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My innate mostly by curiosity driven urge for self-development as a child actually differed little from my current methods of acquiring knowledge, except perhaps in the direction of these inquiries: where I used to torpedo my teachers, parents and friends with worldly why-explorations, I now mainly interrogate my own brain, trying to incorporate newly discovered enlightenments.

I have a strong, not so fond memory of that night almost four years ago, when the prospect of a master manipulator marching into the world ruling white house became the frightful reality we all had to face, the shock of the shredding of the commonly anticipated outcome and of course the unfairness but nevertheless immutability of it all. One could dispute the importance of American politics on French rural life, bien sûr, and with it our personal responsibility for this dramatic spectacle, yet that was absolutely what I felt: a personal responsibility for having altogether overlooked the profound anger that formed the justification for this immense screw up.

We both started searching for these Angry Americans in our extensive circle of like-minded friends and when Ivory found an acquaintance’s acquaintance fitting this interpretation on Facebook, a clamorous heated discourse unfolded that we still talk about, but in a more dismissive, less ideological way: trying to make Trumpkins and Trumpistas feel included and listened to has become unfashionable and rendered plainly pointless incredibly fast. What remained is the virtually insurmountable damage done to our once staunch confidence in the power of modern democracy, with the forthcoming possible reelection of this madman as a superlative specter.

None of the greenery currently thriving at Les Pierres could offer a saner advise to our American friends who are in limbo about their future than The President, one of the two varieties of Clematis we cultivate, allowing it to loosely climb our facade. To ensure that it’ll keep flourishing in years to come, which is only possible on new wood and worked wonders this year, we cut it down to the ground in Spring.

I’m inclined to pray to whatever’s out there to persuade all to listen.


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