dilluns, 28 de juliol del 2014

HE SARTED KEEPING A JOURNAL .....THE FURTIVE ACT OF A DERANGED PERSON - IT IS SOMETIMES AN APPROPRIATE RESPONSE TO REALITY TO GO INSANE - THOSE WHO AGREE WITH YOU YOUNG GAMA CROSS ARE INSANE ....AND SOMETIMES THEY ARE IN POWER AND SOMETIMES THEY ARE THE POWER...

It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.”
“When you are crazy you learn to keep quiet.”
“There exists, for everyone, a sentence - a series of words - that has the power to destroy you. Another sentence exists, another series of words, that could heal you. If you're lucky you will get the second, but you can be certain of getting the first.”
“This is a mournful discovery.
1)Those who agree with you are insane
2)Those who do not agree with you are in power.”
“There is no route out of the maze. The maze shifts as you move through it, because it is alive. ”
“The distinction between sanity and insanity is narrower than a razor’s edge, sharper than a hound’s tooth, more agile than a mule deer. It is more elusive than the merest phantom. Perhaps it does not even exist; perhaps it is a phantom. ”
“Fear can make you do more wrong than hate or jealousy... fear makes you always, always hold something back.”
“The cries of the dead are terrible indeed; you should try not to hear them.”
“Fish cannot carry guns.”
“Everybody knows that Aristotelian two-value logic is fucked.”
“It has been said of dreams that they are a 'controlled psychosis,' or, put another way, a psychosis is a dream breaking through during waking hours.”
“I did not tell Fat this, but technically he had become a Buddha. It did not seem to me like a good idea to let him know. After all, if you are a Buddha you should be able to figure it out for yourself.”
“Just tell me why; why the fucking why?" To which the universe would hollowly respond, "My ways cannot be known, oh man." Which is to say, "My ways do not make sense, nor do the ways of those who dwell in me.”
“It is amazing that when someone else spouts the nonsense you yourself believe you can readily perceive it as nonsense”
“Each of us assumes everyone else knows what HE is doing. They all assume we know what WE are doing. We don't...Nothing is going on and nobody knows what it is. Nobody is concealing anything except the fact that he does not understand anything anymore and wishes he could go home.”
“The mentally disturbed do not employ the Principle of Scientific Parsimony: the most simple theory to explain a given set of facts. They shoot for the baroque.”
“What he did not know then is that it is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.”
“Fat realized that one of two possibilities existed and only two; either Dr. Stone was totally insane – not just insane but totally so – or else in an artful, professional fashion he had gotten Fat to talk; he had drawn Fat out and now knew that Fat was totally insane.”
―started keeping a journal - had been, in fact, secretly doing so for some time: the furtive act of a deranged person.”
“We hypostatize information into objects. Rearrangement of objects is change in the content of the information; the message has changed. This is a language which we have lost the ability to read. We ourselves are a part of this language; changes in us are changes in the content of the information. We ourselves are information-rich; information enters us, is processed and is then projected outward once more, now in an altered form. We are not aware that we are doing this, that in fact this is all we are doing”
“Basically, Sherri's idea had to do with bringing Fat's mind down from the cosmic and the abstract to the particular. She had hatched out the practical notion that nothing is more real than a large World War Two Soviet tank.”
“You know what the doctor said to me to cheer me up?" Fat said. "There are worse diseases than cancer."
"Did he show you slides?"
We both laughed. When you are nearly crazy with grief, you laugh at what you can.”
“I can see Richard Wagner standing at the gates of heaven. "You have to let me in," he says. "I wrote Parsifal. It has to do with the Grail, Christ, suffering, pity and healing. Right?" And they answer, "Well, we read it and it makes no sense." SLAM.”
“The frogs hopping indoors agree that we are on a prison planet.
They themselves are frog criminals that were convicted of doing frog crimes.”
“Amazed, Fat said, "She's decomposing and yet she's still giving birth?"
"Only to monsters," Dr. Stone said.”
“The exegesis Fat labored on month after month struck me as a Pyrrhic victory if there ever was one -- in this case an attempt by a beleaguered mind to make sense out of the inscrutable. Perhaps this is the bottom line to mental illness: incomprehensible events occur; your life becomes a bin for hoax-like fluctuations of what used to be reality. And not only that -- as if that weren't enough -- but you, like Fat, ponder forever over these fluctuations in an effort to order them into a coherency, when in fact the only sense they make is the sense you impose on them, out of necessity to restore everything into shapes and processes you can recognize. The first thing to depart in mental illness is the familiar. And what takes its place is bad news because not only can you not understand it, you also cannot communicate it to other people. The madman experiences something, but what it is or where it comes from he does not know.”
“Men and the world are mutually toxic to each other.”
“Look in it,' he said, smiling slightly, as you do when you have given someone a present which you know will please him and he is unwrapping it before your eyes.
I opened it. In the folder I found four 8×10 glossy photos, obviously professionally done; they looked like the kind of stills that the publicity departments of movie studios put out.
The photos showed a Greek vase, on it a painting of a male figure who we recognized as Hermes.
Twined around the vase the double helix confronted us, done in red glaze against a black background. The DNA molecule. There could be no mistake.
'Twenty-three or -four hundred years ago,' Fat said. 'Not the picture but the krater, the pottery.'
'A pot,' I said.
'I saw it in a museum in Athens. It's authentic. Thats not a matter of my own opinion; I'm not qualified to judge such matters; it's authenticity has been established by the museum authorities. I talked with one of them. He hadn't realized what the design shows; he was very interested when I discussed it with him. This form of vase, the krater, was the shape later used as the baptismal font. That was one of the Greek words that came into my head in March 1974, the word “krater”. I heard it connected with another Greek word: “poros”. The words “poros krater” essentially mean “limestone font”. '
There could be no doubt; the design, predating Christianity, was Crick and Watson's double helix model at which they had arrived after so many wrong guesses, so much trial-and-error work. Here it was, faithfully reproduced.
'Well?' I said.
'The so-called intertwined snakes of the caduceus. Originally the caduceus, which is still the symbol of medicine was the staff of- not Hermes-but-' Fat paused, his eyes bright. 'Of Asklepios. It has a very specific meaning, besides that of wisdom, which the snakes allude to; it shows that the bearer is a sacred person and not to be molested...which is why Hermes the messenger of the gods, carried it.'
None of us said anything for a time.
Kevin started to utter something sarcastic, something in his dry, witty way, but he did not; he only sat without speaking.
Examining the 8×10 glossies, Ginger said, 'How lovely!'
'The greatest physician in all human history,' Fat said to her. 'Asklepios, the founder of Greek medicine. The Roman Emperor Julian-known to us as Julian the Apostate because he renounced Christianity-conside​red Asklepios as God or a god; Julian worshipped him. If that worship had continued, the entire history of the Western world would have basically changed”
“Once, in a cheap science fiction novel, Fat had come across a perfect description of the Black Iron Prison, but set in the far future. So if you superimposed the past (ancient Rome) over the present (California in the twentieth century) and superimposed the far future world of The Android Cried Me a River over that, you got the Empire, as the supra- or trans-temporal constant. Everyone who had ever lived was literally surrounded by the iron walls of the prison; they were all inside it and none of them knew it.”
“Exactly what the powers of hell feed on: the best instincts in man.

divendres, 25 de juliol del 2014

O amor é o amor - e depois? Vamos ficar os dois a imaginar, a imaginar?... O meu peito contra o teu peito cortando o mar, cortando o ar. Num leito há todo o espaço para amar! Na nossa carne estamos sem destino, sem medo, sem pudor, e trocamos - somos um? somos dois? - espírito e calor! O amor é o amor - e depois? Fonte: http://www.luso-poemas.net/modules/news03/index.php?storytopic=41&storynum=40&order=published&mode=1&uid=0&start=0#ixzz38X560sD9

Há palavras que nos beijam
Como se tivessem boca.
Palavras de amor, esperança,
De imenso amor, de esperança louca.

Palavras nuas que beijas
Quando a noite perde o rosto;
Palavras que se recusam
Aos muros do teu desgosto.

De repente coloridas
Entre palavras sem cor,
Esperadas inesperadas
Como poesia ou o amor.

(O nome de quem se ama
Letra a letra revelado
No mármore distraído
No papel abandonado)

Palavras que nos transporta
Aonde a noite é mais forte,
Ao silêncio dos amantes
Abraçados contra a morte.




A meu favor
Tenho o verde secreto dos teus olhos
Algumas palavras de ódio algumas palavras de amor
O tapete que vai partir para o infinito
Esta noite ou uma noite qualquer
A meu favor
As paredes que insultam devagar
Certo refúgio acima do murmúrio
Que da vida corrente teime em vir
O barco escondido pela folhagem
O jardim onde a aventura recomeça.
A meu favor tenho uma rua em transe
Um alto incêndio em nome de nós todos

III
 Se uma gaivota viesse
trazer-me o céu de Lisboa
no desenho que fizesse,
nesse céu onde o olhar
é uma asa que não voa,
esmorece e cai no mar.

Que perfeito coração
no meu peito bateria,
meu amor na tua mão,
nessa mão onde cabia
perfeito o meu coração.

Se um português marinheiro,
dos sete mares andarilho,
fosse quem sabe o primeiro
a contar-me o que inventasse,
se um olhar de novo brilho
no meu olhar se enlaçasse.

Que perfeito coração
no meu peito bateria,
meu amor na tua mão,
nessa mão onde cabia
perfeito o meu coração.

Se ao dizer adeus à vida
as aves todas do céu,
me dessem na despedida
o teu olhar derradeiro,
esse olhar que era só teu,
amor que foste o primeiro.

Que perfeito coração
morreria no meu peito morreria,
meu amor na tua mão,
nessa mão onde perfeito
bateu o meu coração.

 Estamos todos bem servidos
de solidão.
De manhã a recolhemos
do saco, em lugar de pão.

Pão é claro que temos
(não sou exageradão)
mas esta imagem do saco
contendo um pequeno «não»

não figura nesta prosa
assim do pé para a mão,
pois o saco utilizado,
que pode ser o do pão,

recebe modestamente
a corriqueira fracção
desse alimento que é
tão distribuído, tão

a domicílio como
o leite ou o pão.
Mas esse leitor aí
(bem real!) já diz que não,

que nunca viu no tal saco
o tal «não».
Ao que o poeta responde,
sem maior desilusão:

- Para dizer a verdade,
eu também não...
Mas estava confiante
na sua imaginação
(ou na minha...) e que sentia
como eu a solidão
e quanto ela é objecto

da carinhosa atenção

de quem hoje nos fornece
o quotidiano «não»,
por todos os meios, desde
a fingida distracção,

até ao entre-parêntesis
de qualquer reclusão...

Mal nos conhecemos
Inauguramos a palavra amigo!
Amigo é um sorriso
De boca em boca,
Um olhar bem limpo
Uma casa, mesmo modesta, que se oferece.
Um coração pronto a pulsar
Na nossa mão!
Amigo (recordam-se, vocês aí,
Escrupulosos detritos?)
Amigo é o contrário de inimigo!
Amigo é o erro corrigido,
Não o erro perseguido, explorado.
É a verdade partilhada, praticada.
Amigo é a solidão derrotada!
Amigo é uma grande tarefa,
Um trabalho sem fim,
Um espaço útil, um tempo fértil,
Amigo vai ser, é já uma grande festa!





                                                             

O ESTADO GALARDÔA A ESTUPIDEZ POR FORMA A IMPOL-A (IMPO-LA MESMO ) COMO UM TALENTO, ESTE HOSPÍCIO DE SÃO BENTO ONDE NÃO TER CABEÇA RENDE TRES MIL RÉIS AO DIA ...OH SANTO DEUS QUE TYPOS..ANTIGAMENTE METIAM-SE OS MICROCEPHALOS NOS ASYLOS HOJE METEM-SE OS VASCOS DA GAMA NA POLÍTICA....APARTE OUTRAS VIRTUDES A POLÍTICA TIRA VADIOS DA CADEIA E PESPEGA COM ELES NO CAMINHO DA FORTUNA

TODOS OS SENÕES DA MULHER BELA POR OFFÍCIO

A BELEZA GORDA. A MAGRA A PALLIDA

SYMPATHIA - PRENDA DE CONSOLAÇÃO PARA AS QUE NÃO SÃO NEM BONITAS

NEM FEIAS FUNDADA NA INTELLIGENCIA

(ESPECIE DE REFRIGÉRIO PARA AS HORROROSAS)

O QUE ENTENDIA O SENHOR ALUMNO POR PERCEPÇÃO INTERNA...

- PORQUE ERA UM RIO SÓ COMPOSTO D'AGUA ?

COMO HA DEZ OU DOZE ANNOS OS EDUCADORES DA MOCIDADE PORTUGUEZA

VÃO PRESCREVENDO A INSTRUCÇÃO SECUNDÁRIA

NÃO COMO UM METHODO

MAS COMO UMA ENCYCLOPEDIA OU WIKIPEDIA....


dijous, 24 de juliol del 2014

WORDS DON'T KILL ....PEOPLE KILL ....FREEDOM KILL'S SAY SISI....FOX FREEDOM TV ....TVI MORON TV ...FREEDOM FRIES FREEDOM CHIPS FREEDOM QUIZZ.....FREEDOM BANKRUPtCY IS FOR FREE? no tee in teevee mike...

FREEDOM TALKS

FREEDOM WALKS

Tailored suits, chauffered cars
Fine hotels and big cigars
Up for grabs, up for a price
Where the red hot girls keep on dancing through the night
The claim is on you
The sights are on me
So what do you do
That's guaranteed
Hey little girl, you want it all
The furs, the diamonds, the painting on the wall
Come on come on, love me for the money
Come on, come on, listen to the money talk
Come on come on, love me for the money
Come on, come on, listen to the money talk
A French maid, foreign chef
A big house with king size bed
You've had enough, you ship them out
The dollar's up-down, you'd better buy the pound
The claim is on you
The sights are on me
So what do you do
That's guaranteed
Hey little girl, you broke the laws
You hustle, you deal, you steal from us all
Come on come on, love me for the money
Come on, come on. listen to the money talk
Come on come on, love me for the money
Come, come on, listen to the money talk
Money talks, yeah, yeah
Money talks, FREE DOOM walks
Money talks, come on, come on
Come on come on, love me for the money
Come on, come on, listen to the money talk
Come on come on, love me for the money
Come on, come on, listen to the money talk
Money talks, money talk, talk, talk
Hear it talk
Yeah, yeah, yeah money talks

dimecres, 9 de juliol del 2014

I told our Shakundas to return to their Portuguese masters on the Zambesi, as I had had enough of them, and all but one were only too glad to avail themselves of the opportunity. This one boy, as he begged to be allowed to remain with us, and as he had always been the most willing of the lot,,,,

I have seen growing in the Transvaal, even on 
farms where the trees are carefully tended and manured every 
year ; and, as the lemon-trees on the Mazoe have grown wild 
and untended in the wilderness for ages and ages, they ought 
to improve with cultivation. The natives have no tradition 
as to how the lemon-trees were introduced, but that there is a 
connection between them and the ancient gold-workings seems 
certain, for wherever lemon-trees grow, old gold-workings will 
invariably be found in the neighbourhood. They may have 
been introduced by the Portuguese two or three centuries ago, 



292 TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE IN AFRICA chap. 

or they may date back to much more ancient times, when 
South- Eastern Africa was visited by the trading peoples of 
Asia and Arabia in search of gold. 

On the following morning we walked on along the Mazoe, 
and in two hours reached its junction with the Tataguru. 
Here the Mazoe runs from the south through a gap in a high 
range of hills. The country near the junction of the Mazoe 
and Tataguru rivers we found to be literally carpeted ' with 
a profusion of wildflowers, all of the most exquisitely delicate 
shades of colour, pale mauve, pink, and lilac predominating, 
though yellow and white flowers were scattered amongst them 
too, and there was one little gem of a rich deep red. These 
flowers, though many of them were very beautiful, had nothing 
tropical in their appearance, but all looked as if they might 
grow in the open air in an English garden ; as indeed no 
doubt they would, for this country, though by its geographical 
position it is well within the tropics, is really by reason of its 
altitude a temperate country, with the climate of Southern 
Europe. 

Shortly after getting through a gap in the hills we came 
to another small tributary stream running into the Mazoe, and 
made a halt for breakfast. As we were now entirely out of 
food for ourselves and boys, and as we could see a native town 
on the side of a hill at no great distance, we sent a couple of 
our Kafirs to try to buy some meal and rice. The Mazoe 
had now become very small, little more than a deep ditch, in 
fact, and it was evident that its source could not be at any 
very great distance, so Burnett and 1 decided to leave the 
remainder of our Kafirs, who were all bad walkers, or pre- 
tended to be so, and push on to the head of the river by our- 
selves. Three hours later we stood at the actual source of 
the Mazoe. We found that as a river the Mazoe took its 
rise in two deep black pools, surrounded and overshadowed by 
thick -foliaged trees, the water being twelve or fifteen feet 
below the level of the banks. But above these pools there is 
a swamp, extending for about a mile, at the head of which 
stands a cluster of dark-leaved evergreen trees, and amongst 
these trees the actual spring of the Mazoe may be said to be. 

' End of .September 1889. 



THE SOURCES OF THE MAZOE 



293 



Into one of the deep pools I have spoken of as being the com- 
mencement of the actual river, a small rill of water, draining 
out of the marsh, falls, forming a tiny waterfall of twelve or 
fifteen feet in height. The Mazoe does not take its rise on the 
top of the high open downs of Mashunaland like the Manyami, 
the Sabi, the Sanyati, etc., but in a marsh just below the high 
level, its source being enclosed in low ridges, through which 
the water must percolate from the higher ground. After a rest 
we started back for camp, which we reached just before sun- 
down, having done over eight hours' very fast walking during 
the day. We found that our boys had bought a little rice and 
pogo meal, but having no meat we did not sit down to a very 
sumptuous repast. Since leaving Mapondera's we had seen no 
game, with the exception of a few reed-bucks, which were very 
wild and unapproachable. 




Granite Boulder, Mashunaland. 

(From a Photograph by Mr. E. A. Maund.) 



CHAPTER XVI 

Mount Hampden — Return to Inyota — Wildflowers — Journey down tlie Mazoe — 
Cross the River Inyagui — Hippopotamus shot — Rejoin Mr. Thomas at Ru- 
sambo's — Return to the Mazoe — A stockaded town — Pass Sanyara's — Burnett 
sees five lions— Reach the Ruenya — Hippopotamus shooting — A freshwater 
shark caught — Return to Tete — Interview with the Portuguese Governor — 
Portuguese hospitality — Leave Tete— Reach Vicenti— Down the Quaqua to 
Quillimani — Go on board the Courland — Return to Cape Town. 

Having traced the Mazoe to its source (in the neighbourhood 
of which I had often been in former years, without, however, 
knowing its exact position), I determined to revisit Mount 
Hampden on the Gwibi, in order to complete my compass 
surveys from the east and the west. 

Ascending the little river Dasuru, we reached the Gwibi, 
after a walk of about three and a half hours. Leaving Burnett 
and the Kafirs there, I then climbed Mount Hampden and 
took some compass bearings from trees, as the hill itself being 
rich in ironstone, no readings could be relied upon that were 
taken near the ground. Mount Hampden, . which has now 
become a household word in Mashunaland, and which in 
1 890 was named as the goal of the British South Africa 
Company's expedition to that country, had been familiar to me 
ever since 1878, and many a time in 1883, 1885, and 1887 
had I climbed its sides in order to look for ostriches, elands, 
and other game on the plains by which it is surrounded. The 
hill itself is about five hundred feet in height ; but, standing as 
it does on the eastern edge of the Mashuna plateau, and being 
all by itself in the midst of open downs, it forms an excellent 
landmark, and from its summit, which must once have been 
the site of a native town (as it is surrounded by a stone wall 
about four feet in height), a .splendid view is obtainable, extend- 



PROFUSION OF WILDFLOWERS 



295 



ing to the Umvukwi hills to the north-west, and over the 
whole of the Mazoe valley as far as Mount Inyota to the 
north-east. Most of the Kafirs know no name for this hill, 
though Inyamwenda's people call it Si-kwi, so in 1880, in a 
sketch map which I sent to the Royal Geographical Society, I 
called it Mount Hampden, naming it after that good English- 
man, John Hampden, who struggled so manfully for, and 
eventually gave his life in defence of, the liberties of his 
countrymen in those evil days when the second prince of the 
House of Stuart reigned in England. 

After leaving Mount Hampden we made for the head of 
the Umrodzi, which river we followed down to its junction 
with the Gurumapudzi ; and then passing close beneath the 
hill from which Wata and his people were driven by the 
Matabili in 1868, and crossing the Wainji and the Sawi, two 
fair-sized rivers, and several other strong running streams, got 
back to Inyota on ist October. 

In the valley of the Umrodzi, as in the valley of the 
Mazoe, I noticed a wonderful profusion of wildflowers, one 
a very lovely species that I had never seen before, and which 
I only saw along the Umrodzi for a space of about two miles, 
where, however, it was plentiful. It was not large or imposing, 
but singularly beautiful. From each little plant half-a-dozen 
long trumpet -shaped flowers about three inches in length, 
and of a delicate creamy-white colour, shot up, and from each 
of these flowers two or three long club-headed pistils of a 
dark magenta protruded, rearing themselves in their turn a 
couple of inches above the flowers. These had a most sweet and 
delicate scent, which is wanting in most flowers growing on the 
ground in South Africa. 

As I was anxious to follow the course of the Mazoe as 
much as possible on our return journey to Tete, and at the 
same time wished to get some specimens of quartz from the 
reefs on the Umkaradzi, I sent Mr. Thomas back with 
Augusto and three of our six boys by the route by which we 
had come, passing Dombo Chena, whilst Burnett and I, with 
the other three boys, struck down to the Mazoe from Tema- 
ringa's kraal. Thomas and Augusto were to wait for us at 
Rusambo's. On the 5 th of October we parted company. 



296 TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE 'IN AFRICA chap. 

Where Burnett and I struck the Mazoe we found it a good- 
sized river with large deep pools of water, and a strong running 
stream between the pools. Wc then followed the Mazoe for 
four daj'S, and found its general course to be east and west. 
VVe did not see much game along its banks, but sufficient to 
enable us to keep ourselves in meat. 

On 7th October we crossed the Inyagui, a large river flowing 
from the south, which at its junction with the Mazoe is the 
bigger river of the two. The Inyagui, or Inyagurukadzi, as it 
is sometimes called, rises near Mangwendi's village, fifty miles 
south-cast of Mount Hampden, and drains a large extent of 
country. Even at the end of the dry season it carries to the 
Mazoe a large body of swiftly-running water, which rushes over 
a pebbly bed amongst great boulders of rock, and in the rainy 
season it must become a formidable torrent, impossible to cross. 
Just below the junction of the Mazoe and the Inyagui we 
shot a very large old hippopotamus bull. We were here 
accompanied by a lot of natives, who indeed had guided us to 
the pool where wc found the hippo. Burnett and I were both 
shooting with Gibb's Metford 450-bore rifles, and between us 
had only one solid bullet, all the others being expanding. 
Burnett first fired at the hippo, and hit him in the back of the 
head, but the hollow bullet must have expanded in the muscles 
of the neck, and did not penetrate the skull. After this the 
old bull became wary, and it was some time before he gave 
another chance ; but presently, having crossed the river below 
the pool, and gone round to the other bank, I. got a good shot 
at the side of his head, and hit him with my one long .solid 
540-grain bullet somewhere about the ear. This shot partially 
stunned him, but it could not have touched his brain, or of 
course it would have killed him instantly. However, it gave 
him a very severe shock, as for some minutes after being hit 
he rolled about on the top of the water, often opening his huge 
jaws to their fullest extent, and dyeing the waves, into which 
he lashed the pool, with the blood which he blew from his 
mouth and nostrils. We thought he was dying, and did not 
fire at him again, but presently he began to recover from the 
effects of the wound, and went under water, reappearing 
almost immediately, however, but soon going down again and 



JOAO VASCON'S TOWN 



not showing himself for some time. At last he reappeared 
near Burnett, and he got a good steady shot, and put an 
expanding bullet just under his ear, and I saw by the way he 
just sank away that the bullet had reached his brain and killed 
him on the spot. It was then late in the day, so that he did 
not come up till the night, but we found him floating the next 
morning. As he was, however, as lean as a crow, and quite 
uneatable for us, we gave him to the natives just as he was, 
and continued our journey. On the following day we left the 
Mazoe and made for Chibonga's, which we reached on loth 
October, having travelled through a very dry, dreary, and 
uninteresting country. The next morning we walked over to 
Rusambo's, where we rejoined Mr. Thomas and Augusto. 

I now determined to return to the Mazoe and follow that 
river down to its junction with the Ruenya, which point I 
knew was not very far distant from Tete ; so, obtaining a guide 
from Rusambo to a village called Diwa or Zongoro, we started 
on the afternoon of 14th October, but did not reach the village 
that evening. On the following day we reached Zongoro early, 
and had breakfast there. We here met a black man named 
Joao (pronounced Jwong), who was a nephew of the Capitao 
Mor of this district. This man had been educated at Tete and 
spoke Portuguese fluently. As he was just starting for his own 
town near the junction of the Luia and Mazoe rivers, and asked 
us to accompany him, we gladly did so, and on the following 
day about noon arrived there. All this part of the country, 
lying in the angle between the Luia and Mazoe rivers, is broken 
and hilly, very dry and barren, water being very scarce and bad. 

Joao's town was well built and very strongly stockaded. 
He gave us a large roomy shed in which to sleep, and put our 
things. On our way here we passed the pit where his people 
obtained water. It was a well quite thirty feet in depth, dug 
in the bed of a dry creek, and it took us exactly fifty minutes 
to walk from this well to the village. Even at the bottom of 
the well there was very little water, and it had to be ladled out 
in cupfuls. Altogether it must have been a four or five hours' 
job for the women every day to walk to the well, get their 
pots full of water, and carry them home again. The name of 
Joao's village was Maramba. From this village we got guides 
to Sanyara's, who is a sister of Joao

divendres, 4 de juliol del 2014

LAVAR OS PÉS PASSAVA POR VAIDADE .....ANTES DO EXAME OS ESTUDANTES OUVIAM MISSA E COMUNGAVAM PRONUNCIANDO DEPOIS UMA ORAÇÃO LATINA, EM QUE JURAVAM DEFENDER O MYSTERIO DA IMMACULADA CONCEIÇÃO Por consequência se eu vejo que a primeira aptidão profissional dum homem de letras é fazer ás ideias a toilette d'estylo que melhor lhes vae, se eu por exemplo tenho para descrever o campo, um vocabulário especial e rythmos próprios, e outro vocabulário e outro rythmo para contar por exemplo as desgraças dum mendigo, e successivamente assim té aos assumptos onde a ironia se transforma em chicote e a indignação chufa da boca as insolências grosseiras do desprezo, como é que os meus censores exigem que eu escreva em estylo nobre, se muitos dos meus assumptos dos Gatos são trazidos a publico numa intenção de satyra candente, e se da própria torpeza delles brotam a deletéria tessitura e o estylo mal creado e por vezes obsceno das objurgatorias com que os trato ? Não querem entender esses asnos que a linguagem de pamphleto não se fez para pessoas sexuaes, e que a única formula jornalística capaz de, á hora presente, ferir fundo, deve ser aquella que esbofeteie a hypocrisia infame da sociedade egoista e siphilitica que nos cerca.

O público entre nós não divinisa senão fabricantes de grandes calhamaços (critério natural num paiz onde a leitura é toda de lombadas ), e mesmo que eu fizesse naquelles pobres bocados, maravilhas, passaria sempre por um chronista aguado das futilidades mansas do meu tempo. 

Resignar-me-hei calado ao veredicto tanto mais sendo elle, quasi por completo, verdadeiro, mas explicando sempre que quem não aufere, como eu, dinheiros do Estado, e tem de ganhar o seu pão dia por dia, não pode senão produzir minuscularias literárias, obrinhas de fácil curso, pagas aos quinze tostões. 

Deus sabe quando, e escritas sabe Deus em que disposições de cabeça e de barriga! A cada instante abordam-me os ingénuos — mas porque não escreve você um livro  inteiro? 

um grande romance, um grande quadro critico ? . . . 

 Imaginam que esses trabalhos se abordam com a inconsequência e a rapidez de vinte ou trinta paginas; mal comprehendem que sejam precisos longos mezes d'estudo, annos de concentração, paciências benedictinas de factura; 

e durante todo esse tempo quem é que garante ao desprovido escritor, o passadio....

dimarts, 1 de juliol del 2014

UMA VELHA A MICAS TRAPEIRA CONDOEU-SE DELAS (DAS GAIATAS) RECOLHEU-AS NO SEU ANTRO ASCOROSO (ASQUEROSO) MAS VIU TAMBÉM QUE ELAS TALVEZ FOSSEM UNS BONS TRAPOS PARA VENDER

GABIRÚ ESTICOU NAS UNHAS DUMA PENOSA ( A VIÚVA MATOU O CHULO)

AS RAMEIRAS LAMENTAVAM A TRISTE SORTE DAQUELE GAJO REINADIO

PUNHAM A ROSA NA LAMA, SAFADA E MERECEDORA DE GROSSA QUEIJADA NO DIA

DO JULGAMENTO ( GRANDE PENA DO TAL CÓDIGO DITO PENAL....

O MALANDRÃO NAS PEDRAS DA MORGUE ERA RETALHADO COMO UM PÔRCO

E, DIAS DEPOIS, DENTRO DE UM ESQUIFE

DEIXAVA A SALSICHARIA DAS BROXAS PARA SER LANÇADO À VALA

VÁRIOS FADISTÕES O ACOMPANHARAM

QUEM QUER COMER FOSSA ( TRABALHA ...ROUBA ...LIMPA OS FRUTOS À TERRA

QUEM NÃO QUER FOSSAR LIXA-SE....

CÁ O PALÁCIO NÃO SERVE PARA MANDÚS

AMANHÃ ÀS 5 TOCA A PÉ...ALCÔFAS E GANCHOS E COM AQUELA FERRAMENTA

VÃO APRENDER A ARTE ( A ARTE DOS GAMAS ...GAMAR

 ATÉ ROUBAR O LIXO DOS OUTROS GAMANDO OS RESTOS DOS OUTROS ....ENFIM

ROUBAR OU ANDAR NA GANDAIA É FAZER POLÍTICA POR OUTROS MEIOS....

NOS CAIXOTES TUDO VALIA DINHEIRO, PAPÉIS, TRAPOS, RÔLHAS, FÔLHAS DE

HORTALIÇA ....QUANDO CAIA CALÇADO VELHO ERA UM GRANDE DIA...

RESTOS DE COMIDA ERA UM ALMOÇO DE CHUPÊTA

GALINHAS MORTAS RENDIAM UMA FORTUNA

ESCALDAVAM-SE, DEPENAVAM-SE VENDIAM-SE DEPOIS EM CERTAS CASAS

AOS MIUDOS....

ERA UMA BELEZA

-QUEREM VER QUE AS TINHOSAS SE FAZEM ESQUERDAS

SÓ O RAIO DA EDADE É QUE ME TRAMA, QUANDO TINHA A VOSSA IDADE O CORDEL

SEMPRE CORRIA ( CORDEL...O ARAME...O GUITO....O CHUMARÉ...O COBRE....ENFIM

O DINHEIRO AQUILO COM QUE SE COMPRA OS MELÕES....

AGORA RECEBIA O BAGO E QUANDO CALHAVA UM COPINHO DA RIJA...

NÃO ATURAVA PATRÕES E INDA JUNTAVA UNS CARCANHOES

ESSAS CAGONAS QUE AÍ BEM ARREADAS PERTENCEM A VÁRIOS DONOS, MAS

NÃO SE RALAM

TRINCAM DO MELHOR, VESTEM BEM, CORNEIAM TODOS, FAZEM UM VISTÃO.

O CORPINHO É UM NEGOCIO COMO OUTRO QUALQUER

A MAIS NOVA POR SER MAIS ALEGRE ERA A AREIAS A OUTRA MAIS CARITATIVA

ERA A SANTOLAS

SE LAVASSEM O FOCINHO, FIZESSEM UMA RUSGA ÀS PULGAS

USASSEM UMAS FRALDAS SEM CAGADELAS DE PULGAS...

O BEZUGO, ESSE JULIO FILHO DUMA VARINA ANDA CHEIO DE VONTADE

DE SE ATRACAR À AREIAS....

 OUVISSEM CANTAR A EMÍLIA CIGARREIRA, O TÔRTO, O PIRÃO

 DEPOIS CARAGO QUANDO VINHA O GADO BRAVO

A MICAS DEU PARTE DO CASO AOS PRETENDENTES

QUE LHE PAGARAM UMAS BÓBIDAS E PROMETERAM 100 PALHAÇOS

QUANDO AS FÚFIAS FOSSEM AO CASTIGO....

FAZIA LIXO NA NAVALHA ....