Archives for posts with tag: Sarkozy

The corruption cases surrounding Nicolas Sarkozy just never go away. Today, Sarkozy was sentenced to jail, a long past due event and hopefully a reprise is in the works as other criminal/corruption charges are still pending.

dead clown

Free speech clown series

This satire is based in part on actual tape transcripts I have ‘modified’ (to say the least.) The tapes originated with Liliane Bettencourt’s butler who’d made secret recordings over a decade ago, and no, this is not an Agatha Christie story, in fact the tape transcripts did exist and make it into the public sphere before Sarkozy sued to have them withdrawn from all media in the EU under privacy laws. But by then I’d already created this satire combining other interviews with the tapes and those tapes (or juicy parts of them) survive in (severely) modified form in this political lampoon:

Maison de l’Histoire de France

In the annals of two great secular democracies, France has kept her Bastille Day political traditions more intact than the USA has preserved the 4th, but certainly France is not beyond lampooning or, perhaps better said, France has acquired a national habit of self-satirizing, having elected a Hungarian elf with an erection [for jaded super-models] president:

Nicolas Sarkozy, a.k.a. ‘Elfie Fling-fling’, picked up bulemia inspired cat walk queen Carla Bruni within days of his wife Cecelia dumping him for being an elf without a soul. Rather than examine his soulless priorities, having made a big show of a famous socialist humanitarian [Bernard Kouchner] appointed his foreign minister, then Elfie cuddled up with George Bush [apparently soulless Hungarian elves with erections are politically bi-sexual]

More recently the elf tried to strong-arm the employee owned newspaper ‘Le Monde’ into selling itself to one of his politically aligned conservative buddies and failed

Then again, this perpetually erect elf was in the news over a much larger strong-arm robbery-

Enters the scene one erect elf’s acquaintance, gay French troll Francoise-Marie Banier, photographer of modern foppery, who’d pick-pocketed France’s most wealthy woman, 87 year old L’Oreal fortune senility princess Liliane Bettencourt, for over one billion bucks “he is killing me  .. give me this, give me that” and [Agatha Christie wrote this next, there can be no other explanation] the senile L’Oreal heiress complies in conversations recorded by her butler

Frog

^ Banier

What shows up on the recordings?? One Hungarian elf with an erection tried to block the case coming to court, also his finance minister had solicited and received a bribe of a top-end job for his wife with one senile billionaire heiress’ financial manager, Patrice de Maistre, de Maistre himself [Managing Director at Clymène] is heard telling Bettencourt that she has given Banier, via a foundation, an island in the Seychelles, meanwhile one erect elf managed palace [center of government] “will use people we know” to prevent one gay troll photographer of foppery having to pay back a strong arm robbery proceeds of a billion euro and give up having been named sole heir to the richest woman in France .. all put in the hands of investigating magistrates who, as predicted on tape, declined to prosecute. Next scene?

The Hungarian elf moves to secure his legacy with establishing the Maison de l’Histoire de France and it all moves over to a planning session on what it means to be French .. with a peculiar ‘taste’ of colonial Déjà vu.

Invited to the group overseeing the new institution are the elf’s closest confidants .. to include his wife Carla, ex-wife Cecelia and wealthy political patrons, however confused or criminal they might be.. and of course one particularly accomplished con man among this fellowship of con men .. The location is a mansion in Neuilly-sur-Seine, the wealthiest town in France, just outside Paris..

In the men’s room..

Elfie to Banier: I had never known such an ordeal. Never would I have imagined that I would be so profoundly distressed. What was I doing, lobbying  you to seduce this woman! Rather I fell in love with you almost immediately. I thought, I must have that man. He’s mine!!

Patrice: Francoise-Marie, I’m going to come straight to the point and it’s a little awkward…. do you still feel like giving Elfie a present? If you do, it should be through Switzerland, not here. And it would facilitate our plans to buy the little boy-whore this legacy of his dreams. There you are. Chlamydia will set up the new project with you, my dear Francoise-Marie. But we are not going to ask Liliane for more money? It wouldn’t smell right

Banier: Not money. An island. That’s it. So, then I can give the island to the lawyer and afterwards..

Elfie interrupts: We live in a world where people don’t all have the same scruples, where all blow jobs cannot be given, and where, to go down on somebody, all means cannot be used. Despite this, nothing will lead me astray from the path that I have chosen. I’m inclined, personally, to think that we Catholics are born pedophile, and it’s a problem that we no longer know how to conceal this pathology. To say I am Peter Pan, it is a lie! To never grow up does not determine a victim!!

Patrice: Yes. Isn’t that odd? [He laughs]

Elfie: How will it go with the project? Francoise-Marie, you are my true soulmate, the person without whom nothing I do would be possible. At the end of the day, my only real worry is you, my Francoise-Marie

Patrice: There is no stopping him

Banier: Yes, the Maison de l’Histoire de France will be funded, I have found a lawyer, he is such a good fuck. Do you have anything against … Lilliane will be buying her own island back again?

Elfie: À coeur vaillant rien d’impossible

Meanwhile, in the ladies’ powder room..

Carla explains to Cecelia: I’m just starting. Nothing was calculated, nothing foreseen. I’ve never been married before and I’m Italian and I don’t like divorce. Therefore I’m the First Lady of France until the end of my husband’s term, and then his wife until death. I know that can hold surprises .. Narcissism lasts a long time, but burning desire — two to three minutes. I’m at most monogamous from moment to moment, I prefer polygamy and polyandry

Cecelia to Carla: Poor girl! In America you would be a Valley Girl, colloquial, materialistic, self-centered, hedonistic, sexually promiscuous, spoiled with more interest in shopping and social status than intellectual development or personal accomplishment

Liliane: I have a feeling Banier is here to ask me for something. Do you know what for?

Cecelia: Fellatio, what else?

Liliane: It’s always the same. He becomes too demanding. Give me this, give me that!

Carla: What is it with these men? Is this why Elfie does not care for my natural orifice?

Cecelia: How did you become pregnant?

Carla: I spit it into a dish at the clinic!

Cecelia: Fellatio bores me stiff, but it can be useful for more than ‘in vitro.’ Carla, if it had been YOU gave the elf a blow job, rather than Bernard-Henri Levy, there would have been no war in Libya, these men are like putty!

Carla: I could not! I was holidaying in Thailand with Benji Biolay, my shaggy dog pop star. Benji’s stiffy is young and does not shrink from natural accommodation. You see, this is why Benji is a ‘bio-lay’ [Carla smirks]

Lilliane calms things: Is that a Jewish name? Excuse me, but I meant is that a reference to ‘kosher’? Please, let me explain something. At my age I have some knowledge of colonial history. To understand fellatio in these men, one must first understand France when Vietnam was French .. and nước mắm. You see all of these men demanding this fermented fish oil, they keep it in the study on the desk. A flask in the pocket. On the nightstand with a shot glass. Why? I will tell you they do not use it as intended with spices .. if only because it’s unadulterated aroma resembles a certain something they do not readily admit. During the siege of Dien Bien Phu, the Legionaires exhausted their supplies of nước mắm. You know, only practicing French Roman Catholics are allowed to be officers. This is the greed, sliminess, snobbishness, hypocrisy, the anti-Semitism that lies beneath our carpet of Catholic haute-bourgeoisie in France. And when the Legionaires discovered the officer’s breath did not change when the nước mắm was exhausted, they could not fight. Suddenly it had been discovered the Legion is gay..

Cecilia: This is why France elected a man, not a couple … we tried everything, I tried everything. But Elfie’s breath disguised as nước mắm, his breath is just so disgusting. A woman with class does not swallow and can wash out the aroma .. will men never learn? To think they would depend on an alibi, the aroma of fermented fish! Please, Carla, you MUST take the seat closest to the elf..

The planning session begins..

Elfie: Today, Cécilia and I are reunited for the good of French history, for real, doubtless for ever, because we are not able and do not know how to separate from each other. Do not be surprised at my appointing her to this group to determine a direction, to establish the Maison de l’Histoire de France as a geographical territory with a soul. And it is so with each of you, a responsibility to adduce the pretensions of France to a certain historical reality..

Carla: Elfie isn’t addicted to power and that’s what makes him courageous. Except for his peculiar breath, I love being with him more than anything. To be certain, I will be seated according to the respect demanded of a hand-maiden to the French people

Elfie: But, I prefer a mouth to the hand

Cecelia: Without a doubt, this is why you have invited Francoise-Marie Banier..

Carla: I can no longer seduce my husband .. I don’t want to hurt him. Thank you Francoise-Marie, because of you, I am no longer a man-eater, I make no mistakes with my teeth!

Banier: As premier mouth-maiden to France, I say it will be established at the Maison de l’Histoire de France, to be French is to ‘sniff’ with a certain éclat. You do this so very well, my sweet Elfie Fling-fling. And I do not mind your breath, because ..

‘C’est pourquoi ils nous appellent les grenouilles’

frogs

“It’s why they call us frogs”

ve34

‘Free Speech Clown’ Series

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Bernard-Henry Lévy: Philosopher and Murderous Fool

Lampoon inspired by (& loosely based on) this football (soccer) essay by Lévy. If the shallow employ of a 900 liter bag of words makes a philosopher, I suppose Lévy qualifies.

PARIS–Here is one of the greatest fools of all time, a cad, an aroma of Narcissus for the entire planet, and to be universally acclaimed. Here is a carbuncle who, in front of 7 billion people, fondled his balls as though rolling for snake eyes in a die cup all the while, imagining no one would see, ascertaining the final truth in relation to one of the most extraordinary debacles in imperialism’s history.

Here is a man of pomposity, a buffoon, who imagined himself (like Homer Simpson in his crouch of grunt and beer) to be the only one who could avert his nation’s colonial decline. Better yet, here’s a super-EGO who–unlike Simpson’s–did not wait for a flatulent explosion (in the guise of Nicolas Sarkozy) to come begging him to re-enlist; rather, he decided himself, spontaneously, after having “heard” a rumor calling to him, to return from his North African exile and–putting his ludicrous persona on, while flanked by faithful prostitutes (The planned National Transition Council, Al Qaida, MOSSAD)—reversed the Benghazis’ ill fortune and led successful coup d’état.

And this sordid fright who is a ‘perfect’ hair’s breadth from victory and just minutes from the end of a historic deceit (and of a career that will carry him into the Pantheon of frauds after L Ron Hubbard, Victor Lustig and Charles Ponzi); this Cerberus who, with fifty false personalities, has known the rut, the imperial priapism and finally, the imagined slight with helpless remonstrations; this preening fop, upon whom the blue adorns a pimp’s pride in stain of rape, who had only the very last steps to scale to enter ignominy for good, commits the predictably incomprehensible act that amounts to disqualification from the public ritual–the final image of him that will go down in history and, in lieu of apotheosis, will cast him into hell.

—–

Everyone will know, as I write, what actually happened on the field of Tripoli’s usurpation.

Everyone will know what the faux philosopher, Bernard-Henri Lévy, did and said (in the debacle that NATO bombs had dominated with all its grace) to waken old colonial demons in children from the streets of Algiers, the very demons that NATO’s history of lies, its ethic, its aesthetic, its propaganda are made to quell.

Even if we knew why; even if we knew for certain whether the extinct North African Sephardic insulted him, or rightfully cursed his mother, father, brothers, sister; even if we got hold of the black box of those 2 days that saw this moron demonstrate in a flash his legend that is a mix of narcissist king, a Rasputinish love for a Hungarian midget: the past mayor of Neuilly-sur-Seine and, last but not least, the bombastic NATO captains leading troops to consecration with the shedding of brown peoples’ blood; even if we knew the whole story, this man’s suicide would be as all ordinary suicides are; no reason in the world explains the desperate act of a man’s vanity–no provocation, no naturally nasty personality, will ever tell us why the planetary icon that Bernard-Henri Lévy has imagined himself to be, a man with more philosophical faults than any pedophile pope, a freak, the non-chosen one, this great priest-by-self-consensus of the new cult oil barons empire in the making, chose to ejaculate on history right here, rather than wait to settle for sanity on the sideline.

No. The truth is that it is perhaps not so easy to stay unsullied in the skin of a self imagined icon, narcissist demigod, faux hero, paranoid fascist pop-legend.

The only plausible explanation for so bizarrely scuttling everything–which, remember, let a lot of time go by (the 4 long months following NATO’s precisely calculated first bomb dropped) in order to concentrate itself into the outburst of orgy of oilmen and stupidly losing control of his militia–the only explanation is that there was in this fraud a kind of public recoil, an ultimate inner revolt, against the synthetic parabola, the stupid statue, the beastified monument, the era had transformed Libya into over these past months.

—-

The man’s insurrection against the natural saint. A self imagined crown of Napoleon and that he then, quite logically, pulverized with the involuntary moron’s head-butt of unconscious truth, the inescapable war lords and the ‘NEW’ philosophy of rapes and torture, as though saying: I am a living stupidity, a fetish; a self-annointed god of the unrestrained loins of man’s most evil passions, an empty hologram but for image of rapine, this new age fascist guru, this decidedly stunted mentality suffering delusion’s grandeur so blind as Oedipus in his madness, this North African natural heir of Laval and Bousquet, which a peculiar mania had turned him into.

It was as though he were, in parody, self authoring one of the very great titles of this past century, the sinecure acquired via petro-triumph’s laurels of this liturgy of insanity, performance and commodity: Narcissist Homo, This is Rape. Yes, a rape, a true rape, not one of these absurd monsters or synthetic stars created by the money of brand names in combination with the sighs of the Hollywood crowd.

Rasputin had his moment. Like a dog returns to its vomit, Bernard-Henri Lévy will have had his—this one magnificent and rebellious thing, reality, that will have brought his reputation, suddenly, solidly, into the ranks of history’s shameless pimp brothel-hoods.

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Paraphrasing a former MI5 agent I had seen interviewed, under Qaddhafi: if one were not particularly political, a citizen could go about a normal life, attain free education, travel and study abroad and enjoy a standard of living approximating a middle class American, the envy of North Africa .. Since the ‘fall of Tripoli’, a $5 taxi ride from the airport has gone up to $500. The capital and the country are divided into fiefs by competing tribal war lords and the militias are refusing to disarm, women’s rights have vanished and torture, murder and rape are rampant throughout the country. In the end, it is likely the rank and file Libyan citizenry will look back and wish they’d never heard of ‘democracy.’

Read about Lévy’s push to war in Libya here

Read about the immediate humanitarian consequence here and here

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Related: Maison de l’Histoire de France

The Satires

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