tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46608377446803829002024-03-12T18:51:47.931-07:00Franguinho a vaporUm BLOGUE DE COZEDURA LENTA PARA APOCALIPSES INCONÓMICOS E KOSMOLÓGICOS EN RALENTItempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-18783375722528635442016-04-12T10:12:00.000-07:002016-04-12T10:14:20.860-07:00A COMERCIALIZAÇÃO DO SEXO NA PINTURA ANTECEDE O CRO-MAGNON PROVAVELMENTE E A DO SEXO IDEM MAS OS ANOS 20 TRAZEM AOS US OF A PURITANOS UMA ONDA NUNCA VISTA À LUZ DA NOITE A CRISE DOS ANOS 30 OU DE 2008 TORNA-A GIGANTESCA CLANDESTINA OU LEGAL PARA O CASO TANTO FAZ <div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="js_1x" style="line-height: 1.38; overflow: hidden;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">ORA COM A 1ª GUERRA O EROTISMO DE GUERRA INCREMENTA-SE MILHÕES DE HOMENS E MULHERES TÊM DE DESCOBRIR OUTROS HOMENS E MULHERES ALÉM DOS QUE QUE TINHAM E ISSO LEVA A DIVÓRCIOS UNS 500 MIL OU COUSA ASSIS E A ENTRADAS PLA PORTA DOS FUNDOS</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Se alguém me quiser fazer um gosto, já sabe </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">REGO VAI SER LEILOADO EM LISBOA</span></div>
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<span class="_3m6-"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.dn.pt/artes/interior/obra-de-paula-rego-vai-ser-leiloada-hoje-em-lisboa-5121988.html#media-1" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" tabindex="-1" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="scaledImageFitWidth img" height="255" src="https://external-lhr3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/safe_image.php?d=AQCyt5T5_b4LPwow&w=487&h=255&url=http%3A%2F%2Fstatic.globalnoticias.pt%2Fstorage%2FDN%2F2016%2Fbig%2Fng6467991.jpg&cfs=1&upscale=1&ext=png2jpg" style="border: 0px; height: auto; min-height: 100%; position: relative; vertical-align: bottom; width: 487px;" width="487" /></a></span><a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.dn.pt%2Fartes%2Finterior%2Fobra-de-paula-rego-vai-ser-leiloada-hoje-em-lisboa-5121988.html%23media-1&h=OAQFc29hB&enc=AZP7OoBejaEPJ7PIGXFQPUBFK2IhDSHmQf2hTVJSpl2r4dUDrfhbkYU04fq5K6py6G5_deD7WxObnJz8opdilB1o0Bh7NXGzNw7ff7mDLptb5f96lWiwORB6kD7HGtXT2Hak9mpzc1ec_FHm2dVYawnFjEEYv7WtMF0MB3Lv5ebDSlprcVhlsybicPMeW6mmxrmaVvA6IF1qTyY1jq-hD2Gp&s=1" rel="nofollow" style="color: #141823; cursor: pointer; font-family: Georgia, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Rego vai ser leiloado em Lisboa</span></a></span></div>
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tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-58277178436389745032015-11-03T17:47:00.000-08:002015-11-03T18:27:28.495-08:00A LINGUAGEM POLÍTICA PRESSUPÕE NO OUTRO UM ADVERSÁRIO DUM FANATISMO IRREDUTÍVEL QUIÇÁ IRREVOGÁVEL UM HEREGE INCAPAZ DE SER CONVERTIDO À VERA FÉ ---NENIAM CIE PARALU SAGE FALEC INTER LUPOJ KRIU LUPE ....NUNCA EM TODA A PARTE A SENSATEZ COMANDA QUE ENTRE LOBOS SE GRITE LOBO ...É UMA FÓRMULA DE APAZIGUAMENTO POLÍTICO SUPONHO DAS ADJECTIVAÇÕES DOS ADVERSÁRIOS POLÍTICOS E OUTROS PALERMÓIDES ANO MASCULINO PALERMOIDANO PALERMOIANINO FEMININO ANINO OU AKADEMIANO COMO NÓDOA? ASOCIANO DE LOJA GRANDE ORIENTA-TE LUSITANO COMO SÓ ARES O SABE ?GRUPANO DE PPP ? KLUBANO BENFIKISTANO? RELIGIANO? EUROPANO ARIANO INSULANO NOT AMERIKANO LISBONANO? URBANO? KRISTANO? MAHOMETANO? ISLAMANO? CIVITANO? KORPORACIANO RESPUBLIKANO? SEKTANO FAMILIANO STATANO la kvereloj inter la ŝtato k la eklezio; liberalisma, totalisma, socialema ŝtato. ☞ demokratio, diktaturo? DIKTAMOLANO? SUFIXO AN O INDIVIDUO SIMPATIZA COM AS IDEIAS ACIMA OU NÃO ....IST SUFIXO QUE INDICA SER PARTICIPANTE ACTIVO É BUDHISTO? KOMUNISTO ? BLOKISTO? SOCIALISTO? KALVINISTO ? ANARKISTO?anarkia; anarkisma; anarkie; anarkisme anarchism - anarkismo anarchist - anarkiisto anarchistic - anarkiisma; anarkia anarchy - anarkio; anarkiismo SAMKLASANO DO PEDRO NUNES OU DOUTRO LYCEU PLATONICUS?<div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;">É TODA UMA NOMENKLATURA</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;">AKADEMIANO </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;">ANARO COLECTIVO</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;">AKADEMIANARO</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;">ANECO MEMBRO DA VERA FÉ </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;">SEJA ELA QUAL É</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;">AKADEMIANECO </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;">ANARA GREGÁRIO</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;">ANIGINDA IDEIA DIGNADE ADESÃO</span></span></div>
tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-22193068727742947442015-11-03T17:22:00.003-08:002015-11-03T18:23:12.291-08:00DA LINGUAGEM POLÍTICA - LA PUBLICO KUS CIAM IRAS KIEL ANARO DA SAPOJ POR LA KRIEMULOJ O PÚBLICO COMO UM COLECTIVO DE CARNEIROS OU REBANHO CORRE ATRÁS DOS QUE MAIS GRITAM KRIE CRY FREEDOM FREE DOOM FOR ALL ----SKRIBENDO RAPORTO EKSPEDENDA TELAGRAMO DA ARTE DE DAR EM POLÍTICA - DONU AL INFANTOJ PO TRI POMOJ ..DOU ÀS CRIANÇAS À RAZÃO PO DE TRI 3 POR CADA CRIANÇA ATÉ TEM TAXA DE RETRIBUIÇÃO .....O ESPERANTO COMO LINGUAGEM POLÍTICA TEM PROFUNDAS RAÍZES MORAIS E ÉTICAS INCLUSIVE SUFIXOS QUE DENOTAM AQUILO QUE TEM DE SER FEITO UMA OBRIGAÇÃO PASSIVA DE ORDEM MORAL OU MESMO DO MATERIALISMO DIALÉTICO E ESSE SUFIXO MARXISTA É END ,,,,FARENDA LABORO ...OBRIGAÇÃO MORAL DE EXECUTAR TRABALHO OBRAR LAVORO FACERE ...KOMPLETIGENDA TASKO COMPLETANDO TAREFAS POLÍTICAS ...ATÉ A DICOTOMIA DIREITA SINISTRA ENCONTRA NEGAÇÃO PERFEITA EM ESPERANTO .DEKSTRO DIREITA MALDEKSTRO ESQUERDA EM ESPERANTO A ESQUERDA É A NEGAÇÃO DA DIREITA ... RAÍZES ADJECTIVAS PARA SUBSTANTIVOS POLÍTICOS UNIVERSAIS ,,,DENSEJO (DENSO CERRADO) MALDENSEJO (CLAREIRA POLÍTICA) MALCASTEJO (BORDEL POLÍTICO) malĉastejo.....SOLEJO LUGAR SOLITARIUS APARTIDARIUS TRANSEJO (PONTO DE TRAVESSIA POLÍTICA) KOMFORTAEJO QUARTO TABAK KULTIVEJO LIKIDENDA FAKTURO MERCKELIANO-ESPERANTO Pyramide - (Bauwerk, Geometrie) piramido Pyramiden - (Fiebermittel) piramidono pyramidenförmig - piramida Pyrenäen - (Gebirge) Pireneoj Pyrenäen-Halbinsel - Pirenea Duoninsulo Pyrheliometer - pirheliometro Pyrit - (Mineral) pirito Pyrometer - pirometro pyrophor - pirofora Pyrophor - piroforo Pyrosis - pirozo Pyrotechnik - (Feuerwerkerei) pirotekniko Pyrotechniker - piroteknikisto Pythagoras - Pitagoro Pythagoreer - pitagorano pythagoreisch - pitagora, (Mathematik: pythagoreischer Lehrsatz) Teoremo de Pitagoro Pythagorismus - pitagorismo Python - (Schlange) pitono Päan - peano Pächter - farmanto, farmulo, (als Berufsbezeichnung) farmisto Päckchen - pakaĵeto, malgranda poŝta paketo, paketo Pädagoge - pedagogo Pädagogik - pedagogiko, pedagogio pädagogisch - pedagoga, pedagogia, (erzieherisch) eduka Päderast - pederasto Päderastie - pederastio Pädiater - (Medizin: Kinderarzt) pediatro Pädiatrie - (Medizin: Kindermedizin) pediatrio Pädologie - pedologio Päonie - peonio päpstlich - papa Pärchen - (Liebespaar) amanta paro, (Zoologie) paro (de masklo kaj femalo) Pärfümerie - parfumvendejo Päuschen - ripozeto Pöbel - (Pack) kanajlaro, fipopolo, popolaĉo, popolamaso, (Plebs) plebo pöbelhaft - pleba, plebana, kiel la plebo Pökelfleisch - peklita viando, pekloviando pökeln - (Kochkunst) pekli Pökelwasser - (Salzlake) peklakvo, pekloakvo pünktlich - (genau) ekzakta, preciza, akurata, (strikt) strikta, (rechtzeitig) ĝustatempa Pünktlichkeit - akurateco, ekzakteco, prompteco, precizeco Püree - (Kochkunst) pureo, (Brei) kaĉo<span style="font-size: x-large;">ENDAS COMO RAIZ INDEPENDENTE</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">USA-SE NA ACEPÇÃO DE SER </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NECESSÁRIO, FORÇOSO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">OBRIGATÓRIO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">VIVER É PRECISO </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">EKSPENDENDAS TRI POMOJ</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">DESPACHEI TRÊS POMOS D'OURO</span>tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-11381011911242354552015-09-10T18:56:00.000-07:002015-09-10T18:56:03.786-07:00COMO ESCOLHER UM BOM PRIMEIRO MINISTRO PRIMEIRO DEVE APALPAR-SE BEM A VER SE NÃO TEM NENHUMA DOENÇA ÓDESPOIS PEDE-SE PARA TOSSIR OU CAGAR A VER SE FUNCIONA TUDO BEM DEPOIS METEM-SE A CANTAR E O GALO QUE CANTAR MELHOR VAI PRÓ POLEIRO É SIMPLEX SEJA SIMPLEX NÃO PENSE SEJA BRUTUS<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">AO
MINUTO 33 DO JOGO .....COSTA DESENCOSTA DE SOCRATES SOCRATES ENCOSTA-SE
A PLATÃO PLATÃO DRIBLA E É GOLO DO SPORTING .....COM JESUS TODO O
MESSIAS DESCOLA E TODO O CU DE CHUMBO FICA NO CHÃO</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text2/=010">Über alles in der Welt,</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text3/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text4/=010">Wenn es stets zu Schutz und Trutze</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text5/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text6/=010">Brüderlich zusammenhält.</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text7/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text8/=010">Von der Maas bis an die Memel,</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text9/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text10/=010">Von der Etsch bis an den Belt,</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text11/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text12/=010">|: Deutschland, Deutschland über alles,</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text13/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text14/=010">Über alles in der Welt! :|</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text15/=010" /><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text17/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text18/=010">Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue,</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text19/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text20/=010">Deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text21/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text22/=010">Sollen in der Welt behalten</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text23/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text24/=010">Ihren alten schönen Klang,</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text25/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text26/=010">Uns zu edler Tat begeistern</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text27/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text28/=010">Unser ganzes Leben lang.</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text29/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text30/=010">|: Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue,</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text31/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text32/=010">Deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang! :|</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text33/=010" /><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text35/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text36/=010">Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text37/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text38/=010">Für das deutsche Vaterland!</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text39/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text40/=010">Danach lasst uns alle streben</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text41/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text42/=010">Brüderlich mit Herz und Hand!</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text43/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text44/=010">Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text45/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text46/=010">Sind des Glückes Unterpfand;</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text47/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text48/=010">|: Blüh' im Glanze dieses Glückes,</span><br data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text49/=010" /><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end/=1$text50/=010">Blühe, deutsches Vaterland! :|</span></span></span></span><span data-reactid=".2l.1:4:1:$comment157239934617596_157251024616487/=10.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.6"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">COSTA LANÇA UMA CHAVE INGLESA AO ELEITORADO INDECISO E ROÇA-LHE DELICADAMENTE NO GARGANIL A VER SE NÃO LHE FOGE É POLÍTICA AO ESTILO DOS CHULOS DA MUSGUEIRA COM POCHETE A CONDIZER</span></div>
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tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-64392279615988385092015-08-02T14:40:00.001-07:002015-08-02T14:48:58.526-07:00POIS EM VERDADE VOS DIGO TODOS OS HOMENS E SEUS MESSIAS TÊM O FURTO NA ALMA GREGA ...E SÓ OS IDIOTES DIZEM QUE AS UVAS PÚBLICAS E PÚDICAS ESTÃO VERDES E NUNCA COMERÃO TAL COUSA ...E ANALISAR AS CARTAS DE SOCRATES À ENRABADA JUVENTUDE ATENIENSE OU O PROGRAMA POLÍTICO DE JULIUS CAESAR É UMA PERDA MONUMENTAL DE TEMPO ....UM ERRO DE ANÁLISE CLÁSSICO POIS DESDE 1975 QUE NINGUÉM LÊ PROGRAMAS ELEITORAIS EXCEPTO FANÁTICOS E JORNALISTAS NO FUNDO NO FUNDO FANÁTICOS POR DEFORMAÇÃO PROFISSIONAL QUE ALBERGAM JUNTO COM OS FUNCIONÁRIOS PÚBLICOS A SINCERA CONVICÇÃO DE QUE SÃO HORRIVELMENTE EXPLORADOS E MERECIAM MAIS PELA SUA LABUTA A BEM DA NAÇÃO ILETRADA ...QUE SE RECUSA A LER MAIS DO QUE SMS E LINHAS DE EMOGI'S (L') (L')<ul class=" UFIReplyList" data-reactid=".2e.1:5:1:$replies500884266736144_500891770068727:0">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span data-reactid=".2e.1:5:1:$replies500884266736144_500891770068727:0.1:2:$comment500884266736144_501218843369353:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".2e.1:5:1:$replies500884266736144_500891770068727:0.1:2:$comment500884266736144_501218843369353:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.0.0.0">Obadiah Osmund</span></span><span data-reactid=".2e.1:5:1:$replies500884266736144_500891770068727:0.1:2:$comment500884266736144_501218843369353:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-reactid=".2e.1:5:1:$replies500884266736144_500891770068727:0.1:2:$comment500884266736144_501218843369353:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.0"> </span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".2e.1:5:1:$replies500884266736144_500891770068727:0.1:2:$comment500884266736144_501218843369353:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".2e.1:5:1:$replies500884266736144_500891770068727:0.1:2:$comment500884266736144_501218843369353:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".2e.1:5:1:$replies500884266736144_500891770068727:0.1:2:$comment500884266736144_501218843369353:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">UM
JORNALISTA QUE VIVE DAS AVENÇAS CORPORATIVAS OU UM FUNCIONÁRIO PÚBLICO
EMBORA NÃO TENHAM MUITO RESPEITO POR SI PRÓPRIOS E PELAS SUAS MUTÁVEIS
OPINIÕES ...NORMALMENTE NORMAL MENTE EXIGEM DOS OUTROS MANIFESTAÇÕES DE
FÉ E DIRIA MESMO MAIS MANIFESTAÇÕES DE RESPEITO PELAS SUAS ESCLARECIDAS
OPINIÕES E ANÁLISES ...E ESSA DEFORMAÇÃO PROFISSIONAL QUE RAIA AS
MARGENS DUM EGOTISMO MEGALOMANÍACO NECESSITA MANIFESTAÇÕES DE APOIO DOS
QUE COMANDA E DOS QUE DIZ SERVIR ...O POVO MASSA INFORME ABSTENCIONISTA
QUE PERDE A FÉ EM TODOS OS 5 DE OUTUBROS E EM TODAS AS ABRILADAS VAI
PARA QUASE 200 ANOS ...</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-38801103553145233232015-07-10T09:46:00.002-07:002015-07-10T10:04:35.531-07:00THE KILLING OF POPE PETS......ASAPH ...COBRADOR DE DEUS ...DEUS RECOLHE ...ASAF : אָסָף (Ancient Hebrew) PRONOUNCED: AY-saf (English) "collector" in Hebrew AFRICA ...IRAK SYRIA 2015 ....IT'S A TREND .... 14 january 1992 ROAD KILL ...FOUR POPE PET'S AND THE FIRST PROT KILLING THIS YEAR ....IN BELFAST NEAR THE TITANIC A PRO ZONE ...UDF UND SO WEITER NINGUÉM PENSAVA QUE OS POPE PETS CHEGARIAM ATÉ ALI .... Ó FILHA BAI-TE TRATAR TOMA XANAX ...QUEM QUER SABER DE GENOCÍDIOS AU RALENTI NUM MUNDO COM 7255 MEGA SOULS China 1,367,485,388 2 India 1,251,695,584 3 United States 321,368,864 4 Indonesia 255,993,674 5 Brazil 204,259,812 6 Pakistan 199,085,847 7 Nigeria 181,562,056 8 Bangladesh 168,957,745 9 Russia 142,423,773 10 Japan 126,919,659 11 Mexico 121,736,809 12 Philippines 100,998,376 13 Ethiopia 99,465,819 14 Vietnam 94,348,835 15 Egypt 88,487,396 16 Iran 81,824,270 17 Germany 80,854,408 18 Turkey 79,414,269 19 Congo (Kinshasa) 79,375,136 20 Thailand 67,976,405 21 France 66,553,766 22 United Kingdom 64,088,222 23 Italy 61,855,120 24 Burma 56,320,206 25 South Africa 53,675,563 26 Tanzania 51,045,882 27 Korea, South 49,115,196 28 Spain 48,146,134 29 Colombia 46,736,728 30 Kenya 45,925,301 31 Ukraine 44,429,471 32 Argentina 43,431,886 33 Algeria 39,542,166 34 Poland 38,562,189 35 Uganda 37,101,745 36 Iraq 37,056,169 37 Sudan 36,108,853 38 Canada 35,099,836 39 Morocco 33,322,699 40 Afghanistan 32,564,342 41 Nepal 31,551,305 42 Malaysia 30,513,848 43 Peru 30,444,999 44 Venezuela 29,275,460 45 Uzbekistan 29,199,942 46 Saudi Arabia 27,752,316 47 Yemen 26,737,317 48 Ghana 26,327,649 49 Mozambique 25,303,113 50 Korea, North 24,983,205 From Old Norse alfr, from Proto-Germanic *albiz, ultimately from Proto-Indo-European *albʰós. Noun alf c (singular definite alfen, plural indefinite alfer)<span style="font-size: x-large;">ULSTER kato's against prot's </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">a economic little war</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NOBODY ARE THINKING THEY HAVE THE </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">GUTS TO BE IN WERE .....</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">AND THE POPE PETS DROP ONE PROT </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">IN A PROT ZONE </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">FREE RANGE POPE PET'S </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">O R.U.C. PASSA A QUEIXA CRIME </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">DEVAGAR A CANETA TAMBÉM É </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">PROTESTANTE</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">PROTESTA PROTESTA </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">E NÃO ESCREVE NADA</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">UM DIZ SE FOSSE COM UM PROTESTANTE</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ESCREVIAS MAIS DEPRESSA</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">E O R.U.C. RI-SE E DIZ</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">É UMA QUESTÃO DE CLASSE </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NÃO DE RELIGIÃO ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">YOU ARE POOR .......</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">TENHO UM PINGUIM EM CIMA </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">DO ESTERNO</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">E SÓ AGORA DEI POR ELE </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ESTOU DE CAMISOLA INTERIOR </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NUM BAIRRO RAIDED BY THE ROYAL </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ULSTER CONSTABULARY </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ESTAVA-SE BEM DENTRO DE CASA </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">VERY NICE TEMPERATURE </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">IT'S COLD OUT THERE .... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />PAPERS ....I DON'T HAVE DRIVER'S </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">LICENCE </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">-SO SORRY SAY THE R.U.C. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I JUST THINKING YOU ARE ONE OF THEM</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- I JUST SEE ELVIS IN JARROW ....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">PLENTY OF PEOPLE ARE GOING TO SEE</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">THE WORST IMITATION OF ELVIS </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">IN A SMALL TOWN IN THE UNITED </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">KINGDOM</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NOT SO UNITED </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">IN THIS DAYS OF ECONOMIC</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">DEBACLE </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I love <b>Jarrow town centre</b> WITH ELVIS IN IT</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> or the viking <b>centre</b> which it it known as. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">It has everything you need </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">in quite a compact space AND TIME </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">IS MONEY </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">15TH JANUARY 1992 ...7.30 AM TO 8.30 A.M</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">IN THE DUSK GIRLS AND BOYS IN </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">THE PARK FUCKING AND SO WEITER </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">THEY ARRIVE TO SCHOOL AT 9:00 AND </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">SOME LATER </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">THEY SCREAM AND LAUGHING ALOUD </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- HEY ....SHUT UP ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">-WE ARE JUST TRAINING OUT THERE</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- ALEXANDRA ....HELPER OF MEN ....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">SANDERS SANDY SAWNIE ALECK</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">SMART ....ALECK ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">-AND ALEXANDRE? ..SAYS THE SANDRO </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ALESANDRO WHOOPING ITALIAN </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- JUST THE SAME .....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">AND THE LOUD NOISE END......</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ARTHUR? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">AH ARTURUS ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ARCTURUS IN GALACTIC </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">IT'S CELTIC ......HIGH..... NOBLE....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">AND ARCHEMBAULT ? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">TEUTONIC ....BRAVE ....ARCHIBALD </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ARCHIBALDUS ...LATIN ...CORAJOSO</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">CURIOSO CORAGEM</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> IR NA VORAGEM </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">DO VAGÃO J.... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ARCIBALDO ....GREASY ITALIAN THAT GO </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">TO THE WOOD'S WITH ANOTHER SMART </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ALECK .....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- WELL WE DON'T ANITHING </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">BETTER TO DO......JUST FUCKING AND </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">SMOKING </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ARNOLD? ...STRONG LIKE A EAGLE ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ATHANASIOS? ...IT'S GREEK</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- THAT I KNOW... SAY THE FUCKING GREEK</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">THAT FUCKS CHARLOTTE ALOT </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">IMMORTAL....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">A ....NOT ...OR OXI IN YOUR CASE ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">THANATOS DEATH </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">WITHOUT DEATH ....ATHANASIOS </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- WELL IF I'M IMMORTAL I NEVER CATCH</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">AIDS LIKE THE....YOU KNOW WHO....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">-DOCTOR WHO? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- NO MAN..... THE FREDDIE......</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> - AH ....IS DEAD LIKE ELVIS ...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- AND CHARLES? CHARLOTTE ALOT ......</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- WELL IT'S THE SAME LIKE CARRIE </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">CADDIE ....CAROLINA ...CAROLUS </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">CARLO .... KARL ...MARX </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">IT'S TEUTONIC ...STRONG MANLY </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">MASCULINO MASCIO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">....MASCIOVECCHIO SAY'S SANDRO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- CHARLEY DELTA TANGO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">-THE BOAT PEOPLE THEY ARE NAMED </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">CHARLEY DURING THE WAR ....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">-YEP ...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">-WHAT WAR? THE FALKLAND'S WAR?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">- NO BEFORE THAT </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ALF? ....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">-IT'S A FUZZY WUZZIE ALIEN </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ALF TEUTONIC ...AN ELF</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> ALFRED ....FREDO FREDDIE ...MERCURY</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">BOM CONSELHEIRO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">QUE DÁ CONSELHOS </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">WHO THAT LISTEN TO OTHERS ...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">WHO THAT ARE IN THE KING'S COUNSEL <br /><span class="info">AL-frəd <b>(English)</b>, al-FRED <b>(French)</b>, AHL-fret <b>(German, Polish)</b>, AHL-frət <b>(Dutch)</b> <a class="sidelink" href="http://www.behindthename.com/info/pronunciation">[key]</a></span>
</span><br />
<div class="nameheading" style="clear: none;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Meaning & History</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
Derived from the Old English name <i>Ælfræd</i>, composed of the elements <i>ælf</i> "elf" and <i>ræd</i> "counsel". ...ALEUREDUS </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ALFRED LORD ...TENNYSON </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">OPEN THE BOOK'S IN THE PAGE ..... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="namepagename">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ÆÐELSTAN</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> Old English elements <i>æðel</i> "noble" and <i>stan</i> "stone". This was the name of an early king of England. The name was rarely used after the Norman conquest.
</span><br />
<div class="nameheading">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Related Names</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span>
<div style="float: right; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 5px;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<div class="namesub">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="namesub">VARIANT:</span> </span><span class="info"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Æthelstan ATHELSTAN </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">From <span class="etyl">Middle Dutch</span> <i class="Latn mention" lang="dum">alf</i>. Ultimately from <span class="etyl">Proto-Germanic</span> <i class="Latinx mention" lang="gem-pro">*albiz</i>, ultimately from <span class="etyl">Proto-Indo-European</span> <i class="Latinx mention" lang="ine-pro">*albʰós</i>. Doublet with Dutch (<span class="mention-gloss-double-quote">“</span><span class="mention-gloss">elf</span><span class="mention-gloss-double-quote">”</span>), a modern borrowing from English.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="mw-headline" id="Noun_2"><br /></span></span></h3>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b class="Latn headword" lang="nl">alf</b> <span class="gender"><abbr title="masculine gender">m</abbr></span> (<i>plural</i> <span class="form-of lang-nl plural-form-of"><b class="Latn" lang="nl">alven</b></span>, <i>diminutive</i> <span class="form-of lang-nl diminutive-form-of"><b class="Latn" lang="nl">alfje</b> <span class="gender"><abbr title="neuter gender">n</abbr></span></span>, <i>feminine</i> <b class="Latn" lang="nl">alve</b>)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-size: x-large;">a type of mythological spirit; an elf</span></li>
</ol>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-61041027880297288272015-05-15T14:47:00.000-07:002015-05-15T14:51:25.348-07:00DOS FRIOS VENTOS DO DIVÓRCIO TELEVISIVO MUITO VIVO....CACEM AS GAJAS QUE BATERAM NO MIÚDO OU NÓS VAMO-NOS A ELES...COM AS TV'S DITAS PRIVADAS VIRIA DIVERSIDADE E ADMITAMOS UM POUCO DE JORNALISMO SENSIONALISTA OU AO ESTILO DO SUN ...OU DOUTRO PASQUIM EXTRATERRESTRE COPULA COM AUTARCA E COME BOLAS DE BERLIM ...EMPURRA E VÊ SE CAI ...SE CAI É NOTÍCIA OU PELO MENOS DÁ UM EPISÓDIO DE CANDID CÂMARA Ó SANTA CAMARÃO ....TEMOS UM JORNAL DO CRIME DESDE O JUIZ DECIDE ATÉ AO CMTV ALGURES NOS ANOS 90 UM REPÓRTER COM LÁGRIMA CROCODILIANA NO CANTO 10º DO OLHO CAMONIANO A DIZER A SUA SOBRINHA MORREU...E OS PAIS COMO É QUE SE SENTEM ? PODIA SER PAIS PODIA SER PAÍS PODIA SER FELIZ OU DE NAZIS ....A SUA TELEVISÃO MORREU E MESMO DEPOIS DE MORTA CONTINUA A EMPESTAR-NOS ...E VENHA A NÓS O VOSSO REYNO OU CALIFADO UMA MERDA DESSAS DO HORÁRIO DITO NOBRE ...OU SAMPAIO<span style="font-size: x-large;">EXPLORAR A MORTE OU A DESGRAÇA </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ALHEIA APELA AO MIRONE QUE HÁ EM </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">TODOS NÓS EXORCIZAM-SE OS PECADOS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NOS NÓS ALHEIOS EM NÓS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">A SIC E A RTP NA CONTINUAÇÃO</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">DO SERVIÇO PÚBICO</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">FORMARAM OS PRIMEIROS PELOTÕES</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">DE LINCHAMENTO VIRTUAL</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">QUE SE TORNARAM GLOBAIS </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">AQUAPARQUES ESTRIPADORES</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">PETIZES DE CASAS PIAS VÁRIAS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">DESEMPREGADOS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">AGITADORES SEM PARTIDO FORMADO</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">APÓSTOLOS DO ÓDIO À CAÇA DE FIÉIS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ANARQUISTAS DE CAFÉ </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">CORTESÃOS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">CURIOSOS DA VIDA REAL E IRREAL</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">E DE SOFÁ QUE ESTAVAM PERTO DA CENA</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ATRAÍDOS PELAS CÂMARAS TELEVISIVAS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">QUE CHEIRAM SANGUE</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">MARCHARAM PARA A VITÓRIA FINAL</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">TURBA VIRTUAL À CAÇA DE QUEM</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">LINCHAR</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">PARTIR VIDROS PARA A TV MOSTRAR</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">O POVO INDIGNADO</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">INDIGNADO COM QUÊ?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">COM COUSAS COM CENAS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">QUE CENAS?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NÃO SEI....METAM-NOS NOS BURACOS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ESFOLEM OS CAVACOS</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">E ASSIM FOI 28 A 30 DE JULHO DE UM </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">SÉCULO XX QUALQUER OU XXI OU XXII</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">ENQUANTO A TELEVISÃO DURAR</span><br />
<br />
tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-12570815932906595932015-04-15T17:03:00.000-07:002015-04-15T17:25:13.661-07:00EM CADA ANÃO DA BUROCRACIA MUNDIAL HABITA UM NAPOLEÃO DE LABITA QUE NÃO LABUTA NEM À BRUTA ...EM CADA BRUTUS NASCE O KAOS DEBITADO EM MINUTOS It was August 19, 2037. The United Nations was just fifty years old. Televisors were still monochromatic. The Nidics had just won the World Series in Prague. Com-Pub observatories were publishing elaborate figures on moving specks in space which they considered to be Martian spaceships on their way to Earth, but which United Nations astronomers could not discover at all. Women were using gilt lipsticks that year. Heat-induction motors were still considered efficient prime movers. Thorn Hard was a high-level flier for the Pacific Watch. Bathyletis was the most prominent of nationally advertised diseases, and was to be cured by RO-17, "The Foundation of Personal Charm." Somebody named Nirdlinger was President of the United Nations, and somebody else named Krassin was Commissar of Commissars for the Com-Pubs. Newspapers were printing flat pictures in three colors only, and deploring the high cost of stereoscopic plates. And ... Thorn Hard was a high-level flier for the Pacific Watch. That is the essential point, of course—Thorn Hard's work with the Watch. His job was, officially, hanging somewhere above the twenty-thousand-foot level with his detector-screens out, listening for unauthorized traffic. And, the normal state of affairs between the Com-Pubs and the United Nations being one of highly armed truce, "unauthorized traffic" meant nothing more or less than spies. But on August 19th, 2037, Thorn Hard was off duty. Decidedly so. He was sitting on top of Mount Wendel, in the Rockies; he had a ravishingly pretty girl sitting on the same rock with him, and he was looking at the sunset. The plane behind him was an official Watch plane, which civilians are never supposed to catch a glimpse of. It had brought Thorn Hard and Sylva West to this spot. It waited now, half-hidden by a spur of age-eroded rock, to take them back to civilization again. Its G.C. (General Communication) phone muttered occasionally like the voice of conscience.The colors of the mountain changed and blended. The sky to westward was a glory of a myriad colors. Man and girl, high above the world, sat with the rosy glow of dying sunlight in their faces and watched the colors fade and shift into other colors and patterns even more exquisite. Their hands touched. They looked at each other. They smiled queerly, as people smile who are in love or otherwise not quite sane. They moved inevitably closer.... And then the G.C. phone barked raucously: "All Watch planes attention! Urgent! Extreme high-level traffic reported seven-ten line bound due east, speed over one thousand. All Watch planes put out all detectors and use extra vigilance. Note: the speed, course, and time of report of this traffic checks with Com-Pub observations of moving objects approaching Earth from Mars. This possibility should be considered before opening fire." Thorn Hard stiffened all over. He got up and swung down to the stubby little ship with its gossamer-like wings of cellate. He touched the report button. "Plane 257-A reporting seven-ten line. Thorn Hard flying. On Mount Wendel, on leave. Orders?" He was throwing on the screens even as he reported. And the vertical detector began to whistle shrilly. His eyes darted to the dial, and he spoke again. "Added report. Detector shows traffic approaching, bound due east, seven hundred miles an hour, high altitude.... Correction; six-fifty miles. Correction; six hundred." He paused. "Traffic is decelerating rapidly. I think, sir, this is the reported ship." And then there was a barely audible whining noise high in the air to the west. It grew in volume and changed in pitch. From a whine it became a scream. From a scream it rose to a shriek. Something monstrous and red glittered in the dying sunlight. It was huge. It was of no design ever known on earth. Wings supported it, but they were obscured by the blasts of forward rockets checking its speed. It was dropping rapidly. Then lifting-rockets spouted flame to keep it from too rapid a descent. It cleared a mountain-peak by a bare two hundred feet, some two miles to the south. It was a hundred-odd feet in length. It was ungainly in shape, monstrous in conformation. Colossal rocket-tubes behind it now barely trickled vaporous discharges. It cleared the mountain-top, went heavily on in a steep glide downward, and vanished behind a mountain-flank. Presently the thin mountain air brought the echoed sound of its landing, of rapid-fire explosions of rocket-tubes, and then silence. Thorn Hard was snapping swift, staccato sentences into the report-transmitter. Describing the clumsy glittering monster, its motion; its wings; its method of propulsion. It seemed somehow familiar despite its strangeness. He said so. Then a vivid blue flame licked all about the rim of the world and was gone. Simultaneously the G.C. speaker crashed explosively and went dead. Thorn went on grimly, switching in the spare. "A very violent electrical discharge went out from it then. A blue light seemed to flash all around the horizon at no great distance and my speaker blew out. I have turned on the spare. I do not know whether my sender is functioning—" The spare speaker cut in abruptly at that moment: "It is. Stay where you are and observe. A squadron is coming." Then the voice broke off, because a new sound was coming from the speaker. It was a voice that was unhuman and queerly horrible and somehow machine-like. Hoots and howls and whistles came from the speaker. Wailing sounds. Ghostly noises, devoid of consonants but broadcast on a wave-length close to the G.C. band and therefore produced by intelligence, though unintelligible. The unhuman hoots and wails and whistles came through for nearly a minute, and stopped. "Stay on duty!" snapped the G.C. speaker. "That's no language known on earth. Those are Martians!" Thorn looked up to see Sylva standing by the Watch-plane door. Her face was pale in the growing darkness outside. "Beginning duty sir," said Thorn steadily, "I report that I have with me Miss Sylva West, my fiancée, in violation of regulations. I ask that her family be notified." He snapped off the lights and went with her. The red rocket-ship had landed in the very next valley. There was a glare there, which wavered and flickered and died away. "Martians!" said Thorn in fine irony. "We'll see when the Watch planes come! My guess is Com-Pubs, using a searchlight! Nervy!" The glare vanished. There was only silence, a curiously complete and deadly silence. And Thorn said, suddenly: "There's no wind!" There was not. Not a breath of air. The mountains were uncannily quiet. The air was impossibly still, for a mountain-top. Ten minutes went by. Twenty. The detector-whistles shrilled. "There's the Watch," said Thorn in satisfaction. "Now we'll see!" And then, abruptly, there was a lurid flash in the sky to northward. Two thousand feet up and a mile away, the unearthly green blaze of a hexynitrate explosion lit the whole earth with unbearable brilliance. "Stop your ears!" snapped Thorn.<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>he racking concussion-wave of hexynitrate will break human eardrums
at an incredible distance. But no sound came, though the seconds went
by.... Then, two miles away, there was a second gigantic flash....
Then a third.... But there was no sound at all. The quiet of the hills
remained unbroken, though Thorn knew that such cataclysmic detonations
should be audible at twenty miles or more. Then lights flashed on
above. Two—three—six of them. They wavered all about, darting here
and there.... Then one of the flying searchlights vanished utterly in
a fourth terrific flash of green.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"The watch planes are going up!" said Thorn dazedly. "Blowing up! And
we can't hear the explosions!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Behind him the G.C. speaker barked his call. He raced to get its
message.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"The Watch planes we sent to join you," said a curt voice he
recognized as that of the Commanding General of the United Nations,
"have located an invisible barrier by their sonic altimeters. Four of
them seem to have rammed it and exploded without destroying it. What
have you to report?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"I've seen the flashes, sir," said Thorn unsteadily, "but they made no
noise. And there's no wind, sir. Not a breath since the blue flash I
reported."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">A pause.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Your statement bears out their report," said the G.C. speaker
harshly. "The barrier seems to be hemispherical. No such barrier is
known on Earth. These must be Martians, as the Com-Pubs said. You will
wait until morning and try to make peaceful contact with them. This
barrier may be merely a precaution on their part. You will try to
convince them that we wish to be friendly."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"I don't believe they're Martians, sir—"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Sylva came racing to the door of the plane.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Thorn! Something's coming! I hear it droning!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn himself heard a dull droning noise in the air, coming toward
him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Occupants of the rocket-ship, sir," he said grimly, "seem to be
approaching. Orders?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Evacuate the ship," snapped the G.C. phone. "Let them examine it.
They will understand how we communicate and prepare to receive and
exchange messages. If they seem friendly, make contact at once."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>horn made swift certain movements and dived for the door. He seized
Sylva and fled for the darkness below the plane. He was taking a
desperate risk of falling down the mountain-slopes. The droning drew
near. It passed directly overhead. Then there was a flash and a
deafening report. A beam of light appeared aloft. It searched for and
found Thorn's plane, now a wreck. Flash after flash and explosion
after explosion followed....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">They stopped. Their echoes rolled and reverberated among the hills.
There was a hollow, tremendous intensification of the echoes aloft as
if a dome of some solid substance had reflected back the sound. Slowly
the rollings died away. Then a voice boomed through a speaker
overhead, and despite his suspicions Thorn felt a queer surprise. It
was a human voice, a man's voice, full of a horrible amusement.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Thorn Hardt! Thorn Hardt! Where are you?" Thorn did not move or
reply. "If I haff not killed you, you hear me," the voice chuckled.
"Come to see me, Thorn Hardt. Der dome of force iss big, yes, but you
can no more get out than your friends can get in. And now I haff
destroyed your phones so you can no longer chat with them. Come and
see me, Thorn Hardt, so I will not be bored. We will discuss der
Com-Pubs. And bring der lady friend. You may play der chaperon!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The voice laughed. It was not pleasant laughter. And the humming drone
in the air rose and dwindled. It moved away from the mountain-top. It
lessened and lessened until it was inaudible. Then there was dead
silence again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"By his accent, he's a Baltic Russian," said Thorn very grimly in the
darkness. "Which means Com-Pubs, not Martians, though we're the only
people who realize it; and they're starting a war! And we, Sylva, must
warn our people. How are we going to do it?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">She pressed his hand confidently, but it did not look promising. Thorn
Hard was on foot, without a transmitter, armed only with his
belt-weapons and with a girl to look after, and moreover imprisoned in
a colossal dome of force which hexynitrate had failed to crack....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">I</span>t was August 20, 2037. There was a triple murder in Paris which was
rumored to be the work of a Com-Pub spy, though the murderer's
unquestionably Gallic touches made the rumor dubious. Newspaper
vendor-units were screaming raucously, "Martians land in Colorado!"
and the newspapers themselves printed colored-photos of hastily
improvised models in their accounts of the landing of a blood-red
rocket-ship in the widest part of the Rockies. The inter-continental
tennis matches reached their semi-finals in Havana, Cuba. Thorn Hard
had not reported to Watch headquarters in twelve hours. Quadruplets
were born in Des Moines, Iowa. Krassin, Commissar of Commissars of the
Com-Pubs, made a diplomatic inquiry about the rumors that a Martian
space-ship had landed in North America. He asked that Com-Pub
scientists be permitted to join in the questioning and examination of
the Martian visitors. The most famous European screen actress landed
from the morning Trans-Atlantic plane with her hair dyed a light
lavender, and beauty-shops throughout the country placed rush orders
for dye to take care of the demand for lavender hair which would begin
by mid-afternoon. The heavy-weight champion of the United Nations was
warned that his title would be forfeited if he further dodged a fight
with his most promising contender. And ... Thorn Hard had not reported
to Watch headquarters in twelve hours.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He was, as a matter of fact, cautiously parting some bushes to peer
past a mountain-flank at the red rocket-ship. Sylva West lay on the
ground behind him. Both of them weary to the point of exhaustion. They
had started their descent from Mount Wendel at the first gray streak
of dawn in the east. They had toiled painfully across the broken
country between, to this point of vantage. Now Thorn looked down upon
the rocket-ship.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">I</span>t lay a little askew upon the ground, seeming to be partly buried in
the earth. A hundred feet and more in length, it was even more
obviously a monstrosity as he looked at it in the bright light of day.
But now it was not alone. Beside it a white tower reared upward. Pure
white and glistening in the sunshine, a bulging, uneven shaft rose a
hundred feet sheer. It looked as solid as marble. Its purpose was
unguessable. There was a huge, fan-shaped space where the vegetation
about the rocket-ship was colored a vivid red. In air-photos, the
rocket-ship would look remarkably like something from another planet.
But nearby, Thorn could see a lazy trickle of fuel-fumes from a
port-pipe on one side of the monster....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"That tower is nothing but cellate foam, which hardens. And Sylva!
See?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">She came cautiously through the brushwood and looked down. She
shivered a little. From here they could see beneath the bows of the
rocket-ship. And there was a name there, in the Cyrillic alphabet
which was the official written language of the Com-Pubs. Here, on
United Nations soil, it was insolent. It boasted that the red ship
came, not from an alien planet, but from a nation more alien still to
all the United Nations stood for. The Com-Pubs—the Union of Communist
Republics—were neither communistic nor republics, but they were much
more dangerous to the United Nations than any mere Martians would have
been.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"We'll have some heavy ships here to investigate, soon," said Thorn
grimly. "Then I'll signal!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">H</span>e flung back his head. High up and far away, beyond that invisible
barrier against which Watch-planes had flung themselves in vain, there
were tiny motes in mid-air. These were Watch planes too, hovering
outside the obstacle they could not see, but which even hexynitrate
bombs could not break through. And very far away indeed there was a
swiftly-moving small dark cloud. As Thorn watched, that cloud drew
close. As his eyes glowed, it resolved itself into its component
specks. Small, two-man patrol-scouts. Larger, ten-man cruisers of the
air. Huge, massive dreadnaughts of the blue. A complete
combat-squadron of the United Nations Fighting Forces was sweeping to
position about the dome of force above the rocket-ship.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The scouts swept forward in a tiny, whirling cloud. They sheered away
from something invisible. One of them dropped a smoking object. It
emitted a vast cloud of paper, which the wind caught and swept away,
and suddenly wrapped about a definite section of an arc. More and more
of the tiny smoke-bombs released their masses of cloudlike stuff. In
mid-air a dome began to take form, outlined by the trailing streaks of
gray. It began to be more definitely traced by interlinings. An aerial
lattice spread about a portion of a six-mile hemisphere. The top was
fifteen thousand feet above the rocket-ship, twenty-five thousand feet
from sea-level, as high as Mount Everest itself.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Tiny motes hovered even there, where the smallest of visible specks
was a ten-man cruiser. And one of the biggest of the aircraft came
gingerly up to the very inner edge of the lattice-work of fog and hung
motionless, holding itself aloft by powerful helicopter screws. Men
were working from a trailing stage—scientists examining the barrier
even hexynitrate would not break down.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>horn set to work. He had come toilsomely to the neighborhood of the
rocket-ship because he would have to do visual signaling, and there
was no time to lose. The dome of force was transparent. The air fleet
would be trying to communicate through it with the Martians they
believed were in the rocket-ship. Sunlight reflected from a polished
canteen would attract attention instantly from a spot near the red
monster, while elsewhere it might not be observed for a long time.
But, trying every radio wave-band, and every system of visual
signaling, and watching and testing for a reply, Thorn's signal ought
to be picked up instantly.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He handed his pocket speech-light receptor to Sylva. It is standard
equipment for all flying personnel, so they may receive non-broadcast
orders from flight leaders. He pointed to a ten-man cruiser from
which shone the queer electric-blue glow of a speech-light.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Listen in on that," he commanded. "I'm going to call them. Tell me
when they answer."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He began to flash dots and dashes in that quaintly archaic telegraph
alphabet Watch fliers are still required to learn. It was the Watch
code call, sent over and over again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"They're trying to make the Martians understand," said Sylva
unsteadily with the speech-light receiver at her ear.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">F</span>lash—flash—flash.... Thorn kept on grimly. The canteen top was
slightly convex, so the sunlight-beam would spread. Accuracy was not
needed, therefore. He covered and uncovered it, and covered and
uncovered it....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"They answered!" said Sylva eagerly. "They said 'Thorn Hard report at
once!'"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">There was a hissing, roaring noise over the hillside, where the red
rocket-ship lay. Thorn paid no attention. He began to spell out, in
grim satisfaction:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"R-o-c-k-e-t s-h-i-p i-s—"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Look out!" gasped Sylva. "They say look out, Thorn!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Then she screamed. As Thorn swung his head around, he saw a dense mass
of white vapor rushing over the hillside toward them. He picked Sylva
up in his arms and ran madly....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The white vapor tugged at his knees. It was a variation of a
vortex-stream. He fought his way savagely toward higher ground. The
white vapor reached his waist.... It reached his shoulders.... He
slung Sylva upon his shoulder and fought more madly still to get out
of the wide white current.... It submerged him in its stinging, bitter
flood.... As he felt himself collapsing his last conscious thought was
the bitter realization that the bulbous white tower had upheld
television lenses at its top, which had watched his approach and
inspection of the rocket-ship, and had enabled those in the red
monster to accurately direct their spurt of gas.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">His next sensation was that of pain in his lungs. Something that
smarted intolerably was being forced into his nostrils, and he battled
against the agony it produced. And then he heard someone chuckle
amusedly and felt the curious furry sensation of electric anesthesia
beginning....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">W</span>hen he came to himself again a machine was clicking erratically and
there was the soft whine of machinery going somewhere. He opened his
eyes and saw red all about him. He stirred, and he was free.
Painfully, he sat up and blinked about him with streaming,
gas-irritated eyes. He had been lying on a couch. He was in a room
perhaps fifteen feet by twenty, of which the floor was slightly
off-level. And everything in the room was red. Floor and walls and
ceiling, the couch he had lain on and the furniture itself. There was
a monstrous bulk of a man sitting comfortably in a chair on the other
side of the room, pecking at a device resembling a writing-machine.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn sat still for an instant, gaining strength. Then he flung
himself desperately across the room, his fingers curved into talons.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Five feet, ten, with the slant of the floor giving him added
impetus.... Then his muscles tightened convulsively. A wave of pure
agony went through his body. He dropped and lay writhing on the floor,
while the high-frequency currents of an induction-screen had their way
with him. He was doubled into a knot by his muscles responding to the
electric stimulus instead of his will. Sheer anguish twisted him. And
the room filled with a hearty bellow of laughter. The monstrous
whiskered man had turned about and was shaking with merriment.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He picked up a pocket-gun from beside him and turned off a switch at
his elbow. Thorn's muscles were freed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Go back, my friendt," boomed the same voice that had come from a
speaker the night before. "Go to der couch. You amuse me and you haff
already been useful, but I shall haff no hesitation in killing you.
You are Thorn Hardt. My name is Kreynborg. How do you do?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Where's my friend?" demanded Thorn savagely. "Where is she?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Der lady friendt? There!" The whiskered man pointed negligently with
the pocket-gun. "I gafe her a bunk to slumber in."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>here was a niche in the wall, which Thorn had not seen. Sylva was
there, sleeping the same heavy, dreamless sleep from which Thorn
himself had just awakened. He went to her swiftly. She was breathing
naturally, though tears from the irritating gas still streaked her
face and her skin seemed to be pinkened a little from the same cause.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn swung around. His weapons were gone, of course. The huge man
snapped on the induction-screen switch again and put down his weapon.
With that screen separating the room into two halves, no living thing
could cross it without either such muscular paralysis as Thorn had
just experienced, or death. Coils in the floor induced alternating
currents in the flesh itself, very like those currents used for
supposed medical effects in "medical batteries," and "shockers."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Be calm!" said Kreynborg, chuckling. "I am pleased to haff company.
This is der loneliest spot in der Rockies. It was chosen for that
reason. But I shall be here for maybe months, and now I shall not be
lonely. We of der Com-Pubs haff scientific resources such as your
fools haff nefer dreamed of, but there is no scientific substitute for
a pretty woman."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He turned again to the writing device. It clicked half a dozen times
more, and he stopped. A strip of paper came out of it. He inserted it
into the slot of another mechanism and switched on a standard G.C.
phone as the paper began to feed. In seconds the room was filled with
unearthly hoots and wails and whistles. They came from the device into
which the paper was feeding, and they poured into the G.C.
transmitter. They went on for nearly a minute, and ceased. Kreynborg
shut off the transmitter.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"My code," he observed comfortably, "gifing der good news to
Stalingrad. Everything is going along beautifully. I roused der fair
Sylva and kissed her a few times to make her scream into a record, and
I interpolated her screamings into der last code transmission. Your
wise men think der Martians haff vivisected her. They are
concentrating der entire fighting force of der United Nations outside
der dome of force. And all for a few kisses!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>horn was white with rage. His eyes burned with a terrible fury. His
hands shook. Kreynborg chuckled again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Oh, she is unharmed—so far. I haff not much time now. Presently der
two of you will while away der time. But not now."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He switched on the G.C. receiver and the room filled with a multitude
of messages. Thorn sat beside Sylva, watching, watching, watching,
while invisible machinery whined softly and Kreynborg listened
intently to the crisp, curt official reports that came through on the
Fighting Force band. Three combat-squadrons were on the spot now;
One, Three and Eight. Four more were coming at fast cruising
speed—four hundred miles an hour. One combat-squadron of the whole
fleet alone would be left to cope with all other emergencies that
might arise.... A television screen lighted up and Thorn could see
where the lenses on the bulbous tower showed the air all about filled
with fighting-planes, hovering about the dome of force like moths
beating their wings against a screen. The strongest fighting-force in
the world, helpless against a field of electric energy!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"It is amusing," chuckled Kreynborg, looking at the screen
complacently. "Der dome of force is a new infention. It is a
heterodyning of one frequency upon another at a predetermined
distance. It has all der properties of matter except mass and a limit
of strength. There is no limit to its strength! But it cannot be made
except in a sphere, so at first it seemed only a defensif weapon. With
it, we could defy der United Nations to attack us. But we wished to do
more. So I proposed a plan, and I haff der honor of carrying it out.
If I fail, Krassin disavows me. But I shall not fail, and I shall end
as Commissar for der continent of North America!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">H</span>e looked wisely at Thorn, who sat motionless.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"You keep quiet, eh, and wait for me to say something indiscreet?
Ferry well, I tell you. We are in a sort of gold-fish globe of
electric force. Your air fleet cannot break in. You know that! Also,
if they were in they could not break out again. So I wait, fery
patiently pretending to be a Martian until all your Fighting Force has
gathered around in readiness to fight me. But I shall not fight. I
shall simply make a new and larger gold-fish globe, outside of this
one. And then I go out and make faces at der Fighting Force of der
United Nations imprisoned between der two of them—and then der
Com-Pub fleet comes ofer!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He stood up and put his hand on a door-knob.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Is it not pretty?" he asked blandly. "In two weeks der air fleet will
begin to starfe. In three, there will be cannibalism, unless der
Com-Pubs accept der surrender. Imagine...." He laughed. "But do not
fear, my friendt! I haff profisions for a year. If you are amusing, I
feed you. In any case I exchange food for kisses with der charming
Sylva. It will be amusing to change her from a woman who screams as I
kiss her, to one who weeps for joy. If I do not haff to kill you, you
shall witness it!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He vanished through a doorway on the farther side of the room.
Instantly Thorn was on his feet. The dead slumber in which Sylva was
sunk was wholly familiar. Electric anesthesia, used not only for
surgery, but to enforce complete rest at any chosen moment. He dragged
her from that couch to his own. He saw her stir, and her eyes were
instantly wide with terror. But Thorn was tearing the couch to pieces.
Cover, pneumatic mattress.... He ripped out a loosely-fitting
frame-piece of steel.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Quick,now," he said in a low tone, "I'm going to short the
induction-screen. We'll get across it. Then—out the door!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">S</span>he struggled to her feet, terrified, but instantly game. Thorn slid
the rod of metal across the stretch of flooring he had previously been
unable to cross. The induced currents in the rod amounted to a
short-circuit of the field. The rod grew hot and its paint blistered
smokily. Thorn leaped across with Sylva in his wake. He pointed to the
door, and she fled through it. He seized a chair, crashed it
frenziedly into the television screen, and had switched on the G.C.
phone when there was a roar of fury from Kreynborg. Instantly there
was the spitting sound of a pocket-gun and in the red room the racking
crash of a hexynitrate pellet. Nothing can stand the instant crash of
hexynitrate. Its concussion-wave is a single pulsation of the air. The
cellate diaphragm of the G.C. transmitter tore across from its
violence and Thorn cursed bitterly. There was no way, now, of
signaling....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">A second racking crash as a second pellet flashed its tiny green
flame. Kreynborg was using a pocket-gun, one of those small terrible
weapons which shoot a projectile barely larger than the graphite of a
lead pencil, but loaded with a fraction of a milligram of hexynitrate.
Two hundred charges would feed automatically into the bore as the
trigger was pressed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn gazed desperately about for weapons. There was nothing in sight.
To gain the outside world he had to pass before the doorway through
which the bullets had come.... And suddenly Thorn seized the
code-writer and the device which transmitted that code as a series of
unearthly noises which the world was taking for Martian speech. He
swung the two machines before the door in a temporary barrier.
Whatever else Kreynborg might be willing to destroy, he would not
shoot into them!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn leaped madly past the door as Kreynborg roared with rage again.
He paused only to hurl a chair at the two essential machines, and as
they dented and toppled, he fled through the door and away.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">S</span>ylva peered anxiously at him from behind a huge boulder. He raced
toward her, expecting every second to hear the spitting of Kreynborg's
pocket-gun. With the continuous-fire stud down, the little gun would
shoot itself empty in forty-five seconds, during which time Kreynborg
could play it upon him like a hose that spouted death. But Thorn had
done the hundred yards in eleven seconds, years before. He bettered
his record now. The first of the little green flashes came when he was
no more than ten yards from the boulder which sheltered Sylva. The
tiny pellet had missed him by inches. Three more, and he was safe from
pursuit.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"But we've got to get away!" he panted. "He can shoot gas here and get
us again! He can cover four hundred yards with gas, and more than that
with guns."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">They fled down a tiny water-course, midget figures in an infinity of
earth and sky, scurrying frenziedly from a red slug-like thing that
lay askew in a mountain valley. Far away and high above hung the
war-planes of the United Nations. Big ones and little ones, hovering
in hundreds about the outside of the dome of force they could neither
penetrate nor understand.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">A quarter of a mile. Half a mile. There was no sign from Kreynborg or
the rocket-ship. Thorn panted.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"He can't reach us with gas, now, and it looks like he doesn't dare
use a gun. They'd know he wasn't a Martian. At night he'll use that
helicopter, though. If we can only make those ships see us...."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>hey toiled on. The sun was already slanting down toward the western
sky. At four—by the sun—Thorn could point to a huge air-dreadnaught
hanging by lazily revolving gyros barely two miles away. He waved
wildly, frantically, but the big ship drifted on, unseeing. The
Fighting Force was no longer looking for Thorn and Sylva. They had
been carried into the rocket-ship fourteen hours and more before.
Sylva's screaming had been broadcast with the weird hoots and
whistles the United Nations believed to be the language of
inter-planetary invaders. The United Nations believed them dead. Now a
watch was being kept on the rocket-ship, to be sure, but it was
becoming a matter-of-fact sort of vigilance, pending the arrival of
the rest of the Fighting Force and the cracking of the dome of force
by the scientists who worked on it night and day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">On level ground, Thorn and Sylva would have reached the edge of the
dome in an hour. Here they had to climb up steep hillsides and down
precipitous slopes. Four times they halted to make frantic efforts to
attract the attention of some nearby ship.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">It was six when they came upon the rim. There was no indication of its
existence save that three hundred yards from them boughs waved and
leaves quivered in a breeze. Inside the dome the air was utterly
still.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"There it is!" panted Thorn.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Wearied and worn out as they were, they hurried forward, and abruptly
there was something which impeded their movements. They could reach
their hands into the impalpable barrier. For one foot, two, or even
three. But an intolerable pressure thrust them back. Thorn seized a
sapling and ran at the barrier as if with a spear. It went five feet
into the invisible resistance and stopped, shot back out as if flung
back by a jet of compressed air.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"He told the truth," groaned Thorn. "We can't get out!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">L</span>ong shadows were already reaching out from the mountains. Darkness
began to creep upward among the valleys. Far, far away a compact dark
cloud appeared, a combat-squadron. It swept toward the dome and
dissociated into a myriad specks which were aircraft. The fliers
already swirling about the invisible dome drew aside to leave a
quadrant clear, and Combat-Squadron Seven merged with the rest, making
the pattern of dancing specks markedly denser.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"With a fire," said Thorn desperately, "they'll come! Of course! But
Kreynborg took my lighter!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Sylva said hopefully:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Don't you know some way? Rubbing sticks together?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"I don't," admitted Thorn grimly, "but I've got to try to invent one.
While I'm at it, you watch for fliers."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He searched for dry wood. He rubbed sticks together. They grew warm,
but not enough to smoke, much less to catch. He muttered, "A drill,
that's the idea. All the friction in one spot." He tugged at the ring
under his lapel and the parachute fastened into his uniform collar
shot out in a billowing mass of gossamer silk, flung out by the
powerful elastics designed to make its opening certain. Savagely, he
tore at the shrouds and had a stout cord. He made a drill and revolved
it as fast as he could with the cord....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">A second dark cloud swept forward in the gathering dusk and merged
into the mass of fliers about the dome. Five minutes later, a third.
Dense as the air-traffic was, riding-lights were necessary. They began
to appear in the deepening twilight. It seemed as if all the sky were
alight with fireflies, whirling and swirling and fluttering here and
there. But then the fire-drill began to emit a tiny wisp of smoke.
Thorn worked furiously. Then a tiny flickering flame appeared, which
he nursed with a desperate solicitude. Then a larger flame. Then a
roaring blaze! It could not be missed! A fire within the dome could
not fail to be noted and examined instantly!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">A</span> searchlight beam fell upon them, illuminating him in a pitiless
glare. Thorn waved his arms frantically. He had nothing with which to
signal save his body. He flung his arms wide, and up, and wide again,
in an improvised adaption of the telegraphic alphabet to
gesticulation. He sent the watch call over and over again....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">A little cloud of riding-lights swept toward the dome from an infinite
distance away. Darkness was falling so swiftly that they were still
merely specks of light as they swept up to and seemed to melt into the
swirling, swooping mass of fliers about the dome....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Cold sweat was standing out on Thorn's face, despite the violence of
his exertions. He was even praying a little.... And suddenly the
searchlight beam flickered a welcome answer:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"W-e u-n-d-e-r-s-t-a-n-d. R-e-p-o-r-t."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn flung his arms about madly, sending:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"G-e-t a-w-a-y q-u-i-c-k. C-o-m P-u-b-s h-e-r-e. W-i-l-l m-a-k-e
o-t-h-e-r d-o-m-e o-u-t-s-i-d-e t-o t-r-a-p y-o-u."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The searchlight beam upon him flickered an acknowledgment. He knew
what was happening after that. The G.C. phones would flash the warning
to every ship, and every ship would dash madly for safety.... A
sudden, concerted quiver seemed to go over the whirling maze of lights
aloft. A swift, simultaneous movement of every ship in flight. Thorn
breathed an agonized prayer....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">There was a flash of blue light. For one fractional part of a second
the stars and skies were blotted out. There was a dome of flame above
him and all about the world, of bright blue flame which instantly
was—and instantly was not!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Then there was a ghastly blast of green. Hexynitrate going off. In
this glare were silhouetted a myriad motes in flight. But there was no
noise. A second flare.... And then Thorn Hard, groaning, saw flash
after flash after flash of green. Monster explosions. Colossal
explosions. Terrific detonations which were utterly soundless, as the
ships of the Fighting Force, in flight from the menace of which Thorn
had warned them, crashed into an invisible barrier and exploded
without cracking it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">I</span>t was August 24th, 2037. For three days, now, seven of the eight
great combat-squadrons of the United Nations Fighting Forces had been
prisoners inside a monstrous transparent dome of force. There was a
financial panic of unprecedented proportions in the great financial
districts of New York and London and Paris. Martial law was in force
in Chicago, in Prague, in Madrid, and in Buenos Aires. The Com-Pubs
were preparing an ultimatum to be delivered to the government of the
United Nations. Thorn and Sylva were hunted fugitives within the inner
dome of force, which protected the red rocket-ship from the seven
combat squadrons it had imprisoned. Newspaper vendor-units were
shrieking, "Air Fleet Still Trapped!" and a prominent American
politician was promising his constituents that if a foreign nation
dared invade the sacred territories of the United Nations, a million
embattled private planes would take the air. And he seemed not even
trying to be humorous! Scientists were wringing their hands in utter
helplessness before the incredible resistance of the dome. It had been
determined that the dome was a force-field which caused particles
charged with positive electricity to attempt to move in a right-hand
direction about the source of the field, and particles charged with
negative electricity to attempt to move in a left-hand direction. The
result was that any effort to thrust an external object into the field
of force was an attempt to tear the negatively charged electrons of
every atom of that substance, free from the positively charged protons
of nuclei. An object could only be passed through the field of force
if it ceased to exist as matter—which was not an especially helpful
discovery. And—Thorn Hard and Sylva were still hunted fugitives
inside the inner dome.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>he sun was an hour high when the helicopter appeared to hunt for them
by day. After the first time they had never dared light a fire,
because Kreynborg in the helicopter searched the hills for a glow of
light. But this day he came searching for them by day. Thorn had
speared a fish for Sylva with a stick he had sharpened by rubbing it
on a crumbling rock. He was working discouragedly on a little
contrivance made out of a forked stick and the elastic from his
parachute-pack. He was haggard and worn and desperate. Sylva was
beginning to look like a hunted wild thing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Two hundred yards from them the most formidable fighting force the
world had ever seen littered the earth with gossamer-seeming cellate
wings and streamlined bodies at all angles to each other. And it was
completely useless. The least of the weapons of the air-fleet would
have been a godsend to Thorn and Sylva. To have had one ship, even the
smallest, where they were would have been a godsend to the fleet. But
two hundred yards, with the dome of force between, made the fleet just
exactly as much protection for Sylva as if it had been a million miles
away.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The droning hum of the helicopter came across the broken ground. Now
louder, now momentarily muted, its moments of loudness grew steadily
more strong. It was coming nearer. Thorn gripped his spear in an
instinctive, utterly futile gesture of defense. Sylva touched his
hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"We'd better hide."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">They hid. Thick brush concealed them utterly. The helicopter went
slowly overhead, and they saw Kreynborg gazing down at the earth below
him. Nearly overhead he paused. And suddenly Thorn groaned under his
breath.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"It's the flagship!" he whispered hoarsely to Sylva. "Oh, what fools
we were! The flagship! He knows the General would have brought it to
earth opposite us, to question us!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>he flagship was nearly opposite. To find the flagship was more or
less to find where Thorn and Sylva hid. But they had not realized it
until now.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The speaker in the helicopter boomed above their heads.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Ah, my friends! I think you hear me. Answer me. I haff an offer to
make."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Shivering, Sylva pressed close to Thorn.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Der Com-Pub fleet is on der way," said Kreynborg, chuckling.
"Sefen-eights of der United Nations fleet is just outside. You haff
observed it. In six hours der Com-Pub fleet begins der conquest of der
country and der execution of persons most antagonistic to our regime.
But I haff still weary weeks of keeping der air fleet prisoner, until
its personnel iss too weak from starfation to offer resistance to our
soldiers. So I make der offer. Come and while away der weary hours for
me, and I except you both from der executions I shall findt it
necessary to decree. Refuse, and I get you anyhow, and you will
regret your refusal fery much."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn's teeth ground together. Sylva pressed close to him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Don't let him get me, Thorn," she panted hysterically. "Don't let him
get me...."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>he droning, monotonous hum of the helicopter over their heads
continued. The little flying-machine was motionless. The air was
still. There was no other sound in the world.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Silence, save for the droning hum of the helicopter. Then something
dropped. It went off with an inadequate sort of an explosion and a
cloud of misty white vapor reared upward on a hillside and began to
settle slowly, spreading out.... The helicopter moved and other things
dropped, making a pattern....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"The air's still," said Thorn quite grimly. "That stuff seems to be
heavier than air. It's flowing downhill, toward the dome-wall. It will
be here in five minutes. We've got to move."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Sylva seemed to be stricken with terror. He helped her to her feet.
They began to move toward higher ground. They moved with infinite
caution. In the utter silence of this inner dome, even the rustling of
a leaf might betray them.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">It was the presence of the air fleet within clear view that made the
thing so horrible. The defenders of a nation were watching the enemy
of a nation, and they were helpless to offer battle. The helicopter
hummed and droned, and Kreynborg grinned and searched the earth below
him for a sign of the man and girl who had been the only danger to his
plan and now were unarmed fugitives. And there were four
air-dreadnaughts in plain sight and five thousand men watching, and
Kreynborg hunted, for sport, a comrade of the five thousand men and a
woman every one of them would have risked or sacrificed his life to
protect.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He seemed certain that they were below him. Presently he dropped
another gas-bomb, and another. And then Sylva stumbled and caught at
something, and there was a crashing sound as a sapling wavered in her
grasp.... And Thorn picked her up and fled madly. But billowing white
vapor spouted upward before him. He dodged it, and the helicopter was
just overhead and more smoke spouted, and more, and more.... They were
hemmed in, and Sylva clung close to Thorn and sobbed....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">F</span>ive thousand men, in a thousand grounded aircraft, shouted curses
that made no sound. They waved weapons that were utterly futile. They
were as impotent as so many ghosts. Their voices made not even the
half-heard whisper one may attribute to a phantom.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The fog-vapor closed over Thorn and Sylva as Kreynborg grinned
mockingly at the raging men without the dome of force. He swept the
helicopter to a position above the last view of Thorn and Sylva, and
the downward-beating screws swept away the foggy gas. Thorn and Sylva
lay motionless, though Thorn had instinctively placed himself in a
position of defense above her.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Fighting Force of the United Nations watched, raging, while
Kreynborg descended deliberately into the area the helicopter-screws
kept clear. While he searched Thorn's pockets reflectively and found
nothing more deadly than small pebbles which might strike sparks, and
a small forked stick. While he grinned mockingly at the raging armed
men and made triumphant gesticulations before carrying Sylva's limp
figure to the helicopter. While the little ship rose and swept away
toward the rocket-plane.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">It descended and was lost to view. Thorn lay motionless on the earth.
Seven-eighths of the fighting force of the United Nations was
imprisoned within the space between two domes of force no matter could
penetrate. A ring two miles across and ten miles in outer diameter
held the whole fleet of the United Nations paralyzed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">There was sheer panic through the Americas and Europe and the few
outlying possessions of the United Nations.... And it was at this
time, with a great fleet already half-way across the Pacific, that the
Com-Pubs declared war in a fine gesture of ironic politeness. It was
within half an hour of this time that the Seventh Combat Squadron—the
only one left unimprisoned—dived down from fifty thousand feet into
the middle of the Com-Pub fleet and went out of existence in twenty
minutes of such carnage as is still stuff for epics.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Seventh Squadron died, but with it died not less than three times
as many of the foe. And then the Com-Pub fleet came on. Most of the
original force remained; surely enough to devastate an undefended
nation, to shatter its cities and butcher its people; to slaughter its
men and enslave its women and leave a shambles and smoking ash-heaps
where the very backbone of resistance to the red flag had been.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">I</span>t was twenty minutes before Thorn Hard stirred. His lungs seemed on
fire. His limbs seemed lead. His head reeled and rocked. He staggered
to his feet and stood there swaying dully. A vivid light, brighter
than the sunshine, played upon him from the flagship of the fleet
which now was helpless to defend its nation. Thorn's befogged brain
stirred dazedly as the message came.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Com-Pub fleet on way. Seventh Combat-Squadron wiped out. Nation
defenseless. You are only hope. For God's sake try something.
Anything."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn roused himself by a terrific effort. He managed to ask a
question by exhausted gestures in the Watch visual alphabet.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Kreynborg took her to rocket-ship," came the answer. "She recovered
consciousness before being carried inside."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">And Thorn, reeling on his feet and unarmed and alone, turned and went
staggering up a hillside toward the rocket-ship's position. He could
only expect to be killed. He could not even hope for anything more
than to ensure that Sylva, also, die mercifully. Behind him he left an
unarmed nation awaiting devastation, with a mighty air fleet speeding
toward it at six hundred miles an hour.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">As he went, though, some strength came to him. The fury of his toil
forced him to breathe deeply, cleansing his lungs of the stupefying
gas which, because it was visible as a vapor, had been carried in the
rocket-ship. A visible gas was, of course, more consistent with the
early pretense that the rocket-ship bore invaders from another planet.
And Thorn became drenched with sweat, which aided in the excretion of
the poisonous stuff. His brain cleared, and he recognized despair and
discounted it and began to plan grimly to make the most of an
infinitesimal chance. The chance was simply that Kreynborg had
ransacked his pockets and ignored a little forked stick.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">S</span>crambling up a steep hillside with his face hardened into granite,
Thorn drew that from his pocket again. Crossing a hill-top, he
stripped off his coat.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He traveled at the highest speed he could maintain, though it seemed
painfully deliberate. An hour after he had started, he was picking up
small round pebbles wherever he saw them in his path. By the time the
tall, bulbous tower was in sight he had picked up probably sixty such
pebbles, but no more than ten of them remained in his pockets. They,
though, were smooth and round and even, perhaps an inch in diameter,
and all very nearly the same size. And he carried a club in his hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He went down the last slope openly. The television lenses on the tower
would have picked him out in any case, if Kreynborg had repaired the
screen. He went boldly up to the rocket-ship.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Kreynborg!" he called. "Kreynborg!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He felt himself being surveyed. A door came open. Kreynborg stood
chuckling at him with a pocket-gun in his hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Ha! Just in time, my friend! I haff been fery busy. Der Com-Pub fleet
is just due to pass in refiew abofe der welcoming United Nations
combat-squadrons. I haff been gifing them last-minute information and
assurance that der domes of force are solid and can hold forefer. I
haff a few minutes to spare, which I had intended to defote to der
fair Sylva. But—what do you wish?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"I'm offering you a bribe," said Thorn, his face a mask. "A billion
dollars and immunity to cut off the outer dome of force."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Kreynborg grinned at him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"It is too late. Besides being a traitor, I would be assassinated
instantly. Also, I shall be Commissar for North America anyhow."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Two billion," said Thorn without expression.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"No," said Kreynborg amusedly. "Throw away der club. I shall amuse
myself with you, Thorn Hardt. You shall watch der progress of romance
between me and Sylva. Throw away der club!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The pocket-gun came up. Thorn threw away the club.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"What do you want, if two billion's not enough?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Amusement," said Kreynborg jovially. "I shall be bored in this inner
dome, waiting for der air fleet to starfe. I wish amusement. And I
shall get it. Come inside!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">H</span>e backed away from the door, his gun trained on Thorn. And Thorn saw
that the continuous-fire stud was down. He walked composedly into the
red room in which he had once awakened. Sylva gave a little choked cry
at sight of him. She was standing, desperately defiant, on the other
side of the induction-screen area on the floor. There was a scorched
place on the floor where Thorn had shorted that screen and the bar of
metal had grown red-hot. Kreynborg threw the switch and motioned Thorn
to her.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"I do not bother to search you for weapons," he said dryly. "I did it
so short a time ago. And you had only a club...."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn walked stiffly beside Sylva. She put out a shaking hand and
touched him. Kreynborg threw the switch back again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Der screen is on," he chuckled. "Console each other, children. I am
glad you came, Thorn Hardt. We watch der grand refiew of der Com-Pub
fleet. Then I turn a little infention of mine upon you. It is a
heat-ray of fery limited range. It will be my method of wooing der
fair Sylva. When she sees you in torment, she kisses me sweetly for
der prifilege of stopping der heat-ray. I count upon you, my friend,
to plead with her to grant me der most extrafagant of concessions,
when der heat-ray is searing der flesh from your bones. I feel that
she is soft-hearted enough to oblige you. Yes?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He touched a button and the repaired television-screen lighted up.
All the dome of mountains and sky was visible in it. There were
dancing motes in sight, which were aircraft.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"I haff remofed all metal-work from that side of der room," added
Kreynborg comfortably, "so I can dare to turn my back. You cannot
short der induction-screen again. That was clefer. But you face a
scientist, Thorn Hardt. You haff lost."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">A sudden surge of flying craft appeared on the television screen. The
grounded fleet of the United Nations was taking to the air again. In
the narrow, two-mile strip between the two domes of force it swirled
up and up.... Kreynborg frowned.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Now, what is der idea of that?" he demanded. He moved closer to the
screen. The pocket-gun was left behind, five feet from his
finger-tips. "Thorn Hardt, you will explain it!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"They hope," said Thorn grimly, "your fleet can make gaps in the dome
to shoot through. If so, they'll go out through those gaps and fight."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Foolish!" said Kreynborg blandly. "Der only weapon we haff to use is
der normal metabolism of der human system. Hunger!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">T</span>horn reached into his pocket. Kreynborg was regarding the screen
absorbedly. Through the haze of flying dots which was the United
Nations fleet, a darkening spot to westward became visible. It drew
nearer and grew larger. It was dense. It was huge. It was deadly. It
was the Com-Pub battle-fleet, nearly equal to the imprisoned ships in
number. It swept up to view its helpless enemy. It came close, so
every man could see their only possible antagonists rendered impotent.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Such a maneuver was really necessary, when you think of it. The
Com-Pub fleet had encountered one combat-squadron of the United
Nations fleet, and that one squadron, dying, had carried down three
times its number of enemies. It was necessary to show the Com-Pub
personnel the rest of their enemies imprisoned, in order to hearten
them for the butchery of civilians before them.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Kreynborg guffawed as the Com-Pub fleet made its mocking circuit of
the invisible dome. And Thorn raised his head.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Kreynborg!" he said grimly. "Look!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">There was something in his tone which made Kreynborg turn. And Thorn
held a little forked stick in his hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Turn off the induction-screen, or I kill you!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Kreynborg looked at him and chuckled.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"It is bluff, my friend," he said dryly. "I haff seen many weapons. I
am a scientist! You play der game of poker. You try a bluff! But I
answer you with der heat-ray!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He moved his great bulk, and Thorn released his left hand. There was a
sudden crack on Kreynborg's side of the room. A pebble a little over
an inch in diameter fell to the floor. Kreynborg wavered, and toppled
and fell. Three times more, his face merciless, Thorn drew back his
arm, and three times Kreynborg's head jerked slightly. Then Thorn
faced the panel on which the induction-screen switch was placed.
Several times he thrust his hand through the screen and abruptly drew
it back with pain, in an attempt to throw the switch. At last he was
successful, and now he walked calmly across the room and bent over the
motionless Kreynborg.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Skull fractured," he said grimly. "All right, Sylva."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="f1">H</span>e went through the narrow doorway beyond, picking up the pocket-gun
as he went. There was a noise of whining machinery. Now Thorn was
emptying pellets into the mechanism that controlled the dome of force.
There was a crashing of glass. It stopped. There were blows and
thumpings. That noise stopped too.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thorn came back, his eyes glowing. He flung open the outer door of the
rocket-ship, and Sylva went to him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">He pointed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">
Far away, the Fighting Force of the United Nations was swirling
upward. Like smoke from a campfire or winged ants from a tree-stump,
they went up in a colossal, twisting spiral. Beyond the domes and
above them. The domes existed no longer. Up and up, and up.... And
then they swooped down upon the suddenly fleeing enemy. Vengefully,
savagely, with all the fury of men avenging not only what they have
suffered, but also what they have feared, the combat-squadrons of the
United Nations fell upon the invaders. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> Green hexynitrate explosions
lighted up the sky. Ear-cracking detonations reverberated among the
mountains. There was battle there, and death and carnage and utter
destruction. The roar of combat filled the universe.</span><span style="background-color: #cc0000;"><b>Astounding Stories March 1933.</b></span><br />
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-72632299405631351042015-03-27T15:22:00.001-07:002015-03-27T15:23:26.992-07:00MADEIRA MARX IN MARCHA EN MARÇO 2015 ....29 DIAS DE SOL QUE DÃO PIRES DE CARACÓIS E PRAIAS MAS NÃO DÃO VOTOS O VOTO CONSERVADOR CONSERVA AS CLIENTELAS E OS PAJÉS <span style="font-size: x-large;">NESTE DOMENICUS MADEIRA EN MARCHA FORÇADA SEMI-ENFORCADA </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Sonntag, MARX OR MARCH TANTO FAZ SUSAN .... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">A NOITADA DAS LARANJAS LOUCAS</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NOITES DE FACAS LONGAS JÁ ERAM</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">OS DO PSD COMEÇAM A RAPAR O FUNDO AOS TACHOS</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">OS LARANJAS CONTAM TER ALGO PARA COMER LÁ PARA JULHO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">MAS BÃO TER DE SE CONTENTAR COM PEPINOS</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">AS MOSCAS DESCEM EM VOO PICADO SOBRE O CADÁVER DA NOÇÃO DE NAÇÃO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">OUTRAS TENTAM LEVANTAR VOO COM O SAQUE </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">MAS ESTÃO MUITO ATURDIDAS E CARREGADAS</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">É O FADO DO PHODER QUE É FODIDO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">É O EXÍLIO DOURADO DAS ROSAS APRISIONADAS EM NARRATIVAS NATIVAS </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">LIVRES DUS DUDAS SIN DUDA </span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/iVlr0B3oLNM" width="480"></iframe>tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-88910876550576072952015-03-27T15:15:00.000-07:002015-03-27T15:15:03.144-07:00A ELEVADA SOLUBILIDADE DO CO2 NA ÁGUA QUE COZE OS FRANGOS PODE ATINGIR 40 A 50 CM CÚBICOS PER LITRO OU SEJA MAIS DE 120 VEZES A CONCENTRAÇÃO DA ATMOSFERA 0,039999 OU 0,0444% TANTO FAZ ASSIM AS GRANDES MASSAS DE ÁGUA COMEÇARÃO A DESEMPENHAR O PAPEL DE RESERVATÓRIOS DE CO2 REGULANDO ESTE GÁS NA ATMOSFERA POIS NA ÁGUA A MAIOR PARTE ESTÁ IONIZADO CO3- HCO3 MENOS DE 1% ESTÁ SOBRE A FORMA LIVRE ASSIM EM PARTE O EFEITO DE ESTUFA TEM SIDO ATENUADO APESAR DOS ELEVADOS FLUXOS DE METANO NA DÉCADA DE 90 E NAS SEGUINTES O CRESCIMENTO DA POPULAÇÃO ASIÁTICA E AFRICANA ....LEVARÃO AO COLAPSO DAS FRANJAS LIMÍTROFES DA GRANDE TRANSGRESSÃO DO SÉCULO XXI....TRANSGRESSÃO GEOLÓGICA PURAMENTE POR EFEITO ANTROPOGÉNICO UMA GRANDE REALIZAÇÃO HUMANA METE RATBURGUER NISSO <span style="font-size: x-large;">O LIMITE DE ROCHE É O PRINCIPAL</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">OBSTÁCULO ÀS COLÓNIAS ESPACIAIS </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">UM SATÉLITE GIGANTE ESTILO </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">2001 ODISSEIA NO ESPAÇO </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">AO APROXIMAR-SE DO PRIMÁRIO </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">DENTRO DE UMA DISTÂNCIA CRÍTICA</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">NECESSÁRIA A ABASTECIMENTO </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">E MANUTENÇÃO REGULAR</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">SERIA FACILMENTE FRAGMENTADO</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">PELAS FORÇAS DE MARÉ </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">SENDO A DISTÂNCIA CRÍTICA</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">2,44 O RAIO DO PRIMÁRIO</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">E SENDO O RAIO TERRESTRE DE 6 MILHÕES E PICOS DE METROS .... </span>tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-6298795958633487222014-12-01T13:21:00.000-08:002014-12-01T13:22:00.139-08:00JUIZO VERDADEIRO SOBRE A CARTA CONTRA OS MEDICOS, CIRURGIOENS, E BOTICARIOS Meu amigo, e Senhor, satisfazendo á sua recomendaçaõ de lhe enviar os papeis coriosos, que sahirem nesta Cidade mais bem compostos, e recebidos; remetto a v. m. esse que a semana passada se publicou com o titulo de Sustos da Vida nos Perigos da Cura, taõ agradavel aos curiosos, como aos medicos odiozo. E ainda que sei, que v. m. naõ he muito inclinado a obras satyricas, com tudo me parece, lhe naõ desagradará, pelo que tem de discreta. Eu desejara que v. m. agora se achasse nesta Cidade para ouvir os pregoens dos cegos; pois naõ contentes com o primeiro titulo, para dar mais clara noticia da obra, apregoaõ; Carta contra os Medicos, Cirurgioens, e Boticarios (verdade he, que naõ lhe levantaõ nenhum testemunho){4} e por fazer pirraça aos mesmos servindose dos olhos dos moços, pois elles naõ pódem ser testemunhas de vista, ás portas de Boticarios, e na passagem dos Medicos, e Cirurgioens levantàõ com mais forte, e duplicada vós o pregaõ da sua fazenda, alguns sugeitos tenho ouvido louvar muito este papel de discreto, e util á republica, para que se desenganem com estes homicidas disfarçados. Eu porèm com juizo indiferente, espero pelo seu parecer, para que instruindo-me como costuma, eu possa julgar com acerto. Deos guarde a v. m. &c.{5} RESPOSTA. Meu amigo, recebi a sua carta sempre estimavel, como sua e juntamente a obra, que me remette, e lhe recomendo agora me mande todos os papeis, que nesta Cidade se publicarem, porque quando nem todos sirvaõ para instruçaõ, seraõ ao menos para divertimento do animo, e antidoto da ociozidade. He já antigo em V. m. querer ouvir o meu parecer nestas materias literarias, em que eu naõ tenho voto, julgando que o excederei no bom gosto, quanto o excedo nos annos. Engana-se V. m. pois na sua pouca idade tem aprendido mais estudo, do que eu vivendo. Se comtudo dezeja ouvir-me lhe digo: que faço muito diverso conceito desta obra, do que esses curiosos fazem. Eu confeço, que quando acabei de a ler me lembrou o novo cazo da consciencia, excogitado pela jocosa agudeza do Doutissimo P. Feyjó: pelo qual ficaõ obrigados restituir aos compradores o dinheiro aquelles escriptores, que com titulos especiozos atrahem os curiozos á compra das obras{6} inuteis. Nesta obrigaçaõ julguei eu incurso ao autor da carta pois quem haverá, que ouvindo o pompozo titulo de Surtos da Vida nos Perigos da cura, naõ espere alguma obra erudíta, e composiçaõ discreta? Pois gaste o seu dinheiro, compre, e leia; e nada mais achará, que huma carta extensissima, ou satyra prolongada, com alguns contos de velhas, que por vulgares já naõ recreaõ ao leitor: tudo afim de injuriar os nobres professores da medicina. Por isso os cégos, vendo isto, trocáraõ o titulo proposto no frontespicio em o da Carta contra os Medicos, Cirurgioens, e Boticarios. E se me consultassem, ainda eu lhe ensinaria outro pregaõ mais proprio, e mais bonito. Ora já que falamos nisto; eu entendo, que naõ he precizo ver a obra mas basta ouvir os cegos, para formar della o devido conceito. Tantas legoas distante me parece, que me está horrorizando os ouvidos o escandaloso ecco deste pregaõ. E que homem de juizo haverá, a quem naõ escandalize esta voz pelas ruas publicas. No capitulo 38 de Ecclesiastico nos manda Deos honrar muito aos Medicos, dizendo; que a mesma ciencia,{7} que professaõ, os havia de exaltar, e fazer recomendaveis na presença dos grandes. A ley os enobrece, Deos os recomenda, e quem diséra, que se haviaõ de ver publicamente offendidos, e pela gente vulgar com vozes ultrajados! Tudo he effeito de huma paixaõ cega. Nem diga algum ignorante apaixonado, que esta satyra só se dirigia a os Medicos imperítos, pois naõ deve a sua imperiencia ser cauza de huma descomposiçaõ publica; a nimguem se deve afrontar: e desta irrisaõ universal toma o povo occasiaõ para escarnecer confusamente de todos pois nem sabe, nem he posivel distinguir o bom do máo. Porventura será motivo bastante haver alguns máos Theologos, Filosofos, ou Juristas para que se publique huma invectiva contra os Juristas, Theologos, e Filosofos; com que sejaõ objecto da illuzaõ do vulgo ignorante, e fabula do povo, que por ter lido alguns erros dos professores destas ciencias, pois ninguem delles se izenta (só se for o A. da carta) levante, que todos saõ huns nescios, que nada sabem, que naõ ha, que fiar nos seus pareceres? Quem tal disera?{8} Por isso eu digo, que esta obra, e seu pregaõ só hade ser agradavel ao vulgo nescio, mas odioza aos homens de juizo. E entendo, que os offendidos, ainda que sentidos, e envergonhados, desprezaraõ nos gritos dos cegos os clamores do A. da carta como nos reprezenta Alciato a Lua continuando a sua carreira, e desprezando os latidos daquelle caõ importuno: que só o desprezo he o castigo de similhantes atrevimentos. Porém, se só por fóra he taõ escadalozo este papel, por dentro ainda he muito mais, a quem com attençaõ o ler (se acazo alguem o pode ler com attençaõ) pela impaciencia, que causa, naõ só a futilidade das suas razoens, e liberdade da invectiva; mas tambem a prolixidade da sua locuçaõ. Eu certamente acho muito admiravel o engenho, com que encheo o seu A. mais de 2. folhas de papel, sem dizer huma razaõ cabal, e convincente ao seu proposito. Louve muito embóra Seneca por arteficio grande incluir o muito em pouco, seja arteficioso engenho rezumir em breves periodos copiosas expreçoens; que eu naõ sei, se he{9} mais encher o dilatado espaço de 17 paginas sem alguma experçaõ judicioza: pois ainda que ali se acham muitas couzas notaveis, todos saõ de má nota. Leia V. m. na primeira pagina, e logo achara falando da Medicina estas palavras Consegueriamos huma melhor utilidade sem o suffragio deste chamado bem, do que com a entruducçaõ deste ingano! Pondere bem o seu discurso estas palavras, e verá que daqui se colhe, que na opiniaõ do A. da carta: a Medicia naõ deve ser chamada bem, antes mal; que, he inutil, antes pernicioza no mundo que; que melhor se passaria sem ella, e que foi hum engano, que se introduzio na terra, e conseguintemente nos enganou, quem a introduzio. Elle bem claro o diz. Ora leia agora o cap. já alegado do Eccles. e achará hum panegyrico da Medicina, e huma recomendaçaõ dos seus professores. Mas aqui ficara abismado, quem depois de ver que o A. chama introduçaõ de hum engano a Medicina achaõ que o seu introductor foi Deos, em quem a Fé ensina naõ pode haver engano. Na opiniaõ dos Hebreos o primeiro que exercitou esta ciencia, foi o Anjo S. Rafael,{10} quando ensinou a Tobias, que extrahise a o peixe o coraçaõ, fel e figado para composiçaõ do remedio: mostrando-nos assim o mesmo Deos quanto tem de divina esta ciencia; pois do Ceo mandou quem a exercitasse. Naõ aparte V. m. a memoria das palavras deste A. disfarçado, nem os olhos da Scriptura; e verá como se oppoêm a este cap. Nelle nos manda Deos honrar ao Medico, e acrescenta que delle temos necessidade que se naõ aparte de nós o Medico; porque as suas operaçoens saõ neçessarias; que Deos o introduzio, que lhe demos nós logar; que o Altissimo creou os medicamentos, e delle se derivou, e nasceo a Medicina, e que o varaõ prudente, e homem de juizo a naõ hade aborrecer. Daqui vem a resposta para o que diz o A. que o mundo tem concebido hum odio entranhavel, e desprezo universal a esta arte: pois só podera concebello algum louco. Elle he que quer persuadir a todos, que o concebaõ; pois lhe quer introduzir, que he huma arte enganosa, hum louvavel engano, que melhor utilidade se consegueria sem o suffragio deste chamado bem; que será mil{11} vezes melhor viver com alguma queixa, do que entregarse ao Medico, para que o cure; que será muito melhor viver com o discomodo de huma saude arruinada, e outras couzas deste genero, que tudo saõ palavras suas. Mas só algum rude, material se hade capacitar destas razoens ditas, e naõ provadas; porque naõ repara, que o mesmo A. se está contradizendo a si. Em huma parte diz, que a Medicina he necessaria; em outra naõ só diz, que he escuzada, mas nociva: em huma parte attribue a Medicina os enganos; em outra affirma que tem preceitos certos. Eu supponho, que elle cuida que enganaremse algumas vezes os Medicos he o mesmo, que ser a Medicina enganosa: pois isso sabe qualquer menino, que principia a estudar logica, que os erros dos professores naõ tiraõ a infalibilidade de qualquer ciencia. Mas naõ falemos em encoherencias; que disso está a carta chea. Até reprova a experiencia, que se tira do exercicio de curar sem advertir, que a ella deve a Medicina a maior parte dos seos progressos. Bem o veremos, se olharmos para os seos principios. Costumavaõ os homens nos antigos seculos, quando saravaõ de alguma{12} enfermidade escrever os remedios; com que se curaraõ; cuja noticia se guardava nos tempolos. Expunhaõ-se no Egypto, e Babylonia, e em outras naçoens os enfermos nas praças publicas; e os passageiros, se algum remedio sabiaõ, lho ensinavaõ: e se com elle sarava, se punha por escripto no templo guardado, como em archivo. Destas memorias se aproveitou Hipocrates, natural da ilha Coo, que foi o primeiro, que coordinou os perceitos da Medecina, extrahindo do templo de Diana muitos destes escriptos, de que se utilizou, e juntando com a experimental a especulativa fez admiraveis curas, que lhe immortalizaraõ o nome. A experiencia, e observaçaõ ainda dos animaes, ensinou aos homens cousas utilissimas. Assim aprenderaõ dos leoens a virtude da quina, da Andorinha a da celidonia, do Hippotanco a sangria, o cristal da ave Ibis, e outros muitos remedios de suma utilidade. A experiencia, dizem os Filosofos, gerou a arte; e Cornelio Celso affirma, que a Medicina empirica se deve juntar com a racional. Ja me esquecia dar a razaõ, porque asima eu dice, que este escriptor mascarado nada convencia com as suas razoens. Muitos{13} se haviaõ de admirar, se tal me ouvisem; quando vem tantas paginas escriptas, tantos cazos, e tantas noticias para este fim amontoadas. Pois na minha opiniaõ isso he a couza mais estravagante, que se pode dar. Ninguem nega, que haja hum, ou outro Medico indigno que hum, ou outro errasse a cura ao doente, como elle prova com os seos contos de algebeira; porém tambem se tem feito curas taõ admiraveis, que parecem exceder a força do discurso humano. Mas essas, ou se ignoraõ pelo A. ou por malevolencia se occultaõ. Elle quer, que o Medico seja pura intelligencia, que nunca erre: isso naõ pode ser; porque quando a enfermidade he mortal, ha de enganarse o Medico, ou naõ hade aproveitar a cura: elle mesmo o concede, sempre houve, e hade haver molestias incuraveis; já dice Ouvidio, que nem sempre estava na maõ do Medico o remedio do enfermo; que muitas vezes vence o poder da doença as forças da arte: mas he certo, que se todos morrem por ley insespensavel da mortalidade, muitos conservaõ a vida, e restauraõ a saude por beneficio especial da Medicina. Frustraõ-se necessariamente as diligencias, nas doenças incuraveis e se erraõ{14} muitas vezes os Medicos nas curaveis, ou indifferentes, nem sempre he facil o acerto em huma materia taõ incerta, e taõ escura. Por isso a antiguidade nos reprezentou a Medicina em figura de mulher idoza com hum bordaõ nodoso em a maõ? significando na ancianidade a experiencia, que para ella se necessita, e no bordaõ nodoso a difficuldade, que nella se experimenta. Assim que naõ se deve confusamente fazer huma indiscreta illuzaõ, e univeral zombaria dos Medicos; porque hum, ou outro errou porem a malevolencia do A. naõ quer mais, que criminallos, e descompollos, seja como for. Naõ póde chegar a mais o seu odio, do que a fazer-lhes calumnias, e crimes de huma galantaria, que disse hum sugeito. Fallo naquelle conto, que traz a paginas 15. de hum homem, a quem elle chama discreto, que attribuio a morte repentina de hum amigo a ter visto em sonhos hum Medico mao, que havia no seu tempo. Isto, que se naõ foi materialidade, foi graça daquelle sugeito, toma elle com verdade, e antecedente certo, para o seu argumento: e passa a dizer, e a exclamar, que foraõ na realidade, quando só a imagem na fantazia produzio{15} hum hum tal effeito, se hum só visto em sonhos matou hum homem! Está muito bom argumento mas se lhe negarem o supposto, logo ficará calado. Para vomitar contra os Medicos o veneno da sua malevolencia, até comessa a sua jocosidade indiscreta a illudilos por andarem a cavallo: e como os faz inimigos mortaes do genero humano, diz, que andaõ assim, como mais expeditos para o exercicio da mortandade, porque sempre a cavalaria fez mais estrago, que a infantaria (veja como saõ insulsas estas graças) e lá vai a sua erudiçaõ exquesita achar para prova hum texto de S. Joaõ, que vio a morte a cavallo. Está bem trazido! Gasta mais de huma pagina em ponderar, como condemnaõ á morte os Juizes, e os Medicos; pois aquelles o fazem com multiplicidade de votos, elles só pela sua sentença. Bella comparaçaõ? de sorte que o Juiz da pozitivamente a morte em justa pena do delito; o Medico quer intencionalmente dar a vida; mas ou porque errou, ou Deos assim o quiz, morreo o doente: logo (infere o A.) condemnou o Medico a morte ao enfermo, assim como o Juiz ao deliquente; só com a differença, que o Juiz com o voto de muitos,{16} o Medico pela sua vontade. Notal filosofia, bem tirada conclusaõ! Mas he muito para rir hum idea, que elle confessa ser tirada das suas experiencias, e logo se vê que he sua. Aconselha as Potencias belligerantes (he palavrinha sua) que introduzaõ nos exercitos oppostos hum pequeno pelotaõ de Medicos; porque elle sem duvida fariaõ em 8. dias mais destrosso, do que o exercito podia experimentar em 6. mezes de campanha. A invençaõ está exquezita. Assim ficavaõ as guerras mais suaves, e naõ experimentariaõ nellas os reinos taõ funestos, e irreparaveis estragos. Escusavaõ os miseraveis soldados de expor o peito á bala, e dezemparar as familias, perderem-se as cazas, devassarem-se as cidades, profanarem-se os templos, estragarem-se as riquezas, e poderes, e sucederem todas aquellas calamidades, que causa o furor de huma sanguinolenta guerra. Em boa paz se fazia tudo: hiaõ os Medicos, Cirurgioens, e Boticarios matando descançadamente de seu vagar, ou para melhor dizer, muito depressa, porque faziaõ em 8 dias, o que os exercitos em 6 mezes, e em breve tempo se declarava feliz, e suavemente a victoria. A muito{17} chega o discurço humano! E ainda se naõ tinha dado nisto! Eu era de parecer, que esta carta se mandasse a essas naçoens, que actualmente andaõ belligerando (deixeme aproveitar desta palavra do A.) aver se sortia bom effeito a idéa. Mas era percizo, que o enigmatico Jozé Acursio desse tambem o modo, com que se havia fazer que a doecesse o exercito opposto; porque estando todos sãos, pareceme que naõ pode ter effeito; pois quando muito só se lhe podia dar a morte nos remedios, que se lhe receitassem para a saude. Deve tambem declarar, se he da essencia, que os ferros dos Cirurgioens sejaõ ferrugentos pois elles diz assim: Os Cirurgioens armados com os seos estojos, e patronas com 4 lancetas, e huns poucos de ferros ferrugentos. Eu nunca vi que os Cirurgiões troxesem os ferros ferros ferrugentos antes bem limpos, e amolados: e assim, se isso he condiçaõ necessaria, declare-o; naõ se frustre a idea por falta desse requezito. O certo he que a paixaõ cega aos homens; e naõ he muito que fallem delirios quando falaõ apaixonados. Assim naõ me admiro, que elle homem, que sempre venero douto, querendo illudir jocoseriamente aos Medicos cahise em tantas inepcias, e jocosidades insipidas, quando se está vendo a sua malevolencia,{18} e odio e odio; pois até os calumnias de ganharem, com que se sustentem; admirandose, de que o tempo se converta para elles em dinheiro. Bem disse eu, que a paixaõ cega aos homens; pois naõ ve este discreto, que isso naõ he só para os Medicos. Todos trabalhaõ pela vida; todos cuidaõ em ganhar o necessario, e ainda o superfluo, e para todos se converte o tempo em dinheiro, quando recebem o lucro do seu trabalho. Diga-o elle mesmo confesse para que compôz aquella carta, e a mandou imprimir? Para ganhar dinheiro: em dinheiro se lhe converteo o tempo, em que a trabalhou. Eu naõ sey, que lhe fizeraõ os Medicos, Cirurgioens, e Boticarios; pois publica contra elles taõ cruel guerra. Só louva aquelle, que curou hum homem ás palmatoadas: eu naõ sei, que graça elle achou na cura. Ella certamente dá vontade de rir, e elle mesmo o confessa. Palmatoadas he remedio, que se naõ acha na botica. Verdade he que se applica nas escolas, e estudos aos rapazes, e faz bom effeito; mas he medicina para a preguiça: para outros doenças naõ me consta. As palmatoadas inventaraõ-se para castigo eu naõ sey que adoecer seja crime. Mas repare V. m. na habilidade, que aquelle Cirurgiaõ tinha para guarda do Collegio,{19} e certamente que era mais bem empregado nesta occupaçaõ, e ficaria aperder de vista Manoel Mendes, naõ obstante ser taõ insigne official de palmatoadas, de que escaparaõ os pobres estudantes, quando as groseiras mãos de hum alfayate suaraõ imposibilitadas de trabalhar ainda depois de saõ. O A. naõ se farta de lhe louvar o bom raciocinio, e bom discurso; mas eu ainda lhe acho hum defeito, que vem a ser naõ lhe dar açoutes em lugar de palmatoadas; pois escusava de lhe cauzar o prejuizo de perder ao outro dia o seu jornal, e talvez fizessem melhor effeito; pois haviaõ mais facilmente puxar o mal abaixo. Julgo que o A. tomara para si elle Cirurgiaõ; ainda que isto, como he mezinha cazeira, naõ necessita, que lha venhaõ applicar de fóra. Quem lhe agradar encomende aos seos domesticos, que quando lhe vier alguma doença, lhe descarreguem humas poucas de palmatoadas, ou açoutes (cada hum do que mais gostar) e em quanto naõ sarar, lhe vaõ dando rijo, a ver se fazem fugir o mal ás pancadas. E para que naõ pareça que faço zombaria do remedio, eu quero tambem contar o meu cazo a imitaçaõ do A. da carta. Certo rapaz se fazia maliciozamente cocho, e tendo noticia o mestre do fingimento lhe dava meya duzia{20} de palmatoadas: sarou repentinamente o rapaz, e começou a andar muito direito. Logo com estas duas experiencias, se confirma a bondade do dito remedio. A fallar a verdade, meu amigo, eu naõ me persuado, que este escriptor dissese em seu serio, e porque assim o entendese, todas as couzas, que neste papel escreve: com tudo naõ deixa de me cauzar escrupulo, e horror o que pertende persuadir ao povo; pois toda esta carta he dirigida a meter lhe sustos, para que naõ se curem com os Medicos, nem Cirurgioens. Assim o diz o titulo: Sustos da vida nos Perigos da cura; e todo o seu empenho he intoduzir nas gentes hum medo, pavor, e susto dos mesmos Medicos. Elle entra a exclamar, quem se hade metter sem sustos nas mãos de hum Medico? Quem naõ terá sustos de ver a sua cabeceira hum homem, de quem depende á sua vida. Quem deixará de estar a cada hora esperando que lhe cortem os fios da vida? Elle faz a Medecina chea de enganos diz que he hum engano introduzido, que se naõ deve chamar bem, que melhor utilidade se consegueria sem ella. Elle diz que será mil vezes melhor na prezença de alguma queixa viver antes com ella, do que entregar-se nas mãos de qualquer Medico;{21} que he muito melhor viver sujeito ao discommodo de huma saude arruinada; do que pertenderse curar-se; que o estudo destes professores só he pelos vivos, a quem tiraõ a vida, enganando o povo nescio com alguns afforismos, que de memoria repetem. Elle quer introduzir ao vulgo, que os Medicos saõ coadjutores da morte, que o seu officio he matar; que sentenceaõ aos homens camerariamente á morte; que saõ hum contagio, cujo damno se pode experimentar nos lugares mais sadios; que he milagre estarmos vivos entre elles; que só vistos em sonhos mataõ; que fazem mais estragos em 8 dias, do que hum exercito armado em 6 mezes, andando para isso a cavallo para assim mais expeditos despojarem das vidas aos homens: e outras couzas similhantes; sendo todas estas tiradas fielmente da sua carta, quasi pelas mesmas palavras. Finalmente elle persuade ao leitor, que as juntas saõ superfluas, e os chamar Medicos se reserve só para a ultima enfermidade, e ainda isso para morrer a moda, ou que só o faça quem se enfastiar de viver, e quizer matarse por modo, que fica salva a sua consciencia. Neste passo naõ posso deixar de me impacientar, nem haverá coraçaõ catolico, e pio,{22} que que se naõ escandalize com propoziçoens taõ absurdas. Matar-se por modo que fique salva, a consciencia! Ha quem tal diga! Isto naõ pode ser; repugna direitamente aos dogmas da Religiaõ Catholica. A morte propria naõ he, nem pode ser licita: e o vulgo ignorante, vendo isto, pode persuadir-se que sim, quem chamar hum Medico com tençaõ de que elle o mate, ainda que se naõ sigua a morte, pecca mortalmente. Eu sertamente tenho hum grande receio, de que este papel enchendo de prejudiciaes preoccupaçoens o povo, cause fataes, e irreparaveis damnos a muitos dos seos leitores. Quantos se privaraõ de algum bom arbitrio, que se houvesse de dar na junta, que sobre a sua enfermidade se convocasse; sendo serto que muitas vezes se discorrem nestas conferencias operaçoens de admiraveis effeitos, que naõ occuriaõ ao Medico assistente. Quantos se deixaraõ morrer á falta de remedidos? quando lhe tira o A. o escrupulo do peccado; se ainda entendendo todos estarmos obrigados a tratar da saude, deixavaõ por negligencia fazer as doenças incuraveis, acudindo-lhe quando ja naõ tinhaõ remedio. (E ao depois se attribuia ao Medico a culpa, que só tinha o doente) Quantos haverá, que se atégora por desencarregar a{23} consciencia chamavaõ os Medicos bem a pezar da sua avareza, agora vendo que he gasto superfluo morreraõ mizeravelmente? Quantos lendo no A. que isto só se faz por moda, naõ fazendo cazo de modas, guardaraõ o dinheiro para os gastos precizos, e abreviaraõ, desgraçadamente as vidas? Quantos finalmente cheos de sustos, receios, temores, e medo dos Medicos, e suas curas, deixando multiplicar, e inveterar as queixas viveraõ com huma saude arruinada, e acabaraõ infilizmente com huma morte imtempestiva? He fatal disgraça, que o odio particular, seja taõ pernicioso ao bem publico! Eu, meu amigo, lhe peço naõ só pela nossa amizada, mas pelo zelo, e amor de Deos, e do Proximo, que em seu peito se anima, empenhe agora toda a sua efficacia, em dissuadir destas noticias preocupaçoens a este miseravel povo ensinando-lhe; que temos como catholicos, rigoroza obrigaçaõ de conservar a vida, uzar dos remedios, e do conselho dos Medicos, e de lhe obedecer nas couzas uteis para a saude persuadindo-o evidentemente contra a opiniao destes curiosos das duzias, que este papel he todo cheio de mentiras, embustes, futilidades, e incoherencias.{24} Tenho exposto a V. m. o meu voto; e naõ sey, se com molestia sua pela extençaõ de que uzei; porèm os velhos difficultosamente se izentaõ da prolixidade, e ainda eu deixei muitas couzas censuraveis. Mais extensa fora esta minha, se eu introduzira huns poucos de textos bem, ou mal trazidos, como faz o nosso Acursio. Porèm eu estou já muito esquecido destes latinorios; deixemos isto a sua vastidaõ, a quem nem escapou o exquezito: Hoc opus hic labor est. Com tudo por naõ deixar tambem de dizer minha palavrinha latina, que sempre faz muita secia, direi ao menos a da despedida, e assim me despeço em latim. Vale. Amicos ex corde. Fodasse um gama<div style="font-size: 2em; text-align: center;">
JUIZO</div>
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VERDADEIRO</div>
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SOBRE A CARTA CONTRA OS</div>
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MEDICOS,</div>
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CIRURGIOENS,</div>
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E BOTICARIOS</div>
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<em>Ha pouco impresa com o titulo de Sustos da Vida nos Perigos da Cura.</em></div>
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EXPOSTO EM HUMA</div>
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CARTA</div>
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DE HUM AMIGO A OUTRO,</div>
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que sobre ella lhe pedio o parecer.</div>
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LISBOA</div>
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Na Officina de JOSEPH FILIPPE.</div>
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Anno de M.DCC.LVIII</div>
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<em>Com as licenças necessarias.</em></div>
tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-16045453438330894622014-11-23T15:45:00.000-08:002014-11-23T15:45:22.881-08:00DA GERAÇÃO PLACEBO.OK À GERAÇÃO FACE BOO.....SÃO A GERAÇÃO POLÍTICA QUE SE EMPENHA NA PRODUÇÃO DE PLACEBOS ...PLACEBOS POLÍTICOS SÓCIO-INCUNÓMICOS AS SOLUÇÕES SÃO GENIAIS E NÃO TÊM SIDE EFFECTS OU SE TÊM EFEITOS SECUNDÁRIOS SÃO TODOS IMAGINÁRIOS TÊM O PLACEBO EDUCATIVO QUE DÁ A SENSAÇÃO DE TER TIDO UMA ÓPTIMA EDUCAÇÃO DEVIDO A TEREM UM CANUDO ENFIADO NO VIEGAS ...RESUMINDO DÁ-LHES UMA AUTO-CONFIANÇA QUE SE AFIANÇA SER MAIOR QUE A DÍVIDA NÃO SE RESOLVEM OS PROBLEMAS DA REALIDADE VIGENTE MAS RESOLVEM-SE TODOS OS PROBLEMAS DA IRREALIDADE EM QUE OS DRAGOEIROS E DEMAIS FAUNA POLÍTICA CARECA OU CABELUDA ANDAM IMERSOS ....E ESSA DE FAZEREM ARCAS DE ALIANÇA COM O MOURO DA COSTA HIRTO E FIRME COMO UMA BARRA DE FERRO DA CASA PIA É DE FACTO HILARIANTE E É TAMBÉM MUITO TRISTE ...É NO FUNDO NO FUNDO COMO O CRUZAMENTO DE UMA TELENOVELA PORTUGUESA COM UM FILME INDIANO .....E OS RESTOS POLÍTICOS DA NAÇÃO PARLAMENTAR PARA LAMENTAR<br />
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VÃO-SE DESFIANDO NUM ROSÁRIO DE CONTAS<br />
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HIRTAS E FIRMES COMO UMA BARRA DE FERRO<br />
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É UMA CABALA? É UMA KABBALAH? É UMA CAVALA?<br />
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É UMA CHAVALA? É UMA BOLSA DE ESTUDO?<br />
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É UMA BOA HERANÇA? É UMA BOA GESTÃO?<br />
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É UM MILAGRE ECONÓMICO?<br />
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QUE INTERESSA<br />
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TUDO SE IMPRIME E SUPRIME NO SUBPRIME NA INTERNET<br />
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E-DITE E-DITA E-DITADURA<br />
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É TUDO UM CONJUNTO DE E-POLITICA APOLÍTICA<br />
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FORJADA COM MUITOS MILHÕES DE BOAS ACÇÕES E BONS AMIGOS<br />
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PELA GRAÇA DE DEUS E DO ESPÍRITO SANTO<br />
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<br />tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-35341379791036370342014-05-12T12:07:00.000-07:002014-05-12T12:07:06.581-07:00HÁ INTERESSES E MUITOS A QUEM INTERESSA E BEM DEPRESSA A TODO O VAPOR MANTER A RALÉ ASSUSTADA COM OS CARRASCOS DO FUTURO SEMI-MOLE OU SEMI-DURO À SEMINOLE UM MUNDO DE MÁSCARAS MASCARA OS CARRASCOS E OS MÁRTIRES<br />
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E OS MÁRTIRES QUE SÃO CARRASCOS<br />
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E OS CARRASCOS QUE SE MARTIRIZAM<br />
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É TUDO UMA QUESTÃO DE ÉTICA OU FALTA DELA<br />
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UMA MÁSCARA PARA AS PERSONALIDADES PUBLICAMENTE AUSTERAS<br />
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E PUBICAMENTE CU RUPTAS OU MESMO CORRUPTAS<br />
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QUE TOCAM NAS PALAVRAS MUDAS<br />
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PARA EXPRESSAR EMOÇÕES INEXISTENTES<br />
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ASSASSINARAM O CARRASCO<br />
<br />
QUE PERDA<br />
<br />
CARRASCO ASSASSINA CARRASCO<br />
<br />
POLITICAMENTE CORRECTO<br />
<br />
OU CORRETO<br />
<br />
MÁRTIR ASSASSINA MÁRTIR<br />
<br />
QUEREMOS REVOLUÇÃO<br />
<br />
MAS COM SANGUE NÃO<br />
<br />
QUEREM REVOLUÇÕES ASSÉPTICAS E INODORAS<br />
<br />
AS GENTES DE BONS COSTUMES NÃO GOSTAM DO CHEIRO A RALÉ<br />
<br />
OU É A CHULÉ? ACHO QUE É O MESMOtempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-23131461245531261542014-03-26T13:53:00.000-07:002014-03-26T13:53:30.862-07:00 A DÉCIMA OU O DÍZIMO EM DECIMUS BY SEXTUS SEVERUS -A EDUCAÇÃO NÃO PRODUZ SABEDORIA JÁ LÁ DIZIA A C.I.A. OU A TIA DO MORTADELO E SALAMINHO NEM OS FANUM POLITICUS E OS FANÁTICOS FORNECEM CRENÇAS RELIGIOSAS OU NÃO NÃO BASTA UMA IGREJA DE SOCRATES PARA CRIAR UMA RELIGIÃO É NECESSÁRIO EDUCAR AS POBRES GENTES QUE A CRENÇA NÃO É FATAL É MESMO UMA FATALIDADE OU SE ACREDITA QUE QUEM SE METE COM O PS LEVA OU ASSIS OU LEVA ASSAD E QUEM SE METE COM OS RESTANTES OU LEVA COMO ASSAD OU LEVA COMO ASSIS OU SEJA LEVAR LEVAMOS NA MESMA MAS AO MENOS TEMOS ALTERNATIVA NA FORMA COMO LEVAMOSÉ ESSA A SÍNTESE DA CRENÇA NA DEMOCRACIA QUE ABRIL NOS VENDEU<br />
<br />
E QUE QUARENTA ANOS DEPOIS NÓS ANÕES AINDA TEMOS DE PAGAR<br />
<br />
E A BRANCA DE NEVE 40 ANOS DEPOIS CONTINUA CARA COMO O CARVALHO<br />
<br />
PRECISAMOS DOS BANQUEIROS DO BPN E DO SEU TALENTO?<br />
<br />
OBVIAMENTE PRECISAMOS DAÍ NÃO OS PRENDERMOS<br />
<br />
PARA VERMOS SE EMIGRAM E TRAZEM O DINHEIRO LÁ DA CRIMEIA<br />
<br />
OU DONDE CARALHO OS BANQUEIROS MIGRAM<br />
<br />
POIS SEM BANQUEIROS PARA RECEBER OU ROUBAR OU OUTRO EUFEMISMO<br />
<br />
O DINHEIRO QUE NÃO É NOSSO NEM NUNCA FOI MAS DA EUROPA<br />
<br />
E ENRIQUECER-NOS NO PROCESSO<br />
<br />
ATÉ NOS DEIXAREM MAIS POBRES QUANDO ESTICAM O PERNIL<br />
<br />
POIS NÃO NOS DEIXAM NADA EM HERANÇA<br />
<br />
<br />É QUE ELES COMEM TUDO<br />
<br />
ELES QUEM?<br />
<br />
SEI LÁ<br />
<br />
AGENTE NUM SOMOS ELES<br />
<br />
SOMOS MAI D'ELLES<br />
<br />
ELES COMEM A NÓS?<br />
<br />
OBVIAMENTE QUE SIM MAS SÓ OS MAIS TENRINHOS DAS CASAS PIAStempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-79665273463690078242014-03-10T13:06:00.001-07:002014-03-10T13:06:25.880-07:00COMO SER APLAUDIDO FAZENDO UM DISCURSO DE MERDA É SIMPLEX BASTA SER O AVÒ DO ESTADO A QUE CHEGÁMOS E DEMORAMOS 40 ANOS A CHEGAR PORQUE O ESTADO VINHA MONTADO NUMA TARTARUGA<h3 id="t24730440">
ó filha a política é como soares </h3>
<div>
faz pouco sentido</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">só faz sentido para os membros das seitas do avental</span><br /><br />DOS QUAIS METADE FALAM COMO SOARES ......E O RESTO SÃO ALMEIDAS SANTOS<br /><br />A APLAUDIR SOARES QUANDO O GAJO FALA QUALQUER COISA</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
lembram um regime qualquer a quem não tenha falhas de memória</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<br /><br />discurso xéxé sem começar por portugueses É DEMAIS QUERO NATURALMENTE<br /><br />TAMBÉM CUMPRIMENTAR OS SENHORES EMBAIXADORES AQUI PRESENTES<br /><br />QUE SÃO VÁRIOS E QUE ME DÃO UMA GRANDE SATISFAÇÃO EHHH COMPUSDE?<br /><br />EMBAIXADORES ESTRANGEIROS ERA ESCUSADO DIZER<br /><br />MAS TAMBÉM HÁ EMBAIXADORES PORTUGUESES COMO É EVIDENTE<br /><br />MAS EMBAIXADORES QUE ME QUISERAM QUE QUISERAM ESTAR AQUI PRESENTES<br /><br />(NÃO FORAM OBRIGADOS COMO NA COREIA)<br /><br />A MINHA IDEIA DO QUE SÃO OS JORNALISTAS VEM DE MUITO LONGE<br /><br />EU SEMPRE GOSTEI MUITO DOS JORNALISTAS<br /><br />E POSSO DIZER E QUERO DIZÊ-LO NESTE MOMENTO<br /><br />EU TIVE UM CONSTANTE E ANUAL.... EHH SITUAÇÃO CONSTANTE E ANUAL<br /><br />E VICE-VERSA<br /><br />DO QUE ACONTECEU NOS TEMPOS DIFÍCEIS ANTES DO 25 DE ABRIL<br /><br />PORQUE NESSA ALTURA A VIDA ERA DIFÍCIL<br /><br />TIVE MUITOS CONTACTOS COM ALGUNS DOS JORNALISTAS QUE ENTÃO ERAM IMPORTANTES<br /><br />E QUERO CITAR O NOME DELES PORQUE SÃO IMPORTANTES<br /><br />SÃO IMPORTANTES SÃO ELES....SÃO ELES...<br /><br />EU NÃO TENHO AQUI O NOME DELES TODOS .....OU PELO MENOS NÃO O ENCONTRO<br /><br />MAS JULGO QUE FORAM PESSOAS QUE DURANTE A DITADURA ESTIVERAM<br /><br />EM PORTUGAL E ATENDERAM E DERAM MUITO APOIO<br /><br />EU NÃO POSSO ESQUECER POR EXEMPLO FIGURAS QUE NESSA ALTURA.....<br /><br />EU LÁ OS CONVENCI QUE EU FOSSE ADVOGADO<br /><br />E REALMENTE EU FIZ ISSO<br /><br />MAS NA ALTURA HAVIA MUITOS JORNALISTAS PORTUGUESES ....<br /><br />ESTRANGEIROS PERDÃO QUE ME SEGUIRAM....<br /><br /><br />PERDEMOS AS COLÓNIAS MAS AS COLÓNIAS ESTAVAM PERDIDAS<br /><br />TEMOS UM GRANDE ESPAÇO NA LUSOFONIA QUE ATÉ HABLA ESPAÑOL<br /><br />A CAPACIDADE DOS MILITARES DE ABRIL</div>
<div>
que deram tudo sem uma única promoção ou senhas de gasolina ou negócios com as sobras da guerra dita colonial <br /><br />QUE NOS DERAM...QUE RESOLVERAM PARTICIPAR E DIZER<br /><br />QUE ERA PRECISO QUE HOUVESSE PARTIDOS POLÍTICOS<br /><br />QUE OS PARTIDOS POLÍTICOS DEVIAM ENTRAR NA POLÍTICA<br /><br />QUE SE DEVIAM APAIXONAR PELO NOVO SISTEMA QUE AI VINHA<br /><br />PROVAR QUE O 25 DE ABRIL NÃO MORREU<br /><br />QUE OS MILITARES DE ABRIL NÃO MORRERAM excepto o Spínola o Salgueiro o.....<br /><br />E FORAM QUEM FEZ E FORAM QUEM SALVOU O NOSSO PAÍS DA PRIMEIRA DITADURA</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
antes disso todos os Sidónios eram republicanos e laicos<br /><br />E AGORA É PRECISO E POR ISSO ACABO A POLÍTICA<br /><br />É PRECISO QUE ACABAMOS ...ACABEMOS CONTRA A DITADURA QUE ESTÁ A FAZER-SE<br /><br />SEM SE PERCEBER QUE É UMA DITADURA....AINDA.....<br /><br /><br />Publicat per Para a ditadura e em força<br />Etiquetes de comentaris: UM MARCIANO OU SÓ ARES DIVERTE-SE </div>
tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-24070497798763885912014-02-28T11:16:00.001-08:002014-02-28T11:27:42.189-08:00COMO SE LIVRAR DE VAREJEIRAS E BARATAS HUMANAS UCRANIANAS OU SÍRIAS OU ASSÍRIAS SEM FAZER MUITA FORÇA CONSELHOS PARA AS GENTES DE BONS COSTUMES POR UMA MOITA DE UM DEUS MENOR OU MESMO UM DEUS ANÃO PORQUE NÃO ATÉ AS RELVAS SE AGIGANTAM PERTO DUM DEUS DESSES<div class="section sticky " id="intro">
<h1 class="firstHeading" itemprop="name">
Como Se Livrar de Sírios Ucranianos Tártaros Palestinianos e outras Varejeiras e Baratas Humanas ou não e fazendo-o humanamente e por poucos rublos ou euros ou mesmo dólares</h1>
<div id="originators">
<br /></div>
As moscas varejeiras são grandes moscas incomuns com listras no
tórax.<br />
Elas têm corpo e membros espessos e olhos vermelhos brilhantes.<br />
Essas pestes irritantes podem chegar a 2 metros de comprimento na ucrânia devido ao acidente da Chernobilha<br />
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<h2 class="">
<span class="mw-headline" id="Passos">Passos: podem ser passos de coelho ou doutro Messias com pés pequenos </span>
</h2>
<div class="section_text" id="passos">
<ol class="steps_list_2">
<li>
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<a class="image" href="http://pt.wikihow.com/Imagem:Get-Rid-Fresh-Flies-Step-1.jpg"><img alt="Get Rid Fresh Flies Step 1.jpg" src="http://pad3.whstatic.com/images/thumb/e/e3/Get-Rid-Fresh-Flies-Step-1.jpg/670px-Get-Rid-Fresh-Flies-Step-1.jpg" height="446" width="670" /></a></div>
<b class="whb">Descubra por que as moscas ucranianas estão na sua casa.</b>
Esse tipo de mosca põe seus ovos dentro de animais mortos e, em
situações raras, até em cadáveres humanos. </li>
<li>Elas também adoram lixo.
Apesar de tudo, elas são inofensivas e não picam LOGO PODE MATÁ-LAS SEM PERIGO ELAS FAZEM ZUNZUN MAS RARAMENTE GRITAM<span class="ad_label_long ad_label0"></span>
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</li>
<li>
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<a class="image" href="http://pt.wikihow.com/Imagem:Get-Rid-Fresh-Flies-Step-2.jpg"><img alt="Get Rid Fresh Flies Step 2.jpg" src="http://pad2.whstatic.com/images/thumb/e/ef/Get-Rid-Fresh-Flies-Step-2.jpg/670px-Get-Rid-Fresh-Flies-Step-2.jpg" height="446" width="670" /></a></div>
<div class="step_num">
2</div>
<b class="whb">Se você quer que as moscas vão embora, terá que se livrar das coisas que as atraem.DINHEIRO QUE É LIXO E A RAIZ DE TODO O MAL</b></li>
<li><b class="whb">COMIDA QUE TAMBÉM É LIXO E A RAIZ QUADRADA DE TODO O MALI</b></li>
<li><b class="whb"> </b>
Deixe o lixo para fora, mesmo que não seja dia do lixeiro passar.
Verifique os cantos da sua casa à procura de animais mortos (como ratos,
pássaros, humanos etc.). Deixe as portas que levam ao lado de fora fechadas o
máximo de tempo possível. Às vezes, essas moscaSS voam para dentro depois
de se alimentarem de algum animal morto que está lá fora.....FORA DA VISTA LONGE DU CUORE ACÇÃO
</li>
<li>
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<div class="step_num">
3</div>
<b class="whb">Outra opção é matá-las.</b>
Use ZYCLON B - UM INSECTICIDA ALEMÃO COM A GARANTIA DA BAYER MATA BARATAS VAREJEIRAS JUDEUS ENFIM MATA TUDO,,,,OU EM TEMOSS DE CRIssE use os mata-moscas tradicionais, roloSS de jornal Público ou Corrreio da Manhã basta mostrá-los que elas morrem logo
</li>
<li class="final_li">
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<a class="image" href="http://pt.wikihow.com/Imagem:Get-Rid-Fresh-Flies-Step-4.jpg"><img alt="Get Rid Fresh Flies Step 4.jpg" src="http://pad1.whstatic.com/images/thumb/d/d8/Get-Rid-Fresh-Flies-Step-4.jpg/670px-Get-Rid-Fresh-Flies-Step-4.jpg" height="446" width="670" /></a></div>
<div class="step_num">
4</div>
<b class="whb">Aspire-as com o aspirador de pó.</b>
Deixe o equipamento por perto e quando houver muitas moscas juntas,
aspire-as. Elas se misturam com o pó e morrem rapidamente. Depois de
dizimar a população de varejeiras, substitua o saco. Isso não é
recomendado para aspiradores de pó que não têm saco, a não ser que você
queira ver os insetos sofrerem até a morte, o que pode demorar.......nesse caso compre Pipocas para passar o tempo....<span class="ad_label_long ad_label1"></span>
<div class="wh_ad_inner adunit1">
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<h2 class="sticking">
<span class="mw-headline" id="Dicas">Dicas</span>
</h2>
<ul>
<li>Bater em varejeiras em pleno voo funciona bem, pois
elas são lentas em virtude do seu tamanho.BATER EM MOSCA MORTA É
SADO-NECROFILIA OU É SÓ SAD? SAD Du SPORTING?<br /> Mantenha as portas fechadas.....DEIXE ENTRAR AFRICANOS UCRANIANOS OU SÍRIOS NÃO,,,,,<br />
Se você tem muito medo de moscas, NÃO SE PREOCUPE ELAS TAMBÉM TÊM
MEDO DI OCÊ PÔ .... um dedetizador pode ajudá-lo(a) a se livrar delas.<br />
Quando for recolher animais mortos, certifique-se de usar luvas ou
de lavar as mãos imediatamente no final. Senão, você poderá espalhar
germes pela sua casa....em 28.02.14
<img alt="" src="http://img.estadao.com.br/fotos/37/FD/6F/37FD6F7929C94CFE9C05E1CCFB1ECFC9.jpg" style="border: 0px currentColor;" /><br />
<br /><br />Αναρτήθηκε από RUSSO EM MATA MOSCAS COM PAU À FRENTE AGENTE ENTENDE</li>
</ul>
tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-63211574556098705432014-01-17T14:11:00.000-08:002014-01-17T14:11:05.182-08:00IS THE SAME OLD HISTORY - BETTER DROWNING THAN SWIM FOR ECONOMIC ECO-COMIC FREEDOM - OS ICTIOSSAUROS ESSAS GALINHAS COM DENTES PENSAVAM SEREM PEIXES E ADAPTARAM-SE AO FUTURO MAS RETINHAM OS OVOS MANTENDO VÍNCULOS DESNECESSÁRIOS COM O MEIO TERRESTRE O QUE É SEMPRE FATAL NAS CIVILIZAÇÕES QUE SE AFUNDAM NOS MARES E OCEANOS DA DÍVIDA DEVIDA AO FUTURO QUE COBRA JURO .....FUTUR WITH PROTRUSIBLE JAWS LIKE ALIEN THE 8TH PASSENGER OF ANGER UND ANGST<h2 style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: green; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" id="chap1_05" name="chap1_05">THE WAY IN WHICH COMPETITION AND MONETARY<br />INEFFICIENCY STRAINED THE OLD ORDER</a></h2>
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In the twentieth century of the Christian era there was still no common currency by which to measure and carry on the world's economic exchanges. </div>
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Those transactions were not merely apprehended inexactly because of this; they were falsified, and it did not seem possible that there would ever be an effective simplification.</div>
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</div>
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It is true that during what is known as the First Period of General Prosperity, from 1850 C.E. until 1914, there was a kind of working world system of currency and credit, centring upon the City of London and based on the gold pound; but this was a purely accidental growth, made workable by successive gold discoveries which prevented too disastrous a fall in prices as productive efficiency increased, and by the circumstances that gave the insular English a lead in the development of steam transport on land and sea and real incentives towards a practical propaganda of world free trade.</div>
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That first gleam of cosmopolitan sunlight waned as it had waxed, without any contemporary apprehension of the real forces at work, much less any attempt to seize upon them and organize them in permanence. </div>
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The financial ascendency and initiative of the City of London crumbled away after the war and nothing appeared to take its place. I</div>
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n any case, this quasi-cosmopolitan system based on the gold sovereign, and owing its modicum of success to continual increments in the available gold, would have wilted as the world's gold supplies gave out, but the strangulation of the world's industry after the war was greatly accelerated by the gold hoarding of the Americans and French.</div>
tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-920736463613451292013-11-21T16:30:00.000-08:002013-11-21T16:43:19.213-08:00DA EDUCAÇÃO E DA FALTA DELA NA CULTURA MUITO CULTA NAS AULAS MAGNAS NOCTURNAS PARA OS ALUNOS DAS ESCOLAS PRIVADAS PODEREM PRIVAR E DAR AO ESTADO MAIS QUE NOVO EM VOTOS QUE AQUI RENOVO À GOMES DE SÁ OU À GOMES DA COSTA QUE É BRUTA COMO BRUTO DA COSTA QUE A SOARES S'ENCOSTA E DÁ RESPOSTA DANDO À COSTA NOVO GOLPE MILITAR SE CALHAR DESTA VEZ VÊM A NADAR há diferenças claras na educação.....e nos resultados da educação privada da aula magna <br />
<br />
convidado pelo pai de Mathusalem a narrativa fadista do Peão do rato
branco assenta em bases sólidas ....não faz colagem de frases soltas e
de ideias sem nexo como Soares que viva mais mil anos...<img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/LOCAL_BRAGANCA.png" /><br />
<br />
A
narrativa fadista diz que Só Ares é um grande homem mas não foi grande
cousa como primeiro-ministro e olhe que não olhe que não, cunhal tinha
ficado melhor com a tal pasta de resto Fundação Cunhal tinha ficado ali
mesmo na Calouste era só riscar umas letras e mudar a cabeça da estátua e
tirar-lhe uns quilos....<br />
<br />
Já a narrativa socratista é de longe a melhor para surgir do nevoeiro narrativo em que asfixiamos<img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/SHOW_MEETING.png" /> <br />
<br />
senão vejamos:"não aceito que me querem (devia ser queiram mas passa) atribuir sem nenhuma razão ....<br />
<br />
a narrativa socratista até serve para: contribuir para a pluralidade dos pontos de vista para a vida pública na sua diversidade<br />
<br />
não
tenho nenhum plano para regressar à vida política (admite que o faz sem
planear nada pois é um artista e não necessita de óculos como soares
para ler as patacoadas que diz....<br />
<br />
e note-se a diferença entre o
grande grego a self educated man and a self made man com a ajuda do pai e
da mãe rica herdeira dele próprio,,,,"afastei-me da vida política pois
era o comportamento mais recente....acho que queria dizer
decente...conduzi-me a um silêncio....já soares borra-se todo....<br />
<br />
tomar a palavra<br />
<br />
quando procede enfim tem um desejo oculto<br />
<br />
o ataque pessoal e insultos<br />
<br />
a
direita nunca foi capaz de debater de forma elevada a democracia
comigo....são frases lapidares quase poéticas onde Socrates se assume
como o único garante da democracia grega e da carta constitucional de
Ulisses aos pretendentes ao trono de Ithaca e taca fogo neles<img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/EMOTICON_DROOL.png" /><br />
<br />
<br />
um dois três são quatro ....mostra a sagacidade matemática inata <br />
<br />
são quatro os líderes do PSD <br />
<br />
do PS nenhuma aqui há só um<br />
<br />
obviamente
Seguro não conta Sampaio não existe, Soares uns dias diz que derrubou
socrates noutros acredita que o messias está no exílio como ele<br />
<br />
só há um e é ele mesmo....obviamente admito-o é ele<br />
<br />
ele quem perguntará o Pastorinho das oliveiras<br />
<br />
Socrates claro...até a direcção da RTP se curvou perante ele logo é certo que ele virá um dia do nevoeiro<br />
<br />
é quase certo que é um produto da escola pública o que tem melhor narrativa<br />
<br />
Soares obviamente vem do colégio moderno ....e sendo o filho do dono percebe-se que neste caso o argumente falhe<br />
<br />
mas
até Carlos do Carmo admitiu ter andado no colégio alemão no seu
discurso na aula magna e apesar dessa educação na excelência do privado o
gajo que até soube manobrar a velharia toda insultando-a ao mesmo tempo
chamando-lhes cultos <br />
isto é parasitas sociais só dignos do campo de reeducação<br />
<br />
ainda assim este produto da élite educativa nunca passou de fadista....ou seja um boémio que nem pra operário servia...<br />
<br />
é uma lição educaTIVA muy triste<img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/EMOTICON_EMPLASTRO.png" />
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/9oS5Mc2pTn8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-64028275453830099712013-10-01T18:29:00.000-07:002013-10-01T18:29:05.428-07:00DAS PALAVRAS PERDIDAS NAS FRASES SOLTAS QUE EM REVOLTAS NOVOS MUNDOS DÃO AO MUNDO EM DEZ CARTAS ROGATÓRIAS DE MEMÓRIAS FUTURAS DE UM PASSADO POUCO PRESENTE OU MESMO AUSENTE TAL COMO SOARES DEIXOU ASSENTE....É O FADO DA NOSSA GENTE E NÃO DA VOSSA CERTAMENTEPASSOS POR SUA NATUREZA É UM S.O,S PÁ S.S.O.S<br />
ESTÁ IMPLÍCITO É UM GRITO DE AJUDEM-ME SENÃO AS RELVAS COBREM-ME<br />
JÁ O QUE DIZ PRECISAMOS DE ALGUÉM CONFIÁVEL<br />
ASSEGURA QUE NÃO SERÁ PRIMEIRO MINISTRO NO LUGAR DO CALIFA….<br />
SEGUNDO ZORRINHO (UM ZORRO MENOR SEM CAPA NEM ESPADA)<br />
SER MINISTRO DAS FINANÇAS EXIGE MAIS IDONEIDADE QUE SER SÓCRATES<br />
JÁ SOARES QUE UMAS VEZES ACREDITA TER DERRUBADO SÓCRATES<br />
E NOUTRAS ACREDITA QUE TOUT LE MONDE EST CONTRE LE REGIME<br />
PAS LE REGIME LE GOUVERNEMENT OU GO VER NA MENTE <br />
QUE JÁ SE SABE O DEUS MENOR QUE NOS DEU UMA FUNDAÇÃO<br />
PARA SUBSTITUIR OS ELEFANTES BRANCOS DO ESTADO NOVO<br />
PASSA POR CIMA DOS NOSSOS PRESENTES E FUTUROS<br />
A PASSO DE TARTARUGA<br />
ENQUANTO NO ANTIGO REGIME SEMPRE PODÍAMOS PASSAR POR CIMA DE SALAZAR<br />
EM FORMA DE PONTE….<br />
ENFIM O QUE ESTE REGIME FEZ PELOS CADASTRADOS <br />
QUE LIMPAVAM A LATRINA DE SOARES SEGUNDO AS SUAS MEMÓRIAS <br />
SEM FUTURO E MAL PASSADAS NUM PRESENTE<br />
POUCO PRESENTE<br />
FOI LEVÁ-LOS A DESCOBRIR QUE AFINAL NÃO ERAM BURLÕES OU LADRÕES<br />
MAS SIM POLÍTICOS ESPECIALIZADOS SEM FILIAÇÃO PARTIDÁRIA<br />
E SÓ POR ISSO ESTE REGIME FOI O QUE MAIS MUNDOS DEU AO MUNDO<br />
BOM DEU É EXAGERO<br />
VENDEU-OS POR AJUSTE DIRECTO<br />
E A UM MUNDO QUE NEM OS QUERIA COMPRAR<br />
NEM QUERIA EMPRESTAR DINHEIRO PARA O NEGOTIUM<br />
E NEGOTIUM É A NEGAÇÃO DO ÓCIO<br />
JÁ A MANIFESTAÇÃO É A CONTINUAÇÃO DA CONSTITUIÇÃO CARNAVALESCA <br />
POR OUTROS MEIOS OU POR OUTROS FINS<br />
UMA DESSAS MENTIRAS <br />
CIVILIZACIONAIS<br />
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OBVIAMENTE BANAIStempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-83443099530990139232013-09-09T14:07:00.001-07:002013-09-09T14:07:28.299-07:00DA ÉTICA DA POLÍTICA VENDIDA AOS GRANDES E PEQUENOS INTERESSES À ÉTICA DOS POLÍTICOS COMPRADOS POR INTERESSES VÁRIOS<br />
<br />
NESTA CAMPANHA ALEGRE QUE S'AVIZINHA<br />
<br />
NUM VERÃO ARDENTE QUE ETICAMENTE NOS QUEIMA<br />
<br />
QUAIS JUDEUS NA FOGUEIRA DA PURIFICAÇÃO FEITA INQUISIÇÃO<br />
<br />
A ética TEM CAMPANHA OU A CAMPANHA TEM ÉTICAS NAS ETIQUETAS?<br />
<br />
OS PARTIDOS NÃO QUEREM CONSTRUIR O PRESENTE POIS É CARO<br />
<br />
FICA MAIS FÁCIL CONSTRUIR A MEMÓRIA DO PASSADO<br />
<br />
OU AS MEMÓRIAS FUTURAS MAL PASSADAS NO PRESENTE<br />
<br />
ASSIS OU ASSAD A PIOLHEIRA RASGA CARTAZES DESDE PAULO'S PEDROSO'S 2009<br />
<br />
ATÉ GENTES QUE QUEREM CONSTRUIR O FUTURO NO SÉCULO XXI<br />
<br />
AO ESTILO DO SÉCULO XX OU MESMO DO XIX <br />
<br />
OU PÕE-LHES BIGODAÇAS EM CRISE HITLERIANAS<br />
<br />
MESMO QUE SEJAM GAJAS ROLIÇAS E QUASE ALEMÃS NA SUA FALTA DE CRISE<br />
<br />
E SE NA COSTA DA CAPARICA OU CAPA RICA<br />
<br />
APENAS PÕEM BIGODES E RASGAM CARTAZES<br />
<br />
NA SOBREDA SEM SOBRO QUEIMAM CARTAZES E MATAS E MATOS FLORESTAIS<br />
<br />
APESAR DE NA SOBREDA OS CÂNDIDOS CANDIDATOS<br />
<br />
ETICAMENTE CONSTRUIREM FUTUROS SEM PASSADOS QUE SE VEJAM<br />
<br />
NEM PRESENTES NO PRESENTE<br />
<br />
POIS SERIA FALTA DE ÉTICA<br />
<br />
DAR PRESENTES A QUEM TEM COMO PRESENTE O FUTURO....<br />
<br />
CARTAZES CHEIOS DE ÉTICA COMO ESTES<br />
<br />
além duns dentes de vampiro<br />
ganhAM duas frases extra COMO COMENTÁRIO POLÍTICO7<br />
<br />
À ÉTICA DO POLÍTICO <br />
1º COMENTÁRIO :constróis mas é o caralho<br />
<br />
2º COMENTÁRIO O CARALHO estava de esguelha NÃO DEU PRA LER<br />
<br />
era um grafiteiro pouco éticUS OU ETICUS UMA BERLUSCONICE DESSSASS<br />
<br />
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<div class="verse">
Sun is shinin' in the sky<br /> There ain't a cloud in sight<br /> It's stopped rainin', everybody's in a play<br /> And don't you know, it's a beautiful new day, hey</div>
<div class="verse">
Runnin' down the Avenue<br /> See how the sun shines brightly<br /> In the city on the streets where once was pity<br /> Mr. Blue Sky is living here today, hey</div>
<div class="verse">
Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why<br /> You had to hide away for so long<br /> Where did we go wrong?</div>
<div class="verse">
Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why<br /> You had to hide away for so long<br /> Where did we go wrong?</div>
<div class="verse">
Hey, you with the pretty face<br /> Welcome to the human race<br /> A celebration Mr. Blue Sky's up there waitin'<br /> And today is the day we've waited for</div>
<div class="verse">
Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why<br /> You had to hide away for so long<br /> Where did we go wrong?</div>
<div class="verse">
Hey there Mr. Blue, we're so pleased to be with you<br /> Look around see what you do<br /> Everybody smiles at you</div>
<div class="verse">
Hey there Mr. Blue, we're so pleased to be with you<br /> Look around see what you do<br /> Everyone is positive</div>
<div class="verse">
Mr. Blue you did it right<br /> But soon comes Mr. Night<br /> Creepin' over, now his hand is on your shoulder<br /> Never mind, I'll remember you this, I'll remember you this way</div>
<div class="verse">
Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why<br /> You had to hide away for so long<br /> Where did we go wrong?</div>
<div class="verse">
Hey there Mr. Blue, we're so pleased to be with you<br /> Look around see what you do<br /> Everybody smiles at you</div>
<br /> tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-41208690994242733362013-08-26T18:43:00.000-07:002013-08-26T18:43:14.458-07:00E DEUS DISSE FAÇAM-SE MOSCAS E AS MOSCAS FIZERAM-SE A SI PRÓPRIAS-DAS PORTELAS DE MOSCAS LOUCAS ÀS PORTELAS DE MOSCAS ATRASADAS MENTAIS EM 8 MIL MILHÕES DE FUTURAS REFEIÇÕES<ol class="commentlist">
<li class="comment even thread-even depth-1 highlander-comment" id="comment-1426178"><ul class="children">
<li class="comment even depth-2 highlander-comment" id="comment-1426231"><div class="c-body">
A POLÍTICA PORTUGUESA EM PORTELADAS EM SUAVES PRESTAÇÕES NO VIEGAS<br />
BREVEMENTE PORTELAS DE POLÍTIQUICES DE MERDA<br />
A ABRIR EM BLOKOS E B-LOUKOS NUM ESPAÇO <br />
ECONÓMICO OU NÃO<br />
MAS DE CERTEZINHA INEXISTENTE<br />
PERTINHO DE SI VIRTUAL PESSOA DE VIRTUAIS IDEIAS OU I-DEI-AS<br />
DO SIMULACRO DAS DÚVIDAS AO SIMULACRO DAS DÍVIDAS EM 12 PORTELADAS<br />
OU SE CALHAR 13 PORTELADAS<br />
THE BLOG MANIAC<br />
OR EGOMANIAC IS THE SAME <br />
GOVERNO XUXA NA LISTA E ALL VÁ INÊS <br />
O SENHOR DOUTOR É UM MENTIROSO<br />
O SENHOR DOUTOR ESTÁ VENDIDO AOS NOSSOS INTERESSES<br />
O SENHOR DOUTOR ESTÁ CON GEMINADO OU CONGEMINADO COM OS DA KGB<br />
O SENHOR PROFESSOR PRESIDENTE NÃO OFERECEU AOS BOMBEIROS :<br />
A)UM CARRO COM MARQUISE<br />
B) DOIS EUROMILIONÁRIOS FALIDOS QUE ASSASSINAM AS SENHORIAS POR AUMENTO BRUTAL DA LEI DAS RENDAS DE BILROS<br />
C)TRÊS CHAIN GANG DE HOMICIDAS PARA LIMPAR A FLORESTA<br />
D) QUATRO TESTES PARA PROFESSORES COM TODAS AS ANTERIORES<br />
E)CINCO PROFE’S DE ECONOMIA PARA ENCHER O BURACO PERDÃO O DÉFICITE DE SABEDORIA ECONÓMICA NA CATÓLICA<br />
F) SEIS BLOGUES DE ELEGIAS A ALGUÉM QUE DEIXOU O PAÍS MAIS RICO<br />
G) SETE PORTELAS DE EMPRESÁRIOS EMPREENDEDORES<br />
DO DALTONISMO POLÍTICO AO PAÍS INAMOVÍVEL<br />
VAI UMA PORTELA DE VILÕES E DE VILINHAS…<br />
E OBVIAMENTE DE PILINHAS…<br />
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<div class="reply">
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</div>
</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li class="comment odd alt thread-odd thread-alt depth-1 highlander-comment" id="comment-1426187"><div class="c-grav">
<img alt="" class="avatar avatar-60 grav-hashed grav-hijack" height="60" id="grav-e36c6c6559b1feb3c66d4eacc4b8fab0-1" src="http://2.gravatar.com/avatar/e36c6c6559b1feb3c66d4eacc4b8fab0?s=90&d=wavatar" width="60" /></div>
</li>
</ol>
tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-11771243211133435072013-07-23T17:05:00.002-07:002013-07-23T17:08:23.129-07:00SE A REVOLUÇÃO TEM DIAS A CONTRA-REVOLUÇÃO TEM MARÉS DE SANGUE OU MARES TANTO FAZ-NUM SHOT SEM PREVIDÊNCIA CAI UM REGIME DE AUSÊNCIAENTRE A AUSTERIDADE<br />
<br />
E DO REGABOFE,<br />
A IDADE<br />
<br />
CAI SOBRE A SOBRIEDADE,<br />
DE CHOFRE<br />
<br />
UMA TERNA ANSIEDADE,<br />
PELO COFRE<br />
<br />
DA PREVIDÊNCIA?<br />
<br />
OU PELA AUSÊNCIA<br />
DE MOTE?<br />
<br />
NADAI NADAI<br />
QUE O BOTE <br />
DE TROTE EM TROTE<br />
SE AFUNDA<br />
REMAI REMAI<br />
QUE TUBARÃO<br />
ANÃO<br />
PERSEGUE VOSSA BUNDA<br />
IMUNDA<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dOlKBX7BzpI" width="560"></iframe>
TROTAI TROTAI<br />
QUE VERMELHO MAR<br />
VOS INUNDA<br />
<br />
NO CHAMEJAR<br />
DA ROTUNDA <br />
<br />
<br />tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-79333387773919992842013-06-30T17:14:00.000-07:002013-06-30T17:14:11.144-07:00DAS LIÇÕES QUE A HISTERIA DÁ A UMA HISTÓRIA QUE NUNCA PEDIU LIÇÕES E MUITO MENOS AS DEU...A história, nunca ensinou nada, porque se ensinasse alguma cousa não estávamos perpetuamente em colapsos civilizacionais adiados <br /><br /> e a atualidade apenas confirma que o acordo ortográfico medrou bem pois se os cidadãos se revoltam ou revoltam-se nos períodos de mais aguda crise ou privação <br />então os brasileiros mortos de fome durante boa parte do século XX eram uns masoquistas do caralho....<br /><br /><br />que os cidadãos se revoltam ou revoltam-se ocasionalmente contra um estado de coisas injusto, em motins ou em motinhas de Hell's Angels já a gente o sabia ó sabiá<br /><br />obrigando ou parecendo obrigar algumas instituições (exceptuam-se Fundações Estilo Getúlio Vargas e Lojas com homens travestidos de fadas do lar ou de magarefes de vegetais blood free....e o poder político ou político-económico <br />a inflexões temporárias e pouco significativas na governança ou noutra hansa ou noutra cybernetica grega da governação das naus ou naves . <br /><br />Seria de esperar que os jovens europeus sexagenários ou os adultos octagenários fossem gregos, portugueses ou espanhóis, governados por conservadores que lhes estão a sequestrar o futuro,já para mais de 20 anos...e alguns ociosos dizem há mais de 50 ou mesmo 150...<br /><br /> tanto no emprego inexistente numa economia a crédito e prenhe de serviços de venda e manutenção de Ipod's e Iphodesphodes e outras FDP's Fanatiquices dos Pópós <br /><br />como na saúde muito gasta duma populaça com 1 milhão acima dos 74<br /><br /> e na educação, que foi sempre uma merda desde Verney a José Sarney e ao desnorte das águas...<br /><br />pois seria normal que jovens de idade vetusta se revoltassem nas ruas e queimassem carros nos bairros de 6 de maio, ou na zona j de chelas ou bruxelas<br /><br /> e o fizessem mais intensamente do que os jovens brasileiros cuja idade média do quartil inferior é ligeiramente inferior à europeia assim como o nível de vida dos miseráveis<br /><br />miseráveis esses , governados por um governo progressista que tem prosseguido políticas de inclusão social, também conhecida por esmola <br /><br />enquanto embolsam fluviários de grana ou pilim ou arrotam rotundas de arame ou de notas de palhaços mil...<br />
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<br />governo progressista ainda que por vezes equivocado a respeito da prioridade relativa do poder económico e dos direitos de cidadania.....chama-se em grego Latrocracia<br /><br />ou é em latinório de Theocracia?tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-27268361531406714322013-05-09T19:41:00.002-07:002013-05-09T19:52:42.220-07:00AS MÚMIAS NA POLÍTICA SÃO MUITAS E MULTICOLORES E CONTRARIAMENTE ÀS EGÍPCIAS AS NOSSAS ATÉ DISCURSAM OU PARECEM FAZÊ-LO COMO A GRAVIDADE PARECE CURVAR O ESPAÇO SOBRE SI MESMO OU SE CALHAR NEM POR ISSO A CURVATURA DO ESPAÇO É QUE PARECE FAZER UMA TAL DE GRAVIDADE É UM ENIGMA COMO AS MÚMIAS FALANTESTEMOS MÚMIAS PARTICULARES<br />
<br />
TEMOS A MÚMIA ESTICADINHA CABISBAIXA<br />
<br />
VULGO MÚMIA MEC OU MECANOGRÁFICA<br />
<br />
UMA COUSA QUE FOI MUMIFICANDO COM A IDADE<br />
<br />
UMA MÚMIA QUE NASCEU VELHA E VELHA MORREU<br />
<br />
MUMIFICADA ENTRE PASSAGENS DE TEMPOS GLORIOSOS<br />
<br />
E ORGASMOS MILITARISTAS QUE DERAM NOVOS MUNDOS<br />
<br />
A QUEM PREFERIA FICAR VIVO NO MUNDO VELHO <br />
<br />
MÚMIAS ASSIM INCLINAM PARA TODOS OS LADOS<br />
<br />
EXEMPLOS DE MÚMIAS M.E.C OU MECANO GRÁFICAS?<br />
<br />
TEMOS A MÚMIA DE SOARES<br />
<br />
QUE QUANTO MAIS VELHA<br />
<br />
MAIS SE ALAVANTA<br />
<br />
AS MÚMIAS NORMAIS FICAM DEITADAS<br />
<br />
OU EM PÉ DENTRO DOS SARCÓFAGOS<br />
<br />
MAS AS NOSSAS MEXEM-SE E MEXEM-SE MUITO<br />
<br />
TEMOS A MÚMIA DA MARATONA<br />
<br />
AGORA EM SERVIÇO PÚBLICO DA RTP<br />
<br />
A MÚMIA QUE FILOSOFA FILOSOFA<br />
<br />
E SEMPRE SOBRE SI MESMO<br />
<br />
E APESAR DE SE PERCEBER MELHOR<br />
<br />
DO QUE A MÚMIA DO JORGE SAMPAIO<br />
<br />
É, SE TAL É POSSÍVEL<br />
<br />
LIGEIRAMENTE MAIS CHATA<br />
<br />
AS MÚMIAS CAVAQUISTAS ESTYLO ALMEIDA SANTOS<br />
<br />
DÃO AVISOS VAGOS SOBRE APOCALIPSES FUTUROS<br />
<br />
UMAS AVISAM QUE AS PONTES VÃO ABAIXO<br />
<br />
OUTRAS AVISAM QUE AS PONTES JÁ SE FORAM<br />
<br />
DEPOIS NÃO DIGAM QUE NÃO AVISÁMOS<br />
<br />
DIZEM-NOS AS MÚMIAS ENQUANTO CURVAM O ESPAÇO<br />
<br />
MAS A MAIS EXTRA ORDINÁRIA DAS MÚMIAS<br />
<br />
É A MÚMIA CICLISTA DO PCP<br />
<br />
CEM ANOS A RODAR E AINDA CONSEGUE ARRASTAR<br />
<br />
GERAÇÕES DE MÚMIAS MAIS PARALÍTICAS<br />
<br />
QUE A MÚMIA DE LENINE<br />
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É O FADO DE NÃO TER FADAS MADRINHAS<br />
<br />
MAS TER MÚMIAS POR PADRINHOStempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4660837744680382900.post-2798131648076865712013-03-27T10:39:00.001-07:002013-03-27T10:39:09.939-07:00E AO DÉCIMO DIA O NOSSO MESSIAS DANI LE ROUGE SAIU DO NEVOEIRO NUM DRAKKAR NOIR CHEIO DE BACALHAU DA NORUEGA NESTA NOSSA PRIMAVERA ÁRABE MUITO FRIA NESTE DESERTO QUE NEM NOS AQUECE ANTES PELO CONTRÁRIO COMO DIRIA EL REY JORGE I DE COGNOME O SANS PAYO - AH SE O PAÍS FOSSE O SPORTING E O SPORTING O PAÍS, NESSE CASO UM DELES PELO MENOS SAFAVA-SE E DAÍ TALVEZ NÃO <div id="main_cnt">
<div data-linhas="31" id="div_letra">
Abre também a tua voz e vem comigo<br />Não cantaremos nunca mais o fado antigo.<br /> Agora<br /> Em cada verso há um homem que não chora<br /> E o futuro é o sítio onde se mora.<br /> Cantar é ser um pássaro de esperança<br /> Poisado no olhar duma criança<br /> Que de olhar nunca se cansa.<br /><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-0">Amigo</span><br /><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-0"> Vou-te dizer palavras loiras como o trigo</span><br /><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-0"> Hoje cantar é aprender a estar contigo.</span><br /> Agora<br /> Cada palavra tem o gosto duma amora<br /> Que a gente apanha e morde pela vida fora.<br /> Cantar é ter um sol dentro da voz<br /> E repartir o sol por todos nós.<br /> Cantar é não estarmos sós.<br /> Amigo<br /> Vou-te bater com as palavras ao postigo<br /> Escuta o sentido das noticias que te digo:<br /> Agora<br /> Cada canção terá a força duma aurora<br /> Que a gente acende e leva pela vida fora.<br /> Cantar é ser um pássaro de esperança<br /> Poisado no olhar duma criança<br /> Que de olhar nunca se cansa.<br /> Amigo<br /> Não tenhas medo do cansaço ou do castigo<br /> A nossa voz dá-nos calor, dá-nos abrigo.<br /><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-1">A hora</span><br /><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-1"> É de mandarmos a saudade e o choro embora</span><br /><span class="goog_qs-tidbit goog_qs-tidbit-1"> E noutro fado</span> desgarrarmos vida fora. </div>
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Regressado a uma terra cheia de vacuidades e de
fanáticos dos pópós, após uma ausência de dez dias, pois se regressasse
de uma ausência acho que era um bocado Buñuelista, enfim regressei da
ausência e agora existo no antónimo da ausência, que deve ser a Presença
ou Pressinto que estou presente nesta ausência em que me fico, enfim
contava
encontrar o País, mas curiosamente perdi o país e encontrei outra coisa,
acho que era o Sporting que é uma baronia do tal malpaís a descutir
(dez cutir ou diz cu tire<img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/EMOTICON_SMILE.png" />ó
vi egas) a situação no Chipre em vez doutra merda qualquer como as
hemorróidas no viegas ou a falência do Sporting segundo SAMpaio segundo,
uma brutalidade similar à cipriota mas mais pertinho e com menos bancos
ou se calhar mais (assunto que se debatia
e que eu próprio tratei no "Café Expresso" quando parti na minha
cruzada contra os mouros <img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/EMOTICON_ANGEL.png" /> a bem do país que deu novos mundos ao el mondo il mondo...) </div>
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ou
a situação (assaz desagradável ) em
que Portugal ficará ou se calhar já está quando o Tribunal Contitucional
descobrir que o país ou se calhar Portugal ou a Hispania como colónia
greco-romana afinal é inconstitucional e deve ser extinta ou deitada ou
lixo, ou se calhar tornar-se o viegas dos 15 do Euro ou dos 22 da união,
porque apesar de tudo ainda ficam uns abaixo da gente...<img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/EMOTICON_BLUSHED.png" /></div>
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é
verdade que ter tanta malta em cima nesta suruba continental de
incontinentes vai foder-nos o espinhaço em escudos, em drachmas em
dramas ou em leks em euros vai ser muito, mas mesmo muito difícil e no
restante numerário ainda peor, mas não para todos....<img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/EMOTICON_SECRET.png" /></div>
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Se
uns juízes que faltam em média 15 dias em cada ano de 250 tirando fins
de semana e férias judiciais e feriados, tornarem este
e os próximos Orçamentos inviáveis pois a constitucionalidade quando cai
não é para todos (que só? ou mal acompanhada pode ser resolvida, o que é
que pode ser resolvida? a crise aparentemente com a queda do governo e o
ínicio da auto-gestão da nação a bem do país ou de Portugal ou a bem da
comissão de falências uma dessas). </div>
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Afinal a excitação erao (um neologgismo de pedreiro livre</div>
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o famoso erao púbico antes erarium publicus )</div>
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O
regresso de Socrates o grego pela mão de Socrates o grego e dos seus
platónicos alunos pedreiros-livres de lojas e tendas várias, loggia
erRoTeuPá de
Miguel Relvas inclusa ex-clusius. </div>
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Sobre
as razões ou vontades ou paixões educativas de educar a piolheira, qual
educador da classe operária do MRPP, só Socrates o grego o sabe<img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/SHOW_OFFLINE.png" />eu cá juro que não faço a mínima e se fizesse calava-me que a injustiça processual fica cara à brava<img src="http://imgs.sapo.pt/images/blogs/mood/EMOTICON_HIDE.png" />tempus fugit à pressahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14016161054765653473noreply@blogger.com3