhere in my blog, but I need the title to work on my stories, and the one I have for this play is a tad nutty. I keep thinking, 'It's for a comedy, why not have a barmy title?'...

I've just read quite a weird "review", as a reader was telling one of our authors to not portray old people in "bed". There's nothing graphic in the story, but the person was disgusted by the idea of an old man, and an old woman making love.

Merlin! That happens in real life, and I fail to understand why that person thinks that it's more disgusting to picture old people making love than younger bipeds doing it. 

Good grief! Having fun in bed happens - and if it happens after 70... Lucky bipeds!

It was demented to read something almost ordering the author to not do that again in the future. Of course, it was an anonymous review, so the author could not answer and kindly tell that person that:

A) No one is forcing "it" to read any story, and closing a browser, or a book, is always an option.

B) Writers will write whatever they want. You can read it, or not.

[Once upon a time, drunk on positive feedback, I added a chapter to a short story I had written, and... I still regret adding that chapter. The story is still good, but not as good as in its first form. That was quite a lesson.]

Am I a Goddess?

I know that I'm the empress of Mars {still a long story*}, but it seems that I'm a goddess, too.

I mean, if relatives and bipeds I work with expect me to know things I was never told about or do things I was never instructed to do,...... then, I must be a goddess if they think I'm this omniscient. Right. Right?

I won't give any example from my very own Dursleys, but the work-bipeds are fair game.

The latest incident has me needing to transfer something, but... no one told me where to transfer it - or how to do it. And yet, I'm expected to do it. Oh! And no one told me I was supposed to do the transfer; I discovered that *completely* by chance.

To conclude, I've got to be a very good omniscient goddess - otherwise bipeds would actually tell me what they expect from me, and I wouldn't have to rely on sheer luck, or a crystal ball.

Perhaps I should add "gifted Terran goddess" to my bio (I'm only half-joking)...

*: It's not, but it looks good in my bio, and it sounds mysterious... *mwaha*

La SNCF, c'est (vraiment) [pas] possible

Si vous n'avez besoin de rien vous serez tout de suite servi.

Mon dernier voyage en train ?

Je me lève à l'aube (littéralement), arrive à la gare bien en avance et mon premier train part... A la moitié du voyage, une erreur d'aiguillage (ben voyons !) nous fait prendre un retard de 25 minutes - dommage, je n'ai que 20 minutes de battement pour attraper mon second train.
Que va-t-il se passer ?
Le contrôleur nous annonce que la correspondance sera assurée quand même cinq minutes avant l'arrivée en gare (merci pour le stress, les gars !).
Une fois sur le quai, ben t'as intérêt à battre le record de vitesse avec ta valise si tu veux l'avoir le TGV (quelques palpitations plus tard et un poignet abîmé à cause de ma valise super lourde, la porte s'est carrément refermée sur mes fesses - on courrait tous sur le quai, mais le chef de gare était pressé pour l'autre TGV... Ben mon gars, t'as qu'à apprendre à tes collègues à aiguiller les trains correctement).

L'année dernière, la SNCF m'avait laissée en rade à pas d'heure dans un gare dangereuse (Mère avait payé ce billet-là).
Je râle et le médiateur me donne raison (en bons de voyage, mais c'est déjà ça). La SNCF ne conteste pas, mais ne fait rien.
Depuis plus de quinze jours, après être passée en agence où on m'a dit de téléphoner au SAV, je tente de joindre ce service, mais le choix d'option ne marche tout simplement pas (avec deux téléphones !).
Je demande de l'aide à la SNCF sur Twitter et de fil en aiguille, on me demande les références du problème pour nous aider, puis nom, prénom, adresse, courriel, numéro de téléphone (l'âge du capitaine et mon mot de passe Twitter, aussi, peut-être ?!!!).
On me promet la relance du service hier...
... ce matin ? Ah, bah, "contactez un autre service, nous, on ne peut rien faire".
Conclusion : ils se payent nos tronches, bossent comme des "plonkers" (ouaip, de l'anglais, je sais, mais 1 - je suis bilingue et 2 - c'est le mot parfait pour les décrire !) et refusent de payer ce qu'ils doivent.
A en juger par les messages d'autres personnes sur les forums de la SNCF, le SAV est souvent en rade et ils bossent quand ils ont le temps.

Bloody plonkers!

Editing News

Now that we've sent our edition of Shakespeare's Sonnets and A Lover's Complaint to be officially registered, and that our work on editing Oscar Wilde's Salomé (the original French edition, and a new translation in English by yours truly - the introduction is being written by Cousin Editor-in-chief) is nearing completion, we've made a discovery: we love editing the books that we loved reading.

We're still working on our own stories or works, but it's properly exhilarating and possibly addictive to go back to the original texts, edit and dust them off (or even make discoveries), and then share them with you, dear Readers.

The day we had the idea to publish our favourite works, we came up with this list:

William Shakespeare: Sonnets - Much Ado About Nothing

Oscar Wilde: Salomé (we decided to translate it into proper English when we read how it's been treated by Douglas)

Jane Austen: Sense and Sensibility

Jean Racine: Phèdre

Charles Dickens: A Christmas Carol

We have now added:

The Forme of Cury

Edmond Rostand: Cyrano de Bergerac (a request from my aunt)

Even if it was a lot of work, editing Shakespeare gave us access to fonts that can mimic the ligatures used in the early years of printing.

Last night, in order to do something soothing after dealing with the infuriating banker, we had a look at the first edition of Racine's Phèdre et Hippolyte, and we discovered that he wrote an introduction, and that the text of the royal privilege allowing him to print the play was printed there, as well.

We're not planning to make a facsimile of it, but we started thinking that it'd be different, unusual, original to publish a version of the text as it was first printed. Perhaps it's quite a niche, but we really think it could be a different kind of edition.

De is plotting more short stories (focussing on friendship this time).

Chris is still formatting her PhD.

I've got two Muff&Sherly stories ready to be edited (and the next novel is whispering in my ear). I've been thinking about my Sordid Fairy Tales, and my Victorian spy plot, too.

We're quite busy.

Now, if only we could find a banker with a brain and get this e-bookstore started... 

PS: if there are books that you'd like us to edit, you're more than welcome to make suggestions.

Silent Banker

Hello, dear Readers!

We've got a slight case of "We are not amused" going on.

Our Editor-in-chief, my (usually patient and sweet) cousin, sent the links about the (local equivalent of the) Senate and Home Office stating that she is right to our new contact at our bank (over a decade with them for both of us, and not a single problem!), and... nothing.

We do not know if he's angry about the Law lesson, if he's asking his superior what to do with the mean gal who's sending him official texts showing that the bank is ignoring the Law, or if he's doing his job and opening us an account so we can start our online activity.

Not a clue...

Since none of us is a fan of silence... I contacted another bank in the night, got an answer this morning, and handed the baby to Cousin Editor-in-chief. Now... we wait.

I'd like to officially declare here that it is exhausting to deal with people who aren't even competent at their jobs. The number of arrogant cavepeople trying to bully their way through life is quite tiring.

I'll keep you posted on our launch.

Love,

Dru

Nul n'est censé ignorer la loi

The title of this post, which basically says that all citizens are supposed to know the Law, is just a saying, as only specialists and Law professionals may know most of it - not all of it (only a Vulcan could do that!).

If people cannot know all the laws of their country of residence, it's no reason to wilfully ignore most of the laws (people should know the rights that protect them, and the limits they've got to abide by).

Why this legal post now?

Well... I've got Cousin Chris fuming, right next to me. You see, her main form of ID is a bit old, and she knows that she can't use it to leave the country, for example, but... the Sénat and the Ministère de l'Intérieur both declare that it is still valid to prove her identity as long as the photo looks like her (and it bloody does!). So what's the problem? Well, the bank she contacted (her bank - and mine, too! - the bank that can see everything we buy and pay, and where our money comes from) just told her that her ID's no longer valid, which is, according to the Sénat and the Ministère de l'Intérieur, not legal, as they're not above the Sénat and the Ministère de l'Intérieur.

So... banks can play with our money as if it were Monopoly money, and ignore the Law?
How delightful!

We all agree that we must NOT cave and bow to them, because that bank is ignoring the Law - and we know it, and we're going to remind them because we're looking for business partners who trust us (and those know they can trust us), not bullies who can treat us like crooks, liars, and potential thieves!

Even if we do have to go look elsewhere, and it postpones the opening of our e-bookstore, we're not going to do as the bank bullies want, and we're not going to potentially subject our lovely patrons to arrogant ignoramuses who think someone died and made them kings.

Now... I'd better go find something soothing for the team, the five of us are currently fuming like a volcano in a weird mood.

Music, Please! -> 【MeseMoa.】Shadow Kiss【1st album】

Flurchhhhhhhhhhhh!

I don't give a fig if it's "fan service" or, basically, whatev'; they're really good, have a great sound, and a nice choreography. I'm glad I caught an article about them.

Enjoy!

De l'incompétence et l'arrogance de la BNP

L'année dernière, j'avais claqué la porte de la BNP après de très nombreuses années chez eux à cause de leur façon absolument pathétique de "travailler".

C'était pour mon compte courant personnel, mais il était quand même question que notre compagnie ouvre un compte pro chez eux - uniquement parce que le conseiller pro vers lequel j'avais aiguillé ma cousine se montrait plus que compétent et à l'écoute de nos besoins.

Le mois dernier, nous convenons qu'il est temps d'ouvrir le compte pro et ma cousine donne ses disponibilités au gentil conseiller qui d'habitude répond par retour de courriel en un jour (deux max).

Rien.

Transfert de message avec une fusée de détresse.

Rien.

Re-transfert (étonné et inquiet).

Rien.

Re-re-transfert (là, on passe au stade "vous êtes à l'hôpital ou quoi ?").

Rien.

Comme les informaticiens de la BNP ne sont pas des flèches... Il y a peut-être un blocage du message.

Nouveau message ("nous sommes prêtes pour le lancement").

Pas de réponse.

Re-nouveau message ("vous êtes en un seul morceau ou il y a problème avec notre projet ?").

Silence radio.

Là, ma cousine décide de se la jouer Lino Ventura dans Les tontons flingueurs et elle déboule à l'agence... et alors là, un vrai festival.

Ma cousine explique qu'elle voudrait voir le conseiller XYZ à la dame de l'accueil.

Sans sourciller (et sans commentaire au sujet du récent silence de XYZ), elle propose un rendez-vous à ma cousine... pour la fin de la semaine prochaine, mais c'est un rendez-vous, hein ?

Et ben non...

Le rendez-vous serait avec Madame JKL, parce que XYZ n'est plus là (mort, viré, muté ? On ne sait toujours pas). 

Incidemment, quand j'ai récupéré ma cousine (qui aurait pu machouiller du neutronium tellement elle était furax en remontant de la banque), j'ai pu louer son instinct de survie : JKL, c'est celle qui m'avait téléphoné alors que j'avais indiqué de ne jamais m'appeler et qui n'avait jamais fait ce qu'elle m'avait promis de faire. Une vraie perle!

Vu notre statut hyper particulier, ma cousine n'était pas ravie à l'idée de tout réexpliquer à quelqu'un d'autre, mais la personne à l'accueil n'est même pas émue ("Vous n'avez pas le choix").

Et là, le coup de génie. Ma cousine explique à son interlocutrice que nous avons notre SIRET, nos preuves de domiciliation, mais nos pièces d'identité ne sont plus toutes techniquement valides et XYZ avait reconnu que la décision du Sénat s'appliquait dans notre cas ("Elle est valable dix ans, mais, même périmée, elle permet à son titulaire de justifier de son identité sur le territoire national, à condition que la photographie soit ressemblante.").

Si ma cousine avait annoncé qu'elle avait la peste, la réaction de la secrétaire n'aurait pas été plus dégoûtée, apparemment. En gros, par les temps qui courent, la BNP se doit d'être méfiante (n’empêche que ma cousine a la même tête que sur sa carte périmée - et on va vendre des livres, pas financer des débilos du Moyen-Orient).

Donc rendez-vous annulé par la secrétaire et "Allez à la mairie faire refaire votre carte" (ouaip! Sauf qu'il faut aller à la Préfecture maintenant, et uniquement sur rendez-vous).
Si c'est ça leur niveau de compétence... on a peut-être échappé au pire !

Voulez-vous une cerise sur ce joli gâteau ?

Apparemment XYZ n'est "plus là" depuis un mois - et personne n'a eu l'idée de programmer sa boite de réception afin d'envoyer un message ; un truc entre "Si vous cherchez à contacter XYZ, téléphonez à notre agence" et "XYZ n'est plus disponible, tant pis pour vous, pauvres clowns !".

J'ai ronchonné pour toute la famille hier sur Twitter. Vous croyez que quelqu'un de la BNP m'aurait contactée, histoire de régler le problème et d'avoir un nouveau client professionnel ? Non. Toujours pas émus les p'tits gars.

La secrétaire avait pris l'adresse de courriel de ma cousine. Sans doute déjà effacée et même pas transmise à JKL !

Ouaip ! Je crois que nous avons échappé au pire.

Ma pauvre cousine va se retrouver à gérer un module bancaire en plus de la gestion normale du site internet.

La BNP nous a ignoré (sans même rien savoir sur notre projet). Si par bonheur notre aventure marche, ma cousine prépare déjà sa revanche (en mode Vésuve croisé avec le Krakatoa).

Writtinge lik its 1609

     I'm done editing our version of Shakespeare's Sonnets (I still have to work on A Lover's Complaint -shshhhhhhhh!), and it was astronomically interesting.

     After making a discovery about denialists in the introduction I wrote, I may have solved a puzzle that was generated by a massive misprint. I shan't pretend that I am right, but I will declare that my conclusion makes a lot more sense than anything that was corrected before.

     A thing that I realized, as I was fighting with the original texts in the Quarto, is that most of the spelling mistakes that are made today look like the way things were printed in 1609! "It was better then I thought" and other oddities like that.

It's fascinating to see that the rules that took so long to be created have almost disappeared since people started texting and using the Internet!

Perhaps the spirit of George Eld (the printer of the Quarto) floated inside the heads of too many people...

Modern typos are still weird, but the parallel with 1609 is properly nutty.

I just thought I'd share...

Varieties of Denialism

Bipeds that cannot accept facts because they don't fit their agenda, beliefs, or whatever have a way to make my blood boil.

With the film Denial coming to our screens, the number of Holocaust denialists has become more visible with these decerebrated bipeds flooding forums and comments threads.

Just this morning, I've seen a bunch of village idiots doubt that the Holocaust happened; one even found it fishy to not be allowed to doubt the evidence - and the testimonies of the survivors! There were also idiots adding the Holodomor to their list of denials.

As a historian, I understand that we can doubt that the battle of Agincourt happened exactly the way it is reported in archives - but we can dig up testimonies and get a fair idea of what happened. All one needs is hard work - and a working brain.

What I cannot understand is the collection of village idiots, from all over the rock, who can read all the documents we have in archives, and who can meet survivors or read their testimonies (be it about the Holodomor, the Holocaust, or even the sex slaves for the Imperial Japanese army), and who say, 'Nope! I don't believe it! It just can't be true!'.

They make me want to yell and make them sit down and educate themselves until their two and a half brain cells have a spark of illumination.

My introduction for the publication of Shakespeare's Sonnets for Éditions Aikyō is dealing with all the varieties of denialists about Shakespeare.

I ended up dividing contemporary denialists into two categories: prime and secondary.

Secondary denialists are the collections of village idiots who might well doubt that our planet orbits around the sun if it became fashionable in their circles to think so, or who do not have enough brain cells to understand facts and the truth. They're infuriating, but I fear most of them are just too stupid.

Much worse and twisted are the prime denialists. These are bipeds who, I think, do understand the archives and the testimonies, but who have decided to not believe them. These bipeds have decided to spread lies (not "post-truth", not "alternative facts" - let's call a spade a spade: they're LIES); maybe they're doing that to enjoy the chaos and pain their words will generate, and/or maybe they have some hidden agenda to promote - be it hatred for one subdivision of humanity, or be it to promote their own work.

If we take into account the scary number of secondary denialists, the prime denialists have a lot of quarterwits (I do fear we're talking about creatures way below the average halfwit) who are ready and willing to pay to buy their books or watch their films or documentaries.

We have ignoramuses and simpletons falling into the cunning traps of manipulators and profiters who would say and do anything to make money and become famous.

Both categories annoy me, but I have some compassion for secondary denialists... Prime denialists, not so much, as I see them as liars and dubious, devious, and unethical creatures who would deny that their own mothers gave birth to them if they could gain anything from spitting that lie.

I do believe that "Knowledge is power", and I will always fight against prime denialists who try to pervert what decent people know to be truths.

Of the Incredible Arrogance of Thieving Bankers

Back to bank-land, as I momentarily took over from my poor cousin (her fangs are firmly planted in the floor, and the next time a banker tells her a lie, she might well turn into a wifwolf!).

Today, I had news from Bank#2:

the gal gave me prices (without including the VAT!), and they're expensive, and for that price:

- one must add a percentage per transaction AND a percentage according to the amount of the transaction (because we're not paying them enough per month already!)

- they want to know everything about every Jack, Jill, Bob, Bethany, and Paul who works with us (name, postal address, and phone number). Funny they're not asking about their mums' phone numbers, blood types, and tax returns!

- they can't bloody spell (so how are we supposed to believe that they can encode?)

- they don't seem to be doing much to protect us (I e-mailed the gal a long list of potentially problematic situations, and I look forward to reading how they're planning to protect us in the cyberspace!)

- it's our webmaster who's supposed to configure everything (how cute! My cousin and I are the wedmistresses!)

Honestly, I answered the gal and asked questions, but I've got a bad feeling.

I'll contact again Bank#1, and if it comes to that, since we'll be doing all the hard work, we'll buy a bank thingy for Wordpress.

The banks keep being the most frustrating part of this business launching thingy (a solid tie with the Revenue guys, though), but we can definitely see the finish/launch line now.

Nutty Update: Bank#2's gal answered me. She'd like me to phone her coz I asked too many questions by e-mail.

ô.O

Oooookay. To Bank#1...

Positive Things

Honestly... I'm expecting something utterly weird to happen soon-ish.

Good things have been happening since my last post (though nothing's perfect, eh), and there are so many positive news that something in me is afraid (it's silly, I know, but... you won't change me; I worry).

Work is okay (and may well become more than okay if things go on unfolding the way they seem to be going).

The plot bunnies are awesome and obedient, and my writing schedule's working fine.

And there's my broken tooth... It's now repaired (it took fifteen minutes!). If whatever my dentist glued in the hole holds (it may be veneer, but I'm not sure, and I was too shaken to ask), I'm good... otherwise, I'll need a crown. The part where I was "lucky" is that I was convinced that my tooth was nerveless, but it's still alive. I could have been in quite a lot of pain. <insert shudders here>

Perhaps thing will be slightly better this year...............?