by Zé Barbosa, on July 7th, 2010 I have been thinking about three trivial questions involving 2010 FIFA World Cup:
- Why was South Africa, a country leading Apartheid practices where the sport king is rugby and cricket, was chosen to be the stage for the 2010 FIFA World Cup, a football (soccer) tournament?
- Why is FIFA against the intervention by governments, like Nigeria and France, in FIFA tournaments, when those governments are unhappy with the lack of professionalism and national pride shown by respective teams?
- Will the profit coming from the sale of thousands of deafening and awful vuvuzelas, not forbidden by FIFA in the name of a South African culture, going to be applied for rising the life conditions of millions of black people in South Africa?
I have been thinking, and thinking, and thinking, and thinking, and thinking (sometimes I eat, drink, sleep and snore too) until I found it. Just in time because the tournament is about to reach the end. The following song and video are the answer.
By the way, now that Portugal is off, I am against Germany. May the gods be with the other teams…
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by Zé Barbosa, on July 4th, 2010 There are people suffering. There are people screaming. There are people struggling. There are people praying. There are people singing. There are people talking. There are people surviving. There are people dying. There are people going down. There are people getting desperate. There are people disguising. There are people starving. There are drunken husbands hitting wives. There are lost souls waiting to be saved. There are fragile people. There are anguished people. There are bad guys. There are good guys. There are wolves. There are lambs.
Who are the fixers of this world? Who are the ones to be fixed? Who are the friends? Who are the others? Who are you? Who do you think you are? How do you think others think what you are? How are you doing today? How do you think you will be doing tomorrow? How have you done since you were born? How much love can you handle? How much love lacking are you suffering from? How much do you love? What are you doing that for? How much will that contribute to your happiness? Why? What for? How? When? Where? Who?
In English
—
When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
When high up above or down below
When you’re too in love to let it go
But if you never try you’ll never know
Just what you’re worth
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I . . .
Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I . . .
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Em Português
—
Quando dás o teu melhor e mesmo assim não consegues.
Quando obtens o que queres mas não o que precisas.
Quando a fadiga é tanta que nem consegues dormir.
Só podes andar para trás!
E as lágrimas escorrem-te pelo rosto
Quando perdes algo que não consegues substituir,
Quando amas alguem sem retorno.
Poderia ser pior?
Luzes te guiarão a casa
E reactivarão o teu corpo.
Então, tentarei curar-te.
Quando te sentes em alta ou triste.
Quando amas tanto que não queres abdicar.
Mas se nunca tentares nunca saberás
O que realmente vales.
Luzes te guiarão a casa
E reactivarão o teu corpo.
Então, tentarei curar-te.
Lágrimas escorrem-te pelo rosto
Quando perdes algo que não consegues substituir.
Lágrimas escorrem-te pelo rosto.
E eu…
Lágrimas escorrem-te pelo rosto.
Prometo-te que aprenderei com os meus erros.
Lágrimas escorrem-te pelo rosto.
E eu…
Luzes te guiarão a casa
E reactivarão o teu corpo.
Então, tentarei curar-te.
This post is dedicated to me and my highly performing attitude to deal with other’s problems since I have decided I had some spare time to spend with people. I have then assumed the position of father of a new and revolutionary psychotherapy practice!
May the gods be with me because I too need it…
by Zé Barbosa, on June 27th, 2010 I have found out (lately) that it is still possible to go through truly friendship between two human beings up to the borders where people usually barily get into the conclusion if what they are feeling is friendship or love. I myself, an incurable “free speech” performer, very often get very much lost when I try to define concepts like love, friendship, passion, etc…
When I am watching some American movies where feelings and emotions easily emerge, I am usually very concentrated on the way how two different phrases might be said: “I like you” and “I love you”. Guys? It is not definitely clear, or, as someone taught me some years ago: it is clear as mud! Sometimes “to like” is stronger, sometimes is lighter, sometimes is equal, sometimes means nothing. Same can be applied to “to love”. How about this? Well, I have decided, a couple of years ago, to care about the way I use either one or the other. I have decided then that I would not use them so lightly (and meaninglessly) as many people do. I have decided as well that I would not charge too hard such heavy meaning words. Nevertheless, it seems there is a significant difference in the power of both phrases depending on if we are talking about the English language or any Latin language (Portuguese, Spanish or Italian). This is the cultural side of a… culture!
Sometime ago, I wrote a post about friendship (read it here). It was an as much short text as the number of truly friends I have. Let us say that I have definitely been very selective in what friendship is concerned and I have no intention to modify that behavior. This is the way I am. This is the way I want to be. Out of that post, I would like to quote one of its few paragraphs:
This time we talked, among many other silly things, about some acquaintances of ours and about how much we could or should classify them as friends, best friends or just… acquaintances! All of a sudden I came up with an interesting thought: “Friendship? Yes, if that implies sharing”. No sharing? No friendship! Friendship with no sharing? Bullshit…
That was written less than two years ago. Today I still totally subscribe it. If there is sharing, there might be friendship. If there is friendship, there might be love. If there is friendship and/or love, then you share your ultimate intimacy with your friend or lover. Easy to say, harder to do, but… who cares? We do not want to be perfect, do we? It is for this reason I am leaving here a poem from a Portuguese writer, Luís de Camões, although not being I a poetry lover.
In English
—
Love is a fire that burns unseen,
a wound that aches yet isn’t felt,
an always discontent contentment,
a pain that rages without hurting,
a longing for nothing but to long,
a loneliness in the midst of people,
a never feeling pleased when pleased,
a passion that gains when lost in thought.
It’s being enslaved of your own free will;
it’s counting your defeat a victory;
it’s staying loyal to your killer.
But if it’s so self-contradictory,
how can Love, when Love chooses,
bring human hearts into sympathy?
Em Português
—
Amor é um fogo que arde sem se ver,
é ferida que dói, e não se sente;
é um contentamento descontente,
é dor que desatina sem doer.
É um não querer mais que bem querer;
é um andar solitário entre a gente;
é nunca contentar se de contente;
é um cuidar que ganha em se perder.
É querer estar preso por vontade;
é servir a quem vence, o vencedor;
é ter com quem nos mata, lealdade.
Mas como causar pode seu favor
nos corações humanos amizade,
se tão contrário a si é o mesmo Amor?
For the very same reason, I mean, because we do not want to be perfect and therefore we understand that trying to turn rational what it is not (love, passion) gets to be an action really stupid, I have decided to reintroduce here one of my (long since) favorite bands again: Dead Can Dance. And I do it because even a cold-fish style like me is capable of, here and there, get sunk in a sea of normal feelings and emotions, as long they are kept under control to not jeopardize the strong mathematical component of both mind and body of mine. This is because, my feelings and emotions are not saved in my soul, which I do not have, or my heart, which is nothing more than a biological hydraulic pump to keep our blood circulating. Feelings and emotions are in fact a part of my existence and are saved in a cell of my brain designated by “Affordable Illogicalities”.
In English
—
Don’t fade away
My brown-eyed girl
Come walk with me
I’ll fill your heart with joy
And we’ll dance through our isolation
Seeking solace in the wisdom we bestow
Turning thoughts to the here and everafter
Consuming fears in our fiery halos
Say what you mean
Mean what you say
I’ve heard that innocence
Has led us all astray
But don’t let them make you and break you
The world is filled with their broken empty dreams
Silence is their only virtue
Locked away inside their silent screams
But for now
Let us dance away
This starry night
Filled with the glow of fiery stars
And with the dawn
Our sun will rise
Bringing a symphony of bird cries
Don’t bring me down now
Let me stay here for awhile
You know life’s too short
Let me bathe here in your smile
I’m transcending
The fall from the garden
Goodnight
Em Português
—
Não desapareças,
Menina dos olhos castanhos.
Vem caminhar comigo.
Quero encher o teu coração de alegria
e dançar através do nosso isolamento.
Buscando consolo na sabedoria que espalhamos.
Fazendo dos pensamentos o aqui e o para sempre.
Consumindo medos nas nossas ardentes auréolas.
Diz o que pensas.
Pensa o que dizes.
Parece que essa inocência
nos conduziu à perdição.
Mas não os deixes iludirem-te e conterem-te.
O mundo está cheio dos seus sonhos sem sentido.
O silêncio é a sua única virtude,
encerrada nos seus gritos amordaçados.
Mas por agora,
vamos dançar por aí
nesta noite iluminada
pela luz de brilhantes estrelas.
E ao amanhecer,
o nosso sol nascerá
ao som de uma melodia de chilreares.
Não me faças sofrer agora.
Deixa-me ficar contigo por um momento.
Sabes que a vida é demasiado curta.
Deixa-me banhar-me no teu sorriso
porque estou a transcender
o Outono da vida.
Até amanhã!
This post is exclusively dedicated to Ms. PA, one of my best friends to whom I owe unforgettable moments of truly welfare.
May the gods be with the gossips-addicted sons of a bitch who, after they read this post, will be desperately trying to find out who the mentioned above Ms. PA is. Good luck, boys…
by Zé Barbosa, on June 23rd, 2010 I am celebrating the 5th anniversary of “The Wanderer” birth, a nickname chosen by a lousy blog writer who has had no guts to present himself before the gods with his own name, given by baptism in the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit. Amen!
This blog was born in May/June 2005 (read here the very first post), right before I took my family, weapons and luggage to go to Salvador, Bahia, Brazil, for a two years international assignment as per my Company request. This blog was born then to provide myself with a public space where to let my philosophical wanderings flow like shit in an endless sewer of a huge city. That is precisely my latest philosophical belief over what I have been driving my very much monochromatic life: shit happens! I have also decided to give this blog a touch of originality by writing a post, this one, by-steps instead the usual one-shot way. Simultaneously, I have decided to retouch the looking of this blog which is almost finished as of June 23rd, the Saint John day’s eve, a popular fest in Oporto, Portugal, also called Festa de São João or Festa Junina in Portugal and Brazil. By coincidence, June 23rd is also a day when I started dating the woman who happens to be my wife and mother of my children.
As wanderer has several synonyms in English,
drifter, floater, itinerant, rambler, roamer, rover, tramp, traveller, vagabond, vagrant,
the name of this blog “Roaming, free the speech” and the nickname “The Wanderer” are a kind of “let’s put all those words together, shuffle them and play like it were a words game”. The idea was to put together my forthright manners, my unbreakable (or immortal) attitude “I’m here, I’m there, it looks like I’m nowhere”, my new state as a world traveller and the new social disease “GSM Addiction”.
Five years later, this blog has got only a couple of readers. It means that what I write here has no interest at all to anybody, except to a few dark minds like me. The number of visits shown by the freeware hit counter used in this blog is already presenting a few thousand unique hits only because this blog has lot of pictures waiting to be leeched. May the gods save and provide Ms. CN, Mr. AM, Mr. Edvale, Ms. FG, Mr. RGAL and few other, with all the best in life. Although having already gone through some negation moments about this blog, here and there, I have decided not to murder it yet, despite the fact of not having many more readers besides me. This blog is my space (not MySpace) for self-entertainment and self-improvement (in English language too) as for being used to store the fluids resulting from an intellectual masturbation I dare to practice from times to times.
May the gods protect this piece of art…
by Zé Barbosa, on June 21st, 2010 It was not my intention to post here anything about 2010 FIFA World Cup and, in particular, about the national team of my country, Portugal. However, a score like this (Portugal 7 – 0 North Korea) it is not usual in football, no matter what Cup we are talking about. I am feeling, then, like leaving here a singular notice about this day when, despite not many Portuguese were believing in their own national team, the red/green team of ours has beaten bad, very bad, another team coming from a country about what I feel no sympathy at all: North Korea.
As I am not a football analyst, I thought I should put in this post a little touch of myself and make it then something more sociological or, who knows, more philosophical. Football moves mountains. Football is still a phenomenon even after 200 years after it was invented. But football is, definitely, a sport for men. I know there is national and international tournaments for female teams but, guys, female football could be the same thing but… it is not.
When a team, like the Portuguese one, reaches the final phase of a World Cup without knowing how to read or to write I do believe we really need to mark this luxurious football score as an awesome event in our life’s history. Even knowing that the national Portuguese team is number three (3) in FIFA ranking while North Korea is only number one hundred five (105). But… who cares? Football it is not (never was) particularly profuse in logics or even, more often, rationality.
What does a man (a normal one) love most? Within European reality, I could say: “alcohol, football and women”. Let us not discuss the order under what I should place those three most important men pleasures because that depends on what kind of man we are talking about. For this reason, the order I have followed here has been submitted to an alphabetical criteria. Additionally, in a humble trial of putting some salt and pepper on this post, a honest thing I can do then, without wanting to generate polemics, is to show here my own favorite order:
- alcohol
- women
- football (soccer)
How about that? I suck, right? I already know how much I suck since years! Anyhow, because this post is about Portugal spanking the (too much) communist North Korea, I have tried to find a picture which could join all those three top male’s pleasures or, let us be honest with ourselves, the main things which drive forward many men in this world. Unfortunately, I was not able to get an image which could philosophically gather alcohol, women and football with a Portuguese touch. That has forced me to compose one, specially for this post, by putting together a couple of other pics I have found in Google. I guess the image you can see here it is not that bad, from a point of view of an “old, conservative, sluggish and barbarian” man, who, according to a kid I got to know recently, happens to be me…
Will Portugal be a success in this 2010 FIFA World Cup? I really don’t give a damn because we are, since 1966, insisting always on the same mistake: we are not able to reasonably match (or tune in) our ambition (football wise) with a mindful knowledge of what we are made of.
Nevertheless, may the gods be with Carlos Queiroz and his boys…
by Zé Barbosa, on June 8th, 2010 … my new found!
Being a fan of Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Nick Cave, Rufus Wainwright and Jeff Buckley (among others of the same kind), I got immediately attracted to Mazgani‘s first notes I heard, a while ago on TV. Finally, after some “contemplation”, I had to go to FNAC (one of my favorite shops, very close to my house) and make a contribution to Shahryar Mazgani, a Portuguese/Iranian singer and song writer, singing in English language: I have got the “Song Of Distance” CD which is very much listenable from the first to the last of fourteen songs. Words for what? If you like the celebrities I have mentioned here above then I guess you will like Mazgani because he is a pretty nice mixture of all of them. Give him a try…
Mazgani can be heard on nRP, the best internet radio in the world, but even so I am leaving here to my faithful readers a little bit of Mazgani‘s flavor (watch the video in this post). Yes, I am advertising here, not aiming any fees, and I sincerely hope this musician can make more work like what he did in this CD I have just bought.
May the gods be with Shahryar…
by Zé Barbosa, on June 6th, 2010 Hugh… what a title, isn’t it? I am pretty much convinced I wouldn’t understand it (the title, of course) if it weren’t written by myself!
Pedro Passos Coelho is the name of the new leader of the old (enough) Portuguese Social Democracy party. Let us say that, finally, we have got rid of the latent fear of having the return of the “Old Lady”. He was born in Coimbra, Portugal, in July 24th, 1964. By 13, he joined the Social Democracy Youth, a group belonging to the Portuguese Social Democrat party, which he led from 1990 to 1995. He has got an University degree in Economy (Universidade Lusíada de Lisboa) which, I believe, has given him the tools he needed to become a consultant in some Portuguese corporations and also an University teacher since 2001.
Pedro is a serious candidate to win next elections because he naturally gets together two important qualities for a successful politician: excellent political background and a personal appearance very well worked out. Opposite to him, previous party leader, Ms. Manuela Ferreira Leite, has a reasonable political experience (let’s say she was more technocracy oriented) but an awful personal appearance. Being so, Pedro is already presenting himself as a probable upcoming prime-minister which, as of the writing of this post, is being confirmed by latest popularity surveys. Let us not fool ourselves, please, and assume definitely that, for a politician, no matter if it is man or woman, the personal appearance it is a must. A good politician must be moderately in fashion, be owner of a large charisma, must own an excellent diction, needs to be very widely diplomatic, be always updated, be able to tell a good lie without blushing, deny a negation without turning it to an affirmation, never use the answer “no comments”, be able to avoid naïve comments or analysis, show himself as a man from the people to the people and be owner of a large package of knowledge in the academic and scientific side of Politics, national and international wide. Pedro sounds like to have many of these personal qualities. Nevertheless, let us give time to the time because time usually does its job right. We will see then if the man has the guts…
May the gods be with Portugal…
by Zé Barbosa, on June 3rd, 2010 How about this? According to latest statistics, about 13% Portuguese men suffer from erectile dysfunction, which is something easily considered a complex national problem in a country apparently classified as “latino”, even not being located in South-America. As far I know, causes for this disease might be physical and/or psychological but the impact on men is definitely very much psychological, as penis is seen by any man, in general, as an unquestionable sign of his manhood.
 The style of Portuguese men has changed in the last two to three decades. On one hand, Portugal is since 1974 (Carnation Revolution) very much open to the world, what brought us different realities from different people, thinking different, behaving different. We are since then competing with other life styles coming from the very North of Europe (Norway, for instance) to the very South (Greece, for instance). On the other hand, Portuguese women’s style has changed as well which means that men have had the need to make some adaptations as a function of female attitude changes. Despite everything, Portuguese men have assumed, since long ago, a clear role of “Macho Latino” (Latino Macho Man from the Latin language machum latinae) which is not Portuguese exclusive (surely not) and applies to all men from Center and South-America (descending from Spaniard and Portuguese), Spain and Italy. A “Macho Latino” is a thing between a sex machine and an almost human being, male, for whom there is only two types of women: the good ones for fucking and the other! I wonder what is a “good woman for fucking” but who am I to talk about that?
Portuguese men are, in fact, going through hard times. As far I know, the erectile dysfunction is not the only problem affecting Portuguese virility. A large number of men, over here, suffer also from premature ejaculation which, considering the fact that women take a while longer just for warming up, might be really frustrating for a natty shining knight wanting to impress his gorgeous “milady”, graciously laid on a fluffy bed somewhere in the Castle Of Love. Guys, I have been thinking about what is worse for a man: get finished before the start or starting to go nowhere! If we keep going this way, one day we will need to hire professional sex maker experts (I mean, going short, official fuckers) from abroad to keep Portuguese women happy and assure survival of Portuguese species. That would be for sure the Swan Song of this species in danger of extinction since years: the “Macho Latino”. However, the ones still in action are very proud of themselves (and their virility) and definitely none of them is part of that half a million men owning a tool out of order…. My point here is that, if we keep going along with this crisis of Portuguese masculinity, a new generation of “machos latinos” might come up again, ready to be proficient where other are inefficient. Going short, a new business opportunity for some men in Portugal may then be rising up right in the middle of a real economical crisis which has been hitting bad this fragile Portugal. If that goes to happen, the species of Portuguese gigolos will be away from extinction. From a philantropic stand point, that could be taken by National Geographic naturalists as a new great final for a fight against extinction of animal species…
I am allowing myself to be very vernacular in this post (no ambition for more!) and for that reason I feel like having a strong need to show here a respectful and sincere tribute to the upmost Portuguese celebrity, within the fine art of being a Macho Latino: Mr. ZéZé Camarinha (see picture in this post). I guess foreign ladies do not need any introduction (it’s what they say!). Gentlemen, look out, it seems the guy is still in action! You better keep an eye open when you fall asleep…
May the gods be with our tools…
by Zé Barbosa, on June 1st, 2010
There is a time to live.
There is a time to die.
There is a time to rejoice.
There is a time to grieve.
There is a time to leave.
My friend is dying.
Yet, my friend is smiling.
If he had a soul, it would be black.
My friend has no soul.
His soul will never die.
Slowly vanishing, slowly timing out.
No back to black, no fears for the dark.
No tears on his face.
My friend rejoices.
Yet, my friend is dying.
No coffin, no shroud, no candles.
No mass, no mourning, no disgrace tales.
No feelings to bleed.
My friend is ending
Cos he’s got a dream to heed.
by Zé Barbosa, on May 28th, 2010 Following text was received by email, sent by my friend Mr. Edvale. I have assumed he would like me to translate it to English and place it in my blog. If that was the case, it was my pleasure!
You gotta know that:
- regular workers in Portugal (the ones still keeping their job) earn approximately half (55%) of the earnings practiced in the Eurozone.
- our top managers earn, average, the following nice wages:
- 32.0% more than the American (USA) ones,
- 22.5% more than the French ones,
- 55.0% more than the Finnish ones,
- 56.5% more than the Swedish ones,
Definition of manager (in Portugal):
everyone serving or, preferably, generated by the System! Even more “interesting”, these are the ones calling our attention to the fact that “Portuguese spend much above their earnings”.
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