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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CUADRHw_eSp7ImA9WhBbGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668</id><updated>2013-05-18T14:29:35.241+01:00</updated><category term="Duras" /><category term="O som e o sentido" /><category term="Liga Aleixo" /><category term="grandes defesas" /><category term="Versões de um mesmo mito" /><category term="Quaresma" /><category term="Mundo Estúpido" /><category term="Emily Blunt" /><category term="Lara" /><category term="Essie Jain" /><title>Avatares de um Desejo</title><subtitle type="html">Registos confessionais, pseudo-antropológicos e quasi-antropológicos Bruno Sena Martins</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3212</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/Avatares-de-Desejo" /><feedburner:info uri="avatares-de-desejo" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUADRHw_cCp7ImA9WhBbGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-4958852408838020273</id><published>2013-05-18T14:17:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2013-05-18T14:29:35.248+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-05-18T14:29:35.248+01:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Emily Blunt" /><title>Emily Blunt</title><content type="html">Ver todos filmes em que entra a Emily Blunt apenas porque a Emily Blunt entra é, como no passado se comprovou, um princípio operacional em tudo duvidoso. Mas às vezes ser perseverante - ou vicioso - compensa.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;'Your Sister's Sister' (2011) é uma estimável surpresa.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;

&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--PKfpFnlCJA/UZd_Wy0g64I/AAAAAAAABCM/8Fb9wkWi6t4/s1600/your-sister-s-sister06.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--PKfpFnlCJA/UZd_Wy0g64I/AAAAAAAABCM/8Fb9wkWi6t4/s640/your-sister-s-sister06.jpg" width="700" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/4958852408838020273?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/4958852408838020273?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/adcxtqpaKpY/emily-blunt.html" title="Emily Blunt" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--PKfpFnlCJA/UZd_Wy0g64I/AAAAAAAABCM/8Fb9wkWi6t4/s72-c/your-sister-s-sister06.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/05/emily-blunt.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4HRnw9fCp7ImA9WhBbFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-5441139381462439995</id><published>2013-05-13T16:26:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2013-05-13T18:58:57.264+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-05-13T18:58:57.264+01:00</app:edited><title>Jorge Jesus de joelhos</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SC0hz8Loid8/UZEGbsawPLI/AAAAAAAABB8/NeBkAAxN8Rg/s1600/jesusdragao1.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SC0hz8Loid8/UZEGbsawPLI/AAAAAAAABB8/NeBkAAxN8Rg/s640/jesusdragao1.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;A imagem de Jorge Jesus de joelhos, transmitida em directo pela Sporttv, foi demasiado pungente, mesmo para quem lhe criticou a soberba de outras épocas. Por isso, para mim, nenhuma justiça poética se entreviu naquele momento. A justiça que se cumpre com excesso deixa de o ser e, de alguma forma, sinto sinceramente que Jesus não merecia aquilo (não com tamanho dramatismo).
 
Jesus viu partir Witsel, Javi Garcia, Bruno César, Nolito. Potenciou Matic, Enzo Perez, Lima, Melgarejo. Esteve todo o início de época sem Luisão. Ficou sem Champions porque o Barcelona se lembrou de ir perder a Glasgow. Manteve-se em 3 frentes até ao fim, chamando noviços ao 11 (André Almeida, André Gomes, Urreta, Roderik, Luisinho). Trouxe o balneário unido mesmo com o muito banco dos consagrados (Carlos Martins, Aimar, Cardozo). Não posso desejar que o Porto falhe na última jornada, não posso sonegar o quanto festejei aquele golo no último minuto. Mas, mais do que nunca, desejo sinceramente que Benfica ganhe ao Chelsea. Quanto a Jesus, se o Benfica cometer o erro de não renovar, não me surpreende que um grande da Europa o venha buscar. Pode não falar línguas, mas de futebol espectáculo entende ele. </content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5441139381462439995?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5441139381462439995?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/MGDkLPCk7LM/jorge-jesus-de-joelhos.html" title="Jorge Jesus de joelhos" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SC0hz8Loid8/UZEGbsawPLI/AAAAAAAABB8/NeBkAAxN8Rg/s72-c/jesusdragao1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/05/jorge-jesus-de-joelhos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYHQXkyfyp7ImA9WhBUFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-9182933460270445474</id><published>2013-05-02T17:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2013-05-02T17:45:30.797+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-05-02T17:45:30.797+01:00</app:edited><title>Queima das Fitas de Coimbra</title><content type="html">O repúdio com que os ex-estudantes olham para a festas académicas não é separável de uma nostalgia mal resolvida. Nenhuma crítica social, nenhuma distância cautelar em relação as massas alienadas, subsume inteiramente a saudade de um tempo que, certa ou erradamente, se confunde com a juventude (Sweet Bird of Youth, pois). Renegar tão completamente a juvenília é o erro infantil da idade que se julga adulta.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J546QmrVHXs/UYKYBVgT4bI/AAAAAAAABBg/BqChgSjkr0Q/s1600/Oscar-Revisionism-1962-Sweet-Bird-of-Youth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J546QmrVHXs/UYKYBVgT4bI/AAAAAAAABBg/BqChgSjkr0Q/s640/Oscar-Revisionism-1962-Sweet-Bird-of-Youth.jpg" width="426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/9182933460270445474?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/9182933460270445474?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/k3PqA6Q-3ek/queima-das-fitas-de-coimbra.html" title="Queima das Fitas de Coimbra" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J546QmrVHXs/UYKYBVgT4bI/AAAAAAAABBg/BqChgSjkr0Q/s72-c/Oscar-Revisionism-1962-Sweet-Bird-of-Youth.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/05/queima-das-fitas-de-coimbra.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUAR3YyeSp7ImA9WhBUFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-8292019115553867544</id><published>2013-05-01T23:44:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2013-05-01T23:44:06.891+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-05-01T23:44:06.891+01:00</app:edited><title>Da mundanidade bíblica</title><content type="html"> George Steiner, 'Um Prefácio à Bíblia Hebraica', Paixão Intacta (1996) 

&lt;blockquote&gt;'O Antigo Testamento e o Novo são acumulações de mitos, fábulas, lendas, códigos legislativos, tratados morais, escritos eróticos, litúrgicos e rituais, crónicas históricas com intentos políticos e sagas tipológicas alinhavadas umas às outras, mais ou menos contingentemente, no decurso de longos séculos em cenários sócio-étnicos completamente diferentes e por uma multidão de mãos. 

Essa montagem abunda em disparates, autocontradições, barbaridades arcaicas, repetições, desigualdades de talento discursivo-espiritual, de molde a tomar a mera noção de autoria divina e de harmonia completamente ridículas. Homens e mulheres — alguns, sem dúvida, de rara visão moral e habilidade literária — produziram estes textos diversos de maneiras perfeitamente natural e, por consequência, inteiramente comparáveis com os de outros grandes pensadores, poetas, historiadores e legisladores, em numerosas culturas e épocas. Podemos estar a olhar para material cuja data e proveniência permanecem sem solução. Mas trata-se de material mundano, no sentido exacto da palavra. E inteiramente do nosso mundo, e da nossa imaginação e composição.'&lt;/blockquote&gt;

Passagem prodigiosa de Steiner sobre a Bíblia. O reconhecimento da mundanidade da Bíblia (ou de outros livros sagrados) não carrega o ímpeto de desqualificação da fé, mas da arbitrariedade dos poderes erigidos sobre a 'palavra de Deus'.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/8292019115553867544?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/8292019115553867544?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/4rqccCCrliQ/da-mundanidade-biblica.html" title="Da mundanidade bíblica" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/05/da-mundanidade-biblica.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkcFSX45eCp7ImA9WhBVEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-9188179941885634997</id><published>2013-04-17T22:26:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2013-04-17T22:26:58.020+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-04-17T22:26:58.020+01:00</app:edited><title>Sent mail</title><content type="html">Na troca de e-mails profissionais entre desconhecidos, a formalidade tende a decair a cada envio. Qual ordem natural das coisas, o "Ex.mo" passa a "Caro", os "melhores cumprimentos" passam a "abraço" (e por aí adiante).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;No fundo, a formalidade é utilizada como um bluff na expectativa que ninguém devolva tão exaltada reverência. Chamemos-lhe o que quisermos ('farsa colectiva', 'pose institucional', 'timidez burocrática', 'anacronismo hierarquizante'), permanece o facto: já ninguém tem jogo para isto.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/9188179941885634997?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/9188179941885634997?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/48wgcrQ_ShY/sent-mail.html" title="Sent mail" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/04/sent-mail.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkADQ3Y8fyp7ImA9WhBVEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-5240117934022864481</id><published>2013-04-16T10:20:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2013-04-16T16:06:12.877+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-04-16T16:06:12.877+01:00</app:edited><title>Boston, Bagdad</title><content type="html">&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
Lives are supported and maintained differently, and there are radically different ways in which human physical vulnerability is distributed across the globe. Certain lives will be highly protected, and the abrogation of their claims to sanctity will be sufficient to mobilize the forces of war. Other lives will not find such fast and furious support and will not even qualify as "grievable." Judith Butler, &lt;i&gt;Precarious Life&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Por um mínimo de proporcionalidade no devido lamento das vítimas, lembro que hoje &lt;a href="http://www.dw.de/nationwide-bomb-attacks-rattle-iraq-ahead-of-polls/a-16743906"&gt;morreram mais de 30 pessoas no Iraque após um surto de ataques bombistas&lt;/a&gt;. Repito, hoje. Repito, pessoas ("apesar" de não serem americanos ou "ocidentais").&amp;nbsp; Ondas de choque? Nenhumas. São as vidas dos "outros".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PC1X-il0id8/UW1o2G-d26I/AAAAAAAABAM/tzZuogzOdUg/s1600/precarious_life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PC1X-il0id8/UW1o2G-d26I/AAAAAAAABAM/tzZuogzOdUg/s1600/precarious_life.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5240117934022864481?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5240117934022864481?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/7t5GH3UATnw/boston-bagdad.html" title="Boston, Bagdad" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PC1X-il0id8/UW1o2G-d26I/AAAAAAAABAM/tzZuogzOdUg/s72-c/precarious_life.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/04/boston-bagdad.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEEQ3g4cSp7ImA9WhBWGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-1107823125710045108</id><published>2013-04-12T23:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2013-04-12T23:10:02.639+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-04-12T23:10:02.639+01:00</app:edited><title>As vírgulas fazem-me mole</title><content type="html">Fico sinceramente comovido quando dou por mim a apagar um post esforçado - vírgulas no sítio, gralhas aparadas, insulto estilizado - só porque, segundos antes de o publicar, percebo que afinal já não concordo comigo.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/1107823125710045108?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/1107823125710045108?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/IqXk3vJYfFY/as-virgulas-fazem-me-mole.html" title="As vírgulas fazem-me mole" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/04/as-virgulas-fazem-me-mole.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUANSX04eyp7ImA9WhBQGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-5790067374934886842</id><published>2013-03-21T14:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2013-03-21T14:56:38.333Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-03-21T14:56:38.333Z</app:edited><title>Emily</title><content type="html">&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
"As minhas grandes desventuras neste mundo têm sido as desventuras do Heathcliff, e eu vi-as e senti-as desde o princípio: nele reside o meu maior apego a existência. Se tudo perecesse e ele continuasse, eu também continuaria a existir; se tudo permanecesse e ele fosse aniquilado, o universo tornar-se-ia para mim um mundo estranho, de que eu pareceria não fazer parte. O meu amor ao Linton assemelha-se a folhagem dos bosques: o tempo o transformará, bem o pressinto, como o Inverno transforma as árvores. 0 meu amor ao Heathcliff lembra os penhascos eternos que a terra cobre: uma fonte de delícias, quase invisível mas essencial. Nelly, eu sou Heathcliff!"&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6gCrx_js1ok/UUsfJiTE9ZI/AAAAAAAAA_0/j_qEN5c0-Ec/s1600/o-monte-dos-vendavais.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6gCrx_js1ok/UUsfJiTE9ZI/AAAAAAAAA_0/j_qEN5c0-Ec/s1600/o-monte-dos-vendavais.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5790067374934886842?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5790067374934886842?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/0ghpWRfW9f8/emily.html" title="Emily" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6gCrx_js1ok/UUsfJiTE9ZI/AAAAAAAAA_0/j_qEN5c0-Ec/s72-c/o-monte-dos-vendavais.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/03/emily.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYESHY8fSp7ImA9WhBQEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-5266879352003433858</id><published>2013-03-14T11:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2013-03-14T11:55:09.875Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-03-14T11:55:09.875Z</app:edited><title /><content type="html">Mais um argentino na Europa às ordens de Jesus.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5266879352003433858?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5266879352003433858?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/EeHM0ElZoeM/mais-um-argentino-na-europa-as-ordens.html" title="" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/03/mais-um-argentino-na-europa-as-ordens.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYERnw5fSp7ImA9WhBQEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-7856386444007022631</id><published>2013-03-12T14:21:00.001Z</published><updated>2013-03-12T14:21:47.225Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-03-12T14:21:47.225Z</app:edited><title>Unigénita</title><content type="html">Há pessoas muito interessantes na vida real, mas que, no fundo, não têm perfil no facebook.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/7856386444007022631?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/7856386444007022631?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/917Zyc28Lb0/unigenita.html" title="Unigénita" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/03/unigenita.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAGQn8-eCp7ImA9WhBQEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-9114890084367353708</id><published>2013-03-12T00:21:00.001Z</published><updated>2013-03-12T00:22:03.150Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-03-12T00:22:03.150Z</app:edited><title>D. Umberto</title><content type="html">&lt;a class="saportelink" href="http://fotos.sapo.pt/bsenamartins/fotos/?uid=1UeMleArcUOiv1MgsvRD" style="font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" height="300" src="http://c6.quickcachr.fotos.sapo.pt/i/Bde1368c4/14717435_IgC0E.jpeg" style="border: 0px none;" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
D. Umberto (1952) conta-nos a história de um reformado subitamente atirado para a miséria após uma drástica redução do valor da sua pensão (instrutivamente, o filme começa com uma carga policial sobre uma manifestação de reformados). Despejado, humilhado, D. Umberto deambula, hesitando &amp;nbsp;suicidar-se por não saber o que será de Flick, seu cão e companheiro de velhice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Parece que Filipe Pinhal (terá visto reduzida a sua reforma para 14 mil euros) encabeça um movimento de reformados indignados, seguindo a linha antes trilhada por Aníbal Silva, o reformado presidencial que mal tem para as suas despesas. Sem vergonha, falam espezinhando olimpicamente o destino de tantos reformados que por excesso de vergonha jamais falarão da miséria em que caíram. Que saiam de casa ou dos seus palácios, que vejam o D. Umberto, que colham a sensibilidade social onde melhor a acharem. Mas que vão gozar com outros.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/9114890084367353708?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/9114890084367353708?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/AYjUgUWfRcs/d.html" title="D. Umberto" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/03/d.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMDSXY9fip7ImA9WhBRFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-5977789707259575837</id><published>2013-03-07T14:53:00.002Z</published><updated>2013-03-07T15:01:18.866Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-03-07T15:01:18.866Z</app:edited><title>Varane</title><content type="html">Não é fácil explicar às pessoas, contra quaisquer pretensões à posteridade, que o momento do jogo teve como protagonista a capacidade deslizante de Varane (para que percebam, a realização chegou ao cúmulo de repetir mais vezes o golo do Modric do que o carrinho do Varane, um escândalo muito superior à expulsão do Nani). 

Por muito que eu admire "pontapés em arco fora da área chutados por croatas acabados de entrar," é em detalhes como este que a minha comoção se demora. Felizmente -- doutra forma seríamos obsessivamente monotemáticos -- a 'posteridade' pouco tem a ver com que nos fica. Sempre dá para arejar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;


&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/SNolzN9oxk8" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5977789707259575837?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5977789707259575837?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/l5bmTeT1XMQ/nao-e-facil-explicar-as-pessoas-contra.html" title="Varane" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/SNolzN9oxk8/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/03/nao-e-facil-explicar-as-pessoas-contra.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEFQnY7cSp7ImA9WhBSGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-8257679507049841450</id><published>2013-02-26T14:05:00.004Z</published><updated>2013-02-26T14:06:53.809Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-26T14:06:53.809Z</app:edited><title>Jennifer Lawrence</title><content type="html">A Jennifer Lawrence the Winter's Bone (2010) merece mais o Oscar do que a Jennifer Lawrence de Silver Linings Playbook (2012). Mas é a Jennifer Lawrence the Silver Linings Playbook que nos convence da natureza não causal da magnificência da Jennifer Lawrence the Winter's Bone. Os 22 anos não nos devem distrair do óbvio: Jennifer Lawrence recebeu um Oscar de carreira. Justo? É cedo para dizer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;


&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P2iARuiebic/USzBKwS66KI/AAAAAAAAA_k/_kz9N3WOr4k/s1600/06092010_WintersBone2.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="295" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P2iARuiebic/USzBKwS66KI/AAAAAAAAA_k/_kz9N3WOr4k/s400/06092010_WintersBone2.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/8257679507049841450?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/8257679507049841450?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/fp7wn8dTosM/jennifer-lawrence.html" title="Jennifer Lawrence" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P2iARuiebic/USzBKwS66KI/AAAAAAAAA_k/_kz9N3WOr4k/s72-c/06092010_WintersBone2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/02/jennifer-lawrence.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMGQn0_cCp7ImA9WhBTGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-5250814413671754848</id><published>2013-02-15T08:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2013-02-15T08:53:43.348Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-15T08:53:43.348Z</app:edited><title>14</title><content type="html">Ontem, numa entrevista a uma rádio local, perguntaram-me se acredito no futuro do amor (romântico-erótico, entenda-se). Respondia enquanto antropólogo - supostamente desligado do ventilador narcísico - pelo que, anunciando um amor cada vez mais esquivo a idealizações prévias ao 'encontro', experimentei um sim. Sem exemplo.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5250814413671754848?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5250814413671754848?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/eOPn2RVY2AY/14.html" title="14" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/02/14.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EDR385fip7ImA9WhBTFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-5945886739887032058</id><published>2013-02-11T16:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2013-02-11T16:21:16.126Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2013-02-11T16:21:16.126Z</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Versões de um mesmo mito" /><title>"Perdi para o meu corpo"</title><content type="html">No dia 10 de Fevereiro de 2011, Ronaldo 'o fenómeno', renunciou ao futebol, afirmando lapidar 'Perdi para o meu corpo.' Assim renunciemos ao dualismo corpo-alma, ou à sua versão cartesiana, e percebemos que, exactamente dois anos depois, a história repete-se numa simetria quase imaculada. 


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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rDDQZJDsgOk/URkYmJdIG1I/AAAAAAAAA_M/3yENKIfkPYE/s1600/69929.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rDDQZJDsgOk/URkYmJdIG1I/AAAAAAAAA_M/3yENKIfkPYE/s320/69929.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_xB1MBc6IIA/URkYoJOpcvI/AAAAAAAAA_U/27fZcgK9LV8/s1600/2013-02-11T122448Z_1987725738_GM1E92B1JMC01_RTRMADP_3_POPE-RESIGNS.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_xB1MBc6IIA/URkYoJOpcvI/AAAAAAAAA_U/27fZcgK9LV8/s320/2013-02-11T122448Z_1987725738_GM1E92B1JMC01_RTRMADP_3_POPE-RESIGNS.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 13.600000381469727px;" /&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5945886739887032058?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/5945886739887032058?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/e5dtMd7gZwQ/perdi-para-o-meu-corpo.html" title="&quot;Perdi para o meu corpo&quot;" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rDDQZJDsgOk/URkYmJdIG1I/AAAAAAAAA_M/3yENKIfkPYE/s72-c/69929.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2013/02/perdi-para-o-meu-corpo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYNRn4_eip7ImA9WhNVFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-2875969748129481586</id><published>2012-12-26T15:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-12-26T21:43:17.042Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-12-26T21:43:17.042Z</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Versões de um mesmo mito" /><title>Versões de um mesmo mito</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0076085/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Una Giornata Particolare&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, 1977, Ettore Scola.

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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G3lmWbpiVsE/UNsRoGqyxXI/AAAAAAAAA-0/ophQMmL0Cx8/s1600/Really+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="441" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G3lmWbpiVsE/UNsRoGqyxXI/AAAAAAAAA-0/ophQMmL0Cx8/s640/Really+2.png" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0037558/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Brief Encounter&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;,&amp;nbsp;1945,&amp;nbsp;David Lean&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C26036L10Y0/UNsRqUMXfII/AAAAAAAAA-8/vbr3acIv-QQ/s1600/Really.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="442" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C26036L10Y0/UNsRqUMXfII/AAAAAAAAA-8/vbr3acIv-QQ/s640/Really.png" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Dos filmes visionados neste Natal poderia incluir &amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0066319/" target="_blank"&gt;Ryan's Daughter&lt;/a&gt; (1970, David Lean) nesta mitologia. No entanto, se é verdade que Ryan's Daughter também trata da traição e do arrombo emocional trazido por um breve encontro, nele a irreversibilidade é amplamente socializada (no caso, pela generalizada infâmia que cobre 'a infiel').&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Já a mitologia que proponho tem mais a ver com a solidão da memória após um encontro extra-conjugal inscrito em lugar nenhum. 'Una Giornata Particolare' e 'Brief Encounter' são filmes sobre a impossível arte de seguir a vidinha, aparentemente intocada, como se nada fosse. são filmes sobre o modo como a ausência, seja de arquivo seja de testemunhas, permite a ilusão do não acontecimento. É nessa ilusão que consiste a disjunção radical entre a brevidade e o irreversível. A brevidade de um evento é sublinhada pelo modo como este se eterniza em duas vidas resolutamente apartadas.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/2875969748129481586?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/2875969748129481586?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/NtBiMg4ozm8/versoes-de-um-mesmo-mito.html" title="Versões de um mesmo mito" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G3lmWbpiVsE/UNsRoGqyxXI/AAAAAAAAA-0/ophQMmL0Cx8/s72-c/Really+2.png" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/12/versoes-de-um-mesmo-mito.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ANSXY7eCp7ImA9WhNWGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-8881162274685612688</id><published>2012-12-19T11:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-12-19T11:16:38.800Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-12-19T11:16:38.800Z</app:edited><title>Para uma crise da normalidade</title><content type="html">&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="375" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/O7WuHfR9uTc" width="500"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/8881162274685612688?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/8881162274685612688?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/YM-MBPLdB3M/para-uma-crise-da-normalidade.html" title="Para uma crise da normalidade" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/O7WuHfR9uTc/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/12/para-uma-crise-da-normalidade.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4GRng-eyp7ImA9WhNWFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-3088020660115946093</id><published>2012-12-16T17:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-12-16T17:12:07.653Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-12-16T17:12:07.653Z</app:edited><title>Amour</title><content type="html">Perguntei-lhe se não estaria demasiado atrasado para o 'Amor'. Disse-me que não e ainda perguntou se queria pipocas. 
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vAVj40ks78A/UM3-LVXaNkI/AAAAAAAAA-I/3srXiwVO4rk/s1600/amour-poster02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vAVj40ks78A/UM3-LVXaNkI/AAAAAAAAA-I/3srXiwVO4rk/s640/amour-poster02.jpg" width="432" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/3088020660115946093?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/3088020660115946093?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/ssOy4Nhs0fk/amour.html" title="Amour" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vAVj40ks78A/UM3-LVXaNkI/AAAAAAAAA-I/3srXiwVO4rk/s72-c/amour-poster02.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/12/amour.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMCSH0_eSp7ImA9WhNWEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-3494401864988506066</id><published>2012-12-10T20:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-12-10T20:14:29.341Z</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-12-10T20:14:29.341Z</app:edited><title>José Guerra (1952-2012)</title><content type="html">Foi meu incansável guia nos caminhos da cegueira. A luta pelos direitos das pessoas com deficiência perde uma das suas vozes mais esclarecidas, inquebrantável nas suas convicções. Eu perdi um amigo e um sage. Até sempre, José Guerra.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;

&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t-1HkBUs_Jk/UMZBj6_aKWI/AAAAAAAAA90/RLyzfbJDnBI/s1600/AAA002H.JPG" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t-1HkBUs_Jk/UMZBj6_aKWI/AAAAAAAAA90/RLyzfbJDnBI/s400/AAA002H.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/3494401864988506066?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/3494401864988506066?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/_oU17FR3WGk/jose-guerra-1952-2012.html" title="José Guerra (1952-2012)" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t-1HkBUs_Jk/UMZBj6_aKWI/AAAAAAAAA90/RLyzfbJDnBI/s72-c/AAA002H.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/12/jose-guerra-1952-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08BQ3Y-fCp7ImA9WhNTGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-2653317357291660960</id><published>2012-10-22T11:28:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2012-10-22T11:30:52.854+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-10-22T11:30:52.854+01:00</app:edited><title>Paulo Ferreira</title><content type="html">&lt;blockquote&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Fernando Torres&lt;/b&gt;: ¿Conoce a Paulo Ferreira?
&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Jornalista&lt;/b&gt;: Sí, ¿su compañero en el Chelsea?
&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;blockquote&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Fernando Torres&lt;/b&gt;: Ha ganado Champions, Ligas en Portugal, en Inglaterra, ha ganado todos los títulos que se pueden ganar, y lleva allí dos años que no juega ni un minuto, y es un diez. Puedes estar acomodado, o puedes estar asumiendo tu papel, y él me enseñó eso, a decir ‘es lo que me toca ahora’. Se entrena como el que más, va a los partidos siempre con una sonrisa, siempre cerca de los jóvenes… me enseñó mucho. &lt;a href="http://deportes.elpais.com/deportes/2012/10/15/actualidad/1350329162_598731.html"&gt;(...)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/2653317357291660960?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/2653317357291660960?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/c698QvjE3lA/paulo-ferreira.html" title="Paulo Ferreira" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/10/paulo-ferreira.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cHRX0_fyp7ImA9WhNTGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-6416435685068462452</id><published>2012-10-22T11:17:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-10-22T11:17:14.347+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-10-22T11:17:14.347+01:00</app:edited><title>Alvorada</title><content type="html">Programar o despertador com uma música para adormecer não é sabotagem própria de indolentes. É, sim, a profunda convicção de que o corpo só desperta realmente quando acorda de um paradoxo.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/6416435685068462452?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/6416435685068462452?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/nqsjhDnvW2w/alvorada.html" title="Alvorada" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/10/alvorada.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMGR30yeSp7ImA9WhNTF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-6092544162255987460</id><published>2012-10-20T22:10:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2012-10-20T22:10:26.391+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-10-20T22:10:26.391+01:00</app:edited><title>Manuel António Pina (1943 -2012)</title><content type="html">&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
"É tarde. Ainda há um momento me apetecia conversar,&lt;br /&gt;agora estou outra vez tão cansado!&lt;br /&gt;Reparaste como o Outono este ano veio por outro lado,&lt;br /&gt;como se fosse pelo lado de dentro?" &lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/6092544162255987460?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/6092544162255987460?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/0a_7bhHbD1E/manuel-antonio-pina-1943-2012.html" title="Manuel António Pina (1943 -2012)" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/10/manuel-antonio-pina-1943-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUMQXk6cSp7ImA9WhNTFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-7313284552680254488</id><published>2012-10-19T11:11:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2012-10-19T11:24:40.719+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-10-19T11:24:40.719+01:00</app:edited><title>Arregaça</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R240hpaCQJ4/UIEnF7wjOOI/AAAAAAAAA80/Z4owpmN2BtI/s1600/IMG_1858.JPG" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R240hpaCQJ4/UIEnF7wjOOI/AAAAAAAAA80/Z4owpmN2BtI/s640/IMG_1858.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;O pelado da Arregaça está a ser "desmontado" para dar lugar a um relvado sintético. Uma notícia que chega tarde para toda uma geração que andou ali a arranhar as coxas. Daquela lama já mais ninguém beberá. Quanto ao mais não se preocupem, aqui estarei a vigiar o decurso da obra. Trabalhem descansados</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/7313284552680254488?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/7313284552680254488?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/Yqdz9UI1dvg/arregaca.html" title="Arregaça" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R240hpaCQJ4/UIEnF7wjOOI/AAAAAAAAA80/Z4owpmN2BtI/s72-c/IMG_1858.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/10/arregaca.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cGR3czfip7ImA9WhJaFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-510338134828933629</id><published>2012-10-06T15:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2012-10-06T19:43:46.986+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-10-06T19:43:46.986+01:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Versões de um mesmo mito" /><title>Versões de um mesmo mito</title><content type="html">Da minha janela. 

&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iCM9vUysg2s/UHA5KCMWYSI/AAAAAAAAA8E/QtmvZf2_WsQ/s1600/IMG_1792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iCM9vUysg2s/UHA5KCMWYSI/AAAAAAAAA8E/QtmvZf2_WsQ/s640/IMG_1792.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ps9rjf2tQts/UHA6mKQeEZI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YMGCevd-1OI/s1600/175117_1790164507741_1311272_o+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ps9rjf2tQts/UHA6mKQeEZI/AAAAAAAAA8M/YMGCevd-1OI/s640/175117_1790164507741_1311272_o+(1).jpg" width="512" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/510338134828933629?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/510338134828933629?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/n4mX_6qMCas/versoes-de-um-mesmo-mito.html" title="Versões de um mesmo mito" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iCM9vUysg2s/UHA5KCMWYSI/AAAAAAAAA8E/QtmvZf2_WsQ/s72-c/IMG_1792.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/10/versoes-de-um-mesmo-mito.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4MRH08fyp7ImA9WhJaE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5502668.post-7768870464063004642</id><published>2012-10-04T17:09:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2012-10-04T17:09:45.377+01:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-10-04T17:09:45.377+01:00</app:edited><title>Missa do Galo</title><content type="html">&lt;blockquote&gt;"Era o que chamamos uma pessoa simpática. Não dizia mal de ninguém, perdoava tudo. Não sabia odiar; pode ser até que não soubesse amar." &lt;/blockquote&gt;

"Missa do Galo", Machado de Assis.</content><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/7768870464063004642?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5502668/posts/default/7768870464063004642?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Avatares-de-Desejo/~3/eYOzQ-fibaE/missa-do-galo.html" title="Missa do Galo" /><author><name>Bruno Sena Martins</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02625126330623183639</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><feedburner:origLink>http://avatares-de-desejo.blogspot.com/2012/10/missa-do-galo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>
