Tuesday, May 25, 2010

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For rocks where


Each year he had to return to the field and begin this work, we only had a spade or her hands, an uncle was paying a few dollars a day, but at fifteen, we did it just to be able to tell others they had worked, those few days they were had gone to earn a living, it had held in late spring when the ground thawed had become hard enough for the truck to pass without getting stuck or digging furrows gigantic truck is filled him with rocks all day we broke back and then start to look for rocks in the box, it suffered the evening without telling anyone.

Vincent thought each was a field that was the worst place to bury a body, to see how the rock reached the surface, he imagined himself in the process of filling the trailer of skulls, tibiae and pelvis dog, beef, human. He had a good idea of what he would do if he had to dispose of a body. He knew the places, several kilometers into the forest, at the end of tracks of deer, which led to ponds, bogs, lakes dying to cover a death that he would cut my fingers and toes, crushed teeth with one stone.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

What Are Good Shot Drinks?

It takes the right end

The end of the school year already looming.
season ends meet.
A very nice year ... galley without any (!)
Beautiful meetings everywhere, literary prizes including the Prix Chronos in Geneva.
Many requests for next year.
And then I felt very happy, the time of writing that comes with last summer.
My next dates are Sucy en Brie, Verdun, Pelissanne, Ivry, Saint-Maur ...

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

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goes the culture? Evening of academic performance





Credit: Nicoz BALBOA , my new idol


Come see us play . Children will be there!


Ca Catharine Cormier-Larose and Alexie Morin , Me Breast (presentation-performance)

Working towards academic research while being a parent, elements from the books must be accommodated between diaper changes. What happens when the creative space becomes a public space, it is always invaded? With texts by Martine Delvaux, Sébastien Dulude and Rosalie Lessard and projections of different works of contemporary art about motherhood (Catherine Opie, Monique Moumblow, Eyre and Janieta Guy Ben-Ner), we try to redefine motherhood cultural, integrating this performance both the fruits of our research more "academic" and excerpts from our own creations.

Catherine Cormier-Larose has two bachelor's, master's, and many books. She has published in various periodicals, including Moebius, Esse, Inkjet and UFO, and participated in two collective books ( Cats editions Rodrigol and The Black Book editions of Your Mother). She is Director of Productions Arreuh ( www.productionsarreuh.blogspot.com ) interested in the poetic and performative practices in public space. She is the mother of a girl who allows another take on reality.

Alexie Morin completed a Masters in literary studies at UQAM. She has published in various journals, including Biscuit Chinese , Moebius , Ectropion , carrier abyss and History Incredibles. It is the team's voice here ( www.voixdici.ca ) and is part of the collective Vx, which focuses on the construction of voice in writing and its relation to body language and the world. You can follow his blog at www.mecreante.blogspot.com . She is the mother of a boy who turns his artistic and human respect in the world.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

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William Sampson or refusal


Source: CBC


British and Canadian citizen born in 1959, former military doctor of chemistry converted into marketing consultant employed by a state company Saudi William Sampson was arrested by police on leaving his home in Riyadh on December 17, 2000. It will be released in 2003 after 31 months of solitary confinement and countless physical, psychological and sexual abuse.

During his first week in detention, he was beaten, deprived of sleep and food, and eventually raped, before they succeed in eliciting confessions. In a confession broadcast video hallucinating February 5, 2001, I am unable to find on the Net, a bearded Sampson, identified and pitiful explains plan to support, in a broken voice, the way he organized a terrorist attack on other Westerners whose car exploded in downtown march of the Saudi capital. The day before his arrest, he was denounced by a friend, nurse, witness of the accident. Raf Schyvens, a Belgian, had tried to rescue victims before being cased by the National Police dispatched. In summary, it anything.

Still: Sampson is incarcerated and continue to torture him every day for eliciting further admissions. Later he was tried and can be sentenced to be beheaded in public. After his trial, it gets in a car that takes him to a public square deRiyad. Convinced that this is it, Sampson is almost relieved. The death made him more afraid. But it was not yet his time and the van turned around. It was returned to prison.

Then he had enough.

I could write a long time on the details of legal history, the various governments' indifference to the suffering of their own citizens when it involves business relationships with the oil country, the language of wood that is ridiculous to say that diplomats are not entirely certain that the type has not committed a crime, but for me the heart of the matter is the Supreme buggery tick Bill Sampson when he learns that his nightmare continues. From that moment, it may also excuse that it is crazy not help.

The guy decides he no longer obey. Never. He does not care to die. At the point where it is, is the bid that is death. It veutt force him to wear the thowb , traditional costume of Saudi men, it tears the clothes under the surveillance cameras. He removed all his clothes except those he wears. Whatever! When his t-shirt and boxers are too disgusting, it goes commando in his great white cell. She confiscates his soap and shampoo, it starts to expand his shit on the walls, he s'enduit whole body with it, and piss in the corners like a cat. The cell is a cell, but she belongs. His jailers do not dare touch him. He never sets on his bed. No longer sits. He paces the cell off, singing tunes of his childhood in England.

The refusal is the only word possible. Dignity and integrity are synonymous to roll in poop. This is the only way to exist. Submit, is to die to self. Bill Sampson decides he remains alive at any cost. He became rebellious half half memories édimbourgeois kid.

Is he a hero?