<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:56:05.498+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Imperfectu</title><subtitle type='html'>"Ninguém é Perfeito. Quem quer ser Ninguém?"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-6357978965162841664</id><published>2008-01-13T10:04:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-13T10:06:22.697Z</updated><title type='text'>Viver</title><content type='html'>Eu queria mais altas as estrelas,&lt;br /&gt;mais largo o espaco, &lt;br /&gt;o Sol mais criador,&lt;br /&gt;mais refulgente a Lua, &lt;br /&gt;o mar maior,&lt;br /&gt;mais cavadas as ondas e mais belas;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais amplas, &lt;br /&gt;mais rasgadas as janelas das almas, &lt;br /&gt;mais rosais a abrir em flor,&lt;br /&gt;Mais montanhas, &lt;br /&gt;mais asas de condor,&lt;br /&gt;mais sangue sobre a cruz das caravelas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E abrir os bracos e viver a vida:&lt;br /&gt;- Quanto mais funda e lugubre a descida,&lt;br /&gt;mais alta é a ladeira que nao cansa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, acabada a tarefa... &lt;br /&gt;em paz, contente, &lt;br /&gt;um dia adormecer,&lt;br /&gt;serenamente,&lt;br /&gt;como dorme uma crianca!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Florbela Espanca.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-6357978965162841664?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/6357978965162841664/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=6357978965162841664' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/6357978965162841664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/6357978965162841664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2008/01/viver.html' title='Viver'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-2053163328319052357</id><published>2008-01-13T10:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-13T10:02:39.708Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"...O que é preciso é ter sempre presente,&lt;br /&gt;Que o presente é um tempo que se vai  &lt;br /&gt;E o futuro é o tempo resistente..."  &lt;br /&gt;-- José Carlos Ary dos Santos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-2053163328319052357?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/2053163328319052357/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=2053163328319052357' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/2053163328319052357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/2053163328319052357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-116480158091713307</id><published>2006-11-29T11:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-29T11:59:40.930Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Quote:&lt;br /&gt;"If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is: Infinite."&lt;br /&gt;-- William Blake, 1757-1827&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-116480158091713307?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/116480158091713307/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=116480158091713307' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/116480158091713307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/116480158091713307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2006/11/quote-if-doors-of-perception-were.html' title=''/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-116280232058408478</id><published>2006-11-06T08:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-11-06T08:38:40.603Z</updated><title type='text'>Powercuts and Globalization</title><content type='html'>Tonight I experienced the extent of the power of Globalization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I spoke with a friend on the phone, from my home in Brussels to his home in Portugal,&lt;br /&gt;I heard him politely ask me to hang up, as he had to go attend his son, because the&lt;br /&gt;lights had just went out. There was a general power cut in Lisbon area. I was about to say&lt;br /&gt;goodbye when the lights went out also in my home. There was a power cut in Brussels area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was bewildered. Coincidence? I don't really believe in coincidences. I immediately&lt;br /&gt;rationalized that the probability of two simultaneous power cuts in two modern cities,&lt;br /&gt;which are 2000 km apart where extremely remote.&lt;br /&gt;My emotional mind sowered with excitement. Something was happenning!&lt;br /&gt;I called my parents in Portugal and my friends in Belgium to understand the extent of the cuts.&lt;br /&gt;Some were in the dark while others not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly the excitement faded and gave place again to logical though. Europe has been linked in the last decade in a massive power grid,&lt;br /&gt;where countries can draw spontaneous energy needs from one another. Importing and exporting electricity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, a small local crisis in Asia, as impacts in markets in Europe.&lt;br /&gt;Hunger and war in Africa, affects the political agenda in America.&lt;br /&gt;An innocent engineering mistake or the hungry needs for power and heating in one country affects the stability of the power grid of the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such are the consequences, for good or for bad, of Globalization.&lt;br /&gt;Either we liked or not, our futures are linked.&lt;br /&gt;As people of this small blue planet,&lt;br /&gt;we cannot any longer refuse to cooperate and&lt;br /&gt;claim we are an island. We are bound.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-116280232058408478?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/116280232058408478/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=116280232058408478' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/116280232058408478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/116280232058408478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2006/11/powercuts-and-globalization.html' title='Powercuts and Globalization'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-113103076395867511</id><published>2005-11-03T15:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-03T15:12:43.973Z</updated><title type='text'>Quote: Buckminster Fuller</title><content type='html'>Humanity is acquiring all the right technology for all the wrong reasons.&lt;br /&gt;-- R. Buckminster Fuller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buckminster Fuller was an architect / civil engineer most famous for the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geodesic_dome"&gt;geodesic domes&lt;/a&gt; and coined the term &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tensegrity"&gt;Tensegrity&lt;/a&gt;. He was a strong defender of the "Spaceship Earth" idea, stating that we should strive for a sustainable developement of society. He was already defending this grand vision, in the end of 50s, beggining of 60s.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-113103076395867511?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/113103076395867511/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=113103076395867511' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/113103076395867511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/113103076395867511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2005/11/quote-buckminster-fuller.html' title='Quote: Buckminster Fuller'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-113045521890377884</id><published>2005-10-28T00:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-28T00:20:31.143+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cântico Negro</title><content type='html'>Este poema de José Régio é sem dúvida o meu poema preferido. Cada vez q meus olhos percorrem estas linhas, calafrios atravessam o meu corpo e na minha memória ecoam as palavras de João Villaret a declamá-lo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À primeira vista é uma exultação da solidão, como de resto a obra do poeta nos habituou, mas para mim o poema é mais: é o verdadeiro hino da liberdade, do desafio inerente à própria vida, da eterna vontade humana de se suplantar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;             "Vem por aqui" — dizem-me alguns com os olhos doces&lt;br /&gt;           Estendendo-me os braços, e seguros&lt;br /&gt;           De que seria bom que eu os ouvisse&lt;br /&gt;           Quando me dizem: "vem por aqui!"&lt;br /&gt;           Eu olho-os com olhos lassos,&lt;br /&gt;           (Há, nos olhos meus, ironias e cansaços)&lt;br /&gt;           E cruzo os braços,&lt;br /&gt;           E nunca vou por ali...&lt;br /&gt;           A minha glória é esta:&lt;br /&gt;           Criar desumanidades!&lt;br /&gt;           Não acompanhar ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;           — Que eu vivo com o mesmo sem-vontade&lt;br /&gt;           Com que rasguei o ventre à minha mãe&lt;br /&gt;           Não, não vou por aí! Só vou por onde&lt;br /&gt;           Me levam meus próprios passos...&lt;br /&gt;           Se ao que busco saber nenhum de vós responde&lt;br /&gt;           Por que me repetis: "vem por aqui!"?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;            &lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Prefiro escorregar nos becos lamacentos,&lt;br /&gt;           Redemoinhar aos ventos,&lt;br /&gt;           Como farrapos, arrastar os pés sangrentos,&lt;br /&gt;           A ir por aí...&lt;br /&gt;           Se vim ao mundo, foi&lt;br /&gt;           Só para desflorar florestas virgens,&lt;br /&gt;           E desenhar meus próprios pés na areia inexplorada!&lt;br /&gt;           O mais que faço não vale nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;            &lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Como, pois, sereis vós&lt;br /&gt;           Que me dareis impulsos, ferramentas e coragem&lt;br /&gt;           Para eu derrubar os meus obstáculos?...&lt;br /&gt;           Corre, nas vossas veias, sangue velho dos avós,&lt;br /&gt;           E vós amais o que é fácil!&lt;br /&gt;           Eu amo o Longe e a Miragem,&lt;br /&gt;           Amo os abismos, as torrentes, os desertos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;            &lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Ide! Tendes estradas,&lt;br /&gt;           Tendes jardins, tendes canteiros,&lt;br /&gt;           Tendes pátria, tendes tetos,&lt;br /&gt;           E tendes regras, e tratados, e filósofos, e sábios...&lt;br /&gt;           Eu tenho a minha Loucura !&lt;br /&gt;           Levanto-a, como um facho, a arder na noite escura,&lt;br /&gt;           E sinto espuma, e sangue, e cânticos nos lábios...&lt;br /&gt;           Deus e o Diabo é que guiam, mais ninguém!&lt;br /&gt;           Todos tiveram pai, todos tiveram mãe;&lt;br /&gt;           Mas eu, que nunca principio nem acabo,&lt;br /&gt;           Nasci do amor que há entre Deus e o Diabo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;            &lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Ah, que ninguém me dê piedosas intenções,&lt;br /&gt;           Ninguém me peça definições!&lt;br /&gt;           Ninguém me diga: "vem por aqui"!&lt;br /&gt;           A minha vida é um vendaval que se soltou,&lt;br /&gt;           É uma onda que se alevantou,&lt;br /&gt;           É um átomo a mais que se animou...&lt;br /&gt;           Não sei por onde vou,&lt;br /&gt;           Não sei para onde vou&lt;br /&gt;           Sei que não vou por aí!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-113045521890377884?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/113045521890377884/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=113045521890377884' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/113045521890377884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/113045521890377884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2005/10/cntico-negro.html' title='Cântico Negro'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-112707839284114256</id><published>2005-09-18T22:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T22:19:52.846+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Jung's view of knowledge</title><content type='html'>&lt;b style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Science is the tool of the Western mind and with it more doors can be opened than with bare hands. It is part and parcel of our knowledge and obscures our insight only when it holds that the understanding given by it is the only kind there is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We should not pretend to understand the world only by the intellect; we apprehend it just as much by feeling. Therefore, the judgment of the intellect is, at best, only the half of truth, as must, if it be honest, also come to an understanding of its inadequacy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-112707839284114256?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/112707839284114256/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=112707839284114256' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112707839284114256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112707839284114256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2005/09/jungs-view-of-knowledge.html' title='Jung&apos;s view of knowledge'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-112650828835798027</id><published>2005-09-12T07:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T07:58:08.373+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fernando Pessoa em Inglês</title><content type='html'>Poemas de Fernando Pessoa traduzidos para Inglês... e uma elegante apreciação do seu trabalho. &lt;br /&gt;A saber: a palavra "Pessoa" derivada do Etrusco e do Grego, significando "Face ou Máscara de Actor".&lt;br /&gt;Apropriado...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.opendemocracy.net/themes/article.jsp?id=1&amp;articleId=2812"&gt;OpenDemocracy Article&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-112650828835798027?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/112650828835798027/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=112650828835798027' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112650828835798027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112650828835798027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2005/09/fernando-pessoa-em-ingls.html' title='Fernando Pessoa em Inglês'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-112491401759495439</id><published>2005-08-24T21:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-25T13:11:17.046+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Panorama do VKI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/1439/1600/vki_pano.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3053/1439/320/vki_pano.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiago Quintino, EOS-20D 24mm&lt;br /&gt;Panorama made with &lt;a href="http://www.cs.ubc.ca/%7Embrown/autostitch/autostitch.html"&gt;Autostich&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Von Karman Institute for Fluid Dynamics&lt;br /&gt;Rhode St. Genése&lt;br /&gt;Belgica&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-112491401759495439?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/112491401759495439/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=112491401759495439' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112491401759495439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112491401759495439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2005/08/panorama-do-vki.html' title='Panorama do VKI'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-112491377503365411</id><published>2005-08-24T21:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-24T21:02:55.040+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Unknown (1927)</title><content type='html'>The Unknown é um filme mudo excepcional!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma das minhas obras preferidas da sétima arte, este filme foi me apresentado numa atmosfera quase mística: uma pequena sala modesta onde a música de um piano ondolava ao longo dos fotogramas, sem os grilhões de uma partitura, ao sabor da improvisação sintonizada nas cenas que eram exibidas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os actores compensavam em expressões teatrais o que a mudez lhes negava nas palavras, levando o público a interpretar no seu olhar as duplicidades de sentimentos das personagens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O argumentista levou o possessivo amor de um tumultuoso homem, capaz de por tal cortar seus próprios braços,  a contrastar com a ternura de um homem que descobre que a paciência também tem lugar nas lides amorosas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O enredo tece-se eximiamente num circo cigano do inicio do século XX algures nos arredores de Madrid, onde Alonzo, o  homem-sem-braços, atirador de facas, se encontra arrebatado pelo amor que tem pela filha do patrão do circo. Nanon, por acaso dos destino, ou génio do autor, repudia que os homens lhe toquem, achando-os "brutos"! Por momentos parece que Alonzo é o parceiro ideal, mas o pai dela abomina tal relação... e o homem-forte do circo, Malabar,  também acalenta uma paixão ternurenta pela rapariga que entra em pânico na proximidade daqueles braços musculosos...&lt;br /&gt;Alonzo sente-se capaz de tudo para ter Nanon para si mas esconde um segredo que se revelará basilar ao decorrer de cada cena....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0018528/"&gt;IMDB&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-112491377503365411?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/112491377503365411/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=112491377503365411' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112491377503365411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112491377503365411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2005/08/unknown-1927.html' title='The Unknown (1927)'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-112464046757307982</id><published>2005-08-21T17:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-21T17:07:47.576+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As quatro mãos que escrevem o roteiro...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Não sou a areia&lt;br /&gt;              onde se desenha um par de asas&lt;br /&gt;              ou grades diante de uma janela.&lt;br /&gt;              Não sou apenas a pedra que rola&lt;br /&gt;              nas marés do mundo,&lt;br /&gt;              em cada praia renascendo outra.&lt;br /&gt;              Sou a orelha encostada na concha&lt;br /&gt;              da vida, sou construção e desmoronamento,&lt;br /&gt;              servo e senhor, e sou&lt;br /&gt;              mistério&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                 &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;A quatro mãos escrevemos este roteiro&lt;br /&gt;              para o palco de meu tempo:&lt;br /&gt;              o meu destino e eu.&lt;br /&gt;              Nem sempre estamos afinados,&lt;br /&gt;              nem sempre nos levamos&lt;br /&gt;              a sério.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;-- Lya Luft&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-112464046757307982?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/112464046757307982/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=112464046757307982' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112464046757307982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112464046757307982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2005/08/as-quatro-mos-que-escrevem-o-roteiro.html' title='As quatro mãos que escrevem o roteiro...'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15516991.post-112429732569937297</id><published>2005-08-17T17:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T17:48:45.703+01:00</updated><title type='text'>E no inicío não havia nada...</title><content type='html'>Por algum lado temos que começar!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15516991-112429732569937297?l=imperfectu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/feeds/112429732569937297/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15516991&amp;postID=112429732569937297' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112429732569937297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15516991/posts/default/112429732569937297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imperfectu.blogspot.com/2005/08/e-no-inico-no-havia-nada.html' title='E no inicío não havia nada...'/><author><name>TiagoQuintino</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07090920132085561465</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yscOE5tVlL4/TJ5h2rKl8kI/AAAAAAAACRE/lhGokIiF4s8/S220/portrait-bw-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
