Expert compares Trump’s politics to fascism:

Trump: Americans Who Died in War Are ‘Losers’ and ‘Suckers’:

Retired Generel CRUSHES Donald Trump For Calling Fallen Soldiers “Losers”:

Trump’s tweet and fascism:

American Fascism: It Has Happened Here:

Prisonners of wars:


It is difficult today to reconcile family and professional success
You are a woman
The biological clock makes
Tick tock Tick tock

Tight dresses
You’re going to attract seducers
Not a husband
Unless you’re lucky.

Be yourself
Otherwise, you won’t be able to interest
Someone who loves you for who you are
And who will stay with you
Even when you’re all wrinkled up

Be yourself
No need to hide difficulties
Show your qualities

Be pragmatic
Don’t give him any intentions
Do not interpret
Take him as he is
Listen to what he tells you

There’s no point in knowing who’s to blame
There’s no point in trying to be another person
No compromise
Look for solutions that work for both
With intelligence, everything has a solution

And most importantly, when you find him
Or maybe you’ve already found him and let him go
Go get him
There’s only one
Go ahead
Hold him!

Aurianne Or

She was a nurse
At the hospital all the time
He was a merchant
He travelled all the time

And they had beautiful children

So far so good……

Until it lasted more than ten years…

She worked full-time
Except when she worked day and night
He worked full-time
Not counting his travelling
Only three days a week
Only half of his work week

Stress and lack of sleep
Separation every week
Unpaid overtime
Full of pills

The tone has started to rise
And up

And yet, they are smart
And yet, they are better off than others
No need to work after work
No need to poison themselves at the supermarket
And a healthy place

His self-esteem is now quite low
She gives him a hard time
He feels crushed
She has found another one
When he doesn’t work full time
But at least now, she can also decompress
An hour here and there
It doesn’t make you dream
But it keeps you going
Now there are three of them to take care of the children
Not to mention school and TV…

A broken household
Confused children
Confidence lowered
And disputes
That relieve stress
On the nearest person
It’s too late!

Broken household

But the stress came from work
And who’s going to argue with that?

We can’t live without work
Both have to go through it
To be able to barely pay for what they need

If only they knew
They could have discussed
Getting out of the system.

Change their organization
Another job
Another informal job
Create a cooperative
Calling for a vote by popular initiative
Change the country
Live in another country
Another… what?

Aurianne Or

To read this in French:és

Para leer esto en español:

Um dies auf Deutsch zu lesen:überschrieben

Explosion volcanique:ésastre


Oui au référendum d’initiative populaire:éférendum-dinitiative-populaire-sur-le

Histoire de Migros, supermarché coopératif Suisse:


Tomorrow – Chap 3: L’économie:

A well-made video about the UBI to ensure dignity of life for everyone


As a mother of two children, I often end up carrying three pairs of sunglasses — on my T-shirt… It is not that convenient, so, I’ve thought about this little family sunglasses holder. My husband usually deals with his sunglasses, that’s why I’ve created one for three pairs. This is just an idea, this is super convenient for me. Please adapt it to your needs and your bags.

I have used cotton Thai traditional fabric (a) for the outside, another red cotton fabric (b) for the inside and a zipper. The red ribbon is just here to hide some bad sawing.

1. First, I’ve measured what I really needed (17 x18 cm in my case) and added a bit extra for the sewing. Then I’ve made two rectangles with fabric a and two with fabric b. You have to imagine your holder upside down; fabric a is inside and outside is fabric b. Then I measured where I needed to sew and drew a line with chalk. I added the hooks (dark blue fabric + metallic rectangles). I pinned them. 2. I sew  along the chalk lines.

3. I pinned then sew the top of the holder.

4. I’ve finished the piece. I then had a holder for two pairs of sunglasses. I wanted a third one, so I had an idea…

5. I made a lined Zipper pouch (see tutorial below), and then 6. sew it to the main piece.

6. I then add buttons or ribbons for decoration purposes or to hide bad curves or bad sewing.

When you’ve finished yours, don’t tell anybody about what’s wrong, it must be a secret…You have to boast around and be proud of yourself!

How to make a Lined Zipper Pouch (Lined Zipper Bag):

You can also use the glasses pouch as a bag by adding a strap…


There you are!

Flamme à lunettes (English):




– Fiddler on the Roof (musical)

– Fiddler on the Roof (film):


The Fiddler by Marc Chagall, from which the musical takes its name.

Enjoying a foot massage while spending Christmas holidays in Thailand is a must have indeed.

The idea of relaxing rather than being under family pressure is a must have everyone should enjoy. Leslie imagined that, once back to England, all her friends would be mumbling about having spent their Christmas holidays with their families, their hearts parted between the love for the ones who have always been there and the difficulty to spend a few days without insulting them. Leslie knew that emotions towards the ones we love best are not always easy. 

Who were her friends during this celebration? Erupting volcanos? Younger people who don’t manage to be considered according to the real age? Fake Buddhists trying to remain calm and enjoy the moment at any cost? Forced smiling faces? Distorted egos trying to show the family what they wished they could be, but failing desperately…

So why not go to Buddha land and learn how Buddhist really manage to find peace and remain calm? Leslie hoped this trip would improve her relationship within her own family circle. She cared about them so much, she just wanted they did not show that kind of face when they were going back from her place to their home after Christmas. She really hoped she would learn a lot during her first trip to Asia. 

Learn to be herself and enjoy the ones she loved best.

Foot massages would not have been her first choice. Her old back ached and her neck wasn’t moving as painlessly as she wished. So, she first had a traditional oil massage followed by a head massage. She had been in a rather chic place recommended by one of her friends.

Her mind had wandered during the whole session. What will her children think of this escapade? Were they cooking the turkey? Did they know how to cook it now that she wasn’t in the kitchen to help? Oh! Come on. Of course, they knew! How was the reclining Buddha? She was really looking forward to visit wat pho temple. Oh! Funny! She realized she was lying too… A spiritual experience? Not really, these massages were quite … cracking… Not really slouchy. Comfort will come afterwards… Probably… Let’s think about something merry… Oh yes! She will soon be a grand-mother. Alev and his wife were doing their best to have a baby… It will come soon. A grand-mother… Leslie could not believe she would be one. Of course, she didn’t, she wasn’t one yet. Once she’ll see the baby, she will surely fall in love and nature will make it work. 

A few days later, these massages felt like her body had turned into a superhero’s and she went excitedly to visit to the biggest Buddha statue in the world! Leslie felt reinvigorated. She felt young again because of the massages. And of the idea of a spiritual experience in this temple.

How could they have put such a big statue in this temple? Wat pho temple looked tiny —  the aura of the statue was taller than the whole place. She then noticed some paintings on the wall. What were they about? She wished she had a guided tour with some guy explaining the whole thing. And those paper money, flying on strings, that was so cute. They looked like flags supporting the effort of this enormous lying Buddha. It was so big she did not manage to take a picture in which it would all fit. She took two or three and wished there was a trick on a computer to make it one; her son-in-law had explained something about panoramic pictures on Photoshop. Oh yes! Let’s try a panoramic picture. Yes, but she wouldn’t have the back and the feet… Let’s forget about photography and focus on the spiritual experience. 

Well! The weather was hot. She had been given a small bottle of water but felt it would be more appropriate to drink outside. She stood in a corner and stopped moving. She just stared at the statue. It was so imposing. She imagined Jesus Christ comfortably lying down rather than suffering on his cross. The worst joke she knew crossed her mind: it was about a painter advertising for an ironmonger’s nails and choosing to represent Jesus stating: “With Dede’s nails, I’m safely hanging on!” Dede, the ironmonger, thought that Jesus could not be hung with his nails. The painter redesigned Jesus fallen from the cross and changed the text to: “With Dede’s nails, it would not have happened!” In comparison, Buddhism seemed comfier.

She had overheard a couple’s conversation at the hotel, while she was trying not to fall into her coffee (she was jet lagged). They stated that in Thailand, the feet were considered badly and the worst thing to do was to stop a bank note from flying away with your shoe as you would then have one of your feet on the greenback’s represented face of the King. 

The Buddha’s feet were a work of art in themselves. There were so many signs on them. What did they mean? She really felt like the tourist she was. Only grabbing the surface of things. Not understanding the codes.

A mother and a young boy passed in front of her at full speed. The mother was trying to see as much as she could while the young boy was running asking again and again: 

“Is the hotel this way?”

“Yes, darling”, she kept on repeating. 

It reminded her of her son. Alev hated museums or religious places. He always wanted to go home while her daughter was the opposite; always venturing to new places and so exciting about learning new things. She was a journalist now, and her brother was working from home for investors. They had not changed so much after all… But she had definitely grown older… Is this supposed to be a religious experience? Let’s get out of this place and have some fresh water. 

The garden was peaceful and magnificent. She found tranquillity there. She just listened to the sounds surrounding her and forgot about everything she had in mind previously.

Once in Kanchanaburi, Leslie missed the sense of having a Wonder Woman body and finally opted for the foot massage, as she had not tried it yet and as it was supposed to be something special here. The atmosphere was completely different than what she had seen in Bangkok.

After a cooking lesson at On’s Thai Issan, where she had the best tofu Pad Tai of her life and enjoyed mango with brown rice, Leslie posted a few pics on Facebook and asked the super friendly cook where she could have a good foot massage. The cook recommended one — repeating it was clean. It was one just at the other side of the street and she decided to go for an appointment. After she had managed her way to the other side of the street, the cook was waving to help Leslie find her way.

It was a tiny shop. Nothing special about it, at first sight. She went to the door and realized she was on a bridge and some fishes were swimming peacefully below her. Oh! Gosh! Leslie had heard about feet being cleaned by little fishes. Was the pond for that purpose? No, it could not be. Oh! No! She didn’t want to experience that. The spa ones were smaller and black. These were exotic colourful fishes. They were many but did not seem to bother each other. Most of them ignored the others. 

When her son was 6, he loved fishes. Alev would have stood there staring at them for hours, commenting on their moves as if he had been commenting a water polo game. The family had tried to have a fish tank once but the whole thing looked more like a fish genocide rather than a hobby; so, they had to give up after a few tries.

The door swung open and a woman, about her age, showed her the way in, with a nice gesture, a luminous smile and a warm “Sawat_dee – kha.” Leslie felt so good just by mimicking her “Sawat_dee – kha.” There was something in the attitude, in the tone of the voice and in the overall benevolence that made her experience something new. She really had the sensation that she was utterly welcome.

“In… You… in”, the woman managed to say, showing the way in with her forefinger.

Leslie executed this benevolent order.

“You, sit … here”, she instructed. 

There was no other seat to wait anyway. Obviously, the woman knew what she wanted but Leslie felt she had to specify: 

“Foot massage, Kop khun kha.” 

“Yes, foot massage”, the shop keeper replicated.

The woman had a phone call. She then explicated “Ten minutes” showing all her fingers to be sure Leslie had understood. “OK?”

“OK”, echoed Leslie.


“Tea. Kop khun kha.”

Leslie hoped the foot massage didn’t involve explanation about her health condition. The therapist would probably figure that out just by touching her feet, at least she hoped so…

The therapist went on taking care of a man who was obviously enjoying a foot massage session without explaining anything. Leslie concluded that she was the next customer and that she had an appointment in ten minutes. She just had to follow the instructions she had been given and drink her tea. The weather was hot and the tea was surprisingly comforting her. She was so English. A cup of tea and all her problems vanished away. 

She was really startled by one thing. The place was clean, indeed, very simple but very restful — and with an impeccable Wi-Fi-connection. The male customer was relaxing, using his phone at the same time. His place might not have Wi-Fi; so, he might get a foot massage at a place that does! Leslie wondered what he could be doing for such a long time, on his phone. It made him look like he was on his couch, at home. He was, indeed, TOTALLY relaxed. Had it mess up the ambiance for the other people? What did other people think about that behaviour? Was this usual? It seemed Leslie was the only to look at him funny, so she stopped and looked at her tea instead. 

A few minutes later, another therapist arrived. 

“Hello! Foot massage?”, she inquired. 

Leslie understood that the owner of the place had called another therapist who spoke English just for her. How caring! 

People had been so nice since she had arrived. Leslie remembered this family at the car rental who wanted a car seat for their daughter. The staff had understood they wanted a baby car seat but obviously, the seat was too small for the girl. The woman had explained:

“In my country, it is compulsory to have a booster, I don’t know here.”

The staff had replied it wasn’t required in Thailand, she had replied it was fine then without car boosters; but the staff had finally managed to find something looking like a car booster. Once Leslie was driving, and had then seen all these trucks full of people and passengers who slept at the edge of the boots; she realized how well Thai people had managed this cultural gap.

Leslie had to put her feet in water — with no fish in it — and then lied on a reclining chair.

Obviously, the massage included the use of pressure points. The therapist had folded a towel into a syringe origami. Leslie had never seen that! She then gently cleaned her feet into warm water. It smelt so good. The man was then offered some tea. What a nice atmosphere! All her worries were gone, her mind was free of thoughts.

“Mrs? Mrs?” The therapist was trying to attract Leslie’s attention.

“Sorry, what is it?”

“Begin? Go there.”

Leslie lied back and enjoyed the oil being spread on her feet. Focusing on her old body made her realize she was lucky to have such a healthy body at her age. She could do anything she wanted. No health issue.

“Big babies?”, asked the English-speaking therapist.

“Oh, yes, very big babies! Giants! Like their father! I should have been more careful when choosing my husband. My husband too big. My son, 11 pounds at birth.”

The therapist weighed this information and then translated it to the owner of the place. 

“Huge babies!”

“Baby big big!” The two women replied with interest and surprise. 

“And 20 inches! … My daughter, 9.5 pounds!”

Again, the therapist translated the valuable info!

“What! Your babies, big, big! My son, 6.4 pounds!”

And the other one explained how much her babies weighed:

“And hers, 4.6 and 5.7 pounds. A daughter and then a son.”

It’s incredible how this type of conversation is universal… At least for women who have children… At least for those who enjoy having kids; which is the case, most of the time… It is as if the world would stop revolving if they didn’t exchange these paramount, lifesaving pieces of information. After all, babies make mothers and becoming a mother changes life? Well, it often saves it, doesn’t it. That’s why we here for; reproduction. What could be more vital?

“Me, Anong. She, Boonsri.”

“Nice to meet you.” 



“Your babies, Big, good!”

“Yes, Big! Very big! My son was a star at the hospital. Everybody wanted to see him, nurses, friends, everybody!”

Anong laughed and the other woman, Boonsri asked for a translation. They both laughed. Leslie enjoyed hearing the language. How could a language sound so nice, so devoid of malice? She was obviously falling in love with this country.

“You, funny”

“You, very nice.”

Leslie was learning their English at lightning speed, but doubted she would learn Tai that fast. She tried to explain in a very slow and articulate English what had happened with the great-grand-mother of the baby:

My husband’s grand-mother had 10-and-11-pound-babies but nobody believed her. We thought she too old, loose her mind. But when I had giant babies too, my husband and I had to apologize…So I can indeed blame my husband for babies big big!”

After Anong laughed explaining the story, Leslie added:

“You, baby?”

“No … fat!” Anong laughed. “My son is 15.”

“Oh! Sorry”, Leslie felt so sorry and apologized. She then realized she still had baby fat too.
“Me, no fat, baby!” She added with a huge smile.

The three women laughed. 

“Me, grand-mother, soon.”

“Oh! Luck for you! Your baby will have a baby!”, Anong joked.

“That’s literally it!” 

“Will you go and help your daughter?” inquired Anong.

“No, not my daughter. My son and daughter-in-law. And yes, I will go and help them.”


Boonsri wanted some translation here and once it was done she had a huge smile everywhere on her face.

“In my time, no help.” Leslie commented.

“No help?”

“No, no help.”

Anong and Boonsri discussed, obviously considering Leslie’s parents and my in-laws were not worth anything.

“Family was working far away. Could not help.” Leslie defended her family the best she could.

“Oh!” They concluded unconvinced.

“I breastfed my kids but at the time almost nobody did… Bottle… Nurses did not know how to do it with breast. Nobody knew how to do it! Knowledge lost. I had to read books.”

The two women looked at Leslie wondering if she was joking again. Breastfeeding is after all the most basic knowledge a mother should have.

“True story.”

“True story?”

“Yes, true story.”

The two women laughed and laughed again. Were there any other reactions other than smile and laughter in this country? Leslie realized she had not met one single person who was grumpy since she had landed in Thailand. What a fantastic country! She understood why it was called « the land of smiles ». Leslie was becoming jealous of these two women who spent their time laughing and smiling and being smiled at. 

“Why you in กาญจนบุรี?”

Leslie understood the last word meant Kanchanaburi. She did not know what to say. 

“Nature. Beautiful nature. Jungle, elephants, waterfalls.” 

And of course, human nature, but it did not seem neither polite nor proper to state they were an object of study. Oh! he had forgotten the bridge on the River Kwai. Not her favourite anyway…

Since her husband died, three years ago, Leslie’s world had fallen apart. She had realized how few her friends were. She barely dared mention her husband as the spirits would go down instantly. She became depressed and isolated as she couldn’t stand people’s condensing smiles. Even her psychiatrist was treating her that way… Even her children…She wasn’t a mother anymore, she wasn’t a housewife, she was a widow and everybody treated her like that. She hadn’t laughed like that for too long. She was even forgetting her husband. 

She paid her dues and left.

“You, funny,” the therapist concluded before leaving her.

“You, fantastic”, Leslie replied.

And guess what? The therapist laughed, leaving, probably going home or to her own shop; ten minutes away from there.

Leslie went back to her hotel room and checked her phone. She had received a text from her children. “The Turkey is burnt. We miss you.”

What are these new forms of communication. How long has she spent teaching them to say « Hello! » and something meaning « How are you? » 

And what is this message? They miss her cooking, not her. She was just a nourishing mother after all. She shouldn’t have breastfed them in the end. Ingrate children. Not caring about how she is doing during her first trip in Asia. 

Leslie’s husband was the one who enjoyed travelling. Leslie always wanted to stay at home. She had made the plans for the house, they had had it built and she was spending her days cleaning it, decorating it, trying to make it cosy not just for herself but also for her family. Her happiness was there, in this house, with all her memories. But this time she had wanted to travel. Like her husband. She wanted to communicated with him, having fun — not mourning. For the first time in her life, she felt her house was a tomb. She had wanted to escape it. It’s here, at the other side of the world that she felt she was meeting him again; being able to talk about him, laughing, as when he was alive. She wanted to smile again and this would be the place.

She wondered whether she would use her return ticket. Oh yes, she had to. At least she would be needed soon as a grand-mother and also to talk to her children. Unlike her children, she was polite. She wouldn’t leave without explaining.

Once at the airport, she was hungry. Leslie decided she should have a sandwich. She sat down and the waiter told her in a very unpleasant voice that the restaurant was closed. “Heyman!” She thought, “if your restaurant is closed why don’t you put a sign «closed» in front of it.” Never mind, she’ll have a sandwich on the plane. She went away and remembered she hadn’t bought any present for her daughter-in-law. One of those beautiful silk scarf would be perfect. She touched one and it felt so soft. 

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t touch what isn’t yours. It’s going to be dirty”, the shopkeeper said.

Leslie looked at her clean hands dazzled. She would certainly not buy anything from this unpleasant shop. Further away, she had a look at a shop window and made up her mind for a pair of earrings. The shop assistant did not even look at her while cashing her in. What had happened to all these Thai people she had met this last fortnight? She looked up and realized all the shops at the airport were European or American franchises. 

Maybe, the head of these firms should come here for a management training. Thai people are just the same. Under pressure and when following absurd orders, they react just as western people. 

The head should sometimes learn from its base.

These perfect parents on Facebook
Are just showing you a facade;
You can’t act all the time,
You can’t let Hollywood raise your kids.
Confirm to theses clichés
And you’ll just be a victim …
Of intolerance and uniformity.

They’re the flesh of your flesh,
Whether you want it or not.
They’re at the heart of your life
Whether you want it or not.
You can carry them on your breast
Or push them aside,
That’s the only choice you’ve got.

Some want to change the world
So, they don’t want a kid;
Some want to change the world
So, they do want some kids.

They’re the flesh of your flesh
Whether you want it or not.
They’re at the heart of your life
Whether you want it or not.
You can carry them on your breast
Or push them aside,
That’s the only choice you’ve got.

Some abandon,
Some adopt,
Some have an abortion,
And some have an in vitro.
Some are full-time parents,
Some have full-time nannies.
Some just visit the kids once in a while;
Some just watch TV with them;
Some tell them stories;
Some just teach them how to cook;
And some build things with them.
Some come back for lunch;
Some are home-schooled,
Some go to expensive schools;
And some go to boarding school.

So, what is best?
Whose heart is beating faster?

They’re the flesh of your flesh,
Whether you want it or not.
They’re at the heart of your life,
Whether you want it or not.
You can carry them on your breast,
Or push them aside,
That’s the only choice you’ve got.

They know you
Better than anyone else;
They love you,
Just as you are.

They want you
To care for them;
They want you
To love them…
Just as they are.

Accept yourself;
And accept them
Just as you all are.

It’s not a competition,
It’s not a social obligation,
Try your best,
There’s nothing to prove.
In the end, we are just parents.
Don’t force yourself to be someone else.
It’s just about how you feel,
And about what you can give.

With your partner
And with your children.

Accept yourself
And accept them,
Just as you all are.

Even if your best is not much,
They need you.
They only want to hug you,
They only want your love,
Whatever you can give
As long as it is true.

They’ll never need an actor,
Beware, don’t lose who you are.

Trying to understand your kids,
Is the best way to try to understand yourself;
Because they share part of your genes,
And because they mimic you.

With your partner
And with your children.

Accept yourself
And accept them;
Just as you all are.

Trying to understand yourself,
And trying to improve yourself,
Is the best way to improve
The education of your kids;
Because they mimic you
And need you
Just as you are,
With what you’ve got,
Doing your best.

Try to be better than what you can be
Is the best way to crash into
Accept your weaknesses,
And discuss them.
Accept the other family members’ help,
And they’ll be so proud
And happy to help.

And that’s what all the family needs.
Each member making decisions according to who
Each one really is.
Accepting help
Wherever it comes from
As long as it is efficient.

Pay attention,
And everybody will win.
Be proud of your family,
Don’t forget who you are.
You won’t be alone
You’ll come together.

With your partner
And with your children.

Accept yourself
And accept them,
Just as you all are.

Face the truth.
Each member will help.
Everyone will feel better.

Aurianne Or

Je te donne – Jean-Jacques Goldman, Michael Jones:

I can give you a voice, bred with rythms and soul
The heart of a welsh boy who’s lost his home
Put it in harmony, let the words ring
Carry your thoughts in the song we sing
Je te donne mes notes, je te donne mes mots
Quand ta voix les emporte a ton propre tempo
Une épaule fragile et solide a la fois
Ce que j’imagine et ce que je crois

Je te donne toutes mes differences
Tous ces défauts qui sont autant de chance
On sera jamais des standards des gens bien comme il faut
Je te donne ce que j’ai ce que je vaux

I can give you the force of my ancestral pride
The well to go on when I’m hurt deep inside
Whatever the feeling, whatever the way
It helps me to go on from day to day

Je te donne nos doutes et notre indicible espoir
Les questions que les routes ont laissées dans l’histoire
Nos filles sont brunes et l’on parle un peu fort
Et l’humour et l’amour sont nos trésors
Je te donne toutes mes differences
Je te donne, donne, donne ce que je suis

I can give you my voice, bred with rythm and soul
Je te donne mes notes, je te donne ma voix
The songs that I love, and the stories I’ve told
Ce que j’imagine et ce que je crois
I can make you feel good even when I’m down

Les raisons qui me portent et ce stupide espoir
My force is a platform that you can climb on

Une épaule fragile et forte a la fois
Je te donne, je te donne tout ce que je vaux, ce que je suis, mes dons
Mes défauts, mes plus belles chances, mes differences