sábado, agosto 24, 2002

TRUGANINI
Truganini was a famous Tasmanian Aborigine.

In her lifetime, she saw her people decimated by murder and disease but refused to be a passive victim.

Her strength and determination persist today within the Palawah people who have lived in the region for over thirty thousand years.

In 1803 the first white settlers arrived in Tasmania, or Van Diemen's Land as it was known then, and began clearing and farming the land.

Over four thousand Aborigines lived in Tasmania too. Fighting began and continued for many years and hundreds of Aborigines and Europeans were killed.

It was during this turmoil that Truganini was born, around 1812, in the Bruny Island-D'Entrecasteaux Channel area of Tasmania.

She was a vibrant and beautiful girl whose father was an elder of the south-east tribe.

By the time Truganini was 17 her mother was murdered by whalers, her sister abducted and shot by sealers and her husband-to-be murdered by timber fellers. Truganini was raped.

By 1830 the fighting was so widespread it was known as the 'Black War' and something had to be done to stop the killing.

So colonial authorities appointed George Augustus Robinson, a builder and untrained preacher to mount a 'Friendly Mission' to find the three hundred remaining Aborigines who were deep in the Tasmanian bushland.

His job was to convince the Aboriginal people to move to a nearby island.

When Truganini and her father met Robinson he told them he was their friend and would protect them.

He promised that if they agreed to come with him he would provide blankets, food, houses and their customs would be respected. He also promised they could return to their homelands occasionally.

Truganini could see that Robinson's promises were the only way her people could survive.

She agreed to help Robinson and with her husband 'Wooraddy' and others. She spent the next five years helping Robinson find the remaining Aboriginal people.

Robinson needed Truganini and her friends to show him the way through the bush to find food and protect him , as well as to convince the remaining Aborigines to move to the island.

Truganini even saved Robinson from hostile spears and drowning.

By 1835 nearly all the Aborigines had agreed to move to Flinders Island where a settlement had been set up at Wybalenna.

Here Robinson intended to teach the Aboriginal people European customs.

The Aborigines believed Flinders Island would be their temporary home and that they were free people who would be housed, fed and protected until they returned to their tribal lands.

But instead the island became a prison and many became sick and died.

Truganani could see Robinson's promises would not save her people and began to tell people 'not to come in' because she knew they would all soon be dead.

In 1838 Truganini and 13 other Aborigines accompanied Robinson on another mission to Melbourne in Victoria but they could not help him this time.

When Truganini returned to the settlement at Wybelanna in 1842 it was without Robinson.

The man, who had promised their race protection, had abandoned them. The Aborigines had no choice but to continue their unhappy exile on the island.

In 1847 Truganini and the remaining 45 people were moved to an abandoned settlement at Oyster Cove on the Tasmanian mainland.

Conditions were even worse, but Truganini found some contentment because this was her traditional territory. She was able to collect shells, hunt in the bush and visit places that were special to her.

Some say this made her strong again because she was the last of the group to survive.

In her later years she moved to Hobart to be cared for by a friend.

Wearing her bright red cap, an adaptation of the red gum tips or ochre the Palawah people loved wearing in their hair, she became a well-known figure in town.

Truganini died in 1876 aged sixty-four, and was buried in the grounds of the female convict gaol in Hobart.

Even though Truganini's dying wish was to be buried behind the mountains, her body was exhumed and her skeleton displayed at the museum until 1947.

Her ashes were finally scattered on the waters of her tribal land , one hundred years after her death.

Truganini is remembered as a proud and courageous survivor in a time of brutality and uncertainty.

Today, descendants of those early tribal Aborigines maintain the indomitable spirit of Truganini.




terça-feira, agosto 20, 2002

EI VILLAR SEU VAGAL!!!
ARRUMA ESSA PORRA P/ MIM!!!

ANDA LOGO MEU.. EU TE PAGO P/ QUE??!!!

E VCS AÍ?? O Q É Q TÃO OLHANDO?? NUNCA VIU NÃO É!!!
TO CUM SONO E DAÍ!! TÁ ACHANDO RUIM É!!!

VEM PEGA EU!!!
ZzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZ

Eu fiquei desde as 11:40 tentando até agora 12:10 tentando fazer uma reserva de voô... e o CARA DE PAU AINDA FALOU:
Já foi feita sua reserva...!! ahahahhahaaha ainda bem q foi rápido!!! rapidinho p/ quem tá desmaiando!!!!

Eu tive 2 MICÕES ANIMAIS semana passada!!
Outro dia eu conto!

Outrossim, como diria a bixa do advogado acima de mim e a puta da estagiária do Mackbosta me fudendo...

Aduz o pobre estagiário q está de SACÃOOOOOO CHEIOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

domingo, agosto 18, 2002

Hj tomando banho tive tres idéias:
3 ensaios

A primeira diz respeito a signos... como 23 desenhos combinados podem representar tanto... mas mesmo assim eu acho q ainda existe uma carencia muito grande destes... eu acho q todas as palavras do dicionário insuficientes... aliás por mais palavras q exista sempre vai ser insuficiente p/ representar um pensamento.. a perda sempre ira existir...

Por isso Guimarães criava tanto neologismos.. e percebi q signos, não necessariamente precisam ser palavras ou letras... mas coisas inteiras.. como por exemplo uma música inteira... uma música pode ter o mesmo significado q a expressão "um dia cinza, em q sopra uma brisa gelada e o tempo está calmo", essa música é Malibu.. não sei pq... sempre q eu escuto ela vem essa imagem na minha mente....


A outra diz respeito ao pensamento... de que ela seja criado através de nossos sentidos... como colocado pelo Alaôr por ex.
De que é impossível pensar o impensavel... pensar em algo q nunca vimos... uma cor q não conhecemos... um som nunca ouvido... etc....
Mas eu tava olhando o box do meu banheiro.. e sabe comecei a olhar igual aqueles livros de 3d... pois é... comecei a enxegar o box mais ao fundo... o problema é q perante o plano físico... aquele espaço que se formou não existe...
Vão dizer que isso é um fenômeno dos olhos.. q eles acabam errando e enchergando algo diferente... mas quem enxerga é o cérebro! Os olhos não enxergam nda! E se o cérebro errou.. isso é um bug... o cérebro ver algo diferente da lógica da física... e sem estar sonhando... ver algo q nao existe... o próprio cérebro distorcer a realidade.. isso é um bug... é a prova de q o mundo não existe o que existe mais coisas por tras disso

A última é do meu ratinho... coitado... fica preso o dia inteiro... foi criado assim... qual o sentido da vida p/ ele? Eu daria tudo p/ entrar na mente dele e saber o que ele pensa... se ele tem crises existenciais... se ele tem sonhos etc... eu tinha um gatinho q sonhava.. e tinha pesadelo ainda por cima ehehehe

Encontrar alguém em 6 bilhoes é algo meio complicado, vcs não acham???
Tem tanta gente q a gente cruza na rua...
E agora tanta gente q a gente cruza na internet... e tanta gente interessante... e q talvez a gente nunca va se encontrar

QUE DESPERDÍCIO!!
Putz tem coisas q realmente me faz sentir bem...
Por ex. ouvir 1979 correndo com os vidros do carro aberto, a noite em sp, olhando a pista toda vermelha, os postes amarelados, os prédios cheios de quadrados amarelos e o céu, avermelhado e branco...
Aliás... eu e meu irmão somos muito podres dirigindo... mas meu irmao melhorou muito... ele já consegue andar sem passar dos 100 dentro da cidade ehehehe... eu que regredi.. pensei q tivesse superado isso... ano retrasado.. qndo fiz cursinho... talvez pq eu dirigia todo dia... eu parei de correr... dirigia tão sussa e tranquilo...
Final de semana passada.. eu juro q pensei q ía me esborrachar a qualquer hora... subi a Barão de itapura a mais de cem... custurando todo mundo... ouvindo música muitttooo alto... ouvindo analyse do Cranberries... mas eu tava mó feliz... eu adoro campinas...
Na verdade esse negócio de correr tá no sangue.. minha irma corre pacas.. e meu pai nem se fala... pior q ele adora contar p/ gente q vive tirando racha na estrada.. nada vê.. isso pq ele já tem mais de sessenta....