Tempos felizes, em que os jornais se lembravam dos petizes.
"No dia 1 de dezembro de 1925, o jornal O Século dava início à publicação de um suplemento semanal, às 3.ªs feiras, dedicado ao público infantil. Tratava-se doPimPamPum!, que fica agora disponível na Hemeroteca Digital, aqui.
Integrando-se numa tendência comum a grande parte dos jornais importantes nessa segunda década
do século XX, o PimPamPum tornou-se percursor e em larga medida o modelo e exemplo seguido
pelos restantes suplementos infantis. Foi também um fenómeno de longevidade, com 2554 números
editados durante 52 anos, pelo que estamos certos que este título evocará infâncias de várias gerações"
Explicou, também, que a literacia na saúde não depende exclusivamente do setor, mas da literacia de um determinado público ou sociedade, de aspetos socioeconómicos e das desigualdades existentes. Para o orador, é essencial existir uma uniformidade na comunicação entre todos os intervenientes, desde os hospitais até às farmácias. Para que isto seja possível, Constantino Sakellarides defende a ideia de que é necessário existir uma “biblioteca digital ou física”, onde os profissionais possam compartilhar ideias e enriquecer os seus conhecimentos no que se refere à informação e comunicação.
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son? And where have you been my darling young one? I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you see, my blue eyed son? And what did you see, my darling young one? I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin' I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin' I saw a white ladder all covered with water I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son? And what did you hear, my darling young one? I heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warnin' I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin' I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin' I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin' Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you meet my blue-eyed son ? Who did you meet, my darling young one? I met a young child beside a dead pony I met a white man who walked a black dog I met a young woman whose body was burning I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow I met one man who was wounded in love I met another man who was wounded in hatred And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son? And what'll you do now my darling young one? I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin' I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest Where the people are a many and their hands are all empty Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison And the executioner's face is always well hidden Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten Where black is the color, where none is the number And I'll tell and speak it and think it and breathe it And reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it And I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin' But I'll know my song well before I start singing And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
