If we were to peek in on the lives of the people of the Earth in generations to come, surely we would think we were gazing upon Olympus. And of course, again, we would be wrong. They are only our children, our grandchildren and our successors who will surely stride the Earth as titans in those…


I knew about Les Murray just causally. Watching his show during a year I lived in Melbourne in 1999-2000. He anchors the football show on SBS. Yesterday he completed his 8th and final World Cup as Australia’s World Cup presenter.

A real idealist who advocates the Beautiful Game as a measure to promote the game in a nation where football is still competing for its space in the sporting attention. And believes that if football is not played beautifully, it will struggle.

He has been blessed in this mission. A sport that was once anonymous is now blooming. With fans taking interest in a successful local league, Asian continental competitions and a 3rd consecutive World Cup appearance - with a proud Australian showing in all three.

I feel that 2014, despite three defeats in the most difficult group possible, was actually Australia’s most solid performance. Better than the 2006 knockout stage. He also blogs and I recommend this Tim Cahill piece from the current games.

He was born Laszlo Urge and was 11 when he fled Hungary. One of 200,000 refugees in the aftermath of the Soviet invasions. In recent years, during a heated public debate in Australia over asylum and immigration (some people feel the white man was promised the land in the bible) - he made his story more public. He even visited Hungary and found the children of the man who guided his family across the then-border with Austria into freedom. He has spoken out about Australia’s role in assisting refugees.

But along the “grand” tragedy of nations, families, people - spare a thought for the tragedy of a 11-year old soccer loving kid. He flees football’s then greatest nation, a wonderland of Puskas and Kocsis, themselves among the fleeing masses - and reaches a land where people cannot tell a penalty from a corner. Apparently he would not see a proper soccer ball again for several years.

His life-work has been recreating his football world.


— From Ronen Dorfan’s Blog (Israel, football journalist).


Okay, okay, I’m going to tell you what Hermione sees in Ron.

A trio is a balancing act, right? They’re equalizers of each other. Harry’s like the action, Hermione’s the brains, Ron’s the heart. Hermione has been assassinated in these movies, and I mean that genuinely—by giving her every single positive character trait that Ron has, they have assassinated her character in the movies. She’s been harmed by being made to be less human, because everything good Ron has, she’s been given.

So, for instance: “If you want to kill Harry, you’re going to have to kill me too”—RON, leg is broken, he’s in pain, gets up and stands in front of Harry and says this. Who gets that line in the movie? Hermione.

“Fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself.” Hermione doesn’t say Voldemort’s name until well into the books—that’s Dumbledore’s line. When does Hermione say it in the movies? Beginning of Movie 2.

When the Devil’s Snare is curling itself around everybody, Hermione panics, and Ron is the one who keeps his head and says “Are you a witch or not?” In the movie, everybody else panics and Hermione keeps her head and does the biggest, brightest flare of sunlight spell there ever was.

So, Hermione—all her flaws were shaved away in the films. And that sounds like you’re making a kick-ass, amazing character, and what you’re doing is dehumanizing her. And it pisses me off. It really does.

In the books, they balance each other out, because where Hermione gets frazzled and maybe her rationality overtakes some of her instinct, Ron has that to back it up; Ron has a kind of emotional grounding that can keep Hermione’s hyper-rationalness in check. Sometimes Hermione’s super-logical nature grates Harry and bothers him, and isn’t the thing he needs even if it’s the right thing, like when she says “You have a saving people thing.” That is the thing that Harry needed to hear, she’s a hundred percent right, but the way she does it is wrong. That’s the classic “she’s super logical, she’s super brilliant, but she doesn’t know how to handle people emotionally,” at least Harry.

So in the books they are this balanced group, and in the movies, in the movies—hell, not even Harry is good enough for Hermione in the movies. No one’s good enough for Hermione in the movies—God isn’t good enough for Hermione in the movies! Hermione is everybody’s everything in the movies.

Harry’s idea to jump on the dragon in the books, who gets it in the movies? Hermione, who hates to fly. Hermione, who overcomes her withering fear of flying to take over Harry’s big idea to get out of the—like, why does Hermione get all these moments?

[John: Because we need to market the movie to girls.]

I think girls like the books, period. And like the Hermione in the books, and like the Hermione in the books just fine before Hollywood made her idealized and perfect. And if they would have trusted that, they would have been just fine.

Would the movies have been bad if she was as awesome as she was in the books, and as human as she was in the books? Would the movies get worse?

She IS a strong girl character. This is the thing that pisses me off. They are equating “strong” with superhuman. To me, the Hermione in the book is twelve times stronger than the completely unreachable ideal of Hermione in the movies. Give me the Hermione in the book who’s human and has flaws any single day of the week.

Here’s a classic example: When Snape in the first book yells at Hermione for being an insufferable know-it-all, do you want to know what Ron says in the book? “Well, you’re asking the questions, and she has to answer. Why ask if you don’t want to be told?” What does he say in the movie? “He’s got a point, you know.” Ron? Would never do that. Would NEVER do that, even before he liked Hermione. Ron would never do that.


Melissa Anelli THROWS IT DOWN about the way Ron and Hermione have been adapted in the movies on the latest episode of PotterCast. Listen here. This glorious rant starts at about 49:00. (via karakamos)

This expresses something that’s always nagged at me, but I couldn’t really articulate. As much as I’m a books>movies person, I honestly think the depiction of Ron in the movies (as a valueless berk, as per the changes described above) really has coloured my opinion of him overall, and led me to forget/downplay the moments in the books where he’s truly brave and invaluable. I feel like the same slow process of enculturation may have affected even J.K. Rowling herself, which would explain the retroactive “Oh, Hermione shouldn’t have ended up with Ron” stuff.

I mean, *I* thought Hermione was too good for Ron even back before the movies, but that’s because I was a nerd who valued book-learning and rationality too highly and I had a giant crush on her. When you’re only talking about book-Ron and book-Hermione, the match makes a lot of sense. I’d never realised the extent to which they idealized Hermione in the films, but I agree with Melissa: it makes her less of a real character.

(via becausegoodbye)

(via becausegoodbye)



"Sorry, man", Argentina whispers softly, sitting next to Brazil. He is, he honestly is, ‘cause no matter how fun it is to watch Brazil lose at anything, no one deserves to lose like that— not even his eternal rival. “Anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Brazil leans— just a little, hey— on Argentina (and that alone is enough proof of just how devastaded this poor country is) and composes himself enough to whisper:

"Win my world cup and I kill you."





There are only two worlds - your world, which is the real world, and other worlds, the fantasy.Their reality, or lack of reality, is not important. They give your world meaning. They do not exist, and thus they are all that matters.

Neil Gaiman - Books of Magic


Los Nadies

“Sueñan las pulgas con comprarse un perro y sueñan los nadies con salir de pobres, que algún mágico día llueva de pronto la buena suerte, que llueva a cántaros la buena suerte; pero la buena suerte no llueve ayer, ni hoy, ni mañana, ni nunca, ni en lloviznita cae del cielo la buena suerte, por mucho que los nadies la llamen y aunque les pique la mano izquierda, o se levanten con el pié derecho, o empiecen el año cambiando de escoba.
Los nadies: los hijos de los nadies, los dueños de nada.
Los nadies: los ningunos, los ninguneados, corriendo la liebre, muriendo la vida, jodidos, rejodidos:
Que no son, aunque sean.
Que no hablan idiomas, sino dialectos.
Que no profesan religiones, sino supersticiones.
Que no hacen arte, sino artesanía.
Que no practican cultura, sino folklore.
Que no son seres humanos, sino recursos humanos.
Que no tienen cara, sino brazos.
Que no tienen nombre, sino número.
Que no figuran en la historia universal, sino en la crónica roja de la prensa local.
Los nadies, que cuestan menos que la bala que los mata.”

— Los Nadies Tomado de El Libro de los Abrazos de Eduardo Galeano


"The Nobodies by Eduardo Galeano

Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty: that one magical day good luck will suddenly rain down on them–will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn’t rain down yesterday, today, tomorrow, or ever. Good luck doesn’t even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day with their right foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms.

The nobodies: nobody’s children, owners of nothing. The nobodies: the no ones, the nobodied, running like rabbits, dying through life, screwed every which way.

Who are not, but could be.
Who don’t speak languages, but dialects.
Who don’t have religions, but superstitions.
Who don’t create art, but handicrafts.
Who don’t have culture, but folklore.
Who are not human beings, but human resources.
Who do not have faces, but arms.
Who do not have names, but numbers.
Who do not appear in the history of the world, but in the police blotter of the local paper.
The nobodies, who cost less than the bullet that kills them.


— Eduardo Galeano

"Los que trabajan tienen miedo de perder el trabajo. Los que no trabajan tienen miedo de no encontrar nunca trabajo. Quien no tiene miedo al hambre, tiene miedo a la comida. Los automovilistas tienen miedo de caminar y los peatones tienen miedo de ser atropellados. La democracia tiene miedo de recordar y el lenguaje tiene miedo de decir. Los civiles tienen miedo a los militares, los militares tienen miedo a la falta de armas, las armas tienen miedo a la falta de guerras. Es el tiempo del miedo. Miedo de la mujer a la violencia del hombre y miedo del hombre a la mujer sin miedo. Miedo a los ladrones, miedo a la policía. Miedo a la puerta sin cerradura, al tiempo sin relojes, al niño sin televisión, miedo a la noche sin pastillas para dormir y miedo al día sin pastillas para despertar. Miedo a la multitud, miedo a la soledad, miedo a lo que fue y a lo que puede ser, miedo de morir, miedo de vivir."

Galeano Eduardo / Patas arriba: Escuela del mundo al revés (fragmento)

(Source: extremosdelacordura)

"Estamos en plena cultura del envase. El contrato de matrimonio importa más que el amor, el funeral más que el muerto, la ropa más que el cuerpo, y la misa más que Dios. La cultura del envase desprecia los contenidos"

— Eduardo Galeano. (via sweetlagrimas)

"I don’t believe in charity. I believe in solidarity. Charity is vertical, so it’s humiliating. It goes from the top to the bottom. Solidarity is horizontal. It respects the other and learns from the other. I have a lot to learn from other people."

— Eduardo Galeano (via mexiroccan)


(via sahasim)