Requiem for the merged cities of Upper Lake 
Basin and the mouth of the Chicoutimi River, circa 1960. Here on the west bank of the water now partly filled in, that have written the first lines of the history of Saguenay
Death Bear! "What else is there identity jonquiéroise? ", asks the journalist Daniel Côté, in a text published in the Progress-Sunday 22 August, where he deplores, rightly, loss of memory in his hometown that was absorbed into the fatal drift of municipal mergers Enforced by the PQ government of Lucien Bouchard?
"The furniture was saved" concludes Côté consoling himself on some unfortunate cultural institutions that have miraculously survived the sinking. While it is still very insignificant few buildings and a travesty of cultural institutions to mask the edges of the crater it creates in our collective universe, but that does basically the words of journalist cruelly real,
"identity jonquiéroise" was
"lost forever". Indeed! Old Town is
"became a district within a district, [it] only exists in memory of a handful of nostalgic and is no longer" a view of the spirit. " What's more, if not to recall that this result was pathetic, once again, predictable because programmed reduce us to nothing in the national project. Because this part of the larger project of lobotomized Quebec strain has been announced and harshly criticized by some upset and worried minds, minds freer than others who have tried in vain to sound the alarm. Today, the text side demonstrates, history files the first words of his trial and conviction in absentia:
-Here lies part of the founding people, Métis and French Canadian, who died without leaving traces for the benefit of masters stateless, their footmen and those who benefit. Well done for us ! Had become involved, challenge, anger against those who wanted us dead, objecting to the project from those who wanted to make the skin because they had already sold to abroad. Stop crying over our misfortune, a part of this disaster we are collectively accountable.
Chicoutimi, the ghost town cannibalized by his sisters enemy! Side
These words are for me, a cruel relevance. They speak for all other cities foolishly sacrificed in this sad adventure. Precisely, in 1980, anticipating these forced mergers, I started to write the history of Municipalities. With stories of Chicoutimi-Nord, L'Anse-Saint-Jean and Val-Jalbert, I already saw the danger that this precipice of irrelevance politician was digging in for a total recklessness citizen . I knew it had to happen in the next future too, and I told myself I had to shoot during the rescue, many pictures and as soon as possible of these memories alive before they pass away under the leadership of a political regime PQ completely disconnected from our regional reality and without understanding of what a place to live, a community of peoples, an identity memory, an emerging nation.
I, who was then at the forefront of this story that unfolded in the wake of my pen, I remember the many warnings that I made, wherever possible, so that it does not happen .
De Jonquière, La Baie, Shipshaw, Lac-Kénogami, Canton-Tremblay, Chicoutimi-Nord ... Chicoutimi, there is indeed little ten years after this societal breakdown which has reduced the mother-city of Chicoutimi, the great sacrifice of the history, cultural and economic anemia and the vindication of its neighbors who despise him are fools and yet much of the benefits they have gained since the disastrous merger of February 18, 2002. If Jonquière, which is not a party without dowry, has anything to complain about side memory, what should we then think of Chicoutimi, which has become the stepchild of this amalgam poisoned, the big loser of this forced marriage?! I still have the pride of having written when times were required, which should be written so that our children have the memory for our descendants is not subject to the sole memory of immigrants who began take place in the abyss of identity that our intellectual laziness, filth our individuality and our laissez-faire ended up digging.
Saguenay city frozen in a block of gelatin! However, there is, fortunately, my books and authenticity that I have put it, without thinking of my own tomorrow. Since these words were written and in the light of the ink that has not yet dried up, my rejection of human mediocrity has not wavered one bit. To see the lethargy into which were stuck minds of this community, I feel like I live in a huge bowl of gelatin which care if it will take, or melt.
How not recrimination softness of the city council subject to the dictates of one, the feeble nature of these elected men and women who have neither the courage nor the relevance to defend our lost honor, our dignity and our birthright as the cradle of the history of the Saguenay?! Although the weariness of speaking into the void eventually catch me, how not to lament, once again, the effect of sclerosant political career that took root in our city halls and who have not understood that after four, five or six times their money is spent and must give way to others, wishing them better luck.
As animal species that have neither the character nor the will to respond to profound changes, like the dinosaurs that went extinct without anyone will be moved, our people amnesiac is dying before I finished puberty, before he could see his children run in the wheat fields he has planted. It is a misfortune to know and to live, and die a second time to be reduced to the point ...
akakia
THE CRYPT
- I live in a lake, fountain once, become
basin belt power and urinal;
- I live in a fjord lately garden
become desert, land and lacerated nest of vipers;
- I live in a forest, once lung
become paper, circular and claims;
- I lives in a house once joyful
become ugly, sad and fearful;
- I live a story, once fertile
become shameful, dull and faded;
- I live in a country once cathedral
become factory, bank and prison. Russel Bouchard
1999
