Tuesday, 19 February 2019

The true horror stories in modern Paris part 105

My update was delayed because life always gets in the way in Paris.  Not least was petty Mme. Landlord harassing me again.  Not directly, but through spreading slander about me.  She still cannot give up the idea of her, the self-addressed epitome of virtue and harmony, preaching me, an ignorant immigrant, a lesson.  It used to worry me until I realized that no one in Paris pays attention.  No one cares about me nor about Mme. Landlord despite her pathetic cry for attention.  So, let her do her worst.  It will only damage her blood pressure.

You might wonder why I stay in Paris despite its obviously cold acceptance.  You may say that many aspects of living in Japan is more advanced and precise.  Yes, but that alone does not constitute happiness.  I have met a couple of Japanese men in Paris that reminded me why I left there in the first place.  Despite the dodgy reception that I received the last four years in Paris, and another 15 years before that in Sydney, I never experience the real sense of defeat because it was natural that the natives would have the obvious advantage over me.  I always acknowledged the priority of the born citizens over me wherever I lived.

However, things turn personal when your own people discriminate you.  Even brutal when it happens in Paris.

To be continued.  I am sorry that today's post is shorter than usual.

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Friday, 8 February 2019

The true horror stories in modern Paris part 104

I was making a move back from Japan to Paris last week-end thus I could not update my blog.  Today I am going to make it up by writing a fairly long post.

As always the writer Christopher left a sage comment on my last post 103 that ‘compensation junkie’ would be stopped one day.  That is very likely on an individual level and the family level.  Even the company taken over by compensation junkies may be stopped albeit it will be more difficult.  However, when the plague spread nationwide…the history tells us it has happened a number of time, other nations will seize the opportunity to invade a self-weaken nation whose people have lost the will to endeavor.  Why would you want to be industrious when a bunch of social moochers are fed free while increasing your burden to support the system?  As a history buff, I read books and articles and found several traits that were common among those compensation junkies:

1)     They bend to the powerhouse like USA or the Great China.  However, to the less threatening people or nations, they become condescending and painfully discriminating.
2)     They would not fight their own battles.  They prefer to abet the powerhouse or whoever that would buy into their victim elaboration to do the dirty jobs.
3)     No respect for women.  Human trafficking by her own father was rife at a time in the history.  Far from fighting to protect their own women, they used women as their currency against the invaders.
4)     Very thin skin.  Over every trivial point their manly but fragile pride is wounded, followed by of course more compensation demands.
5)     In order to conceal the fact that they never took time to work on anything diligently they would claim that their inventions got stolen.
6)     Their own talent would die without ever being tapped in.  It is so much easier to rob the credits from others.

The last trait may be the saddest thing because the world will never know of some beautiful gifts the God has given to the mankind.  I may not be much gifted despite the kind encouragement by the author Chris who likes his book cover that I drew (He is a polite man) but, I wish to spend time on my drawing instead of pursuing Mr. Pride for compensation.  Also I have my mother to look after.  Focusing on her happiness is a much productive way to spend our limited time.  

And…there is Karma.

Nothing gives us more satisfaction than seeing the jerks get their upcommance, but it does not always come in the form of a visible punishment.  The other type of upcommance is ‘to miss out on a bigger profit’.  For instance, our Mr. Pride will get to keep his restaurant from Hell and will not be hit with my compensation claim.  Apart from all the reasons I gave you, the last reason is Mr. Pride's attitude.  His lawyer  insists that the noise test conducted by an huissier that I had to employ was rigged, reflecting his own attitude.  Mr. Pride and Mr. Honour have conspired with the authority to rig their reports.  The young man in charge delayed the noise test for many months until February, the quietest month for any restaurant, on a snowing night when there was no clients, thus no cooking.  I am actually more angry with this officer than Mr. Pride.  Anyway, it would have taken a long time if had I sued Mr. Pride for compensation.  I don't need it in my life.  I prefer to earn money back myself while economizing my expenses.

However, what Mr. Pride does not know is that I knew of a Japanese investment developer who was looking for a venue to set up a very famous restaurant that served the Imperial family in Japan.  If Mr. Pride had dreamt of owning a Michelin starred establishment, this would have been it.  Japanese chefs are darling of Michelin that Tokyo boasts far more Michelin restaurants than most other metropolitan cities in the world.    I also knew of a popular Japanese patisserie who wished to open a salon in Paris.  Even this lesser option would have been much more successful than the current restaurant from Hell.  Either of the two options would have brought ‘prestige’ to Mr. Pride.   Would I make any recommendations?

As one of the top reviewers of one famous food site, I respect chefs.  I give a good review to the restaurants where chefs are treated well because it would lead to a truly good food.  The infrastructure of Mr. Pride’s kitchen that is inconsiderate to their neighbors is not kind to the chefs who are forced to work in the kitchen from Hell either.   So Mr. Pride missed out on this golden opportunity and as the fate would have it, the developer has recently started building a super stylish venue to house this traditional Japanese institution that has stood the test of time for over hundred years in the quartier not so far from our restaurant from Hell.

I live above a Hell, but this is also the best seat to watch how this will all unfold.  Paris is intriguing indeed after all.  I nearly was killed off in an electricity accident staged by the restaurant from Hell, but the last few years in Paris has been the most intense period of my life.

To be continued.
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Wednesday, 30 January 2019

The true horror stories in modern Paris part 103

I am grateful for the encouragement I received that I may deserve compensation from Mr. Pride.  I too would agree that children and the adults whose ability to rebuild their lives was destroyed should be compensated.  However, I have also witnessed the curse of ‘compensation’ on several occasions.

One was this man I met through his grandmother in Sydney, Australia.  As he entered the door a certain heaviness spread into the room. He smiled repeatedly, but meaninglessly which put me on guard rather than feeling warmed by it.  He was frequently hanging around at his grandmother’s place during the daytime without a proper job.  He dressed youngish but on a closer look you would notice wrinkles on his face.  In short, something about him was not right.  His left arm was temporary immobile for he just came out from an accident.  ‘Of course, he needs to be compensated’, said his grandmother.  Peculiar thing was that it was his third accident which seemed to have happened recurrently.  Each time he was paid compensation which enabled him to buy a house despite he was merely a wanna-be-musician surviving on odd jobs, mostly delivery jobs on a bike.  You would think he would be deterred from a job that would expose him to traffic after so many road accidents.  But no, this man just smiled saying, ‘it’ll be all right.’  As I looked into his eyes which was neither innocent nor courageous I felt nauseated.

A year later this man had his fourth road accident, this time injuring his neck.  His grandmother was naturally shaken but as I heard the news I was remembering that this wanna-be-musician had just gotten his long awaited gig cancelled.  Considering his age, it would have been very hard to land another gig.  He was of course filing a lawsuit for a fat compensation.  I may have been wrong to assume that he had become a compensation-junkie, but it is safe to conclude that his music career suffered from his false sense of financial security provided by the compensation money which amounted to more than a person could have earned in a life time.  It deprived him of the sense of alertness that all great musicians have. Drop-dead aura thrives on a sharp mind.  Our Mr. Compensation may possibly have been gifted, but his sense was rendered dull by the choices he made in life.  His grandmother told me that during his first accident he incurred a minor injury, but the level of his damage stepped up with the accidents that followed.  The fourth one damaged his nerve system that he would suffer a certain condition for the rest of his life.  Mr. Compensation became eligible for a welfare payout as well.  There are always women who are drawn to the helplessness of a victim of the circumstances.  As you might guess it, our Mr. Compensation married a woman whose father had money.

You might say, ‘well, Mr. Compensation’s case is unique’, but sadly, the attitude of Mr. Compensation appears to be contagious because we often read of families that take advantage of the welfare.  The curse of compensation escalates to take on a company, then a community and then…

To be continued.

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Monday, 21 January 2019

The true horror stories in modern Paris part 102

I needed to re-publish this because for some reason my past post has surfaced to replace as the current post.  Why does my episode 100 now come after my episode 101?
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I agree with Christopher who suggested that I should demand compensation from Mr. Pride.  In appreciation of his loyal interest in my blog, I wish to explain why I have not yet done so.
1)     It was by my own will to move back to the apartment above his restaurant.  The necessity of insulation work was foreseeable.  Besides, if I received money from Mr. Pride, my self-appointed mission to spare several French tenants from the hellish noise would become smug-ish.

2)     However, I can still demand damage compensation for the time I was being exposed to the inhabitable condition, at a time near-death, which forced me to book other accommodation and the travel fees.  This happened a few weeks after I first moved in, so legally I can demand compensation.  However, I am waiting for the result of the lawsuit initiated by Mr. Pride.  Should the court order the landlords who voted against Mr. Pride out of sympathy for my plight, I will then demand compensation from Mr. Pride so I can pay back the kind-heart landlords.

Thus either way I am not going to receive money for myself from Mr. Pride because the act of demanding compensation will expose my mind to a precarious place where one step in a wrong direction will push me down to joining the Sludge, the victim business players.  Then I will lose far more than the compensation money.  I am not giving you a cliché that ‘one cannot take money to the next world after one’s death.’  I am going to share what I have witnessed, what becomes of the people who received money from one’s enemy in the long run.  No preaching fairy tales, just cold facts as to why only the children or the adults whose physical damage deprived them the ability to rebuild their lives ought to demand compensation in my next post because today I have to report what happened to Mr. Honor as I promised in my last post.

Mr. Honor was a man I once labelled as Goliath who bends justice.  However, I later learnt that he had climbed the social scale by pretending to be the defender of the minorities.  The male version of Mme. Landlord does not fit the title of Goliath because the true Goliath is the one who dominates with his own strength.  (If you happen to read my blog for the first time, please refer to my past posts to find out how Mme. Landlord was capable of getting what she wanted without lifting a finger)  I was appalled, as were my French neighbours, to have discovered how Mr. Honor took over a small part of the French system and bent justice in favor for the Sludge.  

However, a thing happened last autumn which saw the influence of Mr. Honor eclipsed, at least, began to eclipse.  I cannot go into detail here (I hope you understand) but the French neighbours resorted to give their collective support to elsewhere.  It was not the end of Mr. Honor, but it was at least the sign that domination in life may have the expiry date after all, however long one at that.  

To be continued.
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The true horror stories in modern Paris part 100

I shall not bore my readers by sharing how peace came to my mind through choosing to pay the price of living in the apartment above the restaurant from Hell in order to save someone whom I will never meet.  Some of you may even be disappointed that I did not opt for revenge.  But please, give some time to the wisdom of my ancestors which was to give one’s enemy what they want.  Not what they need.  One of the tragedies of humanity is that we do not always want what is good for us.  We often refuse to listen to what we truly need.  We are the worst enemy of ourselves.  I cannot give you the instant result of my decision because it will take time for its effect to surface if you care to stick around.  But there are some signs already. 

I shall start with the managers of the restaurant from Hell.  I did not complain when Mme. Harmonie extended their opening hours to midnight without lowering the music to the detriment of the residents of the building.  She got what she wanted.  However, this arrangement backfired because serious diners stay away from eateries with a long hours whose chef is deemed to be so mediocre that cannot attract diners during the decent hours.  Our restaurant from Hell is vacant during 18:30~20:30 while the nearby restaurants are busy with serious diners.  Some drinkers start dropping in late hours but they just want nibbles.  They will drink talk laugh till late without ordering an expensive dish.  The restaurant from Hell has become a bar in effect except it costs more to run than a real bar.  

The real bars do not need to pay a chef for the long hours and the place is usually cozy small, which translates to ‘less rent to pay’.  Our restaurant from Hell still has to pay the rent for a quite big place.  They often hold private parties with a loud music, which further consolidates the bad image of being a secondary restaurant that relies on music and long opening hours instead of food.  If only they had done the right things like other decent eateries considerate of their neighbors, they could have been more successful.  But it was Mme. Harmonie and her partners who made the ultimate decision to ignore the regulations of Paris restaurant code.

Let this be clear that I no longer want the restaurant from Hell to fail.  I prefer that they stay in our building so that they will not create another hell somewhere else.  There must not be any more victims of the Sludge and their bar-restaurants.  Therefore, I am now glad that I refrained from appealing my lawsuit against the restaurant which legalized their questionable right to run a restaurant.  Victory for them… if they can run a profitable restaurant.  They are bound to Mr. Pride by a contract to keep paying him the rent for 3 to 10 years in Paris no matter how little their profit may be.  However, if the right of restaurant had been cancelled by the court, Mme. Harmonie could have demanded a compensation from Mr. Pride for having failed to disclose my old lawsuit before Mme. Harmonie bought the faulty right.  The compensation figure could have been bigger than the profit she will ever make from her mildly successful bar-restaurant from Hell.

Speaking of Mr. Pride, I shall write how he is doing after my decision in my next post.  To be continued.
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