LOVE IS A REAL ADORABLE CURSE
AN UNTELLABLE STORY
A dramatic Confession
THE NINETEEN STATIONS OF SARAPHIC LOVE
James Crittle, a famous pilot of the French Air Force, later turned university professor, on February 18, 2015, was found dead in full uniform Rue Montmartre in Paris. He had used some cyanide to put an end to his life. The French Air Force took over his funeral in Bordeaux, but Joseph and Magdalena Seth, two young people who had been his friends up to three years before when James Crittle stepped out of their life without any explanation, hearing the news on the radio decided to claim his body since he had no known direct relatives.
They are entrusted then with an important envelope addressed to them and that contains the manuscript of this “Untellable Story” and my name and contact. I had been James Crittle’s friend some fifty years earlier when I was going to the university and met him then. He had obviously kept track of me over these years.
I here try to give you his confession, since he calls it a confession, about his first twenty years in this life and I just try to put, as far as I can, this text into perspective with an introduction. Joseph and Magdalena Seth added a short conclusion. Most of the pictures and illustrations were in the initial envelope. We decided to use them, with some prudence though because some of the people on these pictures are totally unknown to us and they were not identified.
We also retained some documents from East Germany and the USA and his military papers, considering they had nothing to do with this “Untellable Story.”
Jacques COULARDEAU
Olliergues, France
March 14, 2015
Format : Format Kindle
Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 201 pages
Utilisation simultanée de l'appareil : Illimité
Editeur : Editions La Dondaine; Édition : 1 (13 mars 2015)
Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
Langue : Anglais
ASIN: B00UP4CX88
$ 8.51 - EUR 7,84
Percutio & The Nineteen Stations of Saraphic Love
Abstract:
Parcutio It features a bewildering array of internationally-based contributors, ranging from 'conventional' poets through to off-the-wall experimentalists. For example, Jacques Coulardeau who, 'has contributed to Percutio almost since its inception. He is a very interesting outsider on the French 'scene'. He researches what he wants to, but has a strong interest in US politics and European music'. I - Rapatahana - can only wonder as regards the existential je ne sais quoi of an outsider in outsider France, home of Camus, who lent this title, of course, to Colin Wilson...such are the interesting personages found in this publication.
« James Crittle, a famous pilot of the French Air Force, later turned university professor, on February 18, 2015, was found dead in full uniform Rue Montmartre in Paris. He had used some cyanide to put an end to his life. The French Air Force took over his funeral in Bordeaux, but Joseph and Magdalena Seth, two young people who had been his friends up to three years before when James Crittle stepped out of their life without any explanation, hearing the news on the radio decided to claim his body since he had no known direct relatives.
They are entrusted then with an important envelope addressed to them and that contains the manuscript of this “Untellable Story” and my name and contact. I had been James Crittle’s friend some fifty years earlier when I was going to the university and met him then. He had obviously kept track of me over these years. . . »
Research Interests:
# posted by Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU @ 1:21 PM
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MAI 1968 et l’erreur de ROLAND BARTHES : Si « LA LANGUE EST FASCISTE » apprenez à la dominer et faites-en votre esclave !
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MAY 1968 and Roland Barthes’s mistake: If « LANGUAGE IS FASCIST » just learn how to dominate it and make it your slave!
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La langue a permis au genre humain et au cœur de celui-ci à Homo Sapiens de conquérir le monde, d’inventer la science, la religion, la philosophie, et avant tout la communication sans laquelle il n’y aurait pas d’espèce humaine, d’humanité, d’humanisme ou simplement de civilisation(s) humaine(s).
Rendons à la langue son honneur et sa force, et surtout n’oublions pas que la force de la langue est dans la pensée qui l’habite et l’utilise pour inventer l’avenir.
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Language enabled the human genus and in the heart of it Homo Sapiens to conquer the world, to invent science, religion, philosophy, and above all communication without which there would be no human species, no humanity, no humanism or simply no human civilization(s).
Let’s give back to language its honor and its force, and first of all let’s not forget that the power of language is in the thought that inhabits it and uses it to invent the future.
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LA GRAMMAIRE DYNAMIQUE DE L’ANGLAIS
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU
On peut apprendre une langue de bien des façons, reste à savoir laquelle on veut employer et quel objectif on vise.
Si vous visez à vous faire comprendre dans une « conversation » ordinaire dans la rue ou au pub vous pouvez y arriver sans grand effort de correction : vous arriverez toujours à vous faire comprendre et à ne mourir ni de faim ni de soif.
Si vous visez à lire The Guardian ou écrire dans ses colonnes de débat qui sont gratuites, mieux vaut faire un petit effort supplémentaire et employer une langue qui soit beaucoup plus grammaticale.
Si vous visez à communiquer dans une conférence internationale et à tenir un stand dans la salle des affiches et répondre à toutes les questions possibles et imaginables sur votre sujet de prédilection et de recherche qui peut être le baseball ou les formes les plus spectaculaires et mortifères du cancer mieux vaut alors vraiment travailler votre grammaire car une faute peut mener au contre-sens du siècle.
Je vous propose dans ce travail une grammaire qui vous donne les moyens de dominer les subtilités de la langue dans ses utilisations les plus avancées.
LA GRAMMAIRE DYNAMIQUE DE L’ANGLAIS
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU
Pour étudiants ou enseignants d’anglais francophones
Cette grammaire de 301 pages et de 153 mille 153 mots (dixit Word) fut commandée par un éditeur pour le public des étudiants préparant le CAPES ou l’Agrégation, ainsi que les professeurs du secondaire. Chaque chapitre a une unité presque totale au niveau de ses références et citations. Toute la grammaire est fondée uniquement sur des exemples tirés d’œuvres littéraires récentes.
C’est un corpus de citations sur un point ou un chapitre de grammaire, toutes issues d’un même auteur qui permet d’éviter l’éclectisme des citations et qui donc permet d’arriver à une vision plus synthétique.
L’ensemble de cette grammaire a été mis en ligne sur le site de l’Université de Paris 1 Panthéon Sorbonne, à disposition gratuite pour les étudiants en 2007 (et doit toujours y être) après avoir été mis à disposition informatique gratuite des étudiants de l’IUP Tourisme de l’Université de Perpignan à Mende (Lozère) en 2002-2003.
J’ai mis les cinq parties en ligne sur www.academia.edu il y a déjà quelques années. Je propose ici les cinq liens des cinq parties sur ce site pour faciliter la navigation.
1ère partie : Le syntagme nominal
2ème partie : Le syntagme verbal
3ème partie : L’énoncé
4ème partie : Les utilitaires
5ème partie : Introduction aux exercices (tous corrigés)
Je vous prie instamment d’utiliser sans modération ces 301 pages. Si vous remarquez des erreurs – et je suis sûr qu’il y en a – veuillez avoir la gentillesse de me les signaler. Je mettrai à jour régulièrement.
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU
ADDENDUM : REFERENCES
Africa, Frank, in Mumia, Abu-Jamal, 1995
Alex, T.S., Mind Mine, recueil de poésies autoédité, San Antonio, Texas, 1999
Bellow, Saul, Ravelstein, Viking, New York, 2000
BizRate.com®, Online Research Panel, Official Sweepstakes Rules, The Internet, Los Angeles, 2000
Borland, Hal, When the Legends Die, Bantam, New York, 1984
Bunyan, John, The Pilgrim’s Progress, Whitaker House, New York, 1981
Burghardt DuBois, W.E., The Souls of Black Folks, Fawcette Publications, Greenwich, Connecticut, 1961
Chapman, Robert L., PhD, American Slang, Harper and Row, New York, 1987
Conrad, Earl, The Premier, Lancer Books, New York, 1963
Dickens, Charles, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, OUP, Oxford, 1956
Drapeau, Louis L., The Future of Risk Management : Are You Reading the Signs of the Times ?, The Internet, 2000
Ellis, Bret Easton, American Psycho, Picador, Londres, 1991
Ellison, Ralph, Juneteenth, Vintage International, New York, 1999
Garland, Alex, The Beach, Penguin Books, Londres, 1996
Goddard, Robert, Set in Stone, Bantam, Londres, 1999
Harris, Robert, Archangel, Jove Books, New York, 1999
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, The Scarlet Letter, Washington Square Press, New York, 1970
Hodge, John, The Beach A Screenplay, Faber & Faber, London, 2000
Huebner, Andrew, American by Blood, Anchor, Londres, 2000
Hull, Raymond, « Introduction », in Peter, Dr Laurence J., 1970
Joyce, James, Ulysses, Penguin, Londres, 1975
Marlowe, Christopher, Doctor Faustus, Manchester University Press, Manchester, 1993
Mumia, Abu-Jamal, Live from Death Row, Avon Books, New York, 1995
Murdoch, Iris, Bruno’s Dream, Dell Publishing Company, New York, 1970
Murdoch, Iris, The Green Knight, Chatto and Windus, Londres, 1993
Peter, Dr Laurence J., The Peter Principle, Bantam, New York, 1970
Reed, Ishmael, The Free-Lance Pallbearers, Bantam, New York, 1967
Rice, Anne, The Queen of the Damned, Futura, Londres, 1990
Seeger, Pete, American Favorite Ballads, Oak Publications, New York, 1961
Shakespeare, William, Antony and Cleopatra, Spring Books, Londres, 1965
Skeat, Walter W., Concise Etymological Dictionary of the English Language, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1965
Taylor, Richard J., « The Art of Digital Techniques in the Broadcast Studio », SMPTE, Scarsdale, New York, 1982
Townsend, Sue, The Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13¾, Methuen, Londres, 1982
Tropper, Jonathan, Plan B, St Martin’s Press, New York, 2000
Walker, Margaret, Jubilee, Bantam, New York, 1967
# posted by Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU @ 2:34 PM
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Tristan, Yseult & Jacques Coulardeau
Welsh Triads, Trioedd Ynys Prydein,
If love is sex, then it is demoniac possession?
The eternal debate to know if sex and love are the same thing. Note this love affair is sexual but sterile and the result of a curse cast by some philter. Obnoxious heritage.
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU
Synopsis Paie, Nice
Il semble peu utile de résumer le mythe ou la légende ou même les œuvres elles-mêmes, nombreuses et variées. La première version écrite (loin encore d’imprimée) le fut en 1165 par Béroul. Celle-ci fut suivie d’un bouquet de traductions ou adaptations sur les cinquante années suivantes, la plus récente étant de 1226 en norrois, la langue de la Norvège. […]
What follows in this document is the article (no illustrations)
published in July 2015
In Théâtres du Monde
[23,400 words/mots]
Université d’Avignon, France
This article is in French.
You will also find on Academia.edu
Les notes de recherche / The research notes
25 Reviews / Critiques – 153 pages
(richly illustrated / abondantes illustrations)
Mythical Mythological Tristan and Iseult
Tristan et Iseut, un récit mythologique
Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU
Si vous aimez le cochon, vous serez gâté et vous apprendrez que l'amour n'est que cochon et truie, mais on vous apprendra aussi que le cochon est un animal divin, de l'autre côté de la barrière du réel. Ne parlons pas de la truie puisqu'elle est l'entremetteuse entre l'homme et la salvation suprême. Ah ! le péché originel ! Revu et corrigé à la graisse de saindoux, de sein-doux, de Saint Doux.
If you like old legends and how they change through centuries, if you consider these old stories have roots in older civilizations, often disappeared, or completely transmuted by time, you will find this Tristan and Iseult story particularly inspiring. People have written so much about it that we have a forest of visions (hiding the simplest trees of common sense) brought by a relatively reduced methodological approaches and methods.
After the article you will find in French first and in English second the reviews of 23 Black plays from the USA published in the same issue of Théâtres du Monde.
# posted by Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU @ 2:08 PM
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Poetry, a mental orgasm
The poet, a verbal onanist
Poetry and Poésie in a cosmological drama
Poetry, Oniric and Dramatic (Updated)
No one knows where poetry starts and when poetry stops. It is in all our days, minutes and hours. It is with us all the time though most of us do not see it or realize it is hiding in our pockets.
Poetry comes down with me from my higher floors when I step into the soil of the garden and try to slither between the flowers and among the vegetables. A lady bug is a treat on a green leaf and a bee is a visitor on a rose.
You can easily hear the chirping cicadas and the warbling birds twitting their messages to the whole world, their messages about the coming weather, the impending storm, the unforeseen shower. They know better than we do: they are the poets of nature.
In the evening I close up my shutters and my windows and my doors and I curl up under my featherbed and try to ruminate what I have swallowed too fast during the day.
They all come back, the good, the bad, the evil, the ugly too and the angry above all with their screams and their fiery eyes. They could easily reduce you to ashes and you are no phoenix. Your death will be final, at least in this momentary and transient existence. You may get a second chance beyond the ashes and the flames, reincarnate in bones and blood.
It is so strange that in this moment of revelation about myself it is all sorts of foreign countries or distant places that come back, and this impossibility to step out of myself and merge with the desires of others. Life has been a long harassment for me and death might be a challenge and a change.
Beauty then is the inner dimension of my frustration and the dreamlike appearance of my self-contempt. Poetry is the only way to make peace with my satanic mind and to reach out for a world I imagine more than I apprehend.
We all want to be understood, listened to and maybe liked, a little bit at least. Contact is bliss but it is so hard to go beyond its desire and reach out for the other, the others, the empathy that may be floating around in thin air and that we cannot really feel at the tip of our fingers. We are going on tiptoe in life to avoid any possible stir, and yet the local bully says:
“What are you hiding in your hands, sissy sassy dummy dum-dum dunderhead!”
And in your heart you welcome the contact and say in silence “Nothing, Sir, Mister Master Sir, nothing.”
DIS-BINDING
The cotton-wool of my discomfort
Masturbates my distress
With unbearably delightful cheerlessness
And fondles my blank void-ness
With eternally resting softness
Velvet snug in the cell-lessness
Of this expanding here-ness
Of that overflown there-ness
Deictic directionlessness
Of a heartful of restlessness
Of a restful of heartlessness
The walls have shrunk in front of my eyes
The dancers resisted for a while
But the dark web of my brains
Spidered them over with the white
Of the fleeing screen of ink
That traps the fish
That grounds the tanks
That blinds the shells
And rapes the oyster shrine
That shines in the dimly rosy lips
Of the sea-sand undulating with algae
Dancing with medusae
Swaying with sharks
And rolls the cloudy bouquet
Tasty and crunchy
Like a brownie sprinkled with walnuts
I grin the icing with my golden teeth
And the Rhyne wine twines round my spine
My bonnie bony back formalness
And grinds to ashes
The sweet sugary fumet
Of an herby Irish stew
Steelful like an IRA rifle
Tarful like a highland Scotch
Melts to sparkling crystal
The sweeping sway of my . . .
. . . Rumbanesque chachawise soukouslike samba
The water chute sprays the air
With the white foam
Of the swelling current
Thrusting through the banks
Through the virginal jungle of Africa
Black and dark as a happy night
Luminous as a sad memory
That lancinates my syndromes
With the recurrence of boredom
The naughtiness of neverdom
The strife of let it be again
The resuming silence of the end
When the violet reclines its head
When the rose lilies its petals
The naked wind of the morning
Breaks through the draping sheets
And vanishes in the mourningful distance
Of a hangover showering down
On the flat bottom of our boxed lives
Only the rug will keep the stain
The flesh will be refreshed
By the absolving cup of coffee
By the pregnant Monday
That will inevitably enwomb our thirst
In the fetal capsule
Of next Saturday night
Might be
Might have been
Desire of the never-to-be-remembered
Jacques COULARDEAU
# posted by Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU @ 12:56 PM
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