#Pierre Marchand

[meta-holott]

1979 Paris, Montmartre, rue du Poteau, marchande de quatre-saisons

[offsidenewsco]

🏅Celebrate tomorrow's Paris 2024 Paralympics Opening Ceremony through a definite summer sport: ice hockey. We assigned Olympic events to some of your favourite NHL players to keep the competitive spirit going in the offseason!

🗞️ Read more here.

[crownedstoat]

The Talbot-Lago T26 GS driven by Pierre Levegh and Rene Marchand at the 1952 24 Hours of Le Mans.

[theoscarsproject]

Entre Nous (1983). A Jewish refugee marries a soldier to escape deportation to Germany. Meanwhile a wealthy art student loses her first husband to a stray Resistance bullet; at the Liberation she meets an actor, gets pregnant, and marries him.

Oh, I adored this one. Tender and intimate with breathlessly moving performances by Miou-Miou and Isabelle Huppert, it just radiates empathy and connection. Plus the cinematography and the score are both divine. Love it. 9/10.

[phantomladyoverparis]

La vittima designata (1971), dir. Maurizio Lucidi  

[musicandoldmovies]

Corinne Marchand and Jean-Pierre Cassel

Happy 93rd birthday, Corinne Marchand

[revuetraversees]

 QUATUOR D'ARNAL, Les entrefaits, (illustrations de Jean-Pierre Otte), À l'index, octobre 2024, 110 pages, 15€

Une chronique de Marc Wetzel  QUATUOR D’ARNAL – Les entrefaits – (illustrations de Jean-Pierre Otte) À l’index, octobre 2024, 110 pages, 15€    ” … vers une sorte d’idéal poétique : non pas celui de l’écriture d’un poème anonyme, mais celui de l’invention d’un poète qui ne porterait pas de nom”                                                                          (Yves Arauxo, p.47)     “…

[thebrownees]

Included are my favorite thirteen films. Four are directed by Godard, three by Truffaut, two by Renais, and one each by Chabrol, Demy, Malle, and Varda.

[fredomotophoto]

Maison Zum Kragen (Colmar)

Canon EOS R

24-105mm F4 DG OS HSM | Art

ƒ/9.0 

28.0 mm 

1/80 

iso 320

(FR)

La Maison Zum Kragen est un édifice situé au 9, rue des Marchands à Colmar, dans le département français du Haut-Rhin. Cette maison d’angle a une histoire riche et complexe, datant du XIVe siècle.

Origines et Reconstruction

La maison est mentionnée pour la première fois au milieu du XIVe siècle et appartenait à Clawelin Saltzmann de 1419 à 1423. Elle a été séparée du Corps de garde par un étroit passage, appelé Kragengässlein ou Gallengässlein, qui relie la rue des Marchands à la place de la Cathédrale.

En 1584, la maison était vide et abandonnée, et en 1586, elle s’est écroulée. Claude Sattmann, qui possédait déjà la maison Pfister, a reconstruit la maison Zum Kragen entre 1586 et 1605.

Architecture et Protection La maison présente des caractéristiques typiques de la Renaissance, avec un rez-de-chaussée en pierre, des étages en colombage et un encorbellement peu marqué. Les façades et toitures ont été classées au titre des monuments historiques depuis le 16 février 1949.

Le poteau central de la galerie au troisième étage, daté de 1588, est vraisemblablement la date de construction. Le poteau d’angle sculpté, daté de 1609, provient d’une maison de la rue Berthe-Molly et représente un drapier tenant une aune.

Conservation et Intérêt La Maison Zum Kragen est un exemple notable de l’architecture de la Renaissance à Colmar et contribue au patrimoine culturel de la ville. Elle est protégée et conservée par les autorités locales et nationales, garantissant sa préservation pour les générations à venir.

Localisation sur Google Maps : maps.app.goo.gl/M2AmF6irsyUZqo7F8

(EN)

The House Zum Kragen is a building located at 9, rue des Marchands in Colmar, in the French department of Haut-Rhin. This corner house has a rich and complex history, dating back to the 14th century.

Origins and Reconstruction The house is first mentioned in the mid-14th century and belonged to Clawelin Saltzmann from 1419 to 1423. It was separated from the Guardhouse by a narrow passage, called Kragengässlein or Gallengässlein, which connects the rue des Marchands to the Place de la Cathédrale.

In 1584, the house was empty and abandoned, and in 1586, it collapsed. Claude Sattmann, who already owned the Pfister house, rebuilt the Zum Kragen house between 1586 and 1605.

Architecture and Protection The house has typical Renaissance features, with a stone ground floor, half-timbered upper floors and a slight corbel. The façades and roofs have been listed as historical monuments since 16 February 1949.

The central post of the gallery on the third floor, dated 1588, is probably the date of construction. The sculpted corner post, dated 1609, comes from a house on rue Berthe-Molly and represents a draper holding an ell.

Conservation and Interest The Zum Kragen House is a notable example of Renaissance architecture in Colmar and contributes to the cultural heritage of the city. It is protected and conserved by local and national authorities, ensuring its preservation for generations to come.

Location on Google Maps: maps.app.goo.gl/M2AmF6irsyUZqo7F8

[lounesdarbois]

Paris aux approches de Noël à l'époque, il y a longtemps, combien c'était beau. Les porches, les entrées éclairées, les hautes fenêtres avec leur rideaux là-haut, la branche qui dépasse d'un sapin décoré, les moulures aperçues d'un plafond illuminé. Je regardais tout cela enfant depuis en bas, depuis la rue. Et en arrière-plan le soir était la pénombre des parcs avec leurs feuillages balancés au vent derrière les grilles en fer. Émergeant ça et là, les gens, les familles surtout, une chose rare aujourd'hui, les gens étaient en famille. Des pères à l'allure fringante, de jeunes mères avec chacune plusieurs enfants, très rangés, très élégants, très heureux. Un monde comme mon monde, chez mes grands-parents. Le monde comme un prolongement tranquille de mon monde. Le décor des logements bourgeois dans des films comme Les Visiteurs, Opération Corned-Beef, Le père Noël est une ordure, étaient tous semblables au logement principal et secondaire de mes grands-parents, ainsi la vie future serait une tranquille continuité entre la vie privée et la vie publique, et la France remise à l'endroit par ces visites chez ces Anciens aurait forcément raison bientôt de la montée des "voyous" comme on les appelait alors. J'avais une famille. Un havre de paix gratuit quelque part, un refuge avec une place à mon nom, une base. Quand j'ai compris avec le temps que c'était ma seule famille, vu mes origines, alors que tous mes amis en avaient deux, cette base est devenue alors un idéal à reconstruire pour la vie adulte future.

La fête que c'était, Paris, enfant, avant Noël. La foule variée des restaurants, des cafés, tout cela inondé de lumière qui devait ne jamais s'éteindre. Il y avait la vie quelque part, cela existait, il suffisait de le savoir pour s'en retourner rassuré dans sa banlieue éteinte affronter la montée des "voyous", épreuve temporaire qui finirait bientôt, car les méchants finissent au bagne disait Le Bouillon.  Paris, les grands magasins. Le Printemps. Les Galeries Lafayette. Le métro avec ses publicités immenses pour La Samaritaine. Le Trocadéro. Les églises. Les gares pleines de voyageurs avec des skis. Et partout où l'on allait dans la ville les sapins ceinturés de girandoles, constellés de lumières dans les entrées d'immeuble, dans les halls de palace, dans les magasins, partout, comme une symphonie unanime dans le pays où chacun joue sa partition privée spontanément, partout. Les avenues bordées d'immeubles en pierre, illuminés du dedans, peuplés de familles françaises qui attendaient Noël comme nous. Les guirlandes électriques dans les rues. Les publicités pour les spectacles, les salles de spectacle avec leurs portes en or qui donnaient 3 représentations par jour d'un Molière ou d'un Feydeau, bondées de foule française heureuse, pendant ces jours qui précédent Noël, pendant la montée progressive vers cette réjouissance, 19 Décembre, puis l'entrée dans les chiffre des vingtaines, le 20, le 21, de mieux en mieux le 22, le 23, puis le 24 et le parachevèment du 25, point final et point d'orgue de l'année. Les libraires, les bistrots, les brasseries avec leurs étalages d'écailler mirifique, les pancartes "arrivage d'escargots", les teinturiers derrière leurs comptoirs assiégés, les écoles encore encore occupées, les salons de coiffure pleins de dames, les marchands de gravure et leur air compassé, les détaillants en spiritueux. Partout la vie. Et chez nous, se retrouver à 20 convives, accomplir les préparatifs, réserver les huîtres, cuisiner des plats, allumer des lumières partout dans un appartement spacieux où chaque pièce devenait habitée, ici pour s'habiller, ici pour emballer en secret des paquets, là pour parler affaires, chacun à sa place. 1995. 1990. 1988, et avant. Larmes fréquentes rien que d'y penser. Cette lugubre, hideuse impression de fin de tout aujourd'hui, dans l'indifférence dépeuplée, cynique, impie, technologique. Tout cela beaucoup trop violent, beaucoup trop méchant quand on est seul, quand on est loin, quand le train qui vous dit "complet" part sans vous et qu'on s'essouffle à le rattraper. Parti au vent le parc Monceau, et le Ranelagh, le manège en bois, la boulangerie, le marchand de caddies à motifs écossais en bas de la rue. Cette ville grise à l'extérieur et si chaude, si lumineuse, si proprette dès que l'on entrait quelque part. Auteuil, l'arrêt "Jasmin" sur la ligne du 9, la légende, la ligne qui mène aux Champs-Elysées et au virage Boulogne, à la bourgeoisie et au combat. Et le musée de la marine, et l'aile Denon au Louvre d'où l'on revenait plein d'histoires à raconter, le théâtre de Chaillot, et Guimet, et les petits cinémas du 16ème qui donnaient Maman j'ai raté l'avion en 1990. Et les vieux appareils électriques oranges, notamment le presse-agrume, le couteau électrique qui fait des fines tranches de rôti, le hachoir à jambon, la yaourtière. Et la noble charité filiale, légère, facile, dégagée, qui nimbait tout cela dans un ordre qui avait toujours été, qui serait toujours, grâce auquel nous n'aurions jamais à nous inquiéter de rien.

Et aujourd'hui... À six heures du matin rugit le hurlement des poids-lourds qui redémarrent au feu rouge (visages effondrés des routiers moldaves à la proue de 20 tonnes de béton sur métal qu'ils ont conduit toute la nuit). Les embouteillages, les rues défoncées, les palais noircis qui s'enfoncent dans la boue du sol détrempé. Plus de jobs. Plus de prolétariat. Plus rien. Recommencer à "gagner sa vie" là-dedans seul, abandonné en rase campagne. Sueurs froides et halètement. Réminiscences de Houellebecq, Soral, de ces lectures de 2000-2010, de phrases comme "la société où vous vivez à pour but de vous détruire", ou "ils ont été emasculé par la violence du système", ou encore "vous étudiants, êtes voués à un monde de mensonge, de saloperie et de violence". Dire que cela nous semblait exagéré à l'époque... Tout est contre nous et personne ne fait rien. Et puis un pays noir. Des rues noires sous un temps noir. Population rare, verdâtre, visages froncés, bouches mal fermées, dents avides. Société excrémentielle. Pluie noire sur les dos voûtés, lavés à l'eau sale, qui rentrent par des cages d'escalier aveugles dans des bâtiments opaques aux vitres fumées d'où ne sort ni lumière ni branche de sapin, ni familles rangées. À côté de cela, les "consultants" badge au cou dans leur voiture payée par la prétendue union, prétendument européenne, et les "double paye sans enfant". Il n'y en a plus que pour les sournois suceurs. Un tel degré de saloperie, une entreprise aussi monstrueuse, devrait se payer par vingt Sinn Fenn par jour, méthodiques, fanatiques de justice en faveur des pauvres.

[transparentgentlemenmarker]

Le Pigeon et l’Homme. Sur le pavé froid et mouillé d’une ruelle de Paris, un homme gisait, oublié du monde. Ses haillons trahissaient une misère profonde, et son visage, marqué par le froid, portait l’ombre d’un destin brisé. Autour de lui, les passants passaient, pressés, insensibles, absorbés par les méandres de leur propre existence. Mais du haut d’un toit, un œil brillant observait cette scène. Un pigeon, humble créature des cieux, se tenait là. Son plumage gris semblait absorbé par la pâleur du ciel hivernal, et pourtant, en lui brûlait une lumière. Ce pigeon n’était pas ordinaire : il portait en son cœur une noblesse que peu d’hommes possèdent. Voyant l’homme abandonné, il descendit en une volée d’ailes, et se posa doucement à ses côtés. Là, il vit la détresse. L’homme, au bord de l’inconscience, murmura : Laissez-moi. Paris n’a plus besoin de moi. Mais le pigeon, dans son silence, avait entendu mille histoires. Et dans son instinct, il comprit qu’un geste devait être fait. Il battit ses ailes avec force, saisit les pans du manteau de l’homme entre ses serres, et dans un effort titanesque, il s’éleva. Oh, que dire de cette vision le ciel de Paris s’ouvrit comme un poème. Un pigeon, frêle et déterminé, portait un homme, lourd de douleur, à travers les brumes de la ville. Les toits d’ardoise devinrent spectateurs, et les cheminées, témoins muets d’un miracle. Il le déposa enfin sur un banc, sous la lumière vacillante d’un réverbère. Là, il vola en quête d’aide, et trouva une vieille femme, marchande de fleurs, qui passait avec un panier d’herbes. Elle s’arrêta, interloquée. Que fais-tu là, oiseau des rues ? demanda-t-elle en voyant le pigeon qui voletait autour d’elle avec insistance. Elle suivit son étrange guide, et trouva l’homme affaissé. Avec douceur, elle le ranima, partageant son pain et son vin. L’homme, éveillé, croisa le regard du pigeon perché non loin, comme un ange discret. Était-ce toi ? murmura-t-il, les larmes aux yeux. Le pigeon, dans un battement d’ailes, s’éleva vers le ciel, disparaissant parmi les étoiles naissantes. Et ainsi, dans cette nuit parisienne, un simple oiseau avait rappelé à un homme sa propre valeur, et à une ville son humanité. Car Paris, sous ses façades de pierre, est un théâtre d’ombres et de lumière, où même les plus humbles peuvent devenir héros, et où les cieux abritent des cœurs plus vastes qu’ils ne le laissent paraître. Barbesànthiel

Une sculpture le passage de Fredrik Raddum

[aedislumen]

Did Prieur Claude Antoine really have a daughter with Madame Vêtu in 1788 (or is it just a strong possibility)?

Whether Prieur had a daughter with Catherine-Elisabeth Vétu, born Joly, is something we can never know for sure, unless we go back in time and ask them. However, according to both Paul Arbelet and Georges Bouchard, who had the chance of having access to Prieur's complete collection of personal papers, there's strong evidence that the latter might have truly been the biological father of Madame Vétu's last child.

Before delving into the matter, allow me a little digression on how Prieur and Catherine came to know each other.

The two met in 1785, when he was 22 and she was 29; yes, she was seven years older than him! The former moved to Dijon both for military duty and to assist Louis-Bernard Guyton in his scientific works. The young officer needed a place to stay and one of the rooms of the Vétu family house revealed itself to be the most suitable for him. Bouchard guessed that the two might have become close very soon, allowing Prieur to eat and sleep there for free since his low salary at the time wouldn't have allowed him to always pay the rent. (1)

Not a far-fetched speculation, considering Catherine’s lively character and active participation in the management of her husband's grocery store; at that time managing a business implied a minimum of education and both a strong dedication and commitment to work; qualities that Prieur appreciated and admired in a person. On the other hand, Catherine, despite the age gap, must have been impressed by Prieur's reserved, hardworking character and polite manners, something that her husband seemed to be lacking. (2)

In 1785 Catherine already had two children, Pierre, 9 years old and Bernard, 7 years old; three years later, her last one, Claudine was born. Prieur was chosen as godfather, or offered to be.

Here's the child's baptism certificate I managed to find in the Cote-d'Or archives:

[Source: Archives de la Côte-d'Or, Registres paroissiaux et état civil, XVIe siècle-1938 (sous-série 2 E). Collection communale 1579-1792, Toutes paroisses, FRAD021EC 239/095, Vues 0252-0317 : Paroisse Saint-Jean, Baptêmes et Mariages, janvier 1788-décembre 1788, vue 279]

Claudine-Denise, fille du Sr Joseph Vétu, marchand épicier et demoiselle Catherine Joly son épouse, est venue au monde et a été baptisée ce jourd'hui 2 mai 1788, son parrain, M. Claude-Antoine Prieur Duvernoy, écuyer, officier au corps royal du génie, représenté par le Sr Jean-François Boiteux, épicier, et sa marraine, dame Claudine-Denise Couturier, veuve du sieur Bernard Joly, son aïeule maternelle. (3)

EN: Claudine-Denise, daughter of Joseph Vétu, grocery merchant and of Catherine Joly, his spouse, was born and baptized on this day 2 May 1788, her godfather being M. Claude-Antoine Prieur Duvernoy, esquire, officier in the Corps Royal du Génie, represented by Sr. Jean-François Boiteux, grocer, and her godmother dame Claudine-Denise Couturier, widow of Monsieur Bernard Joly, her maternal grandmother.

As mentioned before, the supposition that Claude-Antoine might have been more than a simple godfather stems from some facts that for Arbelet and Bouchard are pretty emblematic: In Prieur's personal notes, there's a date written down by him and another one right next to it, which not only corresponds to Claudine's birthday, but it's curiously nine months distant from the first date. I’m not an expert on 18th century customs, but it’s not unlikely that men wrote down the date in which they had intercourses with a woman to know if they were the father of the child that might have later been born. When Claudine was 17, Prieur arranged a marriage between her and a friend of his, Drappier, to whom he later associated the business the former was running at the time; at the time these engagements for a girl were her father’s or her guardian’s duty. When Prieur wrote his testament, he left quite a sum of francs to Claudine's son as inheritance and lastly, there's also a letter from an old garrison fellow of Prieur, in which there's written "I wish good morning to you and your women". (4)

I’d like also to add that from the bits of their correspondence shared by Bouchard and the overall treatment Prieur reserved for her throughout her life, the two seemed to be pretty close, linked by an intimacy that goes beyond the one between a woman and an old family friend. He was always there for her, sent her various gifts and helped her financially. In my opinion, this further confirms the hypothesis that Claudine was his real daughter.

Why did he never adopt her, not even after Joseph Vétu’s death? It’s a question that those who wrote about Prieur never asked themselves, but that I personally wonder. The only thing I can think of right now, given my limited knowledge, is that he didn’t want to give her his surname and cause her to be persecuted. Despite never being the target of slander, he had been part of the revolutionary government responsible for the Terror and not a normal one, but a member of the “bloodthirsty Committee of Public Safety of Year II”: so was the view of the Great CSP during the Napoleonic Era and Restoration.

It’s Prieur himself that in a letter dated 1814 to General Marescot reveals he resigned from public life at the beginning of the century because he foresaw the persecution the members of the government prior to the Consulate would have endured. (5) If he had had a concern for his daughter, it would have been a legitimate one: Sadi Carnot couldn’t advance in the army, despite deserving it, and was denied some positions, because of the surname he bore.

Edit: thanks to @nesiacha 's detailed answer about inheritance and legitimate/illegitimate children during the First Empire a more plausible reason why Prieur decided not to legally adopt her lies in the fact that Claudine not only wouldn't been granted the same rights as a natural child as far as inheritance was concerned: she would have received significantly less; but also illegitimate children were often viewed in a very hostile and negative way, in some instances, even considered as "monstrosities in the social order" and a "real calamity for morals". He clearly didn't want to stain Claudine's honour. Last but not least, Prieur and Catherine-Elisabeth never married after Joseph Vétu's death and the latter recognised Claudine as his daughter when she was born, so I don't think it would have been easy for Prieur to pass over this.

References

G. Bouchard, Prieur de la Côte-d’Or, 1946, p. 54-58.

P. Arbelet, La jeunesse de Prieur de la Côte-d’Or, Revue du dix-huitième siècle, 1916, p. 38-51

Notes

Curiously in their correspondence, Claudine always calls Prieur "mon cher parrain" (= my dear godfather) and nothing in those letter hints at the fact she might have known her real father's identity.

On page 56 of Prieur’s biography, Bouchard affirms with confidence that the date of Thursday 1 December 1785 which Prieur wrote in his “Tableau du temps... depuis 1782 jusqu'en 1792.” - a sort of list of the main events of his life - corresponds to the latter’s unofficial engagement with Catherine. Considering that Prieur arrived in Dijon in August, it means it took them four months to fall in love with each other. Though, except for a vague remark on “a certain number of coincidences that would be too long to report”, Bouchard doesn’t explain in specific how he got to that conclusion.

From some letters and papers that Prieur kept, Joseph Vétu appeared as a “lousy and insignificant man” (G. Bouchard, p. 56).

Transcription by Bouchard (p. 58 of his biography)

Letter from Andréossy to Prieur (G. Bouchard, p. 361).

Letter to Marescot of 18 April 1814 (G. Bouchard, p.380-381).

[serve-cunt]

please miss, who is in the Olympics off of tennis au and do lando or oscar win and which other athletes do they have raging crushes on?

omg the whole top 20 goes OF COURSE & they keep seeing each other in the olympic village and being like "hehe!!" because they're all in their patriotic country kits instead of their sponsor gear, carlos and fernando have to wear that winnie-the-pooh ass spain gear, max is in BRIGHT ORANGE ... lewis, george, alex, and lando all have to wear .. this...

sorry guys.

this is what oscar has to wear, which. fine.

galex are a doubles team (CUUUTE) and lando & lewis play together which uhh. does not go well. galex win silver and fernando & carlos win gold. pierre & esteban win bronze LOL

in singles max wins, of course (it wins him the career golden slam, & he's kinda mad because if lando hadn't won the australian open he would have had the golden slam practically guaranteed for 2024), charles wins silver (LESTAPPEN OLYMPICS PODIUM) and the fire poker of patriotism up George's ass wins him bronze (FOR QUEEN AND COUNTRY)

oscar develops a weird crush on clark kent aka Stephen Nedoroscik, aka Pommel Horse Guy, and lando makes fun of him for it MERCILESSLY but then proceeds to get sooo dopey around leon marchand, so they're mostly even by the time they go home :))

[dontbestingybaby]

“An article published in Haiti's Political and Commercial Gazette presciently analyzed the broader significance of the changes U.S.-Haitian trade relations underwent under Jefferson. The author of the article wrote that the United States would one day ‘occupy a distinguished rank among the masters of the sea.’ Foreseeing the inevitable decline of France and England, the writer warned, ‘The same thing will befall the powers that are presently dominant; they will undergo an unmistakable decline, while the United States will assume the rank to which it is destined. But this era will become deadly for the Caribbean. It will simply change masters. It will come under the yoke of the United States.’ As for ongoing U.S. slavery, ‘in the states of the south, [it] is a fire that smolders under the ashes, the eventual explosion of which will one day make tremble the hardened and deaf masters who still maintain it, despite the prudent advice of their fellow citizens of the north.’ Like Boisrond-Tonnerre, who observed that the ‘key to liberty’ for the still enslaved across the Americas could be found ‘in their own hands,’ the writer from the Gazette prophesied that one day ‘some audacious avengers will reclaim with interest their natural rights that have been violated.’ While most Haitians believed that France was their greatest enemy, this article asked the Haitian people not to ignore or dismiss the serious danger next door in North America: 

[France's] attempts will come crashing down like the waves of the sea at the foot of the rock of our independence, and from the mountains our rescue squad will descend upon them. But a more hidden danger, and one far less apparent, because it is still distant for now, threatens us anyway. It will not be from Europe that our ills must come, if we are to ever experience them; it will be from the continent of the United States: their proximity, the constant comings and goings of their citizens in our ports, the ambitions that they will bring with them, if our government does not restrict them, must open our eyes to the plots that they may one day attempt against us. 

“The writer did not seek ‘to place a cloud over the conduct of the Americans, nor do I think at all that, either the present government or the individuals who are linked to it through commercial relations with that country, have thus far had any plans to dominate us, nor to meditate on our enslavement.’ Yet, he said, ‘it is no less true that the possibility of such a combination could arise from a concurrence of circumstances, if ever the United States were to erect itself to become a maritime power.’ [42]

“Imperial rage followed the publication of this astonishingly prescient article. Dessalines ordered Christophe to discover the identity of the author and to have him sent to Marchand/Dessalines immediately. Dessalines worried that openly and publicly criticizing the United States might propel the trade embargo being debated on the floors of Congress. [43] Christophe soon learned from the empire's printer, Pierre Roux, that the author was Joseph Rouanez, the official English translator in the empire and editor of the Gazette. [44] Dessalines must not have punished the newspaperman too harshly. Rouanez continued to work as editor of the Gazette; and despite Dessalines's evident displeasure, events on the ground made it difficult to deny the new geopolitical threat Rouanez outlined.”

from The First and Last King of Haiti: The Rise and Fall of Henry Christophe by Marlene L. Daut

Additional citation: "Du Cap," Gazette politique et commerciale d'Haïti, Oct. 17, 1805, 175. 41.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre showed a lack of respect for elected officials by calling the mayors of Montreal and Quebec City "incompetent" on social media, Valérie Plante said Friday. The Montreal mayor said she was "quite disturbed" by the Tory leader's comments on Thursday when he accused her and Mayor Bruno Marchand for stalling new housing construction in their respective cities. "We keep on talking about mental health and how we want everybody, all of society, to be respectful to each other … he calls himself a leader and attacking personally, naming people, calling them names — to me, it is so disrespectful to my job, his job, anyone's job, and also of the type of climate, the social climate we want to be part of," Plante said Friday in an interview with CJAD 800.

Continue Reading

Tagging @politicsofcanada

[crossbackpoke-check]

find a blorbo (nhl tag game)

RULES: Go through the roster of each NHL team and find at least one player that you can root for.

tagged by @bondedpairs!! when i say too many teams to count and here for the narrative um. i may not have lied. this is not an extensive list of my blorbos but in order to make it not ten thousand years long i made up the rule that i had to do it straight from memory :)

anaheim ducks: as evidenced by recent events i DO like mason mctavish and trevor zegras but i have to honor laura and mention troy terry and beloved goalie gibbie*

boston bruins: oh for sure brad marchand… can i say patrice? one of the charlies got traded but i think mcavoy is still there because gryz is gone, brandon carlo is there still i think

buffalo sabres: cozens & thompson, owen power, rasmus dahlin, ukko pekka luukkonen

calgary flames: is chris tanev still here? is markstrom still here?? noah hanifin?? as a last resort i’ll say blasty

carolina hurricanes: aho & jarvy & teuvo teravainen & brent burns is still playing maybe? i know sepe got traded

chicago hockey: the bedsy narrative is compelling but ANDREAS ATHANASIOU MY BELOVED reunited with tyler bertuzzi… that’s the real story. also i like foligno

colorado avalanche: gabe landeskog, whatever ross colton & miles wood have going on, natemac + jo, mikko

columbus blue jackets: have long been on the merzlikins train, have been swayed to the darkside of umich boys (brindley, kent johnson, fantilli, blankenburg who is now on nsh)

dallas stars: seggy! mush! roope + miro and otter and robo and wyjo (rip ty dellandrea) and harls! etc.

detroit red wings: MOST players. dilly larks, moritz seider, jv, raymond, rasmussen, kitty, lyon, etc except for k*ne

edmonton oilers: mcdrai, ofc. nugent-hopkins, nursey, rip vinny & skinny

florida panthers: tkachuk, reinhardt, sasha barkov, verhaeghe (is there still?)

los angeles kings: adrian kempe… kevin fiala… danault… quinton byfield & alex turcotte

minnesota wild: kirill, marat, fleury, brodes, fabes, boldy, moose, middsy, spurge… god’s perfect idiots

montreal canadiens: going out on a limb here to say martin st. louis but also xhekaj (both), slafkovský, suzuki, my austrian reinbacher, yes fine cole caufield

nashville predators: MOST BEAUTIFUL D PAIR IN THE WORLD GRADY SKJEI AND ROMAN JOSI!! juuse, evangelista, isn’t stamkos there and also someone else who absolutely should not be

new jersey devils: nico… tuna (tatar), dawson mercer, siegenthaler, dougie hamilton, yes the hugheses whatever

new york islanders: barzy, zeeker & marty, anders lee, noah dobson lol

new york rangers: mika & chris, lafrenière & k’andre, shesterkin

philadelphia flyers: frosty & beezer and tk and sanny and the new baby michkov and coots and scooty loots and foerster etc etc. you know the Guys

pittsburgh penguins: the two headed monster but also compelled by rutger mcgroarty, and kevin hayes was there!!!

ottawa senators: timmy stü & brady! josh norris! the evolution of shane pinto! ullmark now and brännström and claude giroux and chabot

san jose sharks: ekky, thrun, mario, borde, logan couture, shakir, that other vaguely blond rookie

seattle kraken: brandon tanev, andre burakovsky! grubauer & d’accord also

st. louis blues: jordan kyrou, nathan walker (is still there?), rob thomas? is parayako still there?

tampa bay lightning: hedman, point, they dumped so many guys after the cup run… is kucherov still there or is he in nashville?? anthony cirelli (notable for being made out with by pat maroon)

toronto maple leafs: mitch, jt, willy, alex nylander, kniesy, dewar, et

utah hockey: crouse, keller, tuba

vancouver canucks: quinn, brock, petey, jt, garly, höggy, i want to say dakota johnson, elias lindholm?

vegas golden knights: brandon montour is here now… alex pietrangelo, so sorry to one i can’t remember who loves the lions it will come back to me

washington capitals: full of love and stupidity. oshie, nicke/ovi, pierre-luc dubois, dowd, vrána, milano

winnipeg jets: adam lowry!! josh morissey and kc and morgan barron, also vladdy my beloved

tagging @stillfertile + @colap1nto + @songsandswords + @moregraceful if they haven’t done it yet, i know they follow at least a couple teams. if anybody else wants to play i love adopting blorbos!!