Sunday, November 26, 2006

Borat: For Make Benefit


Sasha Baron Cohen , aka AliG, aka Borat, is himself Jewish and British - something that has not hindered him of making humor about his origins; on the contrary, this only legitimates his humor, in the good old tradition both cultures share, of laughing of themselves.
His most recent film has been banned in Russia, is piling lawsuits in the US and even in Romania, country where the pretense "Kazakhstan" scenes where shot. Also needless to say, he is not welcome in Kazakhstan...

I guess Cohen picked Kazakhstan to be the homeland of his character because the name had the right ring; or perhaps for the vagueness of information about that country, in the west – either way, it must have been quite innocent, the reason for his choice.
As I see it, being European, I think there’s a bit of Borat in all of us, like there is an Ali G ready to get out, in all kids.

Some people find Cohen a genius, others a duchebag. Cohen probably finds it normal; I am actually one of the majority who find him a genius, and a quite brave one too.
I can understand that some people can’t see the funny side of his “setups” - but when States start to get offended… I mean, I don’t remember seeing Austria overreacting over Cohen’s pseudo-Austrian Gay fashion reporter…It's a spoof, relax, have a laugh!

Any resemblance with the Danish cartoons situation is, I hope, superficial.
Humor – according to Encarta Encyclopedia: “words or actions intended to cause laughter… often categorized broadly as Comedy, the humor of exaggeration or incongruity, and Wit.”

So, humor is humor, even if the joke’s on us… I, for one, don’t really mind to get hit in the face with cream pies, provided they are fresh…


Saturday, November 25, 2006

Bad is Good

Jack Palance (born Volodymyr Palahnyuk (Ukrainian: Володимир Палагнюк) died early this month (10.11.'06) at the age of 87.
He was the Archetypal villain of movies, even earning a character (Phil Defer in the French version, Phil Wire in the English) in Lucky Luke comic books, along with his Oscar nominations and his one award.
Even if you are not the type who roots for the bad guy in the movies, this fellow was 3000 times more interesting to watch than the hero...

Monday, November 20, 2006

Guide to Unforgettable POORTUGAL I

Benvindo/a. Welcome. Willcommen. Bienvenu. Bienarivato/a. Konishiua. Bienvenido/a.

One thing I learned during my traveling abroad, is how well regarded Portuguese people are in the world, when it comes to hospitality.
They really make a genuine effort to please pasty tourists (and especially their wives), and go that extra mile to empty their wallets, to make sure their stay is truly unforgettable...

As part of the warm welcoming reception at our International airports, your passport will be checked by a typically mustached police officer, while he grunts something imperceptible, possibly a bribe request - your first local words!

Then, unless you are a single woman from Brazilian or Eastern-European origin, you will walk away undisturbed, just in time to be ripped off by the Taxi driver awaiting you – that is, if you don’t mind waiting hours for the odd bus not on strike, since most of our airports are not served by Train or Underground, am afraid.
Nine out of ten times, the driver will let you off at the right address, though (they are definitely more reliable than in other parts of the Med) - the one that will not, probably didn’t understand the address in the first place, so you should never rely on the old “they all speak English, down there”…

Unlike other tourist destinations, you can be sure that the 4**** hotel you booked will look exactly like in the description, and they usually provide quite a good service too, being Call-girl friendly.

The hotel may not look run-down, but the neighborhood usually does – one word of advice: whatever you do, NEVER run - our cobblestone pavements are death-traps – in the very least, you risk a broken heal or a sprang muscle – and you do NOT want to see the inside of a Poortuguese Hospital, trust me…

If you plan to rent a car and do some driving, be prepared to get lost frequently, either in the cities or in the country. The road signing is often conflicting or inexistent. On the other hand, if you find yourself lost in the sticks, or crashed against a large ruminant (beware of cows, and especially of bois a.k.a touros (bulls) around quaint sleepy towns), there is always a flee-infested stack of hay where you can spend the night (beware of the ruminant’s owner, though).

The countryside will often be monotonous, just like this guide to Poortugal, and you will believe you are in Australia, as Eucalyptus trees are all you seem to see. However, instead of Aussies, you’ll meet Alentejanos (laidback Portuguese Southerners) and instead of Roos, we have roaches.

Mind you, this is just a fictional account of what could go wrong on a trip to Portugal. I totally endorse Tourism in this country and recommend it to all foreigners, who don’t know better…
It’s a lovely country indeed.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

CSI - Colombus Secret Identity

Recovered from BLOG4DABOYZ
Recently, something we took for granted and that we were still teaching in Schools just a couple of months ago, all over the world, has been demystified - Pluto is no longer among the great planets of the galaxy, having been demoted to an embarrasing 2nd rank, as a dwarf planet.
What happened to Pluto, makes one think what other subjects could be reevaluated, at the light of science and knowledge today. However, that is not so easy as it sounds, for many a pompous scientist, professor, State or whatever, endorses or investes on the status quo and perpetuates the official version of the truth. If any old Indiana Jones attempts to dig deeper and rescue some secrets from the grave, he is going to meet with a lot of resistance and even conspiracy, in an attempt to cover up the new data…
You are still a bit skeptic, right now – great, that’s the spirit, if you really want to uncover the truth and separate the facts from the fantasies. One of the greatest shams ever accomplished, is that of the founder of America, the man some intentionally or by mistake called, Christopher Colombus. Historians have had more doubts than certainties about this figure, but despite the lack of evidence, many sold their version of the navigator – sold is really the word to remember here…So, if you never heard anything about a Portuguese “Colombus” or about the ongoing DNA tests, but would like to find out, then follow the


"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." —Washington, D.C., Aug. 5, 2004

"I'm also not very analytical. You know I don't spend a lot of time thinking about myself, about why I do things." — Aboard Air Force One, Jun 4, 2003

"The war on terror involves Saddam Hussein because of the nature of Saddam Hussein, the history of Saddam Hussein, and his willingness to terrorize himself." — Grand Rapids, Mich., Jan. 29, 2003

"We spent a lot of time talking about Africa, as we should. Africa is a nation that suffers from incredible disease." — Gothenburg, Sweden, Jun 14, 2001

"I just want you to know that, when we talk about war, we're really talking about peace."—"Washington, D.C. Jun 18, 2002

"I know what I believe. I will continue to articulate what I believe and what I believe — I believe what I believe is right." — Rome, Italy, Jul 22, 2001

"Do you have blacks, too?" — To Brazilian President Fernando Cardoso, Washington D.C., Nov. 8, 2001

"They misunderestimated me." — Bentonville, Ark., Nov. 6, 2000

"I know how hard it is for you to put food on your family." — Greater Nashua, N.H., Jan. 27, 2000

"Rarely is the questioned asked: Is our children learning?" —Florence, S.C., Jan. 11, 2000

Recovered from BLOG4DABOYZ

Letter From The Schoolmaster

Recovered from BLOG4DABOYZ May '05

One day an English Lady was looking for a room in Switzerland. She asked the local schoolmaster if he could recommend anything she might like. She finally decided on a quaint little apartment and returned to the Hotel at which she had been staying. When she got back she suddenly remembered she had not seen a Water Closet (commonly known in America as a bathroom). She immediately wrote back to the schoolmaster asking him if the apartment had a W.C. The schoolmaster upon receiving the letter did not understand the meaning of the abbreviation, W.C. He took it to the local priest to see if he knew the meaning, and they finally decided it must stand for Wayside Chapel. This is how the schoolmaster answered the letter.

Dear Madam:
I am happy to inform you that we do have a W.C. It is located nine miles from the house in a beautiful garden surrounded by a grove of pine trees. It seats 300 people, and is open Monday, Wednesdays and Sundays, which is not real handy if you are in the habit of going regularly.
My dearest ladyship, I suggest you go on Wednesdays for there is an organ accompaniment and even the most delicate sound is audible. The W.C. is very busy during the summer months, so I suggest you go early and get a seat even though there is plenty of standing room. Some families come with packed lunches and make a day of it.
I am proud to say my daughter was married in the W.C. It was there she met her husband for the first time. I remember the rush for seats that day. There were ten people in the seat I usually occupy, and it was very uncomfortable. We have been planning a bazaar, and the proceeds are to go toward the purchase of plush seats, even though they are not needed. We recently had a bell erected on our W.C. which rings every time someone enters. My wife is a very delicate woman and cannot get to the W. C. very often. It has been six months since she last went, and it hurts her very much to go.
Well, I must say good-bye for now, and if you are still interested, I shall be happy to save you a seat next to mine.
Sincerely, The Schoolmaster


The People's Independent Socialist State (PISS) , otherwise known as BLOGUISTAN, hereby makes known to all - arsetoctrats, peasants and remaining protozoa, that henceforth, reading of this blog is mandatory, under penalty of rectal impaling on a pineapple stake, followed by a finger-licking tea of nettles.
Long live Bloguistan.