© PBOY
The French are the best. The men
don't get fat. The women
don't sleep alone. The kids are
well-behaved. They have the best architecture, the best way of living, best bread, best wine, best olive oil, best cooking, some of the best writing, films, painting, poetry, perfume - and women.
They also excel in revolutions. Each revolution of theirs is a peach, perfect, round and juicy.
They open a new epoch for mankind.
Just thinking of a French revolution makes me feel young, for I remember the previous one, in May 1968, and it was a beauty,
the revolution of Forbidden to Forbid. It ushered us into the short-living paradise of permissible. Believe it or not, we could freely flirt with the opposite sex, we could smoke in the pubs and cafés, we could have a drink and drive. We could rent a room for small price, and roam Europe for $5 a day. Workers weren't fired, jobs were aplenty, there were no one-year contracts, parking was free and gasoline cheap. Oh yes, and the cotton was high.
Previously, the world had been hard, cold and rigid - more or less the way it is now, with
prohibitions overtaking permissions. Half a century had passed since then, and the world is ripe for a new French revolution - and it came, the GJ rising. And in time for Christmas, making it an excellent gift for us all.
Comment: Whether they are the victims of assassination, which is sadly all too common in Mexico, or they're victims of a helicopter crash, which is also increasingly common these days, remains to be seen: Helicopter crashes outside Leicester football stadium with 4 aboard, including club's billionaire Thai owner