Olga and information in a Blog abandoned to the flies

This blog goes abandoned to the flies. Suddenly, it gave me feeling I having nothing to say to the world, not worthy subject to be discussed. Not that I've had no living in the meantime. Not so. I've been doing things: reading compulsively, buying books compulsively, thinking about unsolvable problems until you have vertigo, watching movies, like "Olga" ...

Oh, Olga deserves some comments.

She, the actress, is beautiful!

Talking Seriously, I think it is symptomatic the fact that a German woman has become a brazilian heroine. Why? Is missing native women with courage? Have we our own prejudices? I think sometimes that yes: another hero on the brazilian screens was Guevara, who just happens to be an argentinian. And let's be honest, Cazuza, a relatively famous brazilian singerman who died with AIDS, there was not no hero. An anti-hero, say, but not an example to follow, I think. Yes, we have Senna, that the Globo TV insists  want to do he is like a national hero, and people urges to swallow this bullshit. I think, in fact, it's just a matter of time before he leaves the screen, like Renato Russo, another supossed loved brazilian leader band who died with AIDS. But what about the heroes? Lacerda, a comunist? Maybe, I liked him ...

 

Speaking seriously about Lacerda, imagine that an avenue or a main square of modern Germany in Berlin was called Avenue, or Square, Adolf Hitler. What about that? A scandal, is not it? For Brazil, the stature of a dictator like Getúlio Vargas, one president, still arouses longing, fifty years after his suicide. Why? Insufficient heroes in politics? Or, Vargas was not actually a real dictator? Oh, every little town in Brazil has a square or avenue named "Getulio Vargas". Why? Oh, he was a man of vision and modernized the country. Sure, but China is also modernizing under the communist boot. I could bring progress wrapped in blood.

It's Enough. For those who had nothing to say, I already said too much ...

One thing more holding my attention: the explosion of knowledge. The biblical apocalypse predicted: "... and knowledge shall increase ..."

Adding this multiplication to the fact that there is not in fact true knowledge, but only propositions that the authors want us to accept as true, and we must resign ourselves to the work of filtering from the information explosion what really matters.

I think the explosion of knowledge may be a problem very soon. Our knowledge will destroy us like a biblical plague if they do not restrict ourselves to its potential effects.

But this explosion is a topic for another day.

For now, let me away the flies from that blog with the little words I have on hand.

Collateral

I just watched Collateral, with Tom Cruise. A movie that has nothing more, unless senseless violence and sadness. However, there is at least one deeply philosophical scene. The close death of people hatches, and we feel bad in front of a corpse. This past week I had the misfortune to see in person a corpse wrapped in a blanket on a street in the path between my house and my service. One man died of cardiac arrest at around nine in the morning, sweltering by the heat of Goiânia, Brazil, by the fat in the blood, the blood pressure, by age, by a set of factors. Nothing could be done and the body was there, in the street, when I go to the service. This is not common. Death is not pleasant. But Vincent, the assassin played by Tom Cruise, reminds the shocked taxi driver that in Rwanda thousands of people died in a very few days, a human massacre only surpassed in quantity and speed for the massacres of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but the taxi driver felt nothing against Rwandan catastrophe. Vincent also claims that we are nothing  in a meaningless cosmos, and that to kill or die means nothing,  pessimistic like Schopenhauer.

At the end of the movie, after watched the Beslan massacre,  there is impression that it's a sad time. Since September 11, exact three years we have witnessed massacres continuosly. New York, Washington, Pennsylvania, Madrid, Beslan, Moscow, Baghdad, Fallujah, Najaf, Stambul, Abu Grabi, Guantanamo, Tel Aviv, Gaza, just to name the most famous. In fact, we need not even refer to our cosmic insignificance to minimize the death of a single human being. Just take it in comparison to the atrocities that we are almost getting used to seeing every day in the international news.

We live in a new crusade? Maybe, but either way, we are going through difficult times.

And what about Brazil? I do not know which is worse: terrorism militancy with political and religious and even economic background, or cultural terrorism that silently plagues our country. In fact, this kind of terrorism makes me appalled and outraged that massacres of tens of innocent civilians. No, I am not indifferent to the death of anyone, but I am especially outraged by the culture massacre that are submitted, we, Brazilians, by the media of our poor country.

I felt that we are on a dangerous course when I watched for a few seconds, by chance, a "Gugu Liberato" tv show, one Sunday, seven in the evening, at the height of the weekly general audience, when millions of citizens from all social strata are glued to front of the TV. It is not difficult for someone who does not see the  open and free television programs to realize that what the media does, or tries to do with all of us is much more cruel than what they do in groups of suicide bombers fighting for their causes, whether are. I believe that is not Gugu himself  who is behind something so low, so horrifying, as the program that has the job of presenting. Brazilian television as a disservice to the nation that actually we, brazilians, do not need enemies, our own media is our enemy more powerful than any other form of threat, internal or external. Subtle, it condemns generations of millions of citizens to ignorance, pettiness, superficiality, banality on such a scale that does not surprise me to see Brazil go through a process of stupefaction of the population such that it will eventually lead the country to a state of barbarism in which we never in our entire history. We will be, or already are, a stupid country whose range of values ​​was turned upside down under a subtly brainwashed filed by a lot of Gugu and Faustão (Big Faust, a plumper and horrible guy, showmaker)  by "Big Brother" and "Artist' s Home", by ridiculous soap operas in afternoons and nights, by pornographic musical groups, the culture of malice and double entender, the apology of trickery, stuck in the queue and the bad check, the deification of Nelson Rodrigues, a pornographic writer, and its popular and cheap movies, therefore, a pseudo-culture of a country that has never produced anything has cultural value and timeless character globally recognized. Yes, we have culture, but not in quality and in sufficient quantity to make our people better citizens. And if the television as a means unquestionable technological efficiency, can not contribute, should not therefore harm. The ruling elite of Brazil and the media's  businessmen will prove the own poison. The monster that Gugu and Faustão feed one day will eventually eat all of the elite first, and yourself, then, in his eagerness to ignorance.

But ignorance is just a collateral effect in the search for one more point in television audience measurement.

Olympic ambitions

At the time of the Olympics, when we see the constant images of athletes receiving medals and laurel wreaths for their incredible victories, it is not uncommon to feel in ourselves a mix of emotions, starting with national pride, through the individual respect, empathy, envy and ending with sorrow and regret for not being ourselves the winners. We feel that someone who receives a medal is in truth a mere human being, although  an exceptional athlete, and feel that, like them, we had our windows of opportunity, but let it close. We know it's too late now, but then console ourselves. After all, how could it be otherwise? We are mortals and we have our lives to care. How could we have been Olympic athletes?

What is the role of ambition in this context? 

 Perhaps the ambition has no place in the spectrum of feelings of ordinary mortals like us, but, why not, if we envy the winners? If envy, why not be like them? The most common answer is that indeed, we are content with what we have. We are pleased with our small achievements and somehow, the ambition is a dangerous feeling. She can bring medals, but can also bring war, death, and it may be the cause of all misery in the world. Take any problem, personal or global, and ambition serves perfectly as a cause to take responsibility. We can not justify the misery of world hunger as a result of the greed of the rich countries who do not want to give up a small share of their wealth? And our difficulties of day-to-day? Of course, we always attribute our problems to the ambition of the boss, wife, husband, the government or the driver with a newer car.

But what we can achieve in life without a little healthy ambition? Pure and simple humility is the outright disgusting and undergrowth. Even animals are humble in  relative terms. No living thing had a intend to give up what nature bestowed upon them by right. No gazelle surrender meekly to a lion to be devoured. Everyone has the right to be ambitious. Maybe the evil of ambition is when we aspire to achieve our ambitions at the expense of others. From a social point of view, this is the best ambition: that allows us to win, but not prevent the next win as well.
Made this distinction, ambition is not at all a bad feeling. It is natural that is not socially encouraged in our country. A tradition of political and religious makes us, Brazilians people, more humble than ambitious (unlike our dear brothers from Argentina). In a way, the ambition goes against certain Christian religious principles. But this Christian reading of the ambition is nonsense. If we think that the founder of Christianity himself says God, then it is perhaps the most ambitious men, if not even a god. And if he asks us to be like him, so why not give space to our healthy ambitions?
The main question is: is it worth? In most cases, we will not receive any laurel wreath for our efforts, and the overwhelming majority of our investees, we fail, with no right, sometimes having as award only damages. But the few times that we are successful, then the effort will be compensated. At this time, we will be envied and admired, and respected, and be the pride of the nation. And we feel proud of ourselves, and we will be explosively happy, which is what matters most, in the end. As a accessory prize, humanity wins with this, because whenever we do great things, these things tend to be good things, and of which not only we, but all benefit.
So from where start? We have no basis whatsoever to assume that we will succeed, but some lessons our fellow Olympic athletes teach us.
First, that even a superatleta can at most be a pent-athlete, but a versatile athlete, a superatleta. I mean, it increases your chances of success when he decides to be an expert in running, or swimming, or basketball, but not all at the same time. Focus is what they teach.
Second, there is amateur athletes and professional athletes. And if we want to be a professional athlete, the work must be full time, not just on weekends, and not only when we want. Dedication is what they teach.
I wonder, because I have no ambition to shape other ideas or suggest other opinions: what my focus? When will I start to dedicate myself to it?
About laurels , I think them later ...

The lack and the excess of information

I have tried to focus on a productive activity, but I always have with me a slight feeling that no matter what I do, I'm in the wrong direction and wasting my time. I mean, not that I do not see a value in what I do, but looking at things from an existentialist perspective, everything is meaningless. No matter what I do, so I find myself doing some hard questions: Why am I doing this? Where will this lead? What's the point? What do I gain? And if it is an illusion?

Indeed, my problem is everyone's problem, although not everyone knows this problem: the death. Not that I'm afraid to die. I do not want exactly the opposite: to waste my life on something not worth it, but I just go find that it not worth when on my deathbed. This feeling of not knowing what is really worth in life has haunted me for years.

In "Epitáfio", the song of the Titãs, one brazilian rock'n'roll band, have a clear example of the embedded message behind this idea of urgency and alert. The lyrics are like the poem "Moments", apparently Nadine Stair. We should do certain things and not others, or rather, we should do more things and less others. But what guarantee do we in the end? No one. It's a beautiful letter, but don't serves as a foundation for leading a life.

Incidentally, this is the subject of this message: lack and excess of information. We lack information to guide us, and this precisely because we have an oversupply of information. We have the self-help books, and we have religions, and philosophy, and psychology, and we have gurus, and we still have a million other sources of information bombarding us with compelling messages. Do this and be happy, do it and be rich. Leave to do A to do B. Forget C. How to separate the wheat from the chaff? And who ensures that there is wheat in the midst of so much chaff?

We could afford to test these requirements. Practice is the best proof. But life is too short for testing. And at the end of a test that can take a lifetime, we find that the trick does not work? Too late, you missed ...

Doubt has immobilize me. I have to start something, but I arrest myself in a logical vicious circle wich not allow me to leave it. How to get out of a wheel of rats? Where to start a circle? I'm stuck with my own intellectual limitations. I'm not smart or wise enough to find a way out. Meanwhile, time passes ...

Decipher me or I will devour you!

Memory and popcorn

I've been looking around on old ideas that I have also written down in my also old agenda. Things on the excess of knowledge, about algorithms and on axiomatic theories and object orientation. All because I do not think a way to sort my ideas. I am a perfectionist. I do not like taking risks. I thirst for knowledge. Anyway, I had a dream last night that is so crazy, forced me to get out of bed. Once I realized I had finished dreaming, I took pen and paper and wrote down everything that I was able to remind myself: I needed to register the crazy dream not to lose it. It was better than the best films. And so I spent more time writing about dreaming the dream itself, and as I wrote in my old diary, she finally, after five and a half long years, sold out in its ability to record things. She Is complete from beginning to end. She begins with ecological promises and ends with a hallucinatory dream. Very well.

But my memories are not only in this agenda. Days ago, I felt curious to reread a lot of letters I have saved as souvenirs, letters written by me and my family and friends, letters exchanged between the years 1987 and 1995 and who were forgotten in a corner. I put them in chronological order and read one by one. What a surprise! I was impressed with the amount of detail you'd forgotten about how my life was, and indeed still is, rich in experiences, but remembered well, without much effort, it seems obscure and uninteresting. No, I did not have a so boring life, I now realize, because of those old letters.

Happy for my past, I now realize a good use for blogs. They now seem boring and I do not get many visitors, but in ten years will be very happy revisiting it, reading the same things that I will have written ten years ago and not remember more, and I feel grateful to have it done . The fact of receiving a visit is a mere side won.

Of course, not everything is lost forever in our weak memories. Today I had a proof. Without help of a calendar, a diary, letters or a blog, I was able to remember something that surprised me: I made a bag of popcorn in the microwave and then putting them in a plastic bowl, I added salt as usual, but the salt was next to a glass of red pepper sauce. Bingo! Remembrance rescued. Yes, I remembered that as a child and lived in the sleepy village of Tujuguaba,  in the State of São Paulo, we, citizens, used to go on Saturdays and Sundays to the church of St. Anthony, the only Catholic church of the place. A simple little church surrounded by a nice little park with  nice benches, where children played and adults walking. Next to the stairs that gave access to the garden, a popcorn vendor usually appeared. It was Pigeon, the popcorn seller, a thin and quiet man that lived near the church, and took the opportunity to earn a few bucks. There, we ate our popcorn with salt and pepper sauce, and remember now, it was good! I moved from Tujuguaba when I was 14 years old. I spent twenty years without remember in popcorn with chili, and even less in Pigeon. What is the advantage of it? I do not know, but I was happy to remind me of my childhood, popcorn with chili, and that's enough.

We can not misprise these little moments. We are what we remember who we are.

Ecological Thought

In the first text posted on this blog, I mentioned an agenda that I have used since 1999. It is a paper agenda, plain, with a picture of small fishes printed in a hardcover common leaves tied in a spiral of wire. I bought it to write foolishness. It's called Ecoagenda 1999.

Well, early, at the beginning, on the first pages, there is a space to write down or we plan our 'ecological attitudes in 1999.' Once I started using this agenda, I noted five items, five future attitudes, five small projects designed so immediately. Nothing too elaborate. Just simple things that any mortal can do without much effort.

After almost six years, I look at the short list and come to several conclusions rather curious.

However, the first conclusion I reach reading the short list of five promises is that of the five attitudes that planned to adopt in 1999, I really ended up coming to adopt over that time virtually all of them. If not all are being used in its most perfect form, at least in part they are. These small actions taken mean that people change, albeit slowly and unevenly, over the years. I've changed! My first item on the list was 'stop smoking'. And I stopped it, five years ago. I know that there is little relationship between ecology and smoking, but the fact is that I concretized what I set out to accomplish. Have changed provokes a sense of hope in the future, since our present today in part is better than our past, in what we had for him undesirable. If in the past we change for the better, we can continue changing and hope a little better future than today in what we actually do not want.

But not only. I came to interesting conclusions about the process of ecological awareness, or ecological marketing, as well as irreversibly the ecological mentality has penetrated the minds of all people, and how this mentality is partly correct, but partly not. However, these conclusions are too long to discuss in a simple blog. In so far as to put them in writing, and I will put them, I'll be releasing them on my personal website http://rosenvaldo.simoes.sites.uol.com.br/ (for now, only in Portuguese).

For now again, we get the conclusion, simple, but true, that we can change, and we change. Only the time scale of our personal changes is that it is too slow to realize that and we can congratulate ourselves for them.

greetings to our changes for the better!