Saturday, 31 January 2009
Thursday, 29 January 2009
Old hotels with old stories. The building showing the battering of the sea wind. A school in WWII. The room floor and its gentle slope. The small ballroom - a quiz, an old man covered in tatoos, ABBA songs by two enthusiastic ladies properly dressed in a 70's outfit. A single malt and those colourful stairs.
You're Pale Fire!
by Vladimir Nabokov
You're really into poetry and the interpretation thereof. Along the
road of life, you have had several identity crises which make it very unclear who you
are, let alone how to interpret poetry. You probably came from a foreign country, but
then again you seem foreign to everyone in ways unrelated to immigration. Most people
think you're quite funny, but maybe you're just sick. Talking to you ends up being much
like playing a round of the popular board game Clue.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Monday, 26 January 2009
Saturday, 24 January 2009
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
O Reino Unido não é de grandes coisas, é de grandes feitos.
Sunday, 18 January 2009
Thursday, 15 January 2009
O interesse da participação britânica está no facto de não ter participado. E não são necessários mais comentários aqui.
A tristeza da participação portuguesa (ver as páginas 42 e 43 disto) está no facto de ter trazido para o trabalho um tema que é absurdo no contexto e olha para trás - para culpas e responsabilidades antigas - e só me lembra a porcaria do fado dos coitadinhos que este país teima em adoptar como verdadeiro hino nacional.
'Pois não, pois não'. Portugal é um país onde se diz muito 'Pois não.', de forma hesitante, envergonhada, e com um encolher de ombros.
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
Thanks to my good mate Alex I recently read a book (supposedly) about the French. Many of the ideas and comments on the book were somewhat familiar to me, and I realized that the book I read* was also a book about the Portuguese, if only they were really posh. Yep.
(*sometimes I just have to make a parenthesis - here it is.)