Pour sa fête, Bout d'Chou a reçu un livre de l'Agent Jean, dans lequel WXT écoute la chanson Physical d'Olivia Newton-John. J'ai donc ouvert Youtube pour lui faire écouter. C'est comme ça que j'ai découvert un clip franchement malaisant. Presque autant que le clip de Hello de Lionel Richie. Mais juste presque. Parce que ya clairement rien qui clanche Hello.

 Dear American friends: good job. You made the right call - and for the first time in history, that is a matter that is completely devoid of subjectivity.

It's far from over, but you will be getting there.

This broken arrow needs heeding 

When great white fathers 

Your mistress is inequality 

Rash and reckless 

Won't get us 

To where we want to be 

Are we emancipators or oppressors 

Of lady liberty? 

Have we lost her? 

Have we lost her? 

Have we lost her?

 

This broken arrow needs heeding 

When great white fathers 

Our poisoned rivers feed your greed 

Rash and reckless 

Won't get us 

To where we want to be 

Ancient songlines are singing to wake 

Lady liberty 

She may seem weak 

We may be battle weary 

Still those songlines sing 

From our Great Lakes 

To our sacred Badlands 

Over sweet prairies 

No I'm not letting go 

I won't be silenced or frozen out 

By those who must account 

In our Senate 

And in the House 

We the people 

Dear judges 

Will be watching 

Over you 

Over you 

Have we lost her? 

Have we lost her?

 

This broken arrow needs heeding

Today is October 15, and I still don't have the words. You are far, you are gone, but still you are here, and you are close.

Yesterday was October 14, but oddly enough, that is when the words came. For the first time. I didn't think it was ever happening. I thought I was empty forever. I thought I was silent forever.

But maybe it's a long, long climb, is all.

"Climb over the church wall" he said 

"You can feed the koi in the pond 

Climb over the church wall in your Sunday dress 

Be sure to feed the koi in the pond" 

It's a long long climb going back in time 

 All of me wants to be... believe 

That the angels will find me 

Saint Veronica 

All of me wants to be... believe 

That somehow you will save me 

Saint Veronica 

 He said "Kneel before your judges in reverence 

Your penance for the woman you'll become 

You knew if you talked there'd be a consequence 

Your sentence for the woman you'll become" 

Ten days of hell in Satan's cell 

 All of me wants to be... believe 

That the angels will find me 

Saint Veronica 

All of me wants to be... believe 

That somehow you will save me 

Saint Veronica 

Dream of dimensions 

Then cross through the veil to them 

Wrap yourself in linen holding Jesus close 

Calling Saint 

Calling Saint Saint Veronica 

 "Climb out of the belly of the beast" she said 

"Become a witness out of the abyss 

The temple of the soul will have to heal the flesh 

Only when you're whole can you forgive 

But it's a long long climb 

It's a long long climb"

Standing on the edge of the cliff
Didn't think it would come to this
A dead calm before the storm
Not a sound from their engines
From the other side, saw a shooting star at 4:22am

A warning shot from the rhythm demons
Or from the guitar preachers
I've been touched by both
And by the Holy Ghost
From the other side, saw a shooting star at 4:22am

Underneath the stars above
I said, "No, stop I am not giving up on us"
And I am not going anywhere soon
Annie, grab your bass guitar
Help me bring in the October moon
Then you shout, "Run for cover"
I scream, "Rev the Triumph's engine"
You say "Baby we're too late
From the cloud riders, no escape"
Darlin', what's the blanket for?
Riding out this storm
We'll be riding out this storm

Carved a stave against the grain
At the nine doors to gain
The secrets of trees
Once I could hear them singing
From the other side

Back then, the thunder gods
They used to cast our lots
But then I lost touch
Close to when her chariot
From the other side

A chariot pulled by cats
Purring, "We'll be returning"
From the other side
"Girl, it's time you take back your life"

Underneath the stars above
I said, "No, stop I am not giving up on us"
And I am not going anywhere soon
Annie, grab your bass guitar
Help me bring in the October moon
Then you shout, "Run for cover"
I scream, "Rev the Triumph's engine"
You say "Baby we're too late
From the cloud riders, no escape"
Darlin', what's the blanket for?
Riding out this storm
We'll be riding out this storm

This storm
This storm
This storm

So this morning Raiontzukai sent me a link to CNN's live feed regarding the impeachment hearings. You know, serious stuff. But then I read that Sondland will testify that there was a quid pro quo. It's still very serious stuff, but now I'm stuck with The Lion King in a loop in my head:

Of course, quid pro quo, you're expected
To take certain duties on board
The future is littered with prizes
And though I'm the main addressee
The point that I must emphasize is
You won't get a sniff without me!

My scream got lost in a paper cup
Do you think there's a heaven
Where the screams have gone
I got 25 bucks and a cracker
Do you think it's enough
To get us there

'Cause what if I'm a mermaid
In these jeans of his
With her name still on it
Hey but I don't care
'Cause sometimes
I said sometimes
I hear my voice
And it's been here
Silent all these...

Years go by
Will I still be waiting
For somebody else to understand
Years go by
If I'm stripped of my beauty
And the orange clouds
Raining in my head

Years go by
Will I choke on my tears
'Til finally there is nothing left
One more casualty
You know we're too easy easy easy

Suis en retard, mais mieux vaut tard que jamais -

Mes amies les gargouilles qui veillent sur toi
Te protégeront de tous les imbéciles
Quand tu auras besoin d'un abri
Tu n'auras qu'à venir demander asile

Notre-Dame de Paris
C'est ma maison, mon nid
C'est ma ville, c'est ma vie
Mon air, mon toit, mon lit

C'est ma chanson, mon cri
Ma raison, ma folie
Ma passion, mon pays
Ma prison, ma patrie

Tes amies les gargouilles sont aussi mes amies
C'est elles qui me font rire le jour quand je m'ennuie
Et toi tu leur ressembles et tu me plais pour ça
Même si j'ai peur de toi toujours quand je te vois

Dans ma maison à moi
Il y fait toujours beau
L'hiver il fait moins froid
L'été il fait moins chaud

Tu viendras quand tu veux
Quelle que soit la saison
Ma maison si tu veux
Ce sera ta maison

Quand tu auras besoin d'un abri
Tu n'auras qu'à venir demander asil

Dans ma maison à moi / Dans ta maison à toi
Il y fait toujours beau
L'hiver il fait moins froid
L'été il fait moins chaud
Tu viendras quand tu veux / Je viendrais quand je veux
Quelle que soit la saison
Ma maison si tu veux / Ta maison si je veux

Ce sera ta maison

Ce sera ma maison

I am so fucking sick of being deemed inadmissible or objectionable, of being constantly dismissed and invalidated.

I don't care the reasons, it's just plain not okay.

You don't have to agree. You never have to agree. But you're out of line. I am so fucking sick and tired of being bent out of shape to fit your mold. I disagree, too.

I don't feel like it's a lot to ask. I don't even know why I would have to ask at all.

I just want to be allowed to be me.

Put me back in the cold
I'm going to Antarctica
It feels like these days
our old meeting place
In an LA cafe
Off on the Serengeti
The hunt has now begun

'Cause I am tired of you taking from me
And I have let you eat from the fruits of my tree
I am not the one to turn into a laurel wreath
For the last time you have crossed my
Crossed my line

You could never see, never see
Apollo's frock
Was always as beautiful
Always as beautiful as the saddest rainstorm
Apollo, your frock
Was always as beautiful
Always as beautiful as your sister's
That your light shined on

How can you think you've won
When there can be no winners
The soul has been lost
Of the bow and quiver
Do you remember
Well, I remember
Amid the clashing of swords
I'm losing you in my rear view

And I have called the Shekhina in
And the nine fold and a few other friends
You and your predators were warned
If the cubs were drawn in for the last time
You would officially cross my line

You could never see, never see
Apollo's frock
Was always as beautiful
Always as beautiful as the saddest rainstorm
Apollo, your frock
Was always as beautiful
Always as beautiful as your sister

Apollo, your frock
Was always as beautiful
Always as beautiful as the saddest rainstorm
Apollo, your frock
Was always as beautiful
Always as beautiful as your sister's
That your light shined on 

I got lost on my wedding day
Typical, the police came
But virgins always get backstage
No matter what they've got to say
If you love enough you'll lie a lot
Guess they did in Camelot
Mama's waiting on my front lawn
I pray, I pray
I pray for Jackie's strength
Make me laugh
Say you know what you want
You said we were the real thing
So I show you some more and I learn

How out of sync can we be?

It's you and me and you're nowhere to be found
I'm rolling on the floor
It's me and you and I'm nowhere to be found

I've been watching all the time
And I still can't find the tack
And I wanna know is it okay?
Is it just fine?
Or is it my fault, is it my lack?

Having kids obsessed with Transformers means watching the same Youtube Transformers tributes over and over again. Those tributes are generally made to some dance song that is not entirely appropriate for the age-range of little ones.

It could be worse, but right now I am quite thankful my kids don't understand English when Coco walks around the house singing Be my bad boy, be my man / Be my weekend lover but don't be my friend / Be my bad boy, but understand / That I don't need you in my life again.

Today, even the rain
Even the rain
Even the rain
Can cut me up...

À 20 h 19 hier soir, j'ai texté Alex : "Câlisse."

À 20 h 19 hier soir, Radio-Canada a annoncé que le prochain gouvernement serait formé par la CAQ. Il était quoi, 20 h 35 quand ils ont annoncé que ce gouvernement serait majoritaire? Je ne sais plus, je crois que je suis encore en état de choc.

La CAQ, passe encore. On pouvait s'y attendre. Mais majoritaire? Vraiment, gang? Vous êtes rendus là? Nous sommes rendus là, collectivement?

Sommes-nous vraiment devenus si petits, si faibles, si aveugles? Nous sommes-nous réellement laissés terroriser par des miroirs déformants, des idées mal fondées, des grandes phrases que nous n'avons pas décortiquées? Avons-nous accepté d'oublier ou de mettre de côté les vrais dangers, les vrais enjeux? Préférons-nous vraiment notre nombril à un avenir collectif? En sommes-nous venus, à l'instar de nos voisins du Sud, à ne plus remettre en question, à croire sur parole, et à lutter contre des moulins à vent?

Cet été, pour éviter les chicanes, je traçais souvent une ligne au milieu du carré de sable pour que Bout d'Chou et Coco aient chacun leur propre espace, sur lequel l'autre ne pouvait pas empiéter. Mais ce sont des enfants. Je ne m'attends pas à ce qu'ils comprennent que c'est crissement artificiel de séparer le sable, que c'est le même sable partout, même de l'autre côté de la ligne, et qu'il leur appartient en commun et non isolément. Mais nous? Croyons-nous vraiment aussi profondément à des délimitations qui n'existent pas?

Mais vous êtes où??? Ya vraiment personne qui va s'ouvrir les yeux? Il est minuit moins une, gang, pis ya personne qui regarde l'heure.


Les journées de pluie ont noirci le décor
Et les nouvelles sont mauvaises encore
Les gens se font beaucoup moins de bien que de tort
Sur tes deux oreilles tu dors encore
Des dizaines de tempêtes ont soufflé
Des éclairs ont tonné par milliers
La rivière a même de son lit débordé
Toi tu devrais peut-être y rester
Rendors-toi

La tourmente est encore au centre de l'histoire
S'ils sont même arrivés à la voir
Que cette chose déchue qu'on appelle l'espoir
Disparaît tranquillement dans le noir
Quand le bleu du ciel sera voilé
Que le soleil ne pourra plus percer
Lorsque ce jour viendra et que je partirai
Crois-moi je te réveillerai
Rendors-toi

Rendors-toi
C'n'est pas encore la fin du monde
Pas encore la dernière seconde
Ce jour de pluie bientôt cessera
Rendors-toi

Les journées de pluie ont noirci le décor
Et les nouvelles sont mauvaises encore
Les gens se font beaucoup moins de bien que de tort
Sur tes deux oreilles tu dors encore
Si les pleurs sur les joues ont coulé
Et le temps plus rien ne peut changer
Lorsque ce jour viendra et que je partirai
Crois-moi je te réveillerai
Rendors-toi

C'n'est pas encore la fin du monde
Pas encore la dernière seconde
Ce jour de pluie bientôt cessera
Rendors-toi
Rendors-toi
Rendors-toi
Rendors-toi
Rendors-toi

Evidence. I was always big on evidence. It's a need that's akin to nostalgia, but not really, because somehow the point was always to make sure I never had the chance to forget. I don't know why. I probably should figure it out - but I'll save it for another day.

I'm also big on second-guessing. And I call it rationalizing. It doesn't make any sense, and I know, but whenever things get nonsensical - scary, wrong, forbidden - I will be the first to pinpoint where exactly I must be reading into them. So they make sense again, and I feel comfortable.

Of course, hindsight gives an unfair advantage in any ulterior reconsideration of evidence. But this. This. Sure, inexperience and youth will take some of the blame - but god, the astonishing, untenable level of blatant denial. 

With the passing of time, I forgot the exact words and gestures and the weight of the subtext. I forgot the instinctive emotional reactions that were out of my grasp. I kept an absolute, theorized version of the story and accepted my confusion as one of the basic components of the backdrop.

I planted that telltale piece of evidence based on intuition alone - at least that part of my brain was still functional. It might have been the only one, because - whatever more did I need to let my guard down and acknowledge what was right under my naive nose? I wanted an unequivocal message, free from any pretense, and there it freaking was.

Ironically enough, I saved it so I could remember and then proceeded to setting it entirely aside while rationalizing it into an acceptable transaction.

Now the implications all jump at me and I can't believe they were foggy then. And that just reinforces that feeling that I've had for a while that I really need to start trusting my instincts.

After all, what was I really looking for?
And I wonder when will I learn?
Maybe my wish knew better than I did
And I wonder when will I learn?
When will I learn?
Guess I was in deeper than I thought I was

Ophelia, you must remember
Veronica's America is not like --
Is not like Charlotte's, one to savor
Cosmic flavor
Then Alison whispers, "remember
Change waltzes in with her sister Pain
Waiting for you to send her away
Wish her well, break the chain
Break the chain"
I feel you

And there are forces of conflict
Taking portions of my mind
In whose realm laced with trickery
The fragments I must find
And I can almost out run you
And those stalking memories
Did I somehow become you
Without realizing
Found a little patch of heaven now
So then I'm gonna turn oysters in the sand
'Cause I'm working my way back
I'm working my way back to me again
Not every girl is a pearl
With these ruby slippers
With these ruby slippers
So then I'm gonna turn oysters in the sand
Turn
Turn
Not every girl is popular
Popular
Popular
Not every girl is a pearl
With these ruby slippers
With these ruby slippers
So then I 'm gonna turn oysters in the sand
In the sand
In the sand
Turn
Turn
Turn

Ce matin, c'est cette chanson qui a joué à la radio à mon réveil. Ce simple fait est troublant en lui-même puisque cette chanson est sortie quand j'étais possiblement encore au primaire. Mais bref. Je ne l'aimais pas particulièrement, mais elle me fascinait complètement, parce qu'il s'agit au fond d'une longue tirade stylée, au "vous" de surcroît, visant juste à dire "fuck you". Ya vraiment un effort là-dedans qui venait me chercher. Tsé, pour comparer, quelques années plus tard, Kim Stockwood a sorti "Jerk". (Cela dit, c'est beaucoup plus défoulant de chanter "You are such a jerk" en cas de besoin, mais pareil.)

Milles et une raisons de vous haïr
Mais aucune pour vous fuir
Je pense avoir fait tant de partages
Mais parfois il faut savoir rester sage
Combien fois vouliez-vous me trahir
Je vous avoue rien ne sert de mentir
Si ma bouche tant de temps est restée close
Mes yeux m'ont révélé tant d'affreuses choses
Parfois je pourrais tuer votre image
En deux mots comme en deux coups de couteau
Mais jamais je n'ai trouvé assez de courage
Oser vous affronter et quitter votre peau
Pourriez-vous me traiter de lâche
Je pensais qu'on panse mes erreurs
Quelle douleur
Quel con d'avoir cru être à la hauteur
J'entends encore toutes ces confessions
Ces mensonges livrés par vos mains sales
Combien de moments avez-vous compté
Sans tricher
Où votre bouche disait la vérité
Sentez-vous la honte monter au visage
Ou suis-je le seul à croire en votre sensibilité
Un jour je laisserai mes mots tuer votre image
Ce serait si beau de vous de voir tomber en sanglots
Parfois je sens monter assez de courage
Vous mettre à terre noyée dans vos sanglots
Même si je ne détruisais que votre image
Je prendrai plaisir à vous faire tomber de haut
J'effacerai de mon esprit votre passage
Effacer vous et votre jolie peau
On pourrait me prendre pour un sauvage
C'est si beau, vous voir tomber de haut
c'est si beau, c'est si beau
C'est si beau, c'est si beau, vous voir tomber de haut
Un jour je laisserai mes mots tuer votre image
Ce serait si beau en deux coups de couteaux
Je brouillerai les pistes de votre beau visage
Tant pis pour vous et votre jolie peau
Même si je ne détruisais que votre image
Ce serait si beau en douze mille morceaux
Un jour vous sentirez tout le rouge de ma rage
Et me laisserez vous lacérer de bas en haut
Je m'avouerai être un sauvage

Suede, you always felt like suede
There are days I feel your twin
Peekaboo, hiding underneath your skin
Jets are rewing, yes rewing
From a central source
And this has power over me
Not because you feel something
Or don't feel something for me
But because
Mass so big it can swallow
Swallow her whole star intact
Call me 'evil' call me 'tide is on your side'
Anything that you want
Anybody knows you can conjure anything
By the dark of the moon
Boy and if you keep your silence
Silencer on you'll  talk yourself right into a job
Out of a hole, into my bayou
I'm sure that you've been briefed
My absorption lines, they are frayed
And I fear my fear is greater than my faith
But I walk the missionary way
You always felt like suede
There are days I am your twin
Peekaboo, hinding underneath your skin
Juets are rewing, yes rewing
From an ether twist
Call me 'evil' little sister
I guess I'd do the same
Little sister
You'll forgive me one day

Hier matin, j'ai proposé à Coco d'écouter de la musique pendant qu'on préparait des crêpes. J'ai essayé de le convaincre d'écouter le Roi Lion, mais il a réclamé la musique de Frozen. Parce que certaines chansons m'ont rappelé Miss Saigon, j'ai mis la bande sonore en background brièvement quand Raiontzukai est descendu à la salle de jeu avec les enfants pendant que je continuais à cuisiner.

Ce fut mon move du siècle, celui qui me sauve aujourd'hui. Car si j'ai passé une bonne partie de l'avant-midi à fredonner intérieurement une chanson de Frozen, celle-ci vient d'être remplacée par Miss Saigon, pis c'est pas mal plus le fun.

Mimi, Gigi, Yvette or Yvonne
Gonna buy me a beer
And elect Miss Saigon!