Damn, parece que sim! :P
Testa-te.
Garrison: (falhei duas)
sexta-feira, 30 de março de 2007
terça-feira, 13 de março de 2007
terça-feira, 6 de março de 2007
Am I going to kill someone during my life?
UNKNOWN
Pelo menos foi o que ele respondeu...
The Occult meets the Internet: It's brick shitting time!!
Garrison: Yes.
Pelo menos foi o que ele respondeu...
The Occult meets the Internet: It's brick shitting time!!
Garrison: Yes.
segunda-feira, 5 de março de 2007
Ajuda ai, ó faxavôre!
Quem não gosta de ver bandas ao vivo cá? Ainda por cima bandas que nunca cá puseram os pés? Então podem vir aqui e tentar que essa banda venha visitar-nos. Mesmo que não gostem do tipo de música, votem. Tentar não custa. :P
Obrigado, irmãos PV.
Ah, já agora fica aí o úlitmo video deles:
Obrigado, irmãos PV.
Ah, já agora fica aí o úlitmo video deles:
segunda-feira, 26 de fevereiro de 2007
segunda-feira, 19 de fevereiro de 2007
A verdade!
(é favor clicar na imagem para correcta visualização)
Meus caros amigos... Por muito que por vezes a verdade seja dolorosa, cabe a nós enquanto amigos imperdíveis partilhar um problema, que sendo a maleita de um de nós, nos afecta também a todos. Há questões demasiado essenciais à nossa felicidade enquanto indivíduos - pornografia lésbica - das quais não conseguimos desviar-nos. Certos comportamentos de fuga ou desprezo até devem ser contemplados como insolência e inaceitáveis neste meio. A melhor forma de lidar com a questão passa também pela exposição pública e do diálogo aberto.
Vamos todos abraçar a questão com devida dedicação e ajudar o Max a sentir que independentemente de tudo, o aceitamos como um de nós e estamos dispostos a esquecer estes lapsos de sanidade.
Os vossos comentários são benvindos.
Um abraço.
segunda-feira, 29 de janeiro de 2007
Dá pa andarmos à porrada?
Caros amigos,
Eu e o tio Grivas, em mais uma das longas noites de insónias, encontrámos há uns tempos produções dignas de serem partilhadas com vocês, aqui no nosso modesto blog. Não se deixem desmoralizar pela 1ª impressão que os videos transmitem, e tentem visualizar todos até ao fim. Depois irão compreender.
Enjoy!
Reparem bem no murro ao basofe (até doi), e no facto do gajo de oculos e taco ser igual ao kapisso :P
Bruce Lee Spirit - video powered by Metacafe
Return To Hk - video powered by Metacafe
Return To Hk 2 - video powered by Metacafe
Eu e o tio Grivas, em mais uma das longas noites de insónias, encontrámos há uns tempos produções dignas de serem partilhadas com vocês, aqui no nosso modesto blog. Não se deixem desmoralizar pela 1ª impressão que os videos transmitem, e tentem visualizar todos até ao fim. Depois irão compreender.
Enjoy!
Reparem bem no murro ao basofe (até doi), e no facto do gajo de oculos e taco ser igual ao kapisso :P
Bruce Lee Spirit - video powered by Metacafe
Return To Hk - video powered by Metacafe
Return To Hk 2 - video powered by Metacafe
quinta-feira, 4 de janeiro de 2007
A Serenidade Caótica
With our concept making apparatus called "mind" we look at reality through the ideas-about-reality which our cultures give us.
The ideas-about-reality are mistakenly labeled "reality" and unenlightened people are forever perplexed by the fact that other people, especially other cultures, see "reality" differently.
It is only the ideas-about-reality which differ. Real (capital-T True) reality is a level deeper than is the level of concept.
We look at the world through windows on which have been drawn grids (concepts). Different philosophies use different grids. A culture is a group of people with rather similar grids. Through a window we view chaos, and relate it to the points on our grid, and thereby understand it. The ORDER is in the GRID. That is the Aneristic Principle.
The Aneristic Principle is that of APPARENT ORDER; the Eristic Principle is that of APPARENT DISORDER. Both order and disorder are man made concepts and are artificial divisions of PURE CHAOS, which is a level deeper than is the level of distinction making.
The belief that 'order is true' and 'disorder is false' or somehow wrong, is the Aneristic Illusion. To say the same of disorder, is the Eristic Illusion.
Reality is the original Rorschach.
An illuminated mind can see all, yet he does not insist that anything is really true, or that anything at all is true. Reason, and disorder are all his own creations and he may do with them as he wishes.
The real reality is 'there', but everything you know about 'it' is in your mind and yours to do with as you like. Conceptualization is art, and you are the artist.
To choose order over disorder, or disorder over order, is to accept a trip composed of both the creative and the destructive. But to choose the creative over the destructive is an all-creative trip composed of both order and disorder. To accomplish this, one need only accept creative disorder along with, and equal to, creative order, and also willing to reject destructive order as an undesirable equal to destructive disorder.
There are no rules anywhere. There is serenity in Chaos.
The ideas-about-reality are mistakenly labeled "reality" and unenlightened people are forever perplexed by the fact that other people, especially other cultures, see "reality" differently.
It is only the ideas-about-reality which differ. Real (capital-T True) reality is a level deeper than is the level of concept.
We look at the world through windows on which have been drawn grids (concepts). Different philosophies use different grids. A culture is a group of people with rather similar grids. Through a window we view chaos, and relate it to the points on our grid, and thereby understand it. The ORDER is in the GRID. That is the Aneristic Principle.
The Aneristic Principle is that of APPARENT ORDER; the Eristic Principle is that of APPARENT DISORDER. Both order and disorder are man made concepts and are artificial divisions of PURE CHAOS, which is a level deeper than is the level of distinction making.
The belief that 'order is true' and 'disorder is false' or somehow wrong, is the Aneristic Illusion. To say the same of disorder, is the Eristic Illusion.
Reality is the original Rorschach.
An illuminated mind can see all, yet he does not insist that anything is really true, or that anything at all is true. Reason, and disorder are all his own creations and he may do with them as he wishes.
The real reality is 'there', but everything you know about 'it' is in your mind and yours to do with as you like. Conceptualization is art, and you are the artist.
To choose order over disorder, or disorder over order, is to accept a trip composed of both the creative and the destructive. But to choose the creative over the destructive is an all-creative trip composed of both order and disorder. To accomplish this, one need only accept creative disorder along with, and equal to, creative order, and also willing to reject destructive order as an undesirable equal to destructive disorder.
There are no rules anywhere. There is serenity in Chaos.
- Adaptado de Principia Discordia e vários artigos sobre Discordianismo
terça-feira, 26 de dezembro de 2006
The Five and a Half Minute Hallway
With a little luck, you'll believe all you've said, and then you'll put it aside -though even here, just that one word, "aside", makes me shudder, for what is ever really just put aside?- and you'll carry on, eat, drink, be merry and most of all you'll sleep well.
Then again there's a good chance you won't.
This much I'm certain of: it doesn't happen immediatly. You'll finish and that will be that, until a moment will come, maybe in a month, maybe in a year, maybe in several years. You'll be sick or feeling troubled or deeply in love or quietly uncertain or even content for the first time in your life. It won't matter. Out of the blue, beyond any cause you can trace, you'll suddenly realize things are not how you perceived them to be at all. For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You'll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you'll realize it's always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won't understand why or how. You'll have forgotten what granted you this awareness in the first place.
Old shelters -televisions, magazines, movies- won't protect you anymore. You might try scribbling it in a journal, on a napkin, maybe even in the margins of your keyboard. That's when you'll discover you no longer trust the very walls you always took for granted. Even the hallways you've walked a hundred times will feel longer, much longer, and the shadows, any shadows at all, will suddenly seem deeper, much, much, deeper.
You might try then, as I did, to find a sky so full of stars it will blind you again. Only no sky can blind you now. Even with all that iridiscent magic up there, your eye will no longer linger on the light, it will no longer trance constellations. You'll care only about the darkness and you'll watch it for hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in vain to believe you're some kind of indispensable, universe-appointed sentinel, as if just by looking you could actually keep it all at bay. It will get so bad you'll be afraid to look away, you'll be afraid to sleep.
Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch youself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then, for better or for worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name.
And then the nightmare will begin.
- Adaptado de House of Leaves
Then again there's a good chance you won't.
This much I'm certain of: it doesn't happen immediatly. You'll finish and that will be that, until a moment will come, maybe in a month, maybe in a year, maybe in several years. You'll be sick or feeling troubled or deeply in love or quietly uncertain or even content for the first time in your life. It won't matter. Out of the blue, beyond any cause you can trace, you'll suddenly realize things are not how you perceived them to be at all. For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You'll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you'll realize it's always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won't understand why or how. You'll have forgotten what granted you this awareness in the first place.
Old shelters -televisions, magazines, movies- won't protect you anymore. You might try scribbling it in a journal, on a napkin, maybe even in the margins of your keyboard. That's when you'll discover you no longer trust the very walls you always took for granted. Even the hallways you've walked a hundred times will feel longer, much longer, and the shadows, any shadows at all, will suddenly seem deeper, much, much, deeper.
You might try then, as I did, to find a sky so full of stars it will blind you again. Only no sky can blind you now. Even with all that iridiscent magic up there, your eye will no longer linger on the light, it will no longer trance constellations. You'll care only about the darkness and you'll watch it for hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in vain to believe you're some kind of indispensable, universe-appointed sentinel, as if just by looking you could actually keep it all at bay. It will get so bad you'll be afraid to look away, you'll be afraid to sleep.
Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch youself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then, for better or for worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name.
And then the nightmare will begin.
- Adaptado de House of Leaves
quinta-feira, 21 de dezembro de 2006
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