Tuesday, January 31, 2017


And Trump casts some oil on such fire and carnage with anti-Muslim segregation!

January 30, 14:00 pm


There is no good side.
Cameroon is an ex-French-and-German colony that has a very strange history. The more humane way would be to cut the country in two. But that was done in Sudan and the south is now engulfed in a civil war within their own limits. And who can decide? What procedure to implement such a project?

All Black African countries inherit a millennium (if not two or even maybe three) long situation in which one dominant tribe (Muslim before the arrival of the Europeans) was exploiting the non-Muslims, the animists and later the Christians with slavery, servitude, and the common and regular selling of young men and women into slavery at first to northern Africa and then to the Europeans in Western Africa, mostly to Muslim countries in northern Africa, the Middle East and the Indian subcontinent on the Indian Ocean side and before Islam the various empires (Roman and Persian mainly but not only).

Colonization did not change the situation and it exploited the dominance of the dominant tribe most of the time to control the whole country. This inheritance is true in Mali, in Cameroon, in Central Africa. In Mauritania they went as far as expelling the non-Muslims after independence. ETC.

Remember Rwanda, not to speak of Congo.

The Mali Empire, before becoming Muslim saw the alternating Muslims and Animists do exactly the same thing to the other side when they were in power. The animists enslaved the Muslims and the Muslims enslaved the animists, till the Muslims had the final victory in the 13th century.

But once again no one in the world has the authority and the legitimacy to intervene though the French are often tempted to meddle with the situation: they pretend they have some kind of historical responsibility there since they were the colonial power for several centuries.


This is worst than tyranny. It's barberism and how could you call people you treat like animals terrorists? In this video, the agent with the long stick shouts in French: "I need the part with flesh." Warning: It's graphic. Appalling! These are soldiers treating innocent citizens of the Southern Cameroons like feed for the fodder. They hurt them badly and have fun doing it, with videos.

Monday, January 30, 2017


Europe is far from being one single color

Serban VC Enache, Fantastic-Heroic Novelist

Serban VC Enache, Romanian Novelist


Welcome to my tiny shady spot of a realm

I'm a 27 year old fiction writer interested in economics, history, metaphysics, science, technology, comedy, and politics. My medieval fantasy series Of Hate And Laughter has come at last. This universe of mine is one of infernal majesty.

Born on March 25, 1989, in Bucharest/Romania. Single parent child. I blame my mother for the long-ass name. Licensed in journalism. Creator of the Of Hate And Laughter series. This universe is one of infernal majesty; it's my heart and soul. If it matters to anyone, my sun sign is Aries, moon sign is Scorpio, mars sign is Gemini. I don't believe in astrology, by the way ^_^. My interests are: MMT (modern monetary theory), politics, history, literature, tv-shows, movies, games, music (from epic soundtracks to gothic metal), and I enjoy walking the green and concrete. I'm a deficit owl and social progressive. I'm also pretty good at drawing. My favorite author is Garth Marenghi (look him up). My favorite comedian is George Carlin. My favorite sitcom is NewsRadio. My favorite actor is Phil Hartman. 
Research Interests:

Dystopian Literature, Slavery, Science Fiction, Mythical-Heroic Sagas, Utopianism, Feudalism and Lordship, Fiction, Fantastic Literature, Blood Vengeance, and Political Treachery


The first anti-Brexit European


The book is well written and interesting. Charles the Great was the first Christian Emperor after the Roman Empire. He unified western Europe under his own rule by the genius of his military campaigns. He was also able to protect western Europe against the Islamic rulers that had taken over Spain and Portugal. His Grandfather Charles Martel had stopped them in Tours or Poitiers in 732. Charles the Great consolidated the Pyrenean border by establishing the march of Spain along the South side of the Pyrenees.

But he also unified Western Europe by imposing Latin as the only administrative and judicial language. He also built an educational system that trained the cadres and engineers of the empire. To do that he used the Church on which he leant heavily. He summoned Alcuin of York to come to Aachen and establish the first school system in Western Europe after the Roman Empire. He also had a whole body of missi dominici at his disposal to go all other the empire to inspect, manage and promote the numerous reforms brought about by Charles the Great, hence by himself.

At the same time, he collected in Aachen, in the local languages various popular songs and stories. Latin was the administrative language but Charles the Great respected the vernacular languages. He also encouraged traditional arts and the famous Song of Roland was the archetype and the model of medieval epic “chansons de geste,” meaning song that told the exploits of military heroes? Note the English have Anglo-Saxon songs of the same type, like Boewulf, though less martial, more supernatural.

Of course Charles the Great unified the empire with trade and commerce but to do that he had to unify it first at the religious level. His originality is that he started the most important religious reform that was to bring feudalism in Europe. The reform was in building the new churches that started being built in stone with vaults and that new style was to become the Romanesque style. The christening fonts were also modified to abandon christening by full immersion and replace it by the modern practice: a few drops on the babies scalp. The old christening pools that were man-deep were filled to be replaced by a simple font. There is still one standing, though filled in Le Puy en Velay, behind the cathedral. It is also in this period the evolution of the church started with a clarification of the various rites and the beginning of a long reflection on celibate priests. He encouraged monasteries and monasteries controlled important areas of land.

But the most important reform is the strict rules about Sunday: no work on Sunday. If you add to this the three religious week long festivities or celebrations of Nativity, Passion and Assumption, you come to something like 75 days when working was absolutely banned every year. To impose that reform the ownership of the land was to be changed to have the control of it, the peasants and other agricultural workers changed statuses and serfdom was introduced unifying statuses that ran from pure slavery to independent small farmers who owned their land and all types of sharecroppers in-between. This enabled, starting in the 9th and 10th centuries the installation of feudalism founded on the first green revolution with one invention, the horse’s collar, and many other techniques recuperated by the Benedictines from the Roman libraries they were conserving.

And still more had to come, starting in the 11th century, to replace human work they recuperated and multiplied a Roman invention that had hardly been used in slavery times: the water mill. This brought the proto-industrial revolution of the 11th century.

The religious reform introduced under Charles the Great was far-reaching and extremely important. The book only gives the premises of this evolution. It is true the scattering of the empire after Charles the Great’s death will bring a lot of wars and at the end of the 10th century a vast movement, the Peace of God, was introduced and preached and animated by the church to impose peace in Christian land, which boosted trade and commerce all over Europe. That too is a consequence not of Charles the Great management of the empire but of the ridiculous rule to share any kingdom or territory equally or nearly among the various sons of a king or a man. It will take some time before western European kingdoms learned how to transmit a kingdom to one person only.


Sunday, January 29, 2017


A Crow in the Furrow of Sorrow


Morning crow, sorrow!
Corbeau du matin, chagrin!

A small short story that tells one day in the life of three black brother crows or maybe ravens or maybe blackbird, who knows, crows they are called but they have other names that are funny in a way? Magnus, Korvern and Septimius. And what’s more for us they go Cra! Cra! Cra! But in fact they seem to be able to communicate and to speak and think and have ideas about everything in the world, about humans and about dogs, and some other things of the sort.

Strangely enough they have their own theory about the world and how it does not go, even about its economy as if they had been fervent students in some university. Definitely these three black crow remind me of Shakespeare and his three weird sisters, though here we have three weird brothers. And then their hatred for the local stray cat brings to my mind an old film, Fritz the Cat, a long tailed cat who had great problems with black crows in another city that may have been New York. So they become like some plotters trainspotting in the air, some underground homeless and forlorn scavengers in our society living on rejects, trash and garbage?

At times they find a juicy dead body they can eat as if it were Christmas or Thanksgiving delicatessen or Easter Passover goodies or Ramadan evening nourishment. I suppose they satisfy their visionary hunger with the two globes of the eyes of the corpse, and yet they do not go further to some other parts that are juicy and rich in a body, alive or not, like the liver, the pancreas, if they can get to them, though they will never be able to break the shell of the egg of the brain, the cranium, the skull.

It is true they don’t need to eat human brain to be clever because they are naturally, and more than humans, because they know they have to respect nature, to clean it up of its garbage, though they could be thousands and they would not be able to come to the end of human trash, both the trash they drop everywhere or the trash they pull around them in the shape of dogs or cats, and even a third type which is humans themselves who are the governing trashy kings of this planet they don’t even deserve.

It is somewhat funny and somewhat strange, bizarre, surprising, and maybe too short since they sleep at night, well, so you say man, because birds always sleep with one eye tight open and the other wide shut since cats are nocturnal animals too, not to speak of bats and other night time predators. But birds have a very great sense of hierarchy; I was watching just this afternoon and yesterday the birds who come to my yard to take advantage of the bird-feeders Lucretia garnishes with all kinds of goodies. There is a band of blackbirds, males and females, five or six, maybe more and among them one macho male. When the black birds are there all the other little birds of half a dozen types have to literally fight to get to the food. The black birds are a perfect band of SS officers keeping their spoils of war. And this afternoon only the macho male was there and no one else could get close to the grains, seeds, peanuts, or whatever. He was pacing the yard and the snow with the authority of a Trump signing executive orders banning everyone from his own little White House lawn and rose garden.

Who said nature was just, peaceful, equalitarian, gentle, sweet? Ah! Ah! It is some kind of an inferno and humans are nearly just slightly more civilized than that, well maybe, perhaps, for sure but not quite sure.

So be careful the Men In Black are coming and you better be ready to be extra-terrestrialized if you don’t like the color. I know one President and one Prime Minister who have to be extra-terrestrialized as an urgent emergency and sent to intensive care in some NHS hospital (though that one could come to France and as a European citizen she could get some free treatment in some luxurious Paris hospital like La Salpetriere built by Louis XIV), or some community hospital for the homeless in New York (for the other member of the pair that should be married urgently too before being moved to these medical reclusive retreats). But I will not tell names. I am not a rat, a cat maybe, a crow why not, but Serban made me smile with his birdlike human realism, and there sure are a lot of human beings in the street or in the bureaucratic offices we have forgotten to bury last time the hearse went by down in the street.


Friday, January 27, 2017


Le Théâtre avant tout, même et surtout musical



Je suis monté sur un praticable devant un public en professionnel dès le début des années 70 pour l’association France-URSS et présenter une lecture de poèmes de Maïakovski dans l’exposition dédié à ce poète russe au Musée des Beaux Arts de Bordeaux. Je n’ai pas arrêté depuis et les scènes se sont succédées, les micros radios à partir de 1979, et tous les genres y sont passés. J’ai écrit pour le théâtre (Centre Dramatique National de Béthune et Théâtre Louis Richard de Roubaix) et j’ai bien sûr écrit et produit des heures et des heures de poésie, théâtre et autres formes littéraires pour la radio, pour des radios, Radio Quinquin, Radio Canal-Sambre, Radio Craponne, RCF et quelques autres encore, sans parler du travail de critique de spectacles vivants, de cinéma ou de littérature.

J’ai assisté à des centaines de pièces, d’opéras, de ballets, de festivals, de concerts et les ai couverts pour les radios mais aussi pour Liberté, quotidien de Lille, L’Éveil de la Haute-Loire du Puy en Velay, et de nombreuses publications universitaires ou volumes consacrés à Shakespeare et d’autres. Ma collaboration avec Maurice Abiteboul et sa revue Théâtres du Monde remonte à la fin du siècle dernier. Je dois dire que la liberté de style et de ton n’est pas toujours facile à conquérir.

La révolution informatique, la quatrième révolution industrielle comme certains veulent la nommer, ou encore la révolution de l’automation ou de la robotique ou de l’intelligence artificielle, selon les écoles des uns et des autres, rend aujourd’hui la pratique du théâtre en tant que spectateur, chercheur ou même reporter plus flexible puisqu’on a alors le « spectacle dans un fauteuil » si cher à Alfred de Musset.

On a ainsi le monde entier au bout de sa télécommande ou de son lecteur DVD du moins si les spectacles sont disponibles dans ce format. Et le dépaysement disparaît de nos cerveaux puisqu’on se fait de plus en plus à la diversité d’un monde qui est des plus infinis. On peut ainsi passer de Londres à New York, de Shanghai à Moscou, du Cap à Toronto, et bien d’autres endroits encore qui nous deviennent ainsi familiers.

Dans ce qui suit les trois premières parties portent sur le théâtre parisien, principalement des auteurs vivants ou du moins contemporains, puis une escapade dans la revue Théâtre du Monde d’Avignon et enfin une liste à peu près exhaustive de mes écrits qu’on dira de recherche, universitaire ou non, sur le théâtre. Beaucoup d’autres choses existent sous forme d’inédits que le monde d’aujourd’hui nous permet plus facilement de publier, distribuer et diffuser. Mes pièces de théâtre sont hélas dans des formats papiers aujourd’hui totalement hors de circulation et qu’il me faudrait scanner et re-publier.

Un projet comme un autre : 36 Sans épouvante et sans souliers, Verte Verte la Rainette, César et Constantin, Jean Meunier et tout le répertoire radio pour la plus grande partie inédit, sans parler de l’anglais (quatre pièces jouer au Festival de Bradford, 1994).

En ce moment je suis sur les 21 opéras, et œuvres vocales que je classe dans ce genre, de Benjamin Britten pour y étudier la figure de l’étranger. Un travail énorme dont les notes rédigées aujourd’hui comptent 77 624 mots. Je viens juste de terminer ce travail exploratoire. Il ne reste plus qu’à écrire un article de 10 000 mots. Une bagatelle en quelque sorte.

Je vous donne donc ici des écrits sur le théâtre relativement récents dont la plupart sont des critiques en général publiées sur Amazon.fr quand en français et tous les Amazon quand en anglais. Je dois dire que j’écris infiniment plus en anglais qu’en français.



You will dream of going back to the primeval sea


I have just spent two days on this book. I have watched the pictures and read the captions, watched the videos, some of them and enjoyed the surprising communion and unison with nature, whales and many other aquatic and terrestrial animals.

I checked some info and read extensively but I cannot find what would make me dream or fear anything. I am a researcher in the field of the emergence of the Homo genus and Homo Sapiens in Africa with the development of language inherited from previous Hominins (Homo Genus) and even Hominids (the genus before: I have to specify this because there is quite some confusion even on Wikipedia about the two genera. And I did not find in the book the magic I could have enjoyed as a dream or as an escape from reality. When one has spent many years studying this emergence and then the migration s out of the nest(s) based on all that is coming up fast from anthropology, archaeology and DNA studies, one is surprised by some of the hypotheses.

I do not follow references to a blue angel, and to any angel anyway which is a religious reference particularly Christian and maybe Islamic, why not the Blue Fairy of Pinocchio or Stephen Spielberg and his AI film; to mer people as being real; to Jesus to prove I do not know what about the emergence of Hominins (the Homo genus) as opposed to Hominids (the genus before) when he is attributed the fact that he would have spoken of himself as the Son of Man, which in any Semitic language, Aramaic for example, is the son of “Adam” since “Adam” is “man” derived from “adamah” meaning the “earth” in Hebrew for example, knowing that Jesus spoke Hebrew and Aramaic and probably some Latin and some Greek. Those are plain circumstantial facts of his time.

But the reference or mixing of Jesus in these hypotheses implies Jesus had some divine dimension or what in contact with some divine communion to remember in a way or another what happened several hundred thousand years before if not even more. To invoke any divine dimension in these questions of the origin of Homo Sapiens is simply not scientific. One cannot explain a mystery with another mystery, and today the question is no longer such a big mystery. I must also say that any quotation from the Bible, be it Isaiah or the Evangelists has no scientific value for me, but maybe I am obtuse enough to negate the existence of any divinity as soon as I speak of the natural world and his evolution.

Ray Jackendoff (A Generative Theory of Tonal Music, MIT Press, 1996) due to his failure at inventing or discovering any kind of a generative syntax of music, admitted that he could not in any way see a connection between music and language. I am a linguist myself, working a lot in the phylogeny of language. The monkeys whose language has been scrutinized by many people possess about three or four vowels and three of four consonants. In human language that could produce two hundred words on the pattern CVC or VCV. These monkeys have about 8 to 12 calls. They do not rotate vowels or consonants. Their articulatory possibilities are limited physiologically and even so they do not have the combinatory power of a human language. Dentals for one example are not possible due to the structure of their palate, tongue and teeth.

But singing has been thought of by many, linguists or not, Steven Mithen for one (The Singing Neanderthals: The Origins of Music, Language, Mind and Body, 2005, with a title that embraces too much), to explain tone languages, intonation, and many other musical elements in language(s) but no one can say that a child in our world that has received no music or singing lessons has learned an opera aria by himself or herself and developed his or her voice by himself or herself. First how did he or she learned the words? How many times have they heard the song, etc.? Last April in Napoli, Italy, in the taxi taking me and three colleagues from downtown to the airport (45 minutes) a local radio was on and we heard O Sole Mio twice and in very long local popular versions. For a child being highly mimetic (among other reasons because of his or her mirror neurons) listening to it once it could have been enough for him or her to arrive at the airport singing the song if he or she had had a perfect ear (about one child out of ten has such perfect ear up to the age of five or six and then it has to be cultivated in a way or another to be kept or developed.

But music is everywhere in our societies. So what? So what! If my figure of one out of ten is correct that represents one or two hundred million children in the world, in a world that is haunted and fully inhabited with music all the time. So one, two or three that can learn an opera aria, or a popular song is nothing, and certainly proves nothing except that if we educated all talents very early in life we would not have all the millions of Mozart’s who are lost before ever being detected. But we know all that and we also know that people who speak – and have learned early – a tonal language like Chinese, Japanese or Korean will have a higher level of perfect hearing and music or singing capabilities.

That is just to say the book is rich and debatable and I think the author would not pretend otherwise. I hope you will give it a try and you may find some really fascinating passages, videos or pictures and you should be incited to start swimming, but not in a swimming pool because of the chlorine and try to sing under your shower and in your bath. Some can’t sing. Then they whistle, or they hum, or they use their fingers or sticks to beat a rhythm of some kind. Hominins, and why not Hominids, are “musical” beings, provided we understand “musical” not necessarily with a perfect ear, singing and playing two or three instruments. I have seen in Africa quite a few people who can dance to a simple beating rhythm, often polyrhythmic tempos that they produce themselves with two sticks or their feet and hands. Maybe after all Madelon Mottet has it right in her mind. And I must say I like her predisposed name since her first name is a very popular song in France

Quand Madelon vient nous servir à boire
Sous la tonnelle on frôle son jupon
Et chacun lui raconte une histoire
Une histoire à sa façon
La Madelon pour nous n'est pas sévère
Quand on lui prend la taille ou le menton
Elle rit, c'est tout le mal qu'elle sait faire
Madelon, Madelon, Madelon ! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5aqUNjG8PN0)

And everyone knows what a “motet” is.


Thursday, January 26, 2017


Jacques Coulardeau, Ivan Eve, Serban VC Enache, The world at the tip of our fingers

[Kindle Edition] Dr Jacques COULARDEAU & Ivan EVE (Authors)

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU & Ivan EVE
Illustrations Annunzio COULARDEAU

Jacques COULARDEAU (Auteur), Ivan EVE (Auteur), 
Annunzio COULARDEAU (Illustrations) 

The US Supreme Court,
A Universal Lesson in Constitutional Right
Jacques Coulardeau & Ivan Eve



& Ivan Eve

Wednesday, January 25, 2017


Two for the price of one


Don’t believe the author. It is not a funny book, even if it is at times hilarious. But it sure is a pleasant and attractive depicting of a millennial that is not able to find any footing in his society.

But think how sad his life is, how low his lot is, how miserable his self-pity sounds, etc. He is fat and 32, which means nothing is not going to improve. It is strange because since he is living under the kitchen table it has to be – due to his middle age chubbiness – a very big kitchen table or he is telling us some tall tale. Frogs from a certain far away county definitely spring high and leap far. And what’s more he does not have a car. He has a bicycle but one tire is flat and he uses the girly bicycle of his mother. Speaking of his mother, he does not seem to have one any more since she died one day in her bathtub. It is dangerous to go to sleep in one’s bathtub, at least when there is water in it.

He sure has a father who is a rogue and a beast. He forces him to sleep under the kitchen table and to go to church with him every Sunday. What’s more he spanks him with a paddle when necessary from his – the father’s – point of view. And he enjoys spilling anything he has under his hand or in his fingers onto the head of his son when he is still asleep under the table: honey or maple syrup as if he were a pancake, milk as if he were a bowl of cereals and anything else. Ketchup, why not, to turn the poor Sebastian into a bloody Dracula.

Speaking of Sebastian, he of course has the proper name of this saint who was the outcast in his Roman Legion unit because he was a Catholic and he refused to service his officer or some of the men who all found him juicy and delicious. He will end up pierced by half a dozen arrows and left to bleed and die in the sunshine. That’s the lot of this poor modern times Sebastian; remember you all have your future written in your name.

And that’s not all. He is totally demotivated in his life, working life I mean, though he has an MA probably in some fancy subject and he tries to blind us completely about his incompetence with some powerful catchphrases like Jesus who preached unconditional love “was killed by those he tried to love.” And his great modern mind enables him to set Harry Potter at the same level as Jesus Christ, both make miracles. Can you imagine HP equals JC? HP, an office printer, compared to JC, the Savior of these life and world?

He manages to get fired from his job in some underpaying miserably rich catering fast food service that carries the divine name of Kangaroo, as if it were some simple friendly animal serving us fresh and wild meat and the boss is the only one who has the Australian touch because he uses the whiplash of the famous Kangaroo series every day, every minute even, with his enslaved employees. Then our Sebastian is under pressure from his girlfriend and his father to make something with himself and get a job. He tries everything and particularly sales and ends up trying to sell cell – stop stammering – phones in a derelict dilapidated neighborhood of his urban area.

He fails totally and finally begs his old boss to take him back again on his Kangaroo. And that is the final mistake that can be committed, but not by Sabastian who already has many arrows in his quiver, arrows he has recuperated one after the other as they were shot at his vast body and as they pierced his triple layer of fat. The mistake was his boss’s because Sabastian managed to find his way, his light, his bliss in some moment of ecstatic enjoyment of his bath and his phantasmagoric “fly me to the moon” excitement.

He found his way in the concept of union, not as unity, but as trade-union and he decides to unionized his co-worker and start a campaign for a decent minimum wage, normal benefits and acceptable working conditions and schedules. But a union all by itself is an easy waste of time. So he gets a Facebook page and a Twitter account and with the Internet he manages to create a lot of buzz in the airs and in the wings of the restaurant and to gather a lot of people in support of their initiative that takes off in no time and with social networks bosses are dead. It is well known. We all know how effective they can be since Trump was elected with them and by them. It is amazing how millennials can be experts at using these means and yet they are so dissatisfied and disorganized and demotivated, though they are NOT disciplined at all, in everything personal or professional.

Even Sabastian’s sex life was floating half way to the bottom of the river and sinking? Rock bottom in no time at all and he is simply let go by his girlfriend, dropped, dumped actually by her and it takes him some time to understand that love is not carnal fleshy meaty intercourse, between the amuse-gueules and the dessert as inter-course means in his mind, what comes between two courses on a menu. But he gets back to life when he has vomited his hangover in his bath and is saved by his father who finally tells him he loves him and he will never kick him out of the house, just under the table, you dog. Love is so difficult after all that only a few can have that pleasure that does not leak nor slobber nor drool from the mouth though it may spill some red blood on the floor when the confrontation with the boss becomes too intense.

And that’s how this poor Sebastian finds his epiphany in social action. He has finally been able to “sell me this pen” (Ah! The dirty wolf of Wall street) to some public and he sold it a hefty price to his boss. His real job is a union. Some may find it a little bit passé, déjà-vu, ignis fatuus in a world of ever changing circumstances. But some basics are at times interesting even if they are funny. And with Trump and his cabinet of bi/millionaires we might need a lot more of these unions even if right now they support Trump, as if a blizzard could bring some beautiful roses to the wedding of water with fire.



Robert Young has just published his first novel, One of the Guys. An amazing book. He tackles two American institutions and shows that they both are Satan incarnate. The first one is pornography. It has its adult bookstores, with cubicles and glory holes. It has its prostitution circuits and routes, where a woman, or a man, is nothing but either a piece of meat, or a cannibalistic customer.

The tone of the author is there harsh, brutal, ruthless, and he shows how the money of the customers creates the customized goods those customers want and consume. Our sexual consumer's society reduces myriads of women and men, boys and girls to slavery, a degrading, alienating and neurotic slavery. A slavery of the body and of the mind to the most twisted phantasms of money-loaded customers, the form of the prostitution depending only on the amount of money the customer has and on the amount of money the prostitute of hustler can ambition to get.

The second institution is essentially the US Navy, but also the US Armed Forces. There the book becomes a satire and is full of humor and irony, even if the subject is serious. He shows how these Armed Forces are divided in hostile and jealous corps. He shows how these Armed Forces are unfit for battle. He shows how these Armed Forces are totally based on alienating the free will of the soldiers or sailors in order for the officers to dominate them and manipulate them into doing what they are expected to do and do not need to understand.

To boost up the morale of the troops, those officers use methods that are un-human, and that represent some kind of cattle herding policy, reducing soldiers and sailors to nothing but animals that are sent to the slaughterhouse of a battle, filled with hatred, alcohol, cheap sex and a little bit of fake religion. What's more he shows how the whole network of US military bases in the world are nothing but a cobweb where young girls and boys are trapped by the dollar spiders for the only benefit of the soldiers, the sailors, and their officers.

It is by providing these with that big perambulating brothel that US Armed Forces are able to perform their supposedly patriotic and humanistic duties. The hero is the constant proof of that absurdity of a system that creates evil in the name of good, though that good is nothing but the interests of a few powerful people who pull the strings, be they politicians or anyone who has some interest in providing those Armed Forces with goods, including the rotten dictators here and there who accept a village to be destroyed by a lost shell in maneuvers, provided a fair number of millions of dollars can fatten their bank accounts here and there in some paradise that is not lost at all, even if it is prospering on the hell in which millions of people are forced to live.

So, in front of such a powerful book, we can forget about the fact that Miles, the hero, has officially died in a fire at the beginning of the book and reappears - resuscitates - at the end of the book, with no question asked.


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