fun was had at the eagle yesterday

"Ran into brzinnyc and laughed and just enjoyed a beautiful warm summer night on the roof. Some people realized I had shavedoff my beard and others didn't seem to notice. The consensus was they think I look better with out it."

kitchenbeard looks hotter than ever...

I was back at the Eagle yesterday after 2 months of sel-imposed hiatus (2 weeks ago when I went there to show it to regi and lisa doesn't count). It was weird. I felt very anxious as I walked up 10th ave. When I got there I basically did not know anyone except Paul, the DJ, and Brad who made me his special margarita. What is this? 2 months and everybody I knew is gone. I WAS anxious.

Well, soon 'the group' was formed and, added to a couple more 'margaritas', fun was had.

Mr. RT was there too and I was remimded why I liked him to begin with: that wicked sense of humor we share...

Now, maybe we should try the wednesday after-work margarita madness that Gustavo is trying to get going on the roof.

NYC Jam 2

You can actually turn the pages of the Leonardo da Vinci's Notebook via the British Library

Celluloid Skyline: movie references are one of the things that makes NYC so special to me.

Still questioning: "If looking beautiful becomes as easy as buying a car or a dress, will beauty - or an imitation of it - become so commonplace as to be meaningless?"

KLM via [daily dose of imagery]

Soho, 2pm

KELLY AND PING

my heart aches

"Allah. What have we become? What are we becoming? I sit here as my city burns. There can be no greater pain."

BBC NEWS: Sunni Muslims riot in Karachi after gunmen shoot senior Sunni cleric.

You're fit But my gosh don't you know it

I LOVE The Streets but my gosh you don't have to. The least you can do is agree that their first album, Original Pirate Material was, hmm, original.

They have a new album out, A Grand Don't Come for Free, and I'm having as much fun with it. Favorite song: Fit But You Know It.

See I reckon you're about an 8 or a 9,
Maybe even 9 and a half in four beers time.
That blue top shop top you've got on IS nice,
Bit too much fake tan though - but yeah you score high.

But theres just one little thing that really really,
Really really annoying me about you you see,
Yeah yeah like i said you are really fit
But my gosh don't you just know it

I'm not trying to pull you
Even though i would like to
I think you are really fit
You're fit But my gosh dont you know it

The Streets- Watch the video to 'Fit But You Know It'

happy memorial day

Celebrate Memorial Day right by saluting these soldiers. Or the ones you will find here.

Hasbro building, west 23rd st.

Ollie

Satan's Laundromat:
Burma-Shave

Fleet Week New York

After spending some great time yesterday at the pier and dinner at Pastis, I was thinking about our trip to Las Vegas... Good Times...

Manhattan Equinox

Public Domain 4U: Public Domain MP3s

Brazilian Minister of Culture

Come As You Are (Nirvana)

Come As You Are, as you were,
As I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend, as an old enemy
Take your time, hurry up
The choice is your, don't be late
Take a rest as a friend as an old memoria

Come dowsed in mud, soaked in bleach
As I want you to be
As a trend, as a friend, as an old memoria

And I swear that I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun

The Sunday times

Those who have read this blog more than once might have learned, among other things, that:

1. I love to read


2. I like to read the The New York Times daily and every week I post "The Sunday Times" with several items in it


3. I admire Andrew Sullivan, his republican views notwithstanding. I consider him one of the best observers of contemporary culture. The best one that is also gay without a doubt.

So, because of it, this will be the only post from the NYT for today: Andrew Sullivan's piece on 'Father Joe': The Saint and the Satirist for the Sunday Book Review in The New York Times. (Note: this has become #2 in my wishlist, after the new Sedaris. June 3rd. Thursday.) It is not only beautifully written but, in spite of being a book review, raises existential questions begging to be addressed.

listening is the beginning of understanding, the first exercise of love.

"Saints are perhaps always best evoked by sinners. (...) These ideas of sin that we have are not really sin. Or rather: they are the symptoms of sin, not its essence. And its essence is our withdrawal -- our willful withdrawal -- from God's love. This book is about Hendra's slow, aching, hilarious but profound attempt to accept God's unconditional love for him. And this truly difficult acceptance is a consequence of one other man's quiet listening and faith. Of another's love.

(...) Father Joe, in one swoop, both undermines the current hierarchy's obsessive horror of sex itself and illumines the real point of Catholic sexual ethics: the respect and love for another human made in the image of God.

''Sex is a wonderful gift, a physical way to express the most powerful force in all existence -- love. Sex is a brilliant idea of God's, I think. Almost like a sacrament.''

''Sex is a sacrament?''

''D-d-don't tell the Abbot!''

''There's no sin in having sex?''

''Yes yes yes. There can be. But sex is a sin less often than we're led to believe. It's all a question of context. If you have sex to hurt or exploit another, or to take pleasure only for me, me, me, and not return as much or more to your lover . . . then it becomes sinful. . . . They've made sexual sins the worst sins of the lot, haven't they? Because sex is so powerful, people are fearful of it! We must take the fear out of sex as well.''

(...) In human life, this God is found in listening. ''Listening is reaching out into that unknown other self, surmounting your walls and theirs; listening is the beginning of understanding, the first exercise of love.'' This isn't easy; and our modern world is jammed with endless attempts to prevent us from such listening, from the silence that makes it possible, from the empty spaces in our work-filled days that alone can actually make us human and our lives rich.

(...) And you hear no judgments from Father Joe; no admonitions; no warnings. What you hear is the sound of someone listening. And that very sound draws Hendra back and back -- a silence that somehow pierces the cacophony of New York and Los Angeles and London.

How this story ends is not something to be dwelt on. It is the journey that matters. But in some respects, I think, the book itself is that journey. How did a man known for left-wing screeds and biting satire come to write a book that -- I'm not exaggerating -- belongs in the first tier of spiritual memoirs ever written? The answer is that Hendra resisted such an extraordinary achievement just as he resisted God's love. This short book therefore has the nature of a kind of surrender -- not to some new theology or doctrine or sensibility. It is the surrender of someone to himself as he was always meant to be, to the love he was destined to feel, to the God who refused to let go.

If you are a Catholic who feels, as I have, more estranged from his faith than ever; if you are simply a person longing to live a deeper, more meaningful life; then I beg you to read this book. (...) there is something in this book that speaks particularly to our contemporary spiritual desert and to the kind of faith that ''like clear water from solid rock'' can help us grow and heal again."

At the pier, 5pm

with X-S, Gina and Ollie.

The joy of reading

a new series where I will post excerpts from my current reading material. A moment with a dead robin in it was the first entry.

One day when she was four years old, while leafing through Sylvia's beauty magazines, Allegra had taken offense at how much white space she found. "I don't like white," she said. "It's so plain." She burst into tears. "It's so plain and there's so much of it." She sat for more than one hour, sobbing, working her way through the pages, coloring in the whites of people's eyes, their teeth, the spaces between paragraphs, the frames around ads. She was sobbing because she could see that she would never be done; her whole life would be used up in the hopeless, endless task of amending this single lapse in taste. She would grow old, and there would still be white sheets, white walls, her own white hair.

NYC Jam

Stuck in traffic on 8th Ave @ 42nd St., 6pm: the view from our cab.

NYC: expect the unexpected

Nothing better than a total lack of expectations (close to despair) to produce a perfect day: Yesterday started with some great news I received from Erik P.I., who didn't even make it to GB:NY. Then, my final visit to Bellevue Hospital, glad that is over. Hooked up with X-S, visiting from DC. We rode a cab up the entire Central Park ('It feels like we are in the country') to Harlem, then East Harlem (don't ask why). On 105th and 2nd Ave we spotted Bem Bolado, where we had lunch: since it was 'by the pound' and we have eyes bigger than our stomach, we ended up with every Brazilian dish in our plate. Warning: do not try this at home or otherwise.

With our livers hating us, we headed to Regina's place in Hell's Kitchen just to add pain to their agony: Watermelon Margaritas (the three of us but not Lisa who will not part with her Chardonnay).

After dinner (yes, we ate more) we headed to Snaxx only to find out, oddly enough, that it had happened the night before (?). Gustavo, they think I'm crazy...
Since we wanted to stretch the joy of our friendship we headed to Barracuda where we ran into Eddie and Erik (who is now entitled to one day of my slavedom), thus completing a full circled satisfying perfect day.

As Lou Reed would say.

Appearances 2

The Perfect Margaret Trigg is a must-read 'true re-account' of the life of everybody I know, including myself. With varying degrees of obsession about our appearance (from healthy to margaret), only some details change. The outcome is one, thankfully.

I was a thin kid, a no-no in a Latin society where subconsciously food equals love. A thin kid meant one of two things (sometimes both):
1. You were poor.
2. You did not love him enough to feed him.
Being middle-class culturally more so than financially, it was a source of headache to my parents. They started using means, physical and psychological, to force me to 'clean my plate'. To this day, I am unable to stop eating until all the food is gone from my plate.

I became an overweight adolescent.

My parents were happy but I was miserable. I'm not certain how I came up with the idea to use laxatives and diuretic but it was not until my 20's I was able to shit again on my own. Aren't you glad I'm telling you that?

Please, please, read Margaret's story.

signs of summer

Sweet South Jersey Strawberries (my favorite fruit)
Farmers Market @ Abingdon Square, 9AM

Bellevue #3

Bunnies

Following the HUGE success of The Exorcist:
The Shining
in 30 seconds with bunnies.
Via him again.

Grocery Porn

"My neighborhood is an interesting place to buy groceries. Some time ago, I came across a wonderful soup mix. The actual mix is salty MSG death with very little actual cock, but I love the package." Glennalicious

So do I. And what it was packaging when I last saw it.

orange rusted metal things

Appearances

Today is my last hospital visit to take care of warts (mostly gone now) that grew on my face like wild mushrooms. Not two. More like 20.

Right when I was ready, willing and in need of a job, I was afraid to even leave my room. Self-imposed exile. Afraid of the disgusted reaction from my friends.

Like wearing a tie, or not having facial hair, the warts would not affect in any way my performance at any job. It was all about the perception that existed in other people's head.

It's a shallow world the one we live in. I'm part of that world, no denying. It's a constant battle trying to get over preconceived notions of beauty or why they matter.

Will it be the ultimate sign of maturity?

My prototypical ideal has been liberated from being the all-American Ralph-Lauren model to being accepted as the man of the eagle. Some of my (intelligent, in my opinion) friends still make fun of me: there goes Mr. V's type. Some of my (intelligent, in my opinion) friends still idolize the 'Chelsea look'. It's hard not too when pretty much every gay media outlet - as well as the straight ones - broadcast image after image of buffed hairless six-packed unattainable gods. It makes for a close to impossible to satisfy group of people. The Chelsea look.

Now, when I say Chelsea I do not mean the geographic area contained between 14&23 west of 6th in NYC. Since that's where the gay Mafia lives and/or socializes, it's the center from which these notions are imposed on the less enlightned.

THERE IS a Chelsea mentality in Boston. THERE is a Chelsea mentality in Brazil. And most certainly there is one in Singapore. The Chelsea boy does not need to live in Chelsea, not even in NYC (but in Brazil they are called Barbies).

The power of the media, bombarding images of unattainable ideals, creating fake desires in people's mind.

I hope the Guardian UK is right about the potbelly as the new gay ideal.

THINGS YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT KENTUCKY.

I miss Mr. DW.

Kentucky is not just a border state. We are THE border state! Our Old Kentucky Home is the place where the South, Appalachia and the Midwest all come together to meet and mingle. Kentucky is so neither here nor there that we spent the first two years of the Civil War playing the Union and the Confederacy off each other (the Union finally got fed up with our waffling and occupied the state). We introduced the mint julep and people around the world think of us whenever fried chicken comes up. Our accent is the Appalachian Twang, not the Southern Drawl, and we play basketball as good as the best flat-landed Midwesterner. This cultural burgoo is what it means to be from the Bluegrass State.

Dating tips from the animal kingdom

1. Our good friends and co-evolutionaries Canis familiaris (the domestic dog) show that when in doubt which hole to aim for, thrust wildly. You are bound to land in something good.


2. Shrimps' hearts are in their heads. Men have neither hearts nor heads.


3. Dolphins engage in group sex. If those squeaky grey-skinned fisheaters can do it, so can you.

read the rest of the list at Belle de Jour

Quote of the month

"I fell in love with the pipe... That motherfucker says, 'Don't answer the phone, we have some smoking to do'"
Richard Pryor via POPBITCH

graphic eye

A long time ago, a friend who is an editor at Brazilian Vogue, told me, after looking at some pictures I had taken during her visit to NY, that I had a graphic eye.

I do not consider myself a good photographer nor am I a great graphic designer. For NY standards, anyway, as they are more common than... What's the expression?

Anyway, Eduardinho has just provided me with photosh..., I mean, the means to improve on the pictures I take. Thank you.

With graphic I I am not striving to be recognized as an artist. I just want to share how I look at things. And with it, share what helps me be (?). One hundred people would look at the pier 55 above and just see a dilapidated structure. When Mr. JJ goes see a movie what he experiences transcends the act itself. That's the beauty of it. Beauty. It's everywhere you just need to be willing to look. (that last sentence was sooo fucking corny, I'm definitely NOT a writer).

The NYTimes had a photoessay recently called Poverty's Palette. Preposterous (W.O.T.D.)? Check it out...

"If this were beer, I'd be an alcoholic."

"Blogging is a pastime for many, even a livelihood for a few. For some, it becomes an obsession. Such bloggers often feel compelled to write several times daily and feel anxious if they don't keep up. As they spend more time hunkered over their computers, they neglect family, friends and jobs. They blog at home, at work and on the road. They blog openly or sometimes, (...), quietly so as not to call attention to their habit."

Blogging has helped me get thru the darkest period of my life. It has been my lifeline and my cry for help. Even at the lowest points of the past year you could at least find out if I was still alive by simply checking josé. A lot of 'friends' gave up on me because I wouldn't return calls or I wasn't able to open up yet they were unwilling to read my 'diary'. REALLY read it. Between the lines. The worst I felt, the least personal the entries were. Yet, here it was, the little door I kept open. Rigth, Mr. DF? You found that door. And used it.

who is driving?

[picture by quarlo]

gmail swap: people are desperate for an invitation... i still have one left and will freely give it to the person that offers me the most money.

rings that tell an user you are thinking about them when you rub yours.

BIG LUG: Bear + Cub Nite

Bear Glossary, from the Big Lug site.

but i digress...

Read on the window of Marc Jacobs on Bleecker St.:
"At least when Clinton lied no one died"
Pic on the left: current MJ windows, taken by Emery, sent to me by Mr. RT

Naked Brazilian Stars.

Byrdhouse: Breaking The Rules.

Madonna cancels her second LA show.

OPP's Medicine Cabinets as art.

The Gay Vote : "US servicepeople discharged for having profiles on gay websites"

Another hundred people

Another hundred people just got off of the train
And came up through the ground,
While another hundred people just got off of the bus
And are looking around
At another hundred people who got off of the plane
And are looking at us
Who got off of the train
And the plane and the bus
Maybe yesterday.

It's a city of strangers,
Some come to work, some to play.
A city of strangers,
Some come to stare, some to stay.
And every day
The ones who stay
Can find each other in the crowded streets and the guarded parks,
By the rusty fountains and the dusty trees with the battered barks,
And they walk together past upholstered walls with the crude remarks.
And they meet at parties through the friends of friends who they never
know"
Company

Christopher street pier, 3pm

The gay beach, as I call it.

raison d'etre

word du jour: "the purpose that justifies a thing's existence"
dedicated to LSM

the still (in)famous omelet

"It's standard marketing practice to lure customers into thinking they're getting a bargain by making an item $9.99 instead of $10. But Norma's frittata works through an inverse psychological ploy: The four-figure domain is crucial. Like diamonds, fur coats, champagne, you're paying for the price more than the thing itself—a public display of the fact that money's nothing to you. (Of course, the only people who can afford these forms of conspicuous consumption are those whose every waking minute is devoted to money—making it, monitoring their investments, moving it around to make more money out of it.) At Norma's, the element of ostentatious largesse is turned into a ritual: When someone orders the $1,000 omelet, says Steven Pipes, general manager of Le Parker Meridien, 'we have a bell we ring and we make an announcement to the whole dining room. Some people clap.'"

to be gay & muslim

Hot Sexy Swimmer Guy (Holding head) Whooooaaaaaa !!!!
"Psychotic Me (Stammering) Oh, I am so sorry, are you hurt?
Hot Sexy Swimmer Guy (Holding head) No no, its ok. Its ok. You didnt get hurt did you.
Psychotic Me (Stuttering) So the water is so warm huh?
Hot Sexy Swimmer Guy (Confused at the SUDDEN change of topic) Huh? What? Yeah, maybe it is ...
Psychotic Me (Stuttering with wild confusion) And it isnt very clean is it.
Hot Sexy Swimmer Guy (Confused at the SUDDEN change of topic yet again) Yeah, maybe it is ...

And then he swims off into the setting sun with me standing there and cursing myself for being such a complete moron that I might never ever get laid."

Search for love in Karachi, in his own words: Thoughts, emotions, actions, desires and feelings of Jalaluddin Ahmed Khan. A twenty three year old psychotic sarcastic blogger from Karachi. Cute, smart, funny, sexy and interesting (well, of course everyone exaggerates).

In Movie News

"Highly anticipated disaster flick The Day After Tomorrow opens the day after tomorrow.

On Friday, the day after tomorrow, when The Day After Tomorrow opens, the day after tomorrow will be Sunday."
from low culture

The entire place is an elective.

"But the unfortunate, yet truly exciting thing about your life, is that there is no core curriculum. The entire place is an elective. The paths are infinite and the results uncertain. And it can be maddening to those that go here, especially here, because your strength has always been achievement. So if there’s any real advice I can give you it’s this.

College is something you complete. Life is something you experience. So don’t worry about your grade, or the results or success. Success is defined in myriad ways, and you will find it, and people will no longer be grading you, but it will come from your own internal sense of decency which I imagine, after going through the program here, is quite strong…although I’m sure downloading illegal files…but, nah, that’s a different story."
Jon Stewart's ('84) Commencement Address via A.S.

spanky is spooky

I have a profound dislike for clowns...

Spanky the clown arrested on porn charges: "Spanky, a clown with the renowned Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus, has been arrested on charges stemming from a child pornography investigation."

My favorite living writer.

David Sedaris will be reading from his new book at the Union Square Barnes&Nobles, June 1st, 7pm.

Recently I found some of his work that I had never read before at The New Yorker:

The summer I was twelve, a tropical storm moved up the coast, leaving a sky the same mottled pewter as Gretchen’s subsequent bruises, but the following year we started with luck. My father found a golf course that suited him, and for the first time in memory even he seemed to enjoy himself. Relaxing on the deck with a gin-and-tonic, surrounded by his toast-colored wife and children, he admitted that this really wasn’t so bad. “I’ve been thinking, to hell with these rental cottages,” he said. “What do you say we skip the middleman and just buy a place?”


He spoke in the same tone he used when promising ice cream. “Who’s up for something sweet?” he’d ask, and we’d pile into the car, passing the Tastee- Freez and driving to the grocery store, where he’d buy a block of pus-colored ice milk reduced for quick sale. Experience had taught us not to trust him, but we wanted a beach house so badly it was impossible not to get caught up in the excitement. Even our mother fell for it.


“Do you really mean this?” she asked.


“Absolutely,” he said."

times are such...

One of my favorite artworks gets a spongebath
"The marks on 'David' recount much of the statue's life story, starting with an 18-foot-high marble bloc from Carrara that had been exposed to the elements for 40 years before Michelangelo began transforming it. 'It is very poor quality marble,' Ms. Parnigoni said after working inches from its surface for months on end. Even Michelangelo had to spend four months polishing the marble before it was presented in public in 1504."

That (in)famous omelet...
"$1,000 will get you a six-egg frittata with lobster, cream and 10 ounces of sevruga caviar. The restaurant staff rings a cowbell when the egg dish is served, lest other diners miss the event. With that tab — more than $1,200 with tax and tip — trumpets might be expected."

Big City, Big Dogs
"In a city defined by small spaces - cabs, elevators, cramped apartments and crowded sidewalks - it is often cause for bewilderment that New Yorkers would willingly choose to live with Great Danes, Newfoundlands, St. Bernards and Irish wolfhounds. Everything is outsize: the hair, the smell, the pull of a passing squirrel, the grooming bills, the food intake and its inevitable digestive exit, which can summon spectators like some kind of street show."

Q & A
Why do my fingers wrinkle after I swim for an hour when my friend's fingers don't?
Since cells of the lower layers of the skin do not absorb water and do not change shape, the usual explanation for puckered fingers and toes is that the expanding stratum corneum ends up pleating like corrugated cardboard.

stepford

Prada Store, Soho

My Neil Sedaka Story

when i was a young boy... my family.... grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, great aunts and great uncles... 2nd cousins... etc... all took vacation together... they would pick a hotel in the catskill mountains... aka the jewish alps .... and descend upon it for 2 weeks .... very much like the movie Dirty Dancing ... the second hotel in my memory banks was a small very nice hotel called "the Esther Manor" .... since the owners wife was named Esther hence the name of the hotel ... quelle surprise ... my family loved this hotel and we spent many years enjoying our 2 weeks out of the city in the clean, cool country air ... well...  we used to eat our dinner in the small children's dining room...while the parents and teenage children got to eat in the fancy large dining room... me and my cousin's were young children ranging from 3- 9 yrs old... in the lobby of the hotel... was a baby grand piano and to me it was like pandora's box- magical ... while we waited for our parents to finish we would go to the lobby and wait with grown up supervision... one night a young man sat the piano and started to play... i was always mesmerized at live performance... he was playing and singing... and to me he was unbelievable... but again i was about 5 years old... i was told by my mom that he was dating the owner's daughter... and he would be around quite often... and he was.... i loved to sit and hear him perform... i was told he eventually married the girl... and that was that ...... my family moved on to some place else ... we heard many years later that the Esther Manor was sold and torn down .... well... it was in the early 70's that a revival of some 50's-60's music came around... and i loved the song "breaking up is hard to do" ... one afternoon i was playing the guitar (something you didn't know about me) and singing in my bedroom ... my mom said "do you know who originally sang that song and wrote it?" ... i said "yeah... Neil Sedaka" ... he was a cousin of my classmate Robin Sedeca (that's the way her family spelled the name)... my mom said "do you remember the guy who used to play the pianio for you at the Esther Manor?" ... i told her i remembered a man and the situation ...but not the face... well... of course it was Neil Sedaka... the end!

as told by Mr. DF

but i digress...

Endangered: 2 Columbus Circle

Baby conceived with 21-year-old sperm.

Sedaka is Hebrew for charity.

Word of the day: the recall of memories not recognized as such but thought to be original creations.

Picasso sculpture @ NYU

Mr. DF's choice of image for today.

survivor:colonial

Mr DF and I watched Colonial House last night over chinese take-out. Granted out attention gravitated from the TV to the food to the chit-chat. But it felt cheap to me that PBS was using a format so beaten up already. I understand they might attract viewers that normally would not watch public television and the premise is extremely interesting. So I will withhold my final judgement. For now.

We also saw the last 3 minutes of The Swan and, to me, it was more than I should have bothered to. You could see everything that was wrong with THAT idea.

But we managed to have fun.

Dans mon île

Manhattan
Lyrics by Lorenz Hart
Music by Richard Rodgers
From the Show The Garrick Gaieties (1925)

I'll take Manhattan, the Bronx, and Staten Island too, it's lovely going through the zoo. It's very fancy on old Delancey Street, you know. The subway charms us so, when balmy breezes blow to and fro. And tell me what street compares with Mott street in July, sweet push carts gently gliding by.

The great big city's a wondrous toy, just made for a girl and boy. I'll turn Manhattan into an isle of joy.

I'll go to Greenwich, where modern men itch to be free. And Bowling Green you'll see with me. We'll bathe at Brighton, the fish you'll frighten. When you're in your bathing suit so thin, will make shellfish grin fin to fin. I'd like to take a sail on Jamaica Bay with you, the fair Canarsies Lake we'll view

The city's bustle cannot destroy the dreams of a girl and boy,I'll turn Manhattan into an isle of joy.

23rd and Lexington, 1pm

Expanding on an idea

Pyramid of Needs
Maslow's hierarchy of needs is often depicted as a pyramid consisting of five levels: the four lower levels are grouped together as deficit needs, the top level is referred to as being needs. While deficit needs can be met, being needs are a continuing driving force. The basic idea of this hierarchy is, that higher needs come into focus only after all needs lower in the pyramid are met. Growth forces result in upward movement on the hierarchy, whereas regressive forces push prepotent needs down in the hierarchy.

Deficit Needs
Physiological Needs: If all of a human's needs are unmet then the physiological need takes the highest priority. Given hunger for love and food, a human is more likely to find a solution for the latter first. As a result all other desires and capacities are pushed on to the back burner.
Safety Needs: When the physiological needs are met then the human turns towards safety needs. Safety attains the highest priority over all other desires. However, in the case of acute danger, safety comes before physiological needs (for example eating).
Love Needs (Belonging Needs): If safety and physiological needs are met then the human being gravitates towards achieving fulfilment of love needs. A note worth making here is that sex is not equivalent to love. Love can and is often expressed sexually. Sexuality can at points be considered solely for its physiological basis.
Esteem Needs: This refers to the valuation given to oneself by other people.

Being Needs
Self-actualization is the instinctoid need of a human to make the most of their unique abilities. Maslow described it as:

A musician must make music, the artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. What a man can be, he must be. This need we may call self-actualisation. (Motivation and Personality, 1954)

While other needs can be met fully, self-actualization is seen as 'growing', i.e. as a continuing driving force. This is related to tikkun olam in the Jewish tradition — using one's skills to fix what is broken in the world.

Critique
While Maslow's theory was seen as an improvement on previous theories of personality and motivation, concepts such as self-actualization are somewhat vague. In recent years, the theory as a whole and especially this term have been somewhat overused and are sometimes perceived as psycho-babble.

It is also problematic to operationalize and test Maslow's theory. There is no proof that every person has the ability to become self-actualized.

from Wikipedia

The Cookie Monster

Trojans

"To some people - perhaps those who exercise a lot and don't have a classical education - the word Achilles refers primarily to a body part that gets inflamed with too much long-distance running. For those people, it's coincidental that there was once a Greek hero by that name."
Hollywood Help Wanted: Classicists With Style
"We need writers who can make clear and entertaining the links between these two disparate eras in which the word Trojan has such different connotations."

maslow's pyramid

During the siege of Kuito, Angola, in the early 1990's, Carlos Sicato, a World Food Program worker, described a man producing an old chair and promising his family, 'If we don't die today, we can survive for four more.' He soaked its leather for 15 hours to soften it and remove the tanning chemicals. Then, with boiling water, he made 'lamb soup.'

Anne-Sophie Fournier, director of the American branch of Action Against Hunger, said she had read that the victims of the Soviet famines of the 1930's ate furniture, too. The scene in 'Gold Rush' in which Charlie Chaplin, trapped in a Yukon cabin, ate his shoe (actually made of licorice) was not entirely fanciful.

Starvation brings out what professional famine fighters call 'coping mechanisms.'

The simplest is such a truism that it seems absurd: When there is little food, people eat less.

Have you ever been REALLY hungry? So hungry that the only thing you think about is how to stop it, even if it means stealing food? Or eating your shoes, a la Chaplin?

Maslow's Pyramid seems obvious but I can tell you from experience that if you will need each level, from bottom up, taken care of before you can advance to the next level.

I have been hungry.

In a world where the rich spend millions on ways to avoid carbohydrates and the United Nations declares obesity a global health threat, the cruel reality is that far more people struggle each day just to get enough calories.
The New York Times > Week in Review > Staving Off Starvation: When Real Food Isn't an Option

Puss in Boots

Went to see Shrek 2 last night with Eduardinho and Marcello Reeves among other friends...

Fairy Godmother was a great new character for obvious (gay) reasons (I actually owned the complete screenplay for the first season of Ab Fab).

But the biggest surprise was Puss in Boots, my favorite. Suave. When he gets busted and the cops pull out a little plastic bag from his pocket he immediately offers: "Not mine. You guys planted it in there". This happens so quickly that kids will totally miss it, thankfully. And so do the other 'adult' jokes. When they need to run out of a 'Farbucks', they run across the street to the other one... It's so clever that I will need to see it again to catch all the jokes I missed while crying from hysterically laughing.

Of course, I was the one laughing the hardest.

It was a perfect night, thank you guys.

but i digress...

'Fahrenheit 9/11' Wins Top Prize at Cannes

swirl via kottke

james' dogs

I love these dogs. The male is deaf but understands sign language. It has always amazed me.

How much for mine?

The journey of one man's kidney from Brazil to Brooklyn reveals the inner workings of a global black market for organs.

Map: Kidney Trafficking

The New York Times > International > Americas > Tracking the Sale of a Kidney on a Path of Poverty and Hope

The Ethicist

I am a former federal prosecutor who has investigated and prosecuted narcotics traffickers. A few of my friends smoke marijuana and use other recreational drugs, and I have no problem tolerating that. But would it be unethical of me to use such drugs myself, having helped imprison drug offenders? I find it difficult to articulate what I find unethical here, apart from the illegality and feelings of hypocrisy.

A major part of ethics is considering the effects of our actions on others. Yours did real harm to those you prosecuted. If you acted in service of policies you now consider unwarranted, you have an ethical obligation to undo that harm, perhaps by working to free those currently in jail as a consequence of your efforts, perhaps by helping to reform the laws that put them there. When you've done harm in the past -- and your query suggests that you now believe you have -- your duty isn't merely to lament, but to make amends.

The Prosecution Rests

a guy walks into the store...

This very handsome, hot black guy just walked into Angelique and ordered 4 croissants, 2 plain and 2 with chocolate.
-To go?
-No, for here. And 2 large OJ's
Sat down, eat them and bought 2 more to go.

End of the post.

lilac

a moment with a dead robin in it

"Jocelyn had never been allowed to have a dog. A dog, in her mother's opinion, was just a story with a sad ending coming"

I love to read.

No breaking news, I know.

But thhis is what i wonder every time i open The Jane Austen Book Club, my current reading: Why is that i get such pleasure from a perfectly written, simply expressed, carefully worded sentence? What causes my pleasure central to react to such stimuli? Rethorical questions, of course.

Some samples of what re-directed my brain to that place. There is not a single word in excess, it's beauty trimmed off any fat content:

Pridey was so happy he blurred at the edges. He ran up the seesaw and did not weight enough to tip it until the very end. The downward plunge frightened him, and he jumped straight into Jocelyn's arms, but two seconds later, completely recovered, he wiggled his way loose, grabbed a leaf in his teeth, and raced off, dropping it only when he found a dead robin in the grass. Pridey lived in the moment , and a moment with a dead robin in it was a very good moment.

her beautiful mind

"But why should we hear about body bags, and deaths, and how many, what day it's gonna happen, and how many this or what do you suppose? Or, I mean, it's, it's not relevant. So why should i waste my beautiful mind on something like that? And watch him suffer?"
--- Barbara Bush on "Good Morning America", 03/18/03

fun to be had 2

Cucalambe, Where Art Thou?

Portuguese Tiles

Perry St. @ Bleecker St.

Fun to be had

Mr. JJ had invited me to attend the Gay Bloggers reunion at Barrage last night but, because of several reasons, none of them personal against him, I did not have absolutely any intentions of going. But that's exactly where I found myself after Regi and I had dinner at Rice "N" Beans.

Regi and I go back 25 years. We met in our first year of college and have been friends ever since. She blames me for her sexual questioning that led her to follow me to NYC. People jokingly define her as 'frank', as if it were a negative trait. It's the one I most admire on her. She has taken on a role of coach for me right now, much needed I must add. I had been going through a phase where I had lost focus and I needed someone that would not tell me just what I needed to do but how to do it.

Anyhow, she lives in Hell's Kitchen, Rice&Beans is nearby, and we were not ready to wrap up the conversation after the rice and the beans were gone. We needed a place for a nightcap. And that's how we ended at Barrage.

People that know me superficially laugh when I say I'm demure and the term is usually applied pejoratively and mostly to girls.

So we could very well have just had our nightcap and not interacted with the GBNY party except I had exchanged several emails with Apt. 3E and he was the first person I ran into at the bar. And that's how I got to meet several other bloggers (which is as generic as 'brazilian' for a lowest common denominator), and a representative of another one that could not make it and with whom (both) I'd gone out dancing before.

There IS fun to be had outside the cocoon. And interesting people to meet. And new places to go.

WILLEM DE KOONING

Mr. Rod and I went to see the DE KOONING show at Gagosian and visit other galleries in West Chelsea. Trying to spend some quality time reacquainting with an old friend. That's him looking at the "No Title - 1998" painting on the top picture.

A Centennial Exhibition

but i digress...

Mr. Rod, the original digressor, is in NYC visiting from LA.

• my milkshake bringeth all ye gentlefolk to the yard


• Kids Send In The Darnedest Things
  Patient: I keep seeing a pink monster.
  Doctor: Have you seen a psychiatrist?
  Patient: No, just a pink monster.


• iRaq posters showing up around nyc


• word of the day


• in a past life, I was "the Jaded Oedipal Slave of Ethiopia"


• Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim: a reason to keep on living. Until june 1st, at least.


• Hugekid's Gaydar Profile


• Primates (Skeletal)


• The Blog of Death

Bush

NE corner of Charles and Greenwich Street.

Memory

"You see, memories have power. They come in dreams. When you’re riding a subway. And when you’re sitting around gazing out your office window. You see something; smell something that reminds you of a moment with someone, special. A sly smile of happiness bends your lips. And that “thought”, that good memory, is food for souls. We honor our dead by remembering them. So it’s important, how you remember."
geekslut

My mother had always been the life of the party.

When in NY for my graduation she had to go into the hospital never to go back to Brasil. She was an alcoholic. Her liver ruined, she had lost the ability to clog and could bleed to death if untreated. She was also terrified of doctors and hospitals. After I was born she was pregnant another five times, only to miscarry or loose the babies, who were born weak, soon afterwards, due to Rh factor incompatibility. She was traumatized.

So, while visiting me, she had a minor hemorrhage that she hid because, on top of her fear, she spoke not a single word of english. By the time I found out she had already lost so much blood that her heart almost stopped.

Eventually she had to be hooked up to a respirator where I watched her lay lifeless for days, twenty-four hours of each of those days, until I had no choice but authorize turning it off.

There is a smell I want to forget that reminds me of those days...

It's one of the memories of my mother I wish I did not have.

They pepper-sprayed Lauren

Lauren is the nicest of the girls from Angelique. She is from Alabama and has an All-American, pink-cheeks, beauty & naivité.

Lauren was pepper-sprayed by a group of transvestites on her way to work this morning, 6:30am, on Christopher Street. Nothing robbed. Just a little of her confidence.

How to explain the reasons behind such apparently random act of violence to her?

Of all the shades of the gay flag, transvestites are the one I can't comprehend. I understand. But I can't comprehend.

So I tell her they are angry because she is a pretty girl, everything they strive to be but cannot.

They've learned a man can only love a woman and only a woman can be loved by a man. They want to love and be loved. They want to be Lauren. They cannot be Lauren.

They pepper-sprayed Lauren.

garfield

Keep It Simple

"Simplicity is hardly a new idea. 'Make everything as simple as possible, but not simpler,' Albert Einstein is often quoted as saying. His actual wording was a tad more convoluted..."

The New York Times > Technology > Circuits > Essay: A Design Epiphany: Keep It Simple

DJ PAUL FERRER

The man responsible for the hottest bar night in NYC. Photo by Mr. JJ.

that creepy smile 2.

"For all the tangled nudes, the hideous hoods, the dangling wires and the dog leash, perhaps the single most shocking thing about the images from Abu Ghraib prison is the woman in so many of the pictures: smiling broadly or giving a thumbs up or just standing casually in the demented scene as if posing in a college dorm. It's the all-American face of Private First Class Lynndie England. The girl next door, a Jessica Lynch gone wrong.

What forces, internal or external, could have brought this diminutive, 21-year-old woman and her six accused comrades to this appalling pass? There is no shortage of explanations. (...)

Psychologists and historians who study torture give what is probably the most disturbing explanation of all: they are us. For under certain circumstances, almost anyone has the capacity to commit the atrocities seen in the photos that have shocked the world.

TIME Magazine: Why Did They Do It?

that creepy smile...

is gone. But still is, to me, the scariest thing in all those pictures. It is an expression of evil.

Ad Sense

"Google AdSense delivers ads that are relevant to what your readers see on your pages"

Above is the ad that showed up at Joe. My. God. in relation to today's posting, 'Aunt' Susan: "Hemp Jewelry" and "InterracialMatch.com".

Niche Marketing at its best...

On another note: does anyone know a literary agent for this guy??? He is as good as David Sedaris... (Joe, coming from me, a HUGE compliment.)

dead and alive

The Ghetto Film School

Last night I watched the The Ghetto Film School Festival at the Apple Store and I had a blast.

There were short films made by kids from 9th grade and bellow who attend the School.

The technical quality and the story-telling ability was excellent, obviously influenced by their access to a LOT of television. There were even a couple of movies with special effects. After each movie, the director would come up to the podium to thank their parents (usually) and take a question. These were really young kids, which only made the movies shown more impressive.

The one troubling - or telling - fact was that on all but one of the movies the theme was revenge - against the bully, the guy that stole the expensive sneaker, the girl that tried to get someone's boyfriend.

Revenge that involved physical violence.

Sometimes they would gang up on the 'enemy'. In a few movies they would just drink the 'magic potion' that made them 'superkid'.

Obviously, and admirably, the School gave them total freedom of expression.

And the catharsis that went on... Kids on the audience AND their parents (and even I) were hysterical when the underdog beat up the bad wolf (in one film, the bad guy wore a fur trimmed hooded parka).

Freud would have had a field day.

The kids were beaming! And THAT made me happy.

BTW, the one movie that was not about revenge - and the ONLY romantic one - was about 2 kids attempt to courtship but they were so shy and awkward that every time they tried, they PHYSICALLY HURT each other...

I LOVE KIDS.

Love. A spotter's guide.

True Love: can be introduced to the family without unreasonable fear of embarrassment. On the part of the family.

Everlasting Love: a polyamorous couple who haven't had sex with each other in years.

Love Match: an alliance between kingdoms.

In Love: a momentary instance of being almost as interested in someone else as in oneself.

Loving: capable of untold amounts of suffocation.

Motherly Love: capable of untold amounts of suffocation.

Lover: the one who comes round when your partner's 'out of town on business' (read: seeing his lover).

Lovable: cuddly. In the pejorative sense (similar to the concept of 'shapely legs,' which is code for chubby).

Lovely: only just bearable. 'That was a lovely party! I do hope you take me to Kettering again!'

via Belle de Jour

Bellevue Hospital, 11am

The Enemy

"American soldiers are trained to call those they are fighting against "the enemy." It is easier to kill an enemy than an Iraqi.

The word "enemy" itself provides the facelessness of a collective noun. Its non-specificity also has a fear-inducing connotation; enemy means simply "those we are fighting," without reference to their identity.

The terrors and uncertainties of war make learning this kind of language especially compelling for soldiers on the front. But civilians back home also need to believe that what their country is doing is just and necessary, and that the killing they are supporting is in some way different from the killing in civilian life that is rightly punished by the criminal justice system. The use of the language developed for military purposes by civilians reassures them that war is not murder.

The linguistic habits that soldiers must absorb in order to fight make atrocities like those at Abu Ghraib virtually inevitable. The same language that creates a psychological chasm between "us" and "them" and enables American troops to kill in battle, makes enemy soldiers fit subjects for torture and humiliation. The reasoning is: They are not really human, so they will not feel the pain.

Once language draws that line, all kinds of mistreatment become imaginable, and then justifiable."

Essay: From Ancient Greece to Iraq, the Power of Words in Wartime

The happiest day

Hundreds of Same-Sex Couples Wed in Massachusetts
and the sky has not fallen...

But this time, these couples have said yes ? and all the president can do (today, at least) is watch. It is a private moment and a public one. And it represents, just as Brown did in a different way, the hope of a humanity that doesn't separate one soul from another and a polity that doesn't divide one citizen from another. It is integration made real, a love finally come home: after centuries of pain and stigma, the "happiest day of our lives."
"Integration Day"

Last night Andrew Sullivan read from his new book, Same-Sex Marriage: Pro and Con, at the Chelsea Barnes&Nobles and with a Q&A session and book signing following. I don't know if the date was chosen randomly or planned to coincide with 'the happiest day' for gay rights movement, as he so brilliantly wrote yesterday in the Op-Ed piece quoted above doing an analogy between yesterday's culmination of events and the 'Brown vs Board of Education' ruling. Coincidences abound.

gays are more equal now

Andrew Sullivan was the first person I recall to publicly speak about the need to fight for marriage being the cornerstone of gays rights. And being chastised for that. By gay people.

And then the fact he is a Republican. More heat taken from gays.

Not to forget the most ridicule of accusations against him, the fact that it was publicized he engaged in promiscuous sex. Again, gay intellectuals were up and arms against him. Gays that MUST NOT HAVE HAD SEX in ages.

Who can throw the first stone??? Who does not live in a glass roofed house???

It appals me when people can only see black and white in today's world. Specially if you are part of a repressed minority.

Andrew Sullivan's assessment of gay culture (and culture in general) and its co-relation to today's society is the best of any I know of.

Besides the fact he is one hot bear.

Sunday Mass

Sunday Beer Blast @ The Eagle with DJ Paul Ferrer

A glitch in the system

Carmina Burana: Ego sum abbas Cucaniensis, (excerpt)

Ego sum abbas Cucaniensis et consilium meum est cum bibulis, et in secta Decii voluntas mea est, et qui mane me quesierit in taberna, post vesperam nudus egredietur, et sic denudatus veste clamabit: Wafna, wafna! quid fecisti sors turpissima? Nostre vite gaudia abstulisti omnia! Wafna!	I am the abbot of Cockaigne, and I take counsel with my drinking companions, and my persuasion is that of the gambling fraternity, and if anyone consults me in the tavern at matins, come vespers, he'll have lost the shirt off his back: and being thus fleeced of his raiment will cry Save me! Save me! What have you done, god-forsaken dice? Now you've made me sacrifice all I knew of paradise!

This weekend one of my posts disappeared and a new one showed up in its place at the host site. Hacker. First thought. So I changed my password. Then I went to check the post left: The Words. And it is a link to the words to Carmina Burana.

Carmina Burana is my favorite opera but, beyond that, it is also the last production I sang in Belo Horizonte, a few days before I moved to New York in June of 87.

That's right.

In Brazil it is a requirement to play soccer and to sing, preferably while playing the guitar (but NOT to play soccer and the guitar at the same time, as that would be hard. Like 'whistling while sucking sugar cane', a saying that does not travel well). That was always a source of frustration to me because I could not do either. Or any.

One day, already a grown up, I went to pick up my friend Flavia from her chorus rehearsal and told the chorus director about my frustration. She said 'everybody can sing' as she pulled me to the piano to test my 'singing' voice which she classified as a Bass, meaning very low, a section in desperate need of members in the chorus. Because my 'singing voice' was so low, when I tried to sing along with my friends I would do it in Falsetto and it was a disaster (Serenata: something you do after the girls curfew and you and your friends are drunk. You go from house to house singing love songs by the girl's window, which she eventually opens so you can give her a rose. Talk about romantic naivité).

So, one of my greatest satisfactions in life has been the time I sang in that chorus. It was one of the best in the city and anytime the Municipal Theatre was putting together an opera they invited us to add on voices to their chorus. And that's how I ended up on stage singing Carmina Burana.
Hollywoodod sort of overkilled the opening --- for some reason it is used a lot in previews of upcoming movies that do not have its own score yet. But the whole opera is very interesting and extremely weird. It was written by Carl Orff in 1937.

Anyway, coincidences...

I decided to post the words to my favorite part --- and the one my 'section' of the chorus actually sang because being the bass you are relegated to producing sound effects for the tenors --- 'Ego sum abbas Cucaniensis', which translates as 'I am the abbot of Cockaigne'

Alright, so Cockaigne also happens to be a painting that serves as inspiration for this blog.

Too weird.

If there was really a hacker (maybe I've become a zombie blogger) it must be someone that knows me too well and that's even more scary. But a good start for a screenplay.

107 christopher street, 11:30am

there goes the neighborhood.

it's sunday times

"Richard Chartres, Anglican bishop of London, is not used to having congregants wandering around in front of him swearing as he preaches. Then again, he does not normally transform himself into a three-dimensional computer image in an imaginary sanctuary as he did Tuesday to deliver a sermon to animated representations of churchgoers.

But such is life — virtual life, that is — at www.churchoffools.com, an experiment in interactive worship over the Internet."

greek tragedy ii: american pie

"Oblivious of the consequences, the impetuous black sheep of a ruling family starts a war triggered by a personal grudge.

The father, a respected veteran of his own wars, suppresses his unease and graciously supports his son, even though it will end up destroying his legacy and the world order he envisioned.

The ferocious battle in the far-off sands spirals out of control, with many brave soldiers killed, with symbols of divinity damaged, with graphic scenes showing physical abuse of the conquered, and with devastatingly surreptitious guerrilla tactics."

Dowd showing we just re-enact the same stories, over and over.

ground zero

Why Not a Park?

The Ethicist

After seven years as a catch-and-release fly-fisherman, I have decided to give it up because I believe it is wrong. Would it be ethical to pass on my flies and equipment to friends and family who are already fishermen?

When a cowboy-movie gunfighter has an epiphany, he hangs up his pistol; he doesn't pass it on to another killer.

christopher street pier, 10am

New York Water Taxi

greek tragedy

The plot:

Paris, prince of Troy, seduces and absconds (note: my word of the day) with the wife of Spartan king Menelaus. It's a well known fact that Spartans don't take kindly to such betrayals and before long, Menelaus and his brother Agamemnon set sail with 1,000 ships (give or take) to steal Helen back, sack Troy, and pummel the House of Priam back to the Silver Age.

A cast of thousand sacrifices hecatombs, and the Greeks and Trojans square off at great length (and cost). Conveniently, the two greatest warriors in the world - noble Hector, brother of Paris, and arrogant Achilles, whose thirst for immortality fuels his bloodlust - also go at it. The movie ends (spoiler alert) with a rather clever gimmick involving a horse.

from yesterday's The New York Sun

I saw Troy last night and I have one word (actually two) for you: Eric Bana. Who, out of nowhere, (OK, he was "The Hulk" but that memory has been misplaced somewhere in my head) has caused some commotion on my top 5 list (I know, that joke is tired already).

I actually have another (few) word for you: Brad 'blah' Pitt does NOT play the role of Troy. That's actually not a character but a place in Ancient Greek History (part of Turkey, nowadays). He plays Achilles, the one of the tendon, which is funny because the whole premise of the movie is that his motivation was to be remembered forever and what his name is associated the most with, today, is his weakness. (When Achilles was born, his loving mother Thetis wished to make him immortal, and for that purpose she dipped him in the waters of the river Styx holding him upside down by his - guess... - ankles).

Everything I know about Ancient Greece I learned by devouring O minotauro (The Minotaur) and Os doze trabalhos de Hércules (The Twelve Labors of Hercules) by Monteiro Lobato

I've always loved to read. Or so I remember. The first gift I remember receiving were the complete works of Monteiro Lobato. I cannot begin to explain how many things not only I learned but that I still remember because of his books. And I have never found a children's book written in the same manner - not style - combining imagination, adventure, learning and fun.

I was thinking this after the movie last night. I now believe the reason I love reading and learning new things is because Lobato showed me that satisfaction can be simply a figment of my imagination.

reminder

Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. Do not believe anything because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything because it is written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and the benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.

Não acredite em algo simplesmente porque ouviu. Não acredite em algo simplesmente porque todos falam a respeito. Não acredite em algo simplesmente porque esta escrito em seus livros religiosos. Não acredite em algo só porque seus professores e mestres dizem que é verdade. Não acredite em tradições só porque foram passadas de geração em geração. Mas depois de muita análise e observação, se você vê que algo concorda com a razão, e que conduz ao bem e beneficio de todos, aceite-o e viva-o.

Brazil prison siege ends 02/20/01

[IMAGES: above is the real Carandiru and on the right, a movie still.]

Carandiru opens today.

It's the real Oz, its dirty version (the Oz prison was cleaner than the ER hospital). Saw it in Brazil last year. Very powerful. More powerful than City of God. Which might be a problem for the American audience... And then, there is Brazilian hottest export, Rodrigo Santoro playing Lady Di, a drag queen.

Carandiru was the name of a prison in São Paulo - and the name of a book written by the doctor that worked in there as a way of dealing with his job psychologically - where a rebellion of prisoners occurred (and a subsequent massacre). The building, later, gets imploded, in a reaction - or better - in an attempt on moral cleansing.

Dramatically, the movie reminded me a lot of... Oz. Each character that is presented has his 'version' of why they are in there told in flashback. As one of them say: "Doctor, don't you understand yet? We are all not guilty in here." It's like a collection of little documentaries, there is not a single story. Maybe, the story of the building itself. (the implosion was filmed after the film was finished - filmed inside the real prison - and added later).

I, once again, hate the generalizations that will be formed in people's mind here of what Brazil is like because the will see this movie. And only this movie.

But, with apprehension, I highly recommend it...

A time comes when life is an order. Just life, without any escapes.

Why you should never put your picture on the Internet ...

The Last Frasier was a classic. 1,000 times better than the lame Friends finale. The scene where Niles walks out of the room feeding the monkey as a baby to receive his family was hilarious...

May 17, 2004. It's a date.

Lost bag full of stuff on way to porn shoot 6 train. On a separate note looking for hot redheads or any types of lesbians/bisexuals into crazy kinds of shit that want to be in an upcoming amateur Porn flick, lets see what we can do.

Fuck you, you fag. I bet you suck cock.

Word of the day: longest non-technical word in the english language.

MemeFirst on the consequences of the Brazil vs NYTimes case:

Brazil's actions have been wholly counterproductive, a kind of puffed-up national pride winning out over any pragmatic considerations. But then again, the cooler heads have rarely prevailed in Brazil. The best the country can hope for is that the rest of the world will shrug its shoulders and say 'Brazilians. What do you expect.' The alternative is that Brazil will suffer a steady and damaging diminution of its reputation abroad.

Your Shoulders Hold Up The World

A time comes when we no longer can say:
     my God.
A time of total cleaning up.
A time when we no longer can say: my love.
Because love proved useless.
And the eyes don't cry.
And the hands do only rough work.
And the heart is dry.
They knock at our door in vain, we won't open.
We remain alone, the light turned off,
and our enormous eyes shine in the dark.
It is obvious we no longer know how to suffer.
And we want nothing from our friends.

Who cares if old age comes, what is old age?
Our shoulders are holding up the world
and it's lighter than a child's hand.
Wars, famine, family fights inside buildings
prove only that life goes on
and not everybody has freed themselves yet.
Some (the delicate ones) judging the spectacle cruel
will prefer to die.
A time comes when death doesn't help.
A time comes when life is an order.
Just life, without any escapes.
 
Carlos Drummond de Andrade

happy birthday mr. si!

where the jobs are: very impressive.

Americans will be better off if they strive to move up the hierarchy of human talents. That's where our future lies. The NYTimes

people skills, emotional intelligence (how not to play games?), imagination and creativity are the most valued skills in today's market. I would say I excel at those skills. Ok, emotional intelligence gets a question mark. But what kind of job should I be looking for?...

Recreation Worker: I'll explore that field today, although I might have the wrong idea in my head...

blogging today from soy luck club, new favorite place. One of the top 5. But as Mr. DF pointed out (nagged) at Paul's birthday party, that's the eighth 'top five' you mentioned tonight. I guess math is not one of my strengths...

wwbd?

To bring you up-to-date: The Times had an article last Sunday especulating that the Brazilian President's drinking was affecting his performance. And ran the picture on the right, taken during Oktoberfest in Brazil (I know it sounds odd but the south of the country is heavily germanic). The Brazilian Government expelled the journalist who wrote the article. The NYT stands behind his report. Today's Times:

The article, ('Brazilian Leader's Tippling Becomes National Concern') written by Larry Rohter, the Rio de Janeiro bureau chief, and published on Sunday, reported publicly expressed concerns about Mr. da Silva's drinking habits. It said, 'Some of his countrymen have begun wondering if their president's predilection for strong drink is affecting his performance in office.

And the soap-opera unfolds...
what would bush do?

new york city kids

kids watching me watch them. have i mentioned i love kids?

can we play scrabble instead?

i'm tired of the emotional abuse games we all play so well.

Welcome back, kotter

I have no words to convey how happy and satisfied Musicology has made me.

Call it what u like
I'm gonna call it how it b
This is just another one
Of God's gifts
Musicology

"Now comes Musicology, as appealing, focused and straight-up satisfying an album as Prince has made since who can remember when. It's open, easygoing and inclusive, the sort of album anyone might like. Most notably, Musicology restores a refreshing sense of songcraft to Prince's writing."
Rolling Stone

1. iShit, iShave, iShower

   maximizing time



2. What if your lover is better looking than you are?

   when the desire for an erotic ideal conflicts with accepting the available guy.



3. The Worst of NYC

   people, places, and things that are stinkin' up the joint.



4. mental note

   cuz' mi gusta some cuban(s)

   
   
5. new jersey town renamed after one of my top 5 favorite drinks

   New Jersey... What else can be said...

Blue baseball caps

Brazilian soldiers get ready to go to Haiti, on a peace keeping mission.

not practical if u wanna disappear during an attack ... but very cute .... typical
no wonder we all think brazilians are hot!
mr. df's fashion opinion and i concur.

wise as a whore

And you think, perhaps, there is one guarantee in life (that it ends) and one fairly safe bet as well (that it is painful) and freedom and property are illusions that can only exist in the mind. And that cleverer people have already thought these thoughts and discarded them and why don't I stop this rubbish philosophising already? Oh look, a woman in a stripey hat walking a champagne poodle.

I don't mean to make light of these events, but I'm hoping for a little pickup in the terror-sex department. It would do me the world of good.
Belle de Jour

Having grown up in Brazil during the military dictatorship I had seem pictures just like the ones released recently showing the Iraq prisons.

Having grown up in Brazil during the military dictatorship I had heard of torture techniques used on political prisioners just like the ones reportedly done in the Iraq prisons.

Having grown up in Brazil during the military dictatorship it was a well reported fact that the torturers were specially trained by the CIA.

I'll leave it at that.

[IMAGE: the 60's are back! View Meccapixel's pictures: On Saturday the arrest of two black protesters fueled unrest among a anti-war demonstration participants in new york city.]

digressing with mr.dfsaudade = melancholy?

for me melancholy is a longing... a desire and a rememberance of something or someone... that you want and cannot find or get... a pain in the heart that you cannot relieve... a bitter sweet memory that you wish for to feel, see or experience once more but know it cannot be....

exactly that.

but you don't say i have melancholy for my mother...or brazil.

you could say "i feel melancholy for my mom... or i am overwhelmed by melancholy for my mom and brazil" ... that works....

my point is in brazil we have this word that define a feeling that we express a lot.
do you think the fact the word does not exist in english makes it harder for people to have that feeling?

do you think that maybe that's one of the reasons they say brazilians are hot, passionate.

of course, we could go on and on. and i'm not developing the best argument here...

but i think there is validity to that theory...

(...)

that's the basis for Aristotle's logic: 'it exists only if it can be defined'

which is not (always) true, i know.

but ppl are only aware of things that can be defined.

the universe did not exist in ppls mind until someone proved it did.

i agree to the theory ... ...'it exists only if it can be defined' ... but some things exist and we feel them w/o being able to verbally tranlate the emotion .... we do not know how to express them or let them go free ... yes.... i believe if you can label or define something it is easier to accept thus more apt to become apart of one's repetoire of experiences ...

(...)

yes ... i am sure your right about passion... it is something that not only is born inside of you.. but something you need to learn about ... to become more proficient at it.... to keep the fires burning .... at the right temperature....

YES!!!!!The first blog hip hop song. And it's very good.

you think your tiny sucky blog makin me feel fear?
I get more hits in a week than you get all year
you cry a tear cuz you're jealous about my fame
talk a good one but never call me out by name

I Know Why the Unicorn Cries

"this is blog music at its best." anil dash

Portuguese Word of the day (a repeat)

Saudade
'The beauty of this word is that it cannot be translated easily.

Take nostalgia/yearning/longing/sadness/fondness, put them in a blender.. add some sugar, a little salt, and a dash of cachaca all while listening to some samba and you will have something that almost defines "saudade".'

A saudade é um filme sem cor que meu coração quer ver colorido

Saudade is a black and white movie that my heart wants to watch in technicolor.

Second World

As defined by the same people who invented World Maps, where North is always on top. How convenient...

The term 'First World' refers to so called developed, capitalist, industrial countries, roughly, a bloc of countries aligned with the United States with common political and economic interests: North America, Western Europe, Japan and Australia.

'Second World' refers to the (former) communist-socialist, industrial states, (formerly the Eastern bloc, the territory and sphere of influence of the Union of Soviet Socialists Republic) today: Russia, Eastern Europe (e.g., Poland) and some of the Turk States (e.g., Kazakhstan) as well as China.

'Third World' are all the other countries, today often used to roughly describe the developing countries of Africa, Asia and Latin America.
The term Third World includes as well capitalist (e.g., Venezuela) and communist (e.g., North Korea) countries as very rich (e.g., Saudi Arabia) and very poor (e.g., Mali) countries.

The term 'Forth World' first came into use in 1974 with the publication of Shuswap Chief George Manuel's: The fourth world : an Indian reality, the term refers to nations (cultural entities, ethnic groups) of indigenous peoples living within or across state boundaries (political units, states).
Nations Online

but i digress...

"normal is a rare condition.
So rare, in fact, that it may not even exist."

catching up on my reading while in waiting rooms...
[image: bellevue by graphic i]

1. Jamaica is the new Brazil

   as stated by myself



2. The Ethicist
   

   I (...) asked for my father's (ashes) urn and the gravekeeper's wife pointed to a shelf holding three. I grabbed the nearest and ran to the grave, and the burial was completed. As we were leaving, the gravekeeper told me we'd buried the wrong urn. Must I now tell my sister?
   
   The odds were against your grabbing the right urn, as any Vegas mortician can tell you.
   
   I'm looking for an apartment. If I take an apartment priced bellow what I can afford, I take it away from someone who can't afford.
   
   As a Manhattanite, I'm struggling to grasp the concept of an apartment that's just too cheap. I'm sorry. Your words make no sense to me.



3. Diamond and gold flip-flops

   $17,000 at H. Stern.



4. The Public Editor

   "Times readers will wake up on Tuesday morning to read a prominent story announcing the nominees for an artistically meaningless, blatantly commercial, shamefully exclusionary and culturally corrosive award competition."

   The lengthy definition of eligibility in the Tony rules can be summed up simply: a show qualifies if it's presented in a theater with more than 500 seats, situated north of 40th Street, south of 66th Street, west of Sixth Avenue and east of 10th.



5. Die bitch, die!

   Marlena is cold and alone in her jail cell. Little does she know her new "friend" Crystal is hatching a plot to get her killed.
   [so good i had to post the link again]

These Are The Days of our Lives

Marlena: I don't deserve it. I have killed 9 people, all friends and family.
Crystal: I guess we all have bad days...

I am watching soap opera in the waiting room of an STD clinic where I have been for 3 hours already. They have just called number forty-two. My number is fifty-one.

I don't mind waiting, it's a free clinic. What appals me is that none of the staff functions in real time. They drag through the hallways. They are heavy.

All four doctors have popped in and out several times, like doc-in-a-box, calling non-responsive numbers, and walked away, disappearing for long periods of time. I guess everybody has their tricks to slack off work.

I'm not complaining. My balls will be in their hands someday. Maybe today...

Dr. C, my physician (who passed away unexpectedly this past February) (well, I was told 'by-the way' matter-of-factually, at a party, he had died. Recently I thought that was impossible - doctors are not supposed to have sudden heart attacks. Went to his office so we could have a laugh. It's true.) (my friends say I jump from story to story without finishing any - an obvious exaggeration.) (they also say I spill and that in itself needs to be addressed in a separate post) sent me here a few years ago and I try to get back every six months for, not only HIV testing but a complete STD screening. (Syphilis is back, how scary is that?). Everybody owes it to the world to keep track of their sexual health.

This is the only way one can get an anonymous HIV test here. Unless you thrust those OTC tests. Actually we all do. As long as the result is "negative". If you do it through a regular clinic they are obligated by law to report it to the government. There are negative consequences to it but I am not fully aware of them all.

First World Class. Two worlds away, Brazil has one of the best HIV programs anywhere. BTW: First World. Third World. Who are the Second World countries? But I digress...

The doctor just came back and called number forty who - guess what - was not here. And he left.

I am still number fifty-one.

JOE. MY. GOD.

mr. jj FINALLY started his own blog. good reading. an excerpt:

Parents had not a whit of concern about their children playing directly behind the spewing pipes of a pest control truck. In fact, NOT being allowed to play in the poison fog was often held out as potential punishment for misbehavior.

I think this explains a lot about me.

"People ask me if I'm wearing deodorant"

"He is a financial analyst who happens to think that New Yorkers could use a hug. So it was, a month ago, that Mr. Littman began distributing hugs - free - from 1 to 4 p.m. on Sundays in Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village."

"He oughta get a job. He has nothing better to do," said Ms. Logan, a retired telephone operator. "I can't be bothered with this nonsense.''

The NYTimes: Greenwich Village Journal

I heart NY: my favorite alley

photos by mr. v

"Charles Lane, between Washington and West Streets north of Charles Street, most likely marks the northern boundary of the 18th-century Newgate State Prison and is named for Charles Christopher Amos, who owned the estate on which the present Charles Street and Lane are currently. (Christopher Street is also named for him; Amos Street became West 10th Street)

In the past, Charles Lane has been home to reclusive 'Gravity's Rainbow' author Thomas Pynchon.

Charles Lane retains its old Belgian Block paving.

Though the Newgate State Prison stood from 1797 only until 1828 (when it moved upstate and became Sing Sing) it is remembered presently by both Charles Lane and by a Squire Vickers mosaic in the IRT Christopher Street subway station"

Alleys of Greenwich Village

swinger

it could be dangerous...

you can now leave a comment pertaining each post. just click on 'comment' above the title. duh!

ps: BUT if you choose to comment as 'anonymous' i cannot respond. i guess that's the point. duh!

i miss my mother

the loneliest i have ever felt was after i lost my mother. no matter the amount of support from friends, i could never again comfort myself knowing someone in the world loved me so much and so unconditionally. i realized, then, how much i was going to forever miss my mother. and it still hurts.

i hope she was right and there is heaven and that clouds are made of cotton candy and that we will all end up there someday.

kiss your mother today for me.

[photo by heather champ]

the graphic eye

without much fanfare, graphic i is launched, hoping that, when i grow up, i can be this good.

mulberry street, soho

in 10 days...

When that happens the far right loses its most potent weapon for rallying against us: fear of the unknown, fear of a different way of looking at marriage, fear of marriage as an evolving institution.
The Advocate

Untitled #904
by Il Lee
Ball Point Pen on Paper, 2004
86x60

I can live with disagreement on the issue of civil marriage itself. But raising the issue to the level of a constitutional amendment is not something anyone can or should live with. It’s writing gay people out of their own country. It’s the political equivalent of domestic violence. Once that happens you’re a fool to stay in the relationship. You’re asking for more abuse. You’re enabling a movement that seeks to destroy you.
The deal breaker

You don't have to be cool to rule my world

You don't have to be beautiful
To turn me on
I just need your body, baby
From dusk till dawn
You don't need experience
To turn me out
You just leave it all up to me
I'll show you what it's all about

You don't have to be rich to be my girl
You don't have to be cool to rule my world
Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with
I just want your extra time and your KISS

1. the photos that lost the war

   all americans owe it to themselves to look at the images and to begin to ask hard questions about what's going on in iraq.



2. The Dangers of Demonizing Crystal Users


3. It's the Bomb, stupid!

   "As crass as it is visionary, Godzilla belongs with—and might well trump—the art films Hiroshima Mon Amour and Dr. Strangelove as a daring attempt to fashion a terrible poetry from the mind-melting horror of atomic warfare."
   
   anyone up for it, let me know...



4. ankle zippers will surely come back someday


5. Name changed via a.s.

happy birthday paul ferrer, my favorite dj

i still need a job...

on a different note, i have replaced my guestmap (maybe i have NO guests) with the so prevalent Wish List, which, in a way, could be VERY telling. And the timing is so apropos...

i heart ny

1. boy with a pipe
   

   The sale of a single painting for more than $100 million is an occasion for reflection.
   
   For us ordinary mortals, it is time to remember that it only costs money to acquire art, not to appreciate it. an hour's quiet contemplation in a small corner of a great museum, in a commercial gallery, or in a private home is an hour without price. and we are fortunate to dwell in a city filled with art and people who make art.
   from The New York Sun

   
   [when did The New York Sun become such a great paper? for 25 cents, it has become a daily reading.]

friends.forever?

dedicated to Rodrigo.

Today was declared a National Mourning Day because of the 'Friends' finale.

How apropos...

So no one told you life was gonna be this way
Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's D.O.A.
It's like you're always stuck in second gear
When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even
your year, but

I'll be there for you
When the rain starts to pour
I'll be there for you
Like I've been there before
I'll be there for you
'Cause you're there for me too

When I came out, a wonderful thing happened: my first lesson on true friendship. Just out of High School. Some 'friends' dropped off my life but the ones that got closer, those are my oldest friends: Leo and Valeria.

I have had two really dark periods in my life: the year after my mother died and this past year.

These were hard times for me but they were also hard on my friends. I could offer very little in terms of friendship. But i needed so much... My one plead was: DO NOT GIVE UP ON ME.

The weeding went on again. People dropped off, new friends were added (Donn and Steven S.), past friends re-acquainted with (Regina and Lisa).

Praise the lord for true friends: without them I would be like the Titanic passengers that did not get into a raft: a HUGE disaster.

Here's the thing:
You can forever watch 'Friends' re-runs or you can write your very own new episodes.

I CHOOSE THE LATTER.

I'll be there for you
'Cause you're there for me too

courting tv

photo by manipulation

judging judy

Watching court tv, I wonder: do those americans expose themselves to ridicule just for the warhol minutes?

No, they are just plain stupid.

They are so stupid that they do not recognize when they are on the wrong side and they believe they can prove their point in front of a live audience.

AND, at the same time, use up their minutes. CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

Avenida Lopez Mateos (Ensenada) [heather champ]

cinco de mayo means the fifth of mayandsoup du jour means soup of the day

cinco de mayo IS NOT mexico's independence day.

[by the way, the title is a quote from today's 'The Ellen DeGeneres Show'. it was her best show yet. so if you did not watch or tivo it, try to catch a re-run later today.]

Sorry and thank you. I seem to be pissing off all the people that care about me.

Mr V,

A sugestão e torcida para que você volte é por saudades de tê-lo conosco. Também não gosto muito do labor e brain drain já que sua formação é mérito da sua família e país. Finalmente, a proposta americana para o mundo sucks big time. É egoísta, ...  Well, that goes without explaining much...

Ainda dos Estados Unidos você pode enviar seu CV para todos os contatos da sua área que tiver no Brasil, grandes magazines, empresas brasileiras exportadoras de vestuário e calçados. A situação de emprego no Brasil no geral não está boa, mas estes índices revelam muito mais as dificuldades do emprego de pessoas com pouca educação e/ou experiência. Não são o nosso caso. O setor de exportações está indo muito bem. Uma pesquisa no google pode ajudar. Networking de amigos e conhecidos também.

Em tempo, a feira hippie tem sustentado a FTG e suas três filhas, agora adolescentes este tempo todo. Mas eu não estava pensando necessariamente nesta opção para você. We care, don't be an ass.

Bom trabalho.

Mr LV

new york at $50 a dayori really, really heart new york

The moment I decided to consider the option of leaving New York City was the moment I fell in love with it all over again.

This is how that day went:

1. 8am
   I woke up in my $30 a day room. It reminds me of Jean Genet's cell in Our Lady of the Flowers, but only since last night when I bought the book for $1.00 at The LGBT Center book fair. The room is depressing but only when i'm inside of it and awake. So I get ready fast and leave.
   
   From the outside, I love the building. It's across the Hudson River Park just like those other fancy buildings. It even has historical AND cultural appeal (I think): it houses Jane Street Theatre --- where I saw the original production of Hedwig --- and it was originally the American Seamen's Friend Society Institute, where survivors of the Titanic disaster were taken to.




2. 9am
   I biked down the waterfront to Cafe Angelique on Bleecker and Grove. They didn't charge me for the (excellent) coffee, only for the muffin ($1.90) because I'm a regular (Cheers, anyone?). There are free copies of the NYTimes to read (and look for jobs). As I walked in, Marisa Monte was singing, a compilation I had made for them. It warms my heart.




3. 10am
   I headed to the Apple Store in SoHo where one can access the w3 for free and on their computers, if needed. I check emails, I read blogs and post to my own blog. And I spent 2 hours doing so. No salesperson bothers me.




4. 12pm
   I left the store, walked through Soho (my bike was left behind) and through the touristic part of Chinatown until I cross that feeble line that separates it from the REAL Chinatown. That line was pointed out to me by Alex, my good friend from HK. He showed me this unmarked door that opens up a passage to a market in China. Inside the market all signs and all faces are chinese and I feel foreign in New York. I have lunch for $2.75 - anything you want to eat - over rice, of course.
   
   I want my next apartment to be in Chinatown.




5. 1pm
   I take the subway ($1.66 when you buy a $10.00 card)to the Upper East Side to see the Lucian Freud Show (free). I cry when I see "The Brigadier". I've been crying a lot lately, much neede cleansing...
   
   On the first floor there are the paintings and on the second floor they are showing pictures and a movie of Freud at work. There is a picture of him painting his grandson, Albie, and you can see the kid is upset he has to pose. And when you see the painting downstairs again, you see it for the first time. I cry again. (you can - and should - download the catalog here)




6. 2pm
   The Met is only 2 blocks away and that's where I go to re-write my resume and write some letters. Being inside the museum inspires me. They suggest you pay $9.00 admission. It's more than fair for what you get and I do not mind paying IF I were working. Instead I go to the gift shop where, all the way in the back, there is an unsupervised entrance to the museum. Not that they would stop you, I think. But I would be embarassed if they did. I sit by the temple of Dendur, a favorite spot.




7. 3pm
   I walk back from 81st street inside Central Park. It was a beautiful sunny-but-not-hot Spring day. Light can do wonders to one's mood. On 51st Street I met my friend Regina, who I went to College with in Brazil. She works nearby and treats me to lunch and good conversation ($0.00).




8. 4pm
   I spent a couple of hours at The LGBT Center's cybercenter where, for $3.00/hr you can use a computer with the latest operational systems and a T1 internet connection. If anything, The LGBT Center is a wonderful place that will give you a different perspective on the bubble that is the gay world where most of my friends and I live in. ($6.00)




9. 8pm
   showered and rested i head to my friend steven's for home-made burgers and american idol. and bullshit talk. ($0.00)




10. 11pm
    Back into my room and happy.
    Tired as it has been a long day. Which is good because then I fell asleep quickly, without time to think about the room I'm sleeping in. Which is not half as bad as the cell Jean Genet lived in.

i still need a job...

1. but do you call your mother?



2. Pigbacking on other people's wi-fi. ethic standards for the new millenium.

   Was this stealing? Was this borrowing? Was this indulging in a person's God-given right to go online in the digital age? Was it a neighbor's fault for not securing his or her network?
   
   The answer to those questions depends on whom you ask.
   
   Some people hemmed and hawed over the ethical aspects, but not one person said, "Do not do this."

   Confessions of a Piggybacker

my favorite living painter

Then there was the brigadier: in the studio it looked flat and conventional. Mr. Freud seemed to be fussing over the medals on the uniform. I wondered why he was aspiring to paint like Reynolds.

But the picture looks different finished. The floorboards (which he did last) snap the composition into place and push space back, vertiginously; the brigadier's boots, shiny black (a different black than the black of the uniform), thrust toward us. The image is deeply, provocatively unfashionable, as are the pictures of the horse and of the Irish woman.

It is also unprecedented. It doesn't imitate Reynolds. It doesn't look like any formal English portrait. The brigadier is represented as an endangered species, a classic character out of time. His uniform is unbuttoned, his stomach bulges out of it. He is antiheroic and sympathetic. The formal drama derives from the swooping red stripe down the seam of his crossed left leg, and from the sheer audacity of Mr. Freud revising such an anachronistic genre.

Lucian Freud, From the Studio to the Gallery

Lucian Freud: recent works
@ Acquavella Galleries
April 28, 2004 - May 27, 2004

things could be worse

one of my biggest phobias is swimming in deep waters. or murky waters. or anywhere that is not lined with tiles...

Public Service Announcement:
If your airplane crashes in the ocean
You might think that once your airplane crashes into the open sea, things couldn't get any worse. Not so.

As any B-movie fan knows, the next hazard for survivors is sharks.

1. First of all, there's no need to panic - most of the time - as long as the survivors are in a life raft. Without a life raft, however, the situation might be different.
   

   Once you're in the water, there is concern. Sharks can, and occasionally do, damage human beings. Humans can be attractive targets, especially if they're bleeding.



2. The unlucky can expect three types of ''unprovoked shark bites'':

   "Hit-and-run" bites, in which the shark bites a human while apparently perceiving that the human is one of the shark's customary food sources - for example, a seal. The shark probably recognizes immediately upon biting that the human is not the food it was seeking, and then releases the human and does not return.

   "Bump-and-bite" bites, in which the shark circles and bumps its victim before biting. These bites usually occur in deeper water and may involve repeated bites and/or sustained bites, and severe injuries.

   "Sneak" bites, which occur without warning. These bites, like bump-and-bite bites, usually occur in deeper water and may involve repeated bites and/or sustained bites, and severe injuries.



3. sharks are more likely to go after solitary swimmers and are attracted by shiny jewelry and bright colors

   The safety orange/yellow used in [life vests] is referred to as 'yum-yum yellow' by shark biologists. But it's a trade-off. To be readily seen by rescue folks in the air or from a vessel, you also must be seen by sharks.



4. For those stuck in the water, "the following actions are advised":
   • float vertically and move as little as possible. Someone lying horizontally in the water is more likely to resemble sharks' typical prey.
   • Remain in a group "at all costs" and gather together as much floating material as possible.
   • Do not remove any clothing, including shoes. Sharks generally bite unclothed people - and those with bare feet - before they bite those wearing clothing.
   • Do not urinate or defecate while sharks are in the area.
   • If you are injured and bleeding, stop the bleeding as quickly as possible. If a group of people is in the water, form a circle around the bleeding survivor.



5. if a shark actually bites and does not let go, the best thing to do is to not fight the shark, besides trying to get its mouth open. Any motion, such as jerking away from the shark, will lead to much more severe wounds and can be much more devastating than the actual bite. Opening a shark's mouth should not be attempted by hitting the animal, since that reflects a 'prey action.' it's best to go after the gills or the eyes and poke them, if reachable.



6. sharks aren't the only creatures to worry about: the report concludes by citing yet more potential hazards, including barracuda, venomous sea snakes, electric rays (also known as torpedoes), stingrays, sea anemones and even estuarine crocodiles

[condensed from this NYTimes article]

gone fishing

i mean, i need a job. asap. or else...

so far i have 2 votes for moving back to brasil: mr. lp and mr. lv
both know me for 25 YEARS.
Happy Bodas de Pratas!

[this post is a courtesy of the Apple Store SoHo where you can use the internet for free on the coolest computers ever made and where NY BLOGGERS will happen @ 6PM today]

Urban Dictionary

frankie knuckles was playing two weeks ago and i saw jesus!

Hiatus, addiction & lies

[Cartoon by Matthew Diffee]

Alright, i give in. I'm addicted to blogging and cannot stay away. I tried:
Hi my name is Vasco and it has been 24 hours since I last posted...

[image]

the freda book club

The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Joy Fowler
[listen to the author read an excerpt]

"Is Austen all about love and courtship? Or money and class? Is she about second chances? Having it all or settling for less? And what of the characters who don't have happy endings? For that matter, what is a happy ending? ''What if you had a happy ending and didn't notice?''.

Talk about parallel universes -- just imagine a book club discussing a book about a book club discussing a book.

the freda book club ii

mrs ff, of delray beach, fl. asked me to suggest a book for her club when she was visiting ny last week.

my suggestion:

Blindness
by Jose Saramago
1998 Nobel Literature Prize Winner

"In an unnamed city in an unnamed country, a man sitting in his car waiting for a traffic light to change is suddenly struck blind. But instead of being plunged into darkness, this man sees everything white, as if he 'were caught in a mist or had fallen into a milky sea.' A Good Samaritan offers to drive him home (and later steals his car); his wife takes him by taxi to a nearby eye clinic where they are ushered past other patients into the doctor's office. Within a day the man's wife, the taxi driver, the doctor and his patients, and the car thief have all succumbed to blindness. As the epidemic spreads, the government panics and begins quarantining victims in an abandoned mental asylum--guarded by soldiers with orders to shoot anyone who tries to escape. So begins Portuguese author José Saramago's gripping story of humanity under siege, written with a dearth of paragraphs, limited punctuation, and embedded dialogue minus either quotation marks or attribution. At first this may seem challenging, but the style actually contributes to the narrative's building tension, and to the reader's involvement.

but i digress

Fixing Nemo

• level v: love the name but would you eat in a place where you've had sleazy sex? dogs don't.




• Letter On Corpulence by William Banting, the first popular modern diet book was written by an undertaker. am i the only one that finds this funny?




• The US government is the opposite of 'The Sixth Sense.': They don't see any dead people.




• Paper of Record: you're it. Live with it.




• 'Matrix' co-creator ready for sex change: Larry Wachowski is working toward becoming "Linda," surgically and otherwise.




• word of the day: "Default, dear Brutus, long ago left the legal meaning of ''failure to perform an obligation'' to leap into computer lingo as ''the option selected by a computer when the user is too lazy to choose.'' Now it has hopped into the fashion world: ''Do you have a default outfit?'' asked Kate Novack of Sarah Jessica Parker in Time magazine. (Answer: a T-shirt or a black shift.) "

May Day! May Day!

i need a job asap.

this blog is on a hiatus until i get one. or go back to brasil. whichever comes first.

i heart ny Trees

Gay lovers go out on limb

Two lovers, naked as jaybirds and apparently as crazy as looneybirds, climbed a tree in Central Park yesterday - and put on a bizarre four-hour show that drew cops and hundreds of gawkers.

In a shocking new twist on the birds and the bees, a 17-year-old boy and a 32-year-old preoperative transsexual offered an X-rated sex spectacle - refusing cops' pleas to leave their unlikely love nest 50 feet above the Chess and Checkers House.

(...)

The incident came just days after two Canadian women took a swim - fully clothed - in the Central Park reservoir.

Yesterday's surreal antics prompted tourists like Louise Sharp, 24, of Scotland to change their sightseeing plans.

"We were going to go to the Empire State Building, but we thought we'd stay here instead," Sharp said.