downplaying: ((( red hues )))
Claude Bérubé ([personal profile] downplaying) wrote2014-01-07 05:41 pm
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(( FIC / LOG : jezebel ))


March 19th, 2011.

This is what Purgatory must be like, Vincent. It isn't quite Hell (yet), but everyone still wants to get the fuck out. And who can blame them? The death count of the rocket attack the other day, as you've probably heard, has reached 30. The UN has been magnanimous this time and called it a crime against humanity, but otherwise continues to do absolutely nothing of impact on the conflict. Thousands are fleeing Abidjan – at this point, it’s like watching a mass migration. People like cattle in the streets, carrying only the barest necessities with them, little children in hand. All heading in the same direction. Out. The Hell out.

I’m staying with dad and Tannella, their neighbourhood still largely untouched, although all their neighbours seem to be more sensible people than my old man and are planning to go away until the storm has worn off. The Ivory Coast may have changed since the 80s, but my old room hasn’t, hasn’t changed one bit since that time when I left Dakar for Paris, so it’s somewhat of a trip down memory lane. I’d probably have enjoyed it, feeling mid-20s once more, had the circumstances been different. Shame that I’m here to cover a civil war. You’d tell me life sucks that way, wouldn’t you? Then, we’d fuck up some vertical surface and everything would be well in the world anyway.

Next time, I’m bringing you with me. You need to get your hands dirty again.


P.s. As per usual, I’ve included the contact info of my supervisor at Le Monde and listed you as my next of kin with the French Embassy. They’ll contact you, if anything happens to me.

justcrywolf: (pretty much Educated)

[personal profile] justcrywolf 2014-01-07 05:22 pm (UTC)(link)

March 19th, 2011.

Sure. Life sucks that way.

In all honesty, though, I’m feeling quite devoid without your company, Claude. Keeping an eye on Le Monde in case you write something interesting – I’m sure they could use a wake-up call or two in the UN, if we assume they’re worldly enough to read a fucking newspaper once in a while. Sometimes, I have my doubts. They’re busy queuing up by the sink, washing their dirty hands.

I’m grateful you didn’t bring me with you. I’m a pacifist, you know. I’d end up cowering in some hole with a monkey. I’d love to see the change that’s sure to come, though, gradual as it may have to be. A month and a half and they’ll be out of soap in UN bathrooms all over. You’ll be happy to know that I’ve made a betting pool at work, by the way, since you refused to humour me. When you get back, we’ll be rich!

Snap a picture of a zebra and send it to me. Or even better, a picture of you. Specific parts of you.

- Vincent.

P.s. Be careful.
justcrywolf: (read my lips margarita)

[personal profile] justcrywolf 2014-01-07 09:20 pm (UTC)(link)

March 30th, 2011.

So. The UN has finally realised that ‘peacekeeping’ is a somewhat problematic endeavor when you’re simultaneously hoping to put your fat arse on the victory podium. Novel concept, that. I hope you’ve kept your promise, darling. Duékoué has been burning for hours, I hear, and no one cares whether or not some white, French fuckhead got himself bombed whilst scribbling about it. If you did, I want you to know that it’s a stupid fucking way to go. But a true journalist wouldn’t have it any other way, right?

This week, we’ve managed to secure a deal with the LSP. Who the fuck knew? They’ve decided that they need consultative advice for some of their younger party members and I can’t disagree, what with Monsieur Leon’s recent comment to the press. You haven’t read it, I guess. With rockets raining down from above, I know I’d be otherwise occupied. Here’s the quote, for your benefit:

“The war in West Africa’s Ivory Coast isn’t really – I mean, we’re already spending millions on development aid and come on, we’re a small country. We have our own – we need to take care of ourselves too, you know? But it's just like our government not to know when to draw a line in the sand. Enough's enough!”

Clap fucking clap. When the fucking neo-liberalists are more intent on sending aid than a left-wing party, you really have to scratch your head a bit.

- Vincent.

Ps. Write me. Now.
Edited 2014-01-07 21:20 (UTC)
justcrywolf: (4)

[personal profile] justcrywolf 2014-01-08 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)

April 1st, 2011

Having just finished a meeting with Stéphane Potos, I’m feeling oddly torn between appreciating the in-existence of machine guns in my office (as should he, honestly) – and wanting just a slice of your story. I know, I know. It’s war, you might end up with PTSD, people have died. But a part of me can’t help it, Claude. I’m jealous of you. As they say on every shitty TV drama: what a scoop! What a fucking scoop. The worst thing I’ve ever covered was German and that in itself sets a certain limit on excitability.

As per usual, though, I’m allergic to blood and gore. Thus, it’s a life of greedy politicians and powdered hand-shakes for me, whereas you…

I’m tempted to call Le Monde and ask them what sort of protection they supplied you with when they chose to send you into a city on the verge of a massacre. It’s fucking irresponsible. Or I could ask the Embassy instead – or even better, have Monsieur Leon redeem himself by asking the press.

We all know Luxembourg needs another reason to laugh at France.

- Vincent.

Ps. Come the fuck home, Claude.
Edited 2014-01-08 19:31 (UTC)
justcrywolf: (6)

[personal profile] justcrywolf 2014-01-10 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)

April 4rd, 2011.

There’ll be hot coffee and a really enthusiastic bed when you come home. Just thought it needed saying.

As for news about Abidjan, I’ve stopped following along. I know what comes next – it’s always the same, history’s seen it happen so many times it doesn’t hold much excitement anymore. In short: the Africans have all lost the game to some degree because greed writes the agenda every time. Thank God we’re all rich here in Europe, right?

I went out clubbing yesterday. Felt lonely without you, it’s a big house with no one around but a couple of fat cats. It was a very boring experience, though. Imagine my shock when I realised that pretty much no one gives a fuck about some old, wrinkly queer who orders bourbon on the rocks. Had to leave town with only two, measly offers of free sex and a phone number someone stuffed in my pocket when I wasn’t looking. So I can’t even brag about turning groups and flocks of hungry gay men away – it just didn’t happen.

You know I could spin that shit and make it work. I can’t imagine it would take much to fabricate a story to go with the empty accusations, either. Surely, Le Monde has made similar transgressions before; underestimated a crisis situation for lack or want of sufficient research. Besides, I bet they’re homophobic, too. They probably wanted you to get killed, Claude. I could go on. It would be thin ice, sure, but people will think themselves fucking divine if they’re allowed to fantasize.

And fine, I won't.

- Vincent.