A Handful of Determined People (II).

Nov 29th, 2008

The McCanns and whoever defends them are just a handful of determined people.

They have barricaded themselves in the edifice of Truth and hold British Dignity and Credibility hostage.

They are just a handful, totally outnumbered, yet able to dominate the events.

The vast majority limits itself to agreeing that the couple is guilty and that it’s going to get away with murder.

Literally. It took almost three days for India, with their best trained commandos, to win back those hotels.

How long will Britain take to storm this “building”? If it ever will, that is.


Footnote: Although I have only repulsion for the McCanns, it’s not my intent to compare their act with the ones carried out in India, for obvious reasons. It’s my opinion that the McCanns killed, or witnessed the killing of, their eldest child, with no premeditation. The terrorists in India have killed alleging that reason is on their side. One is a “mere” crime, the other something unquantifiable worse and yet to be qualified.

A Handful of Determined People (I)

Nov 29th, 2008

Being a citizen of this world, couldn’t escape the indignation and sadness which accompany and follow events like those in Mumbai.

It’s the reality that the political correctness has brought us to. We may whine about it (at least I do), but reality is what it is. No escaping from it. A handful of determined people held a nation up for ransom.

Not money, but credibility and tranquility.

India has suffered irreversible damage in both.

Let us hope that it will have a speedy recovery back to health.

A handful of determined people kept the world in anguish for more than two days. The world and the whole wide world (www).

A handful of determined people obtained results from their actions that highly overcame those to be expected by their numbers, especially taking into account how they were outnumbered.

A handful of determined people, not representing anything relevant in numbers, have brought their cause to be the most relevant one in the world’s collective conscience, only second to economy.

The world must find, urgently, a way to successfully fight a handful of determined people.

May those who lost their lives in Mumbai, rest in peace. May the world give some meaning to this loss of life.

Information - Now You See It, Now You Don't

(Nov 27th, 2008)

Nothing suffers greater misinformation than information itself.

The common perception is to reduce it to the broadcasting of facts. The corollary is to think that the broadcasting of distorted facts is to deceive, or intentionally misinform.

As the first statement is wrong, the second follows suit.

The whole misconception resides basically in what is perceived as fact.

You may think is that fact is something that you are able to describe with the following elements: who/what, action, location, time and intent. This is correct, but it’s incomplete.

It’s a description, thus subjective to each one’s perception of each of the referred elements. Let me to exemplify through example, using three phrases:

- Kate McCann killed Maddie.
- Victoria DeBeers killed Janice.
- Jane Muldoon killed Sarah.

All phrases are equal in content: a first individual, female, described by first name and surname, an action verb, equal to all, and a second individual, also female, described only through a first name.

However, the brain reacts differently to each one, due to various factors, not the least the order they are presented.

Let’s see then how much information is deduced by the brain.

On the first statement, as both names are known, as is the situation, your brain jumped immediately to a judgment: either to agree or to disagree. At this stage, I’m not questioning the veracity of the statement, but the simple fact that I feel obliged to explain that, it implies that it has a truthfulness issue, although not written anywhere.

This is not applicable to the other two statements. In the first statement the personalities are known: the first individual as a female adult, mother of the second one, a child.

This rationale was carried to the other two.

Nowhere is written that both Victoria and Jane are mothers of Janice and Sarah, respectively. Nor that they first are adults, and the latter children.

No relationship is ever implied. All deduced, involuntarily.

Also, DeBeers is commonly perceived as an upper class surname, belonging normally to the richest of peoples, and this is why the brain assumes that Victoria is somewhat of a posh woman, no pun intended here.

When Jane’s name is read she is automatically categorized into a “commoner” sort.

The same applies to Janice and Sarah. But they don’t exist. Just names I invented. The pictures that you created in your mind were sculpted from information that your brain absorbed out of nowhere.

All deduction, nothing but deduction.

I could go on, but I think you do get the picture.

I’ve lead (or mislead) you into a certain line of thought, and you, although involuntarily, acted accordingly. I set the stage with the first statement, and then played along with the other two.

What happened is that as your brain received each stimulus it immediately began to search within your personal database on where and how to assimilate the information absorbed.

If I say “Manchester won” you react one way, but if I say “Manchester won a cricket match” your thought process is totally different.

Why? Simply because I changed the place, in the referred database, on where to link whatever it was that I meant by “Manchester”. If in the first instance the words “United” and “football” came up, they vanished as soon as the word “cricket” came up.

The mind is a wonderfully flexible gymnast.

It takes only the speed of light for you to alter the direction with which its little wheels and cogs are working on.

That database is with what you to define your own reality. Let’s just say that it’s the place where you store, and keep on storing, the various values with which you live by.

The “what” you refer to whenever you separate right from wrong.

Every single time you judge something or someone.

The way, and with what, that database is uploaded in your brain will have a determining effect on the way you conduct yourself in life.

And that is what information is. The background on which you base your values. The ones with which you opt whenever you decide anything.

Once you’re able to control this process on others, or at least influence it, the power is yours.

That is why the Media is so mighty. Not because of the stories they tell you, but of the way they influence your subconscious with them.

Not the facts, but everything that they tell you that surrounds them. It’s a blur, but your mind picks it all up.

To those reading and saying that they cannot be fooled, let me prove otherwise. Any magician’s act is the example of information management. The magician leads you in a fictitious reality that you assimilate as truthful. Not because he tells you, but because he shows you. Facts to be witnessed by your. All fake, but all taken for real. From a certain point onwards he’s the only one who knows reality as it really is, and everybody else is submerged in another one, totally different, totally unreal.

That is when magic happens, although it’s nothing else than the merging of these two realities.

And the better the magician, the furthest you were taken for a sucker.

I heard about the McCanns for the first time on a radio in my car. An English couple, on holiday in Algarve, upon returning from dinner had discovered that the daughter that they left at the apartment was missing.

Immediately my brain pictured a rowdy couple, him with a beer belly, and she with flip-flops on her feet, both drunkards..

Only a couple like that would leave their daughter alone in an apartment. Didn’t give the issue any more thought. Felt no pity. Later, in the evening, I was fed, via television, with all other relevant information. An upper class couple, educated, both doctors, both physically attractive, or at least media-friendly appearances.

With all this, it was not surprising that they conquered my immediate empathy.

Then I saw the child’s picture, and fell in love with her. I suffered with her, and for her. I was far, but I had been closer, I would have walked those streets from that day onwards.

But as time passed, something simply didn’t feel right in the database.

The facts kept on coming but they didn’t match up with the blur around them. September 2007 came as no surprise.

July 2008 brought only anger.

Anyone who says that it’s foolish to be fooled is the biggest fool of all.

England and Portugal - A Personal View of this Relationship

Nov 22nd, 2008

Portugal and England (as predecessor of United Kingdom) are allies since the Treaty of London, signed on June 16th, 1373.

It’s most relevant application was during the Napoleonic Wars, having revealed, on Portuguese soil, the one that would later defeat Napoleon: the Duke of Wellington.

It’s the oldest diplomatic Alliance in existence, and both countries do boast about that.

Apparently it would make these two nations very friendly between themselves.

Nothing could be more false, or hypocritical. Let me clarify that nothing moves me against either nation, and that I’m just stating facts, as I see them, and how they picture, de facto, this relationship that is the fruit of intertwined histories.

Let me demonstrate by using five examples.


Example 1 – The Portuguese National Anthem.

It’s a blatant war cry against the British.

Not metaphorically, but explicitly.

It was written after Portugal was humiliated by Britain to accept the physical separation between Angola and Mozambique, of what otherwise be the unification of the East and West coasts of Africa. A Portuguese dream, known as the Pink Map (sometimes fate does play some strange pranks), that conflicted with Britain’s interests of have an uninterrupted route from Cape do Cairo.

Thus the British Ultimatum of 1890. Guess who was on it’s knees, and who forced the other to be in such a position?

So, Alfredo Lopes Mendonça (lyrics) and Alfredo Keil (music), republicans, furious with the ruling Portuguese Monarchy, wrote “The Portuguese”.

It’s made up of three parts. The first one and the chorus (this one with a change that you will see later on), were adopted as the Anthem with the implementation of the Portuguese Republic, in 1911.

Let me give you my translation of the “A Portuguesa” as was written in 1890:

Herois do mar, nobre povo, (Sea heroes, noble people,)
Nação valente, imortal, (Immortal, valiant Nation,)
Levantai hoje de novo (Raise again today)
O esplendor de Portugal! (Portugal’s splendor!)
Entre as brumas da memoria, (From the mist of memory,)
Oh patria sente-se a voz (Oh homeland you can feel the voice)
Dos teus egrégios avós, (Of your distinguished forefathers)
Que há-de guiar-te à vitória! (That will guide you to victory!)

Às armas, às armas! (To arms, to arms!)
Sobre a terra, sobre o mar, (On land, on sea,)

Às armas, às armas! (To arms, to arms!)
Pela patria lutar! (Fight for the homeland!)

Contra os Bretões marchar, marchar! (Against the British, march, march!)

The only difference between these lyrics and today's Anthem, is, for obvious reasons, the last verse. So “Contra os Bretões marchar, marchar!” became: Contra os canhões marchar, marchar! (Against the cannons, march, march!)

Friends, as far as I know, don’t give each other ultimatums. And if that does happen, it’s commonly understood by all parties involved that the friendship is, in fact, over.

 Not the case, apparently. At least, officially. The man on the street might have another opinion.


Example 2 – Friends from Peniche.

This is what I picked up from Wikipedia: “Amigo de Peniche, in Portugal, is an idiomatic expression referring to a false friend. It’s a person who’s only interested in receiving and winning the laurels, at your expense and giving nothing in exchange (…)

Says legend that this expression comes from the time of the Napoleonic invasions, as during the siege of Lisbon, the people of Peniche promised to get supplies to Porto, by sea, but these never appeared, and, as it seems, it wasn’t even tried, so the people Porto despaired each day for the “friends from Peniche”.

The legend described in the former paragraph is historically baseless, and is not in accordance with the most known (and credible) version, which is the following:

Its certain that the expression has its origins in the Napoleonic invasions, however the most common version (and there are historic facts that prove this thesis), refers to the fact that being Portugal and England allies for centuries, and being England the main party interested in having access to the main international seaports (which France wanted to blockade), it was of the utmost interest that the Port of Lisbon remain accessible to the English maritime commerce.

So, the English disembarked in Peniche, stating that they came to help Portugal, but what history has registered is that as soon as they landed immediately started to loot and do all kind of barbarisms.

From Peniche they advanced to Lisbon, by the route that history registered as “Torres Lines” (Torres Vedras).

Since then, the English started to be very little considered by the Portuguese, this was accentuated at the time of the British Ultimatum of 1890, which originated a big manifestation of indignation in the Camões Square in Lisbon.

Since then, the expression “Friends of Peniche”, started to designate all false friends.”


Example 3 – India

Goa, Damão and Diu, made up the Portuguese colony of Portuguese India.

It was invaded in 1961 by India and has been integral part of that State since then. Independently of where one thinks reason lies, it was an invasion of the territory of a sovereign state, by another. An act of war.

Portugal invoked the Alliance with the United Kingdom and requested the use of the british Air Bases in the region. It was refused.


Example 4 – Falklands/Malvinas

Argentina invaded the Falklands in 1982. Will not get into comparison with example 3, as the article is not about the reasons of this war, or any other for that matter.

Don’t know if the use of the Portuguese Azores’s Air Facilities were requested for use. Nor if it was used.

Relevant, is the fact that it was made available. In the sake of the Alliance.

The peculiar thing is that the Portuguese always referred to this conflict as the “Malvina’s War”.

Portugal must have been the only British ally to use the Argentinean terminology to refer to that particular territory.

Symptomatic, I do think. Ask any Portuguese on the street.


Example 5 – McCanns

Need I say anything?

"I tell you what to do and you do as you’re told". That's it. No need for ultimatums. Not required.

You’re too domesticated for that.

Never seen a state interfering within the sovereignty of another as much as in this case. Within the so-called western world. Never did a state abdicate its right to exercise its own justice as Portugal has.

Never did a state impose its will upon another’s internal affairs as the UK has done so far.

****

As you can see, the relationship between these two States can hardly be qualified as “friendly”.

Bullying is the word that occurs to me. The same kind as the one by a British citizen who feels comfortable enough to describe the Portuguese as “sardine-munching”, not only in writing, but in the official media itself.

He knows he is unaccountable for that act. The bully is on his side. And this bullying is going on in every minute and everywhere. In the blogs. In the forums. In the papers. In the police. It seems that there is a convention that states that anything that is British has the seal of quality stamped on it, unlike what is coming from Portugal.

The Portuguese say that he who plants wind, reaps a storm. So, the next time you’re in Portugal, if find yourself, like it happened to me, walking in the opposite direction of which you should be walking just because you were misdirected by some Portuguese that led you exactly that way when, just a while ago, you asked him, in English, for some directions, don’t think he’s an idiot. You are.

He’s just resentful.

Portugal was once an empire. It ended, as such, in the 16th century. Territorially in the late 20th century, just because it served international interests, but Portugal has not been a relevant actor in the world scene a long time ago.

The British Empire is over. The day Winston Churchill condemned colonization. The day India became a Nation.

The British have not yet grasped that.

Achilles' Heel, the Footman's Door to Freedom

Nov 19th, 2008

When Achilles’ heel is thought of the most common thing to do is to associate it with the exploitation of the great’s weakness by the meek.

We seldom think the other way around, and that in fact it also represents the strength of the weak in confrontation with the mighty.

In the case, the footman, faced with invincibility had to, for survival reasons, find the imperfection within perfection itself.

Behind him, he had the certainty that there’s no such thing as perfection. Resolution did the rest. So the hunted became the hunter, even if his prey lay within his own hunter.

And, as soon as he found the first flaw, the ankle, he acted upon it, shooting the arrow that, in terms of fame, comes only second to William Tell’s. If you’re an English speaker, that is. Ok, I’ll throw in Robin Hood and stop there.

The relevant question to be asked is, was this flaw, the only one?

Well, when one is looking for the misplaced car keys one stops, for obvious reasons, to search as soon as they are found.

And once the heel was discovered so was stopped the quest to find any further Achilles’ shortfalls. Many others, I believe, remained and remain secret, but were and are exposed to the capability of the footman to find them.

I’ve already spent many a word on how I see the way society is currently structured. Simply put, it follows nature’s basic law, the survival of the fittest.

These being in today’s world, those that possess the most resources. Resources, as I see it, can be summed up into two major groups: money and influence.

The first implies the second, but the inverse is not always applicable. The first is tangible, the latter, not, but both bring home the same result: power.

But what is a chess-game without pawns? Just a suicidal battle with huge amounts of blood shed with no interest to anyone. These little pieces, although lambs for the slaughter, are resources to be preserved. Up to the limit of their usefulness, of course.

After all, they are the ones who influence the whole game at its very start; by the way they are maneuvered. And if you wish to succeed, you better start right in the first place.

The strength of the pawns, reside in their numbers, even if very limited in individual capabilities.

Individually, their value is close to none. So, if one wants to win the game, one must sacrifice as few pawns as one can. Keep the quantity as long as you can. Important is that they remain loyal and subdued whilst on the board. Only then will they march, happily, onwards to their own death. A smile on their face must be a permanent fixture. At all costs.

Not because the mighty want to see the little happy, but because they must. Or, at least, it’s in their best interest.

Were it not for Achilles’ heel, the pawns would be totally at the mercy of the Masters’ whatever will and want.

Thus the perception, of all parties, that there is, in fact, such a weak spot, is of the utmost relevance. The big need the small, and these need that that need be fulfilled in the most respectful way possible.

That respect is directly quantifiable to the amount of fear that the small can put on the big. That’s only achieved by finding and keeping on finding these openings.

Like not letting a sore heal. Not unbearable pain, just noticeable. A reminder that respect is due where it’s due.

The McCann affair is a text-book case of arrogance from the powerful. They, for reasons that would fill another article, have imposed a truth. From high, very high. Where the pedestal they built themselves has placed them in society. Using all physical means available. And I do mean ALL. Theirs, and borrowed.

Assuming that, as the beholders of the means, that you, and me, would just have to play the musical notes in the exact same manner that they dotted them on the sheet.

I would dare say that we are actively participating in one of the most fundamental cultural happenings of our time.

As I said once, it’s about dignity. Our dignity as human beings. Respect that was owed to the little, but arrogantly denied

The only acceptable outcome is to see the McCanns facing justice. In Court, whatever the outcome.

They set-up the board safeguarding their position by playing the King. Each detail revealed, is one of their pieces that fall. And check-mate is coming…

We must make the powerful aware that we, as citizens, are aware. That we can find and explore as many Achilles’ heels as are required.

That we also can, and will, exercise our power. Without revolution, but with resolution.

Libel - Goliath's Revenge?

(Nov 12th, 2008)

I have already stated what I think about the whole system of justice the way it’s set up in the so-called civilized western world.

I do not live the reality in the remainder countries, and although I may be wrong in the judgment that I make, the words barbaric and savage occur in my mind.

It’s not about these that I wish to talk about today. Today, I would like comment on the usage by the people of the state instrument of justice.

No question in my mind that it’s in the courts that the deliverance of justice is to, and should, take place.

It’s a totally different issue the how, if and where justice, in broad sense, is served.

Making a direct analogy into sports, even though the Courts are where the championships are decided, you can play soccer anywhere you can place two stones to make a goal. The “down-the-street” champion is, nationally, much less relevant than the 1st Division Leader. But it should be noted that the initial objectives of either differ basically in the same size and manner.

If my true wish is to rub my playing skills in the face of my fat chubby neighbor, any goal coming out of my feet brings me much more satisfaction than any scored by Cristiano Ronaldo. Even was I a United fan, which I’m not. Justice is to be served.

As said, the Courts are the right place where this service should be take place. The adequate soccer pitches. The lawyers are our players, the Judges the referees. And continuing directly to the point: the best results are obtained by the best teams. And the best teams cost more money, if, for no other reason, because they obtain the best results.

Simple logic, but harshest of truths. If you walk in a pitch with your local team to face another of the same league, the fight is fair. But if you’re facing Real Madrid, doom is the only certainty you have.

To worsen the case, any money you have spent putting together the team was a stupid expenditure. Especially if you knew well beforehand which team you were to face.

Would you reach into your wallet to gather up some local boys to play, for profit, against a World Known Team (WKT)? Of course not. Unless you enjoy getting your ass kicked. But that would mean that you’d like to spend some money, which you’re entitled to, in other painful activities of ill repute which I will refrain to refer, and thus not serve as an example. And the sport’s analogy almost stops here.

Because these WKT, in the legal world, hardly, if ever, compete with each other. The owners of these teams basically have the best players on their pay-roll, ready to pounce on weaker victims with efficiency.

The idea is not to put up a hard fight. The idea is to massacre. Ruthlessly. It’s like being able to have Evander Hollyfield standing next you, boxing gloves on, and holding a sign “Wanna Fight?” for you.

Would I step into the ring? Voluntarily? Yeah, you’ve guessed right.

Libel. Terrible, terrible word. Scares the living sh*t out of me. Out of any normal human being.

A mandatory forced presence in a ring where an enormous monster is going to beat the cr*p out every living cell you own. And some you didn’t even knew you did.

Independently of whatever caused you being there, you just pray you can leave the place alive. You will even be thankful if you’re left in a vegetative state. Very unlikely though. The casket by the ringside is revealing, and you suddenly have stopped caring if you were right or wrong.

And not because you’re not within reason. That should be relevant, after all, although it may not seem, we’re talking about the legal world here.

The fact is you’ll get beaten up simply because you can’t afford better.

Bullying. Terrible bullying. Because it’s done openly and legally. And, most importantly, bullying using instruments of the state designed to defend you: the courts.

So, you, and me, do all we can to avoid justice.

Once again, irrelevant if we are beholders of the truth. We simply have to cower, lie on our backs and expose our bellies to the big, powerful and rich.

They are having their day. Their dominance is evident. Their gloating of it, also.

Reason was last seen begging for money down at the subway station.

Just a word for the Goliaths out there. Please don’t mistake fear for respect. Just because you’ve pointed a gun to my head and asked me if I wanted to live, doesn’t mean I’m grateful that you’ve spared my life.

I’m just resentful that you’ve put me into the situation in the first place.

Yes, Goliath is having his day. But don’t forget that Achille’s one is yet to arrive. If it ever arrives.

The Unbearable Weight of Being (a Liar)

Nov 10th, 2008

Let me describe you one of the most successful, at least in my opinion, sketch of Hidden Camera.

You know, those TV shows where people are “forced” into situations that exploit or maximize their natural reactions, filmed without their knowledge and later shown with their permission.

In this particular sketch, I cannot recall the exact year, but I think it happened in the late eighties, early nineties, and was broadcast in the Portuguese RTP1.

The plot was very simple: a fake TV crew arrives late on scene to do a report on a supposed suicide, the “victim” is approached and told that they would face unemployment if they didn’t return home with the news, and so was asked to come up with something about the suicide so that they could get away with it.

The crew then would get an interview with a witness who had “seen” it happening, and nobody would be wiser.

Or, saying it as they said it, we are desperate, so won’t you please, please lie for us? Pretty please?

The first part of the interview was to get the victim to come up with as much detail as possible about the event, such as gender, timings, clothing, reasons, etc. And once the bait taken, just reel it in.

This, was done by a person, member of the team, who approached the interview, and started to pay close attention to the interview. A normal bystander.

And as soon as the “victim” had had all the major facts out in the open, he would then interrupt with a very innocent “Sorry, are you talking about the suicide that happened an hour ago? If you are, I have to say that what this person is saying is not correct at all. I saw the whole thing. It wasn’t a man, it was a woman. And she certainly was wearing a yellow jersey, not a red one”.

Or something similar just to contradict the “victim”. You get the picture.

Now what was the reaction of the victim?

Before him was, apparently, someone who had seen it all, the exact fit for the interview. Just had simply to step aside, and say, “Well, it seems got here exactly who you were looking for, so you all have a nice day and hope to watch later tonight, bye”.

But did the “victims” do that? Obviously not.

Confronted by someone who blatantly called the bluff, and also before two people (the reporter and cameraman) who the “victim” knew that what they knew that was all baloney, the natural reaction was to stick to the story.

Firmly. Justifying each and every statement just made, taking offense at the falsehood “innuendo”, and throwing back the accusation of lack of honesty back to the accusing party.

Admit to be lying? Over my dead body, I say.

The whole world knew, except the “victim”, that she was lying.

But what if it didn’t? Once caught in a lie, the natural human reaction is to let it snowball into something where the only facts that matter are those involving one’s honor.

Which, by the way, the harder is the attempt to whitewash it the more tainted it becomes. Horribly stained. And yet, it’s done time and time again.

No lessons learned here, folks.

To step forward and assume a deliberate mistake is almost a physical impossibility.

And the higher the stakes, the higher the conviction with which the falsity is defended. The higher the conviction, the more intense is the fight, the bigger the problem becomes.

Until you reach that point of no return. You’re left between a wall and a hard place, and like a cornered rat, you simply stop fighting for a reason and start fighting to stay alive.

And keep on fighting until your dying days.

 Sounds familiar?

But when one knows one’s lying and one knows that everyone knows that one’s lying, then the weight upon one’s shoulder becomes enormous. Gigantic. From self-consciousness. From imagined mockery, be it real, be it just that, imagined.

And that is the unbearable weight of being a liar.

Respect

Nov 9th, 2008

On this day, To all of those that have fallen, giving up their most precious possession, for the true values of democracy as truth and freedom of speech, opinion and judgment, I bow my head in the most profound respect and gratitude.

To all those that have used this heroic altruism, distorting it to your own benefit and purpose, my most heartfelt, deepest of disgust.

Quite an Achievement: 0 Comments.

Nov 7th, 2008

Last time I looked, my last post at the 3Arguido's Forum, "The Employees”, had had only 150 hits and 0 replies.

Quite an achievement.

By the way it was somewhere on the fourth page and in cruising speed well on its way to the fifth.

So, if you still want to read it, please do hurry.

Disappointed in myself? Yes. For not being able to, apparently, put across my message. Was I too boring? Was I too narrative? Was I too bullying? Was I whatever?

Well, it’s irrelevant because whatever it was, it provoked mere silence.

Be it lack of interest on my part or fear of commitment on yours. Or my commitment and your interest.

Disappointed in you? Yes.

I did use the technique of bullying the “enemy” into silence, but, honest as I always am, did expect some support. The 147 hits are just a little under the 1500-3000 I got with previous posts.

I could get into an excusable interpretation that that those high numbers could represent repeated hits of people coming back to accompany the bickering fights between the parties, whilst the 147 are “true” hits.

I won’t, as I said, its irrelevant. And this isn’t the place for commiseration.

I could extrapolate nice things about the fact that it as received a couple dozens hits after it has left the “front page”, and has even had 3 in between page 3 and 4, but I’ll let it lie

Will it shut up my voice? Yes, some would wish. But no, it won’t.

Here, wherever, I will continue to voice my opinion. Let it be known that I can take a hit.

It’s not how many times you fall, its how quickly you get up that matter.

I’ll probably stop posting here (the Forum), as this forum might not be what I expected to be. Or I’m not what this forum expects. I’m not judging the judgment of the mods, who are people that deserve unquestionably my utmost respect. Even if they kick me out in the next minute or two.

They have a commitment, a mission, and although the end result is the same (or I think it is), their means and ways of going about it may differ significantly from mine.

When one of the parties realizes that the other is no longer fulfilling the “agreed”, separation is the natural option.

No fuss, no disrespect. If I cannot fight on the hills, I'll do my fighting in the mountains. And if I can't there, I'll find somewhere else.

But I'll be around. I’m not here to show you how clever I am. Nor to be popular.

The reward, is nothing but sad, just to mention it. I have already said that I act out of common decency and in accordance with my conscience.

And let me tell you what it tells me when my 5 year-old granddaughter sits on my lap and sips that hot cocoa that I melt when I see her drinking it: it tells me to tell her, very silently, and looking into those innocent infant eyes that if your parents are ever responsible for your death, and I, for some absurd stupid reason that I cannot now foresee, do protect them from justice, may there be, somewhere in this insane world, a loony old bat that will never forfeit to speak on your behalf.

That’s what the cricket in my shoulder keeps repeating time and time again.

And he’s much more annoying than I am.

This is what I believe happened, and which I’m assuming as facts:

1. Madeleine is dead, and that happened in the apartment 5A, between 18.30 and 19.00 p.m, on May 3rd 2007.

2. One of her parents, or both, witnessed the death the moment it happened.

3. One of her parents might have killed her, although I think it was David Payne who did it.

4. Her parents and their friends cooperated in the creation of an abduction story that meant the spending of significant resources, human and otherwise, for many days.

5. Her parents participated directly and actively in the disposal of her body.

6. During their holiday stay in Praia da Luz, the McCanns and their friends were negligent with the children under their care.

7. Her parents and friends had, in all events following her death, the help and cooperation of British citizens residing in the Praia da Luz area, as well as of people significantly embedded in the British Government itself.

Please do contain from asking me for statements of proof, as I won’t answer. I couldn’t care less for the opinion of those that, apparently, cannot add up one and one.

The first fact is irrevocable. From #2 to #6 justice can and should be sought.

The 7th, is of difficult proof and application of justice, with only possible political consequences.

Now, let me surprise you. If you think that I’m anti- McCann, you could not have read me wronger. Yes, I think they should be punished for what they did. What I think is that they are being overly punished.

As I said before, justice is served many a time outside court-rooms. And, if haven’t realized it by now, I think you should take into account that Kate and Gerry McCann have condemned themselves to a life imprisonment sentence without parole.

It may be a fancy prison, but it’s a prison alright.

And one with much fewer privileges sometimes than the ones with bars.

My problem is that they are taking the rap alone, and they shouldn’t be. Out of the Tapas 9, in the near future, you might remember the names of David Payne or of Jane Tanner, but if one of these is to buy an apple next to you on a grocery store, you will not recognize either of them, and they will, quite soon, be able to go on with their lives unscathed.

All the other of the Tapas 9, besides the McCanns themselves, could buy that apple today, that you wouldn’t even raise your head. I wouldn’t.

Now picture Kate and Gerry. You still remember the faces of those Libyans accused of Lockerbie, don’t you? I do. And it was how long ago? Twenty years.

Kate and Gerry’s face will always be in everyone’s mind. They will never be able to walk the streets without the shadow of Madeleine hanging over their heads.

Whatever justice that you call upon them will only alleviate their (deserved (?)) pain, not burden them further. They have paid, are paying, and will pay for whatever crimes they have committed until the end of their days.

And Amelie and Sean, with age, will probably aggravate this even further. Maybe a too harsh of a sentence if they are witnesses of voluntary or involuntary murder.

But an adequate one if they participated in the killing of Madeleine.

But, what about the others? What about the truth? Will justice ever be served on the remainder Tapas 7?

Well for what it’s worth, I see only one weak link here, and that is the McCanns themselves.

And Kate’s guilt-ridden expression tells me that that is not an impossibility. Unless they break, this insane story will be upheld.

In the following post, probably my last, if this is not it, be that the will of the mods, I’ll try to explain, simplistically, why in my modest opinion, this story is very difficult to have an happy “legal” ending.

Last note. I will be particularly offended if anybody misinterprets my words into me having feelings of pity for Kate or Gerry McCann.

The Employees

(Nov, 4th 2008)

I once stated that as of a certain day, a little over 3 months after the publication in Portugal of Mr. Amaral’s book about Madeleine and an eternity before the promised subsequent the libel suit promised by Mr. Mitchell in the name of Kate and Gerry McCann, only three kind of people still believed, truly, in this couple’s innocence in their daughter demise: the mentally impaired, the illiterate and those that are to be hurt if what is known to have happened is known, officially, to have happened.

A little time has passed, and of these, the first group doesn’t care, unfortunately for them, and the second, as word gets around, is diminishing by the day.

These two groups constitute what I call the Believers.

Of the third, that I named the Hurtful, I stand to be corrected in putting them together with the Believers.

As La Palice wouldn’t be able to say it better even if he tried, he who knows who is guilty is unable to believe in his innocence.

Can justify the action, defend possible reasons, but never believe.

They sure, though, can pretend. And that's what the Hurtful do. Or try to do.

Not convincing anyone, much less themselves.

Within the Hurtful, there’s a sub-group to be noted, the McCanners.

Those who know with total certainty who exactly is guilty and of what. Most of the Hurtful also do know. But they haven’t, amongst themselves, any material witnesses of Madeleine’s last breath. The McCanners do.

The Hurtful, especially the ones other than the McCanners, cannot afford being in the spotlight.

Basically to avoid the same effect as sunlight would have on vampires. I remind you that these people are a very, very powerful.

So much so that they pushed this situation totally out of control, especially theirs.

And they are now desperately managing the damage. Irreparable damage was caused. One day I’ll theorize on who makes up this group and why I recognize that it will be humungous task to bring this issue up into broad daylight, although not an impossible one.

The important thing for them is that today the “sea” of press is calm, and whatever happens below the surface happens there, and there must remain.

Before you get mixed up with the names, groups and sub-groups, let me summarize.

I have, up to now, described two of the major groups that I think are involved in this sordid affair. On one hand, the Believers, made up of the impaired plus the illiterate, and on the other the Hurtful, which include, but is not limited to, the McCanners.

I will now bring forth the third group, the Defenders. This group is made up of all that defend against all and any logic that the McCann’s are innocent.

We can exclude from this group the Believers, as the impaired are exactly that and the illiterate have no significant means of communication.

The Hurtful are part of the Defenders, but are in minority.

The vast number is common people like you and me, with the exception that, apparently, they have a thicker skull. They are simply adverse to logic, and allergic to the truth.

At least those that act without any financial compensation for their acts.

They are the biggest slice of the Defendants, but, by far, aren’t its key members.

The Hurtful, powerful within the internationally recognized borders are totally helpless on the internet. They can control the servers in the UK. But Argentina, just as an example, is a little too far. And they do remember the Falklands.

And, obviously, it’s impossible to control the US servers.

And this inability of controlling the electronic word as they do the written one (the average person living in the UK doesn’t have, and doesn’t want, access to the papers of Argentina and the US, just to use the same examples) brings him to down to levels of powerlessness that they are not used to.

But money can buy you many things. One of which is people. So, they hire “warriors” supposedly able to fight here on equal terms. The Mercenaries, a sub-group of the Defendants.

The ethically chaste for the morally doubtful.

Not withholding logic nor truth their maneuver space is limited to disruption. Like Knights of the Apocalypse.

Everybody knows that it takes some time to tidy up a shelf, but only a couple of seconds to pull it out, turn it and drop the contents on the floor. That simple. Havoc is easy. Easier if there is no logic or construct.

Intimidating and being intimidating like bullies in a school playground. Bullying is one of the two ways to go about their intent. Insult, threats and ridiculing.

But the bullying doesn’t stop there. It’s also done by inverse psychology. Through victimization. Claiming personal persecution or accusing vehemently biased intolerance.

All just to make others afraid and self-conscious, thus impeding them from voicing their opinions freely. And so, silence is kept. And, for these people, silence is golden.

Literally. Their salary depends on it.

The other way, is much more subtle, and that is to distort the truth. To mold it a bit by bit until it becomes unrecognizable. Like insisting that you had a flat tire on a trip when you didn’t have one. You politely try to explain that that never happened. Not surprisingly the next comment is already about how you bandaged your hand that you hurt while changing the tire.

And before you know it you have inadvertently got yourself into an animated discussion about the various types and forms of bandaging, all based on an inexistent flat tire that you no longer remember that you didn’t have in the first place.

If I added a detail here, another one there, my husband would be Brad Pitt. But he isn’t, is he?

Here I was honestly hoping that a Mercenary would jump in and prove that yes, I was stealing Angelina’s man every night, albeit that ugly wart that he has on his nose. My husband, not Brad.

What? I have other things seen being defended much a ridiculer argument. And a gal is entitled to dream.

If I am to distort the truth, well, basically I will distort it to my convenience.

So, Fred, please let there be no raise of an eyebrow if I call you Brad tonight. And if I get good help from a friendly Mercenary, you will also believe you are!

But the Mercenaries are unable to do their job alone. They do have the resources, but there too many battlefronts where the fight is to be taken to. Not a single enemy is allowed to pass. They need numbers, like the Nazis with the collaborationists. Volunteers for their devilish intent.

The recruitment is explained in the most basic of mass-psychology books. Like the use of the media to propagate the most basic inflammatory values such as racism and national pride.

Woefully supporting the disgraceful victims, the us, and pointing hard fingers to the disgraced aggressors, the them.

Anger generated by anger. Simple formula. Proven results, time and time again. I call them the Employees.

For whatever reason, ready to be used by a will higher than theirs. Aware or unaware, they are being employed by others in the fulfillment of their intent.

Why do they do it? I haven’t the faintest.

Maybe they feel attracted to the power one feels when one works with the powerful, not realizing that they are working for them. That false sensation of belonging to a group that couldn’t care less about you. Like when you desperately tried to belong to the most popular group I high school, but ended up just doing their errants. You walked proud, but under a chorus of sneers. From all sides of the ball park. The bullies and the bullied. You were simply the fool.

Maybe it’s because they got themselves caught in lie, and now cannot simply get out of it. The natural human reaction to refuse being ridiculous. Nobody likes to make a fool of him or herself. To recognize that one was not able to comprehend the information available and, because of it, made a misjudgment is an enormous thing to ask any human being.

Once in a lie, the tendency is to stick to it, in the hope that others will be convinced somewhere along the line, not realizing that it’s just an aggravation of the initial problem.

Whatever it is, it escapes me. And any reasonable mind. Especially when one remembers Madeleine.

Johnny's Egg

Nov 2nd, 2008

Let’s suppose that there is a carton with six eggs that lies on a kitchen-table (fact).

The kitchen has only one entrance (fact).

No one is in that kitchen (fact).

Johnny walks in the kitchen and closes the door (fact).

Two minutes later, Johnny opens the door and walks out (fact).

On the table, the carton now only has 5; an egg is missing (fact).

One broken egg lies on the floor (fact).

It was Johnny who broke the egg (assumption).

Adding up the facts, the assumption is natural. So is to assume that the broken egg is the one missing from the carton.

But they are assumptions, not facts.

No one saw Johnny break that egg.

And, most importantly, no one, unless Johnny confesses, will ever prove for a fact that Johnny broke that egg. EVER.

And he can deny it for as long as he lives. And he will certainly deny it if the penalty for breaking an egg is the death sentence or life imprisonment without parole.

Based on these assumptions the jury pronounced a “guilty” verdict.

I'm just trying to convey how I interpret the concept of “reasonable doubt”.

By the way, in this story (imagined by me), Johnny’s family, as they were leaving the court-room after hearing the sentence, claimed his innocence: “It’s now clear to all that no harm has come to that egg. It was abducted as Johnny always stated. The broken egg on the floor was placed there by the blunddering cops so that Johnny could and would take the blame! We will find that egg!”.

If you, like me, believe in Johnny’s guilt, I hope you realize that you, just like the jury above, condemned him based solely on your imagination.

Although the ONLY plausible scenario, was nonetheless all created by your imagination.

Innuendo, some would say.

Nobody saw him break the egg, so shouldn't he be presumed innocent?

And if you, like me, believe in Johnny’s guilt, it means that you are just an evil malignant spirited person who wants to pin that broken egg on poor, poor, saintly Johnny.

How can you live with your conscience?