Arquivo do mês: outubro 2008

sempre suspeitei

I am Elizabeth Bennet!

Take the Quiz here!

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pra quel

Oxalá

Oxalá, me passe a dor de cabeça, oxalá
Oxalá, o passo não me esmoreça

Oxalá, o carnaval aconteça, oxalá
Oxalá, o povo nunca se esqueça

Oxalá, eu não ande sem cuidado
Oxalá eu não passe um mau bocado
Oxalá, eu não faça tudo à pressa,
Oxalá, meu futuro aconteça

Oxalá, que a vida me corra bem, oxalá
Oxalá, que a tua vida também

Oxalá, o carnaval aconteça, oxalá
Oxalá, o povo nunca se esqueça

Oxalá, o tempo passe hora a hora
Oxalá, que ninguém se vá embora
Oxalá, se aproxime o carnaval
Oxalá, tudo corra menos mal

(Madredeus)

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Ah, a Jane Austen

Escrevendo para meu outro blogue com a quel… (propaganda: um bloque no qual tentamos descobrir, afinal, o que é uma comédia romântica: “Este nome já foi usado para as mais escusas razões… Filmes essencialmente opostos estão reunidos sob essa mesma égide ambígua e secreta. Esse blogue pretende esmiuçar os detalhes dessas questões, porque, afinal, o amor não tira férias, e as comédias românticas nos perseguem aonde quer que vamos.”)

…escrevemos sobre algumas adaptações dos livros da Jane Austen. Existem vários blogs de aficcionados por ela, e até achei um teste bobo:

“You are Elinor Dashwood of Sense & Sensibility! You are practical, circumspect, and discreet. Though you are tremendously sensible and allow your head to rule, you have a deep, emotional side that few people often see.”

I am Elinor Dashwood!

Take the Quiz here!

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Emily Dickinson

After great pain, a formal feeling comes --
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs --
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round --
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought --
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone --

This is the Hour of Lead --
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow --
First -- Chill -- then Stupor -- then the letting go --

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Can someone just come out and say this? What the fuck is the risk in being a counterculture hero for the white male? What’s the big deal about being on the Keroacian road? These dudes get to play around with self-imposed marginalization all they want, with little consequence. They still get laid (are more likely to get laid), they still can ultimately get married, get a job, have kids etc, which is, like, the countercultural worst case scenario. Best case scenario, and certainly what these so-called rebels have in mind when they hit the streets in their skinny jeans clutching a J.D. Salinger novel, is that they will be immortalized as heroes—gods– of the countercultural revolution. There’s no risk, therefore there is no courage.

It’s not sexy for a woman to have an existential crisis. If she goes on the road, she is basically putting her life on the line. Her sexual viability may persist, but she’s transformed into a loathed “slut” (no actual sexual behavior necessary to earn the title), her long-term desirability is thus compromised. If she rebels against the confines of mass-cultural beauty (and I don’t mean growing side-bangs and wearing torn jeans), the countercultural male rebel isn’t attracted to her anymore. If she spends all her time reading and writing poetry and making art and being dedicated to a cause, she is compromising the possibility of marriage, family and happiness.

For the man, rebellion is a day job. For the woman, she must give all.

eu adoro esse blogue.

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lets

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