Discordianism

We took on a new religion a few months ago. Mel, Garreth, and me. An impulsive, reckless decision on our part, and we have to pay for our actions now.

Discordianism. A religion that idealizes chaos and discord. A quick Wikipedia search, and we embraced it eagerly. Chaos? Bring it on, we said.

Soon after that, Garreth permanently marked Discordianism on himself, by getting a tattoo on his left arm of the symbol of Discordianism.

But, things weren't meant to be that way.

One morning, Garreth woke up, and everything changed. He couldn't remember his name, or his identity. Not the slightest idea. Frantic, he rushed into the bathroom and looked at his face in the mirror. No clue. Desperately, he pulled his hair, and they came off, but still no recollection of his life. He pulled his shirt off and started at his body. Hmm, nice nipples, he thought, but he'd never seen them before.

Finally, he turned, and lightning struck his building. Amidst the chaos, he caught a glimpse of the Tattoo. And then, he remembered who he was...

I am Dischordian, he said. He picked up his guitar, and harmonica, and walked out of the door.

Witches Promise

Talking about Witches, this video of Jethro Tull's Witches Promise is super. Ian Anderson's expressions are priceless. I tripped on it for weeks.

Stuck in the middle of words

It's that time and phase when I find it hard to write. Am struggling to write. There's so much I have to write about... but the words.. are... sluggy.

Bike ride to Srisailem! I haven't even mentioned the great adventures.
Am in Bombay and having a superfunpacked agenda.
Mel&Sim have a baby boy. The best news I got in ages. (Mel says his baby looks like an alien) Boy, I can hardly wait to see him.
Split gig tomorrow.

And finally, I attended the Iron Maiden concert last evening. I've always been terribly reluctant to spend so much money on something that lasts only a couple of hours. Rs 1650? I wouldnt have a few months ago... But, am glad I attended. Quite an experience.

I felt as if the Gods had come on stage to perform. The whole experience - the stage and changing backdrops. Bruce's insane energy and power. His costumes. And the fact that every single note and key was perfectly in place. Every single solo, ever single time. And to think they're nearly 60 years old! What a feat.

I solemnly swear that I'm attending every concert I can get my ass to.

A million ways to be cool

I know I still have to complete Neville's tag about a writer's meme, (have had a few interesting thoughts), and also an update about Black Jack Tuesday Night drinking club.

I'm in a bloggy mood today, and have 3 unpublished drafts that are stuck and not going anywhere.

But, instead, I'm going to post a a video, of this super fun song, that we fell in love with, and have been dancing to as often as we feel like. Pretty often, that is.



What we actually do is, play the video on my laptop, and pick a person from the video to be, and we do the exact dance while the video plays. (I'm usually the bald guy.)

It's incredible fun. Here's proof:




This is Sasidhar, Manisha, Priya and me at the super fun farewell-to-our-house party, before we moved out. Mariam - who's always in the dance generally, is missing here, out of her politeness to let Manisha try. (Mariam's the one who discovered the song.)

Nevermind

I'll always love Kurt Cobain, and his band, and his music.

To the junk heads, he's God. To the conservatives, he was a lunatic, alcoholic and drug abused rockstar who killed himself.

All I know is that he was brilliant. And started a strong new genre of music. He asked the questions no one dared to ask, and said things that weren't meant to be said.

He is a legend.

She should have stayed away from friends. She should have had more time to spend. She should died when she was born. She should have worn a crown of thorns. She should have... been a son. She should have... been a son.

I was thinking yesterday of how society has brought us up to be wary, and alarmed by people with mental stabilites, and problems. But it must be remembered that most of our most brilliant artists, scientists, painters, musicians, authors, philosophers were thought to be mad. But irrespective of the art they create, these are the poeple who's lives and situations and stories have brought out the important questions, and questions that we need to ask ourselves. Not individually, but as society.

Questions about incest, and violence, and abuse. These people with the problems, will grow up to be the most sensitive to issues, and most volatile to react. And the questions that come up, need to be answered.

On a lighter note, here is a Kurt Cobain quote that I've been admiring the past few days:

We'll float around, and hang out on clouds, and then we'll come down, and have a hang-over.

- from Dumb, by Nirvana.

20 Songs

I’ve easily and often blamed our generation for being insensitive, careless, and irresponsible towards issues with large implications. The most important and threatening issues facing us are:

1. War.
2. Environmental Destruction.
   

And with that worrisome note, I present a list of songs that I have come across that speak loudly and clearly about these issues (and others) that directly affect us, or will soon, and are quite powerful messages. Here goes, and also here is a disclaimer: These are in random order, and are limited to my limited knowledge and exposure. (However, Road to Peace would be my top song)

1. Road to Peace – Tom Waits

2. Kyoto Now – Bad Religion

3. War Pigs – Black Sabbath

4. Imagine – John Lennon

5. Arrested in Shanghai – Rancid

6. Great Hosannah – Kula Shaker

7. Do the evolution – Pearl Jam

8. Revolution – The Beatles

9. Know Your Rights – The Clash

10. Kill the poor – Dead Kennedys

11. Unknown Soldier – The Doors

12. Earth Song – Michael Jackson

13. Boom – System of a Down

14. In a world gone mad - Beastie Boys

15. Under the same sun – The Scorpions

16. Holy Ghost Machine Gun – Split

17. Masters of War – Bob Dylan

18. Winds of change – The Scorpions

19. Put out the fire – Queen

20. Universal Soldier - Sainte Marie Buffy

Quite a mixed list, and am sure we could add much to it. And am happy to have Split included in the list too. And am not being biased.

I love Ze Beatles

We All Live In A Yellow Submarine.
Yellow Submarine.
Yellow Submarine.

aah, what gorgeous peace.

The Eternal Jim

I'll tell you this...
No eternal reward will forgive us now,
for wasting the dawn.


- Jim Morrison


Isn't that crazy.

fortune cookies

My Orkut fortune just told me that I'm going to get new clothes.
Can someone please tell Orkut that I can't afford to go shopping? And if Orkut messes around with my future and manipulates it to send me out shopping, I know who to blame.

Ps: I'm still tripping on Depeche Mode. And DeVotchka. And Alan Parson. And Kula Shaker.
Lucky, lucky me.

Random Raving

Disclaimer: Be warned, this post was written when the writer was hung over and in need to narrate. I still am, btw, and I think I will make a proper disclaimer tomorrow.

I’m drunk, or a bit high. Or let’s just say, hung-over. That’s why I’m looking intently at the keyboard and typing. I generally don’t.

Anyway, so being hung-over has a few advantages and a few disadvantages. Let’s clear off the disadvantages first.

1. Feeling of being underwater.
2. Dull head.
3. Not-so-dull headache.
4. Mild queasiness (inversely proportionate to units of alcohol consumed.)
5. Unpleasant hallucinations and images in the head.
6. Intense hunger and thirst.

Now, the advantages

1. Interesting images and hallucinations in the head.
2. Capacity to be more blunt, honest and outrageous.
3. Easily forgiving and forgetting.

I just added the 6^th point to the disadvantages. And now I’m wondering if I should go get something to eat, but, if I do, then advantage 3 will come into play and I will forget what I wanted to write.

The reason why I’m leaning over my laptop when instead I should be curling in bed, is because I saw a couple of visions that I need to put down.

I was thinking of the party I attended last night, where I was quite a flirt and certainly got myself a good bit of attention from the boys I’d met (and for the first time). And I was wondering how, among ALL those men, I couldn't think of wanting to really see any of them again. Except maybe one, but anyhow.

And I felt sad.

The vision I saw right then was of me groping in the dark for someone to hold my hand. Not a vulgar vision, of course, just symbolic. And the lesson that the vision pointed out to me, (voiced out by the squeaky voice in my head) was, “stop groping in the dark.” When the right time comes, you will meet the fun, amazing, perfect, interesting person you are waiting for. Just stop waiting, and get on with life until then.

The second one was a memory. Long time back, of a little episode with my ex-boyfriend. I am not going to narrate it here, but it was an ugly episode which left me feeling small and played-with.

I don’t want that to ever happen, and the symbolic ‘lesson’ to that one was of me wearing my belt really tight, and not loosening it ever. Unless am sure I want to. Am not sure how that comes across to people reading a blog, but I just mean I won’t tolerate anyone playing with me again. Forget allow it.

Anyway, besides all this historic crap, I am also hoping to write something fun, interesting and creative. But, am not sure it’s here at all.

Right now, am listening to a weird mix of Alan Parson’s superb Mammagamma with Pink Floyd’s Brick in the Wall. Very nice job, whoever.

Its quite trippy.

I’ve never really been to a very trippy party. Ok, I’ve been to lots of rowdy parties, with lots of alcohol, weed, and what not, but never a rave party. A Goan rave trippy party. I do wanna go. Especially with my camera, when I buy the new one, and I will look after it of course.

Oh, and now my iTunes randomizer has randomly picked Tom Wait’s Road to Peace. Excellent song. Gary sent it to me a week back. I’ve heard Gary sing this style before, and now I know where he got it from. Gary’s brilliant. He knows so much music, it would give anyone a complex.

I was actually thinking of Gary a few minutes back too. I miss the Split boys.

Yesterday, when Varun was over and he was playing music off my laptop, and he picked Split’s Holy Ghost Machine Gun, and actually sang along, and BOTH my roommates also seemed to love the song, I felt that swell of pride for my boys. They really are talented. And they need someone to push them. That was my job while I was there, until a year back. And when I go back to Bombay, I will take back my position with eager spirit. In fact, Split is one of the strong reasons why I’m quitting and going back... I miss too much about Bombay, and Split is one of the most exciting things I was closely involved with. And when I get back, there will be lots more.

This Tom Waits song is croony. And rather long. I am going to pick the next song and save the iTunes randomizer some cursing.

The Great Hosannah – Kula Shaker.

Oh man, I love this one. Very nice, because it’s got so much in it.

Really excellent song. I hate it when anyone talks when I’m listening to my favorite music. Annoys the pants off me. Wow, is that even a phrase and what does it imply? I just wanna say I get really annoyed.

Also, I absolutely hate it when someone talks when I am watching a nice movie.
Yesterday, Varun and Priya saw Pather Panchali. For the first time, and though they saw it till the end (I doubt I’d allow them to stop midway anyway) but they kept talking here and there, or now and again, during the film, and it drove me mad.

I know it’s not fair of me to expect everyone else to take movies as seriously as I do, even if it is something as special as Satyajit Ray’s masterpiece. But, I guess I am allowed to be cranky once in a while.

To make a point here, I was the president of the St. Xavier’s Film Club in my last year at college, and right since then, my list of Movies To Watch, has grown, (and barely been satisfied) until now. Back at home, I cant watch movies if my parents or Mom or anyone is at home, either I get in their way, or they in mine, and anyway if the word ‘fuck’ comes up more than once, my mom flinches and wears an expression of distinct horror.

And since I moved to Hyderabad, the ‘parents’ element was eliminated, but I didn’t have a DVD player. And now, finally I have a laptop, and over a hundred DVDs (excellent ones) lying right here, waiting to be loved.

And this is my first weekend here in Hyd, with the laptop. And so, right now, at this precise moment, I’m wondering why I’m typing this ridiculous post and not watching a movie. Must do something about it. Will hit a button to get me out of here, and into celluloid.

Toodles.

pill-ed

we are building a religion
we are building it bigger

a religion.. a limited edition...

- comfort eagle by cake


what's our religion? whats our vision? where are we headed?

pills. frills. synthetic synthesizers. plague or cholera... or are we inventing our new diseases?

easy come, easy go, ugly insides and more regrets.

where's the pure white gone?

where's the innocent meadows? i see only metal and concrete.

where's the magic and the magician's apprentice? where are the lanterns?

I want to run away in time. I want to be at peace.

Quote of the Day and Song for the day

People will believe anything if you whisper it.

- The Whispered Rule

Song for the day:

Know your rights - The Clash

Don't Look Back In Anger

Please don't put your life in the hands
Of a rock and roll band
Who'll throw it all away.

My friends' band used to sing this song by Oasis. This was years ago, when I was hopelessly in love with the band and its vocalist. And one day, at practice, one of them looked at me and said that that line was dedicated to me. It made me cry. But he was right. They did throw it all away.

But I'll think of them every time I hear it. And sometimes laugh or maybe cry.

I love(d) Michael Jackson

Man, I grew up listening to the chap. Thriller. Bad. Billie Jean. There isn't a bigger star in my head. I thought he was incredibly hot, gorgeous, and I loved his music.
When I was in the third standard, I'd come back from school and dance for an hour. To Thriller. The whole album. And the songs still have that effect on me. Billie Jean! I could dance forever. And watching him dance... His videos were always so grand, extravagent and so, so, so engaging. Entertainment. The King of.

I've had a hard time believing what I read in the news about him. I just know that he's really sick now. Sick in the head. I dunno why or how. It's ugly and sad.

But for me, he lives on in my iTunes player and still gives me a little rush and thrill.

Split - P is for Pig

PIG SOCIETY

Pushed to the wall with vicious psychobabble
A cloud of rage that will grapple you
By the throat, by the balls, by the collar of a uniform shirt
Swing that handle
Swing that handle...

Pushed the wrong button, chose the wrong fucking channel
One more minute and we'll dismantle
And wreck this cage, this box, this rancid moving tin can
9.04 on the panel
9.04 on the panel

One more minute and something will blow
And who'll take credit for the blood that will flow?

Do they wanna grow, do they wanna go, do they wanna stop, do they wanna hit me?
I don't wanna give, I don't wanna take, I don't wanna stick close to the
Pig Society

Infinite crawl I feel my patience unravel
Can't hold on tight enough you will be gone
In a trice in a flash in half the blink of an eye
Hit the gravel
Hit the gravel


HOLY GHOST MACHINE GUN

And the Lord said
The Lord said
Yes, the Lord He speaks through me
The Lord said
To strike dead
You heathen swine who dare pass judgement on his humble servant

In the name of the father In the name of the son
I strike you down with my holy ghost machine gun

Here's the Sex Pistols

I love punk music. I love the idea of punk, its message and its energy.

Punk, to me, means, rebellion. Punk is when you're pissed off and its punk when you're angry.
Punk is when you don't give a fuck.

I fell in love with punk when Garreth and Mel (from the band, Split) started another band, a punk band, called ForceField. Punk is so hard-core.

They introduced me to The Sex Pistols and The Clash. And the Ramones. The Sex Pistols and The Clash, particularly, have the most rebellious energy and meaning to their music.

Here's a funny story about the Sex Pistols.

In November 1977 The Sex Pistols released 'Nevermind the Bollocks, Here's The Sex Pistols.' The lettering on the album sleeve was a design, crudely cut out from newspaper headlines in the same way as kidnappers' notes and hate mail were delivered. There would always be someone who was offended by this. One day, the manager of the Virgin Records shop in Nottingham was arrested under the Indecent Advertisements Act of 1889. The police said they couldn't use the word Bollocks.

Richard Branson, (whose record company, Virgin, had signed up the Sex Pistols), called a lawyer who'd helped him nearly 10 years ago on a similar charge…(for using the words venereal disease) and the lawyer said, "Bollocks? What on earth is wrong with bollocks? It's one of my favourite words." He recommended they speak to a linguistics specialist to find the exact meaning. He called up Nottingham University and spoke to Professor James Kinsley.
"So one of your staff has been arrested for displaying the word bollocks? What a load of bollocks! Actually the word "Bollocks" is an eighteenth century nickname for priests. And then, because priests generally seemed to speak such a lot of nonsense in their sermons, "bollocks' gradually came to mean "rubbish."

"So, bollocks actually means either priest or rubbish?" Richard checked to make sure he hadn't missed anything.
" That is correct."
"Would you be prepared to be a witness in court?"
"I'd be delighted."

Quoting Richard Branson: (from his autobiography, Losing My Virginity)

I enjoyed the court case. The police prosecutor was determined to win what was clearly a case of national importance. The shop manager admitted that he had prominently displayed The Sex Pistols poster. The policeman had the smug look of someone who was doing the public a great service and expected to be praised for it.

When the professor was cross examined, he explained that "bollocks" had nothing to do with testicles, but actually meant 'priests' and then - due to priest's sermons being full of it – 'rubbish.'

"So, professor Kinsley, are you saying that this expression 'nevermind the bollocks, here's the Sex Pistols', which is the basis of this prosecution, should more accurately be translated as "Nevermind the priests, here's the Sex Pistols?"

"Yes.. or it could mean, Nevermind the rubbish, here's the Sex Pistols. It sounds like a strange title for a record, but I doubt whether the Church would mind."

The prosecutor then pressed on this point, asking him how he could be sure that no clergyman would be offended.

Professor Kinsley then played his trump card, by folding down his polo neck to reveal a dog collar. Professor Kinsley was also known as Reverend Kinsley.

"That's enough," snapped the magistrate. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders and, adopting as much magisterial solemnity as he could muster, announced:
"The case is dismissed."

My Love Affair With Split

I've had strange tendencies. In my relations with rockstars.
During my first year in college, my boyfriend started a band: Seguey. I loved them. Not only because I loved him, but I loved the excitement of jamming, getting gigs, performing and all that.
Seguey had nowhere to practice, so I let them come to my home. They'd get guitars and amps and the drummer would practice on my electronic piano. And I'd tell my parents that this was important.
I'd print out lyrics, and note down chords, and serve tea.

Soon after I broke up with my boyfriend, Seguey dissolved. Everyone had scattered by then. There were plenty of other bands in college - Zephyr, Something Relevant. But I just knew them. I wasn't a part of the universe anymore.

Last December I met Garreth, the vocalist of a well known band called Split. I'd heard of them, and had seen them perform at Independence Rock - twice. Garreth told me about a gig coming up the next few days. I promised myself I'd go.

I did ... I saw them, and felt that great thrill that being pounded by loud live music beats always gives you. And it's even better when you know the person creating that live music.

A few days later, I met Nigel at a Christmas Eve party. He plays drums for Split. We were both drunk. I went up to him and told him I'd seen his band perform two days back and that I knew Gary. We immediately sat down on the grass and spoke.

About Garreth and how he is Nigel's God. About Split and how I'd love to attend practice. I promised I'd be as silent as the furniture. Not that they'd care about me being there, but just to be earnest.

Nigel and I danced, I thought it was funny. A few weeks later, I was at band practice and then I never missed any.

I love Split.
Garreth sings, or croons, or screams. And closes his eyes, like Jim Morrison. And goes berserk on stage.
Vishwesh plays guitar and jumps around and trips over cables on stage.
Mel plays guitar and wears a communist cap and bobs his head.
Shekar plays bass and looks as if he's performing a surgery.
Nigel hides behind the drums and complains that no-one can see him onstage.

They're immensely talented, like so many others of our young musicians.

But there's a tragedy here. Here in India, no rock band makes money. Not enough money for them to be able to just do what they do best- make music. No, they can't do it.
They all have to have jobs. And then what they want to do most gets put aside for weekends. Practice on Sunday morning? Yea. Inevitable, someone can't make it.
Gigs get cancelled often. Our entertainment industry is booming. People would pay anything to have a good time. But still no one arranges good live shows.

The rock scene, at least in Mumbai, where I come from, is dominated by Death Metal and its variations. Not that much variation of that kind of noise is possible, but yea, that's what one means by Rock Music here.

But Split is still around. They love their music too much to stop. They think and talk about the band a lot. They fight and get drunk and abuse cops. They argue about wanting to do something to the world. About a revolution. They write songs.

I've known them for 8 months. I've felt the heart-ache of the music.
I want things to change. I want more people listening to new music, music created by our musicians. I want crowds to appreciate Original Compositions. I want they to be willing to pay for this music, so that musicians can make a living from making music.
I want Split to never stop. I want them to be able to stop doing what they don't want to, but have to, and I want them to change the world.


I want them to record their first album in December.