13.6.26
1984
Dragons
Trump nation
Noise pollution
11.6.26
A country of illiterates
To be a scholar in Brazil mean to be poor, even a beggar. The university today doesn't have endemic unrest. The "nation" don't see the studies as a key factor in development.
The Words
The book of imaginary beings
10.6.26
A country of illiterates
A country of illiterates
9.6.26
Tropic of Capricorn
Justice
The country of illiterates
A country of illiterates
A country of illiterates
8.6.26
The country of illiterates
The city of exclusion
Porto Alegre is making the invention of a new class of poor and it will take one a new definition of poverty.
A country of illiterates
Why we must disestablish school
A country of illiterates
7.6.26
The city of exclusion
The historical process of socio-spatial segregation, gentrification and inequality in Porto Alegre it's scary.
Planet of slum
Planet of slum
Planet of slum
Would you care to take a look a book?
The Spider
The Authors of Tales of Terror
6.6.26
Dracula
A country of illiterates
5.6.26
A country of illiterates
A country of illiterates
A country of illiterates
4.6.26
Deutsche Hörer!
3.6.26
A country of illiterates
The perversity in power
Herschel at the Cape
He will write with a pen.
He will write with light.
* *
1833: two months at sea.
Ashore, he notes
the mackerel drift of cloud.
His telescope stands in an orchard.
* *
Double star and double star.
He fixes the next nebula.
He rummages and sweeps.
He polishes the mirror.
* *
He cooks an egg in the sun
then moves on to mutton.
He studies tides, yet thinks time flies.
He loses the morning looking for a key.
He measures Alpha Centauri.
* *
Now he robs the wilds of lovely flowers.
He draws an outline and his wife paints in.
He shoots a few brown birds –
yellow beneath their tails –
then watches his children gather cones,
sketching until the Cape light fails.
Often he completes the background
but leaves the foreground empty...
Double star and double star –
a blank space, then a cluster.
* *
He studies sun-spots.
The milk-boy steals the Beef.
He imitates the calls of birds.
He mistakes a cluster for a comet.
He makes another sweep.
* *
And snakes attack, and dogs,
and purgatorial rats, and fleas.
There are coughs and colds
and a face-ache called the Sinkings.
And glorious nights, pure and clear
double star and double star
and sometimes such ill-adapted air
that the stars swell out and waver.
* *
Also he studies weather.
His study is unroofed by wind.
Double star and double star.
He dismisses a carpenter.
He repairs a barometer.
* *
He will propose the contact lens
and study colour blindness.
He will talk of snap-shot and of negative.
He will translate the Iliad.
He will be Master of the Mint.
He will invent the blueprint.
But at present he arranges stars.
* *
He also evaporates the juice of figs.
He is quick in motion and in speech.
He draws a sudden gale.
He writes with the Anglo-Saxon thorn.
He digs in the earth. He does reductions.
He loves his wife and children.
He makes a zone and sweeps the sky.
And people with wings are walking on the moon!
(A hoax.) He is pestered in several languages.
He is modest, he is shy.
Halley can sometimes make him sigh...
it steals his sweeps, and makes him slow...
He uses the camera lucida.
He translates Michelangelo.
* *
Four years at the Cape...
we hear his happiness from afar.
Of Saturn’s sixth, uncertain moon,
he writes to his aunt with an italic shout:
‘So this is at last a thing made out.’
* *
Double star and double star.
Winter and summer.
* *
Double star and double star.
He polishes the mirror.
2.6.26
A country of illiterates
Full Moon
1.6.26
Autumn
I walked abroad,
Troilus and Cressida
The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre
Observe degree, priority, and place,
Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
Office, and custom, in all line of order;
And therefore is the glorious planet Sol
In noble eminence enthroned and sphered
Amidst the other; whose med’cinable eye
Corrects the influence of evil planets,
And posts like the commandment of a king,
Sans check to good and bad. But when the planets
In evil mixture to disorder wander,
What plagues, and what portents, what mutiny,
What raging of the sea, shaking of earth,
Commotion in the winds, frights, changes, horrors,
Divert and crack, rend and deracinate
The unity and married calm of states
Quite from their fixure! O, when degree is shaked,
Which is the ladder of all high designs,
The enterprise is sick! How could communities,
Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities,
Peaceful commerce from dividable shores,
The primogeniture and due of birth,
Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels,
But by degree stand in authentic place?
Take but degree away, untune that string,
And hark what discord follows.
Beautiful mind
Modern Painters
Remembering Richard Feynman
The beauty that is there for you is also available for me, too. But I see a deeper beauty that isn't so readily available to others. I can see the complicated interactions of the flower. The color of the flower is red. Does the fact that the plant has color mean that it evolved to attract insects? This adds a further question. Can insects see color? Do they have an aesthetic sense? And so on I don't see how studying a flower ever detracts from its beauty. It only adds.
31.5.26
Hymn of hate against the intellectuals
On Giants' Shoulders
A country of illiterates
30.5.26
A country of illiterates
Don't worry be happy
The new creationism
A country of illiterates
On the Origin of Species
Poet and the city
29.5.26
Strange other world
Passion
Waiting for the longed-for voice to speak
Then the sky spoke to me in language clear,





















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