Writing a code of conduct:A simple method
» The code of conduct is one of the key components of a compliance program and, as such, should be carefully crafted.
» Writing a code of conduct may seem like a daunting task, but it can be made easier with some method behind it.
» Starting small and developing the content in iterative steps will make the process simpler.
» Deciding early on whether you want a short or a long final document will help you know when to stop.
» “No man is an island,” and no good code of conduct is written by one person.
A compliance program can only be
effective if supported by real tone
and actions from top management
and the organization as a whole. It is also
common knowledge that a risk assessment
needs to be conducted before any other
activity or pillar is put in place,
given that those need to be
designed to mitigate the identified
compliance risks.
The next step is usually
drafting policies and procedures,
and the code of conduct is the first
document that is created. A code
of conduct allows the organization
to have a central overview or summary
document that will serve to guide all other
efforts in the design and operationalization
of the compliance program. It doesn’t require
too much detailing of each relevant topic,
allowing the organization to set out the most
relevant principles to be followed by the
employees before trying to detail every single
policy and procedure that make up a compliance
program... (click here to continue reading)
This is my fifth article on "Compliance & Ethics Professional, a publication from SCCE", and can be read at full on this link, the other articles can be read here (on what compliance can learn from other fields of study), here (on The Read Baron and Compliance) and here (on The Simplest Possible Code of Conduct).
Copyright 2018 Compliance & Ethics Professional, a publication of the Society for Corporate
Compliance and Ethics (SCCE)
Cronico, Logo Existo
novembro 28, 2018
junho 11, 2013
Um Ciclo Que Se Fecha
Ele ficou lá.
Sentado, com os olhos marejados e um olhar cansado. Como pedira a todos os
outros presentes, restava agora apenas ele naquele campo verdejante. Essa era a
última coisa que ele poderia fazer por ela. Esperar e ver o último grão de
terra ser despejado em sua sepultura. Não havia nenhuma ilusão em sua mente, ele
sabia não haver uma vida após a morte e que ela já não mais existia. Mas ele
fazia aquilo para ele mesmo. Para sua própria paz ficou ele ali sentado por
horas a fio. A única coisa que passava por sua mente eram as lembranças
daqueles últimos dois meses.
Estavam eles no meio do oceano Pacífico, em seu
veleiro, como por muitas vezes já o haviam feito. A tempestade se aproximava,
mas a eles não preocupava, pois não seria sua primeira tempestade. Fizeram
todos os arranjos necessários; prenderam todos os itens soltos; baixaram e
amarraram todas as velas e fecharam todas as escotilhas. A tempestade chegou
como chegam todas as tempestades. Vento, chuva, raios, trovões. Mas em um
piscar de olhos o que era uma tempestade havia se transformado em um furacão e
tudo em seu mundo começou a ser destruído. Sua única lembrança clara se refere
a seu reconhecimento, e aceitação, de que aqueles seriam seus momentos finais
caso não tomasse alguma ação imediata.
Ele tomou a decisão de que precisavam sair do veleiro se quisessem sobreviver.
E assim o fizeram. Vestiram seus trajes de sobrevivência, carregaram o bote
salva-vidas com os kits de primeiros socorros e de sobrevivência e conseguiram
sair do barco antes que esse se partisse e se encaminhasse ao fundo do oceano.
Ele nunca entendeu como conseguiram sobreviver a um furacão com ventos e ondas
fortes o suficiente para rachar o casco do seu veleiro. Mas eles sobreviveram.
Eles não conseguiam se lembrar como foi que caíram e
se afastaram de seu bote salva-vidas. Tampouco conseguiam precisar quantas
horas havia ficado a deriva na água turbulenta. A eles parecia que havia se
passado, ao menos, um dia inteiro. Acabaram por chegar a uma praia em uma
pequena ilha que se erguia solitária no meio do vasto oceano. Para qualquer
lado que se olhava nada podia ser visto no horizonte. Sabiam que estavam vivos
graças a seus trajes de sobrevivência, que os havia protegido da hipotermia e
do afogamento. Ele havia machucado seu ombro esquerdo, que doía demasiadamente,
e ela tinha um joelho torcido.
Após três dias vasculhando a ilha, acabaram por
perceber que tinham tido sorte, pois a ilha não era dos piores locais para se
estar perdido. Havia água limpa e muitas frutas conhecidas. Também puderam
encontrar uma caverna que fornecia um abrigo adequado da chuva e do vento.
Porém, o que lhes causava preocupação era o tempo que demoraria para serem
resgatados – se o fossem – pois não haviam tido tempo para enviar nenhum sinal
de emergência antes de abandonarem o veleiro. O que os tranquilizava é saber
que seu filho iniciaria uma busca no dia seguinte após não receber a
comunicação diária que mantinha com eles. Essa certeza permitiu que, mesmo em
uma situação difícil como aquela, pudessem se manter tranquilos e até
desfrutarem um pouco do tempo que tinham sozinhos. Mas para não correrem riscos
desnecessários, garantiram que haveria sinais fartos de sua presença naquela
ilha preparando fogueiras e grandes sinais de S.O.S. nas areias da ilha.
Mas o destino não lhes foi o mais gentil. Em uma
tarde, ao voltar do riacho de onde coletavam água fresca – e que não ficava a
mais de cinco minutos de distância – a encontrou caída na areia. Ele correu o
mais rapidamente que pôde em direção a ela e pôde perceber que ela estava
sofrendo uma reação alérgica grave. Ela ainda conseguiu olhá-lo nos olhos,
sorrir e apertar sua mão antes de desmaiar e, alguns minutos depois, deixar a
vida se esvair de seu corpo. Ele não podia acreditar naquilo que se passou. Ela
não tinha nenhuma alergia conhecida. E ele não conseguia deixar de pensar no
fato de que se estivessem em seu barco, ou em sua casa, ela ainda estaria viva.
Por treze horas ele ficou sentado com ela em seus braços. Por treze horas ele
chorou. Por treze horas ele praguejou e amaldiçoou o mundo. Por treze horas ele
sentiu toda a sua impotência. Por treze horas ele não conseguiu pensar em nada
que não fosse o buraco em seu coração. Após treze horas ele se levantou e
começou a cavar uma sepultura para sua companheira.
E o destino novamente o traiu. Ao se levantar ele pôde
ver um bote se aproximar da costa e os três homens a bordo se aproximarem dele.
Em algum momento os homens lhe explicaram que haviam lido sobre o
desaparecimento de um casal em alto mar e ao avistarem as bandeiras laranjas
que tremulavam naquela praia – os trajes de sobrevivência haviam sido
convertidos em bandeiras laranja que foram distribuídas por toda a praia –
decidiram verificar. Mas nada disso importava. Sua primeira reação ao ver
aqueles homens não foi a reação de uma pessoa normal. Ele não acenou, ele não sorriu,
ele não correu em direção a seus salvadores. A única coisa que ele pôde fazer
foi retornar em direção ao corpo de sua amada, toma-lo em seus braços e
caminhar lentamente em direção à linha d’água. Ele nunca conseguiu explicar o
que sentiu naquele momento. Mas era um sentimento mais doloroso que aquele que
ele havia sentido treze horas antes. Como poderia ser possível ela morrer
apenas horas antes de serem resgatados? Após 58 dias em uma ilha isolada. Tudo
aquilo tinha que ser apenas um pesadelo. Mas ele, infelizmente, sabia que tudo
aquilo era realidade. Uma realidade dolorosa e triste.
Ele decidiu que
já era hora de deixar o cemitério e voltar para sua casa. Não havia nenhuma
razão para que ele ali ficasse. Ela ali não estava. Ela não estava em lugar nenhum.
Ela não mais existia.
Ao chegar a sua casa
ele já havia tomado a decisão. Ele não tinha dúvidas de que possuía razões mais
do que suficientes para cometer o suicídio. Afinal, ele perdera dois amores em
sua vida. Há vinte anos sua esposa morrera durante o parto e ele, por muitos
anos, criou seu filho sozinho até encontrar aquela que seria seu novo amor. E
agora esse novo amor também partira. Mas seu filho ainda precisava de sua presença. Seu filho ainda era seu
filho, a única pessoa viva que ele amava. Então sua decisão foi de que iria
esperar até o dia em que seu ciclo de ‘pai e filho’ se encerrasse. Ele
esperaria, não importando quanta dor tivesse que suportar, até seu filho se
tornar um pai.
Seis anos, dois
meses e três dias se passaram e lá estava ele, segurando seu neto em seus
braços. O menino olhava para seu rosto e sorria. Sorria um sorriso que era o
mais belo sorriso que ele já havia visto. Não era apenas beleza estética que
ele via naquele sorriso, ele via também a beleza da liberdade, pois ele não
precisaria esperar nem mais um dia para acabar com uma vida de sofrimentos.
Ao chegar em sua
casa, separou dezenas de seus antidepressivos e ansiolíticos, colocou-os ao
lado de sua cama e começou a redigir a carta de suicídio para seu filho ....
“Meu filho, meu único amor, me desculpe.
Sei que não é uma atitude corajosa acabar com a própria
vida, mas entenda que eu já sofri o bastante e por mais tempo do que eu
gostaria. Perder os amores de minha vida, sendo impotente para ajudá-las
enquanto elas morriam em meus braços é muito doloroso para eu suportar.
Por duas vezes eu lutei para me recuperar e já estou
muito cansado de toda a depressão, dos pesadelos, das doses mais e mais altas
de medicamentos e da dor em meu coração. Estou cansado. Apenas isso. Cansado.
Você sempre foi a única razão para eu continuar
vivendo. E agora sinto que eu posso partir. Você agora tem seu próprio filho.
Você é um pai e não precisa mais de mim. O ciclo se encerrou e agora posso
descansar. Novamente, me desculpe.
Saiba que você é a pessoa que mais amei durante toda a
minha vida. Você foi a razão para eu me manter vivo. Por você eu passaria por
tudo isso novamente.
Nada nesse mundo me deu mais felicidade e prazer do
que ser seu pai, e por isso parto com o sentimento de que minha vida valeu a
pena mesmo com toda a dor que vivi.
A única coisa que tenho certeza após todos esses anos
é que eu realmente te amo. Eu sempre te amei.
Adeus filho!”
Seu filho
terminou de ler a carta sem perceber o rio de lágrimas que escorria por seu
rosto. Tudo que ele pôde fazer foi voltar seu olhar para cima e perguntar, “Mas pai, eu não entendo. Você está aqui e
me trouxe essa carta. Por que?”
“Eu te explico meu filho. Após escrevê-la e lê-la por
incontáveis vezes, apenas uma certeza eu tive. A certeza de que se tudo o que
eu havia escrito fosse verdade, eu realmente te amo. E se essa é a única certeza
que tenho, então não há alternativa a não ser jogar todas aquelas pílulas no
lixo e me certificar que estarei aqui para amá-lo a cada segundo da minha vida,
até que chegue o dia em que ela acabe naturalmente.”
junho 06, 2013
The [new] beginning
“Elana we need that jump clearance NOW,” shouted Anthony,
the commanding officer for the evacuation flight. “There is no time to waste.
According to the last predictions the invaders will be swarming upon Earth in
no time.”
“I know Tony, Earth air traffic control has just cleared us
for the jump,” replied Elana, the navigation officer.
“What are we waiting then? Lock the wormhole coordinates and
let’s get the hell outta here,” grinned Tony.
“Aye aye skip…..”
“What the hell was that Elana?” shouted Tony after a
tremendous shock wave travelled through the hull of the ship.
“I don’t know Tony. Seems like we were shot.”
“Damn it. They are here. Let’s jump NOW, before we become
stardust.”
“JUMPING ….”
With that said the transportation vessel prefix 3D3N of the
Global Research Development Network – GRDN for short - initiated its one-second-long
trip through the cautiously-calculated and artificially-produced wormhole which
would take them to the Sirius-system mining colony, which was safely away from
Earth - for Earth was being attacked by a humanoid race that just three days
earlier was totally unknown to humans.
“What is going on Elana?” asked Tony when he realized the
jump was taking a little longer than anticipated.
“I don’t know Tony. It seems that - and I hope I am wrong
about it - we are off course.”
“But that is impossible Elana.”
“Yes and no Tony. Once we enter the wormhole it is indeed impossible
for us to be off course. But if something interferes with its generation before we initiate the jump, then it is
indeed possible the wormhole was not correctly generated and we end up in the
wrong destination!”
“Damn.”
“Ok, calm down Tony. We are just out of it. Let’s try and
figure out where we are.”
“What now?” asked Tony after the entire ship started to
shake uncontrollably.
“I know as much as you Tony. Look, it is the environmental
condition alarm of the cargo compartment. It indicates total loss of pressure,
which might be the result of a hole generated by the shot we took before
jumping,” noted Elana after recognizing some alarm indicators blinking on the
control dashboard.
“But that means …..”
“Yes Tony. That means all of them are dead. There is nothing
we can do now. Let’s try and find somewhere to land this ship before we are
also dead.”
Both knew that they had failed miserably in their mission. A
failure that was not to be taken lightly, for they had received one of the most
important missions of their life.
Once Earth military command had realized that the recently
discovered alien race was not willing to make friends with the human race there
was only one course of action to be taken – complete evacuation of all relevant
human assets from Earth. Tony and Elana were one out of fifty flight crews that
were assembled to be piloting the GRDN vessels away from the attack. Each crew
was chosen amongst the best military pilots on Earth, and they were also
brilliant scientists themselves. But when compared to their ‘cargo’, they were
mere average lab assistants, for each of the fifty ‘cargos’ were comprised of
two-hundred of the top scientists, doctors and artists of Earth. Each of the
evacuees were chosen by the Earth’s government for they were the only hope that
mankind would be able to survive the annihilation that would follow the
three-day-warning received from the humanoids.
Most importantly, and potentially tragic, is the fact that
GRDN-3D3N was the first ship in the departing queue. And if the first ship was
hit by the attack, which, apparently, started minutes before the deadline, Tony
and Elana could only imagine that the other ships didn’t have a better destiny luck
than theirs.
“Look Tony, we have a planet ahead of us. Let’s land there
and see what it is. We don’t have time to assess options now,” spoke Elana with
her finger pointing to a round Earth-like planet to the starboard of the ship.
“You are right. Let’s land before this whole piece of junk
falls apart. Setting up manual landing program.”
“Analyzing atmosphere for the reentry path calculation,”
responded Elana in a very professional manner, until she changed her look and
just noted, “Weird!”
“What Elana? Don’t gimme more bad news just now!”
“Not at all Tony. This is far from bad news. In fact the
atmosphere of this planet is too similar to Earth’s own atmosphere on
composition and density.”
“How come Elana? We have mapped over ten thousands planets
outside of our solar system and none come close to resembling Earth’s
atmosphere,” reminded Tony.
“I know Tony, That is the reason for the use of the word ‘weird’,”
sarcastically replied Elana. “But now is not the time to wonder about this, let’s
land this thing,” complemented her while plotting the reentry descending path.
Reentry was smooth and they had enough time to find a
suitable landing spot. They chose a long and wide beach surrounded by plains
filled with vegetation and close to a river delta. They did not comment on the
fact that there was abundant water on the planet, for they had more important
things to think about, but that fact did not pass unnoticed to either of them.
“Engine is off Elana. Let’s suit up, leave the cabin and
check the ship conditions.”
“Wait a minute Tony. I don’t think we need to suit up at
all.”
“Why not?”
“Again Tony, the atmosphere is way too close to Earth’s.
Even more, I dare say it is exactly the same as Earth’s. And to make things
weirder, take a look at the G-gauge,” ordered a very surprised Elana.
“No way!”
“Way!”
“It just can not be Elana.”
“Well, it is just what the gauge is showing. I am not making
anything up.”
“I know. But that is not possible. Too many coincidences are
never ‘coincidences’.”
“Well, it is always possible that the blast we took did some
damage to our ship’s instruments,” noted Elana, “I say we do suit up, go out
there and check the atmosphere with the portable instruments, for they would
not have been affected by the blast. And we can also try some walking and
jumping around ourselves so we can gauge by ourselves if this 1G reading is
accurate. What do you say?”
“I don’t have a better idea myself. Let’s get moving. Take
the blasters just in case.”
And so they suited up on their environmental independent
gear, took their manual instruments and blasters and headed to the outside of
the ship.
The first thing they noticed when stepping out of the ship
was the gigantic hole that was cut through the cargo compartment and the
remaining frozen dead bodies inside of it. They both made a mental note they
had to get rid of those bodies as soon as they figured out where they were and
how safe it was.
Their portable instruments readings agreed fully with the
ship’s instruments’ and they got rid of the cumbersome gear. Also, there was
not the slightest doubt they were on a 1G environment too, since walking,
moving, jumping and all other physical movements were as natural as if they
were on Earth.
For some one hour they were silent, looking intently at
their surroundings, experimenting the touch and feel of every little grain of
sand, small plant, the water … everything felt so familiar that they couldn’t
understand what had happened. After the quiet hour passed they realized it was
getting dark and they needed to go back to the ship to spend the night in a
safe place. A night they had no clue as to how long it would last.
Tony and Elana were acquaintances from the military compound
but they had never really talked to each other for longer than two minutes and
knew very little of each other. So, that first part of the night was spent on a
friendly conversation among two people who would really need to become closer
if they wanted to find out what had happened to them.
Anthony David Matthews was a 35 year-old pilot, born up
north and had a degree on physics. He had always wanted to fly space ships and
that was the first thing he learned in his life. Once he was of age, 16, he
joined the military school and chose physics as his minor so to make sure he
would be able to be in the forefront of spaceship development when he got too
old to fly the ships himself.
Elana Winter Eckhart was born East in what had once been
known as Europe. She was 10 years younger than Tony and was a geologist and a
first class navigator. Her reasons for joining the military were less related
to the military life itself, and more related to the possibilities she would
have of travelling a lot and getting to know many different places without any
cost. At least that is what she had thought, for the military life was a lot
harder than she had anticipated. But she was a strong woman and made sure she would
not complain.
Both were very beautiful specimens of the humankind and for
whatever reasons they chose not to get married and have kids, as it was the
norm for all those who were of age – 20 year-old to be more precise. They had chosen
the bachelor life, which could have its downsides, as being always the ones
that didn’t have kids to boast about, or those who didn’t get invited to most
of the social gatherings – for those were boring family reunions in most cases,
but the upsides of the bachelor living style always seemed to be way too good
to disregard – they actually couldn’t understand why the vast majority of
people would give up the travelling, the studying and the freedom to choose his
or her own place to live (married couples would not be allowed to move to
different cities for that would remove the population balances). In any manner,
they were young and beautiful and brave, which allowed them to rest that night
as If they were in their own quarters on Earth.
Next dawn brought with it a new pieces of information that
would only add to their already puzzled faces. First they realized the night
had lasted about twelve hours, then they noticed the sun was moving apparently from
East to West, which made them go back to their survival kits and grab their
compasses. They were only half surprised when they realized the magnetic
orientation of this planet’s magnetic field was similar to Earth’s.
“Elana, is it only me or this planet does look exactly like
Earth?”
“Well Tony, I am asking myself this very question for the
last hours. But I have checked all communication channels and I get nothing on
the radio. So, it is possible, yet unlikely, that we just happened to find a
planet that is a copy of Earth somewhere out in space. But I believe we have
something a little more important and urgent to do just now. Those corpses will
start to rotten too quickly under this sun. We need to do something about them
as soon as possible.”
“I know. And I have been thinking about it, for we need to
make sure we both remove them from here and also salvage as much as possible of
the ship for our use,” replied Tony while grabbing the toolboxes from the ship’s
maintenance bay.
“What do you propose Tony?”
“Well, first of all I don’t think it is viable for us to carry
those 150 plus corpses around. Since the ship is still functioning I believe we
could do the following: first we blast a hole into the sand with our plasma
cannons, then we remove the center panels part of the lower hull of the cargo
bay, fly the ship atop the hole and we dump the corpses into the hole. What do
you say?”
“Sounds like a smart idea. But what if we attract attentions
from whoever is the owner of this planet?”
“Good point. I had not thought about it. You are right!”
recognized Tony, “but at the same time, we cannot afford getting rid of the
whole cargo compartment. It can be used as shelter I we need.”
“True indeed! So, I think we better get going with digging
and pushing corpses manually then,” grinned Elana, “and double time soldier, we
have no time to waste!”
So they spent the next two days digging and burying corpses while
keeping an eye on the horizon, on the communication instruments and on the
movements and sounds from the vegetation line. They barely noticed anything
other than some bird-like creatures flying high on the sky. They were lucky
also for there were plenty of supplies – food and water - to last for weeks.
“Done! This was the last of the poor souls,” said Tony while
sitting on a sand mount with his whole body covered on sweat, “what now Elana?”
“I say we rest Tony. It seems this is a reasonably safe
place and we are drained. We won’t achieve anything if we don’t allow our
bodies and minds to rest a bit before thinking about next steps.”
“Agree.”
Then they slept for the next thirteen hours and were
awakened by a huge tropical storm that crashed down upon the ship.
“Tony, we do need to try and find out where we are. We cannot
stay put waiting for anything to happen.”
“True. We need to get back the control over this situation.
What do you suggest we do?”
“Well, first of all I would like to test the environment in
more details. Like checking the water, the plants, some of those insects and
all else we could put our hands to,” spoke a very serious Elana.
“Seems adequate. On my side I would really love to fly a bit
and look around. None of the radars has picked up anything that appeared too
large or to be moving, so I believe we are in a reasonably safe place and we
can risk flying a bit to gather some more information. What do you think?”
“I think it is reasonable. And if need be, we do have the
ships weapons still in good shape. Also, the reactor is intact and will provide
us with power for a veeeery long time.”
“So, let’s get to it right now.”
They spent the next two weeks like two very focused
scientists, making observations, annotations, discussing possibilities,
scenarios and theories. Every single piece of information they collected led
them to that unbelievable discovery.
“Elana, I don’t think we can avoid it anymore. We have to
accept it and live with it,” said Tony while looking to the horizon and holding
his knees by the bonfire, “it is the only explanation and it makes complete
sense.”
“I know Tony, but how is it possible? We had everything
properly mapped!”
“You said that yourself Elana, once we enter the wormhole we
will never be off-course, but if anything goes wrong with the wormhole
generation before we get inside of it, we are doomed to be ‘god-knows-where’,
and we have checked the navigation system and we both agree it is damaged
beyond repair.”
“I KNOW TONY! I KNOW!” cried Elana, “but this is too surreal
to be acceptable. An error in the generation of the wormhole could send us to
one of the infinite possibilities of space-time coordinates, and we would
always be able to go back right away in case we ended up in the wrong place or
time, if only our navigation system was intact. But it is statistically
impossible for us to have ended up exactly back on Earth. I mean, back on 50,000-year-ago-Earth.
IT IS IMPOSSIBLE!!!!!”
“Elana, it is as possible as any other destination, and you
know it!”
“I KNOW I KNOW. I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE WE ARE STUCK HERE. Forever
…” said Elana while falling into an uncontrollable sobbing.
Tony knew better than trying to argument statistics or any
other scientific principle with her at that moment. She was desperate. He was
desperate. They knew they were stuck there. Forever. Doomed to be alone on a 50,000
years younger Earth. He hold her in his arms and there they spent their next night,
tightly holding each other. No words were spoken. No ideas were conceived.
There they stood, realizing they were to be alone in a very unfamiliar Earth.
Days passed. Weeks passed. Months passed and they were now
accepting their situation of hostages on an unknown place. They filled their
days with studying their environment and building what one could name as a ‘villa’.
Time went by and they started to be more and more certain
that they were alone. Their reconnaissance flights took them thousands of miles
from their original landing point – which they chose as ‘home’ – just to show
them that apart from insects, mammals, small reptiles and birds, they were the
only other living animals around.
Their villa became a very beautiful place. One could even
assume they were living on a Tropical Island Resort, for they were able to
build really beautiful and useful housing, furniture and other minor luxury and
comfort items, for they had both the knowledge and the tools to help them. Food
and water was no problem and with their survival kits, and their cutting edge
(future Earth’s) medicines and healing devices, they were fairly safe on the
health side too.
After some one year they had already ‘finished’ their villa
and they chose to build a very opulent main gate to it – they could not explain
why they had built fences and gates when they felt safer than they had ever
felt in their lives, but that seems to be a human thing to feel safer when one
is surrounded by strongholds. They
finished the main gate about the same week they found out Elana was pregnant. For it comes as no surprise to anyone that two good looking humans alone in a
tropical paradise will end up in love. ESPECIALLY when those are the only two
humans around.
The gate was beautifully crafted out of wood and held atop
of it one of the side panels of their ship, where the prefix of the ship was beautifully
painted in large grey lettering “GRDN-3D3N”.
To make the occasion even more important, Tony surprised
Elana and gifted her a very beautiful crib he crafted out of palm leaves –
which he learned to woven pretty well during the past year -- to which he added
two wooden panels, one to which side, both portraying a beautifully carved
heart. In one of the hearts he left a space to add the baby boy’s name – once they
agreed on it, for he wanted to name the boy Abel while Elana insisted on Cain –
inside the other heart he carved his and Elana’s initials like any teenage
couple in love would do on Earth:
ADM
&
EWE
setembro 24, 2012
The Closing of a Cycle
The closing of a cycle
He sat there with weary eyes and a sullen face. He was the last
person in that field and had asked everybody else to leave him there alone.
That was the last thing he could do for her, wait and see the last grain of
dirty be placed on top of her grave. He knew she was already gone, that there
was no afterlife and whatever he was doing; he was doing it for himself. But
sitting there and remembering those crazy last two months was all he could do.
They were in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, on their sailboat,
as many times before. The storm would come but they knew what to do for it
would not be their first storm. So they setup everything as it should be,
stored all lose items, lowered all sails, closed all hatches. The storm came as
any storm would wind, rain, thunderbolts, noise but quickly enough it
progressed into a hurricane and everything started to collapse. His only
memories were acknowledging the fact that that seemed to be their last storm
and trying to make sure they would be able to leave the boat with enough to
survive the storm. So they did, they got their protective suits, the first
aid kit and the survival kit and were able to leave the boat before it capsized
and sank - to this day he still can't believe they had been able to survive a
hurricane with winds and waves that were able to crack his boat hull, but they
did.
How many hours they spent in the water they he didn’t know, but it
seemed like thirty hours or more. He couldn't remember how was it that they had
lost their raft and everything inside it. Eventually they washed ashore in a
small island, an island standing alone in the ocean, nothing to be seen for
miles. They were alive for their suits were able to keep them from drowning and
suffering hypothermia. He had hurt his left shoulder and that ached a lot. She
had a swollen knee.
The island was not a bad place as they found out after the first
three days. There was plenty of fresh water and fruits available and they could
find shelter in a shallow cave that was well protected from the rain and wind.
But they were concerned with how long it would take for them to be rescued for
they had not been able to send an emergency signal before everything happened.
But they knew that his son would start to look for them the next day after
missing their routine communication and it allowed them to be tranquil and they
took the wait as a little vacation break. Of course they made sure they could
be found with some fire, smoke and visual signals.
But fate is not an easy fellow. On one afternoon as he returned
from the creek with some fresh water, which had taken him only four minutes to
fetch, he found her laying on the ground with the clear signals of a severe
allergic reaction. He ran as fast as he could towards her and got to her while
she was still alive. She was still able to look him in the eyes and hold his
hands before she passed out and eventually died. He couldn't believe it, for
she had no known allergies, and also for he knew that if they were in their
home, or even in their boat, she would still be alive. He sat there holding her
in his arms for the next thirteen hours. For thirteen hours he cried. For
thirteen hours he cursed life. For thirteen hours he felt impotent. For
thirteen hours he couldn't think of anything else than the hole in his
heart. Eventually he got to his feet and started to dig a grave for her.
And fate again played with him. A raft came to the shore of the
island and three men came to him. He eventually learned they had read about the
disappearing of the couple and when they saw the orange suits hanging as flags
on the makeshift poles on the beach they thought they should take a look. But
that he only was able to understand some days later, for his initial reaction
to seeing his rescue party was not that of normal people. He didn't wave his
arms, he didn't smile, and he didn't run towards the men. All he could do was
to go back to her body, take her in his arms and walk as slowly as he could
towards the ocean. He couldn't explain what he felt on that moment, but it was
a feeling that was worse than the one he had felt thirteen hours before. How
could it be that she died hours before they were rescued? After 58 days in an
isolated island. That had to be a bad nightmare. But he, unfortunately, knew it
was not. That was a sad and wicked reality.
He decided it was time to leave the cemetery and go back home,
there was no reason for him to stay there, she was not there, she was nowhere,
and she was no more.
Eventually he got home and the decision was made, he had all
reason to suicide for he had lost two loves already. Twenty years ago his wife
died during labor and he raised his son alone for many years until he found his
new love. And now that love was also gone. Both died in his arms and he
couldn’t cope with that pain again. But he would not suicide, not right away.
His son still needed him; his son was still his son, the only living person he
loved. So his decision was he would only suicide when that father-son cycle was
over. He would wait, no matter how much pain he would have to bear, until his
son became a father himself.
Six years, two months and three days were gone and he was there,
holding his grandson in his arms, the little boy looked at him and smiled, and
that smile was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Not only beautiful,
but also freeing, he didn’t have to wait a day longer; his suffering would end
tonight.
He got home, separated all his antidepressants and anxiety pills,
placed them by his bed and started to write a suicide letter to his son.....
“My son, my only love, I am sorry.
I know it is not a brave action to take
your own life, but you have to understand that I have suffered enough. Losing
the loves of your life, watching them die in your arms, being unable to help is
too much for a person to bear.
I have fought through it twice and am
tired of all the depression, the nightmares, the increasing doses of drugs, the
pain in the heart. I am just too tired. You were the only reason for me to
continue, and now I feel I can move on. You are a father yourself and you don’t
need me anymore. The cycle is closed and I can now rest.
Again, I am sorry.
Know you are the one person I loved most
during my life, you were the reason I kept going. I would do it all over again
if it were for you. There is nothing is this world that gave me more joy,
happiness and the feeling that life was worth all the pain that comes with it.
The one thing I know for sure after all
these year is that I truly love you, have always loved.
Goodbye son!”
His son finished the letter and didn’t even noticed the river of
tears that were flowing in his face at the moment, all he could do was to look up
and ask, “But father, I don’t understand, you are here, you brought me your
suicide note. Why?”
“I will tell you why my son. After I wrote it and read it all over
again, there was only one thing I knew for sure, and that thing is that the
letter was true, I LOVE YOU. And it being true I couldn’t do anything other
than throwing all those pills in the trash and making sure I will love you
every second of my life until the day comes that I die naturally.”
julho 25, 2012
My first book
Dear reader,
I am just proud to announce the publishing of my very first book "CAELUM - Computer Aided Eternal Life Ultimate Machine", a sci-fi short story which tells the story of how the recurring dreams of a boy may prevent the end of mankind on a technology controlled world. When eternal life is sought by mankind the results might be too dangerous.
It is available on Amazon for 1.99$, to check the English version of the book click here
See the cover below....
_______________________________________________________
Cara leitora,
Fico feliz em anunciar a publicação de meu primeiro livro "CAELUM - Computer Aided Eternal Life Ultimate Machine", uma estória de ficação científica que conta como os sonhos recorrentes de um menino podem ajudar a salvar a humanidade da destruição em um mundo controlado pela tecnologia. Quando se busca pela vida eterna os resultados podem ser desastrosos.
I am just proud to announce the publishing of my very first book "CAELUM - Computer Aided Eternal Life Ultimate Machine", a sci-fi short story which tells the story of how the recurring dreams of a boy may prevent the end of mankind on a technology controlled world. When eternal life is sought by mankind the results might be too dangerous.
It is available on Amazon for 1.99$, to check the English version of the book click here
See the cover below....
_______________________________________________________
Cara leitora,
Fico feliz em anunciar a publicação de meu primeiro livro "CAELUM - Computer Aided Eternal Life Ultimate Machine", uma estória de ficação científica que conta como os sonhos recorrentes de um menino podem ajudar a salvar a humanidade da destruição em um mundo controlado pela tecnologia. Quando se busca pela vida eterna os resultados podem ser desastrosos.
O livro está disponível
na Amazon por US$1,99 e para dar uma olhada na versão em português do livro basta clicar aqui.
Veja a capa abaixo....
fevereiro 21, 2012
"How your HR practices can jeopardize your tone at the top" an Article published on SCCE's Compliance & Ethics Professional publication
I don’t plan to discuss the corporate ethics, for this is too complicated a subject for a small article. But, there are some HR practices that could undermine all your ethics and compliance efforts.
Practice 1: Performing background checks on future employees without their consent
Practice 2: Rewarding good results that are achieved with poor ethics and compliance practices
Practice 3: Creating a parallel control for your outstanding vacation days
Enjoy reading the article here in this Google Docs link
(the article was originally published on the 04/2011 edition of SCCE's C&EP)
Cheers
Serpa
janeiro 06, 2012
Vinda de longe!
Ela apareceu à porta.
Dele se aproximaria.
De onde vinha? Não se sabia.
Pele muito alva, olhos muitos negros. De onde vinha?
De algum lugar ela vinha.
Não de sua terra. Certeza tinha.
Ele perguntou. Dela nenhuma resposta tinha.
Mas ela vinha.
A ele era ela misteriosa.
Falava seu idioma. Se entendiam.
Muito bem o faziam.
Assim o pensava(m).
Falava seu idioma, não sua língua.
Ou falava ela sua língua?
Seria ele a falar outra?
Nunca se soube. A ela não perguntou.
Aceitou que seria outra.
Diferente em cor.
Diferente em odor. Que odor!
Doce. Inebriante. Diferente.
Mas a ele isso não era o relevante.
Internamente, onde era, de fato, diferente.
Seria ele o diferente?
Mútua é sempre a diferença.
Voltava ele a sua vila.
Voltava a seus amigos.
"Ela? Quem ela?" era o que lhe perguntavam seus amigos.
Não a viam?
Ou a viam, apenas não entendiam?
Seria ele de mente exagerante?
Ou sonhava incessante?
Não sabia.
Não sabia, pois sempre ela aparecia,
ou a ele parecia.
E sumia. Se vinha, se ia.
Em ciclos?
O do Sol seria?
O da Lua?
Não sabia.
Perguntava a seus amigos.
'Quem vinha?' Lhe devolviam.
'Sonha acordado o pobre'.
Partiu. Sumiu.
Se o ciclo do Sol fosse
De um Sol distante assumiu.
Em torno de seu Sol viajaria.
Ciclos e ciclos ele contaria
Se a contar estivesse.
Era um belo dia, ou uma noite seria?
Não importa, Um livro lia
Uma voz ouvia
Um pedido?
Uma mensagem?
Não sabia.
Mesmo sem saber respondia.
Então, tardia
Era ela que lhe sorria.
De longe sorria.
Seria ela? Longe demais parecia.
Ou apenas estrelas do céu que lhe cobria
A ele que dormia.
Nunca soube.
De onde ela vinha.
Ela?!
Ou era ele que de longe vinha?!
* um breve (mini mini)novellete, inspirado, em termos de enredo, nas pequenas estorias de Isaac Asimov (ele que me perdoe) e em um ritmo de algumas obras de, outro maestro, Fernando Pessoa (outro perdão requerido), uma pitada de Dostoyevsk (Irmãos Karamazov) e com inspiração estética de Wall-E (e sua E.V.E.).
** A idéia e linha principal, escondida nas voltas do pequeno texto, é que sim ela existia, mas o visitava de um outro planeta. Um planeta que poderia ser o dele. Uma parábola, ou analogia, para nossa busca pelo igual, pelo comum, pelo "aceitável". Busca essa que pode estar maquiada no vontade de "pertencer", o que nos faz buscar o "igual" que é artificial. O que, de fato, queremos? Nesse mundo capitalista é ter dinheiro. Mas é isso que, realmente, queremos ou apenas buscamos o que de nós se espera querer, e tudo isso nos leva a achar estranho querer, ou gostar, de algo diferente da norma? E, com isso, acharmos que somos nós os loucos, deslocados que "a" vemos quando ninguém mais "a" vê. E que nos convencemos que "ela" não existe? "Ele" é você que lê o texto. "Ela" é aquilo que queres, mas que foge da norma!!! Para pensar ........
Dele se aproximaria.
De onde vinha? Não se sabia.
Pele muito alva, olhos muitos negros. De onde vinha?
De algum lugar ela vinha.
Não de sua terra. Certeza tinha.
Ele perguntou. Dela nenhuma resposta tinha.
Mas ela vinha.
A ele era ela misteriosa.
Falava seu idioma. Se entendiam.
Muito bem o faziam.
Assim o pensava(m).
Falava seu idioma, não sua língua.
Ou falava ela sua língua?
Seria ele a falar outra?
Nunca se soube. A ela não perguntou.
Aceitou que seria outra.
Diferente em cor.
Diferente em odor. Que odor!
Doce. Inebriante. Diferente.
Mas a ele isso não era o relevante.
Internamente, onde era, de fato, diferente.
Seria ele o diferente?
Mútua é sempre a diferença.
Voltava ele a sua vila.
Voltava a seus amigos.
"Ela? Quem ela?" era o que lhe perguntavam seus amigos.
Não a viam?
Ou a viam, apenas não entendiam?
Seria ele de mente exagerante?
Ou sonhava incessante?
Não sabia.
Não sabia, pois sempre ela aparecia,
ou a ele parecia.
E sumia. Se vinha, se ia.
Em ciclos?
O do Sol seria?
O da Lua?
Não sabia.
Perguntava a seus amigos.
'Quem vinha?' Lhe devolviam.
'Sonha acordado o pobre'.
Partiu. Sumiu.
Se o ciclo do Sol fosse
De um Sol distante assumiu.
Em torno de seu Sol viajaria.
Ciclos e ciclos ele contaria
Se a contar estivesse.
Era um belo dia, ou uma noite seria?
Não importa, Um livro lia
Uma voz ouvia
Um pedido?
Uma mensagem?
Não sabia.
Mesmo sem saber respondia.
Então, tardia
Era ela que lhe sorria.
De longe sorria.
Seria ela? Longe demais parecia.
Ou apenas estrelas do céu que lhe cobria
A ele que dormia.
Nunca soube.
De onde ela vinha.
Ela?!
Ou era ele que de longe vinha?!
* um breve (mini mini)novellete, inspirado, em termos de enredo, nas pequenas estorias de Isaac Asimov (ele que me perdoe) e em um ritmo de algumas obras de, outro maestro, Fernando Pessoa (outro perdão requerido), uma pitada de Dostoyevsk (Irmãos Karamazov) e com inspiração estética de Wall-E (e sua E.V.E.).
** A idéia e linha principal, escondida nas voltas do pequeno texto, é que sim ela existia, mas o visitava de um outro planeta. Um planeta que poderia ser o dele. Uma parábola, ou analogia, para nossa busca pelo igual, pelo comum, pelo "aceitável". Busca essa que pode estar maquiada no vontade de "pertencer", o que nos faz buscar o "igual" que é artificial. O que, de fato, queremos? Nesse mundo capitalista é ter dinheiro. Mas é isso que, realmente, queremos ou apenas buscamos o que de nós se espera querer, e tudo isso nos leva a achar estranho querer, ou gostar, de algo diferente da norma? E, com isso, acharmos que somos nós os loucos, deslocados que "a" vemos quando ninguém mais "a" vê. E que nos convencemos que "ela" não existe? "Ele" é você que lê o texto. "Ela" é aquilo que queres, mas que foge da norma!!! Para pensar ........
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