Tigers & Dragons

This sections regroups aphorisms and any other form of wit, preferably irreverent, from various authors.

Cette section rassemble des aphorismes, et autres traits spirituels de préférence irrévérencieux, de divers auteurs.

English:

God and the devil are such silent workers that, when one contemplates their craft, one sees nothing but men.

Français:

Le diable et le bon Dieu sont de si discrets travailleurs que, lorsqu'on les regarde à l'oeuvre, on ne voit que des hommes.

I put my old winnebago on auction on ebay, and I made a new friend! He's really nice...

******

Le 30 sept. 2011 15:25, "Smith John" 
Subject: Re: Rover 623 SI Kingston 130581554255

I will like to know if your car still available for sell and what is your asking price???

******

Yes, it's available on auction for another 24h, base price of 750 euros.

Best,

James Harrington

******

Le 30 sept. 2011 16:16, "Smith John"

Thanks for the prompt response. I am ready to buy it now as a Birthday gift for my son and i am at sea at the moment as i am a marine engineer and due to the nature of my work, phone calls making and visiting of website are restricted but i squeezed out time to check this advert and send you an email regarding it. I really want it to be a surprise for My son so i wont let him know anything about it until it gets delivered to him, i am sure he will be more than happy with it. I insisted on PayPal because i don't have access to my bank account online as i don't have internet banking, but i can pay from my paypal account, as i have my bank a/c attached to it, i will need you to give me your paypal email address and the price so i can make the payments asap for it and pls if you don't have paypal account yet, it is very easy to set up, go towww.paypal.com and get it set up, after you have set it up i will only need the e-mail address you use for registration with paypal so as to put the money through. I have a pick up agent that will come and pick it up after i have made the payments...Thanks!!!

******

Sure. No problem, I will sell the car for 2000 $. My paypal email address is danstoncul@gmail.com ( upyours@gmail.com ) 

Best regards,

James Harrington

******

Le 30 sept. 2011 18:03, "Smith John" 
Subject: Re: URGENT REPLY NEEDED PLEASE!!! Rover 623 SI Kingston 130581554255

Oh,I need to inform you about this,just received an email from my pick agent...am most sure i did not include that in my previous email,he said he won't come for the pick up unless i pay him the agent commission fee first in order to be able to schedule a pick up time and my pick up agent Head Quarters is in the abroad and all commission payment made for pick up from anywhere in the world is sent to their Head Quarters in the abroad and the only form of payment they accept is western union money transfer.I have tried to pay online but i will need a credit card which i didn't bring aboard the ship,and there is no post office(there is usually a western union section in most post offices) or any western union agent on sea! so i have to ask you to help me with the pick up fees, i will include the $800 they charged to pick it up and take it my home(1st class treatment), to the payment i will send through PayPal, after i have made the payment.I will need you to help me send the $800 to my pick up agent through western union money transfer, the western union money transfer can be made at a post office near to you,there is always a western union agent in most post offices or online atwww.westernunion.com .I will be making the payment shortly and will email you as soon as it has been done.

******

From: James Harrington To: Smith John Sent: Friday, September 30, 2011 9:10 AM

Sure, what do you want me to do?

James Harrington

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Le 30 sept. 2011 18:16, "Smith John"

just want you to know that i will transfer the total of 2800$ into your paypal account now which you are going to help em transfer the 800$ to my agent address via western union money transfer once payment made okay.... i also tried to pay my agent myself online but I will need a credit card which I didn't bring to the ship, and there is no post office or any western union agent on sea so i cant locate any western union office so should i transfer all the money now??? hope to hear back from you soon

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From: James Harrington To: Smith John Sent: Friday, September 30, 2011 9:19 AM
Subject: Re: URGENT REPLY NEEDED PLEASE!!! Rover 623 SI Kingston 130581554255

Ok. Looking forward to receiving your 2800 dollars.

James Harrington

******

From : John Smith

Subject : Payment made!!

Payment has been made and i sent $3,000.00 in all,paypal should have emailed you confirmation regarding the transfer that i made ,i will advice you to carefully go through the message in your EMAIL regarding the payment because i think paypal will be holding the payment until they get the western union information they are asking from you so that they can assure that you have transfer the $800.00 added to the payment to my shipping agent............. i also tried to pay my agent myself online but I will need a credit card which I didn't bring to the ship, and there is no post office or any western union agent on sea so i cant locate any western union office so please transfer the money so that my paypal can credit the $3,000.00 into your account as soon as you have emailed the western union details to them.Kindly do transfer the money today and get back to paypal with the western union details so that they can verify and complete the transaction with immediate effect..also get back to me with your full house address so that my mover can come for the pick up the in time...Thanks

I also add $200 to the payment for the western union charge..kindly do get back to me as soon as you have complete the transaction with paypal.Okay

Here is the pick up agent info needed to get the money sent through western union money transfer:

Name:Alex Paul
Address:24 Grosvenor Square
London, W1A 2LQ
United Kingdom.

Hope to read back from you about the western union information okay...Thanks

******

Ok, I have just made the transfer for 800 $. I haven't received anything from Paypal,maybe they forgot. When can I have my money?

James Harrington

******

can you reply me with the western union details now including your full house address to transfer all the money now okay..hope to hear back from you soon

John Smith

*****

Ok. Western union gave me a document after the payment, here are the details:

It's a one-page document, in A4, white paper.
There's a nice Western union logo on the upper left corner, it's yellow. Then there's a bunch of things written below, like,you know, the amount and transaction reference number,that kind of stuff. 
And at the bottom, they wrote "thank you for working with western union".

I hope that this information is useful to you. How is everything on your ship? I hope you don't get bored.

Best regards,

*****

Yes that is the western union receipt...kindly get back to me with the scan receipt now okay

John Smith

*****

J. Smith

*****

Sure. The number is 2. The sender is Anna-Lise d'Hurinne [translate : Urinn, Anna-Lisa] (she's my wife, I sent her to the post office, because I was in the loo), and her email is pauvrecondescroc@gmail.com

Hope this helps!

James Harrington

On my flight out of Lagos, I take one last look at the town, from the plane window.  My plane is fully booked, when my flight over was almost empty ; seems a lot more people fly from than to the place, which makes sense to me.

Despite the three alarm clocks set to wake me very early this morning, none of them worked, as the power blew out during the night and the receptionist fell asleep, failing to give me the ordered wake-up call.  But I managed to catch my flight anyway. On the way over to the airport, with the driver going 100 mph on roads I wouldn’t drive 12 on, I kept trying to put a finger or a name on the different feelings I was getting from the place.  The kind that you couldn’t accurately position in the array of perceptions, but that you know are there somewhere. 

Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink...  

I don’t know if anyone has ever called Africa  the timeless continent.  If one hasn’t, I will do so now, without your permission.  Everyone wears fancy counterfeit watches, yet you are hit by the absence of time; and space.  People you have appointments with will be there or not, God will decide.  Time has no grip on anyone, anywhere.  And you have no grip on space.  Motorcycles fly in over your head in traffic, from a direction where there is no road. A sedan parks next to you, and 9 adult people get out, leaving you to figure out the geometric jigsaw.  In spite of all this, you must constantly monitor space around you. Firstly, for the always-obvious security reasons.  Secondly, for the big black Mamma coming up behind you and zeroing in on the buffet.  It’s not nasty, it’s not even rude, it’s just the way they move.  They have right of way. Should you pay no heed to that prerogative, a massive African breast will provide you with a firm reminder (i.e. bounce you out of the way into the closest wall).  So scrawny little honkeys like me should just keep an eye out.  I mean, if you realized you were on a collision course with, say, a train, you’d move, right? I rest my case. 

Everything is somewhere else than it should be, here;  everything is other than it looks, and nobody is who they say they are.  Police officers moonlight as armed robbers at night, when they don’t rent out their uniforms to non-police armed robbers.  They are among the greater threats in the country for the population.  As a result, the population turns into police, and form their own militias and vigilante.  Where there should be prosperity in the country, with money flowing by the billions with oil/mineral revenue, desolation and resignation is all I see.  Death lurks everywhere life should glitter - in the water, in the food and in women’s wombs.  The people smile, they are thoughtful, helpful, and they always insist on carrying my bags.  Of course I know they would slit my throat in a split second, had they a chance to, for the 40 euros in my pocket.  I’ve been told this and, moreover, seen it in their eyes: when you see it, it is impossible to have a doubt about it.

The way you are seen, who you are for them, is, I must confess, hard to handle.  Because you are white, the opposite of black, because you wear a suit, different from sports outfits, you are therefore everything in opposite to them.  You are therefore rich, and you are therefore happy.  Whether the light you spark up in their eyes is a cinder of coveting, or a spark of envy and admiration , the least you can say is that you cannot pass unnoticed, wherever you go.  There are no tourists here, not one.  And businesses send as few Westerners as possible, for security reasons. As a result, the white man is quite exceptional, and I must have seen no more than a handful.  The fantasies they project onto me give me a disturbing sense of false entitlement .  If I walk up to anyone and just say Hello, my name is John Doe, they will leap into the conversation and live “talking to the white man” as an intense experience, when the passer-by in Paris or Boston would snortily answer “Well, good for you”, and keep walking.  The blinding certainty that you could have any woman, because they would try their luck on the infinitesimal chance you might bring them back to Europe and marry them out of dodge, makes you smile sadly at their beauty, turned into freight and shipped abroad.

The women are round, all over, from their cheekbones to their muscular calves.  Their bottoms are made out of bowling balls, and their shoulders bulge when they carry water.  Their heads haven’t  been flattened over time, carrying around whatever it is they are selling.  And, I must say, it is rather a beautiful roundness, and it fits in the landscape.  Their cambered  backs let whatever hurt falls from the sky roll off to the ground, like turtles, and children attached to their mother continue to disrupt their silhouette, long after they’ve been born.

As I approach Casablanca, on my way to Paris, I’m starting to realize my luck : at the customs desk, the government official asked me for money, so he could go eat some breakfast.  I told him I had no change, which was true.  But he let me through, just on the excuse I had valid papers.  I am pretty lucky to be on the plane. 

Note to self : from now on, count my blessings.

James Harrington

Written in Lagos, Nigeria, shortly after arriving. Lagos is known as one of the most dangerous cities in the world.

--

Dear all,

Nigeria’s power system has different voltage than that of France, so this now traditional newsletter will last as long as my battery will.

Some people believe in a half-divine natural equilibrium in the world. For every wrong, there is a right; for every pirate, there is a Samaritan; and for every tear, there is a laugh. I arrived this morning in Nigeria, and I now know what counter-balances Switzerland. Nothing here is regulated, nothing is safe, and you would be wise not to think yourself a part of a large, comfortable and secured system : you’re on your own.

My father taught me there was no such thing as a free lunch : the aphorism is dealt with brutality in this land. Everything has a price here (not a fixed one, but to be bargained), including human life. Hitmans are for hire for $80/mark. On the way out of the plane, I spotted a traditional woman emptying the plane of all the individual blankets distributed by the airline, and hauling them back home. I was the last to leave the aircraft, and it felt like locusts had been there : nothing left, not a blanket, not a blindfold, not a two-bit earpiece for the movies.

When I was picked up by Nigerian police (no movements in town are allowed without armed guards), I was driven to the fortified compound my client holds downtown. I was given a briefing, which went basically like this :

· Don’t walk around in town, lest you be mugged.
· Don’t drive around at night, lest you be murdered.
· Don’t leave this area, or you will never be seen again.
· Don’t draw cash in a bank, lest the clerk take your card details and plunder your account.
· Don’t drink the water, or you will lose half your body weight within 24 hours.
· Eat the food way overcooked, never mind the taste

Und so weiter.

So, basically, as long as I stay within the boundaries fixed by my client’s security team, I’m perfectly safe. The only people I am allowed to deal with are individuals the company has been in contact with for years. So the journey isn’t stressful, but it feels a little unreal to be out of harm’s way when a day doesn’t pass without a handful of people being kidnapped or murdered somewhere in the country.

So, when the chef in my hotel suggested today’s special, the beef carpaccio, my imagination dealt me an image of a steak rolled up in a rag in a drawer somewhere since last December, enticing me to let the offer pass. And I have just experienced brushing my teeth with beer, as letting the faucet water into my mouth would be as safe as licking the pavement. Don’t do this at home : beer + toothpaste=foul taste.

Every time I travel to Africa, it brings me priceless perspective. I feel a little ashamed of my fellow countrymen, wailing and whining year in, year out, about how life is difficult & unfair for them, when I feel embarrassed to be white and wear a suit, here. I feel awkward about my neighbors getting angry at their government’s incapacity to solve their problems, when the state, here, doesn’t control half the territory. My own life is blissful, and I forget it too often. When I get back to Paris to my wife and children, my attachment to whom always surges in vivid resurgence every time I go abroad, I will remember to thank the Gods for a few months.

The power just blew in my room, probably due to the leak in the roof (rain season, here), despite my being in the best hotel in town. When I was on the plane, I kept looking at a Nigerian sitting a few seats ahead. To me, the destination point of our long-haul was a crime-ridden, god-forsaken place where staying under radar-cover was the way to stay out of trouble. To him, it was home.

Fact is, we were both right.

Good night, and good luck,
--

James Harrington

Written upon a business trip to Cairo, in June 2011, 6 months after the revolution.

*******************

Dear all,

It feels nice to know that, no matter how haywire the world is going, has gone, or will go, some things remain, no matter what. Upon my third trip to Cairo, I was wondering on the plane what to expect, as I had not come since the revolution.

And, to my mild surprise, not much has been altered in the little I see. My taxi swerved on the expressway last night, to avoid an entire block of californian wall that had fallen onto the road. Once the blood returned to my brain, I remembered that my last taxi, upon my last stay, had done the same thing, as the half-ton cement block was already there. That would be a year ago. Rumour has it that people are thinking about moving it out of the way.

The drives between airport hotel are long, and I get to look at the landscape, the desert, and all the things we don't have in our daily-vacuumed streets. I see the trucks carrying sand, probably from one desert to another (because that ton of sand didn't belong there), and letting half of it pour out onto the road. I see the thousands of buildings in construction, only half finished, which were at the exact same level of completion last time I came, with gear and cranes and all, but not a worker in sight. The only explanation I have gathered so far is that Egyptian workers must all suffer from severe attention deficit disorder.

The people are still as nice, polite, and helpful, their English is still as charmingly approximative, and people still cross expressways at night, with 9 children, on foot and wearing dark clothes. Bus drivers still use the expression "to drop someone off" quite literally, and all drivers regard traffic lanes as optional and charming elements of symetric aesthetics. The equivalent of half the population of Mexico is estimated to be killed every day on Egyptian roads. Which leaves me double-damned with perplexity. 1) How come there are still Egyptians around? 2) How can you kill people on roads when the entire country is at standstill, because of traffic jams? Exhaustion or hunger, perhaps.

Tomorrow, I will try not to miss my plane again because the taxi driver forgot to put gas in his car. Upon leaving Cairo, I will regret once again, not to have stayed an extra day to visit. Meanwhile, bless you all, keep it country, and all that.

Best,

James Harrington

Ma soeur reçoit ce poignant message à l'aide, un beau matin...

De Fleurelle Sanchez la Salutation,

Je sais que mon message sera d’une grande surprise quand t-il vous parviendra. Donc, je vous présente toutes mes excuses. Je vous écris sincèrement dans le but d’obtenir votre coopération et votre confiance pouvant me permettre d’effectuer une affaire Urgente avec vous, Très chère, c’est une proposition très sincère et noble que je vous fais. Apparemment je me nomme Mme FLEURELLE SANCHEZ je suis française résident a Londres. Le problème qui se pose de mon niveau est que je souffre d'un cancer du cerveau qui est en phase terminale, mon médecin vient de m'informer que mes jours sont comptés du fait de mon état de santé est dégradé. Je suis veuve et je n'ai pas d'enfant. J’envisage de faire une donation de tous mes biens. J’ai en ce moment dans mon compte personnel compte bloquer, la somme de 1.000.000 EUROS (UN MILLION D’EUROS) dans une mallette qui se trouve dans une banque au Bénin plus précisément en Afrique de l’ouest que j'avais gardé pour un projet. Je serai grée de vous donner cet argent qui pourra vous aider dans vos projet, je vous prie d'accepter cela car c'est un don que je vous fais et cela sans rien demander en retour.

Merci de votre compréhension

Mme fleurelle Sanchez

Ma soeur est très gentille, il ne lui viendrait donc pas à l'esprit de laisser ce cri de désespoir lettre morte.  Mais comme elle sait que je suis le responsable de la cellule "cas sociaux africains et autres escrocs", elle transmet au service compétent.

Le 15/02/2011 19:17, **** a écrit :

Apparemment je me nomme Fleurelle wants to speak to James, too.  
UN MILLION D'EUROS James.  Think about it.  

De plus, mon père, lui aussi un homme qui a le coeur sur la main, décide de m'apporter sa sagesse et son recul.

Now, the way I see it, James, there's pour & contre ici. Je ne doute pas que cette dame souffre d'un cancer terminal du cerveau ; cela me semble même plus que probable : si elle nous avait dit le contraire, je ne l'aurais pas crue. Par contre, elle n'est qu'apparemment FLEURELLE SANCHEZ; il pourrait donc s'agir d'une toute autre FLEURELLE. FLEURELLE McGILLICUTTY, par exemple, ou FLEURELLE GROSSENSCHMITTER-AUGSPLUNK, ce dont il faudrait tenir compte. Néanmoins, vu qu'elle habite non seulement le Bénin mais plus précisément en Afrique de l'ouest, la lettre, me semble-t-il, justifierait que tu grées la dame.

Think about it.

Le coeur serré par tant d'émotion et de tristesse, je prends ma plume pour tendre la main à cette âme en détresse.

Chère Madame,

Look out, US of A, here I come...

Good afternoon to some of y'all, good morning to y'all others,

Tradition being tradition, here is the newsletter.

I took the eurostar yesterday morning and got to London St-kidney (or whatever it's called). I walked over to the car rental place where I was handed over a Toyota Prius, with no instructions whatsoever. Trouble is, the inside looks like a jet fighter cockpit with 752 buttons and switches. In addition, the motor is electric, so you don't even know if the damn thing is running or not. So I stayed for 10 minutes on the parking lot like an idiot trying to drive a car...

I drove West (through the nice parts of London, which was very pleasant), and had a Guiness with a friend in Maidenhead, as I was afraid I would be arrested by the British police if I had not drunk before driving. A couple hours more westbound, and I checked into my hotel in Newport, where I was able to go for a swim, and get past the Welsh accent which brings me to ask them to repeat each sentence twice. I managed to dodge the stuffed sheep stomach for dinner, and headed off to bed.

This morning, it happened : I engaged into a roundabout french-style, which is to say the wrong-way-style (what is wrong with these people?). Fortunately, there was no one on it, and I escaped unscathed, my car undamaged (which is mercy, as the slightest scratch allows them to take my children as down-payment). I'm off to work, wishing France a nice day.

Best,

James Harrington

To all,

Back in the "city that never sleeps", here is my now traditional newsletter.  Elizabeth, I haven't had an opportunity to find your rock, but I'm keeping good hope.  As for Catherine, same goes for your "crème de beauté à la glande anale de castor".  I just need to check the currency rates (how many egyptian kidneys to a european one?  Anyone?).

I'm sleeping in a not-so-scruffy hotel, this time, and my room is the size of my appartment.  The people are nice, smile and sir me at every opportunity.  Then they shamelessly short-change me (more accurately, they decide which tip I'm giving them).

My flight in was horrendous. A french redneck family was seated behind me.  The father, I think, died shortly after take-off, and never reacted to his mismanaged mischief's misbehavior.  The mother, it seemed, had designed an entirely new educational school-of-thought, which consists in letting her rats methodically kick the back of my seat for 45 straight minutes and then physically and verbally assault them.  No matter how much I protested, it was useless, so I  became pro-choice.

I'm flying back tomorrow morning.  Hope you're all well.

Best,


James Harrington

15 mars 2010

From Cairo with love - 1

Good evening to all,

First of all, I am not dead. I’ve just gotten back from my client’s premises to my scruffy hotel. So, a few words on how things are here.

First of all, before you finish reading this email, click on this link & watch.

http://origin.theonion.com/video/tired-of-traffic-a-new-dot-report-urges-drivers-ho,14144/

Now, this might surprise you, but Egyptians are remarkably avant-garde about traffic management, and have implemented this system on a national scale, it seems. They also seem to draw the full extent of possibilities from their four-lane expressways. Which is to say lining up 8 cars in one row. Cars here have an average mileage of 700 000, produce the pollution of 7 european trucks, and kill 1.7 citizens per day.

Their transportation system is also cleverly arranged. We sissy Frenchmen have to lock down entire aisles for public transport, and set up expensive bus stops. In Cairo, they save precious minutes by not having any bus stops : when you get close to your destination, you throw yourself out of the moving vehicle, into moving traffic, and dodge&jump your way to safety. Or survival. And their interpersonal non-verbal communication are to be praised : jerking your fingers sideways together means “please, kind gentlemen in the two cars headed straight at me at 65 mph, I’ve put on a little weight lately and I would need you to move an inch or two further apart, lest I lose my hip.” All of that with one gesture. All we know how to do is flip the bird… So, 1.7 deadly casualties on average everyday is in fact a rather low figure, considering. Must be said that are excluded from those statistics, side-view mirror related mishaps : the nicked elbows, thrashed handbags, and plinked out children. With all of this, they have freed themselves from the plague we Parisians know every day : rush hour. There is no peak in their road infrastructure saturation: it’s packed full 24/7.

I’ve gotten a peek of the pyramids, off in the distance but, mostly, I’ve sweated, gotten lost in downtown Cairo, and breathed one entire sandbucket.

See y’all soon for new adventures,

James Harrington