MURMÚRIOS DE LISBOA CIV

The Vampire & the Werewolf - Part II


She has decided. At least for now. She thought it would take her a long time. It was quite easy, though.
She chooses the werewolf disguised as a vampire.


The reasons are simple and thus presented:
1. She enjoys masks, but in Venice, not in Lisbon.
2. She's tired of begging for crumbs.
3. She's a simple soul, looking for another simple soul. Although sometimes she forgets this.
4. Her mind enjoys the idea of the vampire, her body desires the werewolf. And she's tired of feeding only her mind.
5. Once upon a time, long ago, she learned that love needs no masks. A simple, kind, feisty werewolf taught her that.


A problem arises:
She wants the werewolf to know all this. But how? She's quite sure if he knew all this, he would quit his vampire disguise and come running to her flesh, as he should. But she has no idea how to tell him. They never reached speaking terms, you see. This is becoming of late quite a cunundrum, for when she makes her mind up about something, she hardly rests until she can make it happen, somehow.


On the other hand:
She could be completely wrong. Maybe if he knew all this, he would just laugh at her, laugh at her silly her. Or even worse, think her totally mad. A mad woman. A woman old enough to not be having fantasies with complete strangers who ...


On second thoughts:
Maybe she would prefer the vampire, after all. At least she's positive he wouldn't laugh at her. Because he knows and he never did. In fact, she's almost sure he pities her. He treats her with utmost respect and keeps her at a safe distance, without leting her know that he knows. Quite the politician.

The only problem is:

She's quite sure he thinks of her as a kid. She's almost positive he feels quite amused by the whole situation - a student infatuated with him. How long has it been since that has happened? How long? He's not young anymore. And he was never that handsome, anyway. But when he was younger, he did break quite a considerable amount of female hearts. It's his funny side. The ability he has of making you think you're a little bit important in his life. The charm wins them all. Or it used to, anyway. Nowadays it seems that the younger ones think of him as a sweet, qiut, uncle sort of type and the older ones see right through the fox that he is and are just not impressed in the least. Actually, she has a feeling that most of them pity him. There he goes ... they think ... who does he think he fools anymore? ...

Sometimes, very often in fact, she herself pities him. All those masks, all that running around on empty feelings and empty ground. What the hell for? To climb what ladder? To hide what?

Tennessee Williams was quite right, when he said, describing the master piece he created called "A Streetcar Named Desire": “… I think its best quality is its authenticity or its fidelity to life. There are no ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people. Some are a little better or a little worse but all are activated more by misunderstanding than malice. A blindness to what is going on in each other’s hearts. Stanley sees Blanche not as a desperate, driven creature, backed into a last corner to make a last desperate stand – but a calculating bitch with ‘round heels’ ... Nobody sees anybody truly but all through the flaws of their own egos. That is the way we all see each other in life. Vanity, fear, desire, competition – all such distortions within our own egos – condition our vision of those in relation to us. Add to those distortions in our own egos, the corresponding distortions in the egos of others, and you see how cloudy the glass must become through which we look at each other. That’s how it is in all living relationships except when there is that rare case of two people who love intensely enough to burn through all those layers of opacity and see each other’s naked hearts. Such cases seem purely theoretical to me.”

Can't they see this? Don't they know that this is the truth, the absolute truth about the world?

MAGIC MOMENTS 225

Tunes for Travelers 30fkdsf
No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.

One of these days I'm gonna
change my evil ways
'Till then I'll just keep riding on

Macro Secrets 176

You only really know death

when you get close to it;

if you do die, you'll never know what it is

OS ATLETAS DE ANDRÓMEDA

VALENTINO ROSSI

Não há outra maneira de apresentar Rossi.

Em cima de uma mota, o corpo colado à pista,

dançando uma valsa que se desenha à velocidade da luz.

"Riding a race bike is an art -

a thing that you do because

you feel something inside."

É ali que Rossi se sente feliz. E nós felizes por vê-lo.

Rossi parece não ter limites. Já o apelidaram de GOAT (Cabra),
iniciais de Greatest of All Time ou Melhor de Todos os Tempos.
No seu curriculum contam-se 9
campeonatos mundiais de motociclismo.
Coisa pouca, para um "puto" com 33 anos apenas.

Foi considerado um dos cinco melhores desportistas mundiais

da primeira década do terceiro milénio (2000-2010).

Excêntrico, divertido e cool,

pode-se dizer que ele é o epítome

de uma moto humana.

Só lhe faltam as rodas.

PALAVRAS TRADUZIDAS 15

Elvis Presley - Jailhouse Rock

O guarda deu uma festa na prisão municipal
A banda da prisão estava lá e começaram a gemer
A banda saltou e aquilo começou a abanar
Deviam ter ouvido aqueles gajos a cantar

Vamos rockar, toda a gente, vamos rockar
Toda a gente no bloco prisional inteiro
Dançava ao som do Rock da Prisão

Aranha Murphy tocou o saxofone tenor
O Pequeno Joe soprava no trombone
O baterista de Illinois partiu aquilo tudo
Toda a secção de ritmo era o Gang Púrpura
Vamos rockar, toda a gente, vamos rockar
Toda a gente no bloco prisional inteiro
Dançava ao som do Rock da Prisão

O número 47 disse ao número 3
És o prisioneiro mais giro que eu já vi
Folgaria muito na tua companhia
Vá lá e faz o Rock da Prisão comigo
Vamos rockar, toda a gente, vamos rockar

Toda a gente no bloco prisional inteiro
Dançava ao som do Rock da Prisão

O gajo triste estava sentado numa pedra
A chorar num canto, sozinho
O guarda disse, hey, amigo, não sejas quadrado
Se não consegues arranjar um parceiro usa uma cadeira
Vamos rockar, toda a gente, vamos rockar

Toda a gente no bloco prisional inteiro
Dançava ao som do Rock da Prisão

Henry Matreiro disse a Bugsy, por amor de deus
Ninguém está a olhar, agora é a nossa oportunidade para fugir
Bugsy virou-se para o Matreiro e disse
Ná, ná, quero ficar por aqui mais um bocado e divertir-me
Vamos rockar, toda a gente, vamos rockar
Toda a gente no bloco prisional inteiro
Dançava ao som do Rock da Prisão
Dançava ao som do Rock da Prisão

Dançava ao som do Rock da Prisão

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 41

The Serial Killer - Part XXII

Vincenzo Verzeni was an italian serial killer who committed six rapes and two killings. He strangled his victims (all women) and committed acts of cannibalism, mutilation, vampirism and maybe even necrophilia.

In case you're wondering, this is the real thing. As you must have learned by now, what matters is not quantity but quality here. And Vincenzo offers us exactly the right amount of the latter. He certainly displays all of the classical features of what we are talking here: strange, difunctional, eccentric, inteligent.

Vincenzo Verzeni was born into an extremely bigoted and dysfunctional family in the mid-XVIII's. He was considered different and eccentric by his own family and peers, as he was rather smart and preferred to spend time alone.

In 1870s, Verzeni committed two murders and had attempted to kill several others. One of the attempted murders was the cause of his capture and conviction. In 1873, when walking, Verzeni noticed an 18 year-old woman in her front yard. He went to her and began attacking her, choking her, but when he heard a noise nearby, he ran off. The woman reported the attack to the police, who had Verzeni in custody.

Verzeni preferred strangling his victims, which is why he was nicknamed The Vampire Strangler of Bergamo. He told police that the act of strangling someone gave him sexual pleasure. But, strangling was not the end of his murders; after Verzeni strangled his victims, he would tear out their intestines and genital with his bare hands. He even bite them on their thighs, drinking their blood through the wounds.

After one of the murders, Verzeni carried the intestines and clothes away from the site so that he could smell and fill the insides of the victim while he walked home. He discarded them, afraid that his mother would find them and become suspicious.

Verzeni was found guilty and was sentenced to hard labor for life at a psychiatric hospital. He died in custody in 1918.

MAGIC MOMENTS 224

Tunes for Travelers 29fkdsf
No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.

Well that long black train

got my baby and gone

Macro Secrets 175

Perhaps in another life

MURMÚRIOS DE LISBOA CIII

The Vampire & the Werewolf - Part I

Which one does she prefer? The funny thing is that they seem to be switched. The vampire has the face of a werewolf, whereas the werewolf looks like a vampire.

I shall explain:

The vampire is a professor at the university. She calls him the "literary whore" because he seems to be ambitious and lick fine asses to climb up the ladder of prestige. He's smart, wise, diplomatic, a gentleman. He's also cinical and deceiving, wearing a thousand masks, each one an exquisite and intricate composition by itself, appropriate for each occasion in his life. He always knows what to say, how and when to laugh and the exact distance to keep someone not welcome. She needs a dictionary to talk to him. He's a charmer, but in a cold, distant way. A fake. The man with the thousand masks. He will suck your soul to get exactly what he wants, but not a single drop more. He will leave you dry with want and not feel a single ounce of regret.

She wishes that deep down inside he would be a good heart. A good man. A passionate and sensitive soul. Hiding beneath all the masks of a vampire. But she suspects it's only wishfull thinking, to make things easier. She did see a possibility of heaven, once, when his eyes smiled some time ago, behind all the masks. It was a magical moment, but it vanished as soon as it began. She used to be in love with him, but then she decided she didn't want to be in love with him anymore. What for? He doesn't even see her. Or does he?

From a distance that's exactly what he looked and felt like, that morning when she was waiting for him. A werewolf, hunting, for her. But all is happening in her imagination and nowhere else.

The werewolf is the guy who works at the garage. She's been looking at him for the past 8 years and she never seems to get tired of that face. He's handsome, slick, muscular, has a cool beard and hardly ever smiles, just like a vampire would behave. She has fantasies with his body several times a month. She knows he likes the chinese symbol of yin-yang and motorbikes. She has no idea what kind of effect she has on him, but she has caught him several times looking at her when she leaves the house, and pretending to keep sweeping the floor. He looks like a cold-hearted vampire, but she's almost positive that he is a young, strong, unpredictable werewolf deep down inside. She falls in love with him almost every day. She imagines that he would feel like a comforting dock to rest her body and a simple soul to match her mind. Unlike the real vampire, he's probably not that smart or diplomatic. He would tear her clothes off and be down to earth, no masks and no diplomacy. She knows she would love it.

Which one does she prefer? If given the choice, which one would she choose? If both of them were actually hunting for her, which one would she prefer would catch her?

She hasn't decided. After all, she may have her whole life to do it. Neither seems to consider her a good prey.

PALAVRAS ESTÚPIDAS 158

The Gift

She doesn't see things coming anymore. Nothing. Her once finelly tuned inner antennas seemed to have reached the end. Caput. No more power. No more batteries.

It was a gift that grew slowly, but undeniably, throughout her life. She couldn't say that she was very happy about it. It was surprinsing, strange, frightening, sometimes. Especially when bad things were sensed. It started very quietly around her late teens and was reaching its height at her late thirties. When, suddenly, it stopped.

Because the cancer came. The cancer was not felt. It was the one thing never caught by the antennas. She remembers long before the cancer, sensing that she would have cancer. And that was as far as her sensing would go. So sometimes she feared she would die from it, because she couldn't sense anything else after that.

Now she knows that she sensed a "death", not a real one, but a metaphorical death. She did die, her old self anyway, a part of it. And she was reborn. The cancer did it.

The cancer was one of the best things that ever happened to her. She knows people are quite shocked when she says this. How can a cancer be one of the best things in one's life?, they ask, bewildered.

It's very simple:

1. It didn't kill her, literally. If it had, it would not have been a good thing, obviously.

2. It made her change her mind about life and death. She used to want to die every other day. When it came, she found out she didn't really want that to happen.

3. It made her a little bit more fearless. Before the cancer, she said "no" a lot more times because she was frightened of everything. After the cancer she's still frightened, but she says "yes", inspite of it.

4. It made her realize life's too short, so you better enjoy it while you can.

5. It made her discover that life, inspite of everything, is beautiful. The alternative is a dark void of emptiness she does not want to tread so soon.

6. It stopped the sensing.

She doesn't guess things anymore. She has no idea of what is going to happen. It's a relief, actually. It can be very unsettling to know something is going to happen, but having no idea what it is. Only if it's good or bad.

She wants to live, not to be a fortune teller.

OS ATLETAS DE ANDRÓMEDA

Usova, Maya e Zhulin, Alexander

O par mais artístico e elegante de que há memória
na patinagem artística.
A sua formação prévia em bailado clássico
fazia a diferença para os outros pares, não apenas
do ponto de vista técnico, mas também na emoção
profunda que colocavam nas suas danças.

Maya Usova e Alexander Zhulin patirnaram juntos durante 14 anos

e disputaram sempre

os primeiros lugares das competições

de patinagem artística de 1988 a 1994.

Foram medalhados de prata e bronze

em campeonatos europeus e mundiais de dança.

Os eternos segundos, como se dizia na altura,

apenas conseguiram o ouro europeu e mundial na época de 1992-93.

PALAVRAS TRADUZIDAS 14

Bruce Springsteen - Born in the USA

Nascido numa terra de mortos
O primeiro pontapé que levei foi quando caí no chão
Acabas como um cão que levou demasiado
Até que acabas a vida a tapar buracos

Nascido nos EUA
Eu nasci nos EUA
Eu nasci nos EUA
Nasci nos EUA

Meti-me numa pequena confusão por isso puseram
Uma espingarda nas minhas mãos
Mandaram-me para uma terra estrangeira para ir
Matar o homem amarelo

Nascido nos EUA

Eu nasci nos EUA

Eu nasci nos EUA

Nasci nos EUA

Voltei para a refinaria da terra
O home que me contratou disse: "filho, se fosse eu a decidir"
Fui ter com o meu delegado dos assuntos de veteranos
Ele disse: "filho, será que não percebes"

Tinha um irmão em khe sahn a lutar contra os viet cong
Eles ainda lá estão ele já se foi
Tinha uma mulher que amava em Saigão

Agora só tenho uma fotografia dele nos braços dela

Na sombra da penitenciária
Ao pé dos fogos de gás da refinaria
Ando há 10 anos a queimar a estrada
Não tenho para onde fugir não tenho para onde ir

Nascido nos EUA

Eu nasci nos EUA

Eu nasci nos EUA

Nasci nos EUA

Sou um tipo porreiro nos EUA

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 40

The Serial Killer - Part XXI

Jean-Baptiste Troppman murdered 8 members of the unrelated Kinck family over a period of several months in 1869. Feeding Kinck first with a lethal dose of prussic acid mixed in wine, he then wired to his wife asking her for money. Mrs. Kinck, believing Jean-baptiste was acting in behalf of her husband, sent him a check allong with her. Unable to cash the money, he arranged a meeting with the wife in Paris. Manwhile he killed one of Kincks sons. Once he had the money in his pocket he butchered Mrs. Kinck and her remaining five children in a remote spot near the Pantin Common.

The next day the bloodbath was uncovered by a workman who uncovered the mutilated remains of Hortense and her children. More charges were added against Troppman once the bodies of Gustave and Jean Kinck were unearthed. Jean-Baptiste was sentenced to death for the eight killings and, on January 19, 1870 -- at the tender age of 22 -- he was guillotined.

Jean-Baptiste is considered one of the first spree-killers. The difference between a spree-killer and a serial killer is that the first one does not have what is called the cooling off period between murders. In other words, a spree-killer is a lamer. No patience. No method. No class.

MAGIC MOMENTS 223

Tunes for Travelers 28fkdsf
No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.

As I pulled away slowly, feeling so holy,

God knows, I was feeling alive

Macro Secrets 174

Those who say life sucks

Have never felt the taste of death

Death sucks!

OS ATLETAS DE ANDRÓMEDA

Scherbo, Vitaly

Vitaly Scherbo realiza um exercício de argolas,
uma das suas especialidades.
Esta fotografia mostra de forma quase dolorosa
a força, a intensidade do treino, a concentração
e a perfeição que o tornaram um dos
atletas mais extraordinários de sempre.


"Generally speaking,
I think it is unbecoming
to act as a national hero,
wave hands and so on."

Vitaly foi sempre um rebelde, algo inconsistente, o que levou os seus treinadores a pensarem que ele não possuia as capacidades suficientes para ganhar medalhas, ao contrário dos seus companheiros de equipa.
Enganaram-se. Em apenas 3 dias de competição nos Jogos Olímpics de Barcelona,
em 1992, Vitaly Scherbo tornou-se num dos maiores ginastas de sempre.
Ganhou seis medalhas de ouro, um feito que mais nenhum ginasta conseguiu
e foi apenas ultrapassado pelos nadadores
Mark Spitz e Michael Phelps.
Seis medalhas em três dias significam no entanto 13 anos
de um trabalho duro, intenso e ininterrupto.
Ele foi também o único ginasta a ter ganho um título mundial
em todos os 8 eventos que fazem parte da competição masculina: All-Around em 1993, Equipas em 1991, Solo em 1994, 1995 e 1996, Barra horizontal em 1994, Paralelas em 1993 e 1995, Cavalo em 1992, Argolas em 1992 e Salto em 1993 e 1994.

PALAVRAS TRADUZIDAS 13

Adele - Rolling in the Deep

Há um fogo a começar no meu coração
Que é quase uma febre e me está a tirar da escuridão
Finalmente, consigo-te ver claramente
Vá, trai-me e eu destapo-te a carapuça 


Vê como eu saio com cada pedaço teu
Não subestimes as coisas que eu vou fazer
Há um fogo a começar no meu coração
Que é quase uma febre e me está a tirar da escuridão


As cicatrizes do teu amor recordam-me de nós dois
Fazem-me pensar que quase tivémos tudo
As cicatrizes do teu amor deixam-me sem fôlego
Não consigo deixar de sentir

Nós podíamos ter tido tudo
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
Rolando nas profundezas
(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)
Tinhas o meu coração dentro da tua mão
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
E brincaste com ele

(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)


Bebé, eu não tenho nenhuma história para contar
Mas ouvi uma sobre ti e vou fazer a tua cabeça latejar
Pensa em mim nas profundezas do teu desespero
Faz uma casa aí em baixo, porque a minha de certeza que não vai ser partilhada
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
As cicatrizes do teu amor lembram-me de mim
(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)
Fazem-me pensar que quase tivémos tudo
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
As cicatrizes do teu amor deixamme sem fôlego
(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)
Não consigo deixar de sentir

Nós podíamos ter tido tudo
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
Rolando nas profundezas
(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)
Tinhas o meu coração dentro da tua mão
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
E brincaste com ele
(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)

Podíamos ter tido tudo
Rolando nas profundezas
Tinhas o meu coração dentro da tua mão
Mas brincaste com ele

Lança a tua alma em cada porta aberta
Conta as tuas orações para encontrares o que procuras
Transforma a minha mágoa em ouro valioso
Se me pagares na mesma moeda vais colher o que semeaste

(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
Nós podíamos ter tido tudo
(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)
Nós podíamos ter tido tudo
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
Tudo, tudo, tudo

(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)
Nós podíamos ter tido tudo
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
Rolando nas profundezas
(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)
Tinhas o meu coração dentro da tua mão
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
E brincaste com ele
(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)

Podíamos ter tido tudo
(Vais desejar nunca me teres conhecido)
Rolando nas profundezas
(Lágrimas vão cair, rolando nas profundezas)
Tinhas o meu coração dentro da tua mão

Mas brincaste com ele
Brincaste com ele
Brincaste com ele
Brincaste com ele

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 39

The Serial Killer - Part XX

Amelia Dyer was a baby-farm murderess, suspected of murdering more than 400 babies, although only 4 bodies were ever recovered. The daughter of a master shoemaker, she learned to read and write and developed a love of literature and poetry. However, her somewhat privileged childhood was marred by the mental illness of her mother, caused by typhus. Amelia witnessed her mother's violent fits and was obliged to care for her until she died raving in 1848. Researchers would later comment on the effect this had on Amelia, and also what it would teach Amelia about the signs exhibited by those who appear to lose their mind through illness.

For a couple of years, after marrying, she trained as a nurse, a somewhat gruelling job in Victorian times, but it was seen as a respectable occupation. She also learnt of an easier way to earn a living, after her husband died — using her own home to provide lodgings for young women who had conceived illegitimately and then farming off the babies for adoption or allowing them to die of neglect and malnutrition. Unmarried mothers in Victorian England often struggled to gain an income, which led to the practice of baby farming in which individuals acted as adoption or fostering agents, in return for regular payments or a single, up-front fee from the babies’ mothers. The predicament of the parents involved was often exploited for financial gain: if a baby had well-off parents who were simply anxious to keep the birth secret, the single fee might be as much as £80. £50 might be negotiated if the father of the child wanted to hush up his involvement. However, it was more common for these expectant young women, whose "immorality" even precluded acceptance, at that time, into workhouses, to be impoverished. Such women would be charged about £5.

Unscrupulous carers resorted to starving the farmed-out babies, to save money and even to hasten death. Noisy or demanding babies could be sedated with easily-available alcohol and/or opiates.Godfrey's Cordial — known colloquially as "Mother's Friend", (a syrup containing opium)—was a popular choice, but there were several other similar preparations. Many children died as a result of such dubious practices.

Amelia was apparently keen to make money from baby farming, and alongside taking in expectant women, she would advertise to nurse and adopt a baby, in return for a substantial one-off payment and adequate clothing for the child. At some point in her baby farming career, Amelia was prepared to forego the expense and inconvenience of letting the children die through neglect and starvation; soon after the receipt of each child, she murdered them, thus allowing her to pocket most or all of the entire fee. For some time, Dyer eluded the resulting interest of police. She was eventually caught in 1879 after a doctor was suspicious about the number of child deaths he had been called to certify in Dyer's care. However, instead of being convicted of murder or manslaughter, she was sentenced to six months' hard labour for neglect. The experience allegedly almost destroyed her mentally. Upon release, she attempted to resume her nursing career. She had spells in mental hospitals due to her alleged mental instability and suicidal tendencies; these always coincided with times when it was convenient for her to "disappear". Being a former asylum nurse Amelia knew how to behave to ensure a relatively comfortable existence as an asylum inmate. Dyer appears to have begun abusing alcohol and opium-based products early in her killing career; her mental instability could have been related to her substance abuse. Inevitably, she returned to baby farming, and murder. Dyer realized the folly of involving doctors to issue death certificates and began disposing of the bodies herself. The precarious nature and extent of her activities again prompted undesirable attention; she was alert to the attentions of police—and of parents seeking to reclaim their children. She and her family frequently relocated to different towns and cities to escape suspicion, regain anonymity—and to acquire new business. Over the years, Dyer used a succession of aliases. Eventually the police arrested her again, after a body found in the river Thames was connected to her. The police calculated that in the previous few months alone, at least twenty children had been placed in the care of a "Mrs. Thomas", now revealed to be Amelia Dyer. This rate of murder has led to some estimates that Mrs Dyer may, over the course of decades, have killed over 400 babies and children, making her one of the most prolific murderers ever, as well as the most prolific murderess ever.
Amelia Dyer was arrested on April 4 and charged with murder. During April, the Thames was dragged and six more bodies were discovered, including Doris Marmon and Harry Simmons—Dyer's last victims. Each baby had been strangled with white tape, which as she later told the police "was how you could tell it was one of mine". It took the jury only four and a half minutes to find her guilty. She was hanged on 1896. It is uncertain how many more children Amelia Dyer murdered. However, inquiries from mothers, evidence of other witnesses, and material found in Dyer’s homes, including letters and many babies' clothes, pointed to many more. The Dyer case caused a scandal. She became known as the "Ogress of Reading", and she inspired a popular ballad:


The old baby farmer, the wretched Miss Dyer
At the Old Bailey her wages is paid.
In times long ago, we'd 'a' made a big fy-er
And roasted so nicely that wicked old jade.


Of course Amelia was not a serial killer, since her primary motive was money and not the chikdren's deaths themselves. Yet, there is an interesting feature to her crimes - she was a neat killer, that is an organised one, something common to successfull serial killers.

MAGIC MOMENTS 222

Tunes for Travelers 27fkdsf
No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.

Somewhere along the way,
you might find out who you are

Macro Secrets 173

Some people should not

be alowed to die

OS ATLETAS DE ANDRÓMEDA

Rosa Mota

Pequena, magra, frágil?

Nem pensar. As aparências enganam, e muito

no caso de Rosa Mota. 

Criticavam-na por não se depilar nas axilas

e mesmo assim levantar os braços em sinal de vitória.

Rosinha queria lá saber disso.

Ela só se importava com uma coisa - ganhar!

"Dá-me prazer correr a maratona

porque gosto de apreciar a paisagem."

Rosa Mota foi a primeira mulher portuguesa

a ganhar uma medalha nos Jogos Olímpicos,

de bronze, em Los Angeles, em 1984.

Antes disso já vencera a maratona

do Campeonato Mundial de Atenas, em 1982.

Depois disso ganhou a medalha de ouro

em Tóquio, em 1986 e a de ouro nos Jogos Olímpicos de 1988, em Seul.

Todos nos recordamos de certeza daquele momento emocionante

e algo cómico quando Rosa dá uma volta ao estádio

e pergunta se já acabou. Por ela daria mais umas 10 se fosse preciso,

foi a sensação que todos tivémos.

A menina do Douro, que corria por vielas e descampados

para fugir ao escuro, teve uma doença rara que só o médico,

futuro companheiro e treinador José Pedrosa

conseguiu curar: asma de esforço.

Propôs-lhe a maratona.

E ela aceitou.

PALAVRAS TRADUZIDAS 12

Pearl Jam - Better Man

Esperando, olhando para o relógio, são 4 horas, tem que parar
Diz-lhe, não aguentes mais, ela treina o seu discurso

Enquanto ele abre a porta, ela rola para o outro lado ...
finge estar a dormir enquanto ele a observa

Ela mente e diz-lhe que está apaixonada por ele, que não consegue encontrar um homem melhor que ele

Ela sonha a cores, ela sonha em encarnado, não consegue encontrar homem melhor
Não consegue encontrar homem melhor

Não consegue encontrar homem melhor
Ohh...

Fala sozinha, ninguém mais precisa de saber; ela diz a si própria ...
Oh...

Recorda-se de quando era corajosa e forte

E à espera que o mundo chegasse ...

Jura que sabia, agora jura que ele se foi

Ela mente e diz que está apaixonada por ele, que não consegue encontrar homem melhor ...

Ela sonha a cores, ela sonha em encarnado, não consegue encontrar homem melhor

Ela mente e diz que está apaixonada por ele, que não consegue encontrar homem melhor ...

Ela sonha a cores, ela sonha em encarnado, não consegue encontrar homem melhor

Não consegue encontrar homem melhor

Não consegue encontrar homem melhor

Sim ...

Ela amavao, sim ... ela não quer ir-se embora assim

Ela precisa dele, sim ... é por isso que voltará

Não consegue encontrar homem melhor

Não consegue encontrar homem melhor

Não consegue encontrar homem melhor

Não consegue encontrar homem melhor

passa o teste

MAGIC MOMENTS 221

Tunes for Travelers 26fkdsf
No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.

You got a fast car, I gotta plan to get us out of here

Macro Secrets 172

Killers are forgiven.

Why can't you be?

OS ATLETAS DE ANDRÓMEDA

Ronnie O'Sullivan

Esta fotografia fantástica não mostra Ronnie a jogar.

Mas mostra tudo o que ele usa para jogar - personalidade,

excentricidade, arrogância, confiança, poder.

Poder sobre o público que, por trás de si,

tal e qual as hostes demoníacas por trás de um

bem parecido e elegante demónio, contemplam

os feitos deste Mestre do Snooker.

"I do entertain a lot of negative thoughts and I haven't got any self-belief.

But I haven't done bad for someone whithout any self-belief."

Ronnie O'Sullivan é apelidado The Rocket, por ter um jogo muito rápido.
Mas não é apenas o seu jogo que o torna popular.
Ronnie é aquilo que se pode chamar um maverick no meio.
A sua vida pessoal é tão ou mais interessante
para o público do que o próprio jogador. Filho de um homem
que cumpre pena perpétua por assassínio, o inglês sofre de depressões
frequentes e ameaça abandonar a carreira mais vezes do que
os campeonatos mundiais que já venceu - três.
Excêntrico, rebelde, temperamental e genial,
O'Sullivan atrai porque joga tanto com a cabeça
como com o coração.
Mais do que um desportista, Ronnie é uma rock star.

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 38

The Serial Killer - Part XIX

William Palmer worked as an apprentice at a Liverpool chemist's when he was 17 years old, but was dismissed after three months following allegations that he stole money. He studied medicine in London, and qualified as a physician in 1846. He returned to his home town of Rugeley to practise as a doctor, and married Ann Thornton in 1847. His new mother-in-law, also called Ann Thornton, had inherited a fortune of £8,000 after Colonel Brookes committed suicide in 1834. She died on 18 January 1849, two weeks after coming to stay with Palmer; she was known to have lent him money. An elderly Dr Bamford recorded a verdict of apoplexy. Palmer was disappointed with the inheritance he and his wife gained from the death, having expected it to be much greater.

Palmer then became interested in horse racing and borrowed money from Leonard Bladen, a man he met at the races. Bladen lent him £600, but died in agony at Palmer's house on 10 May 1850. His wife was surprised to find that Bladen died with little money on him, despite having recently won a large sum at the races; his betting books were also missing, thus there was no evidence of his having lent Palmer any money. William and Ann had five children but except for the first born, all the others died in infancy, the cause of death listed as convulsions. As infant mortality was not uncommon a the time, these deaths were not initially seen as suspicious, though after Palmer's conviction in 1856 there was speculation that he had administered poison to the children to avoid the expense of more mouths to feed. By 1854 Palmer was heavily in debt, and he began forging his mother's signature to pay off creditors.He took out life insurance on his wife with the Prince of Wales Insurance Company, and paid out a premium of £750 for a policy of £13,000. The death of Ann Palmer followed on 29 September 1854, at only 27 years old. She was believed to have died of cholera, as a cholera pandemic was affecting Great Britain (causing 23,000 deaths across the country.

Still heavily in debt, with two creditors (whom he owed £12,500 and £10,400) threatening to speak to his mother (thereby exposing his fraud), Palmer attempted to take out life insurance on his brother, Walter, for the sum of £84,000. Unable to find a company willing to insure him for such a sum, he instead returned to the Prince of Wales Insurance Company, paying out a premium of £780 for a policy of £14,000. Walter was a drunk, and soon became reliant on his brother, who readily plied him with several bottles of gin and brandy a day. Walter Palmer died on 16 August 1855. However the insurance company refused to pay up, and instead dispatched inspectors Simpson and Field to investigate. The pair found that William Palmer had also been attempting to take out £10,000 worth of insurance on the life of George Bate, a farmer who was briefly under his employment. They found that Bates was either misinformed or lying about the details of his insurance policy, and they informed Palmer that the company would not pay out on the death of his brother, and that they further recommended a further enquiry into his death.

He then planned the murder of his friend John Cook, which he accomplished by poisoning him.

Palmer was arrested on the charge of murder and forgery (a creditor had told the police his suspicions that Palmer had been forging his mother's signature) and detained. The jury deliberated for just over an hour before returning a verdict of guilty. A death sentence was handed down, to no reaction from Palmer.

Some 30,000 were at Stafford prison on 14 June 1856 to see Palmer's public execution by hanging. As he stepped onto the gallows, Palmer is said to have looked at the trapdoor and exclaimed, "Are you sure it's safe?" William Palmer was buried beside the prison chapel in a grave filled with quicklime.

We return to history with a fake serial killer. Palmer did it for money, which is, as we all should agree by now, the lowest possible reason for anyone to comit serial killing.