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…

Long live Belgium!

Fuck YouTube! I had planned to show you the third part of Jeremy Clarkson's Top 100 Cars, as last Sunday and the Sunday before, but these videos and the others that I still had to show you were spotted and deleted. Bitches, as would thatguywiththeglasses say.

It basically means that I have to write about something else.

Today a huge demonstration to support Belgium's unity took place in Brussels. It gathered as much as 35,000 people, according to the police. A petition signed by more than 100,000 people (including myself) was handed in to Armand De Decker, president of the Belgian Senate. A lot of politicians came, too. But the fact is that most of the participants came from French-speaking Belgium, which perhaps show that the Flemish are less interested in Belgium as a united country.

A dozen of Flemish right-wing extremists were arrested because they shouted België barst in front of the Royal Palace — what a bunch of fools!

I'd have taken part to the demo if I lived closer to Brussels. That's all I have to say about it.

As Jeremy Clarkson's top 100 cars disappeared, let's watch something else:

Why are all good Belgian movies Flemish???

Yesterday, we had the opportunity to go and see a Flemish film called Ben X, which has already got several awards and it will perhaps make it to the final 5 in the Foreign Language Film category of the 80th Academy Awards Ceremony in 2008. Wait and see. If you haven't seen the film yet, please watch the trailer:



Ben is kind of a modern Rain Man, but addicted to computer games. He's bullied at school and the film's all about it. This bullying is so harsh that he'll consider committing suicide.

I found this film very interesting in the way the action was filmed; photography was brilliant and innovating. I especially liked the opening credits.

I still wonder why we can't make such achieved movies as this one in Wallonia…

Big Mistake

Today, I came back to my digs in Namur in order to bring last year's course notes and syllabi, but also clothes and food. Staple elements.

At 11 am, I went to the city hall in order to hear the mayor's speech on the occasion of the Fêtes de Wallonie in Namur. The matter is this speech only started at 11.40. If there is any non-Walloon who reads this, I have to say there is an urban legend that says that Namur is a slower city, where people talk slower and… think slower. Even technology works slower. It appears to be true on some occasions.

Anyway, after the speech, we were offered a drink (beer or orange juice). I walked back to my digs. With no internet connexion, I was unable to do anything useful (and I'm not talking about writing posts on this blog), then I decided to go… walking, once again. I knew there would be another official speech to be given by Rudy Demotte, our Ministre-président.

I climbed at the top of the Citadel, and so did official vehicules transporting ambassadors, members of parliaments and ministers. But I realized I wouldn't be allowed to listen to the speech, for it was to be done in a giant tent that you could enter only if you were a VIP. On the opposite side of the road, roughly 50 people beloging to the RWF (Rassemblement Wallonie France, "struggling" for Wallonia — how dumb can be!) were demonstrating. Rather silently, I must say.

Later, I went walking in the city, where groups were singing and people drinking. The streets were slightly being filled with waste. I walked and I nearly bumped into Alexander, that old friend of mine. I was glad I met him, because I hadn't seen anyone else I knew. We both went eating crisps (delicious food, believe me), then we made our way into the overcrowded streets of Namur. At 10, there was a fireworks show to be seen. It lasted 30 minutes — definitely the longest in my entire life.

Then I met another friend of mine, a girl that was living in a digs in the same building as me and with whom I've always got on very well. I spend the following three hours with her and two friends of hers, we were all drinking tiny glasses of pékèt (the local Walloon drink). Round 1 am, just before my friend left us to go back to her flat, I was foolish enough to dare asking her "the" question (basically if she wanted to go out with me), because after all I was a little tipsy, otherwise I'd be too shy.

To make short, let's say that she turned on my invitation by saying that she wasn't interested in me and that I was the exact opposite of what she was looking for.

The last time I got rejected was 14 months ago, and the reason was that the girl I asked out had just been asked out ten minutes earlier!!! You can imagine how I was: destroyed, shattered, annihilated, obliterated. Something like this in my mind:


(Illustration for Magic card "Obliterate", by Kev Walker.)

And I looked like this:

(Illustration of Magic card "Assassinate", by Kev Walker.)

Or that:
(Illustration for Magic card "Incinerate", by Zoltan Boros.)

Basically the "Wrath of God" effect:
(Illustration for Magic card "Wrath of God", by Kev Walker. Man, that guy's great at drawing destruction and pain! By the way, this is my favourite piece of Magic artwork.)

So, I was devastated back in that time. And I had to deal with it alone, because it happened just before the summer holiday. I had hardly anything to do to busy myself with. I don't like losing social contact. That's why I'm so happy to go back to university — even if I know I'll regret these words very soon…

Back in June 2006, I got rejected because of a question asked too late, or else she'd accepted.

Since then, I never practised courtship with a girl. Maybe because I feared I'd need a great deal of time to go out with a girl, but also because I'm hopeless at asking girls out.

I went surfing Wikipedia to look how to translate "se prendre un râteau" and I found a link to another article about love-shyness. Here are some interesting bits:

Love shyness is a phrase created by psychologist Brian G. Gilmartin to describe a specific type of severe chronic shyness. According to his definition, published in Shyness & Love: Causes, Consequences, and Treatments (1987), love-shy people find it difficult to be assertive in informal situations involving potential romantic or sexual partners. For example, a heterosexual love-shy male will have trouble initiating conversations with women because of strong feelings of anxiety.

Dr. Gilmartin researched this phenomenon exclusively in heterosexual men, concluding that (1987, p.1) love-shyness "afflicts approximately 1.5 percent of all American males...[and] will effectively prevent about 1.7 million [U.S.] males...from ever marrying and from ever experiencing any form of intimate sexual contact with women."

There's also a list of criteria, enlightened by reseach on a large number of heterosexual men. I don't correspond to most criteria, but this one struck my mind:

(…) he is a male who desperately wishes to have a relationship with a woman, but does not have one because of his shyness. In other words, he is not a man who consciously chooses not to have romantic or intimate relationships; rather, he wants such relationships but cannot establish them.

That's my problem, I admit it, and I'm dealing with it. The proof is that I actually dared ask someone out. Real love-shy people could not. And most criteria don't apply to me, for instance because I do have many social contacts (I mean at university), including with girls. Apart from that, I also discovered I'm afflicted with involuntary celibacy:

Involuntary celibacy is the state of a person who has not established an intimate relationship or engaged in sexual intercourse for reasons other than voluntary celibacy or sexual abstinence. The term is used especially for adults who, despite general expectations, have had little to no sexual or romantic experience.

Definition

An involuntarily celibate person is someone who fails to initiate or sustain a sexual or romantic relationship, despite his/her desire to experience such a relationship. Afflicted people may suffer from loneliness, frustration, (…).

They also say there are criteria, but just a couple apply to me. My case isn't hopeless, after all. I really want to have a girlfriend. I'll turn 20 in five months' time and that's one of my goals up to then (apart from passing for all my exams). Wish me luck!

Shame on Him! Quinquies: Michel Doomst

Have you ever heard of the little village (or, as they say in Flanders: gemeente) of Gooik, in the Province of Flemish Brabant? I admit I hadn't till I saw its mayor on television. But I'm sure you're wondering why the heck I'm talking about some obscure bloke from the Flemish rural catholic countryside: "What the hell is funny about a casual mayor?". I'm going to explain myself, of course, as I always does. (If not, drop a comment for my lack of cohesion.)

If I come to talk about people in this blog, that's either because I like them, either because I don't like them, either because they make me laugh (precisely because I like them or not).

(Do you still copy? See what I mean? If not, so be it.)

Well, what was I saying anyway? Oh yes, that mayor (or burgemeester) from Gooik. Well, guess what?
…
…
…
This is just a blank to give you time to have a think about it. I'm sure you can guess from the title: I've already written several articles that go in the same direction, making fun of a certain category of people. … No, it's not about rednecks, French "Jackys", Walloon barakîs and other Flemish Johnny's en Marina's.
…
…
…
And now? Did you have enough time to think about it? Or do you need one more minute, or one more clue? … No, it would be too easy. But anyway, I'm gonna put an end to this long wait now, because I'm sure you've already looked at the picture below, haven't you yet? See, I told you!

Yeah, as you can see, this guy is part of the large community of man who are too scared of showing bald flesh on their skulls… His name is Michel Doomst. He's thus the mayor of Gooik, as I said above. He's also a member of Parliament. His party is the CD&V, the leading party in Flanders. The first time I saw him, it was of course on TV. The first thing that came across my mind was yelling: "COMBOVER!" Indeed, as you can see several threads of hair were combed towards his fronthead, giving him that ridiculous appearance. If I were living in this remote village of Gooik, I surely wouldn't vote for this man. If you drop an "o" in his name and add an "e" at the end of it, you have the word "domste", which means "silliest". Quod erat demonstrandum. (Or if you just drop "st", you're left alone with someone called "Doom". A Doom that's not even a judge… What a pity. [Explanation for ignorants (if any): I'm cleverly referring, as an Easter Egg, to the brillant "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" with Christopher Lloyd playing a certain Judge Doom.])

I know this is a shallow reason not to vote for him, but people voted for instance for the "beauty" (read: legs) of Freya Vandenbossche, who was in charge of Treasury. Later, she stated in a newspaper that she was hopeless in maths and that she didn't understand anything to economics… That's a true story. We're governed by a bunch of incapable people – who have to rely on capable advisors. (Most of them work for the ministry of Education of the Communauté française. The so-called programmes they came up with are too silly to be taken seriously.)

By the way, and before I go, this Michel Doomst appeared on TV because he was (and still is) an eager advocate of the so-called splitsing van de kieskring Brussel-Halle-Vilvoorde. If you don't know what this awkward thing is, don't try to find out what it is: it's a symbollical division of a voting district around Brussels that is demanded by Flemish politicians. It appears that this division would cost several Flemish seats in the Parliament, but they don't seem to have noticed that… Anyway, that's an issue that they absolutely want to discuss as soon as the government is set. And for the record, the elections weren't taking place last sunday, but… nearly 90 days ago, on 10 July!!! … "At snail's pace", as they say.

PS. If you look at different pictures of Michel Doomst, you'll see that his combover's size changes from time to time. (And this reminds me of one of my former professors…)

What A Mistake, Mr Leterme!

Christophe Deborsu works as a journalist for the RTBF (Radio-Télévision de Belgique Francophone, i.e. the Belgian, French-speaking broadcasting corporation), whose Flemish equivalent is the VRT (Vlaamse Radio en Televisie). Usually, he does reports for the news, but a few years ago, he was also doing reports in a UFO-like program (Projet X) with topics about silly things that happen in Belgium. Sometimes, we was tickling politicians, finding upsetting things about their project, etc. That is the reason why he was nicknamed by some: "le fouille-merde".

I told you in yeasterday's post that I went to Brussels to attend the celebrations of National Day, and I also stated that hardly anyone can actually say why the date of 21 July was chosen as National Day, nor sing the national anthem, the Brabançonne. Ok, but what does it have to do with Christophe Deborsu? Well, I saw him yesterday: while I was waiting outside the cathedral with my brother, I saw him walking towards the official cars, running after someone. On that moment, I said to myself: "Tiens, Deborsu vient faire son fouille-merde ?". It's authentic.

That very same evening, I discovered that Frédéric Deborsu had managed to make Yves Leterme stumble on something rather symbolic… (Yves Leterme will become Belgium's next Prime Minister. There's no doubt about it.)

Watch this video: Frédéric Deborsu's whole report (originally about the lack of knowledge of politicians about the Belgian History), then the Flemish viewpoint on this case, with help of the interview of Christophe Deborsu.



The burgemeester of Ypers actually didn't know that 21 July stands for the oath-taking of Léopold I in 1831, then he sang the two first lines of the Marseillaise, the French national anthem!!! A republican hymn in front of a cathedral in which a mass was about to be given in honour of a monarchy!! Surrealism in its pure form.

There's what happened: he made a mistake. He didn't know the anthem, as the huge majority of Belgian do.

(Remember: in a previous post, I told you I was the only one in the class who could actually sing the lyrics of the Brabançonne. After some research, I realized that there are so many different versions of the anthem that it's impossible for me to determine which is the good one. I learned at school a version that doesn't seem to be the same as the one as that in Le Soir of 22 July…)

So, Mr Leterme didn't know the lyrics at all — even though I'm sure he knows the lyrics of the Vlaamse Leeuw, the anthem of Flemish nationalists — and song the first patriotic song he had in mind. The problem is that the Walloons thought of it as a provocation… It was merely a mistake, but the Walloons have a prejudice about this man. They (I'm Walloon, but I don't share their — public — opinion) think he's trying to give more powers to the Region of Flanders (and I personnaly think it would be a good idea) up to the point of splitting the country in two (and I personnally think this is not his goal at all: Flanders would lose a lot if it becomes independent).

Later on, in Dutch, Mr Leterme appologized for having offended people, even if it wasn't his intention. He said he'd made a mistake. Then, when asked to re-say it in French, he said it was out of the question. On VTM (private Flemish television), he was (implicitly) more aggressive towards the RTBF, saying that people who would want to discredit him would pay the price of it…

Already threatening the media? Usually, we can see such things in a dictatorship, I thought. Fearsome… Then I thought that the next four years were going to be great fun (I'm just being ironic) with this man as Prime Minister…

And I can say: "I was there when it happened"!!!

"A New Power Is Rising" (Saruman, LOTR II: The Two Towers)

Today,Elio Di Rupo has announced who was going to be Wallonia's "Ministre-président" during the following two years. The "numero uno" of the Parti Socialiste decided to appoint Rudy Demotte, who was minister of Public Health from 2003 to 2007. He seems to be the most reasonable choice to me. Why?

Wallonia's financial/social/political health is bad. Terribly bad. The PS suffered a defeat in the federal elections in June, due (more noticeably) to the city of Charleroi and the so-called "affaires". Corruption of politicians from that city disgusted people. That's why they voted for the MR, a party whose ideas are quite different from that of the PS. These disappointed voters chose to vote for Reynders and his friends (Michel, Laruelle, Jeholet — people I totally despise) because they seemed to be the only alternative — as if they didn't know anything about Didier Reynders very bad work during eight years as head of Finance (a hole of 883 billions €, for instance).

Maybe it is good that the PS is going to be in the opposition. Politics is all about getting power and losing it, not simply trying to hold it anyhow. (Read this blog's title.)

Di Rupo was in charge of too many functions: bourgmestre of Mons, leader of the PS, Ministre-président of Wallonia were his main functions, apart from sitting in numerous councils. He finally decided to quit from the "presidentship" of Wallonia to focus on his task of leader of the PS, in order to "rebuilt" it and cleaning it up from all the "parvenus". He was reelected to do that a week ago. That's the reason why he appointed Rudy Demotte to succeed him.

I was writing that he's a good choice for several reasons.
— First, because the other names — Jean-Claude Marcourt and Michel Daerden — just didn't fit to the function, respectively because Marcourt is not known in Flanders, and because Daerden is known everywhere for his drunk words (even if he does great job in his ministries).
— Second, Rudy Demotte is known in Flanders, for he was Minister of Public Health from 2003 to 2007, as I wrote above.
— Third, he can speak Dutch more than properly, his mother being Flemish… At last we have a ministre-président who can express his thoughts in correct Dutch!
— Fourth, what he did as head of Public Health is fantastic, because he managed to reform the system and to make it less expensive for the Federal State. I don't see why he'd do bad work as head of Wallonia.

I hope you see my point. The PS has to be reformed, and Wallonia too — even if the "liberals" (I should write "neo-liberals", bu they wouldn't be happy) of the MR will have to lead Wallonia as of 2009… To be continued.

Coastal Tramways

The Belgian (Flemish) coast is known for its tramways—which underwent a modernization lately, so that they are longer and can sit more and more "white heads" (i.e. old people). (Everything is new in Flanders; while Wallonia is rather derelict, as if we were still in the 1950s.) This view was taken in front of the Middelkerke Casino.

Carte des gagnants Lotto en 2006

This "carte des gagnants Lotto en 2006" (map of Lotto winners in 2006) strikes me: it represents the places where amounts superior to 5000 € were won. You can only figure out that the Flemish (people living in the North side of Belgium) win a lot more than the Walloons… Is it due to the fact that the Flemish are richer, and thus can afford to spend more money on such games as the Lotto? Or is it because they are 6 millions, and we're only 3 millions…? Anyway, it's an interesting card. Maybe I should play in Flanders…