Eastern Promises

So.. That weekend wasn't very productive in any way. What a surprise :-P

Just hung out with a friend Friday.. Didn't do much Saturday except work on some ideas, although I made little progress. And today I saw the new movie called Eastern Promises. Darn it was violent, but all considered, it had to be. Won't say too much about it for fear of spoiling it for other people, but damn.. The acting was top-notch and everything in the movie seemed believable. It wasn't a feel good movie, but it did not crush the viewer with a barrage of depression either.
It showed all the grey zones. I hope we'll see more of that stuff for the director. And Viggo Mortensen was just brilliant beyond words :-P

Serpent

A movement, though
Languid at first
A serpent that stretches
To quench its thirst

Fangs sharpened, and
Its bite is massive
Slowly moving and
Yet passive

A patience, of
Glowing scales
Reflecting the light
Of old tales

A serpent, moves
Seeking its food
Left no other choice
Consumes its brood

It is wonderful to observe the differences in all things. A dog, though barely more than a child, seeming an infantile giant without a sense of proportion. It moves like a huge baby although with an added measure of intimidating physical strength. It does not mind being what it is. Without shame. Though on a leash, it seems more free than I'll ever be.

All things that grow

Internal memo: Pull that lever, will you? Yes, the break, that's it... thank you. Now get your ass down in front of that keyboard and write, watch your fingers dance that dance you know... yeah, that's it, they're keeping up with the beat for once. Just keep it coming... keep those legs in motion, and see it all spin again..

____________________________________________________________________
I scream in a dream
To ever seem
One with the stream
Of my rage

And hate for my fate
Was hushed too late
The inner gate
Of my cage

____________________________________________________________________

Almost through watching the third season of Battlestar Galactica. Although I really have to switch my brain off sometimes when I'm watching it due to some of the inconsistencies, the series has really grown on me. Its spiritual albeit obscure take on an alternate reality is sort of refreshing, and the creators of the series really know how to create a lot of material without too much of a penalty to the pace. There is a lot of predictability, but of course you need that lest you leave your audience without any idea of what's going on... That said, there is a fair amount of unpredictability as well although sometimes you find yourself thinking that the writer is a mite trigger happy when it comes to the creation of new plot twists. In the third season there's a lot of "exploring the characters' psychology and their past". There is no end to the obscure and, it feels, at times irrelevant revelations. Hallucinations and imaginary friends in Galactica are so common that I found myself wanting it all to end so they could get their arses back on track. To their credit I'd say they did; whenever everything was getting just a little too farfetched they managed to stop the train just before it went off the track.

No TV series is better than its actors. Sure, the writing, special effects, direction and all the other details are important as well, but a great spectacle without any real acting is just worthless. In this particular area Galactica does not disappoint. Most characters, even those who appear only briefly, seem to have a soul and a purpose of their own. Now, if you don't know about the series already, it's like this: Humanity's greatest enemy is a race of machines called the Cylons, which are - SURPRISE! - originally created by the humans. Okay, not really a surprise. But what makes Galactica a great series is the way it manages to take what seems to be an absolute cliché and turn it into something cool. Not some I, Robot thing.
The Cylons have developed a certain type of their kind very similar to a human being. In fact, they look completely human and are even biological organisms based on genetic material.
There are 12 different humanoid models, and all have different personalities. I wouldn't start spoiling it all for anyone who hasn't seen the series, but suffice to say that the actors who play these humanoid Cylons are very well cast.

Most of the characters aren't just stereotypes that remain the same all the time. They change, molded by the events of the world they live in. They all have flaws, they all make mistakes, they all have regrets. The series shows that no human being is perfect, and how that is exactly what makes a person human. A cliché, of course, but personally I can't get tired of watching examples of human psychology.

Old posts.

It seems the virtual bulldozer did not quite prevail... My old blog still exists, only it's 'somewhatorganized' with, z replacing s. I looked at a couple of old posts, and their surreality dawned on me... I wrote them before New Year, before this damned illness took a hold of me.
I wrote them with hope in mind, and I am at a loss when I try to find words to match them now...

Undiagnosed illness is like a cage in total darkness. You can feel the bars, but you can't see them. They restrain you, but it is almost impossible to see what is outside of the cage; not knowing what might be the cure for your condition or when that cure might be applied makes you focus on the problem, and you keep touching the bars to find some kind of weakness. Even though you know the bars do not change, and probing them will not do you much good. You have to look beyond the bars, and force yourself to let your eyes break through the darkness. But the longer you have to endure the same persistent symptoms, the deeper the darkness seems in your eyes. When you already have difficulty seeing purpose in life, each day of that repetitive, unchanging pressure takes you one step closer to despair.

I look at what I've written before because it is full of hope, and I hope to draw some strength from it.

My old blog stopped being updated in early January - when the illness came...

These are the old posts that struck me as most interesting.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Discordia.

"23rd of December. Closing in on Christmas. Surreal...

I have memories, lots of memories of different versions of the 23rd. I flip through the pages of my inner photo album, viewing each sequence vividly, recalling past Decembers, past years, past thoughts... I remember the childish joy when I was younger, the pure glee that filled me when I thought of all the presents I'd be getting and all the time I'd be spending together with those closest to me. The 23rd got it right back then, it did it for me, it catalyzed the right mood.
It's not impossible to think that I felt like that back then... But as time passes, the memories start to seem surreal, like something from an alien dimension. Distant. Obscure.

But today has seemed more surreal than any other 23rd before it. I feel run over by the train of time. The atmosphere was almost acidic, straining everyone's patience. I can't remember when I've last seen my family so tense. Seems like everyone was sitting with each their mindset, no two wavelengths the same. Misunderstandings.
My problem is that I feel empty... I know I'm not going to have my current job much longer, and I've been so bloody stuck in the routine that I'm without direction when pulled out of it. I'm a mess, but hopefully I can straigthen it out... Tidy it up.

It's a discordian tune, playing in my head... A mess of incoherent dreams from last night haunting me, and my mind playing twisted games with twisted words in twisted ways. I just hope I can sleep more peacefully tonight, washing away the acid layer, blowing away the foul air. I want to meet my next dawn smiling."

Thursday, December 28, 2006

The Silence of the Aftermath.

"It's amazing how much can change in the course of a mere few days... Quiet streams of moments, at times passing at a slow pace, at times blasting by so quickly you can't see what they contain. A waterfall of cascading memories as you wake up from silent dreams, or fictions turned into reality as many turned into one collaborate to channel their thoughts to create the impossible. Dreamy sentiments of a lone mind in a surreal mess of visions, smiles surrounding it, and darkness behind it. Breaking the light, the same two elements emerge, and the darkness which was in hiding. Both clear, but one can't be seen, yet is felt by the sensitive touch of memory. It is simultaneously burning and chilling, static and yet ever-changing, flowing in a stream like water, and yet thick and inpenetratable as diamond. You grasp and your fingers pass through, or sometimes they stick to the frozen matter and can't get free. You laugh and you scream at the same time, wondering which of the utterances of emotion is the true one. In the end there is the silence, the overwhelming silence, more powerful that any sound, as towering and powerful as a tsunami, making the last remnants of all the voices echo all the more clearly throughout the mind.

I still need to get my bearings, I still need to find the course I wish to take, I still need to find my road to silence, my road to the aftermath of something that is yet to happen. When dawn breaks in the New Year, and I see peace in its wake..."

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

" It's past 2 a.m. and I am making and eating toast. Making and eating toast is what I am doing."

Passion

Even in times when it is easier to face the darkness and discard all positive thought, there are those moments when you see passion in everything. That passion might seem different to you depending on who you are, and it might occur to you in different situations. To me it seems to happen when I'm riding my bicycle... It's almost a sense of euphoria sometimes, and I feel like I'm going insane - but in a good way. I see passion in the rain that keeps hitting my face, I see passion in the moon, in the horizon, in the windows of every house I pass by. I see passion in the future, and passion in myself. Sometimes, when I stop, I wonder where the passion came from, and why I felt it... I wonder what was the point. But other times - and those are the times I cherish - the obvious thought is "why not?". Why not feel passionate about life, why not feel that there is a meaning, even when things might seem meaningless? - Is it just romantic babble? To some, maybe, but that is because the passion is different to them. Perhaps fuelled by some irrational urge, or by logic. By music, by movies, by simple candlelight. Anyone might feel at times that passion has abandoned them, and few people are lucky enough to escape doubt. When I do feel a sense of passion, I feel thankful for it, but the "miracle" ceases the moment I think too much about it. The moment I start questioning my passion my contemplations make it wither. But it is when I feel most helpless and depressed that I truly need to dig as deep as possible and use all means to glimpse, if just for a moment, something to be passionate about, and then I hold on to it as fiercely as I can. Everyone has a passion, but sometimes when we are depressed, others are better at seeing it than we are. And though each downfall from happiness seems a hard blow, each discovery of a new passion, or the rediscovery of an old one, feels like a new beginning.

Welcome to the Jungle!

What was once my room has turned into a grotesque Ikean (now officially a word) battlefield.
Having begun my studies I've already been afflicted with a Reorganisation Syndrome... The sudden need to put everything in my room into a new order, rearranging and recategorising. Why am I writing this on my blog? Because it is boring and I'm following the human instinct which dictates that boredom must be shared. Although like many other boring activities, it is necessary. Because my room has deteriorated into a mess lately. Or, it started out as a mess, but the mess has been spreading. Hopefully when I'm done, I'll have a clean room as well as a clean conscience!

Linguistics

"Have you already eaten or not?" asks someone, and the other answers "I have eaten". That is how you say hello in the Chinese dialect Teochew. "I have eaten" is simply the traditional answer and has nothing to do with whether or not you have actually eaten.
Wohooo? So far linguistics seems quite the right choice! Interesting results ensue when you are equipped with a basic understanding of the grammatical structure of a certain language combined with a very small vocabulary... You start experimenting, forming new sentences, some of them utterly nonsensial. And you feel you are loving it!

So far I've only had Language Analysis (direct translation of the Danish name for the course...) and Phonetics. Both interesting in each their way, showing how utterly fucked language can be given certain grammatical rules or the molesting of basic pronunciation. Both teachers approaches their respective subjects with contagious enthusiasm, and it completely eliminated all my fears. This was of course only the beginning; I may yet have to take my words back at some point. My last two courses seem obscure because I know very few details about them, but hopefully their quality will match what I've seen so far. If not, well, bad luck :P

And I had an MR-scan... Not something I hope I will ever have again. It can stir even the tiniest fraction of claustrophobia that might be hidden in the dark corners of your mind.... although the worst part to me was not the sense of being trapped inside a tube; it was the sound of the machine that seemed to push my body from all directions, making me feel as though my brain was being squeezed out. Mmmmmmmmmm...!

It sounds worse than it is - the worst part only lasted for 3 minutes. I had headphones on that allowed me to hear some tranquil music - that was what kept me sane for the 20 or so minutes it lasted. I just hope I'll know the results before too long :)

Tomorrow I'll have a course that has to do with the media... or something. Media analysis. I'll have to wait and see what that's all about.

Anyway, that's all for today/tonight.
/T out.

Total War

So I've spent the last few days playing Medieval 2: Total War: Kingdoms and I've just started reading a book. To be more specific, a book called Deadhouse Gates by Stephen Erikson.
As far as the book is concerned, I can't say much about its quality yet, but judging by the first book in the series (The Malazan Book of the Fallen), Gardens of the Moon, I think it'll be a grand ride.

In M2: TW: Kingdoms I've had the pleasure of launching a Norwegian invasion in the northern part of the British Isles, fighting against all odds challenging a seemingly mad Scottish army that did not concern itself with England because the latter had enough trouble dealing with Wales and Ireland. Instead of fighting as a rebel against the English, William Wallace decided to take arms against the Norwegian army instead. However, with all Scottish cities and castles taken in the end, the Scots were left without a home and thus lost many supporters.
Now my double headache consists of the Baron's Alliance (rebel English barons who didn't fancy the king all that much) and the Welsh which have formed a firm alliance against me and newfound ally England... which by now consists of a single city.
Fortunately the Welsh armies seem to consist purely of arches, so an all-out charge routs them pretty quickly. Actually I've been astounded by the lack of morale in enemy armies at times; I've won improbably victories simply due to entire enemy armies that, though they were extremely superior, suddenly turned and ran. Either my warriors are more intimidating than I thought or I'm simply lucky. Or it could be broken AI. Which leads me to another thing... AI is still far from perfect. They don't use their cavalry properly, and that makes it frighteningly easy to outflank them. Actual tactics besides an all-out charge are usually overrated when the crude and straightforward approach can be used with hardly any casualties on your side.
Still, the sheer sight of heavy cavalry ramming into lines of infantry is enjoyable enough whether or not the AI is found wanting.

Oh, and by tomorrow afternoon I'll officially be studentus magisterii... Which sounds more fancy than it is :-P Basically just means I'll officially be a student at the university. The last few days have seemed incredibly slow and boring simply because my curiosity was so stirred during the introduction period that I immediately found myself wanting to learn more. I almost can't wait to actually get started. Oh, and spend a fortune on books, oh the precious books. Thankfully I still have a fortune (kinda) so it'll be alright.

Anyway, I've a Baron's Alliance to destroy or a book to read. Choices, choices.

War out!