Friday, December 31, 2010

Non Reporting Probation And

Before I was a big pile soft



1.

This is a (real) advertising. People have been "handsomely" paid to create it.
Pre-script: When I dare not sign my nonsense, I will publish next . But since Xavier RueDuCommerce.com veins and I love the perfect, I am no longer ashamed to offer you for reading my stupidity Cambrai (already sucked ... flabbergasted by 385 users or 385 times by the same user dumbfounded ).

Line Break. History

take us for idiots more, our friends have given advertising a name (and sometimes a name) which we are inundated with spam mail. Because it is (we do take bladders for lanterns) prevent us from sending directly to the trash their defecation cyber ... and sexist. Stephanie Successful Holiday, Patricia women currently; Newsvoyages Emily, Jessica Mallet my counselor credit Gaëtan de Motobluz; Hervé Side Apéritif.com, etc.. (You yourself made the connection with the hundreds of emails that flood your trash) because it necessarily Hervé holding the counter side and not Apéritif.com Patricia, Patricia behind the counter, but it's not going to your head, it would induce that Patricia took to drink, my God what a horror, a woman does not drink see, it is not.
Hic!


Flute, damn, shit, after investigation my argument to the nut breaks his hoe. Hervé Side Aperitif dot com exists. Crazy! Here, I must m'asseoie and me to use a little good brandy. Hic bis!



Sunday, December 26, 2010

Dutchman Popup Camper Id Number

She was beautiful, old ...

Here is a text that told me Jean-Luc.
"An interpretation of a rare and valuable relationship which, in spite of you, you have participated "
me he wrote. I publish it again today. A thought for a reader that I have not encountered. If this blog and the previous served only one thing, it would connect to human beings.

Photo published courtesy of JLS.
She was beautiful, old, any broken, bent double with age and its excesses.

She was beautiful, with his cane and Kelly, sitting in the sun.
It was the old hatchet under the sun, she soliloquy with the diction of a Sarah Bernhardt.

She was bumped, but when I passed her, she looked up and smiled.

She touched me, old woman, her smile lit up the living and making me his photo.

It touched me in responding to my greetings with a "you're young and beautiful again," a "you're a nice, you're a sweet 'and shunned his gaze, tirelessly toward its past, his interiority.

I met her one day at the entrance of the building where I worked.

She was in another department, and our furtive meetings before the door of the building, filled me with his youth.

She looked me in the top of his eighty years.

She was no longer very young and yet, in his eyes turned towards me, I guessed at twenty or forty years, a woman so beautiful that my eyes it moving.

One day

sitting in the sun, all broken with his stick and Kelly, she looked at me and said, "you and me, we will know! "

She was hatchet, the old, but that day, she knew. She was there.

Shortly after, I took care of his transfer. When she saw me arrive, she would not leave said: "well, we're going now! I have nothing to do here. "

then I did not know if she thought I was going to get her out of this place or if seeing me, she was willing to change service.

I took her hand. I wore a huge suitcase. Eighty years, it does not travel light. "My name is Jean-Luc", "I said. "I know," she says, "long ago I look at you. I still have very good ears, you know. "

I settled in her new room, bathed in sunlight.

She was bumped, the old, but she was beautiful sitting in the sun.

I waited and then took off. She was beautiful, sitting all broken with his stick and Kelly, looking at the sky and sunny.

I was in his photo, she had entered the mine, the old woman.

A Draft relationship, recognition of one by another and one by one.

she was beautiful, old, any broken with his stick and Kelly.

That evening, for the first time I brought a patient in my head.

beautiful she was, lying down, relieved with his cane and Kelly.

For months, she remained in hospital, still broken, still bumped, but still beautiful, old girl.

The sky had fallen, ironed blue gray, but she was beautiful, old, with the summer in his eyes and his soft hands on my face.

She told me her driver's license in nineteen hundred and forty-seven, Copenhagen and its winter snow, China, America, the USSR, India and Asia.

beautiful she was, my old, less hatchet and increasingly near.

beautiful she was, the day of his eighty-two. Thai restaurant and two days to get ready. Hairdresser, manicurist, beautician.

That evening, my hand in hers, she was beautiful, all broken with his stick and Kelly.

She cried, my old, when I deposited a kiss on the palm of his hand.

And then one day I discovered a blog. The blog of a guy a bit crazy, funny and touching.

He offered us a piece of pie with strawberries Southwest. Because he was leaving on vacation, we left open the refrigerator.

She was beautiful, old, sitting in his living room, sitting in the sun with his cane and Kelly.

She laughed while reading articles and comments. Listening to Nina Simone and Shirley Horn, she became pensive. She was beautiful then, old girl.

She asked me to come and visit regularly with the laptop to receive news about Lawrence.

He too had been elected, recognized, and had entered her world.

His world of memories and curiosity of a new world she did not recognize but which she loved to walk.

She was beautiful, old, with his cane and Kelly, all broken but less ax.

She told me about this blog as if it were a whole person. She said: "Oh_le_beau_jour" was a nice name for a window so funny.

We spent much time in restaurants, concerts, operas, theaters. In bars from time to time.

She called me six to eight times a day.

Then one night she called me because she had a stomach ache. Hospital, intervention, and disaster.

I went twice a day, bringing him flowers, white tulips and daffodils - even that we had in common.

One night she took my hand. A tear glistened in his right eye. She said: "I can not love you I love you love so very strong friendship."

She also asked me to say goodbye to my parents and girls kissing very hard with my sister and my sister and my brother-in "it is so nice, Michael."

The next day, the ICU, intubated, she could not speak, this room that I was fortunate to have in my life.

She died almost peacefully March 12, 2009, leaving me alone, alone with this terrible loneliness of losing a loved one. "A mother from Switzerland," she said at the mine.

She was dead, old, any broken with his stick and Kelly

She lay there in bed, absent. Forever.

It was there my old. Her name was Janine. She was 84 and a half

Bathed in sunlight, motionless and absent forever

With, on his last bed, his cane and Kelly.


Saturday, December 25, 2010

Morton Tender Quick Where To Buy Store

New pocket-sized! Species

.












... who loves for some time to slip into the back of the cards to bring a few coins in the hollow pocket of his early creative. Unfortunately I have not bothered to scan them all before selling them, but here are some samples.
Merry Christmas!

FP

.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Quotes About People Who Changed Your Life

Naël Happy! E-




Punch Brenda From the TV show parody Quebec The Heart has its reasons created by Marc Brunet in 2005. The Complete series: 1. Bold & Botox
2.

Destiny Brenda

3.
fires humor

are available on DVD at your favorite record. And a game of Scrabble ™, it tells you?

Monday, December 20, 2010

Poptropica Free Membership Accounts

Blogs, it's over!


Pictured: one guesses Claire Ulrich, Cathy Nivez, Karolin Mulhaupt, Louis Baudry, Frédéric Dauphin, and the remains of schnouff of hooch, of Diet Coke, a mating with a bag chair lonely, waves bikes, and the reflection of yours truly perplexed.


Really, an amazing adventure that I have to share with a multitude of talents. You know, as I scolded our journalist friends. Well, I had the opportunity to rub me the journalistic thing. And loving it. Passionately. To be the heart of the news, and collegial decision-published "hot" or "controversy". To understand the mixed reactions and varied but always rewarding. Seek a particular author and put it forward. Via E-Blogs, Twitter, Facebook, among others.
I wish to thank Cathy Nivez , Claire Ulrich, Karolin Mulhaupt, Louis Baudry, Frédéric Dauphin Pierre Chappaz , and the whole team
Wikio
who shared our enthusiasm. But especially small hands without which you would not read E-Blogs:
translators
I asked for rain or shine, who have always answered the call, and our modest rewards , like the 500 bloggers translated our translators were our fuel. Balaguer Sophie, Beatrice Savignard , Lorna Miskelly, Ulrike Anderson, Jacqueline Novoa-Rodriguez, Kari Parrott, Audra Falco, Michael Mottola, Jason Pitt, Michael Hardy . And I quote only the team working towards the successful implementation of E-Blogs in its British version . You can read the mood of your tickets European neighbors, they mention politics or knitting, history, gardening, beer or champagne, Internet or philosophy, has been a pleasure each moment. And as this blog, strawberries and tenderness is a very personal space, I will conclude with the human side of it. Some of you know two or three relationships I forged through this adventure. With a devilishly talented blogger who has been very supportive. Raccoon Anna (Anna Raccoon, as my parents still call it), British lady who wields the pen as well as irony, reminded me of the libertarian spirit that lay dormant in me. This widely read and read Anna, had conspired to live a few miles from home. The intriguing!

With my colleagues and friends, editors and translators.
tenderly That I annoy.
Cathy, Claire, Karolin, Louis, Fred, it was great to spawn with you intellectually, rubbing our neurons and our sensibilities. With you, readers whose Curiosity has ceased to amaze me. So continue to search the Internet, demand quality in everything, to shake the certainties of the decision makers who see the Internet as a vile alas gloubiboulga worthy of being muzzled. Freedom is too precious to leave in the hands insensitive. But I digress. It's snowing at home?


Saturday, December 18, 2010

How Long Does It Take To Get Digital Copy From Ea

The constellation of the lynx - Louis Hamelin

The constellation lynx , Louis Hamelin : a novel to read, absolutely. Unless you wanted to miss a great novel. I'm not the only one to say ...
I give you here to read testimonials. They are eloquent enough to convince you, if you're not already. Plus some quotes from the novel, or interviews.

"Sometimes, Sam, I feel that the facts reaches us from far away, like that of dead stars.
And we swim in the very arbitrary when we try to connect the dots for a plausible figure.
Perhaps we seek explanations are never more than approximations, sketches responsible sense
like constellations we draw dogs and pots where there was ice eternal suns extinguished. "
The constellation lynx , Louis Hamelin

In 2001, the death of his former teacher, editor and poet Sandpiper, the writer Samuel Nihilo decides to pursue research of this last on the crisis of October 1970.

** *

"The Constellation of the Lynx is a great literary success, a beautifully constructed book, exciting from one end to another, even richer than its historical material - and Louis Hamelin has risen, by dint of patience, hard work and talent, the status of great writers contemporaries from all countries.
[...]
But in obeying an inner voice imperious as Louis Hamelin submitted holes of history with the requirements of his story, contrasting the official fiction events in October 1970 his personal fiction much more convincing, comprehensive, exciting and real.
By changing the names of the protagonists to give himself room to maneuver, with a breathtaking narrative freedom, in perfect command of his spirited horses prolific writing, Louis Hamelin covers the entire second half of the twentieth century.
[...]
But his masterstroke was to create the character of Sam Nihilo, a writer in search of truth about the background of history. This alter ego has enabled Louis Hamelin ...
[...]
A historian would be limited to the facts, an essayist would put forward its own vision of history. But Louis Hamelin is a novelist and includes the essayist and historian and adding an inordinate love for these characters inspired by real, even the meanest and most detestable.
"We may need the romantic imagination to enter a part of reality," said Sam Nihilo. Yes, that's what makes the novel in the best case. And that is today the best-case scenario: a powerful work.

Thanks, Louis Hamelin, for this great novel that has delighted readers that I am, and that stimulates the author that I persist to become. "
Source: John Beard, whose novel The it is the herald on Canoe.ca

** *
"Such an undertaking was enough to discourage most seasoned novelists. [...]. After a decade of work, Louis Hamelin gives us what is, as a novel investigation. [...]. Survey says that says investigator, a role which belongs, in the constellation Lynx, the writer Samuel Nihilo, alter ego of the author (and an anagram of his name). Connecting one to one of the points which form a troubling picture of accuracy, Nihilo advance in a forest, figuratively in most cases, but also literally - deeply rooted in Québec, this novel is also the one has said little since its release, a love song to the fauna and flora here. It may call into question the very humorous language of Hamelin, which, if it has the merit of color through humor powerfully dramatic material, gives Overall appearance grinning (!!!) which does not suit all the scenes, the result does not force less respect, scoring ability, finally, investing in art history a segment of our limited time a squabble historians and political commentators. "
Tristan Malavoy-Racine, Louis Hamelin, the Lynx constellation on Voir.ca

** *
" [...] But why
calling and Pierre Laporte, Paul Lavoie, changed the name of Robert Bourassa, premier of Quebec at the time, that of Albert Vézina and did the same with many other characters real, especially the militants of the Front de liberation du Quebec? (Request Michel Lapierre)

"My book is not a test. I used to dig the art of fiction historical reality, "explains Hamelin (Michel Lapierre).

"The light of the facts reaches us from far away, like that of dead stars" (says the writer Samuel Nihilo)
The constellation lynx , Louis Hamelin
[...]
Never in literature Quebec relations between humans (these "animal cultures," Hamelin tells me) have so well expressed the revolutionary atmosphere of 1970 World, Percé to California in the cons-culture, Paris sixty-eighter to camps Palestinian fedayeen. But, near Montreal, South Shore, in a house next to that where the Minister Lavoie, FLQ hostage, officials secretly ensure long been the triumph of the established order.
Michel Lapierre, Louis Hamelin and stars October, on The Devoir.com


** *
Louis Hamelin was haunted long by the ghost of Pierre Laporte, the Minister was kidnapped and murdered by the Front de Liberation du Quebec (FLQ) in October 1970. Obsessed with this bloody corpse, for ever silent on the exact circumstances of the drama, the novelist has designed eight years ago, the crazy project to rewrite the history of the October crisis. After a thorough investigation, he believes he understood what really happened that fall into the bungalow of the South Shore where the politician was killed. In an ambitious novel, The constellation of the Lynx, it penetrates to the dark mystery, recreating the last moments of the hostage, until his final breath.
The author of 51 years has always dreamed of writing a "great American novel" which addresses a major political issue. Writer of the past decades in Quebec, won the Governor General's Award for rabies in 1989, he was known for his caustic eye on his contemporaries and for its powerful evocations of the landscapes of the Americas. [...].
[...]
Forty years later, the worst political crisis in the history of the country remains a "national trauma unsolved," said the writer, Kennedy is our business to us. "
first major novel on the subject, the constellation Lynx failed to take the form of a historical essay. The author is convinced that his reconstruction of events is more credible than the official version, as it considers full of holes and improbabilities. The machinations of power and security forces have played in his view, a much larger role in this case that do not recognize the former FLQ members or authorities. And Pierre Laporte in his eyes a forgotten hero. *

LOUIS HAMELIN was 11 years old during the October Crisis. He was living in the Gaspé, and he remembers particularly the view of research published in the newspapers, which offered 150,000 dollars for the capture the FLQ - review of research that now adorns his office. He grew up in Laval, has lived in Vancouver and Montreal before settling in the forests of Abitibi, where he raised chickens were eaten by the lynx. He now lives in Sherbrooke. This fall, he taught at the University of Ottawa and will be father for the first time. October is his favorite month.
Noemi Mercier Hamelin The bomb on the news. Com

** *

"[...]
40 years ago, in October, the violent action of the Front de liberation du Quebec reached its peak.
[...]
The writer still remembers the words of his parents' surprise at the sight of the army and machine guns, then this funeral music heard on the radio one morning in October 1970 when the body of Pierre Laporte was found. He could never forget the faces of the guys from the Chenier cell which lined the walls of the buildings he watched the corner of his eye when he was only ten years ago. To fill the silences and mysteries that still inhabit these moments, he decided to write this major work and certainly essential history of Quebec.
"Nobody will dare talk about these events without referring to the constellation of the lynx," said author and filmmaker Jacques Godbout, who is also a member of the editorial board of the University of Toronto Press, which appears this novel of 600 pages .
Everything is there, and more since, in addition to refer to cases as they occurred in reality, Hamelin said, clearing some rich soils information never or very rarely revealed to the public . The
adventure hamelinesque
He has spent eight years to write and conduct research in rummaging through archives, conducting interviews, or by clearing works ... as a writer, he became an investigator, lifting stones which were hidden under truths still warm he resurrected with the talent of the goldsmith of words.
is also a journey through countries and eras that invites us Hamelin. This fresco skilfully conducted, while being very clear bushy discover Samuel Nihilo, a writer who decided in 2001 to continue research the October crisis had begun his deceased teacher. Machinations, maneuvers dubious characters captivating lead him to understand the particular role played in 1970 by the secret services and terrorism squad ...
"I decided to kiss off," says Hamelin. There are lots of worlds that intersect. I also wanted to talk about the silences. I think the official version of the case as it was presented to us is often reductive. "
[...]
" I wanted to give me time, and it took a story height these desires. I feel like I had found since the crisis is, of course, but all that prepared. This is not true that in 1970 everyone fell back on learning it. I feel like opening the door to new understandings, "says he (Louis Hamelin).
to see her smile of satisfaction, taking into his hands this brick lying mid-way between the thriller and the historical novel, one can conclude that his adventure in the heart of these dark areas is victorious, for it certainly but perhaps also to an entire segment of our history. "
Claudia Larochelle the Lynx constellation, between thriller and historical romance on Ruefrontenac.com

** *
"I wanted to give life to this story reduced to two theses dry, give it an epic . Because it is exciting. "Louis Hamelin is unstoppable and unbeatable when it comes to the October Crisis.
[...]
For holes there, "says the writer, who has filled in delivering its interpretation of the facts. "I propose a novel solution, but I do not pretend to have the truth," he said, arguing that literature was the best way to explain the shadows of the events and their actors.
[...]
The strength of the constellation Lynx is the ambiguity between what is true and what is not, between the novel and key pure fiction saga.
[...]
From Abitibi in Montreal, Gaspé Mexico, Louis Hamelin wrote a polyphonic novel that has no dead time. FLQ, snitches, military, police, mafia, power brokers, the voices and perspectives multiply and respond to one era to another, sometimes writing in a lyrical, sometimes ironic, still alive and gasping.
"Although there are many voices, I also believe that there is a tone, a glee in writing," suggests Louis Hamelin, who has sometimes been overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task and admitted that his health Mental nearly died. "Let's say you eventually develop a relationship obsessive ... I did and made new plans, rewritten sections, while some scenes were there from the start. Then everything had to match, and it has been an important part of my job. "Only in the last year as the" glue "has really taken, and the hardest was yet to do: enter in the house with the kidnappers and their hostage, to face what happened there. "I saved the biggest for last."

Despite the dizziness, the writer who is now 50 years has not abandoned: his goal has always been to write "a great novel that stirs "For the society in which he lives, and he knew he wanted the gravy train. "My model is Don DeLillo, Norman Mailer, who was a leading commentator on American society. It's always been my ideal, but for that, it takes time. It does not just happen. "He was happy with the result surely the book he is most proud. Its projects: probably another story collection, and again, a novel. Another decade of work in perspective? "I do not think I could do that again, but when we embarked, we do not know how far it will lead us."
Josée Lapointe, The October Crisis by Louis Hamelin , La Presse, read on Cyberpresse . ca

** *
Comments on Radio-Canda
"It's so thorough, so desired. A fascinating novel, beautifully written, that I recommend. "
Claude Bernatchez, Radio-Canada Quebec / First Hour

"Louis Hamelin has a talent for writing. In literary terms, is a major feather in Quebec. There are chapters very powerful in that novel. There is absolutely shocking scenes. It is masterfully rendered. The dialogue is strong. A novel very intense, ambitious, but it's a mesmerizing read. "
Andree Poulin, Radio-Canada/Divines temptations

" It's a very good novel. A book based on considerable research. What really impressed me: it writing style. It reached an impressive level. There are a lot of humor despite the dark subject. "
Tommy Allen Radio-Canada/Des morning gold

" This is a phenomenon of the literary point of view, a phenomenon also because of the theses that the author defends. A fiction very close to reality. A very interesting book. "
Frederick Laflamme, Radio-Canada/Chez morning we

" A new stage in our understanding and our understanding of what was in October 1970. "
Catherine Perrin, Radio-Canada / Six in the City

"It's a shock. The October Crisis and revised by Louis Hamelin, an event not to be missed. For me, it's really a masterpiece. "
Lorraine Pintal, Radio-Canada 95.1 FM / You'll read as

" It takes a lot of fun to read and to lost in this story there. "
Nathalie Petrowski, Radio-Canada / Six in the City

** *
read reviews on the Internet

In comments from readers "ordinary", the word that comes up most often if not always, is one of the most beautiful words: Thank you!

"Thank you.
"Only the artifice of a controlled narrative manage to partially transmit the truth of testimony," J. Semprun.
Samuel Tremblay, Le Devoir (article by Michel Lapierre)

Sometimes the commentary is limited to that single word.
You allow me to add mine. Thank you to you, Louis Hamelin!

Photo: Olivier Hanigan
Photo: Alain Roberge

By the next day, I give you to read excerpts.

you soon.
Happy reading!

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Is It Legal To Sell Food In School

On the station platform, waiting for the train the rest of my life. It




pieces collected at the foot of a mosaic wall separating the luxurious waterfront homes in the nearby township On the station platform, waiting for the train the rest of my life.

It takes time to repair, heal and rebuild. Much more than we would wish that we were granted it, too. I was born more than I ever imagined. When you are lucky like me to have parents who love, help, listen and never judge. At the very least, do not judge their offspring. The nest is still there, cozy room with the teenager I was, repairing the fireplace and great food, all things planted, cultivated, watered, harvested, cooked with heart and seasons. Little is said in family. The filial love do not bother with words, he manifested every day in deed, a gift of oneself. No, I does not idealize my parents, my family. I love them with their unspoken, their blunders. I scanned in the eye shadow on my part.
That's it. Off, lost on sharing the waters of the Atlantic Ocean and Indian Ocean, I saw the sharks, the world's beauty, and I cried all the tears in my body. Strangers have opened their doors, their heart.
returned home, I grew up, repaired toys that was given to me to make reparation. I again took part in social play and professional, paid my debts, I discovered a wealth of unexpected energy. Joy. benefactors have dressed my wounds suddenly clothing, travel, books, meals, gifts, jazz, nights on the scooter key opening on a field of possibilities. One day I will write to these men and women who went to the window of their bank and a candid smile hung on his face, handed me a wad of cash. Given .
With only consideration for a thank you. Then
missing elsewhere, these people. I am immensely grateful to these beings, angels that have crossed my life and my father, my mother, my sister, my friend that I abandoned. On the station platform, I await the process of following my life.


Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Sperm Count 2.3 Million

Cazelais with Norman Winter / On the road with VLB / A letter-poem by John Christmas Pontbriand

the menu-it's the holiday season! -: an album over the winter, which is beautiful; details on the insipid and misleading summary Bernard Pivot, who had read On the Road by Jack Kerouac, without his glasses, and a letter-poem "Jack Kerouac blues , Jean-Noël Pontbriand, from his book of poetry that includes another letter-poem " It was a voice ", in which he trying to "find the word kills the mother," Here is a short extract, which will affect you:
"I'm not myself
and more shade than my flesh
to me by the distance a letter that you have not written but
moving into my voice
and I remember "
Jean-Noël Pontbriand
"It was a voice"


Winter in beautiful Norman with Cazelais
Since the double window of my office, I saw snow, j saw it raining and I saw snow again, to my great delight, And now shines Montreal under snow. We see children drag on small and large coastline, rolling snowball ... They can be heard laughing in the cold air. They talk like the pair of blue jays in my lilac. They are happy, let it snow!

"Montreal in winter is the snow dance fleet and twirls,
clings to trees
woos the halo of streetlights, turns into balls and snowmen.
is white powder, the real, made of crystals apparently all the same and
yet so dissimilar that it makes your head spin.
Snow is white on the gray city of days of boredom "
Normand Cazelais
Living Winter in Quebec. An area marked by the Winter

an epigraph from his album, filled with beautiful photographs and writing to the amendment, Normand Cazelais cites Louis-Edmond Hamelin geographer as he and pioneer nordicity and ... Shakespeare. An album to afford and to offer!

"The winter season is as a space, and an emotion."
Louis-Edmond Hamelin
quoted in "Living the winter in Quebec. An area marked by the Winter

" jellies, sky rigorous
Your bite is less cruel
What a blessing this forgotten."
Shakespeare

In Quebec, the Winter is synonymous with romantic and nostalgic about beautiful-and-Emile Nelligan

"Ah! as snow snowed!
My window is a garden of ice.
Ah! as snow snowed! "
Émile Nelligan
Winter evening

Details of On the Road by Jack Kerouac with VLB (Victor-Lévy Beaulieu)
In my previous blog, I quoting Bernard Pivot that summarizes "On the Road by Jack Kerouac, in his" ideal library, "in these terms:" Pound the Beat generation flagship embodied by Dean Moriarty, a brother James Dean. Stolen cars, bad boys who made a pact of friendship, and Route 220 at the time. "I added, you'll notice a" Heaven! "Felt good ... but not enough.

Dean Moriarty is the double of James Dean. As Sal Paradise is the double of Jack Kerouac. Each character has a nickname, was more cautious ... Obviously, in the latest edition-the original edition, the ban is lifted ... each bears his name.
"There's also the fact that from On the road, Jack gives the role of historian and not the hero [...]»
Victor-Lévy Beaulieu
Jack Kerouac

The hero, if I may say so, of On the Road is James Dean, aka Dean Moriarty, and not Jack Kerouac.

"Most of out of Jack's childhood in Lowell On the road, his approach, which makes me think that the Wolfe of Over time is that of the American who wants to possess his country physically - hence the importance in this book, old cars launched at full speed on U.S. roads, in a hysteria which says much the deep need we had, after this cursed war of a new space was possible to live - (Alcohol, sex, drugs, jazz and poetry will come after that - Thousands of miles behind falling-old skin asphalt America) - "

Victor-Lévy Beaulieu
Jack Kerouac

can not would rather ... Again, I recommend this book: a key to understanding the trajectory of Jack Kerouac and his work.


A letter-poem by Jean-Noël Pontbriand addressed to Jack Kerouac: Jack Kerouac Blues
Never before have you read a poem so beautiful, nor felt better, so just, so well integrated into Quebec, a poem revealing the essence of On the Road, an inseparable written by Jack Kerouac. A letter-poem of 43 pages, carried by the blues of writing: a pure joy!
The poet is for Jack, amateur and connoisseur of jazz and blues, he speaks in whispers to Cole Porter, Billie Holiday, Luis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, he whispers the name of Writers read, Blaise, Rimbaud, Claudel Nelligan passes like a shadow. Grandma's Song, and Jack called his mother is part of a lasting memory.

What Is The Thing Called Love Cole Porter
sung by Billie Holiday
an epigraph by Jack Kerouac Blues
Jean-Noël Pontbriand

I invite you to visit my blog Livranaute to read excerpts of the letter-poem, Jack Kerouac Blues by clicking the link the word Livranaute or by clicking in the left column of this blog it.

I hope you enjoy reading, and thank you warmly, read me!

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Buggy Sand Rail Designs

Smurfs?






Smurfs 3X01 "Blue Moon" 2 / 2 (The Baby Smurf)
I confess, I sometimes play cat and mouse. Let me explain. Two weeks ago I receive SMS intriguing. To which I replied, not without scratching my thinking-cap.

Excerpts: Strangers (e) - Hey, you have mine =)

Me - Who is it?

Strangers (e) - In your opinion, whom did you give your number, not long ago?


Me
- To someone whose number could correspond to yours:)

Strangers (e)
- Mdr ... Well you know who is at least?

Me - Yes.
Strangers (e) - Oh it's going then. So I will soon see the real thing? =) I
- My apple?
Strangers (e) - eh what? I have not quite understood that.
Me - Me neither.
Radio Silence for a week. Then he / she is launching a "ok" just jaded. An "ok" to which I do not answer. I play the nice indifferent. Silence of several days. He / she returns to the attack:
Strangers (e) - Schtroumfette ♥
Me - It Smurfs?
Strangers (e) - Me no understand your message, there ^ ^
There I decided to have the heart net. I dial the number.
Me - Hi, this is Lawrence. The unknown
- It's not Jessica?
Me - (my voice more masculine)
, No, Lawrence. It is 22 hours. The unknown
(u) hangs up and goes maybe make a new bar-hopping in search of a new Jessica.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

How To Make Guinea Pig Couddle Cup

On the Road - Jack Kerouac / Jack London / Biography - Yves Buin / Essay - Victor-Lévy Beaulieu (VLB)

Read and reread On the Road Jack Kerouac of , and offer it. Why? Because ... book is a legendary, mythical, because it is one of the 49 American novels of the "ideal library" by Bernard Pivot (Albin Michel, 1988) who wrote: "Pound the Beat generation flagship embodied by Dean Moriarty , a brother of James Dean. Stolen cars, bad boys who did a pact of friendship, and Route 220 at the time. "Heavens! I stop here because I am concerned that Santa's reindeer-intelligent creatures, if he is rushing into the beautiful legs that to me!

Read and reread On the Road Jack Kerouac of , and offer it. Why? Because it is an excellent novel, a unique reminder of a true writer, who has an incomparable work to his credit. I know what I mean: in 2009, I devoted many articles to S ur road and J ack Kerouac on my blog Siamese Livranaute .

The story begins with Jack London.
In 1907, Jack London publishes The Road . It is the story of the adventures and wanderings of Jack-the-sailor-double of the author, inspired account of true facts. Indeed, in May 1893, an "industrial army" or a group of thousands of unemployed and has left behind face a severe economic crisis, march on Washington. Commissioned by the "General" Kelly, this "army" wants to force the government to build roads across the country. Penniless, unemployed rise, illegally, in wagons goods; they are called the "hard burners. Among them, Jack London, who had the idea of holding a logbook, a novel is published under the title of the book hiked (Tallandier Editions, 2007).

However, he left the group shortly afterward to wander unemployed, and live a life of "hobo" until his arrest in Niagara Falls in June 1884, and its hard living in a jail in Buffalo. Based on his diary, experiences and wanderings, Jack London, the "burner drive," wrote The Road thirteen years later (1907)-and the French translation began a hundred years for us so, decidedly "It's a Long Way to Tipperary ...».

Jack London had thus come into literature and opt for socialism. The wind of freedom, love of hitting the road, the sensitivity to poverty and social injustice which is marked On the Road mark the spirits and inspire youth claimant, and ... Jack Kerouac.

Jack Kerouac
Fifty years after The Road, then in 1957, Jack Kerouac published On the Road, written between 1948-1956. The title itself is a tribute to his predecessor, the Pioneer Route. " It will adopt the same name, Jack. His real name is Jean-Louis for his mother, toward whom he will always come back, he is and will remain "Ti-Jean". His name is Kerouac, with acute accent ...

Jack London had written a notebook that has served for The Road, it is with this first novel he began his literary career, he Writer discovered. A prolific career! Jack Kerouac, meanwhile, had already published a novel in 1950, The Town and the City Road-Before-acclaimed. His career was then initiated, and he always knew, so to speak, he would be a writer.

The "army" of unemployed and have-consider the "General" Kelly, who joined London, claimed the roads ... and work.
Kerouac himself, wandered on American roads including the mythical 66 from Chicago to Los Angeles is moving to hitchhike, but also boarding freight cars as London.

Times have changed, but the youth still in love with freedom, and the desire to take off. Registered in the U.S. even die, the two are Jack vagrants, marginal "tramp" and "bums." Both tell of their wanderings, their friendships and encounters, their emotions and thoughts.

London staged Jack-the-Sailor, the duplicate, and Kerouac, Dean Moriary, none other than Neal Cassidy, and Sal Paradise, his double. The content of one is rather "soft", and that of the other is rather "hard"-especially, needless to say, the original, unfiltered. London written in slang, in a spoken style, spontaneous, familiar, while Kerouac recounts romance in a tempo jazz, defeating the measure in personal style. This beat will resonate in the ear and the heart of the postwar generation.

The Road will affect millions of readers. This is a major work of American literature, unequaled originality. It will mark a generation called the "Beat Generation". It will inspire all young people who take the road, the book under his arm, but too late ... Gone are the days!

In brief. At 50 years apart, Jack London and Jack Kerouac: both took to the road and toured the United States of America, depending on meetings and means of travel. Without the two-penny-hungry discovery. Both, storytellers and characters from their own adventures, not to say they "lived." At the time of Jack London, it claimed the roads to that of Jack Kerouac, they drove on the roads.

Today. U.S. 66, U.S. Route 66, Main Street of America, Main Street USA, The Mother Road, the first paved transcontinental highway in America, no longer exists or very little, having been decommissioned in 1985. it goes without saying that the famous U.S. Route 66 canned and stored, its mythical character. Moreover, groups multiply initiatives to preserve what remains of the Historic Route 66.

Read and reread On the Road by Jack Kerouac, and the offer. But to what edition? The latest shows the original version, entitled "On the road: the original roll, Gallimard, 2010. But what
roll?? He is a legend ...
"Legend has it that Kerouac is to be doped Benzedrine to write on the road, he has composed in three weeks on a long roll of teletype paper, without punctuation. He took to the keyboard, with the bop on the radio, and he spat his text, full of anecdotes taken from life, word for word. The subject: the road with Dean, his buddy of insane, jazz, alcohol, girls, drugs, freedom ... [...]», read on France Culture.

For my part, I recommend three books:
[] On the Road, Jack Kerouac. Full text with notes and a dossier, published by Folio addition, No. 31, 540 pages. You like the "hard"? There a. .. That the protagonists are nicknames, no changes little, they are much
identified by the publisher. It's a secret Punchinello!

[] Kerouac by Yves Buin, in Folio biographies. No pages 17.354. A biography recognized, very interesting and eye écrite.Clin Daniel Caux. " For me count only those who are mad about something, mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, those who want while at the same time, those who never yawn, that does not tell of banalities, but burn, burn, burn like a firework. , "said the Jazz Poet. According to Yves Buin, his biographer, Jack Kerouac has formalized the breath jazzy, saxophone and inspired phrasing of paroxysmal "wild type" in some principles of spontaneous prose. Writer psychiatrist, poet and jazz lover, Yves Buin worked at Hot Jazz in the late 60's [...]», read on France Culture.


[] Jack Kerouac, Complete Works, Volume 10, Victor-Lévy Beaulieu (VLB), an essay of 194 pages. It is a beautiful book printed on quality paper cream, generously illustrated. This book is a must to know Jack Kerouac and his work: inseparable. During the tournament to capture the root cause and scope of On the road, and the place it occupies in his work. Essential to understand the world of Jack Kerouac, whose books can not, in my opinion, be read in part. "Jack Kerouac by Victor-Lévy Beaulieu ... but Victor-Lévy Beaulieu by Jack Kerouac ... This attempt to reconstruct a life of a work, a fate can be considered a novel way to what will have been perhaps the word tomorrow. "Claude Mauriac, Le Monde, 1973.
Provide Folio ... you hesitate. Then choose the original version, accompanied by the test VLB. A blessed gift that the person will not soon forget, if not ever - because it Never say never ...

Cover designed by Jack Kerouac
Go, I embrace you. See you soon!

Friday, December 10, 2010

What Can I Use Instead Of Tray

I put my blog in a Virginia


Illustration:
practicalowl : Virginia I knew in Paris. [From what little I guess, a stunning woman.] I just invited her Wikio . To drink coffee, then two, then three, then four. Caused not only blogs. As I gave to colonize a corner office in a white

open space where thirty click geeks and geek, etc.. [All trades related to the painting], I yamma (Yammer, gizmo communication wikionautes) something like: say hello to Virginia

Germany and
Experts.com, Elodie, Simon Lola Vincent, Marianne, and Alice in E- Buzzing , Agnes (the "human" behind the Twitter account Wikio_FR ) or Celine Overblog of which have entered the blast and expressed their warm surprise.
Those are real people

behind their screens. Sentient people who share nuts, Ricola ™ and banana gratin.

After putting a bow in my blog, here I throw my immodest contribution to man as I see / want / like the second episode. Me neither I do not ostentatious. tiny anecdote about this: here 2 weeks, I boogie in a bar and X Moulleau me: "cool your Tissot watch (or equivalent brand and overly expensive)!" I nodded. I laughed inwardly, and am careful not to point out that he was a watch Lidl to 10 €. Update from 26/12/2010: To read Virginia, just drink your mouse as follows: "The body, a face, they are there ... "

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

How To Soften A Duvet

mood

.






I want that tonight be a night of spring. A silky smooth wing that glides on clear neck, a slight gilding that perfumes the latest woolens.

I want that tonight be a night Spring, an evening that takes its time, an evening that blurs the lines between the end of the afternoon and night, tonight I want that bronzed come caress me from the balcony, let him come lick the floor of my apartment tidy.
want that tonight I feel clean linen and tea, the poets, you know this tea sweet. I want it happening to me gently by hand in her hair to reward myself with a day well done.
I want that tonight tonight a spring evening, he taunted me commissures in a serene smile, I'm there, tea, my own apartment, my day well done and I, with envy read the feet soaked in the soft night.
I'd like to be someone else, someone better, in other seasons, seasons best.



.

Beach Volleyball Toes

hello calf, cow, pig, clutch ... the castle

One day in late summer, I arrive at the castle, which occupied me for seven months, ready to issue room keys, deluxe, standard, junior suite, playing receptionist, the porter. A surprise awaited me. My colleague frail and elegant rolling r pretty Hungarian said:

- Since you're rrreposé well, better than we (it means the other receptionist), so you'll prrrendrrre parrrt to tourrrnage.


- A shooting? What shooting?
Explanations. Preparations.

It amuses me to participate in a program which I despise both the principle that success. Happiness is in the pre

in its northern version, filmed an episode between the walls of a castle Perigord. This is actually the "final" to be broadcast at Christmas. And will the lovebirds tie the knot.

Or not.

him, almost 2 meters, blond, skinny as a rail, he raises pigs. She, as fair as mischievous, promised she would like her, maybe the pig farmer, looks after her horses to her. The scenario is slightly called: they advance at the reception. The camera will film turns the man's wife, an employee.

Engine!

- Hello blah ... Do you want a single room or double room?

- ...
(languid gaze of the man on his sweet) - ... (beats the sweet eyelash)
- Etc.
And I lead. Her, the camera and the people attached to the camera. To the chamber or chambers of lovers.
Did they choose to be wise? Or ...

At Castle, we do have many rooms available to the team. The cameraman, sound engineer, the director, the "farmers" who visit the France for the first time. It was technically possible to stay separately pig farmer and the rider. In two single rooms. But the laws of love and television are rarely reasonable. If I were dishonest (sic), I would translate this nice note in Swedish, Scandinavian publish on a blog, ask for a tidy sum in exchange for my silence. The suspense of a broadcast watched by millions of viewers depends titillated. What?
I probably said too much. (On) a dishonest user (e) (huhu) will quickly google-ize pigs, broadcast, blond, farmers, Sweden, to sing for me the production company X and pocket the deposit or legal trouble .... Me? I did not write anything, say anything, seen anything, heard anything.
Pigs?
where?

Update 25/12/2010: No more suspense. The show is called "Bonde Soker
fru" and you can practice your Swedish
by clicking here. And two small screenshots from Amanda, Johan and myself encravaté.







Click images to enlarge and see the tapestry with flowers!

Friday, December 3, 2010

Maxine Cartoon Driving

Come take a walk in the rain-ie


Touch the small green button on the player with your mouse to listen to the song "Come take a ride in the rain-ie" Virginia asked us this morning by

the press to put a man in our blogs. Or to be more precise, to tell him how we liked men ( link). It's a secret that the women I like them as friend, neighbor, confidant, colleague, sister, mother, cousin, blogger cop, or an entrepreneur but not as a lover or promised. The few women I seduced and invite others to share my bed and maybe more have a poor memory of my heterosexuality enforced. To be like this, as it should, good figure, anything. But I digress, Edgar.

As I wrote here and there on "sites of conviviality," Man, I generally like with hair, self-deprecating, a talent in the kitchen, garden and / or in bed. He must know

say "I do not know" and "I misspoke" without making cheese, making fun of a plum harvest or fart on the body as he spent a delightful evening with friends, face-to-head or in the movies, standing in society, make a rule 3, a balance between a dream and build castles in Spain her ironing his shoelaces, picking flowers to offer a day like any other, listening, crying without whining, without neighing laugh, wonder, doubt, or have to be ashamed of its origins or its qualities, and I mean to stop this absurd list

take me in his arms

.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Air Force Condor In The Uk

At least six pairs of arms

.




"For days when it will not
exist nearby, a house
Street Serpolet
Where there 's no TV and no hot water ...."


At the request of a certain Phil for a roommate who brings happiness in life, music in the noggin and chilli in chocolate! (Painted in August 2010)


.

Slenderize Fuze Works?

I Used To Be colorblind

.


I took his head in his hands. I switched his weight from one to another, drip, my doubts, I juggled. I took my head between his teeth, and she hung on his shoulders, as always. I pushed my finger inside the ear, below. I released a phil. I pulled in further, he would not stop. I took him and tied around my covenant on the skin, tattooed. Phil and I pined one hand, and the other eye, gills, odor, and I have woven a network translucent, philigrane unstable. I stretched my toes as far as to be philambule. Any tangled that I was uncomfortable.
I rolled up and put it back in the hollow of the neck, I took my head and I laid on a quilt, she dug a hole. Under the quilt I wanted to read everything that was Phyleus metaphor, and everywhere, everywhere, the knotted mess of a vain philosophy. My never-ending chaos.
phil I took the sewing, the above penalties, a talisman to enphiler. I I searched the camp, the corner who has no odor, from one end to another of Phil, even nodes and the nodes, I got scared.
I've taken the head, hands, in a dizzying enphilade, I plunged. I caught my breath, the farther then a blow, in one sitting, without cuffs or refuge, I said.

"I'm philanthropist!"

and my stomach has ceased to be in my heart, my heart in my toes, my toes in the eyes and my eyes a long sigh, in the tenderness of his body loose, I could sleep.




-beware formats love pockets.