terça-feira, 31 de janeiro de 2012

OS PERSONAGENS DE ANDRÓMEDA

TWO SOCKS
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ASK LºDº








Curriculum Vitae
Filiação:
Michael Blake


Corpo e Alma: Teddy e Buck

Nacionalidade: Americana


Profissão: Lobo solitário

Naturalidade: Algures na Fronteira Oeste

Habilitações: Solitário. Só. Desconfiado. Esfomeado. Leal. Two Socks é a versão moderna da raposa de Saint-Exupéry, trasladada para a fronteira oeste dos EUA. Curioso. Autónomo. Amigo. Fiel. Sensível. Maroto. Brincalhão. Mudo. Feroz. Tímido. Atrevido. Doce. Livre. Um verdadeiro símbolo de liberdade, numa terra e numa gente que a iria perder irremediavelmente.

Filosofia de Vida: Se me respeitares e ao meu território, eu farei o mesmo por ti.

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segunda-feira, 30 de janeiro de 2012

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 21

The Serial Killer - Part XI
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One of my favourites ever is Elizabeth Báthory or, as she would later be known, the "Blood Countess of Transylvania". Considered to be the most prolific female serial killer in history, the hungarian aristocrat allegedly tortured and killed 650 girls and young women, daughters of local peasants, many of whom were lured to Csejte Castle by offers of well-paid work as maidservants. Later, she is said to have begun to kill daughters of the lesser gentry, who were sent to her gynaeceum by their parents to learn courtly etiquette, in a search for better blood.
Although the descriptions of torture that emerged during the trials were often based on hearsay. nevertheless the atrocities described most consistently included severe beatings, burning, mutilation and starvation. Some witnesses reported having seen traces of torture on dead bodies, some of which were buried in graveyards, and others in unmarked locations. Later writings about the case have led to legendary accounts of the Countess bathing in the blood of virgins in order to retain her youth.

We do not know why she did what she did. I like to think that she did it because she could, because she thought it was fun. Maybe envy moved her. Envy of youth. She was married with the age of 14 to a man 4 years older than her and probably for political reasons within the circles of aristocracy. Her husband left her alone most of the time, while he studied in Vienna. It was only after his death, at the age of 47, that Elizabeth began her murdering spree. Maybe she wanted to get revenge, because she knew her youth was for ever lost and wasted.

Some say she was a victim of a politically motivated conspiracy. At the time, there was great conflict between religions, including Protestant ones, and this was related to the extension of Habsburg power over Hungary. As a Transylvanian Protestant aristocrat, Elizabeth belonged to a group generally opposed to the Habsburgs. This may very well be true. Sometimes the best stories live only in the people's imagination and that is even more telling than reality. It tells us more about humans than anything else. It shows us they enjoy the vivid and bloody gruesome details of violence and vice. Maybe because they are not sufficiently brave to commit it themselves.
No public trial was held, for fear of tarnishing the aristocracy. Elizabeth, was imprisoned in a room of her own castle until her death, four years later. She was not forgotten, though, and that may very well be her greatest victory over time and decay. She still remains the Blood Queen.

domingo, 29 de janeiro de 2012

Macro Secrets 151



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The road keeps calling ... ever more insistent

sexta-feira, 27 de janeiro de 2012

MAGIC MOMENTS 199

Tunes for Travelers 5
fkdsf
No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.
fkdsçlf



I'm an excellent driver


fºd




quinta-feira, 26 de janeiro de 2012

PALAVRAS EMPRESTADAS 76



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"Os nossos utensílios de escrita participam na elaboração das nossas ideias."
Friedrich Nietzsche

quarta-feira, 25 de janeiro de 2012

OS PERSONAGENS DE ANDRÓMEDA

TERRY MALLOY
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LÇASK LºDº

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Curriculum Vitae
Filiação:
Budd Schulberg e Marlon Brando


Corpo e Alma: Marlon Brando (e nenhum outro, jamais)

Nacionalidade: Americana


Profissão: Estivador

Naturalidade: New Jersey

Habilitações: Perdido. Descarrilado. Enganado. Encurralado. Protegido. Abandonado. Perseguido. Apaixonado. Frágil. Terry não sabe o que quer da vida, ou sabia mas entretanto alguém lhe destruiu o sonho. Terry queria ser um jogador de boxe, ele sabe que se o tivessem deixado, teria ido longe. Outros valores cifrados se levantaram mais alto e o sonho de Terry escorreu pela valeta abaixo até ir parar à sarjeta, pela mão do seu irmão, que ele ainda assim ama. Pau-mandado. Terry não quer chatices, não se quer envolver, não quer ter opinião. É cobarde ou apenas preguiçoso? A paixão despertá-lo-á e fará dele outro homem, aquele que ficou em potência esquecido há anos atrás. Herói. Corajoso. Homem com H grande. Terry salvará a honra do convento.

Filosofia de Vida: "Hey, you wanna hear my philosophy of life? Do it to him before he does it to you."

ºlkçlkl



terça-feira, 24 de janeiro de 2012

Macro Secrets 150


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Change! Change! Change!

segunda-feira, 23 de janeiro de 2012

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 20

The Serial Killer - Part X
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Of course we all make mistakes. It happens to the best. If Joan of Arc knew that her former companion-in-arms Gilles de Rais would sexually assault and kill an estimated 800 peasant boys whom he abducted from surrounding villages to take to his castle, I doubt if she would ever want to have been associated with such a demon. We are always someone's neighbour, as Agatha Christie would put it.
Gilles was one of the wealthiest man in europe in the 15th Century. Money and vices usually walk hand in hand, which is the same as saying that human beings are all the same, the only difference lies in their possessions. When one has the possibility, one does, regardless of moral or ethical principles.
Gilles faught with Joan for the independence of France during the Hundred Years' War, against the English. He then retired from military life, wasted his imense wealth on an extravagant thearical spectacle and became engaged in the occult. He was particularly interested in alchemy and demon summoning. My belief is that he wanted to recover his depleted fortune by discovering the secret of making gold or doing a pact with the Devil himself. His wanderings must have taken a toll on his already fragile sanity - Gilles was known to be extravagant, spending everything on his lunatic theatrical creation and designing his own church robes for the Chapel of the Holy Innocents he built.
The demon summons were not successfull and the summoner asked for parts of a child to satisfie it. This did not work, but it seems Gilles developed a taste for the little ones from then on. I suspect he kept trying to appease the demon, in order to get his gold, but at the same time he must have found he enjoyed sodomizing innocent boys.
Sometimes this happens. You have a purpose, but you find that in the process something else teases your imagination. It happened to me. At first what drove me was anger, but then I found I took pleasure in watching the several stages of death. I particularly enjoy the way Gilles describes his own pleasure: “when the children were dead, I kissed them and those who had the most handsome limbs and heads I held up to admire them, and had their bodies cruelly cut open and took delight at the sight of their inner organs; and very often when the children were dying I sat on their stomachs and took pleasure in seeing them die and laughed."
The killings ended when a violent dispute with a clergyman led to an ecclesiastical investigation which uncovered Gilles crimes. Some say he was framed for political reasons, but I don't think that makes any sense. No one would describe with such delight and wonder someone else's crimes.
He confessed under torture, as costumary, was condemned to death and hanged at Nantes on 26 October 1440.

Fortunately for Joan, she never even knew what her brother in arms did. She was burnt alive even before Gilles started murdering children, in 1431.

domingo, 22 de janeiro de 2012

MAGIC MOMENTS 198

Tunes for Travelers 4
fkdsf
No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.
fkdsçlf

Honey, I just wonder what you're doin' in the back of your Pink Cadillac

fºds



sábado, 21 de janeiro de 2012

Macro Secrets 149


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Admit that are things you can't change in yourself

sexta-feira, 20 de janeiro de 2012

OS PERSONAGENS DE ANDRÓMEDA

STANLEY KOWALSKI
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LÇASK

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Curriculum Vitae
Filiação:
Tennessee Williams e Marlon Brando


Corpo e Alma: Marlon Brando (e mais ninguém, jamais)

Nacionalidade: Americana


Profissão: Ex-militar da Guerra da Coreia e vendedor de peças de fábrica

Naturalidade: New Orleans

Habilitações: Mimado. Violento. Burro. Físico. Sensual. Bruto. Irascível. Egoísta. Obtuso. Limitado. Stanley pensa que o mundo é feito à sua medida, e a sua medida é muito curta. Acredita que todas as mulheres estão à sua mercê e, na grande maioria dos casos, tem toda a razão. Chico-esperto. Insensível. Mal-educado. Malcriado. Arrogante. Ordinário. Stanley não é de diplomacias, nem de fornicoquetes. É pão-pão-queijo-queijo. As coisas têm de ser claras, límpidas, iluminadas e preto-no-branco para que ele lhes possa sequer dar uma oportunidade. Stanley odeia tudo o que parece e não é, tudo o que é velado, tudo o que é dissimulado, escondido, distorcido, disfarçado. Para ele a vida não passa por subtileza, jamais. Nem por cedências. Aquilo que quer, ele tem que ter. Aquilo que deseja, pode e deve tornar-se realidade.

Filosofia de Vida: "Now that's how I'm gonna clear the table. Don't you ever talk that way to me. 'Pig,' 'Pollack,' 'disgusting,' 'vulgar,' 'greasy.' Those kind of words have been on your tongue and your sister's tongue just too much around here. What do you think you are? A pair of queens? Now just remember what Huey Long said - that every man's a king - and I'm the King around here, and don't you forget it."

ºlkçlkl





quinta-feira, 19 de janeiro de 2012

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 19

The Serial Killer - Part IX
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Where do you think legends of vampires and werewolves come from?

In the Middle Ages the concept of serial killing didn't exist at all. When people were kidnapped or raped or even killed misteriously, the common belief was immediately linked to religious issues, pagan myths or witchcraft. If the body of a beautiful woman was found lying in some forest ground naked and vandalized, everyone would blame the devil, never her neighbour, unless the neighbour was suspected of having a pact with Lucifer, of course.

In those dark, ignorant ages who could imagine that there could be clever, resourseful but plain human beings who could do such things? Tearing off the flesh of another human being, ripping someone's throat, taking someone's viscera could only be practiced by monsters, supernatural beings, who could not be of this world.

Of course there was one thing, in my opinion, in which the people of the Middle Ages were quite right - serial killers are not of this world. We don't think like other people, we don't act like them, we pretend to, we certainly don't feel like them. Like I said, I am convinced I float in another dimension, above common daily life, where feelings, emotions and thoughts, where goals and drives are very different from the rest of mankind beneath.

In a way we are supernatural beings, because we don't act like the rest of the natural beings. Maybe we are ahead of our time. In a world where only the strongest survive, where can you find anyone stronger than a man or a woman who has no feelings, no compassion, no remorse, no conscience? It's the perfect combination for survival. Feelings weaken, compassion is dangerous. We are, perhaps, the next step in human evolution.

quarta-feira, 18 de janeiro de 2012

MAGIC MOMENTS 197

Tunes for Travelers 3
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No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.
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Take a ride in my machine
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terça-feira, 17 de janeiro de 2012

Macro Secrets 148


,


Embrace your qualities

segunda-feira, 16 de janeiro de 2012

OS PERSONAGENS DE ANDRÓMEDA

SPIDERMAN
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LÇASK








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Curriculum Vitae
Filiação:
Stan Lee e Steve Ditko


Corpo e Alma: Personagem da banda desenhada

Nacionalidade: Americana


Profissão: Estudante e Super herói

Naturalidade: Nova Iorque

Habilitações: Ágil. Rápido. Atlético. Voador. Alpinista. Discreto. Secreto. Tímido. Nova-iorquino de gema. Spiderman esconde um estudante tímido, imberbe, cheio de complexos de inferioridade e sem nenhuma propensão para o atletismo aracnídeo. É, sem dúvida, o mais elegante e leve de todos os super-heróis. O seu alter-ego vive sob a máxima "Com grandes poderes vêm grandes responsabilidades". É este o seu dom e ao mesmo tempo a sua maldição. Spiderman sabe bem que ninguém, nem mesmo um super-herói, está livre de ter de enfrentar o seu lado mais negro.

Filosofia de Vida: Whatever life holds in store for me, I will never forget these words: "With great power comes great responsibility." This is my gift, my curse. Who am I? I'm Spider-man. ºlkçlkl


domingo, 15 de janeiro de 2012

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 18

The Serial Killer - Part VIII
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lfºfladsfOne of the pioneers was Liu Pengli. Actually, he is considered the first ever, at least on record.


He was the third son of the chinese King of Liang, grandson to emperor Wen of Han, of the Han Dinasty, who ruled China successfully for a period of 4 centuries. He was made Prince of Jidong and at twenty nine years of age he was described in history books as being arrogant and cruel, going out on marauding expeditions with tens of slaves or young men who were in hiding from the law, murdering people and seizing their belongings for sheer sport. The number of confirmed victims exceeded 100, and these murders were known across the kingdom, making people afraid of going out of their houses at night.


Eventually the son of one of his victims accused him to the Emperor, and the officials of the court requested that Liu Pengli be executed. However, the emperor could not bear to have his own cousin killed, and Liu Pengli was made a commoner and banished to the county of Shangyong. His sovereignty was abolished, and his land was reclaimed by Emperor Jing.


Of course, this could hardly be considered serial killing as in actual terms. In those days, before Christ had even been born, when civilization had a whole different meaning than it has today, it is much more honest to call the doings of Liu Pengli whims of a spoiled prince who had the power and the money and the lack of scruples to do whatever he felt like.


I would not call this serial killing, although what he did was kill several dozens of innocent people just because he could. But if you want to go solely on the technicality, then he was a serial killer. The name serial killer is a fairly recent adoption from the seventies. Before that, serial killers were called mass murderers. But if you look at history, the world is filled with such murderers who went about their business without ever being condemned of anything. Politicians, military men, rulers of every kind killed large amounts of people in every imaginable way. Liu was just another one of the kind. Compared to him, I am nothing but an apprentice.

sábado, 14 de janeiro de 2012

MAGIC MOMENTS 196

Tunes for Travelers 2
fkdsf
No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.
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Get your kicks on Route 66
lfºds


sexta-feira, 13 de janeiro de 2012

Macro Secrets 147



,mm



Accept Your Flaws

quinta-feira, 12 de janeiro de 2012

OS PERSONAGENS DE ANDRÓMEDA

SMEAGOL
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Curriculum Vitae
Filiação:
J. R. R. Tolkien



Corpo e Alma: Boneco criado a partir do corpo e da voz do actor Andy Serkis


Nacionalidade: Terra Média




Profissão: Hobbit


Naturalidade: Shire


Habilitações: Guloso. Ávido. Ganancioso. Fraco. Invejoso. Ciumento. Possessivo. Ingénuo. Doce. Infantil. Dissimulado. Irresistível. Smeagol quer aquele anel. QUER. Não olha a meios para atingir os seus fins. Mata, rouba, esconde, mente, engana, é capaz de qualquer coisa para ter o seu precioso anel. Se existe alguém sobre quem esse anel exerça um poder absolutamente dominador, é sobre Smeagol. Que se torna Gollum. Gollum tem todas as características de Smeagol, mas não tem remorsos como Smeagol poderia ter. Smeagol morrerá com o seu anel. Ele cairá juntamente com ele e afundar-se-á no fogo, onde apenas podemos imaginar que o seu corpo, a sua mente e os seus sonhos se diluirão, enfim, para sempre, com o ouro brilhante, irresistível, tentador e possessivo do anel que tanto cobiçou.


Filosofia de Vida: "My precious!"


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quarta-feira, 11 de janeiro de 2012

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 17

The Serial Killer - Part VII
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You see, there was a method to my madness, after all. I didn't kill because I wanted to say something, I killed because I wanted to show something. I wanted to show them they weren't perfect. That they weren't sacred. That they could be used, abused, torn apart, deconstructed to make something else, something that would be worth something more valuable. That they were mere instruments, raw materials, the same as plastic, thread, wood or metal. Flesh. Pieces of meat, portions of blood, samples of chemical elements glued together to draw and portray symbols.
For me they had no souls, no minds, no reason to exist. They were objects. I didn't want to be god, although I have to admit that the feeling was overwhelming sometimes. I didn't want to create a new world, or to recreate any kind of fantasies, or even less to send any message through the paintings I chose. I wanted to play. I was like a kid thrown inside a playground filled with his most precious and appetizing materials. I didn't choose my paintings because they had any special meaning to me, I chose them on a whimp, because they looked good, or interesting to me. It was a pure aesthetic choice. Sometimes the only thing that attracted me was the color combination.
Of course, with time, the themes became important. Not because they were in any way related to me, the way I thought or felt, but because I felt the need at least to understand what I was using. If I chose Goya's "Saturn devouring his son", I thought I had at least to know why Saturn had chosen to do that. But it had nothing to do with the possible political, social, pshychological or other interpretations of the work itself. It certainly had nothing to do with the relationship I had with my mother, for instance.
Of course, to them there had to be a reason. I suppose it's natural and instinctive to every human being to find a reason in everything that happens, even in a serial killer's apparent random madness. That is why religion exists. People have a hard time admiting that they could be just the product of chance. Even when they are looking at the clouds in the sky, their instinct drives them to find familiar faces, objects. Everything has to have a reason. I knew better than that. My reason was pure fun. My mind was not a human mind, at least not the mind most humans have.
Maybe they were right in one thing - maybe the randomness of the violence my parents used on me was intricately related to the detachment I learned from a very early age. Maybe if I had been born in another family, I would have been different. I don't know. And I certainly can't imagine being different from what I am. I can't imagine what it's like to have feelings, because I don't have them and I can't recall the short period of my life when I did have them. I have no remorse. I have no conscience. They don't torment me. I like being what I am. I feel like I am floating above the world, in another dimension, somewhere few other humans have surfaced.
There are others like me. And I was aware of that very early. I studied them. In fact, they haunted me sometimes. I wanted to be as good as they were. Ultimately they were responsible for the changes I introduced in my method. The more I studied their work, the more I felt like a kind of fraud. After all, I was just copying things other people had created. I had to start creating my own art.

terça-feira, 10 de janeiro de 2012

MAGIC MOMENTS 195

Tunes for Travelers 1
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Aqui se inaugura um espaço dedicado às melhores canções para viajar. No carro, no comboio, no autocarro, no avião, no barco. Façamo-nos às estradas deste mundo, mas que seja com estilo e energia.


fkdsçlf


I Ride Like The Wind


jklj




segunda-feira, 9 de janeiro de 2012

Macro Secrets 146



,mm



Forgive yourself

domingo, 8 de janeiro de 2012

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 16

The Serial Killer - Part VI
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They had all sorts of theories about my work and myself.
There was a method to my madness, they insisted. Sometimes they would not agree upon it.
I was a frustrated painter, or
I had a domineering mother, or
I had been sexually abused by several people, or
I wanted to send a message to the world, not in a bottle, but in my victims' flesh, or
I was meticulous, obssessive and compulsive, or
I was paranoid, schizophrenic and suffered from hallucinations.
The FBI wrote an extensive possible profile on me, which was frequentely quoted by everybody who had no idea what to make of me. The report said, quote: "White male, most probably in his twenties, with some kind of physical incapacitation or left alone for long periods of time in his childhood. The individual seeks out to dominate others through the enactment of his most profound fantasies, since it is the only area in his life where he was ever able to master some kind of control."
I will not bore you with the rest of the hilarities on the report. Suffice to say that it went on with increasingly more unbelievable nonsense. Bottom line was they had no idea who they were looking for and I was having fun sending them confusing signals with each murder I commited.
This went on for about five years, until at last someone made a breakthrough on the other side. A young enthusiastic investigator noticed a detail that had escaped everybody else's sharp eye - the thread used in the enacted picture of the last victim was the same as the one used in two other victims. The thread was sold by a local company only in that particular state, the one I had lived for a few months prior to the four last crimes. Of course this helped reduce the field of search and restrict a possible opperational area. They got closer and I had to stop. I wasn't paranoid, I was just cautious. They weren't that close, but I wasn't going to risk everything by being greedy. I did nothing for the next three years. But then something happened that made it virtually impossible for me not to kill.

sábado, 7 de janeiro de 2012

OS PERSONAGENS DE ANDRÓMEDA

SARAH CONNOR
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Curriculum Vitae
Filiação:
James Cameron e William Wisher Jr.


Corpo e Alma: Linda Hamilton (the one and only)
Nacionalidade: Americana


Profissão: Empregada de mesa

Naturalidade: Los Angeles

Habilitações: Forte. Resistente. Lutadora. Persistente. Sobrevivente. Inteligente. Protectora. De ideias fixas. Sarah arregaça as mangas e troca literalmente as voltas ao destino que lhe calhou em sorte. Perseguida pelo futuro. Atormentada pelo passado. Amada no presente pelo homem que veio do futuro e que lhe dará o filho que ela tem de proteger para que esse futuro possa acontecer. Mãe. Mãe-coragem. Fugitiva. Mulher de armas, metafóricas e literais. Preparada. Física, se não psicologicamente. Desconfiada. Atenta. Perdida no presente. Achada no futuro.

Filosofia de Vida: "The hardest thing is deciding what I should tell you and what not to. Well, anyway, I've got a while yet before you're old enough to understand the tapes. They're more for me at this point... to help get it all straight. Should I tell you about your father? That's a tough one. Will it change your decision to send him here... knowing? But if you don't send Kyle, you could never be. God, you can go crazy thinking about all this... I suppose I'll tell you... I owe him that. And maybe it'll be enough if you know that in the few hours we had together we loved a lifetime's worth."

ºlkçlklç



quinta-feira, 5 de janeiro de 2012

Macro Secrets 145


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Accept yourself

quarta-feira, 4 de janeiro de 2012

MAGIC MOMENTS 194

CC36 - Cool Covers


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Há músicas intemporais e camaleónicas ou músicos que dão a volta a qualquer coisa?


Ora vejamos:
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Walking in Memphis by Marc Cohn


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Walking in Memphis by Cher


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FIM

terça-feira, 3 de janeiro de 2012

OS PERSONAGENS DE ANDRÓMEDA

SANTIAGO
çºflºa LÇASK





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Curriculum Vitae
Filiação:
Ernest Hemingway


Corpo e Alma: A do livro
Nacionalidade: Espanhola


Profissão: Pescador

Naturalidade: Ilhas Canárias, imigrante em Cuba

Habilitações: Santiago está velho. Velho e cansado. Mas não derrotado. Apenas amaldiçoado, como dizem os seus companheiros. Salao. Santiago não se deixa abater. Como o mar, os seus olhos são azuis profundos, vivos e indestrutíveis. Se o mar fosse uma pessoa, seria Santiago. Corajoso. Orgulhoso. É o seu orgulho que o empurra para a frente, sempre mais para diante, para águas que mais nenhum pescador ousou navegar. Lá encontrará o maior adversário de toda a sua vida. Persistente. Santiago não desiste, nem mesmo quando o seu cansaço o conduz quase ao delírio e o fio que segura o poderoso espadarte lhe arranca pele e carne das mãos. Lutador. Poético. Santiago respeita o seu adversário e desabafa preferir matar o seu irmão às estrelas ou à lua. Os tubarões destroem-lhe o espadarte, mas não a glória. Santiago nunca mais será olhado pelos seus companheiros como salao ou imigrante. Imortal. Manolin crê e será o receptáculo de todos os seus ensinamentos. O mar e ele são um só.

Filosofia de Vida: "A man is never lost at sea."

ºlkçlklç



segunda-feira, 2 de janeiro de 2012

DDT - Deambulações DeMentes Teóricas 15

The Serial Killer - Part V
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Before I go on to explain my glorious days as one of the 10 most wanted men alive, let me go back a few years in my life. I was in the prime of my twenties. I was starting to develop a quite unique method of killing and displaying my victims. If you ask me for a reason to do this, I can only answer you that it was all part of the bigger plan. My work was art. Do you ask Picasso why he painted his blue period? Or Rodin why he had such an obssession for hands? Try asking Michelangelo why on earth he wanted to spend two years tearing his back apart to paint a ceiling few men in his time would have the privilege to see. You do not ask an artist why he does what he does or why he does it in that specific way. He may try to specify certain details of his technique, but he will never be able to explain the full measure of his craft or his purposes. Pollock put it this way: "When I'm painting, I'm not aware of what I'm doing. It's only after a get acquainted period that I see what I've been about. I've no fears about making changes for the painting has a life of its own." He also said that you always paint who you are.
My killings are me. And I am my killings. Everything about them, every single detail has a reason, an origin, a goal, but if you ask me what it is I won't be able to explain it. That's why the so called forensic experts and phsycologists amuse me imensely. Everything they say is pure crap. They build up these theoretical cathedrals of embelished mumbo-jumbo filled with difficult technical terms to say nothing but rubbish. They have no idea what they're talking about. And the worst thing is that they are convinced they reached some kind of understanding of how someone like me functions and feels.
I started by recreating works of art. That is what I did with my victims. I killed them in the exact same way the real subject of that particular work of art died, and then I presented them to the world as they were most famously portrayed. I shall illustrate with an example. Caravaggio's "Salome with the Head of John the Baptist". As you know, Salome asked her stepfather, the king Herod Antipas, to behead John and present it, the head, in a charger. And that is precisely what I did with the bum I found. With time I added complexity to the operation. The victim had to be somehow related with the character depicted. Bums would not do anymore. I also ventured from figurative into the slippery but exciting field of abstract art. This would challenge my invention skills. How do you portray a "Rythm of Autumn" with a human body?
Of course this attracted attention. Lots of it. Newspapers started calling me the Michelangelo of Death. The police and the experts generated hundreds of pages of quite interesting literature on the whys and the hows and the whos of my crimes. There was a method but at the same time there was no possibility of anticipating my moves, since no one knew what work of art I would be depicting next, and hence no one could predict the kind of victims I would choose. And then suddenly I made it all a little bit more complicated. When they were coming closer, I stopped and changed my M.O. I had planned it a long time ago, but now I was finally prepared to fly alone. I started creating my own works of art. The depiction period ended. And things got considerably more complicated for my persecutors.

domingo, 1 de janeiro de 2012

Macro Secrets 144


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To brand new beginnings