Wednesday, July 16, 2014


1996- 15/7/2013

Missed every instant
and every space between instants

Monday, July 15, 2013

My best friend

Kia my old cat and best friend died an hour ago. I remember fearing his demise in 2009 when hen had been gone for ten days. Born in 1996 he lived a long and beautiful life. He was always free, and probably lived part time with another family as he was often gone for several days and always came back. The previous time I saw him was thursday.
He probably got caught inside in a house where people left for the holidays. He came home two hours ago, dried out and skinny, to die. In the seventeen years we were together I remember only good moments with him.

Kia and his harem, clockwise from left Namu, Butsu, God and Amida

Godspeed Kia, you will always be a part of me.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Bohème amongst books

George Whitmann 1913-2011 

"On Wednesday 14th December, 2011, George Whitman died peacefully at home in the apartment above his bookshop, Shakespeare and Company, in Paris. George suffered a stroke two months ago, but showed incredible strength and determination up to the end, continuing to read every day in the company of his daughter, Sylvia, his friends and his cat and dog. He died two days after his 98th birthday. "

I remember the documentary 'Portrait of a bookstore as an old man' about George Whitman and his tradition of hosting young writers who would live in the library for a while on mattresses in exchange for a few hours work  and only if they promised to try to read one book every day, as he claimed he did his entire life.

I remember in the movie some travellers were children or grand-children of people who visited him in the hippy era and had cherished the experience. I remember in one scene, the then already old man showed off to young girls by giving them a course on how to cut your hair using a burning candle. Head on fire amidst books.

I remember visiting the bookshop 6 years ago hoping to see him, I guess I expected to see a little old guy in a wheelchair when I saw him outside walking in front of the shop along the Seine with his dog, Notre-Dame in the background. Quite tall, dressed in black, reading while walking, he looked old but timeless.
I remember how the staff was concerned every time someone approached him on the street and were relieved every time to see it was one of his many friends.

I cannot imagine a better life.

Saturday, December 31, 2011

Paradigms as allegories

People looking for a Grand Unifying Theory of spirituality appear to me to impoverish their life. Do they walk around in the same clothes every day of the year? IMHO consciousness can grow by trying to multiply your paradigms without searching for similarities. Crowley proposed to get into a different religion or philosophy every week to stretch your consciousness. All paradigms are allegorical representations of the total beast, like the blind men describing an elephant; to me it seems a good exercize to accept each one as a valuable part of the whole.
As such, for example, astrology as it was linked to alchemy considers two centers in the human consciousness: the main center being the earth or the body, surrounded by the seven planets: in the middle of these planets evolves the sun, or active gold, symbolizing the knowledge of the soul; on its extremities are the moon, the closest to the body, symbolizing the will or the force of life, animating the body; and on the other Saturnus, symbolizing the intelligence or Nous. Every aspect of the soul is shown between these two extremes of knowledge and will. And the sun in the middle stands for intuitive knowledge of the heart.
It seems pointless to try to combine this allegory with the 8 circuits of consciousness where rational intelligence appears in the 3rd circle; nor with the sefirotic tree of kabalah where the pharaoh or ratio appears on different sefirah depending which of the realms is considered. Yet all paradigms appear valuable to me.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

"C'est pas la pluie qui mouille... c'est l'eau"

Roland Dubillard died a few weeks ago.

A brilliant poet, writer, comedian and actor, he used to consider the world and himself in it with a distant joy and a joyful distance.
« Je n'aime pas beaucoup mes poèmes... » Avant de préciser : « Je suis mal placé pour en parler, ce n'est pas à moi d'en parler. » Et puis, et on le retrouve lorsqu'il prétend il dira la même chose pour ses pièces : « Ils sont un peu bâclés. »
He started acting in movies by Jean-Pierre Mocky, famous for his shocking anarchistic movies from the fifties till recently.

His "Diablogues" from 1975 (with a second series in 1985), a collection of wonderfully bizarre dialogues for the radio with him as the first protagonist and Claude Piéplu the second, a marvelous combination of two very specific voices (the latter, apart from having acted in almost every funny movie in France, gave his voice to Jean Rouxel's Les Shadoks animated shorts - about which I'll write later on). Dubillard's specific slow velvet voice responded perfectly to Piéplu's slapstick trumpety babble.

His theatre plays were compared to Beckett's and Ionesco's. His tragic tired face was in sharp contrast with his hilarious texts (he was sometimes compared to Buster Keaton for his appearance).

It seems difficult to find movies starring Dubillard. All I found was this excellent  short Les Temps Morts by satrap Roland Topor and René Laloux (who made Planète Sauvage), with text by Jacques Sternberg, and a voice over by Dubillard. An acerbic critic on humanity.

And below in his only starring (and very short) role as the remarkably boring Garspard Gazul in the typical French moronic comedy Les vécés étaient fermés de l'intérieur.

Roland Dubillard was 88. He had been bound to a wheelchair since 1987 but ever remained cheerful and humorous. He was buried in the cimetière de Montparnasse in Paris.

Without him around the world appears lesser poetic, lesser magical and generally speaking a lot more gray. Merdre.

Le dramaturge de l'absurde s'en est allé
Hommage à Roland Dubillard
Je dirai que je suis tombé
Filmography on imdb 
Bio- and bibliography 

One very bizarre synchronicity I just discovered: Dubillard at some point was befriended with the mysterious nobleman Philippe de Chérisey, about whom I wrote a pataphysical conspiracy on the Only Maybe blog. Cherisey, a belgian nobleman, was part of the belgian pataphysical movement in the nineties but was also linked to the priory of Sion. I think he was a master hoaxer (just as Dubillard and their other friend Francis Blanche) IMHO. And now it seems there's a book 'Livre à vendre' under the clowneske pen names 'Grégoire et Amédée' collecting little absurdist pieces Cherisey and Dubillard played together for the radio in the fifties.  Strange world.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

The world machine of Franz Gsellmann

In the Correspondancier du collège de 'pataphysique n. 11 there was an article concerning the bizarre 'world machine' of Franz Gsellmann. A simple farmer, he started combining objects and ended up building a gigantic machine with no purpose whatsoever.
After a while people started to offer him junk, which he incorporated; they even offered him tools to work on the machine which he incorporated as well. By then the machine filled an entire room of his house.
At the end of his life, after working on the machine for 22 years, he added a big question mark on top of the machine and told his wife "the machine is ready, you can do whatever you please with it" and died a few days later.

Nowadays his house has become a museum. You can find out more online: "Die Weltmaschines des Franz Gsellmann"
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