UMA GRAÇA PARA O FIM DO DIA

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2067

FONTE:  Julio Mello. 

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REALEZA BRITÂNICA

WILLIAM DE GLOUCESTER/1

História e Biografia
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CLXV- Cidades e soluções

METRÓPOLES/102

ANTÁRTIDA

FIM DO MUNDO

A CORRIDA PELO PETRÓLEO

 

 

 

(CONTINUA PRÓXIMA QUINTA)

 

FONTE:  Urbana

DIOGO VAZ PINTO

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Que o fim do i sirva de

mapa para outra coisa 

Na última edição de um jornal diário que ambicionou a ligeireza na profundidade, que soube contestar e romper com os estilos que têm estigmatizado o jornalismo, fazemos um esforço por assinalar a diferença e o carácter único deste título que tantas vezes só foi capaz de resistir porque soube ir buscar forças à sua clandestinidade.

𝐼𝑎 𝑎𝑐𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑟. 𝑁𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒, 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑖 𝑎̀ 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝜄́𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑗𝑎́ 𝑠𝑎𝑏𝜄́𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝜄́𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟. 𝑆𝑒𝑗𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟, 𝑜 𝑡𝜄́𝑡𝑢𝑙𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎̀ 𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑓𝜄́𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑠, 𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑗𝑎́ 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑎 𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑝𝑎, 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑠, 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑥𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑜 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜 𝑒́ 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑢𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒́𝑐𝑖𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑓𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎, 𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑥𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑖 𝑛𝑜 𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑐̧𝑎𝑑𝑎, 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑎́𝑣𝑒𝑖𝑠, 𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑜 𝑖 𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐̧𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒, 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑙ℎ𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑧𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑜𝑠 𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠, 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑜, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑧𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐̧𝑎𝑚 𝑗𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠.

𝑂 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜 𝑒́ 𝑞𝑢𝑒, 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝟷𝟹 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑢 𝑎𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑖, 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑢 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑚 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟, 𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑚 𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑓𝑎́𝑐𝑖𝑙 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑡𝑢𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑜𝑠𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑜. 𝑇𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑒́𝑚 𝑒́ 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒, 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑒́𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜, 𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟; 𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑎́𝑣𝑒𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑠 𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑎, 𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑚 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑛𝑜𝑙𝑜́𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑠. 𝑆𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑜 𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑁𝑜𝑣𝑜, 𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑢𝑚 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜, 𝑒 𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝜄́𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑓𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑎𝑝𝑜́𝑠 𝑑𝑒́𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒, 𝑞𝑢𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑎 𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜 𝑈𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑙, 𝑒́ 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑜 𝑜𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠, 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑠 𝑎𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑐𝑒𝑑𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑎, 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑜𝑙𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠, 𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑖 𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑧𝑖𝑎 𝑒, 𝑎̀𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠, 𝑗𝑎́ 𝑛𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑠, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑠, 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒, 𝑛𝑜 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜, 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎̂𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑧𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑜 𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜-𝑙ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑚, 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑖 𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐̧𝑎 𝑑𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝜄́𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎 𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎 𝑎 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜́𝑐𝑖𝑙 𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎. 𝐸𝑛𝑡𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑠, 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒́ 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑇𝑜𝑚 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓𝑒, 𝑛𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑢𝑡𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑙ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑙𝑒 𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝐸.𝑊. 𝐽𝑜ℎ𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑢𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜́𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑎́𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑜 𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝐽𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑜, 𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐̧𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎́ 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑒 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎 ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑔𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑠. “𝑂 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑝𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑙ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐̧𝑜 𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎́𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜́𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠. 𝐴 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑚. 𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑢𝜄́𝑑𝑎 ℎ𝑎́ 𝑑𝑒́𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑎́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑠. 𝑀𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑢𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑠𝑜: 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠, 𝑚𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑐𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑏𝑎𝑠𝑒 — 𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜́𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠 — 𝑡𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑖𝑟, 𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑚 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑠, 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑢 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑠. 𝑂𝑠 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑐̧𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑖𝑥𝑜. 𝑁𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑚 𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑠. 𝑂𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜́𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑚𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑜… 𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑠, 𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑙ℎ𝑜 𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑚𝜄́𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑜, 𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑎.ᐟ”

𝑅𝑒𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑁𝑎̃𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑢 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑖 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑖 𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎 𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑜 𝑖 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑐̧𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑝𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑜 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑢𝑠 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘, 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑎𝑠, 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑝𝑜̂𝑟 𝑎̀ 𝑣𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑣𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑒̂𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑙𝑎́. 𝐴𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑒𝑑𝑜, 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑎𝑡𝑒́ 𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑠, 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐̧𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑠𝑢𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜 𝑒, 𝑎̀ 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑐̧𝑎𝑣𝑎, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑐𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑐̧𝑜, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑐̧𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑟-𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑢𝑚 𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑜, 𝑑𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜́𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑎. 𝑁𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑢𝑚 𝑙𝑢𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝜄́𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑜, 𝑢𝑚 𝑠𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑜 𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑠𝑜, 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑧 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑒 𝑒𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝜄́𝑣𝑒𝑖𝑠, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜-𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐̧𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝜄́𝑚𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝜄́𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑏𝑒𝑟, 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑠 𝜄́𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑠, 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑜 𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒. 𝐸 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒, 𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑎, 𝑖𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑧 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒, 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜, 𝑎̀ 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑣𝑎. 𝐸𝑛𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑎-𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑒́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑢𝑧𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑢𝑚 𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑙. 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑣𝑎-𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑖 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑎𝑡𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐̧𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑠, 𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠, 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑠, 𝑐𝑖𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑠, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑒́𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑎 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑎̀ 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑜́𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑠 𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒́𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑟 𝑑𝑒 𝑣𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑠 𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑢𝑚 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑎. 𝐼𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑣𝑎-𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑧 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑖 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎́𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟. 𝐸 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑒, 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑙ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑙ℎ𝑎́𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 “𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑜 𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑜” (𝑁𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠).

𝑂 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜 𝑛𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑢𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑒̂𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑢 𝑚𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑎̀ 𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑝𝑎, 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒, 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑡𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑝𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑢𝑚 𝑔𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑜 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑚 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑛𝑢́𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑜 𝑧𝑒𝑟𝑜, 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎, 𝑎 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑚, 𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑔𝑜𝑠, 𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑎́𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑠 𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐̧𝑜. 𝑀𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑠𝑜́ 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑚 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑟 𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝜄́𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑜, 𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑟𝜄́𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑜, 𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑝𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑠, 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑖𝑠, 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑒 𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑠, 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑎𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑎́𝑟𝑑𝑢𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑜 𝑁𝐴𝑆𝐴. 𝐽𝑎́ 𝑒𝑢 𝑓𝑢𝑖 𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑎̀ 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎, 𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑔𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑎𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑠, 𝑒𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠. 𝐹𝑜𝑖 𝑜 𝐴𝑛𝑡𝑜́𝑛𝑖𝑜 𝑅𝑜𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒 𝑎𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑝𝑎. 𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚, 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑢𝑛𝑠 𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝐴𝑛𝑎 𝑆𝑎́ 𝐿𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑠, 𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎, 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑗𝑎́ 𝑖𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎.

𝑀𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜, 𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑗𝑎́ 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜, 𝑒𝑚 𝑚𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑠, 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑝𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑎́𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠, 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑙𝑢𝑧𝑖𝑢 𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑝𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠𝑜𝑠, 𝑎𝑢𝑑𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑠, 𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑠, 𝑓𝑟𝑎́𝑔𝑒𝑖𝑠, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠, 𝑢𝑛𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑧𝑎𝑠, 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑙ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑡𝑒́ 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑒𝑙ℎ𝑜𝑠, 𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑜 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠, 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜 𝑎̂𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑢𝑒́𝑚 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑚 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑎 𝑜𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑎. 𝐸 𝑎𝑙𝑖 𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎́𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑎, 𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒̂-𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑠, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑖 𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑙ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑜𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑢, 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑎́𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑚 𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑙ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑟-𝑠𝑒. 𝐴 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑎, 𝑎 𝑆𝜄́𝑙𝑣𝑖𝑎, 𝑎 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑎, 𝑎 𝐽𝑜𝑎𝑛𝑎, 𝑎 𝑅𝑖𝑡𝑎, 𝑎 𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑧… 𝑁𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑟 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐̧𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑒́𝑚 𝑚𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑢. 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑣𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑖 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠𝑎, 𝑒𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑜𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑒 𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑎̀ 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑓𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠; 𝑠𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑝𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑎 𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠, ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑒́𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑜𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑣𝑜 𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑣𝑜, 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑜, 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑏𝑜 𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟-𝑠𝑒 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙, 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑠 𝑧𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑚, 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑧 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑟 𝑜 𝑜𝑙ℎ𝑎𝑟, 𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎, 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎.

𝑈𝑚𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝐴𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑚, 𝑛𝑜 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑜 𝑖 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝜄́𝑡𝑢𝑙𝑜 𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑜́𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑜, 𝑠𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐̧𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑧, 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑖 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜, 𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑜́ 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑚 𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑚 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑗𝑎 𝑑𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟, 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑙ℎ𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑟 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑠, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑙ℎ𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒́𝑐𝑖𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑎̂𝑚𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑎, 𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑧, 𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑎𝑑𝑎, 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑙ℎ𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑚𝑎́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎. 𝑂 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎 𝑒́ 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑜𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎, 𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑎 𝑎𝑡𝑒́ 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑧𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑎̀ 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑟. 𝐸 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜, 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒́𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑎, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎, 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒́𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑝𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟-𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑎̀ 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑎, 𝑎 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑟, 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐̧𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑚𝑢́𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑒𝑚 𝑓𝑖𝑚. 𝐹𝑜𝑖 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒́𝑐𝑖𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑎𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒́ 𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑜. 𝑃𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟𝜄́𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑑𝑢𝑧𝑖𝑟 𝑢𝑚 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑎, 𝑒 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑝𝜄́𝑐𝑖𝑜, 𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟𝜄́𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑡𝑢𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑜𝑠𝑎 𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜, 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒 𝑜 𝑓𝑢𝑚𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝐻𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑒 𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒, 𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑙ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑠 𝑒 𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑒́𝑟𝑖𝑜 𝑎𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠, 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑜 𝑔𝑎𝑙𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑎̃. 𝐴𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑜 𝑡𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎-𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎, 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑧𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑢𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑎 𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐̧𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝜄́𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝜄́𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜. 𝐴𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑚 𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑟-𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑜́𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐̧𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜, 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐̧𝑎 𝑛𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑜𝑢 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜.

𝐻𝑜𝑗𝑒, 𝑜𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑜𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑜́𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑠, 𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎̂𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑠, 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑐̧𝑎 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑖𝑟 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑚 𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜. 𝑂 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑚 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑖 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜, 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 “𝑝𝑎𝜄́𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑎 𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑎̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎” (𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑜𝑠𝑜 𝑃𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠), 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝐴𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑙, 𝑛𝑜 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑠𝑎, 𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑟𝑎́𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑧𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎, 𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑢𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑡𝑜𝑠𝑐𝑎 𝑒 𝑓𝑎́𝑐𝑖𝑙 𝑑𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑙𝑎𝑟, 𝑐𝑎𝜄́𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑚 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑠 𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑎𝑠. 𝑉𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑎 𝑒𝑥𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝜄́𝑜𝑑𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑢, 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑑𝑟𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑥𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑜, “𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑒̂𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑜 𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟” (𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑜𝑠𝑜 𝑃𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠). 𝐴𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑚, 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑜 𝑠𝑒́𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑢 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑛𝑐̧𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑙ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑗𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑚 𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑎, 𝑎 𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑐̧𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑚 𝑑𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑜 𝑑𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑎 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑒 𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑠, 𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑒 𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑜𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑖𝑠, 𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑚 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝜄́𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑙𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑠 𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑚 𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒 𝑜 𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑜 𝑎̀ 𝑡𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑑𝑜 𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑜𝑐𝑟𝑎́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑢𝑚 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎. 𝑅𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝜄́𝑧𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠, 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜, 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑠, 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑎́𝑣𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑢𝑚 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑠𝑎 𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑎, 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑎, 𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑜, 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑧 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑟-𝑠𝑒 𝑒𝑚 𝑐𝑎́𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒.

𝑁𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠, 𝑎 𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎, 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑎́𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟: 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑢𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑙, 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑜́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑖𝑜𝑠 𝑎 𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑜𝑐𝑟𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎. 𝑀𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑎 𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑒́𝑚 𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑢́𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑜, 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐̧𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑝𝑎́𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑐̧𝑎𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠, 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒́𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑙𝑜́𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑥𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑢́𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑚, 𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑢́𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑢𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒́𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠, 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑎 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑜́𝑟𝑔𝑎̃𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜. 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑎̀𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑢́𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑢́𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑢 𝑣𝑖 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑚 𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑙ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑎, 𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑒𝑚 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝜄́𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑎, 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑎𝑖𝑠, 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟-𝑙ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑔𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒, 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑒́ 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑎. 𝑄𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑟, 𝑔𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑙ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐̧𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜, 𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑟 𝑒 𝑎 𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑒́ 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝜄́𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑎́𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑜: 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑎 𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠, 𝑜𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑜 𝑒 𝑎 𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑚 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑙𝑢𝑧 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎, 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐̧𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜-𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑖𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑠 𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜, 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑟𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑒 𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑠, 𝑢𝑚 𝑡𝑜𝑚 𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑡𝜄́𝑣𝑒𝑙.

𝐸́ 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑚 𝑜𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠: 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑢́𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑜𝑠, 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑜́𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑠, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑚 𝑢𝑚 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑙𝑢𝑔𝑎𝑟, 𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑜𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑢𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝜄́𝑠 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑖 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑏 𝑎 𝑡𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑠. 𝑂 𝑓𝑖𝑚 𝑑𝑜 𝑖 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒́ 𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑚 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑖𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑎̃𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑢 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑙ℎ𝑎 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑔𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝜄́𝑐𝑖𝑎. 𝑂 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑐𝑜, 𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑜, 𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟.

“𝑂 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎́ 𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎”, 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝐾𝑎𝑟𝑙 𝐾𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑠. “𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑠 𝑗𝑎́ 𝑛𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑚, 𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑒́𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑙ℎ𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑧𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑜𝑠. (…) 𝐴 𝑐𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎́ 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑚. 𝑂 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝑗𝑎́ 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑙 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑎.” 𝐸 𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑢𝑚 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜, 𝑛𝑢𝑚 𝑝𝑎𝜄́𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜 𝑎̀ 𝑐𝑟𝜄́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐̧𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑢𝑚 𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑜 𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑢𝑚 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑜 𝑣𝜄́𝑐𝑖𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑙, 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜-𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜 𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑜.

𝑆𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑎 𝑢𝑚 𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑜, 𝐾𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 “𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑟 𝑒́ 𝑎 𝑢́𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑡𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑑𝑎”. 𝐸 𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑥𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑎 ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒, 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑜𝑠 𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜, 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑟𝜄́𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑚 𝑒𝑚 𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 “𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑚 𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑜𝑠”. 𝐸́ 𝑢𝑚 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑜, 𝑠𝑒𝑗𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑜𝑙𝑜́𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑎, 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑗𝑎𝑚 𝑜́𝑟𝑔𝑎̃𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑜́𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑠, 𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑙𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜 𝑜 𝑡𝑖𝑝𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑜́𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑑𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒. 𝑆𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑙ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑎, 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐̧𝑜𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑙𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑝𝑜́𝑙𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑣𝑎𝑖 𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑎̀ 𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑙𝑎̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑙. 𝐴 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑥𝑎𝑟 𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑚 𝑏𝑟𝑢𝑡𝑜, 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑜 𝜄́𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑜, 𝑎̀ 𝑢𝑟𝑔𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑢𝑚 𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜 𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑝𝑎́𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎 𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑜, 𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎, 𝑒 𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑏𝑜𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑎́𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑖𝑠, 𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑒́𝑑𝑖𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑐̧𝑎𝑚 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐̧𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒, 𝑒𝑚 𝑣𝑒𝑧 𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑧 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜́𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑎, 𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑧 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑠 𝑧𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟.

𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑂 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑒́ 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑎́𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜́𝑟𝑖𝑎, 𝑔𝑒́𝑚𝑒𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑠, 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒́ 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑧𝑜𝑛𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑎, 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑟, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝜄́𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎𝑑𝑎, 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑚𝑢́𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑜́ 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑐𝑜𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑒̂𝑚 𝑜𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑗𝑎́ 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑎𝑗𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎́𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑟. 𝑄𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒. 𝐹𝑜𝑖 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑜 𝑚𝑒́𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜, 𝑒 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑢́𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑡𝑒́𝑐𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑎. 𝑂𝑟𝑎, 𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑢 𝑑𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑠, 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑧𝑖𝑟 𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒. 𝑀𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟-𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝑑𝑎 𝑜𝑏𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑢𝑑𝑒́𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒́ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙. 𝐸 𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑗𝑎́ 𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑒́𝑚 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑑𝑟𝑜 𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑜𝑠, 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑜𝑠, 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑖𝑟 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜, 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑎. 𝐸 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑙ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑢𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑎 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑒𝑛𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑎́-𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑐𝑐̧𝑜̃𝑒𝑠. 𝑂𝑟𝑎, 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑠, 𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑚𝑒, 𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝜄́𝑠, 𝑛𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑒, 𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑒́𝑚 𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒, ℎ𝑜𝑗𝑒, 𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑣𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑔𝜄́𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎́𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎.

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚 𝑙𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑡𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑡𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑎̃𝑜, 𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝜄́𝑣𝑖𝑜, 𝑑𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑜𝑠, 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑎 𝑎̀ 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎, 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑙 𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑙𝑢𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑎́𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑧𝑒𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑙ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐̧𝑎𝑚 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑟 𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜. 𝑂 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑖 𝑛𝑎̃𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑧 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑜, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑖 𝑜 𝑢́𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑢́𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑙, 𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑢 𝑡𝑜𝑚 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑛𝑢𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑟𝑜́𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑜, 𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝜄́𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑜, 𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐̧𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑓𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟 𝑜 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑟𝑜, 𝑠𝑒𝑚 𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒́ 𝑡𝜄́𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑜́𝑟𝑔𝑎̃𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒̂𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒, 𝑛𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒, 𝑠𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑣𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑜 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑗𝑎𝑚 𝑜́𝑟𝑔𝑎̃𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑐̧𝑎𝑟𝑎́ 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑎𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙, 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑎, 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝜄́𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑎̀ 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑢𝑚𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑐̧𝑎̃𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑚 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑒́ 𝑜𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝜄́𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑜́ 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑏𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑢́𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠, 𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑚, 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑚 𝑒𝑚 𝑠𝑖 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑣𝑟𝑎𝑠.

* Jornalista

IN "iN"-29/07/25

NR: Estamos tristes, temos muita pena, embora a matriz ideológica do jornal não seja a nossa opção de vida gostávamos da insubmissão que demonstrava. Desejamos que todos os profissionais encontrem muito em breve um novo sítio para trabalhar. .

4134-UNIÃO

EUROPEIA

 

ENTRE CHACINAS E OPRESSÃO NAZI, PRECISAMOS DE UMA PRAIA LIMPA PARA DESCONTRAIR

Quais são os locais mais limpos

para tomar banho na Europa?

.

FONTE:   Euronews em Português-30/07/25

NR: Em GAZA morre-se de doença e fome brutal, há crianças que morrem de sede, a preocupação jornalística da Euronews é indicar um bom lugar para tomar uma banhoca.

 putin  HUYLO

putin é um canalha

trump is also a killer

 of innocent people Ukrainians

.

R.E.M.

Everybody Hurts

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ⱮʋƖɦҽɾҽʂ Ɑʂʂąʂʂíղąʂ

45.3 - A ɱσɾte ɗe peɾtσ 🔨🔥🔪💃👭

FONTE:MONSTROS ENTRE NÓS

·ï¡÷¡ï·𝓡𝓞𝓣𝓔𝓘𝓡𝓞 𝓓𝓞 𝓢𝓐𝓑𝓔𝓡·ï¡÷¡ï·

𝟷5-𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓉𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑜 𝓊𝓂 𝐼𝓂𝓅𝑒́𝓇𝒾𝑜

𝟷𝟻.𝟾-𝒪 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑒́𝓇𝒾𝑜 𝒪𝓉𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑜

FONTE:Zanegrey Mançano Bessa

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Para cozer os miolos/423/4

IN ILLO TEMPORE

MACHO JÁ ERA ASSIM 

 

 

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‘só os tolos nα̃o têm medo’

𝕌𝕞𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞 𝕦𝕞𝕒 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕕𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕕𝕖

𝕕𝕖𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕒 𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕒𝕖́𝕣𝕖𝕒 𝕦𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕒 

 

 

 * Mal equipados e cansados: a AFP passou uma noite acompanhando uma unidade de defesa antiaérea na Ucrânia. 

Os militares usam equipamentos da era soviética enquanto a Rússia exibiu há alguns dias o que chamou de ‘a maior fábrica do mundo de drones’. Moscou lança centenas desses equipamentos baratos e cada vez mais sofisticados contra o inimigo e a guerra de mais de três anos de duração ainda parece longe do fim...

 

 

FONTE:  AFP Português-30/07/25. .

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POSTAL DO DIA

pσɾ LUÍS OSÓRIO

25/07/25

Não te admires

se eu não voltar

 

FONTE:   Antena 1.

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Em Nome de Pαlestınα

O Grıto Que Ecoou no Alentejo

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CONTRA OS JUDEUS ASSASSINOS

 

 

 

 FONTE:  O Regiões-28/07/25 .

 

SE A VIDA LHE INTERESSAR,

MAIS A INTELIGÊNCIA DAS MULHERES

4226

Senso d'hoje

ISABEL DO CARMO

MÉDICA

ENDOCRINOLOGISTA

ESPECIALISTA EM

DIABETES E NUTRUÇÃO

PROFESSORA UNIVERSITÁRIA

ANTIFASCISTA

ACTIVISTA POLÍTICA E SOCIAL

CIDADÃ PORTUGUESA

#DONA DE CASA#
-PRIVAÇÃO

- Brigadas revolucionárias

- Partido revolucionário

do proletariado

- Acusada de extremismo

-A vida na prisão

- O caos mental

"Que força tem uma causa para

nos submetermos à escassez?"

* Programa "DONA DE CASA" com moderação de CATARINA MARQUES RODRIGUES .

FONTE:  Antena 3  -26/07/25

NR: CATARINA MARQUES RODRIGUES tem a inteligência de saber escolher os entrevistados a quem inteligentemente sabe fazer perguntas. O nosso Bem Haja..

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PAVÃO DO CONGO

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BOM DIA

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