|
|
By The Wanderer, on May 6th, 2007
It’s so hard to understand English, isn’t it? As much hard as to understand any other language but only English is the worldwide official spoken and written language for communication between people not speaking a common language. This time I leave space for the language experts. Let’s see what Richard Lederer has to say about the “universal” language…
1 – Crazy Language
(May 1990, in Writer’s Digest):
English has over two million words and is considered the largest vocabulary in the world. It is time to face the fact that it is a crazy language… Here’s why!
Blackboards can be blue, green, brown, or white. There is no butter in buttermilk, no egg in eggplant, no worms or wood in wormwood, no pine or apple in pineapple, nor ham in hamburger. Sweetmeat is made from fruit, while sweetbread, which is not sweet, is made from meat. A wood chuck is a groundhog, which is not a hog; a horned toad is a lizard, and glowworms are fireflies, but fireflies are not flies, but beetles. A woman can man a station, but a man cannot woman a station; a man can father a movement, but a woman cannot mother one. A writer can write and stinger can sting, but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce, hammers don’t ham, and humdingers don’t humding. One mouse, two mice; one goose, two geese; but one moose, two meese? The teacher taught, and the preacher praught? Why are wise guys and wise men different? A nonstop flight never stops flying? A one-night stand… who’s standing?
Our English language is contradictory:
That’s why we can turn lights off and on, but not out and in. That’s why we can open up the floor, climb the walls, raise the roof, pick up the house, and bring down the house. Your house can burn up or down, and you fill in a form by filling out a form, in which you add up a column by adding them down, and your alarm clock goes off by going on, and you first chop a tree down and then chop it up.
2 – Crazy English
(June 3, 2003)
Let’s face it: English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat.
We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? One Kleenex, 2 Kleenices?
Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend, that you comb through annals of history but not a single annal? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preacher praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? If you wrote a letter, perhaps you bote your tongue?
Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive on parkways?
How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and wise guy are opposites? How can overlook and oversee be opposites, while quite a lot and quite a few are alike? How can the weather be hot as hell one day and cold as hell another.
Have you noticed that we talk about certain things only when they are absent? Have you ever seen a horseful carriage or a strapful gown? Met a sung hero or experienced requited love? Have you ever run into someone who was combobulated, gruntled, ruly or peccable? And where are all those people who ARE spring chickens or who would ACTUALLY hurt a fly?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm clock goes off by going on.
English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible. And why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up this essay, I end it.
3 – Politics and The English Language
(in June 3, 2003)
Longtime Chicago mayor Richard J. Daley was known for beheading the English language with such mutilations as “I resent your insinuendoes” and “No man is an Ireland.” “Today the real problem is the future,” he declared but predicted that “We shall reach greater and greater platitudes of achievement.” Mr. Daley’s creative word choices must have been contagious because another Chicago politician was heard to shout, “I don’t want to cast asparagus at my opponent!”
In discussing a local flood, California Governor Pat Brown observed, “This is the worst disaster in California since I was elected.” Here are some other executive and legislative platitudes that fill the annals of political science.
Pronounced Bill Clinton, “I believe that this country’s policies should be heavily biased in favor of non-discrimination.”
If we don’t make some changes, the status quo will remain the same,” said a member of Clinton’s staff.
“We’re going to have the best-educated American people in the world,” promised Vice President Dan Quayle, who also pro claimed, “I support efforts to limit the terms of members of Congress, especially members of the House and members of the Senate.”
If Lincoln were alive today, he’d roll over in his grave,” said former president Gerald Ford, at a Lincoln’s birthday dinner. Ford also said, “Things are more like they are now than they have ever been.”
Responding to a question on whether she had expected murder convictions for the Branch Davidians on trial, Attorney General Janet Reno said: “I always wait until a jury has spoken before I anticipate what they will do.”
Former Michigan governor George Romney clarified, “I didn’t say that I didn’t say it. I said that I didn’t say that I said it. I want to make that very clear.”
A Louisiana lawmaker loudly opposed a bill for the benefit of dependent children: “To hell with posterity. What’s posterity done for us? Other Louisiana legislators have been recorded saying, “I don’t want to beat a dead horse to death” and “This mortality rate is killing us” and “I am not sure I understand the question, but I agree with you.”
A political candidate confronted by questions from a Philadelphia reporter begged off by saying, “Candidly I cannot answer that. The question is too suppository.”
Explaining why he would never return o Washington, Defense Secretary Bobby Ray Inman metaphorized, “I came to a fork in the road and I took it.”
Reacting to the NFL pulling the Super Bowl out of Arizona, Senator Dennis DeConcini riposted, “Those who throw rocks in glass houses had better look at yourself.”
White House spokesman Marlin Fitzwater observed, the highly fortified chemical weapons are dangerous and becoming more so.”
Leave it to Washington mayor Marion Barry to say, “Outside of the killings, we have one of the lowest crime rates in the nation.”
U.S. Senator Barbara Boxer announced, “Those who survived the San Francisco earthquake said, ‘Thank God I’m still alive.’ But, of course, those who died, their lives will never be the same again.”
A newly elected Justice of the Peace in New Mexico, asked to enforce a law prohibiting cohabitation without benefit of marriage, pronounced, “That would be like looking through a needle for a haystack.”
And a three-time mayor with a 36-year career in politics once concluded, “Let’s jump off that bridge when we come to it.”
May the gods be with… if your life and success depends on a good or fluent English speaking.
By The Wanderer, on April 13th, 2007
 No matter what you’re talking about, size really matters. It’s impressive the power of this phrase to make people thinking about sex. I believe that such a power is no more than the effect of good marketing operations because the phrase has been used lately in TV advertising sketches to promote some products which, normally, have nothing to do with sex but for which the induction to this one works very nicely to catch attentions.
Attraction between man and woman is always connected to size. For instance, we all know cases where a man can’t feel totally attracted to a gorgeous woman just because she, even being gorgeous, is taller than him kind a 15 to 20 cm. And how many women love tall and strong men exclusively for those physical reasons? And yes, I do believe that for many women the size of the male sexual organ really matters and women have the right to think like so and use that criteria for selection of their favorite male (I wonder if they need a picture of the “thing” prior to any decision!!). Men, by their side, also use the size of breast or butt as a criteria for selection of their favorite female but men have a good excuse: males are naturally “programmed” to react to physical kind stimulus coming from females. Pure animal stuff, I know…
 We see the world (for those having the ability of seeing) as a function of our size or, generally speaking, depending on our perception of dimensions. I know how frustrating is to feel that things around us are not made respecting our size. If we’re the “shorty” kind we look at the others down-top and that make us feeling… unvalued. If we’re tall we look at the others top-down and that gives a real pain in the neck or, who knows, brings us some bones diseases which normally are pretty much hard to be treated. We see the world also as a function of our perception of our own intelligence or special skills. Self-esteem it’s really something we all should have. My suggestion goes only in the direction of the moderated utilization of our self-esteem, otherwise our arrogance will go up to a size which will disturb our social integration in our own social environment. And, you know, size matters!!
Awesome is the perception of some people about the size of their power. Power matters and power size matters even more. We very often think and behave as we had the King inside our belly.
NOTE: damn it, translation of these popular sayings it’s sometimes really hard, though I leave here the saying in its original language: “comporta-se como se tivesse o rei na barriga”. If someone knows a good translation to English of this sentence, please leave it here as a comment
 Many of us are used to oversizing our own skills and then we feel we’re great and behave as great. One of the problems of such behavior is that oversizing brings very often breakdowns in the system. Another consequence is that oversizing (mainly if we’re talking about power) drives us up to the state of art in what dictatorship behavior is concerned. When before such an “immense” person, our reaction is the reaction of a short person looking at a tall one: we feel inferior! And you know what? The more inferior you feel, the even more inferior you’ll get.
Not everyone feels unconfortable with size disproportion or with oversizing perception of size. Some just assume an attitude of submission. Others are smart enough to get a workaround and, even still small, they are happy though. Many others have no idea about sizing. Finally, just a few have a proactive attitude relating to sizing, no matter it is under or over… And I believe this works no matter we’re talking about sex or not.
 Speaking of sex, I can’t finish my post without referring how much “size” it’s relevant in the context of our sexuality. The number of treatments (or methods or ways) advertised in Internet for penis enlargement it’s simply… astronomic. Guys, men are no longer what they used to be. But women are not, as well. Penis enlargement is as much a good business as the surgery to implant silicone in women’s breast. The most famous case I know, speaking of silicone, has been Pamela Anderson, a shorty style sexy symbol who decided to compensate her shortness by increasing her breast size. You see, size matters, doesn’t it? Because she was a success (like other “barbies” were), now we have women paying for silicone implants, we have women paying for removing silicone implants, we have many people discussing what is the best place in the human body to put silicone and where you should not use it, we have everybody talking about silicone and, as consequence of that, we have doctors getting richer with this in/out and on/off silicone business and we have the silicone industry itself growing up as well. This is great, this is the ultimate state of human kind development.
To be honest I never was able to ask any friend of mine (females) if the penis size is really relevant for their happiness but I guess if I were outward enough to do it I would get some kind of escape style answers, yellow smiles or any other reaction which would not feed my curiosity. On other hand, I don’t need to ask any man if the size of the breast or butt of women are relevant for them cause it’s pretty much visible they are. The size of the brain it’s also something I don’t need to ask anything about. Many people think (men above all) that intelligence it’s proportional to the brain size and therefore the woman brain size is less than the man brain size (read more)… But amazingly I’m not speaking about the physical size of the brain. I was thinking about the “size”, capacity wise, and not inch (centimeter) wise. As a matter of fact, if men dominate, men are superior. Women, by their side, very often state that men thinking capacity it’s concentrated in their penis. After such a statement it’s now easy to see why many women prefer “intelligent” men. Besides, if it is like that, then the unit for the IQ (Intelligence Quotient) should be the centimeter or the inch, which is not. Nevertheless, men dominate and therefore are superior.
 Brazilian women are the best ones in what sizing concerns are… concerned. Almost 99.99% of the Brazilian women hate to be short and hate to have small breast and butt. If on one hand, here in Brazil, the butt size it’s relevant in the criteria of Brazilian men for selection of their companion but there’s no “problemo” around that (because women here are very well provided in that area), on the other hand, many Brazilian females are not happy with their breast which, they say, it’s not big enough. Consequence of this? Brazilian shoes, bras and trousers industry say thanks… Furthermore, because tallness it’s relevant for Brazilian women (who are naturally short in general) they use these typical Carmen Miranda style shoes which have the property of adding to women height some more 5 or 10 cm and, I believe, they also are the reason for Brazilian women having this famous sexy walking style very well known and appreciated by many men from different parts of the world.
Definitely, size really matters and it is like so in many other aspects of our life, from birth to death:
- my pacifier is bigger than yours
- my mom’s breast is bigger than your mom’s breast
- my toy is bigger than yours
- my school is bigger than yours
- my car is bigger than yours
- my wife’s butt is bigger than your wife’s butt
- my house is bigger than yours
- my office is bigger than yours
- my retirement is bigger than yours
- and so on, and so on…
We all know that things, regarding this “size”issue, are exactly like I’m saying they are. Why then do we always deny it when we’re inquired about relevance of “size”? Because each of us is not perfect and there’s always something in us not as big as we’d like it to be. Being so, we always decide to be politically or socially correct when we’re discussing this topic. At least, we always decide to be cautious when discussing sizes. Finally, many of us very often decide to compensate something in us not big enough with any other thing in us big enough to be admired. And if we make an effort to be correct or cautious or compensate size, it’s because… size matters !!!
May the gods be with you…
By The Wanderer, on March 14th, 2007
…or “What the hell am I writing these fucking posts in English for?”. The answer may be quite complex but understandable if you really care about it, I mean, if you are patient enough to understand the reasons that Reason knows nothing about…
Let’s start from the beginning then, even knowing that not everything has necessarily to start by the beginning. In the beginning was Word Press! I’ve found this open source project supported on PHP for creating blogs at some point of my daily net surfing (Guys… I’m Internet addicted). It is true that the project caught my entire attention due to its technical side (Web Design it’s my main hobby), but I can’t avoid saying here that during my research a noble thought made up my mind and turned to become the genesis of this blog: these guys are great, they work for free, they work for me. From there to the public inauguration of this blog was just the time needed by any normal human being to pronounce the interjection “hi” (or, in Portuguese, “ai”). Word Press is made in English for English people, or, for English speaking people. So I thought: “why the hell should I be worried with translating this blog from English to Portuguese if the forecast for the number of Portuguese speaking readers reading this blog could be something between one or two per year? Easy question, easier answer: I left the blog in English, I mean, as built. However, I got immediately into the conclusion that a blog in English wouldn’t nicely combine with posts in Portuguese! Well, I’m a man of fluent thoughts and fast decisions and as a natural consequence of that I’ve decided to write posts in Her Majesty’s language, The Queen Of Great Britain…
This is the point where I need to be a little bit more “intellectualoyd”: the reason I publicly gave for writing here posts in English was based on the need I have to make myself readable by more than 50% of the world population. Amazing, isn’t it? First, I’ve decided that I have something important to say to the World. Secondly, I’ve decided that whether I have or not something to say to the World, the World would be able or would wish to understand this “macarronic” English language I’m using here like if it was the real language spoken by the citizens of Her Majesty, The Queen Of Great Britain. Fortunately for me she, Her Majesty The Queen Of Great Britain , has no time to read my blog. Otherwise I would have to prepare myself for her constant attacks every time she would be reading one of my superb posts through what I’m all the time murdering her noble language which, in fact, happens to be a royal heritage of her noble ancestors.
Let’s face now the English language, by itself, independent of the contents, by itself as well. To achieve the perfection when analyzing something, an analyst must have a comparison term otherwise it won’t be possible to use sentences like “nothing compares to you” which reminds me a nice song from the controversial irish lady Sinéad Marie Bernadette O’Connor. One excellent counterpart to be used as rival for my written English style can be any British newspaper. I pick any of these newspapers from the land (UK) where people see the World from the opposite side of the side seen by the others, no matter what side the latter one is, and I patiently start my reading of, for instance, the first page. Oh frustration of frustrations, pain of pains, depression of depressions… It’s not needed to finish not even the first page to get into the conclusion that my English language, the one I’m using right now to write this post, simply… sucks!! All of a sudden the phrase “nothing compares to you” came down from the far nowhere to simply destroy my illusions of becoming a famous writer in the language of Her Majesty The Queen Of Great Britain. Well, I could refer here to George Bush or some American president instead of the Queen as a distinguished English speaker but USA has not been the origin of the English language therefore they are pretty much secondary in this matter. Anyhow, as a non English native speaker, it’s pretty clear I constantly mix up British, American and Australian style of speaking when I try to communicate in English. To that, we may give the designation of “International English with Portuguese flavor”.
As a practice of light masochism, even not being masochist at all, I keep reading my posts from time to time in order to find out what hurts more my readers (even if those are just me): the grammar, the vocabulary or the style. The contents, I know, is perfect. I’m pretty good at destroying expectations in people as much as I’m good at creating them. In fact, I’m well known as a perfect creator of baffling situations as well. But is it worthy the effort of creating good topics if they will not be readable cause your writing technique or style doesn’t please your readers? It isn’t… A bad writing technique, which is bad either because you use the wrong grammar, the wrong vocabulary or both, hurts like hell a good matter. Any book for which you need to read a sentence more than once to understand its basic sense, it’s condemned to be a failure. That’s it, I here declare that I need sometimes to read my own posts more than once in order to understand if, when I wrote them, I was in my perfect state of mind or I just need to go through some more (many more?) hours of English language lessons… Therefore, my blog it’s a failure, therefore I’m a candidate to be taken as a failure regarding the side of myself believing that I could become a writer. Should a man give up of being a failure? I think not if being a failure it’s just something between you and yourself. And it seems that my posts don’t go much further: they are pretty much something between me and myself.
Babylon it’s a great online translator (find here a sample of its power in the right column). I always use Babylon in my writings in English. It’s great for vocabulary, not grammar oriented and unfortunately not free. The previous version was pretty easy to crack but I’m afraid Babylon creators have become smart and the cracker no longer works. Meanwhile, until I decide if I buy a license or not, I’ve decided to place a translator in this blog because it’s been awesome the number of times I need it to write or read my own posts. Babylon is good but still needing improvements. For instance, Babylon linguists suffer from the same ignorance of Americans in general: they really mix up both Portuguese languages from Portugal and from Brazil and the result is a big mess, indeed.
For my readers I’ve got good news and bad news. The good ones are “I will keep writing my posts”. The bad ones are: “I will keep doing it in English as the initial reasons for doing it since the very beginning are still valid: no pain, no fame!”. The nice part of this my last statement goes on the fact that good news and bad news in this case are interchangeable: any of these news might not be either good or bad or, in extreme cause, they might not even be taken as “news” or, finally, “good” and “bad” are definitely relative concepts.
May the gods be with you, I mean, if they’re not busy taking English language lessons. In this case, I sincerely hope they haven’t taken the bad decision of chosing a Brazilian teacher for that purpose…
By The Wanderer, on January 26th, 2007
For those of you knowing me, nothing that I can say here will make you believe I have been out in Pelourinho, Salvador’s downtown, for a Friday night show of Brazilian music but I do declare that it really happened (January 19th). That place in Largo Pedro Arcanjo it’s where you can go every Friday for listening Motumbá, drink good light and cold Brazilian beer and testify the madness of hundreds of (african-) brazilian music lovers. There, you’ll find live music, very much Brazilian and African style (this is Bahia), and lots of people (mainly young ones) wanting to shake up their bones for about three to four hours. “Motumbá” it’s first of all a reference to a religious stuff, African originated, and has been used to give name to a band which uses that place for its music rehearsals.
 Total madness, my friends, total madness! And I believe this time was much more intensive because the great Ivete Sangalo and the minister Gilberto Gil, both of them born and raised in Bahia, have been a relevant part of the party too because they have been on stage for performing. Yes, Motumbá happens every Friday night and costs only R$30.00 (thirty reais, about 11 euros) for getting in plus the cost of everything you can drink (for instance R$2.50 for a beer, less than one euro) in the bar. And believe me, you’ll drink a lot because these summer nights in Salvador (Bahia) are like hell, temperature and animation wise, and get even hotter if you decide to free your body and let it move on the sound of the local phrenetic music.
Let’s be straight (like I always like to be): I don’t like Brazilian music! I know I own some CDs of Elis Regina, Ney Matogrosso, Virginia Rodrigues,… I know there’s one or two songs from Chico Buarque or Maria Rita which make me stop for paying attention but, my friends, from there to the point where I would consider myself a Brazilian music lover goes an infinite distance. However, Motumbá it’s another reality which has nothing to do with the singers or composers I’ve referred here before. Motumbá it’s Carnival, Carnival is Brazil therefore Motumbá is Brazil. Music of Ivete Sangalo, Motumbá, Timbalada or Chiclete Com Banana is the “Axé” and it’s totally oriented for dance because the rithm and the intensity of sound are too much for your heart beating. Imagine now all that together with the much beer you can drink. Imagine also all that together with hundreds of bodies full of energy moving and shaking in a way that you immediately feel how much Brazilians have been programmed to dance, shake and sing. This natural trend of Brazilians for dance it’s a DNA stuff. However, it had not origin in the Portuguese DNA because there’s no comparison possible between, for instance, “fado” and “axé”.
 Motumbá is Axé and Axé is party, happiness and sensuality. Women in Brazil are plenty of sensuality and I believe they’re much, much better than men in this matter: dancing! You may think I’m saying this because I’m a male and so I’m programmed to react to female stimulus. You may think I’m not able to be neutral when making this journalistic work about Motumbá because as a traditional (conservative?) male I wouldn’t ever think that it’s more beautiful to see a man dancing than a woman. Yes, you’re right, I’m that kind of male-chauvinist and definitely there was I, in my safe corner away from the crazyness of those mad boys and girls, watching those sensual female bodies shaking and jumping while at the same time I was drinking one cold beer after the other and trying not to be smashed by the crowd or robbed by the “smart” guys who always go to these parties to make their day.
I liked it, yes I did. I went there not to dance (because my body has not been programmed for dancing) but to feel the real Brazilian soul. Where there’s Brazilians, there’s music, there’s dance, there’s party. They seem to be happy being like that. If they really are, good. If not, maybe this is the way they have found to get over their ansiety and frustration and it seems it work.
Will I get back to Motumbá again? Despite the much I’ve enjoyed the experience, the answer is “no” or, at least, I’ve no intentions to. Motumbá is too much sand for my truck but I had to feel it by myself or, by other words, on my flesh and bones. And yes, concerning this kind of music and dance, Brazilians are really great and Motumbá it’s only one of the many local bands you can listen to for having some moments of fun.
May the gods be with you case they’re not having fun with Motumbá…
[ INFO: click pictures to enlarge ]
By The Wanderer, on January 21st, 2007
Back to homeland after one whole year in Bahia brought me a bit of Christmas carol during the season which is supposed to celebrate the birth of a man about who nobody can say more than what the Bible says. And, as you know, the Bible is no better no worse than any of the Superman books except the fact that, I believe, there was many more Bibles being sold or given than all the books about that American super-hero.
“A Christmas Carol” of Charles Dickens it’s no more than a nice and sweet story to be told to kids with the goal of giving them a first approach to the dialetheism of the “Good versus Evil” by using an old fashioned morality and very much out of the context of a capitalist society we’re living in. Despite the fact this story might not be even for nowadays’ kids (who will prefer much more to deal with a “Playstation“, “X-Box” or a “Game Boy” than with a story made for their gran-grandparents) it’s still true that those three ghosts are all the time visiting us, aren’t they? Past is what you feel you have already been through and you can’t get rid of, Present it was (I’ll get back to this issue) and Future brings us always great (or only big) concerns or, very often, big fears. Besides that, ghosts it’s what our lives are full of, as we all know, a fact which has by itself given to psychologists and psychiatrists a pretty good source of profits in modern societies.
A man going back to Portugal on Christmas vacations while is living in Salvador (Bahia, Brazil) can only get an idea, when he arrives there, that he arrived to a Wonderland. Even the worst problems mentioned as so by our friends, relatives or family on site sound to us too little if compared to the huge ones we, residents in Bahia (Brazil), may face in this African part of the country that Pedro, let me say it again, should never have found. Frankly, I’ve never felt before about my home country what I’ve felt during this journey. I’ve been able to see that only nice and trustable people live there, tough working, organized, disciplined. I’ve been able to check that urbanization looked like to be a fact, cleanness of streets is a reality, roads are the best in the world, discipline of car drivers can be taken as a good example world wide, politicians looked like being honest people and above all that Portuguese people it’s a very, very much classy one. That was the trip I’ve made with the Ghost Of Christmas Past. I believe he wanted me to see how stupid I was and how even more stupid I am now for not have been able to open my eyes and be a clever guy many years ago. Notice that I said the Ghost of Christmas Past and not the one of Christmas Present. Confusing? Definitely not because this is just an allegory. And I even haven’t said what I think about Christmas itself… Because if I have to say something about it then I need to take the religious contours off it and dress it up with social ones instead. I believe people is nowadays more concerned with paying some attention to familly, relatives and friends at least once a year than to celebrate for the umpteenth turn the birth of Christ, no matter what the people’s religious beliefs are.
By the writing of this post I’m already back to Salvador but my near future is to get back there, to Portugal, that tiny land which has not deserved much respect from the majority of the world countries where Portugal is known. It is also true that the majority, in this case, is a minority because there’s not many countries in the world knowing that small rectangle stuck between the Atlantic and Spain. This geographic situation made us, centuries ago, to try our luck through the Atlantic Ocean cause crossing Spain was out of question and establishing any relationship with them was even worse. Going back to my carol, it was when I was enjoying a delicious “rabanada” that Ghost Of Christmas Yet To Come appeared and then took me into a black hole. In the real Charles Dicken’s story, Scrooge is taken by this ghost to what life can be after his death. My ghost has preferred to show me a black hole. After some thinking (long and hard) I’m realizing that the black hole and stupidity fit well in this story. Can you see how things are linked? Without Spain, Portugal would never find Brazil and I would never had to go from Salvador (Bahia, Brazil) to Portugal for Christmas vacations. For some people this would be called “the destiny” and they would then use this coincidence to reinforce the idea that everything in our life has been already pre-written even before we were born… Well, if you really like those silly things about spiritism, dooms, “candomblé“, reincarnation and so on then come to Brazil because there’s much of that bullshit overhere.
The Ghost Of Christmas Present didn’t appear. First I thought that he might have appeared but because I was so busy meeting people I have not met since one year ago and visiting places I have not visited since one year ago I had no time, though, to see him or to dedicate him some time. Or, there might be another reason for him to miss me. As you know, Present doesn’t exist, mathematically speaking, and being so one’s life is only made of Past and Future. Fortunately for me Present doesn’t exist because if it did my present life would be a piece of chopped shit served together with sour tropical fruits and a fine sauce made of yoghurt and honey. Disgusting, isn’t it? I totally agree but I was very well cheated by the good looking of the sauce. And before you say something about this, the one that never has been cheated by the good looking of things may throw me the first stone…
May the gods be with you even if you’re considering this post of mine just a little bit more of garbage generated by a modern society urbanoid going through a typical midlle-age crisis.
|
|
Loading ...
