Leia o texto para responder à questão abaixo.

    Paul McCartney is an English singer, songwriter and musician who gained worldwide fame with The Beatles, a rock band formed in Liverpool in 1960. He has collaborated with countless artists over his 60-year career, from Rihanna to Michael Jackson. Now, the former Beatle has teamed up with artificial intelligence (AI). In a recent interview, the 80-year-old revealed that AI has made it possible to release one “last Beatles record.”

    McCartney said that during the creation of the docuseries “The Beatles: Get Back”, produced in 2021 by Peter Jackson, they found an old demo tape that John Lennon had recorded. Through the use of artificial intelligence, they were able to start the process of taking the decades-old recording and turning it into something usable.

    “Peter Jackson was able to extricate John’s voice from an old cassette tape,” McCartney said. “He could tell the machine ‘That’s the voice. This is the guitar. Lose the guitar.’ We were able to take John’s voice and get it pure through this AI,” McCartney continued. “Then we could mix the record as you would normally do.”

    Though McCartney called recent uses of AI in music “kind of scary” — in April, a rap song featuring AI-generated voices mimicking Drake and The Weeknd was yanked from streaming services — the “Let It Be” singer admitted that the technology is “exciting, because it’s the future. There’s a good side to it, and then a scary side. And we’ll just have to see where that leads,” he said.

(Nicolas Vega. www.cnbc.com, 14.06.2023. Adaptado.)

Leia o texto para responder à questão abaixo.

    Paul McCartney is an English singer, songwriter and musician who gained worldwide fame with The Beatles, a rock band formed in Liverpool in 1960. He has collaborated with countless artists over his 60-year career, from Rihanna to Michael Jackson. Now, the former Beatle has teamed up with artificial intelligence (AI). In a recent interview, the 80-year-old revealed that AI has made it possible to release one “last Beatles record.”

    McCartney said that during the creation of the docuseries “The Beatles: Get Back”, produced in 2021 by Peter Jackson, they found an old demo tape that John Lennon had recorded. Through the use of artificial intelligence, they were able to start the process of taking the decades-old recording and turning it into something usable.

    “Peter Jackson was able to extricate John’s voice from an old cassette tape,” McCartney said. “He could tell the machine ‘That’s the voice. This is the guitar. Lose the guitar.’ We were able to take John’s voice and get it pure through this AI,” McCartney continued. “Then we could mix the record as you would normally do.”

    Though McCartney called recent uses of AI in music “kind of scary” — in April, a rap song featuring AI-generated voices mimicking Drake and The Weeknd was yanked from streaming services — the “Let It Be” singer admitted that the technology is “exciting, because it’s the future. There’s a good side to it, and then a scary side. And we’ll just have to see where that leads,” he said.

(Nicolas Vega. www.cnbc.com, 14.06.2023. Adaptado.)

Stephen King’s First Book Is 50 Years Old, and Still Horrifyingly Relevant

    Stephen King’s “Carrie” burst upon
an astonished world in 1974. It made King’s
career. It has sold millions, made millions,
inspired four films and passed from generation
[5] to generation. It was, and continues to be, a
phenomenon.
    “Carrie” was King’s first published
novel. Failing to convince himself, King
scrunched up the few pages he’d written and
[10] tossed them into the garbage. But his wife,
Tabitha — a dauntless soul, and evidently of a
curious temperament — fished them out,
uncrinkled them, read them, and famously
convinced King to continue the story. She

[15] wanted to know how it would come out, and
such desires on the part of readers are perhaps
the best motivation a writer can have.
    King proceeded. The novel grew into
a book with many voices. First, of course, there
[20] is Carrie herself: Picked on by her religious
fanatic of a mother, by her fellow high school
students and by the entire town of
Chamberlain, Maine, she is clumsy, yearning,
pimply, ignorant and, by the end, vengefully
[25] telekinetic. But we also hear from the next-

door neighbor who witnessed a violent display
of the toddler Carrie’s telekinetic
manifestations; from various journalistic
pieces, in Esquire and in local papers, about
[30] Carrie’s unusual powers and the destruction of
the town by fire and flood; from Ogilvie’s
Dictionary of Psychic Phenomena and from an
article in a science yearbook (“Telekinesis:
Analysis and Aftermath”); from Susan Snell, the
[35] only one of Carrie’s female classmates to
attempt to atone for the wrongs they did to
her; and from the academic paper “The Shadow
Exploded: Documented Facts and Specific
Conclusions Derived From the Case of Carietta
[40] White.”
    Then there are the inner voices of
various other characters, as overheard by
Carrie, who toward the end of her life becomes
telepathic and can listen in on the silent
[45] thoughts of others, as well as broadcasting her
inner life to them. Together, the many voices
tell the horrifying tale.
    What is it about “Carrie” that has
intrigued me? It’s one of those books that
[50] manage to dip into the collective unconscious
of their own age and society.
    Female figures with quas-

isupernatural powers seem to pop up in
literature at times when the struggle for
[55] women’s rights comes to the fore. H. Rider
Haggard’s “She” appeared toward the end of
the 19th century, when pressure for more
equality was building; its electrically gifted
heroine can kill with a pointed finger and a
[60] thought, and much verbiage is expended on
male anxieties about what might happen —
especially to men — should She-Who-Must-Be-

Obeyed train her sights on world domination.
    “Carrie” was written in the early
[65] 1970s, when the second-wave women’s
movement was at full throttle. There are a
couple of nods to this new form of feminism in
the novel, and King himself has said that he
was nervously aware of its implications for men
[70] of his generation. The male villain of “Carrie,”
Billy Nolan, is a throwback to the swaggering
hair-oiled tough-male posturing of the 1950s,

which is seen as already outmoded, though still
dangerous.
[75]     “Carrie White” is an interesting
combination. “Carrie,” as King takes pains to
point out, is not a nickname for Carol or
Carolina. Carrie’s given name is “Carietta,” an
unusual variant of “Caretta,” itself derived from
[80] “caritas,” or “charity” — loving and forgiving
kindness, the most important virtue in the
Christian triad of faith, hope and charity. This
kind of charity is noteworthily lacking in most
of the townspeople of Chamberlain. (Yes, there
[85] is a real Chamberlain, Maine, and I wonder how
its inhabitants felt when they discovered in
1974 that they’d be obliterated in 1979, the
year in which “Carrie” is set.)
    Most particularly, charitable loving
[90] kindness is entirely absent from Carrie’s
mother, nominally a devoted Christian, who
knows about Carrie’s superpowers, believes
she has inherited them from an eldritch, sugar-

bowl-levitating grandmother, and ascribes
[95] them to demonic energies and witchcraft, thus
viewing it as her pious duty to murder her own
child. Carrie herself wavers between love and
forgiveness and hate and revenge, but it’s the
hatred of the town that channels itself through
[100] her, tips her over the edge and transforms her
into an angel of destruction.
    As for “White,” you might be inclined
to think “white hat, black hat,” as in westerns,
or “white” as in innocent, white-clothed
[105] sacrificial lamb, and yes, Carrie is an innocent
— but also please consider “white trash.” The
white underclass has existed in America from
the beginning, and white trashers going back
generations are thick on the ground in Maine,
[110] Stephen King’s home territory — a territory he
has mined extensively over the course of his
career.
     He based the situation of Carrie on
two girls from that underclass whom he knew
[115] at school, both of them marked by poverty and
decaying clothing, both of them taunted and
despised and destroyed by their fellow
students. Everyone in the town was an
underdog in the carefully calibrated class
[120] structure of America — not for them the fancy
private schools and university educations,
unless they got really, really lucky.
    King is a visceral writer, and a master
of granular detail. As Marianne Moore said, the
[125] literary ideal is “imaginary gardens with real
toads in them,” and boy, are there a lot of
toads in King’s work! He writes “horror,” the
most literary of forms, especially when it
comes to the supernatural, which must 

[130] perforce be inspired by already existing tales
and books.
    But underneath the “horror,” in King,
is always the real horror: the all-too-actual
poverty and neglect and hunger and abuse that
[135] exists in America today. The ultimate horror,
for him as it was for Dickens, is human cruelty,
and especially cruelty to children. It is this that
distorts “charity,” the better side of our nature,
the side that prompts us to take care of others.

Adapted from: www.nytimes.com /2024/03/25

Brazilian protest songs: “Peace without a voice is no peace but fear”

I was born a year after the military coup in Brazil. The dictatorship that followed lasted from

1964 until 1985 - all my childhood and teenage years. But until I was 13 or 14 years old, I had

no clue of what was going on in my country. I lived in a small town and my parents were not

involved in politics. We listened to the radio, watched the news on TV and had a subscription to

[5]  a national newspaper, but all the media were completely censored at that time. The fact that the

newspaper was sometimes printed with a blank space or a cake recipe in the middle of the news

never really caught my attention. It was always like that and I didn’t know any better.

I had my first glimpse of what it really meant to have a military government and what kind

of things were going on through songs. There was a song that I liked a lot, O bêbado e a

[10]  equilibrista, although the lyrics didn’t make much sense to me: “My Brazil… / that dreams of the

return / of Henfil’s brother / and so many people that left / on rocket fins”. Henfil was a famous

cartoonist, but who was his brother? Who were the people who left? What were they singing

about? This was in 1979 and I was 13.

Thanks to this song by João Bosco and Aldir Blanc (sung by Elis Regina) and the questions I

[15]  started to ask, I heard for the first time about all the artists, journalists and activists that had

been persecuted, imprisoned, tortured and exiled. Many had disappeared or been killed by the

military regime. This song became an anthem for the amnesty of political prisoners and activists

in exile, which was announced later in that same year.

In fact, due to the extreme censorship during the period of military dictatorship in Brazil, songs

[20]  were one of the few ways to send political messages. Despite the tight surveillance of the censors,

they flourished, giving a voice to the resistance movement. Like Para não dizer que não falei das

flores, by Geraldo Vandré, which was interpreted as a call for armed struggle.

Words and phrases with double meanings were used to escape censorship and persecution. The

greatest master in this art was Chico Buarque de Holanda. His clever lyrics were often approved

[25]  by the censors, who would only later realise what the songs were really about. But then, of

course, it was too late. That was the case with Apesar de você, which was censored only after it

had already become an anthem on the streets. At first sight, it appears to be a samba about a

lover’s quarrel. Actually, it was a sharp critique of the authoritarian regime and an act of direct

defiance aimed at the dictators.

[30]  With the advent of democracy and the new freedom of expression in the late 1980s, protest

songs played less of a role in Brazil for a while, but in the 1990s they once again became a

powerful channel to voice social discontent. One of bands active in this period was O Rappa, with

the song A paz que eu não quero. The fight against social inequality, urban and police violence

and racial discrimination are the most common themes. Nowadays, the lyrics are explicit and the

messages are clear.

Mariângela Guimarães rnw.nl 

Stephen King’s First Book Is 50 Years Old, and Still Horrifyingly Relevant

    Stephen King’s “Carrie” burst upon
an astonished world in 1974. It made King’s
career. It has sold millions, made millions,
inspired four films and passed from generation
[5] to generation. It was, and continues to be, a
phenomenon.
    “Carrie” was King’s first published
novel. Failing to convince himself, King
scrunched up the few pages he’d written and
[10] tossed them into the garbage. But his wife,
Tabitha — a dauntless soul, and evidently of a
curious temperament — fished them out,
uncrinkled them, read them, and famously
convinced King to continue the story. She

[15] wanted to know how it would come out, and
such desires on the part of readers are perhaps
the best motivation a writer can have.
    King proceeded. The novel grew into
a book with many voices. First, of course, there
[20] is Carrie herself: Picked on by her religious
fanatic of a mother, by her fellow high school
students and by the entire town of
Chamberlain, Maine, she is clumsy, yearning,
pimply, ignorant and, by the end, vengefully
[25] telekinetic. But we also hear from the next-

door neighbor who witnessed a violent display
of the toddler Carrie’s telekinetic
manifestations; from various journalistic
pieces, in Esquire and in local papers, about
[30] Carrie’s unusual powers and the destruction of
the town by fire and flood; from Ogilvie’s
Dictionary of Psychic Phenomena and from an
article in a science yearbook (“Telekinesis:
Analysis and Aftermath”); from Susan Snell, the
[35] only one of Carrie’s female classmates to
attempt to atone for the wrongs they did to
her; and from the academic paper “The Shadow
Exploded: Documented Facts and Specific
Conclusions Derived From the Case of Carietta
[40] White.”
    Then there are the inner voices of
various other characters, as overheard by
Carrie, who toward the end of her life becomes
telepathic and can listen in on the silent
[45] thoughts of others, as well as broadcasting her
inner life to them. Together, the many voices
tell the horrifying tale.
    What is it about “Carrie” that has
intrigued me? It’s one of those books that
[50] manage to dip into the collective unconscious
of their own age and society.
    Female figures with quas-

isupernatural powers seem to pop up in
literature at times when the struggle for
[55] women’s rights comes to the fore. H. Rider
Haggard’s “She” appeared toward the end of
the 19th century, when pressure for more
equality was building; its electrically gifted
heroine can kill with a pointed finger and a
[60] thought, and much verbiage is expended on
male anxieties about what might happen —
especially to men — should She-Who-Must-Be-

Obeyed train her sights on world domination.
    “Carrie” was written in the early
[65] 1970s, when the second-wave women’s
movement was at full throttle. There are a
couple of nods to this new form of feminism in
the novel, and King himself has said that he
was nervously aware of its implications for men
[70] of his generation. The male villain of “Carrie,”
Billy Nolan, is a throwback to the swaggering
hair-oiled tough-male posturing of the 1950s,

which is seen as already outmoded, though still
dangerous.
[75]     “Carrie White” is an interesting
combination. “Carrie,” as King takes pains to
point out, is not a nickname for Carol or
Carolina. Carrie’s given name is “Carietta,” an
unusual variant of “Caretta,” itself derived from
[80] “caritas,” or “charity” — loving and forgiving
kindness, the most important virtue in the
Christian triad of faith, hope and charity. This
kind of charity is noteworthily lacking in most
of the townspeople of Chamberlain. (Yes, there
[85] is a real Chamberlain, Maine, and I wonder how
its inhabitants felt when they discovered in
1974 that they’d be obliterated in 1979, the
year in which “Carrie” is set.)
    Most particularly, charitable loving
[90] kindness is entirely absent from Carrie’s
mother, nominally a devoted Christian, who
knows about Carrie’s superpowers, believes
she has inherited them from an eldritch, sugar-

bowl-levitating grandmother, and ascribes
[95] them to demonic energies and witchcraft, thus
viewing it as her pious duty to murder her own
child. Carrie herself wavers between love and
forgiveness and hate and revenge, but it’s the
hatred of the town that channels itself through
[100] her, tips her over the edge and transforms her
into an angel of destruction.
    As for “White,” you might be inclined
to think “white hat, black hat,” as in westerns,
or “white” as in innocent, white-clothed
[105] sacrificial lamb, and yes, Carrie is an innocent
— but also please consider “white trash.” The
white underclass has existed in America from
the beginning, and white trashers going back
generations are thick on the ground in Maine,
[110] Stephen King’s home territory — a territory he
has mined extensively over the course of his
career.
     He based the situation of Carrie on
two girls from that underclass whom he knew
[115] at school, both of them marked by poverty and
decaying clothing, both of them taunted and
despised and destroyed by their fellow
students. Everyone in the town was an
underdog in the carefully calibrated class
[120] structure of America — not for them the fancy
private schools and university educations,
unless they got really, really lucky.
    King is a visceral writer, and a master
of granular detail. As Marianne Moore said, the
[125] literary ideal is “imaginary gardens with real
toads in them,” and boy, are there a lot of
toads in King’s work! He writes “horror,” the
most literary of forms, especially when it
comes to the supernatural, which must 

[130] perforce be inspired by already existing tales
and books.
    But underneath the “horror,” in King,
is always the real horror: the all-too-actual
poverty and neglect and hunger and abuse that
[135] exists in America today. The ultimate horror,
for him as it was for Dickens, is human cruelty,
and especially cruelty to children. It is this that
distorts “charity,” the better side of our nature,
the side that prompts us to take care of others.

Adapted from: www.nytimes.com /2024/03/25