June 11, 2011

Happy Birthday to ME !!


Today has been a fantastic build-up to a birthday. Multiple good news throughout the day really made me feel like God was giving me my birthday presents a day in advance. I know that I continue to be the blessed man that I have always been. :)

A warm thank you to all the folks who have wished or are wishing me right now or will wish me within the next 24 hours! I love you all!! (Yeah, even the ones I hate.. :P)

Luv-n-luck,
Av

June 10, 2011

An interesting twist to FRIDAY !

Roaming around in cyber-space, I just ran into something extremely intriguing. And what better day than today, to publish this?

THE SONG


THE ANALYSIS (unedited, NOT mine)

Rebecca Black’s song Friday is a work of unparalleled genius. Of course you retards don't see it you may never see it but I'm telling the truth. This is not a troll or whatever the kick you think it is. No. This song and its accompanying video represent one of the greatest works of musical art I've ever seen. ranking right alongside anything Radiohead. Neutral Milk Hotel etc has ever done.

Why do I say this? Because underneath its bubbly. faux-happy surface is a seething cauldron of existential dread and despair. You've all missed the forest for the trees, and while you've been busy mocking it you've missed its brilliance. So let me take you through the video step by step and maybe at least a couple of you will begin to see.

Remember that these are just my own observations. after only a few viewings: this video is so multi-layered that unraveling its symbolism and meaning would take years of careful examination

We open with a production card and some building synths. As the music continues. we see a sort of calendar with flipping pages. Before we get to the lyrics. there's a couple things in this sequence worth pointing out. because they set the tone for the rest of the video and establish its overarching motifs.

Firstly. Black appears here as a hideous moving drawing on the pages. moaning "yeah. yeah" in robotic. auto-tuned cadence. This startling image of the singer — and her voice -- both lie snugly in the very nadir of the uncanny valley. Ostensibly we are looking at a human. but it isn't close enough to what we recognize as human to inspire anything other than revulsion.

I think the director was trying to create a vision of the ''hyperreal" here. Like a sports drink with a flavor such as "blue mountain ice berry" that doesn't exist in nature. Black is a simulacra of something that never existed in the first place. Like so many American teens. she is attempting to live up to an ideal that's impossible to attain — outwardly succeeding in many respects. but never achieving self-actualization in any meaningful way. always feeling like an imposter. mired in a cycle of materialism and futile competition that serves no purpose She doesn't feel "rear and so in these opening frames she is presented as just that: an unreal monster. a horrible. ugly outside creation. 

The artificiality of the music itself plays into this theme as well — I don't think there's a single real instrument in the entire song

Secondly on the pages of the calendar we see some words that we are supposed to assume Black wrote there. On the page for Thursday, she has written "I am Thursday's Child. :(" This is a very clever reference to a nursery rhyme that ascribes personality traits to people born on certain days of the week. The line for Thursday reads, 'Thursdays child has far to go."

There are multiple things going on here. As a young girl Black has far to go before reaching adulthood and the (largely mythical) freedoms she ascribes to it. She also has 'far to go' before she can accept herself for who she is. 

She has 'far to go` before she can be the person everyone around her expects her to be -- very. very far -- and she will never get there. These are the main conflicts that are present throughout the song.

Finally, the lyrics start. The monstrous drawing of Black gives way to the flesh-and-blood Black, just waking up with her alarm clock. Her eyes snap open and she starts out of bed instantly, almost mechanically.

>7 AM waking up in the morning >Gotta be fresh gotta go downstairs 'Gotta have my bowl
>Gotta have cereal
Gotta She has no choice. She HAS to do these things As Black sings these lines, she gives a disdainful look to her alarm, obviously wishing she could sleep some more. but dutifully she throws her covers off (does this represent her urge to throw off the comforting but ultimately cloying shackles of childhood? Perhaps.) and we cut to her standing downstairs, dressed and ready to go, where she finishes the verse.
In the downstairs section she stands stone-still. her facial features unmco,ing as she tells us that she must have a bowl of cereal. This is her routine- to break it would be a horrible transgression. And what exactly happens if she breaks her routine? Well. nothing -- but she doesn't know that and she's too terrified to find out. She wants freedom but she isn't strong enough to give it to herself

>Seeing everything
>The time is going. ticking on and on And everybody's rushing
Behind Black, her family goes through their own daily routine in fast-forward. No one has time anymore_ it seems to her, and by extension to the viewer. Everyone's day is firmly regimented planned out months in advance and there isn't any room to allow oneself a peaceful moment. For success we have traded in our very identities Black is disgusted with her family and more importantly with herself

>Gotta get down to the bus stop >Gotta catch my bus
More gottas. Again. Black has no choice in what she does with her time We cut to her at the bus stop where suddenly she notices something off-screen and gives a painfully faked smile: ei sea my inenda
Her smile isn't real. As the camera reveals her 'friends' pulling up in a late-model car neither are theirs She cannot stand these people. Like her they're imposters, trying to live up to some abstract version of what a perfect teenager should be. and she hates them for it. But on the other hand they are nothing less than a mirror into her own empty soul — all the more reason to despise them

>Kicking in the front seat >Sitting in the back seat >Gotta make my mind up >Which seat can I take'
A verse absolutely pregnant with meaning. It's gotten a lot of derision. and that's a shame because it's one of the great little moments in this song.

Black surmises the car. Her friends are motioning for her to join them. Why would she do that instead of taking the bus? It's obvious that her friends aren't going to school today. And as she looks at them she realizes that she has to make up her mind: will she continue the daily routine that has become her own personal prison, or will she break free. skip school and taste independence?

Which seat can she take? Will she sit in the back, a passive bystander to her own life? Or will she sit in the front — wrest control of her own destiny and decide for herself what she wants to do?

>It's Friday. Friday
>Gotta get down on Friday
We cut to Black in the car with her friends. But she's in the back After all that turmoil, she's still a slave to others, doing not what she wants, but what is suggested to her by her peers. She may have rebelled against the tyranny of schooling but she's still imprisoned and acting without will
"Gotta get down on Friday? Not 'wanna get down on Friday: or "gonna get down on Friday: or any of a number of lines that may have worked Its another -gotta? She is as much under the control of society as ever. In fact, her minor rebellion may itself be part of the act she's been putting on her whole life. What teenager doesn't skip school?

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend
>Partying. partying. yeah! >Partying. partying. yeah! >Fun, fun. hin
>Looking forward to the weekend
Horrible. No one in the car is happy. They bob their heads and smile through gritted teeth as they lie about how much fun they're having, but they all look so desperate, so pained. They look OLD. like world-weary soldiers. Their refrains of 'yeah' are delivered with unenthusiastic fist pumps. the veil on their false joy wearing alarmingly thin. 

Black chants 'fun, fun, fun' not like someone who is enjoying themselves but like a Nazi in a concentration camp. She is ordering herself to have fun, as if simply saying the words will make it so. But its not so. and she knows it This isn't fun. This is hell.

>7.45. we're driving on the highway >Crusing so fast,
>I want time to fly
12 hours have passed in an instant. We cut to Black in a completely different car. wearing a completely different outfit with a completely different group of people What happened in the interim? That's left to the viewer's imagination but there is some imagery here that strongly implies Black lost her virginity at some point in the time gap.

Firstly, all the people in her company are noticeably older than the original group of friends She is with adults now, not children This suggests that she too is an adult she has stepped into womanhood.
Secondly in the morning she was wearing a bright purple shirt. symbolic of youth and innocence. Now she wears all black, symbolic of impurity -- and mourning. She has lost her innocence- and she regrets it The car, too. has gone from white to black — pure to impure.

Whatever the case. it's clear Black has had quite the day. But still she sits in the back seat — through it all. she is still not in control.

Why does she vvant time to fly? Isn't she having 'fun. in fun'? Of course not This has been the worst day of her short life and she wants it to be over as soon as possible. This is probably the only time she directly betrays her true emotions in the entire song. Her self-loathing over giving up her virginity — and over myriad other things — bubbles to the surface in that fleeting instant before she tamps it all back down again and continues the pathetic charade of enjoying herself

,Fun fun >Think about fun

Again. ordering herself to have fun. This is reminiscent of lie back and think about England,' the advice given to Victorian-era brides on how to deal with being raped by their husbands. Was her loss of virginity willing? Or did she 'grin and bear it' as part of the ritual she felt she had to endure to cross the rubicon into adulthood?
Now that she has crossed that rubicon. and nothing has changed. she is deeply ashamed Yet still she lies to herself, still she pretends to be having fun.

,You know what it IS'
>I gat this. you got this >My friend is by my right >I gat this. you got this >Now you know it

She smiles, but her eyes tell a different story. They're pleading with you to understand her, her plight. She wants you to understand why she's done this. and to forgive her. But she really wants something else. She wants to forgive herself of what has happened today.
Maybe she never will.

>Kicking in the front seat >Sitting in the back seat 'Gotta make my mind up 'Which seat can I take?
We come full circle. She knows that to become a truly free agent she will have to disavow her false friends and live for herself Will she be able to take this step? Will she summon the courage to strike out on her own? Immediately she answers for herself: she hugs her two 'friends' closer. She isn't ready to be her own person yet Not even the loss of her innocence could imbue her with the courage to move forward. She will be a slave to others for the foreseeable future.

>It's Friday, Friday
'Gotta get down on Friday
'Everybody's looking forward to the weekend, weekend
Black arrives at a party and waves to a boy about her age. He glances salaciously at her backside — perhaps this is the boy who took her virginity? The party is outdoors and it's pitch black except for the headlights from the cars there. Without her friends. without her peers Black would be in dark_ completely lost. The meaning is obvious.
Again, she's -gotta ° get down. The line has now acquired a disturbing sexual connotation given what has transpired, but its basic meaning is essentially the same.

-Friday Frets.
>Getting down an Friday
Watch closely here, this is around 1:50. Her smile completely drops for an instant as she says the second line. She hates herself

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend
The boy from before walks up behind Black and makes an inappropriate sexually-charged grab at her. She swirls around in shock. but then fakes a smile at him. She cannot bring herself to admit how disgusting she finds him.

>Partying. partying yeah' >Partying. partying. yeah! >Fun, fun. fun
>Loolong forward to the weekend
Black walks backwards here. It's easy to read into that. She's not improving herself, but regressing. For all her bluster and pretending. she's worse off tonight than she was this morning. More of her false friends make unconvincing fist pumps. Once again, no one is happy.

'Yesterday was Thursday. Thursday 'Today it is Friday, Friday
We see Black again as the drawing-monster from the beginning. She recites the progression of the days of the week. 

Yesterday was Thursday, today is Friday. This transformation and these lyrics validate the suggestion that her rebellions today have been nothing more than yet another piece in the larger act she's been putting on. of being the perfect teenager. The days of the week are set in stone. they always come in the same order. And Black's rebelliousness was equally predictable. It wasn't spontaneous at all.

>We, we, we so excited
'We so excited
'We gonna have a ball today
Black talks in broken English, but it's just an affectation, like everything she's done today. Talking like a stereotypical 'urban" (read: black) person is supposed to be °edgy " for this young white suburban girl, but it's not edgy if everyone in her peer group is doing it. just fired and cliched She's no bohemian or free-thinker or even common punk. she's a mindless drone doing what all the others do.

>Tomorrow is Saturday
And Sunday comes afterwards
The predictability of her actions are again hammered home as Black is shown directly turning from the moving drawing into her real life counterpart. The drawing-monster and Black are the same entity: a horrendous, unreal abomination, revolting yet pitiable.
.dorit want this weekend to end
But she does. She trembles with this lie and has to say it with an open-mouthed gape, as if forcing it out of herself. 

How long can she go on like this before she cracks?

>RB Rebecca Black
>So chillin' in the front side
A grown man begins to rap. cutting into Rebecca's lyrics (symbolizing her powerlessness?) He calls her by name, then looks down at his crotch as he says the second line. More sexual connotations abound. Has this adult man victimized the young Black?

>In the backseat ›I'm drrving cruising
These lines have caused confusion. but it makes sense if you consider 'So chillin' in the front side, in the backseat' to refer to Black. and -I'm driving, cruising' as referring to himself. He's having sex with her (Black is 'so chillin' in the front sides ie being penetrated). but largely against her will (she is still in the back seat) Rather. 

HE is the one in control — HE is in the front seat. driving 'Cruising" here takes on its sexual meaning as well as its more literal one -- he is cruising for underaged girls to abuse

>Fast lanes. sratching lanes >With a car on my side
>Passing by is a school bus >In front of me
>Makes me tick tack. tick lock >VVanna scream
Chilling. This man is a pedophile and the children aboard the school bus arouse him. But let's look closer. The fact that they're on a school bus is very meaningful indeed. Because if Black had followed her usual routine and gone to school, had failed to rebel — she may still have not escaped the fate that befell her tonight. Eventually she would have been sullied by the horrors of the adult world. For her, there is no escape, and there can never be

'Check my time. it's Friday
>It's a weekend
'We gonna have fun 'Come on. come on
The man looks in the rearview mirror but the position of the camera makes it appear as if he's looking directly at the viewer. And he says we gonna have fun: not "I'm gonna have fun.' This is an accusation, a recrimination. We are all complicit in the crimes this man commits. By forcing the image of perfection upon young girls. by sexualizing them, by turning a blind eye to their cries for help. WE are responsible for the -fun' this man has. We are no better than him.

>It's Friday. Friday
>Gotta get down on Friday
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend weekend >Friday. Friday
>Getting down an Friday
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend

We cut back to Black performing in front of a large crowd. This is really what she's been doing her entire life. of course: performing. None of them seem that interested even as she sways and smiles and shouts about how great everything is What's more. we continually see cuts to Black standing alone in a bizarre darkened room full of strange glowing smoke. where she moans in protest — at one point (around 2:55) yelling out "n00000" as the Black performing in front of an audience announces that everyone is looking forward to the weekend.

This is Black's inner dialogue_ and likely it's been going on for the entirety of the day — this is just our glimpse at it. Outwardly_ she's happy and ebullient but in her mind she's shouting out in horrible pain trapped in a fevered hellscape of her own creation

>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend >Partying. partying. yeah!
>Partying. partying. yeah!
>Fun. fun. km
>Looking forward to the weekend
>It's Friday. Friday
>Gotta get down an Friday
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend. weekend >Friday, Friday
>Getting down on Friday
'Everybody's looking forward to the weekend
As the song draws to a close, we cut back and forth like this — the projection Black gives of herself and the torment within. Finally her inner self isn't even attempting to speak intelligibly. instead just yelling as loud as she can. 

eyes wrenched closed. fists balled up. But in the real world she forges on singing and dancing for the crowd_ and the pedophile from before looks on approvingly his prey's spirit fully broken.

And when she stops singing, she looks down at everyone before her embarrassed, disgusted_ kill of nothing but despair. 

Now that her performance is done. the crowd will disperse and forget about her and for everything she's endured she will have gained nothing. She has literally become the -poor player that struts and frets her hour upon the stage.' 

She has realized that her life is a futile mockery of real happiness a hollow. meaningless simulation.
As Black's day draws to a close, she has stared into the abyss -- and the abyss has stared back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One might be tempted to cursorily dismiss this is some kinda over-the-top analysis, and maybe it partially is, but parts of it sure made me go "Holy crap! I didn't notice that before!"
What do you think?? Is it really a song about existential crisis??

Luv-n-luck,
Av

May 10, 2011

Tere Bin Laden....

Disclaimer: People incapable of impartially reading something without getting their opinions in the way are encouraged to NOT READ the following. Any angered/impassioned lambasting of my existence shall be met with the rudest retorts that my meandering mind can generate. Whether or not it coincides with yours, you can NOT boo me for having an opinion!
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the last few days since Osama Bin Laden was killed, I have been debating with myself whether I really want to write and publish this blogpost. I was not sure if my own thoughts were clear enough and whether such blatant opinions need to be made public at all. Today, I read something that convinced me I should. So here goes..


THE CONFESSION

I have never really hated Osama Bin Laden. Since I saw the live footage of the WTC twin towers and Pentagon burning, to this very moment, I have never felt that surge of anger that a lot of people feel or have felt against him at some point of time. I could never see 'evil' on his face. I could never bring myself to blindly believe all the labels and adjectives that were attributed to him. If anything, I almost admired Osama Bin Laden. I always thought that born under better circumstances, he would have made such a great scientist, sociologist or philosopher. There's good reason why I say so. While my opinion about his motives and the means of accomplishing them has wavered over time, there was and is no denying the tremendous genius of the man who stood right in the face of 'the greatest nation on earth'. The ten years gone by during which the US relentlessly pursued him and yet ended up with just dead ends have only served to prove this. I have often wondered how he managed to walk with titanium balls that big.

The above sentiments apart, unlike so many people in so many parts of the world, I am still in no mood to celebrate Osama Bin Laden's death, for multiple reasons:

THE ARGUMENT

1) What's glorious about the willful killing of a fellow human being, no matter who they are and what they did?

2) Its all a big game of perception management. In the media, we are mostly fed only one side of the story, which follows the golden rule: 'He who has the gold makes the rules!'. But sitting in the cozy safety of our homes, its genuinely difficult to appreciate what the people in some other part of the world are really facing on a daily basis. Try listening to this:


Makes 'One man's terrorist is another man's martyr' make some sense, doesn't it?

3) As the real happenings of 'Operation Geronimo' emerge as the White House 'revises' several key details, it is becoming increasingly clear that this was a planned political assassination. No attempt was made to capture the target alive. Keep in mind that there was no 'firefight', as Osama Bin Laden was unarmed, and also that he did not use any woman as a human shield. Obama's speech was just perception management eyewash.

4) The entire operation also stands in multiple breach of elementary norms of international law. Whats there to celebrate about the blatant breach of the sovereignty of any country by another? And who's to say that this will not happen to mine in the future? The US will undoubtedly get away with it too, simply because there IS no one to stand up to them. The disbalance of power only makes me worried, not gleeful.

The following assume the Osama was 'evil':

5) The vengeful repercussions of Osama's killing are bound to show up sooner or later, and your guess is just as good as mine as to what form they will show up in. Given the brilliant mind that he was, I'm willing to bet that he'd already chalked out a plan of action to be followed post his death.

6) Osama managed to pull the US into a dead-end ground war on multiple fronts, which cost thousands of lives and trillions of dollars. The hits taken by the US economy ever since George W. Bush declared a 'war on terrorism' show that it is a pyrrhic victory for the US, if at all a victory. Now with the death of Osama, the americans feel a sense of closure, and the war between the most powerful country in the world and a handful of terrorists, after ten years, can only truthfully be said to have ended on a draw. Really seems like a victory for Osama, if you ask me.

7) For a while now, Osama was being seen as more and more of a symbolic figurehead representing the multi-pronged extremism across the globe, with minimal direct operational command of Al Qaida. The world's most wanted and most dangerous terrorist, captured alive and kept rotting in a jail would have been symbolic victory to the US. The US could not have gifted a more 'glorious' and 'inspirational' end to Osama by killing him and making him a martyr dying for his cause.


And in closing, a quote from Noam Chomsky: "If this world believes in the Nuremberg Principles on which the Nazis were taken to trial for its crime against humanity through their tyranny post-world war II, all American presidents should be taken to trial  following the same principles."

Tell me what you think.

Luv-n-luck,
Av

May 7, 2011

POPS !

Learn to live in the moment, they say. Without being weighed down by your past, or being pulled too fast by your future. Every once in a while, I have a moment in my life, which seems to have more life in the moment than usual. While the feelings possibly experienced in such moments encompass the full spectrum of human emotions, I believe what is common is that they irreversibly change the way you look at something. Such moments tend to stick out in your memory like bookmarks in your life. I call such moments Points Of Paradigm Shift, or POPS. Quite the appropriate onomatopoeia, eh?

So this is a song about a moment in time, when on a relatively secluded beach in Konkan, albeit in unthoughtful jest, I was down on one knee, holding a fused light-bulb and looking into eyes that were suddenly filled with a haunting blend of unexpected emotions.

LIGHT OF MY LIFE

I've never been the kind
Who go around searching for love
I've never believed love's blind
Or that happiness comes from above..

I've never believed in fate
Or that destiny is real
And all this talk of a soul-mate
Has always felt so surreal..

All my life, I've lived an illusion
And never dared to face my fears..
But I've broken free of this delusion
In this moment with you, right here...

Now I'm on my knees
And I can suddenly see things right
I'm begging baby, please
Say, you'll be the light... of my life...


Much as I would love to, I can't really elucidate upon 'see things right'. Not as a matter of intent, but as a matter of ability. Someday, I hope to be able to write in words expressive enough to really encompass the beauty of the moment and the depth of the realizations within it. Maybe then, I could call it an apology. From naiveté to hurt feelings.

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

April 1, 2011

Laziness is in our genes! Or is it??

My primary motivation to go out and meet interesting people and talk to them is not limited to just what they have to offer to me as fully formed opinions in terms of intellectual exchange. While that is surely unique, a few days back I re-discovered, to my pleasant surprise, that the real dark horse of the interaction is the tangential thought process which the other person's thoughts trigger off in your own head. Now this particular conversation was about Global Warming, and here is the outcome, about Evolutionary Bio-psychology! Yes, I just made that word up.. :P
Anyway, here goes:

Where does Laziness come from?
They say a new-born baby is like a clean slate, and the first few hours and years of experience will mould the human being that they will be for their whole life ahead. Some people say the experience starts with conception, or as I like to call it, biological birth. Do we really learn EVERYTHING after we are born? Or is it possible that we hold something within us that comes from even BEFORE biological birth?? For example, its anybody's guess who/what teaches the baby to swim around or kick while in the mother's womb, or breathe after physiological birth.

Emotions are one thing precariously perched on the fence between numerous fields of research. So is instinct. A sceptic's view (read, MINE) begs the question: where do we pick up laziness??


For a moment, turn the clocks in your head backwards to a prehistoric point in time, long before human had trifle chores (such as blogging). The priority of the day was evolving into complete humans in the first place! One can easily see that there were two basic things that a prehistoric average guy on the (yet-to-be-invented) street would be concerned about, just like every other organism around him:

a. To survive
b. To replicate

Makes for a pretty short to-do list, doesn't it? What wouldn't I give for a situation like that. But I digress..

No matter what lofty goals humankind was chasing, surviving was and is obviously step numero uno. I'm pretty sure that just like modern society, endeavours directed in the direction of accomplishing 'task b' often caused the candidate to fail in accomplishing 'task a' !  Now consider the woolly mammoth and the sabre-toothed tiger competing with the girlfriend's father for shelf-space on the Rack of Mortal Dangers, and its obvious that EVERYTHING our protagonist would do would be basically directed towards survival at some level.

The point I am trying to make, in my admittedly laborious and tangential fashion, is that over a period of time, humans isolated and inculcated a set of behaviours and abilities which helped them accomplish these tasks. Complicated processes such as formation of society and hierarchy of social structure, development of languages, arts and indeed all science and technology have their roots back in this simple necessity. To survive.

Next, look at the basest necessity to survive. Energy. HUMAN Energy. Energy derived from the food we eat, but more importantly, energy saved by NOT exerting oneself. These are both two sides of the same coin, and are ingrained into the basest instinct. A lion knows that it must not over-exert itself in a chase when it looks like the deer's got a new pair of Reebok runners, simply because it will be too tired for the next chase, which it must anyway run if it wants to feed. Ergo, it should come as no surprise that man, with his developed (developing?) brain not only understood this at a gut level, but also found ways and means to proactively implement energy-saving strategies. Social hierarchy, barter trade, the discovery of fire, the invention of the wheel etc., are all means to this end. Some of these means are a way of utilizing another human's energy, while others are means of compensating human energy with another form of energy. This is a crucial difference, as expending someone else's energy to get your job done has the additional benefit of increasing your chances of survival against theirs.

Watch natural selection and human development stroll hand in hand on the beach of time for just a few thousand years, and the tendency to conserve human energy has already been hardwired into the human DNA irreversibly. This has simply occurred because the folks that managed to conserve their energy are the only ones that survived and replicated! Zoom in on the process and you see the drivers of technological advancement gradually metamorphose from the necessity of saving energy to the luxury of saving energy.  Technology has bestowed man with powers far beyond the ones that could have evolved through a natural process. While flying in the sky or crawling on the ocean floor, the impetus is still on minimizing the human exertion. Minimizing the energy loss during a task that is anyway beyond natural human physical capabilities!

Wind the clocks back to the present day, and we have a natural tendency to not exert ourselves, and use sources of energy other than humans, without realizing that we are, at an instinct level, only saving our energies to run away from this sabre-toothed grin, which by the way hasn't been seen for a while now!
Anybody who doubts what I call 'DNA-hardwiring', or the ability of evolution to influence the actions of a  species should do good to think why a domesticated dog sleeping on a rug will turn round a few times before settling in, just like its brethren in the wild. :)

What do you think? Tell me!

Luv-n-Luck,
Av

March 15, 2011

Don't give up on me, I won't give up on you...



Michael Franti - Hey World (Don't give up)

tell me why the grass was greener
years ago
I swear it used to grow here
but no more here

tell me why
on this hill
all the birds they used to come to fly here
come to die here

and tell my why i need to know
sometimes i wish i didn't have to know
all you show me

hey world
what you say
should i stick around for another day or two
don't give up on me
i won't give up on you
just believe in me like i believe in

tell me why on the corner
all the kids that used to come to run here
load the guns here


and tell me why
it's okay
to kill in the name of the gods we pray
tell me who said it's okay
to die in the name of the lies we say


tell me why there's child soldiers
tell me why they closed the borders
tell me how to fight disease
and tell me now won't you please

the only thing i want to do
is to be in the arms of someone who believes in me
like i believe in you
i try try try try
i try try try try for you
don't give up on me
and i cry cry cry cry
i cry cry cry cry for you
just believe in me
like i believe in you

March 8, 2011

Of Chapters and Discontinuities...


Hi All,

It has been 558 days since I last posted something here, and after gargantuan measures of procrastination spread throughout those 558 days, as I finally sit here to write a fresh blogpost, I am fixated upon the concept of continuity.

In the chapters of a book, the author strives to maintain a delicate thread of continuity (or atleast context) to string together the whole piece of writing. As I think about what to write, I realize that although this is like the 2nd chapter of my blogging endeavours, there can be no continuity.

There can be no continuity, simply because the person who wrote the last blogpost and the person writing this blogpost are separated by a discontinuity in time, wide enough to ensure that there is but very little common ground between the two. The schizm between me and me is emotional, intellectual, experiential, and attitudinal. However, like an Alistair MacLean novel, I hope that the successive but apparently unrelated chapters shall converge to a singularity as the novel of my blogging adventure progresses.

So what do I write about? See the next blogpost for that!!

Love-n-Luck,
Av