Imagine the correspondent, in France, of the distant
It is up to this talented man, insightful but foreign to our Gallic quarrels, to chronicle the last upheavals of French political life.
The man had lunch on Wednesday in one of these Parisian bistros that he likes, one eye on the screen of his laptop to listen to Emmanuel Macron, and the other riveted, in spite of himself, on the heaps of accumulated trash at the entrance to the cafe, and sagging on its bay windows.
How to qualify the presidential service?
"Tons of sentences that mean nothing"
(Mélenchon), and full of
"vacuity" (Marine Tondelier),
"mechanical and dilatory"
(Marine Le Pen), or
and likely to light a
Empty or full, the word of the Head of State?
We must recognize the president, he thinks...
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