Don't know how much the world hears about news from Brazil, violent crime is regular in the big cities. The latest atrocity: an armed gang of 5 teenagers between16 and 21 hi-jacked a car from a couple and their 6 year old boy. The mother tried to release the boy from the seat belt but couldn't manage, the boy was tangled in the seat belt OUTSIDE THE CAR AND WAS DRAGGED FOR 7 KILOMETRES before they stopped and abandoned the car. The little boy died. The gang knew that the boy was there and were joking about it they confessed when most of them were captured later.
I believe in an eye for an eye and some. An appropriate punishment? Drag these little fucking scabby low life shits behind a car for 20 or so k's. Their lives are worth FUCK, why should they be allowed to live after what they did to an innocent little kid of 6 years old.
I feel as a father of two great kids, a 10 year old boy and a girl of 15 and I'm PISSED OFF.
What's got me up, either the caffeine content of the chimarrão I drank at around 6pm or the fact that it's one of those blasted summer nights where the heat and the insects conspire to keep one awake. As well as the highly irritating whine of the mosquitoes, so much for the matinset device that's supposed to drive the buggers away, there's the 120 decibel buzzing hiss, or maybe it's a hissing buzz white noise of the cicadas in the trees outside, no use telling them to shut the fuck up, they don't listen.
It could be a combination of all these things, fact is I'm WIDE HOO HA AWAKE at freeking 1am.
A possible solution is to read Dickens. I've tried, again, to read "Little Dorrit". I now have to admit that Dickens is so excruciatingly boring in most of his books, that he could send me to sleep. I found "David Copperfield" and "Great Expectations" a little heavy going at times but they held me to the end at which point I thought "good books" (okay I'm not the best literary critic). "Martin Chuzzlewit" I struggled through but finished only with extreme persistence. "Our Mutual Friend" and "A Tale of Two Cities" I gave up after 30 or so pages, I have it on good authority of a friend of mine that "Hard Times" follows the same trend. I almost made it to the end of "Pickwick Papers" but kind of petered out with just 70 or pages to go. As I was reading "Dorrit" my friend was reading "Times", we both met up and asked ourselves and each other, "Why are we torturing ourselves like this?". Consequently I've given up on "Dorrit" again for the time being, I may get back to her later only if I suffer an extreme literary drought, not entirely infrequent, not sure yet of my friend's decision on "Times".
While doing research for my magnificent octopus, which I am currently working on, I came across this site and found it well worth perusing through. I found six gods of literature, strangely five Chinese and one Japanese. Wot no Western gods of literature? I could perhaps burn my Dickens books as offerings to the Eastern gods. One, in a hope that Dickens may become INTERESTING for me, but then again I won't have any of the books left, and two, that perhaps the gods will help me with my magnificent octopus, maybe I should write it in Mandarin.
RIGHT I'm off to bed.
KAMA WASIKILIZA SANA UTAWEZA KUSIKIA KIFARU KUFANYA KELELE!
I CADGED from me old dad some years ago, as an Item of Interest, a small book, first printed 1936, this edition (14th) 1958, entitled, "Up-country Swahili", (Jinkin's knows where my pops got it from and WHY for that matter). The author, in his intro, says: "To the ordinary up-country native, Swahili is a foreign language, of which he possesses only a very limited knowledge. This book aims at teaching, in a simple way, just that degree of Swahili that is understood and talked by the average intelligent up-country native."
It's laid out in such a manner of the classic language learning style, i.e. sections of grammar and vocabulary followed by translation excercises.
This is where the funny part starts. Again, like traditional language learning, it's pure translation. Lists of separate "useful" phrases with no apparent connection between them. So what phrases can be useful for the "settler, miner, businessman, or wife" (read, "oppressive, tyranical, domineering colonizer"), in colonial East Africa in the 30s to 50s?
Washenzi weusi. - The savages are black.
Ninakupiga. - I am hitting you.
Safisha viatu yangu mara moja! - Clean my boots at once!
Mimi naogopa nyoka, funga milango. - I am afraid of snakes, fasten the door.
Huyu mchawi, ona chura katika kifuko yake! - That man is a witch-doctor, see the frog in his pocket! (I JEST NOT LADIES AND GENTS!)
BOY! tengeneza bafu yangu, na hapana kutia maji ya moto tele sawasawa ulifanya jana, napenda moto, lakini hapana moto sana. - BOY! Get my bath ready, and don't put in as much hot water as you did yesterday, I like it hot, but not too hot.
Mpishi anapiga muchawi. - The cook is beating the witch-doctor.
Napiga mulevi na miti. - I am hitting the drunkard with a stick. (PLEASE! I AM NOT JOKING!)
Choo inajaa ya kiroboto. - The latrine is full of fleas. (NO! PLEASE ENOUGH! ENOUGH!)
Perhaps more later?
A plot thicker than Mad Thick McThick, winner of last year's Mr. Thick competition (yes I know, plagiarised from Black Adder), what 'mI talking about? Charles Palliser's "The Quincunx". I'm now reading it for the THIRD time (minimum necessary), to use another of Edmund 's phrases: the plot twists and turns like a twisty turny thing. The BASIC story is thus:
John Melamphy / Huffam / Clothier and his mother are victims of devious scheming involving several families and an Estate. The scheming involves a codicil which, according to who holds it, and the state of the last heir (John), i.e. dead or alive, determines the definitive owners of the estate.
Smelly Pre-Victorian London is where John and his mother find themselves, manipulated from all sides as EVERYONE involved around them seems to be firstly their friend with offers of help then it turns out that they have different motives and in fact are deadly enemies.
This book EVERYONE must read, at least 3 times like I said, give it a year or so between readings. Read and make notes, who is who, who does what, and you'll begin to discover and understand lots of other clues and sub-plots that the author slips in.
riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
PORTO ALEGRE has slipped gently into Summer with the normal cyclic weather of warm, to hot, to intense blacksmith forge to mutha of a rain storm, to cooling down and starting over. When I say "warm" that is relative, I'm talking 30c plus.
Today we're on a cooling down period, it's actually cooled from about 39c yesterday to 33c today! Don't think it's going to get much lower.
Normal for Summer, EVERYONE'S gone to the beach, except me. Can't afford it and haven't got a place to go anyway since my divorce. As a consequence of everyone having gone to the beach, I've got very little work during the week (= very little dosh) and I find myself at home trying to write, mostly failing and spending hours on internet crap, or reading. At the moment, and for the second time, I'm reading "The Quincunx" by Charles Palliser. This book is probably the best Charles Dickens book ever written, not by Charles Dickens. Palliser out Dickenses Dickens, er, I think, so to speak. "A literary classic...blah blah", just so. "Literary classic" usually means you have to read it two or three times to understand it. With JJ's "Ulysses" make that perhaps, four or five times, and with his "Finegan's", forget about reading it, just have it on your bookshelf to appear intellectual. Or try drinking 12 pints of Guinness THEN reading it, it works and everything makes complete sense.
End here. Us then. Finn, again! Take. Bussoftlhee, mememormee! Till thousendsthee. Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone a last a loved a long the
BLWYDDYN NEWYDD DDA
First post of the year this. Porto Alegre is baking, my apartment is baking. The only solution is drink large quatities of iced FBAs.
LAST NIGHT. I opted to be alone. Towards midnight sleep was impossible of course because of the Brazilians' love for fireworks. I drifted in and out but the partying went on 'till the wee hours so I got up later, around 10am.
I'm puting together a blog about Porto Alegre for travellers, visit it here. If anyone's travelling through or if you're a newcomer to live here a while, you'll find stuff about what to do, where to go on a Sunday morning. How to avoid getting ripped off when when dring beers, and lots of other stuff. It's an informal thing with my own points of view, I add bits and pieces almost every day so it's increasing a lot.
HO HO FUCKING HO.
I think I can safely, and quite securely, say, without fear of contradiction or anyone disputing the fact or telling me otherwise, that I have finally and eventually, completely without question or doubt, finished, terminated and brought to a conclusion, my course on synonyms, no wait a minute...
THAT'S not what I intended to say, what I intended to say was THIS - I've finished my UNIVERSITY DEGREE! (Roars from the crowd, fanfares, clashing of symbols (sic - two semesters of semiotics!), fireworks whoosh into the air lighting up the sky). My final paper was a complete success (got a 10), now I believe I shall be invited to universities around the world to give my lecture on Greek Tragedy in The Tale of the Children of Húrin, maybe even the Nobel for Literature...
The dRUNK GerMan Guy in BEER ADvert in my previous post is NOT me. It's a very good friend who happens to be a Professor of Particle Physics at the State University. There is a certain resemblance to Einstein no? We regularly eat slabs of dead bovine beasts grilled over hot coals and drink large quantities of fermented barley, delicately flavoured with hops, and discuss The Meaning of Liff and what particles are the vogue.
SIX BLEEDIN' YEARS! Now I'm ready to do a masters' or even PhD. anyone out there got a job for me in Wales, Ireland or Scotland, or even, dam it all okay...England?!. I know everything about Greek Tragedy and subordinating conjunctions because I have studied thoroughly. Because I have studied thoroughly, I know all about subordinating conjuctions. HA HA mighty clever indeed.
dRUNK GerMan Guy in BEER ADvert
As the Welsh consul and cultural attaché I get invited to a lot of the ambassadorial events in PoA, actually it's just a matter of us gringos getting together, doing a barbie and drinking vast quantities of FBAs all paid for by HM's Gov, George W, or Kim Jong-il. Actually it was the latter who financed the last one at the luxury pad on Guarujá Hill overlooking the lake and untouchable sun-set. And the question came up of course of whether my government would be adopting a nuclear policy and "Flankly mister Alan, in your country, have you got big bums?" took me a while to figure that he meant big BOMBS; this was after I'd expounded for about five minutes about the girls of Aberdare, much to his confusion. After sorting the communication problem out, that took another few FBAs, we came to the conclusion that Brazil is probably the best place on earth to live. No scary bomb stuff, no George W or Tony.
Then I reminded everyone of the politicians here. AH yes...well. Second round of the general election's coming up. Nobody's quite sure who to vote for, Lula, whose government has seen more corruption than...than...well... than a Brazilian government? ...in the past few months, or someone who no-one at all seems to like, at least no-one I've spoken to. 29th October, don't hold your breasts...oops I mean BREATH! BREATH!
By the way, I told him Wales have the biggest nuclear arsenal in Europe and that that is the reason why England haven't invaded us again since the 13th Century and that they went over to Iraq not to face a home embarrassment. He believed me.
It's such fun driving in PoA. The PoA adult motorist has not yet grasped the basic concepts of traffic flow, traffic lights and car indicators. There's a stretch of road on the way to my home where at one point there's one of those speed trap thingies that flashes, up when you pass, the speed you're going at, if you go over the limit, 40kph, you're photographed and fined (there is actually a 10% tollerance) soon after, the straight continues and the limit is 60kph and there is no speed trap of any sort. The PoA motorist, when passing the speed trap 40kph limit slows down for about 300 metres to 15-20 kph. As soon as they pass the trap, where the limit is 60 kph, they speed up to 80-100 kph. Do your maths guys, YOU'LL GET HOME AT THE SAME TIME!!!
BewAre thE JaBBerwoK, meu Filho!
I copied these quotes and the photo direct from the BBC website news story, it wasn't the story itself that caught my attention...
"An international manhunt is under way for Rahan Arshad, who is believed to be the husband and father of the victims.
The 36-year-old's BMW 320 diesel car has been found at Heathrow Airport."
"...Mr Arshad, a local taxi driver.." (my italics and bold)
Am I missing something here?? Should I move back to Britain immediately and get a job maybe as a pizza delivery boy and buy a mansion in the South of France??
Drinking Beer Is As Drinking Beer Does
Technology has changed my life... a mobile phone with a digital camera has enabled my amazingly beautiful fizzog to be transmitted to millions of bleaders (I have just at this very moment invented that word, thank you very much, it's Blog Readers, when it gets into the Oxford Dictionary in 5 years please remember this post, I WANT CREDIT!)
The lovely lady stuck onto my face is the famous Angie.
BRAZILIAN ELECTIONS ARE SUCH FUN
Why are we subjected to crap? Do we have to put up with it? The answer of course is YES, we put up with it or switch off the TV or get out of society and live in a cave in the Himalayas somewhere.
What am I talking about? Election time, actually the general elections, we're going to vote for a new President of Brazil, actually I'm not going to vote, not being a citizen with citizen's rights and all that (got a permanent visa though), on the 1st of Oct. the camaigning starts NOW however.
It means...8pm everynight, politicians bullshitting on TV. ON EVERY CHANNEL THE SAME CRAP (unless of course one is priveleged enough to have cable or satellite). Switch off.
It means... trucks going around laden with loud speakers and amplified sound blaring, and I mean BLARING! out a jazzy catchy tune about how beautiful our country will be, without crime, with low taxes, with jobs for everyone, with marvelous free education for our children, if you vote for Senator Presidential Candidate Joaquim Fartbumph da Silva. If we do a quick survey, could we say that anyone actually likes those loud speaker trucks? I think on a popularity scale they would get a big ZERO, can you imagine anyone answering that question with; "Oh yes, I quite like that truck passing in front of my house twice a day, it's a nice tune, I think I'll buy the CD" NOT!! Then why the FUCK are they allowed???
It means... thousands upon thousands of plastic posters and banners showing the face of Senator Presidential Candidate Joaquim Fartbumph da Silva with his huge plastic smile littering the streets. Again...quick survey...you know the question...SO WHY THE FUCK IS IT ALLOWED, AGAIN???
It means...crowds of people waving huge coloured flags at every crossroads and cars beeping in support as they drive through. Get a life PLEASE!
That's it.
THIS HAS BEEN one of those bizarre Winters that hasn't really been a Winter. Way down in the South of Brazil, situated as we are, we're supposed to get some form of cold weather that should in theory start about June and go right on through Septemberish. Not so. Okay, so there were a couple of days cold enough to justify the use of my very-expensive-to-run electric oil filled radiator. I have to get up 15 mins before getting-up time in order to switch the radiator on in the bathroom. Damn thing takes that long to warm up the tiny room. Those days were few. Now in the middle of August and I've put it away in the spare room and I'm doing barbies every weekend again. Again no, I haven't really stopped doing barbies every weekend.
BARDO WAS HERE Saturday, I called him up at 1pm, well into lunch time, and told him I already had a couple of chunks of dead animal over the hot coals. I'd just put the phone on the hook when he was at the door. I had to go to the supermarket at around 5pm to top up on meat, beer and charcoal. Salad? What's that? We got through three slabs of beer anyway. I was half expecting to get The Nasty Bug (about 6 foot 6, 6 legs, multiprismed eyes and punches you in the face without provocation) that had gone through Angie's family from Monday to Friday, one each day. I did get a little squeezy in the early hours of Sunday morning but I put that down to the beer, Fine Brazilian Ale always makes me a little squeezy wheezy after twenty or so. Anyway Sunday I was fine, no Nasty Bug and I was back on the FBA by lunchtime.
MY DAD WOULD BE down The Ivor, now "Y Ddrainog" (NOT I must stress any relation to Y Ddraig Goch, different bicho) at midday on the dot every Sunday, I try to keep up the tradition from afar, at 12 it's "bar's open" PSHHHHT! He refuses to go there nowadays on account of "the pricks present", you'd have to understand a little Welsh in order to get that one.
HWYL FAWR!
Bollocks
THAT'S IT OVER for another 4 years then. The green and yellow that covered PoA over the past two months has completely disappeared overnight, no-one's speaking much about football these days.
NOTICE TO the PoA motorist!
Attention drivers of Porto Alegre! How to make the most of your motor vehicle and make driving a pleasure for yourself and other road users. Some advice and tips:
1. Please be aware that your motor vehicle is equipped with a small lever device, usually fixed around or near the steering wheel. On operating this lever (by a deft flicking up or down action with the hand)a small orange light on the front and rear of your motor vehicle, either the left or the right, will begin to flash intermittently.
And what is the purpose of this? You may ask.
Excellent observation, for this intermittent flashing light will actually ADVISE OTHER ROAD USERS OF YOUR MANOEUVERING INTENTIONS! Isn't that just incredible?! We are assuming here of course that you are aware that there ARE OTHER ROAD USERS.
It's a good idea then, when operating this INDICATOR (for that is what the device is called), to LOOK IN YOUR MIRROR, to see if there are any other road users approaching from behind before carrying out the manoeuver.
We are aware that some of you have already discovered this device, however we advise that it should be actioned AT LEAST 75 METRES BEFORE THE INTENDED MANOEUVER AND NOT AT THE MOMENT OF THE MANOEUVER ITSELF.
When observing this intermittent flashing light of a vehicle ahead of yours this means that the vehicle intends to MOVE INTO YOUR LANE or TURN LEFT OR RIGHT according to what side the flashing light is on. If you observe this then it is essential to GIVE THAT VEHICLE SPACE IN WHICH TO MANOEUVER and NOT ACCELERATE TO PASS THAT VEHICLE, which brings us to point,
2. You don't really HAVE TO pass that vehicle in front of you. No, really! He won't think bad of you if you stay behind. Despite what you may think, it is NOT WRITTEN IN THE LAW that you have to pass every vehicle in front of you. You may notice that in passing a vehicle, after perhaps a 100 metres or so, you will come across a RED TRAFFIC LIGHT (see next point), and that vehicle will soon be behind or alongside you. You are not Ayrton Senna.
3. A traffic light, when changing from orange to red actually, believe it or not, means YOU HAVE TO STOP, and NOT ACCELERATE TO PASS.
and finally:
The size of you vehicle does not determine your priority on a public road. That means - IF YOU GOT A BIG 'UN YOU'RE REALLY NO BETTER THAN THE REST OF US!
(John Holmes and Ron Jeremy, on their salaries, could argue that point)
HWYL FAWR.
4.30pm. TUESDAY 13th JUNE, I must have been the only person in Brazil not to have been sitting in front of a TV. I had left my class at 3.30 only to find the roads packed with everyone trying to rush home, green and yellow and honking horns everywhere. To avoid stress overload I parked up at Angie's until the traffic calmed down. She was busy with her final paper so in fact I wasn't the ONLY person not in front of a TV. At 4.15 I deemed it safe enough to venture out onto the roads, and indeed it was, a deserted city, the roads deserted of traffic that is, but life was there - passing a few bars, there was a seething green and yellow mass spilling out into the street. At home I settled in front of the computer to get some work done. A roar from around the city followed by swish bang bang bang over the next few minutes at around 4.45 indicated that Brazil scored. Can't wait for the next game.
ISN'T A DJ'S JOB just to stick a record on the deck and leave it there? Seems like they fool around with the record now, pressing buttons and twiddling knobs. And how come all Brazilian DJs are Scottish? MCJean Paul, MCFulano, etc.
WELL THAT'S YER LOT for today.
4.30pm. TUESDAY 13th JUNE, I must have been the only person in Brazil not to have been sitting in front of a TV. I had left my class at 3.30 only to find the roads packed with everyone trying to rush home, green and yellow and honking horns everywhere. To avoid stress overload I parked up at Angie's until the traffic calmed down. She was busy with her final paper so in fact I wasn't the ONLY person not in front of a TV. At 4.15 I deemed it safe enough to venture out onto the roads, and indeed it was, a deserted city, the roads deserted of traffic that is, but life was there - passing a few bars, there was a seething green and yellow mass spilling out into the street. At home I settled in front of the computer to get some work done. A roar from around the city followed by swish bang bang bang over the next few minutes at around 4.45 indicated that Brazil scored. Can't wait for the next game.
ISN'T A DJ'S JOB just to stick a record on the deck and leave it there? Seems like they fool around with the record now, pressing buttons and twiddling knobs. And how come all Brazilian DJs are Scottish? MCJean Paul, MCFulano, etc.
WELL THAT'S YER LOT for today.
