My name is Subdude, and I have just been invited to join this blog by my dear friend of the North, Rusty.
It’s an honour and indeed a privilege to be part of such an intimate journal of deep and personal thoughts, while still in its infancy (the journal, not the thoughts). It’s equally a big mistake to have invited me to such a mature blog, while I am still also in my infancy.
But my brother Rusty has always been generous and gracious to me.
He is my friend. We have known each other since I came to Canada, about 30 years ago. I am French and when I met Rusty, I naturally surrendered to him, because he is German.
I am also a graphic designer with a very big atrophy of the left brain, or a very large hypertrophy of the right brain, depending on how you look at it.
Where Rusty has only one super-developed hippocampus (probably due to the same hormonal imbalance that had him lose all his red hair when he was 5), and he can refer to Schopenhauer and/or quote Augustine while eating his Frühstück.
I thought of Rusty and this blog yesterday, when I watched the movie Diplomatie, based on a French play by Cyril Gély. It’s the dramatic story of a German officer, General Von Choltitz, who has been commanded by Hitler to destroy Paris on the eve of its liberation in August 1944, and the Swedish consul (raised in France), Raoul Nordling, who will try to dissuade him of doing so. The play and the movie are based on real characters, and indeed the Führer in all his furor (and also a real character that one!) very much intended to burn Paris down to the ground, croissants and baguettes included!
(Spoiler: At the very last hour Von Choltitz will refute these orders.
And that’s why today you can still pay $30 for a coffee at Place de L’Opéra, and Japanese tourists can still experience the Paris syndrome by stepping into French poodles’ poop).
It’s a cautionary tale that clearly finds resonance and correlation with my invitation to participate in this noble endeavour, if you ask me.
How’s that? Well friend, I’m glad you asked. Let me tell you how:
With me endorsing the role of the mad general, that’s how!
I have been entrusted with the powers to undermine the foundations of this very great, beautiful blog, menaced in its core by the threat of my senseless intrusion(s), and it will take all the wisdom of a nordic diplomat (played here by
Brad Pitt Rusty Foerger) to make the fragile edifice endure.
So the best I could do to introduce myself and diffuse the blow to this harmonious publication, was to start with a non-topical “non-post” (it’s new in the social medias and it’s rad, trust me), illustrated by this non-pipe imagined by Magritte, a more enigmatic than dogmatic painter who kept questioning our perception of reality with his clever pictures.
And to conclude with a quote from a favourite philosopher of mine, which will clarifies in our clouded minds many enigmas, without generating more dogmas:
To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be happy one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness.
― Woody Allen
Fröhlichen Festen alle! Joyeuses Fêtes à tous!