Thursday, December 25, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Christmas Eve
I am tired. Grumpy. Fed up.
I have back pain. Which hurts. A mean one.
Today I met Wendell Manwarren who expressed his appreciation for my articulateness. Yeh. Made me think about 3 canal. For a while. But then we went to the mall for WAYYY too long.
And so: I am tired. Grumpy...
I have back pain. Which hurts. A mean one.
Today I met Wendell Manwarren who expressed his appreciation for my articulateness. Yeh. Made me think about 3 canal. For a while. But then we went to the mall for WAYYY too long.
And so: I am tired. Grumpy...
Friday, December 19, 2008
What are we trying to escape?
"I just want to get out"
I've heard that many times, along with "needing a break" and "I can't take it any more". All said in relation to living in Trinidad and Tobago. What a hellhole. Who would want to live here? The tireless retort is, "What about doubles? Roti? Carnival? Jouvert?", and other "prime" examples of "we culture". Then the retort to the retort mentions potholes, inadequate education system, corruption, the "development". Around this point is when the subject is changed or I just stop listening. But there really is a sense of "place", "space" and home here. There are ex-pats that--sometimes comically over-enthusiastically-- totally immerse themselves in "the culture", becoming more hardcore than many born and bred right here. They do amazing things: bird watching catalogues; save the natural beauty rallies; wining doubles-eating competitions; professing a love for Sparrow and David that is all-consuming; Panorama is and annual ritual; etc. After a while even they start to complain too! And of course, this raises a multitude of questions, not the least of which is, "Why the fuck can't we do it we-selves man??!!! This white-man hadda come and do it fuh we?!". There are many, many ways to answer this...jab into the dark. Which I will come to later.
Other phenomenon include that amazing way the Caribbean people can just OWN a place. A trumpet-playing acquaintance of sorts, residing in New York, says that when he's homesick henjust has to go by so-and-so street, a little stretch that is deisgned to be a replica of Frederick/Charlotte Street. ("Of course", i wanted to say,"without the pungent attacks on the nostrils, over-crowded "pavements", overflowing improvised rubbish bins (boxes and such);sometimes, just a heap. In the way.)
One thing we don't seem to export is the "who d ass u think u is" demeanour. Definitely a homesickness; I have not met an emmigrant who does not miss home. (That may just be out of guilt though). No matter the convenience of life somewhere else, they want to get home, if only for a lil while, a fix.
"Home".
Home.
I've heard that many times, along with "needing a break" and "I can't take it any more". All said in relation to living in Trinidad and Tobago. What a hellhole. Who would want to live here? The tireless retort is, "What about doubles? Roti? Carnival? Jouvert?", and other "prime" examples of "we culture". Then the retort to the retort mentions potholes, inadequate education system, corruption, the "development". Around this point is when the subject is changed or I just stop listening. But there really is a sense of "place", "space" and home here. There are ex-pats that--sometimes comically over-enthusiastically-- totally immerse themselves in "the culture", becoming more hardcore than many born and bred right here. They do amazing things: bird watching catalogues; save the natural beauty rallies; wining doubles-eating competitions; professing a love for Sparrow and David that is all-consuming; Panorama is and annual ritual; etc. After a while even they start to complain too! And of course, this raises a multitude of questions, not the least of which is, "Why the fuck can't we do it we-selves man??!!! This white-man hadda come and do it fuh we?!". There are many, many ways to answer this...jab into the dark. Which I will come to later.
Other phenomenon include that amazing way the Caribbean people can just OWN a place. A trumpet-playing acquaintance of sorts, residing in New York, says that when he's homesick henjust has to go by so-and-so street, a little stretch that is deisgned to be a replica of Frederick/Charlotte Street. ("Of course", i wanted to say,"without the pungent attacks on the nostrils, over-crowded "pavements", overflowing improvised rubbish bins (boxes and such);sometimes, just a heap. In the way.)
One thing we don't seem to export is the "who d ass u think u is" demeanour. Definitely a homesickness; I have not met an emmigrant who does not miss home. (That may just be out of guilt though). No matter the convenience of life somewhere else, they want to get home, if only for a lil while, a fix.
"Home".
Home.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Catholic Theology of the Body Conference.
"SEX IS GOOD";"HAVE LOTS OF SEX"; "MAN WAS MADE FOR SEX"; "YOU HAVE A PENIS!"; "USE IT FOR SEX"
Yep; that just about sums up the conference (I am leaving out the "with your spouse" bit, but really, its all about the sex, I don't care who you do it with, right?).
The host was a thirty-something, short, cutting the tourist look (short sleeved, yellow shirt, tucked into relaxed-fit bland trousers); it was obvious he had not traveled much, and he admitted to that quite early on. He's still settling down into public speaking, but he was not bad; he had a practiced method, and used it well. There was lots of violent, supposedly expressive, whole-body movement; running up and down in the aisles; punch lines for the jokes were the same, and easily foreseen. Easy complements on Trinidad and Tobago's exuberant singing and "joie de vivre" were scattered. The crowd, ranging from "mature couples" to mini teenage youth group posses, was more or less entertained. For me, the first hour was good, as he confirmed something I already believed in: "Sex is Good". But after that is was the same, basic stuff: Men, don't use/abuse/disrespect women. Women, vice versa. Women, be proud of what you are. Men, you don't really need this point. Yada, yada, yada. Any person with a basic sense of integrity should be able to come to these conclusions; no-one should pay $250 per day. It did touch people though, thank God for that. I saw it with my own eyes, and was glad they thought the money well-spent. Me, I wasted a weekend.
There was lots of soul-bearing: the host had been a vagabond, and told us a lil anecdote about trying to give up sex for lent, then only lasting 2 days; some guy said that he could not believe that guys could wait and work for a woman to climax!!
Yep; that just about sums up the conference (I am leaving out the "with your spouse" bit, but really, its all about the sex, I don't care who you do it with, right?).
The host was a thirty-something, short, cutting the tourist look (short sleeved, yellow shirt, tucked into relaxed-fit bland trousers); it was obvious he had not traveled much, and he admitted to that quite early on. He's still settling down into public speaking, but he was not bad; he had a practiced method, and used it well. There was lots of violent, supposedly expressive, whole-body movement; running up and down in the aisles; punch lines for the jokes were the same, and easily foreseen. Easy complements on Trinidad and Tobago's exuberant singing and "joie de vivre" were scattered. The crowd, ranging from "mature couples" to mini teenage youth group posses, was more or less entertained. For me, the first hour was good, as he confirmed something I already believed in: "Sex is Good". But after that is was the same, basic stuff: Men, don't use/abuse/disrespect women. Women, vice versa. Women, be proud of what you are. Men, you don't really need this point. Yada, yada, yada. Any person with a basic sense of integrity should be able to come to these conclusions; no-one should pay $250 per day. It did touch people though, thank God for that. I saw it with my own eyes, and was glad they thought the money well-spent. Me, I wasted a weekend.
There was lots of soul-bearing: the host had been a vagabond, and told us a lil anecdote about trying to give up sex for lent, then only lasting 2 days; some guy said that he could not believe that guys could wait and work for a woman to climax!!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Okay, let me tell you what just happened: I opened up this blog, meaning to write at least a "lil sumtin nah", but--wait for it--courage left me hanging like that julie mango that is just a little too high and a little too much on the other side of your neighbour's bare-brick, 7-foot high wall; just out-of-reach.
Now, let me tell you what I did: I went all Caribbean-Thinker-ish; reading Nicholas Laughlin; Marlon James; reviews of Calabash; Annie Paul etc. And now I am inspired; I am typing away. Well, not "typing away" as in being-so-inspired-to-be-at-once-suddenly-euphoric-and-energised-and-to-set-at-the-keyboard-to-clatter-away;no, not in that way at all. Just as in opening the window, hesitating, then just wishing and hoping that words will flow. And if they did, remembering to type in standard english. All quite the exercise to decrease word rate, low word rate decreases thought rate by a process that I am simply to tired to even glance at right now. And anyway, most people should be able to relate, right?
Now, let me paint you a more panoramic picture: in the last few days, what has happened? I've been traumatised by a stalker at the National Public Library (he followed me up Penbroke Street to dad's office too, he even knocked on the door after sprinted inside. Dad went out and dealt with him; school finished on Friday,came first in bio; my parents forced me to go with them to a Catholic conference, I protested, which resulted in me being able to tell people about my lack of belief; a girl has done what girls do, flip the world upside down, though not so disastrous in my case; and I've spent the last three days holed up in the house, watching House and, sporadically, have been trying to wrap my head around some of the writings of David Foster Wallace; I also, I think, have been dipping in and out of depression.
Well, that's quite a full life, is it not? Or, I could alter, not my thinking, but my way of thinking, I could tell myself that this is life for everybody else, I am not special and should really stop complaining, even think about complaining, for This is water!! (David Foster Wallace http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html)
Now for the detail (have you noticed that even though my thought process within the paragraph is quite random, I seem to list them, to have a pre-determined order? There is order to my mess!): The stalker. I was traumatised; no story.
>School, well, is a disappointment, and I've got an I.A. to do during this Christmas!
>Yes, I can finally tell people that do no agree with, participate in, believe; I do NOT CARE about God, or Gods, or god. Done. BLAH!!!!!
>Yes, the girl. Well... I'll stop here, where its safest.
>Being holed up in a house, supposedly depressed, is not healthy. I am hungry, I don't eat; I see people online, I don't talk; I read news blandly, inactively,eyes just running from side to side lazily, skipping words, sentences, whole paragraphs, whole pages!; the sun is shining, the air is sweet, I don't go outside; I reflect on my arrogance and supposedly rock-solid view of the world, the rock cracks; I try to read Crime and Punishment, it doesn't hold me; I clean (thats weird enough, there's not need to extrapolate); music is dull, the skip button is over-used; food is grey. Eugh.
Two thoughts: is this water?; and, it can't possibly be the girl, can it?
There were a few things unchanged: House is the second-best bomb; West Wing IS the bomb; So is David Foster Wallace; mum is grumpy and dad is tired.
Now, let me tell you what I did: I went all Caribbean-Thinker-ish; reading Nicholas Laughlin; Marlon James; reviews of Calabash; Annie Paul etc. And now I am inspired; I am typing away. Well, not "typing away" as in being-so-inspired-to-be-at-once-suddenly-euphoric-and-energised-and-to-set-at-the-keyboard-to-clatter-away;no, not in that way at all. Just as in opening the window, hesitating, then just wishing and hoping that words will flow. And if they did, remembering to type in standard english. All quite the exercise to decrease word rate, low word rate decreases thought rate by a process that I am simply to tired to even glance at right now. And anyway, most people should be able to relate, right?
Now, let me paint you a more panoramic picture: in the last few days, what has happened? I've been traumatised by a stalker at the National Public Library (he followed me up Penbroke Street to dad's office too, he even knocked on the door after sprinted inside. Dad went out and dealt with him; school finished on Friday,came first in bio; my parents forced me to go with them to a Catholic conference, I protested, which resulted in me being able to tell people about my lack of belief; a girl has done what girls do, flip the world upside down, though not so disastrous in my case; and I've spent the last three days holed up in the house, watching House and, sporadically, have been trying to wrap my head around some of the writings of David Foster Wallace; I also, I think, have been dipping in and out of depression.
Well, that's quite a full life, is it not? Or, I could alter, not my thinking, but my way of thinking, I could tell myself that this is life for everybody else, I am not special and should really stop complaining, even think about complaining, for This is water!! (David Foster Wallace http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html)
Now for the detail (have you noticed that even though my thought process within the paragraph is quite random, I seem to list them, to have a pre-determined order? There is order to my mess!): The stalker. I was traumatised; no story.
>School, well, is a disappointment, and I've got an I.A. to do during this Christmas!
>Yes, I can finally tell people that do no agree with, participate in, believe; I do NOT CARE about God, or Gods, or god. Done. BLAH!!!!!
>Yes, the girl. Well... I'll stop here, where its safest.
>Being holed up in a house, supposedly depressed, is not healthy. I am hungry, I don't eat; I see people online, I don't talk; I read news blandly, inactively,eyes just running from side to side lazily, skipping words, sentences, whole paragraphs, whole pages!; the sun is shining, the air is sweet, I don't go outside; I reflect on my arrogance and supposedly rock-solid view of the world, the rock cracks; I try to read Crime and Punishment, it doesn't hold me; I clean (thats weird enough, there's not need to extrapolate); music is dull, the skip button is over-used; food is grey. Eugh.
Two thoughts: is this water?; and, it can't possibly be the girl, can it?
There were a few things unchanged: House is the second-best bomb; West Wing IS the bomb; So is David Foster Wallace; mum is grumpy and dad is tired.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Introduction: This I.A. is meant to identify an irony: there are many, many parallels between Caribbean Contemporary Art and the Caribbean studies syllabus, yet there is no mention of Caribbean Contemporary art in the Caribbean Studies syllabus. A brief scan and the syllabus’ main topics, hybridisation, nationalist identity, external influence, and many more, are addressed by contemporary artists quite affectively, so why is there no mention of contemporary art? The Caribbean Studies Syllabus was developed to “develop Caribbean citizens with a keen awareness of the potential and challenges of the region”; to produce individual with knowledge of their “identity”, however broken, indefinable and mutated. What better way to do this than to encourage interpretation of something tangible? Encourage discussion with artists that aim to categorise Caribbean “identity? Would this not be effective in developing a “Caribbean identity” in individuals? Alas, this cannot happen. They mythical “they”, “them in Jamaica , Barbados
We will never know, for this is definitely not encouraged, in fact, more like repressed with this syllabus. A great example of this disastrous shortcoming is this I.A. itself: with a word limit of 2,000 and strict marking schemes based on processes of research, it is clear that the aim of this assignment is not that the student must produce anything substantial, not at all, but for the student to perform the exercise of research, so that the student is “better prepared for the rigours of tertiary education”, namely thesis-writing. Data-collection methods must be identified and justified; data must be recorded; data must be presented in multiple forms—tables, graphs and charts; said tables, graphs and charts must be interpreted; blah, blah, blah. A past-student’s paper was brought to class and given as an example: turn to his data, and he had constructed a line graph of four different criteria, all on the same graph. It looked as if he had drawn a histogram, drawn dots in the centre of the top of each bar, erased the histogram and connected the dots. Nonetheless, he had been given a passing grade.
Got distacted; no more to type.
Monday, November 3, 2008
I've been changing quite a bit in these last few months. It started with this blog--determining that what was going on in my head was worth other people seeing it, then gradually doing small things along the way until i dropped the face, and was vocal and proud of what i thought.
But i never foresaw that people would appreciate it. My thoughts. Weird
But i never foresaw that people would appreciate it. My thoughts. Weird
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Just type, man, just type.
See? I wrote a title today, one that--I hope-- sums up the mood of this passage.
HAHAHA!!! What a load of bollocks!! The sound there is distinctly T&T's version of education. You know what I mean; the product of a BY-product of the "education" (read: taming) of the slaves by the white guys, that is mercilessly squezzed and molded by such ignorance as to render it even less recognisable than education than "teaching" religion to those damned slaves. Parents send their children to such "institutions" in the morning and make sure that they come back out with and "education", that is, they must be able to spell, understand rudimentary math, learn priceless poetry off by heart and all sorts of other rubbish that I cannot bear to think of. Do the children come back with a sense of pride in themselves? A great appreciation of the pervasiveness of maths? A tingling from just discovering shakespeare? NO! I have seen Macbeth MURDERED by a droning, emotionlesss voice, ignorant of puntuation and metre. But was this the student's fault? Absolutely not! It was a product of years of getting full marks for just learning which work went in frontof which, and not one bit of macbeth's and Shakespeare's history was ever addressed in class. How could you expect him to appreciate anything?
HAHAHA!!! What a load of bollocks!! The sound there is distinctly T&T's version of education. You know what I mean; the product of a BY-product of the "education" (read: taming) of the slaves by the white guys, that is mercilessly squezzed and molded by such ignorance as to render it even less recognisable than education than "teaching" religion to those damned slaves. Parents send their children to such "institutions" in the morning and make sure that they come back out with and "education", that is, they must be able to spell, understand rudimentary math, learn priceless poetry off by heart and all sorts of other rubbish that I cannot bear to think of. Do the children come back with a sense of pride in themselves? A great appreciation of the pervasiveness of maths? A tingling from just discovering shakespeare? NO! I have seen Macbeth MURDERED by a droning, emotionlesss voice, ignorant of puntuation and metre. But was this the student's fault? Absolutely not! It was a product of years of getting full marks for just learning which work went in frontof which, and not one bit of macbeth's and Shakespeare's history was ever addressed in class. How could you expect him to appreciate anything?
Friday, August 8, 2008
Ok, well, on the flight to Miami, I took a notebook and made little jottings all the way. So, I have a few annoencements to make: this is loooking like my last trip to America, or at least Miami to see my grandmother; and I am going to start spreading the word about my blog. Why, you ask? Answer one: this tme around the flight was uncomfortable, immigration was hell and this place has no appeal to me anymore. Answer two: I was worried about people being subjects in my blog and being offended ang not liking me anymore, but I have decided to use pseudonyms and not care: Problem solved.
But I have been thinking quite a bit--I know its unhealthy, I know-- and it rally bothered me that this blog is really far from that grand thing that I dreamed it to be, full of really probing, intriguing writing. I'm serious; this is the tippest of the iceberg compared to what is going on in my mind. And so, I mulled. And scratched my head. And really, really tried hard to figure it out. And it came: I think when I have conversation. Conversation is the key; it draws out, it causes one to think first before speaking, it is the fertile bed from which seeds grow strong and tall. And this blog is a soliloquoy. STEUPS!!!!!!!
The result of all this thought: a name change and a goal change. I really like the way that this blog evolves.
But I have been thinking quite a bit--I know its unhealthy, I know-- and it rally bothered me that this blog is really far from that grand thing that I dreamed it to be, full of really probing, intriguing writing. I'm serious; this is the tippest of the iceberg compared to what is going on in my mind. And so, I mulled. And scratched my head. And really, really tried hard to figure it out. And it came: I think when I have conversation. Conversation is the key; it draws out, it causes one to think first before speaking, it is the fertile bed from which seeds grow strong and tall. And this blog is a soliloquoy. STEUPS!!!!!!!
The result of all this thought: a name change and a goal change. I really like the way that this blog evolves.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
I'm tired and I've read some other blogs an have mulled on the fact that those blogs were genuinely entertaining and fun while my embryonic one is droopy and not at all fun to read. Also, those blogs had much longer, informative, soul-exposing posts, while mine are.... you know! ALSO, those blogs had pics while my blog is devoid of visual stimulation. So let me mull. And be tired even though I have finally reached that stage in my life where I can close my eyes and nap at any time of day. Trust me, I have been honing this new-found skill.
Let's all take a moment to acknowledge the fact that I am using a vocabulary much more expansive than my usual since the starting of this blog: "embryonic!!!". "mull!!'", "visual stimulation", "devoid"!!!!
b
Ignore that "b"; I was trying to turn off the italic and that's the result.
Now, what arises from the fact that I am using "big words" is this: are they too weighty?? Should i use them at all?? IS using them snooty?
more questions; I'm a little fed up
ps i'm going to florida tomorow with that fam.
Let's all take a moment to acknowledge the fact that I am using a vocabulary much more expansive than my usual since the starting of this blog: "embryonic!!!". "mull!!'", "visual stimulation", "devoid"!!!!
b
Ignore that "b"; I was trying to turn off the italic and that's the result.
Now, what arises from the fact that I am using "big words" is this: are they too weighty?? Should i use them at all?? IS using them snooty?
more questions; I'm a little fed up
ps i'm going to florida tomorow with that fam.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
YESTERDAY I WAS AT PARIA!! A HIKE INTO THE FOREST!! BITE ME!
Yes, Paria was beautiful, a little overcast, but beautiful. A lot happened on that hike, but first let me fill you in on something: I have decided to leave this blog open all day so that at any given moment I can just type what comes to my head; I think this will increase productivity! (I thought of this all by myself and I'm quite proud!)
Well, right now I'm listening to Lily Allen. Great music, great genius.
Well, something popped up in the hike environment, about me being too bossy and being an annoying know-it-all. Bear in mind all I was doing was ensuring that everyone followed proper safety procedures: keeping hydrated, replenishing electrolytes etc. I will concede that I was using quite an assive, authoritative tone of voice; bite me. To give a little background, there were four of us boys all between 18-16; two non-hikers and two experinced hikers. I, one of the experienced one was ticking off the other experienced one with my nagging. Gawd. Anyway this is it; should I harass just to be safe, or allow to each their own? Even if you think (or "know") what the right thing is?
Yes, Paria was beautiful, a little overcast, but beautiful. A lot happened on that hike, but first let me fill you in on something: I have decided to leave this blog open all day so that at any given moment I can just type what comes to my head; I think this will increase productivity! (I thought of this all by myself and I'm quite proud!)
Well, right now I'm listening to Lily Allen. Great music, great genius.
Well, something popped up in the hike environment, about me being too bossy and being an annoying know-it-all. Bear in mind all I was doing was ensuring that everyone followed proper safety procedures: keeping hydrated, replenishing electrolytes etc. I will concede that I was using quite an assive, authoritative tone of voice; bite me. To give a little background, there were four of us boys all between 18-16; two non-hikers and two experinced hikers. I, one of the experienced one was ticking off the other experienced one with my nagging. Gawd. Anyway this is it; should I harass just to be safe, or allow to each their own? Even if you think (or "know") what the right thing is?
Saturday, August 2, 2008
ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ok; I have no excuse, but then I have no one to answer to but myself. Which opens up a whole other messy can of beans. The only thing I can do is force myself to type, hoping that after a while juice will start flowing. Still waiting. Waiting. Waiting...
One thing I can think of, is that my father and i were talking about culture an attitude an how to change it. My view was that one should nudge people in the direction one wants them to go, poking, then watching for the reaction, always observing. Dad's view is that first you should draw awareness; show the people how their attitude or culture is not beneficial and that is adverselty affects those around them.
Reading that, I don't understand it. Sorry; I haven't put much thought into it at all.
I'm just tired.
One thing though: I think I want to turn this into a photo-blog and learn photography with a D-SLR camera.
One thing I can think of, is that my father and i were talking about culture an attitude an how to change it. My view was that one should nudge people in the direction one wants them to go, poking, then watching for the reaction, always observing. Dad's view is that first you should draw awareness; show the people how their attitude or culture is not beneficial and that is adverselty affects those around them.
Reading that, I don't understand it. Sorry; I haven't put much thought into it at all.
I'm just tired.
One thing though: I think I want to turn this into a photo-blog and learn photography with a D-SLR camera.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Day Two, and boy do I have alot to type--if I can remember all of it! I'll begin with this; yesterday I borrowed four DVD's for myself; The Godfather; Hannibal; Fight Club; and The Matrix Revolutions. None of them have been viewed before, but I have flipped through the first few pages of Fight Club once in a bookstore and I've read Hannibal. You should, just by reading the titles, realise that I was in for an experience. Not a mind-blowing one, mind you, let's just say mind bending.
Ok, enough foreplay, down to the meat: I've watched Fight Club and Hannibal and I'm in a daze. The usual daze, a little awestruck, shaken; I just pull back a little as I try to organise my thoughts into a workable order. I NEVER expected the schiznophrenia in Fight Club! It was really amazing! And the acting was top! The directing was too, a little loose points here and there, but I don't care; It was good!!! Now i really really really want to go back an buy the book.
Now, onto Hannibal; this time I tried my best to watch the movie as a movie and not to think of the book too much. I'm really sorry to all the Hopkins fans out there, but my vision on Dr. Lecter is a little more confident; Hopkins just isn't as terrifying as my imagined Hannibal. All in all, I like the movie; the director had a vision and saw it through. I would have prefered the ending in the book brought to life though, not the least of my reasons is that it would have been MUCH more sexy, but alas it was not to be.
One theme,that I know I knew before but have only just named, is the emotional detachment: I eat the rude. I like fine food. I like to be comfortable. No fluff about it. Done. I like that aspect, I really do like it quite a bit, enough to want to try it out sometime. Not the eating part though!
But, I think as a result of the two movies, I've had a eureka moment. I have found a question, the question! One that everyone knows a little too well for their own comfort because its always asked in hindsight. But it seems like a question everyone should be asking, all the time.
Ok, enough foreplay, down to the meat: I've watched Fight Club and Hannibal and I'm in a daze. The usual daze, a little awestruck, shaken; I just pull back a little as I try to organise my thoughts into a workable order. I NEVER expected the schiznophrenia in Fight Club! It was really amazing! And the acting was top! The directing was too, a little loose points here and there, but I don't care; It was good!!! Now i really really really want to go back an buy the book.
Now, onto Hannibal; this time I tried my best to watch the movie as a movie and not to think of the book too much. I'm really sorry to all the Hopkins fans out there, but my vision on Dr. Lecter is a little more confident; Hopkins just isn't as terrifying as my imagined Hannibal. All in all, I like the movie; the director had a vision and saw it through. I would have prefered the ending in the book brought to life though, not the least of my reasons is that it would have been MUCH more sexy, but alas it was not to be.
One theme,that I know I knew before but have only just named, is the emotional detachment: I eat the rude. I like fine food. I like to be comfortable. No fluff about it. Done. I like that aspect, I really do like it quite a bit, enough to want to try it out sometime. Not the eating part though!
But, I think as a result of the two movies, I've had a eureka moment. I have found a question, the question! One that everyone knows a little too well for their own comfort because its always asked in hindsight. But it seems like a question everyone should be asking, all the time.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
OK, ok, ok. I have not been faithful: I admit it. And so, as an act to show my repentance, I propose a great plan: for the next 7 days I will add a new post! For a whole week I will sit at this computer and type exactly whatever comes into my head. Yes: I will!
You see, I had a little problem before: I was worried about who I knew would read it, and what they would think, and how what I wrote would reflect upon me, and how some things are best left unsaid, and how disgraceful it would be for someone to discover another side of me from this blog and a whole set of other nonsense! Nonsense, I tell you! From now on: NO CENSORSHIP! Fuck it! Fuckity fuck fuck fuck fuck! Fuck the fuckest fuck shit! Argh!
Haha! I've always wondered why doing something "wrong" had always been liberating for me, especially when there is a chance I might get caught! At first, a little apprehension, then as I get in the swing of things, just letting loose, then a it starts to peeter out: the pointlessness of it starts to embarass. Well, not "pointlessness"; doing something just for the sake of doing it is not pointless is it? There is a point, its just that but its definitely not for a "greater" purpose, it does not lead up to anything: when its done, its done.
Oh, I nearly forgot! Something happened: a girls was showing a spark, analysing an questioning the weird stuff I put up on facebook and msn just for that purpose (to draw questions out; to instigate) but after a second barrage from me, she just reverted to the usual rubbish. I was SO hopeful! Maybe I shouldn't have been so enthusiastic. Whatever. And afterwards she just dismissed it as curiousity. Argh!!! I was so hopeful!
Well, that's it for now! On the morrow!
You see, I had a little problem before: I was worried about who I knew would read it, and what they would think, and how what I wrote would reflect upon me, and how some things are best left unsaid, and how disgraceful it would be for someone to discover another side of me from this blog and a whole set of other nonsense! Nonsense, I tell you! From now on: NO CENSORSHIP! Fuck it! Fuckity fuck fuck fuck fuck! Fuck the fuckest fuck shit! Argh!
Haha! I've always wondered why doing something "wrong" had always been liberating for me, especially when there is a chance I might get caught! At first, a little apprehension, then as I get in the swing of things, just letting loose, then a it starts to peeter out: the pointlessness of it starts to embarass. Well, not "pointlessness"; doing something just for the sake of doing it is not pointless is it? There is a point, its just that but its definitely not for a "greater" purpose, it does not lead up to anything: when its done, its done.
Oh, I nearly forgot! Something happened: a girls was showing a spark, analysing an questioning the weird stuff I put up on facebook and msn just for that purpose (to draw questions out; to instigate) but after a second barrage from me, she just reverted to the usual rubbish. I was SO hopeful! Maybe I shouldn't have been so enthusiastic. Whatever. And afterwards she just dismissed it as curiousity. Argh!!! I was so hopeful!
Well, that's it for now! On the morrow!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
ARGGHH!!! I just wrote up a post, then i lost my internet connection an the laptop!!
Now I don't want to type what I just wrote again, so what do i do?
Well, I haven't been totally faithful to this blog; my last post was June 11th! I want to talk about all of it but its the having to change my thoughts into words and then type them is what is keeping me back. OK; here goes.
Spain won! YAY! Venus won! YAY! Nadal won! YAY!
I was very pleased with all three results, very pleased.
I also had fun at a party. Lots of fun. Lots and lots of fun. The party was good. To say the least! The kiss still lingers...
It was long and just good. Great.
And I had some great food. Pomegranate glazed quail stuffed with foie gras and portobello mushroom with a pineapple syrup an sherry vinaigrette. Chicken mousse with gerkin and glazed beetroot, all on toast. Sample of chokas, all perfect.
Okay, my fingers are tired: Ciao for now!
Now I don't want to type what I just wrote again, so what do i do?
Well, I haven't been totally faithful to this blog; my last post was June 11th! I want to talk about all of it but its the having to change my thoughts into words and then type them is what is keeping me back. OK; here goes.
Spain won! YAY! Venus won! YAY! Nadal won! YAY!
I was very pleased with all three results, very pleased.
I also had fun at a party. Lots of fun. Lots and lots of fun. The party was good. To say the least! The kiss still lingers...
It was long and just good. Great.
And I had some great food. Pomegranate glazed quail stuffed with foie gras and portobello mushroom with a pineapple syrup an sherry vinaigrette. Chicken mousse with gerkin and glazed beetroot, all on toast. Sample of chokas, all perfect.
Okay, my fingers are tired: Ciao for now!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Well, last night was fun I guess-- birthday party for a freind-- but what spoiled it was all these guys who were not invited but still came!!! And brought their freinds!! And asked for food!!!! WTF!!!!
Guys and their egos. I'm a guy and I do not behave like that!! They are the type that (1) make you ashamed of being a guy and (2) Make It hard for a genuine guy to get a good girl!! 'Cause by then the girls are disenchanted and think all men are a$$holes!!
Why do these guys have to behave this way??? WHY??
D party was good besides that though.
Guys and their egos. I'm a guy and I do not behave like that!! They are the type that (1) make you ashamed of being a guy and (2) Make It hard for a genuine guy to get a good girl!! 'Cause by then the girls are disenchanted and think all men are a$$holes!!
Why do these guys have to behave this way??? WHY??
D party was good besides that though.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
FIRST POST!!!!!!!!!!
Well, well, well: my first blog post.
Yay??
I don't really feel much about this blog thing yet, still wondering about what to say, and who will read and how much to say because of who will read. You should get the gist that I started this blog thing as i usually do: without a plan; on a vibe; just trying it out. Yeah, that's me. Who or whatever I am. Because sometimes I get this feeling of...... lemme not go there, not on the first day, that would be too much for me. Me again. Damn this bloggin thing.
Helpful tips and advice welcome.
Yay??
I don't really feel much about this blog thing yet, still wondering about what to say, and who will read and how much to say because of who will read. You should get the gist that I started this blog thing as i usually do: without a plan; on a vibe; just trying it out. Yeah, that's me. Who or whatever I am. Because sometimes I get this feeling of...... lemme not go there, not on the first day, that would be too much for me. Me again. Damn this bloggin thing.
Helpful tips and advice welcome.
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