I’m sure you noticed I changed things around a bit. I hope you like it. Thanks all for reading!

Descoberta do dia: Reginaldo Rossi foi professor de física!

Imaginando, toda essa pinta, aquela voz, explicando as leis de Newton:
As alunas deviam ir à loucura! (*gritos histéricos*)

Diante dessa incrível descoberta, resolvi postar algumas curiosidades a respeito do maior físico de todos os tempos:
MacGyver! Isaac Newton!

• Newton era extremamente cristão (anglicano); segundo ele, suas equações explicavam o movimento dos planetas, mas não como ele foi iniciado. Em suas palavras: “Deus governa todas as coisas e sabe tudo que é ou que pode ser feito”. Chegou a prever o fim do mundo: ocorrerá em 2060, de acordo com o Livro de Daniel (já vejo até o slogan do filme: “2060: os maias estavam errados”).
• Possivelmente, Newton morreu virgem. Sim, podem dizer: “Puts, sabe falta do que um cara que criou essas equações tinha?”.
• Uma das frases mais usadas para mostrar a modéstia de Newton, “Se vi mais longe foi por estar de pé sobre ombros de gigantes.”, foi enviada numa carta em resposta a Robert Hook (esse mesmo, da lei de Hook, das molinhas!), que se sentiu injustiçado por não ter sido citado por Newton no Principia, por suas contribuições para a Lei da Gravitação. Hook possuía baixa estatura.

Anyway…

Preciso comprar uma câmera digital. Além de um óculos de Sol. E uma HD externa. E é claro, o presente de Aniversário/Natal para a namorada.

É, o XBox360 fica pro ano que vem.

…

Bom, eu até tinha mais assuntos para comentar, mas minhas anotações foram tomadas de mim (Valeu, Katatau!).
Espero retornar amanhã! E citando o colunista com o trabalho mais fácil do Brasil, “Vai indo, que eu não vou!”.

Comentário Aleatório: Algumas pessoas dizem que olhar para baixo enquanto andamos é sinal de fraqueza; bom, hoje graças a isso, encontrei 50 contos no chão! \o/

Dass die Kultur im Web 2.0 angekommen ist, das hatte ich ja schon an anderer Stelle festgestellt. Da macht die Kulturhauptstadt 2010 nun keine Ausnahme. Allerdings ist das doch ein klein wenig anders bei zwanzig10.de. Denn das ehrenamtliche Projekt ist von den Ruhrbaronen, Stefan Evertz und Jens Matheuszik – und möchte die Berichterstattung von unten bündeln. Aber schön der Reihe nach…

Die Rubrik “Ruhrpilot” wird man kennen, wenn man öfters die Ruhrbarone aufsucht – so ab und an ist auch mein Blog dort erwähnt – die Kategorie sammelt Links mit einem kurzen Anreißertext über Themen aus dem Ruhrgebiet. Und da der Verweis immer wieder auf die Quelle selbst geht finden – meistens – die Diskussionen über die Themen bei den Quellen statt. So ähnlich wird auch das kommende Projekt zwanzig10.de aussehen: Links, kurze Anreißertexte. Ein Planetensystem, in dessem Zentrum alle Aktivitäten rund um die Region stehen und auf dessen Planeten rundrum dann die Raumschiffe pendeln können.

Anmelden: Jetzt!

Die Webseite selbst steht noch nicht im Netz, aber man kann sich schon mal anmelden gehen. Per Mail. Diese wäre mitmachen (at) zwanzig10.de. Das Ganze ist auf ehrenamtlicher Basis. Und einmal dürft ihr raten wer da im nächsten Jahr ebenfalls mitmachen wird – ach was, wenn ihr den Link geklickt habt wißt ihr es ja eh schon. Genau… (Wer immer noch meint mein Leben sei langweilig – nein.)

Primeiramente, VITÓRIA!!! \o/

Depois de longas horas na frente do computador consegui terminar TUDO que tinha que fazer no estágio; depois das provas, começar a estudar os artigos pro mestrado…

É, antes disso tenho que vencer radioterapia e medicina nuclear. A última não me parece muito difícil; quanto a primeira…
O professor é mestre (será que ele tem mestrado?) em pedir trabalhos massantes, sem declarar o valor do mesmo.

O primeiro foi um sobre o HISTÓRICO da radioterapia. Nas palavras dele: “Umas 20 páginas tá bom.”.
O segundo dizia respeito à criação de uma tabela (devidamente comentada) de porcentagem de dose profunda (relação entre a dose máxima e a dose na profundidade dada), para diferentes energias, utilizando uma equação zoadíssima [log a -1? What a hell is this??? (depois de alguma discussão) Sim, era 10 elevado a x... quem escreve assim???].
Finalmente, COPIAR a mão mapas de isodose totalmente hipotéticos. Só 30.
Inconformado, no momento estou terminando esse.
Ah, último comentário: TODOS os trabalhos pedidos são facilmente encontrados em livros de radioterapia.

Imagem Aleatória

Anyway…

Me convidei pra participar de uma banda de MPB, formada pelos meus professores da faculdade, como baixista. Já me passaram umas 30 músicas pra tirar: desanimei na primeira. Nunca toquei esse estilo, ainda mais numa banda semi-profissional (estúdio e tudo, uau!). Vou precisar de tempo, coisa que com essas provas e esse trabalho não disponho no momento; esse primeiro ensaio (segunda agora) tende a ser um desastre…

Afinal, príncipe que é príncipe tem que tocar baixo! (interna, para Elaine)

Anyway 2…

Nunca gostei do Dawkins (repúdio aos best sellers, parte II): Biologicamente bem argumentado, mas alheio ao histórico e à filosofia da religião; dificilmente faz uma crítica capaz de converter um crente bem fundamentado. Parece que é só dizer que o Gênesis não é historicamente crível para destruir a religião. As pessoas que realmente acham isso necessário dificilmente darão ouvidos aos seus argumentos. Parecem-me livros voltados para ateus que ainda estão ligados a sua religião.
Li uma ótima crítica sobre o livro do filósofo francês André Comte-Sponville: O Espírito do Ateísmo. Vou dar uma olhada; depois comento a respeito.

Comentário Aleatório: Meu, deu uma vontade jogar aquele joguinho de Ski de sei lá que windows. YEAH! SkiFree! Download aqui! (32Kb!) Descobri que apertando “F” no teclado, o esquiador vai mais rápido e dá pra fugir do Abominável Homem das Neves!

Ontem a noite, mandei para o brogui uma dica para a gambiarra do dia, essa foi a gambiarra:

e o resultado foi esse:

Isso com apenas algumas horas do post, Valeu mesmo pela força Caio!

Final de semana longe do PC, acredito que isso vá acontecer com uma frequência (sem trema fica estranho…=/) considerável. Sábado passei com a Elaine (muito bom!) e domingo aniversário do meu pai…

Decidi andar com um bloco de anotações. Esqueço muito rápido o que digo, ou seja, perco muitos comentários aleatórios.

Estou meio assutado. Ando muito autista. Figuras de linguagem estão me confundindo; sarcasmo e metáforas não estão sendo rapidamente processados. Ontem minha namorada comentou que comeu “uma panela de brigadeiro” e me veio a mente uma panela feita de brigadeiro… Acho que vou parar de assistir The Big Bang Theory, tô pegando isso do Sheldon. Fim de ano também colabora pra isso.

Imagem Aleatória

No momento, rodando uns programas da iniciação científica. Que inferno: demoram 2 horas (sem exagero) pra rodar e dar erro. ¬¬

“Versão brasileira, Herbert Richers”. (*nostalgia*)

Algumas contribuições que me marcaram, devidamente comentadas:

Desenhos:

• Animaniacs (“Olááá, enfermeira!“)
• As Aventuras de TinTin (Eu diria mais: vai sair filme!)
• Capitão Planeta (“Pela união de seus poderes eu sou o Capitão Planeta!“)
• Caverna do Dragão (“Uni!!!“)
• He-Man (“Eu tenho a Força!“)
• Nossa Turma (“Get along gang, get along gang…“)
• Popeye (“Popeye, socorro!“)
• Superamigos (“E no palácio da justiça...”)
• Thundercats (“Espada Justiceira, dê-me a visão além do alcance!“)

Séries:

• ALF (“Aqui, gatinho, gatinho…“)
• Família Dinossauros (“Dino da Silva Sauro!“)
• Power Rangers (“Hora de Morphar!“)
• Um Maluco no Pedaço (*dancinha do Carlton*)

Filmes:

• A História Sem Fim (Sebastian, Falco e Atreio, era assim???)
• A Lagoa Azul (*seção da tarde*)
• Brinquedo Assassino (clássico trash)
• Free Willy (“Vai, Willy!“)
• Falcão – O Campeão dos Campeões (“Quando eu viro meu boné…“)
• Highlander (“Só poderá restar 1!“)
• Meu Primeiro Amor (tenho medo de abelhas até hoje por causa desse filme…)
• Stallone Cobra (“Você é a doença, eu sou a cura!“)

Isso sem incluir as novelas do SBT…

…

É, ficaremos sem essas…

Comentário Aleatório (como se os outros não fossem): Joguei Burnout ontem. Bom jogo pra desestressar. Em resumo: corra igual um louco, e quanto mais barbeiragem você fizer, mais rápido seu carro fica. Isso sem contar quando o objetivo é simplesmente empurrar seus adversários pra fora da pista.

(* Esse post ficou longo demais… *)

Bom dia!
Como pensei em escrever um diário a respeito das aleatoriedades do meu dia, polímata me pareceu um bom nome. Talvez um pouco presunçoso; mas isso o tempo vai dizer.
Estou me formando em física médica, mas trabalhando com bioinformática, o que me faz ter contato diário com os mais diferentes tipos de pessoas. Físicos, biólogos, biomédicos, informatas, médicos… Pretendo seguir carreira acadêmica.
Minha namorada estuda zootecnia, mas no momento trabalha com animais peçonhentos… “Mas você não era ovo-lácteo-vegetariano?” Sim, ainda sou. Mas isso é só um detalhe; amo muito essa moça! =)

Gosto muito de ler; infelizmente, nos últimos tempos não tenho conseguido. Só não me venham com Dan Brown, Paulo Coelho, JK Rowling, Stephenie Meyer e semelhantes!
Finalmente, em casa, meu pai possui uma agência de publicidade, e boa parte do serviço acaba sobrando pra mim. Final de ano, estamos montando a lista telefônica da cidade.
…
É isso. Um blog de memórias… Quem sabe um dia vira livro?

Boa noite!

Primeiro post, tentando entender como funciona o mundo dos blogs na era Twitter.

(* fuça, fuça… *)

É… Acho que dá pra começar…

Na web, mais um blog totalmente útil para toda a comunidade mundial!

E vamo logo que eu já to com sono!

You know, I thought NaBloPoMo would kick-start the writing-fu again. I thought if I just pounded something out every day, eventually I’d get better, more interesting, or funnier. Or something.

That doesn’t seem to be happening.

Meh.

Song du jour of the day: Mary Lou Lord. The Lucky One.

Me llegó a casa un inofensivo catálogo del Lidl con cinco o seis páginas con instrumentos musicales y accesorios: guitarras, bajos, baterías, taburetes, atril para partituras, bongos y hasta armónicas. Fui a por esto último, sin confiar en que nada de eso pudiese estar en un Lidl que básicamente es más parking que supermercado, y, en efecto, las armónicas por cuatro euros no estaban (¿agotadas?) pero allí, cerca de los congelados, quedaba una guitarra eléctrica con su amplificador y algún taburete.

No sé, imaginé a un grupo nutriéndose de instrumentos de marca blanca allí, en el puto Lidl, y me pareció algo triste y desolador, como estar condenándose de antemano. Imaginé a una señora mayor preguntando a un encargado asqueado de la vida: ¿Se os ha acabado la serie Road Worn de Fender con pastillas tex-mex y el mástil en arce? (tecnicismo extraído del número 11 de la revista ‘Cutaway. Guitar Magazine’).

Una coincidencia: tenía en la cabeza la frase tonta “y formaré una banda de rock / eso es lo que hago mejor”, extraída de la canción ‘Maggie despierta’ de M-Clan (una versión de Rod Stewart). Me subí al autobús y sonaba por la radio; no tardó mucho en caer esa frase. Nada del otro mundo: debe ser una de las canciones más radiadas de la banda. Una rareza: en Teletaxi TV vi (sólo estaba zapeando, lo juro) el videoclip ‘Nosotros somos los zíngaros’, de Los Planetas. Salen peluches recreando escenas y al final se les encaraman a los miembros del grupo mientras tocan en el estudio. Divertido. ¿La pinchará Justo Molinero en la radio, entre Leo Rubio y los Cantores de Híspalis?

Un descubrimiento: ¿Sabían que Juan Pardo es gafe? En los ambientes musicales, se rumorea que la sola mención de su nombre tiene efectos devastadores. El dato aparece en el libro ‘Sin vuelta atrás. Conversaciones con Ariel Rot’. Hay un momento en el que el guitarrista argentino tiene que hablar del personaje por una relación en cuanto a estudios de grabación y las siglas usadas son JP. Luego el entrevistador aclara que se refiere al ex miembro de Los Brincos y al que formó un dúo con Júnior pero nunca se nombran los dos motes malditos, como si fuera Pepe Vélez, no sea que.

¿Que por qué cuento todo esto, esta arbitraria ristra de antianécdotas pseudomusicales, cual diario adolescente? Porque llevo una semana (el tiempo en el que han sucedido estas cosas) sin demasiadas ideas, quizás por estar dándole vueltas a una lapidaria frase atribuida a Frank Zappa (aunque algunos dicen que es de Elvis Costello), que para meterle caña a la crítica dijo un día: “Escribir sobre música es como bailar sobre arquitectura”. Grande, ¿no? Da, al menos, para reflexionar un poco, o solucionar un artículo cuando amenaza la sequía creativa, como un instrumental si no salen las letras o igual que decir ‘Todo lo que tengo que decir es que no tengo nada que decir’, como cantó Fito (Cabrales) en su mejor disco. ¿Crisis? Considérenlo sólo mi disco en directo, mi prescindible recopilatorio navideño. O el inicio de una nueva etapa, más madura, más personal, más reposada, como dirían los artistas del montón en las entrevistas promocionales.

raúl

… yet. It’s actually quite the opposite: I’m alive but quite busy. It’s hard for me to find any time to write anything for the blog. I’ve been writing quite a lot recently, most of which you can read in this article.

To be more specific: I wrote an introductory article about basics of Haskell for a polish computer science portal. I put quite some effort in it (~25h), but I hope there are people that will benefit from it greatly.

Ghana: Day Two

There are a few things worth mentioning.

One, that I’ve had to “break into” the building three times. As  mentioned yesterday, my room is inside a guest house of some kind; and my neighbor, who I rarely see, has the only key to unlock the door. Two details: he insists on locking the door when he leaves, which like I said is at complete odds with my schedule; and the lock is an actual bolt, not just a handle lock. So not only have I had to break into the building three times, I’ve had to break out if it as much as well. Here’s how that works: the door is actually a set of double doors, and the fundamental flaw in bolting double doors is that if both doors are loose, there is enough give to open them simultaneously. That’s a handy fact when you’re on the inside and can see the latch keeping the fixed door in place; but when you’re on the outside, trying to get in, there’s a few more parts to that equation. Specifically, two broken deck chairs (as a stepladder), one partially dismantled window (I removed a plane of glass, temporarily), and one really dirty arm (the window sill above the door was, is, and forever shall be nasty). Throw in some amused children to complete the picture, and you’ve got yourself my morning and evening routine.

Two, roosters. Specifically, the ones that start cock-a-doodle-doo-ing at 2am, and continue, right outside your window, every five to fifteen seconds (I timed it), indefinately. Having that begin, after a heat-and-Mefloquin-induced night of vivid dreams, tied up in the kevlar cocoon,  is not a pleasant morning.

Naturally, I got up at 4:45 AM. Not that I have any right to complain about the time – everyone here wakes up at 4, does their chores, showers, and the kids leave for school at 8:07 (they said), come home, do their homework, play, and everyone seems to be in bed by 8:30. So really, I’m in a timezone somewhere far, far away; the point is, though, that waking up at 4:45 AM after lots and lots of travel just physically hurts – I’m going to try to eat something but no promises about keeping it down.

Regardless, my morning was productive. I managed to rig the mosquito net in such a way that it regains most of it’s effectiveness, and then proceeded to devise some exercises that a six-foot-two person can do in a five-by-three space. I’m predicting that I’m going to be working out a lot, since a) between the hours of 8 until 2, there’s nothing to do, b) the only way I’m going to be able to sleep is if I physically exhaust myself, and c) I’m probably going to end up shirtless occasionally, seeing as it’s still hot. After these shenanigans, I decided to see if I could help at all with getting the kids ready for school; I arrived in time to dry off some of the younger boys who were showering, and to help sweep the grounds.

Sweeping the grounds is another one of those totally new things for me; not that I haven’t swept before, it was an integral part of my old job at Swanson’s. What was new was watching all the kids do it; first because they spread out in an unspoken but organized fashion, then because they totally focus on the job, then because they do it really quickly and effectively, and finally because they use a gigantic brush made out of what I think are small palm leaves, dried and tied with shoelaces or ribbons. This is a clever invention in that not only is it easy to make, but it sweeps better than most brooms I’ve seen – and you can use them as a giant pair of tongs, by separating the the leaves and grabbing the trash with them. Another unique aspect of these brooms is that the bundle will loosen as you work, so you have to continually stop and pound the leaves back down (it’s hard to describe, I’ll try to get a picture).

After volunteering, and having the boys teach me how to sweep (I’m still not very good, apparently) I ventured back to my room to rest until the boys had gone to school, and I could walk around the area outside the orphanage in search of breakfast and adventure. It’s 8:45 now, so I’m going to leave soon – I’ll be seeing my friend again this morning in a bit, and then I’m truly on my own here. There are international volunteers coming today, from what I’ve heard, who work during the week and stay at the Salvation Army. Most of them are European, and I might end up befriending them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sick. I’ve been sick for a few days, but I was hoping it would go away before I left; it hasn’t, and instead it’s slowly getting worse. I’ve never had anything like it before – it’s almost like the right side of my head is malfunctioning. It started a few days ago with a canker sore on the underside of my tongue (which is honestly annoying enough), and now there are some on the bottom right side of my mouth and one on my gums on the right side. I’ve been brushing religiously, and i rarely eat junk food. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve tried lancing them with a gum strengthener soaked in hand sanitizer, which works really well but I have yet to decide if that’s actually a good idea. I’ve been sleeping on either my right side or my back so that it doesn’t spread to my left side (I think it’s just a nasty cold, since my lymph nodes are inflamed on the right side) and this morning I woke up with my right ear and right nasal passage plugged. If it spreads or gets much worse, I might end up having to return home early.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am not, by nature, a poet, but rather, by nature, I am inspired. When this happens, I write. Apparently. You have to understand, up until the end of the school year this year, I’ve never been happy about writing anything (Deathssay, the first thing I enjoyed writing, I’ll post later); and yet now I won’t shut up.

The reason for this revelation is because I went on a walk this morning. As walks go, it was fairly mundane – just a stroll around the orphanage; however, I wasn’t alone. In fact, the walk wasn’t my idea or even really my choice. As it happened, on my way to breakfast, I ran into a mute and slightly touched in the head girl, whose name I still don’t know, but with whom I embarked on a fantastical journey through the orphanage. I still haven’t had breakfast.

And this is all the explanation I’m going to give for “Ode to a Morning Walk with a Mute Girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is an extremely vocal goat outside my window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I finally managed to leave for the bank, to change my currency, and ChurCheese, for lunch. This being my first real foray into the city, I learned a lot more about my surroundings. The first thing you notice, that I should have been more careful about, is that every guy wears slacks – not just jeans, nice slacks. With dress shoes. Ah well, if they couldn’t figure out that I was a tourist before I’ll be easily identifiable now (ha ha).

The next thing is that there is a type of beauty in this sparse, dry, open area – a lot of the flowers, trees and bushes in the estates near the orphanage are blooming in full color right now; there vivid pinks and yellows, fruity reds, purples and oranges, and even the greenery seems to thrive.

Finally, there are about four times as many taxis s there are cars. Taxis are everywhere – and they would be very popular if not for the trotro, a sort of bus that I have yet to experience.

Of course, when you’re wandering around noticing things for the first time, things are bound to notice you – enter Nicholas. As I’m walking down the street, this Ghanaian kid with a sachet of water (very popular here – not always good for tourists) falls into place walking next to me. He’s a bit wiry, wearing a Spain soccer jersey, and the first thing he asks me is if I’m a footballer, and I say no – he says that I look like one. He plays all the time – and oh by the way, where are you staying? I tell him at the orphanage, and we get to talking about that; apparently he has a bunch of friends there (as later find out, the orphanage is a sort of community center, especially since they have satellite tv). It turns out he’s waiting for someone to show up at the orphanage around three o’clock, and is just killing time until then. What about school, I ask, since that’s where almost the entire orphanage is right now; that, and I passed one cross the street from orphanage with children playing football (you know what I mean) in the courtyard. He told me that he actually has two days of midterms, and gets out of school early – would I like to go to the beach with him tomorrow, around 11? Being me, adventurous, foolish, or whatever, I say yes, and tentative plans are formed.

Meanwhile we traipse to the bank, with Nicholas asking directions of random passer-bys, change some money, and make our way back up to ChurCheese. It’s completely empty, which is slightly disconcerting, but we sit down anyway, and when the waitress comes over I chat with her about Ghana, this being my first time and what foods she could recommend; I still don’t know exactly what I got but it was good, and cheap. Nicholas got a chicken something (it’s typical for tourists to take kids out to lunch) that he shared with me, also good; and the rice that came with both our meals (they were out of chips) was borderline addictive. Keep in mind that ChurCheese is like a more full-service fast food joint, think Marie Callendar’s or Applebee’s but with a gigantic playpen. For some reason, our service was crawling (I think we waited easily 15 minutes for our food, and we were the only people there) but Nicholas and I talked and watched the plasma tv on the wall that was playing the top ten South African music videos (the number one spot went to some song by The Parlotones with a great music video that I’m going to check out).

Post-food found us back at the orphanage, where I immediately ran into my friend, turned around, and saw the rest of the crew that had come over from the hotel. My friend gave the tour, again, and everybody just absolutely swooned at the toddler’s house (it’s really hard not to, I do every time). I got to talking with one of the crew (who I think was actually the boyfriend of one of them but lives here) and he told us that there had been some issues with orphanages selling babies, into labor or any of that category of horrible outcomes; that’s why I was originally asked for those police & medical reports.

We finished up the tour pretty much at that point, but not before my friend introduced me to two of the volunteers that were here with Projects Abroad. I don’t remember their names, but I do remember their countries (Germany was feeding the kid in the wheelchair, England was playing with the toddlers under the tree in the courtyard) and their generally cold shoulders. I used to be sensitive to people generally showing disinterest in you from the moment they meet you, but it’s still a little disconcerting; more so when you’re gambling your social life on them.

At this point it was around 1:30, so my friend and I headed to the library so I could begin helping kids with there homework, a task that I later found involves less math, science and reading skills than a loud voice and the ability to physically restrain a large number of children at once. I began by helping Dwuly with his multiplication tabled, which he actually knows fairly well; and then moved on to helping him with his reading, which is not particularly easy when they have a heavy accent and a lisp. And when they primarily mimic you; I guess that’s more normal than I thought, but a lot of what would happen when I read with the kids is that they would try to perfectly mimic what I said, without even looking at the page. I’ll have to think of something a little different for tomorrow.

But here’s where things do a total handstand – Frank, Andy and Laura. Frank, to the best of knowledge, helps out in the library and is a really nice guy; I think he invited me to go golfing with him on Friday which would be totally random and really, really fun. He’s looking for a netbook, so I’m going to have him take a look at this model eventually.

Andy is one of the two “new” Projects Abroad volunteers. He’s been in Ghana for about a month and a half, in the Volta and Ho(?) regions, but I think he just got into Accra. He’s an eighteen-year-old Buddhist from England and loves Bob Marley and giving his number out to random people (he listed off everybody in his phone book, which was amusing).

Laura is, at this point, my saving grace. She and Andy showed up during the tutoring session and helped out/ saved my life, and we got to talking a bit. She’s nineteen, from England, and here with Projects Abroad but on her own – she’s actually taking a gap year, which makes me really excited, since now I realize I’m not the pariah of the academic experience. The reason she’s my saving grace, though, is because she offered to show me around, take me to the beach and get a cell phone – and just generally hang out, a pleasant and welcome surprise after the other two Projects Abroad volunteers. I’m still to sure what Andy’s doing, but I’d like to hang with him too.

That evening i showed Laura where Celsbridge was, and she had a chicken sandwich with chips and I mooched off her, but not before I had tried my luck with ordering the goat pepper soup. Yes, the goat pepper soup; take three parts “indeterminate mass of bones, meat, and what I think were intestines, most likely from a goat” and two parts “peppers from hell, or paint stripper, whichever you can get your hands on first”, and throw it all in a blender. Serves one foolhardy tourist. I have never, and I promise you, never, tasted anything so spicy in my life; it was good, but after the third sip it felt like it was eating through my stomach lining (just to clarify, that’s not a literary device. It did actually feel like it was eating through my stomach). Hence, Laura was nice enough to let me eat some of her food, and satiate the lava monster in my intestines. Pleasant visual.

We got back after I stocked up on some water, and the rest of the night was uneventful. Andy and Laura left abut ten minutes after we got back, and I spent a bit talking to Okorse, Daniel (the soccer player, not Moses’ brother), and a few others. Daniel actually invited me to his football game on Sunday which I eagerly agreed to attend; and we walked down to the end of the block to look at this street vendor that sells something having to do with movies (Like pirated dvds on steroids, they advertise as being the best collections of a certain genre or theme with up to 3000 minutes of footage. Slightly dubious). Finally, Leon and I ended up talking (he wouldn’t let me go back to the room and go to bed) which is when he told  me his story, which I unfortunately didn’t fully understand; I might get him to e-mail it to me, since from what I could understand it’s a good story if it’s true.

Then I escaped to my room, lay down, and promptly fell asleep.

Ciao Ragazzi. E’ arrivato il tempo di parlare del futuro di questo blog.

Dopo poco più di un anno e mezzo di vita ed attività, i numeri di LogopediaUniPa parlano da soli: 316 post pubblicati, 4100 commenti, e quasi 420mila visite totali.

Questo nostro blog è cresciuto esponenzialmente nelle visite, nei commenti e nell’utilizzo. E’ diventato una fonte d’informazioni per tutti: per noi Studenti in primis, seguiti anche da Professori, da gente che ruota attorno all’Università, al mondo della Logopedia e non. Naturalmente tutto questo grazie a voi.

Al di là dell’autoincensamento inutile, spero vivamente che a ciascuno di voi questo blog abbia portato delle notizie rilevanti, dei consigli utili o semplicemente abbia aperto l’accesso ad una piazza dove incontrare gente e, perchè no, fare una risata insieme ai colleghi.

Il mio impegno per questa forma di comunicazione è sempre stato dettato dalla passione; passione che ha dovuto remare contro i tanti impegni, il tempo a disposizione, la forza di volontà e i momenti di sconforto.

L’impegno non manca, nonostante gli sforzi siano direttamente proporzionali alla crescita di questo nostro spazio. Ma è anche vero che, se le cose continueranno ad andare positivamente, non resterò in questo CdL ancora per molto (spero ).

Il punto è questo: se pensate che questo blog possa continuare ad esservi utile in futuro, allora ci sarà bisogno di collaboratori affinchè possa continuare la sua strada nella nostra organizzazione da studenti del Corso di Laurea.

Diverse persone si sono già messe non solo a dispozione, ma anche all’opera per aiutarmi nella gestione di questo blog (e le ringrazio pubblicamente); ma c’è bisogno di più mani.
Le intere sezioni, le diverse tematiche e il raggruppamento di tutti gli anni in corso e fuori corso, non possono gravare su un’ unica testa.

Per questo motivo penso sia opportuno che all’interno di ogni anno, ci sia almeno una persona incaricata e responsabile di occuparsi del blog e di pubblicare le notizie realative al suo anno (ed anche le notizie extra).
Che ne pensate?

Se quindi hai la volontà di metterti a disposizione, se ti piace scrivere, se ti piace stare davanti al computer, se navighi su internet, se leggi diversi blog, se ti piace “smanettare” con le immagini, o se hai già un tuo blog, sei un candidato ideale per occuparti del nostro LogopediaUniPa.

Non ti preoccupare delle conoscenze o competenze tecniche! Qui nessuno avrà bisogno di utilizzare linguaggio di programmazione o HTLM. Vi aiuterò sicuramente per i primi passi, e vi accorgertete subito che sarà più facile di quello che immaginate.

Pensaci! E se sei interessato mandami al più presto un’ email con Nome, Cognome, Anno di Corso, due righe sulle tue competenze con il computer ed eventuali esperienze da blogger.

Non appena si sarà formato il nuovo gruppo di responsabili di LogopediaUniPa, vi illustrerò sul da farsi e ci metteremo in contatto per “l’organizzazione pratica”.
Per qualsiasi domanda invece potete scrivete come al solito tra i commenti, oppure sapete dove rintracciarmi.

Spero in una vostra risposta entusiasta.

Francesco C.

This is now the second time I’ve missed my blogiversary.  Only missed it by a week this time, though, instead of almost a month!

Mr_faust said, “Fuck you, Owen.”

I was intrigued.  I read the link, and I’m forced to agree: Owen Gleiberman, possibly through no fault of his own, has not grasped the point of Let the Right One In.  Let me show you two quotes from his review:

Where, I want to know, in all this girl/boy, normal/vampire, angel/demon spiritual diddling is the heat, the confusion, even the anguish of young love?

And, sorry, I still think it lacks coherence. Why do a bunch of cats turn demonic and attack a woman who has been attacked by a vampire? And why the sudden, excessive carnage of the swimming-pool massacre?

Are you confused or not, Owen Gleiberman?

Yes.  You are confused.

And this is a point of the movie: the confusion of young love isn’t confusion about love exclusively.  It’s confusion about everything in life.  Why do things appear to happen suddenly? Because when you’re young you have no clue about how to unravel cause and effect, intent and circumstance, mistake and resulting cock-up.  When you are young things simply happen.

This is blindingly obvious to your detractors, many of whom are young, but despite watching it twice with a trained eye, you have missed it. Consider the “utter lack of reaction” you decry as “totally false” and “uninteresting.”

This moment literalizes, and sentimentalizes, one of the most enduringly facile of all trendy academic ideas: that gender is just a “construct,” and therefore far less important than it seems.

It’s called an ideal.

I get that you miss things, so read that again: it’s called an ideal.  The point isn’t that in real life, gender doesn’t actually matter.  It’s that gender shouldn’t matter.  That is what makes protagonists heroes: they go a little beyond what is realistic, what is plausible, and they show us a world of the impossible.  If this is false, it’s false in the way that Superman bouncing a bullet off his chest is false.  It’s false in the way that Neo kicking Agent Smith through a wall is false.  It’s false in the sense that a hero standing up for what’s right and always getting the girl at the end of the movie is false.  It is a necessary falsity, because the entire movie is a construct of fiction.  This is how film works.

Gender ambiguity – or more precisely, gender equality – doesn’t sit well with Owen Glieberman.  Merely because something is “trendy” (and how “trendy” gets mixed up with “academic” beats me) does not mean that it is false. I could point out that equal rights for women has been a social justice issue since before Constantine ruled Rome: hardly “trendy” by any normal use of the term.  But more importantly, consider that the long history of abuses of women has been perpetuated precisely because people – people like Owen Glieberman – denied gender equality as an ideal.  If it’s silly to think of women as being equal to men, then it follows logically that women cannot have the same rights as men.  The entire slippery slope of sexism proceeds from that fundamental idea of inequity: the glass ceiling, the concept that it is okay to talk about a secretary as a “hot piece of meat,” non-virginal status used against the female victim in rape cases, and so on.

If men and women are really, truly equal, then all of this becomes quite impossible. It stands revealed as the absurdity that it is.  And if, in relationships, the protagonist is always expected to react with shock and horror because they got someone’s gender wrong, that denies the existence of bisexuals.  It denies the concept of love that transcends gender.

Owen Glieberman does not, perhaps cannot, see that.

His loss.

I get these 3-day headaches. I’m in the middle of one right now. Maybe I should ask the doctor about that during next Friday’s getting-to-knoooooow-yooooouuu appointment (“kennismakingsafsprak”). Or maybe I’ll forget. I always forget what a blessing being healthy is, until I’m not.

Happy Halloween everybody. Bit of a bummer here, we didn’t do anything. Because I have this headache, see…

Song du jour of the day: Thriller, by Michael Jackson! All fourteen minutes of it. Hooo hoo!

Peço desculpa por não ter nenhum post ontem, o agendamento do WordPress me falhou pela primeira vez =(

fiquem agora com uma fotinha do zina

O olho vermelho é por ter brilhado muito, na cadeia.

Por sinal, bem que ele podia variar né? Ronaldo! já deu o que tinha que dar (ôpa).

-Dieguito, brilla mucho en Argentina. Y también ole el polbo blanco como yo!

How can I commit to blog every day when my internet keeps pooping out? KPN did some service-thingy that was supposed to last from midnight to 6 a.m. a couple Tuesdays ago, and we had no internet (and since they go through the same router, also no phone) until the following Monday. Six DAYS, people! It was a time of great frustration, and maybe it is just as well that I couldn’t blog, because I could have gone into great detail about how much I hate KPN, and I wouldn’t want to bore you. But truly, one Very Happy Thing about leaving Germany was not having to deal with Telekomm again, and frankly? KPN’s enough to make me miss them.

I’ve always wanted to live in Spain too, but actually, now that I think of it, people who’ve done it say “Telefónica” in the tone of voice usually reserved for “Margaret Thatcher.” Food for thought…

Anyway. First day without DrBob, mostly home with a sickish child (the Sniglet woke up with a headache, and since they only had a half-day of school scheduled today, I figured what the hell), and I managed to clean the bathroom. God, sometimes my life is so glamorous I can barely stand it. Did I tell you that DrBob is invited to the Peruvian Embassy? For a reception for Mario Vargas Llosa? I am not invited.

Drat it.

Song du jour of the day: Real Wild Child, by Iggy Pop.

Y es que la razón de ser de este blog no es otra que la de mantener la información retenida (por llamar especialmente mi atención) en el transcurso de las clases a las que acudo y los trabajos que realizo para las diversas asignaturas del que será mi último año y medio en la universidad.

Cierto es que debería haberlo hecho antes, cierto es también que lo he ido plasmando en otros medios. Dicen que más vale tarde que nunca, no perdamos el tiempo.

Un uomo non diventa adulto con la crescita dei peli pubici, o col primo orgasmo, ma nel momento in cui può aprire un finanziamento a proprio nome per l’acquisto di un iMac 27″.

Woah, been a while since the last post. I’ve been directing my rants at Twitter and Facebook in the intervening period. Trouble is that those posts are actually read by (eurgh) people, especially so with Facebook. Blogs are mostly frequented by search- and spambots, my target audience. I’ll continue with Twitter, to entertain the spambots that haunt that realm.

“What’s been going on with you?”, I can hear the searchbots wail. I’m no longer single after having been set up on a blind date by my colleague with a Romanian girl. We’ve been on holidays to Egypt and survived, so it’s looking good, although I don’t want to jinx it. She hates photographs of herself so you won’t be seeing much of her on Flickr.

My fascination with basketball is waning. I still love the game, but I hate refereeing and I’m increasingly frustrated about my level of play. It’s not official but I might retire. I guess that’s how I am, completely obsessed one moment and then I drop it like so much dead weight.