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Independence of Brittany and why Bretons will never be French: their values, and ours. Fighting for the Independence of Brittany is not only about politics, it is also and above all a clash of morals and values.

The essence of our action comes from this situation. By realizing it, you can understand us. A rejection. France would like to represent the Republic, and some sort of morals. But France is symbols, values, and above all, a reality.

The reality of France. France is Paris, exile of the youth-from-across-the-beltway, Parisians who visit every year their Hick reservation between June and September, fifty trains a day to Paris from Rennes, and two trains per month to Pontivy. France is “Get a job in Paris, it’s easier”, the word “province”, the harmless and simple-minded TV weatherman with a country accent and a poppy on his garment, Paris region license plates in commercials. France is also the hangover from 1981, the Mitterrand years, champagne socialists, the baton right wing, the doobie left wing, corruption, their money years, our jail years, some “Frankiz evit Kabon” on the walls when we were kids, some “Freedom for Breton political prisoners” that we tag ourselves every fifteen years when the shindig starts again. Hey, well, so a “44=BZH” graffiti meets a cop car, and it’s a night waiting outside the police station for those who are lucky, and inside for those who are not. But France is also our cousins who are small farmers eaten away by alcohol, the Agricultural Bank, and quotas convicted for “maladjustment” who will have never watched the Millennium fireworks. France is tractors in always bigger fields and always larger overdrafts at the bank. France is the reparcelling and neighbors who spit in each other’s face for a piece of land. France is also the word “dialect”, the word “prefect”, the word “petroleum”, the word “eco-tax”, and tollgates with 72 cameras.

Hey! France is also the “Amoco cormorant”, this famous bird trying to fly and eventually sinking into its sea of fuel oil. France is also hypermarkets and their huge parking lots, ugly housing estates and the ultimate joy of building the exact same house than your neighbor in the Ker Stuff subdivision. And then the shady Youth Clubs, the suburbs like in the “New Year’s Eve at Bob’s” 1984 movie. And then France is the upstart or the resident Parisian who owns a filthy “Costa Bella Residence” vacation condo in Port-Navalo that you hear about at every family reunion. France is the “Pays-de-la-Loire”, the same old “But what would you do without France?

(…)

by @Lazezu 

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