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Thursday, December 31, 2009
Kelapa Gading in the last decade growing as independent city, a lots of malls, supermarkets, restaurants (locals, international cuisines), apartments, Banks, International Hospitals, car show rooms, real estates, International Schools - NJIS, Taipei, Kindergartens etc - , local scools. Everythings we can find it in this new city and one of the biggest shopping center in Jakarta.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
“Dreams Are Made of This” - A Child's Ability to Remember a Past Life
0 comments Posted by barongan at 7:03 PM
Reincarnation.
I’m not saying I believe…or not.
I’m just saying that one instance in my own childhood made the question far more compelling if the experience had not happened.
Children dream, as do adults, and sometimes those dreams, even for dreams, seem a wee bit too real.
Case in point, a dream I had at a very early age, four or five, that has always stayed with me, the images and the feelings more profound than any before or since.
The gist is as follows;
I’m flying over the farmland in Ontario, very near my birth home, diagonally, as the crow flies. Only in this dream, I have never seen the area before. I am arriving for the very first time and this flight is the flight I am taking just before I am born. Once I reach my house, the flight ends, I as the flyer disappear and I awake.
End of dream.
Not very spectacular, huh?
Not very spine-chilling, I know.
But something that I felt, which I can now only coin as a “Before-Birth Experience”, similar to After-Death experiences related by others, has stayed with me all these years. That I knew, even at that young age, that this dream wasn’t like other dreams. This one felt real, felt other-worldly, felt before I was me, before I existed as I do now.
Yeppers, you bet, I said nothing to no one for the longest time. I kept mum knowing full well that anyone I did tell would just poo-poo the experience as another one of Burb’s “Technicolor” 3D dream-state fantasies, as God knows, as does everyone else, I am never in short supply!
So I sat on the experience and accepted the norm that indeed it was my oh, so vivid imagination until I saw a documentary on reincarnation, that focused on children having the ability, over adults, to remember past lives they have lived prior to their present one.
Carol Bowman, M.S. author, lecturer, counsellor, past life regression therapist, and pioneer in reincarnation studies who operates the website resource, Past Life Centre, describes children’s past life experiences as follows;
“Many children remember their past lives-spontaneously, without hypnosis or prompting. Some as young as two and still in diapers blurt out, "I remember when I died before" or "My other mommy had curly hair". They often describe details that they had no way of learning in this life. Some remember startling personal details of relatives who died before they were born.
Only recently here in the West have children's past life memories been researched and documented. These memories have long been accepted in other cultures. Now we know that these memories happen naturally to young children in all countries of the world, regardless of the beliefs of their parents. They can happen any time to any very young child, but parents often don't notice because they don't know it's possible or don't know what to look for.
The vividness and emotional maturity with which toddlers relate facts from adult lives—and even tell of their deaths—signals that something extraordinary is happening here. These children have much to teach us. Children’s past life memories is a phenomenon with far-reaching implications for every person who is curious about the truth of reincarnation and wonders about their own past lives.”
It may be just a child’s ability to freely imagine over an adult’s structured imaginings.
It may be just fantasy or wishful thinking.
It may be, just as most surmise, a silly little dream.
Funny, though, that if that’s all it was, it has disturbed me and made me ponder all these decades, if I, my soul, actually did fly over Beaverdale, Ontario, on my way to this Life, the Life I am now living, from a prior Life lived?
It gives the term “death” a whole new meaning, that maybe, just maybe, defines an experience not as awful or as traumatic as we all tend to fear for ourselves.
By the way, just in case you’re wondering, I did tell my Mother years later, and by my demeanour she knew I wasn’t kidding and chose not to make fun of me or my experience…
But I can honestly say that I have never flown since…mores the pity, really.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Clique aqui e veja no meu blog, Pedaços de Mim, a poesia a Rosa de Gaza, de autoria do escritor GEORGES BOURDOUKAN,
Originalmente publicada por Bourdoukan em seu blog, o qual vale à pena visitar (BLOG DO BOURDOUKAN).
Sunday, December 27, 2009
It’s as easy as this:
- Write a blog post on YOUR BlogSpot which continues the conversation of one of B3’s blog posts
Our goal here at B3 is to start lively conversation on topics of interest that can spread and grow and mature and involve as many bloggers and readers as possible, that again, maybe the Power of the Pen can change thoughts, perceptions, outlooks on issues, small and trivial to large and paramount, thereby changing the world one blog post at a time!
Are YOU in?
Are YOU willing to continue the dialogue?
Do YOU believe in the Power of the Pen?
Do you wanna be An Official Burbie too?
Blog, Back Link and Blab to Burb…and you’re IN!
He had welknown in public since 1998 when he had the heart, critized the Goverment based on his own researchs. He had critized all running Indonesian Presidents, including Abdulrahmad Wahid and even The first man, Megawati's husband, Mr.Taufiek Kiemas, he had dare named him as R.I.1 and a half, as a powerfull politician.
So far we never heard, never care about what kind of bussiness belong to Susilo Bambang Yudoyono family members until recently show up in daily news said that 4 Institutions linked to the family, Yayasan Puri Cikeas, Yayasan Kesetiakawanan dan Kepedulian, Yajasan Majelis Dzikir SBY and Yayasan Mutu Manikan Nusantara.
I think its not difficult to set, to frame a Family tree of of every family. In Batak clans, its was usual had a family tree up to 15 - 17 generations. George had pictured 4 generations Family tree of Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono family, started from welknowm army General, Sarwo Edhie Wibowo, father in law, went down over his grand daughter, Almira Tunggadewi. But lingking the Family tree with the foundations and business, we never heard off. It was
According to Mr.Amir Syamsuddin, Demokrat Party General secretary - belong to The president party - believed that the books categorized as "the junk books", because no corelation whatsoever between the title and Century Bank case.
One red dot was the exact location of Jerusalem, near the green line, the border of two countries and one of disputed area where Israel kept house development for its citizen, where Palestinian opposed, refused to sign the peace agreement, hold a peace talks with Israel, unless house development around Jerusalem stop.
The above building was Church of Nativity, where Yesus born in an animal Stable when all accomodations fully booked, while all Jews paid a visit to Jerusalem for citizenship registration as Roman authority issued.
Under the church building on basement, an exact location marked by stars in the floor, birth place of Yesus Christ. To enter the church building we have to bend down, since the door too short for a man standing position. To see the stars of birth place, we cross the church aisle and took downstairs.
Friday, December 25, 2009
por Celso Lungaretti
É estranho como o autoritarismo está entranhado nas pessoas, mesmo nas que se dizem de esquerda: os leitores do site Vi o Mundo, do Luiz Carlos Azenha, ficaram em peso a favor da decisão do Gilmar Mendes, no caso de Sean Goldman.
Tomaram as dores do pai, que, no entender deles, merece a felicidade de recuperar seu filho. E, em nenhum momento, levaram em conta uma questão singela: mas, será essa a melhor solução para o Sean?
Afinal, ele tem nove anos e, com certeza, gostaria de dizer algo sobre a decisão do seu destino. Em nenhum momento lhe permitiram isto.
O que o ministro Marco Aurélio Mello determinou foi, única e tão somente, que se desse a Sean o direito de expressar seus sentimentos, ao final do recesso do STF. Ele não decidiu coisa nenhuma. Apenas, deu voz ao menino. Depois de ouvi-lo, os ministros do STF bateriam o martelo.
Aí chegou um senador atrabiliário dos EUA, ameaçando os exportadores brasileiros com um prejuízo de US$ 3 bilhões. E o Gilmar Mendes correu a capitular ante o ultimato do gringo, para que parasse de embargar a prorrogação por mais de um ano do acordo de isenção tarifária.
Eu acho inominável que a mais alta corte brasileira decida sob pressão. Será que perdemos até a mais ínfima noção de dignidade nacional?! Hoje nos prostituímos por US$ 3 bilhões. Mas, como foi fácil demais ganhar de nós no grito, o michê cairá. Logo vai ser qualquer punhado de dólares.
É claro que esse drama não passou uma sucessão de erros. Mas, a esta altura, o garoto já não pode ser ignorado como um incapaz, um mero tutelado, um simples joguete de decisões alheias. Sean já viveu tempo demais entre gente calorosa e efusiva. Não merecia ir para onde a vida se resume à corrida atrás da grana.
BLOOD ON THE TRACKS
De resto, os que reclamaram da minha "insensibilidade" , certamente ignoram que já passei por situação semelhante à do pai do Sean.
A lerdeza da Justiça brasileira, infelizmente, impediu que eu recuperasse a guarda da minha filha, que me foi subtraída em condições quase idênticas.
Depois de um trâmite exasperantemente moroso, o julgamento ocorreu duas semanas após eu ter perdido um emprego que mantinha há uma eternidade.
Desempregado aos 53 anos, é claro que juiz nenhum me concederia a guarda. Tratei de salvar os dedos, já que perdera os anéis: negociei o melhor esquema de visitas para mim. E saí do tribunal em frangalhos.
Aos poucos, refletindo sobre tudo que ocorrera, cheguei à conclusão que era melhor encarar esse desfecho bizarro como o veredicto do destino. Desisti de trazer minha filha para junto de mim, passando a esperar que, um dia, ela mesmo escolhesse ficar comigo.
Quando resolvi andar para a frente de novo, ao invés de passar dias e noites amargurado com a injustiça que sofrera, acabei consolidando uma nova relação, que se revelou duradoura.
Hoje estou casado e sou pai de outra menina, um anjinho de um ano e oito meses.
Enfim, colocamos filhos no mundo para que sejam felizes. É a felicidade deles que devemos priorizar, não a nossa. Há uma diferença.
Hoje percebo claramente que minha filha mais velha estaria muito melhor comigo, em todos os sentidos. E noto também que, mesmo assim, ela não tem consciência disso e prefere a vida à qual já se habituou, ao lado da mãe e de uma meia-irmã mais nova.
Está chegando à idade de oito anos. E eu respeito sua opção errônea. Ainda que fosse facílimo para mim, não recorreria à Justiça de novo, tentando mudar essa situação.
O caso do Sean é um tanto parecido. Afastado do pai há cinco anos, tendo perdido a mãe há 1,5 ano, construiu uma nova rede de afetos, com os parentes maternos e a irmãzinha. E ela está prestes a ir pelos ares.
Sua vida sofreu uma reviravolta drástica quando foi separado do pai; outra, quando a mãe morreu; e vai sofrer uma terceira agora, porque o Gilmar Mendes colocou os interesses dos exportadores na frente dos dele.
Acabará entrando em parafuso; é candidato certo aos divãs dos psicanalistas.
Gilmar Mendes tem o toque de Sadim (Midas ao contrário): transforma ouro em... vocês sabem o quê.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Then in my turn, in the second service at 6.30 pm, my self esteem had elevated after watching the other two readers in action, had prevented me of any possible mistakes.
I felt awesome, even later after the instructor extended her hand said :"Thank you, its very good, you got the feeling" she said with sincerely, big curve lips smile. She was the one beforehand, who worrisome if I didn't got Rendra, the author's feeling. I had thought she will never pretending praised my performance.
Praise only His name. Amin.I made it. I felt relieved, my shoulder's burden and tense relax, my breath's beat back to normal again.
This very Christmas, the Church decoration, the backdrop, carpet, even the shitrts of choir group all in black colour as a sign of misery, war enviroment, starving citizen, devastated trees, malfuntion of good institutions. To link this situation to the congregation, the songs and hymn tend to vow to the Lord, begging His mercy, praise the Lord of His generousity with request : "Let there be a peace on earth and let it begin with me".
Mário Maestri
La Insignia. Brasil, dezembro de 2006.
Não festejo e me faz mal o Natal por diversas razões, algumas fracas, outras mais fortes. Primeiro, sou ateu praticante e, sobretudo, adulto. Portanto, não participo da solução fácil e infantil de responsabilizar entidade superior, o tal de "pai eterno", pelos desastres espirituais e materiais de cuja produção e, sobretudo, necessária reparação, nós mesmos, humanos, somos responsáveis.
Sobretudo como historiador, não vejo como celebrar o natalício de personagem sobre o qual quase não temos informação positiva e não sabemos nada sobre a data, local e condições de nascimento. Personagem que, confesso, não me é simpático, mesmo na narrativa mítico-religiosa, pois amarelou na hora de liderar seu povo, mandando-o pagar o exigido pelo invasor romano: "Dai a deus o que é de deus, dai a César, o que é de César"!
O Natal me faz mal por constituir promoção mercadológica escandalosa que invade crescentemente o mundo exigindo que, sob a pena da imediata sanção moral e afetiva, a população, seja qual for o credo, caso o tenha, presenteie familiares, amigos, superiores e subalternos, para o gáudio do comércio e tristeza de suas finanças, numa redução miserável do valor do sentimento ao custo do presente.
Não festejo e me desgosta o Natal por ser momento de ritual mecânico de hipócrita fraternidade que, em vez de fortalecer a solidariedade agonizante em cada um de nós, reforça a pretensão da redenção e do poder do indivíduo, maldição mitológica do liberalismo, simbolizada na excelência do aniversariante, exclusivo e único demiurgo dos males sociais e espirituais da humanidade.
Desgosta-me o caráter anti-social e exclusivista de celebração que reúne egoísta apenas os membros da família restrita, mesmo os que não se freqüentaram e se suportaram durante o ano vencido, e não o farão, no ano vindouro. Festa que acolhe somente os estrangeiros incorporados por vínculos matrimoniais ao grupo familiar excelente, expulsos da cerimônia apenas ousam romper aqueles liames.
Horroriza-me o sentimento de falsa e melosa fraternidade geral, com que nos intoxica com impudícia crescente a grande mídia, ano após ano, quando a celebração aproxima-se, no contexto da contraditória santificação social do egoísmo e do individualismo, ao igual dos armistícios natalinos das grandes guerras que reforçavam, e ainda reforçam - vide o peru de Bush, no Iraque - o consenso sobre a bondade dos valores que justificavam o massacre de cada dia, interrompendo-o por uma noite apenas.
Não festejo o Natal porque, desde criança, como creio para muitíssimos de nós, a festa, não sei muito bem por que, constituía um momento de tensão e angústia, talvez por prometer sentimentos de paz e fraternidade há muito perdidos, substituindo-os pela comilança indigesta e a abertura sôfrega de presentes, ciumentamente cotejados com os cantos dos olhos aos dos outros presenteados.
Por tudo isso, celebro, sim, o Primeiro do Ano, festa plebéia, hedonista, aberta a todos, sem discursos melosos, celebrada na praça e na rua, no virar da noite, ao pipocar dos fogos lançados contra os céus. Celebro o Primeiro do Ano, tradição pagã, sem religião e cor, quando os extrovertidos abraçam os mais próximos e os introvertidos levantam tímidos a taça aos estranhos, despedindo-se com esperança de um ano mais ou menos pesado, mais ou menos frutífero, mais ou menos sofrido, na certeza renovada de que, enquanto houver vida e luta, haverá esperança.
Subscreve este texto como seu o editor deste blog, Adriano Espíndola
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Ha Muerto one of the great heroes of the revolution 65. Died (physically, they will live in our hearts) Manuel Montes Arache! EPD
I have been informed of the sad news of the death of one of the great heroes of the revolution of 1965, the dear and unforgettable friend, Manuel Ramón Montes Arache, who was the chief the brave and honorable men body Rana, without whom the history of patriotic deed in April would have been something entirely different. For me, Montes is a síimbolo Arache courage, bravery, courage and above all honesty and dignity. A man who never took a toll on his country for his stunning participation in the events of 65, while there are many who may or close they were and now call themselves "commanders." Commanders are many who still remain anonymous, then neither want nor will bill your home, then did what they had to do at such a difficult and momentous as this when needed homeland of their best sons to defend the national sovereignty tainted Foreign trampled by the boots.
Arache Montes lived in a modest apartment near the ISSFAPOL movies, no-frills .... but with his forehead very high and decorated by the greatest thing that can adorn a man: His dignity, his simplicity, humility and kindness.
never forget his last words to a very interesting interview that made my friend Mario Hidalgo, and said: "I am a mature fruit, but I have not leaked! If the country needs to wield a gun again, here I am ready!".
I have understood that his body be exposed in the Funeral Blandino, and then have a series of tributes (very, very well deserved) and I'm told, his remains will eventually be cremated and his ashes will be scattered in the bay The boilers on board a patrol of the MDGs, as were his last wishes in life.
Montes died fighting to the last minute of his life. He could not deny that still remained a true man frog! That most admirable value was that man! These people are unlikely to be repeated in this country! As I said, a true example of courage, simplicity, eduacion, courtesy, honesty and integrity!
Montes is the kind of man who always live in the hearts of people, a people who has always admired and respected!! A humble people who showed him how much he wanted when he Cedimat internal, which I witnessed dozens of humble people who are apresonaron to show their support and know many times as was the hero of April. Likewise I can I saw that very few military worry about the health of the Pro man, I watched a few general MDG visiting his former deputy chief of staff.
a hug and Ramses Manuel, as well as all his brothers and family for this loss not only saddened to them, but an entire country. These will be a Christmas a little sad, but such has been the will of the father. LM
Ha Muerto one of the great heroes of the revolution 65. Died (physically, they will live in our hearts) Manuel Montes Arache! EPD
I have been informed of the sad news of the death of one of the great heroes of the revolution of 1965, the dear and unforgettable friend, Manuel Ramón Montes Arache, who was the chief the brave and honorable men body Rana, without whom the history of patriotic deed in April would have been something entirely different. For me, Montes is a síimbolo Arache courage, bravery, courage and above all honesty and dignity. A man who never took a toll on his country for his stunning participation in the events of 65, while there are many who may or close they were and now call themselves "commanders." Commanders are many who still remain anonymous, then neither want nor will bill your home, then did what they had to do at such a difficult and momentous as this when needed homeland of their best sons to defend the national sovereignty tainted Foreign trampled by the boots.
Arache Montes lived in a modest apartment near the ISSFAPOL movies, no-frills .... but with his forehead very high and decorated by the greatest thing that can adorn a man: His dignity, his simplicity, humility and kindness.
never forget his last words to a very interesting interview that made my friend Mario Hidalgo, and said: "I am a mature fruit, but I have not leaked! If the country needs to wield a gun again, here I am ready!".
I have understood that his body be exposed in the Funeral Blandino, and then have a series of tributes (very, very well deserved) and I'm told, his remains will eventually be cremated and his ashes will be scattered in the bay The boilers on board a patrol of the MDGs, as were his last wishes in life.
Montes died fighting to the last minute of his life. He could not deny that still remained a true man frog! That most admirable value was that man! These people are unlikely to be repeated in this country! As I said, a true example of courage, simplicity, eduacion, courtesy, honesty and integrity!
Montes is the kind of man who always live in the hearts of people, a people who has always admired and respected!! A humble people who showed him how much he wanted when he Cedimat internal, which I witnessed dozens of humble people who are apresonaron to show their support and know many times as was the hero of April. Likewise I can I saw that very few military worry about the health of the Pro man, I watched a few general MDG visiting his former deputy chief of staff.
a hug and Ramses Manuel, as well as all his brothers and family for this loss not only saddened to them, but an entire country. These will be a Christmas a little sad, but such has been the will of the father. LM
It began, way back when, when I was six, seven or eight years old…
And it began with just only me…
Maybe because there is in this classic movie, a Christmas and New Years scene that the TV Gods, whoever they have been through the years, have seen fit to air this movie at this special time…
Or, it just could be that ratings sink into the toilet around Christmastime, so heck, air an oldie-but-a-goodie that’ll eat up some airtime while we execs go feel up our secretaries at the obligatory Christmas party!
Who knows…
But when you’re young, and you’ve been raised in the country, the raison d’etre of New York City execs almost never enters your mind…
And while it’s late, and you’re supposed to be in bed, but your parents are having yet another party in the Red Room (yes, my house was that large, that we named the rooms!), and have forgotten all about you, as you lay in front of the Christmas tree in the Blue Room gazing at a black and white portable TV (oh, and by the way, the manufacturing industry’s definition of “portable” was somethin’ else in those days!), a movie comes on, the likes of which, forever changes the way you view the holiday season from that night forward…
“Showboat”, was it’s name.
Made in 1951 by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 
starring none other than the silver screen siren, Ava Garner (movie poster at top), the incomparable soprano singing actress, Kathryn Grayson, the then popular leading man/baritone, Howard Keel (poster top and at right),
Joe E. Brown as Showboat Captain Andy Hawks
and superb baritone, 
William Warfield, whose memorable rendition of “Ol’ Man River” has only ever been duplicated by baritone singer and U.S. defector to Russia, Paul Robeson, who starred in the 1936 version of the same name. (Warfield singing, photos of singer Paul Robeson below)
The movie centres around a Mississippi show boat, its entertainers and how class and colour barriers eventually affect the futures of everyone on board.
Ava Garner is the boat’s premier star until her mulatto past catches up with her when her porcelain-white skin starts to darken with age, and as a result, she is forced off the boat, a saloon singer with no future, in the end.
In this scene with Grayson, before she is ostracized, Ava sings “Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man” in her own voice (MGM producers disliked Ava’s sultry voice and had singer Annette Warren do the voice-over for the released movie version instead, to everyone’s criticisms, I might add!)
This movie so parodies southern American Life back then, and to a lesser degree, became the swan-song movie for many in the cast.
If you do anything on your own this season, and find yourself alone in the room in which you have your Christmas tree, lay down on the carpet, turn off the lights but for the shimmering ones on the bows, turn on the TV tube and fall into the world the movie “Showboat” depicts.
Nothing you decide to do on your own this season will ever be more fine. I promise.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
CRIME HEDIONDO: bando armado e latifundiário torturam e assassinam camponeses
0 comments Posted by barongan at 9:33 AM
Em Buritis (RO), mais dois lutadores foram vítimas da crueldade e da sede de lucro insaciável do latifúndio. No dia 8 de dezembro, Élcio Machado e Gilson Gonçalves, coordenadores do acampamento Rio Alto, que abrigava quase cinquenta famílias, foram torturados e mortos por pistoleiros. O latifundiário Dilson Cadalto foi apontado como mandante do crime.
Leia o restante da matéria acessando o Blog Molotov, do PSTU, clique aqui.
the sexy guest author on B3 & TLB2>>>
I DO get weak in the knees…
But, tonight, it’s been made obviously clear to me (ahem!) that Dan is in need of some SERIOUS affection!
It seems as if Dan needs some wuv, some petting, some cuddling and NO ONE, but NO ONE is out there givin’ it to him!
The Horror, The Humanity….The Horror.
Now, it’s either the above…or ANOTHER guy named “Dan” is in LOVE with MY guy Dan!
The Horror, The Humanity…The Horror!
I’m PRAYING it’s the former, not the latter, as I see my artistic, free-wheeling, musical genius guy as ANYTHING but light in the paws, if you know what I mean…
I “think”, actually, the soul of Dennis Wilson of The Beach Boys is inhabiting Dan’s body, really…makes sense, doncha think, as Dennis never really had a full shot at satisfying his creative urges…I mean, 
diving down to the bottom of where his sloop was moored at Marina del Rey, and dying trying to retrieve mementos and a picture of the wife he loved the best, seems like a wholly, alcoholic-ridden, typically pathetic way to die, right?
Sooo, yes, that’s how I view MY Dan…I think I’m in direct communication with Dennis…hmmm, I don’t think Dan can surf though…I can…I wonder if Dennis’ soul would go with me?!!!
Sorry, I digressed there for a minute…
Lack of wuv and affection for my guy Danny…rrrrrrright, that’s what I’m talkin’ about! He NEEDS some, people!
He NEEDS to know you care.
He needs to know you’re there.
He needs to know you sense his cologne when you take a whiff of air.
He needs some comments on his posts, the newer or the old.
He needs to know that he is “real”, from you, he has been told.
If you, our viewers of B3, could spare a moment or two,
And write a message to my guy, he’d smile and say “Thank-you!”
“You’re insightful!”, “You’re the best!”, “You’re prose I hold dear to my chest!”
Just somethin’ , anything really, so Dan can stand out from the rest!
Without your wuv and affection, B3ers, I hate to surmise the end, of what was a well-ordered Comment gadget, has become a “Dan-In”, in Dan’s pen!
We wuv ya Danny…really!
