<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799</id><updated>2011-09-19T04:41:12.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Máquinas de Idéias</title><subtitle type='html'>Esta é a nossa máquina. Ela não é convencional. Mais parece um bicho, de várias cabeças e formas. Um bicho de partes independentes, que se une com um propósito:
A divagação sobre o tudo, que se resume a nada.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>.Mira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459870137963758280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SLhf958IsDI/AAAAAAAAABs/DCnggqgZCR8/S220/mmmm.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-7999393007747083835</id><published>2010-12-21T06:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T06:11:30.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Não seja idiota.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Já vi muitos dos meus amigos divulgando um texto que pede para sermos idiotas. Que diz que a felicidade está em não pensar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não façam mais isso. A profundidade dos nossos pensamentos é o que nos separa dos animais. Além disso, só conheço dois tipos de pessoas felizes o tempo todo: crianças e deficientes mentais. E admitamos, ninguém vai pedir conselhos de qualidade de vida para eles..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Então, NÃO seja idiota! Seja chato, rancoroso, melancólico e infeliz. Barganhe com a tristeza, cresça ao sair do fundo do poço e abrace a integridade do seu ser. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nas palavras do poeta:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"...e se não houvesse o sofrer?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  e se não tivesse o chorar?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  Melhor era tudo se acabar!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-7999393007747083835?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/7999393007747083835/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=7999393007747083835' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7999393007747083835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7999393007747083835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2010/12/nao-seja-idiota.html' title='Não seja idiota.'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-3887589689414749413</id><published>2010-10-14T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T09:12:18.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Se quem somos está preso dentro da mente, porque os momentos mais importantes da vida são sentidos no peito?</title><content type='html'>O título já diz tudo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-3887589689414749413?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/3887589689414749413/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=3887589689414749413' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3887589689414749413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3887589689414749413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2010/10/se-quem-somos-esta-preso-dentro-da.html' title='Se quem somos está preso dentro da mente, porque os momentos mais importantes da vida são sentidos no peito?'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-3797557077249946507</id><published>2010-03-29T16:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T19:00:27.654-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E não é que é?</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wuH7vDrAHBE&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wuH7vDrAHBE&amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="220"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-3797557077249946507?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/3797557077249946507/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=3797557077249946507' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3797557077249946507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3797557077249946507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2010/03/e-nao-e-que-e.html' title='E não é que é?'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-7879705810492786031</id><published>2009-11-26T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T15:35:23.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Une Petite Histoire.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/Sw8QarlUj1I/AAAAAAAAACo/fCTvP29_Hzw/s1600/eiffel-tower-landmark-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 262px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408559728057159506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/Sw8QarlUj1I/AAAAAAAAACo/fCTvP29_Hzw/s320/eiffel-tower-landmark-4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pode se dar. O Universo paga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esta é a maior e melhor constatação que consegui fazer nesses 19quase20 anos de vida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Todas as vezes que me doei, que me entreguei e que coloquei meus objetivos defrontando minha vontade de ócio, todas as vezes fui recompensado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os mais céticos me dirão que o universo só existe, e nada escolhe. Outros dirão que apesar de todo esforço quebraram a cara. A estes, digo que não souberam esperar. Já quebrei a cara com meus objetivos, mas a vida sempre se revirou e tomou rumos ainda melhores que os previstos. Aprender a lidar com a tristeza é fundamental.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tristeza é igual chicléte. A gente tem que mastigar, até virar uma massa cinza e sem gosto. Daí a gente cospe fora.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aprendeu a fazer isso? Só tenho um último conselho camarada: 'Rala que rola!'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-7879705810492786031?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/7879705810492786031/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=7879705810492786031' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7879705810492786031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7879705810492786031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2009/11/une-petite-histoire.html' title='Une Petite Histoire.'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/Sw8QarlUj1I/AAAAAAAAACo/fCTvP29_Hzw/s72-c/eiffel-tower-landmark-4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-1747645572383786577</id><published>2009-11-08T16:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T16:31:13.805-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SvdiYFNTo1I/AAAAAAAAACg/uOTEBUCSflg/s1600-h/bolha+de+sabao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401894443908571986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SvdiYFNTo1I/AAAAAAAAACg/uOTEBUCSflg/s320/bolha+de+sabao.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...segura o pé que o samba vem aí com a bola toda desfilar na avenida, toda sua mocidade, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;velhidade&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;independente&lt;/span&gt; do sexo ou grau de loucura. vejo que loucura é muito mais um instrumento para ocultar nossas histórias mais escabrosas. tudo que se faz nos escombros das guerras sucessivas que vivemos desde que nascemos e vemos, ao vivo, a bomba explodindo o coração. o bomba &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;man&lt;/span&gt;. aquele homem bomba. aquele tiro que sai pela culatra da história. somos todos filhos e pais de uma decadência muito acima de nossos valores ou quereres. a coisa ta esquisita. reconheço em mim parte disso tudo, também exprimindo aqui toda minha dor com a perda de referenciais que nunca sei quais os mais adequados, quais os mais afeitos a meu gosto, meu profundo desgosto por tudo, meu desagrado por tudo, meu espanto com tudo. meu mundo se desfaz como bola de sabão: ilusão?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-1747645572383786577?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/1747645572383786577/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=1747645572383786577' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/1747645572383786577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/1747645572383786577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SvdiYFNTo1I/AAAAAAAAACg/uOTEBUCSflg/s72-c/bolha+de+sabao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-5409159153878634715</id><published>2009-10-19T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T13:15:58.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Action</title><content type='html'>"A idéia é manter-se num estado constate de partida, mas ficando sempre na chegada. Isso poupa apresentações e despedidas.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu e Ju e a quem mais interessar.&lt;br /&gt;Estamos de volta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-5409159153878634715?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/5409159153878634715/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=5409159153878634715' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5409159153878634715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5409159153878634715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2009/10/back-to-action.html' title='Back to Action'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-5787518828930006948</id><published>2009-03-22T01:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T02:10:33.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Interferindo na Vida Prática</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/ScX_1_vF4FI/AAAAAAAAADY/4yQ6Ul9dEFQ/s1600-h/146.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315936238287839314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/ScX_1_vF4FI/AAAAAAAAADY/4yQ6Ul9dEFQ/s320/146.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu sei que a gente se acostuma, mas nao devia. A gente se acostuma a morar em apartamentos de fundos e nao ter outra vista q nao as janelas ao redor. E pq nao tem vista, logo se acostuma a nao olhar pra fora. E pq nao olha pra fora, logo se acostuma a nao abrir d tdo as cortinas. E pq nao abre as cortinas, logo se acostuma a acender mais cedo a luz. E pq a medida q se acostuma, esquece o sol, esquece o ar, esquece a amplidao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A gent se acostuma a acordar d manha, sobressaltado pq está na hora. A tomar o café correndo pq está atrasado. A ler o jornal no carro pq nao pode perder o tempo da viajem. A comer sanduiches pq já é d noite. A coxilar no ônibus pq está cansado. A deitar e dormir pensando sem ter vivido o dia.&lt;br /&gt;A gent se acostuma a poluiçao, a luz artificial. Ao choque q os olhos levam na luz natural. As besteiras das musicas, as bactérias da água potável, a contaminaçao da água do mar. A luta. A lenta morte dos rios. E se acostuma a nao ouvir os passarinhos, a nao colher frutos do pé, a nao ter sequer uma planta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A gent se acostuma a coisas dmais pra nao sofrer. Em doses pequenas, tentando nao perceber, vai afastando uma dor aqui, um ressentimento ali, uma revolta acolá. Se o cinema ta cheio, a gent senta na primeira fila e torce um pouco o pescoço. Se a praia ta contaminada a gent só molha os pés e sua o resto do corpo. Se o trabalho ta duro, a gent se consola pensando no fim d samana. Se no fds a gent nao tem mto pra fazer, vai dormir mais cedo e ainda fica satisfeito pq tem sempre o sono atrasado.&lt;br /&gt;A gent se acostuma para nao ralar na aspereza, para preservar a pele. A gent se acostuma pra poupar a vida. Que aos poucos se gasta, e que, d tanto se acostumar, se perde em si mesma.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-5787518828930006948?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/5787518828930006948/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=5787518828930006948' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5787518828930006948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5787518828930006948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2009/03/interferindo-na-vida-pratica.html' title='Interferindo na Vida Prática'/><author><name>.Mira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459870137963758280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SLhf958IsDI/AAAAAAAAABs/DCnggqgZCR8/S220/mmmm.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/ScX_1_vF4FI/AAAAAAAAADY/4yQ6Ul9dEFQ/s72-c/146.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-7845671214654615882</id><published>2009-02-02T09:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T09:15:01.041-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...On Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SYcqBlsh-_I/AAAAAAAAAig/Wx_un5TYqlY/s1600-h/nasa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SYcqBlsh-_I/AAAAAAAAAig/Wx_un5TYqlY/s400/nasa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298249693411802098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;David Byrne, Tom Waits, Seu Jorge, Sizzla, Kanye West... são algumas das atrações do disco "The Spirit of Apollo" produzido pelo projeto N.A.S.A (North America South America), capitaneado pelo nova-iorquino Squeak E. e pelo paulistano Zegon. Ao todo são 17 faixas bem suingadas, cheias de samples do funk americano e do rico cenário nacional dos anos 70 e parcerias bem inusitadas como no caso do líder do Talking Heads, David Byrne, trabalhando ao lado do Chali 2na, ex-Jurassic 5. Foram longos dois anos de trabalho, vários canos (compreensível para um número tão grande de colaboradores) e várias sessões de estúdio. O disco ainda conta com a participação única de Ol' Dirty Bastard na faixa Strange Enough gravada duas semanas antes do integrante do Wu-Tang falecer. O lançamento do disco está previsto para o dia 17 desse mês e deve acompanhar de um DVD contendo um documentário sobre o projeto e clipes com roteiros de Spike Jonze (o mesmo diretor do clássico Sabotage dos Beastie Boys e do filme Quero ser John Malckovich) e direção de Syd Garon. Alguns já são possíveis de serem assistidos no YouTube.com. Não cabe um rótulo para o resultado. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://rapidshare.com/files/191264350/N.A.S.A.-The_Spirit_Of_Apollo-2009-CR.rar"&gt;Escutaí!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3k-12RjzZB0&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3k-12RjzZB0&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Abs!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-7845671214654615882?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/7845671214654615882/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=7845671214654615882' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7845671214654615882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7845671214654615882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2009/02/on-earth.html' title='...On Earth'/><author><name>Com CH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08194659770288355458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SMQ7s-aJOMI/AAAAAAAAAU0/4V6cSZmrrx8/S220/p%C3%A9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SYcqBlsh-_I/AAAAAAAAAig/Wx_un5TYqlY/s72-c/nasa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-1530052675280499565</id><published>2009-01-17T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T20:44:57.329-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ainda tá na cabeça..</title><content type='html'>Ah, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;já&lt;/span&gt; menti pra mim mesmo. Minha &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;postagem&lt;/span&gt; veio dias depois e quer saber? Que se &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;foda&lt;/span&gt; a cena. Ideias vieram e se foram, tiveram seus lugares tomados por outras novas numa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;superposição&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nosense&lt;/span&gt;. Bem, sabe qual vai ser a de hoje? Dicas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que filme viu essa semana?&lt;br /&gt;Um roteiro &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;bobinho&lt;/span&gt;, fazendo um papel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;engraçadinho&lt;/span&gt;, mas rolou e eu gostei. Charles &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bartlett&lt;/span&gt; é um moleque cheio de seus próprios problemas procurando conforto na popularidade. Quando é expulso de sua escola de garotos ricos e começa a se aventurar num lance &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;psiquiatrico&lt;/span&gt;, é onde rola o desenrolar do filme. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ei&lt;/span&gt;, vê &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;aê&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://w17.easy-share.com/1701563799.html"&gt;Charles &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Bartlett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Oooutra&lt;/span&gt; boa pedida foi a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;mixtape&lt;/span&gt; da batalha das quadras, lance de futebol &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;street&lt;/span&gt; feito pela &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;MTV&lt;/span&gt; e parceria com a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Nike&lt;/span&gt;. O produtor da &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;mixtape&lt;/span&gt; foi o Mano Brown e até que eu &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;axei&lt;/span&gt; legal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Pegaí&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;a href="http://www.nikefutebol.com/ojogoehoje"&gt;O Jogo é Hoje&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Porinquanto&lt;/span&gt; é isso &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;msmo&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Abs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-1530052675280499565?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/1530052675280499565/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=1530052675280499565' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/1530052675280499565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/1530052675280499565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2009/01/ainda-t-na-cabea.html' title='Ainda tá na cabeça..'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-9001229323103110949</id><published>2009-01-12T20:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T20:25:10.321-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah, Chega de Preguiça!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Prometo tentar &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;postagens&lt;/span&gt; diárias até o fim das férias!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E sem me dar &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;esporros&lt;/span&gt; no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;portuga&lt;/span&gt;, pois &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; tenho mais &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ideia&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;de onde temos ou deixamos de ter acentos! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segue um vídeo do Rotação 33 do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Kl&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Jay&lt;/span&gt;, que me foi introduzido por um dos nossos '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;postantes&lt;/span&gt;'.&lt;br /&gt;Nacional e Na Raça como a maioria, mesmo que não sejas um dos amantes do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Rap&lt;/span&gt; Nacional,&lt;br /&gt;vale a pena gastar 4 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;minutinhos&lt;/span&gt; conferindo a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Intro&lt;/span&gt; do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;trampo&lt;/span&gt; lançado em 2008.&lt;br /&gt;Amanhã vem um texto sobre como vejo a cena. Uma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;preview&lt;/span&gt; do texto vai seguir a linha que&lt;br /&gt;o Tom Zé me deixou em Parque Industrial e que aderi aqui e agora, ao pé da letra :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'É só requentar e usar, é só requentar e usar&lt;br /&gt;Pois temos o sorriso &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;engarrafado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já vem pronto e tabelado&lt;br /&gt;É só requentar e usar!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vbPXlk0ALDo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vbPXlk0ALDo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até mais!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-9001229323103110949?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/9001229323103110949/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=9001229323103110949' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/9001229323103110949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/9001229323103110949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2009/01/ah-chega-de-preguia.html' title='Ah, Chega de Preguiça!'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-2692376819507403380</id><published>2008-12-20T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T21:29:35.804-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Psicanálise + Filosofia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/40Z8gVqQ1eI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/40Z8gVqQ1eI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-2692376819507403380?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/2692376819507403380/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=2692376819507403380' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/2692376819507403380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/2692376819507403380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/12/psicanlise-filosofia.html' title='Psicanálise + Filosofia'/><author><name>Com CH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08194659770288355458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SMQ7s-aJOMI/AAAAAAAAAU0/4V6cSZmrrx8/S220/p%C3%A9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-2927329225907141246</id><published>2008-12-17T15:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T15:03:48.040-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Melhor comercial de 2008: Menina sapeca muda o clima em elevador!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eX5tSuz3Fvc&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eX5tSuz3Fvc&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cenas comoventes. Menina descobre fórmula para espalhar felicidade no elevador, nas ruas, em todos os lugares... Clique duas vezes sobre a setinha de "play" para assistir. Clique novamente para ir ao YouTube e enviar o vídeo como cartão de Natal e Boas Festas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-2927329225907141246?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/2927329225907141246/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=2927329225907141246' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/2927329225907141246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/2927329225907141246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/12/melhor-comercial-de-2008-menina-sapeca.html' title=''/><author><name>visinta.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02647387137694990999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QYRvBmRLz_Y/SRhg_rYRRZI/AAAAAAAAADA/NSm3SWYKrwA/S220/Zqcx0m9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-5709005881199329766</id><published>2008-11-23T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T19:52:07.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rebobine, por favor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SSodOgQTkhI/AAAAAAAAAfo/v2JgmfM_8Pg/s1600-h/be_kind_rewind.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SSodOgQTkhI/AAAAAAAAAfo/v2JgmfM_8Pg/s400/be_kind_rewind.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272058448804286994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Be Kind Rewind (Eua - 2008)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Dir: Michel Gondry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;PEEK YMMIJ TUO!! Se Mike (Mos Def - please Mos, keep rhymin') tivesse lido o recado ao contrário teria mantido Jimmy (Jack Black) longe da locadora e nós não teríamos Be Kind Rewind para assistir. Jimmy após sofrer um acidente tem sua cabeça magnetizada e acaba apagando todas as fitas da locadora onde Mike trabalha. Impossível repor todos os VHS de filmes das ultimas duas décadas em época de blu-rays e afins. A saída que os dois malucos encontram é de "suecar" os filmes, ou melhor, refilmar. Robocop, Ghostbusters, Conduzindo Miss Daisy, Rei Leão... da forma que podem. Para quem teve a mesma referência de filmes que eu tive na infância, certamente notará o carinho que Gondry trata cada filme. As produções são de morrer de rir. No fim das contas Mike e Jimmy viram as celebridades da pequena cidadezinha próxima de New York e conta com a população para a última cartada. Filme estranho para o diretor de O Brilho Eterno de uma Mente sem Lembrança, mas Block Party já não era? Incrível também não ver certas semelhanças com Saneamento Básico, O Filme. Mas sem dúvida uma boa comédia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-5709005881199329766?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/5709005881199329766/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=5709005881199329766' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5709005881199329766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5709005881199329766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/11/rebobine-por-favor.html' title='Rebobine, por favor'/><author><name>Com CH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08194659770288355458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SMQ7s-aJOMI/AAAAAAAAAU0/4V6cSZmrrx8/S220/p%C3%A9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SSodOgQTkhI/AAAAAAAAAfo/v2JgmfM_8Pg/s72-c/be_kind_rewind.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-2933245151319073520</id><published>2008-11-23T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T10:19:12.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>As 100 Faces...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/84eKQB2aQn8&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/84eKQB2aQn8&amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;color2=0x999999&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-2933245151319073520?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/2933245151319073520/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=2933245151319073520' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/2933245151319073520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/2933245151319073520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/11/as-100-faces.html' title=''/><author><name>visinta.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02647387137694990999</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QYRvBmRLz_Y/SRhg_rYRRZI/AAAAAAAAADA/NSm3SWYKrwA/S220/Zqcx0m9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-5393466344407003667</id><published>2008-11-07T07:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T08:02:49.824-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Large Hadron Collider (LHC)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NDfC7QHzMzQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NDfC7QHzMzQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Presente pro Rafa. Beat do Parteum, no mic Rincóm Sapiência e o "Discreto charme das partículas elementares".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-5393466344407003667?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/5393466344407003667/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=5393466344407003667' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5393466344407003667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5393466344407003667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/11/large-hadron-collider-lhc.html' title='Large Hadron Collider (LHC)'/><author><name>Com CH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08194659770288355458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SMQ7s-aJOMI/AAAAAAAAAU0/4V6cSZmrrx8/S220/p%C3%A9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-7364952471592741860</id><published>2008-11-04T10:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T16:39:24.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>By Rafa-Nietzche</title><content type='html'>O dogmatismo não permitiu a conquista da 'verdade' (o que quer que a verdade seja), pois mascarou as reais necessidades humanas, assim como fez o platonismo de mãos dadas com seu &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cristianismo&lt;/span&gt; eclesiástico, que nos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;embutiu&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ideia&lt;/span&gt; de alma querendo nos dar conforto, mas no final, o que foi dado era uma venda. A alma que era pra cair como um travesseiro de nossas culpas se transformou em um muro de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ignorâncias&lt;/span&gt;, não nos deixando ver o que realmente importa.&lt;br /&gt;Espíritos livres, como nós, não podem nunca se aquietar. Nosso arco deve estar sempre &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tensionado&lt;/span&gt; para que atiremos cada vez mais longe. Somos donos do arco, donos da &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;direção&lt;/span&gt; da seta e doravante, donos do alvo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SRCocjUzidI/AAAAAAAAACI/0PQw9mUpAKU/s1600-h/arco+e+flecha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264893172868418002" style="WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SRCocjUzidI/AAAAAAAAACI/0PQw9mUpAKU/s320/arco+e+flecha.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o que é o arco?? Ele é nossa necessidade de verdade. A necessidade humana da busca. Nossa curiosidade de vida. A nossa razão.&lt;br /&gt;A luta reside onde nosso arco se perde. Inventamos a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pólvora&lt;/span&gt; e facilitamos nossa escolha de ter o que precisamos. Ou é vida, ou é morte. Podemos escolher sem sequer doer. Mas um dia também inventamos a imprensa, que arrebanha todas as necessidades em uma só e cria este bando de zumbis ambulantes. A imprensa, ao contrário do que se pensa, é o oposto da liberdade. No fundo, a imprensa define o tamanho da jaula em que se deixa circular nosso querido &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;bicho&lt;/span&gt; homem. Nosso querido livre-arbítrio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-7364952471592741860?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/7364952471592741860/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=7364952471592741860' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7364952471592741860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7364952471592741860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/11/by-rafa-nietzche.html' title='By Rafa-Nietzche'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SRCocjUzidI/AAAAAAAAACI/0PQw9mUpAKU/s72-c/arco+e+flecha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-9175830965481099986</id><published>2008-10-24T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T07:29:40.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sobra la Luz</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oxH3SMYf9SI&amp;hl=es&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oxH3SMYf9SI&amp;hl=es&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Como venganza de la buena suerte o recompensa de la mala vida.&lt;br /&gt;De la cabeza me arrancaron cables pa meter las cosas que antes no me cabian...&lt;br /&gt;Y se me acercan las paredes y se me aleja la salida.&lt;br /&gt;Y poco a poco se hace derepente y me tropiezo con los dias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobra la luz que me hace ver&lt;br /&gt;todo lo que yo escondia...no se seguir, no se volver.&lt;br /&gt;sobra la luz cuando en la piel... nunca se siente el dia.&lt;br /&gt;Dime que tu, tu si me ves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una partida que juge tan fuerte que ahora es la vida la que esta partida.&lt;br /&gt;Una pared siempre que queiero ver,&lt;br /&gt;de que ahora estoy pa bajo y ahora estoy pa arriba.&lt;br /&gt;todas las cosas que al mar tiramos nos la devuelve siempre la marea.&lt;br /&gt;cuando mas tratas de olvidarlo con mas fuerza lo recuerdas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobra la luz que me hace ver&lt;br /&gt;todo lo que yo escondia...no se seguir, no se volver.&lt;br /&gt;sobra la luz cuando en la piel... nunca se siente el dia.&lt;br /&gt;Dime que tu, tu si me ves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como venganza de la buena suerte o recompensa de la mala vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-9175830965481099986?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/9175830965481099986/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=9175830965481099986' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/9175830965481099986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/9175830965481099986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post_24.html' title='Sobra la Luz'/><author><name>.Mira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459870137963758280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SLhf958IsDI/AAAAAAAAABs/DCnggqgZCR8/S220/mmmm.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-3766789548442567275</id><published>2008-10-16T20:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T20:13:03.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jogo de dança</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SPgAcXQ4dSI/AAAAAAAAAXg/mPHY_7IAYPk/s1600-h/temporada-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SPgAcXQ4dSI/AAAAAAAAAXg/mPHY_7IAYPk/s400/temporada-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257953052236215586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confesso que nunca assisti à uma apresentação oficial do Corpomancia, mas já vi ensaios e conheço o trampo de suas integrantes há um bom tempo. A idéia do jogo de dança é interessantíssimo. Não há probabilidade de uma apresentação ser igual a outra (Tá! Teatro tem dessas coisas, mas o desfecho de uma peça é o mesmo), o jogo é composto de dados, tutus (sabe aquelas saias de ballet? São elas que delimitam as equipes), tabuleiro e cartas que servem de base para o desafio a ser estabelecido.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cola lá!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-3766789548442567275?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/3766789548442567275/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=3766789548442567275' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3766789548442567275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3766789548442567275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/10/jogo-de-dana.html' title='Jogo de dança'/><author><name>Com CH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08194659770288355458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SMQ7s-aJOMI/AAAAAAAAAU0/4V6cSZmrrx8/S220/p%C3%A9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SPgAcXQ4dSI/AAAAAAAAAXg/mPHY_7IAYPk/s72-c/temporada-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-8253523557514305498</id><published>2008-10-08T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T20:54:31.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Matrix</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IEexx5BR5eY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IEexx5BR5eY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Je ne parle pas français. AINDA! Mas estou me esforçando. O clipe acima não está aí para ilustrar meus conhecimentos e sim para mostrar a junção de duas (ou mais) artes distintas. Vou direcionar minha idéia a imagem e música. Você não precisa falar o idioma francês para entender sobre o que a música se trata, está claro nas imagens. Provavelmente se você buscar a letra da música em português verá que sua primeira percepção baterá com a história do clipe, independetemente de qual visão crítica você tenha sobre a história (e nesse ponto falo de entrelinhas). Babel, ah tá bom...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-8253523557514305498?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/8253523557514305498/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=8253523557514305498' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/8253523557514305498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/8253523557514305498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/10/matrix.html' title='Matrix'/><author><name>Com CH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08194659770288355458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SMQ7s-aJOMI/AAAAAAAAAU0/4V6cSZmrrx8/S220/p%C3%A9.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-3633211314072203856</id><published>2008-10-03T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T13:42:53.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SOaDaeKBl5I/AAAAAAAAADA/avnYBoY2gDo/s1600-h/10.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253030506169210770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SOaDaeKBl5I/AAAAAAAAADA/avnYBoY2gDo/s320/10.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;consistência? que consistência?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;...se a cada virada de página as circunstâncias mudam, voam, nos deixando sem saber ao certo o que temos nas mãos, se é que temos algo que possamos chamar de 'meu'.&lt;br /&gt;Uma hora você pertence ao seu mundo blindado cor-de-azul-calcinha onde você entende e controla cada passo que o destino dá, quando de repente a sua bolha de sabão estoura e ai vc começa a enxergar que os sentimentos e as pessoas não são tão grandes assim, que tudo não passava de uma ilusão de ótica causada pelo efeito dos raios de sol no sabão que: coloria, aumentava e distorcia aquela traqüila rotina...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mas tudo bem, não acreditando em contos de fadas, você acaba entendendo que as coisas são assim mesmo e que não é um grande mal colocar os pés nos chão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Só que ai começam as dúvidas de quão real foram seus sentimentos, de quão palpável eram aquelas situações que te faziam acreditar na felicidade plena. Quando as coisas começaram a mudar? Será que era só você o que não enxergava? Mas de novo tudo bem, porque já passou mesmo e as coisas como são, bola pra frente, que agora vai ser melhor ainda!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Surge uma nova questão: para onde foi parar aquela imensidão que de tão grande não cabia no peito? Toda aquela sufocante realidade foi abandonada no fundo de uma gaveta junto com aquelas fotos velhas? Esquecida numa esquina onde encontrou um belo sorriso?&lt;br /&gt;E o novo sentimento igualmente radiante que surge em outra direçao, quão verdadeiro ele é? se sem um quarto da consistência do anterior porque se grita ao mundo seu valor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Agora me diz, que consistência tinha sua vida milimetrada se olhada agora? Que consistência tem sua vida hoje se você nem sabe ao certo o que quer para seu amanhã?&lt;br /&gt;Talvez as coisas sejam assim mesmo&lt;br /&gt;talvez a vida não passe de uma seqüencência de ciclos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-3633211314072203856?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/3633211314072203856/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=3633211314072203856' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3633211314072203856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3633211314072203856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/10/consistncia-que-consistncia_03.html' title=''/><author><name>.Mira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459870137963758280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SLhf958IsDI/AAAAAAAAABs/DCnggqgZCR8/S220/mmmm.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SOaDaeKBl5I/AAAAAAAAADA/avnYBoY2gDo/s72-c/10.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-3610179806244929733</id><published>2008-09-25T17:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T18:03:51.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ó da onde surgiu a banda falida Chico..</title><content type='html'>Dia de Churrasco, carne na boca, voz meio roca, breja na mente e violão com a gente..&lt;br /&gt;Deu o que tinha que dá..&lt;br /&gt;Boomshot Volume Único - Canção Sobre o Sol &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(cover iuhahuahhiuauiahuuhiahhiua)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/D_sOi6RrvCk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/D_sOi6RrvCk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-3610179806244929733?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/3610179806244929733/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=3610179806244929733' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3610179806244929733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3610179806244929733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/09/da-onde-surgiu-banda-falida-chico.html' title='Ó da onde surgiu a banda falida Chico..'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-4338960515055073440</id><published>2008-09-20T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T08:36:58.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E só pra relaxar um tico..</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed id="id1" name="id1" src="http://www.uhull.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/stuntpilot.swf" width="360" height="360" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" quality="high" wmode="window" menu="false"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-4338960515055073440?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/4338960515055073440/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=4338960515055073440' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/4338960515055073440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/4338960515055073440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/09/e-s-pra-relaxar-um-tico.html' title='E só pra relaxar um tico..'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-7855580393398301073</id><published>2008-09-19T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T18:17:01.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O que é importante??</title><content type='html'>Fique sem piscar. Aguarde alguns instantes e sinta o ardente desconforto provocado por essa simples abstenção. Ninguém se percebe piscar. Ninguém percebe o outro piscar...mas ficar sem piscar dói.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SNRJzZSgZaI/AAAAAAAAABw/DaoE0LtE5AE/s1600-h/DSC00039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247900613104133538" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SNRJzZSgZaI/AAAAAAAAABw/DaoE0LtE5AE/s320/DSC00039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;ahã...e aí?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O que nos faz acreditar que as coisas são importantes? Economicamente, nos valem produtos escassos. Piscar não é escasso, logo a desvalorização deste ato pode até ter origem econômica, mas o ponto é o seguinte: Há coisas que são essenciais, mas por estarmos acostumados a elas, acabamos por esquecer de sua importância.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SNRNy5sHGrI/AAAAAAAAACA/-DrRReFgwo8/s1600-h/Familia+02.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247905002668104370" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SNRNy5sHGrI/AAAAAAAAACA/-DrRReFgwo8/s320/Familia+02.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;"Ohh!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dia desses parei de piscar. Quando começou a doer, eu já lembrei. É muito importante!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-7855580393398301073?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/7855580393398301073/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=7855580393398301073' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7855580393398301073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/7855580393398301073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/09/o-que-importante.html' title='O que é importante??'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SNRJzZSgZaI/AAAAAAAAABw/DaoE0LtE5AE/s72-c/DSC00039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-851571285072841402</id><published>2008-09-17T11:14:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T11:37:10.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Morte e vida...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SNFNwtpQYRI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/ASQCKhVYG_o/s1600-h/mj.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SNFNwtpQYRI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/ASQCKhVYG_o/s400/mj.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247060540145033490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Antes de mais nada esqueçam tudo que já colocaram em sua cabeça sobre esse ser e apenas saiba que ele chegou onde chegou sem a ajuda de estupros publicitários &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esses dias navegando na rede me deparei com o seguinte questionamento: E se Michael Jackson tivesse morrido nos anos 80? Quem sabe após de Thriller?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caralho!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ele sem dúvida estaria entre os ícones mais respeitados da história da música. É como se Fidel tivesse ido ao invés do Che Guevara. Seria lenda. O artista que no topo, depois de emplacar "Off the wall" e "Thriller" castraria a expectativa de um próximo trabalho do mais alto nível, coisa que não aconteceu. O que assistimos depois, foi a imagem do cara decaindo mais e mais. Processos, escândalos, dívidas, casamentos bizarros, filhos bizarros e por fim, uma imagem bizarra. Nunca imaginei que o desejo de ver alguém morto fosse para o próprio bem dela. E para quem achar que é um exagero me responda quem você gostaria de ter como ídolo o Michael da foto a cima ou o da foto abaixo.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SNFL8QwDQFI/AAAAAAAAAWA/Q4NgSGyfGBo/s400/mj2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247058539524079698" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E aí?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pra finalizar: &lt;a href="http://link-protector.com/409923/"&gt;Michal Jackson - 25 Years Thriller&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Abs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-851571285072841402?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/851571285072841402/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=851571285072841402' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/851571285072841402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/851571285072841402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/09/morte-e-vida.html' title='Morte e vida...'/><author><name>Com CH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08194659770288355458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SMQ7s-aJOMI/AAAAAAAAAU0/4V6cSZmrrx8/S220/p%C3%A9.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5F2_AKXXZgM/SNFNwtpQYRI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/ASQCKhVYG_o/s72-c/mj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-649374794000066015</id><published>2008-09-15T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T13:13:43.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FALHA DE COMUNICAÇÃO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SM69IPTXH4I/AAAAAAAAACs/a-Nu6uMnxhg/s1600-h/IMG_2779.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246338565177548674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SM69IPTXH4I/AAAAAAAAACs/a-Nu6uMnxhg/s320/IMG_2779.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ninguém é SÓ o que parece&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Com o tempo, a gente acaba sintetizado tudo o que temos a dizer por preguiça de ter que se explicar, por medo de não ser compreendido; você sabe: dá muito trabalho expor toda aquela linha sucessiva de idéias que levaram à conclusão de que 'A + B não dá C, e que C não é o D que você sente quando quer o E mas precisa do C'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Nos acostumamos a responder "bem" quando nos perguntam como estamos, a soltar aquele sorriso quando somos apresentados, ou a dar um beijo em cada despedida; com isso acabamos mecanizando os tratamentos porque, imagina tudo o que teríamos que explicar se respondéssemos que os dias não estão dos melhores? Uma perda de tempo e paciência. Sem contar que é dolorido ter que abrir as janelas da alma para que ao final ninguém entenda o valor das cortinas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Mas o real problema começa quando resumimos nossa vida para nós mesmos, numa tentativa desesperada de ser intocável.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;E quando isso acontece, perdemos a noção do que realmente somos, pois já não é clara a barreira que divide o que sentimos, o que achamos que sentimos e o que deveríamos sentir. &lt;strong&gt;E mesmo que você não entenda agora: &lt;/strong&gt;é impossivel observar a vida projetada desde cima, que querer ser apenas racional é comprar uma briga com seu ego e que nós SOMOS o que PROVAMOS o gosto para fazer nossas ESCOLHAS e assim, permitirmos viver tudo aquilo que SENTIMOS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-649374794000066015?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/649374794000066015/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=649374794000066015' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/649374794000066015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/649374794000066015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/09/falha-de-comunicao.html' title='FALHA DE COMUNICAÇÃO'/><author><name>.Mira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459870137963758280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SLhf958IsDI/AAAAAAAAABs/DCnggqgZCR8/S220/mmmm.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SM69IPTXH4I/AAAAAAAAACs/a-Nu6uMnxhg/s72-c/IMG_2779.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-8469048288038953623</id><published>2008-09-14T12:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T12:43:00.082-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's True That We Love One Another</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;'-Why don't you go off and love yourself??&lt;br /&gt;-If I did that Holly, there won't be anything left to anybody else..'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XnKGWHqP5QE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XnKGWHqP5QE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-8469048288038953623?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/8469048288038953623/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=8469048288038953623' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/8469048288038953623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/8469048288038953623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-true-that-we-love-one-another.html' title='It&apos;s True That We Love One Another'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-4540241493537397359</id><published>2008-09-09T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T16:33:17.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E Para onde vai o meu Eu?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SMbO0sqp-II/AAAAAAAAAAU/VkL_nWbsOpI/s1600-h/homers_brain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244106220858112130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SMbO0sqp-II/AAAAAAAAAAU/VkL_nWbsOpI/s320/homers_brain.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grupos. Poucas relações humanas me incomodam mais que os grupos. Eles se formam sem ninguém saber como, se transformam e tomam decisões, sem haver uma única cabeça que se sobressai. Eu questiono: Onde estão os Eus individuais que compões os grupos estereotipados?&lt;br /&gt;A resposta é simples. Eles se perdem. Um traço marcante de nossos relacionamentos é como cedemos de nossas opiniões por uma aceitação dentro dos moldes formados pela sociedade. E nessa brincadeira de ceder e aceitar, os eus se perdem para dar espaço a uma nova personalidade, a personalidade do grupo. Respaldado por essa criação ele (o grupo) se locomove, se alimenta, joga sinuca e se embebeda em festas de axé, ainda que nenhum dos seus integrantes aprecie axé!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘..pra ser palhaço nem precisa do nariz vermelho, é só fazer o que não sabe sem se olhar no espelho..’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acreditando nessa teoria, aplico-a a grupos menores. Dessa forma, podemos apreciar empiricamente o porque da estranheza ao terminarmos um relacionamento. Cedemos aos nossos parceiros na proporção do quanto lhes gostamos. Acabando relacionamentos longos, não lembramos mais quem éramos sem o outro. Esquecemo-nos da naturalidade de ficarmos sozinhos e nos pegamos entristecidos no meio de um quarto vazio perguntando: Que faço sozinho? Cadê meu eu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Até onde ela pode me levar? Se é que ela pode me levar...’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O raciocínio é tão obvio que criamos até nossa sentença de pedra: Não mais cederemos! Nunca mais!&lt;br /&gt;Porém, de acordo com nossa experiência, nós sabemos que lutaremos pelo nosso eu, até que um outro eu valha a pena a nossa própria abdicação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-4540241493537397359?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/4540241493537397359/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=4540241493537397359' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/4540241493537397359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/4540241493537397359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/09/e-para-onde-vai-o-meu-eu.html' title='E Para onde vai o meu Eu?'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SMbO0sqp-II/AAAAAAAAAAU/VkL_nWbsOpI/s72-c/homers_brain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-3939622063556641907</id><published>2008-09-01T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:38:04.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Assim na Terra como no Céu (?)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SLylHN0-yPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/7yKKv0_FSqQ/s1600-h/imagem2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241245609741961458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="187" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SLylHN0-yPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/7yKKv0_FSqQ/s320/imagem2.bmp" width="290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me peguei pensando em uma situação hipotética com minha querida avó. Ela (como de costume) começa me pregando as verdades inexoráveis do mundo religioso, e eu (como também de costume) me perco em meus pensamentos no meio da'lição'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na cabeça do Rafa: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem realmente busca Deus? A Ciência ou a Teologia? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou convencido de que cientistas que buscam as origens e a razão de ser do universo estão mais próximos de alcançar esses feitos do que os religiosos,que crêem na opinião de alguém, escrita e traduzida em um livro que ninguém sabe de onde veio. Aos que olham para as origens, e procuram a razão de sermos quem somos, de onde viemos e para onde vamos, estes sim estão próximos de encontrar a resposta para a única questão que realmente importa em nossas vidas, que é saber se ela tem ou não um sentido.É ter a certeza se ela vale ou não a pena.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ccccff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'..e se tudo acabasse agora? Eu ia rindo, sabendo que não joguei meu tempo fora...'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Assim, se resolvermos a nossa principal questão filosófica,não mais importa a existência de Deus. Se soubermos intimamente o valor que nossa vida tem, que venha a morte,pois viver uma única vez já será o suficiente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-3939622063556641907?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/3939622063556641907/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=3939622063556641907' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3939622063556641907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/3939622063556641907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/09/assim-na-terra-como-no-cu.html' title='Assim na Terra como no Céu (?)'/><author><name>Rfa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08290771183375749261</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SM70xBoGeeI/AAAAAAAAABQ/HLcHs6MAOYM/S220/Rafa+%26+May+bj.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXgzYDPnFNE/SLylHN0-yPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/7yKKv0_FSqQ/s72-c/imagem2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-2694520748496625624</id><published>2008-08-28T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T20:06:06.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-78c2af9cfc9624cd" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D78c2af9cfc9624cd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330039309%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4A1ABA53294010C4E0DDCD5BB284AAABD59F4B22.7D09D89030FBA94BEB9A55CCB6CA9159DE16F38D%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D78c2af9cfc9624cd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DyQF7n1LuYtmezl9qqpB-Uual7wI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D78c2af9cfc9624cd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330039309%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4A1ABA53294010C4E0DDCD5BB284AAABD59F4B22.7D09D89030FBA94BEB9A55CCB6CA9159DE16F38D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D78c2af9cfc9624cd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DyQF7n1LuYtmezl9qqpB-Uual7wI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;nada como uma noite de verao&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-2694520748496625624?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/2694520748496625624/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=2694520748496625624' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/2694520748496625624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/2694520748496625624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/08/nada-como-uma-noite-de-verao.html' title=''/><author><name>.Mira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04459870137963758280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gnwCcZz-ozs/SLhf958IsDI/AAAAAAAAABs/DCnggqgZCR8/S220/mmmm.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1084249651871403799.post-5384516890905532176</id><published>2008-08-28T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T19:43:57.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3i2zTXINm4U/SLdhpoZc9GI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XiMJHyalnbY/s1600-h/r3.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239764059315565666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3i2zTXINm4U/SLdhpoZc9GI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XiMJHyalnbY/s400/r3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;pq é hora d escrever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;momentos d transiçao, momentos q nem sabemos o q queremos ou o q eh bom. A vida fica nos pregando peças e impossivel saber qual a próxima novidad. Sentimos medo e vontad d resolver tdo, acabar logo com isso, mas estamos presos as circunstancias nem sempre negociáveis. Pés e mãos atados numa vida q ao final nem parece nossa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1084249651871403799-5384516890905532176?l=maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/feeds/5384516890905532176/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1084249651871403799&amp;postID=5384516890905532176' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5384516890905532176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1084249651871403799/posts/default/5384516890905532176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maquinasdeideias.blogspot.com/2008/08/pq-hora-d-escrever-momentos-d-transiao.html' title=''/><author><name>Máquina!</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3i2zTXINm4U/SLdhpoZc9GI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XiMJHyalnbY/s72-c/r3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
