This table is in the pure line of my sentimentalism.

Us here at the dawn of this war of Iraq, provoked by the pride of 3 Heads of States, letting predict the largest genocide of this beginning of the 21st century.
On my fabric, I materialize the embargo by this rusted barbed wire, posed by the American government of Bush father, but opened by Bush Junior for better massacring the innocent ones and opening this road which leads to the oil wells, drank single of this conflict.
Family so ambitious that it does not hesitate to cover Moslem burials and Christian women the landscape, on both sides of the road.
The dove of peace itself flees such a conflict, wounded to be able anything to make in front of such a disaster, in the shade of this tank, in the name of the greatest bluff... politico-merdic.
Our contemporaries were not easily deceived, Mr. Bush and Co, as for your search for weapons of massive destruction, or as for your zeal of Jeanne liberator of arc-este of people which, before kill among them, never took you for the virgin of Washington.

THE CONDOR