segunda-feira, 22 de fevereiro de 2010


Na The New Yorker que está nas bancas -, um perfil do PAUL KRUGMAN – no estilo daqueles da PIAUÍ. Gostei demais de uma foto dele e sua esposa, com os seus dois "amigos": a gata Doris Lessing e o gato Albert Einstein. Não é nada, não é nada, mas o colega tem um NOBEL na parede. E inteligência até na hora de escolher o nome dos felinos.
Uma pequena prévia do texto, apenas para o início de uma boa semana:
Their apartment in New York is in the same neighborhood as both Jeffrey Sachs’s and Joseph Stiglitz’s, but since they bought it, a few years ago, they haven’t seen either of them. Krugman doesn’t get out much, socially. But he travels constantly, speaking at conferences, speaking for pay, promoting his books. “I’m not a very easygoing person one on one, but put me in front of five hundred people and I get very relaxed and conversational,” he says. Years ago, when he was just an economist, he did a lot of speaking at corporate events. “I wasn’t enjoying those so much,” he says. “One of them was held at a golf course, and I gave the luncheon talk and I was thinking to myself, I could just as well have been a magician. And then, at dinner, they did have a magician!” These days, the Times forbids him to do gigs like that, to avoid conflicts of interest, but his book publisher sends him all over the place. “I don’t sell as many books as Tom Friedman does,” Krugman says. “That’s O.K. Tom gives you this, you know, ‘I was talking to somebody in Bangalore and this is what I saw.’ That’s a skill I don’t have.” Perhaps this is fortunate, because he finds book tours exhausting.

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