<?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-5286191</id><updated>2011-11-07T11:09:03.718Z</updated><title type='text'>Ford Mustang</title><subtitle type='html'>cinema, poesia e outras inutilidades</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>310</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-114598941759834386</id><published>2006-04-25T19:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T19:23:37.596+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>APESAR DE TUDO: </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/114598941759834386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/114598941759834386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114598941759834386' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-113660296321588460</id><published>2006-01-07T03:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-07T03:02:43.216Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>03:00: está alguém aí?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/113660296321588460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/113660296321588460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html#113660296321588460' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-113271786190284440</id><published>2005-11-23T03:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-23T03:51:48.526Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>03:49:  O Vidro Azul transmite em podcast. Vão lá ver.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/113271786190284440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/113271786190284440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2005_11_01_archive.html#113271786190284440' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-113201954832138469</id><published>2005-11-15T01:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-15T02:29:35.153Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>22:15:  hm.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/113201954832138469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/113201954832138469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2005_11_01_archive.html#113201954832138469' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-112181564847129320</id><published>2005-07-20T00:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-25T02:06:53.496+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>22:15: and yet...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/112181564847129320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/112181564847129320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2005_07_01_archive.html#112181564847129320' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-110142110719712350</id><published>2004-11-25T22:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-25T22:18:27.196Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>22:15: [...] não devemos subestimar o progresso que representa avançar da ignorância desnorteada para a perplexidade informada.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/110142110719712350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/110142110719712350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110142110719712350' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-110065298430344731</id><published>2004-11-17T00:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-17T00:56:24.303Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>STRESS: o Rui do Touch of Evil, um blog que descobri há umas semanas e que sigo diariamente, sugere que a «situação de grande stress» a que o soldado estava sujeito pode, de alguma forma, justificar uma compreensão pelo que aconteceu. Eu discordo muito, muito disto. Na CNN: «The U.S. military is investigating whether a Marine shot dead an unarmed, wounded insurgent during the battle for Falluja </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/110065298430344731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/110065298430344731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110065298430344731' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-110004734411989945</id><published>2004-11-10T00:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-10T00:42:24.120Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MAIS SIDA: o Rodrigo respondeu ao meu post colocando várias questões:Pergunto-lhes directamente: porque razão a Igreja se opõe ao uso do preservativo? Percebo o objectivo com que o Rodrigo colocou a questão: quis separar a questão do preservativo da da SIDA. Isto porque, como se sabe, o apelo ao não uso do preservativo faz parte da doutrina da Igreja em relação à contracepção em geral, não apenas</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/110004734411989945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/110004734411989945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110004734411989945' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109996668933456731</id><published>2004-11-09T02:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-09T02:18:09.333Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SIDA: Diz Rodrigo Moita de Deus n' o Acidental:"Há qualquer coisa de maldoso nesta insistente mania de relacionar a Igreja com a propagação do vírus da SIDA em África. Para princípio de conversa talvez seja bom lembrar que a Igreja não tem o direito, nem a autoridade de proibir seja o que for, seja a quem for. A Igreja tem uma doutrina que transmite aos seus crentes, que são livres de a respeitar</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109996668933456731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109996668933456731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#109996668933456731' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109953364499762853</id><published>2004-11-04T02:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-09T00:29:34.336Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>E MORAL: é curioso verificar que a maior parte dos estudos estatísticos apontam a preocupação com «questões morais» como uma das principais razões que levaram os eleitores de Bush a fazer a sua opção de voto. Não me parece que o motivo bélico para o caso do Iraque — e os subprodutos Guantanamo e Abu Ghraib, nos quais a administração Bush tem uma responsabilidade política óbvia — contribuam muito </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109953364499762853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109953364499762853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#109953364499762853' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109953113712898535</id><published>2004-11-04T01:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-04T02:09:31.513Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>UM PAÍS GIGANTE: o engano é nosso. Dizemos «América» e lembramo-nos de Nova Iorque e de Las Vegas. Mas a América não é só isso. Aliás, a América não é nada  isso. «Isso» é o imaginário colectivo. «Isso» é apenas uma pequena parte, uma das mil facetas dos Estados Unidos. A América é feita disso e de muito mais: de campos de algodão, de centeio, de milho, de tabaco; de fábricas; de pequeno e grande</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109953113712898535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109953113712898535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#109953113712898535' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109952353872624230</id><published>2004-11-03T23:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-03T23:12:18.726Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>AREIA DEMAIS: no mesmo dia em que Bush ganha, a Janela Indiscreta acaba. Já não tenho dúvidas: o mundo uniu-se para acabar comigo.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109952353872624230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109952353872624230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#109952353872624230' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109947287028392438</id><published>2004-11-03T09:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-03T09:07:50.283Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ACABOU: Bush mais quatro anos. Alguém me explica como é que um homem que desencadeia uma guerra com base numa mentira é reeleito? A expressão já está tão gasta que por vezes parece perder a força: «desencadear uma guerra baseado numa mentira»; mas quando a releio apercebo-me novamente do absurdo. Uma guerra.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109947287028392438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109947287028392438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#109947287028392438' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109924217652314452</id><published>2004-10-31T17:02:00.001Z</published><updated>2004-10-31T17:02:56.523Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>WIGAN PIER: [...] Uma cena fica gravada na minha memória como uma das imagens de Lancashire: as mulheres encorpadas, embrulhadas nos seus xailes, com os aventais de serapilheira e as pesadas socas pretas, ajoelhadas na lama pardacenta, ao vento, procurando ansiosamente pequenos bocados de carvão. E felizes por o poderem fazer. No Inverno, o combustível é um desespero, quase mais importante que a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924217652314452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924217652314452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109924217652314452' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109924206854978311</id><published>2004-10-31T17:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-10-31T17:01:08.550Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>WIGAN PIER: [...] Tomei consciência do problema do desemprego em 1928. […] As classes médias ainda falavam "desses preguiçosos que vivem de subsídios", dizendo que "todos esses homens podiam encontrar trabalho se quisessem"; e, naturalmente, essas opiniões infiltravam-se na própria classe operária. Lembro-me do choque e do espanto que senti quando convivi pela primeira vez com vagabundos e </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924206854978311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924206854978311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109924206854978311' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109924202692868612</id><published>2004-10-31T17:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-10-31T17:00:26.926Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>WIGAN PIER: [...] A primeira coisa que deve impressionar qualquer observador de fora é que o socialismo, na sua forma desenvolvida, é uma teoria circunscrita por inteiro à classe média. O socialista típico não é, como imaginam as velhinhas caquécticas, um trabalhador de ar façanhudo com um grande fato-macaco e voz rouca. Ou é um jovem bolchevique de salão que dentro de cinco anos terá feito um </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924202692868612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924202692868612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109924202692868612' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109924174405953438</id><published>2004-10-31T16:55:00.001Z</published><updated>2004-10-31T16:55:44.060Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>WIGAN PIER: [...] a maioria dos socialistas de classe média, embora em teoria concordem com uma sociedade sem classes, agarram-se com unhas e dentes aos seus miseráveis restos de prestígio social. Lembro-me das sensações de horror que senti quando assisti às primeiras reuniões da minha secção local do ILP* em Londres. (Talvez tivesse sido muito diferente no Norte, onde as burguesia está menos </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924174405953438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924174405953438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109924174405953438' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109924170941232500</id><published>2004-10-31T16:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-10-31T16:55:09.413Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>WIGAN PIER: [...] Dito isto, é verdade que as «classes baixas» cheiram  mal? Sem dúvida que, em geral, são mais porcas que as  classes altas. Outra coisa não seria de esperar, considerando as circunstâncias em que vivem, porque, até há  bem pouco tempo, só menos de metade das casas na  Inglaterra tinham quartos de banho. Além disso, o  hábito de se lavar todo o corpo diariamente é muito  recente </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924170941232500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109924170941232500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109924170941232500' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109914714217240080</id><published>2004-10-30T15:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-31T00:24:40.950+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>OBL: afinal, bin Laden está vivo; e não só está vivo como divulga um vídeo mesmo antes das eleições. Isto não é inocente. Este vídeo vai provavelmente valer umas centenas de milhares de votos para Bush. Bush e bin Laden precisam um do outro para garantir a sobrevivência das suas «doutrinas» no curto prazo; Bush precisa de Laden porque baseou toda uma campanha no medo, no apelo às emoções mais </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109914714217240080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109914714217240080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109914714217240080' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109901243474694474</id><published>2004-10-29T02:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T02:13:54.746+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>VON: Descobri — através do Tomografia das Emoções — que Von, o primeiro álbum dos Sigur Rós, foi finalmente editado em Portugal. E eu não o estou a ouvir. O cd existe, está por aí, está disponível, e eu não o conheço. Nota mental: reavaliar prioridades — mas primeiro, comprar o cd.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109901243474694474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109901243474694474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109901243474694474' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109891831733721851</id><published>2004-10-28T00:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T00:05:17.336+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O MUNDO SEGUNDO DURDEN:  God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109891831733721851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109891831733721851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109891831733721851' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109883019541982504</id><published>2004-10-26T23:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T23:36:35.420+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>INDECISION 2004:  cheguei a isto  e a isto através do blog do Andrew Sullivan. No primeiro caso, um candidato republicano ao senado explica que o casamento entre pessoas do mesmo sexo pode levar — literalmente — ao fim do mundo. No segundo, um outro candidato republicano defende a introdução da pena de morte para os gays. Sim, leram bem.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109883019541982504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109883019541982504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109883019541982504' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109875174364535552</id><published>2004-10-26T01:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T01:49:03.646+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>UMA CARTA: Andamos por aí — o trânsito prova-o — e nem reparamos no caminho. Fazemos coisas, produzimos quantidades absurdas de coisas — sem que ninguém perceba muito bem para quê. Transmitimos mensagens em massa, em série; mas não comunicamos. Compramos telemóveis com câmaras e jogos e ecrãs a cores e toques polifónicos e o raio que os parta; e ninguém telefona. Escrevemos mails com os ridículos</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109875174364535552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109875174364535552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109875174364535552' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109866005418126350</id><published>2004-10-25T00:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-25T00:33:48.486+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>QUEM É ESTA MULHER? :</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109866005418126350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109866005418126350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109866005418126350' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109847865844369340</id><published>2004-10-22T21:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-22T21:57:38.443+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>HOJE É ISTO: </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109847865844369340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109847865844369340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109847865844369340' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109840421062647524</id><published>2004-10-22T01:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-22T01:16:50.626+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MY HANDS ‘ROUND YOUR THROAT:My hands ‘round your throat If I kill you now, well, they will never know Wake me up if I’m sleeping By the look in your eyes I know the time’s nearly come Wake me up ‘cause I’m dreaming Well, they’ll never believe what’s been happening here But caught in my mind there’s a way to get out Tindersticks - Until the morning comes</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109840421062647524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109840421062647524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109840421062647524' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109840389331412481</id><published>2004-10-22T01:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T22:53:41.280+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>THE END: A morte cerebral já tinha acontecido há muito; o doutor limitou-se a desligar a máquina. Uma eutanásia passiva e piedosa. O Pastilhas acabou. Foi lá que isto tudo começou. Começou para mim, e começou para os blogues que se seguem — perdoar-me-ão as omissões, não me lembro de todos. Obrigado Miguel.A BombaA causa foi modificadaA memória InventadaAvenida VastulecBomba Inteligente</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109840389331412481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109840389331412481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109840389331412481' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109822217988854649</id><published>2004-10-19T22:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-19T23:55:34.666+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>UM MAL:  Mas não sei se sobrevivo a Larkin e à escarlatina.O Luís anuncia assim n'A Natureza do Mal que abandona o blog. O Mal é para aí um dos melhores blogs que conheço. Tenho imensa pena. Espero que o Luís consiga sobreviver a Hull e à escarlatina. O Mal vai mudar. Os posts da Sofia já seriam por si só suficientes para fazer do Mal um excelente blog; se a isso somarmos a recente contratação do</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109822217988854649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109822217988854649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109822217988854649' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109795167819501676</id><published>2004-10-16T19:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-16T19:34:38.196+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CONTRATAÇÕES: há um novo participante no blog das maldades. Agora vai ser melhor ainda.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109795167819501676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109795167819501676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109795167819501676' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109779043229588827</id><published>2004-10-14T22:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-14T22:51:41.566+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>EM ESCUTA (2 de 3): O velho voz de gravilha não desiste. Desta vez abusa da voz fazendo dela percussão. Incrível. E é claro que não podiam faltar os instrumentos improvisados. Alguém já tocou um cigar box banjo ? E um chamberlain, o que é? O dicionário que consultei disse: "camareiro". Procurei esta última num dicionário de português e encontrei isto: camareiro: substantivo masculino; fidalgo que</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109779043229588827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109779043229588827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109779043229588827' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109742167662192180</id><published>2004-10-10T16:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-10T16:21:16.620+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A MORTE NÃO É O FIM:  neste caso até é o princípio de muitas coisas. Excelente. É espantoso como o desnorte e o cinismo — quando vistos por uma lupa pós-moderna — podem ser tão belos. Só é pena a RTP 2 ter descontinuado a transmissão desta série. Nos EUA a produção continua e já está no ar a 4ª época.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109742167662192180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109742167662192180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109742167662192180' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109710650923600655</id><published>2004-10-07T00:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-07T00:48:29.236+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>AZUL: nunca nenhuma noiteserá como a noiteem que explicamos o mundoem que sabemos do mundomais do que ele de nós;nenhum argumento será tão perfeito como o gin &amp; tonicque tomamos na noite azul</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109710650923600655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109710650923600655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109710650923600655' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109694481563015930</id><published>2004-10-05T03:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-05T04:27:20.493+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O FILME IMPOSSÍVEL: vi Lost in Translation em Janeiro. Revi-o ontem. Tudo na mesma: continua a ser o meu filme do ano; continuo a não conseguir dizer nada de jeito sobre ele. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109694481563015930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109694481563015930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109694481563015930' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109684653245362980</id><published>2004-10-04T00:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T00:35:32.453+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hüsker Dü: pronounced Hoo-sker Doo</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109684653245362980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109684653245362980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109684653245362980' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109684601913875840</id><published>2004-10-04T00:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-04T00:26:59.136+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>GOOGLE ME: miss+benfica+ponte+de+lima. Reparem: "Miss Benfica Ponte de Lima". "Miss Benfica Ponte de Lima". Não consigo parar. "Miss Benfica Ponte de Lima".</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109684601913875840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109684601913875840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109684601913875840' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109658950759095123</id><published>2004-10-01T01:11:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-10-01T01:12:51.046+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>K: para quem gosta de Kafka (ou seja, qualquer pessoa esclarecida), aqui está uma mini-biografia que vale a pena ler. É impossível falar de Kafka sem falar de Praga.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109658950759095123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109658950759095123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109658950759095123' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109650415533496582</id><published>2004-09-30T01:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-30T01:30:08.836+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>EDUCAÇÃO: o ano lectivo começa, como todos sabem, em meados de Outubro. Não basta, para que a educação seja boa, que as aulas comecem a tempo. Huxley escreveu, em 1937, isto: "O que é necessário é um sistema de educação que encoraje os rapazes e as raparigas (não somente na infância, como é o caso presentemente) a  ensinarem-se a si próprios; um sistema calculado para. estimular a curiosidade da </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109650415533496582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109650415533496582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109650415533496582' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109632921886301514</id><published>2004-09-28T00:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-28T00:53:38.863+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>EM ESCUTA (1 de 3): </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109632921886301514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109632921886301514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109632921886301514' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109632876227164640</id><published>2004-09-28T00:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-28T00:46:02.270+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>AS NOTÍCIAS BOAS SÃO RARAS:  resta saber se há letras miudinhas.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109632876227164640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109632876227164640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109632876227164640' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109624239888273265</id><published>2004-09-27T00:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-27T00:46:38.883+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O REGRESSO:  grande, grande filme. Vão ver antes que saia das salas. É o primeiro filme de Andreï Zviaguintsev, de quem nunca tinha ouvido falar e de quem ouvirei falar muito. Tensão de uma ponta à outra, mas uma tensão dupla: há uma que é visível, partilhada entre os personagens e o público; e outra, que só o público conhece. História simples, eficaz, perturbante. Fotografia irrepreensível. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109624239888273265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109624239888273265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109624239888273265' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109589773009634159</id><published>2004-09-23T01:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-23T01:02:10.096+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109589773009634159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109589773009634159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109589773009634159' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109572361979787931</id><published>2004-09-21T00:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-21T00:40:19.796+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PUTIN: Vladimir Putin visita Portugal em Novembro. Descansar um bocadinho e tal. Já o estou a ver, a ele, ao Santana e ao Portas, a sorrir para as câmaras. Convém reafirmar o óbvio: Putin é um manipulador, um candidato a czar, a autocrata, um homem que não estima sequer a liberdade de expressão — basta ver o que se passou na sequência do massacre de Beslan.     Putin, mais coisa menos coisa, é </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109572361979787931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109572361979787931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109572361979787931' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109571787175021818</id><published>2004-09-20T23:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-23T01:09:50.686+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SEM JEITO: este blog esteve parado quatro meses e recomeçou há uma semana. Houve pessoas que repararam neste recomeço. Foi uma coisa inesperada e que me tocou. Quero aqui agradecer à Claire do Little Black Spot, ao Paulo do Mundo Imaginado, ao Ricardo do Vidro Azul, e ao Flávio do A bomba a atenção que mostraram. Obrigadinhos.Adenda: e obrigado ao Musas Esqueléticas</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109571787175021818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109571787175021818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109571787175021818' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109563940259569113</id><published>2004-09-20T01:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-21T01:02:25.883+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CASH:  o country não é feito só de carroças, cowboys e campos de algodão: Delia, oh, Delia Delia all my life If I hadn't have shot poor Delia I'd have had her for my wife Delia's gone, one more round Delia's goneI went up to Memphis And I met Delia there Found her in her parlor And I tied to her chair Delia's gone, one more round Delia's goneShe was low down and trifling And she was cold and mean</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109563940259569113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109563940259569113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109563940259569113' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109548006212589299</id><published>2004-09-18T05:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-18T05:01:02.126+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CALENDÁRIO: sim, eu sei que o post anterior tem um mês de atraso. A seguir vou falar da nomeação do Santana e da silly season.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109548006212589299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109548006212589299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109548006212589299' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109547681060920384</id><published>2004-09-18T04:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-18T04:29:21.236+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>AINDA O ABORTO No fim de tudo fica uma única certeza: a de que ninguém discutiu realmente a questão da IVG. Falou-se muito e de muitas coisas em muitos sítios. Discutiu-se a autoridade do estado; discutiram-se os sistemas legais; falou-se muito de política pequena; quis-se saber quem tinha convidado a WoW, que filiações partidárias tinham; quis-se saber da legalidade da decisão de proibir o barco</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109547681060920384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109547681060920384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109547681060920384' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109547419750307809</id><published>2004-09-18T03:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-18T03:23:17.503+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>THE STORY OF MY LIFE:  São só mais uns postzinhos e depois acabo.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109547419750307809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109547419750307809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109547419750307809' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109547342759857284</id><published>2004-09-18T03:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-18T03:10:27.596+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109547342759857284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109547342759857284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109547342759857284' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109547285271336211</id><published>2004-09-18T03:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-18T03:00:52.713+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>OLÁ: teste teste 123 som.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109547285271336211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109547285271336211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109547285271336211' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109526824493365782</id><published>2004-09-15T18:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-15T18:10:44.933+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109526824493365782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109526824493365782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109526824493365782' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109525862571183257</id><published>2004-09-15T15:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-15T15:30:25.710+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109525862571183257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109525862571183257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109525862571183257' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109525851730605190</id><published>2004-09-15T15:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-15T15:28:37.306+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109525851730605190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109525851730605190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109525851730605190' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109520799618595765</id><published>2004-09-15T01:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-15T01:26:36.186+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109520799618595765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109520799618595765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109520799618595765' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109520420153572682</id><published>2004-09-15T00:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-15T00:23:21.536+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109520420153572682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109520420153572682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109520420153572682' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109519555244678973</id><published>2004-09-14T21:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-14T21:59:12.446+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109519555244678973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109519555244678973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109519555244678973' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109518282101838922</id><published>2004-09-14T18:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-14T18:31:12.560+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109518282101838922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109518282101838922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109518282101838922' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109512719903926234</id><published>2004-09-14T02:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-14T03:06:22.106+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109512719903926234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109512719903926234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109512719903926234' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-109460159305260026</id><published>2004-09-08T00:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-08T00:59:53.053+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109460159305260026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/109460159305260026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109460159305260026' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108561377351604396</id><published>2004-05-27T00:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-27T01:10:35.860+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>FCP:  O Porto ganhou a liga dos campeões. Muito bom. Fiquei muito contente. Mas o que realmente me interessa é o que vem depois do jogo. Gosto muito das entrevistas de rua. A histeria continua dentro de momentos.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108561377351604396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108561377351604396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108561377351604396' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108492768286901011</id><published>2004-05-19T01:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-19T01:48:02.870+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CAIS: Um vendedor da Cais aproxima-se do automóvel parado no vermelho. No banco de trás vai uma criança de quatro, talvez cinco anos. O pai, previdente, fecha à pressa os vidros eléctricos. O homem de meia-idade, dizia, aproxima-se: não fora o colete amarelo e ninguém repararia nele — seria então mais um homem na rua entre os milhares de homens na rua. Terceira vez: aproxima-se do automóvel. O </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108492768286901011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108492768286901011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108492768286901011' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108483466616931752</id><published>2004-05-17T23:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T23:57:46.170+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CONGRATS: no último ano houve para aí um máximo de 15 dias somados em que não li este blog. Parabéns Claire.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108483466616931752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108483466616931752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108483466616931752' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108431896979878094</id><published>2004-05-12T00:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-12T01:55:16.540+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A MINHA LATA: gosto muito da Ana e tenho duas coisas para lhe dizer. A primeira é: obrigado. Já nos conhecemos há muito tempo. A segunda é: ele deve chegar atrasado, a julgar pela frequência com que filma. O melhor é arranjares qualquer coisa para te distraíres enquanto esperas.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108431896979878094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108431896979878094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108431896979878094' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108354273872355768</id><published>2004-05-03T01:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-03T01:22:13.186+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>KILL BILL: do mal o menos. Kill Bill vol. 2 quase consegue que o par tenha valido a pena. Quase. A primeira parte tinha sido um filme repleto de referências a outros filmes e estilos — nomeadamente aos filmes japoneses de artes marciais produzidos em massa nos anos 70; Isto, por si só, não é um problema. O problema é que o filme não era mais nada senão isto. Era um filme visualmente estimulante e</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108354273872355768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108354273872355768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108354273872355768' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108302747795587859</id><published>2004-04-27T01:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-28T00:11:59.140+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>REVISÃO: faz hoje um ano que comecei a conduzir esta carripana. Já tem umas amolgadelas mas ainda anda. Gosto da estrada, do caminho, da viagem. A viagem é mais importante que o destino: "...the obsession's in the chasing and not the apprehending / the pursuit you see and never the arrest ".Foreign Affair when travelling abroad in the continental style it's my belief one must attempt to be </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108302747795587859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108302747795587859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108302747795587859' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108291071496176959</id><published>2004-04-25T17:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-25T17:35:00.983+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A POESIA ESTÁ NA UA: </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108291071496176959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108291071496176959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108291071496176959' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108291064980492552</id><published>2004-04-25T17:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-25T17:34:04.013+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O FIM DA MORTEnada nunca foi tão pouco.as ruas em câmara lenta informam:     isto está no fim.Eu digo que não, que nãoque ainda há maisque há mais depois do fim da morte    dos outrosque existimos apesar de tudoapesar da merda nos passeiosapesar das buzinas, do frio, apesar do lixo derramado por aí,existimos apesar do ruído das noites,do mármore escurecido.Existimos escandalosamente depois do </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108291064980492552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108291064980492552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108291064980492552' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108250451788693455</id><published>2004-04-21T00:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T00:44:54.996+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SINTONIA: O mais escandaloso na morte é que o mundo continua. É ofensivo, é a humilhação maior, é a prova mestra da irrelevância do enlutado. Sabemos de uma morte, de uma tragédia. Saímos à rua e o que vemos? O cabrão do mundo comporta-se como se nada tivesse acontecido. Há trânsito. Os semáforos funcionam. As lojas estão abertas. Há pessoas aparentemente felizes. Há telemóveis que tocam e bicas </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108250451788693455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108250451788693455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108250451788693455' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108241403171999722</id><published>2004-04-19T23:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T23:36:47.996+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MEDO DA MORTE: nunca me tinha acontecido uma morte. E esta nem sequer foi a mais próxima possível. É incrível, a morte, é escandalosa, ofensiva, ilógica.    Julgava saber que não somos eternos; entendia perfeitamente — numa perspectiva estritamente racional — a finitude. Mas nada, repito, nada me podia preparar para isto. A vida do pai da mulher que amo acabou. E acabou de uma forma tremendamente</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108241403171999722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108241403171999722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108241403171999722' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-108228870456268538</id><published>2004-04-18T12:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-18T12:47:59.076+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>FALTAS: afazeres  profissionais primeiro e uma tragédia pessoal depois — uma morte inesperada — roubaram-me a disponibilidade para actualizar este blog. Conto retomá-lo em breve.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108228870456268538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/108228870456268538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108228870456268538' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107914417059158982</id><published>2004-03-13T02:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-03-13T02:36:56.733Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>NÃO SEI: parece tudo demasiado mau para ser real. Mas é. Não sei o que faça disto. Não compreendo, não compreendo. Que mundo perro.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107914417059158982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107914417059158982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107914417059158982' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107654566392945736</id><published>2004-02-12T00:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-12T00:32:43.950Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CAVE 3: O que se segue é um excerto retirado de An Introduction to The Gospel According to Mark, por Nick Cave. Eu não acredito na existência de um deus. Mas fico contente em saber que, de vez em quando, a fé ajuda a produzir obras notáveis. Lamento, claro, quase tudo o resto.    When I bought my first copy of the Bible, the King James version, it was to the Old Testament that I was drawn, with </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107654566392945736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107654566392945736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107654566392945736' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107637454319762007</id><published>2004-02-10T00:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-10T00:58:59.246Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CAVE 2: Though the Love Song comes in many guises — songs of exultation and praise, songs of rage and of despair, erotic songs, songs of abandonment and loss — they all address God, for it is the haunted premises of longing that the true Love Song inhabits. It is a howl in the void, for Love and for comfort and it lives on the lips of the child crying for his mother. It is the song of the lover </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107637454319762007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107637454319762007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107637454319762007' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107629134745077184</id><published>2004-02-09T01:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-09T02:34:44.670Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CAVE:  Nick Cave toca no CCB a 24 e 25 deste mês. São dois concertos fora de ciclo: o australiano não está neste momento em tournée; Milão e Lisboa são as duas únicas cidades com concertos agendados nesta altura. Lisboa verá uma versão reduzida dos Bad Seeds, no que se adivinha ser um concerto mais intimista que o habitual.    Nicholas Edward Cave é um génio. Corrijo: o Nick Cave pós-let Love In </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107629134745077184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107629134745077184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107629134745077184' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107585900233466772</id><published>2004-02-04T01:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-04T01:59:31.390Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ABA?: serei o único que não consegue abrir o  Aba de Heisenberg ?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107585900233466772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107585900233466772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107585900233466772' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107576647970963421</id><published>2004-02-03T00:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-03T00:49:19.186Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>as coisas que não vemosexistem maise mais pesadamentemais perversamentedo que as que tocamos;sim, sabemos:as coisas prestes a entraras que estão atrás da porta.a nesga que por pouco as atraiçoaé incomparavelmente mais intensa,mais desconcertanteque um meio-dia em julho.e, ainda assim,não existem.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107576647970963421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107576647970963421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107576647970963421' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107542136882128757</id><published>2004-01-30T00:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-30T00:11:11.076Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>COMO DISSE? Hoje houve alguém que aqui veio parar quando procurava "putas convívio portugal". Gosto do toque profissional mas leve que a palavra "convívio" confere à coisa. Assim não me chateia — até acho piada. Outra pessoa procurou "fotos homens jeitosos"; imagino a desilusão. Sorry. Não conheço nenhum.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107542136882128757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107542136882128757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107542136882128757' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107542002300008792</id><published>2004-01-29T23:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-29T23:51:24.246Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>UM MILHÃO É UMA ESTATÍSTICA.  O único motivo para os disparates e exageros mediáticos a que temos assistido nos media é a morte ter sido transmitida em directo. Foi o facto televisivo que impressionou e consternou. A morte propriamente dita foi trágica, é certo, mas não justificava a histeria que se seguiu. Mais do que a morte, lamentou-se a morte em directo. Mais do que a morte do jogador, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107542002300008792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107542002300008792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107542002300008792' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107534038808759680</id><published>2004-01-29T01:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-29T01:43:41.060Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MENOS UM: cheguei agora a casa depois de ter visto o Lost in Translation. Estou não sei como. Aquilo não é uma comédia romântica. Aquilo é certamente um dos filmes do ano, e sabe-se que as comédias românticas nunca são candidatas a tais títulos. Vamos agora em Janeiro mas eu aposto já. Duas pessoas que se encontram em Tóquio, duas pessoas que se questionam, e se apaixonam. Se ainda não tiver </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107534038808759680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107534038808759680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107534038808759680' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107525448929901900</id><published>2004-01-28T01:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-28T02:39:18.543Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PEQUENOS:  quand oiço, na fogueira de vaidades e discursos bacôcos que é a Bancada Central, na TSF, adeptos do Benfica e de outros clubes afirmarem que dariam, generosamente, "duas ou três vitórias do seu clube"  (sic) em troca da vida de Feher, sei que algo está profundamente errado. Quando as televisões repetem até à exaustão — até à insensibilidade — as imagens da morte do jogador, alguma </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107525448929901900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107525448929901900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107525448929901900' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107472839792467906</id><published>2004-01-21T23:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-21T23:54:12.123Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PING: Bom. Há mais de um mês que não actualizo isto. Há mais de dois que trabalho catorze horas por dia — sobra o intervalo para o almoço, o intervalo para o jantar e o intervalo para dormir. Nem o dia 1 escapou à avalanche. Não me queixo. Mas também não tenho tempo. Esta fase está quase a terminar. A partir da próxima semana — se tudo correr como espero — tiro o carro da garagem. Obrigado a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107472839792467906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107472839792467906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107472839792467906' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-107188349962206898</id><published>2003-12-20T01:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-20T02:27:39.546Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CUSTA A PEGAR: tenho tido o carro estacionado. E não é que não queira sair com ele. Mas há um gajo em segunda fila que me barra o caminho. Preferiria que fosse um Trabant; mas não é. É um Trabalho. Ainda cá estou.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107188349962206898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/107188349962206898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107188349962206898' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-10700628061030850</id><published>2003-11-28T23:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-28T23:58:01.686Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>COIMBRA 4:</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/10700628061030850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/10700628061030850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#10700628061030850' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106980729892331497</id><published>2003-11-26T00:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-26T01:50:37.903Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>NASCEU: mais um blog de referência: a causa nossa. Bem-vindos.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106980729892331497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106980729892331497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106980729892331497' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106963808025317986</id><published>2003-11-24T01:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-24T02:56:09.873Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>COIMBRA 3: passei o fim-de-semana em Coimbra. Há ali um romantismo que me interessa. Não sei se é a baixa. Não sei se são os velhos. Não sei se é o comércio tradicional ou os cafés majestosos. Acho que não é a academia. Corrijo: sei que não é a academia. Há ali uma beleza que só um estranho pode apreciar. E como se isso não bastasse, Coimbra tem isto, isto, isto, isto, e isto. Esta série continua.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106963808025317986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106963808025317986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106963808025317986' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106937817460672206</id><published>2003-11-21T01:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-24T01:34:51.560Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>COIMBRA 2: o PC da Aba de Heisenberg e o Paulo do Mundo Imaginado responderam, muito simpaticamente, ao meu pedido de sugestões para a ida a Coimbra. Na verdade já não sei se a vou poder realizar — chatices no trabalho — mas fica já o agradecimento.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106937817460672206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106937817460672206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106937817460672206' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106929356297329348</id><published>2003-11-20T01:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-20T02:21:07.840Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PIRATAS: este blog foi vandalizado. No post com as fotos do Duane Michals, uma das fotos foi substituída por uma imagem da Britney Spears. Não sei como conseguiram fazer isto; para aceder à área de arquivo de imagens é preciso — julgava eu — conhecer a password do blog. Se podem fazer isto, poderão fazer muito mais. Entretanto já recoloquei a foto original. Se isto desaparecer de um dia para o </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106929356297329348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106929356297329348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106929356297329348' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106929176602248208</id><published>2003-11-20T01:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-20T01:31:22.483Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>COIMBRA: só lá estive uma vez, há muito tempo. Vou lá passar o fim-de-semana. Preciso de sugestões e conselhos:  para a noite, restaurantes e bares; para o dia, exposições e pontos de interesse. Se a caixa de comentários não funcionar — como parece cada vez mais ser o caso — usem o endereço lá em cima. Obrigadinhos.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106929176602248208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106929176602248208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106929176602248208' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106928768666149538</id><published>2003-11-20T00:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-20T01:22:07.796Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>NEM TUDO É MAU: tive um dia terrível. Não fora a notícia da prisão de Michael Jackson e o dia de hoje entraria directamente para o top 30 dos maus dias.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106928768666149538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106928768666149538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106928768666149538' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106911937957128303</id><published>2003-11-18T01:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-18T02:47:06.110Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>WORK: os meus sete leitores devem ter notado um abrandamento no ritmo de actualizações desta carripana. Trabalho. Que digo eu? O trabalho não é uma desculpa suficientemente boa, claro. Se eu fosse mais organizado, esforçado, disciplinado — numa palavra, trabalhador — arranjaria tempo; e, mais do que tempo, arranjaria a disponibilidade mental que o blog exige. Se. Mas não sou, é este o mundo que </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106911937957128303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106911937957128303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106911937957128303' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106894555936913932</id><published>2003-11-16T01:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-16T02:40:46.246Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>LEMBRA-TE DO ALCATRÃO QUENTE: nos dias de alcatrãode cremalheirasnem tudo era o que se via.Havia poesia por escrever,poesia incubada, poesia que se lia nas pedras, na berma, nas estevas,nos joelhos impecavelmente, alegremente feridos.Não havia, na verdade, sequer vontade ou apreçopelas distorções dos poemas.Agora o puto gargalha;ouço-o, lá do fundo, judear comigo.Agora os dias são de borrachas e </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106894555936913932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106894555936913932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106894555936913932' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106860121756668296</id><published>2003-11-12T01:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-12T01:52:42.570Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CÃES: acabo de chegar do cinema. Vi finalmente o Dogville. Ainda estou em choque. Uma ideia inicial: parece-me que o suposto anti-americanismo do filme, a existir, é absolutamente secundário na obra. Os grandes temas de Dogville são a presença do mal na natureza humana; a inexistência de redenção; a mesquinhez; a desilusão; a pequenez; a mentira; a escuridão.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106860121756668296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106860121756668296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106860121756668296' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106859993219006199</id><published>2003-11-12T01:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-12T01:18:55.373Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MORAL A LESTE: As autoridades de Moscovo decidiram impôr sanções a casais que se beijem na rua. Suponho que seja por esses costumes imorais afastarem os turistas ocidentais, que não estão habituados a essas modernices. A notícia está aqui.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106859993219006199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106859993219006199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106859993219006199' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106859705582180678</id><published>2003-11-12T00:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-12T01:01:00.090Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MORTE NO 23: desapareces na ideia da morte,morres no banco: vinte e três.Nada te aflige na morte pública — nem a suspensão de granito;suspendes-tepões o tempo em pauseem Monsanto.Deve ser uma coisa esquisita, isso de não existir. Ficas sem saber.Play.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106859705582180678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106859705582180678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106859705582180678' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106851187843382574</id><published>2003-11-11T00:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-11T01:52:17.910Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MANUELA: Manuela trabalha muito; trabalha muito e com muita gente. Tem um trabalho chato, impossível, sem significado. As pessoas odeiam-se. As pessoas transfiguram-se no trabalho. No trabalho não se escolhe as companhias — são elas que nos escolhem a nós. As pessoas odeiam-se quando não têm outro remédio senão estar juntas. As pessoas com quem se está — e com quem não se escolhe estar — só são </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106851187843382574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106851187843382574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106851187843382574' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106842503287896860</id><published>2003-11-10T00:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-10T01:24:47.223Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>CIRCUNVOLUÇÔES:  é quase impossível que aqui estejamos.O próprio mundo é improvável: um equívoco.Estremeço na possibilidade.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106842503287896860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106842503287896860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106842503287896860' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106842366812899982</id><published>2003-11-10T00:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-10T00:37:57.976Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>INTERVALOS: até já Miguel.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106842366812899982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106842366812899982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106842366812899982' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106807811982578550</id><published>2003-11-06T00:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-06T01:47:58.770Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>TEATRO QUÊ?: conversa na mesa ao lado: uma rapariga a viver temporariamente em Lisboa pergunta a outra que mora  na capital onde é o Teatro Nacional D. Maria II e como pode ir para lá (queria ir ao concerto dos Blur no Coliseu e tinha combinado um encontro no teatro). A lisboeta não sabe. "Ah isso não faço ideia". Não sabe. Não sabe onde é o Teatro Nacional D. Maria II. Sei que mora em Lisboa há </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106807811982578550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106807811982578550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106807811982578550' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106807157018147172</id><published>2003-11-05T22:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-05T22:36:07.743Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>LEMBRANÇAS: em tempo de míngua de posts sabe particularmente bem receber prendas; se for de gajas porreiras, melhor ainda. Obrigado Papoila.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106807157018147172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106807157018147172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106807157018147172' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106799098247604906</id><published>2003-11-05T00:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-05T02:33:19.326Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>DIAS SEM NADA:  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106799098247604906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106799098247604906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106799098247604906' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286191.post-106790863530761205</id><published>2003-11-04T01:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-04T01:48:29.370Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O TERROR DA METAMORFOSE: ela levanta-se sempre primeiro.toma banho, prepara o pequeno almoço,despe-se a minha frente,para logo de seguida se vestir,e eu,por entre a penumbra mental do despertar,vejo-ae vislumbro-me;levanto-me eue tomo um duche frioe seco-mee visto-metroco de roupacomonão comofodo-menão me fodofumoe ainda sou euquem fumaainda sou eu quem observa o luto involuntárioaqui da varanda </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106790863530761205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5286191/posts/default/106790863530761205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fordmustang.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106790863530761205' title=''/><author><name>hugo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16799325858853141602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
