Thursday, February 23, 2006

www.tb.com.pt

A third generation condo...

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Carnaval Rio 06


Dear Partners: I am leaving tonight for some well deserved rest in Rio. I will try to make a fool of myself and promise to report all details. In the meanwhile, I leave you with a picture of the "fantasia" I will be wearing...

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Love that guy

Grizzly man is in the mail as we speak - sweet Netflix is bringing it home to me.

that guys is awsome - I love that it was an insignificant bullet... that's what my buddy Chenney has been saying all along... it's just a little pellet in the guy's face.

el greco

ps: gabral some day you will be that cool - bleeding in your boxer shorts, getting shot at, and continue interviewing as if you were eating sweet pasteis de nata in belem.

DEADPAN GERMAN SHOT!

HOLLYWOOD - German director Werner Herzog was shot by a crazed fan during a recent interview with the BBC.

The 63-year-old was chatting with movie journalist Mark Kermode about his documentary Grizzly Man, when a sniper opened fire with an air rifle.

Kermode explains, "I thought a firecracker had gone off.

"Herzog, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, said, 'Oh, someone is shooting at us. We must go.'

"He had a bruise the size of a snooker ball, with a hole in. He just carried on with the interview while bleeding quietly in his boxer shorts."

An unrepentant Herzog insisted, "It was not a significant bullet. I am not afraid."

Joj needs a new car for lisbon
















Full moon over....

Gorgeous

Iam ready to replace the painting in my dining room

ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC! :) Luv, Proud Mom

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Monday, February 13, 2006

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Alex, my position re. indian pop does not reflect my new-found reactionarism but rather my new-found quiet desperation*: the whole human species is in danger of extinction, so why privilege a few that were more decimated than others by homo rapiens, in a spurious attempt to save them?

* In Walden (1854), Henry David Thoreau describes his two years of life alone at Walden Pond in Massachusetts. He recounts his daily life in the woods and celebrates nature and the individual’s ability to live independently of society. A famous line from the book is Thoreau’s statement that “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.”
Encontro das Aguas, where the Rios Negro and Solimoes meet outside Manaus to form the Rio Amazonas. As one is black and the other is brown, we clearly see where the two rivers meet.


The Joj and her crew next to her hydroplane. The pilot is the first on the right.

The reception committee asking for bala (candy). The nurse told us that those without contact with outside communities did not have any caries though...

The human body drying

The Cacique's wife and her 14 children. She claimed to have an indigenous prescription similar to Viagra. Several mission members showed a keen interest.




The Joj's hydroplane - a nice smooth ride with a cool GIS.











View of the Rio Negro


Farewell to Encontro das Aguas

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

My latest creative writing class assignment

The gymnast comes in rolling a medicinal cart towards the narcoleptic. The narcoleptic quickly takes the cart carting it down the hallway. The faint wail of the racist cockney can be heard. Running swiftly in his vasolined pennyloafers the narcoleptic enters a power slide with the medicinal cart in hand into the racist cockney’s room. ‘Are you ready for your enima?’. The racist cockney looks pleased. The narcoleptic bends below the massive neckbrace supporting the racist cockney in midair and inserts the miniature caffeine missile into her buttocks.
Back in a powerslide through the hallway the narcoleptic can hear his next patient’s wail and continues his high-speed slide down the linoleum floorway. The accelerated beeps of the heart-rate-monitors Doppler past the narcoleptics hearing range. Shifting his weight onto his right penny loafer he eases his slide into a medium turn and enters the sexy nun’s room. ‘Are you ready for your flush?’ She looks pleased. The racist cockney somehow has eased herself out of her neck brace and is there holding the gymnast’s hand with the narcoleptic’s mother standing behind them.
The narcoleptic feels at ill ease, now confronted with the grim situation. He cups his hand by the sexy nun’s ear and yells ‘So rude of them to intrude at this time’. The sexy nun wonders if it is important. The narcoleptic attempts to make a dashing exit, but the racist cockney, the gymnast, and his mother are blocking the door. He makes a bellyflop leap onto the ground bellysliding in between the three sets of legs. Sliding down the hallway, now on his stomach, the narcoleptic is pleased. He gives into his ailment and falls asleep.
He awakes smoking a cigarette while pleasantly peering at the pin-ups on his wall. Realizing he has just woken from a narcoleptic lapse the narcoleptic rolls off of his bed and continues his bellyslide escape back into the sexy nun’s room, which gladly is no longer occupied by the racist cockney, the gymnast and his mother. The sexy nun is at least three times smaller than before and complains of her vertigo. She loses balance and falls onto the ground breaking it and falling into the basement. A very sharp crayon enters the room and peers down into the hole in the ground. It suggests to the narcoleptic that they get her back up. It seems a very long way down to the narcoleptic. Sensing the narcoleptic’s hesitation the crayon dives into the basement where it lands in between the sexy nun’s legs. The sexy nun screams out in dismay ‘BUT MY FLUSH’. The narcoleptic senses his patient’s distress and leaps down with a pocket douche in hand.
Embarrassed, the very sharp crayon feels like it could die. The narcoleptic tries to calm everyone down. The gymnast comes down the ladder supporting the medicinal cart on the back of her neck and shoulders. The basement smells and the narcoleptic thinks about how thinking of the stars always makes him fall asleep. The narcoleptic falls asleep. The very sharp crayon takes advantage of the distraction and slyly wiggles into the sexy nun. The gymnast screams at the sight causing the nun to scream and they both die. They very sharp crayon wiggles back out of the sexy nun’s corpse and is confronted with the racist cockney and the narcoleptic’s mother peering down the hole in the ceiling. Sensing he has done something wrong the crayon begins rubbing himself violently against the wall into oblivion. The racist cockney and the narcoleptic’s mother climb down the ladder into the basement. They peer up at the hole in the ceiling and are blinded by the light of God. They wish they could disappear like the crayon. Four men dressed like insurance fraud investigators come down through the light of God.
The basement, with no windows, the racist cockney, the narcoleptic’s mother, and the sleeping narcoleptic and now four insurance fraud investigators is getting very hot. Trying to please the insurance fraud investigators the racist cockney takes a miniature pug out of his pocket and stands it on his palm. The pug asks the insurance fraud investigators,‘What do you want?’. One insurance fraud investigator whispers to the others, ‘They think we’re halfwits.’ ‘They do, they think we’re halfwits.’ Another responds. ‘Yes, halfwits.’ ‘Well they got something else coming.’ ‘Tell the dog to tell them we won’t talk to a dog.’
The insurance fraud investigator tells the pug to tell the racist cockney and the narcoleptic’s mother that they won’t talk to the dog.
The dog is not pleased and whispers to the racist cockney that they should leave. The racist cockney takes a deep breath and runs backward into the wall. He tells the pug ‘No good.’ The narcoleptic is not too pleased to wake up in this kind of atmosphere and wishes he could die. He notices the hole in the ceiling and remembers the sexy nun. The pug barks leading a great dane and a shitzu to leap into the room. The sight of all the dogs makes one of the insurance fraud investigators feel like he is going to die. The narcoleptic is not too pleased there are so many rotting corpses in the room. The dogs chase each other around the room yelping slurs at each other. The narcoleptic is not too pleased.
A barrage of water blows in through the hole in the ceiling causing the basement to flood. Everyone is still wading waist deep. The narcoleptic and his mother are not too pleased. The pug and the shitzu hump each other to death. The narcoleptic tries the walk away from the situation and hits his foot on a box. Rolling up his sleeves he reaches into the water and moves the box to the side. He tries to walk again and hits a smaller box. He reaches down and tries to move the box. It is too small to get a good grip so he gives up. He does not feel pleased at all. The water seemed to be rising. The light of God floods the room. It makes the room hotter which is all the less pleasing. Thankfully it exits back through the ceiling. The narcoleptic’s mother comments on how dark it is. An insurance fraud investigator suggests centipedes are the cause of the awful smell. A light drizzle falls from the hole in the ceiling. The great dane barely can hold his head above the water and unaware that the insurance fraud investigators aren’t talking to dogs confesses to them that he doesn’t know how to swim. The insurance fraud investigators do not respond to the Great Dane making him not all too pleased. Salmon are swimming all in one direction producing a violent undertow. The insurance fraud investigators immediately realize the predicament and unanimously agree that this can’t be allowed to go on. ‘THIS CAN’T GO ON!’ they exclaim. The undertow calms.
Four poets make their way down the ladder on top of each others shoulders breaking each step as they come down. They begin muttering to each other about how dreadful of a situation this is while groping each others buttocks. The insurance fraud investigators open their trenchcoats allowing two more investigators out. An old nun is in the corner asking god for a miracle. Four sexy nuns enter. The basement is crowded and hot. The narcoleptic is displeased he cannot fall asleep standing up. A box of crayons comes in. They begin drawing a sunset on the wall but it is too dark to see. Dull from work and uneasy that they will go unrecognized the crayons panic they might not be seen as useful. The black crayon did not draw the sunset and is still quite sharp.
Everyone is very quiet. The great dane is hungry and says ‘Arf’.
It is a difficult time for everyone. The poets have taken each other’s pants off and are spreading each other’s cheeks. Everyone suspects. The four poets each bend over in a circle pressing their ears to each other’s sphincters and listen. Everyone is very quiet. One of the poets farts and another giggles. The other two poets were not pleased they were not farting and laughing. A few minutes passed and none of the poets farted. It was not a very pleasing few minutes.
It was slow and everyone began sweating. There was so much humidity from the sweat that the crayon’s sunset drawing melted away. It was still and dark. The drizzle from above made the water a few inches higher. The only part of the Great Dane still above water was his nose. The insurance fraud investigators were very pleased. One of the poets still bent over is letting a very small shit out. The small shit sinks to the bottom and rests on top of the corpse of the sexy nun. The three other poets all begin claping.
The old nun drowns when the internal combustion engine falls from the hole in the ceiling causing a great splash in the water getting everyone wet. The three clapping poets clap themselves to death. At their funeral there is a seal balancing a red ball with a blue star on its nose. No one is pleased.

Alex stories

Meus queridos:

Estou em Jo Burg, a espera da ligacao para Accra.

Desta vez nao deixei perder a mala de vista. Levantei-a ao chegar e voltei a despacha-la no SAA.

O retiro em Livingstone foi muito interessante. Deram-nos tres cenarios do mundo em 2020 e pediram-nos para pensar nos problemas e nas oportunidades dos tres cenarios para a Africa. Depois dos desafios dos tres cenarios para o Banco, em estrategias de adaptacao, dos novos instrumentos que teriamos que desenvolver, do pessoal que teriamos que recrutar... Muito Harvard Business School... julgo que o Andre teria brilhado mais do que qualquer de nos... A proposito, Gabriel, ja pensaste em ir para a HBS e tornares-te num novo Saatchi?

Nos intervalos das sessoes ha um ir e vir de contactos paralelos com os Directores de Pais, os Directores de Sector, a Chefe de Pessoal, o Director de Financas... Pedidos, influencias, charmes, e remoques...

Numa das noites tivemos a nossa tradicional peca de teatro, escrita por um dos directores e desempenhada por alguns de nos. Costuma ser muito divertida. Este ano foi a melhor de sempre, talvez porque ha muito tema com a chegada do novo Presidente PW e do seu sequito de falcoes e falcoas do Pentagono e do GOP.

Esta deve ter sido o ultimo retiro realizado num dos paises Africanos. O sequito, mais exactamente a "Richelieu"do PW, chamada Robin Cleveland, nao gosta de tantos gastos e deu ordem para que cessassem festas de Natal e retiros em lugares exoticos. De agora para diante teremos que nos reunir no YMCA. Mas foi um bom fecho. As cataratas sao majestosas e o hotel muito comfortavel. Nos ultimos anos fomos ao Mount Kenya Country Club, a George (na Africa do Sul), a Sali (no Senegal) a Zanzibar.

aa senior

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Happy B-Day Oncle Henry !!!! :)

and some of your B-day colleagues...

1608 - Antonio Vieira, Portuguese writer
1665 - Queen Anne of England
1756 - Aaron Burr, Vice President of the United States
1892 - William Parry Murphy, American physician, recipient of the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine
1911 - Ronald Reagan, 40th President of the United States
1912 - Eva Braun, German mistress of Adolf Hitler
1913 - Mary Leakey, British anthropologist
1917 - Zsa Zsa Gabor, Hungarian actress
1932 - François Truffaut, French film director
1945 - Bob Marley, Jamaican singer and musician
1949 - Jim Sheridan, Irish film director
1950 - Natalie Cole, American singer
Sweeties, you are hilarious... and good luck for your numerous ventures and interviews. Hey, Oncle Henry's B-day is tomorrow February 6.

PS. Yes, that's my naninni purse, which by the way got ruined on the Amazonian trip. Tch, tchh!...

GABRAL FOUND ALIVE .... STILL!

Hey guys, Still chugging along here, all is well, fixed my motorbike finally, it had been inside of my room for the past month completly dissasembled about four feet in the air. School is going well, since there is not much of it. Alex, I need your digital camera, I am trying hard to visually document my life to post on the blog but my roomates cameras dont work on my computer.
In other news, I have started a band with friends, I wouldnt call it so much music as noise, I play the amplified distorted electric mandolin, which sounds like a supersonic jet, Alex plays the keyboards, Jennifer guitar, Katie plays everything.
In breaking news, I have a resume (the only thing on it is portrait painter), and surprisingly enough I actually got a job. I got an internship payed by cooper to work for an independent director. His name is Michael Almereyda and he has made contemporary vampire movies/ a contemporary version of Hamlet with Ethan Hawke, and a variety of other films. He is buddy-buddy with David Lynch who produced and funded the vampire movie. I am this guy's editor for a super artsy film he is making. I have to edit and assemble 90 hours of video footage this guy has privately shot around the world for the past 10 years, to make a sort of dream-globalization-poetic world trip documentary... So that should be pretty awesome, I met with the guy and went to the office where I will be editing, It is in a fancy building downtown on the fourteenth floor and I sit in front of my apple flat-screen display with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the entire city.
In other breaking news, I finally have a second job. I have started an internship at a punk-porno company as an editor and they seem optimistic about me writing and directing one of their movies, and most importantly they dont limit their hard-core to sex, but also have hard-core punk noise music. Maybe my band can be a featured in their movies. I'll spare the blog the infamy of having a link to the company, but trust me, it is pretty funny. I am trying to propose we do an adaptation of Bataille's story of the eye or the Story of O.
I have been writing some scripts and am deciding to have my 20 thesis movies be 9-11 themed. we will see if I can get actors from my new job to act in it.
In latest breaking news - I have cleaned my room.

muchos besos, miss you guys

PS. joj- the purse on the missile is hilarious.

Is that your purse resting on the missile?

Awesome

jojo - very cool. I like the pics of jojo with the 'commandante' - looks like fine company for you.

the plane looks awesome as well.

now to more technical matters - what kind of military paints flowers on the side of their military vehicles? I know painting your face works against the wild animals in the amazon, but in modern warfare, I'm not sure it helps.

in reference to blog problems - i haven't encountered any problems opening the blog from this side so i'm not sure what the problem is... maybe the brazilians have also worked out an agreement with google to prevent the viewing of certain content. luso-american blogging about revolutionary topics such as the world-wide turn towards cold blooded capitalism may be too dangerous.

i have an interview tomorrow, two or three on tuesday, two on wednesday, and if I get passed on to the next round (not that simple), I will have some more interviews on thursday and friday.

i will let you guys know

gabral got a job - he's a working man - he will have a paycheck - cut his allowance immediately.

alex, news on portugal?
can you give us a bit of info about life where you are, business opportunities, and cell phone usage?

el greco

Joj and the Comandante of her Tomahawk somewhere in the Amazonia jungle.



Jojo getting into her Tomahawk. Under the hat is Maria Louise.

Dr Livingstone, I presume...




Dear partners, here I am in my birth land, just in front of the Victoria Falls. Magnificent. Taller, but narrower than the Iguacu Falls in Brazil.

I am here for the annual meeting of all WB managers for Africa. The exercise will consist of setting three different world scenarios and for us to anticipate what Africa could adapt or take advantage of such scenarios, and how the WB could help the process.

The trip was long and tiring, but the destination is worth it. My luggage went astray. Hope I will recover it tomorrow.

Talk to you later

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Greco, what's up with the blog as I can't open it? Offensive stuff?!!!

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Gabral and Phantasy

Phat boy - seriously, the reason we don't need surrealism is because reality is so good.

I can't wait for the time - and the time will eventually arrive - when you come around to my view of things. Remember, the older bro is always right. Isn't there some rule about that? Respect your elders or something like that. Reality is too good to make up sci-fi.

I learned some awesome things today:

1. the communists only had pepsi - no coke. did you know that? coke was too closely associated with 'americana' and so pepsi became the popular carbonated soda in russia. some kid in my class from kazakistan says he had never had coke until he come to the states - that is awesome. imagine discovering coke for the first time - hidden from you for half your life. as a side note, the average consumer in the united states drinks over 60 gallons of coke a year. also, over 50% of coke sales are consumed by people who drink 6 or more cans of soda per day. that means, that about 50 people in the country consume the large majority of soda on the planet. that is also awesome.

2. greenspan is gone today and the sky didn't fall. that is awesome. i have been taking my macro class at school and the general take of what we've learned is that the global financial system more or less has rested on good ol' Al's every move for the past 20 years. not sure if that is 'fair and balanced' (fox's motto) but it sounds reasonable to me. we also learned that the major 'controversy' between him and the new guy (bernanke) is a philosophy difference of....... wait for it... yes, it took a team of 20 PhD's from Harvard (a few princeton guys too) to come up with this one... targeting and admiting it, or targeting and insinuating it. That is also awesome. The major, huge mega battle is - we have a target, everyone knows we have a target, millions of dollars are made and lost every day as people try to 'guess' what our new target is going to be, then we insinuate what it is, people figure out what it is, but we never say what it is, even though we signal that they are right, and then say we don't have a target. that is awesome. the guy wants to just tell them. i think it's probably a bad idea - it could turn everything on it's head. some say he's just trying to assert his authority or power in telling them. what do you guys think?

3. W said he doesn't like oil last night. W said he doesn't like oil! he was like, yo, this is a total waste of our time, we ought to be searching for renewable sources of energy. this oil thing is so over - someone needs to tell Michael Moore that his theory that we went to war because of oil is TOTALLY invalidated. W just said it, he's not down with oil.

4. Cavaco Silva won the election. yes, I know this is a bit late - and no, parents don't worry. I do pay a little attention of what goes on in the smallest country on the planet. i have nothing to say about the election because it is meaningless, except for one thing. the guy's name is cavaco. that is awesome. i will name my first born child after him.

alright, out from boston...

E.G.

Bye bye Stockholm. CU in London

I am at Arland airport on the way to London.

The meeting went well. It was organized by Jeffrey Sachs, to advocate on behalf of scaling up for malaria control as well as for looking back at what they call the neglected tropical diseases, which together kill, disfigure and disable more people than malaria, and have an economic impact second only to HIV. Among those are horrible diseases such as onchocerciasis (river blindness), lymphatic leishmaniosis (elephantiasis), schistosomiasis and intestinal worms. His purpose is to help 10 African countries be more successful in accessing available funding and in opening silly blocks (such as procurement) which make it difficult for them to use the funds when they have them. It went well. The Bank is one of Jeffrey's pet hates, but we did not get much grief this time, I guess because we have just launched the Malaria Booster Program (by the way, it was born in AFTH2, the unit I manage. Hope you accept a little show of feathers...).

The meeting took place at the Karolinska Institute, in the Nobel Forum, in the very room where the members of the Nobel committee gather for selecting the lucky few. The KI is the crown jewel of Nordic medical research and development.

I had little time to see the city, for lack of time and for inclement weather. This morning, however, I had a couple of hours to look around the center. The sun was timid,low rising but shining. A lot of the ice over the waterways had melted and therefore the walk was beautiful. The most impressive things are the waterways which you run into everywhere and the beautiful earthy colors they apply on buldings. The old town is charming, but small. Moneo build the Modern Art Museum, but I was not very impressed. The city is very pedestrian friendly and civic behavior is very obvious. Waiters are efficient, but cold, almost unfriendly for those used to 'may name is Sue Ellen and I am your waiter for tonight*... Food is good, although almost any sauce has sugar in it, which the Portuguese palate is not very used to. The hotel was very comfortable and techno filled, with free wireless everywhere. The cleaning crew was not Salvadoran ... but Thay instead. It is actually impressive how diverse the population is, I guess after many years of welcoming political and economic refugees from developing nations.

Prices are outrageous, but the difference with Portuguese and US prices are now less marked than they used to be. Sweden is in the EU, but like the UK did not join the Euro. Having to make the conversion is a nuisance and I wonder whether they are doing better than other comparable countries which joined the Euro. Uncle Manel, what is your take?