2012/08/29

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  Square St-Louis – 2012.08.29 – 11h23
  Scènes de Montréal – Montreal Scenes
  

  Nothingness does have a face

  Excerpts from a column by Le Devoir’s foreign affairs columnist François Brousseau yesterday (August 27). Says what it says. (my translation)

  «A former governor of Massachusetts, who got elected in 2002 defending abortion, will become this week, in Tampa, Florida, the official representative at the presidential election of a Republican Party fallen into the hands of the extreme right, as never in its history.

  This man picked up by osmosis all the positions of those who, during the past year, had put themselves in his way: lower taxes for the wealthy, dismantling of the federal State, strong fight against abortion, repeal of laws about the financial sector … Without forgetting the mother promise of them all: demolish “Obamacare”, that (almost) universal health insurance, obtained after a bitter fight by the President in 2010 … and directly inspired by 2006 Massachusetts one, incidentally baptised “Romneycare.”

  The ideological metamorphosis of Mitt Romney, the former east coast liberal Republican, is a monument to political opportunism. The elusiveness of the man and his apparent inability to express strong convictions, intimate and sincere, paradoxically permitted him to obtain, by wearing them down, the resigned anointing from the party’s base.

  He achieved this feat by eliminating one after the other, the zealots, jesters and other extremists who, in the fall of 2011 to the spring of 2012, participated in the Republican beauty pageant – turned into a mad race to the extremes: Newt Gingrich, former Speaker of the House, for whom Palestinians “do not exist”, Ron Paul, who wanted to abolish the income tax, the Catholic Rick Santorum, denouncing campuses “which spread liberal ideas.”

  But now, if Romney-the-chameleon, the time of a primaries campaign, was able to control this animal gone crazy that has become the Republican Party in the Obama era … he could do it by indulging body and soul in its ideology. Saying “yes”, “yes”, and again “yes” to his outbidders from the right, be it about the economy, foreign policy or morals.

  His consecration, this week in Tampa, has all the appearances of an unconditional surrender.»

  [..]

  But this theory of a “centrist” candidate who, comes Fall, would replace the increasingly extremist Romney of the preceding 12 months does not seem to apply this time. It is not that the man would suddenly have acquired, over the months, stronger beliefs; it would rather be that his rooted opportunism, his “seduction at any price” of the Republican base and the Tea Party, made him the toy of the forces that govern today, not only his party, but all the Right in the United States.

  Forces for whom the middle class in that country – yet more impoverished than ever – is “rich”, and would be even more if only the State withdrew more from public affairs. Forces that contend that the stimulus plan of 2009, with its 700 billion in spending has not limited the damages by avoiding a full fledged depression (which is the probable reality), but rather increased the deficit without any benefit. Forces for whom a minimalist health coverage plan – as the 2010 Obama plan for 2010 – is in fact a ruinous and dangerous interference by the State.

  All these misconceptions or highly questionable ideas are, in the United States, popular, including among common folks. Mitt Romney, by choosing as his running mate a fan of anti-statism – Paul Ryan – surrendered totally to these ideas. He will therefore lead his fall campaign full swing to the Right… and not towards the Center.

  And it’s with such a program, with such friends, believe it or not, that Mitt Romney, on the evening of November 6, will rake 46, 48%, and perhaps even, perhaps even … No, don’t tell me!!!»

  This Romney guy has got to be the rock bottom pit of insignificant nothingnesss. Quite scary, when one knows he could well be elected.

  

  Injustice

  The people of New Orleans, who aren’t the richest of Americans let’s just say, did no merit a replay of Katrina. And when I hear Mitt’s wife say that this election is all about «the future or our children» I’m pretty sure she’s talking about hers and does not give a flying fuck about the future of the children living in New Orleans.

  

  Sauce? When?

  This is the time of year for Friend and me to make our yearly batch of tomato sauce. Normally it would have been a little later but circumstances have changed these plans. I bought the tomatoes on Tuesday at marché Jean-Talon, for a sauce making session to be held this Saturday, Friend being gone on a trip from Wednesday to Friday inclusively. Normally it takes between two and four days for the tomatoes to ripen to the correct level, spread on the floor. This time around, they seem to be more ready than I would want. All I hope is that they tough until Saturday. I closed the blinds in that room and keep a fan over them all the time, so it should do the trick. However we are forecasted hot temperatures again on Thursday and especially Friday, in the thirties, so I’ll have to keep an eye on things.

  

  Da food section

  Last Saturday Friend came for supper and I made again this delicious fresh tarragon/mushrooms/dijon mustard chicken recipe. He puts butter on his bread (which is very North American) so I keep some salted butter for him in the fridge, although I also always forget to bring it to room temperature. I personally never use butter on my bread or toasts, a habit I caught during my first trip to Europe. And the butter I use for cooking is of the unsalted persuasion. He also requested soy sauce, his idea am I quick to say, certainly not mine. Seems to me a creamy dish and soy sauce belong together as much as Mitt Romney belongs to universal health care. He also used to find it a humongous bore (and maybe even a little kinky) when I took a pic of the dish before we ate. I don’t know if it’s because I told him a few times why I was doing it (my blog and to document my own recipe book) but this time around it was not on my mind to take a pic and it was him who asked “And the pic?” Some things change at times and it’s then usually better not to ask too many questions about why they do so.

  

  This Monday, since I had made some “ensalada de nopales” (nopal cactus salad), I went for something quick and simple: chipolata sausages, the nopales salad and farfalle pasta. Plus a dallop of Dijon mustard of course. The other half of that salad I will eat (or will have eaten depending on when I post this) with an “empanada de pollo” which I bought today (Wednesday) at the Chilean butcher shop on Beaubien, both of which I’ve mentioned before. If you don’t remember my mentioning this shop and their empanadas, it is really, I mean really, not important.

  

  Today (that’s still Wednesday for those who would have a really, really short memory span), I had to go downtown for some medical activity so I did, using the metro. But I had elected beforehand to use this opportunity to do a bunch of errands downtown afterwards which is what I also did. I can announce that trying to find a decent pair of cargo shorts in late August in Montreal is something one should forget. Apparently, those zillions of Quebecers who flee south in winter must think about it in June. It’s just that one of my three pairs is starting to tear apart because it’s too old. Like me somewhat. That’s what I told my family doctor last week: I’m like my old car, I’m starting to fall apart. By her reaction, I’m not sure she has a sense of humor . I walked a good stretch on boulevard St-Laurent. Since I had not had breakfast, when I passed in front of La Vieille Europe, a large fine foods shop specializing in European imports, and where they have a large selection of cheeses, I decided to go on a cheese nowhere spree and buy a few to eat once home. I usually eat soft cheeses but I wanted to try some harder ones for a change. I ended up with three (the prices were friendly) which I knew nothing about, and a baguette.

  There was a piece of Murcia al vino, a Spanish goat cheese from the Murcia region (and city) in southeastern Spain. Its crust, very thin, is purple because it’s tinted with red wine . I found out it is sold in the U.S. under the brand name “The Drunken Goat”. I find rather silly to give such a name to a cheese just because it is soaked in wine, but I’m not surprised. The Amercan “market” is a special one, if you know what I mean. I’ve been to Murcia. In fact I even slept there, having arrived late at night. The next day it was a Sunday and when I left for a day trip in the surroundings in the early afternoon, the city was dead. No human being to be seen, anywhere. I was wondering in what kind of nowhere shithole I had landed in. When I came back at around 18h00 or 19h00, there were traffic jams everywhere. The city was bustling with activity and there were people all over the place, activity that would continue until very late in the evening, into the night even. That’s Spain for you. I’d return there anytime. This is purely anecdotical but after Murcia, on the road leading southbound to Almería on the Costa del Sol, you cross the Tabernas desert where many western spaghetti movies were shot.

  Then there was a Bulgarian cheese, a Kashkaval, light yellow in color and made with sheep’s milk.

  Finally, being a blue cheese slut, I had to try that Gran Bavarese. I had a hard time to find information about that one on the net. It’s a German cheese (well made in Germany at least), has an Italian name, and most pics on the net about it come from Slovenian sites. Slovenia is next to Italy but not Germany. Go figure. I think Bavarese is an old Italian family of some sort but I’m not sure. This one I still have to taste since I had plenty enough in my plate with the other two.

  I never drink alcoholic beverages in the day time (aka before 18h00), as a rule of thumb. But today, since I had cheese and bread for lunch, what the heck! (I think it was more ‘what the fuck!’ but let’s stay in classy language. ) I did not mention it above, but later on St-Laurent, in the Portuguese part, there is this pastry shop where they make and sell the best pasteis de natas (natas, for shorts) in Montreal. It means cream pastries. I bought six, because I’ll freeze some for times to come, keeping one for this lunch (along with coffee). I could have had two, but I ate half of those cheeses and all that bread, so one was deemed a more reasonable choice.

  The Spanish Murcia is on the left, the Bulgarian Kashkaval is on the right, the Gran Bavarese is in the fridge, the natas is alone in its plate and the coffee is in the Neapolitan espresso coffee maker (which is not the real Neapolitan coffee maker, the one that you flip upside down, but explaining this again will be for some other day). Which also brings to mind the question of why Anglos say Neapolitan. The place is Napoli in Italian, Naples in both French and English, so where, when and why did that extra “e” get invited??

  

  

  Universal fight

  I thought this would go well with that sidewalk graffiti Biggles stumbled upon in his city, which read «FIGHT BACK!».

  Poster stuck by someone on a BIXI station at the corner of Boyer and Beaubien. It’s a quote by the late Pierre Falardeau, a well known and quite outspoken, that’s the least one can say, film-maker. One of his short-films, Le Temps des Bouffons (The Time of the Buffoons), more than scratched the local ‘elite’. Big brass people, many of the highest political level. The film was on Youtube, then not, then it’s back, here -> http://youtu.be/0STEvvYZtY0. For those who understand French. It’s a crying shame it’s not available in English cause what he describes in that film, everyone knows about and can relate to. Especially in these times of Republican mierda. A translated excerpt: «In Ghana, the poor eat the dogs. Here it’s dogs who eat the poor. And they take that surprised look when one of them is found in the trunk of a car.» (reference to the 1970 October crisis) and another one: «They are tall only because we are kneeling». The poster, it, refers to the current Quebec elections:

  «WE LIVE IN AN AGE WHERE SILENCE IS NOT ONLY A CRIME BUT A SUICIDE»

  

  

  • 22:39
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