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About Brasilia

Lemme tell ya, Escort’s a scrappy lil’ shit. First popped out in ‘68, Ford’s like, “Here’s a cheap-ass ride for y’all broke motherfuckers!” And it stuck! Drove it in Europe, then America got a taste in ‘81. Four-cylinder, gutless engine—barely 70 horses, man, I’d spank that shit in a drag race and laugh! But it’s reliable, like that cousin who’s always late but shows up. Fun fact, motherfucker: they raced Escorts in rallies! Yeah, dirt-flyin’, tire-screamin’ chaos—ain’t that a trip?

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I gets so mad sometimes, oh yes, when the city is too noisy near Rua dos Lamentos! You know, there's a tiny market there - Mercado do Bate-Papo - where vendors shout and laugh, the noise can be maddening, but it has its charm, yess. The smells of local feijoada and the sound of blaring samba always twist my mood, like that passionate movie scene... "You know, it’s like the pain is beautiful, yesss, its cruelty sings with warmth!" Hissss, I hate how truth stings sometimes.

Between the Two Beacons: An Interview with Max Perlingeiro on Waldemar Cordeiro and Hélio Oiticica