"It seemed like there were a lot of scores and a lot of waves all round. It is going off so you want those kind of heats. This is what you want for a contest, overhead, off-shore and just really fun."
Gabe Kling (Florida,USA) 31, best score, two-wave combined total of 18.47
Naquele que foi, provavelmente, o mais importante dia na história do surf açoriano e, também, na história do surf nacional. Independemente do que se venha a passar a seguir. Hoje foi épico.
quarta-feira, 28 de setembro de 2011
segunda-feira, 26 de setembro de 2011
terça-feira, 13 de setembro de 2011
a Europa no limiar do precipício
no meio da tempestade perfeita um alto responsável da Comissão Europeia apela à humilhação pública dos estados membros que cometam traquinices económicas. É o princípio do fim, a Europa olha para o precipício e parece embriagada com a vertigem, basta um dedo e ploft!… era bom que alguém fizesse alguma coisa.
sexta-feira, 2 de setembro de 2011
do incomparável
No seu primeiro grande momento de iliteracia (para não lhe chamar outra coisa) Pedro Passos Coelho, algures entre cimeiras europeias, comparou a queda de Tripoli com o 25 de Abril. “O fim do regime de Muammar Kadhafi na Líbia foi «uma espécie de 25 de Abril», afirmou esta quinta-feira em Paris o primeiro-ministro português”. Temos um primeiro-ministro que não conhece a história do seu país e os intelectuais, bem pensantes e instruídos, da nação, que zurziram na licenciatura de José Sócrates, não se comovem. Que falta que faz um Antero de Quental nestas alturas…
terça-feira, 30 de agosto de 2011
sobre eleições
ou muito me engano, ou estas declarações - "O ministro dos Assuntos Parlamentares anunciou ainda que as emissões da RTP Madeira e da RTP Açores vão ser reduzidas para quatro horas por dia, das 19:00 às 23:00." - do ministro/ex-secretário-geral do PPD/PSD Miguel Relvas acabaram de dar a vitória ao PS nas próximas eleições regionais...
a seguir com atenção!
a seguir com atenção!
quarta-feira, 1 de junho de 2011
"Take This Waltz"
Now in Vienna there's ten pretty women There's a shoulder where Death comes to cry
There's a lobby with nine hundred windows
There's a tree where the doves go to die
There's a piece that was torn from the morning
And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws
Oh I want you, I want you, I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine
In the cave at the tip of the lily
In some hallways where love's never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your hand
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and Death
Dragging its tail in the sea
There's a concert hall in Vienna
Where your mouth had a thousand reviews
There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking
They've been sentenced to death by the blues
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz it's been dying for years
There's an attic where children are playing
Where I've got to lie down with you soon
In a dream of Hungarian lanterns
In the mist of some sweet afternoon
And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow
All your sheep and your lilies of snow
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
With its "I'll never forget you, you know!"
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz ...
And I'll dance with you in Vienna
I'll be wearing a river's disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,
My mouth on the dew of your thighs
And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook,
With the photographs there, and the moss
And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty
My cheap violin and my cross
And you'll carry me down on your dancing
To the pools that you lift on your wrist
Oh my love, Oh my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz
It's yours now. It's all that there is
Leonard Cohen, prémio Príncipe das Asturias
There's a lobby with nine hundred windows
There's a tree where the doves go to die
There's a piece that was torn from the morning
And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws
Oh I want you, I want you, I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine
In the cave at the tip of the lily
In some hallways where love's never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your hand
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and Death
Dragging its tail in the sea
There's a concert hall in Vienna
Where your mouth had a thousand reviews
There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking
They've been sentenced to death by the blues
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz it's been dying for years
There's an attic where children are playing
Where I've got to lie down with you soon
In a dream of Hungarian lanterns
In the mist of some sweet afternoon
And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow
All your sheep and your lilies of snow
Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
With its "I'll never forget you, you know!"
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz ...
And I'll dance with you in Vienna
I'll be wearing a river's disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,
My mouth on the dew of your thighs
And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook,
With the photographs there, and the moss
And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty
My cheap violin and my cross
And you'll carry me down on your dancing
To the pools that you lift on your wrist
Oh my love, Oh my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz
It's yours now. It's all that there is
Leonard Cohen, prémio Príncipe das Asturias
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