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    September 04, 2007

    Não Means No

    It's nearly the end of the day in Santa Monica. I have gone through my links. I have added Stephen Krashen, professor Emeritus at USC as a permanent source for educators or diletantes.

    Mini-Ph.D. here found a book he could read and finish and write about. The Ph.D. just called. Gnband906_2

    Tomorrow school starts.

    Sigh. Oppositional behavior can be costly. Let's close for the night on a posive note, shall we?

    I await the end of Phil Spector's trial. Hey (is for horses) - Liberty and Justice for all. It was a fluke I remembered him today.

    Não means No. Many people find this diphtong unusually impossible to pronounce. It's easy. Imagine
    [na˜u˜] NAUM, without pronouncing the M. Just pretend you have a cold and make N˜A˜U˜. Let your lips touch.

    Or watch a Brasileiro articulate it. :P))

    Continue reading "Não Means No" »

    July 20, 2007

    All Is Stuff, Especially Objects

    Finally delivered my gift: the Poet Laureate's latest book in Portuguese, whose "Cinco Sonetetos" made me cry, and his book in English, "Clean Shirt of It". Paulo is fond of using objects to express the deepest feelings possible. This sounds weird, but it's just a transference, I guess. He also has a knack for high register and low register words in one piece.  The guy is a genius, what can I say?

    All is stuff especially objects: there we have them: a heavy metal bracelet I was given in jest on my birthday, 1985, Mr. Peanut, who comforted me when I was recovering from a painful situation. Also in 1985, my Chicagoan roommate gave him to me. A shot glass, I collect them too, like Freaky Deaky, this one from Ellis Island. My father, the year he met Mommy, 1946. He was from a small town in Pennsylvania.  A glimpse of an "ojo de Diós" in yarn, my son made it when he was seven.  I like objects.  They speak to me without shouting, they give me solace without throwing in my face they did. "I Love Lucy" trapped in the clock, frozen, without laugh track, serves its purpose of reminding me of my origin. Baby Boomer, early fifties, NYC.

    If you go to this link and inside it click on the link of my son's blog, you'll see the resemblance between Daddy and Gabi.  This is the link:http://attu.typepad.com/anarchic_universe/2007/07/mommy-i-want-to.html


    June 16, 2007

    Writer's Block, Cramps, Shcramps

    In the quite competitive world of 71 million blogs, and counting, writing well has become an obsession. I'll explain what "writing well" means in Blogsville. Use your own material or quote higher level material. Quote the source. Google knows everything.

    Bloggers write for Google. There are some rules:

    • Title matches content. Some words carry higher status for Google, like Google.com as a link; link means leading to Google.com. So, if Mr. Smartie Pants writes Google.com or any other higher P.R. word for no reason, Mr. Smartie Pants losed points. P.R. is Page Ranking, some obscure stats way to rank blogs and a sure way for bloggers to get fleeced trying to improve their Google P.R.

    • Ideally a blog should have its own material, or such a variety of sources it will have many Google searches answered.

    • Then there is the never-ending discussion of S.E.O. This stands for Search Engine Optimization. Many connoisseurs claim there is a way Google bots will reach your blog more easily. Get rid of the Flickr badge flashing! No blogrolls. Keep it short. I have been following my heart, not S.E.O. advice.

    • I am here just to let know there is a light at the end of the night, my fellow bloggers uninspired . A neuroscientist who happens to be a writer as well saw how writer's block and the drive to write are intertwined. Scientifically. Check out "The Midnight Disease."
    It's been a while since I read it. I was quite impressed.

    • Sometimes we attribute to higher forces or to habit what is a matter of neurotransmitters.

    Since the clock is about to strike midnight, I bid you adieu before I become a pumpkin. See you. Oh, the cramps? I'm having cramps and missed the phone call from the doctor with the blood test results. My typing is bad, I know. It's the cramps. And partial numbness.

    A song, perhaps? A Classic in YouTube's new Beta version.

    Now I really ought to go. Oh, photo, perhaps.Tina_oiticica
    ©Anarchic_Universe, 2007 All Rights Reserved.

    June 05, 2007

    Rambling Thoughts in the Wee Hours

    A funny guy who comments on my Universo Anárquico comes up with food for thought in his comments. Hazzmanazz is quite genuine.  I like him. I won't go as far as Will Rogers, "I never met a humin I didn't like," for that is baloney.  Hazzmanazz questioned the negative denotation of "liberal" in the USA. I'll have to think about this.  What do you think about the word "liberal"--Positive or negative thoughts cross your mind?

    I will see what I can find to post here this early morning.Roses_in_vase Roses. You deserve them.  I am very happy about my blogs.  The yellow rose with green edges is a Saint Patrick's rose.

    The tablecloth is very old, made in France.

    What a nice language, the French call the mother in laws "belle meres."
    How cute.

    A song?  How about a traditional rendition of "Careless Love"?

    Photos straight out of my memory stick?  Nah!  Maybe my midnight snack:

    Framboesastorradinhabrie Raspberries, toast and Brie, nicely arranged;  after all, this is a French household.

    The best thought is the Internet© Five star lawyer.  The plate was a present  from a visiting Brazilans.  It's made
    in Brazil!

    And that's all, folks!

    Love ,


    May 31, 2007

    Internet Spam; One in a Series

    A sheriff in a small town walks out in the street and sees a cowboy coming down the walk with nothing on but his cowboy hat, gun, and his boots, so he arrests the cowboy for indecent exposure.

    As he is locking the cowboy up, he asks,

    "Why in the world are you dressed like this?"

    The cowboy says,

    "Well it's like this, sheriff ... I was in the bar down the
    road and this pretty little red head asks me to go out to her motor home with her. So I did.

    "We go inside and she pulls off her top and asks me to pull off my shirt so I did.

    "Then she pulls off her skirt and asks me to pull off my pants .. so I did.

    "Then she pulls off her panties and asks me to pull off my shorts so I did.

    "Then she gets on the bed and looks at me kind of sexy and says,

    'Now go to town cowboy...'

    So here I am."

    Son of a gun, smart men; do they exist?

    This is a fourth post today:
    • links of the day
    •Frank Zappa's Titties and Beer
    •Education and meds; No Child Left Behind.

    May 18, 2007

    What's Up, Thinking Bloggers ?

    I receiveAwardd a small banner declaring I was a Thinking Blogger.  Actually, I have received three of them. (brag not.)
    They were given to me for my work on Universo Anárquico, my Brazilian Portuguese blog. One thing leads to another in an intelligent mind ( applause,please.)  Led by Alexandre Inagaki's post on the awards he got and the meaning of "meme" v. chain-mail, I discovered the blog by Ilker Yoldas.  Ilker designed his blog and devised the award by February. I feel happy for him.  As of yesterday his ranking at Technorati  is # 248.

    It's hard for many not to feel the sting of the green monster.  Ilker is a total n00b. A newcomer in Blogsville, when successful, makes a few wonder how come.  Some of my answers are:

    • The Thinking Blogger award makes us, recipients, different, somehow, empowered to nominate other five bloggers.

    • The blog, The Thinking Blog, is very well designed.  Ilker is a designer, among other things.

    • The blog links everybody who'd like to be linked.

    • Ilker offers a lot of eye candy for bloggers.

    • Ilker visits and comments on blogs.

    • We exchanged mail yesterday.  I didn't want to be babling about his being a male with a pretty woman's avatar (picture that represents a blogger.)

    • He is courteous and doesn't miss a beat.  Fluent in at least three languages, English, Portuguese and Turkish, his diplomatic skills are remarkable.

    Most of the action is taking place at MBL, My Blog Log.  I suggest other bloggers join in. The Stones sang, "It's Only Rock and Roll" (And I like it.)

    It's only blogging and I love it.  The LA Times suggested blogging to realtors, imagine that?

    Maybe later?  My social life, doctors' appointments, await me. Thanks for commenting.  Remember; links are just a kaleidoscope of possible readings.  They are meant for both blogs.

    I wrote a poem inspired in the imbroglio regarding Albertito.  My child is studying Julius Cæsar:

    Comey cometh and  goneth
    Thou, Albertus Gonzalves,
    Wilst thou be goneth, too?

    May 17, 2007

    I Was About to Plug a New Book on Os Mutantes When...

    Award_2 The link for Os Mutantes book, in Portuguese, is in my Universo Anárquico. Ever since Alexandre Inagaki, the excellence in blogger writing, wrote about Ilker Yoldas a few days ago, I wanted to find out if it was a he or a she.  The name is Turkish. Ilker is a blogging phenomenum.  In a few months, with a very well-designed blog, little give away toys for bloggers, Ilker became a top ranking blogger.  The doubt till yesterday, when  I searched Google for Ilker first name gender Turkish, and found out it was a male name.

    In LogMyBLog, where bloggers add blogs galore to their "community," I found Ilker.  Both The Thinking Blogger award created in February and LogMyBlog are based on memes, somewhat.  After the Thinking Blogger Award has gone around the world, something else will come up.

    I posted my findings on Ilker's blog yesterday.  When  I went back to check it out there was a maybe yes, maybe not answer from Ilker.  After a cordial mail exchange with a polished person, fluent in Portuguese, English, and who knows how many laguages, Ilker Yoldas send me a link about the not-so-secret revelation.  The Thinking Blog, authored by Ilker, is visually appealing, posts daily, and gives away small token gifts or bigger ones.  The blog is a phenomenum in its exponencial growth. Havinf traveled all over the world, Ilker has master the necessary diplomatic skills and languages to survive and rule in the blogosphere.

    While writing about Os Mutantes, Paulo Henriques Britto's work translated into English, the Lost Angeles Times, I got mail from Ilker. and a comment, which was nice. If only more people would say, "Good job, biatch," I would feel happier about this blog.

    I'm not crazy about aggressive/insensitive humor. However, the suspension of two DJs for laughing at a joke on sex acts among public figures is quite unsusual.  Today I saw a mother crying over a Spangled Banner draped coffin. Big color photo on the upper cover of the LosT Angles Times. Wolfowitch received severance pay and resigned.  Median home price in L.A. county?
    540 K.  Food and gas went up.

    Amazon.com wants to pop its cherry in the MP3 business.  Apple is da bomb. Fuggeddaboutit.

    Amazon says she will let it up to user on copying music. Umm, in these 1984ish days, I am not so sure.

    Finally, the immigration bill passed Senate.  It is quite selective, akin to Sarko-facho.  Mexico prudently pull back on the infamous war on drugs. They fear, and very rightly so, the soldiers would soon be corrupted by the druglords.

    May 12, 2007

    It's Not My Catholic Upbringing

    Tinaandgabrielwish I could rant the way Dennis Leary used to on EmpTv. I am not that funny at all. Or like Freaky Deaky in his F**k It Friday posts.. A lot of Brazilians ask about American language slang. My coleague from Sugar Hill always told the students it wasn't good for them to use foul language.

    Slang. First test: what is slang? Say a sentence with a word of slang in it to a 60-year-old. If s/he isn't hip, s/he won't get it. Slang words are those used by specific groups. The day they become common place, they become part of the non-slang subset of the language.

    Generally slang words come from the Armed Forces, words as SNAFU, for example. Or they come from jailbirds, people who are incarcerated, that is. Slang comes from the people of color. African-Americans have been contributors to the American language non pareil. Words like kewl, California spelling for cool from jazz, fly girl, crib (home.) The list is endless. Then there are the Hispanics, with Spanglish words such as tchale, meaning keep an eye on x, y, or z. Or trucha, ojo. The trout is a very smart fish in Mexican culture. So, when saying your good-byes you say, ¡Trucha! Is puta slang? Noooo. Most boys and girls know it' the word for sex pros. I can't leave unmentioned teens, I know a woman form the Valley who learned Valleyspeak when young; never got rid of the f'rshure.
    And the Jewish segment of our population has made a vast contribution to the American language, with all of those Yiddish expressions.

    What I love about American language is its status of non-official language in the USA. We have absorved so many words from all over, it's incredible how our vocabulary keeps on growing like the rabbit in the commercial keeps on running.

    Maybe the spoken language in California will be Spanish, do you remember Edward James Olmos in Blade Runner? Instead of moaning and groaning about Spanish, I would be studying it, if I were you. After all, one day you may have to say, "¿Ud. quiere fritas con su coca? Le gustaría hielo?"

    And then what. According to the LA Times, your chances to enter the college of your Ivy League dreams are very slim. Till 2009. So, as the song goes, get ready.

    Knowing foreign tongues doesn't hurt. Maybe you'll need to wear condoms, see link about HPV virus and oral sex below.

    Ah! Speaking of tongues, not speaking in tongues, I have just left a set in Flicker of part of my day yesterday. It's the first time we used a cell phone to take photos. We went to The Lobster. The view of the Santa Monica Pier is awesome. If you click on any of the badges you'll get there. Actually, I want to go to the ocean, like Melina Mercouri in "Never on Sundays."

    Even if you are bad MFs SoBs,.FdPs., I forgive you. Tomorrow is the day for mothers of all kinds. I strongly dislike holidays. How about you?