This creation  its  completely finished and prepared for next work.

Making process:

http://www.edisk.cz/stahni/06986/common_working.pptx_7.06MB.html

http://www.edisk.cz/stahni/73488/Maps_and_task.ppsx_13.75MB.html

Ayer me compre un nuevo par de zapatillas con dinero del blogging, me costaron baratas y la verdad que están muy bonitas. El tenis es todo de un color, en tono gris y tiene un parecido a las Dunk pero con un estilo más skate.

Las zapatillas son un tipo Dunk medio con suela de Blazer y acabados de skate. El forro interior es de cuero, algo muy ‘lujurioso’ para mi

Ya me esta empezando a gustar esto de tener dinero por bloggear para gastar

Aquí las zapatillas:

Espero os gusten. ¿Qué opináis?

Aéroport de Moscou, Vladimir Poutine (Gangsta Gangsta !) attend en frétillant nerveusement dans les sous-sols. Une ombre s’approche. Les deux hommes se checkent khôya.

Sefyu -Salut Vlado.

Vlado -Agent Molotov, je content voir vous. je avoir mission pour vous. Reçu ordre pour vous aller en France régler compte à rap Français. Je pas pouvoir rester longtemps, je avoir chiasse. Tenez, ça être pognon, flouze, flouze, mucho dinero.

Sefyu -Acide ! Et puisque je vais en France, je peux fumer Jean Pascal ?

Vlado -Rien avoir à branler. Je maintenant aller caguer, bistro ! Bistro !

Vladimir Poutine s’en va en courant les fesses serrées puis lâche un gros cake dans les toilettes. Sefyu s’embarque donc pour la France après être passé par le hall de l’aéroport et avoir acheté des cacahouètes sucrées à des Pakistanais et des Hindous.

Il arrive à Roissy Charles de Gaulle et c’est déjà la merde. Il croise un arabe barbare et barbu, Médine, qu’il laisse passer. Sûrement du au syndrome de Stockholm. Bientôt se sont les poursuivants de l’arabe qui arrivent à sa hauteur.

Sécurité -Eh ! Vous ! Pourquoi ne l’avez vous pas arrêter ?

Sefyu -Pourquoi faire, crouille ?

Sécurité -Vous en voyez souvent des gens courir dans les aéroports ?

Sefyu -Oui. Des gens en retard. Acide !

Sécurité -Oui mais pas des arabes. En France on veut des aéroports sans rebeus. Vous allez nous suivre.

L’agent Molotov du les suivre, il ne pouvait pas griller sa couverture à peine arrivé.

Sécurité -On a fouillé vos sacs… Bon bah y a rien…

Sefyu -Quoi ? Y a même pas mes slips ? Merde alors.

Sécurité -Mais si y a vos affaires, mais on a rien trouvé de suspect. D’ailleurs vos slips sont très propres, je veux dire pour un noir, je vous félicite.

Sefyu -Qu’une seule adresse : Le_Golfeur. C’est crr crr !

Sécurité -Par contre je les trouve super grand, c’est pas normal.

Sefyu -C’est parce que ‘Wahou’ est la taille de mon sexe.

Sécurité -Mouais… Ou alors c’est parce que vous cachez des choses dans vos slips. Déshabillez vous ! Maintenant !… Ah ? Bah effectivement, avec votre bite vous mesurez 4 mètres…

Sefyu -Je peux faire un retourné acrobatique avec mes couilles.

Sécurité -Vous pouvez y aller. Mais je vous préviens vos papiers ne vous permettent pas de rester en France, seulement y séjourner temporairement. Vous êtes bien gentils les noirs mais on a déjà assez de rappeurs, de danseurs, de sans papiers ou de chefs d’Etats dictateurs en exile.

L’agent Molotov prend ensuite un taxi.

Sami Naceri -Où est-ce qu’on va ?

Sefyu -Direction Villier Le Bel, Acide !

Sami Naceri -C’est parti ! Je vous conseille de mettre votre ceinture.

Sami Naceri fonce à travers le Val d’Oise en échappant à tous les contrôles de routine, néanmoins il écrasera Kenza Farah. Ils arrivent à destination. L’agent Molotov va à la recherche de son contact tandis que des jeunes viennent voir le chauffeur de taxi.

Les jeunes de cités -M’sieur ? On peut brûler ta caisse ? C’est pour monter une assoce.

Sami Naceri -Si si ! Vous voulez un cendrier dans la gueule ou quoi ?

Sefyu arpente un immeuble en construction (ou en démolition, on sait plus bien) il demande son chemin à des Portugais qui mangent de la morue.

Sefyu -Oh !? Les carailles, je cherche mon contact pour qu’il m’aide dans a mission secrète.

Les mecs de La Harissa -Ouais, il est là bas.

Notre agent top secret arrive donc face à Téquila, il lui donne alors le mot de passe à base de ses fameux gimmicks.

Sefyu -Zaefyu ! Acide ! Crr crr ! Crouille !

Téquila -Hun ! Hun ! Tcht Tcht ! Jamiroquai !

Avec une dernière interjection aussi conne, ça ne pouvait être que lui.

Sefyu -Tu as les armes ?

Téquila -On a du les faire venir par la poste. Il faut aller les chercher.

Ils vont donc à la poste et demande à l’Antillais au guichet s’ils ont un colis au nom de l’agent top secret Molotov.

Francky Vincent -Zoukez ! Zoukez ! Que puis-je pour vous ?

Téquila -Aïe ! Tu dois avoir un colis pour l’agent top secret Molotov, va le chercher.

Francky Vincent -Je vais voir ça, ça glisse Alice !

Sefyu et Téquila attendent une heure dans le hall de La Poste… Ils décident alors d’en avoir marre. Ils vont de l’autre côté du comptoire et trouvent le guichetier Antillais en train de faire la sieste dans un hamac.

Sefyu -Oh ?! C’est pas acide ça. Qu’est-ce que tu fous ?

Francky Vincent -Vous étiez pressés ? Je suis désolé. Je termine ma pause dans 5 heures et j’arrive.

Téquila -Vas-y Francky, c’est bon. On va se démerdez seul.

Sefyu -J’ai vu une maroquinerie en arrivant, Crouille, on va y aller.

Téquila -Tu vas trouver des guns dans une maroquinerie toi ?

Sefyu -Non, mais on y trouvera sûrement des Chinois…

Effectivement, c’est un Chinois qui tient la maroquinerie.

Sefyu -Crouille ! Tu peux m’aider à trouver des armes à feu ? Ce serait bien acide à toi.

Super Chinois -Bien tûr ! Te tuis très doué en informatique. Hi ! Hi ! Hi ! Te vais lanter une recerce.

Le Noiche tape alors sur son ordinateur et lance la recherche. Une sonnerie retentit.

Sefyu -C’est les résultats.

Super Chinois -Ah nan désolé euh ! C’est mon four micro onde, te fais sauffer du riz.

Une deuxième sonnerie, cette fois ci c’est la bonne. Le Chinois indique à l’agent top secret Molotov où il doit aller pour s’armer.

Macson Escobar – Alors comme ça tu veux des armes ? Allons-y ! Aux armes !

—Pom Pom Pom— (à suivre)

Les bonus – Super Chinois : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lfq_r_Wajb4

Lyrics de “La légende” : http://www.rap2france.com/paroles-sefyu-la-legende.php

Sefyu – Pucc fiction (Remix) – http://www.rap1pulsif.com/mp3.2831.sefyu.pucc.fiction.remix.html

Aux armes – http://www.dailymotion.com/search/macson%252Baux%252Barmes/video/x4yn95_escobar-macson-aux-armes_music

Senegalo Ruskov ! Molotov !

Elifas Andreato é artista de muitos carnavais.

Mais de 62 desde que nasceu na pequena cidade paranaense de Rolândia.

Sua história tem muitas alas de destaque: a política, a musical, a teatral, a jornalística, a boêmia.

Andreato transbordou poesia nas capas de quase 400 discos do melhor da música nacional. E emoldurou seu nome no altar da arte plástica brasileira.

Os long plays de samba que assinou rasgam dor qualquer do coração.

Pintou e bordou para Chico Buarque, Paulinho da Viola, Zeca Pagodinho, Clementina de Jesus e Martinho da Vila. Entre centenas mais. Se falamos, contudo, dos dias de Momo e Colombina, a história precisa começar em 1976, quando ele foi carnavalesco da Camisa Verde e Branco, tradicional escola de samba de São Paulo.

Aquele carnaval ainda tinha a sombra mórbida do assassinato do jornalista Vladimir Herzog nos porões do DOI-Codi em outubro de 1975.

A ditadura dividia a consciência.

A cena de Vlado dependurado pelo próprio cinto ficaria na cabeça de Elifas até pouco tempo.

Ele criou em 2008 a versão vitoriosa de Vlado.

Em bronze, com braços e mãos para o alto, a peça foi símbolo de um prêmio especial sobre direitos humanos.

O peso pesado de Vlado ainda era de defunto quente.

O carnaval precisava ser belo.

E foi.

“Fui tricampeão. Foi uma escola para mim, conviver com o barracão, com a comunidade, cuidar de tudo”, lembra Elifas.

Só depois da Camisa Verde e Branco que Elifas trabalhou com os sambistas Paulinho da Viola e Martinho da Vila, pintando aquarelas e pinturas a óleo com as marcas da cultura de raiz.

Abandonou as capas de disco porque, segundo ele, mídia e música mudaram.

“Não vale mais a pena fazer. Naquele momento em que produzi, a música era brasileira e ponto. Hoje não”, lamenta.

Às vésperas deste carnaval de 2009, Elifas atendeu Terra Magazine disposto a lembrar. Mais.

Reviver um carnaval perdido, guardado no seu baú. Melhor, numa caixa do ateliê.

- Vou te contar uma história que você vai ficar tão impressionado como eu ainda fico. É uma beleza.

Tudo começa com o convite de Rildo Hora, “o maior produtor e arranjador de samba no Brasil”, sentencia Elifas.

- No começo dos anos 90, a pedido a gravadora Sony, Rildo gravaria os melhores sambas da história das escolas do Rio para uma série comemorativa. As próprias escolas escolheriam seus sambas-enredo e ele gravaria. Fez um texto belíssimo para a coleção e me convidou para ser o capista.

Elifas faz uma pausa para inspiração.

“Fiz uma série de um marchetado em papel. Colagens uma a uma. Fiz uma pesquisa para descobrir qual ala era mais tradicional em cada escola. E trabalhei com um enredo diferente para cada uma”, explica.

- Fiz mestre-sala e porta-bandeira para a Vila Isabel; ala dos compositores para o Império Serrano; passistas para Estácio de Sá; as baianas na Mangueira; abre-alas na Beija-Flor.

A capa da Mocidade traz ala da bateria a percorrer uma avenida da direita para a esquerda. A sombra dos percursionistas ao fundo contrasta com serpentinas e confetes. Em primeiro plano, o tambor, a caixa, a cuíca e o pandeiro, todos tocados por músicos com a aura repetitiva da alegria.

Num clique de computador, as gravuras que tinham uma versão digital chegaram até Terra Magazine por e-mail. Os leitores poderão conferir aqui algumas delas aqui nestes dias de folia.

Para o artista plástico, só o resultado final do conjunto da obra é que decepciona:

- Tudo isso nunca foi lançado pela gravadora. Tanto para mim, quanto para o Rildo Hora, nunca deram uma razão sequer. Uma coisa que ninguém jamais soube explicar. E criou expectativa também em todas as comunidades do Rio. Nada foi divulgado.

Uma baita ressaca de folião na quarta-feira de cinzas.

Ainda assim um belo carnaval.

Fonte: Terra Magazine

25 de outubro de 1975. Rua Tutóia, São Paulo. Endereço onde ficava o conhecido e tão temível DOI-CODI.

Naquele dia os gritos do jornalista Vladir Herzog foram ouvidos por todos os outros presos. Homens e mulheres que militavam contra a repressão. Foram choques elétricos e socos que fizeram Vlado gritar tão alto.

Os colegas das salas vizinhas viram por baixo do capuz os sapatos de Vlado entrando no prédio. O diretor de jornalismo da TV Cultura havia sido intimado a dar explicações sobre uma possível ligação com o Partidão, nome dado ao Partido Comunista Brasileiro.

Depois de tanta angústia, ninguém escutou mais nada. Nenhum berro, nenhum choro, nenhuma demonstração de pavor. 

Em algumas horas a notícia que poucos acreditaram: Vladimir Herzog cometeu suicídio. O corpo foi encontrado enforcado em uma das celas. A versão dos militares não foi sustentada. Herzog foi assassinado. Mais uma vítima da Ditadura Militar.

Hoje, Vladimir Herzog é símbolo dos jornalistas. Profissionais que não sofrem mais com a repressão, mas muitas vezes esbarram na auto-censura.

A história que marcou a fase final da Ditadura provoca revolta de um tempo que acabou com tantas vidas.

Milhares de pessoas acompanharam o enterro do jornalista, que não foi enterrado nos cantos do cemitério, como manda a tradição judaica quando alguém comete suicídio.

Herzog virou um símbolo da luta pela liberdade e a defesa dos direitos humanos.

I haven’t been that good at updating on my life day-to-day but the rumours about Livejournal dying have made me want to document things even more (that, and the fact that my memory is horrible is becoming more and more apparent). I never saved the entries from the last Livejournal I had and I don’t remember the username or password so a big chunk of my life has basically just disappeared. It was probably all teenage angst but I’d still like to be able to look back on it in ten years. So now I’m attempting to copy and paste over 1000 Livejournal entries because I can’t figure out how to work that LjArchive thing. Goddamit.

Some things that have happened in the last few days…

I developed some photos from New Year’s Eve. A lot of them were too dark to be developed but here are a few that did and that I really liked. The one of Emma is my favourite. As she put it: “gotta love a cig and a bottle of warm champers at 7am”.

Jasmina turned 21. We started celebrations at her place with cheese, crackers and cake and then drove to Newtown for drinks at a quiet little pub I think was called Cooper’s. We took over the smoking room and got proper drunk. It was goooood. Jasmina and I had a heart-to-heart in the bathroom. haha. There was a bit of trouble on the way home but it got sorted out eventually and all was well. Fun times. (More photos here.)

I saw Tegan & Sara play. Thanks to The Dwarf, I went to their concert last night at the Enmore Theatre. It was reaaaaaally good. I’ll be writing my review soon so I won’t say much more here except that the crowd was ridiculously good-looking and I want Sara’s babies. Oh and when they played Nineteen I almost cried a few happy tears. I cannot believe I’m turning 20 soon. I’m not handling that fact all that well. But anyway, it was a lovely show and it’s so strange how funny the both of them are when compared to how sad their lyrics sometimes are. The supporting bands, The Jezebels and An Horse, were also really good. (Photos by ANNIE LY.)

I played basketball. Well, sort of. I threw the ball around a bit, barefoot, in a skirt, whilst smoking. I have skills to pay the bills, obviously.

Christmas happened. January 7^th was the Orthodox Christmas. Being a filthy atheist and all, I always dread these sorts of events. The upside was that my Canadian cousin Vlado came over for lunch so I got to sort of catch up with him and make fun of his accent.

I haven’t written anything other than a journal update or review in a long time, and it’s becoming really frustrating. I need something new, exciting, inspiring, motivational….and I don’t know what that is. I’ve been mostly having a good time. There have been new and interesting things in my life, and I’ve reconnected with old friends, and I’ve been having fun, and people from my ancient past have contacted me (people from Serbia) and still…..I feel like I have nothing to write. It’s really, really, very frustrating for me.

My research efforts related to studying organizational learning networks are becoming more and more international. This time we published a paper together with Spanish colleagues from University of Castilla-La Mancha. The paper citation is Sánchez de Pablo González del Campo, Jesús David; Guadamillas Gómez, Fátima; Dimovski, Vlado; Škerlavaj, Miha (2008): Exploratory Study of Organizational Learning Network in a Spanish High-tech Company, Proceedings of Rijeka Faculty of Economics – Journal of Economics and Business, 26(2): 257-277.

Here is the abstract:

The paper presents an exploratory study of the intra-organizational learning network in the context of a Spanish high-tech company. It expands the generalization of the network perspective to intra-organizational learning. Based on an exploratory social network analysis, we formulated four propositions that will be developed and contrasted in a later confirmatory study. First, the exploratory analysis demonstrates the importance of industry experience and tenure within the company as a common denominator of most central employees within learning networks. Second, similarity in terms of experiential level breeds mutual learning. Third, complementarity of knowledge is important for the formation of learning ties. Fourth, physical proximity creates opportunities to learn. Future research will need to test these four propositions in a confirmatory study.

Proceedings of Rijeka Faculty of Economics – Journal of Economics and Business is a new SSCI ranked journal (indexed since July, 31 2008).

This is me attacking the Birthday Boy.

Wednesday

Wednesday was my friend Drazen’s 20^th birthday. It was also the day my Canadian cousin Vlado’s older brother Zoran came to Australia. There are three brothers, the sons of my dad’s brother, and Zoran was the only one I hadn’t seen since I was a baby and therefore too young to remember him. He’s about 30 now and he’s an artisteeee. It could be the age difference, or maybe just a personality clash, but I got along with Vlado much, much better. They’ve both gone to New Zealand now. They slept over at our place before my dad drove them to the airport in the morning. So I hung out with them during the day before heading over to Liverpool in the evening to see Drazen for his birthday.

I met up with Nenad at his place in the fucking ghetto (seriously, that area of Liverpool makes me feel like I’m stuck in one of those tales-of-inner-city-American-life movies), then we walked over to Black Rose where we met up with Nikola and Jasmina. Drazen’s family was having dinner and his annoying-beyond-words brother came outside to have a cigarette and insisted on sitting with us and questioning us like a teacher on what we’re doing. He made a snide remark about me being an Arts student. I didn’t make any comments but seriously…he’s one person that really shouldn’t pass judgment on others. Anyway. We ended up having a few drinks at Legends….which has been cleaned up and is now called Macquarie Hotel and is a shiny gambling hellhole really. Sasa, Mark George and Bodin joined us also. Then off to this little barbeque area behind Drazen’s building to smoke. Sasa left, we convinced Mark George to smoke weed, Bodin still refused (and refused to let me dress him up in tight jeans) & Nikola and I ‘officially’ started talking again! Fun times. Then we drove around a bit, ended up in some park in Carramar, Bodin and Mark George left, and we drove down to a lake in Lansvale. It was actually quite nice considering its location. Really quiet and peaceful and completely unexpected…I mean, a lake!

It was a good night.

I’ve been feeling down but I have ways of dealing.

Yesterday I met up with Kylar in the city and we went to American Apparel where he spent forever trying on clothes as I wished I’d been born a boy because their clothing is much better. Except for the heel-wearing girls get to do, but I’d wear heels even if I was a boy, and I don’t actually get to wear heels much now because I am a giant and also don’t really know how to walk in them. Anyway, the customers at AA bugged me a little but the employees are lovely, and Kylar bought green jeans. Then we had coffee at Bill and Toni’s, wandered around…I guess we wandered around a lot because I sort of lose track here and we end up at Jet…oh yeah, we went to get Kylar’s novelty lighter fixed but that didn’t really work out. We saw Albert so he joined us for a while at Jet. He was waiting for a friend who was an hour and a half late and we left a little after she arrived. Kylar went home to feed the cat and I went home to watch too much TV, then talk to Nenad until 3^rd Rock From the Sun was on at 1.30 in the morning, doing lots of sit-ups in between because I have lost my mind and think that sit-ups are the cure for everything. (Since 10^th November, I have done 1120 sit-ups and 450 crunches altogether. Go me!)

Today looked good to start with, then absolutely everything turned to shit rapidly, I did some crying, etc and then decided I had to make myself feel better or else, so I left the house in a hurry, went to the city with about $5 to my name & walked up Broadway giving my resume out (I am so desperate for a job I even gave my resume to that horrible Goth-by-numbers store near Easy Way). Then I walked further down to the University of Sydney where I met up with my sister and we walked to Newtown where she bought us Thai food for lunch and we wandered King St for a bit. By this stage I’d basically completely forgotten how miserable I’d been earlier. I just need to keep myself distracted. Then we went back to her uni, to her interesting but sort of depressing lab (it’s fascinating but spending long hours there would be horrible) where she finished an experiment. To my disappointment there was no fire, smoke, bubbling liquids…nothing. Science isn’t as fun as they make it seem on TV! Then we headed homewards, and she continued towards Liverpool to meet up with friends.

My Canadian cousin Vlado was at my house; he’d had lunch with my parents and so we hung out, talking, watching TV, etc. I found out he’s got a job at the same place Kylar works, so I warned him about it. Oh and then I got my grades and that sort of brought the good mood to new levels.

So the downside now remains that I am broke as a fucking joke, have no idea how to get any money, am on constant bad terms with my mother and my sister is going away for the weekend! But I’m ok and am seeing Die! Die! Die! & Ohana tomorrow regardless of the money situation…I’ll figure something out (dentist money, anyone?).

Adoro os vampiros. É o tipo de vilão mais sexy que existe, por mais que o trio pescoço + dente + sangue me dê uma certa aflição.

O meu preferido certamente é o Gary Oldman em “Dracula” (1992), de Francis Ford Coppola. A hora em que ele lambe o sangue da navalha que o Keanu Reeves usou pra fazer a barba deve ser uma das cenas mais sexies da história do cinema.

Ele não lê os livros de etiqueta da Glorinha Kalil

Agora, os vampiros voltam a ser o hype do momento: desbancaram até 007 entre os filmes mais vistos nos EUA graças a “Twilight”, ou o “Crepúsculo”.

Vi calendários deste filme em (momento “morra de inveja, plebe”) muitas livrarias gringas durante as férias. Achei meio “The O.C.”.

Só com a ajuda do Google um detalhe veio à tona, e mudou a minha opinião a respeito da história: o protagonista é um ator chamado Robert Pattinson, cujo sucesso eu já havia constatado em (momento “eu sou geek sim, e estou vivendo”) “Harry Potter e o Cálice de Fogo”.

Ele interpretava um rapazinho incrível chamado Cedrico Diggory, um tipo inexistente na vidinha colegial mundana: além do nome divertido, ele era bonito, inteligente e gente fina. Ou seja, um “popular-legal”, coisa que não existe, certo?

Cedrico estava interessando numa chinesinha sem graça, a Cho Chang. E esta fulana é outra que não existe (aliás, é rara, mas existe – isto é tema de um outro post): mesmo sem o menor apelo, conseguiu atrair a atenção dos caras mais tops da escola, tipo, o bonitão-veterano-pop-incrível e o aluno mais famoso e comentando do pedaço, o famigerado Harry Potter. Na boa, (momento ” tão geek que dá vergonha alheia”) e a bonitinha Hermione tem que catar o Ron Weasley, aquele ruivinho que só faz careta?

Pattinson protege o próprio pescoço

Bom, toda esta história só pra dizer que adorei o visual loser-atormentado do garoto em “Twilight”. Em mais um momento Google incrível, descobri que a mocinha chama-se Kristin Stewart, a filha chata da Jodie Foster em “O Quarto do Pânico”. Ela está repaginada, parece até uma gossip girl.

Ah, para quem é rico e tem HBO, os vampiros da vez estão na série “True Blood”, que deve estreiar em breve por aqui. Dizem que tem mais sexo do que sangue. E para quem é pobre, na TV aberta quem bomba é o Vlado, vampiro maldoso interpretado pelo bonitão Daniel Aguiar. É a democracia vampiresca.

These photos were taken with Malakai, my Canon EOS500.

My sister, Jelena, getting ready for her Postgraduate Ball. She hates having her photo taken so I had to sort of chase her around with the camera.

The sunset looked amazing one day.

ANNIE LY at the Newtown Festival

Me! Taken by Zig, I think.

Kylar being a trashbag in Victoria Park & Hyde Park.

Rude Boy showing us her new song & how booty shaking is done (with Jo).

Annie & Jo

My Canadian cousin, Vlado, at the Glebe Street Fair.

I stalk Annie a lot.

NO PANTS REVOLUTION

Yesterday was preeeeeetty rad. Annie and I went to the city where we met up with my Canadian cousin Vlado who is doing the backpacker thing across Australia. I hadn’t seen him for a little while and in that time he has managed to travel through the Gold Coast, Byron Bay and Nimbin and meet some Japanese Rastas who played Bob Marley songs on their guitars. We went to the Glebe Street Fair which was basically impossible to move through because of the crowds. There were a few interesting things but it really wasn’t very exciting. I made Vlado try Easy Way taro milk tea and once he did, he said he would never doubt me again. It is seriously like liquid cake. Soooo good. Then he went back to his hostel because he was sleep-deprived and we headed to Oxford St. I wanted to develop some photos but everything was getting ready to close by then so we went to Hyde Park instead where I read aloud from this fucking hilarious pamphlet I picked up at the Glebe Street Fair – “God’s Guide to Sex”. It’s so good I’ll be writing a separate entry here with my favourite bits from it. Let’s just say that this was one of the conclusions we drew from it…

Annie: So you know now what will happen the next time you pick up a joint?

Me: I’m going to have sex afterwards?

And they say drugs are bad for you!

Then we moved to another part of Hyde Park where there was a Christmas tree and lots of tourists looking really excited about it and taking awkward photos next to it. So I had to do the same… Annie and I came to the conclusion that we are incredibly offensive people and if anyone overheard our conversations, they would hate us. We have to censor a lot in everyday conversations with other people. “Yeah roll up your jeans; that’s attractive.”

I showed Kylar a photo of the Luhv Of My Life and he responded with “is that a man?” Bitch.

I think I’m getting sick again. My immune system hates me. The plan for this week is: work today; write essay before I fail History; hang out with Aleks and Anita, and also Kylar sometime; dentist and seeing Outrun on Friday; hang out with my sister on Sunday; figure out how to buy my sister a birthday present, my Girl Talk ticket and my Kings of Leon ticket, and pay back Annie for my Prodigy ticket – more shifts at work? Nooooo.

& finally…

You don’t fuck with The Fuck Whats. The Fuck Whats fuck with you.

Esse é o título do livro-reportagem escrito pelos queridos da minha sala (além de mim), neste nosso último ano de faculdade. A propósito, logo menos o livro será devidamente lançado e vocês saberão quando isso acontecer; digo que este dia está bem próximo, assim ligeiramente próximo.

A nossa inspiração (e tema principal) foi o Vlado, para os mais chegados – e com este livro, nos tornamos íntimos de sua vida de certa forma -; Vladimir Herzog, para todos. Brasileiro de coração, jornalista-exemplo, pai, marido, teatrólogo, professor, cinéfilo convicto, camarada, e pescador nas horas vagas.

Em ‘Outras Faces de Herzog’, assino a apresentação do livro, mais o capítulo ‘O esposo’ junto aos meus amigos-jornalistas Thalita Arifa (majoritariamente) e Ramon Barrueco. Para o nosso espaço, só poderíamos entrevistar uma única pessoa: Clarice Herzog. E nós conseguimos. Clarice foi de uma tamanha generosidade em se dispor para contar a sua relação com o Vlado e detalhes de Herzog como pessoa, conjugê, enfim. Foi bem interessante mesmo.

No entanto, infelizmente, Ramon e eu não pudemos estar ao lado da nossa representante quando ela foi falar com Clarice. Mas, tenho certeza que a Thalita (com h) nos representou com todo o empenho do mundo e fez valer o nome bonito que os seus pais lhe deram, yeap.

Depois do encontro com Clarice, no seu escritório lá na Brigadeiro Faria Lima, Thalis teve um start ’sou fotógrafa’ e fez alguns registros de Sampa City.

E a Paulicéia ficou interessante sob a ótica Arifa.

UPDATE:  Suspect found dead

(June 24, 7:55am PST) “Murder he wrote” (ABC News)

“The last victim, a 65-year old female, was found with 13 deep wounds on her skull and multiple rib fractures,” Kotevski told ABC News. -ABC News

(June 23, 4:45pm PST):  “The shocking story of a newspaper crime reporter who knew too much” (The Guardian UK)

When Vlado Taneski wrote about the serial killer stalking his hometown in Macedonia, his eye for detail was such that the story was soon riveting readers. The journalist’s inside knowledge of the brutal murders of three elderly women in the tiny town of Kicevo ensured that newspaper editors gave his columns prominence. -The Guardian UK

(June 23, 4:51am PST):  The BBC is now reporting that murder suspect Vlado Taneski has been found dead in jail.  According to the BBC’s Web site, police say Taneski committed suicide by “putting his head in a bucket full of water.”

-additional news articles:

Belfast Telegraph:

“Vlado Taneski committed suicide. He put his head in a pail full of water.

“It is unclear how none of his cell mates or guards noticed while he was doing so.

“He ended like in a horror movie,” a police spokesperson said.

The Guardian (UK):

Taneski was arrested on Friday at his home in Kicevo. Police found pornography in his home and took “biological material”, which they allege is a DNA match for samples taken from the victims, from his summer cottage in a nearby village on Saturday.

(also from The Guardian)

Ljupco Popovski, the editor-in-chief of Utrinski Vesnik told the Associated Press everyone there was “shocked” by the news.

“I know him as an exceptionally quiet man and I would never believe that he is capable of doing something like that,” Popovski said.

“He used to work for us till January this year. He was for more than 20 years a correspondent for the daily Nova Makedonija and he got the highest merits for his journalistic job there in the mid 80s. I remember that because I was at the same daily at that time.”

( June 22, 2008 ) A sensational story is emerging in Macedonia, where a newspaper reporter is charged with raping and murdering two women.  Police believe the suspect is linked to at least one additional murder.

Initial reports suggest the suspect had a severely poor relationship with his late mother and took out his anger on the victims, ultimately cutting them into pieces.

The investigation appears to have turned its focus on 56-year-old journalist Vlado Taneski after his stories included unreleased details about the murders.

According to the British Broadcasting Corporation’s Web site:

Police allege that he kidnapped and abused the women, in their 50s and 60s, before cutting them into pieces and dumping them in plastic bags.

“He is also suspected of being involved in… [the disappearance of] a 78-year-old female who is still missing,” said police spokesman Ivo Kotevski.

“All victims were found naked, strangled, wrapped with phone cables,” the spokesman said.

All the women apparently had similarities to the suspect’s late mother, with whom he reportedly had a poor relationship.

More information about this story is available at the BBC’s Web site.

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Links

http://www.artoffer.com/vlado

http://www.vlado.li/

http://www.vlado.li/testimonial1.htm

http://vladofranjevic.slide.com/

 http://www.ruggell.li/

http://www.vlado.li/

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