What's the quickest way? Train or Aston Martin?

Jeremy Clarkson, James May and Richard Hammond organise an epic race from Surrey to Monaco to see if taking the trip in an Aston Martin DB9 is faster than taking the train. How silly they are! But that's the whole point, I think.

Cloverfield

After a two-weeks exam session, it's now time for me to write a little bit more on this blog. Being on "holiday" for the next week will allow me to surf the Internet a little bit more than usual, watching crappy videos on YouTube, but also reading articles on UNCYCLOPEDIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I discovered this website about one week ago, and since then, I've made incredible discoveries. Basically, it's the un-Wikipedia, the corrupted version of it, without any single piece of reliable information. … Or maybe it is actually reliable. No one knows actually… Anyway, my point is to tell you that henceforth (I like that word), I shall be featuring at least one Uncyclopedia article in every blog entry I post here. (Because I don't think it'd be appropriate to do that on germ@namur…)

So, since today is 18 January 2008, I had to write a few words about this Internet phenomenon (I mean as for the advertising campaign based on speculations) nicknamed Cloverfield. But what can I say more about it? I haven't seen the film (obviously). Maybe you can read the Uncyclopedia article about it.

If you read other articles, you'll notice not only that most of them criticize Jesusland (that is to say the United States), but also that they feature so-called Oscarwildeizsms. What I like most about Uncyclopedia are the twisted pictures. Wanna see Mr Bean when he was a toddler? Click here. He's got some uncanny resemblance with the Spanish Prime Minister Zapatero. I'm sure Bruno will confirm.

Today's featured article is devoted to chavs. (YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!) I came up with this idea today, during the break between the two parts of the English grammar exam, watching through the window and peeking at dozens of young teenagers smoking and spitting on the pavement, and having a typical outfit and behaviour. But let's go back to chavs, now. As I'm too lazy to invent a proper definition, I just quote this, from the Wikipedia entry:

Chav, also Charv/Charver and Chavette (pronounced /ʧæv/, with 'ch' as in chair) are mainly derogatory slang terms in the United Kingdom for a subcultural stereotype fixated on fashions such as imitation gold, poorly made jewellery and fake designer clothing (often Burberry), combined with elements of working class British street fashion. The term appeared in mainstream dictionaries in 2005.^[1][2]

There are regional variations; in North East England (particularly in the Sunderland and Newcastle upon Tyne areas) the variant charv or charver/charva is most commonly used and has been used since the early 1990s, while in the south east chav and chavette are the usual forms. What is unusual is that the vowel in charver is ɑ: (as in 'far') and the mainstream UK equivalent uses the æ (as in 'cat') vowel in chav which goes against the usual North-South (a:/æ) vowel distinction.^[3]

The defining features of the chav clothing is the Burberry pattern (notably a now-discontinued baseball cap) and from a variety of other casual and sportswear brands. Tracksuits, hoodies, track suit bottoms and baseball caps are particularly associated with this stereotype. Response to the term has ranged from amusement to criticism that it is a new manifestation of classism.^[4] The term has also been associated with juvenile delinquency, the "ASBO Generation", "Hoodie culture", and "Yob culture".

So, it must look like this:


And his car, the Chavrolet:


Basically, it's what we call "Ronny" in Wallonia, the female counterpart being a "Ronnette". The Ronny is to be distinguished from the barakî, who is older, fatter and often poorer. In France, a Ronny is a Jacky (and his female is a Jackette) or a "racaille", and in Flanders they apparently call them Johnny and Marina.

But what do they say about them in the Uncyclopedia entry? A few witty quote, first:

"The Chav is proof that evolution has gone wrong. Unfortunately, it is also proof that survival of the fittest is comlpetely wrong. If I was right about that, none of them would make it past 20."
— Charles Darwin

"Amazing creatures! They rival the chimpanzee with their use of simple tools and basic language!"
— Jane Goodall

And the Un-definition:

Chavvus Blingus) is a 'species' closely related to the American Wigger (Homo Phobius) or Gangsta (Homo Blingius), the Scottish Ned or Gadgie (Homo Gadgness) the Australian Bogan (Homo Boganis), the Irish Scanger (Homo Retardus), the Finnish Pissis (Homo Pissisus), the Russian Gopnik (Homo Gopnikitus), the Romanian Cocalar (Homo Cockalarus), and the Singaporean Ah Beng (Homo Chankeus) all of whom being distantly related off-shoots of the human race (Homo Burberey capius). The French word for chav is "racaille" or "caillera" (whereas the worldwide term is generally 'Prick').

Here are some of the lines that made me roll on the floor:

The chav has become far too common, for they breed like filthy, filthy rabbits. Not enough people have been firing fireworks at them in the street lately, and so they have begun to grow out of control. Hated by a good portion of humanity,(the other portion just enjoys making money out of them), these creatures are easily distinguishable; they tend to gather in groups in towns, particularly shopping precincts; they talk some kind of bastard dialect of their own devising, the most important words being ‘innit and nar’.

Somehow the female side of the species decides to follow these 'Hard Gangsta's' around and constantly help spread around various STI's, mostly Syphilis, AIDS, Herpes & Chlomedia. This behavious is used to keep the 'Gangsta Number' (population) of the male chavs at bay. Despite this, the chav population is still on the increase.

Helpful Chav to English Translations (Click here to see a handy guide to chav speech)

One of them, King Michael, won £9 million thanks to the lottery… I'm gonna stop here: I think it was fun enough for today. Or maybe just watch this ad:



I don't think that the Lego Group thought that there could be ambiguity…

Death Notice (1)

The famous French choregrapher Maurice Béjart, most know for his revolutionary ballets, died today at the age of 80. I knew him especially through the Snuls, that bunch of comedians from Brussels who were quite prominent in Wallonia at the beginning of the nineties, relying on surrealistic humour. They often made fun of his ballets and their pseudo-news bulletins always mentioned some kind of a "nouveau ballet Béjart". But unfortunately, I didn't find anything about that on YouTube, but I found an fragment of a show:



The idea was to go in a café and ask somebody to say something, and the more silly they were, the more chance they had to be on the show. That's what happened with this bloke (a real snul, a Brussels word meaning something like "idiot") who thought he could sing "Singin' in the Rain".

Let's come back to Béjart. Several Belgian newspapers are known for displaying headings that include a rather audacious pun. Here's what my mother sent me today:

"Maurice Béjart est parti faire danser les étoiles" (La Libre Belgique)
"Le dernier pas de danse de Béjart" (Le Soir)

The latest news bulletins say that his ashes will be spread in the sea in Ostend. Some also claim that he wanted to become a Belgian citizen short before he died, but this won't be possible, I guess.

As long as we're in a French-speaking mood, let me show you what my old friend Cyril tells me about the French language in a recent e-mail:

On dit souvent que jouer sur les mots est facile, mais est-il si facile de jouer avec les mots ? Un mot peut avoir plusieurs significations évidentes et souvent connues de tous. Une association de mots peut avoir beaucoup plus d'impact, car elle fait réfléchir. Ne dit-on pas que la réflexion est une des magies que la nature a confié à l'homme ? Si c'est le cas, les mots n'en sont-ils pas les incantations et la langue la baguette ?

I think he should have become a poet!

Shame on Him! Nocties: Hervé Novelli

Hervé Novelli is a French politician, currently State Secretary of the Minister of Economy and Finance, among others. This guy was originally linked to right extremism, but seems to have redeemed. (If that is possible…) Anyway, I saw his picture in the newspaper and I couldn't help but blaming him for his awful hairstyle. Yet another combover. Shame on him, thus.

Shame on Him! Ter: Valéry Giscard d'Estaing

Valéry Giscard d'Estaing is a former French president. We can thus assume that he's a wise and intelligent man. But he wasn't looking like an intelligent man when he was wearing this ugly combover in the 1960s and 1970s. I've always known him bald, but I found pictures on which he appears just like you can see him on the left. Now, he's almost completely bald (of course he is: he's 81!).

Shame on Him! Bis repetita: Laurent Fabius

Laurent Fabius is a famous socialist politician. He's quite intelligent, as we can assume from a former Prime Minister, but also according to his whole career. But he's got a combover, that's why he looks like a pillock after all.

A Dutch Glimpse On French Elections

In order to practise my writing skills in Dutch, I decided to transcribe what was said in one of their programs. I chose the NOS-journaal from 5th May. It's a report about concerts in Amsterdam as part of the celebration of the liberation of the Netherlands after Second World War.

Titels

– Bevrijdingsconcert op de Amstel.

– Frankrijk is klaar voor de verkiezingen.

– Familiecontact via de satelliet met Uruzgan [Afghanistan]

Presentatrice: Noraly Beyer

• Goienavond. Op de Amstel in Amsterdam was zoals elk jaar op 5 mei het Bevrijdingsconcert, in aanwezigheid van Koningin Beatrix. Het Metropoolorkest speelde op een drijvend podium en begeleidde de zangeres Hind en Izaline Calister.

De bedrijdingsfestivals die in twaalf andere steden werden gehouden duren nog tot halftwaalf.
——————————
• Over minder dan tien uur gaat Frankrijk de stemlokalen openen voor de tweede en beslissende ronde van de presidentsverkiezingen. Maar voor sommige van de vierenveertig miljoen kiesgerechtende Fransen is het stemmen al begonnen. Fransen in de overzeeuwse gebieden en in het (???) buitenland mochten vandaag het spits afbijten. Lange rijen op een zonnige zaterdag bij de Franse ambassade in Washington. Sommige /ekspeksts/ moesten huren wachten voordat ze hun stem konden uitbrengen. En bij het Consulaat in New York was het vandaag ook druk.

(Getuige: Fransman vertaald.)
Dit is een cruciaal moment voor Frankrijk. We moeten een keuze maken: Een nieuwe weg inslaan, of doorgaan met hetzelfde.

Lange rijen waren er ook in Frans-Guyana. De ongeveer één miljoen kiezers in de overzeeuwse gebieden mochten alvast stemmen om problemen met het tijdsverschil te voorkomen. In Frankrijk zelf is het vandaag een dag van rust voor de kandidaten, maar voor de trouwste aanhangers is het de laatste kans om kiezers over de streep te trekken, zoals hier in Parijs. Morgen om acht uur gaan de Franse stemlokalen open.

De rechtse Sarkozy en de linkse Royal hebben een heel ander idee over welke kant op moet. Hun standpunt over een paar belangrijke thema's op een rij.

[Verslag]
Wat betreft werk wil Nicolas Sarkozy dat de Fransen meer gaan werken, en ook meer gaan verdienen. En hij belooft lastenverlichting voor het bedrijfsleven. Ségolène Royal wil vijfhonderdduizend startbanen voor jongeren creëren. Ook het geweld willen ze aanpakken. Sarkozy wil hogere straffen voor jongeren, ook voor 16- en 17-jarigen. Royal wil juist de politie terug in de wijk en militaire begeleiding voor criminele jongeren. Wat betreft integratie wil Sarkozy dat er een ministerie komt van immigratie en nationaal identiteit, en hij wil inburgeringscursussen naar een Nederlands model. Royal wil dat de ghetto's verdwijnen, en vindt dat scholen gemengder moeten worden. En voor Europa wil Sarkozy een miniverdrag dat door het Franse Parlement moet worden goedgekeurd, terwijl Royal voor een nieuwe socialere grondwet is, die is opnieuw aan de Fransen wil voorleggen via een referendum.

Prerelease and Election

Today was not such a good day for me. It isn't dreadful at all, but not really nice.

Today, I took part in a card tournament, involving this game called Magic—The Gathering, due to the release of a new edition at the beginning of May. (That is to say that it was a prerelease tournament, as we call it.) This time, the prerelease introduced Future Sight, a curious set, I have to admit, full with old capacities and such things that I won't tell you about, because you won't understand anything. Unless you're a born Magic duellist.

Well, we all had to build a new 40-cards deck (i.e. pack of cards) with means of 75 new cards. The point is that my pack of cards was not really good, so that I ended up with a rotten deck. After two rounds (i.e. a best-out-of-three match), I changed my deck completely, but I lost three other rounds.

At the end of the tournament, I had zero point. Absolutely nothing. Usually, I get at least 3 points (from a concession or else), but not here. It was sad for me. But I got used to it. It was my 16th prerelease, and I'm not a good player at all. I attend these prereleases because I like that kind of small tournament, and it gives me the opportunity to play at least once every three months. And to get a foil promotional card, which you can see on the top.

The other thing that disappointed me a little bit is that Sarkozy and Royal are still in the race for being elected president of France. I was hoping that Bayrou would make it to the second round, because he seemed to be the only one with somewhat of a programme — unlike Sarkozy's fascistic views and Royal's shalowness. Polls were saying that if Bayrou was opposed to Sarkozy on the second round, Bayrou would win. And now, as I prefer that consensual woman to that angry, pro-war, anti-immigration little jerk, I'd vote for Royal.

The fact is that I'm not French. And that's a good thing. I wouldn't like to be French. Definitely not. France is a beautiful country, but they are too different; they quarrel and argue on everything, due to their lack of ignorance as far as the compromis à la belge is concerned. It's curious that we pay so much attention to these elections, while we hardly ever talk about Dutch elections, and never about that charming little country of Luxembourg…

Fort Boyard

While we were in the North-West of France, we decided to go to La Rochelle, and more particularily the little town of Fourras, where a company organises trips to go round the well-known Fort Boyard. It was really interesting to see for real something that you saw about 100 times on TV. When you are close to it, you recognize those places where the candidates dive in the water, etc., or you can figure out the size of this peculiar building on the sea, which was meant to be a marine defensive point in the time of Napoléon's.
On the left of the picture, you have the "dark side of the Fort" (because you never see it on telly, with a platform where the candidates and filming crew arrive.

Le Mont-Saint-Michel

In July 2005, my parents, my brother and I went to the North-West side of France, just to see how it looked like. So we went to see the beaches of Omaha, etc., then to the West. We arrived at this well-known place, the Mont-Saint-Michel, an island (sort of) on which a monastry is set, in addition to thousands of shops for tourists coming from all over the world in order to see this curious city which gave the inspiration for the visual look of Minas Tirith in The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King.

Help This Man!

Oh no! A skydiver is hanged on a church… But… Wait! He's got an old American uniform… A G.I.? In France, in Sainte-Mère-l'Eglise?
No, of course. This is just a fake one. This is a reference to what happened on 6 June, 1945: the American forces started their invasion (I think it is) of Normandy in order to kick the German's asses out of France. Skydivers were part of the "show", and one of them, probably blind, didn't manage to avoid the church—there was room everywhere, but still. Being hung there during the whole fight, this soldier became deaf due to the ringing bells (I'm not sure this word is appropriate). This anecdote was reported in the film The Longest Day, with (among others) John Wayne, Sean Connery… and Bourvil (for the local colour).