Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Nevermind The Bollocks!
Sometimes I don’t have witty things to say (surprising, isn’t it?) and these are the times when I like to say random things. And that’s funny! No? It’s gotta be! The randomness of a statement contributes heavily to its humour quotient. Vectoresque, the two components of any statement are first, its intelligence and second, its relevance to the current subject. Simply adding the two together does not give you the funnitude of the quote. It’s a much more complex relationship between the two and each is worthless without the other. And yes, I already know “funnitude” is not a word, but I have the right. Or “rights”, whatever. Deal with it.“This morning I found the longest hair on my body!” Insert this as a follow up to anything anyone has ever said to you and then imagine their next words. Very low intelligence component and unless you’re in the habit of having interesting conversations with your barber, the statement does not even possess relevance.
And for those taking notes on icebreakers for their next party, Get Out, this is not a class.
Sheer absurdity is stimulating. Intellectually, that is. It’s not all that easy to be absurd. Words don’t jump out of your mouth unless there has been thought behind them, so the depth of absurdity that you scrape is inversely proportional to the thought that contributed to its creation. It’s easy to ask a question or give an answer or pass your opinion, but not easy to suddenly change direction to a tangent. There are always three directions to any response: the right one, the wrong one (which is the opposite of the right one; and now don’t tell me the opposite of right is actually left) and the irrelevant one.
Before you go any further, a word of caution. The things you have read here so far and everything you will continue to read for the next two or so minutes, will test your ability to explore how far you will let yourself go before walking hurriedly back to what is generally accepted as normal/not-crazy, while looking over your shoulder at the strange place you almost stepped into. And if you already think this is just some try-too-hard, pseudo-intellectual crap, then I must shake your hand. Exit this way. (Insert here: some sort of text symbol for a raised finger that comes after the index one)
By irrelevant I don’t mean answering a request to know the time with “Red”. That’s just stupid and/or insane. By irrelevant, I’m referring to a point that lies as far as possible from an expected response and at the same time, not totally opposite to it. The locus of these irrelevant points would form the circumference of a circle which is perpendicular to the circular plane on whose outer edges the best acceptable response and its opposite lie, with the centers of the two circular shapes coinciding at the exact same point. Thus, every irrelevant point is always equidistant from the two known extremes.
Having just read all that you may think that I’ve really spent some time thinking about the whole thing. On the other hand, you may think that I’ve either dropped anchor at the line between genius and insanity or allowed someone less talented than myself to do a post for me. But I will not consider the other hand. The truth is that it was all on the fly. In the time that it took me to type these last few sentences, I had the whole geometric view mapped out in my head. Exactly how absurd? This is the right kind of absurdity, not talking about goldfish bobbing for apples. Spouting randomly incoherent shit just because your brain is running dry doesn’t qualify.
Anyway, if you’ve understood one iota of what I’ve been going on about, many congratulations to you. It’s hard to find someone who will appreciate or even accept the creatively abnormal (creatively abnormal != lunatic pissing on his neighbour’s front door) without scoffing at its non-conformity with easily-understandable rules.
All through this post, I’ve pranced about in the realm of strange and not-normally-thought-about, uneasy abnormality, leaping through varying degrees of the awkward and absurd and now we’re back where we started from, shuffling into line behind that other guy who also lost his shoe while trying to fish his keys out of an overflowing storm drain.
Most people tend to dismiss any and all straying from the norm as incorrectness. If only they would take a little time to appreciate what they do not understand or at least try to understand what they cannot appreciate, I’d feel a whole lot better. And that’s bound to make all of you just so damn happy!
Michael Bublé – Home
Crowded House – Fall At Your Feet
1 Comments:
Vikthegreat, at 2:47 PM, August 27, 2006
Don't just stand there with your mouth open... say SOMETHING dammit!
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Smoky Breakfast Cereal
The more I listen to music, the more I diversify my tastes, digging deeper through the strata of time and tunes and the more I try and take it everywhere with me, the more I realize my dependence on the thing. I’m sure it’s not normal in some way that is properly abnormal. I don’t know if it’s still just me enjoying the entertainment or if it’s reached a level where it has become my protective cocoon, god and crystal ball all in one.I see ordinary people everyday, doing ordinary things and going about their ordinary business. What drives them? Is it the work? Friends? Lovers? Family? Money? Or is there something else that can drive you to go about your life without feeling the crushing weight of monotony and habit on your shoulders? I have no idea about this. Maybe it’s the same with everybody and maybe it isn’t. During school years, studies were the only thing that mattered. Anyway, those were small years and I was still a small person, so they can be neglected. The next few years were only about friends and losing them, before the tryst with song began. Now I can hardly remember what my life was like without music on my mind. One would think I’m some sort of musician by the way that I’m going on about all this, but I must urge you to believe that I can no more play a musical instrument than Vin Diesel can do a quarter mile in 10 seconds. And he can’t!
It’s more than frightening to think that although I often speak about how free I am, not tied down by the normal social restrictions that seem to bind most, I am being manipulated. By the music. My very attitude, my rules to live by, the kind of people that I’m attracted to; I would like to think that these have all been choices born of a free mind, but they haven’t. It’s like a vivid, never ending advertisement in my head with plenty of booze and a blonde in a bikini licking whipped cream off herself… in a boat. Buy the friggin’ boat!!! And I’m constantly buying it.
Without music, what have I got left? Blank, white, black… whatever you want to call the endless void. Life is pretty darn empty when the only things that take up your un-sleeping time are work and computer games (Women? Hah! Unreliable notion). But I do see a lot of people who live with that… and less. Which brings me back to my original point: How do they do it? How do you live through your days with your only driving force being the will to get along in the world?
There comes a time when you simply have to grow up and you need to get your kicks from everyday life, instead of depending on drink and heavy metal.
I haven’t reached that time yet, I think, so for now I will just have to be content knowing that I’m secretly not as much in control as I’d like to be.
I’ve watched E! interviews just like anybody reading this post may have too, where every interviewee tries to be cute and/or witty and sometimes both. I don’t mind that people want to interview them, that’s forgivable, heck you can come and interview me and I wouldn’t complain much. But then they have to go and say something asinine like “I had a blast right through the filming!” Now why would they do that?! Are they trying to rub in the fact that they’re getting paid in wagons for nothing more than controlling their facial contortions? I didn’t buy a ticket to see you have fun asshole! That’s what I’m here for! Now let’s see some good old fashioned, hard acting… injuries on the set, strenuous workouts to get in shape, doing your own stunts. That’s what I paid to see, not some pussified bastard cavorting and giggling with the leading lady who by the way used a body double in scenes which required her to stand up on the back of a speeding motorcycle.
If you’re not going to inspire us with a show of dedication to your work, who else will we look to?
Earning merely a fraction of what you get isn’t nearly enough motivation y’know.
Three unwritten laws of the Indian road:
1. If there is a one way street, traffic will go the wrong way.
2. No matter how broken, no matter how choked, no matter how narrow a road is, it can always get worse.
3. If you give way to a lady, you’ll have to give way to the three men who squeeze in after her too.
There are many who will read this and go, “Well, duh!” To them I say, “Yes, but I posted it on my site first, so you just keep walking, bitch!”
1. If there is a one way street, traffic will go the wrong way.
2. No matter how broken, no matter how choked, no matter how narrow a road is, it can always get worse.
3. If you give way to a lady, you’ll have to give way to the three men who squeeze in after her too.
There are many who will read this and go, “Well, duh!” To them I say, “Yes, but I posted it on my site first, so you just keep walking, bitch!”
Zooey Deschanel is my new favourite cute thing. More than my new mp3 player even.
2 Comments:
interesting blog - I like the unwritten laws of the indian road!
Thanks, bud!
Don't just stand there with your mouth open... say SOMETHING dammit!
Monday, August 07, 2006
Fairytale. Not.
I know the premise of this one might sound really pathetic, but I’m thinking maybe it’s something a guy could relate to at least one time in his life.
She’s so warm, in my arms
I’ve never felt this feeling
And she touches my heart
I feel the old wounds healing.
We’ll walk, hand in hand
Along the moonlit miles
Her face is always in shadow
But I still can hear her smile
All along the moonlit mile
I still can hear her smile.
Tell me now if I’m in love
Or is this just a foolish dream?
Does she enter my world
Only when I make-believe?
But I can’t stop thinking about her
She’s so pretty, she seems
To glow in the candle light
And her laugh in my ear says
What’s on her mind tonight oh oh
Now she leans, deep into me
I feel her breath on my skin
Then she looks into my eyes
And I see her fire within
She breathes on my skin
And strokes the fire within.
I’m broken down on a road
I was never meant to be, on
I’m in love with a girl
And she’s only real to me
But I can’t stop thinking about her
No, I can’t stop thinking about her
She was more than a tease
Yes, she brought me to my knees
Never learned to read the signs
I’m a victim of my mind
‘Cos I can’t stop thinking about her.
She’s so perfect, she felt so right
But I’m so tired of thinking about her again tonight.
Tell me now if I’m in love
Or is this just a foolish dream?
Does she enter my world
Only when I make-believe?
Broken down on a road
It was never meant to be
I’m in love with a girl
And she’s only real to me
But I can’t stop thinking about her
No, I can’t stop thinking about her
Fountains of Wayne - Stacy's Mom
The Police - Roxanne
She’s so warm, in my arms
I’ve never felt this feeling
And she touches my heart
I feel the old wounds healing.
We’ll walk, hand in hand
Along the moonlit miles
Her face is always in shadow
But I still can hear her smile
All along the moonlit mile
I still can hear her smile.
Tell me now if I’m in love
Or is this just a foolish dream?
Does she enter my world
Only when I make-believe?
But I can’t stop thinking about her
She’s so pretty, she seems
To glow in the candle light
And her laugh in my ear says
What’s on her mind tonight oh oh
Now she leans, deep into me
I feel her breath on my skin
Then she looks into my eyes
And I see her fire within
She breathes on my skin
And strokes the fire within.
I’m broken down on a road
I was never meant to be, on
I’m in love with a girl
And she’s only real to me
But I can’t stop thinking about her
No, I can’t stop thinking about her
She was more than a tease
Yes, she brought me to my knees
Never learned to read the signs
I’m a victim of my mind
‘Cos I can’t stop thinking about her.
She’s so perfect, she felt so right
But I’m so tired of thinking about her again tonight.
Tell me now if I’m in love
Or is this just a foolish dream?
Does she enter my world
Only when I make-believe?
Broken down on a road
It was never meant to be
I’m in love with a girl
And she’s only real to me
But I can’t stop thinking about her
No, I can’t stop thinking about her
Fountains of Wayne - Stacy's Mom
The Police - Roxanne
2 Comments:
I'm a little confused... did you write this or is it a song?
either ways its good..
cheers..
:D
either ways its good..
cheers..
:D
bjorn...u wrote this?? i m reading this late....but i must say i m shocked....i dont believe u writing this....
its awesome man! unbelievable. impressed!
-Sukanti
its awesome man! unbelievable. impressed!
-Sukanti
Don't just stand there with your mouth open... say SOMETHING dammit!
dude have you ever thought of advertising as a career? trust me i have been in it for a few months now and i think you would be great. you write well.
also how about mailing me and telling me what you're up to these days?