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The grid

Modifié le : 2019/08/08

The Euro­pean vis­i­tor will often be shocked by the sight of the north-Amer­i­can grid equip­ment. One of them often tells me that Mon­tre­al is an African coun­try. I’m prob­a­bly too used to it to see any mis­ery. After all, we’ve been deal­ing with it for at least a cen­tu­ry and it pleas­es the squir­rels who have made it their neigh­bor­hood highway.

I like mate­ri­als, things, machines. With­out lik­ing mechan­ics, I love cars, rock­ets that rise nois­i­ly to the sky, planes that seem to defy any log­ic of grav­i­ty. I am con­quered by human inven­tive­ness. And let no killjoy come here to extin­guish my flame by affirm­ing that all this is arti­fi­cial and will lead to the loss of Man with his great cap­i­tal let­ter. Man is a man­i­fes­ta­tion of nature, we too often for­get it. It is nei­ther above nor below. I have con­fi­dence in the future, even if it will prob­a­bly be with­out us. The won­ders of the uni­verse hide, in their bags, round balls that have not yet been played.

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