When the fresco Avatar catapult us to the worst of humanity and leads us to fond evolved beings in harmony with nature, it would be intolerable and sordid, local and endearing to do, that noisy boots of economic, social climbers, just cock up this nest preserved . Na'vi to Fontesols, arming our feathers for fouling in juice dust ... 
We, you know them by heart, these entrepreneurs disfigurement of din to swing, destruction crying. We, we know they will not hesitate nice to bitch around if it brings them the hard currency moolah, even destroy the balance of this charming little piece of land. We know, yes, no pretense, because they resemble us terribly when we let go our most venal instincts and spreading the foul materialism ready to take on each other to satisfy his possessive frenzy.
grabbing screaming for all poetry to exist, tsunamis dust to suffocate and die those who resist, as the din of breaking new Not on horizon ... Pandora among ideals Na'vi that happening flooding, but in a corner of the Languedoc, Fontes, a small village in full health threatened by faeces from exploiters career. They would like the bastards, kill the landscape, smells Occitan eradicate the gates of one of the most charming nest of Herault.
So what! Kowtow to serve as a stepping stone to the Fed's ever-more-of-profit innervate or refusal by our mind body of all those who wish to support this significant battle land to the cicadas cons iron nuts? A story on a human scale, some loudly heralds the failing Na'vi to make us aware of the ongoing looting. The beauty of existence begins with respect for the universe that we host. Fontes deserves to swallow this gueulante Rabelaisian appetites of sickening.
De Pandora Fontes, financial speculators to greedy real economy itself, the ominous refrain not conducive to measurement. Well put their snouts deep in their messy excesses that they find, perhaps, their human side, one that grows to close and seal all these boxes of worms.
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