Apartheid ortopedeiro

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Calçada portuguesa à porta do hospital só para estrangeiros, quando algum partir um tornozelo na calçada só para turistas das zonas a eles reservadas. Calçada portuguesa à porta do tribunal só para investidores(estrangeiros), caso algum pretenda uma indemnização da edilidade por ficar com o sapato descapado.

Todos os portugas, principalmente forasteiros do interior, deverão fazer-se acompanhar duma autorização para pisotear a calçada portuguesa, quem for apanhado a cuspir, mictar, estacionar viaturas em cima da calçada portuguesa será convenientemente separado da sociedade e reeducado nas Ilhas Selvagens.

O resto da cidade deverá ser acolchoada, como um parque infantil, para protecção das populações indígenas, inconsequentes e inimputáveis.

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The city of lights


Lately the frequency of posting here lowered due to the fact that I was focused in the task of moving from my beloved Lisbon with it’s amazing light. «Anyone arriving in Lisbon for the first time is always surprised by the singular quality of the city’s light: clear, crystalline and pure, the light of Lisbon warmly defines the contours of a unique city. The silver light reflected from the broad river Tagus, the glowing light of dusk, the brilliant light of dawn or the light spread across the whole city when seen from out on the water – these are the extraordinary moments that we will set out to capture during our tour of this luminous city, all as seen through the eyes of a professional photographer

Moved to where, you might ask. To the city of lights, Paris.

Once I am all settled I’ll return to tell you about this adventure.

que seria…

«… partir sem data de volta, para uma outra banda, onde nem a maresia chegasse, quanto mais saber-te ao fundo. que seria, sem água que lave as poeiras, nem leito que espelhe as luas. sem o eco do cais nos sentidos.

réstia tua, desconsolo. sombra desta nossa vida. tempo que foste metade de mim à espera da mais muda noite, louvando em silêncio a mesma oração. e a ânsia do dia, essa ânsia do dia, sempre promessa, sempre canção. sobe, desce, rua, rio.

fosse e subir-te-ia as marés em lágrimas. e para me não ver ausente da luz que te faz em tela, bem firmes, fechar-me-ia os olhos, e meu braço, se acenasse, era a súplica em pessoa: deita-me uma amarra, cidade, segura-me a ti, Lisboa.», de Gui Abreu de Lima no Delito de Opinião.

Roubei a angústia que palmilhei pela Baixa de Lisboa no Sábado com a mala de cartão quase aviada.

Santo António Hazard

Roubado ao Beijo de Mulata.

«Já o 12 de Junho em Lisboa é o dia mais previsível do ano, com a seguinte ordem de trabalhos:

  • Das 09:00 às 15:00 – Aumento de afluência de adolescentes com dor no peito. Investigando melhor, quase todos são marchantes com ansiedade de desempenho, e a crise passa à hora do ensaio geral das Marchas Populares, lá para as 16:00, altura em que, aconteça o que acontecer, eles nos desamparam a loja. Por vezes regressam depois da meia-noite…
  • Das 15:00 às 20:00 – Aumento da afluência de crianças com menos de 3 anos. Motivo de admissão: ingestão acidental de folhas de manjerico. A curiosidade é a mãe de metade dos acidentes na infância. O pai também não é bem incógnito, como adiante se verá… Geralmente os meninos têm alta directa para o arraial do bairro.
  • Das 19:30 às 23:00 – Aumento da afluência. Motivo de admissão: corpo estranho na faringe. Invariavelmente, o corpo estranho é uma espinha de sardinha assada. A avaliar pelos números do Grande Observatório Piscícola do Serviço de Urgência, trata-se do único dia do ano em que os meninos se engasgam com espinhas de sardinha. Por qualquer razão obscura, os adultos perdem a capacidade de reconhecer a sardinha como um alimento potencialmente perigoso e oferecem-na da maneira mais estapafúrdia às crianças pequenas – inteiras e sobre o pão. Os hábitos enraizados e as tradições são os pais quase incógnitos da outra metade dos acidentes na infância.
  • Das 00:00 em diante – Motivo principal de admissão: adolescentes em coma alcoólico.»

Lisbon’s longest night

Saint Anthony of Padua as is commonly known was born in Lisbon and is celebrated tonight and tomorrow all over the city.

«One day, on the occasion of an ordination, a great many visiting Dominican friars were present, and there was some misunderstanding over who should preach. The Franciscans naturally expected that one of the Dominicans would occupy the pulpit, for they were renowned for their preaching; the Dominicans, on the other hand, had come unprepared, thinking that a Franciscan would be the homilist. In this quandary, the head of the hermitage, who had no one among his own humble friars suitable for the occasion, called upon Anthony, whom he suspected was most qualified, and entreated him to speak whatever the Holy Spirit should put into his mouth. Anthony objected but was overruled, and his sermon created a deep impression. Not only his rich voice and arresting manner, but the entire theme and substance of his discourse and his moving eloquence, held the attention of his hearers. At that point, Anthony was commissioned by Brother Gratian, the local Minister Provincial, to preach the Gospel throughout the area of Lombardy, in northern Italy. In this capacity he came to the attention of the founder of the order, Francis of Assisi. Francis had held a strong distrust of the place of theological studies in the life of his brotherhood, fearing that it might lead to an abandonment of their commitment to a life of real poverty. In Anthony, however, he found a kindred spirit for his vision, who was also able to provide the teaching needed by young members of the order who might seek ordination. He thereby entrusted the pursuit of studies for any of his friars to the care of Brother Anthony(…) In 1226, after attending the General Chapter of his order held at Arles, France, and preaching in the French region of Provence, Anthony returned to Italy and served as envoy from the general chapter to Pope Gregory IX. At the Papal court, his preaching was hailed as a “jewel case of the Bible” and he was commissioned to produce his collection of sermons, Sermons for Feast Days (Sermones in Festivitates).»

Let there be grilled sardines and bread, wine and manjericos. Have fun!! I know I will! :D

In Lisbon

«Immediately we noticed the castle. You can’t fail to. Medieval and partly Moorish, it sits astride one of the highest of the city’s many hills(…)

We didn’t plot a route. We intuited one. So the beauty we encountered was serendipitous: the mosaics of black and white stone with which so many of the sidewalks, esplanades and plazas are paved; the tiles — yellow, green, white — with which so many of the buildings are faced. Mosaics like these I’d seen elsewhere, though they had a special dominance and whimsy here. But tiles like these, used this way, were a revelation. It was as if Lisbon wore a set of jewels that other cities didn’t bother to.

(…)In Lisbon I have freedom. I can sprint into a random cafe to wait out a sudden downpour, discover that I like the progressive English folk music (Fink) pouring gently from the speakers, learn that the house white wine is utterly drinkable and just 2 euros a glass, and decide to stay for an aimless hour. This is what happened 15 minutes after I left the Church of São Miguel, which sits on a round plaza with a single thick palm tree in the center, and this is the true meaning of vacation.»