The opposite of lost

The Opposite of Lost

This poster from Portland, Oregon, has a poignant message of a confused political nature:  “Don’t try to find me. I have finally escaped my ‘master’s’ wicked clutches. To the others I say: ‘Join me.  Bite the hand that feeds you. Vive la liberté.'”  Signed–Pierre.

It sounds like the ‘master,’ a fellow human, feels he’s been had by this intelligent-looking standard poodle named, with Gallic flair, Pierre.

Maybe I’m becoming obsessed with a certain novel, but this reminds me of the man seen in volume two of Hugo’s Les Misérables (yes, we’re still reading it in my class), seen strolling about the Luxembourg gardens with his son on June 6, 1832.  He shivers at the sight of “anarchy” (hungry little children hiding in the bushes), and instructs his pudgy youngster to throw an unwanted brioche to the swans floating about in the lake. He tells his son, “Sois humain.   Il faut avoir pitié des animaux” (2:607). For Hugo, this is a kind of lame parallel–cruelty to humans, kindness to animals. Irony does not really suit Hugo.

I hope the Portland poster is an innocent, if bizarre, attempt at irony and that Pierre has been found and brought home by now. Otherwise, he’s probably been hit by a car. Such heroism is futile in ways that the Amis de l’ABC would not have appreciated!

Thanks to fellow revolution enthusiast, Laura Haigwood, for the pic.




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