Future
30 abril, 2021
29 abril, 2021
28 abril, 2021
27 abril, 2021
26 abril, 2021
25 abril, 2021
Coisas que não mudam #568
Em Abril teimam sempre em aparecer os pressupostos "donos de Abril"
Ouvido n'O Governo Sombra por João Miguel Tavares acerca da polémica atitude por parte da associação promotora do desfile de comemoração do 25 de Abril em excluir certos partidos políticos por razões sanitárias:
(... ) O que é hoje o 25 de Abril para a Associação 25 de Abril? É a profissão de muita desta gente… é o emprego destas pessoas. Aliás o Vasco Lourenço com frequência assina os seus textos por baixo como "Vasco Lourenço, capitão de abril". É verdade, mas é bizarro assinar assim… aquilo é o quê? Tu fizeste uma coisa na tua vida da qual te orgulhas muito e isso de repente passa a ser a tua profissão? (…) Há um lado que é verdade... mas o Jaime Neves, que eu me lembre, também era capitão de Abril e o Ramalho Eanes. Às vezes dá ideia que era só a esquerda, ou o partido comunista, ou então a esquerda do PS é que fez o 25 de Abril. Não é nada disso! Foi criada até uma mitologia do próprio MFA. O MFA era um saco de gatos que tinha algo em comum que foi “queremos este senhor fora daqui”… e Deus os abençoe por isso! Agora, nunca houve uma unidade ideológica. Ela foi construída à posteriori…
E basta.
Etiquetas:
Coisas que não mudam
24 abril, 2021
23 abril, 2021
22 abril, 2021
21 abril, 2021
Palavras lidas #467
Solitude
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,—
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,—
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Etiquetas:
Palavras lidas,
Poesia-Poetry
20 abril, 2021
Ditto #474
It is not the absence of love but the absence of friendship that makes marriages unhappy.
--Friedrich Nietzsche
Primavera #130
É a estação das flores... / 'Tis the season of flowers...
... mas ainda não está tudo verde! / ... but not all is green yet!
Parece que estou a ouvir #333
Turn! Turn! Turn!
The Byrds
To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together
To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing
To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rain, a time of sow
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace I swear it's not too late
The Byrds
To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together
To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing
To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rain, a time of sow
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace I swear it's not too late
Etiquetas:
Estações do ano,
Música
18 abril, 2021
14 abril, 2021
Espantos #617
Há mais de três anos a viver em Coventry e só agora me apercebo que o brasão da cidade é encabeçado por um gato bravo!
Three years and counting living in Coventry and only now do I realize the city's coat of arms is headed by a wild cat!
13 abril, 2021
12 abril, 2021
11 abril, 2021
Palavras lidas #466
Jubilate Agno, Fragment B
[For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry]
by Christopher Smart
For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in
his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant
quickness.
For he keeps the Lord’s watch in the night against the adversary.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For he purrs in thankfulness when God tells him he’s a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incomplete without him, and a blessing is lacking in
the spirit.
For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped.
For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature.
For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest.
For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion.
For by stroking of him I have found out electricity.
by Christopher Smart
For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in
his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant
quickness.
For he keeps the Lord’s watch in the night against the adversary.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For he purrs in thankfulness when God tells him he’s a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incomplete without him, and a blessing is lacking in
the spirit.
For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped.
For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature.
For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest.
For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion.
For by stroking of him I have found out electricity.
Etiquetas:
Palavras lidas,
Poesia-Poetry
10 abril, 2021
Numa sala perto de mim #431
Rose Island (2020), tells on the highly unusual but true story of the self-declared Republic of Rose Island. The platform island built six miles off the coast of Italy in 1968, was already in the international waters of the Adriatic Sea... a loophole with non-negligible legal implications. Only the 60s could give rise to such utopian episode. Witty dialogue and the great acting.
09 abril, 2021
Sem título #166
{texto em português abaixo}
At times I find myself wondering what cats may think. The world must be so weird for the little felines who keep a continuous effort to be constantly aware of every element surrounding them, when awake. At times they are so scared of unexpected noises that they run and hide in a safe place. Other times they get picked up from the floor immediately loosing control of the firm ground beneath their paws... when desperate only their claws and teeth can save them, especially if they don't know or trust the person who lovingly picked them up just to caress them.
We humans on the other hand, are enthralled by the little furry creatures even if we acknowledge they are often selfish, deceitful, and at times bitting. Perhaps our fascination for cats has to do with how much they remind us of ourselves. Dogs are so inhumanely docile and kind they are worthy of our unbounded admiration, but we don't see much of us in them. Tiny dogs that behave like cats, are generally irritating maybe because they don't follow the stereotype... prejudice, that indelible human trait, lacking in cats. Possibly our affection for cats is no more than demonstrated narcissism. Surely much has been written about this that I don't have the patience to read. But I digress, after three years of regularly hanging out with a lovely cat I don't own.
For all inscrutable thoughts cats may have, this picture offers abundant clarity: "what a beautiful tail I have!"
Por vezes dou comigo a pensar no que pensarão os gatos. O mundo deve ser tão esquisito para os pequenos felinos que, quando acordados, se esforçam continuamente por estar em constante controlo de todos os elementos que os rodeiam. Às vezes ficam tão assustados com barulhos inesperados que correm a esconder-se num local seguro. Outras vezes são levantados do chão perdendo de imediato o controlo da firme base debaixo das patas... em desespero, apenas as garras ou os dentes os podem salvar, especialmente se não conhecem ou não confiam na pessoa que carinhosamente os levantou e que só lhes queria fazer festinhas.
Nós humanos por outro lado, encantados com as pequenas fofas criaturas, mesmo admitindo que são egoístas, traiçoeiras e que às vezes mordem. Talvez a nossa fascinação por gatos tenha a ver com o quanto eles nos lembram de nós próprios. Os cães são tão inumanamente dóceis e amáveis que merecem a nossa desmedida admiração, mas nós não nos revemos muito neles. Pequenos cães que se comportam como gatos são em geral vistos como irritantes, talvez porque não seguem o estereótipo... preconceito, esse indelével traço humano que falta aos gatos. Possivelmente a nossa afeição aos gatos não mais é que uma manifestação de narcisismo. Certamente muito já se escreveu sobre isto que não tenho paciência de ler. Divago, após três anos de convivência regular com um adorável gato que não me pertence.
Para todos os impenetráveis pensamentos que os gatos possam ter, esta fotografia abunda em clareza: "que linda a minha cauda!"
Etiquetas:
Cronica,
Sem Título
07 abril, 2021
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