The French Connection Election:
Saturday afternoon, The Greek Goddess and I strolled over to the French Consulate on Fifth Ave & 75th Street so that BDI could exercise his fellow Frog voting rights. We were intent on taking a few pictures in order to mark and record the decidedly important occasion. I had determined that my better half should snap the images, as I surmised that it might be a dicey proposition to take photos inside the consulate during the scrutinized voting procedures, an attractive distinguished blonde would likely have a better shot at getting away with it than a thick-headed ticked-off tadpole.
Even worse than I had imagined, moments after she started clicking away, the actual Consule General himself (4th photo on the left) instantly made a beeline toward us, proceeding to tell us, in no uncertain terms, to immediately cease and desist. Furthermore, he sternly asked us to promptly delete the images off the cell phone. Of course, as he was intently watching, I grabbed the phone away from my true love in a scolding manner, and diligently began to delete images. Little did they know, I was an amazingly astute undercover reporter for a highly recognized online publication who was simply deleting a few shots of himself throwing snowballs in central park. (The few adjacent images are all that we got away with.)
Crazed Curious Consulate Caper:
This get’s even more interesting. To put us all in the appropriate frame of mind and focus our intellect on the task at hand, the consulate staff had posted large color posters of all the candidates on the walls of a circular stairwell leading to the large ballroom (turned voting hall) on a floor above. Out of the 11 candidates presenting themselves for the French Presidency, take a wild guess who was missing from the wall? Yep, that’s right, you guessed it, my heroine, Marine Le Pen, was nowhere to be found!
As soon as I noticed the astounding gaffe, I promptly asked those around me; WTF is this? No one seemed to know or have noticed, but they too were rather miffed. Moreover, to my astonishment, upon alerting a few volunteers officiating at the proceedings, these dim wits claimed they hadn’t noticed it and didn’t seem to care in the slightest, much less bother addressing the considerable clandestine cock-up.
To attempt to rectify the totally FUBAR situation, I went looking for my new pal, The Consule Generale de France, so as to directly question him about the grave omission, but conveniently he had disappeared from sight. I tried to track him down, however, at that point, some other person of authority suggested to me that I best move along so as not to disrupt the steady flow of voter traffic. Shortly thereafter, I was asked to quickly get going and gently escorted out of the building under the watchful eye of the attending security guards.
On a more positive note:
Prior to entering the voting booth, we were requested to pick up two presidential character cards, choosing two of the 11 candidates running. Ostensibly, so that prying eyes couldn’t see who you would actually be voting for prior to entering the cramped casting cubicle. Thus, you voted with the ticket that your chosen candidate’s name was on and discarded the other. Well, in my particular booth, on a small shelf in front of me, were about 50 discarded tickets tossed in a scattered pile. I’m quite pleased to report that very few had the name Le Pen marked on them!
The conniving Globalist can blow us……….
What Would a Le Pen Victory in France Mean for Markets?
“It would be seismic, bigger than Trump or Brexit for markets, if Le Pen got into office and called into question the euro itself.” The Wall Street Journal
