reached Inya-tsu-tsu, a native town situated about three miles to the north of a range of hills called Vunga. I am persuaded that this town is the place marked Vunge on Dr. Livingstone's map, through which he passed on his first journey across Africa, from the west to the east coast, and that the Umrenji river, which passes close to it, is Dr. Livingstone's Molinji. The Makololo escort naturally changed the Um into Mo, and the "r" into "1," and the Doctor adopted their pronuncia- tion. P"rom Inya-tsu-tsu we could see Mount Bungwi, a large hill near the Zambesi, quite plainly ; it lay a little to the east of north by compass, and looked about twenty- five miles distant. Up to this point we had followed one of the Portuguese trade routes, between Tete and Zumbo, but as we were getting too far north I determined to leave it and strike back towards the Mazoe ; so I now endeavoured to obtain guides direct to the country of Magomo, Eastern Mashunaland, or at any rate to some place in that direction. Ever since leaving Tete we had travelled through a very dry, burnt-up country, almost destitute of inhabitants, owing principally, I think, to the great scarcity of water, and pos- sibly also to the presence of tse-tse fly....I found on inquiry that three white Portuguese had visited this part of the country within the memory of Rusambo, but I met no chief beyond him who had ever seen a Portuguese. When I asked him if he had given his country to the Portuguese he said that he had submitted to Ignacio Jesus de Xavier, the black Capitao Mor of Baroma, in order to live, -and that he now paid him an annual tribute in corn and gold dust. This year, i 889, was the third in which he had paid tribute. Augusto told us that Rusambo's country had been given to Ignacio Jesus de Xavier as a praco by the Portuguese Government, on the usual terms ; that is to say, in consideration of the payment of an annual rental, and no questions asked as to the amount of taxes he exacted from the natives. I asked Augusto what would happen should Rusambo, or any native chief in a similar position, refuse to pay up ; and he replied that Colonel Ignacio,as he called him, was able to enforce payment, as he had a strong force of well-armed men in his service, who would either get the corn and gold dust required, or in default take women and children. This year Rusambo's people had had an abundant harvest, and the old chief had a fine lot of fat fowls. He is the only African native I have ever seen who fed his fowls. Every night they were all driven into a large wattle and daub hutch, and morning and evening they received an allowance of grain.

Hanging up in the kraal, one to each hut, were the wooden 
dishes in which the women wash alluvial gold. These dishes 
were all square with rounded corners, and as all the other 
wooden pans I saw for gold washing in many other kraals in 
the Mazoe valley were of exactly the same pattern, and as 
all their other household utensils are round, these wooden pans 
may possibly retain the form of the original pans for gold 
washing introduced into South-P^astern Africa by the gold- 
seeking nations of the ancient world in very remote times. 

On I st September we found that twenty-nine of our forty- 
two carriers from Tete had decamped during the night. Fear 
of punishment by the Portuguese authorities had alone restrained 
the others ; but I did not expect they would go many days 
farther with us, as they were such a miserable lot that although 
there was no earthly cause for alarm, I felt pretty sure that their 
fear of the unknown country and unknown people on ahead 
would soon outweigh their fear of deserting us and running the 
risk of punishment at Tete. We at once set to work collecting 
porters from the surrounding villages, and by the evening had 
enlisted twenty-two to carry twenty-two loads for liberal pay- 
ment as far as Maziwa's, a chief whose town is three days' 
journey (for men carrying loads) from here. The remaining 
loads we left in charge of Rusambo. 

On 5th September, after having travelled through a very 
dry stony country, and passed the villages of two miserable 
famine -stricken chiefs, Chibonga and Matopi, we reached 
Maziwa's. 

During the last few days we had shot a little game and 
seen fresh rhinoceros tracks, and near Maziwa's village we saw 
much spoor of elands, Burchell's zebras, sable antelopes, koo- 



XV TROUBLE WITH OUR CARRIERS 283 

doos, etc. We camped at the foot of the hill on which Maziwa's 
village was situated, but there were two or three more villages 
about, all subject to the same chief and all perched on the 
summits of high rocky hills. The people here had very little 
food to sell, and appeared very poor and famine- stricken. 
Maziwa is an independent chief on a very small scale, being 
beyond Portuguese influence, either direct or indirect. Yet 
this is scarcely a correct statement, as he has been raided upon 
by one of the black CapitSo Mors from the north, who are 
supposed to be subject to the Portuguese. 

At this place we had a lot of trouble. In the first place 
Rusambo's men, having fulfilled their bargain, returned home, 
and we were left with twenty-two loads for which we wanted 
carriers, whom I thought we should have obtained from Maziwa 
without difificulty. However, Maziwa turned out to be singularly 
avaricious and grasping, even for a Kafir, and I never knew a 
Kafir yet, whose mind has been uninfluenced by contact with 
Europeans, who, when the opportunity presented itself, failed 
to make a large profit out of another man's necessity. 
Believing he had got us in a fix, Maziwa thought he would be 
able not only to skin us, but to pick the flesh from our bones, 
figuratively speaking. He demanded ten yards of calico per 
man for carrying our loads a distance of less than twenty 
miles, and wanted a large present for himself into the bargain. 
It was impossible to comply with this exorbitant demand, as, 
had we done so, the next petty chief, when he learned what 
Maziwa had screwed out of us, would have wanted at least as 
much to put us a short distance farther on our journey, and in 
this way in a very short time we should have been left without 
any goods at all. During the day I did a lot of tallcing to 
Maziwa ; but he remained obdurate, and was deaf to all argu- 
ment, persuasion, sarcasm, invective, and insult, for he thought 
we were in his power and would have to agree to his terms, 
however exorbitant. One of his remarks was, that an elephant 
had come and died in his country, and he and his people 
would fatten on the carcase. 

In the evening, our thrice-accursed Shakundas from Tete, 
who were probably in communication with Maziwa, thinking 
that now we were in a mess they would be able to make 



284 TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE IN AFRICA chap. 

capital out of our misfortunes, came up in a body and 
demanded ten yards of calico per man to carry their loads 
two days' journey farther, threatening to leave in the night if 
we did not comply with their request. Though boiling over 
with indignation we were obliged to talk quietly with them, 
and argue and temporise, for if these fourteen men had left us, 
plantes la, with only Augusto and five boys, we could never 
have removed the greater part of our thirty-seven loads, and 
the expedition would have come to an end. After much 
discussion we gave the Shakundas each a common shirt, 
and they then promised to cany our goods as far as we 
wanted to go. 

The next morning Maziwa came down to our camp with a 
good many of his tribe, but we found him even more unreason- 
able than he had been the previous day, and after a short and 
.stormy interview he again retired to his kraal. I now resolved 
to destroy a portion of our goods, and to push on without 
Maziwa's aid. With the fourteen Shakundas and our five boys 
(three from Quillimani and Augusto's two), we had nineteen 
carriers for thirty-seven loads. I now went through every- 
thing and made up nineteen loads of what we most required, 
and then collected the remaining things, principally trading 
goods and provisions, about seven hundredweights altogether, 
into an immense heap. We then collected large quantities of 
fuel and set the pyre alight. It seemed a pity to sacrifice 
goods that had been carried so far, but it was much better 
than submitting to the extortions of a 

MISERABLE SAVAGE .... 

 During this operation Maziwa and his greedy clansmen stood 
looking on from the hill, and the old chief, as he saw the 
calico and blankets which he coveted being licked up and 
destroyed by the flames, lost all his self-possession, and 
declaimed loudly against us from his coign of vantage. I did 
not understand him, but Augusto told us that he said we were 
his enemies, and that every one was his enemy who came from 
Tete ; that if he had men enough he would kill us and seize 
our goods, and finally threatened that if we went on he would 
follow and raise the country on us. As we had four good 
breech-loading rifles, and all our Shakundas were armed with 
muskets belonging to Senhor Martins Da Gama Baixa..

And, after such barbarous treatment as this, can the world blame me, when I ask, What is become of the freedom of an Englishman? And where is the liberty and property that my old glorious friend came over to assert? We have drove popery out of the nation, and sent slavery to foreign climes. The arts only remain in bondage, when a man of science and character shall be openly insulted in the midst of the many useful services he is daily paying to the publick. Was it ever heard, even in Turkey or Algiers, that a state- astrologer was banter’d out of his life by an ignorant impostor, or bawl’d out of the world by a pack of villanous, deep-mouth’d hawkers? Though I print almanacks, and publish advertisements; though I produce certificates under the ministers and church-wardens hands I am alive, and attest the same on oath at quarter-sessions, out comes a full and true relation of the death and interment of John Partridge; Truth is bore down, attestations neglected, the testimony of sober persons despised, and a man is looked upon by his neighbours as if he had been seven years dead, and is buried alive in the midst of his friends and acquaintance. Now can any man of common sense think it consistent with the honour of my profession, and not much beneath the dignity of a philosopher, to stand bawling before his own door? – Alive! Alive ho! The famous Dr. Partridge! No counterfeit, but all alive! – As if I had the twelve celestial monsters of the zodiac to shew within, or was forced for a livelihood to turn retailer to May and Bartholomew Fairs. Therefore, if Her Majesty would but graciously be pleased to think a hardship of this nature worthy her royal consideration, and the next parliament, in their great wisdom cast but an eye towards the deplorable case of their old philomath, that annually bestows his poetical good wishes on them, I am sure there is one Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq; would soon be truss’d up for his bloody predictions, and putting good subjects in terror of their lives: And that henceforward to murder a man by way of prophecy, and bury him in a printed letter, either to a lord or commoner, shall as legally entitle him to the present possession of Tyburn, as if he robb’d on the highway, or cut your throat in bed

when you should have been in your coffin this three hours? In short, what

with undertakers, imbalmers, joiners, sextons, and your damn’d elegy hawk-

ers, upon a late practitioner in physick and astrology, I got not one wink

of sleep that night, nor scarce a moment’s rest ever since. Now I doubt not

but this villainous ‘squire has the impudence to assert, that these are en-

tirely strangers to him; he, good man, knows nothing of the matter, and

honest I

saac Bickerstaff, I warrant you, is more a man of honour, than to be

an accomplice with a pack of rascals, that walk the streets on nights, and

disturb good people in their beds; but he is out, if he thinks the whole world

is blind; for there is one John Partridge can smell a knave as far as Grubstreet,

– tho’ he lies in the most exalted garret, and writes himself ‘Squire: – But

I’ll keep my temper, and proceed in the narration.

I could not stir out of doors for the space of three months after this, but

presently one comes up to me in the street; Mr Partridge, that coffin you

was last buried in I have not been yet paid for: Doctor, cries another dog,

How d’ye think people can live by making of graves for nothing? Next

time you die, you may e’en toll out the bell yourself for Ned. A third

rogue tips me by the elbow, and wonders how I have the conscience to

sneak abroad without paying my funeral expences. Lord, says one, I durst

have swore that was honest Dr. Partridge, my old friend; but poor man,

he is gone. I beg your pardon, says another, you look so like my old ac-

quaintance that I used to consult on some private occasions; but, alack,

he’s gone the way of all flesh – Look, look, look, cries a third, after a

competent space of staring at me, would not one think our neighbour the

almanack-maker, was crept out of his grave to take t’other peep at the stars

in this world, and shew how much he is improv’d in fortune-telling by

having taken a journey to the other?

Nay, the very reader, of our parish, a good sober, discreet person, has

sent two or three times for me to come and be buried decently, or send

him sufficient reasons to the contrary, if I have been interr’d in any other

parish, to produce my certificate, as the act requires. My poor wife is

almost run distracted with being called Widow Partridge, when she knows

its false; and once a term she is cited into the court, to take out letters of

administration. But the greatest grievance is, a paultry quack, that takes

up my calling just under my nose, and in his printed directions with N.B.

says, He lives in the house of the late ingenious Mr. John Partridge, an

eminent practitioner in leather, physick and astrology.

But to show how far the wicked spirit of envy, malice and resentment

can hurry some men, my nameless old persecutor had provided me a

monument at the stone-cutter’s and would have erected it in the parish-church; and this piece of notorious and expensive villany had actually

succeeded, had I not used my utmost interest with the vestry, where it was

carried at last but by two voices, that I am still alive. That stratagem fail-

ing, out comes a long sable elegy, bedeck’d with hour-glasses, mattocks,

sculls, spades, and skeletons, with an epitaph as confidently written to

abuse me, and my profession, as if I had been under ground these twenty

years

 

I shall demonstrate to the judicious, that France and Rome are at the bottom of this horrid conspiracy against me; and that culprit aforesaid is

a popish emissary, has paid his visits to St. Germains, and is now in the measures of Lewis XIV. That in attempting my reputation, there is a general massacre of learning designed in these realms; and through my sides

there is a wound given to all the Protestant almanack-makers in the universe.

Vivat Regina.

I LAUGH UNTIL I SLEEP AND I SLEEP UNTIL I WAKE....IMPOSSIBLE TASK'S

If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you, and you'll never learn.

RAY BRADBURY, Fahrenheit 451

Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness.

RAY BRADBURY, attributed, Emily the Strange: Piece of Mind

The television, that insidious beast, that Medusa which freezes a billion people to stone every night, staring fixedly, that Siren which called and sang and promised so much and gave, after all, so little.

RAY BRADBURY, attributed, Ray Bradbury: Uncensored!

I am the dreamer and the doer

I the hearer and the knower

I the giver and the taker

I the sword and the wound of sword.

If this be true, then let sword fall free from hand.

I embrace myself.

I laugh until I weep

And weep until I smile ...

RAY BRADBURY, Christ, Old Student in a New School

Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I'm one of them.

RAY BRADBURY, Fahrenheit 451

I often use the metaphor of Perseus and the head of Medusa when I speak of science fiction. Instead of looking into the face of truth, you look over your shoulder into the bronze surface of a reflecting shield. Then you reach back with your sword and cut off the head of Medusa. Science fiction pretends to look into the future but it’s really looking at a reflection of what is already in front of us. So you have a ricochet vision, a ricochet that enables you to have fun with it, instead of being self-conscious and superintellectual.

RAY BRADBURY, The Paris Review, spring 2010

Science-fiction balances you on the cliff. Fantasy shoves you off.

RAY BRADBURY, introduction, The Circus of Dr. Lao

If you can't read and write you can't think. Your thoughts are dispersed if you don't know how to read and write. You've got to be able to look at your thoughts on paper and discover what a fool you were.

RAY BRADBURY, Salon.com, Aug. 29, 2001

Digression is the soul of wit. Take the philosophic asides away from Dante, Milton or Hamlet's father's ghost and what stays is dry bones.

RAY BRADBURY, Coda

People ask me to predict the future, when all I want to do is prevent it.

RAY BRADBURY, Beyond 1984: The People Machines

Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you're there.

RAY BRADBURY, Fahrenheit 451

Read more at http://www.notable-quotes.com/b/bradbury_ray_ii.html#okwGW34xrpUDX5LB.99

EXTINCTION IS THE NORMAL WAY THE THINGS GOING THE TSÉ-TSÉ IN COLORADO ARE THE HAMMER OF GOD FOR HORSES IN OLIGOCENIC NORTH AMERICA ? 2003 PAPER

to prove that the fossil Glossina of the Colorado. THE HORSE NEMESIS OF Oligocene were especially closely related to the modern fusca group 

NEW DISEASES ARE AFTER US ?

Nº DE DENTES CARIADOS NA ANTIGUIDADE DE 2 A 8 DENTES 

ACTUAL 24 DENTES....

BODY COUNT NEANDERTHAL 80% OF THE NON LIVING AT AGES BEFORE 32.....

100% ARE DEAD BEFORE THE 51TH BIRTHDAY.....

CROMAGNON 90% AT 50 YEARS ...ANGLO-SAXONS 81% DEAD BEFORE 41 YEARS

97.5% DEAD BEFORE 51.....



EXTINCTION  - THE HAMMER OF GOD IS UPON US ....

THE DISEASES TRANSMISSION BY TABANIDS: WHEN

THEY BEGAN? ARE THE TABANIDS REALLY GUILTY?

Several tabanid species in the extant fauna are vectors 

for disease-producing organisms that affect man and

animals. 

Bacteria, viruses, rickettsiae, Protozoa, and filarial worms can be transmitted by them, causing such

diseases as anthrax, tularemia, anaplasmosis, various

forms of trypanosomiasis, Q fever, and filariasis 

(Pechuman & Teskey 1981). 

However, if tabanids are directly guilty

for all these diseases, it is not consensual.

Tularemia was discovered in the United States, transmitted, as initially thought, by the tabanid Chysops discalis

Williston. Today we know that the true culprit is

an acarine, and this disease is not reported or is unknown

for Brazil (Martins 1940), although several Neotropical

tabanids have been found infected by similar acarines.

Rickettisiae, for example, was recently addressed (Gray

1998) but again, no proof of responsibility for tabanid-

associated diseases was directly demonstrated.

The Fossil Tabanids (Diptera Tabanidae): When They Began to

Appreciate Warm Blood and When They Began Transmit

Diseases?

Rafael Gioia Martins-Neto

Sociedade Brasileira de Paleoartropodologia, Universidade Guarulhos, Rua Arnaldo Vitaliano 150, apto 81, 14091-220

Ribeirão Preto, SP, Brasil

A discussion of the known fossil tabanids (Diptera Tabanidae) is presented based on fossil evidence. This

includes the origin of the hemathophagy in the Brachycera, more specifically for tabanids. Several tabanid species

in the extant fauna are vectors for disease-producing organisms that affect humans and animals. Bacteria, viruses,

rickettsiae, protozoa, and filarial worms can be transmitted by them, causing such diseases as anthrax, tularemia,

anaplasmosis, various forms of trypanosomiasis, Q fever, and filariasis. However, if tabanids are directly responsible

for all of these diseases is not consensual and the known fossil evidence is presented here.

Key words: Diptera - fossil Tabanidae - paleoparasitology - blood-suckers evolution - diseases in the past

The bloodsucking insects of the orthorraphous fami-

lies of Diptera are known from the Early Cretaceous and

include Psychodida, Corethrellidae, Culicidae (with some

doubts), Ceratopogonidae, Simuliidae, Rhagionidae, Ta-

banidae, and Athericidae (Ansorge 1994, Lukashevich &

Mostovski et al. 2001).

Although brachycerous flies are abundant in the fos-

sil record, with several families recorded (Apystomyiidae,

Archocyrtidae, Asilidae, Eremochaetidae, Hilarimorphidae,

Kovalevisargidae, Mythicomyiidae, Nemestridae,

Protapioceridae, Raghionempididae, Empididae,

Scenopinidae, Stratyomyidae, Therevidae, Vermileonidae,

Xylomyidae, and Xylophagidae), since the Middle Juras-

sic (Mostovski 1998), tabanids are relatively scarce in the

fossil record (mainly in Mesozoic).

The older record of a true tabanid came from the Up-

per Jurassic deposits of China (Ren 1998), with three gen-

era and three species, all related to the flower feeders,

Pangoniinae. The Cretaceous record comprises specimens

from the Lower Cretaceous of England (Coram et al. 1995)

and Spain (Lukashevich & Mostovski 2001), and a pos-

sible specimen in the Cretaceous of South Africa

(Mostovski 1998). For the Cenozoic, the following named

species are known: from the Miocene of Florissant, Colo-

rado, respectively named

Tabanus parahippi

Cockerell

1909,

Tabanus hipparionis

Cockerell 1909, and

Tabanus

merychippi

Cockerell 1917; from the North American Oli-

gocene,

Silvius merychippi

Melander 1947; from the Ger-

many Oligocene,

Tabanus statzi

Moucha 1972; from the

French Olicocene,

Aemodipsus bornensis

Maneval 1936

and

Chrysops seguyi

Piton 1940; from the Swittzerland

Oligocene,

Hexatoma oeningensis

(Herr 1864) Evenhuis

1994, and

Tabanus vectensis

Cockerell 1921, for the En-

gland Eocene/Oligocene. From the Baltic amber (Eocene/

Oligocene),

Stenotabanus brodzinskyi

Lane, Poinar &

Fairchild 1988 and

Stenotabanus woodruffi

Fairchild &

Lane 1989. Tabanidae were also found in Oligocene inclu-

sions from Chiapas, Mexico (Morales & Pimentel 2001).

For the Pliocene from Poland, Europe, North Africa and

Morocco the species

Tabanus sudeticus

Zeller 1842 was

recorded.

An unnamed species was assigned to the genus by

Grabenhorst 1985, for the German Pliocene. Scudder (1895)

recorded a possible new genus and species of tabanid

from the Miocene Oeningen deposits of Switzerland.

Undescribed Tabanidae have been noted from the Eocene

of the Green River Formation (Bradley 1931, Swanson &

Lewis 1993). The Cretaceous genus

Protabanus

, described by Hong (1982) has been shown by Grimaldi (1990)

and Zhang (1993) to belong to the order Homoptera, where

it has been placed in the cicadoid family Tettigarctidae by

Hamilton (1992) in his catalog of Mesozoic Homoptera

genera (see also Evenhuis 1994). The species of

Haematopota pinicola

Stuckenberg 1975) as from Baltic amber has been

shown by Lewis et al. (1977) to actually be a copal inclu-

sion from an unknown locality in Africa. An older unde-

termined compression fossil of Tabanidae from the Middle

Jurassic Mont-Saint-Marin deposit in Luxemburg was

noted by Maurice (1882). There are Cretaceous genera

described by Kovalev (1986) from Mongolia, but are

treated by Evenhuis (1994) as unplaced in Tabanoidea.

THE BRAZILIAN FOSSIL DIPTEROFAUNA

The presently known Brazilian dipterofauna came just

from three localities: Santana Formation (Lower Cretaceous,

Northeast Brazil), Tremembé Formation and Entre-Córregos Formation 

(both Oligocene, Southeast BraziL

 

 They include considerations of trophical

ecology such as: bacteriovore, algivore-omnivore-preda-

tor, fungivore, plant parasite, entomopathogen, inverte-

brate parasite, and vertebrate parasite. They concluded

that animal parasitism arose independently at least four

times, and plant parasitism three times. Strongylida is an

exclusively vertebrate parasite group, as well as

Ascaridina, Spirurida, Oxyurida, Rhabditidoidea,

Strongyloididade and Trichocephalida. Exclusively

entomopathogen are the groups heterorhabditids and

Steinemematidae. Exclusively invertebrate parasites are

the Rhigonematida and Mermithida. There is controversy

about the phylogenetic tree and the position of the clades,

and the relationships of the main clades and characters

used (Voronov et al. 1998). But, for the scope of this

paper, of all 55 branches of Blaxter et al. (1998), just two –

Rhigonematida and Mermithida – are exclusively inverte-

brate parasites. The former was represented in the fossil

record, parasiting insects, including tabanids, as briefly

documented below.

Voigt (1957) described an Eocene larval nematode en-

cysted in a muscle tissue of a beetle. Larsson (1978) dis-

cussed parasitic nematodes within chironomids from the

Baltic amber mermithids associated with dipterans, includ-

ing an adult limoniid fly and a female mosquito. Taylor

(1935) earlier summarized our knowledge of fossil nema-

todes, including a mermithid parasite within a German Baltic

amber Oligocene chironomid (see also Boucot 1990). Statz

(1944) presented mosquitoes and potential disease vec-

tors (Culicidae in mammals) from de Germany Oligocene.

Cockerell (1908) and Brues (1923) report

Glossina

(Muscidae) in beds of Oligocene age (fossils nematode trail..

“Звездните рейнджъри” на Робърт Хайнлайн е носителка на куп награди за научна фантастика и се счита за истинска класика в жанра. Предполагам, че за много хора е така. За мен обаче това беше една адски скучна и мудна книга. Но всичко по реда си. Спомням си как навремето четох едно интервю с Пол Верховен, в което той каза, че така и не е дочел книгата. Имаше нещо от сорта, че след първите 2-3 глави той се чувствал едновременно отегчен и депресиран. Много се чудих защо така. Сега вече знам! Историята, доколкото такава може да се намери, е проста – War is not violence and killing, pure and simple; war is controlled violence, for a purpose. The purpose of war is to support your government’s decisions by force. The purpose is never to kill the enemy just to be killing him . . . but to make him do what you want him to do. Not killing . . . but controlled and purposeful violence. But it’s not your business or mine to decide the purpose of the control. It’s never a soldier’s business to decide when or where or how—or why—he fights; that belongs to the statesmen and the generals. The statesmen decide why and how much; the generals take it from there and tell us where and when and how. We supply the violence; other people—‘older and wiser heads,’ as they say—supply the control.” Хуан “Джони” Рико е богато хлапе, което завършва гимназия и се записва за военна служба, напълно против волята на своите родители, които искат той да постъпи в хубав и скъп колеж. Започва неговата тежка и адски опасна тренировка като част от наземната пехота. По време на двете години, които тя трае, избухва война срещу така наречените Дървеници – насекомоподобни създания от друга планета, които искат да изтрепят човечеството. И точно когато смятате, че ще започне екшънът и Джони ще се изправи срещу буболечките, той постъпва отново в училище – този път за висши офицери, защото иска да гради военна кариера, а не само да отбие номера и да спечели правото да е гражданин. Всъщност в това се изразява и цялата книга. От началото до края тя е една открита пропаганда на Хайнлайн и неговите идеи. Тук говорим за възгледите на автора за милитаристично управление, за сексистко отношение, за разделението на хората и техните права.

Starship Troopers by Robert A. Heinlein (RC2012 Пуснато от: Silentium   в

War is not violence and killing, pure and simple; war is controlled violence, for a purpose. The purpose of war is to support your government’s decisions by force. The purpose is never to kill the enemy just to be killing him . . . but to make him do what you want him to do. Not killing . . . but controlled and purposeful violence. But it’s not your business or mine to decide the purpose of the control. It’s never a soldier’s business to decide when or where or how—or why—he fights; that belongs to the statesmen and the generals. The statesmen decide why and how much; the generals take it from there and tell us where and when and how. We supply the violence; other people—‘older and wiser heads,’ as they say—supply the control.”

 

Somewhere on the street of dreams

Животът може да е шарен, розов, сив или черен - зависи кои очила ще си сложиш. :-)

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събота, 24 май 2014 г.

кОлтурно ми е

Ставам необичайно рано за неработна събота. Слънчево ми е едно такова и някак празнично. Докато пия кафе, не регистрирам никакви знамена по околните тераси. Все пак днес не е Трети март, че да се пъчим какви патриоти сме (най-вече на маса, но това са незначителни подробности). От околните няколко училища странно не се дочува нито врява, нито фанфарна музика. Решавам, че съм закъсняла и всички са се изнесли към центъра. Който всъщност е на десетина минути пеша и всякакви прояви достигат звуково у нас. 

Покрай идеята да се смеся с празничната тълпа решавам да свърша и нещо полезно. Симпатичните малки улични библиотеки са ми стара мечта. В някои от по-белите (и вероятно по-културни) държави дори си имат указател. Ясно е, че у нас ще виреят трудно, дори никак. Книгите ще отидат или за подпалки, или при хора, които няма да им се радват и да ги четат, а ще си ги приберат просто така, защото са аванта. 

 

улични библиотеки със свободен достъп

Когато BookCrossing направи плахите си стъпки и в нашия замиращ и закостенял град, бях много щастлива, че все пак има будни хора и това също е начин да прочетеш търсена книга или да оставиш твоите да намерят читателите си. Събрах днес приготвените за целта и тръгнах през пустите, неукрасени и тихи училища към BookCrossing зоните, разположени в центъра, на стотина метра една от друга. Книгата, която отдавна дебна, е обявена все още като налична и в трите.

Спирка първа - библиотеката. При предното ми ходене на стелажчето отпред скучаеха две самотни книжки и извадиха още, след като се оказа, че моята я няма, но пък имало други, които никой не търсел. Днес стелажчето го нямаше, зад стъклото на заключената врата самотен си стоеше само плакатът. Принципно събота е работен ден за библиотеката, но защо трябва и днес, в деня на българската просвета, култура и писменост точно те да отварят?! Хайде сега...

Спирка втора - пред театъра. Там никога не съм засичала и следи от инициативата, дори плакат няма. И на днешния празник - също. Заключени врати, малкото свободно от масите на денонощния клуб място отпред е заето от сергии за сребърна бижутерия и баби, продаващи хартиени знаменца. Продължавам.

Спирка трета - много вървежно кафе на централна пешеходна улица. Както винаги, е претъпкано с майки, малки деца, които се чудят какво да правят в блъсканицата и как да се разпищят, за да ги изведат от там, хора, седнали да видят свят и светът тях да види. Абсолютно нетактично спирам устрема на една сервитьорка, сладка блондинка с празна табла. 

Къде ви е буккросинг зоната, питам. 

Куе?!? 

Повтарям по-високо и по-ясно, може пък да имам трудности с изказа. 

Ни въ ръзбиръм, ни знам дажи квой туй, ни съм чувълъ...

И ме гледа с едни невинни, големи, учудени очи, сякаш питам къде копаят фосили или къде са си скрили андронния колайдер...

Място, където се оставят и намират книги, обявено е навсякъде ... започвам плахо да обяснявам по възможно най-елементарния начин.

Пффффф ми тъй къжети, илати да ви гу пукажъ!

Води ме до вратата и ми сочи с пръст скромно стелажче, на което се мъдрят разпилени куп флаери и една единствена нечитаема книга на английски, тип учебник. Оставих моите набързо и ловко, без да смущавам кипящия в заведението живот и се изнесох.

На тротоара прибират тонколоните от празничното мероприятие, което нито чух, нито видях по време на дългата ми разходка. Мирише на скара и дюнери. Жената в цветарския магазин се учуди, че си купувам цвете просто така, за вазата. Книжарниците пустеят, заведенията преливат. Облаци от букети, партийни знаменца (дори днес!) и балони - апотеоз на кича. Мъже по анцузи, шорти или прицвъкнали шкембенца и паласки в костюми, ученици в униформи и с отегчени физиономии, влачени в тълпата деца, омазани със сладолед, ръсещи пуканки... И невероятно количество нелепо изглеждащи жени, в бойните окраски на тежък вечерен грим и тоалети между бални и битпазарски, с платинета, вафли, кичури и други коафьорски изкуства в косите, пълен кич. Правя разлика между поддържаната и леко гримирана жена и крещящо, гротескно наплесканата. И за пореден път се убеждавам, че при нас дрехите и физиономията в сигнална окраска са почитан начин да те забележат и да покажеш статус и ниво. Докато навън това го правят само рускините и българките и си личат от километри.

Сетих за фризьорката ми. Сутринта минах да изпием по едно кафе и да си побъбрим, във време, когато обикновено скучае и чака първите клиенти. Днес беше в нервна криза и едва успя да ми отдели време за две изречения. Бяха я обсадили няколко нежни и крехки девойки, върху чиито глави плетеше сложни козунаци, кули и букли. Те нервничеха, защото бързали за маникюр, педикюр и гримьор. След всичките разкрасителни процедури за Голямата нощ от свежестта и младостта им няма да има и помен, но коя съм аз, че да им давам наклон?!

Препълни ми се душата днес с кич и кОлтура, чак прелива.

Честит празник!

Публикувано от Точка в 15:15

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Още от както се появи по кината преди повече от десет години, аз съм върл фен на лентата на Пол Верховен, под чието име се мъдреше “По роман на Робърт Хайнлайн”. В продължение на много зими аз си мечтаех да се докосна до оригинала, да прочета книгата, която е вдъхновила тази епична продукция. Най-после, поради липсата на финанси, се реших да извърша това светотатство и да я прочета от Читанката. Колко заблуден съм бил само!
Първо ще започна с най-важното: Ако сте фенове на книгата (независимо дали харесвате филма или не), по-добре не четете това ревю! В него няма да прочетете много ласкави думи за любимата си книга. Ако все пак имате желание да ме псувате, моля продължете…
Признавам си, че това е едва вторият ми досег до творчеството на този автор, но не съм забравил и препоръчаните ми преди време “Странник в странна страна” и “Луната е наставница сурова”. Преди тотално да го отпиша, както направих с Дийн Кунц, мисля да се пробвам с поне една от двете, а може и двете, ако не са прекално… подобни на по-долу описаната.
“Звездните рейнджъри” на Робърт Хайнлайн е носителка на куп награди за научна фантастика и се счита за истинска класика в жанра. Предполагам, че за много хора е така. За мен обаче това беше една адски скучна и мудна книга. Но всичко по реда си. Спомням си как навремето четох едно интервю с Пол Верховен, в което той каза, че така и не е дочел книгата. Имаше нещо от сорта, че след първите 2-3 глави той се чувствал едновременно отегчен и депресиран. Много се чудих защо така. Сега вече знам!
Историята, доколкото такава може да се намери, е проста – Хуан “Джони” Рико е богато хлапе, което завършва гимназия и се записва за военна служба, напълно против волята на своите родители, които искат той да постъпи в хубав и скъп колеж. Започва неговата тежка и адски опасна тренировка като част от наземната пехота. По време на двете години, които тя трае, избухва война срещу така наречените Дървеници – насекомоподобни създания от друга планета, които искат да изтрепят човечеството. И точно когато смятате, че ще започне екшънът и Джони ще се изправи срещу буболечките, той постъпва отново в училище – този път за висши офицери, защото иска да гради военна кариера, а не само да отбие номера и да спечели правото да е гражданин.
Всъщност в това се изразява и цялата книга. От началото до края тя е една открита пропаганда на Хайнлайн и неговите идеи. Тук говорим за възгледите на автора за милитаристично управление, за сексистко отношение, за разделението на хората и техните права.
“Избирателното право днес е привилегия само на отслужилите ветерани”
Хората, които не са изкарали двете години военна подготовка нямат право да гласуват, да правят кариера в политиката и прочие. Но това право може да бъде придобито с много пот и кръв, а понякога и да Ви коства живота. Като цяло всяка сцена на бойни действия или тренировъчни такива в лагерите на пехотата се редува със сцена на задълбочен анализ (или по-скоро монолог, в който се излагат суровите факти и гледни точки) на строя на управление, на правата и задълженията на хората, на силата, която военните притежават. Всичко това би било интересно ако не съставляваше поне едно седемдесет процента от обема на книгата. Може и да преувеличавам, разбира се, но усещането е такова. Убеден съм, че ще има и хора, на които това ще им допадне, но аз просто не съм от тях. Исках да прочета книга, която има добре изградена история и хубаво подбрана фабула, а вместо това получих трактат, в който авторът просто излага вижданията си за политиката, без дори да успява да се обособи кой знае колко прецизно или убедително.
В тази книга има един и един главен герой само – Джони Рико. Всички останали се появяват и изчезват под формата на изречение.
“Дизи Флорз си докара белята”
“Ал Дженкинз си беше докарал белята, прикривайки нашето оттегляне. Отчето също бе загинало.”
За неразбралите, “да си докараш белята” значи да умреш. Общо взето всички герои “си докарваха белята” рано или късно, а читателят научаваше за това в началото на съответната глава по горе показания начин. Тъй като действието се развива от първо лице, е логично останалите да нямат особено значение, но тук нещата са направо ужасно безлични спрямо който и да е от другите персонажи. Ако не харесате Джони Рико и не почувствате неговия герой, просто забравете да си харесате който и да е друг, защото реално погледнато такива няма.
Друга тема, за която Хайнлайн е широко критикуван, е неговият сексизъм. Още в “Имението на Фарнъм” се усещаше, тук също не е по-слабо застъпен.
“съществува една много убедителна причина жените офицери от флотата да бъдат назначавани да служат в транспорта: това способства за укрепване духа на рейнджъра.”
Това е един от най-фрапантните примери, но има и други, просто не ми се рови сега. Не смятам да коментирам това, защото не разбирам кой знае колко, а и не ме вълнува. Само искам да спомена, че в книгата няма женски персонажи, за разлика от филма. Единствено Кармен Ибанез, но тя се появява в началото и за малко към края. Дизи Флорз, която във версията на Верховен без жена и влюбена в Рико, тук е мъж, и както споменах по-горе, си “намери белята”.
Признавам си, че наистина исках да харесам тази книга. Започнах я с много голям ентусиазъм, но той бързо беше потушен след първите няколко глави. Единственото нещо, което ми направи сравнително по-положително впечатление, е начинът, по който Хайнлайн описва подоготовката на пехотата и тяхното обучение. Тук нещата са сурови, тежки и много брутални (за разлика от филма, примерно, в който всичко изглеждаше едва ли не като детска игра). Всяка грешка се наказва жестоко, а читателят може да почувства болката и мизерията на тези младежи. Но само толкова. Също така насекомите са много по-добре описани от тези в кино версията, много по-добре структурирани и не толкова комично жалки (не че онези не ме кефят, но тези тук са къде по-добре). Идеята за костюмите също беше много яка (отново елемент, който липсва във филма), но сякаш не беше нужно чак толкова дълго, подробно и отегчително описание на цялостните му принцип на действие.
Наистина, опитах се… Не се получи. Все още няма да отписвам Хайнлайн, но съм на крачка. Пак казвам, ако тази книга имаше по-смислено структуриран сюжет и “проповедите” не бяха толкова дълги и обстоятелствени, сигурно щеше да е къде къде по-интересна.
Етикети: books, reading challenge 2012

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