domingo, 22 de julho de 2012
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quarta-feira, 28 de março de 2012
sábado, 17 de março de 2012
quarta-feira, 29 de junho de 2011
Tecnologia
Fábrica da Apple no Brasil deverá ser construída em SP
Cidades localizadas no interior do estado são as preferidas pela empresa
A fábrica da Apple no Brasil deve ser abrigada no interior do estado de São Paulo. Com previsão de investimento de 12 bilhões de dólares em cinco anos, a Foxconn, fornecedora da Apple, deve anunciar até maio o nome da cidade escolhida para a instalação da fábrica. A empresa espera iniciar a produção em solo nacional em novembro deste ano.Nesta terça-feira, a Foxconn confirmou a construção de uma nova fábrica no Brasil. O anúncio foi feito pela presidente Dilma Rousseff em visita a China, onde teve um encontro a portas fechadas com representantes da empresa. A nova unidade brasileira começará a produzir o iPad – o cobiçado tablet da Apple - no país.
O anúncio confirma a notícia de que a gigante americana teria plano de iniciar o quanto antes a produção de tablets no país, a tempo de aproveitar os benefícios fiscais que o governo estudar conceder ao setor. Existe uma proposta do Ministério das Comunicações que prevê a redução do Imposto sobre Produtos Industrializados (IPI) como forma de diminuir o preço final dos tablets em mais de 30%. O site de VEJA adiantou ainda que a Apple estaria preocupada em ganhar terreno antes que a Positivo Informática – fabricante nacional tradicionalmente bem-sucedida em licitações governamentais – lançasse um produto equivalente com o programa para terminais móveis do Google, o Android.
domingo, 15 de maio de 2011
Optimistic, to a Point, About the Knicks’ Big Trade
Optimistic, to a Point, About the Knicks’ Big Trade
By MICHAEL POWELLMichael Powell, a business reporter for The Times, occasionally sends City Room dispatches about his beloved, bemoaned Knicks. Here are his thoughts on the Carmelo Anthony acquisition.
O.K, let me acknowledge the obvious. To be a Knicks fan is to wear my worry beads around my neck. So as I was about to go to sleep Sunday, and heard the word that the Knicks have acquired Carmelo Anthony from the Denver Nuggets, my first thought ran fatalistic: How much did the Nuggets extract from the Knicks owner, James L. Dolan, who has made such a spectacular hash of this team since inheriting it from his father?
The answer? More or less our entire young team. Certainly this trade draws down the curtain on the first half of the first hope-filled Knick season since William McKinley was president. (Or at least since the Patrick Ewing-Latrell Sprewell era.) That same curtain will now rise to reveal … a spectacularly talented offensive player, who rebounds well for a small forward, and who draws double-teams, which should help Amar’e Stoudemire, our ruling superstar, assuming that Melo has the good sense to pass him the ball.
Alas, Melo is not always noted for good sense, and he has too infrequently passed the ball in the past.
But I get ahead of myself. Let’s first tiptoe through the wreckage and see what we gave up, beginning with Wilson Chandler. The kid worked hard, he was long so he played better defense than he got credit for, and he blocked shots very well in a team context. But brain-lock could afflict him like a lingering cold, and he was a redundant piece with Melo’s arrival and could be restricted free agent this summer. Which meant the Knicks almost certainly would have let him walk. They need his to save their shekels for a point guard.
Raymond Felton: The little dude was heady and played a gutsy style of hoop. He shot too many threes, although that style is built into the Mike D’Antoni offense. And he showed signs these last two months (as has Amar’e) of wearing down under the relentless D’Antoni minutes. He has penetrated less, and he’s been finishing poorly at the hoop. (In fan-speak, he missed an awful lot of layups). But he’s 26, and the Knicks gave him up for a 34-year-old point guard. Chauncey Billups is a fine player, a champion more than once in the course of a long career, but for what it’s worth, he has never been the pure distributor that Felton was this year. Billups is averaging 5.4 assists; Felton is averaging 9.
On the other hand, Felton’s stats are inflated by playing in D’Antoni’s run-catch-let-it-fly offense, and Billups is a far better three-point shooter — 44 percent to Felton’s 32 percent.
So, for this year, this trade counts as a slight upgrade. But if D’Antoni makes Billups go 40 minutes a game, as he did with Felton, look for one of this elderly point guard’s legs to detach and fall to the court sometime in late March. As well, we will see a lot more of Toney Douglas, who sometimes plays defense like Darrell Walker and most often plays the point like Ray Charles.
Danilo Galllllll-inari: Milano Boy had grit, and a certain hallucinatory confidence; I particularly enjoyed when he would demand a chance to cover, say, Lebron. He as often got torched, if not split in two, but his fire was fun. An All-Star upside may not reside within him, but freed of the pressure of New York, he could turn into a 20-point scorer and a good all around player with the right coaching. Oh, you said George Karl will be his coach, whose golden touch tends toward brass? Mama Mia, demand a trade.
Anthony Randolph: Home boy saw no burn, none, and he has this weird corkscrew motion on his jumper that to my eye suggests he’ll never be truly reliable at 15 to 18 feet. With a build that is waiflike even after a good breakfast, he has his limits as a big man. But this speaks to D’Antoni’s failure as well: His too-tight rotation leaves too much on the bench, and he loses patience with young players. This kid just might have been our Marcus Camby, a Gumby-like shot blocker and board sweeper, in another year.
Timofey Mozgov, or The Mark of James Dolan: This, I assume, was our very own Idiot Prince at his most subliminally idiotic, tossing young pieces of his team out the window of his Long Island palace simply because he can. I will go out on a limb and predict that this kid — again, putting aside the Karl (No Player Shall Improve on My Watch) Factor — will be a top 12 to 15 N.B.A. center. He’s athletic, works hard, blocks shots, and as a rebounder he shows a nose for the ball. In the N.B.A., there aren’t a lot of those. And we just tossed him away.
The sense one got in those final days was of Donnie Walsh, with that Bronx poker face of his, with his cards tightly pressed against his chest. Gallo seemed likely his trump card — hold him back until the very last minute, and then deal. Then Dolan strolls into Los Angeles and gets a case of the giggles and tosses cards out there.
So what we get? To be a Knicks fan is to feel like a Scottish Highlander with ancestral memories of so many losses. For the gray (or no) hairs out there, there’s the Spencer Haywood/Bob McAdoo pairing, which came to ill so quickly. And there’s another point of worry: as the ESPN columnist Bill Simmons pointed out recently, D’Antoni played Amar’e some insane number of minutes over a stretch in December. Since then, his numbers have dipped. It’s like a star pitcher — you don’t burn him out in July.
But look, let me try on optimism, even if it’s an ill-fitting suit for any Knicks fan. We get a major, young, offensive player, who can fill the hoop. Presumably, he’s going to want to prove he can win, which is to say he’s going to want to prove he can pass. Should he and Amar’e co-exist, they could give a migraine to defenders at crunch time. And we held on to Landry Fields, who is one of the savviest young players in the N.B.A.
And, lest we forget, we get back one of Isiah Thomas’ first-round draft picks in the form of Renaldo Balkman, who carries an average of just 2.6 points per game and 0.8 rebounds, but at least gives us one of the N.B.A.’s better hair braids.
The answer? More or less our entire young team. Certainly this trade draws down the curtain on the first half of the first hope-filled Knick season since William McKinley was president. (Or at least since the Patrick Ewing-Latrell Sprewell era.) That same curtain will now rise to reveal … a spectacularly talented offensive player, who rebounds well for a small forward, and who draws double-teams, which should help Amar’e Stoudemire, our ruling superstar, assuming that Melo has the good sense to pass him the ball.
Alas, Melo is not always noted for good sense, and he has too infrequently passed the ball in the past.
But I get ahead of myself. Let’s first tiptoe through the wreckage and see what we gave up, beginning with Wilson Chandler. The kid worked hard, he was long so he played better defense than he got credit for, and he blocked shots very well in a team context. But brain-lock could afflict him like a lingering cold, and he was a redundant piece with Melo’s arrival and could be restricted free agent this summer. Which meant the Knicks almost certainly would have let him walk. They need his to save their shekels for a point guard.
Raymond Felton: The little dude was heady and played a gutsy style of hoop. He shot too many threes, although that style is built into the Mike D’Antoni offense. And he showed signs these last two months (as has Amar’e) of wearing down under the relentless D’Antoni minutes. He has penetrated less, and he’s been finishing poorly at the hoop. (In fan-speak, he missed an awful lot of layups). But he’s 26, and the Knicks gave him up for a 34-year-old point guard. Chauncey Billups is a fine player, a champion more than once in the course of a long career, but for what it’s worth, he has never been the pure distributor that Felton was this year. Billups is averaging 5.4 assists; Felton is averaging 9.
On the other hand, Felton’s stats are inflated by playing in D’Antoni’s run-catch-let-it-fly offense, and Billups is a far better three-point shooter — 44 percent to Felton’s 32 percent.
So, for this year, this trade counts as a slight upgrade. But if D’Antoni makes Billups go 40 minutes a game, as he did with Felton, look for one of this elderly point guard’s legs to detach and fall to the court sometime in late March. As well, we will see a lot more of Toney Douglas, who sometimes plays defense like Darrell Walker and most often plays the point like Ray Charles.
Danilo Galllllll-inari: Milano Boy had grit, and a certain hallucinatory confidence; I particularly enjoyed when he would demand a chance to cover, say, Lebron. He as often got torched, if not split in two, but his fire was fun. An All-Star upside may not reside within him, but freed of the pressure of New York, he could turn into a 20-point scorer and a good all around player with the right coaching. Oh, you said George Karl will be his coach, whose golden touch tends toward brass? Mama Mia, demand a trade.
Anthony Randolph: Home boy saw no burn, none, and he has this weird corkscrew motion on his jumper that to my eye suggests he’ll never be truly reliable at 15 to 18 feet. With a build that is waiflike even after a good breakfast, he has his limits as a big man. But this speaks to D’Antoni’s failure as well: His too-tight rotation leaves too much on the bench, and he loses patience with young players. This kid just might have been our Marcus Camby, a Gumby-like shot blocker and board sweeper, in another year.
Timofey Mozgov, or The Mark of James Dolan: This, I assume, was our very own Idiot Prince at his most subliminally idiotic, tossing young pieces of his team out the window of his Long Island palace simply because he can. I will go out on a limb and predict that this kid — again, putting aside the Karl (No Player Shall Improve on My Watch) Factor — will be a top 12 to 15 N.B.A. center. He’s athletic, works hard, blocks shots, and as a rebounder he shows a nose for the ball. In the N.B.A., there aren’t a lot of those. And we just tossed him away.
The sense one got in those final days was of Donnie Walsh, with that Bronx poker face of his, with his cards tightly pressed against his chest. Gallo seemed likely his trump card — hold him back until the very last minute, and then deal. Then Dolan strolls into Los Angeles and gets a case of the giggles and tosses cards out there.
So what we get? To be a Knicks fan is to feel like a Scottish Highlander with ancestral memories of so many losses. For the gray (or no) hairs out there, there’s the Spencer Haywood/Bob McAdoo pairing, which came to ill so quickly. And there’s another point of worry: as the ESPN columnist Bill Simmons pointed out recently, D’Antoni played Amar’e some insane number of minutes over a stretch in December. Since then, his numbers have dipped. It’s like a star pitcher — you don’t burn him out in July.
But look, let me try on optimism, even if it’s an ill-fitting suit for any Knicks fan. We get a major, young, offensive player, who can fill the hoop. Presumably, he’s going to want to prove he can win, which is to say he’s going to want to prove he can pass. Should he and Amar’e co-exist, they could give a migraine to defenders at crunch time. And we held on to Landry Fields, who is one of the savviest young players in the N.B.A.
And, lest we forget, we get back one of Isiah Thomas’ first-round draft picks in the form of Renaldo Balkman, who carries an average of just 2.6 points per game and 0.8 rebounds, but at least gives us one of the N.B.A.’s better hair braids.
Boxing Here, but Focusing on Egypt
Boxing Here, but Focusing on Egypt
By DANNY GOLD
Donna Alberico for The New York Times Ahmed Samir with his trainer, Leon Taylor, at Mendez Boxing on West 26th Street.Three and a half years ago, Mr. Samir had stood in Kennedy International Airport grappling with the decision of his life. He had arrived with the Egyptian national boxing team to fight in the 2007 World Boxing Championships in Chicago. Instead of boarding the connecting flight, he skipped out, leaving his team and effectively defecting.
“I was so tired, so sick of the system in Egypt,” he said. “You’re always afraid of everything, there’s no future for us.”
Cut to the present. Mr. Samir, 6 feet 1, 215 pounds, 26 years old and living in Astoria, Queens, has amassed a 10-0 record as a professional heavyweight, fighting out of Mendez Boxing club on West 26th Street. His purses are not yet high enough to let him quit his job as a part-time security guard, but they are growing.
Donna Alberico for The New York Times Mr. Samir walked away from the Egyptian national boxing team in 2007 and settled in New York.After his defection, Mr. Samir traveled a path familiar to new immigrants. An uncle took him in and supported him, helping him land a job at a pizza place and eventually taking him to a gym.
Adjusting was tough. Mr. Samir had language difficulties and missed his family, including three younger sisters and a younger brother.
Meanwhile, the Egyptian news media called Mr. Samir a traitor and said he left his country to deliver pizzas.
“Many athletes had done it before, but with him it was a different story,” said the uncle, Mohammed Alam. “He was young and they expected a lot from him; they wanted the gold medal in Beijing” in the 2008 Olympics. He remembered opening an Egyptian newspaper to see a story about his nephew. “There were a lot of bad news reports,” he said.
While Mr. Samir had won gold medals at the 2007 All-African Games and the 2007 Arab Championships and racked up a 198-13 amateur record in Egypt, it took time for him to be taken seriously here. But he said that if he dared return home, he would have faced arrest or a fine of up to $100,000. He chuckled at the figure, recalling his meager salary.
Watching from afar, Mr. Samir first thought the protests against President Hosni Mubarak were little more than a joke. Rebellion, let alone revolution, seemed preposterous. That changed quickly. “I was so proud of my nation,” he said Thursday. “I was so happy.”
Mr. Samir, who has obtained a green card here, said he planned to return to Egypt for a brief stay in the next month, though he would not provide specific dates because he was still somewhat fearful. But for the first time, he feels optimistic.
“I hope everything changes and the new government understands what I’m doing for my country,” he said. “I mean, my nickname is even the Prince of Egypt.”
A Long Run Before a Much, Much Longer Trek
A Long Run Before a Much, Much Longer Trek
By JASON TOMASSINI
Photographs by Michael Appleton for The New York Times Kind of like the tundra, except with trees and semi-cleared running paths: Pat Farmer in Central Park last month.Four hours later, Mr. Farmer, 48, had run a marathon — four laps along the circumference of the park. Pretty impressive, perhaps. But for Mr. Farmer, it’s just part of his daily training routine.
And starting soon, Mr. Farmer plans to run two marathons a day. From near the North Pole until he approaches the South Pole.
Even in an increasingly crowded field of athletic endurance stunts undertaken for worthy causes, Mr. Farmer, an Australian ultramarathoner and former member of his nation’s Parliament, stands out. He is soon to embark on an 11-month, 11,000-mile journey that will cost up to $5 million to stage and that is hoped will raise $100 million for Red Cross water relief programs in third-world countries.
Central Park, with its varying terrain and, these days, frigid temperatures, offered a good place to train, Mr. Farmer said. (The park even has polar bears, though they are, of course, in the zoo.) He will continue to circle the park for a few more days.
Pat FarmerMr. Farmer’s journey begins on April 2, when he and his crew — an expedition leader and a two-man camera crew — will be airlifted to the North Pole. He will spend about 50 days in the North Pole, running about 25 miles a day while trekking through the ice dragging a sled and a kayak; his expedition leader will carry a .44 Magnum to fend off polar bears.
Once he leaves the harsh conditions near the pole, he plans to do two marathons daily — about 52 miles. The trip will take him through 14 countries and wind along the western portions of Canada, the United States and Central and South America. He will sleep in tents and an RV. When he reaches the Darién Gap, a 100-mile-long, undeveloped jungle that bridges Panama and Colombia, he will require military escort.
One recent Friday, Mr. Farmer, who is about 5 feet 9 inches tall and 145 pounds, began his run wearing spandex running pants, a knit cap, Nike running shoes, thick black gloves and three layers of running skins beneath a white hooded sweatshirt. By the end of his second lap, he had stripped down to a short-sleeve shirt. His finishing time, counting breaks and slowdowns to talk to his two teenage children and a reporter, was about 4 hours 20 minutes.
“You’re just a machine and you do the same thing day after day,” he said after his run, sitting in a coffee shop on Central Park West. “You have to treat yourself like a machine, not like a human.”
Some of his fellow machines are legion. Guy Fessenden, a 53-year-old from Hartsdale, N.Y., is running from Georgia to Los Angeles to raise awareness for mental health disorders. After her granddaughter received a bone marrow transplant, Jeana Moore of Deer Park, Washington, decided to walk across the country to benefit the procedure, finishing Jan. 27 in Manhattan. Last summer Yijoo Kwon, a 64-year-old Korean immigrant and diabetic from New Jersey, completed a run from Los Angeles to Manhattan to promote diabetes awareness.
Even animals have been pressed into service: a goat named Doni was driven (in a car) across the country over the summer to raise money for homeless teenagers.
Most of these treks are inspired at least in part by some kind of personal event. In Mr. Farmer’s case, his wife, Lisa, died unexpectedly of an undiagnosed heart condition while the two were planning a run around Australia. The next year, Mr. Farmer completed the 9,000-mile run on his own, in 191 days.
His two children, Brooke, 15, and Dillon, 13, will remain in Australia during his pole-to-pole adventure, but traveled with him to New York. During the early part of Mr. Farmer’s training, they and the family of Mr. Farmer’s media manager Greg Quail (what fund-raising marathon would be complete without a media manager?) holed up in a coffee shop on Central Park West as Mr. Farmer ran. While meeting with a reporter, they ate eggs and Vegemite on toast and talked about the weather. Some of the children sang Katy Perry and Justin Bieber songs.
After Mr. Farmer’s second lap, Brooke, Dillon and Mr. Quail left to meet him. As they saw Mr. Farmer ascending a hill toward them near West 110th Street, Dillon ran down and joined his father for a few hundred yards. At the top of the hill, Mr. Quail waited with hot chocolate and Brooke waited with water, hard-boiled eggs and Gu, a high-protein energy gel that looks like it sounds.
When the greeting and snack time ended, Mr. Farmer took off again, passing several runners on his way out of view. The children decided to go sledding.
“They just think it’s normal,” Mr. Farmer said of his children later at the coffee shop. At that point Brooke interjected, “He’s done so many crazy things.”
Complaint Box | Standing in the Stands
Complaint Box | Standing in the Stands
By MURRAY GREENBERG
P. C. Vey Complaint Box
Got a Gripe?
Get a grip. Send your rant — no more than 500 words, please — to: metropolitan@nytimes.com.
Not long ago, I ventured to New Meadowlands Stadium to see the New York Giants battle the Washington Redskins. What I saw instead was the hundreds of fans in the rows in front of me who constantly rose from their seats at the slightest incitement.
My seats were excellent — in the lower tier, at the 30-yard line — but they might as well have been standing-room only, because the only hope of catching more than a fleeting glimpse of the field during play was to stand. The ceaseless parade of beer-seeking fans traipsing from their seats to the concession stands during play didn’t exactly enhance the viewing experience, either. Read more…
Wheeee! It’s the Sled-Cam!
Wheeee! It’s the Sled-Cam!
By THE NEW YORK TIMESHere is your vicarious snow thrill, live (Thursday) from Breeze Hill Prospect Park, Brooklyn, courtesy of the Prospect-Lefferts Gardens blog Plog. Thank you, Plog.
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