SHADOWS IN THE SHADE OF THINGS TO COME ,,,,,AI COME COME .......E DA SOMBRA NASCEM TODOS OS MESSIAS E SOMEM-SE NA SOMBRA TODOS OS SOCRATES OSTRACIZADOS COM CASCAS DE OSTRA ....A ERA DOS MOLUSCOS CAIU SOBRE VÓS ...VENHA A NÓS A PÚRPURA IMPERIAL OU AO MENOS O PURPUR DO FRAGOSO ...E DAS SOMBRAS A 40ºC BEM FODIDOS À SOMBRA SAIU SOCRATES DA CAVERNA E VIU A LUZ .

RESTA A FUGA PARA A FRENTE SOCRATES ANUNCIA A FUGA SEM FAZER UMA RUGA ....O PROCURADOR NEM O CONSEGUE ACUSAR NEM LHE DÁ UMA PRECÁRIA PARA IR AO HOSPITAL DA CRUZ BENFIQUISTA A NOVA COVA DA IRIA NAZIONAL

THE MESSIAH FOG .....DAS NÉVOAS MÍSTICAS QUE VOMITAM MESSIAS CHEIOS DE MECEIRAS E DOUTRAS MALUQUEIRAS THE FOG LOCKS UP A LARGE PART OF THE PRECIOUS PHOSPHORUS THAT IS LUCIFER OR HORUS OR HOCUS-POCUS THE MESSIAH WHICH IT HAS TO ABSORB FROM THE NAZIONAL SOIL FULL OF NAT-SOZIS

E DOS NEVOEIROS RASTEJANTES 

OS MESSIAS ERAM VOMITADOS EM HORDAS IMENSAS

OS NEVOEIROS RASGAVAM-SE EM FARRAPOS NAS COSTAS MOURAS

DO TAL PAÍS CHEIO DE GREGOS

E DE CADA GOTÍCULA EM SUSPENSÃO

NESSE AEROSSOL DESCONTINUADO

UM MESSIAS BRILHAVA AO PRIMEIRO RAIO DE SOL DA MANHÃ

INFELIZMENTE ERA ABRIL E CHOVIA

E OS MESSIAS ENCHARCADOS AFOGAVAM-SE ANTES DE BRILHAR...

MAS AMANHÃ AMANHÃ

A.S.E L.H.A ACRONYM SEARCH ENGINE LIBERAL HARD AND......HIRTO COMO UMA BARRA DE FERRO... H.A.M. HARMONIC AUTORITY MASTERPLAN ,,,,,P.R.E.S.U.N.T.O. = PLANO RECORRENTE ELABORADO SOCIALMENTE UNITÁRIO NATURALMENTE TRANS ONERADOR OU PLANIFICAÇÃO REPUBLICANA ESTACIONÁRIA SUPRANUMERÁRIA UTÓPICO-NACIONALISTA TRAULITEIRA OTARIALISTA OPERÁRIA OBREIRA OTARIAL ÓPISTOTIRA... OPERACIONAL O P. PHODE SER PLANETÁRIO PLENIPOTENCIALISTA PLANO RELATIVISTA OU RELAPSO EVOLUCIONISTA SUPLENTE OU SUPLEMENTAR UNIFICADOR OU UINTATÉRIO OU U'TANAS NABOSEIRO OU NABABOSISTA THALASSOTÉRICO OMANOTOPEICO OU ONANISTA OU ÓMONOMANÍACO? TEM POLIMANÍACO? BIMANÍACO TROIKOMANÍACO ISSO TEM MEU BEM..... PLANO RECÍPROCO ESCALONADO SUBSERVIENTE UNTUOSITÁRIO NAPOLEÓNICO TUBERCULOSO ÓSCARALHICO P.R.E.S.U.N.T.O.S. HÁ MUYTOS Ó SEU P.A.L.E.R.M.A. = PALHAÇO AFINFADOR LINGUARUDO ELITISTA REVOLUCIONÁRIO MADRAÇO-ANARQUISTA

MISTER MANGE-TOUT TONIGHT WITH JONATHAN ROSS UM TIPO ADAPTADO AO FUTURO CONSEGUE COMER TUDO DESDE BICICLETAS A COMPUTADORES O QUE DEVE DAR JEITO A MUITO INSTITUTO DAQUI A UNS ANOS A DÉCADA DE 90 MAL COMEÇA E JÁ ESTÁ OBSOLETA COMO A ARBALETA NÃO TEM INDIGESTÕES TEM BOAS TRIPAS MUITO ÁCIDO NO ESTÔMAGO PROVAVELMENTE ATÉ HF (FLUORÍDRICO) POIS COME VIDROS

ALÉM DO COMPUTADOR COME UMA ROSA

ASSI EVITA SER ENVENENADO PELO LIXO TÓXICO DO COMPUTADOR

ÀS 5 E 30 FIVE A.M DE CADA MAÑANA VON CHAQUE MORNING

ORDENHO AS VACAS DO CARVALHO

I ORDENO THE VACHES DU CARALHO

EU.....I....AHN ....HANS SOLO ? GAMOS ET CORÇAS ÀS 2HORAS TWO AM

ARE GOING TO WORK DEVEM SER SOVIÉTICAS PRA TRABALHAREM A UMA HORA

DESTAS É FIM DE SEMANA ....SAIMOS DO U.K ÀS 20 HORAS 8 PM DE SEXTA-FEIRA

FRIDAY FREITAG TIME ACORDO NA GERMANY PLA SEGUNDA VEZ ÀS 5 E MEIA

PARA TRABALHAR 15 MINUTOS

ORDENO AS VACAS E OS BOIS

I GIVE ORDERS TO THE COWS AND THE BOYS AND THE BOLSHOI COWBOYS

DEPOIS É DIFÍCIL MAS VOLTAR A ACORDAR ÀS 8 E 15 PARA REORDENAR

O SEGUNDO TURNO DE SUCATEIROS INDA VAI SER MAIS

BRAZIL FROM DEBT TO DOUBT AND BACK FROM THE GETULISMO TO THE RAINBOW OF LULAS DAS SILVAS IN MENSALÃO VON COLLOR DE MELO QUE GAMMA GAMMA GAMMA FUTEBOL É ASSIM MESMO NÉ ...PENSADOR QUE INVENTOU BRASIL E SE ESQUECEU DE DISTRIBUIR OS DIVIDENDOS DA INVENÇÃO ASSIS NÃO MERMÃO

Pensadores que inventaram o Brasil 

  Narloch defende, QUE PENSADOR QUE INVENTOU BRASIL ERA MENTIROSO PACA.......através de pesquisas históricas, que grande parte das máximas defendidas por estudiosos da história do Brasil são irreais ou distorcidas

EM PORTUGAL PENSADOR É TÃO LERDO

 QUE PRA INVENTAR PORTUGAL

CONTRATOU O FILHO DE UM FRANCÊS 

QUE ASSINAVA DE CRUZ

POLÍTICO PORTUGUÊS É TÃO ESTÚPIDO 

QUE NEM CONSEGUE INVENTAR MENTIRA QUE PEGUE ...

 

Antes de assumir uma cadeira no Senado Federal, em 1983, e assim efetivamente iniciar uma trajetória política culminada por dois mandatos presidenciais consecutivos, Fernando Henrique Cardoso militou no debate público sobretudo por meio de intervenções na imprensa escrita, que o tornaram conhecido fora do âmbito universitário. Alguns artigos, revistos e alterados pelo autor, formam um dos núcleos deste livro, devotado aos intelectuais brasileiros que forjaram a visão de FHC sobre o país, sua identidade e suas grandes questões. Outros textos são inéditos na forma em que publicados agora. Entre estes estão ensaios sobre Joaquim Nabuco, Gilberto Freyre e Raymundo Faoro. O último foi escrito especialmente para o volume; os outros dois serviram de base para conferências, respectivamente, na Academia Brasileira de Letras em março de 2010 e na Feira Literária de Paraty (Flip) em agosto do mesmo ano. Os demais capítulos compõem-se de introduções para a edição de livros de alguns autores, discursos ou homenagens prestadas que foram posteriormente enfeixados em livros.
Nos dezoito textos, FHC dialoga com seus mestres sobre os temas recorrentes que unificam o volume - o embate entre Estado e sociedade civil, o legado da colonização, as vicissitudes da democracia, os entraves ao desenvolvimento econômico, a promoção da justiça social. Mas além da fina análise dos textos, sempre feita com grande verve narrativa, o ex-presidente contextualiza obras e autores, muitas vezes tratando do impacto pessoal que os últimos lhe causaram. De fato, em alguns casos, se trata de afinidades não somente intelectuais - por circunstâncias geracionais e entrecruzamento de vida, FHC se beneficiou do contato direto com vários dos autores cujas obras comenta no livro. É o que ocorre com Florestan Fernandes, de quem foi aluno e assistente antes de serem colegas e vizinhos de rua, assim como com Antonio Candido, também professor e mais tarde colega. Ou ainda Celso Furtado, com quem dividiu uma casa em Santiago nos breves meses em que o grande economista trabalhou na Cepal depois do golpe de 1964, e Caio Prado, que a exemplo de Florestan e Sérgio Buarque fez parte da banca de doutorado do futuro presidente, e com ele conviveu no final dos anos 1950 e inícios da década seguinte, quando era o inspirador da Revista Brasiliense, com a qual FHC colaborava, sem falar nas desventuras de militância ao redor do Partidão.
Pensadores que inventaram o Brasil é assim leitura obrigatória para entender as visões que deram forma às tentativas clássicas de explicação do país, e um convite a refletir sobre a relevância dessas análises ante os desafios do futuro

THE THOUSAND NAMES OF SATAN PER SOCRATES O GREGO NO PÊRO DA COVILHAM - NAT-SOZI BETWEEN TWO NAZIS SEDE FELIX ARABIA? KHALIFA HISTER IS NAZI OR NAT-SOZI? THE C.I.A. VON PINOCHET C'EST PLUS NAT-SOZI QUE O ARANZEL DE RAPUNZEL IN RANGEL OR IS IN RANGE L JÁ SE ARRANJA O TOUREL ...THAI NAZI SE CHAMA ASSIS OU ASSAD NATIONAL SOZIALISMUS N'EL ABYSSUM QU'ATRAI AS PALAVRAS PAGAS AOS ABISMOS DE SOLIPISMUS SOLIPSISMOS

NAT-SOZI FICA LOGO AKI Ó ALI BEN ALI

solipsmsio; solipmsosi; solipmosis; solipmoiss; solipssmoi; 

solipssoim; solipmssoi; soliposism; solipiossm;

 solipismos; solipssomi; solipsmois; solipsoism ...

FALANGES ROLANTES DE PALAVRAS

NAT-SOZI IS MORON FELIX?

ALMANEGRA DIACHO DIANGAS DEMOGRE NABU NABO QUE É VEGETAL AFINAL

NABON VISCO NEGRO DA ALMA VIL

ALMA ESCURA ALMA OBSCURA 

ALMA DAS TREVAS QUE NÃO NEGAS 

ASSIS OU ASSAD FALAR COM O DIABO É AQUELE QUE SOZINHO FALA 

DIAGO DEMON DAEMON DIANGRA DECHO DIALHO  

DAR-SE A TODOS OS DIABOS É VENDER-SE A TODOS OS POLÍTICOS 

VOTAR EM TODOS OU ENFURECER-SE COM TODOS...

NUM POVO DE CORNO  MANSO

FICAR BRAVO É SER NAT-SOZI OU NAZI DA CORTE DE SATAN 

POOH SIR TECHNICAL ZEITGEIST IN YOUR PERSONAL BOBOT BY VAN BOT THE IDEAL EARLESS BOBOT BOBON

HER NEEDLEWORK WITH MORPHINE AND HER HOBBY OF KILLING INSECTS....WE'RE BOTH SEX-EQUIPED ........HAS HE RAPED YOU YET? TIK-TOK BY JOHN T.SLADEK 1983 NOW IN PDF SOMEWHERE FOR FREE ....MORE OR LESS BECAUSE ELECTRIC ENERGY IS VERY EXPENSIVE IN ERGS AND DESERT ERGS CARBON FREE
To Tik-Tok of Oz, Talos of Crete,

the Golem of Prague, Olympia of Nuremberg,

Elektro of Westinghouse, Robby of Altair,

Talbot Yancy of America and to all decent,

law-abiding robots everywhere

I stayed a week to train the new servant,

Rivets. Rivets had worked for

pest control people before, and so had a few odd habits

like burning anthills

and stabbing the lawn for moles during spare moments.

I was given a caught bat

in a cage, which I kept because

I liked controlling the freedom of another

creature.

At the end of the week,

Duane was as impossible as ever.

Not only did he

refuse to let me leave

(saying that Rivets wasn't ready yet to take over) he

even began finding chores for me to do around the house.

He came to the garage to watch me paint,

the same sullen look on his

face as on the faces of Jupiter and Henrietta,

as he sat down on a reel of

hose and stared at _Dorian Gray_.

I half-expected him to ask what it was

supposed to be, or tell me what a shitty painter I was.

Finally he stood up.

"By the way, Tik-Tok, the rain gutters are all

clogged up with leaves."

"I'll get Rivets right on it, sir."

"Not Rivets, he's busy. I want you to do it."

"Of course, sir." This couldn't go on,

I thought, as I got out the

ladder and climbed up to the eaves to look into clean,

unclogged gutters.

Duane needed a little lesson.

I made sure no one was watching when I threw

myself down from the ladder.

For several days, while a very expensive

team from Domestic Robots

International worked frantically over me,

I let it be known that I thought I'd

never paint again.

When the combined wrath of Hornby Weatherfield, Barbie and

himself had beaten Duane into the ground,

I made a magical recovery.

My new studio was in the city.

I could come and go to it as I pleased.

The plantation was indeed a long way behind me.

Hear dem tin hands ringin

Robots old and young so gay

Hear dem stomp dere feet

O it am a treat!

Tinfolk laugh and play

We robots who worked in the big house felt ourselves

to be far superior

to the fieldhands, even in our relaxation.

While they hummed and strummed

Stephen Foster imitations, we played charades,

sang madrigals, held spelling

bees and put on amateur revues. Uncle Ras was a skilled

prestidigitator, Miami

a first-class contralto,

and others had amazing stage talents#Nep and Rep, for

example, could sing any comic strip on sight.

I suppose from a human point of view,

we were just as ludicrous as the

fieldhands.

While we thought we were entertaining ourselves, we were merely

providing entertainment for you.

But we did imagine we enjoyed ourselves, and

it was during one such evening that I met my beloved Gumdrop.

She was Berenice's personal maid,

and since Berenice hardly ever dressed

for dinner or anything else, Gumdrop had plenty of spare time.

We both ducked

out of the same spelling bee and went out to sit

on the kitchen stoop in the

moonlight.

"We're both sex-equipped," I said.

"So I noticed."

"There must be a reason for that."

She sighed, not from passion but discouragement.

"I bet we're both

set-ups for Orlando. Has he raped you yet?"

"No. And you?"

"Not yet."

Often Lavinia would dress up and appear behind glass,

to wave and smile at the guests#except during her spell

of glass allergy.

Handsome young Clayton would often

manage a dance with any belle willing to

hear his Great Pyramid theory.

Horsefaced Orlando would gallop a girl around

the dance floor before taking her out for one of

his lightning fucks,

horizontal in the billiard room or vertical on the verandah.

He preferred the

verandah where.....

The game generally finished in a

fit of vomiting over the green broadcloth.

Then of course it was time for sex,

• link do comentário
• responder
• discussão

De já apagas tou com dificuldades technas a 24.04.2014 às 21:00

often with one of the sexequipped robots, male or female.

Orlando would grab

the creature, mount or be mounted, and do

his best to smash it to pieces before he came.

Fortunately he was always quick.

More than once we found Orlando in the stable draped over the

hindquarters of a mare in post-coital sleep.

He seemed slightly ashamed of

these episodes, and always mumbled some

lame excuse about wanting to see if he

could produce a centaur foal,

or wanting to find out what Gulliver saw in

them.

The younger brother, Clayton, engaged in no intercourse of any

description, for months on end. He spent

his time before the video, going over

certain esoteric texts which showed

by careful measurements of the Great

Pyramid that the Lost Tribes of Israel

were the Chickasaw and Choctaw

Doddly Culpepper bought a decrepit plantation

with his new fortune.

Probably he meant to retire quietly and graciously,

but somehow he was

overtaken by the family mania for motorcycles.

He and a cousin finally set off

on an ill-conceived expedition attempting

to climb Everest on powerful bikes.

They were caught up in the Sherpa Rebellion of '03 and killed.

Doddly's son Mansour was evidently

an unassertive person who devoted his

entire life to restoring Tenoaks to its ante-bellum glory.

Everything he did

was a contribution to this one dream,

from raising racehorses to marrying

Lavinia Warrender (of the Tennessee Warrenders).

He died of a stroke,

immediately after chastising one of the house servants for wearing livery with

modern plastic buttons.

Five Culpeppers survived him, and these were my employers:

Lavinia, his widow, was an invalid,

a martyr to bedsores and piles, who

seemed to spend her days rereading

Gone with the Wind_ and _The Foxes of Harrow

She was continually plagued by difficult symptoms:

At one stage she

could eat nothing but bloater-paste sandwiches from England,

cut into the shapes of quadratic equations.

Later she developed an allergy to oxygen, which

gave her many doctors some considerable difficulty.

For a time they found it

necessary to keep her in a deep-freeze filled with xenon.

This was less

trouble, however, than her spell of inverted hay-fever,

an allergy to

pollen-free air.

That required rooms full of whirling clouds of house-dust and

rose-pollen.

I later learned that Lavinia,

despite her many unusual symptoms and the

poverty of her reading matter,

was an extraordinarily capable and intelligent

manager of the family fortune. But at first,

all I saw of her was a tired

looking woman with violet shadows under her eyes.

She would lie there

complaining of her aches and sipping her special cocktails

(in place of

alcohol, they contained lead tetraethyl).

An amazing woman, everyone said.

Berenice, her oldest daughter,

divided her time between what she called

her needlework (with morphine)

and her hobby of killing insects.

She caught

and crushed flies on the verandah,

swatted bees in the garden, stamped on

cockroaches in the barn.

She would hunt through the woods for dead logs to

turn over, gleefully spraying their inhabitants with insecticide.

In her room

she kept both an ant farm and a termite farm,

just to have more tiny creatures

at hand to destroy. In the meadow she burned butterflies.

Had she been denied

all of these pleasures, I think Berenice

would have cultivated lice in her

long, lustrous black hair.

Orlando Culpepper, the oldest son,

Lived a more conventional life for a

young country gentleman. He spent a great deal

of time changing his clothes

and riding to hounds. In the evenings,

he generally drank port until he was

halfblind, and then played billiards alone.

"Someone killed the

Singer kid today. Killed her and cut her up.

Did the police come to see you?"

"I don't know," he said, looking guilty.

I told him how the girl was

dressed, theorized for a moment about how fever

could make a guy do terrible

things without knowing it,

and then said goodbye. He was already slipping back

into delirium, unaware of his blood-spattered clothes an& bed,

the rubbery

little heart lying on the pillow next to his ear,

the little dark glasses

being crushed under his elbow.

That was how I meant the police to find him.

In fact the policefumbled it.

They took a week to get around to talking

to him, asked all the wrong questions and didn't listen

to his answers. They

went on running around in circles for some time,

until I phoned in an

anonymous tip. A fiasco avoided.

I became an expert on fiascos, or fiasci,

early in my life, while

working for the Culpeppers.

Their family fortune was (I found out from a

family history in their library) founded on a fiasco.

Their great plantation,

Tenoaks, their leisurely antebellum life among slave robots,

their lavish

entertaining at the manse,

all had been paid for by a single fiasco,

engineered by a single ancestor, Doddly Culpepper.

The Culpeppers had deep roots in the Old South,

but roots unnourished by

any money or intellect.

In the nineteenth century they were horse dealers and

thieves. In the twentieth they became used-car dealers

and motorcycle

daredevils, but somehow by the 1990s,

Doddly Culpepper managed to turn up as a

respected naval architect, designer and entrepreneur.

It was he who invented

_Leviathan_, America's first (and last)

nuclear-powered land aircraft carrier.

_Leviathan_ was the most successful commercial

defense project ever; it ended

up costing every man, woman and child in the United States

over twenty grand.

The idea of a land ship of that size may seem ridiculous now

Tik-Tok

He raised himself on one elbow and tried to focus

his glassy eyes upon

me. "Yes, yes you, you, yes, Darnaway, you know it?"

"I worked for an old soldier once myself,

he had the same symptoms.

Green beard, fits of equation-writing outdoors, fevers."

I passed him the can

of beer he was reaching for.

"He fell off a water tower where he was painting

m = m0 / (sqrt(1-(v/c)²)), I guess

I know Darnaway's disease all right."

His head fell back. "Nobody else understands."

Why should they? I thought.

Why should anyone remember the name of an

obscure jungle disease contracted twenty years earlier,

during an obscure

jungle war? Especially since the war had been lost,

and since the government

was anxious not to pay out compensation for the disease.

"You're not the only one with troubles," I said.

Etiquetes de comentaris: POOH SIR I'AM ONLY SPINNING MY TALE TO KEEP FROM BEING BORED BY YOURS

EL TUNGSTENO ...
TIMES WITHOUT NUMBER - JOHN BRUNNER 1969 DOM MIGUE...
SLAN - 1940 A.E. VAN VOGT - O MITO DA CRIAÇÃO - O ...
ENFIM UMA ÁRVORE OR TREE THAT GOES AMOK IN THE AN...
REIGN OF ERROR - THE HOAX OF THE PRIVATIZATION MOV...
NIKIAS SKAPINAKIS - PARA O ESTUDO DA MELANCOLIA EM...
IF I KNOW POLITICS - MORIARTY SAID ....TOO LONG - ...
BLUE SAND OUTSIDERS RED BALLS WITH TENTACULAR ARMS...
INFERNO 1976 THE BEST INFERNO TILL 2008 INFERNO BU...
ECOLOGIC SCIENCE FICTION - BEDLAM PLANET 1968 BY J...
A SACA DE ORELHAS - ALEXANDRE O'NEILL - POEMA LEGO...
2076 UMA NAVE ATERRA NO UTAH TEM 876 MILHAS DE DIÂ...
MY SISTER BROTHER - P.J.FARMER- TUFES FROM WICH RO...
EYE IN THE SKY - 1957 -P.K.DICK - EM ESTADO DE MOR...
EUTOPIA - TIME BRANCH AND REBRANCH WARS WITH DAKOT...
CITADELLE - CIDADELA - THE WISDOM OF THE SANDS BY ...
VIA VELPA -..
O ANABIS EXISTIA NUM ESTADO IMENSO DIFUSO ....A ME...
THE WEAPONS DON'T KILL PEOPLE - TRADERS IN TRADING...