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In the Manchester of Southern India

June 12, 2010 2 comments

Haven’t chanced upon anything akin to Canal Street yet. I did catch a glimpse of two virile men clothed in matching black mesh undershirts hold hands and whistle into the breeze while crossing an overflowing gutter, earlier during the day.

 The original Manchester is well know for its sports. Mostly lacrosse championships and why shouldn’t that be the case? Lacrosse is a superior sport when you compare it to something vile like football or bog snorkelling. It  invokes the same athleticism as rugby except with lesser chances to see the mugs on those doltish runts thanks to the equestrian helmets and constant headbutting. Considered closely, lacrosse resembles a well rehearsed menage-a-trois between 3 prominent spectator sports – american football, foot  polo and fencing.

What are some of your favorite sports?

Write to me about them and I shall prove to you how all of them are, essentially, inglorious versions of  croquet.

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Notes on a Duncecap Mountain

February 10, 2010 Leave a comment

Even if the mountain I climbed
Proved to be merely a duncecap It
was only on gaining its peak
That that knowledge reached me.

They don’t fucking tell you that before you embark on your own Gerlinde Kaltenbrunner fantasy, do they?
Tramps all.

We are 1 and a half futilists in here if you were to consider the baby yak sleeping at the foot of the bed.

When in rome, eat yak butter

February 9, 2010 2 comments

No arrival. No departure.
Evanescence in a museum.

Alternatively, yak butter candles are present in a museum too. If the museum is where I am. All they have in these parts is yak and more yak. Here a yak, there a yak, everywhere a yak yak. More yakkety yak than in any local train in Bombay.
To make best of a terrible culinary aberration I will have to subsist on Milk biscuits and maggi for the rest of the 4 days.Or, at any rate like they say: when in rome, eat yak butter.
Internets are breaching upon shaky grounds here. Literally. So, micro-blogging it is.

I seem to have been born swimming in Mutability, and readings in that area were home ground. I had some training in Educational psychology. Gestalt spoke instantly to my condition. My rather lack-lustre response to the structuralist onset, in the late Sixties, or whenever it hit popular Academia, is partly explained by that old, if partial, familiarity.
Roy Fisher in 1998. How many will openly agree to not reading Merleau Ponty as well as endorse Gestalt therapy? None, I’ll tell. This alone raises him through the ranks to superlative.

D.H. Lawrence argued that the novel was unmatched as a medium for “subtle interrelationships,” but 80 years after Lady Chatterly, what offers more subtlety and interrelatedness than the World Wide Web? And if the new novel is Facebook, or World of Warcraft, then aren’t novels that break from social realism even further behind the curve? The Internet, in other words, makes the avant-garde seem retrograde. It suggests that the real artists are over in computer-based hypertext…..The metamorphoses (to cite a lovely antique) won’t end there, not so long as the species has a need for myth and fable. Then why would any young imagination with a penchant for going outside the lines not explore a computer-based variant?
Also the impossibility of writing a critique about the postmodern novel that could be read with comprehension?

“For several moments,” he said, “I would experience such joy as would be inconceivable in ordinary life – such joy that no one else could have any notion of. I would feel the most complete harmony in myself and in the whole world and this feeling was so strong and sweet that for a few seconds of such bliss I would give ten or more years of my life, even my whole life perhaps.”

Dostoevsky’s own description of an ecstatic aura that usually precedes a grand mal seizure. The larger question is, how much did this temporal lobe epilespy affect his works?

In an insightful analysis of the language of nonresponsibility, Gambino defines three different varities of of euphemisms. One form, palliative expressions is widely used to make reprehensible respectable. Through the power of hygenic words even the killing of human beings loses much of its repugnancy. Soldiers waster people rather than kill them, intelligence operatives terminate them with extreme prejudice (Safire, 1979). When mercenaries speak of fulfilling a contract, murder is transformed by admirable words into honorable discharge of duty. Bombing attcks are labelled as clean, surgical strikes, invoking the imagery of restorative handicrafts of the operating room, and the civilians they kill are linguistically converted to collateral damage.

Albert Bandura (if there is any reason to bother with Behaviorism, its him (hope Ma doesn’t read my blog, she is into Skinner and all)) on Euphemistic Labeling.

Skip to Pg 18 if you lack patience.

Would not recommend you to do this though.

Ok, off to sample yak milk cheese. What kind of wine would it go with?