Incongruências

Some nice description will fit in here....

segunda-feira, setembro 20, 2004

excisão feminina - réplica

O Smaug [post] escreve:

São no entanto situações incomparáveis, que se saiba as mulheres que desejem, proceder a uma interrupção voluntária da gravidez não vão ser arrastadas à força para a embarcação da Woman on Waves. Já no caso da excisão feminina não sei se seria esse o caso.
No entanto, pode-se estabelecer o seguinte paralelo:
  • a excisão feminina violenta mulheres demasiado novas ou fracas para se defenderem,
  • o aborto mata seres vivos, tambem eles, sem forma de se defenderem...

Espera-se reposta...


segunda-feira, setembro 13, 2004

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - O filme

Descobri há pouco, parece que estão a fazer um filme!


Food

‘Good evening.’ it lowed and sat back heavily on its haunches, ‘I am the main Dish of the Day. May I interest you in parts of my body?’ It harrumphed and gurgled a bit, wriggled its hindquarters into a more comfortable position and gazed peacefully at them.

Its gaze was met by looks of startled bewilderment from Arthur and Trillian, a resigned shrug from Ford Prefect and a naked hunger from Zaphod Beeblebrox.

‘Something off the shoulder perhaps?’ suggested the animal. ‘Braised in white wine sauce?’

‘Er, your shoulder?’ said Arthur in a horrified whisper.

‘But naturally my shoulder, sir,’ mooed the animal contentedly, ‘nobody else’s is mine to offer.’

Zaphod leapt to his feet and started prodding and feeling the animal’s shoulder appreciatively.

‘Or the rump is very good,’ murmured the animal. ‘I’ve been exercising it and eating plenty of grain, so there’s lot of good meat there.’ It gave a mellow grunt, gurgled again and started to chew the cud. It swallowed the cud again.

‘Or a casserole of me perhaps?’ it added.

‘You mean this animal actually wants us to eat it?’ whispered Trillian to Ford.

‘Me?’ said Ford, with a glazed look in his eyes, ‘I don’t mead anything.’

‘That’s absolutely horrible,’ exclaimed Arthur, ‘the most revolting thing I’ve aver heard.’

‘What’s the problem, Earthman?’ said Zaphod, now transferring his attention to the animal’s enormous rump.

‘I just don’t want to eat an animal that’s standing there inviting me to,’ said Arthur, ‘it’s heartless.’

‘Better than eating an animal that doesn’t want to be eaten,’ said Zaphod.

‘That’s not the point,’ Arthur protested. Then he thought about it for a moment. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘maybe it is the point. I don’t care, I’m not going to think about it now. I’ll just… er…’

The Universe raged about him in its death throes.

‘I think I’ll just have a green salad,’ he muttered.

‘May I urge you to consider my liver?’ asked the animal, ‘it must be very rich and tender by now, I’ve been force-feeding myself for months.’

‘A green salad,’ said Arthur emphatically.

‘A green salad?’ said the animal, rolling his eyes disapprovingly at Arthur.

‘Are you going the tell me,’ said Arthur, ‘that I shouldn’t have green salad?’

‘Well,’ said the animal, ‘I know many vegetables that are very clear on that point. Which is why it was eventually decided to cut through the whole tangled problem and breed an animal that actually wanted to be eaten and was capable of saying so clearly and distinctly. And there I am.’

It managed a very slight bow.

‘Glass of water please,’ said Arthur.

‘Look,’ said Zaphod, ‘we want to eat, we don’t want to make a meal of the issues. Four rare steaks please, and hurry. We haven’t eaten in five hundred and seventy-six thousand million years.’

The animal staggered to its feet. It gave a mellow gurgle.

‘A very wise choise, sir, if I may say so. Very good,’ it said, ‘I’ll just nip off and shoot myself.’

He turned and gave a friendly wink to Arthur.

‘Don’t worry, sir,’ he said, ‘I’ll be very humane.’

It waddled unhurriedly off to the kitchen.

A matter of minutes later the waiter arrived with four huge steaming steaks. Zaphod and Ford wolfed straight into them without a second’s hesitation. Trillion paused, then shrugged and started into hers.

Arthur stared at his feeling slightly ill.

‘Hey, Earthman,’ said Zaphod with a malicious grin on the face that wasn’t stuffing itself, ‘what’s eating you?’

And the band played on.


Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

Proxenetas

Pergunto-me se, caso o estabelecimento fosse detido por um proxeneta português, se seria fechado e se este estaria em prisão preventiva.

É legitimo que venham para ser exploradas como prostitutas mas ilegítimo explorarem o negócio?

Referencias:

TSF: GNR detém 20 brasileiras num bar de alterne

Mar


Clique na imagem para ampliar

quinta-feira, setembro 09, 2004

Portugal, a Florida da Europa

Algo que eu já advogo à bastante tempo, talvez mesmo a nossa única solução como país. A ler mais detalhadamente no Consumering.

quarta-feira, setembro 08, 2004

Às vezes fico preocupado com a sanidade mental de quem coloca alguns comentários neste, e noutros, blogs. Mais frequentemente preocupo-me com a minha sanidade mental, que para alem de me ser infinitamente mais próxima me é mais necessária. Ou desnecessária, vá-se lá saber!

segunda-feira, setembro 06, 2004

Ossétia do Norte

394 mortos registrados na morgue principal, faltam os dados de outras morgues, mais de 150 crianças mortas. O total de mortos pode ascender aos 600...

Centenas de crianças feridas e traumatizadas. Como se lhes explica? Quem pode defender este tipo de acções?

Nestas alturas o reconfortante é ser ateu.


sexta-feira, setembro 03, 2004

"Blogar" via e-mail

Resolvi começar a colocar posts aqui no Blog via e-mail. Acho bastante prático, uma vez que o Outlook é presença omnipresente quase todo o dia.

Guterres como Trunfo

Ontem ao desfolhar o JN dei com a "caixa" de uma entrevista a Manuel Alegre que me deixou boquiaberto "Não é legitimo Sócrates usar Guterres como trunfo". E eu pensei com os meus botões que só mesmo quando se faz campanha para uma horda de asnos é que se pode ter o Guterres com trunfo.