<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836</id><updated>2012-02-16T08:45:05.491Z</updated><category term='Política e Democracia'/><category term='Política Internacional'/><category term='Economia e Sociedade'/><category term='colonialismo'/><category term='Sociedade'/><category term='Tratado Europeu'/><category term='As minhas leituras'/><category term='Literatura'/><category term='Economia e Sociedade; Socialismo ou Barbárie'/><category term='Viagens'/><category term='stephen vizinczey'/><category term='Poesia'/><category term='Estrolábio'/><category term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><category term='Liszt'/><category term='Literatura; Crítica Literária'/><category term='Socialismo ou Barbárie'/><category term='Frases'/><category term='pablo neruda'/><category term='gilbert keith chesterton'/><category term='Sesimbra'/><category term='graciliano ramos'/><category term='lusofonia'/><category term='Os nossos políticos'/><category term='nativos americanos'/><category term='Férias'/><category term='edgar allan poe'/><category term='literatura brasileira'/><category term='Neo-Realismo'/><category term='Comentário do dia a dia'/><category term='Artes Plásticas'/><category term='Serviços Públicos'/><category term='Ecologia'/><category term='Literatura; um trecho notável'/><category term='Cinema'/><category term='Leitura; Um jornal notável'/><category term='Gente Gira; Desporto; Estrolábio'/><category term='Charlie Chaplin'/><category term='fiama hasse pais brandão'/><category term='Sinbad'/><category term='Política'/><category term='África'/><category term='Música'/><category term='Ecologia e Ambiente'/><category term='História'/><category term='crónica literária'/><category term='Saúde'/><category term='Teatro'/><category term='Pessoal'/><category term='Filosofia'/><category term='Amigos'/><category term='Vidas Lusófonas'/><category term='Gente Gira'/><category term='Crítica Literária'/><category term='Pintura'/><title type='text'>obarcodesinbad</title><subtitle type='html'>Local para colocar as minhas ideias, e trocá-las com outros, sobre os mais variados assuntos.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>119</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4847130185815319966</id><published>2011-12-31T17:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-12-31T17:48:24.237Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pablo neruda'/><title type='text'>Morre lentamente quem não viaja, por Pablo Neruda</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-boWSC9YGDMU/Tv9KuURLpyI/AAAAAAAAAPU/l9D4VSlxXqw/s1600/Pablo_Neruda_profile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-boWSC9YGDMU/Tv9KuURLpyI/AAAAAAAAAPU/l9D4VSlxXqw/s320/Pablo_Neruda_profile.jpg" width="241" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="ecxgmail_quote"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Morre lentamente quem não  viaja,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Quem não lê,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Quem não ouve  música,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Quem destrói o seu amor-próprio,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;  &amp;nbsp;Quem não se deixa ajudar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Morre lentamente quem se  transforma escravo do hábito,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Repetindo todos os dias o mesmo  trajecto,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Quem não muda as marcas no supermercado,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;  &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;não arrisca vestir uma cor nova,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;não conversa com quem  não conhece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Morre lentamente quem evita uma  paixão,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Quem prefere O "preto no branco"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;E  os "pontos nos is" a um turbilhão de emoções indomáveis,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;  &amp;nbsp;Justamente as que resgatam brilho nos olhos,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Sorrisos e  soluços, coração aos tropeços, sentimentos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Morre  lentamente quem não vira a mesa quando está infeliz no trabalho,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;  &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Quem não arrisca o certo pelo incerto atrás de um sonho,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;  &amp;nbsp;Quem não se permite,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Uma vez na vida, fugir dos conselhos  sensatos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Morre lentamente quem passa os dias  queixando-se da má sorte ou da Chuva incessante,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Desistindo de  um projecto antes de iniciá-lo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;não perguntando sobre um  assunto que desconhece&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;E não respondendo quando lhe indagam o  que sabe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Evitemos a morte em doses suaves,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;  &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Recordando sempre que estar vivo exige um esforço muito maior do que  o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Simples acto de respirar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Estejamos vivos,  então!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4847130185815319966?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4847130185815319966/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4847130185815319966' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4847130185815319966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4847130185815319966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2011/12/morre-lentamente-quem-nao-viaja-por.html' title='Morre lentamente quem não viaja, por Pablo Neruda'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-boWSC9YGDMU/Tv9KuURLpyI/AAAAAAAAAPU/l9D4VSlxXqw/s72-c/Pablo_Neruda_profile.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1938869330381540142</id><published>2011-11-30T00:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-11-30T00:39:14.538Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gilbert keith chesterton'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crónica literária'/><title type='text'>Um livro que eu li - "The Man who was Thursday", de G. K. Chesterton</title><content type='html'>A semana passada, vinha no avião de Madrid (dia 22 de Dezembro) conclui a leitura de &lt;i&gt;The Man who was Thursday&lt;/i&gt;, de Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874 - 1936). Dirão: que lugar para acabar de ler um livro! Mas foi o que aconteceu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7jOPrraGYAs/TtV3CJnYBEI/AAAAAAAAAPI/wrw4u8HJQrQ/s1600/GK+CHESTERTON.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7jOPrraGYAs/TtV3CJnYBEI/AAAAAAAAAPI/wrw4u8HJQrQ/s1600/GK+CHESTERTON.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O livro teve a sua primeira publicação em 1908. A edição que li é a da Penguin Red Classic, de 2007. Tem um poema à entrada a dedicar o livro a Edmund Clerihew Bentley, outro escritor que creio ter ficado conhecido como E. C. Bentley. Ao fim do livro foi anexado um extracto de um artigo do autor, publicado no Illustrated London News em 13 de Junho de 1936, véspera da sua morte. Nesse extracto, Chesterton recorda a importância do título de um livro, e que o título deste é, na realidade, &lt;i&gt;The Man who was Thursday: a Nightmare.&lt;/i&gt; Posto isto, trata-se de uma obra tremenda, extremamente irónica, com uma crítica demolidora ao activismo político. Sobretudo ao activismo em moldes de sociedades secretas. E, claro, à perseguição que a polícia lhes faz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Convém não esquecer as propensões religiosas e políticas do autor, que obviamente descria das ideias mais revolucionárias e da natureza das pessoas. O seu fantástico sentido de humor permite-lhe tornear algumas dificuldades, como por exemplo na cena na aldeia francesa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1938869330381540142?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1938869330381540142/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1938869330381540142' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1938869330381540142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1938869330381540142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2011/11/um-livro-que-eu-li-man-who-was-thursday.html' title='Um livro que eu li - &quot;The Man who was Thursday&quot;, de G. K. Chesterton'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7jOPrraGYAs/TtV3CJnYBEI/AAAAAAAAAPI/wrw4u8HJQrQ/s72-c/GK+CHESTERTON.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3686161751774190112</id><published>2011-10-21T11:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T11:55:45.652+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fiama hasse pais brandão'/><title type='text'>Linha Inquebrável, de Fiama Hasse Pais Brandão  (1938 - 2007)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LgY0akrc5HE/TqFMf19JjqI/AAAAAAAAAPA/PDXyNUyRLHI/s1600/fiama1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LgY0akrc5HE/TqFMf19JjqI/AAAAAAAAAPA/PDXyNUyRLHI/s1600/fiama1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;O plátano, o poço, em cada reino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;são a mediação do húmido e da flora.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Uma horda invade, o vento absorve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;a folha digitada: mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;que, à beira, oferece o gládio ao próximo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;ao alheio; o huno vence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;o huno; o cuteleiro cria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;o símbolo inox; habitam, habita-se as arcas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;que o inverno transmutou em hastes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Que boca sustentar entre esta mina funda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;e o omnívoro rebento?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Que procriar, num espaço com dois pólos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;poço, plátano e a atracção fono-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;gráfica: ouves a terra com os pilares de hélio,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;com um reino e o habitante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;sem o nexo. No magro inverno o espólio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;é o ventre (de palavras) dourado nesta tarde em&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;que nada é vão&lt;/i&gt;. E o vão está cavado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;em poliester.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3686161751774190112?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3686161751774190112/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3686161751774190112' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3686161751774190112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3686161751774190112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2011/10/linha-inquebravel-de-fiama-hasse-pais.html' title='Linha Inquebrável, de Fiama Hasse Pais Brandão  (1938 - 2007)'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LgY0akrc5HE/TqFMf19JjqI/AAAAAAAAAPA/PDXyNUyRLHI/s72-c/fiama1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6913469763910560445</id><published>2011-07-15T16:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T16:49:32.237+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Liszt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sesimbra'/><title type='text'>Liszt em Sesimbra</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQZtYZypDnI/TiBg1P73dNI/AAAAAAAAAO8/Wu4jBDc5GfY/s1600/Sesimbra+-+Liszt+e+a+sua+obra.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQZtYZypDnI/TiBg1P73dNI/AAAAAAAAAO8/Wu4jBDc5GfY/s320/Sesimbra+-+Liszt+e+a+sua+obra.bmp" width="232" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6913469763910560445?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6913469763910560445/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6913469763910560445' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6913469763910560445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6913469763910560445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2011/07/liszt-em-sesimbra.html' title='Liszt em Sesimbra'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQZtYZypDnI/TiBg1P73dNI/AAAAAAAAAO8/Wu4jBDc5GfY/s72-c/Sesimbra+-+Liszt+e+a+sua+obra.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6338431978932691338</id><published>2011-07-13T18:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T18:43:47.764+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sinbad'/><title type='text'>A Segunda Viagem de Sinbad - When it was the Five Hundred and forty-fifth night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;She said, it hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;the Seaman continued his relation of what befel him in the&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype w:st="on"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;Mountain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt; of &lt;st1:placename w:st="on"&gt;Diamonds&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;, and informed them that the merchants&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;cannot come at the diamonds save by the device aforesaid. So,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;when I saw the slaughtered beast fall (he pursued) and bethought&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;me of the story, I went up to it and filled my pockets and shawlgirdle&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;and turband and the folds of my clothes with the choicest&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;diamonds ; and, as I was thus engaged, down fell before me another&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;great piece of meat Then with my unrolled turband and lying&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;on my back, I set the bit on my breast so that I was 'hidden by&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;the meat, which was thus raised above the ground Hardly had I&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;gripped it, when an eagle swooped down upon the flesh and,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;seizing it with his talons, flew up with it high in air and me clinging thereto, and ceased not its flight till it alighted on the head of one of the mountains where, dropping the carcass he fell to rending 20 AIf Laylak wa Laylah.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;It ; but, behold, there arose behind him a great noise of shouting&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;and clattering of wood, whereat the bird took fright and flew away.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;Then I loosed off myself the meat, with clothes daubed with blood&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;therefrom, and stood up by its side ; whereupon up came the&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;merchant, who had cried out at the eagle, and seeing me standing&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;there, bespoke me not, but was affrighted at me and shook with&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;fear. However, he went up to the carcass and turning it over,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;found no diamonds sticking to it, whereat he gave a great cry and&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;exclaimed, "&lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;Harrow&lt;/st1:place&gt;, my disappointment ! There is no Majesty&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;and there is no Might save in Allah with whom we seek refuge&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;from Satan the stoned !&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;" And he bemoaned himself and beat&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;hand upon hand, saying,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;Alas, the pity of it ! How cometh&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;this ?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;" Then I went up to him and he said to me,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;" Who art&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;thou and what causeth thee to come hither ?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;" And I,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;" Fear not,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;I am a man and a good man and a merchant. My story is a&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;wondrous and my adventures marvellous and the manner of my&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;coming hither is prodigious. So be of good cheer, thou shalt&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;receive of me what shall rejoice thee, for I have with me great&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;plenty of diamonds and I will give thee thereof what shall suffice&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;thee ; for each is better than aught thou couldst get otherwise. So&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;fear nothing." The man rejoiced thereat and thanked and blessed&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;me ; then we talked together till the other merchants, hearing me'&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;in discourse with their fellow, came up and saluted me ; for each&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;of them had thrown down his piece of meat. And as I went off&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;with them I told them my whole story, how I had suffered hardships&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;at sea and the fashion of my reaching the valley. But I&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;gave the owner of the meat a number of the stones I had by me,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;so they all wished me joy of my escape, saying,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;" By Allah a new&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;life hath been decreed to thee, for none ever reached yonder&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;valley and came off thence alive before thee ; but praised be Allah&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;for thy safety!" We passed the night together in a safe and&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;pleasant place, beyond measure rejoiced at my deliverance from&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;the &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype w:st="on"&gt;Valley&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;  of &lt;st1:placename w:st="on"&gt;Serpents&lt;/st1:placename&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; and my arrival in an inhabited land ; and&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;on the morrow we set out and journeyed over the mighty range&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;of mountains, seeing many serpents in the valley, till we came to&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;.a fair great island, wherein was a garden of huge cam ohor trees&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;under each of which an hundred men might take shelter. When&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;the folk have a mind to get camphor, they bore into the upper&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;part of the bole with a long iron ; whereupon the liquid camphor,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;which is the sap of the tree, floweth out and they catch it in&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;vessels, where it cmcreteth like gum; but, after this, the tree&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman. 31&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;dieth and becometh firewood.1 Moreover, there is in this island a&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;kind of wild beast, called "Rhinoceros," 2 that pastureth as do&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;steers and buffalos with us ; but it is a huge brute, bigger of body&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;than the camel and like it feedeth upon the leaves and twigs of&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;trees. It is a remarkable animal with a great and thick horn, ten&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;cubits long, amiddleward its head ; wherein, when cleft in twain,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;is the likeness of a man. Voyagers and pilgrims and travellers&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;declare that this beast called " Karkadan "&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;will carry off a great elephant on its horn and graze about the island and the sea-coast&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;therewith and take no heed of it, till the elephant dieth and its fat,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;melting in the sun, runneth down into the rhinoceros's eyes and&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;blindeth him, so that he lieth down on the shore. Then comes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;the bird Rukh and carrieth off both the rhinoceros and that which&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;is on its horn to feed its young withal. Moreover, I saw in this&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;island many kinds of oxen and buffaloes, whose like are not found&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;in our country. Here I sold some of the diamonds which I had&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;by me for gold dinars and silver dirhams and bartered others for&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;the produce of the country ; and, loading them upon beasts of&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;burden, fared on with the merchants from valley to valley and&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;town to town, buying and selling and viewing foreign countries&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;and the works and creatures of Allah, till we came to Bassorahcity,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;where we abode a few days, after which I continued my*&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-autospace: none;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;journey to &lt;st1:place w:st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city w:st="on"&gt;Baghdad&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;. And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Courier; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: Courier;"&gt;day and ceased to say her permitted say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6338431978932691338?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6338431978932691338/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6338431978932691338' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6338431978932691338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6338431978932691338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2011/07/segunda-viagem-de-sinbad-when-it-was.html' title='A Segunda Viagem de Sinbad - When it was the Five Hundred and forty-fifth night'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3557121129890562244</id><published>2011-03-07T02:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-03-07T02:03:15.731Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='literatura brasileira'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graciliano ramos'/><title type='text'>Um livro que eu li - "S. Bernardo", de Graciliano Ramos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-allvC4zwC0w/TXQ8uidpIQI/AAAAAAAAAO4/aPSHmId0eag/s1600/graciliano_ramos.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-allvC4zwC0w/TXQ8uidpIQI/AAAAAAAAAO4/aPSHmId0eag/s1600/graciliano_ramos.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Graciliano Ramos&lt;/b&gt; (1892 - 1953), escritor brasileiro, natural de Quebrângulos, no estado de Alagoas. Começou por ser comerciante, e escrever para jornais. &lt;i&gt;São Bernardo&lt;/i&gt; terá sido o seu primeiro romance de sucesso. &amp;nbsp;Foi publicado em 1934. Anteriormente tinha escrito &lt;i&gt;Caetés&lt;/i&gt; (1933), onde se sente, ao que parece as leituras de Eça de Queirós. Depois escreveu Angústia (1936), e Vidas Secas (1938), o seu romance mais famoso. Escreveu ainda &lt;i&gt;Histórias de Alexandre&lt;/i&gt; (1944), &lt;i&gt;Insónia&lt;/i&gt; (1947), um livro de contos, e ainda dois livros de memórias, &lt;i&gt;Infância&lt;/i&gt; (1945) e &lt;i&gt;Memórias do Cárcere&lt;/i&gt; (1953).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Acabei de ler São Bernardo no sábado passado, dia 5 de Março. É um romance interessantíssimo, contado na primeira pessoa, por Paulo Honório, um indivíduo de cerca de cinquenta anos, de origem humilde, que à custa de muito esforço, e poucos escrúpulos, se consegue alcandorar a fazendeiro importante na sua terra. Um casamento com uma senhora pobre, mas com uma educação superior é um fracasso, que acaba com o suicídio da esposa. As crises políticas e económicas dão cabo da sua fortuna, e o Paulo Honório, talvez por se sentir um ignorante, e querer ultrapassar essa situação, ou por querer mostrar que percebe os erros que cometeu, resolve contar a sua história. O resultado é admirável. A reconstituição da vida do Nordeste é fortíssima, atingindo uma grande vitalidade. A construção do enredo, a linguagem utilizada estão muito apropriadas. Dizem que Graciliano Ramos se afastou neste romance da influência de Eça de Queirós, e se integrou nas tradições do romance brasileiro, com destaque para Machado de Assis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Li o livro na edição do livro de bolso da Europa-América, onde tem o número 336. Pedi o livro emprestado na Biblioteca Municipal de Vila Franca de Xira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3557121129890562244?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3557121129890562244/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3557121129890562244' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3557121129890562244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3557121129890562244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2011/03/um-livro-que-eu-li-s-bernardo-de.html' title='Um livro que eu li - &quot;S. Bernardo&quot;, de Graciliano Ramos'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-allvC4zwC0w/TXQ8uidpIQI/AAAAAAAAAO4/aPSHmId0eag/s72-c/graciliano_ramos.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8541713535038362606</id><published>2010-11-29T08:00:00.015Z</published><updated>2011-03-06T21:18:40.882Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crítica Literária'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stephen vizinczey'/><title type='text'>Um livro que eu li - Stephen Vizinczey - Verdade e mentira na literatura</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Acabei hoje de ler &lt;i&gt;Truth and Lies in Literature&lt;/i&gt; (&lt;i&gt;Verdade e Mentira na Literatura&lt;/i&gt;), de Stephen Vizinczey. Li na tradução portuguesa, de Maria José Marques Figueiredo. O livro é de 1986, e a tradução de 1992, numa edição da Editorial Presença - Biblioteca de Textos Universitários. A introdução é de Christopher Sinclair-Stevenson, que Vizinczey refere nos Agradecimentos (vêm logo ao princípio do livro) como seu director e editor, e que seleccionou e ordenou o material para este livro. Este tem 258 páginas, incluindo o índice. O exemplar que li é da Biblioteca Municipal de Vila Franca de Xira, cota VZN 82.09.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Gostei muito. Julgo que posso classificar este livro como de crítica literária. Ou sobre teoria da literatura. Agrupa uma série de escritos do autor analisando livros sobre autores famosos. Mas começa com um prólogo de que consta&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Os Dez Mandamentos de um Escritor&lt;/i&gt;, publicado no Writer's Monthly, em Julho de 1985. O resto do livro está dividido em cinco partes: 1) &lt;i&gt;França&lt;/i&gt;, 2) &lt;i&gt;Alemanha&lt;/i&gt;, 3) &lt;i&gt;Sexo, Sociedade, Política&lt;/i&gt;, 4) &lt;i&gt;Rússia&lt;/i&gt;, 5) &lt;i&gt;O Que Mais Importa&lt;/i&gt;. Termina com uma nota sobre o autor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A parte sobre a França agrupa doze artigos, que a seguir indico, com o título e a data onde foram publicados:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 - &lt;i&gt;A Razão por que a Literatura Inglesa não é suficiente&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;i&gt;The Sunday Telegraph&lt;/i&gt;, 14 de Agosto de 1977. A propósito da publicação pela Penguin de &lt;i&gt;La Peau de Chagrin&lt;/i&gt; e de &lt;i&gt;Contos Escolhidos&lt;/i&gt;, de Balzac, chama a atenção para a importância do estudo de outras literaturas que não a inglesa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 - &lt;i&gt;Humilhando Rousseau&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;i&gt;The Sunday Telegraph&lt;/i&gt;, 18 de Janeiro de 1976. A propósito da publicação do livro &lt;i&gt;The Making of a Saint: the Tragi-Comedy of Jean-Jacques Rousseau&lt;/i&gt;, J. H. Huizinga (Hamish Hamilton).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 - &lt;i&gt;Um dos Muito Poucos&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;i&gt;The Times&lt;/i&gt;, 11 de Maio de 1968. Trata-se de um ensaio sobre Stendhal, na minha opinião estupendo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 - &lt;i&gt;O Archote de Génio de Stendhal&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;i&gt;Stendhal: The Education of a Novelist,&lt;/i&gt; por Geoffrey Strickland (Cambridge). The Sunday Telegraph, 18 de Agosto de 1974.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 - A Obra-prima inacabada. Lucien Leuwen, de Stendhal. Traduzido por H. L. R. Edwards. Apresentação de Geoffrey Strickland, The Boydell Press, 642 p.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(continua)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8541713535038362606?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8541713535038362606/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8541713535038362606' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8541713535038362606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8541713535038362606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/11/um-livro-que-eu-li-stephen-vizinczey.html' title='Um livro que eu li - Stephen Vizinczey - Verdade e mentira na literatura'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6629825328165698089</id><published>2010-10-23T01:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-23T01:48:14.979+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As minhas leituras'/><title type='text'>Alain de Botton - dois livros que eu li</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Concluí há dias a leitura de &lt;i&gt;How Proust can change your life&lt;/i&gt;. O mês passado li &lt;i&gt;The Consolations of Philosophy&lt;/i&gt;. Gostei bastante de ambos. Li os dois em traduções portuguesas editadas pela Dom Quixote. Alain de Botton é um filósofo que procura praticar a filosofia de todos os dias.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O primeiro foi editado no original em 1997, e a tradução data de 2009. Esta foi da responsabilidade de Sónia Oliveira, e não me pareceu má. Mas há um aspecto que me parece importante. O livro contém várias transcrições de Proust e de outros autores, como por exemplo de John Ruskin, e não há indicação das obras de onde foram tiradas. Custa-me a crer que no original não existissem essas indicações. De qualquer modo Alain de Botton consegue dar-nos facetas humanas de Proust muito vivas, com observações muito interessantes sobre a produção de obras de arte, nomeadamente, claro, de obras literárias. O exemplar que li pertence à Biblioteca Municipal de Vila Franca de Xira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O segundo foi editado no original em 2000, e a primeira edição da tradução data de 2001. Li a quarta edição, que data de 2008. O exemplar que li é meu. A tradução é da responsabilidade de Joaquim N. Gil, com revisão técnica de Maria Olga Afonso dos Reis. Pareceu-me bem feita, em geral. &amp;nbsp;Há notas ao fim, índice remissivo e outras indicações interessantes. Nas transcrições de Montaigne falhou referir os números do volume, do ensaio e da página. É um livro de grande interesse. Aborda a vida e obra de Sócrates, Epicuro, Séneca, Montaigne, Schopenhauer e Nietzche, procurando mostrar as suas facetas humanas, o valor das suas obras, e mostrar a utilidade destas para a vida de todos os dias.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Em ambos os livros, &lt;a href="http://www.alaindebotton.com/"&gt;Alain de Botton&lt;/a&gt; atinge o objectivo de aproximar de nós, público em geral, matérias de elevado interesse intelectual. Usem o link acima para contactar o seu site e saber mais detalhes sobre a sua pessoa e o seu trabalho.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6629825328165698089?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6629825328165698089/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6629825328165698089' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6629825328165698089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6629825328165698089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/10/alain-de-botton-dois-livros-que-eu-li.html' title='Alain de Botton - dois livros que eu li'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1169717619626781262</id><published>2010-09-20T18:06:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T18:06:46.559+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura; um trecho notável'/><title type='text'>Raul Brandão - Luz e Cor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Impact; font-size: 16.0pt;"&gt;Luz e Cor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"&gt;(De &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;Os Pescadores&lt;/i&gt;, de Raul Brandão)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O mar às vezes parece um véu diáfano, outras pó verde. Às vezes é dum azul transparente, outras cobalto. Ou não tem consistência e é céu, ou é confusão e cólera. De manhã desvanece-se, de tarde sonha. E há dias de nevoeiro em que ele é extraordinário, quando a névoa espessa pouco a pouco se adelgaça e surge atrás da última cortina vaporosa, todo verde, dum verde que apetece respirar. Diferentes verdes bóiam na água, esbranquiçados, transparentes, escuros, quase negros, misturados com restos de onda que se desfaz e redemoinha até longe. E ainda outros azulados, com a cor das podridões. Tudo isto graduado e dependendo do céu, da hora e das marés. Há momentos em que me julgo metido dentro de uma esmeralda, e, depois, numa jóia esplêndida, dum azul único que se incendeia. Mas a luz morre, e a luz agonizando exala-se como um perfume. É uma grande flor que desfalece. O doirado não é simplesmente doirado, nem o verde simplesmente&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;verde: possuem um alma delicada e extática.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1169717619626781262?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1169717619626781262/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1169717619626781262' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1169717619626781262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1169717619626781262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/09/raul-brandao-luz-e-cor.html' title='Raul Brandão - Luz e Cor'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8997574574105891440</id><published>2010-09-14T12:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T12:31:16.079+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Estrolábio'/><title type='text'>Arte Poética - catacrese</title><content type='html'>Com este título apresentei um texto no Estrolábio no dia 6 de Setembro de 2010. Vejam se gostam, em estrolabio.blogspot.com/2010/09/arte-poetica- catacrese.html.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8997574574105891440?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8997574574105891440/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8997574574105891440' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8997574574105891440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8997574574105891440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/09/arte-poetica-catacrese.html' title='Arte Poética - catacrese'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5725486096629767430</id><published>2010-09-14T12:26:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T12:26:49.963+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gente Gira; Desporto; Estrolábio'/><title type='text'>Lembro-me do José Torres</title><content type='html'>Com este título apresentei no Estrolábio, no dia 4 de Setembro de 2010, um post. Julgo que não me saí muito mal. Vejam: estrolabio.blogspot.com/2010/09/lembro-me-do-jose-torres.html.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5725486096629767430?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5725486096629767430/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5725486096629767430' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5725486096629767430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5725486096629767430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/09/lembro-me-do-jose-torres.html' title='Lembro-me do José Torres'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1760320494784295972</id><published>2010-08-27T08:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T08:02:00.776+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Um filme que eu vi - O Segredo dos seus Olhos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Fui ao cinema, ao agora chamado Medeia King (antes era só King). Vi El Secreto de sus Ojos (O segredo dos seus Olhos). Gostei imenso. O filme ganhou este ano o Óscar do melhor filme estrangeiro. É um filme policial, muito bem arrancado. A tensão romântica é grande, e a parte técnica está boa, tanto quanto consigo avaliar. Escrevi um texto para o Estrolábio: http://estrolabio.blogspot.com/2010/08/o-segredo-dos-seus-olhos-de-juan-jose.html.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1760320494784295972?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1760320494784295972/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1760320494784295972' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1760320494784295972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1760320494784295972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/08/um-filme-que-eu-vi-o-segredo-dos-seus.html' title='Um filme que eu vi - O Segredo dos seus Olhos'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-555039536299801680</id><published>2010-08-26T12:39:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T12:50:10.269+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Poesia - A Vamp</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era uma vez, sozinho, numa noite&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Escura, cerrada, sem luar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Daquelas em que não há quem se afoite&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;A sair à rua, nem para ver o mar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Na varanda a fumar um cigarro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cosido à parede, bem abrigado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ao ver passar, lentamente, um carro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ao volante uma vamp com ar chateado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pensei que talvez procurasse alguém&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Desci a minha escada a correr&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;E disse-lhe que procurava eu também&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Deu uma gargalhada e respondeu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Que até preferia já ali morrer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Do que aturar um teso como eu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver Estrolábio, 23 de Agosto de 2010,&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://estrolabio.blogspot.com/2010/08/joao-machado-e-vamp-no-espaco-verbarte.html"&gt;http://estrolabio.blogspot.com/2010/08/joao-machado-e-vamp-no-espaco-verbarte.html&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-555039536299801680?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/555039536299801680/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=555039536299801680' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/555039536299801680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/555039536299801680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html' title='Poesia - A Vamp'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3966202083835367006</id><published>2010-08-21T14:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T14:28:08.388+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política Internacional'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pintura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Viagens'/><title type='text'>Uma rápida incursão em Madrid</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;A Helena Maria e eu estivemos em Madrid de 18 a 21 de Julho passado. Fomos participar numa reunião do projecto Eurostar, no qual participa a Associação Portuguesa de Doentes de Parkinson - APDPk, associação de que a Helena Maria é Presidente da Direcção. E fizemos algum turismo cultural e não só. Tinha estado em Madrid há já cinquenta anos. Gostei imenso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"&gt;Viajámos de comboio, no Lusitânia. Essa parte foi pouco agradável, pois fomos na carruagem cama, e não dormi quase nada. Mas entretanto escrevi para o blogue Estrolábio um texto resumindo os aspectos mais notáveis (pelo menos para mim) da nossa deslocação. Vejam em http://estrolabio.blogspot.com/2010/08/uma-rapida-incursao-em-madrid.html.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3966202083835367006?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3966202083835367006/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3966202083835367006' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3966202083835367006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3966202083835367006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/08/uma-rapida-incursao-em-madrid.html' title='Uma rápida incursão em Madrid'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5896878240712641780</id><published>2010-08-14T01:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-14T01:21:32.940+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As minhas leituras'/><title type='text'>A Peste, de Camus</title><content type='html'>Li &lt;i&gt;A Peste&lt;/i&gt;, de Albert Camus. Trata-se de um livro notável, digo-o aqui apenas para enfatizar, porque é muito conhecido, mas talvez menos lido. Elaborei um texto curto sobre o livro e o autor, que enviei para o blogue Estrolábio, onde saiu ontem, dia 13 de Agosto de 2010 (http://estrolabio.blogspot.com/2010/08/um-livro-que-eu-li-peste-de-albert.html). A minha leitura foi na Collection Folio, da Gallimard, numa edição de 1972, com 309 páginas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5896878240712641780?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5896878240712641780/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5896878240712641780' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5896878240712641780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5896878240712641780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/08/peste-de-camus.html' title='A Peste, de Camus'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4596692314418250323</id><published>2010-08-03T02:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T02:38:23.719+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As minhas leituras'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='História'/><title type='text'>Maquiavel - La Mandragola</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Li &lt;i&gt;La Mandragola&lt;/i&gt;, na tradução portuguesa de Carmen González, publicada em 1970 pela Editorial Estampa (colecção Clássicos de Bolso). Tem uma interessante introdução feita pelo então Adido Cultural da Embaixada de Itália em Lisboa, Riccardo Averini, que sublinha a vitalidade e universalidade desta comédia, que ainda hoje é perfeitamente representável. Cita Macaulay, que achava que Maquiavel se tivesse dedicado exclusivamente ao teatro, teria sido um dos maiores dramaturgos de todos os tempos.E termina referindo que os grandes escritores portugueses do século XIX se interessaram por Maquiavel, e mostraram uma grande compreensão pela sua obra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/TFdx96pQE5I/AAAAAAAAAHI/eveCelhT0N0/s1600/IMG_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/TFdx96pQE5I/AAAAAAAAAHI/eveCelhT0N0/s320/IMG_0001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Capa da edição portuguesa de 1970&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;Editorial Estampa&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;La Mandragola&lt;/i&gt; foi publicada em 1518. Terá sido escrita cerca de 1512, quando Maquiavel preparava &lt;i&gt;De principatibus &lt;/i&gt;(nome original de &lt;i&gt;O Príncipe&lt;/i&gt;). Trata-se de uma comédia de costumes, sobre um jovem que procura seduzir uma jovem, história que talvez fosse banal se esta não estivesse casada com um velho rico e tonto. Praticando uma série de vilanias, e com o apoio de gente pouco recomendável, os jovens vencem as barreiras que os separam. Melhor dito: o jovem consegue o seu intuito, com o consentimento da jovem. Maquiavel faz uma crítica cerrada à sociedade em que vive, começando pelos casamentos por interesse e pela condição feminina (desculpem, mas está bem claro que Maquiavel não concorda com o tratamento das mulheres como mercadoria), continuando pela venalidade dos costumes e acabando na ignorância generalizada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4596692314418250323?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4596692314418250323/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4596692314418250323' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4596692314418250323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4596692314418250323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/08/maquiavel-la-mandragola.html' title='Maquiavel - La Mandragola'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/TFdx96pQE5I/AAAAAAAAAHI/eveCelhT0N0/s72-c/IMG_0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-7629249415085968046</id><published>2010-06-10T01:56:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T02:02:44.548+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As minhas leituras'/><title type='text'>El Sol de Breda</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://estrolabio.blogspot.com/"&gt;El Sol de Breda&lt;/a&gt;. Acabei de ler este livro de Arturo Pérez-Reverte. Enviei nota para o blogue Estrolábio, pedindo ao meu amigo Carlos Loures que a editasse. Ficou com o endereço seguinte:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;http://estrolabio.blogspot.com/2010/05/el-sol-de-breda-um-livro-que-eu-li.html.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-7629249415085968046?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/7629249415085968046/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=7629249415085968046' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7629249415085968046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7629249415085968046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/06/el-sol-de-breda.html' title='El Sol de Breda'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-14612747461494999</id><published>2010-05-20T02:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T02:56:34.634+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filosofia'/><title type='text'>A Filosofia de Kant, por Émile Boutroux</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Acabei de ler ontem o livro acima. Trata-se de um conjunto de escritos do filósofo francês (e historiador da filosofia) Émile Boutroux (1845-1921), sobre a vida e obra de Emmanuel Kant (1724-1804), publicados em 1926, postumamente.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A tradução portuguesa, da responsabilidade de Álvaro Ribeiro, é de fraca qualidade.&amp;nbsp; O título é &lt;i&gt;Kant&lt;/i&gt;, simplesmente. Foi editada pela Editorial Inquérito Limitada (lê-se na ficha técnica que o editor foi Francisco Lyon de Castro), na&amp;nbsp; colecção &lt;i&gt;Cadernos Culturais&lt;/i&gt;, com o número 77. O número da edição era o 18 077/0023. Corresponderá ao ano de 1977?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Os escritos que integram o livro, e correspondem cada um a um capítulo, foram claramente escritos em alturas diversas. O último, o VI, intitulado &lt;i&gt;Influência de Kant&lt;/i&gt;, terá sido escrito para a Grande Enciclopédia (francesa, claro) em 1895. Apesar das deficiências da tradução, e da pouco cuidada revisão do texto, julgo que uma leitura atenta consegue dar-nos uma ideia da importância da obra de Kant, nomeadamente no que respeita às relações entre a moral e a ciência, e também sobre o que é&amp;nbsp; a metafísica, começando pela compreensão do que esta realmente é, e qual o seu papel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Os capítulos são seis (para além de uma curta introdução, sobre a filosofia de Kant, e o seu papel na filosofia em geral, e na filosofia alemã em particular), com os títulos seguintes:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I - Biografia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;II - O período antecrítico&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;III - A crítica&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;IV - A doutrina metafísica&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;V - As aplicações da doutrina metafísica&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;VI - Influência de Kant&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O exemplar que li pertence à Biblioteca Municipal de Vila Franca de Xira. A cota é BRT* 14 Kant. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-14612747461494999?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/14612747461494999/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=14612747461494999' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/14612747461494999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/14612747461494999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/05/filosofia-de-kant-por-emile-boutroux.html' title='A Filosofia de Kant, por Émile Boutroux'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1779909922352811287</id><published>2010-05-17T01:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T01:57:02.047+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura; um trecho notável'/><title type='text'>Leitura - Um parágrafo de Camus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tenho estado a ler &lt;i&gt;La Peste&lt;/i&gt;. Encontrei o trecho seguinte, um parágrafo da segunda parte do livro, de que vos proponho a leitura. Mantenho-o em francês. Estamos numa cidade em quarentena devido à peste, isolada do resto do mundo, não se sabe por quanto tempo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;"&lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;Dans&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;ces&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;extremités&lt;/span&gt; de la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;solitude&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;enfin&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;personne&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;ne&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;pouvait&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;espérer&lt;/span&gt; l'aide &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;voisin&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;chacun&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;restait&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;seul&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;avec&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;sa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;préoccupation&lt;/span&gt;. Si l'un d'entre &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;nous&lt;/span&gt;, par &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;hasard&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;essayait&lt;/span&gt; de se &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;confier&lt;/span&gt; ou de &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;dire&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;quelque&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;chose&lt;/span&gt; de &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;son&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;sentiment&lt;/span&gt;, la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;réponse&lt;/span&gt; qu'il &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;recevait&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;quelle&lt;/span&gt; qu'elle &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;fût&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;le&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;blessaient&lt;/span&gt; la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;plupart&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;temps&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;Il&lt;/span&gt; s'apercevait &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;alors&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;que&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;son&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;interlocuteur&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;lui&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;ne&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;parlaient&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;pas&lt;/span&gt; de la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;même&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;chose&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;Lui&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;en&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;effet&lt;/span&gt;, s'exprimait &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;fond&lt;/span&gt; de &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;longues&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;journées&lt;/span&gt; de &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;rumination&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt; de &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;souffrances&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt; l'image qu'il &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;voulait&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;communiquer&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;avait&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;cuit&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;longtemps&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;au&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;feu&lt;/span&gt; de l'attente &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt; de la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;passion&lt;/span&gt;. L'autre, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;au&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;contraire&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;imaginait&lt;/span&gt; une &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;émotion&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;conventionelle&lt;/span&gt;, la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;douleur&lt;/span&gt; qu'on &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;vend&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;sur&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;les&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;marchés&lt;/span&gt;, une &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;mélancolie&lt;/span&gt; de série. &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;Bienveillante&lt;/span&gt; ou &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;hostile&lt;/span&gt;, la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;réponse&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;tombait&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;toujours&lt;/span&gt; à &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;faux&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;il&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;fallait&lt;/span&gt; y &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;renoncer&lt;/span&gt;. Ou &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;moins&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;pour&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;ceux&lt;/span&gt; à &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;qui&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;le&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;silence&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;était&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;insupportable&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;puisque&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;les&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;autres&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;ne&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;pouvaient&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;trouver&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;le&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;vrai&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;langage&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;coeur&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;ils&lt;/span&gt; se &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;résignaient&lt;/span&gt; à &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;adopter&lt;/span&gt; la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;langue&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;des&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;marchés&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt; à &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;parler&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;eux&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;aussi&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;sur&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;le&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;mode&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;conventionnel&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;celui&lt;/span&gt; de la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;simple&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;relation&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;et&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;fait&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;divers&lt;/span&gt;, de la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;chronique&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;quotidienne&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;en&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;quelque&lt;/span&gt; sorte. &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;Là&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;encore&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;les&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;douleurs&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;les&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;plus&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;vraies&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;prirent&lt;/span&gt; l'habitude de se &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;traduire&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;dans&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;les&lt;/span&gt; formules &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;banales&lt;/span&gt; de la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;conversation&lt;/span&gt;. C'est à &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;ce&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;prix&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;seulement&lt;/span&gt; que &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;les&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;prisonniers&lt;/span&gt; de la peste &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;pouvaient&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;obtenir&lt;/span&gt; la &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;compassion&lt;/span&gt; de &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;leur&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;concierge&lt;/span&gt; ou l'intéret de &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;leurs&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;auditeurs&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Li este trecho na edição da &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;Gallimard&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;Collection&lt;/span&gt; Folio, impressa em 1972. &lt;i&gt;La Peste&lt;/i&gt;, como sabem, saiu à estampa pela primeira vez em 1947. Albert &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% yellow;"&gt;Camus&lt;/span&gt; nasceu na Argélia em 1913 e morreu em 1960 num desastre de automóvel . Foi jornalista, dramaturgo, romancista, ensaísta e filósofo. Prémio Nobel da Literatura em 1957.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1779909922352811287?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1779909922352811287/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1779909922352811287' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1779909922352811287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1779909922352811287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/05/leitura-um-paragrafo-de-camus.html' title='Leitura - Um parágrafo de Camus'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6384028141799464690</id><published>2010-03-15T20:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-03-15T20:23:32.361Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Economia e Sociedade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política e Democracia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comentário do dia a dia'/><title type='text'>O triunfo da corrupção - um comentário a Vasco Pulido Valente</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No &lt;i&gt;Público &lt;/i&gt;de 12 de Março de 2010, na coluna &lt;i&gt;Opinião&lt;/i&gt;, Vasco Pulido Valente (VPV) diz-nos que "os portugueses toleram (ou, mais precisamente, aprovam) a corrupção". Remata o seu texto informando-nos que "Não é agora altura de mudar os costumes".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Obviamente que isto é o que VPV pensa. Melhor, é o que VPV deseja. A corrupção, como toda a gente sabe, tem origem nas grandes diferenças sociais, e resulta basicamente do desejo das camadas privilegiadas de continuarem a ser privilegiadas. Quem não tem privilégios, e deseja a eles aceder, tem de violar as regras e recorrer a tratamentos de favor. Tem de procurar que algum privilegiado lhe dê uma ajuda, em troco sabe-se lá do quê. A não ser que algum familiar, ou amigo do peito, resolva ajudar graciosamente, de boa vontade, sem pedir retribuição. Portugal continua a ter grandes diferenças sociais. Os privilegiados querem continuar a ser privilegiados. VPV acha muito bem. Eu não. Será isto o direito à diferença?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6384028141799464690?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6384028141799464690/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6384028141799464690' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6384028141799464690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6384028141799464690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/03/o-triunfo-da-corrupcao-um-comentario.html' title='O triunfo da corrupção - um comentário a Vasco Pulido Valente'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-7858882332487726170</id><published>2010-01-21T01:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-21T01:44:10.026Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Du ein Dichter? Du ein Dichter?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stehts mit deinem Kopf so schlecht?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;- "Ja, mein Herr, Sie sind ein Dichter"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Achselzuckt der Vogel Specht.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De Poemas, organização de Paulo Quintela&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Centelha, Coimbra, 1981&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-7858882332487726170?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/7858882332487726170/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=7858882332487726170' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7858882332487726170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7858882332487726170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2010/01/friedrich-nietzsche-1844-1900.html' title='Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-530237162427138136</id><published>2009-12-30T19:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-30T19:15:29.401Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Almeida Garrett (1799-1854)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Barca Bela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Pescador de barca bela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Onde vais pescar com ela,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Que é tão bela,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ó pescador?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Não vês que a última estrela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;No céu nublado se vela?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Colhe a vela,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ó pescador!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Deita o lanço com cautela,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Que a sereia canta bela ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Mas cautela,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ó pescador!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Não se enrede a rede nela,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Que perdido é remo e vela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Só de vê-la,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ó pescador.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Pescador da barca bela,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Inda é tempo, foge dela,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Foge dela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ó pescador!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De &lt;i&gt;Folhas Caídas&lt;/i&gt; (1853)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-530237162427138136?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/530237162427138136/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=530237162427138136' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/530237162427138136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/530237162427138136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/12/almeida-garrett-1799-1854.html' title='Almeida Garrett (1799-1854)'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6403094675539214170</id><published>2009-12-26T00:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-26T00:48:48.009Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leitura; Um jornal notável'/><title type='text'>El País Semanal - 06Dezembro09</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Poucas vezes nos é dada ver tanta coisa interessante, com significado histórico, num só jornal. Neste caso, numa revista que acompanha um jornal, como é o caso presente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Neste número (o 1732) &lt;i&gt;El País Semanal&lt;/i&gt; apresenta (a ordem é minha) uma série de artigos, reportagens, etc., que vou referir mais abaixo. Cumprimento o jornal, felicito-o por este número da sua revista semanal, e rogo aos seus responsáveis que procurem manter (e mesmo melhorar) a linha de qualidade que têm mantido. Rogo-lhes que, em relação à América Latina e ao Terceiro Mundo em geral, procurem evoluir para uma postura mais isenta e rigorosa. É preciso ter presente que nem tudo o que lá se passa é mau, mesmo quando não alinha pelas posições dos EUA ou da União Europeia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vamos ao &lt;i&gt;El País Semanal&lt;/i&gt;, de 06Dezembro09:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Así sufrimos el cambio climático&lt;/i&gt; - texto e fotografias de Mathias Braschler e Monika Fischer. Apresenta-nos 30 exemplos de situações de gentes afectadas pelas alterações climáticas, em 15 países, da Suiça e da Espanha, até ao Mali e à Austrália. São agricultores que não conseguem colheitas por causa da seca, ou que têm as casas e as culturas destroçadas por inundações e tempestades, no Mali e no Tchad, ou no Bangladesh e em Cuba. É Kiribati, um país com assento na ONU a ser submerso pelo mar. São os glaciares a desaparecer na Suiça, e os gelos subterrâneos na Sibéria. São os pinheiros das Montanhas Rochosas, nos EUA a serem dizimados por uma praga de escaravelhos, agravada pelas temperaturas relativamente amenas no Inverno. Percebe-se claramente os problemas que estão a ocorrer um pouco por todo o mundo. É uma resposta forte aos que persistem em negar o impacto das alterações climáticas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;El abogado del diablo&lt;/i&gt; - por Jurgen Schreiber. Fotografia por Dieter Mayr. Sobre o advogado Fritz Steinacker, defensor de alguns dos maiores criminosos de guerra nazis. Assente num meticuloso trabalho de investigação, dá um resumo da vida deste homem que agora conta 88 anos, e alguma luz sobre os seus métodos e motivações. Pessoa discreta, e sem dúvida que dotado de grandes qualidades de trabalho, pertenceu ao partido nazi desde os 17 anos, e combateu na força aérea, tendo sido condecorado em Janeiro de 1945 por actos de grande valor. Sem dúvida que acredita que a maioria dos crimes dos seus constituintes foi cometida em obediência a ordens, e que isso constituiria uma justificação de peso. Hoje é uma pessoa conceituada, que encabeça um escritório de advogados de Frankfurt, parece ser respeitado pelos seus concidadãos, dirige uma colectividade desportiva da cidade e pertence à ala liberal da CDU O artigo também refere os crimes cometidos pelos nazis que Steinacker defendeu (alguns de grande notoriedade e colossais responsabilidades em torturas e matanças, como Josef&amp;nbsp; Mengele, Aribert Heim e Viktor Capesius), sendo que alguns ainda têm processo aberto no escritório de advogados, e&amp;nbsp; aborda&amp;nbsp; ainda os percursos de&amp;nbsp; vida que fizeram depois da guerra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;El secreto de Jackie&lt;/i&gt; - por Douglas Thompson, com fotografias de Settimio Garritano. Para alguns, o interesse principal deste trabalho estará nas fotografias de Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis sem roupa, e noutras poses descontraídas. Mas para as pessoas mais sensatas acharão com certeza interessantes os elementos que permitem entender melhor o que faz com que uma bela mulher da alta sociedade, conhecidíssima, viúva de um Presidente dos EUA, sem dúvida inteligente e culta, vá casar com um milionário grego, vinte e tal anos mais velho, de reputação controversa. A complementar este trabalho vem um texto de Maruja Torres, &lt;i&gt;La viuda del mundo&lt;/i&gt;, que recorda os episódios trágicos que afectaram a vida de Jackie&amp;nbsp; (1929-94).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A revista traz mais artigos de interesse, como uma entrevista com o cineasta Fernando Trueba, uma reportagem sobre um pastor chamado Marcos, que viveu na Serra Morena dos 7 aos 19 anos (entre 1953 até 1965) sem contactos humanos, convivendo com os animais (em Outubro de 2010 sairá o filme &lt;i&gt;Entrelobos&lt;/i&gt;, de Gerardo Olivares, sobre este caso), outra reportagem sobre a actriz Felicity Huffman (da série da TV &lt;i&gt;Mulheres à beira de um ataque de nervos&lt;/i&gt;, e várias colaborações, das quais destaco &lt;i&gt;Delitos legalizados&lt;/i&gt;, da coluna &lt;i&gt;La Zona Fantasma&lt;/i&gt;, do escritor Javier Marías (esse mesmo, o filho do filósofo Julián Marías) Este aborda um tema interessantíssimo, o dos responsáveis políticos acusados de corrupção e que, apesar disso, vêem as suas votações aumentarem em actos eleitorais sucessivos. Trata-se de um tema que em Portugal conhecemos bem e que, pelos vistos, em Espanha é a mesma coisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6403094675539214170?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6403094675539214170/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6403094675539214170' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6403094675539214170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6403094675539214170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/12/el-pais-semanal-06dezembro09.html' title='El País Semanal - 06Dezembro09'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5983763277571097502</id><published>2009-12-08T02:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-08T02:34:40.449Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Rimbaud, Arthur (1854-91)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bateau Ivre&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comme je descendais des Fleuves impassibles,&lt;br /&gt;Je ne me sentis plus guidé par les haleurs :&lt;br /&gt;Des Peaux-Rouges criards les avaient pris pour cibles,&lt;br /&gt;Les ayant cloués nus aux poteaux de couleurs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'étais insoucieux de tous les équipages,&lt;br /&gt;Porteur de blés flamands ou de cotons anglais,&lt;br /&gt;Quand avec mes haleurs ont fini ces tapages,&lt;br /&gt;Les fleuves m'ont laissé descendre où je voulais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dans les clapotements furieux des marées,&lt;br /&gt;Moi, l'autre hiver, plus sourd que les cerveaux d'enfants,&lt;br /&gt;Je courus ! et les Péninsules démarrées&lt;br /&gt;N'ont pas subi tohu-bohus plus triomphants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La tempête a béni mes éveils maritimes. &lt;br /&gt;Plus léger qu'un bouchon j'ai dansé sur les flots&lt;br /&gt;Qu'on appelle rouleurs éternels de victimes,&lt;br /&gt;Dix nuits, sans regretter l'oeil niais des falots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus douce qu'aux enfants la chair des pommes sures,&lt;br /&gt;L'eau verte pénétra ma coque de sapin&lt;br /&gt;Et des taches de vins bleus et des vomissures&lt;br /&gt;Me lava, dispersant gouvernail et grappin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et, dès lors, je me suis baigné dans le poème&lt;br /&gt;De la mer infusé d'astres et lactescent,&lt;br /&gt;Dévorant les azurs verts où, flottaison blême&lt;br /&gt;Et ravie, un noyé pensif, parfois, descend;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Où, teignant tout à coup les bleuités, délires&lt;br /&gt;Et rhythmes lents sous les rutilements du jour,&lt;br /&gt;Plus fortes que l'alcool, plus vastes que vos lyres,&lt;br /&gt;Fermentent les rousseurs amères de l'amour !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je sais les cieux crevant en éclairs, et les trombes&lt;br /&gt;Et les ressacs et les courants; je sais le soir,&lt;br /&gt;L'aube exaltée ainsi qu'un peuple de colombes,&lt;br /&gt;Et j'ai vu quelquefois ce que l'homme a cru voir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu le soleil bas taché d'horreurs mystiques&lt;br /&gt;Illuminant de longs figements violets,&lt;br /&gt;Pareils à des acteurs de drames très antiques,&lt;br /&gt;Les flots roulants au loin leurs frissons de volets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai rêvé la nuit verte aux neiges éblouies,&lt;br /&gt;Baisers montant aux yeux des mers avec lenteur,&lt;br /&gt;La circulation des sèves inouies&lt;br /&gt;Et l'éveil jaune et bleu des phosphores chanteurs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai suivi, des mois pleins, pareille aux vacheries&lt;br /&gt;Hystériques, la houle à l'assaut des récifs,&lt;br /&gt;Sans songer que les pieds lumineux des Maries&lt;br /&gt;Pussent forcer le muffle aux Océans poussifs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai heurté, savez-vous? d'incroyables Florides&lt;br /&gt;Mêlant aux fleurs des yeux de panthères aux peaux&lt;br /&gt;D'hommes, des arcs-en-ciel tendus comme des brides,&lt;br /&gt;Sous l'horizon des mers, à de glauques troupeaux.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu fermenter les marais, énormes nasses&lt;br /&gt;Où pourrit dans les joncs tout un Léviathan,&lt;br /&gt;Des écroulements d'eaux au milieu des bonaces&lt;br /&gt;Et les lointains vers les gouffres cataractant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glaciers, soleils d'argent, flots nacreux, cieux de braises,&lt;br /&gt;Échouages hideux au fond des golfes bruns&lt;br /&gt;Où les serpents géants dévorés des punaises&lt;br /&gt;Choient des arbres tordus avec de noirs parfums!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'aurais voulu montrer aux enfants ces dorades&lt;br /&gt;Du flot bleu, ces poissons d'or, ces poissons chantants,&lt;br /&gt;Des écumes de fleurs ont béni mes dérades,&lt;br /&gt;Et d'ineffables vents m'ont ailé par instants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parfois, martyr lassé des pôles et des zones,&lt;br /&gt;La mer, dont le sanglot faisait mon roulis doux,&lt;br /&gt;Montait vers moi ses fleurs d'ombre aux ventouses jaunes&lt;br /&gt;Et je restais ainsi qu'une femme à genoux,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presque'île ballotant sur mes bords les querelles&lt;br /&gt;Et les fientes d'oiseaux clabaudeurs aux yeux blonds,&lt;br /&gt;Et je voguais lorsqu'à travers mes liens frêles&lt;br /&gt;Des noyés descendaient dormir à reculons...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, moi, bateau perdu sous les cheveux des anses,&lt;br /&gt;Jeté par l'ouragan dans l'éther sans oiseau,&lt;br /&gt;Moi dont les Monitors et les voiliers des Hanses&lt;br /&gt;N'auraient pas repêché la carcasse ivre d'eau,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Libre, fumant, monté de brumes violettes,&lt;br /&gt;Moi qui trouais le ciel rougeoyant comme un mur&lt;br /&gt;Qui porte, confiture exquise aux bons poètes,&lt;br /&gt;Des lichens de soleil et des morves d'azur,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qui courais taché de lunules électriques,&lt;br /&gt;Planche folle, escorté des hippocampes noirs,&lt;br /&gt;Quand les Juillets faisaient crouler à coups de triques&lt;br /&gt;Les cieux ultramarins aux ardents entonnoirs,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moi qui tremblais, sentant geindre à cinquante lieues&lt;br /&gt;Le rut des Béhémots et des Maelstroms épais,&lt;br /&gt;Fileur éternel des immobilités bleues,&lt;br /&gt;Je regrette l'Europe aux anciens parapets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'ai vu des archipels sidéraux! et des îles&lt;br /&gt;Dont les cieux délirants sont ouverts au vogueur:&lt;br /&gt;Est-ce&amp;nbsp; en ces nuits sans fond que tu dors et'exiles,&lt;br /&gt;Million d'oiseaux d'or, ô future Vigueur?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais, vrai, j'ai trop pleuré. Les aubes sont navrantes,&lt;br /&gt;Toute lune est atroce et tout soleil amer.&lt;br /&gt;L'âcre amour m'a gonflé de torpeurs enivrantes.&lt;br /&gt;Oh! que ma quille éclate! Oh! que j'aille à la mer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si je désire une eau d'Europe, c'est la flache&lt;br /&gt;Noire et froide où vers le crépuscule embaumé&lt;br /&gt;Un enfant accroupi, plein de tristesse,&amp;nbsp; lâche&lt;br /&gt;Un bateau frêle comme un papillon de mai,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je ne puis plus, baigné de vos langueurs, ô lames,&lt;br /&gt;Enlever leur sillage aux porteurs de cotons,&lt;br /&gt;Ni traverser l'orgueil des drapeaux et des flammes,&lt;br /&gt;Ni nager sous les yeux horribles des pontons!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Oeuvres de Arthur Rimbaud&lt;/i&gt;, Paris, Mercvre de France, 1924.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Citação por Hugh Pratt, nas &lt;i&gt;Etiópicas.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5983763277571097502?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5983763277571097502/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5983763277571097502' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5983763277571097502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5983763277571097502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/12/rimbaud-arthur-1854-91.html' title='Rimbaud, Arthur (1854-91)'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6662695192627271155</id><published>2009-11-04T12:34:00.010Z</published><updated>2009-11-04T13:16:05.699Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura; Crítica Literária'/><title type='text'>João Gaspar Simões - Crítica I.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Comecei a ler Crítica. I, de João Gaspar Simões (JGS), numa edição da Livraria Latina, do Porto, datada de 1942. O livro começa por um Preâmbulo, com duas partes, a primeira intitulada &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A crítica literária contemporânea em França e Portugal&lt;/span&gt;, e a segunda &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sobre a Crítica&lt;/span&gt;. A segunda parte chama-se &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Prosa e o Romance Contemporâneo&lt;/span&gt;, a terceira O problema do romance, e por fim vêm um apêndice, intitulado &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Considerações melancólicas a propósito de uma carta do Sr. Aquilino Ribeiro&lt;/span&gt;, e um index.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O livro inclui, recupera obviamente textos escritos em diferentes ocasiões. Numa explicação prévia, em que JGS nos informa logo ao início que o Preâmbulo é-o na verdade, não só para o presente Crítica. I ("meu primeiro volume de crítica"), mas para os volumes que se lhe seguirem, são referidas as datas e os locais de muitos desses textos, nomeademente das críticas a autores portugueses e brasileiros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na explicação prévia JGS afirma admitir (págs. 18 e 19) que a crítica tanto pode ser interpretativa, como judicativa. A primeira estudará os vários elementos que integram uma obra, sejam eles ideológicos, psicológicos, estéticos, morais ou sociais. A segunda pretenderá ir até às pretensões do autor, e verificar se elas foram realizadas, pressupondo obviamente a primeira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6662695192627271155?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6662695192627271155/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6662695192627271155' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6662695192627271155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6662695192627271155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/11/joao-gaspar-simoes-critica-i.html' title='João Gaspar Simões - Crítica I.'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4553835093696970296</id><published>2009-08-30T13:08:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T13:17:14.990+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>A Segunda Viagem de Sinbad</title><content type='html'>&lt;h6&gt;When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-fourth Night,&lt;/h6&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman continued in these words:—My wonder redoubled and I remembered a story I had heard aforetime of pilgrims and travellers, how in a certain island dwelleth a huge bird, called the “Rukh”&lt;a href="http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/b/burton/richard/b97b/part58.html#fn2675" id="rn2675" name="rn2675"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; which feedeth its young on elephants; and I was certified that the dome which caught my sight was none other than a Rukh’s egg. As I looked and wondered at the marvellous works of the Almighty, the bird alighted on the dome and brooded over it with its wings covering it and its legs stretched out behind it on the ground, and in this posture it fell asleep, glory be to Him who sleepeth not! When I saw this, I arose and, unwinding my turband from my head, doubled it and twisted it into a rope, with which I girt my middle and bound my waist fast to the legs of the Rukh, saying in myself, “Peradventure, this bird may carry me to a land of cities and inhabitants, and that will be better than abiding in this desert island.” I passed the night watching and fearing to sleep, lest the bird should fly away with me unawares; and, as soon as the dawn broke and morn shone, the Rukh rose off its egg and spreading its wings with a great cry flew up into the air dragging me with it; nor ceased it to soar and to tower till I thought it had reached the limit of the firmament; after which it descended, earthwards, little by little, till it lighted on the top of a high hill. As soon as I found myself on the hard ground, I made haste to unbind myself, quaking for fear of the bird, though it took no heed of me nor even felt me; and, loosing my turband from its feet, I made off with my best speed. Presently, I saw it catch up in its huge claws something from the earth and rise with it high in air, and observing it narrowly I saw it to be a serpent big of bulk and gigantic of girth, wherewith it flew away clean out of sight. I marvelled at this and faring forwards found myself on a peak overlooking a valley, exceeding great and wide and deep, and bounded by vast mountains that spired high in air: none could descry their summits, for the excess of their height, nor was any able to climb up thereto. When I saw this, I blamed myself for that which I had done and said, “Would Heaven I had tarried in the island! It was better than this wild desert; for there I had at least fruits to eat and water to drink, and here are neither trees nor fruits nor streams. But there is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily, as often as I am quit of one peril, I fall into a worse danger and a more grievous.” However, I took courage and walking along the Wady found that its soil was of diamond, the stone wherewith they pierce minerals and precious stones and porcelain and the onyx, for that it is a dense stone and a dure, whereon neither iron nor hardhead hath effect, neither can we cut off aught therefrom nor break it, save by means of leadstone.&lt;a href="http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/b/burton/richard/b97b/part58.html#fn2676" id="rn2676" name="rn2676"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Moreover, the valley swarmed with snakes and vipers, each big as a palm tree, that would have made but one gulp of an elephant; and they came out by night, hiding during the day, lest the Rukhs and eagles pounce on them and tear them to pieces, as was their wont, why I wot not. And I repented of what I had done and said, “By Allah, I have made haste to bring destruction upon myself!” The day began to wane as I went along and I looked about for a place where I might pass the night, being in fear of the serpents; and I took no thought of meat and drink in my concern for my life. Presently, I caught sight of a cave nearhand, with a narrow doorway; so I entered and seeing a great stone close to the mouth, I rolled it up and stopped the entrance, saying to myself, “I am safe here for the night; and as soon as it is day, I will go forth and see what destiny will do.” Then I looked within the cave and saw to the upper end a great serpent brooding on her eggs, at which my flesh quaked and my hair stood on end; but I raised my eyes to Heaven and, committing my case to fate and lot, abode all that night without sleep till daybreak, when I rolled back the stone from the mouth of the cave and went forth, staggering like a drunken man and giddy with watching and fear and hunger. As in this sore case I walked along the valley, behold, there fell down before me a slaughtered beast; but I saw no one, whereat I marvelled with great marvel and presently remembered a story I had heard aforetime of traders and pilgrims and travellers; how the mountains where are the diamonds are full of perils and terrors, nor can any fare through them; but the merchants who traffic in diamonds have a device by which they obtain them, that is to say, they take a sheep and slaughter and skin it and cut it in pieces and cast them down from the mountain-tops into the valley-sole, where the meat being fresh and sticky with blood, some of the gems cleave to it. There they leave it till mid-day, when the eagles and vultures swoop down upon it and carry it in their claws to the mountain-summits, whereupon the merchants come and shout at them and scare them away from the meat. Then they come and, taking the diamonds which they find sticking to it, go their ways with them and leave the meat to the birds and beasts; nor can any come at the diamonds but by this device,—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4553835093696970296?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4553835093696970296/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4553835093696970296' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4553835093696970296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4553835093696970296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title='A Segunda Viagem de Sinbad'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5640752088100721507</id><published>2009-07-27T18:06:00.015+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T19:42:08.084+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colonialismo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lusofonia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='História'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='África'/><title type='text'>Livro Poesia Africana di Rivolta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Este livro foi editado em 1969, pela editora Laterza, de Bari. A edição foi orientada por &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Giuseppe Tavani&lt;/span&gt;, que também se encarregou das traduções, com a colaboração de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maria Vargas&lt;/span&gt;, a qual, segundo algumas informações que me deram, seria na verdade &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maria Lamas&lt;/span&gt;, a jornalista, autora e activista política.  Inclui poemas de Agostinho Neto, Costa Andrade, José Craveirinha, Kaoberdiano Dambará, Alda do Espírito Santo, Aguinaldo Fonseca, Mário Fonseca, Armando Guebusa, António Jacinto, Marcelino dos Santos, Gabriel Mariano, Ovídio Martins, Rui de Noronha, Jorge Rebelo, Aires de Almeida Santos, Arnaldo Santos, Onésimo Silveira, Noémia de Sousa, Francisco-José Tenreiro, Sérgio Vieira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O livro foi-me emprestado pelo Manuel Simões, a quem muito agradeço. Tem uma interessante introdução da autoria do ensaísta angolano &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mário de Andrade&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mário Pinto de Andrade&lt;/span&gt;,  1928-1990), que também escreveu um apêndice &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;La Poesia Africana di Espressione Portoghese&lt;/span&gt;. A seguir uma cronologia da repressão e da revolta armada, elaborada por &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maria Vargas&lt;/span&gt;, seguindo-se umas notas bio-bibliográficas sobre os autores seleccionados. Termina com um glossário das palavras africanas não traduzidas, algumas das quais são puramente e simplesmente palavras portuguesas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Permito-me transcrever aqui, com a devida vénia, um poema de Gabriel Mariano, poeta de S. Nicolau de Cabo Verde, (José Gabriel Lopes da Silva, 1928-2002), que figura na página 106 de &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poesia Africana di Rivolta&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Capataz de escravos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;é o que tu és meu irmão comissário.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Não os vês seguindo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;nos porões seguindo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Quem dizes tu que eles são&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;nos porões dormindo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Quem dizes tu que eles são&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;nos porões comendo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Quem dizes tu que eles são&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;nos porões cantando?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Quem dizes tu que eles são comissário ad hoc? Porcos?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Porco, não, comissário ad hoc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;porco não canta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Eles os que seguem nos porões cantando&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;são homens de carne como tu irmão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;de carne e nervos como tu irmão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Tu segues em camarote fino, reservado, preparado irmão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;tu segues em camarote fino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;e eles nos porões cantando.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Tu o que és comissário&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;irmão de sangue, irmão de sofrimento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;tu o que és (choremos lágrimas na traição comum)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;tu o que és...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Capataz de escravos é o que tu és&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;Comissário Ad Hoc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5640752088100721507?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5640752088100721507/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5640752088100721507' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5640752088100721507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5640752088100721507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/07/livro-poesia-africana-di-rivolta.html' title='Livro Poesia Africana di Rivolta'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8695637702876042027</id><published>2009-05-06T13:59:00.041+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T00:03:42.598+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colonialismo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Socialismo ou Barbárie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nativos americanos'/><title type='text'>B.Traven - I</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Lembram-se de &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;O Tesouro de Serra Madre&lt;/span&gt;? O filme de John Huston de 1948, que conta com uma interpretação "à maneira" de Humphrey Bogart? O argumento foi elaborado a partir de uma história de B. Traven, que também colaborou directamente na preparação do filme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B. Traven levou uma vida aventurosa, que nunca quis dar a conhecer. A revista semanal do &lt;em&gt;El País (El País Semanal)&lt;/em&gt; de 5 de Abril de 2009 traz um artigo de Julia Luzán, que o refere como um rei do disfarce, enumerando algumas identidades que teria assumido ao longo da sua vida. B. Traven terá mesmo espalhado pistas falsas sobre a sua identidade. B. Traven chegou a afirmar: a história da minha vida é comigo. Parece que a única data certa que se conhece da sua vida é a da sua morte: 26 de Março de 1969. Chegou a fazer correr o boato de que era Jack London, que este teria fingido a sua morte em 1916 (suicidou-se na Califórnia), e reaparecido como B. Traven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Quando faleceu a viúva declarou que o seu nome era Traven Torsvan Croves, e que teria nascido em Chicago a 3 de Maio de 1890. Contudo não se encontraram registos que confirmem estas declarações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conta-se que a revista &lt;em&gt;Life&lt;/em&gt; terá oferecido 5.000 dólares a quem descobrisse um pista para resolver o mistério Traven. Julia Luzán falou com a viúva, Rosa Elena Luján, e esta acedeu a mostrar várias fotografias de B. Traven, que figuram no artigo do El País Semanal de 5 de Abril de 2009. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Na internet (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B._Traven"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B._Traven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;) encontram-se várias referências a B. Traven. Terá assumido diferentes identidades ao longo da sua vida. Uma terá sido a de Ret Marut, participante na tentativa de implantar uma república soviética na Baviera, no início da década de 1920. Terá pertencido aos conselhos operários implantados na altura na Alemanha. A violenta repressão que se abateu sobre os revolucionários fez com que Ret Marut tenha sido condenado à morte. Era editor de uma revista anarquista, &lt;em&gt;Der Ziegelbrenner &lt;/em&gt;(à letra, O Queimador de Tijolos). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Uma referência interessante a B. Traven é a que lhe faz Jack D. Forbes, no seu livro &lt;em&gt;Columbus and Other Cannibals&lt;/em&gt;, de 1992. Jack D. Forbes foi professor de estudos nativos americanos (American Native Studies) na Universidade de Davis, na Califórnia. Hoje é professor emérito. No capítulo VI, sobre como o processo de corrupção leva as pessoas à demência e as transforma em opressores, refere &lt;em&gt;Government&lt;/em&gt;, uma história que B. Traven escreveu na década de 1930, e que faz parte das &lt;em&gt;Jungle Novels&lt;/em&gt;, no qual aborda as lutas sociais no México, sobretudo em Chiapas, nos anos que se seguiram à revolução de 1910. Conta a história de Gabriel Orduñez, um &lt;em&gt;ladino&lt;/em&gt; (mexicano de fala espanhola e sangue mestiço) que é levado a tornar-se agente de índios, que explora duramente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As simpatias de B. Traven pelos explorados e oprimidos são manifestas. As suas ideias são sem dúvida anticapitalistas e pró-anarquistas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8695637702876042027?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8695637702876042027/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8695637702876042027' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8695637702876042027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8695637702876042027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/05/btraven-i.html' title='B.Traven - I'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1046879330005568247</id><published>2009-03-23T18:41:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-03-23T18:46:27.163Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>A Segunda Viagem de Sinbad</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Know, O my brother, that I was living a most comfortable and enjoyable life, in all solace and delight, as I told you yesterday, --And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- work-around for Microsoft DIV align bug: --&gt;  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:EngrvrsOldEng BT;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-third Night,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sindbad the Seaman's guests were all gathered together he thus bespake them:--I was living a most enjoyable life until one day my mind became possessed with the thought of travelling about the world of men and seeing their cities and islands; and a longing seized me to traffic and to make money by trade. Upon this resolve I took a great store of cash and, buying goods and gear fit for travel, bound them up in bales. Then I went down to the river-bank, where I found a noble ship and brand-new about to sail, equipped with sails of fine cloth and well manned and provided; so I took passage in her, with a number of other merchants, and after embarking our goods we weighed anchor the same day. Right fair was our voyage and we sailed from place to place and from isle to isle; and whenever we anchored we met a crowd of merchants and notables and customers, and we took to buying and selling and bartering. At last Destiny brought us to an island, fair and verdant, in trees abundant, with yellow-ripe fruits luxuriant, and flowers fragrant and birds warbling soft descant; and streams crystalline and radiant; but no sign of man showed to the descrier, no, not a blower of the fire.&lt;a name="20"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;The captain made fast with us to this island, and the merchants and sailors landed and walked about, enjoying the shade of the trees and the song of the birds, that chanted the praises of the One, the Victorious, and marvelling at the works of the Omnipotent King.&lt;a name="21"&gt; &lt;/a&gt; I landed with the rest; and, sitting down by a spring of sweet water that welled up among the trees, took out some vivers I had with me and ate of that which Allah Almighty had allotted unto me. And so sweet was the zephyr and so fragrant were the flowers, that presently I waxed drowsy and, lying down in that place, was soon drowned in sleep. When I awoke, I found myself alone, for the ship had sailed and left me behind, nor had one of the merchants or sailors bethought himself of me. I seared the island right and left, but found neither man nor Jinn, whereat I was beyond measure troubled and my gall was like to burst for stress of chagrin and anguish and concern, because I was left quite alone, without aught of wordly gear or meat or drink, weary and heart-broken. So I gave myself up for lost and said, "Not always doth the crock escape the shock. I was saved the first time by finding one who brought me from the desert island to an inhabited place, but now there is no hope for me." Then I fell to weeping and wailing and gave myself up to an access of rage, blaming myself for having again ventured upon the perils and hardships of voyage, whenas I was at my ease in mine own house in mine own land, taking my pleasure with good meat and good drink and good clothes and lacking nothing, neither money nor goods. And I repented me of having left Baghdad, and this the more after all the travails and dangers I had undergone in my first voyage, wherein I had so narrowly escaped destruction, and exclaimed "Verily we are Allah's and unto Him we are returning!" I was indeed even as one mad and Jinn-struck and presently I rose and walked about the island, right and left and every whither, unable for trouble to sit or tarry in any one place. Then I climbed a tall tree and looked in all directions, but saw nothing save sky and sea and trees and birds and isles and sands. However, after a while my eager glances fell upon some great white thing, afar off in the interior of the island; so I came down from the tree and made for that which I had seen; and behold, it was a huge white dome rising high in air and of vast compass. I walked all around it, but found no door thereto, nor could I muster strength or nimbleness by reason of its exceeding smoothness and slipperiness. So I marked the spot where I stood and went round about the dome to measure its circumference which I found fifty good paces. And as I stood, casting about how to gain an entrance the day being near its fall and the sun being near the horizon, behold, the sun was suddenly hidden from me and the air became dull and dark. Methought a cloud had come over the sun, but it was the season of summer; so I marvelled at this and lifting my head looked steadfastly at the sky, when I saw that the cloud was none other than an enormous bird, of gigantic girth and inordinately wide of wing which, as it flew through the air, veiled the sun and hid it from the island. At this sight my wonder redoubled and I remembered a story,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1046879330005568247?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1046879330005568247/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1046879330005568247' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1046879330005568247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1046879330005568247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/03/segunda-viagem-de-sinbad.html' title='A Segunda Viagem de Sinbad'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-9154183125487619260</id><published>2009-03-16T16:48:00.015Z</published><updated>2009-03-16T17:45:46.786Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Álvaro de Campos</title><content type='html'>APOSTILA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitar o tempo!&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que é o tempo para que eu o aproveite?&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitar o tempo!&lt;br /&gt;Nenhum dia sem linha ...&lt;br /&gt;O trabalho honesto e superior...&lt;br /&gt;O trabalho à Virgílio, à Milton...&lt;br /&gt;Mas é tão difícil ser honesto ou ser superior!&lt;br /&gt;É tão pouco provável ser Milton ou ser Virgílio!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitar o tempo!&lt;br /&gt;Tirar da alma os bocados precisos - nem mais nem menos -&lt;br /&gt;Para com eles juntar os cubos ajustados&lt;br /&gt;Que fazem gravuras certas na história&lt;br /&gt;(E estão certas também do lado de baixo, que se não vê)...&lt;br /&gt;Pôr as sensações em castelo de cartas, pobre China dos serões,&lt;br /&gt;E os pensamentos em dominó, igual contra igual,&lt;br /&gt;E a vontade em carambola difícil...&lt;br /&gt;Imagens de jogos ou de paciências ou de passatempos -&lt;br /&gt;Imagens da vida, imagens das vidas, imagem da Vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verbalismo...&lt;br /&gt;Sim, verbalismo...&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitar o tempo!&lt;br /&gt;Não ter um minuto que o exame de consciência desconheça...&lt;br /&gt;Não ter um acto indefinido nem factício...&lt;br /&gt;Não ter um movimento desconforme com propósitos...&lt;br /&gt;Boas-maneiras da alma...&lt;br /&gt;Elegância de persistir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitar o tempo!&lt;br /&gt;Meu coração está cansado como um mendigo verdadeiro.&lt;br /&gt;Meu cérebro está pronto como um fardo posto ao canto.&lt;br /&gt;Mau canto (verbalismo!) está tal como está e é triste.&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitar o tempo!&lt;br /&gt;Desde que comecei a escrever passaram cinco minutos.&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitei-os ou não?&lt;br /&gt;Se não sei se os aproveitei, que saberei de outros minutos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Passageira que viajavas tantas vezes no mesmo compartimento comigo&lt;br /&gt;No comboio suburbano,&lt;br /&gt;Chegaste a interessar-te por mim?&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitei o tempo olhando para ti?&lt;br /&gt;Qual foi o ritmo do nosso sossego no comboio andante?&lt;br /&gt;Qual foi o entendimento que não chegámos a ter?&lt;br /&gt;Qual foi a vida que houve nisto? Que foi isto à vida?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitar o tempo!...&lt;br /&gt;Ah, deixem-me não aproveitar nada!&lt;br /&gt;Nem tempo, nem ser, nem memórias de tempo ou de ser!&lt;br /&gt;Deixem-me ser uma folha de árvore, titilada por brisas,&lt;br /&gt;A poeira de uma estrada, involuntária e sozinha,&lt;br /&gt;O regato casual das chuvas que vão acabando,&lt;br /&gt;O vinco deixado na estrada pelas rodas enquanto não vêm outras,&lt;br /&gt;O pião do garoto, que vai a parar,&lt;br /&gt;E oscila, no mesmo movimento que o da terra,&lt;br /&gt;E estremece, no mesmo movimento que o da alma,&lt;br /&gt;E cai como caem os deuses, no chão do Destino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Obrigado ao Fernando Cabral Martins, "Ficções do Interlúdio". Ed. Assírio &amp;amp; Alvim. 1998.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-9154183125487619260?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/9154183125487619260/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=9154183125487619260' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/9154183125487619260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/9154183125487619260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/03/alvaro-de-campos.html' title='Álvaro de Campos'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1283570353112917171</id><published>2009-01-15T19:00:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-15T19:07:52.733Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pintura'/><title type='text'>Hieronymus Bosch -  O Jardim das Delícias</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SW-IR0iE0bI/AAAAAAAAAGw/jnM6q1cq_L0/s1600-h/O+Jardim+das+Del%C3%ADcias+-+Hieronymus+Bosch+%28entre+1480+e+1490%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 170px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SW-IR0iE0bI/AAAAAAAAAGw/jnM6q1cq_L0/s320/O+Jardim+das+Del%C3%ADcias+-+Hieronymus+Bosch+%28entre+1480+e+1490%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291597926924341682" border="0" /&gt;Hieronymus Bosch, pseudónimo de Jeroen van Aeken&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(c. 1450 - 1516)&lt;br /&gt;Artista e gravador neerlandês. Este quadro terá sido pintado entre 1480 e 1490.&lt;br /&gt;Está no Museu do Prado, em Madrid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1283570353112917171?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1283570353112917171/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1283570353112917171' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1283570353112917171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1283570353112917171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2009/01/hieronymus-bosch-o-jardim-das-delcias.html' title='Hieronymus Bosch -  O Jardim das Delícias'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SW-IR0iE0bI/AAAAAAAAAGw/jnM6q1cq_L0/s72-c/O+Jardim+das+Del%C3%ADcias+-+Hieronymus+Bosch+%28entre+1480+e+1490%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-7165639437077136919</id><published>2008-12-31T00:03:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-31T00:11:21.292Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pintura'/><title type='text'>Rembrandt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SVq3T-qVjAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/hJjr1axARJY/s1600-h/rembrandt.night-watch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SVq3T-qVjAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/hJjr1axARJY/s320/rembrandt.night-watch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285738666538667010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A RONDA DA NOITE - 1642&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mudança de turno da companhia do Capitão Frans Cocq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;Obrigado ao WebMuseum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-7165639437077136919?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/7165639437077136919/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=7165639437077136919' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7165639437077136919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7165639437077136919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/12/rembrandt.html' title='Rembrandt'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SVq3T-qVjAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/hJjr1axARJY/s72-c/rembrandt.night-watch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6903577650563593751</id><published>2008-12-11T19:10:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:33:20.830Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Trouble Along the Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Trata-se de um filme de 1953, realizado por Michael &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Curtiz&lt;/span&gt; (1886-1962), realizador de origem húngara, cujo filme mais conhecido é sem dúvida &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Casablanca&lt;/span&gt;, com Humphrey &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bogart&lt;/span&gt; e &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ingrid&lt;/span&gt; Bergman. Este filme, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Trouble&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Along&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, que se estreou em Portugal em Junho de 1954, no cinema Império, com o título Barreiras Vencidas, causou-me bastante impressão quando o vi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Era bastante novo na altura, já não me lembro do ano. Salvo foi no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Odeon&lt;/span&gt;, esse velho cinema da Rua do Condes, onde &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;costumavam&lt;/span&gt; passar filmes cor de rosa. Este não é bem desse tipo. Trata-se da história de um treinador de futebol americano, já veterano, alcoólico, traído pela esposa, e que luta para conservar a filha, ainda novita, e com um jeito grande para o futebol americano. O papel é desempenhado pelo John Wayne, de quem eu era fã nos meus anos de juventude.  O filme tem imensas peripécias, o treinador veterano é alvo de acusações sobre a contratação de jogadores, cujos pormenores já não sou capaz de precisar. Ficaram-me a relação do pai com a filha, a interpretação do John Wayne (soberba! quem disse que ele era mau actor?)  e dos restantes, destacando-se Donna Reed e Charles Coburn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que John Wayne, como actor, era condicionado por vários factores, como a estatura e a carranca pesada. Mas conseguia, neste filme, transmitir uma sensação de fragilidade e de emotividade nas relações afectivas, não condizente com a imagem que deixou. Muitos outros não seriam capazes daquela interpretação. Pesou, é claro, no seu trabalho, a excelência do realizador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os elementos que aqui utilizei recolhi-os na Cinemateca e no IMDB - Internet Movie Database.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6903577650563593751?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6903577650563593751/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6903577650563593751' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6903577650563593751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6903577650563593751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/12/trouble-along-way.html' title='Trouble Along the Way'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1837204794337143118</id><published>2008-11-12T01:09:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-12T01:13:26.108Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neo-Realismo'/><title type='text'>Soeiro Pereira Gomes (1909-1934)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SRotEG24n7I/AAAAAAAAAGg/JGxre-cL0bc/s1600-h/Soeiro+Pereira+Gomes+%28ampl%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SRotEG24n7I/AAAAAAAAAGg/JGxre-cL0bc/s320/Soeiro+Pereira+Gomes+%28ampl%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267572262746759090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Escritor, político, cidadão, que Alhandra nunca esquecerá. Ver biografia em www.vidaslusofonas.pt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1837204794337143118?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1837204794337143118/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1837204794337143118' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1837204794337143118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1837204794337143118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/11/soeiro-pereira-gomes-1909-1934.html' title='Soeiro Pereira Gomes (1909-1934)'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SRotEG24n7I/AAAAAAAAAGg/JGxre-cL0bc/s72-c/Soeiro+Pereira+Gomes+%28ampl%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-7803734721892365745</id><published>2008-11-05T16:45:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-05T16:59:01.420Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neo-Realismo'/><title type='text'>Manuel da Fonseca - Cerromaior</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Li este livro ontem. Nunca o tinha lido.  Manuel  da Fonseca escreveu-o em 1943, o ano em que eu nasci.  Li-o numa edição de 2000, da Planeta Agostini, que julgo reproduzir a que saiu em 1981, com a chancela da Caminho. Tem um prefácio do autor, datado de 1982. Conta que a  censura fez cortes ao original e que, tendo extraviado o original, teve de o reconstituir, já depois do 25 de Abril.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julgo que nalguns passos se encontram certas dissonâncias, que serão resultado desses cortes, e de uma recuperação incompleta. Mas o livro é extraordinário. Com algumas personagens tipo, e uma descrição do ambiente natural e social brilhante. Manuel da Fonseca conseguiu criar um enredo dramático, inserido num meio que ele criou, mas que reproduz obviamente o seu Alentejo natal. Trata-se de um romance curto, mas muito rigoroso e eficaz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julgo que este romance já foi levado ao cinema. Nunca vi o filme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-7803734721892365745?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/7803734721892365745/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=7803734721892365745' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7803734721892365745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7803734721892365745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/11/manuel-da-fonseca-cerromaior.html' title='Manuel da Fonseca - Cerromaior'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3203460455623468132</id><published>2008-10-20T16:15:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T16:20:57.346+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>Sinbad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:EngrvrsOldEng BT;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-second Night,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when Sindbad the Seaman said to the captain, "These bales are mine, the goods which Allah hath given me," the other exclaimed, "There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! Verily, there is neither conscience nor good faith left among men!" said I, "O Rais,&lt;a name="18"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; what mean these words, seeing that I have told thee my case?" And he answered, "Because thou heardest me say that I had with me goods whose owner was drowned, thou thinkest to take them without right; but this is forbidden by law to thee, for we saw him drown before our eyes, together with many other passengers, nor was one of them saved. So how canst thou pretend that thou art the owner of the goods?" "O captain," said I, "listen to my story and give heed to my words, and my truth will be manifest to thee; for lying and leasing are the letter-marks of the hypocrites." Then I recounted to him all that had befallen me since I sailed from Baghdad with him to the time when we came to the fish-island where we were nearly drowned; and I reminded him of certain matters which had passed between us; whereupon both he and the merchants were certified at the truth of my story and recognized me and gave me joy of my deliverance, saying, "By Allah, we thought not that thou hadst escaped drowning! But the Lord hath granted thee new life." Then they delivered my bales to me, and I found my name written thereon, nor was aught thereof lacking. So I opened them and making up a present for King Mihrjan of the finest and costliest of the contents, caused the sailors carry it up to the palace, where I went in to the King and laid my present at his feet, acquainting him with what had happened, especially concerning the ship and my goods; whereat he wondered with exceeding wonder and the truth of all that I had told him was made manifest to him. His affection for me redoubled after that and he showed me exceeding honour and bestowed on me a great present in return for mine. Then I sold my bales and what other matters I owned making a great profit on them, and bought me other goods and gear of the growth and fashion of the island-city. When the merchants were about to start on their homeward voyage, I embarked on board the ship all that I possessed, and going in to the King, thanked him for all his favours and friendship and craved his leave to return to my own land and friends. He farewelled me and bestowed on me great store of the country-stuffs and produce; and I took leave of him and embarked. Then we set sail and fared on nights and days, by the permission of Allah Almighty; and Fortune served us and Fate favoured us, so that we arrived in safety at Bassorah-city where I landed rejoiced at my safe return to my natal soil. After a short stay, I set out for Baghdad, the House of Peace, with store of goods and commodities of great price. Reaching the city in due time, I went straight to my own quarter and entered my house where all my friends and kinsfolk came to greet me. Then I bought me eunuchs and concubines, servants and negro slaves till I had a large establishment, and I bought me houses, and lands and gardens, till I was richer and in better case than before, and returned to enjoy the society of my friends and familiars more assiduously than ever, forgetting all I had suffered of fatigue and hardship and strangerhood and every peril of travel; and I applied myself to all manner joys and solaces and delights, eating the dantiest viands and drinking the deliciousest wines; and my wealth allowed this state of things to endure. "This, then, is the story of my first voyage, and to-morrow, Inshallah! I will tell you the tale of the second of my seven voyages." (Saith he who telleth the tale), Then Sindbad the Seaman made Sindbad the Landsman sup with him and bade give him an hundred gold pieces, saying, "Thou hast cheered us with thy company this day."&lt;a name="19"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The Porter thanked him and, taking the gift, went his way, pondering that which he had heard and marvelling mightily at what things betide mankind. He passed the night in his own place and with early morning repaired to the abode of Sindbad the Seaman, who received him with honour and seated him by his side. As soon as the rest of the company was assembled, he set meat and drink before them and, when they had well eaten and drunken and were merry and in cheerful case, he took up his discourse and recounted to them in these words the narrative of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:TimeScrDMed;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;a name="133.2"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3203460455623468132?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3203460455623468132/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3203460455623468132' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3203460455623468132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3203460455623468132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/10/sinbad.html' title='Sinbad'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4244543776818358561</id><published>2008-10-19T03:48:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T03:54:39.330+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comentário do dia a dia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Fellini - Oito e Meio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Há dois meses que não escrevia no meu blogue. Cá estou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta noite estive a ver na RTP2 Oito e Meio, de Fellini. Para alguns um exercício narcísico, é na realidade um portento de auto-análise, e um esforço terrível para se colocar perante os outros e a vida em geral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perto do fim, uma frase tremenda: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;que enorme pretensão, a de julgar que os outros podem aprender alguma coisa com o medonho catálogo das nossas asneiras!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4244543776818358561?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4244543776818358561/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4244543776818358561' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4244543776818358561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4244543776818358561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/10/fellini-oito-e-meio.html' title='Fellini - Oito e Meio'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4525408832387684036</id><published>2008-08-18T00:11:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T00:32:27.658+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Taxi Driver</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ontem à noite, vi na RTP2, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Taxi&lt;/span&gt; Driver, de Martin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Scorcese&lt;/span&gt;. O filme é de 1976. O argumento é de Paul Schrader. Gostei imenso. Argumento muito forte, de um indivíduo veterano do Vietname, muito perturbado, que vem continuar a guerra nas ruas de Nova Iorque. Interpretação absolutamente espantosa de Robert De Niro. Muito bem acompanhado por Harvey Keitel, Judie Foster, Cybill Shepperd, Peter Boyle e outros. Bastante convincente a composição da personagem da prostituta infantil, interpretada por Jodie Foster. Martin Scorcese também desempenha um papel, o do paranóico candidato a assassino da esposa. O melhor de tudo será a visão que o filme  transmite da cidade, muito realista, e do modo como as pessoas a vivem. A expressão usada para sintetizar a mensagem do filme é a da alienação urbana. O quase &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;happy end&lt;/span&gt; não prejudica em nada a visão rigorosa da realidade social, contida em Taxi Driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4525408832387684036?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4525408832387684036/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4525408832387684036' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4525408832387684036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4525408832387684036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/08/taxi-driver.html' title='Taxi Driver'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8381885924010352289</id><published>2008-08-13T22:56:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T23:15:28.183+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Philadelphia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Vi este filme a noite passada, às 2 da manhã, no Canal Hollywood. É muito bom. De 1993, foi realizado por Jonathan Demme. O argumento é de Ron Nyswaner. É comovente e fascinante, é o que consigo. Ataca os problemas da segregação dos doentes de SIDA, da homofobia e do preconceito em geral com brilhantismo raro. Os actores são excepcionais, mas o destaque é para Tom Hanks, na figura central, que é alvo de despedimento por ser homossexual e ter sida. Mas Denzel Washington acompanha muito bem Tom Hanks, no papel de advogado de defesa. Espero que não acabe como o novo John Wayne (que até nem era mau actor).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os restantes actores, entre os quais se incluem Joanne Woodward (que grande actriz, que viveu na sombra do marido, Paul Newman), Jason Robards e Antonio Banderas, acompanham muito bem. É um grande filme, que defende muito bem a sua mensagem, de combate ao preconceito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8381885924010352289?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8381885924010352289/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8381885924010352289' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8381885924010352289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8381885924010352289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/08/philadelphia.html' title='Philadelphia'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8025441546470136868</id><published>2008-08-10T19:56:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T18:15:35.655+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pintura'/><title type='text'>Modigliani</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SJ86NzrcPQI/AAAAAAAAADk/QmT0ME_YHH0/s1600-h/Desnudo-1256x1984.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SJ86NzrcPQI/AAAAAAAAADk/QmT0ME_YHH0/s320/Desnudo-1256x1984.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232965300912930050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nua sentada no sofá - Modigliani (1884 - 1920)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Obrigado a Artelista (www.artelista.com)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8025441546470136868?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8025441546470136868/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8025441546470136868' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8025441546470136868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8025441546470136868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/08/modigliani.html' title='Modigliani'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SJ86NzrcPQI/AAAAAAAAADk/QmT0ME_YHH0/s72-c/Desnudo-1256x1984.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6522687350171026037</id><published>2008-07-23T14:40:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T14:49:16.735+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>Sinbad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:EngrvrsOldEng BT;font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;When it was the Five Hundred and Forty-first Night,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Seaman said:--When they asked me of my country I questioned them of theirs and they told me that they were of various castes, some being called Shakiriyah&lt;a name="14"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wollamshram.ca/1001/Vol_6/v6notes.htm#14" target="v6_Bottom"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;who are the noblest of their castes and neither oppress nor offer violence to any, and others Brahmans, a folk who abstain from wine, but live in delight and solace and merriment and own camels and horses and cattle. Moreover, they told me that the people of India are divided into two-and-seventy castes, and I marvelled at this with exceeding marvel. Amongst other things that I saw in King Mihrjan's dominions was an island called Kásil, &lt;a name="15"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wollamshram.ca/1001/Vol_6/v6notes.htm#15" target="v6_Bottom"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;wherin all night is heard the beating of drums and tabrets; but we were told by the neighbouring islanders and by travellers that the inhabitants are people of diligence and judgment.&lt;a name="16"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wollamshram.ca/1001/Vol_6/v6notes.htm#16" target="v6_Bottom"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In this sea I saw also a fish two hundred cubits long and the fishermen fear it; so they strike together pieces of wood and put it to flight.&lt;a name="17"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;I also saw another fish, with a head like that of an owl, besides many other wonders and rarities, which it would be tedious to recount. I occupied myself thus in visiting the islands till, one day, as I stood in the port, with a staff in my hand, according to my custom, behold, a great ship, wherein were many merchants, came sailing for the harbour. When it reached the small inner port where ships anchor under the city, the master furled his sails and making fast to the shore, put out the landing-planks, whereupon the crew fell to breaking bulk and landing cargo whilst I stood by, taking written note of them. They were long in bringing the goods ashore so I asked the master, "Is there aught left in thy ship?"; and he answered, "O my lord, there are divers bales of merchandise in the hold, whose owner was drowned from amongst us at one of the islands on our course; so his goods remained in our charge by way of trust and we purpose to sell them and note their price, that we may convey it to his people in the city of Baghdad, the Home of Peace." "What was the merchant's name?" quoth I, and quoth he, "Sindbad the Seaman;" whereupon I straitly considered him and knowing him, cried out to him with a great cry, saying, "O captain, I am that Sindbad the Seaman who travelled with other merchants; and when the fish heaved and thou calledst to us some saved themselves and others sank, I being one of them. But Allah Almighty threw in my way a great tub of wood, of those the crew had used to wash withal, and the winds and waves carried me to this island, where by Allah's grace, I fell in with King Mihrjan's grooms and they brought me hither to the King their master. When I told him my story, he entreated me with favour and made me his harbour-master, and I have prospered in his service and found acceptance with him. These bales, therefore are mine, the goods which God hath given me."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6522687350171026037?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6522687350171026037/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6522687350171026037' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6522687350171026037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6522687350171026037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/07/sinbad.html' title='Sinbad'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-2367055303484057759</id><published>2008-06-02T16:20:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T16:38:17.380+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><title type='text'>Ossela, terra natal de Ferreira de Castro</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No sábado passado, dia 31 de Maio de 2008, fui a Ossela, concelho de Oliveira de Azeméis, em companhia de um grupo de pessoas ligadas à Cooperativa Alves Redol. Esta viagem foi organizada pelo Leonel Garcia, Presidente da Direcção da Cooperativa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em Ossela nasceu Ferreira de Castro, em 1898.  Visitámos a Casa-Museu Ferreira de Castro, que se encontra muito negligenciada, e tendo de interesse apenas uma sala onde estão expostas numerosas edições, em várias línguas, de obras do escritor, e de outras, como de Diana de Lis, que foi companheira do escritor. Explicou-nos Carlos Castro, que se encontra à frente do Centro de Estudos Ferreira de Castro, que a Câmara Municipal de Oliveira de Azeméis não tem feito ali os investimentos necessários a dar a dignidade merecida à Casa Museu, tendo mesmo retirado dali vários items, como o original de &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Volta ao Mundo&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visitámos também o cemitério de Ossela, onde se encontram sepultadas Diana de Lis, e Elena Muriel, a viúva de Ferreira de Castro. Este, tanto quanto sei, está sepultado em Sintra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-2367055303484057759?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/2367055303484057759/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=2367055303484057759' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2367055303484057759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2367055303484057759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/06/ossela-terra-natal-de-ferreira-de.html' title='Ossela, terra natal de Ferreira de Castro'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8729448007669098910</id><published>2008-06-02T16:11:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T16:19:40.805+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Collateral</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ontem à noite vi na TVI o filme &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Collateral&lt;/span&gt;. Saiu em 2004 e o realizador foi Michael Mann. Suspense intenso, que prende fortemente o espectador. O argumento, embora não seja de uma grande originalidade, está muito bem feito. Assenta num assassino que toma um táxi para ir matar, uma a uma, cinco pessoas. Tom Cruise, por uma vez, muito bem, e Jamie Foxx, com muito bom trabalho. Os cenários e o filme em geral merecem nota alta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8729448007669098910?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8729448007669098910/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8729448007669098910' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8729448007669098910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8729448007669098910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/06/collateral.html' title='Collateral'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-2559575642159588857</id><published>2008-05-23T16:47:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T17:18:41.247+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Economia e Sociedade; Socialismo ou Barbárie'/><title type='text'>A propósito de "O Tibete apanhado no sonho do Outro"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lemos no Monde Diplomatique deste mês de Maio, artigo do filósofo Slavoj Zizek, último parágrafo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Que irá acontecer se a conjugação viciosa do chicote asiático e da Bolsa europeia se revelar economicamente mais eficaz do que o nosso capitalismo liberal? Será isso um sinal de que a democracia, tal como a entendemos, já não é uma condição e um motor de desenvolvimento económico, mas sim um obstáculo a este último?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta é a questão mais pertinente dos tempos actuais. Glorifica-se o capitalismo e procura-se associá-lo ao triunfo da democracia.  Mas o que se procura etiquetar como o triunfo do capitalismo sobre o marxismo e o socialismo em geral vai levar na realidade a humanidade a um retrocesso horroroso, e reduzi-la a um estilo de vida que se resume no que Malthus diz (transcrição em História das Ideias Políticas, de Jean Touchard, Vol. II, pág. 198, edição portuguesa da Europa- América, tradução de Mário Braga):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Os pobres não têm qualquer direito a ser mantidos [...] Não está no poder dos ricos fornecer aos pobres ocupação e pão, e, consequentemente, os pobres, pela própria natureza das coisas, nenhum direito têm de lhos pedir."&lt;/span&gt; Refere a seguir Jean Touchard: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Aos pobres, portanto, o jovem pastor recomenda o celibato até que possam constituir uma família".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É para estes tempos que vamos regredir, senão pior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-2559575642159588857?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/2559575642159588857/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=2559575642159588857' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2559575642159588857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2559575642159588857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/05/propsito-de-o-tibete-apanhado-no-sonho.html' title='A propósito de &quot;O Tibete apanhado no sonho do Outro&quot;'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3850833707319528948</id><published>2008-05-21T01:44:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T01:54:09.126+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Silent Fall</title><content type='html'>Vi este filme ontem à noite (segunda para terça-feira, a partir de cerca da uma da manhã) na RTP1.&lt;br /&gt;Gostei bastante. Um argumento forte e boas interpretações. Gira á volta de uma história de abuso infantil que acaba em assassinato. Mereceu uma introdução na wikipedia e uma referência no IMDB (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0111187/) - Internet Movie Database. É de 1994. Direcção de Bruce Beresford.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O título em português é Sem Testemunhas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3850833707319528948?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3850833707319528948/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3850833707319528948' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3850833707319528948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3850833707319528948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/05/silent-fall.html' title='Silent Fall'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5664508063835235708</id><published>2008-05-12T02:42:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T03:09:02.111+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Summer of Sam</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Há pouco estive a ver no canal AXN, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SOS - Summer of Sam&lt;/span&gt;, de &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Spike Lee&lt;/span&gt;. Se bem percebi, este filme data de 1999. Foi apresentado em Portugal com o título &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Verão Escaldante&lt;/span&gt;. Muito divertido, e bastante corrosivo, trata da vida em Nova Iorque de indivíduos que vivem na marginalidade ou à beira dela (trata-se do lumpenproletariado), tendo como pano de fundo a perturbação causada por um serial killer na vida da comunidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extremamente bem feita, apresenta vários actores famosos como John Leguizamo, Adrien Brody, Mira Sorvino, Jennifer Exposito e outros. De destacar a colaboração de Michael Imperioli (famoso pela sua intervenção na série &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Família Soprano&lt;/span&gt;), que intervem como actor, colaborou no argumento e noutros aspectos do filme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Spike Lee&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Shelton Jackson Lee&lt;/span&gt;) é um cineasta ainda relativamente jovem (nasceu em 1957, salvo erro, na Georgia) que tem demonstrado um capacidade fora do vulgar, tanto no aspecto do conteúdo dos seus filmes, como também do respectivo tratamento. No princípio da sua carreira ter-se-á centrado muito no problema racial (não conheço os seus filmes), mas depois evoluiu para uma crítica social mais abrangente. Neste filme, que se passa sobretudo entre italianos e judeus, exibe, com maestria, um espírito crítico muito preciso e um enorme conhecimento da vida novaiorquina. Atinge uma enorme eficácia ao conseguir mostrar a corrupção e o desencanto vigentes na Big Apple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5664508063835235708?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5664508063835235708/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5664508063835235708' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5664508063835235708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5664508063835235708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/05/summer-of-sam.html' title='Summer of Sam'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5525198151820302739</id><published>2008-04-30T02:15:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T02:23:42.823+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pintura'/><title type='text'>Cândido Portinari (1903-1962)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SBfIbXICPiI/AAAAAAAAADc/seP_jr58_sc/s1600-h/Caf%C3%A9+-+1935.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SBfIbXICPiI/AAAAAAAAADc/seP_jr58_sc/s320/Caf%C3%A9+-+1935.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194841067584896546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Café - 1935&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Museu Nacional de Belas Artes - Rio de Janeiro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Com agradecimentos ao Projecto Portinari (www.portinari.org.br)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5525198151820302739?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5525198151820302739/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5525198151820302739' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5525198151820302739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5525198151820302739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/04/cndido-portinari-1903-1962.html' title='Cândido Portinari (1903-1962)'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SBfIbXICPiI/AAAAAAAAADc/seP_jr58_sc/s72-c/Caf%C3%A9+-+1935.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4740710150905251165</id><published>2008-04-10T00:47:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T00:59:43.151+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vidas Lusófonas'/><title type='text'>Vidas Lusófonas - biografia de Arlindo Vicente</title><content type='html'>No site &lt;a href="http://www.vidaslusofonas.pt/"&gt;http://www.vidaslusofonas.pt/&lt;/a&gt; saiu no passado dia 5 a biografia de Arlindo Vicente. Foi candidato à Presidência da República em 1958. Advogado, activista contra a ditadura de Salazar, foi preso político. Como uma vocação precoce para o desenho e a pintura, foi um artista emérito, embora a intensidade da sua carreira política e de advogado, não o tivesse deixado, tanto quanto queria, dedicar-se às artes. Mesmo atingiu nível notável como retratista, pintor de causas sociais, e não só. Admirador de Cézanne, participou em inúmeras exposições e mostras, e retratos seus ficaram para a posteridade, como os de Torga e José Régio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4740710150905251165?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4740710150905251165/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4740710150905251165' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4740710150905251165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4740710150905251165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/04/vidas-lus.html' title='Vidas Lusófonas - biografia de Arlindo Vicente'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-153548231321554465</id><published>2008-03-27T18:14:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-03-27T18:18:22.188Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>Sinbad - A Primeira Viagem</title><content type='html'>When it was the Five Hundred and Fortieth Night,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="rn2664"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="rn2665"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="rn2666"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the Syce said to Sindbad the Seaman, “I will bear thee to King Mihrjan and show thee our country. And know that hadst thou not happened on us thou hadst perished miserably and none had known of thee: but I will be the means of the saving of thy life and of thy return to thine own land.” I called down blessings on him and thanked him for his kindness and courtesy; and, while we were yet talking, behold, the stallion came up out of the sea; and, giving a great cry, sprang upon the mare and covered her. When he had done his will of her, he dismounted and would have carried her away with him, but could not by reason of the tether. She kicked and cried out at him, whereupon the groom took a sword and target and ran out of the underground saloon, smiting the buckler with the blade and calling to his company, who came up shouting and brandishing spears; and the stallion took fright at them and plunging into the sea, like a buffalo, disappeared under the waves. After this we sat awhile, till the rest of the grooms came up, each leading a mare, and seeing me with their fellow-Syce, questioned me of my case and I repeated my story to them. Thereupon they drew near me and spreading the table, ate and invited me to eat; so I ate with them, after which they took horse and mounting me on one of the mares, set out with me and fared on without ceasing, till we came to the capital city of King Mihrjan, and going in to him acquainted him with my story. Then he sent for me, and when they set me before him and salams had been exchanged, he gave me a cordial welcome and wishing me long life bade me tell him my tale. So I related to him all that I had seen and all that had befallen me from first to last, whereat he marvelled and said to me, “By Allah, O my son, thou hast indeed been miraculously preserved! Were not the term of thy life a long one, thou hadst not escaped from these straits; but praised by Allah for safety!” Then he spoke cheerily to me and entreated me with kindness and consideration: moreover, he made me his agent for the port and registrar of all ships that entered the harbour. I attended him regularly, to receive his commandments, and he favoured me and did me all manner of kindness and invested me with costly and splendid robes. Indeed, I was high in credit with him, as an intercessor for the folk and an intermediary between them and him, when they wanted aught of him. I abode thus a great while and, as often as I passed through the city to the port, I questioned the merchants and travellers and sailors of the city of Baghdad; so haply I might hear of an occasion to return to my native land, but could find none who knew it or knew any who resorted thither. At this I was chagrined, for I was weary of long strangerhood; and my disappointment endured for a time till one day, going in to King Mihrjan, I found him with a company of Indians. I saluted them and they returned my salam; and politely welcomed me and asked me of my country.—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-153548231321554465?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/153548231321554465/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=153548231321554465' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/153548231321554465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/153548231321554465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/03/sinbad-primeira-viagem.html' title='Sinbad - A Primeira Viagem'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8695500601621861238</id><published>2008-03-06T17:33:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-03-06T17:47:27.100Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gente Gira'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amigos'/><title type='text'>Fernando de Jesus Almeida</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Soube hoje que morreu o Fernando. Terá sido em Janeiro. Morreu, segundo me disse o José Luís, com uma doença cancerosa (foi o que percebi). É um grande desgosto. Não sei como transmitir a enorme perda que é a morte do Fernando. Ele tinha mais três anos do que eu. Se não estou enganado ele, este ano de 2008, completaria 68 anos. Tivemos uma discussão parva há alguns trinta anos e nunca mais falámos. Estou desolado. Amanhã, sexta-feira, 7 de Março, vou ver se encontro a viúva e as filhas, para lhes dar os meus pêsames.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O Fernando era um cantor de enorme qualidade. Nós chamavamos-lhe o Elvis português. Pouco ambicioso, nunca quis enveredar por uma carreira comercial. Era bancário de profissão. Reformou-se há já muitos anos, já não me lembro quantos. Anarquista convicto, colaborava com a Batalha, o jornal que chegou a ser dirigido pelo Emídio Santana.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Voltarei a falar do Fernando, que muito merece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8695500601621861238?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8695500601621861238/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8695500601621861238' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8695500601621861238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8695500601621861238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/03/fernando-de-jesus-almeida.html' title='Fernando de Jesus Almeida'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-168396859605139445</id><published>2008-03-05T19:23:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-03-05T19:46:52.285Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><title type='text'>Nick Hornby - How to be Good</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A semana passada conclui  a leitura deste livro de Nick Hornby. É um inglês de cerca de 50 anos, já com várias novelas publicados, e que também escreve outro tipo de trabalhos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;How to be Good é realmente excelente. Trata-se da história da crise que afecta um casal com dois filhos ainda crianças, ela médica, muito ocupada, e ele, sem emprego, candidato a escritor, completamente falhado. Ela tem uma aventura, e, com o impacto, toda a família tem de reanalisar a situação em que vive. O marido resolve dedicar-se a fazer o bem à sua volta, chegando mesmo a querer escrever um livro, em colaboração com um indivíduo que acolhe em casa, sobre como ser bom (How to be Good).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É um livro muito terno, cheio de humor. As pessoas tratam-se o melhor que podem, sem deixar de fazer muitos disparates. Tendo em conta a bonomia que enche toda a obra, é tremendamente real, e descreve-nos muitas situações perfeitamente possíveis no nosso dia a dia. O grau de humanidade dos personagens, sobretudo dos quatro elementos da família, é altíssimo. A trama está muito bem estruturada, e prende-nos cada vez mais, à medida que se avança na leitura. A compreensão dos personagens entre si é fantástica, sem cair no exagero. Denota que o autor, ele também, deve ser uma pessoa com muita compreensão pelas pessoas que o rodeiam, e não só. Interessantes, as referências ao posicionamento político e social dos intervenientes. Muito curiosa a confrontação com os jovens sem-abrigo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-168396859605139445?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/168396859605139445/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=168396859605139445' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/168396859605139445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/168396859605139445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/03/nick-hornby-how-to-be-good.html' title='Nick Hornby - How to be Good'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1798277346315707261</id><published>2008-02-21T01:29:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-02-21T01:32:17.977Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pintura'/><title type='text'>Paul Cézanne (1839 - 1906)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R7zUQG9flLI/AAAAAAAAADU/UMQqz82T1u8/s1600-h/Jovem+italiana+descansando+sobre+o+cotovelo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169239845526017202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R7zUQG9flLI/AAAAAAAAADU/UMQqz82T1u8/s320/Jovem+italiana+descansando+sobre+o+cotovelo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Entre outros, influenciou o nosso Arlindo Vicente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1798277346315707261?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1798277346315707261/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1798277346315707261' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1798277346315707261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1798277346315707261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/02/paul-czanne-1839-1906.html' title='Paul Cézanne (1839 - 1906)'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R7zUQG9flLI/AAAAAAAAADU/UMQqz82T1u8/s72-c/Jovem+italiana+descansando+sobre+o+cotovelo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6796975575554554302</id><published>2008-02-21T01:22:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-02-21T01:28:29.336Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>Viagem de Sinbad</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-ninth Night,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the ship-master cried to the passengers, "Leave your gear and seek safety, ere ye die;" all who heard him left gear and goods, clothes washed and unwashed, fire pots and brass cooking-pots, and fled back to the ship for their lives, and some reached it while others (amongst whom was I) did not, for suddenly the island shook and sank into the abysses of the deep, with all that were thereon, and the dashing sea surged over it with clashing waves. I sank with the others down, down into the deep, but Almighty Allah preserved me from drowning and threw in my way a great wooden tub of those that had served the ship's company for tubbing. I gripped it for the sweetness of life and, bestriding it like one riding, paddled with my feet like oars, whilst the waves tossed me as in sport right and left. Meanwhile the captain made sail and departed with those who had reached the ship, regardless of the drowning and the drowned; and I ceased not following the vessel with my eyes, till she was hid from sight and I made sure of death. Darkness closed in upon me while in this plight and the winds and waves bore me on all that night and the next day, till the tub brought to with me under the lee of a lofty island, with trees overhanging the tide. I caught hold of a branch and by its aid clambered up on to the land, after coming nigh upon death; but when I reached the shore, I found my legs cramped and numbed and my feet bore traces of the nibbling of fish upon their soles; withal I had felt nothing for excess of anguish and fatigue. I threw myself down on the island ground, like a dead man, and drowned in desolation swooned away, nor did I return to my senses till next morning, when the sun rose and revived me. But I found my feet swollen, so made shift to move by shuffling on my breech and crawling on my knees, for in that island were found store of fruits and springs of sweet water. I ate of the fruits which strengthened me; and thus I abode days and nights, till my life seemed to return and my spirits began to revive and I was better able to move about. So, after due consideration, I fell to exploring the island and diverting myself with gazing upon all things that Allah Almighty had created there; and rested under the trees from one of which I cut me a staff to lean upon. One day as I walked along the marge, I caught sight of some object in the distance and thought it a wild beast or one of the monster-creatures of the sea; but, as I drew near it, looking hard the while, I saw that it was a noble mare, tethered on the beach. Presently I went up to her, but she cried out against me with a great cry, so that I trembled for fear and turned to go away, when there came forth a man from under the earth and followed me, crying out and saying, "Who and whence art thou, and what caused thee to come hither?" "O my lord," answered I, "I am in very sooth, a waif, a stranger, and was left to drown with sundry others by the ship we voyaged in but Allah graciously sent me a wooden tub; so I saved myself thereon and it floated with me, till the waves cast me up on this island." When he heard this, he took my hand and saying, "Come with me," carried me into a great Sardab, or underground chamber, which was spacious as a saloon. He made me sit down at its upper end; then he brought me somewhat of food and, being anhungered, I ate till I was satisfied and refreshed; and when he had put me at mine ease he questioned me of myself, and I told him all that had befallen me from first to last; and, as he wondered at my adventure, I said, "By Allah, O my lord, excuse me; I have told thee the truth of my case and the accident which betided me; and now I desire that thou tell me who thou art and why thou abidest here under the earth and why thou hast tethered yonder mare on the brink of the sea." Answered he, "Know, that I am one of the several who are stationed in different parts of this island, and we are of the grooms of King Mihrjan and under our hand are all his horses. Every month, about new-moon tide we bring hither our best mares which have never been covered, and picket them on the sea-shore and hide ourselves in this place under the ground, so that none may espy us. Presently, the stallions of the sea scent the mares and come up out of the water and seeing no one, leap the mares and do their will of them. When they have covered them, they try to drag them away with them, but cannot, by reason of the leg-ropes; so they cry out at them and butt at them and kick them, which we hearing, know that the stallions have dismounted; so we run out and shout at them, whereupon they are startled and return in fear to the sea. Then the mares conceive by them and bear colts and fillies worth a mint of money, nor is their like to be found on earth's face. This is the time of the coming forth of the sea-stallions; and Inshallah! I will bear thee to King Mihrjan" --And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6796975575554554302?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6796975575554554302/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6796975575554554302' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6796975575554554302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6796975575554554302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/02/viagem-de-sinbad.html' title='Viagem de Sinbad'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5238444632906666287</id><published>2008-02-13T02:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-13T02:03:23.523Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Música'/><title type='text'>O ensino da música</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R7JPu29flKI/AAAAAAAAADM/icd16TfctJE/s1600-h/movarte-net.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166279388993393826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R7JPu29flKI/AAAAAAAAADM/icd16TfctJE/s320/movarte-net.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Será que a ministra não gosta de música?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5238444632906666287?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5238444632906666287/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5238444632906666287' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5238444632906666287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5238444632906666287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/02/o-ensino-da-msica.html' title='O ensino da música'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R7JPu29flKI/AAAAAAAAADM/icd16TfctJE/s72-c/movarte-net.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-7939341329276246338</id><published>2008-01-30T00:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-30T00:11:18.122Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comentário do dia a dia'/><title type='text'>No smoke</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R5--1ZONnwI/AAAAAAAAADE/qvDDZY0lsdU/s1600-h/no_smoke_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161053522502721282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R5--1ZONnwI/AAAAAAAAADE/qvDDZY0lsdU/s320/no_smoke_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com a devida vénia a Raim (&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://raim.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://raim.blogspot.com&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-7939341329276246338?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/7939341329276246338/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=7939341329276246338' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7939341329276246338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7939341329276246338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/01/no-smoke.html' title='No smoke'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R5--1ZONnwI/AAAAAAAAADE/qvDDZY0lsdU/s72-c/no_smoke_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-384211235465252630</id><published>2008-01-26T01:24:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-26T01:31:56.460Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comentário do dia a dia'/><title type='text'>A coisa está feia</title><content type='html'>Hoje rapidamente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Marinho Pinto, bastonário da Ordem dos Advogados, diz que há pessoas corruptas em altos cargos. Vão-lhe cair em cima. Aliás, parece que já estão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os palestinianos estão a fugir em massa de Gaza. Dentro em breve Israel poderá anexar o território à vontade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O nosso Governo agravou as condições para os detentores de certificados de aforro. A banca privada agradece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os serviços de urgência vão de mal a pior. As famosas reformas do Correia de Campos estão a dar mau resultado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-384211235465252630?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/384211235465252630/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=384211235465252630' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/384211235465252630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/384211235465252630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/01/coisa-est-feia.html' title='A coisa está feia'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4615067491697987356</id><published>2008-01-21T02:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-31T01:28:44.745Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><title type='text'>Meyrink. Der Cardinal Napellus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Li, numa edição da Editorial Presença, colecção &lt;strong&gt;A Biblioteca de Babel&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Der Cardinal Napellus&lt;/em&gt;, de &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Gustav Meyrink&lt;/span&gt;. Foi no domingo, dia 20 de Janeiro, no combóio do Porto para Vila Franca de Xira. A tradução é de Maria Jorge Vilar de Figueiredo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;A Biblioteca de Babel é uma colecção de literatura fantástica dirigida por Jorge Luis Borges. Foi editada por Franco Maria Ricci. Jorge Luís Borges seleccionou e prefaciou as trinta obras incluídas nesta colecção. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Gustav Meyer, que alterou o seu apelido para Meyrink, nasceu em Viena em 1868. Morreu em Starnberg, na Baviera, em 1932. A sua obra mais famosa foi &lt;em&gt;Der Golem&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;Der Cardinal Napellus&lt;/em&gt; inclui mais dois contos, &lt;em&gt;J. H. Obereit Besuch bei den Zeitengeln&lt;/em&gt; e &lt;em&gt;Die vier Mondbruder&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Na introdução, Borges diz que Meyrink acreditava que o reino dos mortos penetrava no mundo dos vivos e que o nosso mundo visível era incessantemente invadido pelo outro mundo, invisível.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4615067491697987356?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4615067491697987356/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4615067491697987356' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4615067491697987356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4615067491697987356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/01/meyrink-der-cardinal-napellus.html' title='Meyrink. Der Cardinal Napellus'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1583137586871385048</id><published>2008-01-21T01:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-21T02:15:39.232Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Comentário do dia a dia'/><title type='text'>Isto vai de mal a pior</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Cheguei hoje do Porto, e estive a tentar pôr a leitura dos jornais em dia, e a ver televisão. Três coisas chamaram-me a atenção:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A situação na Saúde. Continuam os encerramentos, seguidos de protestos. É flagrante a intenção de fechar os serviços públicos para abrir caminho aos privados. Já assinei a petição do BE, no blogue do Daniel Oliveira, &lt;em&gt;Arrastão&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;a href="http://arrastao.org/"&gt;http://arrastao.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Apesar de ter sido eleita a nova direcção, continua-se a falar do BCP. O Vítor Constâncio foi chamado à AR, e parece que dá justificações muito insuficientes sobre porque só agora se começou a interessar pelo que se passa lá no BCP. Entretanto o Paulo Teixeira Pinto recebeu uma indemnização monstruosa e uma bruta pensão por ter despedido, ao que diz o Público de sexta-feira passada, dia 18. Parece que já veio desmentir, mas o Público alega ter razão. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Israel está a dar cabo de Gaza em particular e dos palestinianos em geral. Alega que é para se defender, mas só quem não quer ver é que não percebe que estão a querer obrigar os palestinianos a abandonar o país. É evidente tratar-se de genocídio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conclusão: isto está muito feio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1583137586871385048?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1583137586871385048/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1583137586871385048' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1583137586871385048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1583137586871385048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/01/isto-vai-de-mal-pior.html' title='Isto vai de mal a pior'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5144291195373358901</id><published>2008-01-12T03:28:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-05-09T00:52:28.675+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='edgar allan poe'/><title type='text'>Edgar Allan Poe - 1809 - 1949 - Annabel Lee</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;It was many and many a year ago,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In a kingdom by the sea, &lt;br /&gt;That a maiden there lived whom you may know &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;By the name of ANNABEL LEE;-- &lt;br /&gt;And this maiden she lived with no other thought &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Than to love and be loved by me. &lt;br /&gt;She was a child and I was a child, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In this kingdom by the sea, &lt;br /&gt;But we loved with a love that was more than love-- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I and my Annabel Lee-- &lt;br /&gt;With a love that the winged &lt;a href="file:///D:/Poesias/annabellee.htm"&gt;seraphs&lt;/a&gt; of heaven &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Coveted her and me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this was the reason that, long ago, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In this kingdom by the sea, &lt;br /&gt;A wind blew out of a cloud by night &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Chilling my Annabel Lee; &lt;br /&gt;So that her high-born kinsman came &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And bore her away from me, &lt;br /&gt;To shut her up in a &lt;a href="file:///D:/Poesias/annabellee.htm"&gt;sepulchre&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In this kingdom by the sea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Went envying her and me:-- &lt;br /&gt;Yes! that was the reason (as all men know, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In this kingdom by the sea) &lt;br /&gt;That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And killing my Annabel Lee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But our love it was stronger by far than the love &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Of those who were older than we-- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Of many far wiser than we- &lt;br /&gt;And neither the angels in Heaven above, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Nor the demons down under the sea, &lt;br /&gt;Can ever dissever my soul from the soul &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:-- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; &lt;br /&gt;And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; &lt;br /&gt;And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side &lt;br /&gt;Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride, &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In her &lt;a href="file:///D:/Poesias/annabellee.htm"&gt;sepulchre&lt;/a&gt; there by the sea-- &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In her tomb by the side of the sea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5144291195373358901?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5144291195373358901/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5144291195373358901' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5144291195373358901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5144291195373358901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/01/edgar-allan-poe-1809-1949.html' title='Edgar Allan Poe - 1809 - 1949 - Annabel Lee'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3707854801789676527</id><published>2008-01-11T02:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-11T02:51:20.204Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>João Cabral de Melo Neto  (1920 - 1999)</title><content type='html'>De &lt;em&gt;A Psicologia da Composição&lt;/em&gt; (1946-47):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É mineral o papel&lt;br /&gt;onde escrever&lt;br /&gt;o verso; o verso&lt;br /&gt;que é possível não fazer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São minerais&lt;br /&gt;as flores e as plantas,&lt;br /&gt;as frutas, os bichos&lt;br /&gt;quando em estado de palavra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É mineral&lt;br /&gt;a linha do horizonte,&lt;br /&gt;nossos nomes, essas coisas&lt;br /&gt;feitas de palavras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É mineral, por fim,&lt;br /&gt;qualquer livro:&lt;br /&gt;que é mineral a palavra&lt;br /&gt;escrita, a fria natureza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da palavra escrita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Com cumprimentos a Luiz Alberto Machado, do Sobresites&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3707854801789676527?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3707854801789676527/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3707854801789676527' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3707854801789676527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3707854801789676527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/01/joo-cabral-de-melo-neto-1920-1999.html' title='João Cabral de Melo Neto  (1920 - 1999)'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-7410435059398020239</id><published>2008-01-03T00:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-03T01:13:32.632Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Economia e Sociedade'/><title type='text'>O BCP</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A questão do BCP tem dominado a vida nacional. É claro que os prejuízos causados pelos conflitos entre os cavalheiros que campeiam naquela instituição vão ser pagos por todos nós, Entretanto, uma das tretas que nos querem fazer engolir é de que a crise causada por aqueles conflitos deriva da intromissão do Estado. Contudo uma leitura superficial dos jornais revela que muitas coisas falharam e, entre elas, a actuação adequada do órgão fiscalizador, o Banco de Portugal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Na realidade, e ao contrário da citada treta, mais uma vez se desvela o peso que os lobbies privados têm no país. São eles que controlam o Estado, e não o Estado que os controla a eles. Veja-se o número de ex-governantes e de altos funcionários que cirandam pelas listas candidatas. E destaca-se entre eles Miguel Cadilhe, ex - Ministro das Finanças de Cavaco Silva. Na sua lista aparece também Bagão Félix, com grande currículo governamental.  Na outra, a acompanhar Santos Ferreira aparece Armando Vara, veterano da banca e de lugares públicos. Bom, vão-me dizer, tu tens é inveja.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Afianço que não tenho inveja. E que acho que esta &lt;em&gt;Nomenklatura&lt;/em&gt; (não era uma coisa destas que se dizia que existia na União Soviética?) defende os tais lobbies privados (dos quais são membros destacados) e não o Estado, ou os portugueses. Passeiam-se para cá e para lá, e nós a vê-los. Com inveja, claro, dirão. Hoje, o prestimoso José Manuel Fernandes, no seu editorial no Público, diz que "o mais valioso capital social de uma comunidade está para além das leis, está nas regras de comportamento não escritas que tornam insuportável aos seus membros conviver com o excesso de injustiça. Ou ser parte dessa injustiça." Está ele com receio de que apareçam leis a controlar a &lt;em&gt;Nomenklatura&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-7410435059398020239?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/7410435059398020239/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=7410435059398020239' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7410435059398020239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7410435059398020239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/01/o-bcp.html' title='O BCP'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4200487314477785667</id><published>2008-01-03T00:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-03T00:20:22.872Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>Sinbad o Marinheiro - Primeira Viagem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a name="133.1"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;First Voyage of Sindbad the Seaman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"My father was a merchant, one of the notables of my native place, a monied man and ample of means, who died whilst I was yet a child, leaving me much wealth in money and lands and farmhouses. When I grew up, I laid hands on the whole and ate of the best and drank freely and wore rich clothes and lived lavishly, companioning and consorting with youths of my own age, and considering that this course of life would continue for ever and ken no change. Thus did I for a long time, but at last I awoke from my heedlessness and, returning to my senses, I found my wealth had become unwealth and my condition ill-conditioned and all I once hent had left my hand. And recovering my reason I was stricken with dismay and confusion and bethought me of a saying of our lord Solomon, son of David (on whom be peace!), which I had heard aforetime from my father, "Three things are better than other three; the day of death is better than the day of birth, a live dog is better than a dead lion and the grave is better than want."&lt;a name="6"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;Then I got together my remains of estates and property and sold all, even my clothes, for three thousand dirhams, with which I resolved to travel to foreign parts, remembering the saying of the poet, "By means of toil man shall scale the height; * Who to fame aspires mustn't sleep o' night:Who seeketh pearl in the deep must dive, * Winning weal and wealth by his main and might:And who seeketh Fame without toil and strife * Th' impossible seeketh and wasteth life."So taking heart I bought me goods, merchandise and all needed for a voyage and, impatient to be at sea, I embarked, with a company of merchants, on board a ship bound for Bassorah. There we again embarked and sailed many days and nights, and we passed from isle to isle and sea to sea and shore to shore, buying and selling and bartering everywhere the ship touched, and continued our course till we came to an island as it were a garth of the gardens of Paradise. Here the captain cast anchor and making fast to the shore, put out the landing planks. So all on board landed and made furnaces and lighting fires therein, busied themselves in various ways, some cooking and some washing, whilst other some walked about the island for solace, and the crew fell to eating and drinking and playing and sporting. I was one of the walkers but, as we were thus engaged, behold the master who was standing on the gunwale cried out to us at the top of his voice, saying, "Ho there! passengers, run for your lives and hasten back to the ship and leave your gear and save yourselves from destruction, Allah preserve you! For this island whereon ye stand is no true island, but a great fish stationary a-middlemost of the sea, whereon the sand hath settled and trees have sprung up of old time, so that it is become like unto an island;&lt;a name="8"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;but, when ye lighted fires on it, it felt the heat and moved; and in a moment it will sink with you into the sea and ye will all be drowned. So leave your gear and seek your safety ere ye die!"--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4200487314477785667?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4200487314477785667/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4200487314477785667' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4200487314477785667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4200487314477785667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2008/01/sinbad-o-marinheiro-primeira-viagem.html' title='Sinbad o Marinheiro - Primeira Viagem'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-593356434573426664</id><published>2007-12-31T00:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-31T01:19:14.886Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Charlie Chaplin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Charlie Chaplin - Monsieur Verdoux</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ontem à noite (sábado, dia 29, para domingo, dia 30) vi na RTP 2, &lt;em&gt;Monsieur Verdoux&lt;/em&gt;. Trata-se de um filme de Charlie Chaplin, realizado em 1947. O argumento original era de Orson Wells, depois Chaplin adquiriu-o e adaptou-o. A história  inspira-se na vida do criminoso francês Landru, &lt;em&gt;serial killer&lt;/em&gt; executado em 1922, acusado do assassinato de onze pessoas. Parece que este se dedicava a seduzir e matar mulheres sós, para as roubar. Usava o produto do roubo para sustentar a sua família, mulher e quatro filhos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Chaplin procura integrar o criminoso no ambiente da época, de grande crise económica, em que as pessoas eram obrigadas para viverem a lançar mão de toda a espécie de recursos, muitas vezes à margem da moral e das leis. A concorrência feroz, a falta de escrúpulos na política e nos negócios, a coexistência de um luxo chocante e de uma pobreza crudelíssima e sem esperança, levam Mr. Verdoux, bancário lançado no desemprego e no desespero ao fim de 37 anos de trabalho, a procurar no roubo e no assassínio o sustento da mulher inválida e do filho pequeno. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Do que conheço da obra de Chaplin este filme constitue talvez o que melhor traduz o seu pensamento sobre a sociedade contemporânea. Pessoalmente sempre tive dificuldade em apreciar Chaplin, talvez porque sempre o achei de uma tristeza espantosa. Nunca consegui rir com os seus filmes, sem dúvida que por deficiência minha. Mas em Monsieur Verdoux encontrei uma explicação: as graças, os finais felizes que constantemente se encontram nos outros filmes, destinaram-se a amenizar uma visão profunda (e julgo que correcta) do que é a vida na sociedade moderna. A ferocidade do comportamento do personagem, os gagues utilizados para satirizar os vários tipos sociais, caricaturizam os valores dominantes, que a hipocrisia oficial mascara muito mal. Julgo tratar-se efectivamente do auge da obra de Chaplin, e que é este filme que está na origem de ter de se exilar de Hollywood e dos EUA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-593356434573426664?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/593356434573426664/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=593356434573426664' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/593356434573426664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/593356434573426664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/12/charlie-chaplin-monsieur-verdoux.html' title='Charlie Chaplin - Monsieur Verdoux'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8127044507600735773</id><published>2007-12-29T21:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-29T22:21:48.141Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Fernando Pessoa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mensagem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OS TEMPOS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NOITE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A nau de um deles tinha-se perdido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;No mar indefinido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;O segundo pediu licença ao Rei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;De, na fé e na lei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Da descoberta, ir em procura&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Do irmão no mar sem fim e a névoa escura.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tempo foi. Nem primeiro nem segundo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Volveu do fim profundo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Do mar ignoto à pátria por quem dera&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;O enigma que fizera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Então o terceiro a El-Rei rogou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Licença de os buscar, e El-Rei negou.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Como a um cativo, o ouvem a passar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Os servos do solar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;E, quando o vêem, vêem a figura&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Da febre e da amargura,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Com fixos olhos rasos de ânsia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Fitando a proibida azul distância.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Senhor, os dois irmãos do nosso Nome&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;O Poder e o Renome -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ambos se foram pelo mar da idade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;À tua eternidade;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;E com eles de nós se foi&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;O que faz a alma poder ser de herói.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Queremos ir buscá-los, desta vil&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nossa prisão servil:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;É a busca de quem somos, na distância&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;De nós; e, em febre de ânsia,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A Deus as mãos alçamos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Mas Deus não dá licença que partamos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8127044507600735773?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8127044507600735773/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8127044507600735773' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8127044507600735773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8127044507600735773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/12/fernando-pessoa_29.html' title='Fernando Pessoa'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3809666593561877012</id><published>2007-12-26T02:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-26T02:59:07.048Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Música'/><title type='text'>Morreu um gigante da música</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R3HC8Oa434I/AAAAAAAAAC0/E5D6ZrXuWF8/s1600-h/OscarPeterson+1984.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148110188980002690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R3HC8Oa434I/AAAAAAAAAC0/E5D6ZrXuWF8/s320/OscarPeterson+1984.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R3HCS-a433I/AAAAAAAAACs/p_pcgwhe-Q0/s1600-h/OscarPeterson+1984.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    Oscar Peterson (1925-2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3809666593561877012?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3809666593561877012/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3809666593561877012' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3809666593561877012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3809666593561877012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/12/oscar-peterson-1925-2007.html' title='Morreu um gigante da música'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R3HC8Oa434I/AAAAAAAAAC0/E5D6ZrXuWF8/s72-c/OscarPeterson+1984.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5247953832824414204</id><published>2007-12-24T01:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-24T01:05:03.695Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Fernando Pessoa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ricardo Reis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nada Fica&lt;br /&gt;Nada fica de nada. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nada somos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Um pouco ao sol e ao ar nos atrasamos &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Da irrespirável treva que nos pese &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Da humilde terra imposta, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cadáveres adiados que procriam. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Leis feitas, estátuas vistas, odes findas - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tudo tem cova sua. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Se nós, carnes &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A que um íntimo sol dá sangue, temos Poente, por que não elas? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Somos contos contando contos, nada. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5247953832824414204?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5247953832824414204/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5247953832824414204' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5247953832824414204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5247953832824414204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/12/fernando-pessoa.html' title='Fernando Pessoa'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8519540174263515168</id><published>2007-12-20T01:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-20T01:48:34.714Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><title type='text'>Raymond Chandler</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The New York Review of Books&lt;/em&gt;, na sua edição de 6 de Dezembro, traz uma interessante recensão, intitulada &lt;strong&gt;The Knight of Sunset Boulevard&lt;/strong&gt;, relativa ao livro &lt;em&gt;The Long Embrance: Raymond Chandler and the Woman He Loved&lt;/em&gt;, de Judith Freeman. A recensão é de Pico Lyer, que a certa altura transcreve o excerto seguinte, que Chandler terá escrito já perto do fim da sua vida:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You can make all sorts of jokes about sex, but at the bottom of his heart every decent man feels that his approach to the woman he loves is an approach to a shrine. If that feeling is lost, as it seems to have been lost (in this country at the moment) all of us are lost with it. The glory has departed. All that is left is to die in the mud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É sem dúvida uma frase interessante, para quem escreveu &lt;em&gt;Farewell, my lovely&lt;/em&gt; ou &lt;em&gt;The High Window.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8519540174263515168?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8519540174263515168/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8519540174263515168' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8519540174263515168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8519540174263515168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/12/raymond-chandler.html' title='Raymond Chandler'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4253281887861390894</id><published>2007-12-17T01:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-17T02:09:03.130Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Artes Plásticas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neo-Realismo'/><title type='text'>Manuel Ribeiro de Pavia (1907-1957)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R2XWgea432I/AAAAAAAAACk/Li8APRvbby4/s1600-h/l08.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144754002750660450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R2XWgea432I/AAAAAAAAACk/Li8APRvbby4/s400/l08.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Manuel Ribeiro de Pavia, As Líricas - Desenho VIII - Planície (1950).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Líricas encontram-se na Casa Museu Manuel Ribeiro de Pavia, em Pavia, no concelho de Mora. Foram editadas num álbum pela Editorial Inquérito em 1950. O autor dedicou-as ao poeta José Gomes Ferreira. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4253281887861390894?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4253281887861390894/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4253281887861390894' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4253281887861390894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4253281887861390894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/12/manuel-ribeiro-de-pavia-1907-1957-as.html' title='Manuel Ribeiro de Pavia (1907-1957)'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R2XWgea432I/AAAAAAAAACk/Li8APRvbby4/s72-c/l08.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-7404502141659208595</id><published>2007-12-17T00:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-17T01:44:25.114Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><title type='text'>Eça - Prosas Bárbaras</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Notas Marginaes - XIII&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Houve um tempo em que andavam exiladas dos logares humanos as estatuas, que tinham feito a lenda da belleza antiga. Eram de marmore pallido, e a sua nudez era dôce e melodiosa.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Outr'ora, no tempo dos idyllios divinos, quando ainda vivia o grande Pan e havia deuses debaixo das estrellas, ellas viviam entre os jogos, as choreias, a luz e as flôres: brancas, como as espumas ionias; serenas, como a lua de Delos; melodiosas, como a voz das sereias.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Agora andavam perseguidas e errantes pelas florestas sonoras, e envolvidas na consolação imensa, que sáe do canto das aves, e da frescura das plantas.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ás vezes um cavalleiro, batalhador escuro, que voltava das cidades de oiro e de coral, encontrava uma das brancas peregrinas, como uma apparição de languidez e tristeza, evocada pela musica das ramagens. E se elle por acaso deixava mergulhar nos seus olhos os raios brancos e avelludados dos olhos de marmore, ao outro dia os caminheiros, os que vão de noite cantando à molle claridade das estrellas, encontravam, junto das grandes arvores pensadoras, um corpo inanimado e livido, como aquellas creanças das lendas, a quem as bruxas chupam o sangue!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Esta historia é de ha seiscentos annos - e de hontem á noite ...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transcrevi este escrito, que deve datar de 1867, da edição de 1942, da Livraria Lello &amp;amp; Irmão Editores. É o auge do Eça romântico, que ele depois renegou. Nesta edição é de fazer uma referência à introdução de Jayme Batalha Reys, que dá elementos preciosos sobre a pessoa do Eça, e sobre o início da sua carreira literária.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O livro existe na Biblioteca Municipal de Vila Franca de Xira, com a cota QRZ 821.134.3-32&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-7404502141659208595?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/7404502141659208595/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=7404502141659208595' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7404502141659208595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/7404502141659208595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/12/ea-prosas-brbaras.html' title='Eça - Prosas Bárbaras'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8589364997082111282</id><published>2007-12-06T01:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-06T01:37:27.894Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ecologia e Ambiente'/><title type='text'>Uma refinaria a 50 quilómetros de Portugal</title><content type='html'>O Público de 4 de Dezembro de 2007 informa que, na Estremadura espanhola, em Los Santos de Moimona, o grupo Gallardo projecta construir uma refinaria, sem que seja conhecida a avaliação do impacto ambiental. Uma ONG, a Plataforma Cidadã Refinaria Não (PCRN) apresentou uma queixa à Comissão Europeia denunciando um pedido de captação de água na albufeira de Alanje, que poderá ser incompatível com a manutenção do caudal ecológico do Guadiana.  A construção da refinaria implicaria que as águas residuais seriam despejadas no Guadjira, afluente do Guadiana. O projecto é apoiado pela Junta da Extremadura, mas Cristina Narbona, ministra do Ambiente, é de opinião contrária.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Organizações ambientalistas portuguesas (GEOTA, LPN) promoveram no dia 4 de Dezembro, em Moura, um colóquio sobre este projecto. A PCRN diz que é graças à sua movimentação que a refinaria ainda não foi construída. Pergunta-se: para quando uma tomada de posição do governo português sobre este assunto?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8589364997082111282?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8589364997082111282/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8589364997082111282' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8589364997082111282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8589364997082111282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/12/uma-refinaria-50-quilmetros-de-portugal.html' title='Uma refinaria a 50 quilómetros de Portugal'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4785332820289978506</id><published>2007-12-03T01:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-03T02:11:26.741Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Frases'/><title type='text'>Por falar em luxo ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Le luxe, ce n'est pas le contraire de la pauvreté mais celui de la vulgarité&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coco Chanel (1883 - 1971)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta frase vem transcrita no suplemento Primus, do Público de 17 de Novembro de 2007. Numa espécie de editorial, Fernando Correia de Oliveira, pessoa de que nunca ouvi falar, introduz esta frase, e faz vários comentários. Refere inclusive que: "Stéphane Benoit-Godet, director da revista francesa &lt;em&gt;Bilan&lt;/em&gt; aponta, certeiro, quando diz que o luxo "passou de cartão de visita de uma elite, na sua origem, para se transformar em acessório de moda". E prevê que luxo, sendo como foi sempre o que é caro e inútil, será cada vez mais o que é raro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Será que realmente haverá que considerar que está a ocorrer uma alteração no contorno da palavra luxo? E não estaremos perante uma questão muito superficial? De um certo prisma, talvez não. Há realmente uma modificação, no aspecto em que o desenvolvimento da produção, ligado à evolução das tecnologias, levou a que muitas coisas cuja posse ontem seria um luxo hoje já não o é. Contudo constata-se que, da parte de certos eleitos (estará correcto este termo?), permanece uma ânsia de diferenciação do comum dos mortais. E o editorialista remata assim: "Luxo, verdadeiro luxo, nos dias que correm, é também ser indiferente a essa busca de reconhecimento social".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessoalmente, acho haver uma grande ambiguidade nessa afirmação. Quem quer escapar à vulgaridade (como Coco Chanel parece encorajar) procura com certeza o reconhecimento social. Não me parece realmente que Fernando Correia de Oliveira tenha detectado essa contradição com a sua frase final.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4785332820289978506?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4785332820289978506/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4785332820289978506' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4785332820289978506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4785332820289978506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/12/por-falar-em-luxo.html' title='Por falar em luxo ...'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5425451766508874116</id><published>2007-11-27T00:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-27T00:55:15.716Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política e Democracia'/><title type='text'>Sobre a democracia parlamentar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Leiam este escrito de Tony Benn, nos anos 70:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"As a minister, I experienced the power of industrialists and bankers to get their way by use of the crudest form of economic pressure, even blackmail, against a Labour Government. Compared to this, the pressure brought to bear in industrial disputes is minuscule. This power was revealed even more clearly in 1976 when the IMF secured cuts in our public expenditure. These lessons led me to the conclusion that the UK is only superficially governed by MPs and the voters who elect them. &lt;a title="Parliamentary system" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parliamentary_system"&gt;Parliamentary democracy&lt;/a&gt; is, in truth, little more than a means of securing a periodical change in the management team, which is then allowed to preside over a system that remains in essence intact. If the British people were ever to ask themselves what power they truly enjoyed under our political system they would be amazed to discover how little it is, and some new &lt;a title="Chartism" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chartism"&gt;Chartist&lt;/a&gt; agitation might be born and might quickly gather momentum."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Isto tem muita actualidade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5425451766508874116?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5425451766508874116/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5425451766508874116' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5425451766508874116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5425451766508874116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/sobre-democracia-parlamentar.html' title='Sobre a democracia parlamentar'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-525427639223307142</id><published>2007-11-25T01:48:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-11-25T01:50:33.993Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pintura'/><title type='text'>A jangada da Medusa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0jUnxK3CJI/AAAAAAAAACc/XKhKk-rS074/s1600-h/A+jangada+da+Medusa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136589154694924434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0jUnxK3CJI/AAAAAAAAACc/XKhKk-rS074/s400/A+jangada+da+Medusa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A jangada da Medusa foi pintada por Théodore Géricault em 1817. Época Romântica.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-525427639223307142?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/525427639223307142/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=525427639223307142' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/525427639223307142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/525427639223307142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/jangada-da-medusa_25.html' title='A jangada da Medusa'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0jUnxK3CJI/AAAAAAAAACc/XKhKk-rS074/s72-c/A+jangada+da+Medusa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4075145602567511478</id><published>2007-11-24T01:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-24T01:56:25.950Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Os nossos políticos'/><title type='text'>A entrevista de Durão Barroso</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Há dias Durão Barroso deu uma entrevista em que declarou ter sido enganado quando à existência de armas de destruição maciça no Iraque antes da guerra. O impacto desta declaração foi tão grande, devido ao choque causado pelo descaramento do nosso ex-primeiro ministro, que muita gente não se deteve sobre o que ele disse no fim da entrevista, em relação á eventualidade de se fazer um referendo sobre o novo Tratado Europeu. Disse Durão Barroso que a maioria das pessoas, quando se lhe faz a pergunta sobre se se deve fazer ou não o referendo sobre o tratado, respondem que sim, que se deve fazer. Mas depois abstêm-se de ir votar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Julgo que esta saída mostra bem o que Durão Barroso pensa das pessoas em geral. E que podemos concluir que Durão Barroso acha que a maior parte dos cidadãos estão atacados de indiferença ou de indolência (provavelmente das duas coisas ao mesmo tempo) e que os líderes podem tomar as decisões que entenderem, sem se preocuparem com o que as pessoas pensam. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ele tem lata para daqui a uns tempos voltar a Portugal, e pretender ocupar um cargo importante outra vez. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4075145602567511478?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4075145602567511478/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4075145602567511478' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4075145602567511478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4075145602567511478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/entrevista-de-duro-barroso.html' title='A entrevista de Durão Barroso'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1581303559556874323</id><published>2007-11-24T01:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-24T01:40:46.482Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sociedade'/><title type='text'>Não se fica rico a trabalhar.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0d6-xK3CFI/AAAAAAAAAB8/AodkSJjCopw/s1600-h/Trabalhar+nÃ£o+significa+deixar+de+ser+pobre+em+Portugal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136209118808705106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0d6-xK3CFI/AAAAAAAAAB8/AodkSJjCopw/s400/Trabalhar+n%C3%A3o+significa+deixar+de+ser+pobre+em+Portugal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0d6thK3CEI/AAAAAAAAAB0/6TPAxSn4EGE/s1600-h/Trabalhar+nÃ£o+significa+deixar+de+ser+pobre+em+Portugal.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Insiro aqui,  com a devida vénia, uma notícia saída no &lt;em&gt;Público&lt;/em&gt; de 23 de Novembro de 2007. No blogue &lt;em&gt;Ladrões de Bicicletas&lt;/em&gt;, no mesmo dia, o João Rodrigues referiu como esta situação significa o "fracasso de um modelo de desenvolvimento liberal imposto por elites convertidas à ideia de um mercado sem fim". Os dados referenciados foram obtidos no Quarto Relatório da Coesão, apresentado em Junho último. Levanto a questão de como rendimentos de trabalho tão baixos poderão alguma vez corresponder a uma criação de riqueza significativa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1581303559556874323?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1581303559556874323/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1581303559556874323' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1581303559556874323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1581303559556874323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/no-se-fica-rico-trabalhar.html' title='Não se fica rico a trabalhar.'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0d6-xK3CFI/AAAAAAAAAB8/AodkSJjCopw/s72-c/Trabalhar+n%C3%A3o+significa+deixar+de+ser+pobre+em+Portugal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4869215252768047865</id><published>2007-11-20T02:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-20T02:52:26.419Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gente Gira'/><title type='text'>Uma magnífica descendência</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0JKthK3CDI/AAAAAAAAABs/3GKgao5VXdM/s1600-h/Email-PC180019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134748671014275122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0JKthK3CDI/AAAAAAAAABs/3GKgao5VXdM/s200/Email-PC180019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0JJORK3CCI/AAAAAAAAABk/9G54IgOG5EQ/s1600-h/HPIM1193.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134747034631735330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0JJORK3CCI/AAAAAAAAABk/9G54IgOG5EQ/s200/HPIM1193.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olá. Não está mal, pois não? Mas mandem-me mais fotografias, por&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;favor. Gosto tanto de vos ver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0JJGhK3CBI/AAAAAAAAABc/_il89BnZNyE/s1600-h/DSC00148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134746901487749138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0JJGhK3CBI/AAAAAAAAABc/_il89BnZNyE/s200/DSC00148.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4869215252768047865?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4869215252768047865/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4869215252768047865' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4869215252768047865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4869215252768047865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/ol.html' title='Uma magnífica descendência'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0JKthK3CDI/AAAAAAAAABs/3GKgao5VXdM/s72-c/Email-PC180019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5424260143160301857</id><published>2007-11-18T16:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-18T16:19:20.696Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Férias'/><title type='text'>Marta em Tavira</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0BlxRK3B-I/AAAAAAAAABE/hqYieodIKDI/s1600-h/HPIM1167.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134215472299313122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0BlxRK3B-I/AAAAAAAAABE/hqYieodIKDI/s320/HPIM1167.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marta e o pai. Ah... as férias&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5424260143160301857?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5424260143160301857/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5424260143160301857' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5424260143160301857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5424260143160301857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/marta-em-tavira.html' title='Marta em Tavira'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/R0BlxRK3B-I/AAAAAAAAABE/hqYieodIKDI/s72-c/HPIM1167.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3012198026074421666</id><published>2007-11-18T14:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-18T15:11:00.772Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Gerontion, de Thomas Stearns Eliot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thou hast nor youth nor age&lt;br /&gt;But as it were an after dinner sleep&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming of both.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Here I am, an old man in a dry month, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was neither at the hot gates&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nor fought in the warm rain&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nor knee deep in the salt marsh, heaving a cutlass,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bitten by flies, fought.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My house is a decayed house,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And the Jews squats on the window-sill, the owner,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Spawned in some estaminet of Antwerp,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Blistered in Brussels, patched and peeled in London.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The goat coughs at night in the field overhead;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rocks, moss, stonecrop, iron, merds.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The woman keeps the kitchen, makes tea,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sneezes at evening, poking the peevish gutter.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I an old man, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A dull head among windy spaces.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T. S. Eliot, 1920&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T. S. Eliot (1888-1965), recebeu o prémio Nobel da Literatura em 1948.&lt;br /&gt;Transcrevi os versos acima de uma selecção tirada dos &lt;em&gt;Collected Poems&lt;/em&gt;, editada pela Faber and Faber pela primeira vez em 1940. Esta edição data de 1999.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3012198026074421666?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3012198026074421666/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3012198026074421666' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3012198026074421666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3012198026074421666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/gerontion-de-thomas-stearns-eliot.html' title='Gerontion, de Thomas Stearns Eliot'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-582950413345557955</id><published>2007-11-12T03:18:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-11-12T03:22:56.438Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>Sinbad</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-eighth Night,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that Sindbad the Porter, after kissing ground between their hands stood with his head bowed down in humble attitude. The master of the house bade him draw near and be seated and bespoke him kindly, bidding him welcome. Then he set before him various kinds of viands, rich and delicate and delicious, and the Porter, after saying his Bismillah, fell to and ate his fill, after which he exclaimed, "Praised be Allah whatso be our case!" and, washing his hands, returned thanks to the company for his entertainment. Quoth the host, "Thou art welcome and thy day is a blessed. But what is thy name and calling?" Quoth the other, "O my lord, my name is Sindbad the Hammal, and I carry folk's goods on my head for hire." The house-master smiled and rejoined, "Know, O Porter that thy name is even as mine, for I am Sindbad the Seaman; and now, O Porter, I would have thee let me hear the couplets thou recitedst at the gate anon." The Porter was abashed and replied, "Allah upon thee! Excuse me, for toil and travail and lack of luck when the hand is empty, teach a man ill manners and boorish ways." Said the host, "Be not ashamed; thou art become my brother; but repeat to me the verses, for they pleased me whenas I heard thee recite them at the gate. Hereupon the Porter repeated the couplets and they delighted the merchant, who said to him, "Know, O Hammal, that my story is a wonderful one, and thou shalt hear all that befel me and all I underwent ere I rose to this state of prosperity and became the lord of this place wherein thou seest me; for I came not to this high estate save after travail sore and perils galore, and how much toil and trouble have I not suffered in days of yore! I have made seven voyages, by each of which hangeth a marvellous tale, such as confoundeth the reason, and all this came to pass by doom of fortune and fate; for from what destiny doth write there is neither refuge nor flight. Know, then, good my lords (continued he) that I am about to relate the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-582950413345557955?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/582950413345557955/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=582950413345557955' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/582950413345557955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/582950413345557955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/sinbad_12.html' title='Sinbad'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5858425996101527291</id><published>2007-11-11T02:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-11T02:26:01.397Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pintura'/><title type='text'>Dom Quixote e Sancho Pança</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/RzZn5UP0VZI/AAAAAAAAAA8/bsRLFWdslDg/s1600-h/P106PICA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131403059820516754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/RzZn5UP0VZI/AAAAAAAAAA8/bsRLFWdslDg/s320/P106PICA.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pablo Picasso, 1955&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5858425996101527291?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5858425996101527291/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5858425996101527291' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5858425996101527291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5858425996101527291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/dom-quixote-e-sancho-pana.html' title='Dom Quixote e Sancho Pança'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/RzZn5UP0VZI/AAAAAAAAAA8/bsRLFWdslDg/s72-c/P106PICA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1812527758001925178</id><published>2007-11-08T02:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-08T03:03:07.192Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ecologia e Ambiente'/><title type='text'>A central nuclear de Almaraz</title><content type='html'>Todos os dias vemos coisas preocupantes. Algumas invadem-nos a toda a hora, como o défice orçamental, a crise no Médio Oriente, o regresso de Santana Lopes, etc. Mas há coisas que estão aí todos os dias, e não as vemos. Ou vemos, e esquecemo-nos de elas. É o caso da central nuclear de Alamaraz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O &lt;em&gt;El País&lt;/em&gt; do dia 6 de Novembro, na pág. 38, informa que no domingo passado, faltou a água na piscina da central onde são arrefecidas as barras de combustível nuclear. Frisa o jornal que esse arrefecimento tem de ser permanente, e que a água não circulou na piscina das 13.00 às 19.50 de domingo. Terá havido uma fuga de água. A bomba de reserva não funcionava por estar em manutenção. Almaraz II é propriedade da Iberdrola. O "incidente" (ou acidente?) foi classificado como de nível 1 (numa escala de 0 a 7, de menor a maior gravidade)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almaraz fica na província de Cáceres. Ver no Grande Atlas Mundial, do Reader's Digest, o mapa 190-191, quadrícula e5, na parte superior. A água que utiliza para esfriar o combustível nuclear é a água do Tejo. O Conselho de Seguranaça Nuclear ordenou uma inspecção. Ecologistas em Acção pediram que a central fosse sancionada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E nós, que somos banhados pelo Tejo, em que ficamos?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1812527758001925178?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1812527758001925178/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1812527758001925178' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1812527758001925178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1812527758001925178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/central-nuclear-de-almaraz.html' title='A central nuclear de Almaraz'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8819066989874087378</id><published>2007-11-06T01:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-06T02:44:10.753Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política Internacional'/><title type='text'>O opinion maker Timothy Garton Ash</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Saiu no &lt;em&gt;Guardian&lt;/em&gt; de 1 de Novembro último um texto de Timothy Garton Ash (TGA) intitulado &lt;strong&gt;Facing disaster in Iran, Europe must finally make the hard choices&lt;/strong&gt;. Apareceu traduzido no &lt;em&gt;El País&lt;/em&gt; do dia 4. Neste escrito TGA pressiona fortemente os países europeus para que incitem os EUA e o Irão a terem conversações bilaterais e desencadeiem sanções económicas fortes contra o Irão, afirmando ser imperativo que o façam para evitarem dois perigos. O primeiro, de que Georges Bush bombardeie o Irão antes de abandonar a Casa Branca em 2008. O segundo, de que o Irão daqui a uns anos tenha a bomba nuclear. Aproveita de passagem para dar bicadas nos intelectuais pacifistas e anti-nucleares, perguntando onde estão agora, e porque não se manifestam contra a bomba nas mãos dos iranianos. Admite ser um problema que Israel, a Índia e o Paquistão já tenham a bomba, mas é de opinião que já não se pode fazer nada a esse respeito. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Penso que TGA está sobretudo à procura de mostrar serviço aos chefes do Ocidente, que se agrupam na NATO, e procuram manter a todo o transe a superioridade militar nas mãos dos EUA. Implicitamente admite que o Irão mesmo que esteja a tentar obter a bomba, só a terá dentro de anos. Não vê (será que não vê mesmo?) que o Paquistão, país bastante instável, pode deixar cair as armas nucleares em mãos bastante perigosas. E não admite (embora esteja farto de o saber) que o maior perigo para a paz no Médio Oriente ( e com certeza, no Mundo) é o expansionismo israelita, o qual se por enquanto se limita a ir lentamente massacrando os palestinianos, para depois anexar definitivamente os territórios que estes ainda ocupam, mais tarde vai estender as suas ambições à Jordânia, ao Sinai e provavelmente ao Sul do Líbano.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;TGA sabe também que as conversações entre o Irão e os EUA, a acontecerem, nunca terão resultados palpáveis, a não ser que o Irão aceitasse ser totalmente tutelado pelos americanos. Estes querem dominar totalmente a produção de petróleo no mundo, razão pela qual foram fazer a guerra no Iraque. Mais tarde ou mais cedo atacarão o Irão. Isso faz parte da estratégia que vêm desenvolvendo praticamente desde a Segunda Guerra Mundial, umas vezes mais claramente, outras vezes menos. Os atentados do 11 de Setembro de 2001 deram-lhes o pretexto para o fazerem mais às claras. Os governantes que sucederem a Bush vão seguir essa política ("a guerra é a política por outros meios"). Claro que invocam boas intenções (combate ao terrorismo, difusão dos valores democráticas, etc. ) . Não se apercebem de que vão perder esta guerra, e vão-nos arrastar para o desatre. A derrota pode ser só daqui a cinquenta ou cem anos, mas vai acontecer. Despertaram um ódio generalizado por todo o mundo árabe e não só. No Paquistão apoiam um ditador como Musharraf, que vai esmagar os elementos mais progressistas da sociedade (e não os taliban, ao contrário do que os néscios pensam) para continuar no poder. No passado, no Irão derrubaram Mossadegh, puseram o Xá no trono e prepararam o terreno para os ayatollahs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Entretanto, as sanções económicas que a Europa vai impor ao Irão vão servir para enfraquecer este país e facilitar a aventura americana. Mesmo que a China e a Rússia substituam os europeus ser-lhes-á difícil evitar um considerável enfraquecimento militar do país, necessário para a destruição dos alvos estratégicos seja feita com um desgaste reduzido. A guerra vai começar, vaticino, com um ataque israelita a algum alvo considerado fulcral (alguma coisa que possa passar por central nuclear). O Irão vai replicar e então os EUA avançam. O lóbi do petróleo e as indústrias de armamento rejubilarão. E TGA e outros &lt;strong&gt;opinion makers&lt;/strong&gt; escreverão mais uns artigos comentando a posição da Europa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8819066989874087378?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8819066989874087378/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8819066989874087378' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8819066989874087378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8819066989874087378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/o-opinion-maker-timothy-garton-ash.html' title='O opinion maker Timothy Garton Ash'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-4051731063812373543</id><published>2007-11-04T03:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-04T03:37:30.618Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ecologia e Ambiente'/><title type='text'>Alicante, uma costa destruída</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do El País do dia 2 de Novembro, anteontem, com a devida vénia transcrevo o artigo que segue. Observando o que tem ocorrido em Alicante vemos o que está já a ocorrer em Portugal, e a solução que os espanhóis estão a procurar introduzir.  O Governo compra solo para aumentar o espaço público. E se nacionalize, pura e simplesmente, o solo? Não vamos ter de caminhar para essa meta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REPORTAJE: La destrucción del litoral 3. ALICANTE&lt;br /&gt;Una costa casi privada&lt;br /&gt;El Gobierno comprará suelo para aumentar el espacio público en el litoral de Alicante, cuyo primer kilómetro es el cuarto más edificado del Mediterráneo&lt;br /&gt;SANTIAGO NAVARRO - Alicante - 02/11/2007&lt;br /&gt;La primera línea de costa de Alicante es la cuarta más edificada del Mediterráneo. Según el informe Corine Land Cover, en 2000, el 49,38% del primer kilómetro de costa estaba ya edificado. La invasión de las urbanizaciones privadas, en algunos casos, ha traspasado claramente la raya de los 100 metros de dominio público marítimo-terrestre. Los ejemplos más flagrantes de ese desbocado crecimiento son la urbanización del Bon Nou (siete bungalós a 20 metros del mar) en La Vila Joiosa, dos torres de 22 plantas en la playa de Levante de Benidorm y un hotel de 24 plantas, a seis metros de la orilla del mar, en Calp.&lt;br /&gt;Los únicos rincones a salvo del ladrillo, con la excepción de la playa de Llobella, en Benissa, y dos calas en Torrevieja, son las áreas entorno a los parajes naturales. Es en este punto en el que hará hincapié el plan de choque del Ministerio de Medio Ambiente contra el urbanismo salvaje mediante la adquisición directa de suelo para protegerlo de la piqueta y mediante la redefinición de los deslindes de la zona pública en la costa (en esta provincia queda pendiente el 38%, es decir 106 kilómetros). Todo ello con el propósito de aumentar los espacios públicos en una costa casi privada. "Todo lo que compremos lo haremos con el objetivo de preservarlo de las edificaciones", asegura Vicente Martínez, jefe provincial de Costas. Este departamento ha remitido al Ministerio de Medio Ambiente un total de 117 propuestas para adquirir fincas e inmuebles en el entorno del área de dominio público y parajes naturales, entre las que destacan los 2,8 millones de metros cuadrados del saladar de Agua Amarga, al sur de la costa de la capital alicantina.&lt;br /&gt;En la parte septentrional del litoral alicantino, dominado por los núcleos turísticos de Dénia y Xàbia, la terapia de choque del Gobierno en su batalla por recuperar el carácter público de la costa incluye dos llamativas propuestas: recuperar el espacio de dominio público entre Les Bassetes, los Molinos y el puerto de Dénia, y la adquisición de los terrenos en la franja de 500 metros en el Cabo de San Antonio, en Xàbia. En este segundo municipio se plantea la recuperación de la zona de tránsito y dominio público en la playa del Arenal.&lt;br /&gt;En Dénia, el Gobierno redefinirá la línea de deslinde del río Girona para incorporar al dominio público parte de su desembocadura. Este punto está poblado de urbanizaciones, que quedaron temporalmente anegadas tras la excepcional crecida del río el pasado 12 de octubre.&lt;br /&gt;El siguiente punto donde pone énfasis el plan del Gobierno es el litoral de Calp, otro de los municipios afectados por la reciente riada de Alicante. Aquí, la intención es comprar el Saladar. En este municipio, el Ministerio de Medio Ambiente ha recurrido al Tribunal Superior de Justicia de la Comunidad Valenciana la licencia de obras, otorgada por el anterior gobierno local, del PP, y validada por la Generalitat valenciana, a un promotor para levantar un hotel de 24 plantas a escasos seis metros de la orilla del mar.&lt;br /&gt;"Este es uno de los puntos más agredidos por el urbanismo en la costa alicantina", comenta Carlos Arribas, portavoz en Alicante de Ecologistas en Acción del País Valenciano.&lt;br /&gt;Unos kilómetros más al sur se sitúa el municipio de Altea, donde el Gobierno recuperará la zona de tránsito y se practicarán expropiaciones de edificios fuera de ordenación en Villa Gadea, se protegerá el triángulo del delta del río Algar y se eliminarán las ocupaciones del dominio público y zonas de tránsito desde la cala del Soto hasta la desembocadura del mencionado río. En el cauce del Algar hay programado ya un PAI que prevé levantar unas 6.000 casas, una quinta parte de ellas dentro del primer kilómetro de costa.&lt;br /&gt;Para Benidorm, meca del urbanismo vertical en la costa española, la propuesta es la adquisición de la franja de 500 metros al borde del acantilado de Serra Gelada y ampliar el espacio público de este parque natural con los terrenos urbanos en el rincón de L'Oix, en la playa de Levante. En ese punto, el Gobierno ha iniciado ya el expediente de expropiación del solar, ubicado en la zona de dominio público, donde un promotor estaba levantando dos torres de 22 plantas.&lt;br /&gt;En el tramo de costa comprendido entre los municipios de La Vila Joiosa y El Campello, el documento del Gobierno pone especial atención en la Cala de Finestrat, en el litoral de la primera población, y alerta de la indefinición de los planes de actuación de la zona, donde hay más de 5.000 viviendas particulares y se levantó un hotel, el Atrium, con un exceso de volumetría de 53.000 metros cuadrados (equivalente a 11 alturas) respecto a lo autorizado en el PGOU. El hotel fue legalizado, tras imponer una multa de 12 millones al promotor y obligarle a derribar 14.700 metros del exceso de obra.&lt;br /&gt;En el caso de la fachada litoral de la capital de la provincia, las propuestas más destacadas hacen referencia al tramo sur de la costa, donde el Gobierno propone recuperar la zona de dominio público marítimo-terrestre que ha invadido la urbanización Urbanova.&lt;br /&gt;En Santa Pola, la propuesta más sobresaliente es declarar fuera de ordenación la primera línea de costa construida, y reubicar la carretera que llega desde la playa de El Pinet hasta el puerto para incorporarla el dominio público junto a las salinas y eliminar todas las edificaciones situadas en esa playa (140 casas).&lt;br /&gt;En Guardamar del Segura se plantea recuperar el borde del litoral mediante la denegación de licencias de reparación y recuperación de concesiones en las 120 casas de Babilonia, cuyo mal estado amenaza la seguridad de sus inquilinos.&lt;br /&gt;En Torrevieja, la principal iniciativa es adquirir las únicas parcelas urbanizables todavía sin construir en la desembocadura del río Seco, al sur del barranco Rubio, en la playa de Campoamor y al sur de las playas de Cabo Roig. Para Orihuela, el punto más meridional del litoral alicantino, se propone ordenar los accesos y una senda peatonal en torno a Punta Prima y ampliar la senda entre Cala Flamenca y Cala Cerrada. En la costa de este municipio, el gobierno local del PP, autorizó hace un año la urbanización del último tramo virgen, Cala Mosca, donde está previsto levantar 1.700 nuevas casas.&lt;br /&gt;© &lt;a href="http://www.elpais.com/corporativos/elpais/elpais.html" target="_blank"&gt;Diario EL PAÍS S.L.&lt;/a&gt; - Miguel Yuste 40 - 28037 &lt;a href="http://www.elpais.com/espana/madrid/"&gt;Madrid&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.elpais.com/todo-sobre/pais/Espana/ESP/"&gt;[España]&lt;/a&gt; - Tel. 91 337 8200&lt;br /&gt;© &lt;a href="http://www.prisacom.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Prisacom S.A.&lt;/a&gt; - Ribera del Sena, S/N - Edificio APOT - Madrid [España] - Tel. 91 353 7900&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-4051731063812373543?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/4051731063812373543/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=4051731063812373543' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4051731063812373543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/4051731063812373543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/alicante-uma-costa-destruda.html' title='Alicante, uma costa destruída'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-6550525969046347199</id><published>2007-11-03T02:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-03T21:34:22.553Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>Sinbad</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When it was the Five Hundred and Thirty-seventh Night,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the Hammal set his load upon the bench to take rest and smell the air, there came out upon him from the court-door a pleasant breeze and a delicious fragrance. He sat down on the edge of the bench, and at once heard from within the melodious sound of lutes and other stringed instruments, and mirth-exciting voices singing and reciting, together with the song of birds warbling and glorifying Almighty Allah in various tunes and tongues; turtles, mocking-birds, merles, nightingales, cushats and stone-curlews,&lt;a name="3"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;whereat he marvelled in himself and was moved to mighty joy and solace. Then he went up to the gate and saw within a great flower-garden wherein were pages and black slaves and such a train of servants and attendants and so forth as is found only with Kings and Sultans; and his nostrils were greeted with the savoury odours of all manner meats rich and delicate, and delicious and generous wines. So he raised his eyes heavenwards and said, "Glory to Thee, O Lord, O Creator and Provider, who providest whomso Thou wilt without count or stint! O mine Holy One, I cry Thee pardon for all sins and turn to Thee repenting of all offences! O Lord, there is no gainsaying Thee in Thine ordinance and Thy dominion, neither wilt Thou be questioned of that Thou dost, for Thou indeed over all things art Almighty! Extolled be Thy perfection: whom Thou wilt Thou makest poor and whom Thou wilt Thou makest rich! Whom Thou wilt Thou exaltest and whom Thou wilt Thou abasest and there is no god but Thou! How mighty is Thy majesty and how enduring Thy dominion and how excellent Thy government! Verily, Thou favourest whom Thou wilt of Thy servants, whereby the owner of this place abideth in all joyance of life and delighteth himself with pleasant scents and delicious meats and exquisite wines of all kinds. For indeed Thou appointest unto Thy creatures that which Thou wilt and that which Thou hast foreordained unto them; wherefore are some weary and others are at rest and some enjoy fair fortune and affluence, whilst others suffer the extreme of travail and misery, even as I do." And he fell to reciting,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"How many by my labours, that evermore endure, * All goods of life enjoy and in cooly shade recline?Each morn that dawns I wake in travail and in woe, * And strange is my condition and my burden gars me pine:Many others are in luck and from miseries are free, * And Fortune never loads them with loads the like o' mine:They live their happy days in all solace and delight; * Eat, drink and dwell in honour 'mid the noble and the digne:All living things were made of a little drop of sperm, * Thine origin is mine and my provenance is thine;Yet the difference and distance 'twixt the twain of us are far * As the difference of savour 'twixt vinegar and wine:But at Thee, O God All-wise! I venture not to rail * Whose ordinance is just and whose justice cannot fail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"When Sindbad the Porter had made an end of reciting his verses, he bore up his burden and was about to fare on, when there came forth to him from the gate a little foot-page, fair of face and shapely of shape and dainty of dress who caught him by the hand saying, "Come in and speak with my lord, for he calleth for thee." The Porter would have excused himself to the page but the lad would take no refusal; so he left his load with the doorkeeper in the vestible and followed the boy into the house, which he found to be a goodly mansion, radiant and full of majesty, till he brought him to a grand sitting-room wherein he saw a company of nobles and great lords, seated at tables garnished with all manner of flowers and sweet-scented herbs, besides great plenty of dainty viands and fruits dried and fresh and confections and wines of the choicest vintages. There also were instruments of music and mirth and lovely slave-girls playing and singing. All the company was ranged according to rank; and in the highest place sat a man of worshipful and noble aspect whose beard-sides hoariness had stricken; and he was stately of stature and fair of favour, agreeable of aspect and full of gravity and dignity and majesty. So Sindbad the Porter was confounded at that which he beheld and said in himself, "By Allah, this must be either a piece of Paradise or some King's palace!" Then he saluted the company with much respect praying for their prosperity, and kissing the ground before them, stood with his head bowed down in humble attitude.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-6550525969046347199?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/6550525969046347199/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=6550525969046347199' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6550525969046347199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/6550525969046347199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/sinbad_03.html' title='Sinbad'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8399424078490910133</id><published>2007-11-02T02:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-02T02:35:07.542Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Serviços Públicos'/><title type='text'>Mais Serviços Públicos a privatizar?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Transcrevo, com a devida vénia, do jornal &lt;em&gt;The Nation&lt;/em&gt; de ontem, 1 de Novembro de 2007, um artigo da &lt;em&gt;Naomi Klein&lt;/em&gt;, que realmente parece ser uma senhora que não hesita em dizer as verdades:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;lookout &lt;em&gt;by Naomi Klein&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rapture Rescue 911: Disaster Response for the Chosen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[from the November 19, 2007 issue]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I used to worry that the United States was in the grip of extremists who sincerely believed that the Apocalypse was coming and that they and their friends would be airlifted to heavenly safety. I have since reconsidered. The country is indeed in the grip of extremists who are determined to act out the biblical climax--the saving of the chosen and the burning of the masses--but without any divine intervention. Heaven can wait. Thanks to the booming business of privatized disaster services, we're getting the Rapture right here on earth.&lt;br /&gt;Just look at what is happening in Southern California. Even as wildfires devoured whole swaths of the region, some homes in the heart of the inferno were left intact, as if saved by a higher power. But it wasn't the hand of God; in several cases it was the handiwork of Firebreak Spray Systems. Firebreak is a special service offered to customers of insurance giant American International Group (AIG)--but only if they happen to live in the wealthiest ZIP codes in the country. Members of the company's Private Client Group pay an average of $19,000 to have their homes sprayed with fire retardant. During the wildfires, the "mobile units"--racing around in red firetrucks--even extinguished fires for their clients.&lt;br /&gt;One customer described a scene of modern-day Revelation. "Just picture it. Here you are in that raging wildfire. Smoke everywhere. Flames everywhere. Plumes of smoke coming up over the hills," he told the Los Angeles Times. "Here's a couple guys showing up in what looks like a firetruck who are experts trained in fighting wildfire and they're there specifically to protect your home."&lt;br /&gt;And your home alone. "There were a few instances," one of the private firefighters told Bloomberg News, "where we were spraying and the neighbor's house went up like a candle." With public fire departments cut to the bone, gone are the days of Rapid Response, when everyone was entitled to equal protection. Now, increasingly intense natural disasters will be met with the new model: Rapture Response.&lt;br /&gt;During last year's hurricane season, Florida homeowners were offered similarly high-priced salvation by HelpJet, a travel agency launched with promises to turn "a hurricane evacuation into a jet-setter vacation." For an annual fee, a company concierge takes care of everything: transport to the air terminal, luxurious travel, bookings at five-star resorts. Most of all, HelpJet is an escape hatch from the kind of government failure on display during Katrina. "No standing in lines, no hassle with crowds, just a first class experience."&lt;br /&gt;HelpJet is about to get some serious competition from some much larger players. In northern Michigan, during the same week that the California fires raged, the rural community of Pellston was in the grip of an intense public debate. The village is about to become the headquarters for the first fully privatized national disaster response center. The plan is the brainchild of Sovereign Deed, a little-known start-up with links to the mercenary firm Triple Canopy. Like HelpJet, Sovereign Deed works on a "country-club type membership fee," according to the company's vice president, retired Brig. Gen. Richard Mills. In exchange for a one-time fee of $50,000 followed by annual dues of $15,000, members receive "comprehensive catastrophe response services" should their city be hit by a manmade disaster that can "cause severe threats to public health and/or well-being" (read: a terrorist attack), a disease outbreak or a natural disaster. Basic membership includes access to medicine, water and food, while those who pay for "premium tiered services" will be eligible for VIP rescue missions.&lt;br /&gt;Like so many private disaster companies, Sovereign Deed is selling escape from climate change and the failed state--by touting the security clearance and connections its executives amassed while working for that same state. So Mills, speaking recently in Pellston, explained, "The reality of FEMA is that it has no infrastructure, and a lot of our National Guard is elsewhere." Sovereign Deed, on the other hand, claims to have "direct access and special arrangements with several national and international information centers. These proprietary arrangements allow our Emergency Operations Center to...give our Members that critical head start in times of crisis." In this secular version of the Rapture, God's hand is unnecessary. Not when you have retired ex-CIA agents and ex-Special Forces lifting the chosen to safety--no need to pray, just pay. And who needs a celestial New Jerusalem when you can have Pellston, with its flexible local politicians and its surprisingly modern regional airport?&lt;br /&gt;Sovereign Deed could soon find itself competing with Blackwater USA, whose CEO, Erik Prince, wrote recently of his plans to offer "full spectrum" services, including humanitarian aid in disasters. When fires broke out in San Diego County, near the proposed site of the controversial Blackwater West base, the company immediately seized the opportunity to make its case. Blackwater could have been the "tactical operation center for East County fires," said company vice president Brian Bonfiglio. "Can you imagine how much of a benefit it would be if we were operational now?" To show off its capacity, Blackwater has been distributing badly needed food and blankets to people of Potrero, California. "This is something we've always done," Bonfiglio said. "This is what we do." Actually, what Blackwater does, as Iraqis have painfully learned, is not protect entire communities or countries but "protect the principal"--the principal being whoever has paid Blackwater for its guns and gear.&lt;br /&gt;The same pay-to-be-saved logic governs this entire new sector of country club disaster management. There is, of course, another principle that could guide our collective responses in a disaster-prone world: the simple conviction that every life is of equal value.&lt;br /&gt;For anyone out there who still believes in that wild idea, the time has urgently arrived to protect the principle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8399424078490910133?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8399424078490910133/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8399424078490910133' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8399424078490910133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8399424078490910133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/mais-servios-pblicos-privatizar.html' title='Mais Serviços Públicos a privatizar?'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-2466808750506536162</id><published>2007-11-02T02:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-02T02:24:28.993Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='As Mil e Uma Noites'/><title type='text'>Sinbad</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sindbad The Seaman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a name="1"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and Sindbad The Landsman.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;There lived in the city of Baghdad, during the reign of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, a man named Sindbád the Hammál,&lt;a name="2"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;one in poor case who bore burdens on his head for hire. It happened to him one day of great heat that whilst he was carrying a heavy load, he became exceeding weary and sweated profusely, the heat and the weight alike oppressing him. Presently, as he was passing the gate of a merchant's house, before which the ground was swept and watered, and there the air was temperate, he sighted a broad bench beside the door; so he set his load thereon, to take rest and smell the air,--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-2466808750506536162?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/2466808750506536162/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=2466808750506536162' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2466808750506536162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2466808750506536162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/11/sinbad.html' title='Sinbad'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5153344194714593026</id><published>2007-10-26T01:53:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T02:05:26.763+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Saúde'/><title type='text'>Hábitos saudáveis</title><content type='html'>Também no El País de 24 de Outubro, pág. 42, vem um artigo que faz a comparação entre os hábitos de vida saudável em vários países europeus. Põe Portugal bem à frente da Espanha. Na Europa dos 15 fica apenas atrás da Suécia. Quem diria?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5153344194714593026?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5153344194714593026/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5153344194714593026' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5153344194714593026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5153344194714593026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post_26.html' title='Hábitos saudáveis'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1546719570890068987</id><published>2007-10-26T01:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T01:57:55.799+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ecologia e Ambiente'/><title type='text'>Aprovado um plano para salvar Daimiel e o Guadiana</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Do El País de 24 de Outubro, traduzo um artigo de M. R. S., Madrid, com a devida vénia (pág. 42). Parece-me um assunto extremamente importante. Veja-se o que ficou dito há dias sobre o Alqueva. Apesar da distância a que Daimiel fica da fronteira portuguesa há que ter muita atenção com esta situação. Assim, traduzo:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A seca e a sobreexploração de que sofre a zona do Guadiana pode terminar. O Governo e a Junta de Castela-Mancha aprovaram ontem um plano de 3.000 milhões de euros para recuperar o aquífero, muito afectado pelos anos de cultivo intensivo de milho e outras explorações. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O Plano Especial do Alto Guadiana tratará de recuperar, entre outros alvos, o Parque Nacional das Mesas de Daimiel, que se mantem artificialmente com água do Tejo e com a extraída por bombas do subsolo. Para isso pretende-se reordenar os usos dados à água do Guadiana.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A ministra do Meio Ambiente, Cristina Narbona, anunciou ontem que se vão comprar direitos de água para melhorar a situação do aquífero pelo valor de 40 milhões de euros. Uma acção que permitiria "a manutenção das actividades agrárias sustentáveis". A ministra assegurou que, no fim da legislatura, serão compradas mais de 900.000 hectares que contribuirão para a recuperação das Mesas de Daimiel. Para além do parque, beneficiarão com este plano 169 municípios (569.535 habitantes), segundo a Junta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1546719570890068987?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1546719570890068987/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1546719570890068987' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1546719570890068987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1546719570890068987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/aprovado-um-plano-para-salvar-daimiel-e.html' title='Aprovado um plano para salvar Daimiel e o Guadiana'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3808914372579038883</id><published>2007-10-24T01:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T02:07:07.672+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tratado Europeu'/><title type='text'>Referendo ao Tratado Europeu</title><content type='html'>Com a devida vénia, transcrevo do Jornal de Notícias o que escreve (mais uma vez, muito bem, com brilhante ironia) Manuel António Pina, sobre o referendo ao Tratado Europeu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Queres referendo?Ora toma&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por outras, palavras, Manuel, António, Pina&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Adepto do sensato cepticismo atribuído ao ex-capitão do F. C. do Porto, João Pinto, aquele do "prognósticos só no fim", eu não teria no entanto dúvidas a preencher o boletim do totobola do referendo ao Tratado Europeu punha 1 de caras, ou seja, estou certo (tanto quanto se pode estar certo de qualquer coisa) de que não haverá referendo e de que será a AR a assiná-lo de cruz. Dir-me-ão que Sócrates, na campanha de 2005, nos garantiu que haveria, que repetiu o mesmo já este ano (como que por acaso no dia 25 de Abril), que CDS, PCP, BE e o presidente da República o disseram também, que o PSD ainda há um mês o dizia. Só que, depois destes anos todos, já sabemos quando os políticos mentem: é quando estão a mexer os lábios. Não gastaria, por isso, cera com tal defunto não fosse o argumento de Vital Moreira, porta-voz oficioso do Governo, contra o referendo: o Tratado é complicado de mais para a mente simples do "cidadão comum", se o "cidadão comum" tentar lê-lo não passa da segunda página. Acha Vital Moreira que os "cidadãos incomuns" que se sentam na AR lerão o Tratado de fio e pavio e só o votarão depois de o compreenderem. Ora só quem não conhece o espírito crítico e a independência e craveira intelectuais que vão pela AR é que não lhe dará razão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;É claro. Quem viu Vital Moreira ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3808914372579038883?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3808914372579038883/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3808914372579038883' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3808914372579038883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3808914372579038883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/referendo-ao-tratado-europeu.html' title='Referendo ao Tratado Europeu'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-2776240219064422126</id><published>2007-10-23T03:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T03:05:26.352+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ecologia e Ambiente'/><title type='text'>A barragem do Alqueva</title><content type='html'>Este comunicado de Imprensa da Liga para a Protecção da Natureza (LPN) parece-me extremamente importante. Que vamos fazer com este assunto? Se a LPN tem razão, mesmo que só em parte, estamos perante um grave problema. Vamos ler:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COMUNICADO DE IMPRENSA&lt;br /&gt;PRÉMIO À BARRAGEM DO ALQUEVA É LAMENTÁVEL&lt;br /&gt;A Liga para a Protecção da Natureza lamenta a atribuição de um prémio à barragem&lt;br /&gt;do Alqueva*, o empreendimento com mais impactes negativos na região do Alentejo.&lt;br /&gt;Como é possível premiar este empreendimento?????&lt;br /&gt; Quando teve enormes derrapagens nos custos orçamentados, em&lt;br /&gt;consequência de se localizar sobre uma importante falha tectónica!&lt;br /&gt; Quando apresenta uma flagrante ineficiência económica e energética, função&lt;br /&gt;do dispêndio de energia necessário ao regadio previsto para a região, numa&lt;br /&gt;altura em que a promoção da eficiência energética é um imperativo!&lt;br /&gt; Assumindo que se trata de uma obra "integrada harmonicamente na paisagem"&lt;br /&gt;quando implicou a perda irreversível de inúmero património arqueológico,&lt;br /&gt;característico da paisagem alentejana, resultando exactamente no contrário do&lt;br /&gt;que foi afirmado quanto à “contribuição do projecto para a recuperação do&lt;br /&gt;acervo arqueológico da região”!&lt;br /&gt; Quando a comunidade científica espanhola considera o Guadiana um ‘cadáver&lt;br /&gt;hidrológico’ devido ao consumo excessivo de água que sofre!&lt;br /&gt; Quando corre o risco de se tornar um desastre ambiental e humano à escala&lt;br /&gt;do ocorrido no Mar de Aral - Ásia Central (pelo fomento não sustentado da&lt;br /&gt;cultura do algodão e arroz em pleno deserto no tempo de Estaline), em&lt;br /&gt;consequência da utilização de água de má qualidade, resultante do seu uso a&lt;br /&gt;montante!&lt;br /&gt; Quando as alterações climáticas previstas antecipam quebras futuras de cerca&lt;br /&gt;de 50% no escoamento superficial hidrológico, o que se reflectirá na diminuição&lt;br /&gt;proporcional da qualidade das águas superficiais, tornando empreendimentos&lt;br /&gt;como o Alqueva insustentáveis!&lt;br /&gt;Em suma, é lamentável!&lt;br /&gt;* Prémio Internacional Puente de Alcântara, atribuído pela Fundación San Benito de Alcântara,&lt;br /&gt;de Cáceres, Espanha.&lt;br /&gt;Lisboa, 15 de Outubro de 2007&lt;br /&gt;A Direcção Nacional&lt;br /&gt;da&lt;br /&gt;Liga para a Protecção da Natureza&lt;br /&gt;Para mais informações:&lt;br /&gt;LPN - Liga para a Protecção da Natureza&lt;br /&gt;Estrada do Calhariz de Benfica, n.º 187, 1500-124 Lisboa&lt;br /&gt;Tel: 217 780 097  217 740 155  217 740 176&lt;br /&gt;Tlm: 964 656 033  918 947 553&lt;br /&gt;Fax: 217 783 208&lt;br /&gt;www.lpn.pt&lt;br /&gt;e-mail: lpn.natureza@lpn.pt&lt;br /&gt;A Liga para a Protecção da Natureza (LPN), fundada em 1948, é uma Organização Não&lt;br /&gt;Governamental de Ambiente (ONGA) de âmbito nacional. É uma Associação sem fins&lt;br /&gt;lucrativos com estatuto de Utilidade Pública. A LPN é membro da IUCN (The World&lt;br /&gt;Conservation Union), do EEB (European Environmental Bureau), do CIDN (Conselho Ibérico&lt;br /&gt;para a Defesa da Natureza), do MIO-ECSDE (Mediterranean Information Office for&lt;br /&gt;Environmental Culture and Sustainable Development) e do SAR (Seas at Risk).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conservei deliberadamente todo o conteúdo da mensagem, incluindo os contactos da LPN, para quem quiser saber mais ter a vida facilitada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-2776240219064422126?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/2776240219064422126/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=2776240219064422126' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2776240219064422126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2776240219064422126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/barragem-do-alqueva.html' title='A barragem do Alqueva'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1063033533836938506</id><published>2007-10-21T03:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T03:28:32.473+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filosofia'/><title type='text'>Naomi Klein</title><content type='html'>Não percebi ainda quem é Naomi Klein. Será uma filósofa? Julgo que, pelo menos, é muito mais do que uma comentadora. Tem um sítio &lt;a href="http://www.naomiklein.org/"&gt;www.naomiklein.org&lt;/a&gt;. E já publicou vários livros. O mais famoso talvez seja &lt;em&gt;No Logo&lt;/em&gt;, que já tem uns anos. Agora saiu outro, &lt;em&gt;The Shock Doctrine&lt;/em&gt;. Li no blogue Common Dreams um artigo da senhora que me parece altamente importante: &lt;em&gt;Outsourcing Government&lt;/em&gt;, que me parece uma análise importante sobre os efeitos das actuais políticas públicas. Ela centra a análise, como é lógico, nos EUA, mas parece-me que o que ela diz é facilmente generalizável. A Naomi Klein é canadiana, ao que julgo saber.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1063033533836938506?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1063033533836938506/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1063033533836938506' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1063033533836938506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1063033533836938506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/naomi-klein.html' title='Naomi Klein'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-2519491946995340128</id><published>2007-10-20T03:09:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T03:10:10.536+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sociedade'/><title type='text'>Arábia Saudita</title><content type='html'>Vocês sabiam que na Arábia Daudita as mulheres não podem guiar?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-2519491946995340128?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/2519491946995340128/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=2519491946995340128' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2519491946995340128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/2519491946995340128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/arbia-saudita.html' title='Arábia Saudita'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5429264967604986577</id><published>2007-10-19T01:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T01:32:34.167+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><title type='text'>Antero de Quental - A Um Poeta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Surge et ambula!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Tu, que dormes, espírito sereno,&lt;br /&gt;Posto à sombra dos cedros seculares,&lt;br /&gt;Como um levita à sombra dos altares,&lt;br /&gt;Longe da luta e do fragor terreno,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acorda! é tempo! O sol, já alto e pleno,&lt;br /&gt;Afugentou as larvas tumulares...&lt;br /&gt;Para surgir do seio desses mares.&lt;br /&gt;Um mundo novo espera só um aceno...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escuta! é a grande voz das multidões!&lt;br /&gt;São teus irmãos, que se erguem! são canções...&lt;br /&gt;Mas de guerra... e são vozes de rebate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ergue-te pois, soldado do futuro,&lt;br /&gt;E dos raios de luz do sonho puro,&lt;br /&gt;Sonhador, faze espada de combate!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5429264967604986577?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5429264967604986577/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5429264967604986577' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5429264967604986577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5429264967604986577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/antero-de-quental-um-poeta.html' title='Antero de Quental - A Um Poeta'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5159225824022263627</id><published>2007-10-18T22:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T23:08:18.376+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pessoal'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/RxfROBAxcPI/AAAAAAAAAAs/OCUBk6NHK8M/s1600-h/D1000001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122793139877277938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/RxfROBAxcPI/AAAAAAAAAAs/OCUBk6NHK8M/s200/D1000001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;João no dia 18 de Outubro de 2007.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5159225824022263627?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5159225824022263627/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5159225824022263627' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5159225824022263627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5159225824022263627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/joo-no-dia-18-de-outubro-de-2007.html' title=''/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/RxfROBAxcPI/AAAAAAAAAAs/OCUBk6NHK8M/s72-c/D1000001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1919538445042254188</id><published>2007-10-18T00:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T01:08:34.204+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><title type='text'>Eça</title><content type='html'>Leio outro livro interessantíssimo. Chama-se precisamente &lt;em&gt;Eça&lt;/em&gt;. É da autoria de António Ramos de Almeida. Foi escrito para o centenário do nascimento de Eça de Queirós. O editor foi a Livraria Latina, do Porto. O exemplar que estou a ler pertence à Biblioteca Municipal de Vila Franca de Xira, cota: CMD 821.134.3.09.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1919538445042254188?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1919538445042254188/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1919538445042254188' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1919538445042254188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1919538445042254188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/ea.html' title='Eça'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-5414259109913974294</id><published>2007-10-14T21:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T22:25:31.674+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teatro'/><title type='text'>Sean O'Casey - The Plough and the Stars</title><content type='html'>Fui hoje ver esta peça ao Teatro Municipal de Almada. A produção é da Companhia de Teatro de Almada (CTA) e do Teatro dos Aloés. Encenação de Bernard Sorel, com a colaboração de Francis Seleck e assistência de Sophie Vignaux. Fomos 35, a Leninha e eu, numa iniciativa (mais uma) da Cooperativa Alves Redol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean O'Casey (1880-1964) foi uma das figuras mais importantes da literatura irlandesa. Apoiante desde cedo dos movimentos nacionalistas e das tradições irlandesas, afastou-se do nacionalismo e aderiu ao socialismo cerca dos trinta anos. Exerceu durante muito tempo profissões pouco qualificadas. Escreveu em jornais, publicou versos e textos sobre a revolução irlandesa. As suas primeiras tentativas no teatro fracassaram, mas em 1923 o Abbey Theatre aceitou produzir &lt;em&gt;The Shadow of a Gunman&lt;/em&gt;.  A seguir vieram &lt;em&gt;Juno and the Paycock&lt;/em&gt; (1924) e &lt;em&gt;The Plough and the Stars&lt;/em&gt; (1926). Houve distúrbios no teatro quando esta última peça foi apresentada, O'Casey sofreu ataques de nacionalistas  e do meio literário de Dublin, e, muito encolerizado, acabou por se exilar em Londres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta peça, que fui ver hoje, &lt;em&gt;The Plough and the Stars&lt;/em&gt; (&lt;em&gt;A Charrua e as Estrelas&lt;/em&gt;) é iminentemente pacifista. Descreve o ambiente em Dublin durante a revolta da Páscoa de 1916, numa perspectiva anti-belicista. Tempera a apresentação do sofrimento humano com imagens satíricas, usando de uma enorme compaixão pelas fraquezas dos vários actores sociais. É muito boa, e o trabalho da CTA de grande craveira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobre Sean O'Casey ver a enciclopédia Collier's e os textos da CTA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-5414259109913974294?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/5414259109913974294/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=5414259109913974294' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5414259109913974294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/5414259109913974294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/sean-ocasey-plough-and-stars.html' title='Sean O&apos;Casey - The Plough and the Stars'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-9041341809992297713</id><published>2007-10-14T01:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T01:24:39.632+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title type='text'>Olavo Bilac - A Um Poeta</title><content type='html'>Longe do estéril turbilhão da rua&lt;br /&gt;Beneditino, escreve! No aconchego&lt;br /&gt;Do claustro, na paciência e no sossego,&lt;br /&gt;Trabalha, e teima, e lima, e sofre, e sua!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas que na forma se disfarce o emprego&lt;br /&gt;Do esforço; e a trama viva se construa&lt;br /&gt;De tal modo, que a imagem fique nua,&lt;br /&gt;Rica mas sóbria, como um templo grego&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não se mostre na fábrica o suplício&lt;br /&gt;Do mestre. E, natural, o efeito agrade,&lt;br /&gt;Sem lembrar os andaimes do edifício:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque a Beleza, gémea da Verdade,&lt;br /&gt;Arte Pura, inimiga do artifício,&lt;br /&gt;É a força e a graça na sua simplicidade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-9041341809992297713?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/9041341809992297713/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=9041341809992297713' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/9041341809992297713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/9041341809992297713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/olavo-bilac-um-poeta.html' title='Olavo Bilac - A Um Poeta'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-8767782659598317490</id><published>2007-10-11T01:28:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T01:42:36.027+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ecologia'/><title type='text'>OGM - Proposta do BE no Parlamento</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Julgo importante prestar atenção a este assunto:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bloco propõe na Assembeia da República moratória sobre OGM&lt;br /&gt;data: 10/10&lt;br /&gt;O grupo parlamentar do Bloco de Esquerda apresentou na Assembleia da República uma proposta que recomenda ao Governo uma moratória sobre o cultivo de sementes que contenham ou sejam constituídas por Organismos Geneticamente Modificados (OGM).&lt;br /&gt;Segundo o documento, em Maio deste ano, o governo alemão baniu a venda para sementeira do Milho “Mon 810” que tinha até então autorização de cultivo na Alemanha. Ao exigir que a comercialização apenas fosse admitida se a empresa comercializadora – Monsanto – apresentasse um plano de monitorização que avaliasse o impacto no ambiente, o governo Alemão congelou de facto novas culturas OGM.&lt;br /&gt;Mais recentemente, no dia 21 de Setembro deste ano, o ministro do ambiente francês declarou ao jornal “Le Monde” que não sendo possível controlar a disseminação de OGM não é admissível correr riscos e daí a sua decisão de congelar a venda de sementes OGM até à alteração da lei. A França pode vir a juntar-se à Alemanha, Polónia, Áustria e Grécia e Hungria, no conjunto dos países que baniram o cultivo de sementes transgénicas.&lt;br /&gt;Em Portugal pelo contrário, o governo tem vindo a aprovar desde 2005, legislação que se encontra em contra-ciclo com as preocupações de outros parceiros europeus acima mencionadas. Mais grave do que isso, o governo português tem vindo a permitir um regime que não cumpre adequadamente com o princípio de precaução, não previne o risco de contaminação das culturas convencionais e orgânicas e não garante nem a defesa da biodiversidade nem o direito de escolha dos consumidores.&lt;br /&gt;Em Portugal vigorou, até à transposição da Directiva n. 2001/18/CE, a Lei n.º 12/2002, de 16 de Fevereiro que consagrava a suspensão da «libertação deliberada no ambiente de produtos geneticamente modificados». O Decreto-Lei n.º 72/2003, com as alterações introduzidas pelo Decreto-lei n.º 164/2004, transpôs para a ordem jurídica interna a Directiva n. 2001/18/CE. Faltava à altura regulamentar em matéria de “cláusulas de salvaguarda”, rastreio e monitorização e rotulagem.&lt;br /&gt;O Decreto-Lei n.º 160/2005, de 21 de Setembro, que regulamenta o cultivo de sementes geneticamente modificadas, aprova o cultivo de todas as variedades inscritas no Catálogo Comum de Espécies Agrícolas. A regulamentação nele definida tem vindo a ser criticada em resultado das inadequações que apresenta: É imprevidente por permitir distâncias mínimas de isolamento de culturas OGM que não evitam a contaminação acidental das culturas convencionais ou orgânicas de campos vizinhos.&lt;br /&gt;É falaciosa por contemplar medidas de controlo e acompanhamento só aparentemente se traduzem em controlo e acompanhamento. As medidas previstas não produzem outra avaliação que não seja a avaliação burocrática do cumprimento das regras formais, quando o que faz falta é a possibilidade de monitorizar o impacto das culturas com OGM para o ambiente. Na realidade não existem ainda, como o reconhece o Relatório A6-0032/2007 do Parlamento Europeu, quaisquer mecanismos instalados para detecção e protecção contra contaminações não previstas ou autorizadas.&lt;br /&gt;É ineficaz porque não é suficientemente exaustivo na sequenciação das actividades de controlo e fiscalização ao longo de todo o processo de armazenamento, moagem e transformação de produtos derivados de culturas OGM, o que não só não previne a contaminação de outros cereais como distorce a veracidade da informação prestada aos consumidores finais.&lt;br /&gt;Há por outro lado outras considerações à escala europeia que não podem deixar de ser tomadas em linha de conta:&lt;br /&gt;1 - O estudo produzido pelo Eurobarómetro em 2005 demonstra que 70% dos consumidores na União Europeia têm opinião céptica em relação aos bens alimentares que contenham OGM. Este cepticismo está desde logo legitimado pelo facto de que não existe hoje uma certeza científica sobre as consequências para a saúde pública da entrada na cadeia alimentar de produtos contendo OGM.&lt;br /&gt;Todo o processo de aprovação por parte da Comissão Europeia de sementes OGM é condicionado pelo parecer da Autoridade Europeia para a Segurança Alimentar (EFSA) que se tem confrontado com acusações de falta de transparência por parte de laboratórios e investigadores independentes.&lt;br /&gt;Apesar de a Directiva CEE/2001/18 exigir transparência na determinação dos impactos de OGM para a saúde pública, a EFSA tem feito reserva de confidencialidade em relação a resultados laboratoriais apresentados pela entidade candidata à aprovação, o que impede a validação e comparação por parte da comunidade científica. Deste modo de actuação resulta a impossibilidade de melhorar o conhecimento sobre o resultado do consumo de OGM em alimentos e rações.&lt;br /&gt;Deve notar-se que a aprovação do uso de agroquímicos como os pesticidas obriga à experimentação com pelo menos três espécies de mamíferos diferentes, ao passo que a aprovação de espécies OGM obriga à experimentação exclusivamente com uma espécie.&lt;br /&gt;Isto cria um vazio científico que justifica plenamente que os governos tenham uma atitude de fazer prevalecer o princípio da precaução. Explica também a necessidade de alterar os protocolos de procedimento da EFSA de modo a conferir aos seus relatórios um maior nível de garantia científica.&lt;br /&gt;2 - O Plano Estratégico Nacional para o Desenvolvimento Rural reconhece o crescimento da área agrícola dedicada ao modo de produção integrada e à agricultura biológica e apresenta como objectivo: «reforçar a coerência na política da qualidade alimentar, nomeadamente ao nível dos regimes de qualidade reconhecida. Propõe-se a criação de um sistema de qualidade nacional (regulação e apoio) assente em três pilares: Denominações de Origem; Agricultura Biológica; e Regime/modo de produção intermédio, nomeadamente a partir da produção integrada. Pretende-se assim criar condições para, de forma adequada à realidade de cada sector, promover um instrumento de desenvolvimento adicional, ao mesmo tempo que se clarificam as regras para produtores e consumidores, e ainda para a intervenção pública.»&lt;br /&gt;Toda esta orientação estratégica fica posta em causa quando sabemos que entre 2005 e 2007 a área cultivada com milho geneticamente modificado mais do que quintuplicou: era de 783 há em 2005 e passou a ser de 4.129ha em 2007. Este crescimento representa uma ameaça para a estratégia acima definida uma vez que todo o investimento que os produtores de espécies e castas certificadas ou a aguardar certificação pode ser posto em risco de contaminação, particularmente quando a identificação dos agricultores aderentes à produção de variedades OGM e a localização das respectivas explorações agrícolas não é tornada do conhecimento público como exige o Decreto-Lei n.º 160/2005.&lt;br /&gt;Não existe hoje ainda a possibilidade técnica de controlar a polinização cruzada no meio-ambiente. As correntes de ar, os insectos e as aves transportam os pólenes para distâncias que se estendem muito para além das distâncias de isolamento entre culturas que mesmo uma legislação mais previdente possa prever. É a impossibilidade científica e técnica de monitorizar este processo de polinização cruzada e portanto de contaminação de culturas convencionais e de culturas biológicas que resulta na proibição alemã de cultivo de OGM. É também essa a preocupação que norteia o ministro do ambiente francês. O ministro Jean-Louis Borloo declarou ao jornal Le Monde que: «Acerca dos OGM estamos todos de acordo: Não se pode controlar a disseminação, logo não se pode correr o risco.»&lt;br /&gt;Na altura em que Portugal preside à União Europeia deve dar um sinal claro de ir ao encontro dos apelos que têm vindo a ser dirigidos aos Estados-membros no sentido de garantirem o direito de quem produz culturas convencionais ou biológicas não as ver contaminadas por OGM e o direito dos consumidores a garantidamente poderem optar por produtos alimentares não contaminados por OGM.&lt;br /&gt;Nos termos regimentais e constitucionais, a Assembleia da República, reunida em plenário, resolve recomendar ao Governo que:&lt;br /&gt;Aprove uma moratória sobre o cultivo de sementes que contenham ou sejam constituídas por organismos geneticamente modificados pelo período de três anos, findos os quais deverá ser feita uma reavaliação das garantias se segurança dos produtos alimentares deles resultantes para a saúde humana e sobre a possibilidade técnica de monitorizar e conter a polinização de culturas convencionais e biológicas por pólenes provenientes de culturas com produtos geneticamente modificados.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.blocoalgarve.org/registo.php"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Já cinco países da UE suspenderam o cultivo das sementes transgénicas. Para quando informações claras sobre este assunto? O caso dos verdes eufémios trouxe uma publicidade negativa aos contestatários dos OGM (haveria realmente alguem por detrás deles? Quem?). O que é verdade é que é necessário saber mais sobre este assunto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-8767782659598317490?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/8767782659598317490/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=8767782659598317490' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8767782659598317490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/8767782659598317490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/ogm-proposta-do-be-no-parlamento.html' title='OGM - Proposta do BE no Parlamento'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-1945137671117893906</id><published>2007-10-11T01:22:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T01:24:40.925+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-1945137671117893906?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/1945137671117893906/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=1945137671117893906' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1945137671117893906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/1945137671117893906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8551376735922748836.post-3176684423885084341</id><published>2007-10-10T00:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T00:59:06.583+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pessoal'/><title type='text'>O tempo passa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/RwwVW_UHdPI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gpZiP6q2Dig/s1600-h/DSC00099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119490361110525170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/RwwVW_UHdPI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gpZiP6q2Dig/s320/DSC00099.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8551376735922748836-3176684423885084341?l=obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/feeds/3176684423885084341/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8551376735922748836&amp;postID=3176684423885084341' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3176684423885084341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8551376735922748836/posts/default/3176684423885084341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://obarcodesinbad.blogspot.com/2007/10/o-tempo-passa.html' title='O tempo passa'/><author><name>João Machado</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07073984972766907330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/SKiv1dQOJaI/AAAAAAAAADw/7hVUv7jXl1Q/S220/D1000001.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mqo29KNxf5w/RwwVW_UHdPI/AAAAAAAAAAk/gpZiP6q2Dig/s72-c/DSC00099.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
