3.2.26
Human, All Too Human
2.2.26
Heavy Metal is the law
1.2.26
Heavy Metal is the law
31.1.26
Youthful charm of science
Pleasure in knowledge
Heavy Metal is the law
Future of science
30.1.26
Manners
A formação social da mente
29.1.26
Estrutura
Londres e Paris no século XIX: o espetáculo da pobreza
28.1.26
Circular orbit fo humanity
27.1.26
Renaissance and reformation
26.1.26
Reasons judged a posteriori on the basis of consequences
History of modern art
The voice of history
In the proximity of madness
25.1.26
Miraculous education
A Carcass
My love, do you recall the object which we saw,
That fair, sweet, summer morn!
At a turn in the path a foul carcass
On a gravel strewn bed,
Its legs raised in the air, like a lustful woman,
Burning and dripping with poisons,
Displayed in a shameless, nonchalant way
Its belly, swollen with gases.
The sun shone down upon that putrescence,
As if to roast it to a turn,
The elements she had combined;
And the sky was watching that superb cadaver
Blossom like a flower.
So frightful was the stench that you believed
You'd faint away upon the grass.
The blow-flies were buzzing round that putrid belly,
From which came forth black battalions
Of maggots, which oozed out like a heavy liquid
All along those living tatters.
All this was descending and rising like a wave,
Or poured out with a crackling sound;
One would have said the body, swollen with a vague breath,
Lived by multiplication.
And this world gave forth singular music,
Like running water or the wind,
Or the grain that winnowers with a rhythmic motion
Shake in their winnowing baskets.
The forms disappeared and were no more than a dream,
A sketch that slowly falls
Upon the forgotten canvas, that the artist
Completes from memory alone.
Crouched behind the boulders, an anxious dog
Watched us with angry eye,
Waiting for the moment to take back from the carcass
The morsel he had left.
— And yet you will be like this corruption,
Like this horrible infection,
Star of my eyes, sunlight of my being,
You, my angel and my passion!
Yes! thus will you be, queen of the Graces,
After the last sacraments,
When you go beneath grass and luxuriant flowers,
To molder among the bones of the dead.
Then, O my beauty! say to the worms who will
Devour you with kisses,
That I have kept the form and the divine essence
Of my decomposed love!
Letter
Woman and child
A male sickness - For the male sickness of self-contempt the surest cure is to be loved by a clever woman.
The desire to become loved - Engaged people who have been brought together by convenience often strive to become loved, so as to do away with the reproach of acting out of cold, calculating utility. Those who have adopted christianity for the sake advantage likewise strive to become genuinely devout; it makes the religious pantomime easier for them.
Too close
Porque não me ufano
24.1.26
Reflections on the overthrow of Communism
Communism, ladies and gentlemen, in Eastern Europe brought land reform and human services a dramatic bettering of the living conditions of hundreds of millions of people on a scale never before or never since witnessed in human history and that's something to appreciate. Communism transformed desperately poor countries into societies in which everyone had adequate food, shelter, medical care and education and some of us who come from poor families who carry around the hidden injuries of classes are very impressed by these achievements and are not willing to dismiss them as economistic to say that socialism doesn't work is to overlook the fact that it did work and it worked for hundreds of millions of people.
The un-Hellenic in Christianity
Uccellacci e uccellini
23.1.26
Capitalis system to enslave everyone
Amerikkka
Porque não me ufano
Erscheinung
Holy Horrors
22.1.26
A lenta flecha da beleza
Necessário
A que preço se compra as vantagens da vida social?
New York Times Book Review | 1974
21.1.26
To the Finland Station
19.1.26
Cobra Norato
They’re studying geometry
A lonely frog calls rain
Little river goes to school
He’s learning geography
Toads spell out the laws of the jungle
I hear cat soul mew in the woods
When Tincuã cuckoos it’s a bad omen...
18.1.26
17.1.26
A life in writing: Fiona MacCarthy (1940 - 2020)
16.1.26
On the future of our educational institutions
15.1.26
O enfraquecimento dos diplomas
Porque não me ufano
Historia
Reader, come home

14.1.26
Christianity and antiquity
When on a Sunday morning we hear the bells ringing we ask ourselves: is it possible! this is going on because of a Jew crucified 2000 years ago who said the was the son of god. The proof of suche an assertion is lacking. - In the content of our age the christian religion is certainly a piece of antiquity intruding out of distant age past, and that the above-mentioned assertion is believed - while one is otherwise so rigorous in the testing of claims - is perhaps the most ancient piece of this inheritance. A god who begets children on a mortal woman; a sage who calls upon us no longer to work, no longer to sit in judgement, but to heed the signs of the imminent end of the world; a justice which accepts an innocent man as a substitute sacrifice; someone who bids his disciples drink his blood; prayers for miraculou interventions; sin perpetrated against a god atoned for by a god; fear of a Beyond to which death is the gateway; the figure of the cross as a symbol in a age which no longer knows the meaning and shame of the cross - how gruesomely all this is wafted to us, as if out of the grave of a primeval past! Can one believe that things of this sort are still believed in?

































