go, guys, we open the pamphlet laborde christian.
umpteenth Antitaurina chore?
oh no, oh no, oooooo nooooon.
laborde is our culture, it is a emmancheur of haggling, a cutlass ace of the language. it pêlemêlise figures for the neologism with a lint-breath or brawn, we choose as we want, it's dirty pelemele néologise the logos that would both stay.
his prose copied / pasted (not fun at the taquigrafier laborde, you still have not pichneter admin in granny plantin National Front - I say this as a dangerous leftist CL gives the address of the founding of the hinny end of his stammering. that certainly donate gifts to the blind girl) there she is, for example:
"Bullfighting is the worst South that is, the guys and chicks prancing and yelling, reveling in the martyrdom of a splendid beast, calling his death, filthy mass braider traps, teeming with prejudice, saturated frustrations pack living only to see bigger the pack, working to strengthen it, seeing all loneliness provocation, a security breach of its fat.
Bullfighting is the worst that is South, a South crammed Reality TV is going to drain the sink, looking at the pic in the bloody flesh of an animal trapped, humiliated, South heads bacon ricardisées heads and cons of which are identified at first glance, those, glowing, notaries without culture, without cause lawyers, and veterinarians whose animals are wary.
Bullfighting is the worst that is South, South obsessed with its own roots, unaware of foliage and birds, the South has cobwebs under the arms, wearing a beret pulled down over his eyes , like so many waving red cards his proverbs, sayings, wisdom made his alleged resignation, to attention, and submission to the established order.
Défenestrons dézinguons the South and the bullfight! "
ah is not Francis Wolf, tampoco of marcel ruffo, or even Francis Marmande.
want, francis, for that matter, how will you turn your next ode to universal uzestois in knowing that we laborde psalmolit:
"I know another South is a breast, a source, a dream . This is my South mine, aristocratic and popular, primitive and wise, open, alive, vital.
My South to me is Joe Bousquet writing The tea Sarments in Carcassonne, Claude Nougaro singing "Locomotive gold "Theatre du Capitole, Bernard Lubat playing drums for nutria in Uzeste ..."
eh, eh?
and my dear olive tree, how will he still be able to seize the centripetal prose of the late singer of the hardpan of the transaction universalis during his next show as in "bull basta" to the author, continuing his litany autosudiste, graphoflingue (the labordien is tiring, I know if I'll keep the compass):
"André Breton walking the streets of St. Cirq Lapopie percussion Dimitri Szarzewski, in the rain a novel by Bernard Manciet ... "
because laborde assumes. everything. and especially the power of him who has the essence of azimuths. compass is correct. its south is a registered trademark. . and los toros, no, it's not copyrighted. beyond its meaning, its poetic, its pantheon.
what? you say? manciet and "per yiyo el" in homage to the bullfighter was born in Bordeaux and died in the Horn "burlero" colmenar to in 1985? but finally sir! Laborde then, in fact, can not read, never went to a bookstore, do not have a library. Finally, if, but after personal bonfire. laborde includes only the redaction. He dreams of our nights crystallize. that's all.
it all?
what? Vou insist? who? Lubat friendly serge pey and "Afilador" ... you mean, THE pey? that of "infinite Copla for bull-men's Sunday" ? yes fontenay MAME (the sister of one who has a hat instead of the brain. or vice versa, I'm lost). yes, yes. HIM itself. el pey.
bin gosh.
and then later, we see the bull torturequemada humiliated under her superb in a movement comparable to the chin up to Eric Cantona. yes, yes, yes ... you read correctly, cantona! the soccer players shooteux chimérico-digital trimballe beautiful pictures of bullfights no basta exhibitions in its cartons that are safely on the walls of the city hated by the anti-bullfighting didi.
the didi ?
yeah, didi, wire wang in "Blue Lotus". one who found the way and wants to shorten the bulb at any quidam it has not met her, using a saber Asian curvature ideal for cutting short the complexity of the world.
but we prefer the mountains didi Kalach.
is beautiful. listen to it in bursts:
"Défenestrons southern death and dézinguons bullfighting! We open fire, empty our Kalashnikovs, our guns stashed in our attic on the scum who goes to confession arenas!" is
... more radical and effective. bang! the aficionado drinker sap where the bubble cosmogonies manciet and pey! bang! in the cross, a thousand, for sure. without puntilla. dumdumisé by the fatwa of cricket.
but didi, the Chen-Yee, pure, true, acted under the domination of the "poison that drives you mad." laborde absorbed would he turn a substitute radjaïdjah famous?
nay.
christian, he looks for peaks in the veins, he did not "head (s), lard ricardisée (s)", he, the great troubadour of appointments will be more than with only two small calves and a derailleur, I have named: the turn de France.
ah! healthy men. so different from those bulls which is injected a lot of illegal drugs to transform into a beast to tame and silly spectacle. and then the caravan is well known for the large loop is ecologically QEH n'emmerde not bears and vultures, crosses the tip of its tires silence cervical marie-blanque and has never, O never , stew with aniseed beverage vendors that make sourdars those who dare to ride their fat bases arenas.
but he sees only the mass of rednecks who congregate along the roads of France to pick up three hats and conforama eat all bars as hostesses twixx rictusées throw with disdain from the top of their tanks advertising? no, it ignores them.
because laborde burp. first. forever.
belching and decrease its field of vision. loghorrée takes its space and relegates people and animals behind his ego and his false rebellion.
cons and cons his fellow animals.
us fans, we say these magnificent words: "LOS TOROS SON DEL PUEBLO". I do not even do him the kindness to translate it, what's terrorist octoplasmie, the subtlety of language because he hates the people. that of men and bulls.
point.
nb: I ignored the endless comparisons between a plaza (as he writes this guignolo pizza) and the death camps or reminders hystéoriques (I'll do the lala way! ) to the henchmen of French bullfighters. like, pale face, look at this friend pelayo:
http://lafetesauvage.blogspot.com/2009/02/laficion-au-bout-de-lexil.html
nb 2 : antis are remarkable is that they are genuine revisionists, like all fascist forgers in power. one wants to recover goya (I can not remember lequel.ah if Hardoin-Fugier is therefore one and not one) that mentioned here rounded up Leiris. hence my tribute to the man deletions by the portrait that Bacon, another patient who dared to paint the bloody bullfights, made.
nb 3: many other curses masculent About the author throughout the book. attentivemet I read the first 15 to 20 pages and flew the rest. to match, all in keeping. nice work ... the cutting of trees that were sheltering many birds, squirrels or other critters that due to the altruism of Christian Laborde and his publisher had démanager or agony.
