I’ve been noticing in the last few days I keep getting “likes” in old posts, and always the most boring, obscure homeworky ones too, not the fun ones. Of course I should have guessed, they’re all the ones with “exercise” in the name and some people are using bots to publicise their health-related blogs by dropping random likes on any post with a relevant keyword in the name. The Internet is a pointless place sometimes.
Corrected text about being homesick for a world that only exists in my xbox. Thanks to Capivara2666 for the help. Edit: and Dani for correcting the original correction
Pois, soa descabido mas já estou ausente do Mojave Wasteland, o território irreal do jogo eletrónico Fallout New Vegas, há 5 ou 6 meses, e tenho saudades da minha terra ainda que ela não exista. Fazem-me falta as vistas panorâmicas e a voz assombrosa de Peggy Lee a cantar Johnny Guitar. É um mundo mais acolhedor do que este apesar de nele existirem tantos monstros e tantos bandidos.
Follow-ups
As a result of this I found out that xbox is feminine. A xbox. Why? Because consola is feminine.
Pointless witterings about maths today, mainly trying to engage with maths terms. Thanks to Dani and Talures for the input.
A raiz quadrada de 81 é 9.
Também podemos dizer 81 dividido por nove são 9.
Escrever esta frase dá-me dores de cérebro porque penso na resposta como uma única coisa, portanto quero escrever “é” em vez de “são”, mas aprendi há muito tempo que o resultado deste tipo de operação leva uma conjugação plural quando o resultado é plural. Não faço as regras.
Prefiro a outra forma de dizer: “é igual a nove” que não me dói assim tanto. Nesta espécie de operação matemática, os dois números à esquerda do sinal de igual são chamados “as parcelas”. Se fosse uma adição, o resultado seria “a soma” mas tanto quanto sei não existe um nome específico que designe o resultado duma divisão.
It’s Hagiography Thursday here at Luso, and I bring you a corrected version of the story of Saint Uncumber, aka Vilgeforte. Thanks to Dani for the corrections.
Agora que nos afastámos do dia dos namorados, vamos lembrar uma santa que é quase o oposto do famoso São Valentim: Vilgeforte, também conhecida por Santa Liberada (e vários outros nomes – por exemplo “Saint Uncumber” em inglês), foi, segundo a lenda, uma princesa no território que faz parte do atual Portugal. Foi prometida pelo pai como esposa a um estrangeiro. Desejando permanecer solteira, pronunciou um voto de virgindade rezou a Deus para que a tornasse feia. Na manhã seguinte, ela acordou com uma barba. O pai ficou furioso. Ela não só era rebelde mas também um hipster. Mandou os seus soldados crucificar a filha barbada*. Vilgeforte não é, na realidade, uma santa e provavelmente não existiu**. Há quem afirme que a lenda deriva de antigos retratos de Cristo crucificado nos quais o Salvador está a vestir uma túnica que parece um vestido feminino.
*Rare use of the word “bearded” with a feminine ending. Understandably enough, there have been those in the LGBT space who have tried to claim Uncumber/Vilgeforte as a transgender man. Since she almost certainly didn’t exist there isn’t much point in discussing the pros and cons of this argument so I’ll let you make your own minds up.
**I used the imperfect tense here because existing, by its very nature, is something you do over a whole lifetime, continually, but although I’m pretty sure I would have been correct in French, here and now, in portuguese, she has finished existing, if she ever did at all. It’s over and done with. Perfect tense.
Discussing yesterday’s post with a friend, she pointed me to a sketch from a satirical show called Gato Fedorento (literally “Stinky Cat”) from 2007 which had a similar phrase in it. It’s actually not the same as the usage I’d heard, but it lives on as a meme, so I am definitely interested, and I spent some time understanding it anyway! The phrase is “É proibido mas pode-se fazer”.
The background is that in that year there was a referendum about reforming the abortion laws, which was quite a big deal in a largely catholic country. Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa had initially supported a referendum in 1997 but when it had finally come to the crunch ten years later he campaigned against it and set up a website critical of the plan called “Assim Não” (“Not like this”). Cynical political move or principled stand? Well, if I understand it, his reasoning was that in the ten years that had elapsed, he was out of power the Partido Socialista had launched the referendum, backed by a law they had written. The wording on the referendum remained “despenalização” (decriminalisation) but the law they were intending to pass was actually advocating “liberalização” (liberalisation), which he argued was slightly different. On top of that, there was an indication that women would be able to have abortions by their own choice, with no need to justify it on psychological, medical or other grounds, which he did not support. And he even goes on to paint a picture of a world where women are choosing abortions more-or-less at a whim. He is pretty ridiculous about it, actually. The bottom line was that he didn’t want to liberalise the conditions under which women could get abortions, he just wanted to take away the criminal penalty.
Here’s the original video.
(By the way, what’s the camera guy playing at? There are some really odd zoom shots and then, at about 2:00, he starts filming the guy through a glass on the table. That’s a pretty cool shot if you’re making an edgy police drama, but it’s weird AF in this context)
Anyway Gato Fedorento mocked him by having Ricardo Araújo Pereira repeat his speech (without the avant garde camera work) but spelling out the absurdity of how he wants it to work: “É proibido, mas pode-se fazer”. Or “It’s illegal but you can do it”.
Marcelo is the president now. Make of that what you will.
Quite enjoying a little nugget of dialogue I saw yesterday:
Posso means “may I?” and you probably know it’s used like “excuse me”, just as it is in English. If you need to squeeze past someone in a crowded space, you can say “posso” – may I? But since it is basically a question, the person you say it too might answer with the same verb in the second person and build it out a bit: “podes mas não deves”. You may, but you shouldn’t. It’s a kind of banterish way of replying if you are a banterish kind of person. Not quite as aggressive as this scene, which is the closest thing I can think of in English.
Corrected text about plumbing.
Enquanto estava a arrumar a casa de banho, a tampa do lavatório ficou presa no buraco. É uma dessas que não tem corrente. É perfeitamente lisa. Não consegui agarrá-la com os dedos. Experimentei vários métodos com facas e chaves de parafuso mas não tive sucesso nenhum. Retirei-me para o sofá para ler um livro. Uma horas depois, voltei para o quarto-de-banho . De repente, fez-se luz*: se calhar o vácuo do desentupidor funcionará!
A tampa saiu à segunda tentativa. Estava tão feliz. Finalmente as aulas de física deram frutos!
* =A light dawned
Passei o dia a argumentar sobre cascas de ovos no reddit. Porquê? Disse que as cascas de ovos não apodrecem na compostagem porque são compostas (isto não é um trocadilho) de carbonato de cálcio. Há quem não esteja pronto para ouvir tal heresia.
Apparently these lads have been at it for a decade now. I remember some of their earliest work and they’ve come a long way since. We in the language learning community salute you, sirs!
Today’s post is about Pão de Ló – specifically, Pão de Ló de Ovar, which I recently saw on a list of best cakes from all over the world. Since the cake isn’t very well-known here, I’ll put an English version of the recipe down at the bottom for anyone who wants to try it at home but can’t follow the instructions in portuguese.
Segundo um meme que já vi online, um dos melhores bolos de sempre é o pão de ló – especificamente o pão de ló de Ovar. Vi um vídeo dum homem a fazer o bolo e concordo que tem bom aspeto mas usa-se tantas gemas. O que é que fazem com as claras*? Merengues?**
Falei há uns dias duma lista de melhores bolos no mundo. Acabo de fazer a minha primeira tentativa de Pão de Ló de Ovar (eu sei, o nome do bolo não leva letras maiúsculas mas este merece).
Liguei o forno um bocadinho quente demais, que fez o topo mais escuro do que o ideal, mas sabe bem.
Segui uma receita da Internet mas quaaaaase fiz alguns erros básicos. Principalmente, li a lista de ingredientes e vi “fermento” mas entendi mal. Ao que parece, fermento é uma coisa e fermento vivo é outra coisa (em inglês, temos palavras distintas para os dois). Estava quase a usar fermento vivo em pó (“dried yeast”) em vez de fermento em pó (baking powder). Felizmente escapei-me daquela asneira! ***
*in the end, I made a massive egg-white omelette
**In the original I write “fazer merengues”, repeating the same verb as in the previous sentence. Why? I think I was mentally translating in my head “What do they DO with the whites? MAKE meringues?” And because both “do” and “make” can be translated as “fazer” I ended up repeating the word in a way that sounds odd in portuguese. It’s a good example of how letting go of translation and embracing thinking-in-portuguese can make all the difference. (Deep philosophical postscript: The fact that fazer is used in both seems to foreclose some possibilities. In English, “what do they do” implies that in addition to making a different dish, they could use it as a glaze. Or compost it. Or flush it down the toilet. Or a host of other things, whereas in portuguese, you can just answer “meringues”, implying that the original meaning of fazer was always “make”. I don’t think that’s really what’s happening though. I could have replied “derrubam-no sobre a cabeça do carteiro” or “fazem merengues”, but because fazer can mean both do and make, we have the option of dispensing with the verb in the answer.)
*** it seems like I’m not the only person who was tripped up by this as you can see from this online shop listing.
Heat the oven to 180°C
Grease and line a cake tin – about 22cm diameter
Grab the ingredients
Mix the eggs, yolks, sugar and salt. Whisk them with an electric whisk at full speed for a full 15 minutes or until your hand goes numb, whichever is longer.
Mix the flour and baking powder then carefully fold them into the mix using a spatula. Don’t use the mixer for this bit. It’s probably best to add it a bit at a time, otherwise it all sinks to the bottom and it’s hard to retrieve.
Pour the mixture into the tin and out it in the oven for about 35 minutes. It’ll probably need less time if your cake tin is larger than 22cm because the whole thing will be thinner.
Here’s what mine looked like. Nothing like the picture, as you can see. I think I had the oven too high. I always do that; it is my be setting sin. Tastes great though – and I have seen other people’s Pão de Ló looking the same so I’m not ashamed of it or anything!
Luso 