The Vineyards

In about 2h30 I am supposed to finally go fetch the damned paperwork. Then all I have to do is call my friend who works in the pulishing company and ask her for the address to send it to. Then I fill the paperwork, find an envelope and a stamp and take it to the nearest mailbox, 150m from here. On Monday it will get to them, and then or the day after they will check it to see if everything is okay. Then for some reason a countdown of 15 days begins. I have no idea why it begins, but it does, just to further bother me. Money is a very complicated issue – I do believe I should just get a lot of it and not have to worry anymore. Really, I mean it: someone should figure out how much I will make throughout my life, and give me the whole sum already. And I would work for free ever after, once I had put that money in some very profitable fund that would give a monthly salary on interest alone.

To conclude, 15 days after they receive the paperwork, hopefully, if the gods are merciful, the sky remains blue, the government remains stupid and I do not decide to become a zen-buddhist monk, the money should be in the bank account by me chosen, to disappear in the endless sea of red where vast shoals of hungry minus signs (Monetarium negativilis) devour any and every defenseless deposit (Monetarium hardworkis). Wheee! But I figured if I revise and proofread four thousand pages I will be able to kill all the minus signs. Now all I need is a publisher willing to revise the Holy Bible! But War and Peace, Anna Karenina, Crime and Punishment and Lolita (and The Three Sisters for an extra bonus) would be good enough, too. And I promise to wipe out any stupid name translation, too! After reading about Bilbo Bolseiro who went to Valfenda, where Elrond lives, and after noticing the names in the subtitles in Harry Potter had nothing to do with what they were saying (good thing I do not need to read subtitles except for extra accented speakers) I came to hate even more the translation of names. And to think in Italy they translate even the authors’ name! In the name of Alice, who would want to read Luis Carroll or Guilhere Shakespeare of Francisco Bacon, or listen to anything composed by João Sebastião Bach or Ludovico de Beethoven? I make an exception, naturally, to Jorge Caminhante Moita, President of the United States, as long as they do the same and call our President Louis Ignacious “Squid” Smith.

When I grow up I want to read the last chapter of “Ulysses” out loud in front of five thousand people with the exact punctuation given to it by James Joyce. Now accepting donation of extra lungs.

Speaking of which, um pouco de Português porque não faz sentido dizer isso em Inglês.

Olhando o livro de Literatura de minhã irmã, Primeiro Colegial, eis que me trombo com uma conhecida injustamente mui repudiada por meus colegas pré-editores e funcionários públicos: Anarda! Rosa da formosura, Anarda bela / Igualmente se ostenta como a rosa; / Anarda mais que as flores é formosa, / Mais formosa que as flores brilha aquela. Mas o importante é que eu acreditei.

Keep walking.

Oh, of course, prior to oblivion, last night I managed to get my sister to see “One Pound Gospel”, from the Rumik World series. I had not seen it for a very long time (The Laughing Target is my favorite, I will have the manga someday). It is so adorable. As we used to say five years ago, “That is the most light anime ever.” Some minutes that do not change one’s life, and the entire plot revolves about a bit of too much food and two punches in the eye. That is great. Apex of simplicity. And the first time I saw an anime character yell “faito!”.

Indeed.

This Journal is far from interesting, is it not? All I have spoken of in the last many days is the book, the paperwork, the car, the Final Fantasy Tactics, and the money. And the worst of all, the one thing that could give it a bit of personality I am fatally unable to do: change the title to “Vineyards”. If I used Blogger, I could do it, but then it would be a “blog”, not a “Journal”, and I refuse to have a “blog”.

I dislike blogs in general, with exception of witty ones. In honor of friendship, I read a handful of depressed authors. The interesting part is two of these three are far more interesting when the authors are indeed depressed. Some people, when less than joyful, act like they have been locked up in Chateau d’If for years. But when not depressed their daily writing is so innocuous it parallels these.

Speaking of which, in the name of Apollo and Tanathos I swear never to post something saying I am depressed and I wonder where I went wrong and I wish I would die. And while in the subject, I swear never to post the lyrics to any song, no matter how fitting it may be at the time. And that reminds me of quiz-tests, about which I make no promises, but I trust your good senses that you will never want to know which Anime Neko or Anime Stereotype or Xena Character I am.

And that train of thought (image that crossed mind: “Magic Train” from Final Fantasy Tactics; I have to finish it before I am swamped) naturally leads to another kind of blog (broken link, removed), although mainly in Portuguese. My friends from USP are free to stay as far away as digitally possible from these (no big deal, another removed broken link), for they WILL hurt your delusional left wing ideals (including that one that claims saying “there are 54 million people in poverty in Brazil” before the elections then “we admit, there are only 28 million” after is perfectly normal).

The major problem in some of those, however, is the strong presence of Catholicism. Rome, from the sword to the cross, the massive mental leveling and domination did not change one bit. And at least in the time of the sword they had more fun gods!

Now that this post slipped across the lane to the other side of the road, I will manuever it back in position: car delayed until tomorrow morning, paperwork delayed until tomorrow afternoon, Final Fantasy Tactics going well (and I keep imagining Agrias with the voice of Ranma – the one thing preventing me from writing fanfic about it just to give her some actual voice is the obviety of such things).

Now taking suggestions on how to destroy the world in one shot (and/or guarantee a post-apocalypse worthy of great sci-fi writers).