Posts Tagged Nicolas Sarkozy

State persecution?

State persecution?

It has been a while since my last blog. A good while. I cannot think of any specific reason as even with my busy I have always been able to find a spare five minutes here and there, but hey.

This article in The Guardian however did stick in my craw – yet another wormy diatribe from an ivory tower dweller about our good old friends the Romany people and the rather unfortunate news that the French government has finally started to crack down on their itinerant and criminal behaviour. So Sarko and Co. have finally woken up and realised that something needs to be done – resulting in the usual hysterical bleating from the usual circle of do-gooder scribblers. Read the rest of this entry »

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The Forrest Gump of French Politics

The Forrest Gump of French Politics

Nicolas Sarkozy has this funny habit of making me laugh.

No, not because he is in every way a wannabe modern Napoleon Bonaparte. Not because, like Kim Jong-Il, he wears high-heeled shoes in order to look taller when standing behind a podium. Not because he flaunts his supermodel wife like a fashion accessory.

Sarkozy has it all – he is president of one of Europe’s largest democracies, is married to the not unattractive Carla Bruni and gets to live in the Élysée Palace. And yet he still feels the need to play the role of the man who somehow needs to have done everything and been everywhere, even when it makes him look like a blithering idiot. One can only wonder what might have happened had we managed to get Sarko, Gordon Brown and former US President George W. Bush into a room to have a game of pin the tail on the donkey: Dubya would have pinned the tail where the head would go and break into a gurning smile, McBroon would have missed the point of the exercise completely, while Sarko would have waited twenty years to tell us all that he had managed to ride away on what was not a donkey buy a thoroughbred cheval.

Sarko’s latest stunt – some would say scandal, though I think it is far too comedic for that – involves his alleged appearance in Berlin on November 9th 1989 which he has shared with the world on his Facebook profile page. Here we see the twenty-years-younger Sarko and a friend chipping merrily chipping away at the Berlin wall – playing his own little part in what was the beginning of Die Wende.

It now has emerged that Sarkozy, then mayor of the Paris district of Neuilly, was not in Berlin at all on November 9th but in Paris celebrating a Charles de Gaulle anniversary; his claim that he was there with former Prime Minister Alain Juppé has also been disputed by Juppé himself, who has said that the pair arrived in Berlin a week later on November 16th. That said, even if Sarko had managed to be in Berlin on November 9th while his double was in Paris he would never have been able to be seen chipping away at the wall that evening; there was little chance he would have made it in time – even if he had a direct line to Erich Mielke at Stasi HQ – and West Berliners only started hacking at the wall on the following day in any case.

Nicolas Sarkozy playing his own little role in history...

Nicolas Sarkozy playing his own little role in history... Allegedly.

Ah, but Sarko tells us that he had gone through Checkpoint Charlie and had started hacking at the wall from the Eastern side – so what does it matter that the citizens of West Berlin only got wind of things the following day? They were beaten to the punch, donchaknow. Le Supersarko got there first:

“Later, we went to Checkpoint Charlie to go through to the eastern side of the city and confront this wall, on which we were able to land a few blows with a pickax[e]”. (“In France, a Clash of Memories and Media”, New York Times)

Hmm. Despite Sarko’s invented memory suggesting that he and his pals were chipping away from the Eastern side, this is contradicted by the photograph itself which shows the section of wall covered in graffiti. And as anyone with even a passing knowledge of this period of history knows, the graffiti was on the Western side. Nobody – save those who ran the risk of being shot at by the trigger-happy Grepos – got even close enough to daub enough a spot of paint on the eastern side of the ridiculously-titled Antifaschistischer Schutzwall or “Anti-Fascist Protective Rampart”, which was as plain and grey as the day it was constructed in 1961.

So what is the point of this exercise? Not content to simply play his presidential role, Sarko has seen fit to buttress this with some cock-and-bull story that he somehow did more – and that he was right in the thick of the action. It leaves German Chancellor Angela Merkel trailing his wake: while Sarko the hero was supposedly rubbing shoulders with the newly-reunited citizens of East and West Berlin, Frau Merkel was heading off after work for her weekly session at the sauna. Which is, of course, far less exciting.

One has to wonder where Sarko will be seen next – rumour has it that he was also seen in Nazareth some two-thousand years ago. Or was it on the moon? Or at the elaborate coronation of Emperor Bokassa I?

I think it is time for some Sarkozy-related Photoshop phuckery-phoo, Forrest Gump stylee… Watch this space!

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Si vous regardez dans les toilettes, vous trouverez la merde

Si vous regardez dans les toilettes, vous trouverez la merde

I have already posted my own take on the Roman Polanski saga; once is enough, and I am sure everyone who is reading this blog knows what I think of this little insect.

What is perhaps more shocking however is the back story of Frédéric Mitterrand, the French Culture Minister who “came out” (pardon the very obvious pun) very loudly in support of Monsieur Polanski. By all accounts Mitterrand – like his crooked uncle François – is a rather unctuous individual who has more than a passing similarity to our much-beloved Peter Mandelson.

Mitterrand fights for his job after rent boy admission

Of course, nobody in the mainstream political elites want to lay their cards down on table for fear of being lambasted as “haters” by the media – which means that those outside this circle of friends who have nothing to lose are left to say what the most of the public actually think. In France this means the FN and Marine le Pen, who has had no qualms about saying what she thinks of M. Mitterrand and his salacious lifestyle.

Frédéric Mitterrand

Frédéric Mitterrand: just as slimy as he looks

In demanding the Culture Minister’s immediate resignation, Mme. le Pen has stolen a march on Nicolas Sarkozy’s ailing government, making the point that needed to be made. Perhaps more galling for the poor afflicted M. Mitterrand is that others from outside the political establishment – namely, the left – have also raised their voices in indignation at his conduct. In response, the best M. Mitterrand can offer makes him look even more of an idiot:

“If the National Front drag me through the mud then it is an honour for me. If a leftist politician drags me through the mud then it is a humiliation for him.”

Frankly, I am flabbergasted as to why people like Frédéric Mitterrand have been able to worm their way into positions of power and influence. I am more than aware that these days it is seen as some sort of obligation (to what end, I have no idea) to include a homosexual/Muslim/vegetarian/whatever in your cabinet – but a man who has written quite proudly of his dalliances with rentboys? It beggars belief.

The position taken by other politicians in defence of M. Mitterrand’s is positively mind-boggling, one example being the head of Sarkozy’s UMP party, Xavier Bertrand. In what is clearly a botched attempt to maintain the gulf between what he sees as his vision of France and the opinions from outside of the establishment, he only succeeds in digging himself into a deeper hole:

“The Socialists are now on the same ground as the extreme right, it’s incredible. One is not obliged to use private life for political ends” . (Source: Daily Telegraph, Frédéric Mitterrand admitted to paying for sex with ‘young boys’ in Thailand)

Erm, right.

I believe that everyone has a right to a private life, but there must be some sort of demarcation somewhere – particularly where those in positions of influence and responsibility are concerned. It is one thing to go trainspotting every weekend or engage in arcane sexual practices with one’s wife; it is of a completely different order to be procuring young boys in some seedy Bangkok back street.

Xavier Bertrand’s reasoning is not too dissimilar to the facile argument put forward by those clowns who believe nobody should own a German Shepherd “because Hitler did”; it is a case of, quite simply, “if the right says it, so it must be wrong”. I think Marine le Pen and the FN could be onto something here – she just needs to say one thing, and all of the sheep in the establishment will bleat the opposite.

Personally, I’d shove Mitterrand, Betrand and their ilk on a plane with their mate Polanski and cart them all off to America. Then they can play “let’s pick up the bar of slippery soap” with some overweight, tattooed redneck called Bubba.

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peterallenwatch: a bumper edition…

Peter Allen, a journalist I am keeping a close eye on, appears to be the “man in France” for the British press. In addition to the lack of grasp of military history and overuse of Babelfish which is something of common feature of the modern hack, Allen also seems to have something of an obsession with French President Nicolas Sarkozy and his wife Carla Bruni. Indeed on the resource, which lists all articles by those writing for the UK press, Allen’s summary states that he has written ‘more about Sarkozy than anyone else’ and ‘a lot about Sarkozy’ in the last month. In addition to informing the world about the threat of a second Normandy invasion by fans of, of course.

This week Allen has been particularly productive – it must be the weather or something. The stories from the continent range from the dramatic to the bizarre, and yes – there is among them a piece on Carla.

One of the articles covers a story that is sure to draw political lines across Europe – Sarkozy’s statement on the Islamic headdress, the Burqa.

“The burqa is not a sign of religion, it is a sign of subservience. It will not be welcome on the territory of the French republic.”

Bold words indeed.

I would for very obvious reasons choose not to trust Allen’s translation of Sarkozy’s actual statement, but it is fairly clear what the gist is. What is absolutely certain is that the French President has done a rare thing for an elected European leader – he has finally stood up and jabbed a finger back in the eye of what is a growing problem on this continent. Yes, some may argue that women walking around in costumes that make them look like Daleks may be a minor issue, but it is simply the thin end of the wedge.

One has to wonder what the clowns in Labour Party Towers think of all this – after all, Sarko has made a statement little different from that of Dutch politician and Geert Wilders, who was turned around at Heathrow back in February like some common criminal. What with his alleged snub of the Queen over the D-Day commemorations, Sarko is increasing his chances of being the next Euro politician to be shown the door by our otherwise very welcoming immigration officers.

Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminaaaaaaaaaate!

Sarkozy’s statement was more than likely made in response to that made by US President Barack Obama last week about “the freedom to bare arms (or not, in the case of certain Islamic-fundi types) – which is all the more admirable as it would have been far easier to simply revert to type and crawl further up Obama’s behind.

I am beginning to quite like Baruch Hussein – he seems to be at one with the people and has proven himself to be a master fly-swatter – but he would do well not to meddle in what are European social affairs. He may be more well-travelled and urbane that your average American politician, but he knows little of what actually goes on in the streets of many European cities; it would be the same as a European leader lecturing him on how to deal with poverty and crime in Compton and Watts.

Moving away from this and onto migration of another sort, Allen also wrote last week about a plan currently underway in France to prevent the threat of a dangerous breed of mosquitoes making their way across the channel – according to this article, there has been a mass chemical carpet-bombing of wide swathes of Northern France and Western Belgium.

Perhaps it hasn’t struck those concerned – or Peter Allen – that these chemicals might actually be better employed on another sort of parasite, that of the two-legged variety. I am not talking about the massed armies of marauding illegal immigrants, but their army of crusty do-gooder protectors apparently making their way towards Calais to demand an end to border controls between France and Britain. Some people should get a job.

And then we have the Carla story.

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It’s funny how blogs develop organically. This one started out just as a six of one, half a dozen of the other sort of project – observations, little cartoons, curious asides… That sort of thing. Then came the realisation that the Daily Mail were obsessed by the Second World War and the Nazis, which provided the basis for Daily Mail Nazi Story of the Week.

Following the rather childish and badly-researched article on my Panzer Ace website by the hack Peter Allen, I did a little digging on this scribbler and found a number of articles of equal quality: either badly-researched hatchet jobs or childish doggerel. Hence my new little project: peterallenwatch.

Much of the childish doggerel is focussed on current French President Nicolas Sarkozy and his wife Carla Bruni – if there is a story to be found that mentions Carla’s current fashion statement or Nico’s lack of height, Mr Allen is right there on the spot. The obsession with Sarkozy’s height is now rather tired: yes, he’s 5′ 5″. A shortarse. Napoleonesque. OK, yes, whatever.

Get over it, Allen. Sarko is the President of one of the most powerful countries in the world; you, mon ami, are a clown masquerading as a journalist.

Allen’s most recent contribution to the world of news is the revelation that – get this, folksNicolas Sarkozy uses a footstool when standing behind a podium. I am still staggering at the revelation, and I still cannot see on account of my eyes having glazed over in wonderment. Groundbreaking journalism, indeed: give the man a prize.

Of course, the subject allows Allen to prattle on – for the umpteenth time – about Carla’s irritation at having to wear low-heeled shoes and her calling her husband “my little chou chou”.

I cannot wait for the next instalment – watch this space!

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