quem ensina a aprender

A mensagem oficial é não tenha vergonha de ser ignorante/ o ódio é filho da repetição/ mestres de minha nação, amigo que me entrega o difícil com seu sorriso de acolhida/ reverencio o professor que me deu letra com letra/ a mulher de curtos cabelos brancos que me mostrou a beleza/ já conquistada: conquiste!/ reverencio aquela que me elogiou na minha redação de sexto ano/ a linguagem que mostrou a ilusão do mundo e a trilha do tesouro/ salve o professor que emprestou livros para Rimbaud e disse: são teus também/ língua espada que corta até o discurso pai/ porque posso ser diferente porque tenho perguntas/ a amarelada imagem do herdeiro escravocrata refletida no mundo/ aquele que alimentou essa chama de que nada se explica/ trouxeram no seu bico a curiosidade para o pássaro ainda sem penas/ escolhas sem fim na marcha sem fim/ no muro da minha arrogante preguiça martelou dúvidas socráticas/ me preparou para o poder do não sabido e seu cântico/ conhecer é poder poder ser/ trocar os nomes, inventar a liberdade/ eu vos reverencio

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima

XIV (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

He arrived late at the office, XIV was preparing the news the next day. He said he had a strange night. He woke up in his bed and could not move. Through the wall, he saw his daughter vomiting in the bathroom. Many people danced in a street, drugs, men kissed twelve-year-old girls without a face, a desperate mother was looking for her daughter.

Suddenly one of them turns to XIV and says: "I am noble, I won this medal in the war against the Indians". A beggar girl wrapped in a gray blanket, a baby on her lap. Where is your father, asks XIV, she shows a corpse of a black man, like a fruit hanging from the trees. A priest by his side says, "I came to ask you permission to the burial". In the street where they danced, now they saw cars burned, attacks on shops, confrontations. Only then did he realize that in the other room, his daughter, who had vomited after dinner, had fainted. You can not move. XIV notices a native man hiding behind the door and wakes up. XIV comments that they are called to think next week's agenda, want to insert subtexts, a terrorist group or solitary avenger had been committing crimes against policemen in the periphery. He arrived in the office late because he had not slept well, he had discovered that he had been around the house looking for something in the drawers. Next to his bed, a dirty sneaker with blood.

Afonso Jr. Ferreira de Lima, 2015

https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2015/04/xiv.html

K, the flâneur (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

K is a ghost. He should have a goal since he is a character. He should have obstacles.

K. circles the avenue of the cemetery. The bones were buried beneath the new store. An agreement with the city hall. They're ghosts on the escalators.

Trapped in the penal colony. He always thought it was comic the justice as torture gear. "The condemned was the most excited, everything in the machine interested him." Condemned without knowing why.

K stands in an avenue, lights, the rock of the margin, waiting for the flow of cars that will not stop just because it has a pedestrian strip. Ghosts are educated.

He was born in the ghetto, the tongue is another out there. The heir is killed, the Empress murdered, the heir murdered. He knew the warm and dangerous time of waiting. He wants to play and live the same life differently every day.

K went to see the supermarket promotion, euphoria. The cash girl talks about the new labor law, says she'll go crazy if she counts money from ten in the morning to ten at night.

He liked to think about what we see, but we can´t understand. He thinks he must not understand. Everyone has thought of everything for you. The law is just another horror.

The third act ends with no conclusions. No one has improved. He also did not learn. He does not know if, in fact, they are not right, relentless logic, flawless doctrine, to grow and to advance, he only knows that what he can is is to remain what it is.

K sees the glass rising up to the sky, the lights on the facade, palm trees, the Japanese garden, a sculpture decorated with lights. K sits in the theater and looks at the empty chairs, the show will start. The protagonist is mediocre but beautiful. The boy behind him tells his girlfriend that he wants to leave.

The greatest of thinkers, with hammer blows, like the ordinary Victorian bourgeois, despises the common man. The "well-born", proud of themselves, despising the morality of compassion, the contempt and irony of the powerful.

Lawyer K. He was a ghost before he died. Remember the funeral of the grandfather, the castle on the hill. He felt that Madame Bovary was him, in a gray life. He resigned because he could not write.

K count the hungry miserable people on the way: on the subway stairs, without shoes in front of the supermarket, wrapped in white cloth like a caterpillar, shorts only, with a back curved by a deficiency, trousers loose and shaggy and white hair, etc. etc.

The city is ugly, the city is the monster structure, the city is built by the absurd. "What are the dangers of the forest and the savannah compared to the daily clashes of the civilized world?" He has seen it all before, he is very tired, he dreams walking.

Afonso Jr. Ferreira de Lima, 2017

https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2017/12/o-flaneur.html

incognito (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

The dark sea, the noise. Maybe it was just memory.

I do not doubt that I think. Good times. How would "right and obvious reasons" be? If his spirit had become accustomed little by little to conceive its objects more confusedly and indistinctly? The traditional joke: "the clear and distinct perception is that which can give certain and undoubted judgment".

Border guards thought his writings were codes of war. He, himself, fleeing from nationalism, which is the status quo, poetry on behalf of the nation, obsession with the island issue.

The Will.

He had dropped his hat while fleeing the Nazis. It rained, the light diminished, art and bohemia broken, the south. The true desert of grapes. It was all very simple.

In the sand, some bone, it could be a skull. The true tragedy, the banal.

The source-woman looked immobile and her face was livid.

"Remove thought from sensible and imaginable things." Suddenly, the gray seemed enough.

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2019/05/incognito.html

incógnito

O mar escuro, o barulho. Talvez fosse apenas a memória. 

Não duvido que penso. Bons tempos. Como seriam "razões certas e evidentes"? Se seu espírito se habituava pouco a pouco a conceber mais confusa e indistintamente os seus objetos? A piada tradicional: “a percepção clara e distinta é a que pode dar juízo certo e indubitável”.

Os guardas de fronteiras pensavam que seus escritos eram códigos de guerra. Logo ele, fugindo do nacionalismo, que é o status quo, poesia em nome da nação, obsessão com a questão da ilha. 

A vontade.

Deixara cair o chapéu enquanto fugia dos nazistas. Chovia, a luz diminuía, a arte e a boemia quebraram, o sul. O verdadeiro deserto das uvas. Era tudo muito simples. 

Na areia, algum osso, podia ser uma caveira. A tragédia verdadeira, o banal. 

A mulher-origem parecia imóvel e seu rosto era lívido. 

"Apartar o pensamento das coisas sensíveis e imagináveis". De repente, o cinza pareceu suficiente. 

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima

the maupassant way (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

"A short story in the manner of Maupassant" - says the Russian in the subtitle of his tale "The Murder", adding - "A real story."

In 1892, Tolstoy made a version of Guy de Maupassant's "The Doomed to Life," 1883. We have some lines written on the margins, which seem to be imagined situations to be inserted, but none of them are in the publication.

Thus, phrases such as "The judges were elegant, there were jurors, prosecutors, speeches and, with all pomp, they decided on the guillotine" or "In Germany, after the duel between a baron and a bourgeois for gambling, the principalities gave up winning with chance "(whose insertion is marked with *) - does not seem to fit the whole.

Let's look at the two versions:

"The island did not have many ways to make a fortune, and the monarch lived relatively modestly in comparison with his kinsmen on the Continent, and when the judge condemned the defendant to death, he could not imagine how costly it would be to bring a guillotine from France. They thought of ways to kill. The gallows: there were no trained men and the spectacle could degenerate into miserable torture. The poison: the specialists lived far away and wanted a place to lodge the family. Death by drowning: a legend of a killer of past centuries, who would have come back, still left people terrified. What to do? The game was the only source of income for the small kingdom * and the monarch was forced to take the man into a cell, but the exchange of guards was constant. After the calculations, a lifetime pension sounded much more reasonable. That is how the kingdom of Monaco ended up swapping the death penalty for balance in the accounts."

-

"It was depressing to see the king so dejected. No one wanted to shoot a man for so little, he even went to the jail with a pistol in his hand, ready to put an end to the case.
But ... What if the shot was missed? The knighthood would not cover such an embarrassment in Europe. Is not it enough to call the kingdom 'village'? It would not be enough to say that it feeds its court and army with the roulette? 

What to do, if between the little tax and the fight of the game, it is worth more the second? But there was no way to kill a guy without to import things, people, even import that courage. 
Techniques had moved on, we were in a century of law and order, no one was going to stick a knife into the man without a certain training. 
Still, many people thought that freedom was incompatible with a 'state'. It was all debts and, with so much luxury to be sold and bought, the rich disliked obligations. The last spectacle at the Opera looked very poor. 
They thought, they thought. The criminal was released on the mountain. He came back in an hour, he could not hide in such a small kingdom. They tried to put him on a ship. The captain warned that the press wanted to board together, which made the case impossible. Already it was spoken in revolt by fear of new tax. The court began to donate to get a hangman. At that moment, someone did the math and realized that a pension and a farm in the mound was much higher. So they signed the contract and finished the death penalty. "

Afonso Lima, 2016

https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2016/02/a-maneira-de-maupassant.html 

Mitologia Nórdica - Introdução

Before the Revolution (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

You ask me, "what happened before the revolution?" Before the pilgrims, the prosthesis-of-memory, the robot-lovers, the lunar calendar, the impending war, and the smart jade tunics?

Our country was rich and it was invaded. The possession of the land was something new here, but it was a mark of the nobility of the invaders. Using our work for their employees seemed normal to them. The people were losing their lands, which were given to Religious Orders and to the Army.

A girl who saw her village being burned became a rebel leader. Allied to a foreign empire overthrew the Old Regime.

The lands were purchased from the Religious Orders but donated by the new allies to powerful families descended from the invaders. They created foreign language schools, technology centers. Rice production has been replaced by luxury products for export. War came and the Empire collapsed, thousands died of starvation.

Then came the revolution.

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2019/05/antes-da-revolucao.html

Thomas Mann in Brazil (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

"It is said that the god Hermes when he crosses a man's path, inspires him with the desire of distance." Mr. Mann drank his tea on the terrace of the hotel, with his dark glasses for which he gazed with visible satisfaction at the limpid, mild climate. He had come to Brazil for a "secret" one-month trip, thinking of maintaining discipline in creating his new book, since in Southern California he was "constantly swallowed up for solar activities" - lectures, official tributes, interviews, perhaps because it proved that America "was what everyone knew". (In addition, he had had severe lung surgery.) 

Roosevelt had said that he would be a great president for Germany. It seemed simply morbid how they wanted to separate him from everyday humanity. "The trip is the biggest study," said my teacher, but I traveled to stop the time, "he said humorously, requesting another slice of lemon pie. "I've always wanted to see things from afar," he said, seeming to look at me, protected by his glasses. I did not dare to return the look. I preferred pool water. I drank another cup, even with the heat of 25 degrees.

He spoke very slowly, all his movements seemed studied, as if they were part of an opera, but I thought that had nothing to do with arrogance or pedantry, but with a European culture that I would never completely understand. And at the same time, I was constantly feeling that I was also acting, needing to be able to do things in a timely manner, that there was a measure of everything. Especially for "that". "Say it all, but never say 'I,' say Proust said.

Nothing "of it" was spoken at that time. When I saw Mrs. Mann for the first time in New York, I was amazed at his masculine appearance. My father, who had known her many years before, had the greatest admiration for her and, precisely, considered her feminine, to look "strong and sensual". The first thing that struck me, which may be really stupid, was that she was not happy. Today, I think it was a sort of extreme serenity, pride, and detachment, for being the pillar of the house. He, on the contrary, looked like a fragile bird, had white skin, a tender look, and a slightly comic mustache. Somehow, nothing in him made me see the "god of literary philosophy," "incarnate Germany," Plato's "nostalgia" with which he was generally described. Did he feel free because he came alone?

I was a young journalist who had just graduated, the son of a Brazilian concert pianist. I had been scaled to be her chaperone, especially in this first presentation, cause I could speak German and because, I believe, my father supposed it would be a "training job" for me. I had read his book about Venice, of course. I wanted to talk about it, but my shyness would not allow me to. Somehow, did he notice?

We went to the Botanical Garden. Regal Victory, this sexual flower, inspired a languid thought: "Most of my work, I owe to the spirit of my mother, this Brazilian. Oh, greed, oh hell - insatiable, invincible! says the philosopher." He seemed to study closely an elegant transvestite pacing through the orchids. And among the tall palm trees, which seem to grow up to the sky: "At the heart of everything is the will to live, the desire." I remembered reading about his brother's having recommended sleep therapy to him to "treat" his "condition."

- Andre Gide published in 1924 his "Coridon", in which exposes his intimate life. It is said that the Catholic philosopher Charles Maurras went to visit him a year earlier to avoid publication. He asked him to kneel and ask Christ for guidance, and Gide refused to do so. "It is not about being or not being rebellious, but about being true or not," he would have said.

I tried to fight the thought that such a kind man belonged to a past world; he thought that the weight he had on the bottom of his soul should be because he had suffered when he saw what he considered civilization being devoured by madness, which threatened to burn everything. But he was moving on. And he liked to talk.

We went up to the mountain. In the car, I dared to ask something about the book. "Have you read Goethe's Faust?" He asked. "Do you remember that man sells his soul to conquer the world? That makes him grow, he is forgiven. I believed that what saved us from all the bourgeois pettiness, the banality of the accumulating commerce and the calculating bureaucracy, was the art, I thought that art was this passage, that link between being to be and the timeless, the real and the abstract, the sensual and the universal. Thought in feeling, of feeling-thinking. But after the horror, I am afraid of which may be art, science, philosophy. Fear of closed Fausts in your world. "

We had dinner early, walked through the garden of the house that hosted us. He was very excited about his new book. He spoke in "abyss," "pact with the devil," "German destiny," and I, even though I knew myself to be in the face of History, began to feel an increasing weariness. "An intellectual seduced by the sleep of happiness, sunk in dirty stopped water of conservative thinking".

It was cold. We lit the fireplace. "My mother was not bourgeois, she told us beautiful stories, she played with us, and one day my father sent my Brazilian nanny away because she thought she was making me soft" - would he be talking to me? "Passion is death, all desire is suffering, said a pastor who was my father's friend, and this atmosphere generated the romantic revolt. "

The second bottle made us half drunk. 

"One day I went to the opera and met a young man who had been my colleague. Dressed with the latest fashion news, surrounded by friends, he appeared, as always, as an intimate of the arts and a daring thinker. Several times in public he had criticized my works, opinions, and even behavior, so that I knew that, behind this cheerful sympathy, there was an even colder hatred of the new and envy. He tried to make me ashamed of being a thinker, and free, trying to convince me I was the kiss of death since the rebellious people in this romantic environment were just the ones who did all the usual things, I just left the theater, this Hades inviting eternal repetition." 

He stopped. Our eyes met. I have seen him a few times after that, and I could not even say if I had learned anything from this man, the feeling I have is that I observed life passing freely.

Afonso Jr. Ferreira de Lima
2014
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2014/05/thomas-mann-no-brasil.html

THE THREE ÖBIS - romance (excerpt)

(English version. This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

THE THREE ÖBIS

PART ONE

The white rats had used all the mental Mithan they had left to erect a wall of tall rocks around their city. But now the guards, the Demon, and the Valkyries were advancing.

The rats felt a severe headache (they wore a black wire netting over their bodies, with a shaved head from which came three black braids), caused by the waves of evil vibration of these beings.

The guards, who used to paint their bodies in blood with drawings of dragons and wore a black leather strap on their mouths to represent their obedience to the Alafim, wore their shaven head, with large red hair at the nape of the neck. In them, they held finger bones of animals, the guards now erected with their mental strength enormous millennial trees from the ground, set them on fire and hurled them against the wall.

The Valkyrie, armed with venomous whips -human skeletons from the waist up to the neck, and bat wings, finished by a head made up of a red brain, and blood vessels that wore serpentine belts - were now coming to the walls, mounted on their winged horses, to bring terror to the fragile beings who could observe them, and to gather the living creatures that crawled on the earth, to hurl them from the sky.

The three-headed white demon opened the earth with the movement of its tail and shuddered the earth with its cries.

The water ceased to be collective property and became the property of the nobles of the land.

(to be continued...)


Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima

Porto Alegre, 2005
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2018/04/as-tres-obis-romance-trecho.html

https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/search/label/English%20version 

Guardianes de la Raza (ESP)

(Esta es una traducción rápida. La versión puede no estar en su forma final.)

- Yo sé cómo lo hicieron, dijo un muchacho rubio al llegar a la comisaría.
Una mujer judía y su hijo fueron víctimas. El corte de costos para las investigaciones había fomentado esos terroristas domésticos.
Según el joven, hubo una especie de ceremonia macabra.

*

Las tumbas eran iluminadas por antorchas. Todos bebieron el vino con hierbas, los jóvenes cantaron.

Thytes había sido convocado por los Guardianes de la Raza.
El joven rubio hacía preguntas al líder. Habían acusado otras creencias de sacrificios humanos y brujería, pero estaban lidiando con fuerzas ocultas.
- Somos también como lobos hambrientos - dijo el líder.

- Vapor negro del corazón, Espíritu de la Oscuridad, Serpiente Maligna, frío como el agua subterránea; feroz como un fantasma vengativo; ilimitado como la niebla de la noche - despierta!

- Thytes está evocando a los más poderosos demonios-cadáver -dijo el líder.
- Los muertos abandonados acaban atormentados y podemos usar la contaminación de sus maldiciones para fines mágicos. Se convirtieron en almas inquietas por no haber recibido los ritos correctos.

Los ayudantes trajeron dos cadáveres. El mensajero derramó sangre sobre ellos, hizo sus evocaciones.
- ¿Pero contra quién lanzamos maldición ?, pregunta el muchacho.
- No se trata de contra quién, sino de dentro de quien. Vamos a despertar esa pesadilla en el alma de cada joven de esa ciudad.

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima

Breed Guardians (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

- I know how they did it, a blond boy said as he reached the police station.
A Jewish woman and her son were the victims. Cutting costs for the investigations had fueled these domestic terrorists.
According to the young man, there was a kind of macabre ceremony.

*

The tombs were lit by torches. Everyone drank the wine with herbs, the young men sang.

Thytes had been summoned by the Breed Guardians.
The young blonde asked the leader questions. They had accused other beliefs of human sacrifice and witchcraft, but they were dealing with occult forces.
- We are also like hungry wolves, said the leader.

- The black vapor of the heart, Spirit of Darkness, Malignant Serpent, cold as underground water; fierce as a vindictive ghost; unlimited as the mist of the night - wake up!

- Thytes is evoking the most powerful corpse-demons, the leader said.
The abandoned dead end up tormented and we can use the pollution of their curses for magical purposes. They became restless souls because they had not received the correct rites.

The helpers brought two corpses. The messenger shed blood upon them, made his evocations.
- But against whom shall we curse? - asks the young man.
- It's not about who, but from within who. Let's awaken this nightmare in the soul of every young man in this city.

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima

Guardiões da Raça

- Eu sei como eles fizeram isso, disse um rapaz loiro ao chegar à delegacia.
Uma mulher judia e seu filho foram as vítimas. O corte de custos para as investigações havia fomentado esses terroristas domésticos.
Segundo o jovem, houve uma espécie de cerimônia macabra.

*

As tumbas eram iluminadas por tochas. Todos beberam o vinho com ervas, os jovens cantaram.

Thytes havia sido convocado pelos Guardiões da Raça.
O jovem loiro fazia perguntas ao líder. Haviam acusado outras crenças de sacrifícios humanos e bruxaria, mas estavam lidando com forças ocultas.
- Somos também como lobos famintos - disse o líder.

- Vapor negro do coração, Espírito da Escuridão, Serpente Maligna, frio como a água subterrânea; feroz como um fantasma vingativo; ilimitado como a névoa da noite - despertai!

Thytes está evocando os mais poderosos demônios-cadáver - disse o líder.
- Os mortos abandonados acabam atormentados e podemos usar a poluição de suas maldições para fins mágicos. Eles tornaram-se almas inquietas por não terem recebido os ritos corretos.

Os ajudantes trouxeram dois cadáveres. O mensageiro derramou sangue sobre eles, fez suas evocações.
- Mas contra quem lançaremos maldição?, pergunta o rapaz.
- Não se trata de contra quem, mas de dentro de quem. Vamos despertar esse pesadelo na alma de cada jovem dessa cidade.

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima

Livro: "O terceiro Reich no poder" - de Richard J. Evans - Parte 2

Livro: "O terceiro Reich no poder" - de Richard J. Evans - Parte 1

Church of Stratford-upon-Avon (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

The man screams on stage:
- "It is very dangerous the temptation that draws us to sin by loving virtue!"
- So be it! - responds to the mass of believers.
- "A woman would go through the fire and the water to have such a bandy man!", cries the woman.
-  So be it! - respond the faithful.
"I have to believe in my master!" - she says.

In the interview room, the reporter asks:
- What is the purpose of placing the playwright´s opus as the central Book of your worldview?
- We need simple phrases that might attract emotion, the woman said. Shakespeare has been a success for centuries, beginning with his actors who had much to learn by heart.
- But the playwright himself does not have a contradictory and ambivalent work? How to say The Complete Works is one thing.
- Shakespeare is simplification. We realized that the idea of ​​people continually generating questions dissociated society. The left-wing preach that there is "we" and "them". Taking into account the multitude of authors with whom the Academy has attempted to create confusion, the Stratford-upon-Avon Church says that "a Bardo unites, a protest splits" - the Reverend replied.
- You speak of mass deportation of nonwhite workers. Would Shakespeare accept that?
- "Your son-in-law is much more beautiful than black." Othello, Act I, Scene III. 
- How did the idea come about?
 - Of the actors' method. They received many pages only with their lines, but without the vision of the whole. Fear and anger, that's how the world turns, says the woman. Shakespeare gives a response to everything.

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima

2019

Antes da Revolução

- Você me pergunta, o que houve antes da revolução? Antes dos peregrinos, da prótese-de-memória, dos amantes-robôs, do calendário lunar, da guerra iminente e das túnicas inteligentes de jade?

Nosso país era rico e foi invadido. A posse da terra era algo novo por aqui, mas era marca de nobreza dos invasores. Usar nosso trabalho para seus ustento parecia normal para eles. As pessoas foram perdendo suas terras, que eram dadas a Ordens Religiosas e ao Exército.

Uma menina que viu sua aldeia ser incendiada tornou-se uma líder rebelde. Aliou-se a um Império estrangeiro derrubaram o Antigo regime.

As terras foram compradas das Ordens Religiosas, mas doadas pelos novos aliados a famílias poderosas, descendentes dos invasores. Criaram escolas em língua estrangeira, centros de tecnologia. A produção de arroz foi substituída pelos produtos de luxo para exportação. Veio a Guerra e o Império entrou em colapso, milhares de pessoas morreram de fome.

Surgiu então a revolução.

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima

Igreja de Stratford-upon-Avon

O homem grita no palco:
- "É bem perigosa a tentação que nos atrai ao pecado amando a virtude!"
- É assim! - responde a massa de fiéis.
- "Uma mulher atravessaria o fogo e a água para ter um homem tão bandoso!" - grita a reverenda.
- É assim! - respondem os fiéis.
- "Tenho de acreditar no meu mestre!" - ela diz.

Na sala de entrevista, o repórter pergunta:
- Qual o objetivo de colocar a obra do dramaturgo como Livro central da sua visão de mundo?
- Precisamos de frases simples que possam atrair pela emoção - disse a mulher. Shakespeare é um sucesso há séculos, a começar pelos seus atores que tinham muita coisa para decorar.
- Mas o próprio dramaturgo não tem uma obra contraditória e ambivalente? Como dizer que As Obras Completas é uma coisa só.
- Shakespeare é simplificação. Percebemos que a idéia de pessoas continuamente gerando perguntas desuniu a sociedade. A esquerda quer dizer que existe "nós" e "eles". Levando em conta a multiplicidade de autores com os quais a Academia tem tentado criar confusão, a Igreja de Stratford-upon-Avon diz que "um Bardo une, um protesto divide" - o reverendo respondeu.
- Vocês falam em deportação em massa de trabalhadores não-brancos. Shakespeare aceitaria isso?
- “Vosso genro é muito mais belo do que negro”. Otelo, Ato I, cena III. - Como surgiu a ideia?
 - Do método dos atores. Eles recebiam muitas páginas apenas com suas falas, mas sem a visão do todo. Medo e raiva, é assim que o mundo gira - diz a mulher. Shakespeare dá responsta para tudo.

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima

K. e Y. (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

The press was careful to call them only K. and Y. because they were teenagers. One is in a state of paralysis and another is dead. The two young Japanese women bought the package to participate in a Night of the Dead in a ruined castle in Scotland.

K. and Y. have never been bullied at school, never reported parental pressure to choose careers or improve their performance, showed no excessive fear of showing emotion, or excessive zeal to show themselves competent, never presented isolation or even drowsiness in class. The only strange fact would be their fixation on eating the school lunch in the bathroom.

The trip was a kind of Halloween camp, in which they would hear macabre stories, see fabricated figures and take scares of bizarre apparitions. A manager, a tourism expert, and an assistant were in charge of the organization of the castle, with cooks, an operator, a technician (invisible), two actors and three musicians (closest to the clients).

According to police, they arrived Friday with 30 other girls from London. They wandered around the castle being led by an actor dressed in traditional clothes.

At dusk, around 4:00 p.m., the big fire was lit and everyone heard the first story.

It was about the earthquake that occurred in the city of Aleppo after the Byzantine conquest. More than half the population died and they say that their souls wandered among the ruins, and ancient rituals were done to drive them away.

They had the banquet with meat, chicken, pork, salads and a strong soup, which some girls reported having a strange taste. They heard old songs that told of terrors of castles. They walked down dark corridors in which shadows seemed to freeze the air. Two or three times they screamed to see supernatural beings come out of nowhere.

After dinner, they were told the story of the owner of the castle, a judge who won the title of nobility after a bloody battle against the English. He was always a rude man, who fiercely debated theological issues and even prayed aloud in the midst of public meetings. With the age, happened to hallucinations and ended up restricted to a room of the castle, being taken care of by the son. But the son married, his wife became pregnant, and he decided to travel the continent for the woman to give birth in a healthier environment. It is said that his ghost never forgave his son for having died without his presence.

That night, many stories were told in front of the great fireplace of the castle, stories from all over the world.

One of them concerned a border town, which had been founded by the Romans, in which the inhabitants did not celebrate the festival of the dead created by the founder of Rome to appease the spirit of his brother whom he had murdered. Centuries later, women of the city began to present a kind of dance, in which they made involuntary gestures; the authorities, frightened, did not know how to act and thought they should encourage the phenomenon with music, until six days later hundreds of people had died of exhaustion.

An early morning snack was served with cold meat and strong tea. (The organizers say they have banned any kind of alcoholic beverage, but beer cans have been found in the rooms).

Some of the girls began to sleep on the rugs and couches, but the night was still lively.

One of the last stories was about the inhuman beings who, in Eastern legends, roam the fields and live in the rubble, killing unsuspecting travelers whose flesh they eat or, in their absence, visit cemeteries to feed on the flesh of the dead, which they unearth.

K. and Y. seemed very happy with the whole party. They slept in the bedroom with two more girls when the sun came up.

Unfortunately, when everyone was getting ready for breakfast at around 10 o'clock, colleagues realized they were not among them. The searches began. K. was found wandering near the river in an altered state, singing a song.

Then she fell into a terrible state where she could barely move and no sound came from her mouth.

The body of the other young woman was found in the icy river.

We learned of the letters that K. and Y. exchanged. In them, they swore fidelity to one another and Y. tells of a dream that has recurringly about a being that appears beside her in bed. And also about having had as a child a series of visions, which made her parents take her to psychiatrists. The parents did not confirm the information and the alleged psychiatrist was not found.

Police have not come to a conclusive hypothesis yet.

Afonso Jr. Ferreira de Lima
2016
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2016/10/k-e-y.html

The antiSherlock (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

 Momai was on vacation in the south, on a remote, but recently augmented beach with little shops, grocery store, banks, a hotel, full of flowered houses and lawns. A book about ancient empires, wine. It was his refuge from what people continued to call a city, Sao Paulo. His daughter had run away with her boyfriend, found selling handicrafts in Florianópolis. When he was already losing his self in the midst of metropolitan chaos ... There had been new stiff, an extra as a "secret service" consultant, the intelligence police. In this town, the most terrible crime was the disappearance of a neighbor's dog. Tyr, the god of war, slept peacefully in his wallet.

"Feel honored. It seems like crimes like you," Helio said on his cell phone. He was going, the case of a wealthy businessman in the Rio Grande do Sul had caused the police to request special advice.

The man had died of unknown cause (no heart, no sharp object, etc.) in a "hermetically sealed" environment. No sign of break-in in the house. He had been found in her quarters by her niece-in the middle of the night, she had heard, from her bedroom, that it was conjugated, a desperate cry. His uncle's door was open and he was agonizing beside her. You can only say "Callipolis". At this moment the brother-in-law arrived, an alcoholic despised by him, who spent the nights away.

 In the old mansion, they were welcomed by the housekeeper, Dona Schultz, a haughty lady with cold blue eyes and a pearl necklace a bit extravagant for her function.

- He was a little paranoid. We have a high wall that surrounds the entire property, with cameras and electric fence. About fifteen years ago, thugs entered this house, and since then he has had iron bars placed in the window and never slept without locking the doors. If you touch those walls, as movie detectives do, you will see that they are as solid as a castle.
-
There was a saber on the wall and a candle on the table. What if there was no light?

- He took things out of the place? It looks neat.
- Yes, he broke a lamp by the bed, sure as he tried to get up, dropped this chair and opened the door by dropping the iron wrench.
-
Momai glanced quickly at the jail, the key and the bars of the window.
"With that, did he call you?" He pointed to a rope that, passing through the ventilation duct, descended over the pillow.
"It happened only twice in all these years. He feared a collapse in the middle of the night. She goes into my room, goes through a small room next door. If you were attacked, why did not you call me?

Then he spoke to the gardener, a sullen, half-delirious man who was certain to see characters in the garden who had long spied on the master.
At the funeral, Momai watched the tearful niece, with her lilac hair and piercings, her still-red-looking brother-in-law, and the housekeeper.

"Did they have an affair?" he asked the young woman.
"Yes, but they held no resentment. As a young woman, they traveled together to Africa, where she worked as a volunteer nurse. He hired her. She served him even after he began his decade-long relationship with Giulio, an Italian marketer from whom he separated a year ago. He was depressed.
"Are you going to inherit everything?"
"Yes. Is not it wonderful?" My father became a rag after Mother died. My uncle explored me for years, a private emotional jail, and now he sets me free. Only the farm was in Giulio's name.
"You were the first person to enter the room. Was there something special to describe?
Nothing. Oh, yes, maybe. After the police's expertise, the room had been cleared for cleaning. I found that very strange. I even had the impression of seeing Dona Schultz cleaning even the chair, the grills, and the chime of the bell. Bizarre.

Hélio asked while Momai had his coffee with a cigar (he never found it in Sao Paulo):
"Callipolis is Plato's ideal city?"
- Exactly. I told you, the thing was bigger, as I predicted that Deputy Coriolanus was organizing an extermination group.
"The police ended up investigating the case. Was good. At least he was dismissed by the ethics committee. But now ... Who knows, the companion can give us some more facts?
"Helium, you know ... You can not create science by piling facts. I create the most bizarre theory that I am capable of and, if it is the most probable and nothing to deny, I take it for truth. I'm antiSherlock.

Giulio told me on webcam that he was certain of the murder.

"He had taken most of our most valuable paintings. We were probably going to start a legal battle. I will not be rude, violent and irascible, but a good man. We would be together if ... Well, I can only say that there were secrets, secret phones, sealed letters, there was an inevitable annual meeting somewhere in Sicily and I could never know what it was ... I can not live with lies! It was ten years of happiness, but ... I just feel like I'm not important.

Skill analyzed the rope. Dona Schultz was detained on remand. Ambiguous but important letters were found on a false room wall.

"The last case made me think of an international organization acting on philosophical convictions. For Plato, the government should be in the hands of kings-philosophers. It is not improbable that he had decided to abandon the cause. As for murder, the only way to get into the room would be through this ventilation duct, through the rope. Soon I thought of something that had run through it but then disappeared. Like in an old opus. A deadly, unknown vegetable poison that had somehow evaporated. Even so, she was careful to clean the rope ...

"Is the killer connected to the last "prophet psychopath "? But how...
"He went insane and exposed the corporation. Could they do it another time? There are cases where the present state completely determines the future without seeming to do so, appearing to be random. Berkeley said, "to be is to be perceived." Now, they know I know.

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima
2013
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2013/01/o-antisherlock-momai-estava-de-ferias.html

Memories of Paris (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

Philos Adelphos, 1840

I heard about him from the French friends who watched him wandering the street in thoughts until late at night. He was a strange young man, fascinated by books, libraries, and bookstores.
It was said that he loved enigmas and always wanted to enter the souls of others to guess their intentions. Thus, he worshiped creativity on the one hand and research on the other. In the United States, he liked cards and studied mathematics, but in Paris, he seems to have isolated himself in an abandoned mansion of an illustrious family, with haunted fame. He spent his days with the curtains closed and only walked down the street at night.
His company was the books, he did not receive visits and he hid his new location.
But what I have to tell you is that, to better observers than myself, this young man has developed what perhaps the mind scientists call a double personality.
This was all confirmed by the manuscript that left us. In it, he speaks of a friend, who in reality can never be found. This tale came out in a local magazine.
But what intrigued me most was his reflection left in another yellowed paper.
Here is what he thought, noted, certainly in artificial darkness made by curtains and illuminated by candles.

"The kind of plot that I want to create has never been seen by humans, except perhaps in the case of Oedipus, it has to do with imaginative ability, it does not mean that by observing things very closely we will understand them. Imagine the most absurd things. That's why artists are scientists of some quality, but I digress.
I think the ambiguity of perception is part of our judgments. A person may look at us one way, and then his exact opposite. We live surrounded by appearances.
The type of plot I want to create is based on hypotheses (creations of non-visible). Because this is life as well, the facts, as I said, are little to organize things.
The third element of this fable would be curiosity. It would reveal what drives us to action, the search for meaning in things that seem absurd. Although it is essential to the stories, here the past is ahead.
So this plot would not be something to draw attention to, but about the choice of questions, when facts passed in front of your eyes may not be seen.
I want to be the first modern to value analytical intuition, in this new world in which scientific observation rots between creams, machines, and armies. As already stated, the cryptic questions about the siren song and what name Achilles had while hidden among the princesses are beyond all conjecture. "

Afonso Jr. Ferreira de Lima
2017
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2017/02/memorias-de-paris.html

A small difference (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

"To begin our analysis," said the director of the investigation department, "I would like to make it clear that the case involves an Asian republic that no country in the world wants to see destabilized. Any leaking of information would put world leaders in a panic.
"I understand, sir, you can count on my discretion," said Momai.
"Mr. Moon is here to follow up the investigation." The fact is that the powerful leader of this republic is in trouble with his eldest son, his likely successor, who has proved to be an inconsequential playboy. Because of this, his brother, who studies at a renowned school in Switzerland, can become the new president. The boy has already been described as "effeminate" by his classmates. However ... A compromising photo, involving, it seems, a young woman, was left in the hands of a major Brazilian marchant Vera Klosto who has revealed Asian talents in the Western market. Since she did not demand ransom, we assume that she only wants to have a kind of "protection."

"Could you describe how she got the picture?" asked Momai.
- That's the most interesting part. The president had just received the photo of his spy service, they had stolen the photographer's camera. For safety, they had destroyed the machine and maintained a single impression. His father, however, stunned by the fact, was only able to turn the picture on the table when surprised by the entrance of the exuberant figure, with whom he had created some intimacy. It was accompanied by a European diplomat. He did not miss this cunning to understand the object on the table, which showed the child's name and the secret service symbol on the back. He happened to have a series of samples from the catalog of an exhibition that would be held in Venice and left them on the table. After a conversation of about fifteen minutes, he removed everything that was his and a little more and left without the president could say a word.
"The method bears a strange resemblance to Allan Poe's" The Stolen Letter, "said Momai.
"Yes," replied the director. "We suspect he is among the lady's belongings in his mansion, but the walls are covered with engravings and paintings - at the bottom of which one could, for instance, hide the object - and his collection of photographs contains more of 11 thousand items. We can not ask for a mandate. Two men have secretly entered the house in vain. We can put you in there for a few hours- she's giving a conference in Boston these days- and we hope you can help us.

- Of course! But first I need to go to a museum. I have to think like a dealer - Momai said - that's how intuitions come about. One more question: I imagine that the boy has been watched and accompanied all the time in Switzerland.
"Yes, he used a fake name, and he was the only kid from the college coming by car with a driver. An important diplomat was to accompany him. He is a tennis fanatic and always had many security guards.
- Strange: how can anyone take this picture? Momai asked standing up.

Helio was waiting for him at the Pinacoteca's door.
"I hope your boyfriend forgives me for that one," Momai said.
They entered. A very colorful contemporary tapestry exhibition mixed wires, metal, and wood.
"I've been going back to Poe's tales, just to feel prepared," Helio said as they sat down in the sculpture room. I found in this other tale, "The Mystery of Marie Roget," something that struck me as interesting. Mind if I read? 
Momai nodded.
"For in the last part of the supposition one should consider that the slightest variation in the facts of the two cases could give rise to the most serious errors of calculation, courses of events, as so often happens in arithmetic, in which an invaluable error, if taken individually, ultimately produces, by virtue of multiplication at every point of the operation, a result far removed from the true. "

- Interesting. Dupin's method is to start from the surfaces, as in a card game, the variations of expression, the physiognomy of the players, the way they classify the cards in the hand - to reach the true state of the game. I prefer intuitive insight to induction. Our friend offers us a feast of sensations and data to analyze ... But things never repeat themselves. If we start by assuming that the exhibition hides and does not show and not that the exhibition distracts ...

"I'm not following, Momai.

"Oh, it sometimes seems to me that when I'm thinking about a case, nature all thinks to me.
"Jung says he does not know where the unconscious begins and ends," Helio said.

"On that note, I remember seeing the same excerpt from the tale used in a book on chaotic and complex systems. Poe prophetically expressed an idea today very important in the study of these systems. I'm not good at math, but I think this article said that a strange attractor is a region for which future events in a system tend, even though these events have a lot of distance from each other. In addition, small initial variations lead to very distinct results in the future ... In this case ... From the surface to the truth of the structure, or the structure to the truth of the surface? The appearance is also structure ...

In the mansion, frame walls offered themselves for analysis.
- Where to start? Cubism or Tachism? The letter was very visible, so it was not seen, Helio said.
"Let's get a secret wall." The hardest. The attractor, not the event.
"The hardest would not it be safe in a bank?"
- Not for anyone who wants to be in the show/hide area, inside/outside, visible/invisible - Momai ran his hands over the walls. He saw an oval, gold-framed "vignette" canvas with a delicate bust of young woman merging with the black background.
- The equations are explicit and deterministic, but the result has a high degree of uncertainty ... Poe: the strange attractor.
He moved the painting and pushed the wall behind him. She turned. Helio looked stunned. An envelope was on a small table.

"She pretended to expose the object to confuse us," Helio said. By using such a clear reference as a method, it was actually directing our gaze to the "stained and crumpled" card in the "cardholder."
- Worse than that. Why would anyone print a photo for the official files? Are they accomplices? I suspect that what we have recovered is no more than a false compromising photo. Imagine the following situation: the father is informed by his espionage that certain behaviors of the son are noticed; asks the secret service to pretend to get a picture of the slightly embarrassing boy: for example, next to a girl with breasts on display along with a friend. The photo is left on the table when the dealer is noticed, properly identifiable. Who led to the "stolen letter" was the father.
- Clear! Somehow one speculates on the scandal, but not on the son's homosexuality! Show to hide ...
Helio picks up the envelope and opens it, but is prevented.
- A small change in the initial conditions leads to results that are far apart ...

Afonso Junior Ferreira de Lima 
2013

https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2013/02/uma-pequena-diferenca-para-inciarmos.html

After the end (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

She ran away from the security cameras with the trick of negative magnetism.
A storm. She had terrible dreams.

"I just wanted to know what existed before Zero." Why is "Silence is Progress"?

The boyfriend had made a sign of silence.
She was now working in the Liberation Department of non-aligned countries.
- I am afraid. I dreamed that I was judged for doing my joint work.
"I think you're hallucinating," said her boyfriend.

The image of a board in which risks seemed some form of communication did not leave her mind. She decided to leave the forest with some food in her backpack. As a child, she had heard the legend of an old wise man, but he had fed on children.

A tower ran from furious dogs.
He wore a long beard and wore a robe of vegetable fiber. There was an amber stone around his neck.
- If the storm spared you ... I am the god of all the stories, I can tell you what I read in a manuscript of the historian of the year 900 that tells about a king of the year 700 that killed his most important scribe. They never succeeded with me. The memory.

She knew that her ancestors had chosen the Empire's protection against terrorism.

The fire, a hot drink, the black cake. The old man played a stringed instrument.
She cried for the first time.
"I was mayor of the city. Many refugees came because the water destroyed their homes. The fanatics began to speak in extermination, beat me up and made me walk naked on the street. But I survived. They were judged for performing their common work in an inverted world.
She said:
"There was never such a plebiscite for silence.
"They wanted to eliminate the history of the collective mind. Year Zero.

The man showed her a door. A light seemed to come through her.
When she returned, she wrote.

Afonso Jr. Lima
2019
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2019/05/depois-do-fim.html

Depois do fim

Fugiu das câmeras de segurança com o truque do magnetismo negativo.
Uma tempestade. Ela teve sonhos terríveis.

- Eu queria apenas saber o que existiu antes do Ano Zero. Por que "Silêncio é Progresso"?

O namorado havia feito um sinal de silêncio.
Ela trabalhava agora no Departamento de Libertação de países não alinhados.
- Eu estou com medo. Eu sonhei que fui julgada por realizar meu trabalho comum.
- Eu acho que você está tendo alucinações - disse o namorado.

A imagem de uma tábua na qual riscos pareciam alguma forma de comunicação não lhe saía da cabeça. Decidiu partir pela floresta com alguma comida na mochila. Quando criança, ouvira a lenda de um velho sábio, mas que se alimentava de crianças.

Uma torre, fugiu de cães furiosos.
Ele usava uma barba comprida e vestia um manto de fibra vegetal. Tinha uma pedra de âmbar no pescoço.
- Se a tempestade lhe poupou... Eu sou o deus de todas as histórias, eu posso lhe contar o que li em um manuscrito do historiador do ano 900 que conta sobre um rei do ano 700 que matou seu escriba mais importante. Nunca conseguiram comigo. A memória.

Ela sabia que seus antepassados haviam escolhido a proteção do Império contra o terrorismo.

O fogo, uma bebida quente, o bolo negro. O velho tocou um instrumento de cordas.
Ela chorou pela primeira vez.
- Eu era prefeito da cidade. Muitos refugiados vieram por que a água destruiu suas casas. Os fanáticos começaram a falar em extermínio, me espancaram e fizeram-me andar nu pela rua. Mas eu sobrevivi. Eles foram julgados por realizar seu trabalho comum num mundo invertido.
Ela disse:
- Nunca houve o tal plebiscito pelo silêncio.
- Eles queriam eliminar a historia da mente coletiva. Ano Zero.

O homem lhe mostrou uma porta. Uma luz parecia sair através dela.
Quando retornou, ela escreveu.

Afonso Jr. Lima

The ghost in the machine (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

"Sorry for the delay," Helio said. Rain and flood.
"Why did you summon us, Momai?" Not alone? The elegant woman, looking twenty years old, said from her couch.
"Stop irritating him, Persephone. He will never fall in love with you. Even though she's the only woman who can ever seem like a teenager, "answered a fat, mustached man in a cap, polo shirt, tweed coat, and sneakers.
"Of course, Dr. Orlando. He's only attracted to vulgar women, "she said. And we know of some college stories ...
"He does not know what sex is for a long time," said a man sitting in his chair, tall and thin, very well dressed, with disheveled black hair, resting his mechanical leg on a puff.
"Children, children," the lady with white hair and violet eyes lit a tray of cakes on the table. "Let's get to the point. A famous scientist and professor. The death occurred by asphyxiation. A severe bruise on the head, lying on the table. A burnt paper in the ashtray and an open gift box. The room, locked inside; the mother and the daughter, who lived with him, say they have never noticed such an attitude. A very tall house. Nobody heard any shots.

"Let's remember the name Dyle or Byle, which he wrote with shaking hands on the cover of a book before his death, Albertine - Momai said. All the descriptions tell us of an unbreakable willpower. Some even speak of a fanatic person.
"In the first place," said the tall man, "you must ask who the people are.
"Bravo, Maravoglia," the beautiful woman said. "When I was summoned, I did my research. Professor Shin Lun is a friend, a specialist in cognitive psychology, known for the thesis that "there are no thoughts and emotions: there are neurons." Dr. Luiz Paiva, with a platonic tendency, studies the relationship between body and language, with the influence of anthropology and psychoanalysis. Dr. Lisa Pietrovna is a specialist in social psychology and group behavior. Lívia Kartz is the assistant professor, ambitious, who has been rising rapidly in the scientific world and was hired at the weight of gold, after a doctorate in Switzerland.

Helio was anxious. He did not like to feel one penetrating the Circle, where "brilliant minds" secretly discussed "impossible" crimes. Dr. Orlando realized.
"Our dear chief investigator ... For us, you can tell." Are you still writing detective novels?

He was taken by surprise and interpreted as irony:
"At least I'm not an old doctor without patients, who spends time with golf and psychic sessions.
The doctor gave a condescending smile and seemed to deviate from the subject:
"Sometimes I wonder, why do people like mysteries?" In part, perhaps for this very reason: to prove that reality still has gaps, shadows, is in process. In addition, a mystery maintains the intensity of the open mind, propitiates the creation of hypotheses, and encourages floating attention; creating is a pleasure for humans. All books are of mystery: what comes next, who are these people, what language will I still see?
- A pistol of compressed air! Of course! By the window ... I read this in a novel, I think ... "you said as you poured tea. He gets a box with something compromising, feels bad, goes to the window ... Maybe he was hit while still sitting. But not for a bullet, for a harmless object, even an ordinary rubber, but that would distract attention ... Would anyone look around when the corpse has a bruise? But in addition, a massive fragmentation bullet wound could make us immediately picture a sniper. Or maybe ... they wanted Momai!

- The box! The man tried to burn the compromising letter or photo, "says Momai. The paper was prepared with a highly toxic substance... Lívia Kartz was right in saying that the university environment was suffocating.
"An analysis of the ashes can confirm this," said the doctor.
- At a conference two years ago, he said: "People want consolation and believe in ghosts: including Dr. Paiva. If I die, you already know the culprit" - recalled Helio.

"But the question is why," said Penelope, taking the violin.
Malavoglia said:
- Mr. Ryle was a professor of Philosophy at Oxford and author of the expression "ghost in the machine", to criticize the Cartesian dualism. Descartes had argued for the existence of a "mental" substance opposed to "material," either because he did not believe that the few pieces he identified as the brain were able to generate the combinations necessary for adaptive thinking, or to define the world as machine without a soul, and study it free from the Church.

"Yes," said Momai. "For Gilbert Ryle, you have to use Ockham's razor." "Do not use theories beyond what is necessary. It would be the various human activities that lead us to believe that there is a mental life.

Moreover, only science could reveal the truth about ourselves.
Momai jumped up from the sofa.

"I heard a lecture from our man on the internet. He asserted that our behavior and choices could be defined by the environment and genes. It seemed to defend a philosophical point of view that only what can be measured and observed is true. He announces a bombastic article in which he will definitively demolish all forms of dualism. It seemed to me that his defense that "humans are his brains" was a personal and political battle.
- Are you reversing the argument and saying there is no way to prove that "the mind" does not exist? It reminds me of recent work on consciousness as the emerging quality of a complex system, "the doctor said.
"When I talked to Dr. Paiva, he seemed to be concerned about his colleague's competitiveness," Helio said. He would have written her a dark letter, but it was gone. Others confirm enormous animosity between them. He swore to me that such a "bombastic article" would be in the drawer for being criticized harshly even before it was published. Shin Lun described to me a conversation in which he said he feared for his life.
"Dr. Lisa even talked about a" morbid dispute "between them," Momai added. "If you want to look crazy, you should go among the psychologists," she said.

"It seems that someone wants to avoid the demoralization of a theory." A fanatical dualist. Wanting to eliminate a materialist skeptic, Penelope said.
"Who would have killed a skeptic?" Momai paced the room. "In the murders of the" prophet psychopath, "a death, that of a student, was tied to Mandelson's thought -" private faith. " Another, that of a businesswoman, to Spinoza's view: "God is nature." He was talking about the secularization of the world and blaming it for "debauchery" and "savage capitalism." A "deviation" from a secret society. In the most recent case, I imagined that the deceased was part of this international organization.
- So here we would have a third "torn" of the team, ready to deny positivism with blood? said Lady Albertine. I say this because the secret society would expose itself too much by acting itself.
"She can afford it." Maybe it's a more powerful enemy. He wants the game. While someone may have convinced the professor that he would be in danger, "Dr. Orlando said.
Penelope dropped the violin:
"He received the letter he himself had written to Dr. Paiva - what a powerful network! - and that could create an embarrassment. It's insane, so probable. He himself was convinced of the clumsiness of his colleague. As the proverb says, "character is destiny."

"Let's look for signs of a sniper." In front of the house, there is an empty building. And find out who could have prepared the paper with the harmful substance. But I would find a very interesting solution to the unusual locking of the door. Thank you, friends. Until one day. Come on, Helio. We have work to do.
Momai and Helio left quickly. The rain continued.
"Did he come looking for us because he was insecure?" I worry about such a secret society, "Lady Albertine said. It's good to be attentive.
"Momai will never cease to look like a lost loser in an unhealthy and unfeasible city," said Malavoglia, lighting a pipe.

Afonso Jr. Ferreira de Lima
2013
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2013/02/o-fantasma-na-maquina-desculpem-o.html

The Hill Paintings (English version)

(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)

What is the origin of the Song of the Red Way? Imagine a group of hunter-gatherers who rest next to a ruin. It is a reddish column on the top of a hill in the middle of a dense forest. It was where the surviving animals reproduced. Images with animals made with coal dated 15 thousand years ago. Some recordings with flint tip on the rocks and remains of calcined wood. Suddenly, a child discovers a red band on the floor. The parents follow by her, a dog discovers underground caves. Painted animals. Figures showing large numbers of dead animals. Maybe a catastrophe. Do you decide to take shelter there? Traces of smoke on the ceiling show that possibly religious ceremonies were held in the artificial cave. 

The path was marked by a row of pointed stones. Close to the reddish column, a metal object abstractly representing the human form with an earlier date was placed on a kind of altar. The group of hunter-gatherers must have formed a village there, for several generations seem to have drawn coal on the walls of the tunnels. In the Song of the Red Path, a goddess brings the first seeds to humans and commands them to be planted around the spine. The goddess tells the story of war, the humans of the "old days" would have been decimated, and the gods would have condemned the beings to an ice age. All of them would have died, but two humans are resurrected. When language arises, the Song of the Red Path, which must have been sung for centuries, is transcribed. Unfortunately, the earliest versions of the song were probably made on the leather of Bovidae (extinct).

Afonso Jr. Ferreira de Lima
2015
https://afonsojunior.blogspot.com/2015/06/as-pinturas-da-colina.html