Bunissima

Lately, I started running. I do this in the evening because I never wake up early enough and the rest of the day is really hot. All this happens on a road along a river, where people not only jog and walk but also gather on the side of the road in groups for different reasons. Some come there to smoke and thus give the wonderful opportunity of smoking for free while jogging to the people who jog, some come there to walk their dogs, some to stuck thier tongues in their boyfriens/girlfriend’s throats (get-a-room!), some to fish, some just to STARE or combine all these. But mostly yes, allcaps, S-T-A-R-E, you get the point, annoying, intense staring.

“Si in alte stiri ale zilei, un barbat care locuieste la etajul doi intr-un apartament dintr-un cartier din Bucuresti si-a batut sotia pentru ca aceasta cumparase castraveti de gradina. Conform martorilor, vecinul voia castraveti in folie, pentru ca arata mai bine. Drept urmare si-a batut sotia si a lasat-o fara bani de cumparaturi pentru doua zile.
Biata femei ne marturiseste chiar acum de la locul faptei, Andrei, ai legatura!”
“Se pare ca omul s-a infuriat foarte tare cand a vazut castravetii de gradina si si-a iesit din minti, a inceput sa dea in femeie cu ce a apucat, inclusiv cu castravetii, iar dupa aceea a luat-o la palme. Doamna spuneti-ne si dumneavoastra cum s-a petrecut totul”
“Pai domne, eu am venit cu castravetii si el s-a suparat ca nu am luat din aia scumpii, da’ de ce sa iau io din aia scumpii, ca nu avem atatia bani, traim si noi din pensie… cred ca i s-a urcat la cap toate mofturile alora de le televizor…”
“Multumesc doamna, e suficient, Andreea, ai legatura!”

pentru ca ei stiu unde este Romania si nu toti americanii stiu? si pentru ca toti romanii stiu unde sunt Tonga, Burma, Oman?
nu, raspuns gresit.
noi suntem mai destepti pentru ca suntem foarte creativi si inventivi. totul se invarteste, nimic nu se pierde.
acestea fiind zise, in graficul urmator veti putea avea o prima imagine a acestei invarteli de natura tehnologica pe care romanii stiu sa o foloseasca spre beneficiul lor.

este o simpla usa, dragilor, o simpla usa de la buda unui camin din Bucuresti, nu conteaza ce se ascunde in spatele ei

desi nu e nimic nou aici aveti descrierea completa a inteligentei mioritice a romanilor

nu stiu de ce, dar am impresia ca in Romania nu se primesc suficiente premii pentru creativitate si inventii. cum ziceau aia de la Vama Veche, americanii-s de vina…

So, as an ending for tonight’s thrilogy (more like a 4-logy, if that word exists), I must speak about the wonderful adventures in the Narnia of electricity. I kid you not. It has been a fantastic adventure I have been going through since my laptop decided it does not like Romanian electricity anymore (probably longing for the native plugs, where it used to have better offer than the Romanian electricity company has to offer - yes, there’s only one, to not leave place for doubts).
But let me rewind, and take you to beggining of this whole adventure.
At first, there was nothing but a couple of broken plugs. Summonig the good forces, we made it so that these were taken care of by a very skilfull electrician from around these parts of the world, who has made sure that the plugs will not ever bring ay grief.
And then, some others broke out in a heresy, defying all that was good and fair. But this was also taken care of by the already familiar character, the famous electrician now known around the entire shire for being the saviour of the plugs that take the wrong path.

There were some other nights when the Ruler of all plugs was showing some discontent, making all kinds of noises and flames and buzzing like it was annoyed by some evil force floating around in the air. It has all been ignored, because no major damage or obvious results, erm … resulted.
But last night was different. Sometimes, me and my best mate, my HP P-Cee, decide to move from one place to another to explore new possibilities of fighting and defeating the evil, by trying new plugs. And the Ruler of all plugs started buzzing and groaning and moaning and sparkling flames at us in a defying attitude, like he did not want us to be there.
So we left the plug, but I guess it was a bit too late because the Ruler did not stop his terrible and scary menace. At some point some other P-Cees around the territory started having funny behaviours and speech impediments, talking in a red language, saying they can’t go on like this.
So, the brave warrior that always does what she pleases, decided it’s about time to have a talk with the Ruler of all plugs, as scary as it was.

And the result was disastrous.

Its rather impertinent evil Pawns tottaly took down the warrior that was figting for the good of all plugs, of the all mighty Internet and for all the scared P-Cees. Here’s how the pawns looked, be wary of their power:

And this is how they looked after sacrificing their lives, so they can take out all the life from the plugs that bring happiness to folks:

But the fight was not over yet. The electrician was called again, with hope and some money tied on a rope. And waited for hours and hours that for the inhabitants of this shire, seemed like centuries. Eventually, the ugly truth has come to the surface. He deserted. He was too tired fighting the Ruler and also announced that he was not going to be available for the next centuries because of some pagan holidays, like Sunday, and Monday, because for some reason, this Monday is not a working day.

We assesed all the possibilities. The Aunt might have known about some other electrician that was a trusted warrior. She did not.

The Electrica SA, or whatever the family name was, the evil and yet reasonable ruler of all Rulers cut it shortly saying they do not deal with it and that we should call a friend.

So we called our Sister. She suggested we should try different combinations between the pawns of the Ruler and see if the pawns were dead or if the Ruler of all plugs itself was dead. Apparenlty just the pawns of the plugs. Not the Ruler, not the pawns of the light bulbs from the shire.
From then on, there were two options. Find some new pawns, or switch the light bulb pawns with the plug pawns.
After a walk in the crude terrible rain throughout the entire territory where all the pawn shops were closed and hope as well, we decided to go to plan #2. Evil and risky but better than just getting bored to death. Switch the pawns. Vote was unanimous. Celebration came. Wine was poured and cookies eaten.

All the inhabitants were happy to give up light when they wash their hands so their P-Cees can light their ways.

And so it happened. Wired was the word.

And it was worthed. Everyone was happy.

Never was this adventure forgotten. Stories are still being told, even without light bulbs but with one plug… the only one that survived the war.

I was having one of those days, feeling melancholic about making a good home made pizza with whatever toppings I wanted, wherever I wanted them and in the quantity I wanted them.
So, I go to the store and buy everything. Everything except the mozzarella. The local stores never have mozzarella. And if one has it, it won’t be for long. I don’t understand why. If people bought it as long as the store had it, it means it sells. But probably not fast enough for them, since they do not bring it back, because it might keep the shelf space that was other way dedicated to the pre-packaged, sliced cheese, 4 pieces a package- that surely costs less and sells faster. Also makes you eat less. 4 in one, as they’d say.
So, after buying everything for my deee-licios, wonderful pizza ( I am a great cook, to be honest), I see that they were having some more cheeses behind the counter and since I could not see everything they had there because the lady kept going back and forth juggling with tomatos, I asked if they had any mozzarella, by chance.
And, being a national and international issue, I just had to be informed. Also probably because i was one of the two people that had asked about mozzarella there in the entire year. The lady at the counter, selling the cheeses and fruits and all, was not just a simple … lady at the counter. No sir’ee, she was also very informed and up to date with the latest news in the food industry and consumer safety.
Not only like a mother, but as a person responsible with the health of the consumer society, she let me know that mozzarella has now been withdrawn from the market because it contains some carcinogenic ingredients or protein of sorts, and untill this is not proven differently, it will not be on the market anymore. So, deeply doubting that fact, and the forthcoming original pizza I was going to make, I realized with regret that there was no mozzarella in that place and in any of the local stores I usually go to. So, I cooperatively asked what kind of ro-ma-ni-an cheese I could get to replace the, oh, so unique, mozzarella. She recommended Penteleu, a soft cheese.
Still hoping to find mozzarella, as bad as it was for my health (pizza is not complete without mozzarella no matter what type of cancer it can bring) I went to the other store. No surprise there, and no mozzarella either. So I got some milk. No, no, I wasn’t gonna make my own mozzarella, I don’t have them… what do you call it, mozzarella making machines, I just wanted to have some of the new super great breakfast cereals, that help you mantain weight, with the condition to exercise regularly and eat moderately. I thought it was worth a non-regular, one-time (to be moderate) try.
And, so, I ended up with Penteleu. A soft cheese coming straight form the milky mountains of Romania and it’s wonderful mozzarella-like cows.

Good for pizza too. Feels like a mozzarella that never gets fully… cooked. Does not ruin the pizza, just makes it feel very “fresh”.

Even so, I still had to find out the truth, because as a Judas that I was, I doubted what the lady said until I was going to see it with my own eyes. What was the truth behind the lady’s words? Was it true that mozzarella is so bad or was she just getting it all wrong? After all , mozzarella is just a cheese, cheese can’t be bad for you, it just makes no sense.
I of course looked online. After finding a lot of pages in italian and portuguese and getting the idea that it was just a national problem in Italy and only with the buffalo milk and not the cow’s milk, I also found a page in english that confirmed all my doubts.
So, the question is, what do the Italian buffalos have to do with romanian mozzarella cow’s cheese?
I tell you, consumer safety.

Oare dumnezeu a facut biserica sau biserica l-a facut pe dumnezeu?

Una dintre saptamanile trecute- sa fie una, doua, trei, nu mai stiu- am avut una din zilele acelea in care desi aveam ceva de facut la calculator - intotdeuna exista ceva de facut la calculator- atentia mi-a fost atrasa de un film care se difuza pe Pro TV. Nu mai stiam exact cum se numea filmul, si cum curiozitatea ma imboldea, m-am dus pe tv.acasa.ro si am aflat. Era vorba de “Pact cu diavolul.” Insa probabil ca nimeni nu stie ce film e ala “Pact cu diavolul.”
Ei bine, intr-adevar, filmul “Pact cu diavolul” nu exista decat in… romana. Acum, nu ca m-ar deranja, trebuie sa aducem si noi un strop de originalitate, fie el si in traducerea unui film precum “Devil’s advocate.” De fapt, m-am gandit foarte mult la cum se va fi ajuns la aceasta traducere originala. Si trebuie sa va spun ca nu mica mi-a fost mirarea cand am avut cateva revelatii in legatura cu aceasta originala traducere si toate chinurile facerii ei. So, picture this.
Prima saptamana.
Managerul, sau persoana de la Pro TV care se ocupa de supervizor-izarea traducerilor denumirii filmelor vede numele filmului, in engleza, pe lista difuzarilor ce vor urma in doua saptamani.
Se duce direct la Radu si la Andreea, traducatorii principali ai filmelor thriller/groaza/SF/whatever din engleza care se difuzeaza dupa orele 20.00, si le spune asa:
“Bai, fiti atenti, avem o problema serioasa. Adica vor sa difuzeze astia din nou filmu’ ala cu avocatu’ si cu Al Pacino, filmu’ ala se numeste ‘Devil’s Advocate’ in engleza. Acum, stiu ca probabil va intrebati de ce vin eu in persoana la voi sa va vorbesc despre asta” spuse el, aratand cu cana de cafea de parca ar fi fost extensia mainii lui drepte, cautand din ochi confirmarea muta a celor carora li se adresa cana respectiva,” hmm, hmmm, nu-i asa ca sunteti curiosi? Ei hai ma baieti, ce, intervin eu cand nu e treaba mea?! Da’ tre sa va spun acum, ca un crestin cinstit ce sunt, cu familie si copii la care tin mai mult ca la ochii din cap, spuse el privind cu intensitate catre ecranul unde era proiectata reclama la Durex (aici niste rasete infundate se aud de undeva), ei bine, eu nu vreau ca pe postul nostru de televiziune sa se difuzeze un film care se numeste ‘Avocatul diavolului’ pentru ca se intelege foarte usor si de la sine, daca va ganditi logic o clipa ca e acelasi lucru cu ‘Avocatul dracului’. Acum, sa nu va treaca prin cap nici o clipa sa traduceti asa, chiar daca asta inseamna sa adptati si voi, sa gasiti ceva echivalent dar mai bland asa… folositi-va mintea mai baieti, ca de-aia o aveti, ce dracului,” zise el enervat cand vazu privirile fruste ale subordonatilor lui.
A doua saptamana.
Stiti cum sunt femeile grijulii. Andreea isi aduse aminte ca aveau de tradus titlul unui film care nu se cadea sa fie tradus mot-a-mot din engleza.
“Bai Radule, ia ia mana de pe World of Warcraft si fa si tu ceva util, gaseste si tu o traducere pentru filmu’ ala de care ne-a zis sefu’… hai, ce te uiti asa cu ciuda la mine, nu stii ca jocurile ela nu sunt adevarate, e o pierdere de timp…”
“Ba Andreea, io nu iti spun tie sa nu mai citesti barfele alea de doi bani de la sectiunea mondena de pe [numele publicatiei- probabil Can-Can, ca sunt cei mai credibili], ca nu-ti imbunatatesc cu nimic viata.” Vazand ca Andreea se imbufneaza ii spuse impaciuitor “Vezi daca jocul meu e o iluzie, la fel si interesele tale in viata altora. Mai bine facem treaba impreuna, ce zici? In fond nu ai vrea sa am eu toate meritele daca-l traduc, nu?”
“Da ma, da hai bbine, daca zici tu…”
“OK, eu zic sa facem asa, o luam prin excludere. Deci, nu putem Avocatul diavolului, cum s-ar traduce mot-a-mot din engleza, ca noi nu traducem asa fara sa gandim la intelesul de ansamblu, la… tot ansamblul ma intelegi… Deci avocatul dracului nici atat, ca asa a zis sefu’…”
“Ma, da ‘al dracului avocat’ ce ar avea, in fond are doua avantaje: nu e unul dintre titlurile pe care ne-a spus sefu’ sa le evitam si in al doilea rand, pastreaza ideea generala fara sa o copieze intocmai… adica ce zic eu, e perfect!”
“NUNUNU, nu se poate, are cuvantul …” inainte de a spune sa uita imprejur si apoi sopti, facand ochii mari ” drac, are cuvantul drac!” spuse el dand din cap cerand parca aprobare.
“Parol, parol, atunci ce ne facem?!”
“Pai ce crezi ca faem?! … luam o pauza de cafea, hai la o tigara!”
“Bine.”
Dupa 20 de minute.
“Ok, in timp ce tu salivai dupa Diana si dupa fusta ei scurta, eu m-am gandit la ceva. Ce-ar fi sa il traducem ‘Avocatul naibii’?” spuse ea triumfatoare.
“Ma Andreea, io ti-am spus tie, nu putem sa folosim nici un echivalent al cuvantului… (iar se uita imprejur sa nu-l auda nimeni) drac, drac ma intelegi?!?” zise tare, “si mai ales in aceasta ordine: avocat + drac sau diavol sau naiba sau satana sau belzebuth sau necurat sau nevazut sau incornorat sau ..cum dracu’ i-o mai spune” zise el ramanand fara idei.
“Bine… bine, zi-i si tu asa, ca io am crezut ca doar drac sau diavol nu putem folosi. ”
“Uite ce, mai avem cateva zile, sefu o sa vina si o sa ne intrebe si noi ce-i spunem, ca am frecat menta si ca ne-am stors creierii da’ ca nu suntem noi aia care au facut filmu’ si nu ne putem asuma o asa raspundere, sa traducem noi titlul unui film asa de … periculos, cu draci si alte alea!!”
“Radu, alo, alo, tu ai vazut ma filmu?” El ridica din umeri.
“Ok e vorba de unu care e fiu de drac…”
“SSssst, nu mai zice cuvantu’ asta ca imi da fiori pe sira spinarii!”
“Bine tac-su e Satana. Si il gaseste si il angajeaza la firma lui si ii spune ca daca vrea sa aiba tot ce pe lumea asta, trebuie sa se culce cu sora-sa ca sa aiba un urmas demn de toti, anticristul. Si avocatu’ asta nu vrea sa faca intelegerea si se impusca, da’ sa vezi, ca dup-aia isi da seama ca a fost totul doar un fel de premonitie, imaginatie, sau asa ceva…”
“Aha. ce zici de ‘Tatal avocatului’?”
“Nu ba, tre sa pastram si ceva interesant in titlu’. Asa nu o sa se mai uite nimeni, asa cum s-a intamplat cu ‘Black Hawk down’ care a fost tradus ca si ‘Elicopter la pamant’, nu stii ce rating prost a avut, suna ca un film ieftin si de duzina, nu ca unu’ super interesant si de actiune.”
“Bine, bine, ai zis ceva de o intelegere intre tac-su si avocat… sa-i zicem ‘Contract cu diavolul’!”
“Ba, nu e rau… doar ca ala n-a facut nici un contract in cele din urma… adica nu e vorba de un contract propriu-zis..”
“Bine, ma duc sa caut niste sinonime pentru ‘contract’…”
“Lasa, nu te mai deranja, ca stiu eu… ii zicem ‘Pact cu diavolul’, e mai bine.”
“Da, da’ nu ne-a zis sefu ‘ totusi sa nu folosim ‘diavol’ in titlu?”
“Nu ma ca nu mai e ‘avocat’, e doar ‘diavol’, ideea e alta, deci solutia era simpla de la inceput, de fapt nu trebuia sa folosim ‘avocat’.”

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