Hello from Paris!
I feel blah. It’s my own fault. On Friday I overindulged for the first time in yonks. Our building installed a composting bin in our backyard through a city program, and when they scheduled a visit to see if we were doing it properly—and teach us how to use the giant corkscrew-like aerator that you twist into the vegetable peels and coffee grounds and yank—my Polish across-the-hall neighbor and I organized some drinks to get residents to come and participate.
Only a handful did. But drinks turned into more drinks, which turned into a barbecue which my neighbor had planned for her family and some late-arriving friends. But since there was a lot of food, and not so many compost enthusiasts, a few of us got invited, too.
And that is how I hung out with some neighbors for the first time since we moved in here one year pre-Covid, and got a rotten hangover, along with a look at how some Polish people, or at least expatriates, see a lot of things.
Ukrainian War? They’ll lose and Russia will try to gobble up something else.
Putin? Evil ex-KGB. His whole government is.
Americans? Mysterious gun-toting people who eat terrible things—at least judging by what’s on offer if you happen to be touring the country in an RV like they did right before Covid.
Of course they didn’t put it like that. What they said was, “Remember what we had for dinner on your birthday?” “Oh yes, the food in America was delicious.” “We ate well the whole time. So many fresh salads.” Giggle, giggle, snort, snort.
I gave a short speech about how what you found on the road didn’t reflect American home-cooking, and that you had to know about regional specialties like barbecue or low-country boils, and they nodded politely. “Of course.” “I swear,” I said. “It’s not that bad.”
I had nothing to say, though, about assault rifles in the hands of ordinary people. At that I shook my head and shrugged. “It’s a different culture,” suggested a half-Spanish, half-French neighbor. And we all nodded.
After dinner, we were served “Polish coffee” in tiny paper cups. It was perfectly clear and tasted a lot like vodka.
I’ve missed the humans. Hanging out in a crowd and listening. Seeing what makes them laugh, or go all serious. Being around families who seem to like each other. Remembering how arbitrary “identity” can be, and you can just as easily bond over what it’s like to slog to the fifth floor, or how so many people back home think immigration is a piece of cake and the streets in France, or New York or whatever are paved with gold. We discovered we all had a preference for charred sausages, and disliked the guy creating an apartment in the attic and disrupting everyone’s lives.
Then there was the quick poll on Napoleon, who still provoked strong feelings among these Europeans a mere 208 years after his death.
Poles: Loved him.
Alsatian: Really? You’re the only ones.
Spaniard: An absolute pig.
I wanted to hug them all. Eating, drinking, laughing, teasing. Offering and accepting generosity while the light faded.
But Covid rates have started climbing again. And probably by the fall I won’t dare to sit in proximity with so many germy people again, even outside. Where it will be cold, anyway. Argh.
As a result, I’m going to propose more barbecues, and try to work in as much travel as possible before October. Because, well, Time’s winged chariot is hurrying near.
Expect photos.
In Other News
France went to the polls again on Sunday—this time for the first round of the legislative elections which will determine whether or not President Emmanuel Macron will be pressured to pick a prime minister outside his coalition.
Right now his people are running neck-and-neck with an electoral alliance built and controlled by the hard-left populist demagogue Jean-Luc Mélenchon, whose dislike of the European Union, Russophile nostalgia, not to mention his unpredictable and vindictive personality, are continually dismissed by what little remains of the mainstream left. His friends will rein him in, they say.
Their success is partly Macron’s fault. His tactic seems to have been, “Let’s just stay out of the public eye, and people will vote for the status quo.” I guess not.
The consequences of losing the parliamentary majority and cohabiting with a hostile party would be a presidency with powers so greatly reduced Macron would practically be the equivalent of an American vice-president, though he alone gets to keep the nuclear codes, decide on the use of force, and sign international agreements, which is something.
According to this article from Le Monde in May:
…the country's domestic politics are clearly entrusted to members of the government:
"the prime minister directs the action of the government, ensures the execution of laws and is responsible for national defense;"
"the government determines and conducts the policy of the nation, and has the administration and the armed force at its disposal.”
The president, meanwhile:
appoints the prime minister of his choice (who must, however, have the confidence of the National Assembly, the most powerful house of Parliament);
presides over the council of ministers (but loses his influence over them), signs decrees and ordinances and has the power to appoint civil and military officials of the state;
may dissolve the National Assembly (not more than once a year);
may claim exceptional powers in the event of a "serious and immediate" threat to the institutions, the independence of the nation, the integrity of the territory or the execution of international commitments.
Yeah, could be fun.
Speaking of Trump
Will he get what he deserves?
Speaking of Guns
Gun control law passed the House, and a bipartisan group of Senators is poised to agree to…something.
Speaking of Socializing
An interesting conversation between Alexander Beiner and Katherine Dee about Sex and Social Media, including, “The idea of fluid identity as an adaptation to surveillance” by others and one’s self.
Dee believes backlash against technology points to a deeper issue.
“People do not want to be atomized,” she writes. “They do not want to be neutered. Sex dolls are unsustainable. Nobody wants this dystopia. It will be painted as anti-tech but it is not necessarily ‘about’ tech. THIS IS THE REAL CULTURE WAR.”
That’s it for this time.
Disgruntledly yours,