30 novembro, 2022

Coisas que não mudam #612

Protests for freedom of expression in various contexts:
Germany's first appearance in the Qatar World Cup;
Iran's team protested silently during their first national anthem in Qatar;
a fan invades the pitch of the Uruguay - Portugal game in Qatar
and another in the France - Tunisia game in Qatar;
a woman holds a candle at a vigil in Beijing for the victims of the Urumqi fire;
protests in Beijing against covid restrictions;
a man holds flowers in Shanghai after a vigil for the victims of the Urumqi fire;
protests in Shanghai against covid restrictions.
________

More impressive when done by people who will suffer physical consequences of their actions, or whose loved ones will. Authoritarianism is hard to contest. Good to see there's always someone who resists and says no.
________

(...)

Mas há sempre uma candeia
Dentro da própria desgraça
Há sempre alguém que semeia
Canções no vento que passa

Mesmo na noite mais triste
Em tempo de servidão
Há sempre alguém que resiste
Há sempre alguém que diz não

Sem título #284

Putting everything off...

29 novembro, 2022

Coisas que mudaram #24

The latest on Chinese protests from The Economist

These are stories that need to be told.
________________

What happened to the man who led the chants against Xi Jinping?

The story of the Shanghai protester who shocked the world

Nov 29th 2022
By Eva Rammeloo

When Wang first lifted his arm he was nervous. Then he pumped his fist in the air and yelled, “Communist Party?” The crowd answered him: “Down with it!” Next, Wang shouted “Xi Jinping?” The crowd reacted more tentatively to the president’s name; a few looked round to see the bespectacled young man who had dared to shout it. But they answered: “Down with him!” Wang yelled Xi’s name three more times. Each time the crowd’s response was louder: “Down with him!”

Wang (a pseudonym) didn’t even know that he’d been waiting for this moment. Like most young Chinese out on the street in Shanghai, this was his first protest, aged 27. After completing his shift at a cocktail bar, it had been a quick bike ride to join the gathering. People were laying flowers and lighting candles. Many held up blank sheets of paper, a silent protest against covid lockdowns, to represent all that they wanted to say but felt they couldn’t. “We don’t need to write anything,” one person said. “It’s a symbol of the people’s revolution.” (“Blank sheet of paper” and “white paper” were soon among the many terms censored online.)

“I feel that there is no point in living. This is a philosophical idea, but the feeling is caused by the Communist Party”

The vigil was being held for those who had died in an apartment-block fire days earlier in Xinjiang in western China. The Shanghai gathering was on Wulumuqi Lu – the street, Urumqi Road, which bore the name of the city where the fire occurred. There were rumours that the victims couldn’t be rescued because of strict coronavirus measures: fire escapes were locked and the entrance was barricaded. At least ten people died.

Lit up by flashing traffic lights and the glow of mobile phones, the crowd in Shanghai shouted: “We don’t want to test any more, we want freedom!” At the south end of the street more than 100 people were chanting: “We are all Chinese!” I talked to Wang on the edge of the gathering – he still had his bicycle between his legs. He tried to explain to me that, though the covid lockdowns had made life impossible for his generation, the protests flaring across China were about more than the pandemic.


“We want our basic human rights as citizens,” said Wang. “I’ve been feeling a strong sense of powerlessness lately, that there is no point in living. This is a philosophical idea, but the feeling is caused by the Communist Party.”

Just being a body in the crowd is brave. Mei (a pseudonym) kept her distance from the more agitated protesters on the Shanghai street. The 30-year-old marketing employee in a glitter jacket had been out with friends on Saturday night when she heard about the vigil: “I’ve never seen a real protest in China.”

The Chinese Communist Party portrays demonstrations in other countries as violent and chaotic, something no one would wish for. Any protests that do occur in China are normally dispersed quickly. But on Urumqi Road on Saturday hundreds of officers were lined up along the side of the street, watching (“the police are trying to be nice,” said Mei). When I asked one officer whether the protesters were right to call for change, he smiled and looked away. After a pause he looked back at me: “Mei banfa,” he said – there is nothing we can do.

“If my speech was useful, then I am one step closer to being an ideal Chinese”

Any demonstrations that are allowed to go ahead in China usually concern local issues, and are typically solved by firing a local scapegoat. But it’s hard to think of a scapegoat big enough to pin all of China’s zero-covid policy on. The protests are about more than just covid, anyway. Even before the pandemic the Communist Party had become more repressive. Now, reckons Mei, everyone knows “deep down” that something needs to change, “but they don’t know what it is exactly.”

Mei’s parents are government officials in north-east China; her grandfather supported Mao Zedong. The party has been with her all her life. “But sometimes you feel deep inside that something is off,” she said, bringing her hands to her belly. She reckons her grandfather feels it too: “We don’t talk about that kind of thing. But maybe this protest will have some influence on him,” she said. “Change doesn’t happen right away.”

The young bartender who led the chants against Xi Jinping knows what kind of change he wants. “We want our country to stop being a one-party dictatorship,” said Wang. At around 4am on Sunday he reached home, euphoric. “If my speech was useful, then I am one step closer to being an ideal Chinese,” he wrote in a message on social media.

“Sometimes you feel deep inside that something is off. Change doesn’t happen right away”

The feeling of satisfaction lingered the next afternoon as he served cocktails to customers on the tree-lined street. His mother sent him a message saying how proud of him she was. Then she warned him to be careful.

When police officers came into the bar later that day, Wang still felt like a proud Chinese citizen. The officers were less gentle than those who watched the demonstrations on Saturday night: they put Wang in handcuffs and shoved him into a van. There was no official paperwork for his arrest, a friend of Wang’s told me later that night. After three days, there is still no trace of the young man who stood up.■

Eva Rammeloo is a journalist in Shanghai

images: getty, ap, reuters, yomiuri shimbun

27 novembro, 2022

Parece que estou a ouvir #382

No primeiro dia o Advento, e ainda no mês de todos os santos e fiéis defuntos
_______________

For All The Saints

1 For all the saints who from their labors rest,
who thee by faith before the world confessed,
thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

2 Oh, may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold
fight as the saints who nobly fought of old
and win with them the victor's crown of gold.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

3 Thou wast their rock, their fortress, and their might;
thou, Lord, their captain in the well-fought fight;
thou, in the darkness drear, their one true light.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

4 And when the fight is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave again and arms are strong.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

5 Oh, blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

6 The golden evening brightens in the west;
soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest;
sweet is the calm of paradise the blest.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

7 But, lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
the saints triumphant rise in bright array;
the King of glory passes on his way.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

8 From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Alleluia! Alleluia!

25 novembro, 2022

24 novembro, 2022

Espantos #650

Richarlison no segundo golo do Brasil 2 - 0 Sérvia
provavelmente o mais bonito golo do mundial

Retirado do contexto #408

Se se dá importância, não se vai. Se se vai, não se dá importância.

Sem título #283

Candy floss in the UK, cotton candy in the US

23 novembro, 2022

Parece que estou a ouvir #381

"ready or not here I go" the day before (Brazilian) action at the World Cup
America Latina
Mallu Magalhães

I come from America Latina
I come from a place called SP
I'm mom of a beautiful menina
Paçoquinha e picolé

I was born to be a dreamer
Raised along the Tietê
Ditched around the rivers
Galaxies of my bambolê

Ready or not, here I go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, I must go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, I must go
Parapapapa, here I go

I remember minha nana
Picking crystals from the mud
Till my feet get right in lama
Miçanguinha e jacaré

Seen so many things around us
Someway got to see and taste
Some in fear and some in love
Tatuíra e tererê

Ready or not, here I go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, I must go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, I must go
Parapapapa, here I go

Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, I must go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, here I go
Parapapapa, I must go
Parapapapa, here I go

22 novembro, 2022

Parece que estou a ouvir #380

Yolanda
Pablo Milanés

Esto no puede ser no más que una canción
Quisiera fuera una declaración de amor
Romántica sin reparar en formas tales
Que ponga un freno a lo que siento ahora a raudales

Te amo
Te amo
(Eternamente te amo)

Si me faltaras no voy a morirme
Si he de morir quiero que sea contigo
Mi soledad se siente acompañada
Por eso a veces sé que necesito

Tu mano
Tu mano
(Eternamente tu mano)

Cuando te vi sabía que era cierto
Este temor de hallarme descubierto
Tú me desnudas con siete razones
Me abres el pecho siempre que me colmas

De amores
De amores
Eternamente de amores

Si alguna vez me siento derrotado
Renuncio a ver el sol cada mañana
Rezando el credo que me has enseñado
Miro a tu cara y digo en la ventana

Yolanda
Yolanda
Eternamente, Yolanda

Yolanda
Eternamente, Yolanda
Eternamente, Yolanda

21 novembro, 2022

Palavras lidas #532

A Friend’s Umbrella
by Lawrence Raab

Ralph Waldo Emerson, toward the end
of his life, found the names
of familiar objects escaping him.
He wanted to say something about a window,
or a table, or a book on a table.

But the word wasn't there,
although other words could still suggest
the shape of what he meant.
Then someone, his wife perhaps,

would understand: "Yes, window! I'm sorry,
is there a draft?" He'd nod.
She'd rise. Once a friend dropped by
to visit, shook out his umbrella
in the hall, remarked upon the rain.

Later the word umbrella
vanished and became
the thing that strangers take away.

Paper, pen, table, book:
was it possible for a man to think
without them? To know
that he was thinking? We remember
that we forget, he'd written once,
before he started to forget.

Three times he was told
that Longfellow had died.

Without the past, the present
lay around him like the sea.
Or like a ship, becalmed,
upon the sea. He smiled

to think he was the captain then,
gazing off into whiteness,
waiting for the wind to rise.

Espantos #649

Este ganso é diferente dos outros gansos do Canadá que por aí andam
tem o pescoço menos preto, o peito menos branco e as patas amarelas (em vez de pretas).
curiosamente anda sempre perto do ganso com patas cor de rosa, esse sim de diferente espécie e o único que se mantém por aqui num mar de gansos do Canadá.

20 novembro, 2022

Ditto #531

Well, it’s better to be silent than to be a fool.

--Harper Lee

19 novembro, 2022

Cores de Outono #103

Garça exercendo a virtude da espera
no meio das cores de Outono.

18 novembro, 2022

Sem título #282

On great monsters and giants...

17 novembro, 2022

Coisas bonitas #116

Há arco-íris
e arco-íris
sempre LINDOS!

16 novembro, 2022

Cores de Outono #102

Cores de outono com laivos de primavera...
ou uma árvore muito confusa!

15 novembro, 2022

14 novembro, 2022

Foi neste dia #383 (1940)

Há 82 anos Coventry foi duramente bombardeada
O centro da cidade foi arrasado, ficando de pé muito pouco. Aqui a torre da Igreja da Santíssima Trindade

12 novembro, 2022

11 novembro, 2022

Palavras lidas #531

Myth Dispelled
by Adam Possner

The flu vaccine cannot
give you the flu, I tell him.
It's dead virus, there's
nothing alive about it.
It can't make you sick.
That's a myth.
But if we bury it in
the grassy knoll
of your shoulder,
an inch under the stratum
corneum, as sanctioned by
your signature
in a white-coated ceremony
presided over by
my medical assistant
and then mark the grave
with a temporary
non-stick headstone,
the trivalent spirit
of that vaccine
has a 70 to 90 percent
chance of warding off
the Evil One,
and that's the God's
honest truth.

Parece que estou a ouvir #379

Music by Gustav Holst (1916), Lyrics by Sir Cecil Spring Rice (1921)

I vow to thee, my country
All earthly things above
Entire and whole and perfect
The service of my love

The love that asks no questions
The love that stands the test
That lays upon the altar
The dearest and the best

The love that never falters
The love that pays the price
The love that makes undaunted
The final sacrifice

And there's another country
I've heard of long ago
Most dear to them that love her
Most great to them that know

We may (we may not count her armies)
We may (we may not see her King)
Her fortress is a faithful heart
Her pride is suffering

And soul by soul and silently
Her shining bounds increase
And her ways are ways of gentleness
And all her paths are peace

10 novembro, 2022

Ditto #530

Half the people in Hollywood are dying to be discovered and the other half are afraid they will be.

--Lionel Barrymore

09 novembro, 2022

Foi neste dia # 332


Que morreu Gal Costa (1945-2022)
RIP


 


06 novembro, 2022

Sem título #280

High value...

Coisas que não mudam #611

Apparently the kitchen prayer is well-known around the English speaking world. I have lived half my life in the English speaking lands and finally heard of it today... at last! Made me think busy people (whatever they do) and the time they don't have to do anything else; and also of all the women throughout history, and also presently, that have dedicated their lives to the service of others through cooking, washing, cleaning and shining shoes, among other things. So many. Thank you. 

___________

The Kitchen Prayer
by Klara Munkres

Lord of all pots and pans and things
Since I’ve not time to be
A saint by doing lovely things or
Watching late with Thee
Or dreaming in the dawn light or
Storming Heaven’s gates
Make me a saint by getting meals and
Washing up the plates.

Although I must have Martha’s hands,
I have a Mary mind
And when I black the boots and shoes,
Thy sandals Lord I find.
I think of how they trod the earth,
What time I scrub the floor
Accept this meditation Lord,
I haven’t time for more.

Warm all the kitchen with Thy love,
And light it with Thy peace
Forgive me all my worrying and make
My grumbling cease.
Thou who didst love to give men food,
In room or by the sea
Accept this service that I do,
I do it unto Thee.

05 novembro, 2022

Caprichos #396

Rosie the neighbourhood tuxedo cat
meows at passersby if pay her some attention
and turns repeatedly to get all around cuddles
also sits and stares around so we admire her beauty
and even walks you along for a bit until she finds something else to do.

02 novembro, 2022

Coisas que não mudam #610

Em Dia de Fiéis Defuntos...
_________

Santo Ambrósio (c. 340-397)
bispo de Milão, doutor da Igreja
Sobre a morte de seu irmão, I, 70-71

«Porque choras?» (Jo 20,13)

Que chorem os que não têm a esperança da ressurreição; não é a vontade de Deus que lhes tira essa esperança, mas a dureza daquilo em que acreditam. Tem de haver uma diferença entre os servos de Cristo e os pagãos. E essa diferença é a seguinte: estes choram os seus julgando-os mortos para sempre; desse modo, não conseguem pôr fim às suas lágrimas, não encontram descanso para a tristeza. [...] Mas para nós, servos de Deus, a morte não é o fim da existência, mas apenas o fim da nossa vida. Dado que a nossa existência será restaurada por uma condição melhor, que a chegada da morte varra portanto todas as lágrimas. [...] Os nossos mortos não foram enviados para longe de nós, mas apenas antes de nós; a morte não os tragará, a eternidade recebê-los-á.

Palavras lidas #530

I’d Rather be the Father
by Faith Shearin

Right from the start, it’s easier to be the father: no morning
nausea, no stretch marks. You can wait outside the

delivery room and keep your clothes on. Notice how
closely the word mother resembles smother, notice

how she is either too strict or too lenient: wrong for giving up
everything or not enough. Psychology books blame her

for whatever is the matter with all of us while the father
slips into the next room for a beer. I wanted to be

the rational one, the one who told a joke at dinner.
If I were her father we would throw a ball across

the lawn while the grill fills with smoke. But who
wants to be the mother? Who wants to tell her what

to wear and deliver her to the beauty shop and explain
bras and tampons? Who wants to show her what

a woman still is? I am supposed to teach her how to
wash the dishes and do the laundry only I don’t want

her to grow up and be like me. I’d rather be the father
who tells her she is loved; I’d rather take her fishing

and teach her to skip stones across the lake of history;
I’d rather show her how far she can spit.

01 novembro, 2022

Ditto #529

Historical sense and poetic sense should not, in the end, be contradictory, for if poetry is the little myth we make, history is the big myth we live, and in our living, constantly remake.

--Robert Penn Warren