Short but French

Big daughter is watching you

I've been thinking about the recent and dramatic increase in our level of public exposure. When you start using Facebook on your Blackberry, you enter a new world of global, never-ending dialogue between strippers (=you, me, and everyone we know) and voyeurs (=you, me, and everyone we know). Have you noticed how vintage the word "privacy" sounds? That's because it's been replaced by "identity": while the end of the 20th century was all about keeping your personal data secret, this new century is all about keeping your personal data accessible to all but usable and amendable only by you.

Yes, you've thought about this a hundred times before. To tell you the truth, I even think it's fine: I don't care that my friends' friends can see where I live, I don't care that everyone knows I was off my head last night, I don't care to be tagged in pictures where I don't look great. Even if my mother had access to details of my lose morals, I wouldn't really mind. I don't mind now because I'm young and carefree and noone really expects me to behave, so it's OK.

But just start thinking about what's going to happen in a couple of years. Limitless blackmail possibilities. For some of us who become important political or industrial figures. Or more commonly even, for those of us who decide to create their own dysfunctional family. Think about your 12-year-old daughter reading your wall posts.

Oh well - She'll just have to get over it. Or if it really is too embarrassing, I'm sure she'll have the last hope of DNA-testing whether you really are her biological parent or not.

Hold on, was that last bit the really scary part of the story?

Gimme my Britney back

This isn't going to be a very original post since it's been today's most commented video but... I had to say something about Britney's pathetic come-back: http://www.viralvideochart.com/youtube/britney_vma_2007_gimme_more?id=FW2_TW7wUfs

I love Britney. Britney is a soul sister to me. We've got the same age. "Baby one more time" made me understand what falling in love was about. "Toxic" opened my eyes on how falling out of love could be painful.

So please Britney, lose 2 stones, don't mix up ketamin with cocain, and come back (again). If you don't do it for you, do it for your short but French soul sister.

Anyone feels like being useless for the rest of the day?

Here's something amazing that might even keep you going until next week: the ultimate map of everything happening in the world wide web! And if you have a few notions about the Tokyo Chikatetsu, it's even tastier.

Welcome to my so-called 2.0 life.

De revoltes en desordres

C'en est trop. Je souhaite que cela cesse maintenant. Il fait evidemment un temps scandaleux (a base de neige fondue) depuis maintenant 3 semaines, comme partout en Europe. Nouveau developpement sur ce theme et sur le front du grand complot politico-mediatique: depuis hier, toutes les chaines, titres de presse, et online widgets se sont donnes le mot: et ce mot, c'est le deni. A en croire ce que disent les journaux et la television, nous evoluons depuis 36 heures dans des conditions "partly sunny". Jugez plutot d'apres cette photo prise a l'instant de la fenetre du bureau.

Comme si cela ne suffisait pas deja pour m'enerver, je constate en plus qu'apres maintenant pres d'un mois passe a m'ereinter dans des salles de sport absurdes, en trompant l'ennui de la course par de la crap TV a gogo, j'ai certainement perdu quelques neurones, mais par contre, cote kilos, c'est le statu quo. En meme temps, meme si j'avais un corps de deesse, je ne saurais pas trop quoi en faire, rapport au point 1.

Ma seule consolation reside dans la certitude d'appartenance a l'air du temps, ou plutot a l'angst du temps, dont j'affectionne particulierement le manierisme des manifestations: les desordres. Desordes d'angoisse alimentaire, desordre d'angoisse saisonniere (j'aime beaucoup l'idee que quelqu'un ait invente un mot, Health Anxiety Disorder, pour dire que c'est moche quand il fait moche: genial). Ne me manque plus qu'a travailler mon penchant naturel pour l'hypochondrie ... oups pardon, Health Anxiety Disorder. J'ai tout le temps envie de faire pipi, ce serait pas un symptome du cancer de la vessie par hasard?

The trouble with the new hair cut

Last week I was in the living room with Bertie and suddenly I felt like cutting my hair and I did it. I  knew it was wrong and stupid and I shouldn't do it but I still did it and please don't get me started on things I feel like doing even though I know they're wrong and stupid things to do, and end up doing all the same. This post is about the new hair cut that resulted from the possessment moment.

I knew there was something awkward with it from the start but couldn't really put my finger on it until this week-end in Berlin, when people repeatedly asked me whether I intended to try and get into Leeds once I'd be done with high school, and tried to give me half-price tickets to the Cindy Sherman exhibition. Mind you, could've been worse: they could've refused to sell me wine or expressed worries that the content of the exhibition was going to be too explicit.

So this is it: the new hair cut makes me look underage. 16 and a half, more precisely. And now if you'll excuse me, I've got to write that paper about how the beauty market is now all about rejuvenation.

Freeganism

En l'honneur de M. G. a.k.a. "le pd des fruits", ce post est en francais.

Durant la periode ou Poppy travaillait comme "non-fiction developer" a la BBC, nous avions elabore un concept d'emission dans le but de promouvoir le freeganism (free+(veg)anism). Il s'agit d'une nouvelle mouvance d'action collective ecologiste dont la vocation est de denoncer le gachis resultant de notre consumerisme effrene (moins bien sans les accents, cette derniere phrase, sans doute la raison pour laquelle je tends a ecrire essentiellement en anglais). En gros, montrer que les "dechets" que nous produisons en quantites plus qu'importantes sont en fait, dans leur grand majorite, tout a fait propres a la consommation. Les freegans ne se nourrissent que de rebut: leur principale source d'approvisionnement reside dans les poubelles de Pret a Manger, Starbucks, Sainsbury's et autres marches locaux. Non, ils ne sont pas vegans pour autant.

Avec Poppy, nous avions un super freegan: Tristan.

Tristan est beau, Tristan passe bien a la tele, Tristan etait parfait pour notre format d'emission dans lequel il accompagnait un celebrity chef pour preparer de somptueux repas de poubelles aux 4 coins de l'Angletterre et amener nos compatriotes a repenser la notion de "dechet". Tout s'est ecroule le soir ou nous avons croise Tristan au pub (NB: for Londoners, that would be the Dove on Broadway Market). Et Tristan n'etait pas comme prevu, en train de lecher des fonds de verre (gratuits), mais avait bel et bien commande une pinte. Une vraie pinte. Pour laquelle il avait donne de l'argent a une entreprise capitalistique. Ce soir-la, un reve est parti en miettes. Adieu, poubelles, egouts, fond du seau et moities de chewing gum deja machouilles. Adieu, Tristan, un haut-le-coeur me saisit en repensant a ce pain aux olives et a ce kilo de brocolis recuperes dans une poubelle de Shepherds Bush.

Tout cela n'aura pas ete en vain. Malgre Tristan, le freeganism continue le combat et surtout, la BBC quoique surprise par l'abandon de notre projet de non-fiction format, a quand meme consacre un gros article au mouvement, que je vous conseille. Bientot, l'integralite du Finn House Guidebook to Environmentalism.

How about one of those?

The banana case!

Let's have a bit of a laugh

As some of you are aware of I've been quite depressed recently. But you'll be glad to hear that this is all over now since I've got three new friends in my life:

1) iwantoneofthose.com

Things you don't need, but you'll want. Or not. But it's fun.

2) chat room acronyms (they're even better when used in professional emails.)

My favourite so far is AWGTHTGTTA. The longer, the better.

3) Working on Six-Triple-Three-Six. The principle is quite interesting: you call them with any question and for just £1, they'll answer. Try it. I'm currently working on substantiating the "Tell me some random trivia please" answers (that people do ask a lot, mainly on friday nights, possibly in the perspective of maintaining a decent pub conversation). Did you know that the vagina was the second strongest muscle in a woman's body?

Urban art

Featuring Bertnam Dixon a.k.a. "Angry Thin Ear".

AND that was before any drugs got involved in the evening.

It's wrong to be mean

But Sophie just suggested we'd start calling Shoreditch House "Whoreditch House" and I though it was quite funny.