Déjà vu, third act

Almost exactly a year after entering its first useless lockdown, France has just entered its third useless lockdown, and it’s the most complicated yet. Citizens must again carry special forms to show to the police in order to venture outside their homes; and failure to have one's papers at hand can lead to fines or jail time. The form is now two pages long. Here's a (translated) sample of some of the text:

Persons residing in departments not subject to reinforced measures may not enter departments subject to reinforced measures beyond a perimeter defined by a 30-kilometer radius centered on their place of residence except for items marked by an asterisk in this declaration as well as within the context of long-distance movements leading only to transit through a zone subject to reinforced measures.

Got it? “Reinforced measures” is the official euphemism for lockdown, the latter apparently sounding too much like what it actually is. The list of businesses that must close (or remain closed), those that can open (or remain open), distance and time limits, and other restrictions is very long. And there's still a curfew, too, for which a different form (sometimes two) is required, ony now it starts at 7 PM instead of 6 PM. Elementary and junior high schools remain open, but high schools close. Some large stores (below a certain size that varies depending on several criteria) may remain open, but with certain aisles closed. And so on. I wonder how the government expects every person in France to keep up with these restrictions, especially since they seem to change before they are even officially published.

Museums, cinemas, bars, restaurants and hotels are still closed, and several large hotels have finally laid off most of their staff. Disneyland Paris is still closed, and its competitor, Parc Astérix, will not reopen for the season on the usual date; nobody knows when either venue will open. People try to go for walks, but then the police claim that they are forming forbidden groups and chase them home.

Official color of Eiffel Tower

Oh well. I just stay at home except to go out for groceries. It’s easier. It’s increasingly exhausting to go anywhere. It’s a pity, especially since the weather is very nice, and spring officially begins in three hours.

In other news … the Eiffel Tower (which is also closed) is being repainted. It is repainted every seven years. This repainting is special, though, because instead of just painting over the previous coat of paint as is usually done, on this pass all previous layers of paint are being removed and the new coat is being applied to bare metal. Nineteen coats of paint—130 years’ worth—are being removed. The work is going slowly because many of the older layers of paint contain lead, which these days is considered a hazardous material that must be carefully disposed of. But there’s plenty of time, as the tower is unlikely to reopen any time soon. Anyway, the tower’s official color is Pantone® Eiffel Tower brown, 18-5210 TCX, a kind of grayish brown.

 

Squeaking by

I went out for groceries today. I went during the day, since I have to be indoors again by 6 PM. I bought potato chips, cereal, and milk. I also bought a pack of masks, since the Reich requires that I wear a mask everywhere. And some paracetamol and aspirin, for chronic headaches.

Orsay Museum snack bar … in 2017

I rested on a bench for a short while  when I went out. Not for long, since it was only 90 minutes until curfew. I didn't feel as exhausted as I usually have lately, but my legs felt weak. I tried to remember when freedom of movement still existed, and the days when I could go for long walks and could afford to eat each time I felt hungry.

I tried to file for unemployment. I've never had to do it before, so I had to figure it out. I think it worked. It should prolong my survival before I run out of money. Of course, ideally I'll find something before then. Or maybe I'll find a winning lottery ticket on the sidewalk.

As always, the rules continue to change concerning the Deadly Virus. Apparently vaccination won't be sufficient to end the masks ad curfews and distancing. Now there are new and terrifying mutant strains that spread more quickly. The end of the world is nigh, if you believe the government and the media. Or at least the end of the free world.

Coping with hysteria

The hysteria continues. There doesn’t seem to be any way to call people to reason. It is truly a slow-motion train wreck. It afflicts a substantial chunk of the world’s population, and Paris and Parisians are not immune (no pun intended).

I actually went outside today, during the day, and for something other than groceries. My smartphone tells me that I walked 5.1 kilometers, which isn’t bad after ten months of inactivity—although it would have scarcely qualified as even a warm-up in the old days (e.g., a year ago). It was scary because my balance is very poor and I constantly feel that I’m going to fall.

I went to the post office and collected my mail. I went to Decathlon, my go-to destination for practical clothing, and bought some cheap shoes (€17) with Velcro fastenings, because I’m having a lot of trouble tying shoelaces these days. Then I went to Darty, my go-to destination for appliances, and bought some clippers with a gift certificate from my ex-employer, in order to remove the fur on my face that has accumulated over the past several months.

I wore a mask the whole time, in accordance with the Reichskommandment to do so. The mask got wet over time because it was cold and my breath condensed inside it. It’s a useless measure. The post office had a sign asking customers to temporarily remove their masks for identification purposes—which would destroy the effectiveness of masks, if they had any to begin with. And I used the elevators at the stores, musing over the fact that masks are especially useless in such circumstances.

Coming up on the to-do list are a trip to the barber (I haven’t had my hair cut in almost two years, due to all the problems with virus hysteria, strikes, demonstrations, etc.), a trip to the laundromat (I had months of clean laundry, but I’m running low), and a trip to the bank to deposit the reimbursement of a transit pass that the RATP sent me after the strikes in 2019. Plus, I still have to find a job, after the virus hysteria put me out of  work.

Less than two years ago, I could afford to buy food, and I had a job, and I didn’t have to wear a useless mask everywhere, and I could stand without falling over, and I could move about freely without being fined or arrested, and shops and restaurants were open and thriving. Things sure changed quickly. Now I understand the old Chinese curse: “May you live in interesting times.”

Daylight spotted

A sunset from last year

I saw daylight today for the first time since May. I usually buy groceries at night, but since this was the eve of a holiday I went out early, and the sun had just set, so it was still light outside. I don’t think I was exposed long enough to generate any vitamin D; nor did I collapse into a pillar of dust, which was reassuring.

The rules concerning the Deadly Virus keep changing. I just stay at home rather than try to figure out when, where, and how I’m allowed to go outside. Maybe that’s what the government wants.

I’ve been watching the videos on my YouTube channel just to remind myself what life used to be like, back when retail shops were open and solvent, and you could go where you wanted, when you wanted.

While sitting in my room I’ve been reading about the fast transition from democracy to dictatorship in Germany during the 1930s, and I’m seeing too many unsettling parallels between then and now.

Rainy days

The little refrigerator in my apartment is almost empty. This seems to happen every week or two, and it's very frustrating because it obligates me to leave my room just to go out and buy groceries. It has also been raining for days in Paris, and this further discourages me from going out. The grocery store is quite close, but in rain I must hold an umbrella, which means I can only carry one bag of groceries instead of two. And with the trouble I have just walking in a straight line these days, I worry also about slipping or falling. Nevertheless, objectively I cannot complain about the rain, since we're below our quota for rain in the City of Light.

The weather is supposed to be drier and colder today, but it is a holiday, so most stores are closed—that is, even more are closed than usual,  since virus hysteria has closed down a great many businesses already (some permanently). There might be a supermarket or two open, but I hesitate to get all ready and drag myself out only to discover that nothing in the neighborhood is open. I’m still thinking abut it. Maybe tomorrow.

I haven’t been outside for anything other than grocery runs, but I did see a photo in the news yesterday showing the area around the big department stores around the Opéra Garnier packed with shoppers, which I found encouraging. Maybe some people are breaking free from the brainwashing.

I’ve lost track of the current batch of restrictions linked to virus hysteria. Apparently there is still an 8 PM curfew, and everyone still has to wear a mask.I simply take the path of least resistance, by not going out at all. At some point, I really need to visit a laundromat and a barber, but with constantly changing rules I’m afraid to go out, and with increasing inactivity it is becoming physically harder and harder to do so.

The prime minister has submitted new legislation that would allow the government to declare and renew states of emergency without bothering to get the approval of parliament. I wonder if the legislation was translated from German. It is apparently also proposing restrictions on freedoms for those who don’t get vaccinations against the Deadly Virus. There’s probably still a stock of stars available in a warehouse somewhere; only the wording needs to be changed. Or maybe just a special number for those who have assumed the position and been vaccinated, like, say, 666.

The Changing of the Rules

The rules are changing again, as they do every day it seems. On the 15th, the need for a police form will be dropped, but an 8 PM curfew will go into effect. Cinemas, theaters, stadiums, concert halls, museums, and poker clubs will remain closed. People under 18 will be able to go to indoor sports centers, but not people 18 or over. Adults can only practice sports outside, and only up to six at a time unless they are on teams. People in nursing homes may visit relatives under certain conditions, but must be tested and observe other restrictions.

The Eiffel Tower is “closed until further notice.” Notre-Dame is closed indefinitely due to fire damage. The Louvre and Orsay museums are closed.

Cafés and restaurants will remain closed, at least until January 20 (supposedly). Discotheques and clubs will remain closed … until further notice.

At least that’s the gist of things. Nothing seems to be fully documented anywhere, so I guess you only know for sure if you’re fined or jailed for breaking one of the zillion daily regulations. It’s easier to just not go out at all, which is what I do (except for groceries).

It’s hard to understand how I’m supposed to look for and find a new job under these conditions. It would be difficult enough under normal circumstances, but this is a hundred times worse. Barber shops haven’t even been open long enough to get a haircut, and so I look like a wild man or wolf-man, with a fur-covered face behind the legally mandatory mask.

Remebrance of Christmas villages past

Time passes so swiftly. Life falls so quickly and easily out of balance.

The virus hysteria of this year (but not the virus itself, ironically) has robbed me and millions of others of our health, our jobs, our savings, our freedoms, and a year of our lives. And it has also deprived us of the Christmas markets.

At this time last year, there were Christmas villages in the Tuileries and at La Défense. There were storm clouds on the horizon and transport strikes in progress (and probably a virus already circulating), but the markets were still open. I didn't much care for the trinkets sold at these markets, but I loved the food, and I had enough money to buy snacks one or two times while walking among the little white wooden chalets of these popular markets. Despite the cold and the strikes, they were still busy.

One stand I liked sold great fish and chips. Big boneless fish fillets, fried in a very tasty batter, accompanied by plenty of fries (chips). I would go there sometimes for lunch at Christmastime.

Aligot and sausage

Another big favorite of mine was aligot, a specialty from Auvergne made from pureed potatoes, melted tomme cheese, cream, butter, and garlic. I bought it topped with diced, grilled sausages.

Then there were sandwiches with various fillings, like cheese assortments, smoked salmon, foie gras, cold cuts, tuna salad, roast beef; etc.

Some places sold big slabs of chocolate, or gingerbread cakes, or canelés: little caramel cakes with the texture of foam rubber and custard centers.

Mulled wine was very popular, too, but I don't do drugs so I never bought any. It smelled nice, though.

There were churros and donuts and much more. Now it's all history.

Tuileries Xmas village in 2019

The Reich has forbidden the markets. It forbids going outside without special police papers. It imposes a curfew at 9 PM. Everyone must wear masks. And thanks to its wartime restrictions, I have no money, I look like a hobo, and I can no longer walk very well.

Emily in Paris

I canceled Netflix some time ago, because there wasn't much to see. I had the deluxe version, which was €13.99 a month at the time—still less than a single cinema ticket—but every time I looked for a movie or television series, Netflix didn't have it. And then the service started giving preference to more lucrative in-house productions that didn't really interest me, so I finally closed the account.

I've heard abut a new series on Netflix called Emily in Paris, which has apparently proven very popular. I've looked at excerpts, and reviews, and the basic premise, but I haven't renewed my Netflix subscriptions to watch it. I don't need to fantasize about life in Paris … because I live it in real life. And in fact, with respect to Emily's specific circumstances, I know them very well, because I've actually been there and done that.

Believe it or not, I've even considered (for years) writing a novel literally entitled Emily in Paris with a nearly identical premise. I kid you not. Although I suppose I'd be sued if I tried it now. My novel would emphasize Paris, rather than sex or romance, and thus would target a different audience than that of the Netflix series.

There has been a lot of criticism of the series from French people and Americans familiar with Paris (and Americans who like to give the impression that they are old hands on Paris). They don't seem to realize that the series is entertainment, not a documentary. The clichés and stereotypes shown are chosen to please viewers, not to educate them. The character of Emily and her glaring flaws are chosen to precisely match those of the targeted viewer demographic, so that viewers can identify with Emily and imagine themselves in her place. These targeted viewers are most likely future housewives and soccer moms who will never visit Europe and could not locate France on a map, so there's no harm in letting them wallow in their illusions—they'll never be ambassadors of American goodwill abroad, anyway.

Questions have been raised with respect to Emily's work circumstances, and I am well qualified to speak on that.

Any reputable corporation that regularly sends employees overseas has a department or service dedicated to this. Sending people overseas costs a fortune and involves an extraordinary amount of red tape. Compensation packages are complex. Paperwork takes ages to complete, and assignments are often planned a year in advance. Nobody is sent abroad as a last-minute substitute for another employee who gets pregnant.

Usually people are assigned to foreign service because they have some skill set or talent that cannot be found locally, be it managerial, technical, or creative. Managers who are being groomed for advancement may be sent abroad as a rite of passage, a learning experience, or (rarely) a perk.

All foreign assignments are hardship posts—even Paris. The administrative procedures, logistics, cost, and culture shock make them so. Employees must be carefully prepared and informed. They (and their families, if applicable) must be favorably disposed to a long period living overseas. Even so, about a third of expat employees return home early due to problems adapting, and almost all are eager to return home at the end of an assignment. And for employees sent to Third-World banana republics and the like, all of this is multiplied by at least an order of magnitude.

Foreign-service employees were usually already well paid even before their assignments, and they receive additional compensation needed to adapt to their foreign posts and cover expenses that the locals don't have. So people who say Emily shouldn't be able to afford designer clothing are wrong—it's entirely plausible that she'd be able to afford the most fashionable attire.

Eiffel Tower

It's also plausible that Emily would speak no French. Learning a language is very difficult for some people; and learning a new language just for an assignment of one or two years may be avoidable if people in the host country already speak one's own language (as in the case of English in France). Many Americans on foreign assignment never learn to speak the local language. They can get away with it because practically everyone speaks English. They don't gain a lot of respect and they aren't necessarily as productive as they could be, but it's just a temporary assignment. Good companies offer and may even require language training in the local language, but that doesn't always help.

As for being clueless and uninterested in culture, that happens with expats, too, so Emily isn't so far removed from reality. There are affluent ghettos in the suburbs of Paris that are filled with American or British or other expat workers who never venture outside their enclaves and speak no French. They are here because their companies sent them here, period, and they'll be happy to return home when their assignments end.

From what I understand, Emily is "fired" by her manager during the first season of Emily in Paris, but a colleague tells her not to worry, since it takes years to fire someone in France. That requires some clarification. First, it doesn't take years to let someone go in France, although the process is much longer (several months) than in the US. Second, Emily is most likely still on a US payroll with a charge back to her French manager's unit, so she is employed "at will" and can be fired on the spot by corporate headquarters. Third, her French manager can request that her assignment be terminated immediately and have her sent back to the USA, but she can't actually fire her since Emily is not on her own payroll. It's complicated (usually).

I've read some remarks from people who say that Emily's apartment is unaffordably large. That's not true, however. She can probably afford it, and her employer is probably helping her with finding and paying for an apartment, which will most likely be larger than what a normal Parisian might have. French salaries are usually dirt, so Emily may be making more than her manager, and several times what her coworkers are being paid.

Anyway, so much for my two cents, based on what I've heard and read and seen. Emily in Paris is fiction, like 99.99% of all movies and TV shows, so I don't see why people criticize it. All fiction is inaccurate. It's just for fun.

One last thing: Sometimes people ask me if Paris is really all it's cracked up to be.  My answer is … yes! At least for me. It may not be identical to the fictional City of Light seen in Emily in Paris or Midnight in Paris, but it's still great. It's not by chance that Paris is consistently the world's most popular tourist destination city.

Black Friday … and more restrictions

If today is Thanksgiving in the USA, and I think it is (fourth Thursday in November), then tomorrow will be Black Friday—if it hasn't been outlawed by some politician's executive order, that is.

Black Friday 2018

France started to have a Black Friday a few years ago, too—even though there is no Thanksgiving to precede or motivate it (only a few countries have holidays akin to Thanksgiving). That doesn't keep merchants in the French Republic from imitating the lucrative American tradition of Black Friday itself. The French even promote "Black Friday week," which seems like an oxymoron to me.

Black Friday didn't really work last year, though. I can't remember the exact crisis—demonstrations, or strikes, or alleged terror attacks, or what—but it fizzled. And this year the police state doesn't permit it. There's talk of deferring it to December 4, but since the government commandments change every day, nobody knows for certain, even the politicians who roll the official dice to set policy.

Today, in fact—like every day lately, it seems—a new and larger batch of rules and regulations has been announced by the government.

 

The rules are the usual arbitrary hodgepodge of logically inconsistent mandates and exceptions, without any scientific basis. I haven't been able to find a written list of all of them. They change every 24 hours or so, so I suppose nobody has time to write them down. Perhaps the idea is to condition the population to stop expecting transparency, documentation, or due process—just shut up and do as you're told.

 

I understand religious services will soon be permitted again, but they will be limited to 30 participants, irrespective of the size of the place of worship. And ski resorts will soon be allowed to reopen … but ski lifts must remain closed, effectively bankrupting any resort that opens. At the same time, driving schools will be allowed to reopen, even though that involves several people riding together inside a car. Bars and restaurants remain closed, but restaurants may be able to open soon. Police forms are still required in order to go outside. Businesses must now maintain a safety zone of eight square meters around each customer, which corresponds to a distance of about five feet. People are now allowed to go for a walk of three hours within a 20-kilometer radius, instead of one hour within a 1000-meter radius. A curfew will still be in effect from 9 PM to,7 AM. And so on.

The government is also considering forced detention of anyone who tests positive for the Deadly Virus. And I would not be surprised if it decided to force everyone to get vaccinated, once a hastily-built vaccine becomes available (the government has denied this, but it has already made a great many U-turns so far). Let's hope the mortality of the vaccine is as low as that of the virus.

 

The trend towards oppression is not limited to measures linked to the Deadly Virus, nor is it limited to France. It looks like the incoming administration in the USA has big plans for many oppressive measures of its own, for instance. It's happening everywhere. It's spooky.

Going beyond the DV, the French government is still trying to push through legislation that would make it illegal to publish photos of police officers on duty—and this despite a very recent incident of shocking police brutality caught on surveillance video. It's a huge erosion of freedom of speech. Some are also seriously suggesting that the country's constitution be set aside to deal with the alleged crises.

One observer has remarked that France has been in a state of emergency for one reason or another—terrorism, Deadly Virus, etc.—for three of the past five years.

I've been reading about how, back in the early 20th century, Germans legally and willingly replaced their democracy with a dictator in the person of Adolf Hitler; and the parallels between those days and what I'm seeing today are numerous and worrisome.

Rules o’the day

Tonight the government announced the latest batch of arbitrary restrictions that all citizens must heed in order to accommodate the Deadly Virus hysteria.

"Non-essential" businesses may reopen on November 28 but must close at 9 PM. Bars and restaurants will remain closed until at least January 20. Cultural venues must remain closed at least until December 15. Religious services may resume.

 

Police forms must still be filled out before leaving one's domicile in order to avoid fines and imprisonment. (It's not clear how people can visit non-essential businesses, given that there's no space on the form for this type of outing.) The government has graciously extended the distance limit for walks and exercise to 20 km and 3 hours instead of 1 km and 1 hour.

 

The Champs in May

A new curfew will begin from 9 PM to 7 AM daily on December 15—except for Christmas and New Year.

 

As for the Deadly Virus, I can only presume that it has been ordered not to infect people during the periods and in the circumstances authorized by the Reich for human interaction.

 

All of this can change at any time if the government pulls new rules out of its hat. The rules for religious services will probably be revised within hours.

 

Oh, and just incidentally, I'm very frustrated by the failure of the Blogger interface to use typographic quotes. I just had to say that.