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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