Egyptians have gone to the streets again to remind the military government to honor its promise and leave power. In response, riot police and military units have descended onto the square, breaking up encampments, making arrests, brutally beating people, and firing tear gas & rubber bullets into the crowd. For now, the count is 1,500 injured and 33 killed. Egyptian doctors are claiming that live ammunition has been found in several bodies.
”So, yes, death. When you’re young, you think about it… when you’re dead you don’t really think about it, you know - you have the intelligence of raspberry jam, you’re not thinking about anything. But it’s there, as a motive force - making you do things. Go and get a job. Go and find a flat. Find somebody else. Put them in the flat. Make them stay… Get a toaster. Go to work. Get on the bus. Look at your boss. Say “fuck”. Sit down. Pick up the thing. Go blank. Scream internally. Go home. Listen to the radio. Look at the other person. Think, “WHY? Why did this happen?”… Go to bed. Lie awake! At night! Get up. Feel groggy. Put the things on - your clothes - whatever they’re called. Go out the door, into work - same thing! Same people, again, it’s real, it is happening, to you. Go home again! Sit, Radio, Dinner - mmm, GARDENING, GARDENING, GARDENING, death! ”
Well it seems Italy’s conservative Prime minister slash media mogul slash billionaire is finally stepping down. After 17 years of Berlusconi’s desastrous policies and the whole country on the brink of an economic crisis, those who will replace him will have to roll their sleeves up and deal with the big pile of steaming crap he leaves behind. Good luck my Italian friends, don’t give up!
“The good writing of any age has always been the product of someone’s neurosis, and we’d have a mighty dull literature if all the writers that came along were a bunch of happy chuckleheads.”—William Styron, Conversations with William Styron
I just translated this strip from Franquin’s “Idées Noires” album (1977) so I could share it with you. I hope the great man will forgive me and not haunt me from beyond the grave for my terrible job at modifying his work with MS Paint.
On my way to the market the other day, as I was crossing the big park in front of our home, I saw an unusual scene. Sitting on a stone park bench was a young man in a bright orange robe and an elderly lady in a grey veil. As I walked closer and passed, this is what i saw: a buddhist monk and a catholic nun sharing a gigantic bowl of Phở noodle soup.