Happy New Year - Happy New Wall

Bom, pronto. Acabou 2006 e acabou o período límbico que existe até o Carnaval. Acabou o horário de verão e acabou o sol. Parece que pulamos do primeiro dia de férias escolares para primeiro dia de aula, no calendário escolar do hemisfério norte, e só falta nevar.
Também acabaram as expectativas do Oscar, e acabaram os filmes assistíveis no cinema. Acho que meu ciclo menstrual deste mês acabou-se também, porque toda essa crise deve ser obra de TPM.
Mas se analisarmos bem, talvez não. Talvez seja simplesmente mais um ano, sem planos, sem mudanças, com os mesmos problemas políticos e sem terroristas para resolve-los, com o mesmo futebol medíocre e as mesmas brigas idiotas entre torcidas, e as mesmas velhas máfias - desde a de dualib até a do PT. It's all the same shit.

Poxa, mas o início do ano não é época de esperança? Hoje estava conversando com um aluno e ele me perguntou, "o que você acha do jeitinho brasileiro?", no que eu respondi, "acho o PIOR DEFEITO DESTA NAÇÃO!".
Ah Paula, por que tanta ira neste coraçãozinho?
Porque:
ainda tem gente jogando lixo pela janela do carro;
ainda tem gente que não dá seta pra mudar de faixa no trânsito;
ainda tem gente que quer empurrar/ cortar no trânsito às 7 da manhã, quando todos os outros carros estão em fila e numa velocidade adequada;
ainda há políticos defendendo interesses próprios;
ainda há políticos ... ainda há políticos.

Os executivos brasileiros são os principais líderes em multinacionais em outros países. Motivo: o brasileiro é o mais capaz a adequar-se à mudança, administrar risco, motivar equipes com culturas diferentes. Acho que essa é a única exceção do "jeitinho brasileiro" que é uma virtude, nesse hábito odioso que permeia esta cultura porca e podre.

The monkey sat on a pile of stones
And he stared at the broken bone in his hand
And the strains Viennese quartet
Rang out across the land
The monkey looked up at the stars
And he thought to himself
Memory is a stranger
History is for fools
And he cleaned his hands
In a pool of holy writing
Turned his back on the garden
And set out for the nearest town
Hold on hold on soldier
When you add it all up
The tears and marrowbone
There's an ounce of gold
And an ounce of pride in each ledger
And the Germans killed the Jews
And the Jews killed the Arabs
And Arabs killed the hostages
And that is the news
And is it any wonder
That the monkey's confused
He said Mama Mama
The President's a fool
Why do I have to keep reading
These technical manuals
And the joint chiefs of staff
And the brokers on Wall Street said
Don't make us laugh
You're smart kid
Time is linear
Memory's a stranger
History's for fools
Man is a tool in the hands
Of the great God Almighty
And they gave him command
Of a nuclear submarine
And sent him back in search of
The Garden of Eden

Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense
Expressed in dollars and cents,
Pounds, shillings and pence
Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense

Little black soul departs in perfect focus
Hold on soldier
Prime time fodder for the News at Nine
Hold on, hold on soldier
Darling is the child warm in the bed tonight

[Marv Albert:] "Hi everybody I'm Marv Albert
And welcome to our telecast
Coming to you live from Memorial Stadium
It's a beautiful day
And today we expect a sensational matchup
But first our global anthem"

Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense
Expressed in dollars and cents,
Pounds, shillings and pence
Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense

[Marv:] "And here come the players
As I speak to you now, the captain
Has his cross hairs zeroed in on the oil rig
It looks to me like he's going to attack
By the way did you know that a submarine
Captain earns 200,000 dollars a year"
[Edward:]"That's less tax Marv"
[Marv:]"Yeah, less tax
Thank you Edward"
[Edward:]"You're welcome"
[Marv:]"Now back to the game...he fires one...yes
There goes two; both fish are running
The rig is going into a prevent defense
Will they make it? I don't think so"

Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense
Expressed in dollars and cents,
Pounds, shillings and pence
Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense
Can't you see
It all makes perfect sense

Roger Waters - Perfect Sense, parts 1 and 2

When I die.

ou, ejaculação precoce é como o Brasileirão Série A.

Sim, estou feliz que meu time ganhou o campeonato duas rodadas antes do final. Mas também não estou. Assim, que se preze a harmonia e a estabilidade de um time em pontos corridos, e não tenho dúvidas que é um campeonato mais justo que o de chaves. Mas... onde está a Emoção?
Aliás, eu assisti o jogo na TV e como sempre o rádio estava muito mais empolgante. Além disso, assistir meu amigo fazer salada também estava mais empolgante. Ah, sabemos que Futebol Arte morreu faz tempo, agora it's business baby, mas também não precisa esculachar.
Agora, se antes eu falava que o SPFC era marido broxa, agora eu falo que tem ejaculação precoce. Antes era marido broxa porque toda vez que estava chegando lá alguma merda acontecia e não chegava lá. Agora chegou lá antes da hora. Será que eu reclamo demais? Deve ser porque sou mulher.
Mas então, o que fazer para satisfazer uma torcedora tão exigente [ou chata]? Que tal, for starters, FINGIR melhores orgasmos? Eu assisti, por acaso, o jogo do Atlético-MG com o São Raimundo no Friday's [numa terça-feira de tremendo tédio quando pensei que era quarta e fui encontrar a única loira que eu gosto de verdade] e pensei, "poxa, eles parecem gostar disso!" Aí ouço, "Mas Série B é assim mesmo, eles querem voltar pra A, dão tudo de si." [o que me lembra o jogador dizendo, "nós demos tudo de si" ...]
Bebi, pensei. Tenho a solução para os problemas de ereção do Futebol Brasileiro: acabar com a Série A. Isso mesmo!! Então todo mundo luta para chegar lá, e quando chega ganha os mesmos preminhos e bichos e fanfarras, MAS, volta pra série C.
Ué, mas qual será o incentivo pra chegar na Série A? O mesmo que existe agora, o prestígio. Os Estrangeiros.
Já que não dá pra se livrar dessa propina desleal que são as ofertas internacionais para nossos craques [err], então que eles sejam incentivados a jogar no estilo palmatória. Se não funcionar, então que fiquem que castigo ajoelhados no milho, se bem que o preparador físico não vai gostar.
Mas pelo menos vai ser mais EMO-cionante - ver o neguinho chorando porque ficou de castigo.

Lula, Bush, "The Big Brazilian" soccer season and the NFL

or, How mankind is reduced to beings more ghoulish than swine.

I have been saying for a long time now how our president Mr. Squidward Tentacles is no mere puppet. Those tentacles had turned him into a freaky monstrous king of rats and his term is the pied piper himself.
Oh yea we love to look out and point at the Great USA and lay all the Blame of Evil on Mr. Bush, Jr. There is no shadow of a doubt he reigns in a kingdom of blind evil, but my household's roof is shattered.
Fear and Loathing, I'll say! When I read Saddam Hussein was condemned to death by Hanging. Oh yea he did do monstrous, HIDEOUS things! Absolutely unforgivable! But then, WHO hasn't done hideous things? No, I am not suggesting he shouldn't die. He must die! It's the medieval circus that bothers me. And listen, I am 110% in favor of capital punishment. But it is in my perception the scum of this Earth should be cast away in silence. This "event" brings to surface some sort of savagery which we, the well-informed modern society should loathe.
It is my sense that sooner or before all sorts of atrocities will be televised for the sake of revenge. So be it. I am constantly asked, "But what about if your son were raped?" - yea, it's easy to get to the nerve of a mother when the topic is the fuckin' pedophiles - "Well I would kill the muthafucker with no remorse and with all the sadism I am due to withdraw from beneath. But hey, I don't want a crowd.
It's disgusting how humans jack off on freak shows. Well, Bush and Saddam are each getting what they deserve.
The families of soldiers lost in a War that feels like 99 overtimes without one single score have opened their eyes and ears and now begin to grasp what deceitful speech is the words that come out of bush-a-boy-redneck-king. Justice at last for the thousands of Iraqi families who have been struggling through misery and disgrace, from conqueror to conqueror... feels like 99 overtimes without one single score.
But what about Brazil? WHAT Gloomy mischievous fate awaits us?
Four more years. In Brazil, for the working class, it is like doing time. It is like mandatory heavy duty labor where the greedy bloodsucking vampire dogs bathe in the milk of the tits of intolerable taxes, draining the soul of a feeble middle class, turning the poor into [happy] peasants [who own magnificent debit "beggar-cards"] and withdrawing riches to Neverland.
What happened to the dossiegate? Was I the ONLY one to compare Lula to Nixon? No I wasn't. That disgusting borgoise magazine what pollutes hundreds of households in Brazil, aka Veja, finally did something productive and pointed out the similarities between Watergate and Lulagate.
Mas a permissividade da sociedade Brasileira já é tamanha que qualquer putaria escapará impune. There are no limits to corruption and therefore, the whores of politics have finally copulated with one another and now shall bear a loathsome child - a byproduct of siphillis and some other hideous deteriorating disease. And this disease will take over the Congress and the Senate and will stain our water and smog our air.
But behold! Brazil is the land of the Future. Always Future. I shall not dwell on the now, for who knows, MY TEAM will win the Brasileirão this year. And Timão will be the champion too, of the future: segundona 2008.

2008, a creepy year where the Republicans may win again in America - and if Doctor Hunter Thompson were alive he would grin and groan Fear and Loathing! For They are more stupid that I had foreseen back when Al Gore lost in the first term!
2008, a creepy year for Brazil. Police what to identify every internet user, NOTHING has been done regarding the prision system - and they keep filling it up to the brim - and priorities are more rotten the 6-month-old apples in the Sun.
2008, a creepy year for this planet, where hangman's jury shall rejoice in a ludicrous demented panis et circus...
But worry not, Eu acho que dessa vez o Tricolor não será marido broxa.

Author's Note: I got really inspired after reading the first whole section of Hey Rube, by HST.