Advent Wreath Meditations

Lesson No. 2: the aesthetics of terrorism or terrorism aesthetics.

My young flock, I salute you.

We'll start at the beginning of your training terrorists.
You are not free to ignore (or if you did not know you are my strong faith to complain, very naive and you deserve to finish eaten by hungry bums under a bridge in glaucous Haute-Marne) that we live in a society of the spectacle as one might say, where only the image you send yourself a real impact. This rule is also questionable whether it is also valid in the small circle that you've joined, that of terrorism.
The hoods of ETA are not there to hide their vile facies child murderers but to give them a genre. Bin Laden's beard is not a visual mark of piety as he would like to believe the onlookers, but a reminder of the infamous bogeyman, the sole purpose to shake what remains of child's soul.

Once these bases copies asked, you find your own style terrorist. In the way of the teenager who is looking for the next gothistes, tecktonik then he'll have to experiment, fail, start over again, until your mere sight makes your shudder menopausal old neighbor and Orion, her poodle.

For the more experienced of you, you can also become a genius of evil by simply grilling the retina of your life through your appearance. But beware, I repeat but this is reserved for a select few who must be immunized against themselves, if you surprised when your reflection in a mirror you're still to wonder why nature has punished this way, especially not trying no experience.
And if like me you have fear of anything or anyone that you have found your quickdraw big nasty flesh in a sublime green dress leopard print, you can even broadcast your image on the Internet, accompanied by this beloved comic sans ms which certainly cause blindness among the enemy.
Here you must click on the image, but does especially if you do not feel ready or you're not equipped with cardboard glasses purchased at your newsagent to watch the eclipse.

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Introduction: "When the world is persecuting you, you owe the world to persecute" *

My little reader

If you too are contrefous new Nike Pegasus friend's ketch, when you see it you remember your long winter evenings spent watching, amorphous, the dilemma between Carrie Bradshaw a Louis Vuitton bag and another bag Prada, this message is for you.

Because while the other there, swoons over her new acquisition, my vie quant à elle ressemble toujours à un monticule de fiente de yack (mais surmonté d’une très belle fleur d’ibiscus quand même, parce malgré les déjections je sais rester radieuse).

Passons donc ma beauté étourdissante et venons-en au caca. Nous sommes donc le 9 juillet, et lorsque les autres étudiants se gaussent de passer leur été à bosser comme des chiens sous-payés dans des stations balnéaires minables, moi je me plains du fait que mon année scolaire ne soit toujours pas achevée. Tout ça à cause d’un misérable petit parasite qui a décidé de faire de mon existence un enfer en me forçant à lui rendre un dossier parfaitement tasteless but dense by July 13. Note that for the first time in my life I wished the death of a man.

Also, I spend my days being an unconditional patience, but conditioned by a miserable salary, with a little brat who deserves a kick in the ass and file in your bedroom. And faster than that. And in silence please.
My city has also been emptied of almost all things that were that life was worth living, my alcoholism and condoned by their notorious involvement. My free time is now devoted to research a library that would make me their humble little apprentice for a shockingly low pay, but that would make my day a sweet dream. Strangely they send me every ball. The crisis it seems. Add
over this episode of the little bastard, call the PS (well, as the Socialist Party) for the occasion, who dared me refourguer ** a book that causes a type that is unnecessary studies ( hey, a literature degree, it reminds me of someone ...), which suddenly makes a whole bunch of small gigs horrible, and whose life resembles a mound of dung yak. Except that he goes there in Alaska. I never would go to Alaska. And I wonder if this advice was not reading any account is a way to destroy me in me face my probable future. The upside is that I associate with people who have the deserves to be insightful. And as if the author, I show all (hey, it looks good party ...) I could always switch to the literature.

You tell me, so good, so what? We drink of you whining of Auntie Souen Sun, but we in history?
But that is not in vain my young flock. Because I know I'm not the only one to be persecuted, to be the target of a probably conspiracy orchestrated by the Chinese to have a newspaper that looks like an endless muddy swamps and flat, to get up every morning telling me "world of shit" (to plagiarize person) and you also you are concerned. So this is where the Poniclub intervenes.
When your desire for revenge becomes too intense, if your hatred of your fellow citizens radiates every cell of your little body, when your anger is destroying your only source of energy, when finally you say that bin Laden had perhaps reason to know that we're here for you.
But we are aware of the problem. Bin Laden had the means, claims, men of money and stuff. You, you live below the poverty line. Yet it is still time to strike. So I am pleased to announce the beginning of the month low cost of terrorism, during which we will give you all our tips and tricks to become public enemy No. 1, and not a penny for it.

First lesson: hostage-taking:



* The Lion King in
** Iain Levison, Tribulations of a precarious for those interested and who are not deterred by the titles easily and ugly. It's funny in real life as book eh.

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Ha! It beckons me that's not it!

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Kim Jong-Il in the seminar

Dear readers, dear world, my universe,

First of all let us not to apologize for our prolonged silence, but you imagine that we owe you nothing. The Poniclub was held in North Korea to live with love and fresh water, sex, drugs and rock'n'roll, and indeed it did not give a damn as to relate his adventures you extract a smile after a long day of hard work and alienating. So let

incivility to come to the presentation of the report which will close the month dedicated to patriotism and true to its celebration. For Kim Jong-Il has Poniclub celebrate the presence of his side in ways far more so than a banner "Welcome" and a yogurt cake. It is clear that a political system worthy of the name creates the festivities proportional to the size of its leader.

Greeted with fanfare by a grand concert of a song and a meeting with fabulous Puerto Rican artists (which we did donating clothes because we are sensitive to the issue of poverty), we were then elevated to living legends and honorary citizens of Pyongyang with a parade of prostitutes and Pokemon.

We leave you so enjoy our fun with a story of great quality (Kimy taking photos, that's why we see it above), and we look forward to seeing you in few days to start a new topic that will brighten your summer.

Love you.
Love on Kim. Love on the
Poniclub.

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