It seems that hating people isn’t done any more. That it’s uncalled for and exceedingly vulgar. Patrick Declerck regrets that, as he goes on a journey to New York looking for traces of September eleventh and memories of his own youth, which he spent in Manhattan.

He grabs the opportunity to ridicule the infantilism of the monotheisms that still confuse sexuality with evil.

Did you know that three of the 9/11 terrorists called a prostitution service the night before the ill-fated flight? But they decided it was too expensive. So they hung up…