Saturday, May 25, 2013

Psychosocial

“Do we even know who we are?
Living like all life is forfeit?
Like we could just go redefine it, regardless what we broke?”
Poets of the Fall

So, this time last week I had finished reading a book called “The Fountainhead” written by Ayn Rand. It was one of the most interesting books I had read. It was also by far the most out of the box one I had read. For those of you who haven’t read it, let me tell you just this much- it’s about a man called Howard Roark and what he makes of his life as an architect. It’s basically the story of Howard Roark, architect. At the start of the book, in an interview with the Dean of his college, Roark merely asks why it is that they are encouraged to make copies of buildings made of wood in marble and then follow that up by copies of the marble buildings in steel and concrete. He wants to know where the originality is in the architecture he is being taught here. Roark ends up being expelled. Throughout the book, Howard Roark is criticized for trying to be original, for trying to give a building more than just an exoskeleton, for trying to give it a soul.
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This got me thinking. Clearly, I was reading about a man who had reached the zenith of his chosen profession. Not only did he understand the principles of architecture but also the purpose of it, the meaning of it. He also wanted to build on those principles, to create something new. By wanting to do that, the entire society he lived in regarded Roark as a threat. They thought he was a freak. They felt he was a criminal.

Where have we heard this story before? Let us look at Socrates. His only crime was he was a homosexual. Leonardo Da Vinci, one of the most brilliant minds of the century, was shunned. Vincent Van Gogh, who is one of the greatest painters in the world, could not sell a single one in his entire life. His paintings are now sold in the millions. Galileo was drawn and quartered for suggesting and later proving that the Earth revolved around the Sun and not the other way around. Because of that breakthrough, so many eons ago, we are able to explore the realms of space today, sending men to the Moon, and rovers to map out Mars.

Doesn’t this strike you as funny? I mean, from day one we are encouraged to set a high target for ourselves, to live by one standard alone- that of perfection. We are pushed hard to get to the very peak of our ability. What happens once we do that? Society sticks a label on our heads, dubs us as freaks and walks off into the sunset. Is that what perfection is? A ticket to eternal snobbing from the world around us?
Of course not.

You see, the thing is very simple. Genius is something we cannot comprehend or appreciate. Genius knows the full range of application of a particular thing, and ensures that it is applied in that fashion. By that act alone the Genius, becomes not a man to be respected, but a threat that needs to be eliminated. A problem, that needs to be nipped in the bud. I guess what I am trying to say is that Society is full to the brim with one class and one class of people only- Hypocrites. They won’t hesitate to exploit you, then all they will do is abuse you. Push yourself they will say. Achieve. Once you do, you are a threat. This is what Ms Rand was trying to say through the book. No surprise then that the book is shunned.

Narrow minded, stupid hypocrites. That's what we share our planet with. Howard Roark realized this a long time ago. He still knew what he wanted to do, focused on it and devil may care about what the world outside thought. That’s the way I look at life. I am what I am, I might not know yet where I will end up, but I will try to use my intellect, instead of mugging up thousands of facts and going through the grinder. Because at the end of the day, as Bon Jovi put it so aptly, “It’s my life, it’s now or never, And I ain’t gonna live forever”.

The Bilge Master

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Why Don’t People Just Think?

So I just finished watching the unaired pilot of the serial “Sherlock”. I’m impressed. Not because a fool has taken awful liberties, infact committed sacrilege by even thinking of taking a classic by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and giving it his own, shall we say “modernized view”? you see there are some things that aren’t meant to be changed in any way shape or form whatsoever. William Shakespeare is one of those things. You can have a girl in jeans and a blazer playing Juliet or a man in a tweed coat re-enacting Macbeth, but you cannot have that man insert even a sentence of his own in even a single one of Macbeth’s speeches. Modernizing a classic should be done keeping the story, the dialog and the punctuation right down to the last full stop in place.
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Call me a purist. There’s no need to actually, because I AM a purist. While I was watching the episode the purist in me wanted to scream blue murder and there was one point where I considered shutting it off and deleting the rest of it from my PC. But I was curious to see it to the end, give it a chance. Now maybe I have forgotten my Holmes, as I read it a long time ago (and will read it again soon) but I do not recall Dr. Watson having a limp, nor do I remember his brother being alive. Last I checked, his brother was an alcoholic who had died a bachelor. Here however, he has a sister. In the book, Sherlock Holmes figures out these facts by looking at a key. Here the phone suffices. Watson was outraged in the book. He is impressed here.

That’s where I realized what this guy had done. He didn’t intend to modernize Sherlock Holmes at all. What I was seeing was in no way shape or form connected to the detective who sat with a needle jabbed in his arm in a room full of books talking about detection to Watson. What I was seeing was a man, a genius no doubt with superb detecting skills, solving cases. We ALL know that Sherlock Holmes was much much more than just that.
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Benedict Cumerbatch’s Holmes comes across as a cynical egotist who is primarily a loner, and is dubbed a psychopath by those of the police force who work (or rather refuse to work) with him. Yes if you want to argue, the modern things are there. Watson has a blog instead of a planner, he has a modern 9mm gun, he uses cabs and an iPhone, while “Sherlock Holmes” uses the Internet, texts, is up to date with technology as it is today. But that’s it.
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What this director seems to have forgotten is that the techniques that Conan Doyle wrote about were breakthroughs in his time, that are used by police today. In that context, the question of comparing the Holmes in the books to the one brought to life by Cumerbatch doesn’t arise. This serial is in no way a modern take on Sherlock Holmes. If it was intended to be, it has failed superbly. However, it is an interesting crime series and one that’s worth a watch. It’s just that there are so many of them out there, that I doubt this one will stay with you for very long.

The Bilge Master

Friday, May 3, 2013

Thank Heaven for Insomnia!

 

Weird right I mean who wants to stay up nights? Simple. I do. Why would I wanna do that you ask? Well, thereby hangs a tale. Come, let me tell you a story.

 

It’s been a long day and there’s an even longer walk awaiting you to your bus stop. A long journey from there to where you stay. Well all of this cumulates in you feeling worn out by the time you get home, lacking the energy to do anything but hit the hay. I’m sure many professionals will sympathize with me on this. However, consider this. What happens in each of the three stages of your journey? Do you notice the kids playing in the parks? Do you hear the televisions in the houses? do you realize you are being followed by a dog? Do you understand that as the day fades, your senses heighten, because you feel slightly threatened by the things you can’t see? Have you ever considered opening your eyes and looking into the darkness, dilated pupils straining to make out if the weird shadow in front of you is a tree or the Loch Ness Monster? There, now are you scratching your head? Wondering, “what the heck is this kid blabbering on about? Who has time for these silly games? I just wanna go home dammit!” Well, tell me, isn’t it a better way to kill time while you are waiting for your bus?

Nightfall_by_ser

Next time try to listen to the night. The next time insomnia hits you like a tow truck, make yourself a cup of coffee and sit by an open window or on your front porch. Everyday, we are told a new story by Mother Nature. Listen. If you listen, you’ll realize what magic is. You’ll be enchanted, enthralled and the graphics will blow you away.

 

The Bilge Master