THE STONE SOUP

While the woodcutter and his wife, worried about their prosperity, try to lead us to our end through hunger, let us sow small stones to find our way back.

“We are not saddened by having many children,

When they are all beautiful, well made and very big,

And an exterior that shines;

But if one of them is weak or says nothing,

We despise him, we mock him, we pillage him;

Sometimes though it's this little brat

Which will delight the whole family. »

Charles Perrault

Illustration by the great Gustave Doré

Let’s strive to be that one. Not to kill the father, but to save our sisters and brothers (and ourselves, for that matter). Let us be the little ugly one, the stunted one, the bad seed, the one who resists and survives, who is reborn, resows. May this land that we thought was dead be fertile again, and stronger.

Let us not allow ourselves to be devoured, neither by ogres, nor by hatred. Let's be smarter, more cunning. We know pain. We know how to overcome it. Are we not vermin? They made us like this; we can say thank you to them.

I'd rather be a vermin than an eradicator.

The woodcutter and his wife want to make us disappear, but they can't do anything without us. Leading us to perdition, who will offer their banquets to these fools?

KNOW HOW TO POSITION YOURSELF BETWEEN REVOLT AND JUDGMENT...

Intifada = uprising, in Arabic

The first, the Stone War, lasted 6 years, between 1987 and 1993, a movement of civil disobedience against colonization and oppression.

The essential revolt.

Social movements… “Wild”, “plagues”, “dogs” (SIC), against looting and fires.

From banners to lynching. From "peacekeepers" to "maintaining order".

We are always so quick to stone, often using religion, and yet... “Let he who is without sin be the first to throw a stone,” someone says.

To rebel, to say no, without sinking into condemnation, it is a very difficult exercise. Achieving balance, not tipping over and becoming what we despise. Do not transform yourself into an executioner, into this monster who only thinks about revenge, punishment, blood, who feeds on screams, tears, suffering. It is neither beautiful nor fair for anyone. iT doesn't have a good or bad side. Murder is murder. Hate begets hate. We can fan it or stifle it, but the best thing is to extinguish it. In ourselves to begin with. We cannot act on that of others except by behaving differently, by setting an example that is so lacking.

On the networks, in the street, day after day, minute after minute, there are only attacks and insults. It's permanent. All in the position, the posture, the imposture, the claim, the judgment, without taking a second to observe oneself, consider oneself, behave differently. Words, words, and more words, the most disgusting and devaluing possible, to submit the other, believing that we value ourselves. Only, by wanting to humiliate others we humiliate ourselves, because that doesn't make you look or be intelligent either. No act, no gesture of common sense or alignment with what we say we are, believe ourselves to be, would like to be, except among fanatics, fascists, or those few activists whom we deeply hate ( article: a little vocabulary). An exhausting war between camps that are no different: the same unworthy words, the same attacks, the same retrenchments, regroupings, dysfunctions.

I'm tired of not being able to speak, walk, look, breathe, without these incessant, hurtful, gratuitous attacks, for everything, for nothing. I no longer want this anger, this burning, to feel it in myself, to let myself be affected by that of others. It became my fight. If that tells you: join me.

Monty Python, forever the best...

THE STONE SOUP

Ah... those good old dishes of yesteryear that we missed, or not...

Traditional recipe from my father's native Moselle (who is lucky, like my mother, not to have to relive it, they who grew up in the post-war period, in destitution and fear...). Well, this stone soup is nothing more than a basic vegetable soup. We simply added a river pebble which served as a mixer. As the soup simmers gently for two or three hours, the heat causes the stone to move, gently grinding the food.

You can put whatever you have in it: leeks, carrots, cabbage, onions, turnips, potatoes... like in the Hungarian tale of the same name. Or how, in times of famine, we can come together, each bringing something to enrich our common soup, to make it our own banquet, our feast. Gathered around the same table, experiencing moments of happiness and joy so simple that we have neglected them. No need for lobsters or "foutriquet" (insignificant person).

Don’t forget to raise your head to the sky from time to time.

ED

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