"Je sens contre la bêtise de mon époque des flots de haine qui m'étouffent, il me monte de la merde à la bouche, comme dans les hernies étranglées. Mais je veux la garder, la figer, la durcir. J'en veux faire une pâte dont je barbouillerai le XIXème siècle, comme on dore de bougée de vache les pagodes indiennes."
How i love these rare moments when, at the turn of a page, we fall on a writing of which we feel that we always carried it in itself, and which blinding clarity creates a happiness which i shall compare maybe to the one that i imagine at the woman's who gives birth.
Last match today in Lorient, in French football championship. Lorient receives Paris Saint-Germain. It's a match with a serious stake. Lorient must win to stay in 1st league ans PSG must win to keep a little hope to win the championship.
As a result : About 350 members of the riot police are deployed in the streets, in addition to the usual police forces... Sport is beautiful...
But maybe i've explain it badly. Lorient had to win to be sure to stay in 1st league. So, losing the match against PSG, it was depending about the others results, particularly about Valenciennes-Caen. Caen lose, so he goes in 2nd league and Lorient stay in 1st league, for only one single point. As we can say : "That was close enough..."
FCL coach Christian Gourcuff said after this match : "The most important, obviously, is to have snatch our maintain. Nevertheless, I am not radiant." Oh really, Sir...?