The Bay Area traffic scene is not a terrain I would recommend for people with malignant hearts or impending pregnancies. Thus, the introduction of tears in such an environ is like wearing green to Bal Thakerey's birthday party. The tears flow south, colorful specks like discarded bile in an acid infested tummy pass you by east and west and the sorrow wobbles on in every direction. It's a high unparalleled by that of any drug - a sorrow without a source you can completely pin point.
I had watched Gonzo: Life and Works of Hunter S. Thompson over the weekend, and while the experience had touched me, I wouldn't say it had moved me a considerable amount at the time. Hunter S. Thompson is the God who wrote the novel version of the Depp starrrer "Fear and Loathin in Las Vegas" where Depp plays the jouno/author himself. It is a scathing, sarcastic commentary on American consumerism and greed as Duke (played by Depp) and his attorney Dr. Gonzo (Benicio Del Toro) set out in search of a 'phony' American Dream under the heavy influence of "every drug known to mankind since 1540 AD". Anyway watch the movie for a brilliant performance by Depp and director Terry Gilliam's twisted vision, reinforced by some psychadellic camera work.
Hunter even ran for mayor of Aspen, Colorado and to everyone's surprise managed to rake up 160K votes (the winning block of stone got 213K or so) with his ludicrous yet sane manifesto which included legalizing drugs. He was a stauch supporter of George McGovern in the '72 presidential elections who wanted to pull out troops from Vietnam immediately, and thus lost out to Nixon, chronicled in "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail". There is a point in an interview in the documentary when Hunter breaks down in anger and hatred for Nixon. The Bush re-election finally drove him to take his own life in 2005 at the age of 73, which is a shame, because I agree with his friends who feel that he could have weilded a pretty effective sword with his Gonzo journalism on today's events. People like John Stewart and Colbert are but modern day minions of Hunter.
Maybe it was the songs on the soundtrack CD of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" that I bought yesterday in San Francisco's Hippie Haight-Ashbury area, where Hunter hung out a lot, or the sudden realization of the loss of sanity and clarity that has descended upon us, or a looming personal tragedy that triggered the tears, but I cannot say for sure. All I can say is that it was the worst kind of sadness.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Spicy Spam Kabobs
I am considering a switch of careers. No, no, not becoming a full time filmmaker, well not just yet anyway, but I have realized that I am completely wasting my real "talent" in the Semiconductor industry. I am sure Captain would support my decision with extreme understanding, that is if he believes me. I don't know if any of you with Gmail accounts have noticed, but the Spam messages have gotten more colorful and varied than just repeated implorations to increase the size of your primary and secondary sexual organs (depending on your sex).
Yes, I'll go ahead and admit it. My life has changed. With an addiction that would make members of the ACA (American Caffeine Addiction) support group proud, I religiously check my email every morning, even before I perform my morning ablutions. Obviously, not the uninteresting section titled 'Inbox' where there are not too many mails anyway, but the stashed Spam section. I'll be man enough to admit it. It makes me feel wanted when for example, I see 69 emails in my Spam box as opposed to a measly 1 in my Inbox (from my mother usually). You wouldn't understand. Oh the insecurities a straight twenty-something man has to encounter in today's cosmos!
The messages are uplifting, ranging from political subjects like 'France Prez denied green card', to entertainment - 'Jack Nicholson dies from viagra abuse', to art - 'Italian painter uses only body fluids for new paintaing', to history - 'Reserach reveals Hitler was a cock-fighting junkie', to sport - 'Cricket becomes the first sport to build a temple for followers of its faith', to health - 'Cheetos can cause growth of extra nipple', to fashion 'Ponches now chic says Ralph Lauren', to travel 'Bermuda Traingle latest #1 getaway for honeymooning couples', to religion 'Pope converts to Paganism', to environment 'Al Gore opposes the use of latex condoms', to lifestyle 'Take her to the zoo for your first date', and finally to career 'Blogger becomes professional Spammer'. From time to time, you do get the usual boring 'See Angelia naked' messages. In fact, I have a conspirary theory that she bribes Google executives in order to receive some free advertisement. Why else would we not be tempted with nakes images of other stars? This favortism would smarten even the cheeks of the BCCI committee of the 90's.
If you notice the 'From' section in your Spam box, the names are increasingly changing. Eariler they would range just from Evan Smith to Rashawd Johnson. Gradually, these changed to something more hybrid - 'melting pot' and all that jazz - Ali Johnson or Chitralekha Robinson, and eventually, now if you look closely, you do find names like Pinky Walia. This, I believe is India's greatest achievement since independance. Who cares about Rakesh Sharma moonwalking with Russians, or eleven men in whites getting the better of some giants in a game of gilli danda, or even us testing some fireworks in Pokhran. In this age of subconscious solitude, there is nothing more gratifying than to reach every human's email box and bring a smile to them.
Yes, I'll go ahead and admit it. My life has changed. With an addiction that would make members of the ACA (American Caffeine Addiction) support group proud, I religiously check my email every morning, even before I perform my morning ablutions. Obviously, not the uninteresting section titled 'Inbox' where there are not too many mails anyway, but the stashed Spam section. I'll be man enough to admit it. It makes me feel wanted when for example, I see 69 emails in my Spam box as opposed to a measly 1 in my Inbox (from my mother usually). You wouldn't understand. Oh the insecurities a straight twenty-something man has to encounter in today's cosmos!
The messages are uplifting, ranging from political subjects like 'France Prez denied green card', to entertainment - 'Jack Nicholson dies from viagra abuse', to art - 'Italian painter uses only body fluids for new paintaing', to history - 'Reserach reveals Hitler was a cock-fighting junkie', to sport - 'Cricket becomes the first sport to build a temple for followers of its faith', to health - 'Cheetos can cause growth of extra nipple', to fashion 'Ponches now chic says Ralph Lauren', to travel 'Bermuda Traingle latest #1 getaway for honeymooning couples', to religion 'Pope converts to Paganism', to environment 'Al Gore opposes the use of latex condoms', to lifestyle 'Take her to the zoo for your first date', and finally to career 'Blogger becomes professional Spammer'. From time to time, you do get the usual boring 'See Angelia naked' messages. In fact, I have a conspirary theory that she bribes Google executives in order to receive some free advertisement. Why else would we not be tempted with nakes images of other stars? This favortism would smarten even the cheeks of the BCCI committee of the 90's.
If you notice the 'From' section in your Spam box, the names are increasingly changing. Eariler they would range just from Evan Smith to Rashawd Johnson. Gradually, these changed to something more hybrid - 'melting pot' and all that jazz - Ali Johnson or Chitralekha Robinson, and eventually, now if you look closely, you do find names like Pinky Walia. This, I believe is India's greatest achievement since independance. Who cares about Rakesh Sharma moonwalking with Russians, or eleven men in whites getting the better of some giants in a game of gilli danda, or even us testing some fireworks in Pokhran. In this age of subconscious solitude, there is nothing more gratifying than to reach every human's email box and bring a smile to them.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Eternal Sunshine on Polka Dotted Boxers
It is 10:34 am and I am sitting in my second successive meeting of the morning. The caffeine has thankfully started taking effect and I don't feel like I have been hit by a meteorite anymore. Let me go ahead and crib a bit. Thursday is the only day that I have a 9 am meeting. It's usually 10:30 am when I drag my feet into work on other days. Now you might envy me after knowing this, but c'mon, it's not fair to expect me to be at work by 9 when my body is conditioned to wake up after 9. OK OK. Cribbing over.
There is another reason for my lack of beauty sleep. No, there are no cricket matches on at ghastly hours, nor am I in a saat samundar paar long distance relationship, and no, I am not forcing amnesia, no, nostalgia, arrey I can't remember the word, that sleeplessness condition, on myself, to appear pseudo-intellectual. I am fun editing. The phrase hasn't made it to the Oxford dictionary yet, but if I have my way, the Queen's English will be violated a little more by the next release. So, I am working on this 20-25 minute short film as an AD and partly as Lighting Designer (and partly as Cinematographer when crew members vanish into thin air, no not after dieting too much, they just leave: "I have a family emergency", "proctologist's appointment", "I am henpecked and my wife is from Bush's, I mean Hitler's, lineage"; you get the idea), but I recently got Final Cut Pro 6.0 (industry editing software) and so I am playing around with the footage. The first night I got the software, I created this sequence of the protagonist in the bathroom (shower and hair gelling only, in case you kinky ones were getting excited) with the only footage I had at the time - bathroom shots and cutaways of a fire alarm. Go figure!
Watch Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na for very good acting by an ensemble cast so fresh, they still possess that new car smell. Standout cameo performance from Prateik Babbar, product of Smita Patil's mistake with a random bloke. Watch Aamir for a very visual few opening few sequences, directed by Anuraag Kashyap's AD. Watch Wall-E for that good feeling you get after eating dessert (please beware; this feeling maybe exclusively a Bengali thing, but you can relate to it I am sure; as my probashi friend SuGu says, everyone is Bengali anyway, moreso French footballers - MalouDa, Saha etc. etc.). It's already #19 in IMDB's all-time top movies. I am in a Kurosawa-Mifune phase, partly because I was reading Donald Ritchie's The Films of Akira Kurosawa after I heard about it at Jabberwock. Red Beard is their best work till date that I have seen. Beats Rashomon and Seven Samurai for me. Mifune's restrained performance was a revelation. Its a pity that he couldn't shave his beard and thus had an argument with Kuro since he lost contracts of films from other "directors" at the time, and never made any more films with him. Probably for the best. I don't think I would have liked to see him in color (Red Beard is Kuro's last B&W film).
Received a lot of messages since this blog was on standby (OK fine, just two, but you know who you are; thanks - makes a difference in this age of individualism). Read Aamir Khan's and Amitabh's blogs and realized they write very often despite their busy schedule. So, I should not disappoint my "fans" either. OK boring meeting over.
Love
There is another reason for my lack of beauty sleep. No, there are no cricket matches on at ghastly hours, nor am I in a saat samundar paar long distance relationship, and no, I am not forcing amnesia, no, nostalgia, arrey I can't remember the word, that sleeplessness condition, on myself, to appear pseudo-intellectual. I am fun editing. The phrase hasn't made it to the Oxford dictionary yet, but if I have my way, the Queen's English will be violated a little more by the next release. So, I am working on this 20-25 minute short film as an AD and partly as Lighting Designer (and partly as Cinematographer when crew members vanish into thin air, no not after dieting too much, they just leave: "I have a family emergency", "proctologist's appointment", "I am henpecked and my wife is from Bush's, I mean Hitler's, lineage"; you get the idea), but I recently got Final Cut Pro 6.0 (industry editing software) and so I am playing around with the footage. The first night I got the software, I created this sequence of the protagonist in the bathroom (shower and hair gelling only, in case you kinky ones were getting excited) with the only footage I had at the time - bathroom shots and cutaways of a fire alarm. Go figure!
Watch Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na for very good acting by an ensemble cast so fresh, they still possess that new car smell. Standout cameo performance from Prateik Babbar, product of Smita Patil's mistake with a random bloke. Watch Aamir for a very visual few opening few sequences, directed by Anuraag Kashyap's AD. Watch Wall-E for that good feeling you get after eating dessert (please beware; this feeling maybe exclusively a Bengali thing, but you can relate to it I am sure; as my probashi friend SuGu says, everyone is Bengali anyway, moreso French footballers - MalouDa, Saha etc. etc.). It's already #19 in IMDB's all-time top movies. I am in a Kurosawa-Mifune phase, partly because I was reading Donald Ritchie's The Films of Akira Kurosawa after I heard about it at Jabberwock. Red Beard is their best work till date that I have seen. Beats Rashomon and Seven Samurai for me. Mifune's restrained performance was a revelation. Its a pity that he couldn't shave his beard and thus had an argument with Kuro since he lost contracts of films from other "directors" at the time, and never made any more films with him. Probably for the best. I don't think I would have liked to see him in color (Red Beard is Kuro's last B&W film).
Received a lot of messages since this blog was on standby (OK fine, just two, but you know who you are; thanks - makes a difference in this age of individualism). Read Aamir Khan's and Amitabh's blogs and realized they write very often despite their busy schedule. So, I should not disappoint my "fans" either. OK boring meeting over.
Love
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