Mohamed Nasheed is the democratically elected president of the paradise archipel of the Maldives. We never hear about him because he is simply not among the shark-masters of the world who make the big decisions. He’s a small fish and therefore never shows up on the aquarium where we watch our evening news.
But this week he made some headlines when he held an underwater meeting with his cabinet calling attention to the dangers that climate change poses for his island and how the issue is directly connected to human rights.“We want to live and please understand that” he said in an interview that you can watch on the 19th October’s edition of democracynow.org. Smart and funny he claimed to be an optimist in regards to US climate policy: “Odds are against us many times but we feel that people CAN’T be that stupid”. And he confessed: “Politicians would never do anything unless it has some links to votes … you know I’m one of them …”
Yeah, we already knew that … which is why optimism when it cames to climate change policies is looking more and more like naivity. I’m sorry Mr. Nasheed but people CAN be that stupid.
I pay my homage to the Maldives by posting here two works by local artist Ahmed Naseer. Above islanders glass world and below repression, emblematic of the archipel’s recent history where a dictatorship preceded President Nasheed’s rule for decades. Two paintings resulting from a history that, like the future, reflects the stupidity of the shark-people.
Mohamed Nasheed é o presidente democraticamente eleito do arquipélago paradisiaco das Maldivas. Nunca ouvimos falar nele, porque simplesmente ele não é um dos senhores tubarões que governam o mundo e tomam as grandes decisões. Ele é apenas um peixinho e por isso nunca aparece no aquário onde vemos o jornal da noite.
Mas esta semana ele apareceu quando convocou uma reunião com seu gabinete debaixo de água, chamando a atenção para os perigos que o aquecimento global provoca nas suas ilhas e como o tema está diretamente ligado aos direitos humanos. “Queremos viver, por favor entendam isso” disse numa entrevista que podem ver na edição de 19 de outubro de democracynow.org. Inteligente, engraçado afirmou ser um otimista no que diz respeito ás politicas climáticas dos Estados Unidos: “As chances estão muitas vezes contra nós mas sentimos que as pessoas não podem ser TÃO estúpidas”. E confessou: “Os politicos nunca fazem nada que não esteja relacionado com ganhar votos … eu sei, eu sou um deles …”
Pois, nós também já sabiamos … por isso o otimismo, quando toca a assuntos de mudanças climáticas, se parece demasiado com ingenuidade. Lamento Sr. Nasheed mas as pessoas podem sim ser assim TÃO estúpidas.
Presto a minha homenagem ao arquipélago das Maldivas, postando aqui dois trabalhos do artista local Ahmed Naseer. Acima o mundo de vidro do povo das ilhas e embaixo repressão, emblemáticos da historia recente do arquipélago onde uma ditadura precedeu o governo do Presidente Nasheed durante décadas. Dois trabalhos que resultam de uma historia que, como o futuro, reflete a estupidez dos homens-tubarão.
Bronx, 1979, the Sugarhill Gang from Sugarhill records shake things up with Rapper’s Delight. From the streets of New York to the world, below the oldie that changed the music scene. And with lyrics!
Bronx, 1979, os Sugarhill Gang da Sugarhill records agitam a batida com o seu Rapper’s Delight. Das ruas de Nova Iorque para o mundo, segue o video que mudou a cena musical. E com a letra!
i said a hip hop the hippie the hippie
to the hip hip hop, a you dont stop
the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie
to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat
now what you hear is not a test–i’m rappin to the beat
and me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your feet
see i am wonder mike and i like to say hello
to the black, to the white, the red, and the brown, the purple and yellow
but first i gotta bang bang the boogie to the boogie
say up jump the boogie to the bang bang boogie
let’s rock, you dont stop
rock the riddle that will make your body rock
well so far youve heard my voice but i brought two friends along
and next on the mike is my man hank
come on, hank, sing that song
well, im imp the dimp the ladies pimp
the women fight for my delight
but im the grandmaster with the three mcs
that shock the house for the young ladies
and when you come inside, into the front
you do the freak, spank, and do the bump
and when the sucker mcs try to prove a point
we’re treacherous trio, we’re the serious joint
a from sun to sun and from day to day
i sit down and write a brand new rhyme
because they say that miracles never cease
i’ve created a devastating masterpiece
i’m gonna rock the mike til you cant resist
everybody, i say it goes like this
well i was comin home late one dark afternoon
a reporter stopped me for a interview
she said she’s heard stories and she’s heard fables
that i’m vicious on the mike and the turntables
this young reporter i did adore
so i rocked a vicious rhyme like i never did before
she said damn fly guy im in love with you
the casanova legend must have been true
i said by the way baby what’s your name
said i go by the name of lois lane
and you could be my boyfiend you surely can
just let me quit my boyfriend called superman
i said he’s a fairy i do suppoose
flyin through the air in pantyhose
he may be very sexy or even cute
but he looks like a sucker in a blue and red suit
i said you need a man who’s got finesse
and his whole name across his chest
he may be able to fly all through the night
but can he rock a party til the early light
he cant satisfy you with his little worm
but i can bust you out with my super sperm
i go do it, i go do it, i go do it, do it , do it
an i’m here an i’m there i’m big bang hank, im everywhere
just throw your hands up in the air
and party hardy like you just dont care
let’s do it dont stop yall a tick a tock yall you dont stop
go hotel motel what you gonna do today(say what)
im gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spank drive off in a def oj
everybody go hotel motel holiday inn
you say if your girl starts actin up then you take her friend
i say skip, dive, what can i say
i cant fit em all inside my oj
so i just take half and bust them out
i give the rest to master gee so he could shock the house
i said m-a-s, t-e-r, a g with a double e
i said i go by the unforgettable name
of the man they call the master gee
well, my name is known all over the world
by all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls
i’m goin down in history
as the baddest rapper there could ever be
now i’m feelin the highs and ya feelin the lows
the beat starts gettin into your toes
ya start poppin ya fingers and stompin your feet
and movin your body while youre sittin in your seat
and the damn ya start doin the freak
i said damn, right outta your seat
then ya throw your hands high in the air
ya rockin to the rhythm, shake your derriere
ya rockin to the beat without a care
with the sureshot m.c.s for the affair
now, im not as tall as the rest of the gang
but i rap to the beat just the same
i dot a little face and a pair of brown eyes
all im here to do ladies is hypnotize
singin on n n on n on n on
the beat dont stop until the break of dawn
singin on n n on n on on n on
like a hot buttered a pop da pop da pop dibbie dibbie
pop da pop pop ya dont dare stop
come alive yall gimme what ya got
i guess by now you can take a hunch
and find that i am the baby of the bunch
‘but that’s okay i still keep in stride
cause all i’m here to do is just wiggle your behind
singin on n n on n on n on
the beat dont stop until the break of dawn
singin on n n on n on on n on
rock rock yall throw it on the floor
im gonna freak ya here im gonna feak ya there
im gonna move you outta this atmosphere
cause im one of a kind and ill shock your mind
ill put t-t-tickets in your behind
i said 1-2-3-4, come on girls get on the floor
a-come alive, yall a-gimme what ya got
cause im guaranteed to make you rock
i said 1-2-3-4 tell me wonder mike what are you waitin for?
i said a hip hop the hippie to the hippie
the hip hip hop, a you dont stop
the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie
to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat
skiddlee beebop a we rock a scoobie doo
and guess what america we love you
cause ya rock and ya roll with so much soul
you could rock till you’re a hundred and one years old
i dont mean to brag i dont mean to boast
but we like hot butter on our breakfast toast
rock it up baby bubbah
baby bubbah to the boogie da bang bang da boogie
to the beat beat, its so unique
come on everybody and dance to the beat
have you ever went over a friends house to eat
and the food just aint no good
i mean the macaroni’s soggy the peas are mushed
and the chicken tastes like wood
so you try to play it off like you think you can
by sayin that youre full
and then your friend says momma he’s just being polite
he aint finished uh uh that’s bull
so your heart starts pumpin and you think of a lie
and you say that you already ate
and your friend says man there’s plenty of food
so you pile some more on your plate
while the stinky foods steamin your mind starts to dreamin
of the moment that it’s time to leave
and then you look at your plate and your chickens slowly rottin
into something that looks like cheese
oh so you say that’s it i got to leave this place
i dont care what these people think
im just sittin here makin myself nauseous
with this ugly food that stinks
so you bust out the door while its still closed
still sick from the food you ate
and then you run to the store for quick relief
from a bottle of kaopectate
and then you call your friend two weeks later
to see how he has been
and he says i understand about the food
baby bubbah but we’re still friends
with a hip hop the hippie to the hippie
the hip hip a hop a you dont stop the rockin
to the bang bang boogie
say up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie the beat
Today I was visibly forced to think about art in action once more. This time using a rather unusual brush …
The Australian painter Tim Pratch, known as Pricasso is coming to the Erotika Fair in São Paulo http://www.erotikafair.com.br/V2/index.html, which will take place from the 9th to the 12th of October. Advertised as an international attraction at the event’s website, Pricasso paints portraits in 20 minutes at parties and bars, with hiiiiiiiis? … yes you guessed it… ‘PRIC’!
After watching the video below, I couldn’t decide whether I’d like a portrait of me, painted with this prictechnique, hanging in my living room…
So I checked the man’s website: http://www.pricasso.com/ and I found that from Mugabe to Bush, the pric has done them all. Curiously, I noticed that you never really get to see the pric, the brush, the artist tool. Check the videos on his website and you’ll see that to find the pric in Pricasso is harder than to find Waldo.
Until I see that pric in action, I’m not adding Pricasso to my favorites. But I would hang that portrait on the wall. Pric or no pric, the man is an artist.
Hoje fui visualmente forçada a pensar de novo sobre arte em ação. Particularmente no uso de um curioso pinçel…
O pintor australiano Tim Pratch, conhecido como Pricasso, vai participar da Erotika Fair em São Paulo http://www.erotikafair.com.br/V2/index.html, que decorrerá de 9 a 12 de outubro. Publicitado como atração internacional no website do evento, Pricasso pinta retratos em 20 minutos em festas, bares, etc., com a suuuuuuuuaaaa? … adivinharam … ‘PRICA’!
Após ver o video abaixo, eu não conseguia decidir se gostaria de ter o meu retrato, pintado com esta pricatécnica, pendurado na minha sala … falo da pintura e não da prica claro…
Fui ver o website do artista: http://www.pricasso.com/. De Mugabe a Bush, a prica pincelou todos. Curiosamente, notei que esta prica, este pincel, esta ferramenta do artista, nunca realmente aparece na cena. Vejam os vídeos no website de Pricasso e digam lá se encontrar a prica em pricasso é ou não é mais dificil que encontrar Wally.
Até eu ver essa prica em ação não ponho Pricasso nos meus favoritos. Mas penduraria aquele meu retrato na parede. Com prica ou sem prica, o homem é um artista.
We can’t protest any longer. We run the risk of being tear gased, beaten with batons, rubber bullets and other modern robot cop accoutrements to keep their ‘order’, such as the innovative sound cannon. 10 years after Seattle anti-capitalists got smashed again. This time in Pittsburgh. And Obama even said that if those who protest ‘payed’ attention to what was happening at the Great20 idiots conference – of which he is a member – they would know that it was being decided how to make the market work for ‘ordinary people’…
Is that us? Well, we know that we are ‘ordinary’, normal, and they are the Great20 retarded idiots. In fact, that is precisely why we don’t want them to take over the world. Obama, we know how the market works for ‘ordinary people’. The problem is we don’t like it. Now, if you, Obama, had payed attention to what was happening on the streets you would know that.
He knows it of course, but since after all his color is not that of the back flags marching on the street, he couldn’t care less. That’s why the ‘Great democrat’ didn’t stop the police from attacking people. He could have. Or isn’t he supposedly the most powerful man in the world?
This is what democracy looks like … a police state a la Orwell’s Big Brother.
Já não se pode protestar. Corre-se o risco de apanhar com gás lacrimogêneo, bastões na cabeça, balas de borracha e outros apetrechos modernos para manter o pessoal ‘na ordem’, tais como o inovador canhão de som. 10 anos após Seattle os anti-capitalistas voltaram a apanhar na cabeça. Desta vez em Pittsburgh. E o Obama ainda veio dizer que se quem protesta ‘prestasse atenção’ ao que estava acontecendo na conferência dos Grandes20 idiotas – dos quais ele faz parte – saberia que se estava decidindo como fazer o mercado funcionar para ‘as pessoas normais’…
Isso de normal é com a gente? Bom que a gente é normal, e os Grandes20 são idiotas retardados, já sabiamos. Por isso mesmo é que não queremos que eles tomem conta do mundo. Obama, a gente já viu como é que funciona o mercado para ‘as pessoas normais’. O problema é que a gente não gostou. E se tu tivesses ‘prestado atenção’ ao que estava acontecendo nas ruas, saberias isso.
Ele sabe claro, mas como a cor dele afinal não é igual à bandeiras negras que marcharam nas ruas, ele não quer saber. E foi por isso que o ‘Grande democrata’ não impediu a policia de partir para a porrada. Apesar de poder. Ou não é ele supostamente o homem mais poderoso do mundo?
Isto é que é a democracia…um estado policial a la Orwell ‘Big Brother’.
5 years ago, a group of friends stopped at a cross street in Belo Horizonte, Brazil, to pick up a CD from a friend, a car-washer who worked in the area. In it, were some of their favorite old tunes, when soul music came to be incorporated in Brazilian black culture as another symbol of afro-brazilian identity. They decided to test the CD, blasting the sound from their car. And then, nostalgic of the old days, their feet started getting nervous and they fully went back to black. More and more people joined the frantic dance and the ocasion became a weekly event in the city. An event were the brazilian veterans of black music reclaim the streets and spend their saturday afternoons expressing their love for the black soul.
I went there this saturday. As I turned the corner of São Paulo and Goitacazes, I was engulfed by a multitude of James Brown’s alikes. I felt I had time travelled to harlem 4 decades ago, to the scene of black music where a man always manages to keep his hat on through all his turns and twists to the beat.
Every saturday, the event attracts dozens and it has even been subject to a doctoral thesis. Below, a short video of Belo Horizonte’s Soul Quarter. Just to give you an idea.
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Fez 5 anos que um grupo de amigos parou num cruzamento em Belo Horizonte, Brasil, para pegar um CD de um outro amigo que trabalhava na area lavando carros. No CD estavam algumas das suas velhas musicas favoritas, quando a soul music foi incorporada na cultura negra brasileira como mais um símbolo de identidade afro-brasileira. Decidiram testar o CD ali mesmo, abrindo a traseira do carro e explodindo o som para a rua. E depois, bateu aquela saudade, os pés ficaram agitados e eles voltaram ao passado. O povo juntou-se a eles e a ocasião tornou-se em mais um dos eventos semanais da cidade. Um evento onde os veteranos brasileiros da black music dão show, resgatando a rua e tornando suas tardes de sabado numa expressão de amor pela alma negra.
Passei lá este sábado. Assim que virei a esquina da rua de São Paulo com a Goitacazes, vi-me rodeada de uma multidão de James Browns. Parecia que tinha viajado no tempo para um Harlem de há 4 décadas, para a cena da música negra onde um homem jamais perde o seu chapéu nas voltas da batida.
Todos os sábados, o evento atrai dezenas de pessoas e já foi até matéria de tese de doutorado. Abaixo um pequeno video do quarteirão do soul em Belo Horizonte. Só para terem uma ideia.
