Stare....

When you look at her, she looks back at you.
~ Knowsley, Liverpool.

Night Windows and Testy Dates...

I cant put into words how amused I am by people who so high-handedly review books, movie and other pieces of art as if they owned the item. They simply forget that they do it for a living.In my experience most of them are boring talentless pseud-wankers. And chances are you cant find an iota of original creativity inside even if you squeeze them out upside down. And they shamelessly spill their shenanigans all when they havent even seen anything similar to life.

The last blog reminded me of a friend who always made it a point to take his date on a cinema and ask her what she thought. The catch was a) No references to actors, directors etc ( pseudo-clichéd sentences like I think Mullick’s shot are meditative or Tarantino’s scripts are evolving etc) b) No criticism. Which meant the movie had to be explained from her perspective alone, then and there. Of course it was all done subtly without putting her in a spot. His theory was that the little exercise saves money, time and chances of having a heart attack in later life. And I wholeheartedly agree.


Anyway, Here's a marvellous painting and equally wonderful words by Edward Hopper. And I don’t have to tell you; the words come from someone who knows about life.

In every artist's development the germ of the later work is always found in the earlier. T'he nucleus around which the artist's intellect builds his work is himself; the central ego, personality, or whatever it may be called, and this changes little from birth to death. What he was once, he always is, with slight modification. Changing fashion in methods or subject matter alters him little or not at all.



~Edward Hopper.

Painting- Night Windows, Edward Hopper 1928, Museum of Modern Art, New York.

Think Again. Tagblog.

I have been tagged to write about a few bloggers who I regard as thinking. Right, I must start off by saying I really don’t know the definitive boundaries of who would make a thinking blogger. Besides, everyone thinks.

I suppose most people consider someone who can articulate well as a thinking blogger. To me far from it really. I cant be bothered about conjunctions or grammar. If the blog suffices to convey an unique perspective, I would be more than glad to hang around. To me its better than paining oneself through a heap of correctly used syntaxes, punctuation etc to arrive at nothing that you didn’t know before. Well, call it impatience.

Personally , since starting this blog I have seen the change within myself reflected here. Now I find myself lacking in inclination and more importantly in time to wade through a stack of useless pastimes and pseudo-rational self beliefs to find some needle that's useful and feel good about it. I am certainly more happier to hang around a couple of blogs which seem to be consistently independent, unique and secure. So I would just have to write about a few bloggers whom I have been following, seen evolve or have established a rapport through their blogs. With or without thinking.

So now that we have adequately complicated matters lets get down to the write-up.

Hmmm, as I have said I value independence and observational perspectives generated by personal experiences highly. With these, even though she cant give directions properly , I would have to mention Finny . However unsettled or discontent she might sound at times I can assure the blog is unique both in form and content and more importantly it isn’t afraid of making a mistake. I think her Roy Derrida blog is a gem of an original argument. I would easily take it any day instead of some myopic drivel.

Next would have to be Rajesh. Though his blog in a traditional sense is limited in its range, it makes up in quality. Quite easily one of the decent non-pompous Indian blog by miles. I’m hoping that after taking care of his other priorities he starts writing more regularly for the blog.

One of the other blogger who has held my interest of late is Will. Some of the arguments are compelling and worth mulling over. I have to dive into the archives whenever I have time.

When Maurice contacted me early this year asking for entries for his assort blog Concelebratory Shoe Horn , I thought it was just another keen now soon to turn banal effort. But must say concelebratory has turned out wonderfully. It features one of the most diverse and most creative assemblages that I have seen online. Goes spendidly with a tea.

And then there is the wonderfully dadaistic Brim blog that always sheds light from a different corner of the tunnel.

Speaking of assort blogs I cant leave out the Pigmentium . Last year when I realised that most of the online time goes unaccounted for , I thought of mixing online time with some structured learning. I was looking to find some strict commitment within bloggers who are motivated to learn. And I found Elle and Kay (who wishes to be anonymous). And they are simply great; they are instrumental in translating the brainchild into some real worth. If I can easily say a Corot from a Constable from about 25 metres, without any doubt they deserve the credit.

That’s it I think.

Holyrood..

The Scottish parliament or the Holyrood as it is popularly referred to is perhaps the most excitingly imaginative building I've seen recently. There is not a single piece of predictability in the entire structure. Although at first it might appear that the exterior is unconventional, Im told that it is based on a theme. Most of the unique raw materials are derived to depict the scottishness of it; also here's what very few know - that the unseeable aerial view is built in the form of a harbour with the boats moving in to the dock; a tribute to the history of Edinburgh. The interior, meanwhile is a marvellous epitome of modern imagination unlike most of current architecthought which seems to believe that all beauty must be defined solely by glass and space.

It's not a surprise that the building has been controversial for popular taste, but , I think it complements Edinburgh splendidly.

Here's a aerial view of the structure. Much thanks to The trouser rollers for letting me use it here.

More where else?
Cheers

Departure before Arrival.....

Even an unconditioned retard rat in a lab would pick The Departed as the worst of the movies directed by Scorsese. I had a good hunch about its theatricality after reading an interview with the cast on the Time around its release. Yet watched it for the sake of it. Post-modern conversations, ailment I know. And the movie is like one of those American crime soaps, which has lost its steam somewhere in mid nineties.
The characters are hazy, shallow and full of lets-get-this-over-type of confusion. And the screenplay, yes the screenplay is amusing even by American standards. Halfway I had to check if in fact it was the right movie. While Jack Nicholson was playing batman joker with a hangover, Matt Damon was busy changing his Sim faster than Jason Bourne to call his dad right in the Massachusetts Police engine room. Leonardo meanwhile was angry at the world and just weeping to have more valium. A few other aging stars thrown in to complete the tragedy that would have made even Shakespeare proud. And Hold your breath, to think that Scorsese had to win the Apologetic Oscar for this. Oh, mother universe, aint you such a paradox?

Consider some of the hilarious segments of the script that I remember-

Leo looking at Nicholson:
Hey look, I am not a rat okay?
I am not a rat okay?
OK. Valium withdrawal?

The sassy police shrink to Leo:
Your vulnerability is freaking me out? Is it real?
Hmm, er, well what do you think?

Alec Baldwin to Matt Damon:
You are like my son. You are in charge.
Wow great, do I get a new mobile too?



Comical is the word. Disgrace.

Bloomsday..

Bloomsday Readings, James Joyce centre, Dublin.

Sixty Two Years

Sixty two
Years! How can they
do it?

To be married
that long, in fact a lifetime

like those

paired body parts that
work with each other,


Flexors extensors; Right
and left.

Together, all through

those

Wonders , winters

even
World Wars.




Ask them that

and
they shake in delight

holding hands proudly ,


frail on their own but perfect
together,

Not two separate
lives, but
two insepa-
rable

Dreams tugged

unto eachother

like a Sweden

embraced in a Norway.

For ever

for memory.


For


a

lifetime.

Chef-d'oeuvre

What
a
gobsmacking gay shite with
pinkly puked bright shallots
gently
covered
by circle
line.

Paris, go laugh your red wine laugh- sneery-

la flexiblue

la die now meeek

la maad erne

Don't want to talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.


Oui.

Trivia info needed, bloody comrades..

Not that I am meaning to read it, but a conversation has led to pursuing some related trivia. Google seems inconsistent and incomplete. Could someone please tell me with a credible reference where exactly was the first papers/ draft of The Communist Manifesto written?