<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153</id><updated>2011-09-04T16:18:53.271+01:00</updated><title type='text'>An Andro-Diary</title><subtitle type='html'>'One is not born a woman, rather becomes one'</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-966781305146065452</id><published>2011-03-14T02:42:00.012Z</published><updated>2011-03-16T03:52:40.900Z</updated><title type='text'>Quando Madonna Virou Loira?</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OyaiNtXb-ys" title="YouTube video player" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;"Everybody" (1982) foi o primeiro single de Madonna que conquistou os topos das tabelas musicais norte-americanas. Invocando a minha infância nos EUA, recordo muito bem a importância que a Madonna teve para os jovens, filhos de pais emigrantes. Como é do conhecimento geral, os EUA apresentam uma grande hibridez em termos de raças e culturas e desde cedo, os jovens têm a tendência de formar grupos com quem sentem uma maior identificação iconográfica e sociocultural, uma vez que partilham a mesma língua-mãe, a mesma cultura musical, o mesmo estrato social, etc. O facto de ser filho de pais portugueses significava que não tinha lugar em determinados grupos. Lembro-me muito bem que os meus amigos eram quase sempre de descendência hispânica, latino-europeia e latino-americana, logo, pertencentes a uma classe social mais baixa. Na escola marcávamos a diferença (...)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #990000;"&gt;Madonna conseguiu penetrar nesta hibridez e, apropriando-se de um estilo, de certa forma, “americanizado”, manteve um vincado orgulho em exibir as suas raízes e origens, o que fez com que conquistasse um público muito diversificado (...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;texto em construção.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-966781305146065452?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/966781305146065452/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/quando-madonna-virou-loira.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/966781305146065452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/966781305146065452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/quando-madonna-virou-loira.html' title='Quando Madonna Virou Loira?'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/OyaiNtXb-ys/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-5658560556034233752</id><published>2011-03-12T01:31:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-03-12T01:31:28.940Z</updated><title type='text'>EQUALS</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4qXbFWt9f0Y" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-5658560556034233752?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/5658560556034233752/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/equals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5658560556034233752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5658560556034233752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/equals.html' title='EQUALS'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/4qXbFWt9f0Y/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-2991780183440269715</id><published>2011-03-06T20:27:00.003Z</published><updated>2011-03-06T20:27:17.197Z</updated><title type='text'>My Favorite Lilith</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tkq_QmpXrpE/TXPuCer6yLI/AAAAAAAAAh4/Z4LSeFKaTQ4/s1600/Lilith2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" l6="true" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tkq_QmpXrpE/TXPuCer6yLI/AAAAAAAAAh4/Z4LSeFKaTQ4/s320/Lilith2.gif" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-2991780183440269715?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/2991780183440269715/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-favorite-lilith.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2991780183440269715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2991780183440269715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-favorite-lilith.html' title='My Favorite Lilith'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tkq_QmpXrpE/TXPuCer6yLI/AAAAAAAAAh4/Z4LSeFKaTQ4/s72-c/Lilith2.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-2195930408736707782</id><published>2011-03-06T20:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-03-06T20:23:03.327Z</updated><title type='text'>Child Language and Gender</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Jorge Correia Orfão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Master in Feminist Studies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;FLUC&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Seminário de Feminismo e Linguística&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;February the 10th of 2011&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Abstract&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This essay intends to assess how language and gender are related to society, helping us understand that both constitute an individual’s social identity. When we learn a language, we are being socialized and influenced by patterns of doing language/actions. Considering that socialization has its foundation on the development of language, I will expand the idea of how gender roles are socially acquired. Illustrating Mary Talbot and Deborah Cameron’s “feminist critique of language”, I will focus on the analysis of how language acquisition may influence children’s gendering processes. In order to contextualize the relationship between language and gender acquisition, I will present an outline of theories of language development and will explore the usage-based theory of language acquisition, in which Michael Tomasello explains the foundational social-cognitive skills of child language. Subsequently, I will comment on a short episode of Phineas and Ferb, a cartoon show produced by the Disney Channel, in order to evaluate the extent how such programs may (or may not) facilitate social development concerning language and gender. This review attempts to indicate how masculine and feminine features are represented in the cartoon show, considering some ethnographic outcomes presented in Marjorie Harness Goodwin’s investigations about children’s socialization. (...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-2195930408736707782?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/2195930408736707782/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/child-language-and-gender.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2195930408736707782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2195930408736707782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/child-language-and-gender.html' title='Child Language and Gender'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-6164746351695939643</id><published>2011-03-06T20:15:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-03-12T01:36:49.189Z</updated><title type='text'>Queer Approaches Interpreting Trumpet, a novel by Jackie Kay</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Jorge Correia Orfão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Master in Feminist Studies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;FLUC&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Seminário de Ficção, Memória e História &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;February the 4th of 2011&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Transgender history should allow the gender ambiguous to speak (…) necessary because without &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;such histories, we are left with only a bare trace of a life lived in defiance of gender norms. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Halberstam 2005: 49)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Abstract&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The following&amp;nbsp;essay is based on Jackie Kay’s novel, Trumpet (1998), winner of the Guardian Fiction Prize. I will attempt to explore to what extent does the prefix “trans-” disrupt our conventional categories of gender and sexuality, and to what extent does it reinforce them. Showing how the different characters of the novel speak about Joss and Millie Moody’s “secret”, I will try to demonstrate how identity is constructed or “performed”. The essay draws on Michel Foucault’s “discursive fact” theory that illustrates “the regime of power-knowledge-pleasure that sustains the discourse on human sexuality” (Foucault 1998/1978: 11). His discussion about gender and sexuality will help us reflect about what post-foucaultian queer theorists have to say about such issues. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Queer theorist&lt;/strong&gt;, Judith Butler, presents a scheme that involves the distinction between performance and &lt;strong&gt;“performativity”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (Butler 1990). Considering the fact that “heterosexuality” is legitimized as the norm, the idea of “heteronormativity” will help justify the subjectivity “discourses” may assume. This will help to account for Judith Halberstam’s discussion about the transgender life. She explains the motivations to read and/or write about the transgender subject. Summarizing Jay Prosser’s transgender theories, Halberstam underlines Prosser’s critic towards the theory of “performativity”. Her argumentations will suggest a distinction between “the real” and the “realness” of individuals like Joss Moody. I will report to how the “realness” of Joss’s identity is “(re)presented” and interpreted. By remembering the life of the main character, core ideas in the history and development of gender studies and gender theory are examined in each section of the essay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The essay presents eight sections in which different theorists will be mentioned. Each section comments on a theoretical topic that has its own contribution in the continuing development of queer theory/theories. &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Such theories have approached relevant social issues that help explain how gender and sexuality is being managed within communities. Each section introduces a topic that requires further studies. What is important to note is the fact that, if we link each topic presented, it will help support the response to what I am aiming to explore, when one thinks about the transgender subject. The interpretation of the novel I propose, seeks to evaluate how queer theory can be analyzed through literature. This will enhance the idea that through literature, sociological approaches can be evaluated and expanded. (...)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;in red: revision/reediting needed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-6164746351695939643?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/6164746351695939643/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/queer-approaches-interpreting-trumpet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6164746351695939643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6164746351695939643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/queer-approaches-interpreting-trumpet.html' title='Queer Approaches Interpreting Trumpet, a novel by Jackie Kay'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-6091146715877431100</id><published>2011-03-06T20:07:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-03-06T20:21:34.725Z</updated><title type='text'>Women In Red: Almodovarian Representations of Gender</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Abstract&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Jorge Correia Orfão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Master in Feminist Studies &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;FLUC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Methodologies Seminar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;February the 18th of 2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The following interpretation of Pedro Almodóvar’s film Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios (1988) will address gender representation by analyzing the leading female characters of the film. After a period of repression and censorship as a result of the Franco dictatorship, democracy was established in Spain, and the country underwent a process of modernization. In order to understand why Pedro Almodóvar’s films are of interés nacional, I will briefly place him within the context of Spanish National Cinema. This will help us understand not only the intertextual references in Almodóvar’s movies to the Modern Art period of the second quarter of the twentieth century, but also how he represents masculinity and femininity through modern techniques of doing art cinema. The purpose of such an interpretation is to display gender as something that can be “represented”, raising further discussion on the performative nature of gender as something that is not innate. Almodóvar’s films have been heavily debated, analyzed, praised and criticized, and of course, Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios is not an exception. One thing is certain though: no matter how hopeless and ironic some scenes are, there is a certain vitality that always comes through and finds an echo in the viewers. (...) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-6091146715877431100?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/6091146715877431100/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/women-in-red-almodovarian.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6091146715877431100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6091146715877431100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2011/03/women-in-red-almodovarian.html' title='Women In Red: Almodovarian Representations of Gender'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-3144303019076845893</id><published>2010-11-20T21:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-11-20T21:20:57.155Z</updated><title type='text'>"When Man Enters Woman"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;When man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;enters woman,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;like the surf biting the shore,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;again and again,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;and the woman opens her mouth in pleasure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;and her teeth gleam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;like the alphabet,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;Logos appears milking a star,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;and the man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;inside of woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;ties a knot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;so that they will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;never again be separate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;and the woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;climbs into a flower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;and swallows its stem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;and Logos appears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;and unleashed their rivers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;This man,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;this woman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;with their double hunger,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;have tried to reach through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;the curtain of God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;and briefly they have,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;though God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;in His perversity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;unties the knot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Anne Sexton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-3144303019076845893?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/3144303019076845893/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/11/when-man-enters-woman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3144303019076845893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3144303019076845893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/11/when-man-enters-woman.html' title='&quot;When Man Enters Woman&quot;'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-3818720104582096958</id><published>2010-11-14T23:55:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-11-14T23:55:50.044Z</updated><title type='text'>4 x Ciência - Informação - Entrevista e Debate RTP N - Multimédia RTP</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tv1.rtp.pt/multimedia/progVideo.php?tvprog=17203&amp;amp;idpod=&amp;amp;sms_ss=blogger&amp;amp;at_xt=4ce076fdc353bf94,0"&gt;4 x Ciência - Informação - Entrevista e Debate RTP N - Multimédia RTP&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-3818720104582096958?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://tv1.rtp.pt/multimedia/progVideo.php?tvprog=17203&amp;idpod=&amp;sms_ss=blogger&amp;at_xt=4ce076fdc353bf94,0' title='4 x Ciência - Informação - Entrevista e Debate RTP N - Multimédia RTP'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/3818720104582096958/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/11/4-x-ciencia-informacao-entrevista-e.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3818720104582096958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3818720104582096958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/11/4-x-ciencia-informacao-entrevista-e.html' title='4 x Ciência - Informação - Entrevista e Debate RTP N - Multimédia RTP'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-8526614983525231489</id><published>2010-11-14T23:55:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-11-14T23:55:14.788Z</updated><title type='text'>Guia de la buena esposa</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mGLNOF95v_Q?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mGLNOF95v_Q?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_PT" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-8526614983525231489?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/8526614983525231489/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/11/guia-de-la-buena-esposa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8526614983525231489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8526614983525231489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/11/guia-de-la-buena-esposa.html' title='Guia de la buena esposa'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-2818866572276181901</id><published>2010-10-22T14:00:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T14:10:13.873+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A menina que calou o Mundo por 5 minutos</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kJzTZvAJf3c?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kJzTZvAJf3c?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-2818866572276181901?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/2818866572276181901/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/10/menina-que-calou-o-mundo-por-5-minutos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2818866572276181901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2818866572276181901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/10/menina-que-calou-o-mundo-por-5-minutos.html' title='A menina que calou o Mundo por 5 minutos'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-6492586172204950195</id><published>2010-10-22T13:39:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T13:42:26.345+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Príncipe saudita condenado a prisão perpétua por matar empregado</title><content type='html'>O príncipe Saud Abdulaziz bin Nasser al Saud, neto do rei saudita Abdullah, foi condenado a prisão perpétua, um dia depois de ter sido condenado pelo assassínio de um empregado, com quem teria relações sexuais, durante a sua estadia num hotel de luxo, em Londres. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 15 de Fevereiro, a polícia encontrou Bandar Abdulaziz, de 32 anos, deitado numa cama com ferimentos na cara, lábios rasgados, dentes partidos e sinais de estrangulamento. Ontem, o tribunal de Old Bailey condenou o príncipe pelo seu assassinato. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Durante o julgamento, Bandar foi descrito como um “escravo” do príncipe saudita. Câmaras do circuito interno do Landmark Hotel, no centro da capital britânica, onde estavam hospedados para umas curtas férias, mostram Saud Abdulaziz bin Nasser al Saud a entrar no elevador seguido por Bandar Abdulaziz e a começar a espancá-lo, sem resistência. O príncipe sai por segundos e volta a entrar para desferir mais alguns murros. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A acusação argumentou que Bandar Abdulaziz foi morto no culminar de abusos sádicos. Saud Abdulaziz bin Nasser al Saud reconheceu as agressões, mas negou que tivesse assassinado o seu empregado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Durante todo o julgamento, o príncipe garantiu que não é gay. Mas funcionários do hotel descreveram a relação entre empregado e patrão como “obviamente homossexual”, e há relatos de um massagista que foi chamado ao quarto do príncipe para massagens de cariz sexual. Dois acompanhantes, Pablo Silva e Louis Szikora, também testemunharam que tiveram relações sexuais com ele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A homossexualidade paga-se com a morte na Arábia Saudita, e por isso o mais provável é que o príncipe, de 34 anos, cumpra a sua pena no Reino Unido. Segundo a imprensa britânica, o príncipe cumprirá uma pena mínima de 20 anos de prisão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;﻿20.10.2010 - 11:20 Por PÚBLICO&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-6492586172204950195?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/6492586172204950195/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/10/principe-saudita-condenado-prisao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6492586172204950195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6492586172204950195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/10/principe-saudita-condenado-prisao.html' title='Príncipe saudita condenado a prisão perpétua por matar empregado'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-3075805673797569661</id><published>2010-10-16T18:47:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T13:54:33.074+01:00</updated><title type='text'>V Festival TRAMA traz Justin Bond ao Ateneu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Slão Nobre. 16.10.2010. 23.30 horas.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Justin Bond vai apresentar-se no Ateneu Comercial do Porto no âmbito da 5ª edição do TRAMA Festival de Artes Performativas, no próximo dia 16, a partir das 23.30 horas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Justin Bond apresenta-se nesta edição do TRAMA na companhia do músico, compositor e produtor Lance Horne e dos músicos portugueses Eduardo Raon (harpa e guitarra), João Martins (saxofone), Jorge Queijo bateria), Pedro Gonçalves (contrabaixo). Justin Bond é uma das vozes mais distintas e reconhecidas da cena “queer” da downtown nova-iorquina, vencedor de vários prémios e tendo dedicado uma grande parte da sua carreira ao show de cabaret Kiki and Herb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Os ingressos podem ser adquiridos junto da organização do Festival.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A 5ª edição do TRAMA Festival de Artes Performativas realiza-se de 14 a 17 de Outubro, de novo em vários espaços do Porto, numa iniciativa organizada pela Fundação de Serralves e o Brrr_Live Art, com a colaboração de vários parceiros da cidade. Serão apresentadas várias propostas em estreia nas áreas da música, teatro, dança, performance e ópera digital numa exploração das suas potencialidades performativas e experimentais. Informal e inflexível, a 5ª edição do TRAMA, e à semelhança dos anos anteriores, organiza-se num percurso pela cidade do Porto, congregando agentes e espaços culturais distintos e dialogando com os públicos em espaços institucionais e não-convencionais, interiores e exteriores.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MAS QUEM É JUSTIN BOND&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Justin Bond é uma das vozes mais distintas e reconhecidas da cena ‘queer’ da downtown nova-iorquina. Cantor, escritor de canções e performer, Bond foi recentemente descrito como “um lingote de ouro da nova depressão” por Hilton Als no New Yorker. Vencedor dos prémios Obie, Bessie e Ethyl Eichelberger, e nomeado para um prémio Tony, dedicou uma grande parte da sua carreira ao show de cabaret “Kiki and Herb”, durante mais de uma década.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O duo Kiki and Herb surgiu em 1992 na Castro Street, interpretando o casal de um pianista octagenário (Kenny Mellman), acompanhante da velha e decadente diva de cabaret Kiki (Justin Bond). Os espectáculos consistiam em reinterpretações de canções conhecidas e monólogos em que a tónica rapidamente passava da crónica pessoal e trágico-humorística, aos comentários políticos acutilantes e à abordagem a temas taboo de forma ousada e provocatória. Este cabaret de espírito punk de Kiki and Herb viria a ver o sucesso reflectido numa carreira que passou pela Broadway, Royal Albert Hall, Carnegie Hall, Knitting Factory, Soho Theatre de Londres e pelo próprio Auditório de Serralves, entre muitos outros.&lt;br /&gt;Em 2007, Bond estreou Justin Bond is Close To You, uma reinterpretação do clássico álbum dos Carpenters Close To You, apresentado como parte da série Joe’s Pub in the Park no Central Park e depois na Opera House de Sidney na Australia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Justin Bond decidiu recentemente abandonar a personagem Kiki para se dedicar à criação das suas próprias canções.&lt;br /&gt;Durante os seus estudos no programa de M.A. em Cenografia na Central St. Martins College of Art and Design de Londres, após ter contacto com as teorias e práticas de ‘world-making performance’ (em que o performer conceptualiza um ‘mundo’ personalizado no seu próprio corpo), Justin Bond percebeu que, com Kiki, havia criado um ‘mundo’ cheio de angústias, raiva e caos, que o absorvia há já muito tempo. Estava pronto para dar um novo passo, que se manifestou com a escrita das suas próprias canções, onde se integrariam o seu próprio ‘mundo’, o seu trabalho, a sua prática artística, e a relação com o mundo exterior e a sua comunidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em 2008, foi aplaudido pela crítica com espectáculo Lustre estreado no PS122 na East Village de Nova Iorque, com uma tournée posterior pelo Reino Unido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Em 2009, lançou o seu primeiro EP com músicas originais, Pink Slip, que decidiu começar a escrever na sua viagem até Short Mountain, no Tennessee, para o encontro de Radical Fairies (movimento gay iniciado nos anos 1970 de carácter indígena na medida em que a natureza gay aparece como central e fundadora da tradição, rejeitando qualquer imitação de padrões heterossexuais, numa redefinição da identidade ‘queer’ através da espiritualidade), movimento ao qual Bond está ligado.&lt;br /&gt;É ainda um ‘Emcee’ regular da série de performances Weimar New York, apresentada em locais como o MoMA de São Francisco, The Spiegeltent e no Joe’s Pub apresentado no Public Theatre de Nova Iorque.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Muitos devem recordar-se ainda da sua prestação no filme de John Cameron Mitchell, Shortbus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Entidade organizadora&lt;/strong&gt;: Fundação de Serralves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Web&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ateneucomercialporto.pt/festivaltrama.com"&gt;: festivaltrama.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ateneucomercialporto.pt/festivaltrama.com"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-3075805673797569661?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/3075805673797569661/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/10/v-festival-trama-traz-justin-bond-ao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3075805673797569661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3075805673797569661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/10/v-festival-trama-traz-justin-bond-ao.html' title='V Festival TRAMA traz Justin Bond ao Ateneu'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-505076314801513740</id><published>2010-08-09T21:25:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T21:27:30.720+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Heart of the Woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;O what to me the little room   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;That was brimmed up with prayer and rest;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;He bade me out into the gloom,   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;And my breast lies upon his breast.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;O what to me my mother's care,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;The house where I was safe and warm;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;The shadowy blossom of my hair   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Will hide us from the bitter storm.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;O hiding hair and dewy eyes,   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;I am no more with life and death,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;My heart upon his warm heart lies,   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;My breath is mixed into his breath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W. B. Yeats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-505076314801513740?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/505076314801513740/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/08/heart-of-woman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/505076314801513740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/505076314801513740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/08/heart-of-woman.html' title='The Heart of the Woman'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-3005834385543522645</id><published>2010-07-30T20:20:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T20:20:36.246+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lady is Dead</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/l_2AgaZJWro&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/l_2AgaZJWro&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-3005834385543522645?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/3005834385543522645/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/07/lady-is-dead.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3005834385543522645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3005834385543522645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/07/lady-is-dead.html' title='The Lady is Dead'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-745290775081702190</id><published>2010-04-25T15:41:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T16:15:58.724+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Carolina Beatriz Ângelo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S9RV1pW0cyI/AAAAAAAAAgI/JQwKEkRCAos/s1600/Carolina.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 244px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464086628030247714" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S9RV1pW0cyI/AAAAAAAAAgI/JQwKEkRCAos/s320/Carolina.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;"A 1ª República foi proclamada a 5 de Outubro de 1910 e durou até 1926. Neste período procurou-se melhorar as condições de vida da população. Apesar de todas as espectativas, Portugal permaneceu pouco desenvolvido e a participação na 1ª Guerra Mundial acentuou as dificuldades económicas. Os governos republicanos não conseguiram solucionar os problemas. O descontentamento aumentou e ocorreram inúmeras greves e revoltas. Apoiei o novo regime republicano e fui a 1ª mulher a votar em Portugal, nas primeiras eleições depois da implantação da República, em 1911."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Carolina Beatriz Ângelo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1877-1911&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-745290775081702190?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/745290775081702190/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/04/carolina-beatriz-angelo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/745290775081702190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/745290775081702190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/04/carolina-beatriz-angelo.html' title='Carolina Beatriz Ângelo'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S9RV1pW0cyI/AAAAAAAAAgI/JQwKEkRCAos/s72-c/Carolina.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-8050564087295778711</id><published>2010-04-20T03:07:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T03:35:39.678+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As Dúas Marías</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S80NpHlU2fI/AAAAAAAAAgA/087zInn7WtA/s1600/2+marias.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 281px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462036923131681266" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S80NpHlU2fI/AAAAAAAAAgA/087zInn7WtA/s320/2+marias.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#990000;"&gt;Uma vísita a Santigo de Compostela, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#990000;"&gt;em pleno Ano Santo 2010, o que se descobre. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;'As Dúas Marías': Unha vida de resistencia fronte á represión franquista&lt;br /&gt;Entrevistamos a Henrique Rivadulla Corcón director do documental 'Coralia e Maruxa. As irmás Fandiño'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marcos S. Pérez - 09:00 14/04/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tags: dúas marías documental irmáns fandiño rivadulla corcón&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A estatua das Dúas Marías, situada na entrada da Alameda de Compostela, é ben coñecida por todos, santiagueses ou non. De aí partiron grandes manifestacións nos últimos anos, e moitos coñecen a sigularidade destas dúas mulleres que en plena ditadura escandalizaban os poderes estabelecidos coa súa actitude provocadora e as súa roupa de cores. Na mente de todos ficaron como dúas tolas, pero detrás de todo iso hai unha historia de represión política na guerra e na postguerra. O documental que este venres se estrea, dirixido por Rivadulla Corcón, conta a verdadeira historia das irmás Fandiño, "a cor naquela cidade tan gris".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En Compostela, e practicamente en todo o país, case todo o mundo oíu falar das 'Dúas Marías' e viu a súa estatua na Alameda. Pero realmente coñécese a súa historia?&lt;br /&gt;A historia coñécese moi superficialmente. En Compostela hai moita xente que as recorda, que vía como saían pasear todos os días pola zona vella ás dúas da tarde ('as dúas en punto', así as chamaban), e que lembra a forma en que ían vestidas, con cores moi vivas, todo un espectáculo para a época, sobre todo tratándose de dúas mulleres, e sobre todo tratándose de Compostela. A cidade nos anos cincuenta e sesenta era un lugar moi gris, en moitos sentidos, e entre a cor da pedra e que a xente ía vestida de negro e gris, de maneira moi austera, daba a impresión de ser unha cidade moi triste. Elas dúas eran a cor nese mundo gris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estaban tolas, como quedou en parte na conciencia colectiva, ou había algo máis detrás desa actitude?&lt;br /&gt;Esa actitude levaba a pensar a todo o mundo que elas estaban tolas. Ademais eran moi retraídas e mantiñan unha relación moi distante cos veciños, permanecían recluídas na casa e negábanse a saír pola noite. En realidade a verdadeira razón de por que vestían así, ou se estaban tolas ou non, só o saben elas. Pero hai unha serie de feitos históricos innegábeis que de seguro influíron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relacionadas coa militacia anarquista da familia...&lt;br /&gt;Si, a familia Fandiño Ricart eran once irmáns, e cando menos tres deles eran militantes moi destacados da CNT en Galiza, tan destacados que un deles, Antonio Fandiño, chegou a ter responsabilidades moi importantes na CNT a nivel estatal durante a guerra. No 36 un dos irmán foi paseado, e outros dous fuxiron e estiveron agachados durante anos, sendo finalmente detidos e encarcerados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elas sufriron a represión dos fascistas?&lt;br /&gt;A policía presionounas moito a elas dúas, para que revelasen onde se agachaban os seus irmáns. Non houbo forma de demostralo até o momento, pero sábese que foron torturadas pola policía, e dise que unha delas foi violada no Pedroso. Pódese entender que en parte a súa 'loucura' ou a súa actitude estraña partise de aí, ou tamén poderiamos pensar que a 'loucura' fose simplemente un disfrace que elas usaban para sobrevivir nesa situación tan dura. Había unha represión directa, e había outras formas de represión; elas eran costureiras, pero despois da guerra as familias 'ben' de Santiago deixaron de facerlles encargos, por pertencer elas á familia á que pertencían, por pertencer aos vencidos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que vivían?&lt;br /&gt;Eran de familia humilde, fillas dun zapateiro, e despois da Guerra vivían moi mal, pero ían aguantando grazas á caridade e á axuda de moitas persoas da cidade. Pero era un tipo de caridade moi particular. En parte porque non estaría ben visto darlles publicamente unha axuda, e porque elas non a aceptarían, moita xente deixáballes cartos en varios comercios da cidade, sobre todo no Supermercado Carro (que aínda existe), na praza do Toural. Alí, Tito Carro dáballes comida e outros produtos cos cartos que fora deixando a xente, pero enganábaas dicíndolles que eran promocións dos produtos, agasallos das marcas... Seguramente elas sabían a verdade, pero seguían o xogo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daquela os cidadáns composteláns queríanlles ben...&lt;br /&gt;Conta Fermín Bescansa que nos anos sesenta unha treboada acabou co tellado da súa casa, e que para arranxalo organizouse unha colecta. En moi pouco tempo recadaron 250 mil pesetas, que na época era unha cantidade impresionante, máis o menos o que custaba un piso. Tamén conta Bescansa que cando entraron arranxar o teito, viron as ruíns condicións nas que vivían, pois a casa non tiña nin chan, que era de terra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En definitiva non podemos saber con certeza se a súa actitude rebelde tiña unha intencionalidade política...&lt;br /&gt;Non hai probas de que elas militasen na CNT, pero é moi posíbel que así fose. E en calquera caso, parece claro que tiñan unha ideoloxía de esquerdas. Polo tanto, creo que podemos pensar que a súa actitude era plenamente consciente e decidida, un acto de rebeldía e provocación ao réxime. Tamén era moi provocador, para a época, o feito de aceptar piropos dos estudantes, e de facer xogos románticos con eles, de facer as beiras e deixarse facer as beiras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que papel ten César Lombera na recuperación das irmáns Fandiño?&lt;br /&gt;César Lombera é unha peza clave na recuperación das irmáns Fandiño. Maruxa morreu no 1983, e aínda que as dúas eran coñecidas por todos os composteláns, Lombera pensaba que merecían unha homenaxe, e que todos coñecesen a súa historia. Durante anos propúxolle ao Concello facerlles un monumento, e despois de nove anos de intentalo, finalmente Xerardo Estévez accedeu, xa nos anos noventa, a instalalo na Alameda. Ese foi o inicio da recuperación da súa memoria. Moitos tomamos conciencia de que había que contar a súa historia, porque non podían pasar á historia como "dúas tolas".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Con que materiais contaches para o documental?&lt;br /&gt;Contamos con algunhas fotografías e un vídeo moi breve. E o resto do documental son as achegas da xentes que as coñeceu, ou que entendeu e estudou as circunstancias que tiveron que pasar, como Encarna Otero, o propio Lombera, Salvador García Bodaño, Bernardino Graña, Dionisio Pereira. E no documental aparece moito, evidentemente, a cidade de Compostela, que se erixe en protagonista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compostela ten moitos símbolos, evidentemente, pero as irmáns Fandiño poderían ser reivindicadas como símbolo de Santiago igualmente, non cres? Un símbolo vivo, humano, ademais.&lt;br /&gt;Pois precisamente fala diso Farruco, que é o narrador do documental. Conta que no enterro de Maruxa, unha persoa que coñecía de tomar cuncas pola Rúa de San Pedro díxolle que en Santiago había dous monumentos: a Catedral e as Marías, pero que as Marías tiñan unha vantaxe, que eran un monumento vivo, real, algo que nunca debeu pasar pero que pasara; que eran verdade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-8050564087295778711?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/8050564087295778711/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/04/as-duas-marias.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8050564087295778711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8050564087295778711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/04/as-duas-marias.html' title='As Dúas Marías'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S80NpHlU2fI/AAAAAAAAAgA/087zInn7WtA/s72-c/2+marias.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-7190683788910327240</id><published>2010-03-14T23:35:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-04-25T15:55:05.045+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Invenção</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Se é por mim que traço&lt;br /&gt;o teu retrato,&lt;br /&gt;a sobrancelha, a boca&lt;br /&gt;o pensamento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É por ti, também&lt;br /&gt;que já o guardo&lt;br /&gt;e o demoro naquilo que eu&lt;br /&gt;invento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mão descida ali&lt;br /&gt;o ombro inclinado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os dedos descuidados&lt;br /&gt;o gesto de que lembro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se é por mim que faço&lt;br /&gt;o teu retrato&lt;br /&gt;dizendo de ti mais do que&lt;br /&gt;entendo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É por ti que o testemunho&lt;br /&gt;e faço:&lt;br /&gt;o nariz, a face dissimulando os dentes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixo para o fim os teus lábios&lt;br /&gt;os olhos deste mar&lt;br /&gt;com a cor do luar&lt;br /&gt;a meio de Agosto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se desvendo de ti o sol-posto&lt;br /&gt;é porque vejo o coração&lt;br /&gt;amar&lt;br /&gt;e nada mais me dá tamanho gosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maria Teresa Horta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-7190683788910327240?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/7190683788910327240/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/03/invencao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7190683788910327240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7190683788910327240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/03/invencao.html' title='Invenção'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-2725676623048795868</id><published>2010-03-04T22:54:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-03-04T23:31:10.035Z</updated><title type='text'>NÓS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;. .a special warm thank you to my most admirable. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wG9oYEzq9cI&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wG9oYEzq9cI&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-2725676623048795868?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/2725676623048795868/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/03/nos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2725676623048795868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2725676623048795868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/03/nos.html' title='NÓS'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-4404753128166315978</id><published>2010-03-04T22:45:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-04-20T03:30:17.034+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Room of One’s Own (1929)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S5A4-ujEqSI/AAAAAAAAAfs/Xn50cusq2PE/s1600-h/mulheres.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 162px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444914599789111586" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S5A4-ujEqSI/AAAAAAAAAfs/Xn50cusq2PE/s200/mulheres.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;'All I could do was to offer you an opinion upon one minor point—a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction; and that, as you will see, leaves the great problem of the true nature of woman and the true nature of fiction unsolved'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"&gt;-Ch. 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;Virginia Woolf&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-4404753128166315978?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/4404753128166315978/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/03/room-of-ones-own-1929.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/4404753128166315978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/4404753128166315978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/03/room-of-ones-own-1929.html' title='A Room of One’s Own (1929)'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S5A4-ujEqSI/AAAAAAAAAfs/Xn50cusq2PE/s72-c/mulheres.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-4936013931177338303</id><published>2010-01-28T23:33:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-01-28T23:36:57.417Z</updated><title type='text'>As Meninas Ós</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uma era gorda que nem uma baleia. A outra, magra que nem um palito. Inseparáveis. Os meninos da rua chamavam a uma, Orca , e a outra, Olívia. Logo, viraram as Ós. Os meninos diziam que, juntando as Ós, podiam fazer quatro mulheres normais. As Ós, não estavam para aí viradas.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8rkmpEhkT5s/S1-SMkh8viI/AAAAAAAAApg/I53fv3JdDx4/s1600-h/botero_xx_girl_with_puppet_1996_.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Orca e Olívia descobriram a dor e a delícia. Casaram. De tanto amor, Olívia engravidou da esposa. Deu à luz gémeas: uma bem gordinha, outra bem magrinha. Duas meninas Ós. Mães e filhas são, nas palavras do médico, saudáveis. E absolutamente normais.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cíntia Moscovich, in &lt;em&gt;Contos de Bolsa&lt;/em&gt;, org. Laís Chaffe, Casa Verde, Porto Alegre, 2006, p. 36.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-4936013931177338303?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/4936013931177338303/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/01/as-meninas-os.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/4936013931177338303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/4936013931177338303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/01/as-meninas-os.html' title='As Meninas Ós'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-2619546998470349014</id><published>2010-01-16T03:24:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-01-16T03:28:14.615Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S1EyK50CE-I/AAAAAAAAAek/dUuHIypIWdQ/s1600-h/i+(15).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 172px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 190px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427174188857299938" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S1EyK50CE-I/AAAAAAAAAek/dUuHIypIWdQ/s200/i+(15).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'No Mundo existem muitos Deuses (. . .) muitas crenças, logo é uma criação do Homem'.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Antena 3, Prova Oral - Dezembro 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-2619546998470349014?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/2619546998470349014/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/01/no-mundo-existem-muitos-deuses.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2619546998470349014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2619546998470349014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/01/no-mundo-existem-muitos-deuses.html' title=''/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/S1EyK50CE-I/AAAAAAAAAek/dUuHIypIWdQ/s72-c/i+(15).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-8164237531216192406</id><published>2010-01-12T08:37:00.004Z</published><updated>2010-01-12T08:51:44.841Z</updated><title type='text'>Consorting With Angels</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;a dedication from Green Elf's most admirable. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was tired of being a woman, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tired of the spoons and the post, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tired of my mouth and my breasts, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tired of the cosmetics and the silks. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;There were still men who sat at my table, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;circled around the bowl I offered up. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The bowl was filled with purple grapes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and the flies hovered in for the scent &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and even my father came with his white bone. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But I was tired of the gender things. Last night I had a dream &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and I said to it... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"You are the answer. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You will outlive my husband and my father." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In that dream there was a city made of chains &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;where Joan was put to death in man's clothes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and the nature of the angels went unexplained, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;no two made in the same species, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;one with a nose, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;one with an ear in its hand, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;one chewing a star and recording its orbit, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;each one like a poem obeying itself, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;performing God's functions, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a people apart."You are the answer," &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I said, and entered, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lying down on the gates of the city. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then the chains were fastened around me &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and I lost my common gender and my final aspect. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Adam was on the left of me &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and Eve was on the right of me, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;both thoroughly inconsistent with the world of reason. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We wove our arms together &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and rode under the sun. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was not a woman anymore, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;not one thing or the other. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O daughters of Jerusalem, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the king has brought me into his chamber. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am black and I am beautiful. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I've been opened and undressed. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have no arms or legs. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm all one skin like a fish. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm no more a woman &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;than Christ was a man.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Anne Sexton &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-8164237531216192406?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/8164237531216192406/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/01/consorting-with-angels.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8164237531216192406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8164237531216192406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2010/01/consorting-with-angels.html' title='Consorting With Angels'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-2654380552712699035</id><published>2009-12-25T16:09:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-12-25T22:07:47.607Z</updated><title type='text'>My Blueberry Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;(...) "the last few days, I've been learning how to trust people, and I'm glad I failed. Sometimes we depend on other people as a mirror, to define us, and tell us who we are. And each reflextion makes me like myself a little more (...) It took me nearly a year to get here. It wasn't so hard to cross that street, afterall. It all depends on who is waiting for you on the other side."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Elizabeth, 'My Blueberry Nights': Wong Kar Wai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-2654380552712699035?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/2654380552712699035/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-blueberry-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2654380552712699035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2654380552712699035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-blueberry-year.html' title='My Blueberry Year'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-977518954252072774</id><published>2009-12-08T21:51:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-12-10T06:40:11.162Z</updated><title type='text'>Flowers. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;. . . "Mrs Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself." (...)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Virginia Woolf, "Mrs. Dalloway"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mWWdQ8W5kTI&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mWWdQ8W5kTI&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-977518954252072774?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/977518954252072774/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/today-i-finally-bought-flowers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/977518954252072774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/977518954252072774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/today-i-finally-bought-flowers.html' title='Flowers. . .'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-159784459666616256</id><published>2009-12-08T00:52:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-01-12T08:49:53.324Z</updated><title type='text'>Late Night Treat. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;to my most admirable . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Y5KELHc0Hw&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Y5KELHc0Hw&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-159784459666616256?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/159784459666616256/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/late-night-treat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/159784459666616256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/159784459666616256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/late-night-treat.html' title='Late Night Treat. . .'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-9187477573500983846</id><published>2009-12-05T19:38:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-08T23:17:13.150Z</updated><title type='text'>"Femme", The Legendary Tigerman</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XjV2K2OjYQc&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XjV2K2OjYQc&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HULgFaoF4CM&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HULgFaoF4CM&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JGM7rSMubYU&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JGM7rSMubYU&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-9187477573500983846?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/9187477573500983846/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/femme-legendary-tigerman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/9187477573500983846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/9187477573500983846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/femme-legendary-tigerman.html' title='&quot;Femme&quot;, The Legendary Tigerman'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-22973722261829901</id><published>2009-12-05T01:28:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-12-05T19:45:21.444Z</updated><title type='text'>Um Auto-Retrato. . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/Sxm5UjaAhKI/AAAAAAAAAds/JRs4MQHOaFM/s1600-h/CatPint.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 329px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411560190015210658" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/Sxm5UjaAhKI/AAAAAAAAAds/JRs4MQHOaFM/s400/CatPint.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;. . . numa noite depois da &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;chuva de inverno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-22973722261829901?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/22973722261829901/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/um-auto-retrato.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/22973722261829901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/22973722261829901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/um-auto-retrato.html' title='Um Auto-Retrato. . .'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/Sxm5UjaAhKI/AAAAAAAAAds/JRs4MQHOaFM/s72-c/CatPint.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-7423589427828701452</id><published>2009-12-03T21:47:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-12-10T06:35:01.191Z</updated><title type='text'>"Um Dicionário Mágico", Barata</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt; para a minha flor mais preciosa, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;que me ensinou a acentuar palavras com a minhoca EGA. . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;(. . .) «Nesse dia, Clarinha não fez muitas perguntas porque achava que já sabia o que era coleccionar, o que era ser músico e tocar piano. . . Clarinha só tinha uma pergunta a fazer, aquela que é a pergunta mais importante da vida. Essa pergunta não se faz muitas vezes, mas é importante que a façamos, de vez em quando, às pessoas de quem gostamos. Essa pergunta é simples: não tem muitos adjectivos, nem muitas frases complicadas. É simples, tem duas palavras apenas e um ponto de interrogação:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;- É FELIZ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;O coleccionador-pianista respondeu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;- SOU.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;E a história continua (. . .)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Uma flor disse: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;- Clarinha, olha a variedade do mundo. Assim é uma colecção. . . Um museu é como um jardim ou um campo menso de papoilas, um girassol, duas margaridas, algumas túlipas, todos os frutos, sumos, sabores. . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Clarinha sorriu e pensou: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;- Então um museu pode ser uma praia. Que bom. . .um museu pode ter ondas e gaivotas nas suas paredes e até moinhos a girar se olharmos com amor cada quadro, cada história aí contada» (. . .)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gilda Nunes Barata, "Um Dicionário Mágico" (texto com supressões) in Revista &lt;em&gt;Aprender a Olhar&lt;/em&gt;, nº 2, Ago./Set. 2002&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-7423589427828701452?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/7423589427828701452/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/um-dicionario-magico-barata.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7423589427828701452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7423589427828701452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/um-dicionario-magico-barata.html' title='&quot;Um Dicionário Mágico&quot;, Barata'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-3192911551870740919</id><published>2009-12-02T01:42:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-12-03T21:33:52.576Z</updated><title type='text'>As I lay myself in the Tub...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SxXGfvHlomI/AAAAAAAAAdc/X6G8ouF1NSU/s1600/Don_Herron.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 163px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410448775882056290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SxXGfvHlomI/AAAAAAAAAdc/X6G8ouF1NSU/s200/Don_Herron.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.. My soul..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Should I do it? Should I not?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Frozen..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'Frozen Desires'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;My heart..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;My heart grows a brain of its own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;Lovely feeling of awarness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;A lovely, lonley feeling..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;Have I lost my mind?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;green elf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-3192911551870740919?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/3192911551870740919/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-soul.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3192911551870740919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3192911551870740919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-soul.html' title='As I lay myself in the Tub...'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SxXGfvHlomI/AAAAAAAAAdc/X6G8ouF1NSU/s72-c/Don_Herron.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-272799825945969635</id><published>2009-11-30T20:25:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-30T20:26:45.993Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;...to my most admirable,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eYSbUOoq4Vg&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eYSbUOoq4Vg&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-272799825945969635?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/272799825945969635/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post_30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/272799825945969635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/272799825945969635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post_30.html' title=''/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-5620239549492068226</id><published>2009-11-30T05:01:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-30T05:04:51.972Z</updated><title type='text'>«Escravatura no Século XXI»</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Em todo o mundo, cerca de 180 milhões de crianças são usadas para trabalhos forçados ou como meninos-soldados, escravos sexuais ou escravos do trabalho. A maioria destas crianças 97% vive nos países em vias de desenvolvimento.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Segundo o relatório de 26 de Outubro da UNICEF, as crianças são arrastadas para o mundo do trabalho e da exploração devido à “pobreza e à falta de uma educação adequada, factores exacerbados pela vida”. A UNICEF estima que a nível mundial cerca de 114 milhões de crianças em idade escolar não estejam matriculadas na escola, o que torna mais vulneráveis à exploração e abusos. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O relatório avança que 352 milhões de crianças entre os 5 e 17 anos estão envolvidas em algum tipo de trabalho em casa ou nas terras da família na agricultura ou no serviço doméstico.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Esta notícia mostra-nos a violação de vários artigos da Declaração Universal do Direitos do Homem tais como: 26º e o 4º principalmente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-5620239549492068226?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/5620239549492068226/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/escravatura-no-seculo-xxi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5620239549492068226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5620239549492068226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/escravatura-no-seculo-xxi.html' title='«Escravatura no Século XXI»'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-4814155242452928588</id><published>2009-11-30T04:56:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-30T05:05:45.517Z</updated><title type='text'>«Inspectores da PJ Suspeitos de Torturem Uma Mulher»</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oito inspectores da Polícia Judiciária estão a ser alvo de processos criminais por alegadamente terem torturado Leonor Cipriano. A mulher, suspeita, de ter assassinado a filha, deverá ter sido agredida na noite de 14 para 15 de Outubro noticiou ontem a SIC. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Os actos de tortura de Leonor, que resultaram em vários hematomas no corpo e na face terão sido praticados durante interrogatórios na subdirectoria de Faro da PJ. A directora do estabelecimento prisional de Odemira – que recusou fazer quaisquer declarações – participou o caso às autoridades que abriram um inquérito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;A ser verdade esta notícia viola o Artigo 5 da Declaração Universal dos Direitos do Homem que diz: “Ninguém será submetido a torturas nem penas ou tratos cruéis, inumanos ou degradantes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-4814155242452928588?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/4814155242452928588/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/inspectores-da-pj-suspeitos-de-torturem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/4814155242452928588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/4814155242452928588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/inspectores-da-pj-suspeitos-de-torturem.html' title='«Inspectores da PJ Suspeitos de Torturem Uma Mulher»'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-3371360817609493842</id><published>2009-11-27T21:54:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-11-30T00:05:42.954Z</updated><title type='text'>Pingo Doce</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SxBQYkAJ8EI/AAAAAAAAAdA/FbJlw1d7pgE/s1600/Ben%C3%A7ao+das+Pastas+2006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 98px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408911535383375938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SxBQYkAJ8EI/AAAAAAAAAdA/FbJlw1d7pgE/s200/Ben%C3%A7ao+das+Pastas+2006.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;- Precisa de saco?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;-Nao, Obrigado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;- Ah! É raro ver um homem que traga saco consigo. Ainda por cima um saco tão janota como o seu. Que ricos cãezinhos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;E eu, coradamente, sorrio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-3371360817609493842?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/3371360817609493842/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/pingo-doce.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3371360817609493842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3371360817609493842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/pingo-doce.html' title='Pingo Doce'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SxBQYkAJ8EI/AAAAAAAAAdA/FbJlw1d7pgE/s72-c/Ben%C3%A7ao+das+Pastas+2006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-1830977343768397836</id><published>2009-11-26T03:37:00.004Z</published><updated>2010-10-08T21:56:40.910+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and Social Conventions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Heart/LOVE and Social Conventions in debate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XAKKoQUsXXM&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XAKKoQUsXXM&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-1830977343768397836?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/1830977343768397836/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-and-social-conventions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/1830977343768397836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/1830977343768397836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-and-social-conventions.html' title='Love and Social Conventions'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-162871653041612246</id><published>2009-11-25T03:44:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-25T03:47:19.015Z</updated><title type='text'>«Morrer Como Um Homem»</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UfvS_fgbuDI&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UfvS_fgbuDI&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Morrer Como Uma Mulher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-162871653041612246?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/162871653041612246/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/morrer-como-um-homem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/162871653041612246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/162871653041612246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/morrer-como-um-homem.html' title='«Morrer Como Um Homem»'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-8188559180250633082</id><published>2009-11-21T22:17:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-10-09T12:45:15.782+01:00</updated><title type='text'>To my Dear Friend Pi...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VgVzJIs4PCQ&amp;amp;hl=en_GB&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VgVzJIs4PCQ&amp;hl=en_GB&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;...AmoR permanece dentro dos nossos CoRaÇõEs, uma caixinha secreta selada cheia de joias. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Só o verdadeiro 'Principe' guarda a chave para a abrir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Obrigado pila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-8188559180250633082?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/8188559180250633082/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/to-my-dear-friend-pi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8188559180250633082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8188559180250633082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/to-my-dear-friend-pi.html' title='To my Dear Friend Pi...'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-3472371560300298117</id><published>2009-11-21T20:51:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-11-22T04:17:10.060Z</updated><title type='text'>Paris e Eu, Negreiros</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SwhduO2L9CI/AAAAAAAAAc4/FHAW1g3rapk/s1600/almada_negreiros.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 129px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406674401499018274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SwhduO2L9CI/AAAAAAAAAc4/FHAW1g3rapk/s200/almada_negreiros.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Um dia foi a minha vez de ir a Paris. Foi necessário passaporte. Pediram a minha profissão. Fiquei atrapalhado! Pensei um pouco para responder verdade e disse a verdade: Poeta! Não aceitaram. Também pediram o meu estado. Fiquei atrapalhado! Pensei um pouco para responder verdade e disse a verdade: Menino! Também não aceitaram. E para ter o passaporte tive de dizer o que era necessário para ter o passaporte, isto é, uma profissão que houvesse e um estado que houvesse! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Almada Negreiros, &lt;em&gt;A Invençao do Dia Claro&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-3472371560300298117?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/3472371560300298117/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/paris-e-eu-negreiros.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3472371560300298117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3472371560300298117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/paris-e-eu-negreiros.html' title='Paris e Eu, Negreiros'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SwhduO2L9CI/AAAAAAAAAc4/FHAW1g3rapk/s72-c/almada_negreiros.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-7041208535189309792</id><published>2009-11-17T23:16:00.010Z</published><updated>2010-10-09T12:46:54.791+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Allucination from Nature</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Went out to dance... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Tumbling with my feet as the music went by, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;made me realize that my feet were feeling the solid dance floor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I felt the floor with my feet and let them tumble up and down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;as the music went by. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;A sudden urge crawled from my feet up my legs, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;an urge to swing my legs, move them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Felt the music, felt my body. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I felt the flow rise up till my stomache, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;where there was like a wall waiting to be broken down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Felt the music, felt my body. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I let the flow penetrate its way up my upper body. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I felt like standing straight, I felt like stretching. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;But looked foward, looked around. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I felt the music and noticed the smiles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Everyone was smiling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Everyone was feeling their bodies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Better yet, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;everybody was expressing themselves with their bodies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Listen to the music, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;stand up straight, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;and feel your body! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Who cares who's drunk or not?!?.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I just listened to the music, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;stood up, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;and felt my body. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I tap-tap with my fingers under my coca-cola cup. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I feel like a pianist, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;an 'electro-pianist'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Oh yea, I can see myself now &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;an 'electro-pianist'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I feel myself, and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt; someone asks me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Are you alright? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Allucinating...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Green Elf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-7041208535189309792?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/7041208535189309792/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/allucination-from-nature.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7041208535189309792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7041208535189309792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/allucination-from-nature.html' title='Allucination from Nature'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-2912435566105692518</id><published>2009-11-13T17:29:00.006Z</published><updated>2010-10-09T12:47:28.870+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMPCJHgoBDw&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMPCJHgoBDw&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;To a Special Friend..to a special night out in Coimbra. Thank You.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;'Um homem com 50 anos de idade, esquece! Uma mulher basta chegar aos 40 para esquecer. São 10 anos mais tarde, estás a ver?!? Eu, aos 15 jogava ao elástico. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;De hoje em dia, as miúdas com 15 anos mandam quecas'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#330033;"&gt;desconhecida com uma cerveja na mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-2912435566105692518?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/2912435566105692518/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post_13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2912435566105692518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2912435566105692518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post_13.html' title=''/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-141287514143222809</id><published>2009-11-12T03:25:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-11-17T22:31:46.878Z</updated><title type='text'>Maria Filomena Mónica</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SwMkFuEvkRI/AAAAAAAAAcw/itPKOdHLdbY/s1600/maria+filomena+monica+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 108px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 82px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405203658460598546" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SwMkFuEvkRI/AAAAAAAAAcw/itPKOdHLdbY/s200/maria+filomena+monica+1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Entrevista&lt;br /&gt;Maria Filomena Mónica: "Em última análise, faço sempre o que quero"&lt;br /&gt;por Ana Sá Lopes, Publicado em 07 de Julho de 2009&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ionline.pt/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://www.ionline.pt/&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Esta entrevista considero uma das melhores para tracejar o perfil de Maria Filomena Mónica. Uma mulher portuguesa... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maria Filomena Mónica diz que com a idade está a perder a raiva, porque a raiva cansa muito. Mas continua a fazer e a dizer tudo o que lhe apetece.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A socióloga odiada pelos queirosianos acabou de publicar uma nova versão da biografia de Eça, oito anos depois da primeira edição. Maria Filomena Mónica, a mulher do "Bilhete de Identidade", recebe o i na casa de onde quase nunca sai - tirando às segundas-feiras para ir à farmácia e ao supermercado - um rés-do-chão na Lapa, em Lisboa, com vista para um jardim extraordinário, infelizmente propriedade do vizinho de cima. Diz que agora vê com mais nitidez os defeitos de Eça de Queirós: era instrumental com os amigos. É implacável, embora diga que isso faz parte da sua pose. Culpabiliza-se com facilidade, mas em última análise só faz o que lhe apetece.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O Eça não era um santo, mas no princípio apaixonou-se completamente?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apaixonei-me primeiro pelos romances, depois pelo jornalista e depois pelo homem. E não é bom fazer-se uma biografia em fase de êxtase completo. Para além da parte artística, fui desde logo muito sensível à lucidez e à inteligência do homem. Passados oito anos, já consegui distanciar-me mais, ver quais eram os defeitos. O principal está no domínio dos afectos. Era muito instrumental, só gostava de quem precisava, em última análise não gostava de ninguém. Em relação às mulheres, o facto de ele ter fugido à Anna Conover, que foi a maior paixão da vida dele, demonstra que não tinha confiança em si. Não era capaz de enfrentar uma relação com uma mulher emancipada. Fugiu a sete pés.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Era um machista?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não era machista, nem mesmo misógino. A ortodoxia é que diz que o Eça era machista e misógino. Nos romances, ele retratava as mulheres como seres inferiores. Acontece que, sociologicamente, as mulheres eram seres inferiores, não tinham educação. Ele dá um retrato da sociedade. Muito me espantaria que aparecessem nos romances dele Luísas ou Marias Eduardas que fossem capazes de citar o Shakespeare de cor, ou o Camões, ou o Sá de Miranda. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque é que ele não era machista? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando ficou noivo da Emília de Resende, que era uma aristocrata do Norte, ela pergunta-lhe se pode escrever a um rapaz chamado Sandeman, daquela família inglesa do Porto. E ele responde-lhe que pode escrever a quem lhe apetecer. Até ficou escandalizado com a pergunta! Se fosse o Ramalho, ou a maior parte dos amigos dele, imagino que diriam às noivas "não, não podes" ou "ainda bem que me perguntas, vou-te dar autorização". Na relação com a noiva não era nada machista. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diz que o Eça usava os amigos de forma instrumental. Usava Ramalho?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O Ramalho tratava-lhe das edições, das provas. "Já reviste? Vê lá o que é que fazes!" O Ramalho e o Antero achavam que "O Crime do Padre Amaro" era imoral. E é imoral, para a época é um livro muito forte. Se pensarmos que a publicação de "Madame Bovary" foi proibida, Portugal era tão liberal para a altura que deixou publicar "O Crime do Padre Amaro"! O Ramalho sempre tratou de problemas práticos. O mais amigo era o Jaime Batalha Reis, com quem o Eça viveu uma temporada. Batalha Reis manteve--se sempre muito amigo, muito fiel. Faz-me pena que o Eça se tenha portado mal no concurso para a carreira diplomática. A ideia de concorrer tinha sido do Batalha Reis, mas o Eça aproveitou a ideia, meteu uma cunha antes do Jaime Batalha Reis e não lhe disse nada. Ele ficou meio amuado e com razão. Mas mantiveram-se amigos. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E aquela outra miséria, quando Eça exige ser pago para não publicar um texto?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É chantagem! Achei a ideia genial. Claro que era moralmente abjecta. Imaginem eu agora ir dizer ao Eng. Sócrates: "Tenho aqui um romance sobre a sua vida mas se me der 30 mil contos abandono a ideia e não publico." Claro que isto não se faz. Ele foi dizer ao Ramalho, mais uma vez instrumental: "Fala aí com Andrade Corvo - que era o ministro dos Negócios Estrangeiros -, tenho esta ideia, Portugal vai ser invadido pela Espanha, mas se ele não quiser, dá-me o dinheiro que eu ganharia com o livro e não publico "A Batalha do Caia". O Ramalho disse--lhe: "Não estás bom da cabeça." É uma ideia moralmente abjecta, mas muito engraçada.Tem tido uma guerra com os queirosianos. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porquê?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eles começaram a fazer-me guerra. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas guerra como?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tem a ver com as carreiras, luta-se por um poder muito pequenino. Os queirosianos vivem do Eça, é como se fossem sanguessugas. O Eça é a razão de ser da carreira e da promoção deles. Tenho a sorte de não pertencer a uma faculdade de letras. Fiz Filosofia, saltei para Sociologia, e agora faço história e de vez em quando escrevo biografias. Não preciso do Eça para subir na carreira. Para começar, já estava no topo, a liberdade era total. Comecei a perceber quando fui a uma conferência nos Estados Unidos, no centenário do Eça em 2000. Havia 40 portugueses que não tomavam o pequeno-almoço comigo, que não se sentavam ao meu lado no autocarro, que não me falavam. Achei aquilo estranho. Mas quem é esta gente? Depois, havia um professor da Faculdade de Letras, o António Feijó, que me disse: "Mas ainda não percebeste? Estás-lhes a roubar o território" Aquilo é território murado, é o território deles. E o professor americano depois explicou-me que quando me convidou por causa da biografia do Eça teve imediatamente cartas de alguns queirosianos a dizer que o Instituto Camões não me devia pagar o avião. Isto disse-me o americano, que respondeu que se o Instituto Camões não pagasse, a universidade americana pagaria. Não sabia nada disto quando fui, só quando cheguei aos Estados Unidos é que verifiquei que era uma persona non grata.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas quem são esses queirosianos?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Basicamente, é o Carlos Reis. É catedrático de Coimbra e agora é reitor da Universidade Aberta. E é autor do mais ridículo programa de Português que eu li em dias da vida. As criancinhas entre o 1ºano e o 9º ano vão ter de ser sujeitas a um programa de Português que é uma aberração total e completa. Os outros são assistentes dele. Como ele é catedrático, os outros têm medo de falar comigo, porque se na América os vissem a tomar o pequeno-almoço comigo, depois não iam a professor auxiliar. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O Eça é autobiográfico? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Conta na biografia uma cena num baile de máscaras, que se passou com o Eça quando andava com uma mulher casada, que é exactamente igual a uma cena de João da Ega em "Os Maias"...Ele aproveita muito o real, é um observador espantoso, mas não é um escritor confessional. Não é como eu, que uso a palavra "eu" em cada duas frases. Ele, de resto, diz "eu não tenho biografia, sou como a república de Andorra, não tenho passado". Teria ficado furioso se tivesse lido a minha biografia. Não queria que falassem da sua vida, queria que falassem da sua obra. Mas era um poseur. Metade das cartas dele não podem ser entendidas à letra. Quando escreve ao Oliveira Martins a dizer que "Os Maias" é um romance falhado, o que quer é pedir uma recensão crítica. Essa cena das máscaras e muitas das cenas de "Os Maias" são coisas a que assistiu. Já se dava naquela altura com a grande sociedade portuguesa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O Eça é o João da Ega?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O Ega é o Eça se não tivesse saído de Portugal. Se tivesse cá ficado, tinha-se transformado num geniozinho engraçado, mau, sarcástico, parecido com o Ega e um falhado. Ele teve um pressentimento de que isso iria acontecer. O Ega é o bobo da corte que o Eça teria sido se cá ficasse. O Eça tinha horror a esse Portugal ignorante, beato e pobre. Isso é um sentimento que me é familiar, uma pessoa sentir-se aqui enclausurada. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ainda sente essa claustrofobia?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Muito menos. Em parte pela idade. Estou cansada de ter raiva, a raiva exige energias. Cansa imenso! Depois, porque deixei de ver televisão. Só vejo DVD e os primeiros 10 minutos do telejornal para ver se aconteceu alguma coisa. Disse na entrevista à Alexandra Lencastre que só saio à segunda-feira. E é verdade! À segunda-feira vou à farmácia e ao supermercado, terça, quarta, quinta, sexta e sábado estou em casa, no domingo estou com os netos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não sai para tomar café?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não tomo café, sou hipertensa. Para o bem ou para o mal vejo pouco os meus amigos, tenho dois ou três, também os vejo só para aí três vezes por ano. Isso faz-me um bocadinho pena, ver pouco os meus amigos. Tenho alguns amigos estrangeiros e aí o email abriu-me o mundo. Retomei agora uma amizade com um amigo israelita...... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;que foi seu namorado?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sim, mas namorado só durante uma semana! (risos) É bom quando se resolvem essas coisas da carne logo ao início e depois fica-se amigo! No "Bilhete de Identidade" fala muito do atrofiamento nacional, da educação claustrofóbica...No meu caso, era exagerado pelas particularidades da minha mãe, que tinha sido alta dirigente da Acção Católica com o pelouro da juventude. Depois de ter andado a dizer em artigos de jornal como é que se deviam educar os filhos e sair-lhe esta na rifa, azar o dela! Mas nós até temos coisas muito parecidas. Era muito trabalhadora, muito obsessiva como eu sou. Entre mim e a minha irmã não há nada mais diferente. Nós somos quatro, todos eles deixaram de me falar. Eu para zangas estou por aí... [risos]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não voltaram a falar-se?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os três deixaram de me falar e não foram ao lançamento. A Isabel, no Natal quando a minha mãe estava a morrer, disse--me: "Não sou capaz de estar zangada contigo!" E trouxe-me um livro todo corrigido por ela à mão. "Agora fazes uma segunda edição com todas as emendas!" Era outro livro! Só uma ingénua poderia imaginar que eu iria introduzir aquelas emendas! Os outros dois mantiveram-se zangados. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O problema era a questão da sua mãe?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A questão da minha mãe, a questão de eu expor o ter cometido adultério, embora o meu marido cometesse adultério todos os dias e mais algum. Eu nem sou promíscua, até sou muito monogâmica! Tive três maridos, mas quando sou casada sou muito fiel. Mas acho que foi o facto de a minha mãe ter puxado ao máximo para nos casarmos nas famílias de topo e eu ter dito isso. O facto de o meu bisavô ter sido lavrador não é nenhum pecado, até funciona a nosso favor, quer dizer que subimos na vida. Mas para eles é mau. As únicas pessoas que eu teria tido um enorme desgosto se tivessem ficado zangadas ou tristes eram os meus filhos, especialmente o meu filho. E não ficaram. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nunca mais voltou a falar com Vasco Pulido Valente?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não. Como ele também não sai de casa...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas ele ficou mesmo magoado?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Acho que ele não tem razão! Um dia vamos ter de falar sobre isso, espero que sim. Não quero falar mais sobre o Vasco, já dei lenha de mais para essa fogueira. Eu almoçava com o Vasco todas as quartas-feiras. E almocei com ele na véspera do lançamento. Ele sabia há cinco anos que eu estava a escrever as memórias. Não pediu para ler, nem eu as deixaria ler. Mas não é uma pessoa que de repente soube que ia haver um livro. Se houve alguém de cuja reacção eu tive medo foi do meu primeiro marido, e dos meus filhos, como já disse. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ele reagiu bem?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reagiu lindamente. A minha percepção é estranhíssima. Achei, curiosamente, que dava uma imagem do Vasco como eu o vejo? Eu adoro o Vasco! Falo dele com uma enorme ternura, foi uma pessoa importantíssima na minha vida, por quem eu tenho a maior das admirações! Até achava que o meu actual marido é que ia ter ciúmes do Vasco! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O António Barreto não queria que falasse dele no livro?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não o conhecia! O livro termina em 1976, não conhecia o António. Uma das razões por que não escrevo o segundo volume nem é tanto por causa do António Barreto. Em última análise, faço sempre o que quero. Nem a minha mãe me proibiu, nem há marido que me proíba. Se quiser mesmo uma coisa, e achar que a devo fazer, faço. Mas não faço porque de todas as autobiografias que li as interessantes são as do período formativo. A ideia que temos de si é que é uma mulher absolutamente segura...[Silêncio]. Fiz uma pose, como o Eça. Fiz uma pose arrogante, segura, forte e implacável, mas não sou nada disso. Carências afectivas, é à menor oportunidade. "Ninguém gosta de mim, no fundo", "eu devia estar a fazer outra coisa que não estou a fazer." Isto é a culpabilidade. Se a minha filha me pede, como aconteceu no sábado passado, para ficar com os miúdos e eu não posso, acho que sou a pior avó do mundo e a pior mãe do mundo. É muito fácil explorar-me! Sei que sou assim, que sob esta aparência sou um vaso chinês com uma falha sísmica. Nunca fui a um psiquiatra porque sou capaz de falar disto, porque isso me ajuda, falar com os amigos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Costuma ridicularizar a psiquiatria?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Acho que não vale a pena. O que a psiquiatria fez às pessoas que conheço foi tirar-lhes o sentimento de culpa. Acho que as pessoas devem ter sentimentos de culpa quando se portam mal! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alguém que não toma conta de uma mãe doente? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tive a minha mãe doente durante 11 anos e, mesmo com a má relação que tinha com ela, achei que era meu dever tratar dela até ao fim! Nos últimos oito anos, deixou de me reconhecer. Eu era a mais velha, a minha irmã Isabel tinha o marido doente com um cancro, os outros dois eram miúdos - miúdos para mim, nessa altura tinham 40 anos. Achava que tudo dependia de mim. Mas cada vez que ia para Oxford trabalhar ia com uma culpabilidade que nem lhe conto nem lhe digo e arranjei problemas físicos relativamente graves. Isto para dizer que não sou tão forte quanto pareço.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ainda é de esquerda?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sou. Se tivesse tido outra educação, provavelmente era de direita. Como fui criada na direita, continuo a pensar que a direita portuguesa é totalmente subserviente em relação ao poder político, completamente inculta, não cosmopolita, e socialmente a maior parte das pessoas da direita nunca foram para além de Elvas. O fundamental para mim é a liberdade e a direita portuguesa não preza a liberdade. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pode perguntar-se: e a esquerda preza? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Provavelmente, a esquerda é inculta, nunca foi para além de Elvas, tem os mesmos traços mais ou menos...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não há nenhuma questão ideológica?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É uma questão de eu ter sido muito marcada pelo salazarismo e pela Igreja Católica. O facto de ser ateia liga-me mais à esquerda. Sou a favor do aborto e da eutanásia. Já fiz testamento vital há cerca de seis anos e quero que seja respeitado. Já o dei aos meus filhos e ao António. Não quero que me prolonguem a vida. Isso também me afasta da direita. Nunca fui de esquerda por acreditar no maoísmo ou na ditadura do proletariado. Achava que os valores do liberalismo clássico eram de esquerda e o Salazar era um homem da direita. Vivi até aos 31 anos sob uma ditadura, para mim a liberdade é um valor de esquerda.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E vota no PS?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sempre votei PS, até em 1975. Chorei que nem uma Madalena porque achava que o Soares era um burguês nojento. Apesar de tudo, tinha medo do PCP.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E agora vai votar em José Sócrates?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não voto mais.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando deixou de votar?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desde as últimas. Disse que nunca mais votava enquanto os dois principais partidos não fizeram a reforma eleitoral que prometeram. Sou contra a eleição por listas, não sei em quem estou a votar. Parte da mediocridade do que se passa no Parlamento deriva da impossibilidade de nós votarmos numa pessoa. Provavelmente, irei votar nas locais, para afastar o Santana Lopes. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vai votar em António Costa?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sim. Prefiro o António Costa ao Santana Lopes, embora o Santana Lopes me divirta muito mais. Mas ele só me diverte quando está fora do poder, no poder é um irresponsável. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E o que pensa de José Sócrates?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É um rapaz da província que subiu na vida à custa da esperteza e de muito pouco trabalho. Assinou projectos arquitectónicos que não eram dele...&lt;br /&gt;Ele negou, assumiu a autoria...Fiquei com a impressão de que tinha assinado projectos que não eram dele. Mentiu, recentemente, no negócio da PT. Tem um percurso de opacidade.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-141287514143222809?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/141287514143222809/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/maria-filomena-monica.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/141287514143222809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/141287514143222809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/maria-filomena-monica.html' title='Maria Filomena Mónica'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SwMkFuEvkRI/AAAAAAAAAcw/itPKOdHLdbY/s72-c/maria+filomena+monica+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-6100046672216716276</id><published>2009-11-10T15:47:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-10-09T12:48:07.851+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;É assim, Dr.ª Helena...no entanto, Obrigado! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;"Standing here all alone staring across the street&lt;br /&gt;Hearing the siren of the cars sounding beep,&lt;br /&gt;Looking out the window seeing your shadow&lt;br /&gt;The thoughts of you taunts like a hopeless widow.&lt;br /&gt;The night's sky watching me surrounded by sadness&lt;br /&gt;Asking the heaven to take out this madness&lt;br /&gt;Why did you go, why did you go?&lt;br /&gt;Was I enough man to be around you?&lt;br /&gt;And now...I'm all alone, standing on our balcony&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the stars on this gloomy night,&lt;br /&gt;Will it shine like yesterday as it used to be?&lt;br /&gt;Where your smiles shining upon me?&lt;br /&gt;But, now that you left me, I'm all alone&lt;br /&gt;A man of wisdom but nothing's known&lt;br /&gt;When you left me, there's none remain&lt;br /&gt;Only memories that drives me insane.&lt;br /&gt;Oh baby, come back- I can't stand being alone&lt;br /&gt;The stars won't come when you're not here by my side&lt;br /&gt;It keeps on hiding till they glance the beauty of your smiles...&lt;br /&gt;Baby, come back... being alone without you is, oh so blue".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;J. B. Blend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-6100046672216716276?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/6100046672216716276/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/e-assim-dr.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6100046672216716276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6100046672216716276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/e-assim-dr.html' title=''/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-8644554488037016624</id><published>2009-11-09T22:21:00.009Z</published><updated>2009-11-11T19:59:15.606Z</updated><title type='text'>'Discriminação devido à orientação sexual é a mais comum em Portugal', SIC Notícias</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;"Os portugueses apontam a orientação sexual como o principal factor de discriminação no país, à frente da origem étnica e da deficiência, revela um inquérito hoje divulgado em Bruxelas pela Comissão Europeia".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#330033;"&gt;SIC Notícias, 09-11-2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apelo à sensabilização nacional quanto às questões do género e da sexualidade. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Acredito que Portugal consiga acompanhar a europeização lado a lado com os restantes países da União Europeia. O desenvolvimento do nosso país depende não só da economia mas, igualmente de questões políticas que giram em torno da nossa sociedade. Os portugueses devem, antes de mais, sentir que o nosso governo está bem assente e que se apresenta com uma postura sólida perante os seus cidadãos. Se temos um governo a deferir medidas e decisões que reprovam a liberalização dos direitos de igualdade do género e sexualidade, como é possível 're-educar' as mentes do povo?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Todavia, como se confirma com a notícia de última hora, vivemos os vestígios do 'Conservadorismo Português'. As pessoas ainda não aceitam o facto que somos diferentes com diferentes escolhas/opções e, da mesma forma, somos pessoas todas iguais umas às outras. Vivemos numa sociedade mascarada, onde se sente que as pessoas não vivem na transparência. A igreja ainda desempenha um papel importante na sociedade portuguesa, condicionando certos ideiais quanto a questões deste tipo. Consequentemente, a educação sexual é vista como uma modernice secundária. Por vezes, também, é vista como a principal culpa por estarem a surgir debates que exploram e mostram a necessidade da sociedade portuguesa em eliminar determinados 'estereotipos'. 'Estereotipos' esses que dificultam a integridade pessoal e social de muitos indíviduos. Neste sentido, reflecte-se o baixo nível de cultura do país, a falta de informação junto com uma grande falta de conhecimento e interesse perante o que se está a passar com a realidade europeia. Não podemos viver com esta atmosfera sombria. Não podemos viver o mundo onde a realidade é ofuscada com denominações construídas e que vão ao desencontro da própria natureza humana.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-8644554488037016624?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/8644554488037016624/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/discriminacao-devido-orientacao-sexual.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8644554488037016624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8644554488037016624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/discriminacao-devido-orientacao-sexual.html' title='&apos;Discriminação devido à orientação sexual é a mais comum em Portugal&apos;, SIC Notícias'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-7702118573711893448</id><published>2009-11-09T21:07:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-11-09T22:01:34.620Z</updated><title type='text'>'INSÓNIA', Dos Santos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;"Deita-se na cama, procura uma posiçao para tentar sossegar, mas não consegue. O pensamento dá-lhe voltas e mais voltas - e o corpo vai atrás, dando também voltas e mais voltas. Outras vezes, é o contrário: o corpo não pára e o pensamento segue-o. Ela acha que nao adormece para não ter de acordar. Os últimos tempos foram-lhe atirados como se atira uma lança a um alvo e se acerta em cheio. Os movimentos da sua vida começaram a trocar-se; quando queria andar, parava. Dizem que há sinais a preceder as catástrofes, mas o desatre aconteceu-lhe sem aviso. Subitamente, quase tudo se desmoronou. A derrocada do seu mundo deixou-a "sem tecto, entre ruínas". Agora quer dormir e não consegue. Em redor dela, há um silêncio que soa como um barulho insuportável. Dentro da sua cabeça, existe um vazio que parece maispesado do que o chumbo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Como acontece com o clima dos dias instáveis, na sua vida o sol tornou-se sombra e frio e chuva e trovoada e relâmpago e raio. Tudo o que lhe pertencia se fez alheio. Todos os gostos se lhe mudaram em desgostos. Quando deu por isso, estava apenas acompanhada de cuidados, pressões, imapsses. Tornou-se insegura, inquieta, insatisfeita. Ficou ausente de si mesma e carregada dessa ausência. Quando quer saber o que lhe aconteceu, é como se lesse um texto numa língua que não compreende inteiramente e do qual só consegue decifrar algumas palavras. Cada dia que passa acresenta-lhe o dia anterior de um problema, de um desgaste, de uma tortura. Olha-se no espelho e vê um rosto envelhecido pela surpresa lenta e dura da incompreensão. Vêm-lhe à boca palavras como azar, desventura, desânimo, derrota. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;A noite cresce contra ela. Esteve horas sentada na cama, em frente da televisão, a pensar que não queria pensar. Olhou o ecrã, ouviu o som como se o aparelho estivesse estragado. Parecia-lhe que as vozes se aproximavam, depois que se afastavam. As imagens corriam, depois paravam. Ávida, comeu uma caixa de chocolates. O pijama ficou cheio de nódoas, o lençol babado de uma baba pegajosa e escura. Com a mão presa ao comando, mudou de canal sem parar, &lt;em&gt;num &lt;/em&gt;zapping de si mesma, delirante e inútil. Não conseguia fixar a atenção. Ouvia palavras da política misturadas com gritos de crimes. Escutava números da economia sobrepostos a imagens de desportos. Tudo lhe foi a mesma coisa, o mesmo espectáculo indiferente. O estado de agitação e fadiga em que se encontra, com aquela espécie de jet lag perpétuo, abre-lhe as portas da percepção. Vê em si, com toda a evidência, aquilo que tinha apenas adivinhado: uma doença que nem esse nome quer usar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Apaga a televisão e tenta adormecer. Não consegue. Tenta outra vez. Dá voltas e mais voltas. Olha o relógio. São cinco horas da madrugada. Liga a televisão outra vez. Continua a mudar de canal, à procura de uma imagem, de um som que a repouse. Dói-lhe o corpo, já não tem posição, agarra-se à almofada, estica as pernas. Tomou dois comprimidos para dormir. Está num canal que fala uma língua que lhe é desconhecida. Fica presa a uma imagem a preto e branco. Nela, uma mulher com um rosto roto pelas rugas corre à frente de quem a presegue. Uma música aguda segue-a também. A mulher cai e é apanhada. O plano muda e aparece um homem a falar com um gesto repetitivo. Ela não percebe o que ouve, mas perecbe o vê. Continua a olhar. De repente, fica com sono. Subjuga-se a ele. Está quase a adormecer, faz um esforço para aproveitar uma oportunidade que não se repetirá. Passam minutos e o sono passa também. Começa outra vez a dar voltas. Agarra um livro que tem à mão e tenta ler. Não consegue concentrar-se. As frasesnão chegam ao fim. É como se o livro fosse escrito na estranha língua so filme a preto e branco. Fecha o livro, atira-o para o chão, com raiva. Apaga a luz, tenta dormir de novo, dá voltas e meias voltas. Não consegue. Levanta-se. Vai para o sofá, liga a televisãosa sala. Passado um bocado, adormece. Sonha com a sua insónia. Dorme duas horas e acorda. Está torcida, amarrotada, desfeita. Tem o pescoço a doer-lhe. Olha a janelae vê que o dia começa a clarear. Fica perdida, suspensa. A televisão continua ligadae as suas vozes enervam-na. Tira-lhe o som. O tempo arrefeceu, mas ela não tem frio. Fica imóvel, a olhar o vidro embaciado da janela. Passa a mão pelo cabelo, pelo rosto, pelo corpo, a desejar a carícia que ninguém lhe faz. Permanece assim, nauseada, esgotada, anulada. De repente, o alarme do telemóvel toca. Assusta-se. Salta. Tem de se arranjar. Fica ainda um bocado sentada. Está quase a adormecer. Deixa-se dormir uns minutos. Acorda, estrumunhada, com medo de já estar atrasada. Corre para a casa de banho. Toma duche num instante. Sai do banho, mas é como se a água a tivesse sujado".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;José Manuel Dos Santos&lt;/span&gt;, in 'Actual', 07 de Novembro 2009, Expresso (Crónica Impressão Digital)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-7702118573711893448?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/7702118573711893448/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/insonia-dos-santos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7702118573711893448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7702118573711893448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/insonia-dos-santos.html' title='&apos;INSÓNIA&apos;, Dos Santos'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-4898055247968531052</id><published>2009-11-06T16:53:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-06T16:56:12.395Z</updated><title type='text'>'Dúvida...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;...da luz dos astros,&lt;br /&gt;De que o sol tenha calor,&lt;br /&gt;Dúvida até da Verdade&lt;br /&gt;Mas confia em meu Amor'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;William Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;30, Junho 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-4898055247968531052?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/4898055247968531052/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/duvida.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/4898055247968531052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/4898055247968531052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/duvida.html' title='&apos;Dúvida...'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-7515672524091700480</id><published>2009-11-04T23:38:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-11-06T03:02:45.473Z</updated><title type='text'>'Parlez-moi de la pluie' , Jaoui 07</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SvISVqNoZeI/AAAAAAAAAcA/e1hkT5xJPaU/s1600-h/agnes_jaoui1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 199px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400399066488661474" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SvISVqNoZeI/AAAAAAAAAcA/e1hkT5xJPaU/s200/agnes_jaoui1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Com: Agnès Jaoui, Jean-Pierre Bacri, Jamel Debbouze, Pascale Arbillot, Guillaume de Tonquedec, Frédéric Pierrot, Florence Loiret-Caille, Anne Werner, Jean-Claude Baudraccio e Mimouna Hadji&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Resumo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A escritora Agathe Villanova (Agnès Jaoui) é candidata às eleições pela região onde cresceu, de onde saiu e onde agora regressa por via da lei da paridade. Assim, volta à casa de família um ano após a morte da mãe e reencontra a irmã, o cunhado e a velha empregada argelina. O filho desta, que fez em tempos um curso de vídeo, é recepcionista num hotel e resolve com o antigo professor iniciar uma série de documentários sobre 'mulheres que venceram', pegando na vida de Agathe. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Teatro Académico Gil Vicente, Coimbra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;10º Festival do Cinema Françês&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.festadocinemafrances.com/"&gt;http://www.festadocinemafrances.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;5/11 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Obrigado, Filipa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Salut! 'Je parle rien' :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-7515672524091700480?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/7515672524091700480/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/parlez-moi-de-la-pluie-jaoui-07.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7515672524091700480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7515672524091700480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/parlez-moi-de-la-pluie-jaoui-07.html' title='&apos;Parlez-moi de la pluie&apos; , Jaoui 07'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SvISVqNoZeI/AAAAAAAAAcA/e1hkT5xJPaU/s72-c/agnes_jaoui1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-2996261253468267167</id><published>2009-11-04T21:05:00.011Z</published><updated>2010-10-09T12:50:21.000+01:00</updated><title type='text'>II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;One morning I decided to drive down the countryside and visit my mum and dad. Once there, the stars had already start to sparkle in the dark sky. I felt a slight cool breeze crawl up my back because I wasn't dressed properly for the counrtyside's chill. Despite the weather, it was an amusing evening. I hadn't been to my parents' house for quite some time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;After tea, I went to the upstairs floor to have my 'room of its own'. I drew the curtains wide open and started to gaze into the dark horizon. The skies seemed sad. The stars would come and go, therefore the clouds were running around. They ran and ran, such a sensual Tango dance, and suddenly a bright light twisted through the dance. How beautiful mother nature is, how just simply purely she lets herself be? I wondered... Suddenly it occured to me. Yes!, it occured to me that that light was the Star. That star followed me like a melody.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It still does. Even though I'm not at my parents' house any more. But then again, I will always be, as long as there are stars in the sky, dancing the Tango with the clouds every cold and dark night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-2996261253468267167?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/2996261253468267167/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2996261253468267167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2996261253468267167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/ii.html' title='II'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-5952557080111067760</id><published>2009-11-04T17:15:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-11-04T17:22:39.672Z</updated><title type='text'>'Strange Meeting', Wilfred Owen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#330033;"&gt;To my only companion,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;It seemed that out of the battle I escaped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Down some profound dull tunnel, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;long since scooped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Through granites which Titanic wars had groined.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Lifting distressful hands as if to bless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;With a thousand fears that vision's face was grained;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;"Strange, friend," I said, "Here is no cause to mourn."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;"None," said the other, "Save the undone years,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Was my life also; I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt; went hunting wild&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;After the wildest beauty in the world,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;But mocks the steady running of the hour,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;For by my glee might many men have laughed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;And of my weeping something has been left,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;The pity of war, the pity war distilled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Now men will go content with what we spoil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;ed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Courage was mine, and I had mystery;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;To miss the march of this retreating world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Into vain citadels that are not walled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I would have poured my spirit without stint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I am the enemy you killed, my friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I knew you in this dark; for so you frowned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let us sleep now . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(This poem was found among the author's papers. It ends on this strange note.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Another Version* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Earth's wheels run oiled with blood. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Forget we that.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let us lie down and dig ourselves in thought&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.Beauty is yours and you have mastery,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wisdom is mine, and I have mystery.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We two will stay behind and keep our troth.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let us forego men's minds that are brute's natures,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let us not sup the blood which some say nurtures,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Be we not swift with swiftness of the tigress.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let us break ranks from those who trek from progress.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Miss we the march of this retreating world&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Into old citadels that are not walled.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let us lie out and hold the open truth.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then when their blood hath clogged the chariot wheels&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We will go up and wash them from deep wells.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What though we sink from men as pitchers falling&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Many shall raise us up to be their filling&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Even from wells we sunk too deep for war&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And filled by brows that bled where no wounds were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;*Alternative line --*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Even as One who bled where no wounds were.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-5952557080111067760?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/5952557080111067760/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/strange-meeting-wilfred-owen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5952557080111067760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5952557080111067760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/strange-meeting-wilfred-owen.html' title='&apos;Strange Meeting&apos;, Wilfred Owen'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-1767762746804832902</id><published>2009-11-03T15:26:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-03T15:31:04.398Z</updated><title type='text'>Fórum Sexo, Género e Saúde - 19, 20, 21 de Novembro 09</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;"O Fórum Sexo, Género e Saúde XXI é organizado pela Sentidos e Sensações, Associação de Promoção e Educação para a Saúde, com o alto patrocínio da Direcção Geral de Saúde. Pretende-se com este Fórum trazer até Portugal alguns dos investigadores internacionais que têm vindo a desenvolver projectos relevantes e originais nas áreas cobertas pelo Fórum, bem como apresentar algum do trabalho de destaque desenvolvido por investigadores e profissionais portugueses nas mesmas áreas. Trata-se de um encontro destinado a profissionais de saúde e outros interessados na área."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://forumsexogenerosaude.net/"&gt;http://forumsexogenerosaude.net/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-1767762746804832902?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/1767762746804832902/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/forum-sexo-genero-e-saude-19-20-21-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/1767762746804832902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/1767762746804832902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/forum-sexo-genero-e-saude-19-20-21-de.html' title='Fórum Sexo, Género e Saúde - 19, 20, 21 de Novembro 09'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-6006778943411430471</id><published>2009-11-02T05:03:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-11-02T05:07:04.332Z</updated><title type='text'>'Do Começo Ao Fim', Abranches 09</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3DVa2DKSnU0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3DVa2DKSnU0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-6006778943411430471?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/6006778943411430471/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/do-comeco-ao-fim-abranches-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6006778943411430471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6006778943411430471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/do-comeco-ao-fim-abranches-2009.html' title='&apos;Do Começo Ao Fim&apos;, Abranches 09'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-564021432785404304</id><published>2009-11-01T18:39:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-11-01T18:49:09.126Z</updated><title type='text'>"You don't plan...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;... your own child's funeral. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;You plan for the best of times. You can plan their weddings, you can plan for grandchildren. But somethings you never plan"(...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;'Queer as Folk', Series 1 - Episode IV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-564021432785404304?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/564021432785404304/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-dont-plan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/564021432785404304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/564021432785404304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-dont-plan.html' title='&quot;You don&apos;t plan...'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-8105669785494905125</id><published>2009-10-31T23:38:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-10-31T23:40:59.165Z</updated><title type='text'>"Uma Coisa...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SuzKpN4rKHI/AAAAAAAAAbo/02tniNS7aCI/s1600-h/lalies.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 143px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398912862761199730" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SuzKpN4rKHI/AAAAAAAAAbo/02tniNS7aCI/s320/lalies.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; ... não é o que observamos, mas o que ela significa"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Metro de Lisboa - Linha Vermelha, Olivais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-8105669785494905125?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/8105669785494905125/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/uma-coisa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8105669785494905125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/8105669785494905125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/uma-coisa.html' title='&quot;Uma Coisa...'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SuzKpN4rKHI/AAAAAAAAAbo/02tniNS7aCI/s72-c/lalies.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-2112046342327910232</id><published>2009-10-31T19:17:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-10-31T19:19:22.049Z</updated><title type='text'>Love Letter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;To My Only Companion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Even when I am in bed my thoughts rush to you, my eternally beloved, now and then joyfully, then again sadly, waiting to know whether Fate will hear our prayer--To face life I must live altogether with you or never see you. Yes, I am resolved to be a wanderer abroad until I can fly to your arms and say that I have found my true home with you and enfolded in your arms can let my soul be wafted to the realm of blessed spirits--alas, unfortunately it must be so--You will become composed, the more so you know that I am faithful to you; no other woman can ever possess my heart--never--never--Oh God, why must one be separated form her who is so dear. Yet my life in V[ienna] at present is a miserable life--Your love has made me both the happiest and the unhappiest of mortals--At my age I now need stability and regularity in my life--can this coexist with our relationship?--Angel, I have just heard that the post goes every day--and therefore I must close, so that you may receive the letter immediately--Be calm; for only by calmly considering our lives can we achieve our purpose to live together--Be calm--love me--Today--yesterday--what tearful longing for you--for you--you--my life--my all--all good wishes to you--Oh, do continue to love me--never misjudge your lover's most faithful heart. ever yours ever mine ever ours.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Beethoven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-2112046342327910232?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/2112046342327910232/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/love-letter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2112046342327910232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/2112046342327910232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/love-letter.html' title='Love Letter'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-7102574398689388550</id><published>2009-10-29T01:57:00.012Z</published><updated>2009-10-31T15:10:52.996Z</updated><title type='text'>'The Fundamental Pulse'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/Suj5ZHq4ixI/AAAAAAAAAbA/Fu4ckNo6IfU/s1600-h/July+2007-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397838363354499858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/Suj5ZHq4ixI/AAAAAAAAAbA/Fu4ckNo6IfU/s200/July+2007-4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;To my Mom, Sorry for threatning your condition as a Woman. Thank You for being my Mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"A woman may be, like a man, so swayed by a great love that there is not a day in the whole month when her lover's touch, his voice, the memory of his smile, does not stir her into the thrilling longing for the uttermost union".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Marie Stopes, 'Married Love'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-7102574398689388550?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/7102574398689388550/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/fundamental-pulse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7102574398689388550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/7102574398689388550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/fundamental-pulse.html' title='&apos;The Fundamental Pulse&apos;'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/Suj5ZHq4ixI/AAAAAAAAAbA/Fu4ckNo6IfU/s72-c/July+2007-4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-444768268466264502</id><published>2009-10-27T01:51:00.006Z</published><updated>2010-10-09T12:51:26.028+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;The stumble of her high heels down those stairs sounded like someone playing the piano for the first time. Despite all the rambling, an innocent elegance floated in the air that brought a sweet melody to my ears. Such melody, such melody, it must be a young lady? I thought. What else can explain the charming way how she walks with high heels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-444768268466264502?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/444768268466264502/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/444768268466264502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/444768268466264502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/i.html' title='I'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-5696699553466677978</id><published>2009-10-13T01:20:00.011+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T19:24:29.077Z</updated><title type='text'>'Morrer Como Um Homem', Rodrigues 09</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MRkAWFWDIWQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MRkAWFWDIWQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"São as pessoas que os metem nessas categorias, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;não eu".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;João Pedro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;"To be or not to be" claimed once William Shakespeare. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Performance or 'performativity'? Judith Butler raises and argues in both her books, 'Gender Trouble', and 'Bodies That Matter', a new perspective towards gender and sexuality studies. I dare to say that cinema is a reflextion of our society. Rodrigues brings to Portuguese screens a matter that should be more consistent in peoples' minds. Matters that should be a concern of all comunities in order to achieve knowledge of who we are in this post-modern world. Rodrigues explores Butler's questions on performance and 'performativity'. A discussion to have in mind further ahead. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Perfect mise-en-scene. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Real world Portugal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Queer Magic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Our beautiful 'Mancha Negra'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Cannes Festival.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Thank you, Rodigues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#330033;"&gt;Thank you, Lisbon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;Butler in Discussion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-5696699553466677978?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/5696699553466677978/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/em-debate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5696699553466677978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5696699553466677978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/10/em-debate.html' title='&apos;Morrer Como Um Homem&apos;, Rodrigues 09'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-5518576127603757901</id><published>2009-09-29T03:05:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T03:31:21.848+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mónica</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;«No dia seguinte procurou-o.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Falou-lhe de Mahler, de Duras, de Sylvia Plath, de Anais Nin, de Virginia Woolf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Da loucura feminina.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Da paixão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;De como quando era pequena convivia com anjos, que lhe apareciam em casa, roçando as paredes, ou perto dos muros, que ela lambia. (...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Mónica retornava exaltada a "&lt;em&gt;O Monte dos Vendvais&lt;/em&gt;", a "&lt;em&gt;Ariel&lt;/em&gt;", a "&lt;em&gt;Orlando&lt;/em&gt;", sabendo de cor páginas de "&lt;em&gt;La Ravissement de Lol. V. Stein&lt;/em&gt;". Em certas madrugadas de desespero, revia as últimas cenas de "&lt;em&gt;A Dama de Xangai&lt;/em&gt;", até desentender a própria imagem que no ardil dos espelhos encontrava reflectida, assustada contigo mesma». &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Maria Teresa Horta, "Mónica" - III&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-5518576127603757901?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/5518576127603757901/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/09/monica.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5518576127603757901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5518576127603757901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/09/monica.html' title='Mónica'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-3565696713319097744</id><published>2009-06-30T16:31:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T16:33:12.188+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and Marriage</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vbOQc3kl1uo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vbOQc3kl1uo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-3565696713319097744?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/3565696713319097744/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-and-marriage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3565696713319097744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/3565696713319097744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-and-marriage.html' title='Love and Marriage'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-6157465530309559528</id><published>2009-06-25T02:17:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T03:21:30.100+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Gender Role Tease</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SkLQfubox3I/AAAAAAAAAZw/z3mRQGHjr6Q/s1600-h/gender+and+sexuality.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351068550728042354" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SkLQfubox3I/AAAAAAAAAZw/z3mRQGHjr6Q/s320/gender+and+sexuality.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt; Que realmente significa esta imagem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;O quê que a imagem realmente quer significar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;O que realmente significamos nós perante esta imagem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SkLQTyD2piI/AAAAAAAAAZo/CIhKf2fTmtU/s1600-h/143509~Shall-We-Dance-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-6157465530309559528?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/6157465530309559528/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6157465530309559528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/6157465530309559528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='Gender Role Tease'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SkLQfubox3I/AAAAAAAAAZw/z3mRQGHjr6Q/s72-c/gender+and+sexuality.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7047238772052934153.post-5052547656033164073</id><published>2009-06-23T00:16:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T02:03:15.976+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Maud Allan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SkARPGjcS2I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/dXEXt2YtyRY/s1600-h/maud%2520allen%25202.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 195px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350295308471126882" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SkARPGjcS2I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/dXEXt2YtyRY/s320/maud%2520allen%25202.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SkARDYqdbdI/AAAAAAAAAZI/vG0gm4IvUGc/s1600-h/10086238-FB~Maud-Allan-Actress-and-Dancer-as-Salome-Posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350295107173969362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SkARDYqdbdI/AAAAAAAAAZI/vG0gm4IvUGc/s320/10086238-FB~Maud-Allan-Actress-and-Dancer-as-Salome-Posters.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;1873-1956 ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Born in Toronto, Canada, Maud Allan was a choreographer remebered for her 'famously impressionistic mood settings'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;- What is a 'clitoris'? - Was the question her days. Today what are the questions? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7047238772052934153-5052547656033164073?l=gender-sexuality.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/feeds/5052547656033164073/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/06/maud-allan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5052547656033164073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7047238772052934153/posts/default/5052547656033164073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gender-sexuality.blogspot.com/2009/06/maud-allan.html' title='Maud Allan'/><author><name>Jorge Correia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04832529630874935384</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SLX5dsJyWVI/AAAAAAAAAEE/YQU6BO64SzE/S220/elf.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S4s2XEv6a2s/SkARPGjcS2I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/dXEXt2YtyRY/s72-c/maud%2520allen%25202.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
