terça-feira, 7 de fevereiro de 2023
Meditações - All their clocks: wrong
Pluto Shits on the Universe
On February 7, 1979, Pluto crossed over Neptune’s orbit and
became the eighth planet from the sun for twenty years. A study in 1988
determined that Pluto’s path of orbit could never be accurately predicted.
Labeled as “chaotic,” Pluto was later discredited from planet status in 2006.
Today, I broke your solar system. Oops.
My bad. Your graph said I was supposed
to make a nice little loop around the sun.
Naw.
I chaos like a motherfucker. Ain’t no one can
chart me. All the other planets, they think
I’m annoying. They think I’m an escaped
moon, running free.
Fuck your moon. Fuck your solar system.
Fuck your time. Your year? Your year ain’t
shit but a day to me. I could spend your
whole year turning the winds in my bed. Thinking
about rings and how Jupiter should just pussy
on up and marry me by now. Your day?
That’s an asswipe. A sniffle. Your whole day
is barely the start of my sunset.
My name means hell, bitch. I am hell, bitch. All the cold
you have yet to feel. Chaos like a motherfucker.
And you tried to order me. Called me ninth.
Somewhere in the mess of graphs and math and compass
you tried to make me follow rules. Rules? Fuck your
rules. Neptune, that bitch slow. And I deserve all the sun
I can get, and all the blue-gold sky I want around me.
It is February 7th, 1979 and my skin is more
copper than any sky will ever be. More metal.
Neptune is bitch-sobbing in my rearview,
and I got my running shoes on and all this sky that’s all
mine.
Fuck your order. Fuck your time. I realigned the cosmos.
I chaosed all the hell you have yet to feel. Now all your
kids
in the classrooms, they confused. All their clocks:
wrong. They don’t even know what the fuck to do.
They gotta memorize new songs and shit. And the other
planets, I fucked their orbits. I shook the sky. Chaos like
a motherfucker.
It is February 7th, 1979. The sky is blue-gold:
the freedom of possibility.
Today, I broke your solar system. Oops. My bad.
Fatimah Ashgar
segunda-feira, 6 de fevereiro de 2023
Há 200 anos - em 1823, abre-se subscrição pública para um relógio público em Silves
A Camara Constitucional querendo ainda que a memoria de um tão plausível e satisfactorio dia, ficasse permanente èm algum monum ento que o recordasse aos vindouros: resolveo que a predicta Traça se denominasse para o futuro Praça da Constituição, e convido u/seas compatriotas a uma subsevipção voluntaria, que abrió lio mesmo d ia, para conclusão da obra"de um relogio publico, que á .m uito.se achava com eçada,. e de que tanto carece esta Cidade para melhor regularidade de todos os trabalhos, tanto públicos como particulares., tendo muito prazer em ver que ella nesse mesmo dia produzio 240.000 réis,
in Diário do Governo, n.º 32, de 06/02/1823 (arquivo Fernando Correia de Oliveira)
in Diário do Governo, n.º 32, de 06/02/1823 (arquivo Fernando Correia de Oliveira)
Meditações - o tempo como um rio
Se eu definisse o tempo como um rio,
a comparação levar-me-ia a tirar-te
de dentro da sua água, e a inventar-te
uma casa.
Nuno Júdice
domingo, 5 de fevereiro de 2023
Meditações - no clocks or television sets marked the time
For Clifford Bernel
Lonnie didn’t want to eat with Clifford.
I tried to keep my eyes away from his mouth,
Which opened uncontrollably,
His thick saliva oozing over him.
And he couldn’t talk.
So I ate my lunch with Lonnie, heard him talk
About the dive which broke his neck, about
His motorcycle shop in Chico, while
Another nurse gave Clifford lunch.
Every day
His parents came to push his chair around
The grounds. A grim, determined pair;
I wondered what disasters they had seen.
The nurses talked with them about
Their son. His eyes are beautiful, they said.
One day a nurse who put her stethoscope
To Clifford’s chest could not detect a beat.
“His heart has stopped,” she said in quiet awe.
The P.A. speakers cried:
CODE BLUE, C-2, STAT! CODE BLUE, C-2, STAT!
The doctors, nurses and technicians ran
Into our crowded room. The squeaking
Crash cart could not be heard above
The urgent, human sounds the doctors made:
A swirl of orders filled the air. “I need
The mallet quick, goddamnit, QUICK, I said!”
Encapsulated in my iron lung,
I noted that doctors weren’t the calm
Professionals portrayed by Robert Young
And Richard Chamberlain, but people just
As scared of death as everybody else.
Then, they took me, iron lung and all,
And parked me in a room
Where women patients spend their lives.
The room was quiet as a stone; no clocks
Or television sets marked the time,
Which passed as slowly as Moses climbing Mount Sinai,
Until the social worker, Mrs. Mintzer,
Came to talk to me about Shakespeare. All his tragedies,
She said, contain a point where things begin
To fall apart. The bold protagonist,
No matter what his cunning, skill or strength,
Can see his fall foreshadowed by a small
Event. Macbeth saw Banquo at the feast
And after that it went from bad to worse
Until the murd’rous thane became a corpse
Without a head. She paused to think a while.
Now Clifford led a fairly normal life,
She pointed out, despite his cerebral palsy.
Playing cards and camping with his family
Were not beyond his reach.
The point where things fell apart occurred
Five years ago, when he fell and broke
His shoulder bone.
“Clifford died,” she said.
And tried to comfort me with her sympathy
For my awful loss.
I didn’t mourn his death at all.
“Too bad he died so young,” I said,
At twenty-three.” But all I cared about
Was the space in my crowded room.
The p.m. nurses took me back into my room.
I asked one to play my tape,
Appalachian Spring.
She reached into my bedside stand and slipped.
“There’s blood all over the floor, Clifford’s.
I thought they’d cleaned up all that mess.”
I spent the weekend after that in the solarium.
I read and overheard the nurses in the next room.
“They say he wrote exquisite poetry
About the way he felt when people stared
At him as if he were a freak.”
And so
I learned of my insensitivity,
Insensitivity so great I failed
To recognize a person
Caught in much the same predicament as I.
Such numbness isolates me more
Than any iron lung.
sábado, 4 de fevereiro de 2023
sexta-feira, 3 de fevereiro de 2023
Meditações - The clock is obdurate
Troy Davis
The clock is obdurate,
Random, and definite.
Obdurate the calendar.
You thump on the cot: another signature.
Did it didn’t do it would do it again.
And if a deferred dream dies? Please sign the petition.
Very good. Let’s hunt for a pen.
If you thump, there’s another signature and
Signatures are given freely by the signer’s hand.
quinta-feira, 2 de fevereiro de 2023
Relógios & Canetas online - Editorial - ano recorde
Editorial Fevereiro
Ano recorde, mesmo sem China e Hong Kong, mas com MoonSwatch
A Suíça exportou em 2022 relógios num valor recorde de 24,8
mil milhões de francos (mais 11,4 por cento do que no ano anterior). Isto
apesar de dois dos seus três principais mercados terem quebrado no ano passado.
A China, segundo mercado, importou menos 13,6 por cento;
Hong Kong, terceiro mercado, importou menos 10,5 por cento. Os Estados Unidos,
principal destino dos relógios suíços em 2022, importou mais 26,3 por cento.
Portugal terminou o ano como 28º mercado, com um aumento de 14,6 por cento.
Em quantidade, a indústria relojoeira suíça estabilizou, depois
de anos de diminuição - 15,8 milhões de relógios exportados (mais 0,3 por cento
do que em 2021 – 49 mil unidades).
Oliver R. Müller, analista do sector, faz notar que, se não
fosse o fenómeno MoonSwatch (estima-se vendas de um milhão destes relógios), a
Suíça teria exportado menos 900 mil unidades, e partindo de uma base já de si
muito baixa. O país exporta hoje cerca de metade dos relógios que exportava há
20 anos (29,6 milhões em 2000).
Daí que o preço médio por relógio exportado tenha continua a
aumentar, cifrando-se agora nos 1.500 francos (o que dá um preço público da
ordem dos 3 mil francos).
Com a imprevisibilidade que a guerra na Europa significa, a
indústria relojoeira helvética está, apesar de tudo, optimista – espera um
retomar forte do consumo na China.
A nível global, o conjunto dos HNWI (High Net Worth
Individuals, fortuna líquida de 1 milhão de dólares) e dos UHNWI (Ultra High Net
Worth Individuals, fortuna líquida de 30 milhões de dólares) continua a ser
cada vez maior – serão no total 60 milhões de indivíduos em todo o mundo. A
relojoaria suíça é um dos seus produtos de luxo preferidos. Tanto no mercado de
primeira como de segunda mão (que este ano deverá ultrapassar o primeiro em
termos de valor).
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Iconografia do tempo - je viens a toute heure et n'en indique aucune...
(arquivo Fernando Correia de Oliveira)
Meditações - clocks that bonged my homesick hours at different times
The pregnancy of words
Eros scrabbles to rose and rage
to gear or gare, as in Gare du Nord,
where I trained in to Paris from not
smoking pot in Master Mad, I’m sorry,
Amsterdam, with its canals
called grachts and clocks
that bonged my homesick hours
at different times. Which is smite
for you violet types, a flower
that says “love it” if you listen. Me, I do
and don’t feel it matters that evil thrives
in live, that we tinker and smash
everything down to bits and then
try to patch a path back home, it’s our lotto
in life, to have no clue
what a natural disaster is
when that disaster is us. That’s what I love
about the shrug, it says zilch
sans le mouth and becomes
more aerobic the more you admit
the less you know, you know? It’s a jumble
out there, kids, with slips and slides
and elide’s eally ool, depending
what’s lopped off, as in light of hand
or slight of and, but I better spot
before you pots how sparse
this parsing is. Besides, what can I say
about language other than it’s an anal egg
in need of one glorious u. Words
or sword — pick your poisson. Every time
I try to peak into speaking, the bag
of gab to learn what our noodles
are really up to, I get flummoxed
that the tools I use
are the stool I stand on
to see a way in or out. I can’t even tell
if I’m more trapped or rapt,
if meaning’s mean or play’s
a dumb waiter riding numbly
up and down. But have you noticed
read becomes dear
if you ignore the world
as you find it and find it in you
to swirl the word, in the way
solve and loves are the same
bones, different skeletons.
quarta-feira, 1 de fevereiro de 2023
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Acabado de chegar, de Munique - Zeppelin Atlantik Automatik GMT
O modelo Zeppelin Atlantik Automatik GMT, equipado com o calibre Citizen/ Miyota 9075, foi das novidades técnica e esteticamente mais interessantes de 2022, devido ao preço. Por menos de 500 euros, um calibre automático com data e segundo fuso horário é muito difícil de encontrar. O centro do mostrador, com um mapa-mundo desenhado a cores, dá-lhe um toque especial. De Munique, acabou de nos chegar pelo correio um exemplar, acompanhado de três estações de carregamento. Obrigado Willi Birk! (POINT Tech Electronic GmbH). Obrigado Jorge Pinheiro! (Sociedade de Relojoaria Independente).
Meditações - o relógio do pai
Radiant Ivory
After the death of my father, I locked
terça-feira, 31 de janeiro de 2023
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