<?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-3197415274167829220</id><updated>2011-08-27T04:58:15.005-07:00</updated><category term='Política Internacional'/><category term='Ecologia'/><category term='Cinema'/><category term='Organizações Internacionais'/><category term='Sociedade'/><category term='English'/><category term='Literatura'/><category term='Brasil'/><category term='Resenha'/><category term='FAO'/><category term='Español'/><category term='Geografia da população'/><category term='Energia'/><category term='Literatura Medieval'/><category term='Alemão'/><category term='Français'/><category term='Relações internacionais'/><category term='Direito Internacional'/><category term='Teoria da Literatura'/><category term='História'/><category term='Geografia Agrícola'/><category term='Poemas'/><category term='Critica da vida'/><category term='Poesia Francesa Medieval'/><category term='Economia'/><category term='Ho Chi Minh'/><category term='MDGs'/><title type='text'>ESTUDANDO PARA A DIPLOMACIA</title><subtitle type='html'>E é preciso ter prazer ao estudar!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-1975742168071049207</id><published>2011-08-26T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T13:39:53.364-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Français'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Critica da vida'/><title type='text'>Alphonse Daudet escorrega</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3lcZknu1nXo/TlgEfdeKkXI/AAAAAAAAAD4/jBE2JFf-11I/s1600/240px-Alphonse_Daudet_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 196px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3lcZknu1nXo/TlgEfdeKkXI/AAAAAAAAAD4/jBE2JFf-11I/s200/240px-Alphonse_Daudet_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645267071442522482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Somos todos vítimas de nosso tempo e os tempos (&lt;i&gt;Le Temps, Notre Époque)&lt;/i&gt; também vitimaram Alphonse Daudet. (Ele não era filho da França como Borges não o era da Argentina nem você do Brasil nem ninguém de parte nenhuma. Qualquer conjunto de pessoas que não se veja dia a dia é um conjunto artificial, diz o professor Demétrio Magnoli (&lt;i&gt;O Corpo da Pátria!&lt;/i&gt;) e está certo.) Alphonse nasceu sem escolher – ninguém escolhe (&lt;i&gt;on ne choisit pas&lt;/i&gt;) – e estava vivo num pedaço de mundo que se chamou França num pedaço de tempo que se denominou após a guerra Franco-Prussiana (&lt;i&gt;Paris tomada, o patético Napoleão III numa gaiola). &lt;/i&gt;O ano, 1871.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;A guerra revirou o mundo. A França, antes monarquia, tornou-se uma república de generais vencidos que precisavam justificar por que eles detinham o poder, mesmo sendo vencidos. Tiveram uma ideia (quem manda sempre tem uma ideia): a derrota seria orgulho. Nobilitado como tragédia, o fato de a França haver com fragor perdido a guerra para a Prússia seria a base para uma reconstrução nacional, e para uma vingança.  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Os escritores foram recrutados. (Não só eles: compositores fizeram monstruosidades como &lt;i&gt;Le Régiment du Sambre et Meuse&lt;/i&gt;, uma patética música sobre um regimento que é morto inteiro numa batalha – aliás, o último não é morto, se suicida).  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Já escrevera as &lt;i&gt;Cartas do meu Moinho&lt;/i&gt;, uma coletânea de contos que prenuncia, se não o estilo, a orientação temática dos romancistas nordestinos das anos 1930. &lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;É reputado como o primeiro regionalista. O livro começa com o arrendamento de um moinho de trigo no sul da França, a chamada região do Meio-Dia (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;Midi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;). Seguem-se histórias de pescadores do mar da Córsega, moleiros, gente pequena que vive do arrendamento de braças de terra. Desse refúgio Alphonse Daudet arrancou-se para escrever patriotismos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;O pior deles talvez tenha sido um crime de letras chamado &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;La Dernière Classe &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;(a última aula), sobre um menino que adentra a última aula de francês de sua cidadezinha na Alsácia-Lorena. (Esta tinha sido perdida para a Prússia, já então Alemanha). Está tudo lá – o velho e bom professor, que, apesar disso, dá pancadas de régua nos alunos; os velhos e bons anciãos da aldeia; o velho e preguiçoso aluno que se arrepende de não haver estudado; a velha e boa pátria; o velho e mau inimigo). O governo inimigo proibira as aulas de francês. O professor alemão chegaria no dia seguinte. Por isso é a última aula – uma reprovação aos maus patriotas que deixaram a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;tragédia &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;acontecer. E termina com o choro do professor -  em um tempo que homens chorando era motivo de guilhotina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;Essa doce monstruosidade se encontra no lugar número cinquenta e nove dos livros mais apreciados do site &lt;a href="http://www.litteratureaudio.com/"&gt;http://www.litteratureaudio.com&lt;/a&gt; . Há uma antiga lenda nos oásis do Magrebe árabe de que o mundo têm dois gênios: um mau e zombeteiro e outro bom e chorão. Diante desse exibicionismo patriótico, creio que um dos gênios zomba e o outro chora. Isso, é claro, se a lenda realmente existir. Mas não, creio que não exista. Quanto a Alphonse Daudet, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;tem toda a eternidade para arrepender-se&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none"&gt;, como diria uma canção ruim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-1975742168071049207?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/1975742168071049207/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/08/alphonse-daudet-escorrega.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1975742168071049207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1975742168071049207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/08/alphonse-daudet-escorrega.html' title='Alphonse Daudet escorrega'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3lcZknu1nXo/TlgEfdeKkXI/AAAAAAAAAD4/jBE2JFf-11I/s72-c/240px-Alphonse_Daudet_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-8935907463571785854</id><published>2011-08-08T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T17:51:19.074-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia Francesa Medieval'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teoria da Literatura'/><title type='text'>O primeiro verso</title><content type='html'>  &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Farei um verso sobre o puro nada&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal"&gt; (“Farai un vers de dreit nien”) foi a primeira linha da literatura do Ocidente, escrita lá pelas redondezas do ano 1100. Antes havia o mundo clássico e seus Édipos arrependidos e suas guerras de Tróia. Mas a crise dos anos 500 a 800 fora mais que suficiente para quase passar uma borracha no que existia.  As estradas e a cultura tinham sido engolidas pelas selvas e pela insegurança, e a sociedade mal podia manter-se viva com as parcas colheitas e as guerras. A alfabetização se tornou rara como diamantes e o latim se foi perdendo. Com algum exagero mas não muito pode-se dizer que a literatura se perdera. Era preciso fundar outra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal"&gt;Esse verso refundador explica muito do que aconteceu pelos seguintes novecentos anos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;Um verso sobre o puro nada&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal"&gt; – uma literatura que se sustenta por si mesma, não por histórias que venha a contar.  &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Que também não tenha por objeto a sustentação de valores morais, os quais necessariamente preenchem o mundo – ela fala sobre o nada. Nem o nada é objeto – é o puro nada, o nada-nada. Uma literatura decepcionada, desiludida, ou de um de um poeta desiludido. E ao mesmo tempo re-iludido pelo fascínio da arte. Uma literatura que não visa a representação ou à duplicação do que existe. E que seja pessoal – farei um verso – há um ponto de vista – não é um povo que fala, é o poeta. E quem é esse poeta?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-8935907463571785854?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/8935907463571785854/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-primeiro-verso.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8935907463571785854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8935907463571785854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-primeiro-verso.html' title='O primeiro verso'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-5535933247276552902</id><published>2011-05-17T17:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T17:46:35.073-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><title type='text'>Textos chicos - ralentizar la oposición</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Tkr_6-96m5s/TdMWxtlH0JI/AAAAAAAAADs/kVfGuMHY-ao/s1600/rapoport.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 146px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Tkr_6-96m5s/TdMWxtlH0JI/AAAAAAAAADs/kVfGuMHY-ao/s200/rapoport.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607851004311097490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman,serif;"&gt;En  un interesante artículo en el periódico Buenos Aires Económico, Mario  Rapoport nos informa sobre los negocios financieros inescrupulosos que  han creado el crac de 1929 y también la crisis actual. Lo que sirve para  nos alertar sobre los peligros del naciente capitalismo. Para el autor,  Keybes escribió su &lt;i&gt;Teoría &lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal;"&gt;General,  en donde sostenía que el capitalismo no puede vivir sin la masiva  intervención del Estado. La énfasis en el reparto de los ingresos es  obviamente el rasgo más importante de la poderosa obra de Marx. Otro de  los hallazgos del autor, y que parece tomar por sorpresa a los epígonos  del casi ya perimido consenso neoliberal, es la existencia de la  explotación en si misma. La necesidad de ralentizar el dominio de ideas  falsamente matemáticas es lo el autor más enfatiza, al fin y al cabo.&lt;/span&gt;&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/3197415274167829220-5535933247276552902?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/5535933247276552902/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/05/textos-chicos-ralentizar-la-oposicion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5535933247276552902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5535933247276552902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/05/textos-chicos-ralentizar-la-oposicion.html' title='Textos chicos - ralentizar la oposición'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Tkr_6-96m5s/TdMWxtlH0JI/AAAAAAAAADs/kVfGuMHY-ao/s72-c/rapoport.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3254386186579709853</id><published>2011-02-09T18:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T18:56:35.736-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><title type='text'>Fragmentos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P3KJaWUyz5Q/TVNTwa2lvgI/AAAAAAAAADc/tgU3g2Yulfs/s1600/becket.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P3KJaWUyz5Q/TVNTwa2lvgI/AAAAAAAAADc/tgU3g2Yulfs/s200/becket.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571889255294549506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cuando la campesina preguntó a Sir Thomas Beckett si debería desvestirse, oyóse una carcajada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold;"&gt; Y ni veinte y cuatro años después, bajo el cuchillo del carrasco, San Thomas Beckett supo si aquello fuera del Cielo o del Infierno.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0in; border-width: medium medium 1pt; border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color rgb(0, 0, 0); padding: 0in 0in 0.03in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3254386186579709853?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3254386186579709853/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/02/fragmentos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3254386186579709853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3254386186579709853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/02/fragmentos.html' title='Fragmentos'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P3KJaWUyz5Q/TVNTwa2lvgI/AAAAAAAAADc/tgU3g2Yulfs/s72-c/becket.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-9195080066403721173</id><published>2011-01-29T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T11:55:49.341-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><title type='text'>Un fugitivo inverosímil</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TURwl8Tp1OI/AAAAAAAAADQ/v-wicFpe9So/s1600/ilha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TURwl8Tp1OI/AAAAAAAAADQ/v-wicFpe9So/s200/ilha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567698836482807010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt; Un inverosímil fugitivo de la justicia en una isla aún más inverosímil. Ese antiguo prisionero sin nombre se comporta más como filósofo. En él no queda nada de la obsesión consigo mismo, típica de los niños y de los escapados de la policía.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt; .&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt; Vaguea por la isla que nada tiene sino un museo y una pileta de natación. Y se enamora de una chica  llamada Faustine, que literalmente no lo ve.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt; .&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt; Este es el resumen del argumento de “La Invención de Morel”, del escritor porteño Adolfo Bioy Casares.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt; En el prólogo, Borges critica a los rusos que, segundo él, nos hicieran creer en todo, incluso en asesinos de bon corazón, una referencia directa a Raskolnikov. Por lo tanto, yo creo, su amigo ha elaborado esa trama tan irreal que terminamos por creerla.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"&gt; Fuente: Bioy Casares, &lt;i&gt;La Invención de Morel&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-9195080066403721173?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/9195080066403721173/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/01/un-fugitivo-inverosimil.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/9195080066403721173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/9195080066403721173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2011/01/un-fugitivo-inverosimil.html' title='Un fugitivo inverosímil'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TURwl8Tp1OI/AAAAAAAAADQ/v-wicFpe9So/s72-c/ilha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-2696510075748855621</id><published>2010-11-30T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T16:48:00.404-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Geografia da população'/><title type='text'>Censo 2010: população do Brasil é de 190.732.694 pessoas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TPRMuRkB8XI/AAAAAAAAADE/iIQjRl-rQMo/s1600/population.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 139px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TPRMuRkB8XI/AAAAAAAAADE/iIQjRl-rQMo/s200/population.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545141399072141682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Tabela normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0cm;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Após cerca de quatro meses de trabalho de coleta e supervisão, durante os quais trabalharam 230 mil pessoas, sendo 191 mil recenseadores, o resultado do Censo 2010 indica 190.732.694 pessoas para a população brasileira em 1º de agosto, data de referência. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Droga, esperava algo como 188 milhões. Buá.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Em comparação com o Censo 2000, ocorreu um aumento de 20.933.524 pessoas. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Deus, isso é um Chile inteirinho. Mais o Uruguai de contrapeso.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Esse número demonstra que o crescimento da população brasileira no período foi de 12,3%, inferior ao observado na década anterior (15,6% entre 1991 e 2000).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ainda assim muito.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;O Censo 2010 mostra também que a população é mais urbanizada que há 10 anos: em 2000, 81% dos brasileiros viviam em áreas urbanas, agora são 84%.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sem grande diferença; mas até as pedras sabem que a população urbana brasileira é superdimensionada.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;A região Sudeste segue sendo a região mais populosa do Brasil, com 80.353.724 pessoas. Entre 2000 e 2010, perderam participação as regiões Sudeste (de 42,8% para 42,1%), Nordeste (de 28,2% para 27,8%) e Sul (de 14,8% para 14,4%). Por outro lado, aumentaram seus percentuais de população brasileira as regiões Norte (de 7,6% para 8,3%) e Centro-Oeste (de 6,9% para 7,4%).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Entre as unidades da federação, São Paulo lidera com 41.252.160 pessoas. Por outro lado, Roraima é o estado menos populoso, com 451.227 pessoas. Houve mudanças no ranking dos maiores municípios do país, com Brasília (de 6º para 4º) e Manaus (de 9º para 7º) ganhando posições. Por outro lado, Belo Horizonte (de 4º para 6º), Curitiba (de 7º para 8º) e Recife (8º para 9º) perderam posições.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Será a Marcha para o Oeste, do Getúlio, finalmente acontecendo??&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Os resultados mostram que existem 95,9 homens para cada 100 mulheres, ou seja existem mais 3,9 milhões de mulheres a mais que homens no Brasil. Em 2000, para cada 100 mulheres, havia 96,9 homens. A população brasileira é composta por 97.342.162 mulheres e 93.390.532 homens.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Egoisticamente&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;falando, essa estatística não me interessa. Já tenho namorada, eheh.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fonte:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;http://www.ibge.gov.br/home/presidencia/noticias/noticia_visualiza.php?id_noticia=1766&amp;amp;id_pagina=1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-2696510075748855621?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/2696510075748855621/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/11/censo-2010-populacao-do-brasil-e-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2696510075748855621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2696510075748855621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/11/censo-2010-populacao-do-brasil-e-de.html' title='Censo 2010: população do Brasil é de 190.732.694 pessoas'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TPRMuRkB8XI/AAAAAAAAADE/iIQjRl-rQMo/s72-c/population.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-4471756144800761508</id><published>2010-11-29T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T16:07:32.491-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política Internacional'/><title type='text'>E o Zelaya estava certo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TPQ_6YwRKlI/AAAAAAAAAC8/xoTH76Qljyo/s1600/Manuel-Zelaya3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 153px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TPQ_6YwRKlI/AAAAAAAAAC8/xoTH76Qljyo/s200/Manuel-Zelaya3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545127313509788242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lembra do Zelaya, aquele chato de chapéu brega de caubói que dizia ser vítima de um golpe, e os EUA e os conservadores do mundo diziam que era mentira??&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Era verdade.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O escândalo Wikileaks revelou um telegrama da embaixada americana afirmando que Zelay foi vítima de um golpe, e os golpistas eram falaciosos. Ver íntegra em:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;http://www.quotha.net/node/1398&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Arguments of the Coup Defenders&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -------------------------------&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. (SBU) Defenders of the June 28 coup have offered some combination  of the following, often ambiguous, arguments to assert it's legality:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Zelaya had broken the law (alleged but not proven);&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Zelaya resigned (a clear fabrication);&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Zelaya intended to extend his term in office (supposition);&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Had he been allowed to proceed with his June 28 constitutional  reform opinion poll, Zelaya would have dissolved Congress the following  day and convened a constituent assembly (supposition);&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Zelaya had to be removed from the country to prevent a bloodbath;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Congress "unanimously" (or in some versions by a 123-5 vote)  deposed Zelaya; (after the fact and under the cloak of secrecy); and&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Zelaya "automatically" ceased to be president the moment he  suggested modifying the constitutional prohibition on presidential  reelection.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. (C) In our view, none of the above arguments has any substantive  validity under the Honduran constitution. Some are outright false.  Others are mere supposition or ex-post rationalizations of a patently  illegal act. Essentially:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- the military had no authority to remove Zelaya from the country;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Congress has no constitutional authority to remove a Honduran president;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Congress and the judiciary removed Zelaya on the basis of a hasty, ad-hoc, extralegal, secret, 48-hour process;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- the purported "resignation" letter was a fabrication and was not even the basis for Congress's action of June 28; and&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-- Zelaya's arrest and forced removal from the country violated  multiple constitutional guarantees, including the prohibition on  expatriation, presumption of innocence and right to due process.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----------------&lt;/span&gt;--------------------------&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-4471756144800761508?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/4471756144800761508/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/11/e-o-zelaya-estava-certo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4471756144800761508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4471756144800761508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/11/e-o-zelaya-estava-certo.html' title='E o Zelaya estava certo...'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TPQ_6YwRKlI/AAAAAAAAAC8/xoTH76Qljyo/s72-c/Manuel-Zelaya3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-4414082515845663382</id><published>2010-11-20T04:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T04:38:27.490-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política Internacional'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Economia'/><title type='text'>O ICSID</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TOfA8fBi2oI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Fv5zSzgHbGU/s1600/icsid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 90px; height: 94px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TOfA8fBi2oI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Fv5zSzgHbGU/s200/icsid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541610011855346306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Tabela normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0cm;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18pt; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;O Ex-presidente da simpática e vizinha República Oriental do Uruguay señor Tabaré Ramón Vazquez houve por bem dar um pulinho na IV sessão da Conferência da convenção-quadro para o controle do tabaco, que aconteceu em Punta del Este de 15 a 20 de novembro de 2010. E talvez inebriado pelo ar puro sem fumo disse que “não aconteceria nada” se o Uruguai não cumprisse o laudo do tribunal de arbitragem do ICSID&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18pt; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Essa feia sigla se refere ao International Centre for Settlement of Investment Disputes – um setor do Banco Mundial que tem como função básica dizer que governos de países pobres devem muito, muito dinheiro a empresas ricas de países idem – brincadeirinha. Nasceu nos anos 60 e realmente os países que ganharam causas se contam nos dedos da mão. Trata-se de um tribunal de arbitragem sobre divergências entre empresas e países.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18pt; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;O Brasil por acaso ou sabedoria nunca aderiu a tal coisa. O Uruguai sim, sabem Deus e Obdulio Varela o porquê. E como sói acontecer, a Phillip Morris, essa simpática fornecedora desse produto tão saudável que é o cigarro está processando o governo do Uruguai.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18pt; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;E o ex-presidente falou. E falou errado. Está lá no art. 53 da Convenção de Washington, que criou o grupo de quase-juizes: os laudos são o-bri-ga-tó-rios. E não devem ser objeto de nenhum apelo. Não cumpri-los é portanto ilícito internacional. O que é algo grande quando se é pequeno.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18pt; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="ES"&gt;Portanto el señor ex-presidente se equivoca. &lt;/span&gt;Passar-se-á muito sim, se o país não cumprir um laudo desfavorável, coisa que este blog não espera – entre os iogurtes da Conaprole e a fumaça da Morris, adivinha com quem eu fico??&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18pt;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.elpais.com.uy/101116/pnacio-529071/nacional/vazquez-no-pasa-nada-si-uruguay-no-acata-fallo-de-tribunal-de-arbitraje"&gt;http://www.elpais.com.uy/101116/pnacio-529071/nacional/vazquez-no-pasa-nada-si-uruguay-no-acata-fallo-de-tribunal-de-arbitraje&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18pt;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://icsid.worldbank.org/ICSID/StaticFiles/basicdoc/CRR_English-final.pdf"&gt;http://icsid.worldbank.org/ICSID/StaticFiles/basicdoc/CRR_English-final.pdf&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-4414082515845663382?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/4414082515845663382/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/11/o-icsid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4414082515845663382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4414082515845663382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/11/o-icsid.html' title='O ICSID'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TOfA8fBi2oI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Fv5zSzgHbGU/s72-c/icsid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-1736994922578208181</id><published>2010-11-08T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T17:19:16.026-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política Internacional'/><title type='text'>Dilmologia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TNihX8zbmII/AAAAAAAAACs/U-yXPFL33t4/s1600/Dilma_Rousseff.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TNihX8zbmII/AAAAAAAAACs/U-yXPFL33t4/s200/Dilma_Rousseff.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537353174682933378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Tabela normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0cm;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Falando sobre a reunião do G20, ela falou sobre o perigo de uma corrida dos países, cada um por si, cada um querendo desvalorizar mais sua moeda. Disse: "A última vez que houve isso, deu no que deu: a Segunda Guerra Mundial." (http://tinyurl.com/298uv7u)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pequenas frases, grandes significados. Com essa pouco mais que dúzia de palavras podemos fazer um exercício de dilmologia. A presidente eleita revelou sua concepção de mundo:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;a)&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;keynesiana: o mundo como caos, a ser domado pela influência estabilizadora do Estado;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -18pt; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;b)&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;marxista: os acontecimentos políticos como resultado de forças econômicas. A Guerra não ocorreu pelo poder hipnótico de um maluco de bigodinho, mas por cédulas, moedas e produção metalúrgica.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O uso da boca faz o cachimbo torto e a presidente não nega suas raízes intelectuais. E podemos acrescentar uma terceira característica: ela aham é muito mais culta que o atual presidente. Ele nunca diria algo assim.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Abraços.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-1736994922578208181?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/1736994922578208181/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/11/dilmologia.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1736994922578208181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1736994922578208181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/11/dilmologia.html' title='Dilmologia'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TNihX8zbmII/AAAAAAAAACs/U-yXPFL33t4/s72-c/Dilma_Rousseff.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-8342488327439201622</id><published>2010-10-22T05:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T05:36:54.391-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política Internacional'/><title type='text'>SERRA SERIA UM DESASTRE PARA A POLÍTICA EXTERNA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TMGFTf-OfVI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/gGJ0MoR7MfQ/s1600/brasileiros_moniz_bandeira.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TMGFTf-OfVI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/gGJ0MoR7MfQ/s200/brasileiros_moniz_bandeira.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530848387434184018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;O professor Luiz Alberto Moniz Bandeira, que vive na Alemanha, afirma:  “Serra seria um desastre para a política externa” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Leia íntegra da entrevista em: http://www.midiaindependente.org/pt/red/2010/10/479338.shtml&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;O que mudaria, na política externa do Brasil, se Serra fosse eleito presidente?  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;José Serra nunca teve nem tem a menor sensibilidade para a política internacional. Seria um desastre para a política exterior do Brasil e prejudicaria seu comércio com os países em desenvolvimento, sobretudo da América do Sul. Ele já deu as declarações, as mais absurdas, atacando a Argentina, a Bolívia, a Venezuela e outros países. Em manteria de submissão às diretrizes políticas dos Estados Unidos, o governo de José Serra seria muito pior, mil vezes pior, do que o do presidente Fernando Henrique Cardoso. E a mudança na política externa do Brasil teria graves implicações para a política de defesa nacional.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;O que mudaria, na política externa do Brasil, se Dilma confirmar sua vitória no segundo turno?  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho a menor dúvida de que Dilma Roussef dará continuidade à política exterior do presidente Lula, se vencer, o que espero e desejo, no segundo turno. Ela decerto continuará tratando de promover a união da América do Sul, não apenas como um bloco econômico, cujo epicentro é o Mercosul, mas como um espaço geopolítico, capaz de alcançar melhor inserção internacional, competindo com outras grandes massas geográficas, demográficas e econômicas, tais como China, Estados Unidos, Rússia e Índia.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-8342488327439201622?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/8342488327439201622/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/serra-seria-um-desastre-para-politica.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8342488327439201622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8342488327439201622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/serra-seria-um-desastre-para-politica.html' title='SERRA SERIA UM DESASTRE PARA A POLÍTICA EXTERNA'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TMGFTf-OfVI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/gGJ0MoR7MfQ/s72-c/brasileiros_moniz_bandeira.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3606299587604189345</id><published>2010-10-15T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T05:17:32.099-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Direito Internacional'/><title type='text'>Tratado de Westfalia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TLhGKDcbdQI/AAAAAAAAACk/bbYJ9aWuM2c/s1600/350px-Europe_map_1648.PNG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 145px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TLhGKDcbdQI/AAAAAAAAACk/bbYJ9aWuM2c/s200/350px-Europe_map_1648.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528245681134466306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold;" lang="es-ES"&gt; El Derecho Internacional Público resultó de la superación del catolicismo como fuerza política. En Europa, por supuesto. Antes del Tratado de Westfalia, firmado el veinte y cuatro de octubre de 1648, el mundo no era “un paraje triste y atroz”, como diría una vieja milonga, pero se puede decir que era más organizado, al menos formalmente. Primero, no se trataba del mundo sino de Europa. Y la paz que venía de una sociedad encabezada por el plenipotenciario de Dios entre los hombres, el Papa, era más teórica que efectivamente existente.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold;" lang="es-ES"&gt; .&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold;" lang="es-ES"&gt; La pierda de poder del catolicismo fue entonces tan significativa que se creó la idea de un mundo no jerarquizado sino casi caótico, pero mesmo así haciendo esfuerzos en el sentido de mantener la paz. Surgió la idea de soberanía – de poderes actuando sobre un territorio determinado, sobre una cierta población, y iguales entre sí.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3606299587604189345?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3606299587604189345/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/tratado-de-westfalia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3606299587604189345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3606299587604189345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/tratado-de-westfalia.html' title='Tratado de Westfalia'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TLhGKDcbdQI/AAAAAAAAACk/bbYJ9aWuM2c/s72-c/350px-Europe_map_1648.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-673358594948014083</id><published>2010-10-14T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T05:19:32.282-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Direito Internacional'/><title type='text'>Refugiados</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TLfAFn2aP4I/AAAAAAAAACc/eRrAQGaX0Kc/s1600/acnur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TLfAFn2aP4I/AAAAAAAAACc/eRrAQGaX0Kc/s200/acnur.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5528098270449647490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" lang="es-ES"&gt;La construcción del derecho de los refugiados empezó con las crisis humanitarias del siglo XX. Interesante observar que cada avanzo de ese derecho ha sido impulsado por una crisis específica. La Revolución rusa ha ocasionado el surgimiento de la cuestión, y la respuesta fueran los muchos acuerdos internacionales en los años veinte y treinta, todos, sin embargo, puntuales.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" lang="es-ES"&gt;La cuestión se hizo general tras la Segunda Guerra. Multitudes de refugiados se ubicaban en países europeos. El resultado fue la Convención para los Refugiados de 1951, pionera, pero con una gran limitación: ella sólo consideraba refugiados a los europeos, y que se hallaban en esa condición antes del primer de enero de 1951. Esas limitaciones fueran superadas cuando del Protocolo de 1967, que estableció que los refugiados podrían ser personas de cualquier tempo y lugar.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" lang="es-ES"&gt;Latinoamérica es pionera en esa cuestión. La confusa situación da América Central y los esfuerzos conciliadores del Grupo de Contadora impulsaran la signatura del protocolo de Cartagena de las Indias en 1984, que bajo algunos aspectos es más amplio que la convención de 1951.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" lang="es-ES"&gt;.Brasil también afirmó su liderazgo al promulgar la ley de refugiados de 1997 y en consecuencia crear al CONARE.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-673358594948014083?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/673358594948014083/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/refugiados.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/673358594948014083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/673358594948014083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/refugiados.html' title='Refugiados'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TLfAFn2aP4I/AAAAAAAAACc/eRrAQGaX0Kc/s72-c/acnur.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-2991384475879479821</id><published>2010-10-11T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T18:15:00.345-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Direito Internacional'/><title type='text'>Deportación, expulsión y extradición - I/III</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TLJlbAWSSVI/AAAAAAAAACU/QuzhH_0qpHs/s1600/mundo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TLJlbAWSSVI/AAAAAAAAACU/QuzhH_0qpHs/s200/mundo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526591207361366354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;Esas son las tres formas de exclusión obligatoria de extranjero del territorio nacional.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;La deportación no es acto penal sino administrativo. Se trata de una manera de exclusión debida a la entrada o a la permanencia irregular de extranjero. Generalmente ocurre pela violación, por parte del extranjero, de los reglamentos de admisión, por ejemplo, el ingreso sin solicitar permiso, o el sobrepaso de la permanencia autorizada, o aún cuando el deportando trabaja mientras su visa es apenas de turista y le prohíbe el trabajo en el país.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;La autoridad administrativa concede un plazo para que el deportando se retire voluntariamente del territorio nacional. Cuando eso no ocurre, la autoridad deporta al extranjero para el país de origen. Las despensas de transporte generalmente se dan por cuenta del país que deporta.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;En el caso del rechazo (“negativa de entrada”), los dispendios de transporte serán a cuenta de la empresa transportadora, pues la misma es la responsable por la conferencia de la documentación del viajante.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;Hay dos prohibiciones a la acción del Estado: las autoridades no pueden deportar cuando:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;  eso constituye una forma velada de extradición no admitida por las  leyes – por ejemplo, la extradición de persona condenada a pena  de menos de un ano de reclusión.;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: normal;"&gt;  y  en el caso de extradición en masa.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-2991384475879479821?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/2991384475879479821/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/deportacion-expulsion-y-extradicion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2991384475879479821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2991384475879479821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/deportacion-expulsion-y-extradicion.html' title='Deportación, expulsión y extradición - I/III'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TLJlbAWSSVI/AAAAAAAAACU/QuzhH_0qpHs/s72-c/mundo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-332607178529020342</id><published>2010-10-10T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T19:54:00.495-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><title type='text'>Mujeres, las perdedoras</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TK_Zq1bZRmI/AAAAAAAAACM/qWyOgj1S9PM/s1600/a-urna-eletronica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TK_Zq1bZRmI/AAAAAAAAACM/qWyOgj1S9PM/s200/a-urna-eletronica.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525874597726602850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Nadie sabe los resultados de las elecciones brasileñas, pero toda la gente conoce las gran perdedoras: las mujeres.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;En un país abrumado por problemas de toda orden – la desindustrialización, la concurrencia china, los desequilibrios del Mercosur, la desigualdad, la privatización de espacios públicos,la alta tasa de mortalidad infantil, el no aprovechamiento de las potencialidades de Amazonia  - el gran tema electoral es el aborto. No me admiraría si la candidata Dilma estuviera muy molesta – eso es un tema secundario, tal vez terciario. La candidata, hace mucho tiempo dice algunas palabras sobre el sufrimiento de las mujeres que abortan, en una cierta reunión. Eso ha sido suficiente para hacer olvidar todo el programa de gobierno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Y peor, las mujeres no poseen el menor poder de movilización. La simpatía o las declaraciones de la candidata no llevaran ningún voto a ella. Al contrario, le sacaron muchos. Puede ser que ella sea la próxima presidenta pese a sus declaraciones, no por causa de ellas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Al fin y al cabo, las mujeres serán las gran perdedoras – Dilma ciertamente se ha arrepentido de sus declaraciones. Y candidatos futuros huirán de cualquier gesto de aproximación a el movimiento de las mujeres. Al contrario, no perderán su oportunidad de mostrarse buenos religiosos y de criticar a esas perdidas y maculadas. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Caras mujeres, nadie les da importancia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Ni ustedes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-332607178529020342?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/332607178529020342/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/mujeres-las-perdedoras.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/332607178529020342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/332607178529020342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/mujeres-las-perdedoras.html' title='Mujeres, las perdedoras'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TK_Zq1bZRmI/AAAAAAAAACM/qWyOgj1S9PM/s72-c/a-urna-eletronica.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-8390484541840890832</id><published>2010-10-09T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T19:17:00.443-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><title type='text'>Un mensaje muy raro de un presidente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TK_Q4ha8K6I/AAAAAAAAACE/5DEK5yRe944/s1600/jose-mujica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 138px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TK_Q4ha8K6I/AAAAAAAAACE/5DEK5yRe944/s200/jose-mujica.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525864937269504930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;El presidente uruguayo José Mujica nos sorprendió de nuevo. Luego haber salido de hospital, habló ayer en sus audición rutinera en una radio,  y su tema fue mucho diverso de los temas habituales de jefes de Estado. El viejo presidente no pidió votos para correligionarios ni de posibles buenos resultados de la economía, sino de vida, casi de filosofía.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Para él, nuestra economía se basa en un mecanismo circular de estímulos – el consumo tironea a la producción, que por su vez necesita de un consumo siempre creciente. La voluntad de tener supera en mucho la capacidad de tener. &lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Y pasamos nuestras cortas vidas – añade melancólicamente el presidente – a trabajar más para consumir en exceso. Y el trabajo muy raramente tiene que ver con felicidad. “El consumismo coarta la libertad del individuo”, concluye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Seguramente un mensaje muy raro, desde que venida de un jefe de Estado. Esos hombres son tan satisfechos con su suceso que para ellos no hay problemas existenciales. No es lo &lt;/span&gt;que ocurre con Mujica – la vida cotidiana existe par él – y sus problemas también.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-8390484541840890832?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/8390484541840890832/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/un-mensaje-muy-raro-de-un-presidente.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8390484541840890832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8390484541840890832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/un-mensaje-muy-raro-de-un-presidente.html' title='Un mensaje muy raro de un presidente'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TK_Q4ha8K6I/AAAAAAAAACE/5DEK5yRe944/s72-c/jose-mujica.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-7886272596375308627</id><published>2010-10-08T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T19:16:56.293-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><title type='text'>Sueño</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TK_Qdiv1xhI/AAAAAAAAAB8/TA66V_1TF3c/s1600/marinasilva03_06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TK_Qdiv1xhI/AAAAAAAAAB8/TA66V_1TF3c/s200/marinasilva03_06.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525864473769133586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Los periódicos digitales informan que el Partido Verde está más cercano de un acuerdo con la candidatura Dilma. Y el mejor: esa negociación se basa en ideas, no en empleos. Marina Silva, la antigua candidata a la presidencia por el partido Verde, requiere la manutención del código forestal, amenazado por la avaricia de los terratenientes. Esa noticia semeja un sueño: candidatos negociando en torno de ideas para el bien comun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span&gt;¿&lt;/span&gt;Será el Paraíso?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-7886272596375308627?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/7886272596375308627/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/sueno.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/7886272596375308627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/7886272596375308627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/sueno.html' title='Sueño'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TK_Qdiv1xhI/AAAAAAAAAB8/TA66V_1TF3c/s72-c/marinasilva03_06.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-6218226000189335914</id><published>2010-10-01T04:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T04:39:15.559-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Geografia Agrícola'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Energia'/><title type='text'>Biossucesso ou biofracasso</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TKXH3HpmKTI/AAAAAAAAAB0/paY1IOiYHZw/s1600/etanol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 116px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TKXH3HpmKTI/AAAAAAAAAB0/paY1IOiYHZw/s200/etanol.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523040267800029490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Energy Independence and Security Act em 2007 apitou o início de uma corrida. Em 2022, as distribuidoras de gasolina estadunidenses terão de misturar 136 bilhões de litros de combustíveis vindos de plantas à gasolina – e como produzir isso? O governo brasileiro alegremente se candidatou – com a já cinco vezes secular cana-de-açúcar, agora não mais para produzir o diabetizante açúcar mas para transformá-lo em um tipo de álcool com dois átomos de carbono pendurados, o famoso etanol. Há concorrentes. Os estadunidenses apostam no milho. Os europeus, no trigo e na beterraba.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Temos vantagens. A Agência para Proteção Ambiental dos EUA declarou que nosso álcool diminui as emissões de carbono em cerca de 60% em relação à gasolina – o que o coloca como biocombustível avançado, pois segundo eles mesmos os avançados têm de diminuir emissões em mais de 50%. O etanol de milho só diminui em 20%. E melhor – a própria lei americana determina que o teto de mistura de etanol de milho é de 57 bilhões – ou seja, sobram uns generosos 75 bilhões de litros para serem comprados de quem for esperto para vendê-los. Vivamos nós, certo?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Como no Paraíso, a cobra rasteja no grama, ou no canavial. Os de sempre – estadunidenses e europeus, agora com a adição dos chineses – estão pesquisando loucamente fazer biocombustível de segunda geração. Por trás desse nome bonito está qualquer coisa: restos de plantas, folhas, raízes, papel, lixo – qualquer coisa que possa ser transformada em líquido queimável. Eles pesquisarão, e acharão, como sempre – e nós teremos de pagar royalty pela tecnologia alheia. Como sempre?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Nossa única vantagem, como sempre, é produzir barato produtos chinfrins – no caso, muita, muita cana. A não ser que criemos vergonha na cara e comecemos desde ontem a entrar na corrida da pesquisa. A Petrobrás deu passo importante ao anunciar associação com a estadunidense KL Energy para produzir álcool de bagaço. Espera aumentar em 40% a produção de etanol para um mesmo hectare.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;É um começo, embora insuficiente. Precisamos de mais e mais pesquisa – a não ser que mais uma vez queiramos ficar a vender coisas baratinhas enquanto os outros enriquecem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-6218226000189335914?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/6218226000189335914/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/biossucesso-ou-biofracasso.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/6218226000189335914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/6218226000189335914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/10/biossucesso-ou-biofracasso.html' title='Biossucesso ou biofracasso'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TKXH3HpmKTI/AAAAAAAAAB0/paY1IOiYHZw/s72-c/etanol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3927351771639188204</id><published>2010-09-24T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T07:24:41.782-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='História'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Economia'/><title type='text'>PRODUZIMOS MUITO E MAL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TJy0RVNHG8I/AAAAAAAAABk/oVUMMEVLrmY/s1600/caf%C3%A9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 138px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TJy0RVNHG8I/AAAAAAAAABk/oVUMMEVLrmY/s200/caf%C3%A9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520485453092297666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Como decidir em quem votar? Alguns procuram textos sagrados. Outros, encíclicas de papas com nome cheio de algarismos romanos escritas nos séculos XVIII ou IX. Prosaicamente, procurei a pauta de exportações brasileiras. Fácil, está na página do Banco Central.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Uma pauta de exportações é um retrato. O nosso não chega a ser o monstro Frankenstein de Mrs. Shelley, mas não é bonito.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Veja, o que mais exportamos é ferro. Nada muito do que se orgulhar: a gente cavoca a terra, tira aquele monte de pedregulhos pesados, amontoa num vagão de trem, depois num porão de navio. E ele vai embora. Trabalho pouco elaborado, remuneração sem valor: aquilo é vendido por uma ridiculosidade por quilo. Só é rentável porque o dinheiro fica em mãos de muito poucos. Para eles, dá dinheiro. &lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Por questões técnicas, às vezes aquilo precisa ser transformado em bolinhas para entrar no forno. Então a gente junta uns elementos químicos e calor, e são as bolinhas (“pelotas”) que vão embora. De novo, trabalho pouco inteligente, pagamento pouco.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Nosso segundo produto é o petróleo. Puxa da terra, bota no navio. Preços mais altos por causa da própria futura exaustão do dito. De novo, nada muito sofisticado.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Depois, soja. As populações dos países ricos querem comer carne. (E engordar e ter pressão alta e empacotar num infarto, mas tudo bem!) Só que eles não têm 200 milhões de hectares para dar para boi (nós temos). Eles têm que manter o boi apertado num estábulo e trazer a comida para ele. Essa comida requer muita terra. E água. Até 1975 o boi comia anchova, um micropeixe que dá na costa do Peru. Depois descobriram a soja. Que infelizmente insiste em não aumentar muito de produtividade. (Desde 1950 a produtividade do milho quadruplicou – a da soja mal chegou ao dobro.) A melhor maneira de obter mais soja é usando mais terra para plantar mais soja. Bem, temos terra e água baratinhas – e a soja é igualmente baratinha.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Na mesma linha, vendemos carne. Proteína para a turma do Norte. E açúcar, para eles engordarem. Não vendemos sofisticações, mas pelo menos nossos simplezinhos são bons? A exportação de carne é vaga-lume, abre e fecha. Vive sendo embargada e depois reaberta por problemas de saúde. (Nossa carne é doentinha.) Os EUA não compram mais nossa carne cozida (daqui a pouco reabrem, para depois fechar de novo). A Rússia descobriu umas coisas feias em nossos bois mortos, umas lembranças de um vermífugo, que a gente nem consegue controlar a níveis toleráveis. A Europa chegou a importar de umas dez mil fazendas nossas, depois por questões de saúde diminuiu para umas cem, depois aumentou um pouco. Em outras palavras, nem carne a gente produz direito.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;E o açúcar? Melhor, o famoso etanol? Bem, é mercado que promete. Ela lei americana de biocombustíveis, os EUA em 2022 devem misturar 136 bilhões de litros deles a suas bombas de gasolina (cabeça, tronco e rodas). Só que, tirado a parcela dos produtores americanos de etanol de milho, que eles também têm de tomar sua Budweiser, sobram uns 75 bi, ainda muita coisa. Só que desses, uns 60 serão do chamado biocombustível de 2ª geração – baseado em celulose. Possível, mas caro. Os de sempre (EUA, China e Europa) estão investindo loucamente em pesquisa para baratear – e nós, como sempre, não o suficiente – apesar do recente acordo da Petrobrás com a KL Energy nesse sentido. Restam uns 15 bi, ainda muito. E com sinceridade anglo-saxônica se pode ler em páginas de fora: a vantagem do Brasil é sua matéria-prima barata (cheap sugar-cane).&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;E antes era assim? Vejamos no século XIX, o café. A terra era, por mercê de Deus ou do Imperador, um brinquedo na mão de poucos. E tinha muito húmus, por mercê de árvores que tinham morrido ali por uns milhos de anos. Os poucos contratavam ex-escravos para a tarefa – subiam os morros cheios de mata, cortando pela metade as árvores. Depois cortavam as árvores de cima, em linha, e estas desciam levando tudo. Depois, queimavam. Sequer se davam ao trabalho de girar os troncos para formar barreira contra a erosão. Plantavam em quadrado – formavam lindos corredores pelos quais as abundantes chuvas podiam levar todo o húmus e cavar buracos. Tratos culturais mal existiam – no máximo acumular palha na base dos troncos. Quanto às sementes, eram recebidas de presente de outros nobres, ou compradas, e nem se sabia o significado da palavra pro-du-ti-vi-da-de. A densidade de plantio era ridícula. Dava para colocar o triplo de cafeeiros na mesma terra.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;A terra, cavocada, sem fertilidade – era vendida num par de décadas a cortadores de lenha – e depois revendida para colocarem um boi por hectare – e ainda hoje podemos ver a grama, os poucos bois, os buracos de erosão e a pobreza, nos morros do Sudeste. E uns poucos casarões transformados em hotéis fazenda, revivendo, como dizem nos folhetos de propaganda, a “grandeza do passado”. &lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;E sequer nosso café era muito bom. O de Java e o da Colômbia eram melhores. Vendiam mais rápido. O nosso descansava nos armazéns, mas acabava vendendo – pelo próprio peso. Era muito café.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Essa parece ser a sina – produzimos muito, de cambulhada, produtos que não precisam de muita cabeça para ser feitos, e sequer muito bons. Qual nossa vantagem? Terra. Muita terra nos papéis de cartório possuídos por poucos. Isso, e salários de microscopia. Só isso. Claro, há ilhas de produtos sofisticados – exportamos muitos aviões, por exemplo. E caminhões. Mas no geral, é isso.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Não quero mais produzir barato e ruim. Quero mudanças, que já tardam há um par de séculos. É nisso que penso quando voto. E deixo as escrituras e encíclicas em paz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3927351771639188204?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3927351771639188204/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/produzimos-muito-e-mal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3927351771639188204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3927351771639188204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/produzimos-muito-e-mal.html' title='PRODUZIMOS MUITO E MAL'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TJy0RVNHG8I/AAAAAAAAABk/oVUMMEVLrmY/s72-c/caf%C3%A9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-392048421824352342</id><published>2010-09-15T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T17:57:00.012-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MDGs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='FAO'/><title type='text'>I AM MAD AS HELL!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/il_1tEQMwqY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/il_1tEQMwqY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.1billionhungry.org/pauloavelinobarbosasilva"&gt;Uma campanha que nos faz expressar nossa raiva&lt;a href="http://www.1billionhungry.org/pauloavelinobarbosasilva"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/a&gt; diante de um mundo que parece não mudar nada além do clima: a FAO quer pressionar esses safados (perdão, the world leaders) a colocarem dinheiro (o dinheiro que eles tão generosamente colocam no bolso de quem não precisa) para atingir a MODESTÍSSIMA meta de diminuir pela metade o número de pessoas com fome. Já se sabe que esse objetivo dificilmente será atingido no prazo, 2015.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;O número de famintos no mundo baixou de um bilhão, depois de passar desse triste recorde com a crise dos ricos-de-podres (a crise do subprime) em 2008. Agora é só... só de 935 milhões.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I AM MAD AS HELL, grita Jeremy Irons em interpretação soberna. AND ME TOO! e assine a petição: (ela será apresentada aos safados, perdão, os líderes mundiais, quando da reunião em que eles vão colocar suas desculpas por não atingirem os Millenium development goals a partir de 20/9):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.1billionhungry.org/pauloavelinobarbosasilva"&gt;http://www.1billionhungry.org/pauloavelinobarbosasilva&lt;/a&gt;/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-392048421824352342?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/392048421824352342/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-mad-as-hell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/392048421824352342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/392048421824352342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-mad-as-hell.html' title='I AM MAD AS HELL!!!!!'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-4595246974065658154</id><published>2010-09-14T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T17:27:00.110-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Política Internacional'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Organizações Internacionais'/><title type='text'>FMI procura curtas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Mas infelizmente não do Brasil. Para participar, precisa-se ser do Oriente Médio, da África ou do Paquistão. os curtas são sobre assuntos importantes como Desenvolvimento, Alfabetização, Emprego... mas um dos comentários diz em que a turma pensa quando vê o filme promocional: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"That girl is gorgeous!"&lt;/span&gt; Ah, que turma séria! eheh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4Ucdj0tppqk?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4Ucdj0tppqk?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-4595246974065658154?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/4595246974065658154/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/fmi-procura-curtas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4595246974065658154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4595246974065658154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/fmi-procura-curtas.html' title='FMI procura curtas'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-8296384512393337353</id><published>2010-09-13T17:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T17:14:26.954-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brasil'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sociedade'/><title type='text'>Aos pobres, as batatas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI6-Scdrz7I/AAAAAAAAAA4/7RFXBT0gp0E/s1600/estudantes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI6-Scdrz7I/AAAAAAAAAA4/7RFXBT0gp0E/s200/estudantes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516555817663057842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink 	{color:blue; 	text-decoration:underline; 	text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed 	{color:purple; 	text-decoration:underline; 	text-underline:single;} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;    &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;A baixa escolaridade da população brasileira mantém o país entre as dez nações mais desiguais do mundo. “Ainda estamos no top 10 da desigualdade mundial”, afirma o economista-chefe do Centro de Políticas Sociais vinculado à Fundação Getulio Vargas (FGV), Marcelo Côrtes Neri.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.itamaraty.gov.br/sala-de-imprensa/selecao-diaria-de-noticias/midias-nacionais/brasil/agencia-brasil/2010/09/13/baixa-escolaridade-mantem-pais-no-201ctop-10201d"&gt;http://www.itamaraty.gov.br/sala-de-imprensa/selecao-diaria-de-noticias/midias-nacionais/brasil/agencia-brasil/2010/09/13/baixa-escolaridade-mantem-pais-no-201ctop-10201d&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“O progresso econômico da América Latina a obrigará irremediavelmente a enfrentar o problema da desigualdade em suas sociedades, seu grande tendão de Aquiles, afirmou Heraldo Muñoz, diretor para a América Latina do Programa das Nações Unidas para o Desenvolvimento (PNUD).”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.itamaraty.gov.br/sala-de-imprensa/selecao-diaria-de-noticias/midias-nacionais/brasil/a-tarde/2010/09/13/especialista-avalia-situacao-da-desigualdade"&gt;http://www.itamaraty.gov.br/sala-de-imprensa/selecao-diaria-de-noticias/midias-nacionais/brasil/a-tarde/2010/09/13/especialista-avalia-situacao-da-desigualdade&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Isso são questões bem mais importantes do que o aborto. Em eleições, a gente tem de votar tendo em vistas as questões mais importantes. E nunca procurar candidato perfeito. Isso não existe. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dois especialistas hoje alertam para a desigualdade. É um problema que tem de ser enfrentado. Não digo cedo ou tarde, pois já vai ser enfrentado tarde. No link mais de cima, um outro especialista chama a atenção para o óbvio – a baixa qualidade da educação. Interessante como o sistema que nos governa tem o viés de distorcer idéias aparentemente boas. Um dos &lt;i style=""&gt;Milleniun development goals &lt;/i&gt;é universalizar o acesso á educação básica. Eles até estão fazendo isso – mas uma educação péssima. Aos pobres, as batatas – e podres.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-8296384512393337353?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/8296384512393337353/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/aos-pobres-as-batatas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8296384512393337353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8296384512393337353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/aos-pobres-as-batatas.html' title='Aos pobres, as batatas'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17561753897544121511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI2KpFE2DqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/rriMz6N8niw/S220/Queluz+-+Em+frente+a+Grupo+Escolar.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_86-1TA2K2P0/TI6-Scdrz7I/AAAAAAAAAA4/7RFXBT0gp0E/s72-c/estudantes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-8296876724924659013</id><published>2010-09-12T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T19:03:40.479-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Geografia Agrícola'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brasil'/><title type='text'>A Soja não compensa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TI2GQ3IhQRI/AAAAAAAAAME/ewIfGCmW99I/s1600/soja1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 160px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TI2GQ3IhQRI/AAAAAAAAAME/ewIfGCmW99I/s200/soja1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516212742834438418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;A soja, como o crime e o cheque, não compensa. Conta que não fecha: a população aumenta à razão de 73 milhões por ano. Parece pouco – não é. Pior, essa população, a apesar do mais-que-previsível atraso na consecução das metas do Millenium Development Goals,, aumenta de poder aquisitivo. A primeira coisa que uma população mais rica faz é comer mais carne. A segunda é engordar, a terceira é estourar de pressão alta, a quarta é ter problema cardíaco.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Mas tudo bem, fiquemos só com a primeira – por enquanto. Reprise de novela que já passou: depois da Segunda Guerra, a população enriquecida da Europa e dos EUA queria comer boi. Só que esses países não tinham espaço para colocar gado em áreas imensas – nada parecido com a rês por hectare que se tem no Brasil. Era preciso ter o boi num pequeno espaço, estabulado. O bicho não pode ir atrás da própria comida – você tem de trazê-la para ele. Para isso, é preciso uma comida concentrada e altamente protéica. E alguém tem de cultivá-la para você. O resultado para essa conta se chama: soja.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Havia respostas intermediárias. A anchova é um peixinho muito comum nas piscosíssimas costas do Peru. Também serve para ração de gado. Só que nos anos 70 houve crise na produção de anchovas. Pior, para conter a então alta inflação interna, os EUA embargaram a exportação de soja para o Japão, deixando as vacas japonesas sem comida. Os japoneses correram para diversificar suas fontes de produção – e encontraram um país latino-americano muito grande cujo nome começa com B.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;A soja até os anos 40 era cultivada nos EUA como forragem – era a planta que interessava, não o grão. Depois, o cultivo pelo grão explodiu. Em 1980 os EUA produziam seis décimos da soja mundial.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Desde os anos 1950, o progresso tecnológico fez com que para a mesma superfície de terra, você produzisse quatro vezes mais milho. (Muitas vezes nem para alimentação humana direta, mas para fazer xarope de frutose para botar em refrigerante, mas tudo bem!) O mesmo não aconteceu com a soja. Desde 1950, a produtividade da soja nem sequer dobrou. A forma de conseguir mais soja é basicamente usar mais terra para plantar mais soja – e como ficam biomas importantes como a Amazônia e o Cerrado?&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Não fecha essa conta. Só se se detonarem o que resta das florestas, ou a população deixar de crescer, ou deixar de comer carne. Qual a aposta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-8296876724924659013?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/8296876724924659013/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/soja-nao-compensa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8296876724924659013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8296876724924659013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/09/soja-nao-compensa.html' title='A Soja não compensa'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TI2GQ3IhQRI/AAAAAAAAAME/ewIfGCmW99I/s72-c/soja1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-584175570415464852</id><published>2010-06-18T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T15:01:33.491-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Kyrgyzstan - a triple lie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBvssajaaNI/AAAAAAAAAL0/7SZMc3MecGQ/s1600/kyrgyzstan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 137px; height: 109px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBvssajaaNI/AAAAAAAAAL0/7SZMc3MecGQ/s200/kyrgyzstan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484237219039963346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Just a day before the world turned eyes and cameras to South Africa, to the World Cup, ethnic violence unexpectedly broke out in Kyrgyzstan. This is a triple lie: neither it was unexpected, nor it fid not break out, and the outmost falsehood, it is not ethnic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crisis in Kyrgyzstan has been looming for a couple of months. There had been some clashes between the people and the police, the President plagued by denounces of corruption has been forced to flee the country.  Western media paid little attention. That country with an odd name seems so far away…&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;And still its problems are very akin to ours. The roots of the crisis are situated on the market reforms of the beginning of the nineties. The protective mechanisms that used to feed, care for and shelter the people were knocked out – and the result was deaths, massive unemployment and the spread of poverty – along with the usual explosion of corruption.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;A desperate population left to struggle for life usually – and erroneously – struggle between themselves. When there is some kind of ethnic diversity – even when nobody cared about it for decades – it is a motive for the violence.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;The so called ethnic violence is not ethnic. It is another IMF and World Bank crime, God bless them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-584175570415464852?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/584175570415464852/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/kyrgyzstan-triple-lie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/584175570415464852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/584175570415464852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/kyrgyzstan-triple-lie.html' title='Kyrgyzstan - a triple lie'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBvssajaaNI/AAAAAAAAAL0/7SZMc3MecGQ/s72-c/kyrgyzstan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-6404421912424096193</id><published>2010-06-16T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T18:14:25.079-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Bloody Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBl2xzdR6rI/AAAAAAAAALs/PgZY2I_8dIo/s1600/bloody.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 107px; height: 143px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBl2xzdR6rI/AAAAAAAAALs/PgZY2I_8dIo/s200/bloody.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483544619298974386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Things never really end in this world, said some character in a Dostoevsky’s novel, The Devils. A suitable name for this note, because it deals with small radical groups fighting for freedom. I am not sure if the day January 30th, 1972 did exist at all. I barely exited myself, and could hardly consider that, beyond my childish fears, there were people in a distant country preparing a march against what they saw as oppression, the ailing but still powerful British Empire.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;They were Irishmen in a place called Derry, close to the border, protesting for civil rights. An all-too-familiar scenario: a bunch of scarcely human beings called the Army crammed behind barricades, feeling secure and fearful, some order nobody gave, man and women running, stumbling over things and over each other, and soldiers pulling the trigger – so much easier.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Later, the inquiries. The claims of innocence – oh, They were firing at me… oh, I was so nervous… Some commission issued a report meant to settle matters once and forever – after 38 years. We all hope it will really achieve that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-6404421912424096193?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/6404421912424096193/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/bloody-sunday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/6404421912424096193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/6404421912424096193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/bloody-sunday.html' title='Bloody Sunday'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBl2xzdR6rI/AAAAAAAAALs/PgZY2I_8dIo/s72-c/bloody.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-200379175004536662</id><published>2010-06-15T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T17:52:34.916-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Obama spills the word</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBggJPE_OcI/AAAAAAAAALk/cAUK8WtUCGM/s1600/barack-obama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBggJPE_OcI/AAAAAAAAALk/cAUK8WtUCGM/s200/barack-obama.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483167889361942978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ouch! The pessimists (or realists, as they call themselves) used to deem Mr. Obama as the other leaders of nowadays: talk about change, but keep the power and the money flowing to the same hands or Cayman Islands secret accounts. Especially when Mr. Obama revealed that “The change has come”. Well, that looked very much alike those statements of corrupt politicians saying they are not. To take a very close to him example, no one ever heard an American president declaring that he was powerful. Nonetheless, the world recalls Mr. Nixon remarking that he was no crook – precisely what he was.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Now Mr. Obama has come with a harder than expected (and lengthier than expected) pronouncement on the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. Well, the affair is uglier than it seemed: an entire oil drilling installation some 70 kilometers off the coast just bended, dropped into the sea, wringing the drill pipeline and breaking it in no less than there parts – and those holes are now leaking some 5000 barrels each day.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Obama did not speak softly about British Petroleum. He remarked that that company will have to pay and to clean and to compensate. He said that the new head of some federal agency will act like a watchdog for the corporations, not like their partner. All well said. One can only hope that these were not merely words, words and words, like that silly Prince of Denmark said someday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-200379175004536662?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/200379175004536662/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/obama-spills-word.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/200379175004536662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/200379175004536662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/obama-spills-word.html' title='Obama spills the word'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBggJPE_OcI/AAAAAAAAALk/cAUK8WtUCGM/s72-c/barack-obama.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-1104569472845327630</id><published>2010-06-14T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T19:22:00.214-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Lies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBLvzbzW7RI/AAAAAAAAALc/vuA4QxnXyz8/s1600/ogritodaindependencia1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 163px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBLvzbzW7RI/AAAAAAAAALc/vuA4QxnXyz8/s320/ogritodaindependencia1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481707363378851090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Napoleon is reputed to have said that History is a lie in which people believe &amp;ndash; probably a lie in itself but an interesting one. (I am no fan of Napoleon&amp;rsquo;s &amp;ndash; that little man with gold laces that gave us nothing but conscription &amp;ndash; in Wilhelm Reich&amp;rsquo;s words.) And Alejo Carpentier  stated in the forties&amp;rsquo; that surrealism in Europe is an intellectual attitude, but in Latin America is a daily reality.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I have just discovered I have lived in a lie. Brazil was not a unified colony &amp;ndash; the establishment of a kingdom was not an expected and almost desired product of a European colonization &amp;ndash; Independence was not a product of the bourgeois revolutions of the time. The capitanias were fairly independent from each other, the central government was never a central government, so weak it was. And Independence was not a result of liberal winds, but quite the contrary, it was a reactionary project. Even the United Kingdom was a suggestion of that Machiavellian figure of Talleyrand.  On the contrary, Independence was a reaction to the liberalism of the Porto Revolution of 1820. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unity of the so&amp;ndash;called country was not ensured by a non&amp;ndash;existent sense of national unity, but for the interests of slave&amp;ndash;trade. Demétrio Magnoli reveals how deep was slavery rooted in Brazilian society. The local elites were too weak to face for themselves the threat that Britain posed to the traffic. They had to take their chances submitting to a power that could face that challenge somehow. And that power was the Emperor.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;That is why, in Brazil, the state preceded the nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-1104569472845327630?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/1104569472845327630/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/lies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1104569472845327630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1104569472845327630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/lies.html' title='Lies'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBLvzbzW7RI/AAAAAAAAALc/vuA4QxnXyz8/s72-c/ogritodaindependencia1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-1969819263558094857</id><published>2010-06-14T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T18:33:49.447-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>The Battle Hymn of the Republic</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;In Catholic churches in Brazil they sing a hymn whose refrain is “Gloria, Gloria, aleluia”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, they don’t know, but it is not a Catholic hymn. Not even a Christian one. This short song conveys the strongest values of North-American liberalism. Those values are the same of the hard-core eighteenth century illuminism: laicity, a knee-jerk belief in progress, the faith in a group of leaders.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;John Brown was an abolitionist leader killed by southern slavers. And that song pays homage to him and calls for action: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;“John Brown’s body lies moldering in the green;&lt;br /&gt;John Brown’s body lies moldering in the green;&lt;br /&gt; John Brown’s body lies moldering in the green;&lt;br /&gt;But his soul GOES MARCHING ON!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song was chanted by the black regiments on their way to die in the Civil War. It is a typical march – it stresses one of the syllables to mark the weigh of the soldiers´ right feet striking the ground. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Battle Hymn of the Republic, even by its very name, is not a religious song.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nvRZXdWjloo&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nvRZXdWjloo&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-1969819263558094857?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/1969819263558094857/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/battle-hymn-of-republic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1969819263558094857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1969819263558094857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/battle-hymn-of-republic.html' title='The Battle Hymn of the Republic'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-822362939573781867</id><published>2010-06-11T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T18:40:00.357-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Two chils for James</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBGUc7ysasI/AAAAAAAAALU/pUO9lzwELUg/s1600/415px-portrait_of_henry_james_1913.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 138px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBGUc7ysasI/AAAAAAAAALU/pUO9lzwELUg/s200/415px-portrait_of_henry_james_1913.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481325446294170306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The presence on the lawn… was poor little Miles himself.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I used to say that the turn-of-the-century Britons had a huge Navy, a huger &lt;i style=""&gt;hubris&lt;/i&gt; and not much more. Yeats and Joyce were Irish, Thomas Edward Lawrence was homosexual, David Herbert Lawrence was prosecuted as a pornographer and a guy called James was an American.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Henry James chills, literally. Drop by drop. Not that he was a mystery writer, a Henry King &lt;i style=""&gt;avant-la-lettre&lt;/i&gt;. The &lt;i style=""&gt;Turn of the Screw&lt;/i&gt; begins Borges-like or Shelley-like, if you want: a group of friends telling themselves stories. One of them just tells one that involved one child. &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Douglas&lt;/st1:place&gt; adds that a child gives the effect another turn of the screw. And he has a story that involves two.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The first time I read the &lt;i style=""&gt;Turn &lt;/i&gt;it amazed me how James, a man, could write so well in first person in the voice of a woman, a young governess. That was enough to ward off conceptions of &lt;i style=""&gt;only a woman can write about another woman. &lt;/i&gt;And it amazes me now that the spine-tingling comes slowly, almost imperceptibly. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The unnamed governess, the housekeeper Mrs. Grose, and above all the young ones, Flora and Miles, are the main characters of a plot never sufficiently clarified. The young woman is touching, almost pathetic. A &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don Quijote&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; of a private little world, she endeavors a cat-and-mouse hunting of… what? A supercilious young man aquires the habit of being seen from time to time by the governess. So does a young woman, invariably black-clad. The problem is that both are old employees of the house, and both are dead. The governess takes to herself the task of protecting the youngsters from those creatures. As in the quotation above, the governess chases the suspected ghosts and finds only the children. But do they really need protection?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-822362939573781867?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/822362939573781867/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/two-chils-for-james.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/822362939573781867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/822362939573781867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/two-chils-for-james.html' title='Two chils for James'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBGUc7ysasI/AAAAAAAAALU/pUO9lzwELUg/s72-c/415px-portrait_of_henry_james_1913.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3843958414480470801</id><published>2010-06-10T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T07:34:09.423-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Sad Cypress</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBD32PTYUxI/AAAAAAAAALM/YnIdurKQF3E/s1600/SAD-CYPRESS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 123px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBD32PTYUxI/AAAAAAAAALM/YnIdurKQF3E/s200/SAD-CYPRESS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481153257702707986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sad Cypress is just like the others: rich aunts, loving English neighborhoods, distant and slothful relatives thirsting for a juicy inheritance. Agatha Christie was endowed with the gift of writing over and over the same story in a interesting way. She almost succeeds in convincing us that British have a taste for poisoning each other. Of course, the novel is psychologically shallow. This does not pertain only to the author, but to all crime fiction. Sad Cypress borders the ridiculous when the old and rich aunt reveals that she does not intend to bequeath her property to her only (and illegitimate) daughter, because the girl does not know of her prospective wealth, and she is better off in her simple life of poor country girl… Gosh. Mexican soup–operas writers would know better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3843958414480470801?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3843958414480470801/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/sad-cypress.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3843958414480470801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3843958414480470801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/sad-cypress.html' title='Sad Cypress'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TBD32PTYUxI/AAAAAAAAALM/YnIdurKQF3E/s72-c/SAD-CYPRESS.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-946160068210265707</id><published>2010-06-02T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T13:03:49.672-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><title type='text'>Borges borrows - I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TAa48pxXC9I/AAAAAAAAAK8/fCbShqwt_Gc/s1600/allanPoe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TAa48pxXC9I/AAAAAAAAAK8/fCbShqwt_Gc/s320/allanPoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478269348887333842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Literature comes from literature, Borges is quoted as having said, and he was right. Not only is that an appealing phrase but it does apply to the author himself. We are Latin-Americans. Whether we like it or not, our literary culture is a bunch of footnotes in some well-crafted book on the history of French literary movements. In spite of that, the writings of the Witch of Belgrano did not arise from the petty bourgeois miseries of a Maupassant or the long poetic phrases of a Marcel Proust. Borges is the son, the grandson, the nephew of a much smaller literature, if we may say. A less important one: Anglo-Saxon literature. His forefathers were second-rate names, as Wordsworth or Coleridge, names that I would not mind spending my life without having to assign a single minute for reading them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why Borges seems to pop up out of nowhere, for an average reader of French-derived literature. One gets bewildered: from whom this guy took those fake manuscripts and books no one ever heard about? He did not get everything out of his own mind. Borges took a great deal from a guy called Edgar Allan Poe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-946160068210265707?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/946160068210265707/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/borges-borrows-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/946160068210265707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/946160068210265707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/06/borges-borrows-i.html' title='Borges borrows - I'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/TAa48pxXC9I/AAAAAAAAAK8/fCbShqwt_Gc/s72-c/allanPoe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-336432329773069784</id><published>2010-05-04T17:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T17:17:24.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evita y los nazis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/S-C5BjLueqI/AAAAAAAAAK0/NYxZpGuybkU/s1600/evaperon5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/S-C5BjLueqI/AAAAAAAAAK0/NYxZpGuybkU/s320/evaperon5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467573383903214242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Una extraña historia. En agosto de 1944 el imperio nazista se acercaba a sus últimos momentos. Imperio asesino y ladrón: mucha riqueza se había acumulado en los cofres de los fabricantes de máquinas y de armas, que ahora tenían solamente el deseo de quedarse con su dinero y su piel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En una residencia enigmáticamente denominada La Casa Roja, los Krupp, fabricantes de cañones, los Messershmidt, de aviones de caza, y los Thyssen, que fornecían acero para todos los demás, entre otros, decidieron que su dinero y algunos de los criminales dejarían la Alemania por una ruta que empezaría en Munich, atravesaría los Alpes hasta alcanzar Madrid, y de allá alcanzaría Génova, donde la ruta se dividiria en diferentes ramos: Egipto, Líbano, Síria y Benos Aires. Ese camiño de fuga tenía tres nombres, todos significativos. Se llamava red romana, o camino de los monasterios, o el nombre quizás más adecuado, la ruta de los ratones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Empero, los primeros nombres son más informativos. El camiño era de monasterios porqué, por supuesto, sus camiñantes frecuentaban mucho esas instituciones. Y se llamava también red romana porqué los protectores de los fugitivos se encontraban en el Vaticano. Ellos eran ayudados por cierto obispo austríaco Hudal, que tenía la protecíon de dos cardinales, y en cuya oficina a la Séccion Extranjeros de cierta repartición pontifícia forneció decenas de milles de pasaportes a personas que nos lo tenían. Entre ellos, muchos nazís.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E no sólo de Alemania. Los criminales más ligados a el Vaticano no eran los alemanes sino los croatas. Ante Pavlevic, el carnicero de Zagreb,  lograba ser peor aún que el propio Hitler. Ese hombre tenía amistades influyentes. Muchos años después la prensa ha descubierto un cable confidencial de la CIA, aconsejando a sus agentes no capturaren a Pavlevic, porqué este era amigo de cierto Monsenhor Giovanni Batista Montini. Posteriormente ese prelado cambiaría de empleo y de nombre. Ahora la gente lo conoce bajo el nombre de Paulo VI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De un lado, nazistas foragidos con dinero y medo de la justicia; de otro, padres y obispos, sabe Díos la razón de ese empeño en ayudar criminales. Había necesidad de un tercero elemento en la conjura – y este fue encontrado en un dictador esperto y ambicioso, de ideas popularescas y un tanto fascistas, que lograra empalmar el poder en Argentina. El coronel Perón acogió de brazos abiertos a los nazís croatas y a su dinero. (Posteriormente los croatas llamarían a Argentina de Tierra Abenzoada). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y como lo sabemos? Porqué entre ese trípode de hombres, monedas y crímenes se hallaba una mujer, chica pero muy ambiciosa. Nadie conoce el contenido del diálogo entre el papa Pio XII y Eva María Duarte de Perón en junio de 1947. Tras esa entrevista, Pavlevic obtuvo facilmente una visa argentina a su pasaporte bajo un nombre fictício y dos meses después desenbarcó en Buenos Aires con sotaina de cura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-336432329773069784?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/336432329773069784/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/05/evita-y-los-nazis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/336432329773069784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/336432329773069784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/05/evita-y-los-nazis.html' title='Evita y los nazis'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/S-C5BjLueqI/AAAAAAAAAK0/NYxZpGuybkU/s72-c/evaperon5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-1460460403223640997</id><published>2010-04-21T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T12:16:11.168-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Español'/><title type='text'>EVITA, LA MISTERIOSA</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/S89O2vD5l2I/AAAAAAAAAKs/lUeT-AUD7_U/s1600/evita+chica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/S89O2vD5l2I/AAAAAAAAAKs/lUeT-AUD7_U/s320/evita+chica.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462671575276427106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me veo tentado a escribir sobre Evita. Por supuesto, leo una barroca y un tanto  excesivamente literaria descripción de su vida, Eva Perón, una biografía, de Alicia Dujovne Ortiz. La señora Dujovne nos conduce desde lejanos tiempos y logares, del hogar de los Ibarguren, el apellido verdadero y vizcaíno de María Eva Duarte de Perón, que no era ni María Eva ni Duarte. Su padre, estanciero y político, tenía el hábito de hacerse fiestas para el pueblo – sus electores – utilizando los fondos públicos de la pobre municipalidad de Los Toldos, cerca de Junín, en la provincia de Buenos Aires, donde nació su cuarta hija, Eva María.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El cambio de posición de sus dos primeros nombres es tan cercado de misterio y política como todo lo más en su trayectoria. Esa extraordinaria transformación ocurrió cuando Eva se iba casarse con el macizo y carismático coronel Juan Domingo Perón, &lt;br /&gt;Vicepresidente de la República, llegado al poder gracias a un golpe militar que había derribado a otro gobierno tan militar y tan antidemocrático cuanto el primero. Eva quería ocultar lo máximo posible su imagen de mujer humilde y, peor aún, de actriz, es decir, de pecadora – los dos términos eran un tanto intercambiables a la época. Para conseguirlo tomó la providencia de hacer desaparecer el certificado de bautismo, en lo cual se atestaba su nacimiento el 7 de mayo de 1919. El nuevo certificado no sólo le atribuyó una nueva fecha tres años después de la verdadera (07/05/1922), como logró cambiarle el nombre: María Eva, la salvadora antes de la primera mujer de lo pecado. Era importante para la política.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero eso no lo es todo. Y lo diremos en breve.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-1460460403223640997?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/1460460403223640997/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/04/evita-la-misteriosa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1460460403223640997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1460460403223640997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2010/04/evita-la-misteriosa.html' title='EVITA, LA MISTERIOSA'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/S89O2vD5l2I/AAAAAAAAAKs/lUeT-AUD7_U/s72-c/evita+chica.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-7315240399028050416</id><published>2009-10-24T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T16:18:26.998-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teoria da Literatura'/><title type='text'>A palavra e o rio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SuOLMRsgG-I/AAAAAAAAAKk/wfOX0Dc3LGo/s1600-h/Heart+of+Darkness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SuOLMRsgG-I/AAAAAAAAAKk/wfOX0Dc3LGo/s320/Heart+of+Darkness.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396309821544733666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Alguém juntou barro. E palha. Levou ao sol ou secou no fogo. E clivou a história em antes e depois. Sua invenção é a espinha do prédio mais sofisticado abarrotado dos computadores mais modernos: ela é o tijolo. (Antes, o mundo era de pedra). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sabia que existia uma ciência chamada Teoria da Cerâmica, que nada tem a ver com programas de trabalhos manuais na TV à tarde. È uma ciência desenvolvida, mencionada extensivamente pelo historiador e ex-monge John Dominic Crossan no seu The Birth of Christianity, seiscentas páginas sobre as primeiras duas décadas de religião cristã. Cerâmica é importante. Geralmente não pensamos o óbvio, mas sem cerâmica só se pode comer coisas cruas ou espetadas num pau e levadas ao fogo. A cerâmica permite que você coloque água e comida num vasilhame e o leve ao fogo e o vasilhame não queima. Ou seja, permite a criação da arte da culinária. Prêmios Nobel para quem a inventou.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Uma terceira invenção de brilho trouxe quem fez a palavra. Uma massa de sons associada a um objeto, ação ou mais ousadamente ainda a um conceito. Difícil esgotar e duvido que alguém esgote as possibilidades da palavra. É enfeitiçadora, como diz Wittgenstein. De todas as suas características, vejamos a linearidade. Não adianta, antes de ler “linearidade” você leu o artigo “a”. E antes ainda o verbo “adianta”. Uma palavra após a outra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um marinheiro polonês que atendia pelo nome quase impronunciável de Jozef Teodor Nałecz Korzeniowski na virada dos anos 1900 recebeu uma oferta de ser capitão de navio. Ele não era capitão, era sub, e a oferta tentou. Seria capitão para uma companhia comercial de marfim num rio chamado Congo. Chegando lá, não era nada daquilo. Não seria capitão, continuaria sub. Decepcionado, logo foi embora. Mas o que ouviu naquele pequeno período gelava as veias.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Voltou à Inglaterra e escreveu a sua história, travestida na história de um capitão que subia o rio para procurar um chefe de estação comercial. Esse chefe era um homem sensível, pintava e queria o progresso do mundo, era noivo de uma moça amorosa e viajara à África para ganhar dinheiro, era pobre. O escritor deu a este chefe o nome de Kurtz. Que fora seduzido pelos lemas de civilizar os negros e deparara com uma máquina de matar e agrilhoar povos mais fracos que em algumas décadas reduziu a população do rio de uns 25 para 11 milhões de pessoas. E enlouqueceu. Esta é a história. Acompanhamos um grupo de brancos subindo um rio, querendo dinheiro, e o narrador cada vez mais interessado neste homem chamado Kurtz. No final o encontra, e ao morrer Kurtz sintetiza a empresa da colonização européia em duas frases, O horror, o horror. O autor não se chamava mais Jozef Teodor Nałecz Korzeniowski e sim Joseph Conrad, e sua narrativa era The Heart of Darkness, O Coração das Trevas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A palavra se presta total a narrativas lineares. O narrador consegue o emprego. O narrador sai da Europa. O narrador chega a África. Entra no barco fluvial. Sobe o rio. Encontra Kurtz. Kurtz lhe revela o horror da civilização branca e cristã. Um elemento depois do outro. Mas não é só isso. A palavra é sinérgica. De certa forma, ganha da imagem. A teórica da literatura Francine Prose lembra um fato óbvio, um texto é feito de palavras. Talvez uma prova seja que O Coração das Trevas nos revela o terror do colonialismo mais que qualquer relatório humanitário, por mais informativo e bem-intencionado que seja. Por que sua escolha de palavras é melhor, por que os recursos da palavra são melhor utilizados. Não precisamos de uma foto do rio Congo, não precisamos de nenhuma foto dos horrores que os belgas fizeram. (Sim, foram os simpáticos cidadãos daquele simpático país).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Penguin recentemente relacionou seis experiências de literatura digital (http://wetellstories.co.uk/). No fundo um jogo com dois elementos, a escolha e os elementos extrapalavra. A imagem fixa, o som, a imagem que se move. Um problema que toda literatura digital enfrenta é que os elementos extrapalavra são ilustrativos. A imagem ilustra, como a foto do canguru em cima da palavra canguru no artiguinho da Wikipédia. O problema é que num contexto literário uma boa descrição narrativa do canguru torna uma foto do próprio dispensável, quando não prejudica. Mais ainda uma patética gravação de seus grunhidos.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;A utilização criativa dos elementos extrapalavra desafia a literatura digital. O seu desenvolvimento como gênero artístico autônomo depende disso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-7315240399028050416?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/7315240399028050416/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/10/palavra-e-o-rio.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/7315240399028050416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/7315240399028050416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/10/palavra-e-o-rio.html' title='A palavra e o rio'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SuOLMRsgG-I/AAAAAAAAAKk/wfOX0Dc3LGo/s72-c/Heart+of+Darkness.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-7115746032585631005</id><published>2009-09-07T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T19:26:00.263-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resenha'/><title type='text'>A PESTE - II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sp8phdkg-LI/AAAAAAAAAKc/RfhwjWs4HCw/s1600-h/PesteRomaDelaunay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sp8phdkg-LI/AAAAAAAAAKc/RfhwjWs4HCw/s320/PesteRomaDelaunay.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377062134953867442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype style="font-weight: bold;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="metricconverter"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype style="font-weight: bold;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PersonName"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt; 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&lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;CAMUS, Albert. &lt;st1:personname productid="La Peste.  Paris" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:personname productid="La Peste." st="on"&gt;&lt;u&gt;La Peste.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/st1:personname&gt;&lt;u&gt;  &lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Paris&lt;/st1:personname&gt;: Gallimard, 1985. 279p.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Um livro adequado para tempos de gripe suína.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Na manhã do dia 16 de abril, o Dr. Bernard Rieux sai de seu escritório e encontra um rato morto, na escada.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Albert Cam&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;us escreveu sobre um lugar que bem conhecia, a Argélia. A pulga cravou seus dentes na cidade de Oran. Podia ter sido em qualquer cidade em &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:metricconverter style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" productid="2009. A" st="on"&gt;2009. A&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; peste é a crônica de uma cidade tomada por uma doença.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Este livro não precisa de resenha. Bastam frases.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“No dia 28 de abril, súbito os ratos desaparecem. O porteiro se sente mal. Tem um nó de madeira no pescoço”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“A palavra ´peste´ foi pronunciada.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“O micróbio em três dias quadruplica o volume do baço... Pode matar a metade da cidade em dois meses”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Finalmente ele reconheceu que tem medo.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Se a peste não parar por si mesma, não serão as medidas da Administração que a pararão”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“A gente se fatiga da piedade quando esta é inútil.” &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“O Padre grita: ´Vocês mereceram a infelicidade!´”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Amar ou morrer juntos, não há outro recurso.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“As repartições não são feitas para compreender”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“A única maneira de lutar contra a peste é a honestidade”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Ele tinha coração. Servia-lhe para ver morrer homens”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“A peste se prolongará por meses, até parar sem razão.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Não explicar a peste, mas aprender com ela”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Se um padre consulta um médico, há nisso uma contradição”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Ao renunciar a matar, eu me condenei a exílios. Os outros farão a história.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Há a pulga e as vítimas e não mais. Escolhi as vítimas.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Ser homem é mais difícil que ser santo”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“A peste perdia sua matemática soberana”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Uma declaração administrativa não pára uma pulga”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“O que é a peste? É a vida, eis tudo.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Há nos homens mais coisas a admirar que a detestar.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-7115746032585631005?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/7115746032585631005/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/peste-ii_07.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/7115746032585631005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/7115746032585631005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/peste-ii_07.html' title='A PESTE - II'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sp8phdkg-LI/AAAAAAAAAKc/RfhwjWs4HCw/s72-c/PesteRomaDelaunay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3031649075982907064</id><published>2009-09-04T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T06:00:01.881-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>O ECLIPSE, de George Meliés</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aAf0_khIvBw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aAf0_khIvBw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;George Meliés tinha razão. O mundo devia ser sonho. Devia ser sonho – ou não devia ser nada. E a seqüência de quadros sensíveis de celulóide à razão de 16 ou 24 por segundo são uma forma bem prática de torná-lo sonho.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;George Meliés percebeu no austero invento dos irmãos Lumière a possibilidade de uma arte. E neste hiper-clássico prova isso. Uma arte que rastejava, uma indústria também. E Melés não foi pé-no-chão. Antes pé-na-lua: filmou o ECLIPSE, ou o namoro do sol e da lua. Um velho astrônomo e seus alunos maluquinhos vêem os corpos astrais. Linda, a cena das estrelas.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;George Meliés tinha razão. O mundo devia ser sonho. Ser sonho ou ser nada. Claro, sempre resta a possibilidade de ser nada!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3031649075982907064?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3031649075982907064/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-eclipse-de-george-melies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3031649075982907064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3031649075982907064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-eclipse-de-george-melies.html' title='O ECLIPSE, de George Meliés'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-2402327936041865849</id><published>2009-09-03T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T06:00:05.464-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ecologia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relações internacionais'/><title type='text'>A CONVENÇÃO DE VENA PARA PROTEÇÃO DA CAMADA DE OZÔNIO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SprSfQCSDpI/AAAAAAAAAJs/CxZQ73RuvJY/s1600-h/Ozone-Layer.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 297px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SprSfQCSDpI/AAAAAAAAAJs/CxZQ73RuvJY/s320/Ozone-Layer.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375840539542425234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Esta foi uma convenção assinada em 22 de março de 1985 em Viena. Não contém nenhum compromisso no sentido de reduzir o consumo ou produção de CFC. Apesar de disso foi um importante marco, no sentido de atacar um problema ambiental antes que seus efeitos fossem sentidos ou sua existência científicamente provada. Foi um exemplo de "Princípio da precaução" numa negociação internacional&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Em 2001 184 partes haviam ratificado a Convenção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Artigos relevantes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;1. As partes devem tomar medidas apropriadas para proteger a saúde humana e o ambiente contra efeitos adversos resultantes de atividades humanas que possam modificar a camada de ozônio;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;3. As partes devem cooperar em pesquisas sobre os efeitos na saúde humana resultantes de mudanças em radiações ultra-violetas tendo efeitos biológicvos (ultra-violet solar radiation having biological effects - UV - B);&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Anexo I : 1. As partes reconhecem que as principais questões científicas são:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;As modificações na camada de ozônio que podem resultar em mudança no total de UV-B que atinge a superfície da Terra e as consequências para a saúde humana, organismos, ecossistemas e materiais úteis;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;modificações na distribuição vertical de ozônio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;2. d) (i) observação sistemática do status da camada, pela criação do Global Ozone Observing System;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;(vi) observações nas propriedades do aerosol;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;(p 19-21) Substâncias naturais ou antorpogênicas que se pensa que têm potencial para modificar as propriedades químicas ou físicas da camada de ozônio:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;a) Substâncias de Carbono:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- Monóxido de Carbono (CO)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- Dióxido de Carbono (CO2)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- Metano (CH4)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- espécies de hidrocarbono não-metano;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;a) Sustâncias de nitrogênio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- óxido nitroso (N2O)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- Óxidos de Nitrogênio (NOx)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;c) Substâncias de cloro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- alcanos completamente halogenados, como o CCI4, CFCI3 (CFC - 11), CF2CI2 (CFC - 12);&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- alcanos parcialmente halogenados, como o CH3CI, CHF2CI (CFC -22)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;d) substâncias de Bromo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;alcanos completamente halogenados, como o CF3Br;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;e) substâncias de hidrogênio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- Hidrogênio (H2);&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;- Água (H2O)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-2402327936041865849?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/2402327936041865849/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/convencao-de-vena-para-protecao-da.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2402327936041865849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2402327936041865849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/convencao-de-vena-para-protecao-da.html' title='A CONVENÇÃO DE VENA PARA PROTEÇÃO DA CAMADA DE OZÔNIO'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SprSfQCSDpI/AAAAAAAAAJs/CxZQ73RuvJY/s72-c/Ozone-Layer.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-1437192521449777776</id><published>2009-09-02T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T06:00:07.668-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Français'/><title type='text'>Les français ne sont pas inférieurs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SpiIBsbHuSI/AAAAAAAAAJk/mYV7NH9AKV8/s1600-h/metro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 176px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SpiIBsbHuSI/AAAAAAAAAJk/mYV7NH9AKV8/s320/metro.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375195717952846114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink 	{color:blue; 	text-decoration:underline; 	text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed 	{color:purple; 	text-decoration:underline; 	text-underline:single;} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;Le Brésil est vraiment um pays inférieur. Imaginez, il y a des vols en plein Métro de Rio. Centaines de vols. Le police ne fait pas grand chose, ils seulement parlent quelque chose sur « difficulté de identification » des voleurs. Et le pire : ils ne sont des voleurs, mais des voleuses ! Prenez-vouz congé de la mesonge de la sensibilité et de la bonté des femmes. Ces grupes de voleuses travaillent en trios, frequentement attaquant d´autres femmes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;Mais un moment, s´il vous plaît. C´est n´est pas Rio, c´est Paris! &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Le Figaro a fait un grnad reportage sur les centaines de vols au Métro parisienne. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;Mais personne alait dire que les français sont inférieurs...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lefigaro.fr/actualite-france/2009/08/28/01016-20090828ARTFIG00012-alerte-aux-voleuses-a-la-tire-dans-le-metro-parisien-.php"&gt;http://www.lefigaro.fr/actualite-france/2009/08/28/01016-20090828ARTFIG00012-alerte-aux-voleuses-a-la-tire-dans-le-metro-parisien-.php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-1437192521449777776?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/1437192521449777776/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/les-francais-ne-sont-pas-inferieurs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1437192521449777776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1437192521449777776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/les-francais-ne-sont-pas-inferieurs.html' title='Les français ne sont pas inférieurs'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SpiIBsbHuSI/AAAAAAAAAJk/mYV7NH9AKV8/s72-c/metro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3391589313454241266</id><published>2009-09-01T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T06:00:11.119-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Overpopulation - The Economist debates</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sph-9GwZtgI/AAAAAAAAAJU/P-7rJ5dcBUM/s1600-h/overpopulation.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 296px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sph-9GwZtgI/AAAAAAAAAJU/P-7rJ5dcBUM/s320/overpopulation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375185743517431298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The Economist Magazine has from time to time a good idea: it puts a proposition on the floor and opens it to opinions and rebuttals. There a major defender of the prop and an attacker. Now on August 2009 the motion as they call it was: Are we too many people?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Five days and over five hundred comments from around the world made of that one of the most popular and controversial issues ever discussed in this schema. Mr, John Seeger President of a Think Tank called The Population Connection top-defended the motion. He predictably relied on sheer (and sometimes haunting) numbers. Such as: Mankind took from its beginning to the year of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights to reach 2 billion people. And from that time it has more than tripled its numbers. That means 4,7 billion people more to feed, to shelter and to transport – and to burn fossil fuels for it, adding to the effect of climate change.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Climate change was no minor issue within the debate. The opponents of the notion especially Mr. Michael Lind the chief opponent doesn’t deny the Climate Change at all. But it says that it has more to do with bad technology and bad governments than with bad population management. And that this problem and those of deforestation and urbanization will continue to happen, even with a population stopped. He’s certainly got a point.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The magazine calls guests to state their opinions. Mr. Robert Engelmann was one of them and he criticized a certain overconfidence on the capacity of future science to solve problems. According to him this is a risky bet with very high stakes. He emphasizes that we might solve that problem of climate change within this century. Otherwise we are likely – and literally - cooked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Not surprisingly, the motion won for a landslide. Four out of five people agreed that we are too many – and that we must somehow solve that problem. How and when, and possibly where – those will probably be themes for next debates!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3391589313454241266?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3391589313454241266/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/overpopulation-economist-debates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3391589313454241266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3391589313454241266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/09/overpopulation-economist-debates.html' title='Overpopulation - The Economist debates'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sph-9GwZtgI/AAAAAAAAAJU/P-7rJ5dcBUM/s72-c/overpopulation.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-2592793611415007160</id><published>2009-08-31T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T14:52:00.686-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia Francesa Medieval'/><title type='text'>ALEXANDRINOS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sn3z4EJDgAI/AAAAAAAAAH8/5fb3grLM8zw/s1600-h/troubadours.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sn3z4EJDgAI/AAAAAAAAAH8/5fb3grLM8zw/s320/troubadours.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367714475405443074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Michel Zink na &lt;i style=""&gt;Littérature française du Moyen Age&lt;/i&gt; (Paris, PUF, 2001) nos fala de um &lt;i style=""&gt;Roman D´Alexandre&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i style=""&gt;best-seller&lt;/i&gt; dos anos 1100, um relato largamente fictício da vida do Imperador da Macedônia. É a cereja na ponta de uma genealogia de relatos sobre o tema, todas tendo como base um texto anônimo do século II a.C. cujo autor é conhecido como pseudo-Calístenes. Dele derivou uma fieira de resumos, aumentos e adaptações e plágios como a &lt;i style=""&gt;Res gestae Alexandri Macedonis &lt;/i&gt;de Julius Valerius&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;do século IV d.C., compendiada numa &lt;i style=""&gt;Epítome&lt;/i&gt; do sec. IX, mesma época em que o arcipreste Leão de Nápoles escrevia uma &lt;i style=""&gt;Nativitas et Victoria Alexandri Magni&lt;/i&gt; que por sua vez foi fonte de uma &lt;i style=""&gt;Historia de Preliis&lt;/i&gt; de vivo sucesso. Há outros textos como &lt;i style=""&gt;A carta de Alexandre a Aristóteles sobre as maravilhas da Índia&lt;/i&gt;. Alberico de Pisançon escreveu em franco-provençal um &lt;i style=""&gt;Alexandre&lt;/i&gt; dos quais nos restam 105 versos octossílabos, uma pouco antes de um certo Alexandre de Paris escrever uma longo &lt;i style=""&gt;Roman d ´Alexandre &lt;/i&gt;em versos rimados de doze pés.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Em homenagem a este obscuro poeta medieval, os versos de doze sílabas são chamados &lt;i style=""&gt;Alexandrinos&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-2592793611415007160?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/2592793611415007160/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/alexandrinos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2592793611415007160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2592793611415007160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/alexandrinos.html' title='ALEXANDRINOS'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sn3z4EJDgAI/AAAAAAAAAH8/5fb3grLM8zw/s72-c/troubadours.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-935317148736875357</id><published>2009-08-28T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T06:00:02.304-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Mankind failed - Turks and Caicos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SpC1v1uAHfI/AAAAAAAAAJM/x34ScdJomxw/s1600-h/Turks-and-Caicos.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 256px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372994188931505650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SpC1v1uAHfI/AAAAAAAAAJM/x34ScdJomxw/s320/Turks-and-Caicos.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;It´s official, now. Mankind failed. Not exactly official, but quite. In Turks and Caicos that sad truth has been established. Never heard of? They are a tiny nation-island of the Caribbean. Or, they were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We usually think of cruelty, insensibility, egoism and corruption as a side-effect of the enlargement of countries and societies by itself. People don´t know each other so they don´t care about each other. More dramatically, they strive to make everyone’s life a hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now think of a nation, a whole nation, as small as half of Rio de Janeiro. In territory, not population. Its population is around a fourth of Copacabana´s. With a country like that, everyone could know each other. All would be acquaintances. Or friends. The chief of government could stroll among the few streets with, say, a bicycle. The house of Government could be a house, not much bigger then the others around it. People could talk freely with their chief and solve all problems at once. Foreigners would feel the peace and friendship and have the wish to come back. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turks and Caicos had the dubious honor of being the object of a small note of The Economist, August edition. The British retook control of the islands after repeated reports of corruption. There is strong evidence that the Prime Ministers used to take bribes, buy votes, sell public land to friends at small prices, and subsequently re-sell it to foreign entrepreneurs. Hotels and Condos now crowd the island. Worse still, the last British report says something about a palpable climate of fear. Just like anyplace else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, a tiny nation-island with a tiny population with beautiful beaches could be a micro-paradise – and a showcase of the world might be. Curiously it would worth a lot. Who won’t pay to vacation in a no-stress beautiful place? But the government and the people prefer to spoil everything for the immediate advantage of a minority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, the problem is note the size, not the lack of face-to-face knowledge. The guys of Turks and Caicos knew each other and – so what? The true source of the problem is – I don’t know what it is. I only know that Mankind failed – in a handful of white-sanded beaches in the Caribbean Sea.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-935317148736875357?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/935317148736875357/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/mankind-failed-turks-and-caicos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/935317148736875357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/935317148736875357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/mankind-failed-turks-and-caicos.html' title='Mankind failed - Turks and Caicos'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SpC1v1uAHfI/AAAAAAAAAJM/x34ScdJomxw/s72-c/Turks-and-Caicos.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-6571027730974259744</id><published>2009-08-27T02:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T02:44:00.424-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia Francesa Medieval'/><title type='text'>Sensuais Medievas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/So0bDaIhKuI/AAAAAAAAAJE/uf1Cd6JV9wU/s1600-h/sensualidade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/So0bDaIhKuI/AAAAAAAAAJE/uf1Cd6JV9wU/s320/sensualidade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371979675891477218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} h1 	{mso-style-next:Normal; 	margin-top:12.0pt; 	margin-right:0cm; 	margin-bottom:3.0pt; 	margin-left:0cm; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	page-break-after:avoid; 	mso-outline-level:1; 	font-size:16.0pt; 	font-family:Arial; 	mso-font-kerning:16.0pt;} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;h1 style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Poesia Francesa Medieval – A Sensualidade das Mulheres&lt;/h1&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;A sensualidade feminina não nasceu com a mini-saia nos sessenta. Nem com os óculos das feministas nos cinqüenta. Michel Zink no seu “Littérature Française de Moyen Age” (PUF, 2001) nos dá uns drops de que a mulher na Idade Média não correspondia a essa imagem de assim chamada pureza que temos da assim chamada mulher de antigamente.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;“O toi qui est brun, ô delices des yeux ! Qui pourra supporter l´absence, mon ami ? » &lt;/span&gt;Tu que és moreno, quem lhe poderá suportar a ausência, meu amigo ?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mulheres medievais cantavam, poetavam, dedilhavam antepassados do violão. Bem diferente das máquinas de sofrer e fazer menino que pesamos terem sido. E faziam proezas de humilhar atriz de filme erótico:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Eu te amarei tanto, mas à condição que tu juntes minhas argolas dos meus pés aos meus brincos.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Posição aham bem curiosa. As &lt;i style=""&gt;trobairitz&lt;/i&gt; fazem do mito feminino criado pelos românticos exatamente o que é, um mito.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Como gostaria de meu cavaleiro ter&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Uma noite entre meus braços nu”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Parabéns àquelas mulheres talentosas e sensuais do século XII. (op. cit, pp122-123).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-6571027730974259744?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/6571027730974259744/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/sensuais-medievas.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/6571027730974259744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/6571027730974259744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/sensuais-medievas.html' title='Sensuais Medievas'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/So0bDaIhKuI/AAAAAAAAAJE/uf1Cd6JV9wU/s72-c/sensualidade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-5815155261018632011</id><published>2009-08-26T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T19:30:00.160-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poemas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resenha'/><title type='text'>ALUCINAÇÃO, de Anderson Fonseca (poemas)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Soy1qSG4u2I/AAAAAAAAAI0/NiDX3p2sHvE/s1600-h/alucina%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 94px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Soy1qSG4u2I/AAAAAAAAAI0/NiDX3p2sHvE/s320/alucina%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371868193566014306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PersonName"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink 	{color:blue; 	text-decoration:underline; 	text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed 	{color:purple; 	text-decoration:underline; 	text-underline:single;} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;FONSECA, Anderson. &lt;u&gt;Alucinação.&lt;/u&gt; Rio: Multifoco, 2009. 43p. &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.escritosdo-exilio.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.escritosdo-exilio.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Do livro de poemas do Anderson me chamaram a atenção três.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Na pg 17 o poema “Stalingrado” merecia um trabalho visual. Talvez dos trabalhos visuais de poesia sonora, do tipo que o próprio autor faz com o também poeta Márcio-André. O tema é conhecido em nossas letras. Drummond tem poema celebérrimo sobre a mesma cidade. Mas é a visão do autor, e acho que um trabalho visual pegaria muito bem aqui.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Na pg. 29 o “Invocação de Fuasto “ também manda ver. Gostei da primeira estrofe, onde há o verso: “Quem dentre os homens e os anjos, se sou maior que todos?”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Na pp39-40 o poema Filosofia da Renúncia derrama erudição, à &lt;st1:personname productid="la Borges. De" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:personname productid="la Borges." st="on"&gt;la Borges.&lt;/st1:personname&gt; De&lt;/st1:personname&gt; Runeberg a Ezequias, de Shakespeare a Freud, “escolha de Fausto e tormenta de MacBeth”, termina. É outro ponto alto.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-5815155261018632011?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/5815155261018632011/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/alucinacao-de-anderson-fonseca-poemas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5815155261018632011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5815155261018632011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/alucinacao-de-anderson-fonseca-poemas.html' title='ALUCINAÇÃO, de Anderson Fonseca (poemas)'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Soy1qSG4u2I/AAAAAAAAAI0/NiDX3p2sHvE/s72-c/alucina%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-4060722981780499707</id><published>2009-08-25T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T19:35:00.294-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poemas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Resenha'/><title type='text'>Todas as vozes cantam, de Leandro Jardim (poemas)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Soy2vyH3vJI/AAAAAAAAAI8/DHN2g9KZY4U/s1600-h/todasvozes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Soy2vyH3vJI/AAAAAAAAAI8/DHN2g9KZY4U/s320/todasvozes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371869387571051666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype style="font-weight: bold;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="metricconverter"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;JARDIM, Leandro. &lt;u&gt;Todas as vozes cantam.&lt;/u&gt; Rio: 7 Letras, 2008. 91p. (http://florespragasesementes.blogspot.com/)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; .&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Do livro de poemas do Leandro me chamaram a atenção vários.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; .&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Na pg 9 o “Presente do Subjetivo” é um bom poema, “sou meio esponja meio pilha alcalina”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; .&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Um quase infanto-juvenil na pg 18: Joaninhas de Copacabana/ não lhes digo mentira / se eu fosse menina / também me chamava Joaninha. O currículo na pg 23 é bem Leminski: “Logo canso,/ meia-volta,/ vai ver,/ me manco”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; .&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Um tema comum na vida e pouco visitado na escrita é o das eternas discussões, em todos os lugares. “Já eu, sei o que é bom/ aos outros combato com opinião.” Lembra Ortega y Gasset dizendo que a opinião é o avesso da cultura. “Controversos – p62-&lt;st1:metricconverter productid="63”" st="on"&gt;63”&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; .&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O poema “Alheio” p65 afirma precisar da leitura, uma obviedade que poucos escritores confessam. “Por isso escrevo, /pois alguém pode ler depois”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; .&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Na pg 69, “O Letrista Novo” pergunta se gostar de um poema “É amar cada linha./ ou a marca de um pedaço?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; .&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Para mim é a segunda alternativa! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-4060722981780499707?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/4060722981780499707/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/todas-as-vozes-cantam-de-leandro-jardim.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4060722981780499707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4060722981780499707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/todas-as-vozes-cantam-de-leandro-jardim.html' title='Todas as vozes cantam, de Leandro Jardim (poemas)'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Soy2vyH3vJI/AAAAAAAAAI8/DHN2g9KZY4U/s72-c/todasvozes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3157517777934134837</id><published>2009-08-24T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T13:56:00.358-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia Francesa Medieval'/><title type='text'>LANCELOTE, O CONQUISTADOR DE CORAÇÕES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sn3muuGF-6I/AAAAAAAAAH0/b5SbhQYCpDY/s1600-h/king-arthur-tapestry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sn3muuGF-6I/AAAAAAAAAH0/b5SbhQYCpDY/s320/king-arthur-tapestry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367700021217459106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;CHRÉTIEN de Troyes. “Lancelote, o cavaleiro da Charrete”. In: &lt;u&gt;Romances da Távola Redonda&lt;/u&gt;. São Paulo: Martins Fontes, 1998. 301p. (Coleção Ghandara). Pp119-198.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lamentamos e com razão a grande biblioteca dos livros nunca escritos, os romances temporões dos escritores mortos de alcoolismo aos trinta e as peças teatrais dos poetas que a crítica levou a nunca escrever nenhuma. E os manuais de como conquistar as mulheres. O talvez melhor deles, e que nunca foi escrito, teria sido de Lancelote do Lago, cavaleiro do Rei Artur.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mais que cavaleiro. Lancelote destruiu corações e virgindades e teria deixado diríamos hoje um rastro de lágrimas, declarações de amor, telefonemas de madrugada e roupas íntimas femininas atiradas longe pelas proprietárias.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Certo, por incrível, o ambiente saturava de sensualidade. Chrétien de Troyes escreveu-o &lt;i style=""&gt;por ordem&lt;/i&gt; da princesa: &lt;i style=""&gt;Minha senhora de Champagne quer que eu empreenda um romance&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;i style=""&gt; &lt;/i&gt;Maria de Champagne era filha de Leonor da Aquitânia, que deveria ser declarada a padroeira das mulheres &lt;i style=""&gt;sexies&lt;/i&gt;. Sensualíssima, a princesa Leonor entrara em Antioquia com os magníficos seios nus, acompanhada de doze aias todas lindas e todas de seios igualmente nus para comemorar a tomada da cidade. E a soldadescada de olho arregalado, podendo-se ouvir até um zumbido de mosca. E Leonor era neta de Guilherme IX da Aquitânia, velho fanfarrão, devorador de empregadinhas e servas, sempre derrotado na guerra e se vingando na cama e fazendo versos nos quais se queixava da bobajada do mundo, tout est néant, tudo é nada.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Um mau cavaleiro raptou Guinevere, a rainha. O rei é o rei Artur. Lancelote um de seus cavaleiros. Lancelote como é óbvio ama Guinevere. Vai atrás dela. O marido fica roendo as unhas.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pega carona numa charrete, daí o título do romance. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Lancelote ama desesperadamente Guinevere. Mas quem é de ferro é a armadura, não ele. Encontra um mau cavaleiro, este vinha acompanhado de uma belíssima jovem. O mau cavaleiro o provoca. Lutam. Lancelote o vence. De acordo com as regras da cavalaria, deve matá-lo. Mas a gatinha que acompanha o outro pede piedade. Lancelote diz que devia matá-lo, mas diante disso, vai só aprisioná-lo. E a garota pede que não o aprisione. E o favor não será de graça. Em paga, eu &lt;i style=""&gt;te darei recompensa que te causará grande prazer.&lt;/i&gt; Certo, Lancelote ama Guinevere, é fiel, só pensa nela, tal e etc., mas Guinevere está tão longe...&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Continua seu caminho. Quer abrigo. Encontra uma bela mulher que lhe oferece hospedagem, mas tal como hoje os hotéis já não eram de graça. Ela diz &lt;i style=""&gt;Minha morada está toda preparada para vós, se vos aprouver nela repousar esta noite. Mas só albergareis se deitares comigo. &lt;/i&gt;Não pensemos mal do pobre Lancelote. Ele hesita. Quem não hesita é a garota:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;- &lt;i style=""&gt;Não farei de outra forma.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Faz parte das normas da cavalaria sempre pagar sua hospedagem. E Lancelote pagou a estadia à dona da casa. &lt;i style=""&gt;É uma imposição? Então, que seja! Convém por obrigação que ele vá deitar com a damizela.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Claro, Lancelote chega à rainha cativa. E, bem, ele vai visitá-la em sua cela, e &lt;i style=""&gt;Se é verdade que a rainha amou Lancelote com amor ardente, ele a amou mil e mil vezes mais,&lt;/i&gt; e &lt;i style=""&gt;o jogo do beijo e da carícia é tão doce&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Não viveram felizes para sempre. Alguém esqueceu que Guinevere era casada? E Lancelote, bem, depois, prisioneiro em certo castelo, quis ser liberado para participar de um torneio de cavalaria. A bela e jovem esposa do dono do castelo o liberaria, mas só mediante certo pagamento, que era... bem, uma vez Lancelote, sempre Lancelote. Participou do torneio.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;E nunca escreveu &lt;i style=""&gt;Meus segredos para conquistar as mulheres¸ best-seller &lt;/i&gt;mundial. &lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3157517777934134837?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3157517777934134837/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/lancelote-o-conquistador-de-coracoes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3157517777934134837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3157517777934134837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/lancelote-o-conquistador-de-coracoes.html' title='LANCELOTE, O CONQUISTADOR DE CORAÇÕES'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sn3muuGF-6I/AAAAAAAAAH0/b5SbhQYCpDY/s72-c/king-arthur-tapestry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3865788713381226413</id><published>2009-08-21T02:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T02:48:00.597-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>A filosofia do Dr. Caligari</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xrg73BUxJLI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xrg73BUxJLI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Já ouvira falar. Comprovei. Este filme embala (“That movie rocks!”) Começa pelo nome: “Das” porque é neutro; “dês” porque é dativo. E o alemão conserva esta característica do latim, a marcação do pertencimento se dá pela terminação da palavra e não pelo acréscimo de uma reposição como acontece na maioria das línguas modernas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;“Das Kabinett des Dr. Caligari” – O Gabinete do Dr. Caligari.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Um monge andava pelas feiras da Itália com um sonâmbulo pouco depois do ano mil. Assustava o mundo. Certo médico fazia o mesmo no começo do sec. XX numa pequena cidade alemã. Cesare seu sonâmbulo previa o futuro. Crimes sem solução começaram  a fazer marca na cidade. Cidade torcida, escura-clara, de cenários obviamente cenários e mais reais que muito filmequinho ruliudiano de hoje. Um pouco da filosofia de Caligari:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;13´- "Quanto tempo viverei?" "Morrerá pela manhã", diz Cesare ao rapaz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;18´- "Há algo aterrorizante em nosso meio"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;42´- "Eu vou me tornar Caligari" – o médico enlouquece com seu nome aparecendo em volta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;49´- "Ele é Caligari, o homem que planeja nosso fim!".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3865788713381226413?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3865788713381226413/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/filosofia-do-dr-caligari.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3865788713381226413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3865788713381226413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/filosofia-do-dr-caligari.html' title='A filosofia do Dr. Caligari'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-5697545134615288489</id><published>2009-08-20T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T10:00:01.459-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura Medieval'/><title type='text'>O amor deseja – III/III – O Fino Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoN-F3BNTGI/AAAAAAAAAIs/z8w3Ug7qxAk/s1600-h/idade-media6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 237px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoN-F3BNTGI/AAAAAAAAAIs/z8w3Ug7qxAk/s320/idade-media6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369273819889224802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Os contemporâneos chamaram de Fin´amor aquilo que o século XIX conheceria como Amor Cortês. Muito ligado à Cortesia, é certo. O Fin´amor rompeu com os costumes da época, as posições da Igreja e mesmo com as crenças amorosas da Antigüidade. O Fin´amor põe a mulher lá em cima, num pedestal. Ela é a domina, dame, senhora. O amante se submete a seus caprichos para merecer os favores que ela concede ou retira livremente. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O Fin´amor identifica amor e desejo. A saciedade mata o amor. Há um conflito entre o amor propriamente dito e o amor do amor, o desejo do desejo. Quantas vezes não ouvimos que Fulana não ama, ela ama estar apaixonada? O amor mistura exaltação e sofrimento e os Troubadours tinham para isso uma palavra própria, Joi.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O casamento portanto mata o Amor. Pois a saciedade é quase imediata e o Fin´amor vive de obstáculos. Não pode nem ser tão fácil de ser obtido nem impossível, pois o Fin´amor não é platônico. Ao contrário, em muitas narrações as amadas depois de muitas provas concedem favores bem físicos a seus amados.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Portanto a Amada é quase sempre casada com outro. O casamento com o amante tiraria desta a qualidade de Senhora. O amante deve merecer o Amor, e não poder exigi-lo. A condição de casada com outro por si só já estabelece dificuldades bem convenientes ao Fin´amor. E por outro lado a mulher deve ser de um ranque social superior ao homem. Ele não pode exigir. Ela tem de doar, ou melhor, pode doar. Daí a Joi.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;Ver: Michel Zink&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;na “Littérature française do Moyen Age” (PUF, 2001, pp 99-104)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-5697545134615288489?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/5697545134615288489/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-amor-deseja-iiiiii-o-fino-amor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5697545134615288489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5697545134615288489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-amor-deseja-iiiiii-o-fino-amor.html' title='O amor deseja – III/III – O Fino Amor'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoN-F3BNTGI/AAAAAAAAAIs/z8w3Ug7qxAk/s72-c/idade-media6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3632997313142454837</id><published>2009-08-19T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T10:00:01.312-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura Medieval'/><title type='text'>O amor deseja – II/III - Corteses</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoN9iEDlvDI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Crxwdak5hBc/s1600-h/idade-media5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoN9iEDlvDI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Crxwdak5hBc/s320/idade-media5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369273204913585202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Os Troubadours não inventaram a cortesia mas estavam muito ligados a ela. Cortesia era nobreza de coração. Era não ser ávido, ganancioso. Era ter conhecimento das formas de polidez. Ser à vontade na sociedade sofisticada mas também ser capaz da caça e da guerra. Conhecer as sutilezas da conversa e da poesia. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cortês, cortes. Cortes mais senhorias que propriamente reais. O trovadorismo provençal floresceu nas cortes de senhores e senhoretes do hoje Sul da França, a chamada região do Meio-dia. Uma sociedade medieval, hierárquica. O contrário do cortês era o mesquinho, apegado, ávido de lucro. E apegado com cupidez ao que Le mais possui ou pensa possuir: sua mulher. Ele é o vilão. O dicionário Petit Robert o diz: Vilão era o camponês livre, que não era servo. Vivia em vilas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mas nossa máquina do tempo ainda atolou no século XII. Procuremos os corteses.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;Ver: Michel Zink&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;na “Littérature française do Moyen Age” (PUF, 2001, pp 99-104)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3632997313142454837?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3632997313142454837/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-amor-deseja-iiiii-corteses.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3632997313142454837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3632997313142454837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-amor-deseja-iiiii-corteses.html' title='O amor deseja – II/III - Corteses'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoN9iEDlvDI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Crxwdak5hBc/s72-c/idade-media5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3149825213558665448</id><published>2009-08-18T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T06:00:01.550-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura Medieval'/><title type='text'>O amor deseja – I/III - Troubadors</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoN9DlzDIGI/AAAAAAAAAIc/QhezS8Jp1A0/s1600-h/idade-media4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoN9DlzDIGI/AAAAAAAAAIc/QhezS8Jp1A0/s320/idade-media4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369272681395069026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Deseja mas não sacia. A autoridade não mais existe, os ricos literalmente se encastelam, não mais há quem conserte as estradas, as pontes caem. E nisso a literatura anterior quase se esquece. Foi a situação na chamada Alta Idade Média, depois do fim da também chamada Idade Clássica. Quando a sociedade reuniu um conforto suficiente para pensar em arte, esta (quase) teve de ser recriada, lá depois da virada do ano Mil.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Só Deus explica porque na parte mais pobre da França de hoje que a literatura se foi ressurgir. No chamado hoje Midi, Meio-dia, sabe-se lá por que. Na sua língua o Sim se falava Oc. Assim como na parte de cima da hoje França o Sim se dizia Oil, Oui hoje. A língua de cima virou o que chamamos de Francês. A parte de baixo era falada na Província Narbonensis, o nome caiu e ficou só o província, daí o nome Provençal, hoje língua de minoria. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Em provençal escreveram os primeiros poetas pós-clássicos. Eram os Troubadours, aqueles que aspas achavam formas novas. Em francês hoje Trouver é Achar. Em provençal escreveu o mulherengo e amargo Guilherme IX, duque da Aquitânia, o primeiro dos Troubadours.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;Ver: Michel Zink&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;na “Littérature française do Moyen Age” (PUF, 2001, pp 99-104)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3149825213558665448?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3149825213558665448/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-amor-deseja-iiii-troubadors.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3149825213558665448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3149825213558665448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-amor-deseja-iiii-troubadors.html' title='O amor deseja – I/III - Troubadors'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoN9DlzDIGI/AAAAAAAAAIc/QhezS8Jp1A0/s72-c/idade-media4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-8876507409663150904</id><published>2009-08-17T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T11:54:00.331-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia Francesa Medieval'/><title type='text'>CLIGES, OU A CORNAGEM É ETERNA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sn3KaotaGfI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6isptGnhcWs/s1600-h/cavaleiros+medievais.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sn3KaotaGfI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6isptGnhcWs/s320/cavaleiros+medievais.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367668889848781298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chrétien de Troyes não é o Cretino de Tróia, na verdade isso nem é um nome. Um dos maiores escritores da tradição do Ocidente não teve nome, ou não é conhecido por ele. Chrétien não é nada, significa apenas que o dono desse apelido era um cristão. Troyes era a cidade. Cidade de indícios industriais, como outras na Flandres. Região metalúrgica que fabricava uma chapa de metal fininha ainda hoje conhecida como folha de... Flandres. Troyes era mais aristocrática. Nas páginas de cotações de mercadorias ainda hoje se vê o preço do ouro, em onça troy. Troy, Troyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chrétien viveu nos anos 1100 quando as línguas que hoje chamamos neolatinas faziam sua difícil transição da oralidade para a forma escrita, e da poesia para a prosa. Na coletânea de seus Romances da Távola Redonda (Martins Fontes, 1998) o seu romance Cliges ou a que fingiu de morta consta em segundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cliges rompe com cânones e se instaura moderno e isso não é lugar-comum. Pois toca na temática básica do grande romance Machadiano e Flaubertiano e na música brega, o chifre, a cornagem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jovens gregos do Império de Constantinopla vão à procura de ser armados cavaleiros pelo rei Artur. Entre eles, Alexandre, o filho do Imperador. Ele se apaixona por Soredamor, a aia da rainha. Mas ambos resistem ao encanto do amor. Depois se entregam um ao outro. O Imperador de Constantinopla morre e Alis usurpa o trono. É o irmão mais novo de Alexandre. Este vai recuperar seus direitos e entra em acordo com Alis. Alis será o Imperador, mas não se casará. Depois que morrer o trono passará para o filho de Alexandre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alexandre e Soredamor têm um filho, Cliges. Seus pais morrem e ele vai viver em Constantinopla com seu tio Alis após a morte dos pais. Este rompe o acordo e vai casar com a filha do Imperador da Alemanha. A filha se chama Fenice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fenice empalidece e tem calafrios não por gripe suína nem pelo futuro marido mas pelo belo jovem da corte de Alis. Confessa tudo a Tessala, sua aia e cúmplice. Tessala convenientemente é feiticeira, da Tessália, terra da Grécia com fama medieval de feitiçaria. Fenice prefere pegar a morte ou o vírus H1N1 a ter de se entregar ao maridão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tessala dá uma mãozinha, ou um filtro mágico que fará com que o grande Imperador literalmente durma na noite de núpcias. E no seu sono ele sonhará fazer com Fenice o que casou para fazer. Acordará pensando ter realizado proezas de envergonhar qualquer ator de filme erótico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feito e dito. Todos os dias o Imperador acordava feliz. E Fenice mais virgem que heroína de novela mexicana. Antes do casamento com o filho do industrial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem disse que só a Bíblia e a Constituição podem ter abstrusas interpretações? Interpretemos. Este assim chamado filtro mágico não seria me-tá-fo-ra do chamado homem traído mas feliz? E não se diminua isso. Metade das vendagens de CDs inclusive piratas de nossa música popularesca dependem desse personagem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O pobre Imperador "Nada beija, nada enlaça, nada estreita e nada abraça, nada vê e fala a nada." Mas curte. Não seria uma delicada menção aos aham prazeres solitários aos que o Imperador talvez se entregasse, já que Fenice lhe negava os principais?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claro, negar o presente ao Imperador é só parte. Resta dá-lo a quem ela quer. E Fenice o faz. Sob uma árvore dormem Fenice e Cliges, juntos, nuzinhos e castos. Castos naquele momento. Alguns minutos antes, nem um pouco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E ainda dizem que os temas se repetem. Não se repetem. São atores que nunca saem do palco. A platéia não quer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-8876507409663150904?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/8876507409663150904/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/cliges-ou-cornagem-e-eterna.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8876507409663150904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/8876507409663150904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/cliges-ou-cornagem-e-eterna.html' title='CLIGES, OU A CORNAGEM É ETERNA'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Sn3KaotaGfI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6isptGnhcWs/s72-c/cavaleiros+medievais.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-158284629515089972</id><published>2009-08-14T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T06:00:03.001-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teoria da Literatura'/><title type='text'>Poesia e prosa – III/III (exaustividade da prosa)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoNsXL3vs1I/AAAAAAAAAIU/tRSXktROYX4/s1600-h/idade-media3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoNsXL3vs1I/AAAAAAAAAIU/tRSXktROYX4/s320/idade-media3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369254326335157074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;A prosa tem horror do vazio. O poeta Paul Valéry dizia que nunca escreveria um romance para não ter de escrever coisas como “A Marquesa chegará às quatro horas”. A exaustividade parindo a banalidade: desde que a prosa passou a semi-monopolizar a narração em fins da Idade Média a sua característica básica já era esgotar o assunto. A prosa em certo sentido não confia no contexto nem no leitor: ela tudo explicita, desde a sucessão dos eventos até os gestos de polidez banal ou as frases bobocas que Valéry detestava.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;Ver: Michel Zink&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;na “Littérature française do Moyen Age” (PUF, 2001)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-158284629515089972?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/158284629515089972/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/poesia-e-prosa-iiiiii-exaustividade-da.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/158284629515089972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/158284629515089972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/poesia-e-prosa-iiiiii-exaustividade-da.html' title='Poesia e prosa – III/III (exaustividade da prosa)'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoNsXL3vs1I/AAAAAAAAAIU/tRSXktROYX4/s72-c/idade-media3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-6833361993351241072</id><published>2009-08-13T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T18:26:00.597-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teoria da Literatura'/><title type='text'>Poesia e prosa – II/III (definições medievais)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoNr0J8e-nI/AAAAAAAAAIM/JkInkGybz3M/s1600-h/idade-media2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoNr0J8e-nI/AAAAAAAAAIM/JkInkGybz3M/s320/idade-media2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369253724522740338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O Bispo Isidoro da cidade de Sevilha mil e quinhentos anos do Papa declará-lo padroeiro da Internet já definia o que é Prosa. É um discurso estendido e liberado da lei do metro. Os Antigos já chamavam de prosum, vindo de prorsum, aquilo que se estende em linha reta. É um discurso que não se escande, mas que se desenvolve direito (oratio recta). Já outros dizem que vem de sua abundância, de profusa, um discurso amplo.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;As duas idéias se chocam, ou quase sempre. Se é direito, tende a ser conciso. Mas é profuso, portanto longo. De qualquer forma elas são subjacentes á idéia de que a prosa é um discurso natural, especialmente o lugar natural da narração. Desde o final da Idade Média a prosa tem o quase monopólio da narração, enquanto a poesia aos poucos se encastelava em formas fixas, como o soneto.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;A métrica de Isidoro era métrica clássica – a alternância entre sílabas longas e breves. Com a mudança do latim os ouvidos já não distinguiam tal alternância. A prosa pode então ser concebida como todo discurso que escapa a tal métrica. O que não é tão distante da definição de Isidoro.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FR"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Ver: Michel Zink  na “Littérature française do Moyen Age” (PUF, 2001)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-6833361993351241072?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/6833361993351241072/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/poesia-e-prosa-iiiii-definicoes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/6833361993351241072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/6833361993351241072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/poesia-e-prosa-iiiii-definicoes.html' title='Poesia e prosa – II/III (definições medievais)'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoNr0J8e-nI/AAAAAAAAAIM/JkInkGybz3M/s72-c/idade-media2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-2049445738939474878</id><published>2009-08-12T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:24:57.288-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teoria da Literatura'/><title type='text'>Poesia e prosa – I/III</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoNrFeM456I/AAAAAAAAAIE/y70XLnvSjXw/s1600-h/idade-media1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoNrFeM456I/AAAAAAAAAIE/y70XLnvSjXw/s320/idade-media1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369252922506405794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} h1 	{mso-style-next:Normal; 	margin-top:12.0pt; 	margin-right:0cm; 	margin-bottom:3.0pt; 	margin-left:0cm; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	page-break-after:avoid; 	mso-outline-level:1; 	font-size:16.0pt; 	font-family:Arial; 	mso-font-kerning:16.0pt;} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;h1 style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Poesia e prosa – I/III&lt;/h1&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;(a anterioridade da poesia)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;A natureza não fez a prosa. Dito por outra, a prosa não é espontânea, não mais que a poesia seria artificial. Michel Zink&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;na “Littérature française do Moyen Age” (PUF, 2001) nos dá raciocínio válido não só para a literatura francesa como para as outras. A poesia surge antes da prosa, em todas as línguas. Pois a poesia é muito mais ligada à oralidade, ao canto. A prosa só se desenvolve quando uma língua atinge certo grau de consciência de seus recursos expressivos. A prosa não se confunde com a função meramente comunicativa da linguagem, se é que isso existe. Nem com a oralidade. Ela é conseqüência da escrita.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;A prosa grega só apareceu no século VI a.C. quando a escrita grega já contava alguns séculos. A prosa latina e a francesa também são posteriores à escrita. O desenvolvimento da prosa também está ligado a certo tipo de leitura e a certo tipo de livro. E o surgimento da prosa faz com que uma série de expressões literárias até então vistas como distintas se vejam todas amarradas sob o cinturão apertado do nome de Poesia.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-2049445738939474878?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/2049445738939474878/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/poesia-e-prosa-iiii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2049445738939474878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/2049445738939474878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/poesia-e-prosa-iiii.html' title='Poesia e prosa – I/III'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SoNrFeM456I/AAAAAAAAAIE/y70XLnvSjXw/s72-c/idade-media1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-5862005581903686597</id><published>2009-08-11T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T06:00:00.841-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>O SÉTIMO SELO: um filme soturno</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O cavaleiro Antonius Block volta das Cruzadas. Foi para combater por Deus. Mas lá perdeu a fé que Deus exista. E agora quer comprovar isso.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4M3AQMHRufY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4M3AQMHRufY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;A peste se espalha pela região. E a morte persegue a todos, nele personificada num homem que com quem joga xadrez.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na busca pelo sentido da vida o soturno Antonius Block é secundado pelo escudeiro Jons, para quem a vida não tem sentido, homem grosseiro mas que ajuda os que estão em necessidade. E também um casal de saltimbancos e seu filho, com quem o cavaleiro tem contato com as coisas simples da vida.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Suécia sempre foi país de ricos. Em 1957 era mais ainda. E um sueco faz um filme desses. Por isso que o cavaleiro Antonius Block não conseguia entender a natureza humana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-5862005581903686597?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/5862005581903686597/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-setimo-selo-um-filme-soturno.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5862005581903686597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5862005581903686597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-setimo-selo-um-filme-soturno.html' title='O SÉTIMO SELO: um filme soturno'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-4856341660390092744</id><published>2009-08-10T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T18:22:00.563-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Français'/><title type='text'>Pollution!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SnuCRXc_m9I/AAAAAAAAAHk/IQoT996jfok/s1600-h/image_article.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 185px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SnuCRXc_m9I/AAAAAAAAAHk/IQoT996jfok/s320/image_article.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367026615807089618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Et la poluition a-t-elle arrivé a l´ambience sous- marin! Mes congratulations à l´especie humaine ! Les Clés Junior de cette semaine le dit. Nous polluons la mer même. Pas seulement la pollution « traditionel » mais la pollution amphibie, bien sûr ! Voilá le progrès !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les recherches le disent : depuis un demi-siècle l´intenisté sonore de la mer a augmenté de dix decibels. Les responsables sont les canons a l´air comprimé et les sonars marins. Et les principales victimes sont les baleines, que ne pouvent plus s´orienter avec les sons qu élles émettent. Toujours les humaines...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.lesclesjunior.com/rubriques/monde/pollution/le-mot-du-jour-tintamarre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-4856341660390092744?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/4856341660390092744/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/pollution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4856341660390092744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4856341660390092744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/pollution.html' title='Pollution!'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SnuCRXc_m9I/AAAAAAAAAHk/IQoT996jfok/s72-c/image_article.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-3870470376862313211</id><published>2009-08-07T16:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T16:58:34.693-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ho Chi Minh'/><title type='text'>Na Trilha de Ho Chi Minh</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-26b0820bec719abc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D26b0820bec719abc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330064994%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D162AC20A3C3F76CEF9FDAA9EAA201FC56ABA70BA.6DF9246EDA37C684D00FFB4D0EBE021A046EA8B3%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D26b0820bec719abc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DTnwVjJl4YpOYV-4CjUS2MvFu23E&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D26b0820bec719abc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330064994%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D162AC20A3C3F76CEF9FDAA9EAA201FC56ABA70BA.6DF9246EDA37C684D00FFB4D0EBE021A046EA8B3%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D26b0820bec719abc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DTnwVjJl4YpOYV-4CjUS2MvFu23E&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Começo uma busca. Um rapaz magro, oriental, baixo, falava manso como uma freira e pesava como uma mosca. Falava de Revolução, Marx, Lênin e emancipação do proletariado como um quiantanista que entrega uma flor e diz eu te amo à coleguinha de saia plissada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ho Chi Minh não falava de si, só de políticas e revoluções. Antes de se tornar famoso, pouco sabemos dele. E sabemos que esteve no Brasil. No Rio, e dizem que em São Paulo, em 1914 ou 1915, dizem. Tudo dizem. Eu o procuro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procuro o homenzinho que botou americanos, franceses e japoneses para correr. Ele esteve nesta cidade em que estou, 95 antes de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você o viu?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-3870470376862313211?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=26b0820bec719abc&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/3870470376862313211/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/na-trilha-de-ho-chi-minh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3870470376862313211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/3870470376862313211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/na-trilha-de-ho-chi-minh.html' title='Na Trilha de Ho Chi Minh'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-4667635047764267301</id><published>2009-08-06T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T18:29:58.803-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>HYPOCRITICAL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Snt5Zz_AzdI/AAAAAAAAAHc/foSEY7587YI/s1600-h/D3209FB1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 193px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Snt5Zz_AzdI/AAAAAAAAAHc/foSEY7587YI/s320/D3209FB1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367016865300270546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-weight: bold;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Mr. Kafka sprouts from last Internet issue of The Economist. Or least his taste for the absurd. It start out almost poetically, with a beautiful teenager indulging herself in kissing and sucking the phallus of another teenager, a school classmate, in a dark room. Nobody else supposed to see it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;But someone did. And a nightmare followed. The girl was Wendy. The boy was three weeks shy from turning sixteen. Those three weeks made Wendy a criminal. Misinformed about her rights, she pleaded guilty in a trial, and was sentenced to report weekly to an officer. She is not very organized and failed to do that a couple times and was imprisoned for a whole year, with murderers in the same jail.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Even after that the ordeal continues. Her name appears in Kafkaneske public registry of sex offenders, along with her address and her photography. People run away from her, parents pull their children indoors when she walks by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;It is now thirteen that she had that fatal intimacy with the boy. And still has not been paroled. Thieves and crooks have. What a hypocritical world!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink 	{color:blue; 	text-decoration:underline; 	text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed 	{color:purple; 	text-decoration:underline; 	text-underline:single;} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.economist.com/displaystory.cfm?story_id=14164614"&gt;http://www.economist.com/displaystory.cfm?story_id=14164614&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-4667635047764267301?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/4667635047764267301/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/hypocritical.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4667635047764267301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4667635047764267301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/hypocritical.html' title='HYPOCRITICAL'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/Snt5Zz_AzdI/AAAAAAAAAHc/foSEY7587YI/s72-c/D3209FB1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-7811492392226839762</id><published>2009-08-05T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T19:23:47.886-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>UM POUCO DA FILOSOFIA DE KANE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zyv19bg0scg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zyv19bg0scg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Sempre é tempo de rever o CIDADÃO KANE. Um pouco de sua filosofia:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"Sou rico e tenho propriedades. Se eu não defender os desprivilegiados, virá alguém sem dinheiro e sem propriedades para defendê-los."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;(nesta frase poderia se resumir a política populista de pré-64. Poderia ter sido dita por Getúlio, JK ou Jango.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"Se eu não tivesse sido muito rico, poderia ter sido um grande homem"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"Se a notícia não é grande demais para uma manchete, a manchete a faz grande".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"As pessoas vão pensar o que eu digo para elas pensarem" (poderia ter sido a divisa de Roberto Marinho).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;[E de um amigo sobre Kane:]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"Charles não é brutal. Ele só faz coisas brutais."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-7811492392226839762?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/7811492392226839762/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/um-pouco-da-filosofia-de-kane.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/7811492392226839762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/7811492392226839762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/um-pouco-da-filosofia-de-kane.html' title='UM POUCO DA FILOSOFIA DE KANE'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-161530033414930708</id><published>2009-08-04T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T19:29:44.113-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alemão'/><title type='text'>Músicas noutras línguas - alemão</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6lssHpriZPI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6lssHpriZPI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Capricho bobo, sempre quis aprender alemão. E uma das melhores formas é ouvir música. A gente ouve cada coisa... Mas para aprender, serve. Com vocês...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...as meninas do FräuLein Wunder (Senhorita Maravilha) dizendo suas bobagens. Elas dizem que bricam com fogo ("Wir spielen mit dem Feuer") e que beijam caras que nem conhecem ("Wir knutschen mit Fremden"),e  que saltam do avião sem pára-quedas ("Wir springen aus dem Flugzeug ohne Fallschirm aus"). Meninas, tenham juizo..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-161530033414930708?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/161530033414930708/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/musicas-noutras-linguas-alemao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/161530033414930708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/161530033414930708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/musicas-noutras-linguas-alemao.html' title='Músicas noutras línguas - alemão'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-4324896182710162726</id><published>2009-08-03T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T17:53:00.478-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literatura'/><title type='text'>A PESTE - I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SnTwwQh7azI/AAAAAAAAAHU/seGXvLQJ-_E/s1600-h/peste.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SnTwwQh7azI/AAAAAAAAAHU/seGXvLQJ-_E/s320/peste.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365177767966763826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Na manhã do dia 16 de abril, o Dr. Bernard Rieux sai de seu escritório e encontra um rato morto, na escada.” (p15)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O autor diz que os acontecimentos dessa crônica se produziram numa cidade da Argélia nos anos 40. Podia ter sido em qualquer cidade em 2009. Procure no Orkut a Comunidade Gripe Suína. Tem cem mil pessoas e uma quantidade proporcional de bobagens, remédios de pura superstição, fatalismo, imprecações contra Deus e as autoridades sanitárias, imerecidas ou não. A reação contra as pestes sempre foi a mesma.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“No dia 28 de abril, súbito os ratos desaparecem. O porteiro se sente mal. Tem um nó de madeira no pescoço”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Albert Camus escreveu esse livro em péssimas condições. Ele Ra da Resistência Francesa. Claro que os nazistas nunca souberam. Mas era viver com punhais no pescoço.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Quando um micróbio em três dias pode quadruplicar o tamanho do baço e dar aos gânglios mesentéricos o tamanho de uma laranja... não importa se você o chama de Peste ou de Febre. O que importa é impedir que em dois meses ele mate a metade da cidade.” (p51)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Estamos a primeiro de agosto, e lembro de 45 dias atrás onde os casos de gripe suína eram 16 no país inteiro, e caindo.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Se a epidemia não pára por ela mesma, não serão essas medidas da Administração que a pararão”. (p61)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Fui num Hospital, no dia 24/07/09, para perguntar outra coisa. Vi a sala de espera cheia de gente de máscara.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-4324896182710162726?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/4324896182710162726/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/peste-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4324896182710162726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/4324896182710162726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/peste-i.html' title='A PESTE - I'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SnTwwQh7azI/AAAAAAAAAHU/seGXvLQJ-_E/s72-c/peste.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-5795342214566430593</id><published>2009-08-02T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T18:43:22.363-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Français'/><title type='text'>Les français ne sont pas inférieurs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SpiHoVlgAZI/AAAAAAAAAJc/Fss_uI-i8pQ/s1600-h/metro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 176px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SpiHoVlgAZI/AAAAAAAAAJc/Fss_uI-i8pQ/s320/metro.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375195282325635474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Le Brésil est vraiment um pays inférieur. Imaginez, il y a des vols en plein Métro de Rio. Centaines de vols. Le police ne fait pas grand chose, ils seulement parlent quelque chose sur « difficulté de identification » des voleurs. Et le pire : ils ne sont des voleurs, mais des voleuses ! Prenez-vouz congé de la mesonge de la sensibilité et de la bonté des femmes. Ces grupes de voleuses travaillent en trios, frequentement attaquant d´autres femmes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Mais un moment, s´il vous plaît. C´est n´est pas Rio, c´est Paris!  Le Figaro a fait un grnad reportage sur les centaines de vols au Métro parisienne.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Mais personne alait dire que les français sont inférieurs...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;http://www.lefigaro.fr/actualite-france/2009/08/28/01016-20090828ARTFIG00012-alerte-aux-voleuses-a-la-tire-dans-le-metro-parisien-.php&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/3197415274167829220-5795342214566430593?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/5795342214566430593/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/les-francais-ne-sont-pas-inferieurs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5795342214566430593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5795342214566430593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/08/les-francais-ne-sont-pas-inferieurs.html' title='Les français ne sont pas inférieurs'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SpiHoVlgAZI/AAAAAAAAAJc/Fss_uI-i8pQ/s72-c/metro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-1525766554278303579</id><published>2009-07-30T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T18:11:58.632-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>AINDA SOBRE O BAADER MEINHOF</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SnJEzClOYNI/AAAAAAAAAHM/jrQCEXjIguQ/s1600-h/der-baader-meinhof-komplex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SnJEzClOYNI/AAAAAAAAAHM/jrQCEXjIguQ/s320/der-baader-meinhof-komplex.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364425749808701650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Mandei esta mensagem para A comunidade  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;CEARENSE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;AUDIOVISUAL :&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;E é possível mudar o “paladar” das pessoas, do cinemão ruliudiano e seus clones para outro. Tenho experiência recente.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Nos últimos meses assisti geralmente documentários, geralmente brasileiros, e alguns curtas-metragens. Sem planejar, essa foi minha dieta fílmica.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Soube de um filme alemão sobre o grupo terrorista Baader Meinhof. Fui assisti-lo ontem. Esperava saber mais sobre tal grupo.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Sai do cinema atordoado de tanto tiro, de tanto barulho, adrenalina a ferver em minhas pobres artérias, eu com medo até da calçada.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Eu esperava ter algum conhecimento com tratamento artístico sobre o assunto. Quem eram essas pessoas, sua psicologia, por que fizeram o que fizeram, etc.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Em vez disso o que tive foi uma manipulação barata dos meus instintos humanos de raiva e medo.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Pensei: esse é o cinema de ação ruliudiano, ou de seus clones, no caso. Eu o achava normal, como tantos.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Mas depois de uma dieta de filmes de outro sabor, vi que me desacostumei dele. E ao me chocar com ele de novo, pude perceber o quanto é estranho esse tipo de cinema.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Como eu me acostumei a outro tipo de cinema, muitos podem se acostumar!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Abraços,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Paulo Avelino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-1525766554278303579?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/1525766554278303579/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/07/ainda-sobre-o-baader-meinhof.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1525766554278303579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/1525766554278303579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/07/ainda-sobre-o-baader-meinhof.html' title='AINDA SOBRE O BAADER MEINHOF'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SnJEzClOYNI/AAAAAAAAAHM/jrQCEXjIguQ/s72-c/der-baader-meinhof-komplex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-5527516692042531680</id><published>2009-07-29T18:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T19:06:36.907-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>Filme: O BAADER MEINHOF COMPLEX</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WAyCi4cObmI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WAyCi4cObmI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CPaulo%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt; 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	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Saí do cinema com a adrenalina a ferver em minhas pobres veias. Saí com medo. Acho que o diretor conseguiu seu intento. Medo, bicho acuado, aliviado de ainda estar vivo. E com medo. Os ônibus me enfureciam, até as calçadas queriam me engolir. Ou dar tiros.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Passei três meses assistindo a documentários. Documentários brasileiros. E também curtas-metragens. Assisti sobre o Paulo Vanzolini, sobre cigarro, sobre Wilson Simonal.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;É como o sabor da comida. A gente se acostuma. E eu me desacostumei de filmões ruliúdianos. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O livro “A Jornada do Escritor” diz que o filme-de-ruliúde vem dos contos de fada. Não da literatura de Tolstoi ou Machado, não do grande teatro de Shakespeare. Mas de algo muito mais primitivo. Infantil.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Diz também que filmes devem atingir a muitos. E que as pessoas são muitíssimos diferentes. As pessoas só tem em comum suas emoções básicas de raiva e medo.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O Grupo Baader Meinhof Komplex prometia a mim ser um filme histórico. Quase nada sabia sobre o grupo, queria saber. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;E tive overdose de tiros, barulho, tiros, molho de tomate fingindo ser sangue, tiros. Manipulação de minha adrenalina. Não sei porque diretores se orgulham tanto disso. É tão fácil provocar a secreção da adrenalina. Só fazer um barulho súbito e forte. Fomos programados para isso, para fugir do urro do dinossauro. O cinema apenas reproduz o barulho e projeta cenas de perigo. E nosso corpo obedece. Só que não deve fazer bem a gente ter medos artificiais por duas horas. Ou faz?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Saímos do filme perdendo a conta dos assassinatos. Mas falta a penetração psicológica nas mentes dos personagens, o seu outro-lado, que dá sabor á vida e à arte. Será que Andreas Baader, Ulrike Meinhof e a belíssima Gudrun Esslin eram esses robôs que só repetiam palavras de ordem e matavam? É mais uma idéia conservadora. Quem contesta é maluco. Ainda bem que eu sou normal. (Vejam, saio do cinema e vou comer meu hambúrguer antes de ligar para o Dudu dizendo que vou chegar atrasado no churrasco na casa do Carlinhos.) Eu não sou anormal.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O Diretor campeão-de-cinismo diz que as pessoas são julgadas pelo que fazem, não por suas motivações. Por isso ele expôs os fatos. Ele mente. Fez isso porque quis fazer outro filmão de ação roliúdiano. Se as pessoas são julgadas por suas ações não cabe aqui afirmar. Mas este não é um julgamento, é um filme, uma obra de arte. E na arte, um fato não é nada sem que seja sustentado pelo aprofundamento psicológico de quem o causou. Pirandello já dizia que um fato é um saco que só se põe em pé se precedido de premonições, pensamentos. Disse isso para o teatro, mas vale para o cinema.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Saí quase tão ignorante do Baader Meinhof que quando entrei. E curioso, com um sensação de irrealidade. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;O Grupo Baader Meinhof Komplex é um filme-oportunidade perdida.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-5527516692042531680?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/5527516692042531680/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/07/filme-o-baader-meinhof-complex.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5527516692042531680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/5527516692042531680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/07/filme-o-baader-meinhof-complex.html' title='Filme: O BAADER MEINHOF COMPLEX'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3197415274167829220.post-610187316113958804</id><published>2009-07-28T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T17:18:02.658-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Critica da vida'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><title type='text'>O Major Reismann e o resto de nós contra a autoridade</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OZ_OZbIr_rE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OZ_OZbIr_rE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nem sempre o bom-gosto é o melhor, para cada um principalmente. (Quem nunca comeu batata frita com coca?) OS DOZE CONDENADOS é um de meus filmes-delícia. Robert Aldrich, 1967, um primor de crítica contra a guerra se comparado às apologias à indústria bélica de hoje.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Reismann (Lee Marvin) desobedece ordens e consegue matar alemães na II Guerra. Os generais só se importam com a primeira parte. E lhe dão missão maluca. Treinar doze criminosos para uma missão suicida. Que morram com proveito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Um psicólogo faz testes com os criminosos. E diz ao Major, eses caras são perigosos. Eles têm um enorme ressentimento contra qualquer tipo de autoridade. Qualquer tipo, diz ele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;- E você não? - corta o Major.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;SIIIIIIIMMMM!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Comunidade do Orkut NÃO À TEOLOGIA DA LIBERTAÇÃO diz que a TL é contra toda autoridade. Não é, não. Pois se fosse, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;eu faria parte dela! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ahaha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3197415274167829220-610187316113958804?l=aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/feeds/610187316113958804/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-major-reismann-e-o-resto-de-nos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/610187316113958804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3197415274167829220/posts/default/610187316113958804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aliteraturamorreu.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-major-reismann-e-o-resto-de-nos.html' title='O Major Reismann e o resto de nós contra a autoridade'/><author><name>Paulo Avelino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08476894313164675257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j9fZ04luCmE/SYjn0g9yddI/AAAAAAAAAAs/MciEcSwR9xs/S220/Jardim+Bot%C3%A2nico+013.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
