No disrespect to the musicians of yore, but the awards held yesterday seemed like an elongated history lesson. The emphasis on showcasing country music, as Dixie Chicks ran amok at the awards podium, coupled with nostalgia resulted in a show that was looking over its shoulder as opposed to ahead. BUT despite its shortcomings, man o man was I glad that some of the artists and tracks I was plugging ended up getting nominated. I’d been preaching Lupe Fiasco (BRILLIANT), Imogen Heap and C. Bailey Rae to all near and far and im glad that these commercially obscure (except CBR I guess) artists managed to get their names on the bill.
WTF was up with Mary J getting the awards she got. A duet with Bono should not mean she gets unwarranted recognition for tracks (which relative to her other releases off the album) are average at best. LuDA’s time was a coming and the performance of ‘Runaway’ was wicked, socially conscious and it seems that Nas, Ludacris and maybe Lupe have picked up the mantle of social commentary in hip-hop vs the gangsta shyte that now seems pretty regurgitated (cept maybe the game...he ayte). A sublime performance of ‘just like a star’ made the rest of the crap almost worth it. John Mayer ravaged his guitar. But just like a star man… first time I heard the track I knew! It deserved a grand stage. Where were Muse goddamit???!!!Oddly enough I think they held back this year on purpose so that the 50 year anniversary can be a grand gala, and I have to admit, the MTV EMA awards won the glitz, coolness and semi-credibility battle. Man Europeans just see to know good music when they hear it. Good music as opposed to popular music! No carrie underwood’s n Christian preaching allowed.
BUT BUT the grammys have really really taken a stand on the War issue by showering Dixie Chicks after the release of their anti-war album. A bit too little too late non? But at least they made the thoughts of the music community known. It seemed like a battle within a battle… history vs. the present vs. the future (in terms of music)… country music vs. Dixie chicks… Texans vs. the rest of America. Cool stuff aye? N I still have yet to hear anything by the Dixie chicks cus I don’t think they release outside the states. I guess it’s a good thing. Oh btw the POLICE managed to get together for a bit to start it off. And please if anyone mentions timberlake once more im gonna puke.
even funnier was how all these supposed hollywood actors seemed so wooden compared ot the musicians. the latter might be dumber BUT man they dont need to act. the 'characters' are entertaining as is. actually when they were jsut musicians up on stage it didnt seem soo scripted which considering these kinda events is pretty impressive.
Ps: highlight of hte night was Don healy of Eagles snubbing the other ‘texan’ n country music as he throws his weight behind the Dixie Chicks.
PSS: im waiting for hte dream colaboration of CBR, alicia keys n lauryn hill or fiona apple
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Table of Contents
At times I feel my thoughts are as muddled as the serenity of a clear thought broken by a prism of self-consciousness. At times I feel that the spoke not spoken might be better translated in the written word but most times I realize that it requires the ability to explore that part of myself that has been explored one time too many.
Unfortunately, repetition helps not, because i must see myself as someone else before I judge, and when I manage to do that I can only catch a glimpse of scattered thoughts in a meadow that rots of stagnation.
But fortunately, for the sake of future word I managed to strap my ADD laden brain long enough to get the chapter titles for blog thingies yet to be written. I guess it’s a process of a self-exploration but but but atleast I got a roadmap of thoughts…all that’s left is to explore the tangents.
-intuition is a precursor to knowledge
-reality feeds the body, while ideals feed the soul (umbi)
-the basis for evolution is a revolution
-we need to analyze the paralysis of thought
-god + war = resolve
-the commercialization of life has resulted in it becoming a series of ready-made daydreams
-destruction is a form of creation
-can we tell which human beings are solar powered as opposed to power powered?
PS: I AM NOT AN ANARCHIST
The Ocean: Brethren
“We are all sailing down the stream of time which we can neither create nor direct. All we can do is steer with (more or less) experience and skill.”
Broken steps litter the journey towards what one feels might be salvation. Unopposed the stream of people finds the path of least resistance and culminates to form what can only be deemed a reservoir of fear and hope. The reservoir leaks streams which join forces to form a river that grows wider and drives forward faster. The river has many tributaries… leaks from the reservoirs of cliques, countries, groups, the human race. Not only do smaller streams flowing down the staircases of the corporate ‘west’ contribute but so do the streams that gush forward like the very liquid gold that the ‘non-corporate’ drill. It was a movement. Slipping and streaming. Inertia was on their side.
Twists. And. Turns.
Hope, yes it forms, but fear keeps it temperate as it spews out into the hinterland that has no land. The ocean is a funny place. The twists and turns are no more. You find brethren. You find yourself.
Broken steps litter the journey towards what one feels might be salvation. Unopposed the stream of people finds the path of least resistance and culminates to form what can only be deemed a reservoir of fear and hope. The reservoir leaks streams which join forces to form a river that grows wider and drives forward faster. The river has many tributaries… leaks from the reservoirs of cliques, countries, groups, the human race. Not only do smaller streams flowing down the staircases of the corporate ‘west’ contribute but so do the streams that gush forward like the very liquid gold that the ‘non-corporate’ drill. It was a movement. Slipping and streaming. Inertia was on their side.
Twists. And. Turns.
Hope, yes it forms, but fear keeps it temperate as it spews out into the hinterland that has no land. The ocean is a funny place. The twists and turns are no more. You find brethren. You find yourself.
2007: a beginning
Within the unforgiving grip of monotony the minutes seem like years but the years seem to go like minutes.
“in an unchanging universe a beginning in time is something that has to be imposed by some being outside the universe; there is no physical necessity for a beginning.”
SH “A brief history of Time’
I don’t know if reading SH’s book was a good thing or not. I am a big believer in the ‘ignorance is bliss’ stream of thought and this book doesn’t seem to be compatible with that viewpoint. I mean is SH trying to subtly tell us that no matter what science proves there needs to be a catalyst or a HIM that can impose a beginning, thereby scientifically proving the existence of god or or or … all our stumbling self discoveries are misplaced… maybe there is no beginning.
“in an unchanging universe a beginning in time is something that has to be imposed by some being outside the universe; there is no physical necessity for a beginning.”
SH “A brief history of Time’
I don’t know if reading SH’s book was a good thing or not. I am a big believer in the ‘ignorance is bliss’ stream of thought and this book doesn’t seem to be compatible with that viewpoint. I mean is SH trying to subtly tell us that no matter what science proves there needs to be a catalyst or a HIM that can impose a beginning, thereby scientifically proving the existence of god or or or … all our stumbling self discoveries are misplaced… maybe there is no beginning.
Stand your Ground
The fire burns into another lie.
Another reason to stand your ground and watch life pass you by
A mural of words
A composition of thoughts
Stand your ground… apathy hope is not.
Seconds mould ‘now’ into a minute of a year
Of a fire that dies leaving embers of lies to be told
About us, about them, about her, about him. not art.
Stand your ground. Life is an exhibition.
Read the murals. Hear the harmony of thoughts.
We still live in an era of prohibition
Guard your art.
boca
Another reason to stand your ground and watch life pass you by
A mural of words
A composition of thoughts
Stand your ground… apathy hope is not.
Seconds mould ‘now’ into a minute of a year
Of a fire that dies leaving embers of lies to be told
About us, about them, about her, about him. not art.
Stand your ground. Life is an exhibition.
Read the murals. Hear the harmony of thoughts.
We still live in an era of prohibition
Guard your art.
boca
Ounces
Is it better not to whisper that which life kept unsaid?
To tremble with not one, but many ounces of regret
An ounce for fear, love, joy, and those put to eternal bed
But if ounces are ounces, time is now for words to be said.
Words:
NO I AM STRONG. I AM BUT ME
And to fear, love or revel in the joy of bed
is to accept that which cannot be
boca
To tremble with not one, but many ounces of regret
An ounce for fear, love, joy, and those put to eternal bed
But if ounces are ounces, time is now for words to be said.
Words:
NO I AM STRONG. I AM BUT ME
And to fear, love or revel in the joy of bed
is to accept that which cannot be
boca
the artist
The worker uses his hands
The craftsman uses his hands and head
The artist uses his hands, head and heart
the ITs
Heartless creature of the night the ITS are cannibalistic in their search for escape. Whores for the next new thing they fluttered through a wide array of corridors and unmarked doors. Entering but not absorbing. Seeing but not absorbing.
The pack does not have a distinguishable leader but it could easily be dissected into two groups: a group of individuals dripping narcissism and a group of followers who lap up the bedpans of the aforementioned narcissists. Further segmentation is unavoidable.
The fringe
The its
The bums
The bees
As I enter the room I breathe in the questions of an outsider. Who is fucking who? Who is fucked on what? Who knows who?
….Who cares?
The pack does not have a distinguishable leader but it could easily be dissected into two groups: a group of individuals dripping narcissism and a group of followers who lap up the bedpans of the aforementioned narcissists. Further segmentation is unavoidable.
The fringe
The its
The bums
The bees
As I enter the room I breathe in the questions of an outsider. Who is fucking who? Who is fucked on what? Who knows who?
….Who cares?
An Ode to 'I'
Q. What am ‘I’?
A. The flux of consciousness constituting itself as the
a) unity of itself
b) ‘who’ is what he is not and the ‘who’ is not what he is
Thus ‘I’ is not what at any instant they might want to say I am. I am that towards which I project myself but am not yet.
[Jean-Paul Satre’s L’etre et le Neant has to be the most convoluted book I’ve ever read and I remember that after having leafed through half of it, the above was what I had to jot down so that I had a platform from which to approach what he was going on about… needless to say knowing ‘I’ did not help in knowing JPS]
PS: in no way am I trying to insinuate that I am ‘The Who’.
A. The flux of consciousness constituting itself as the
a) unity of itself
b) ‘who’ is what he is not and the ‘who’ is not what he is
Thus ‘I’ is not what at any instant they might want to say I am. I am that towards which I project myself but am not yet.
[Jean-Paul Satre’s L’etre et le Neant has to be the most convoluted book I’ve ever read and I remember that after having leafed through half of it, the above was what I had to jot down so that I had a platform from which to approach what he was going on about… needless to say knowing ‘I’ did not help in knowing JPS]
PS: in no way am I trying to insinuate that I am ‘The Who’.
An Ode to 'You'
“your memory is a composition written for performance by the human mind”
Boca
“My darling anything you wish, anything I am, anything I can ever be… that’s what I want to offer you- not the things I’ll get for you, but the thing in me that will make me able to get them. That thing- a man cant renounce it- but I want to renounce it- so that it will be yours- so that it will be in your service- only for you.”
GW (F.head)
“your absence has gone through me
Like thread to needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its colour”
Separation by W.S. Merwin
Boca
“My darling anything you wish, anything I am, anything I can ever be… that’s what I want to offer you- not the things I’ll get for you, but the thing in me that will make me able to get them. That thing- a man cant renounce it- but I want to renounce it- so that it will be yours- so that it will be in your service- only for you.”
GW (F.head)
“your absence has gone through me
Like thread to needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its colour”
Separation by W.S. Merwin
Friday, April 21, 2006
You without the trimmings
I just stumbled upon a behemoth of an epiphany recently while devouring ‘the fountainhead’ by Ayn Rand. It was a book intent on uncovering a simple manner of approaching complex situations… I liken it to a marriage terms: Simplexity. It was crazy how at times we need to digest something in a tangible form to find words for the thoughts that one holds inside. I recommend the book for all and the central characters of Howard Roark, Peter & Dominique provide a perfect spectrum of outlooks that we are laden with. Agreed they might be the extreme examples of it, but nonetheless I assume we need extremes to be able to understand the subtleties of ourselves. Not making too much sense, but then again it will, if you read the book.
Here’s an excerpt of Dominique’s
“People want nothing but mirrors around them. To reflect them while they’re reflecting too. You know, like the infinite senselessness you get from two mirrors facing each other across a narrow passage. Reflections of reflections. Echoes of echoes. No beginning and no end. No center & no purpose. I am what you want me to be. I don’t go sprouting book reviews to hide my emptiness of judgment [irony knows no bounds]- I say I have no judgment. I don’t borrow designs to hide my creative impotence- I create nothing. I am you without the trimmings.”
Here’s an excerpt of Dominique’s
“People want nothing but mirrors around them. To reflect them while they’re reflecting too. You know, like the infinite senselessness you get from two mirrors facing each other across a narrow passage. Reflections of reflections. Echoes of echoes. No beginning and no end. No center & no purpose. I am what you want me to be. I don’t go sprouting book reviews to hide my emptiness of judgment [irony knows no bounds]- I say I have no judgment. I don’t borrow designs to hide my creative impotence- I create nothing. I am you without the trimmings.”
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Iraq...the captives... the captors
There have been many kidnappings in Iraq over the course of three years. These kidnappings have subsequently increased as the lack of the law's overarching arm becomes apparent. A practice that not many can approve of no matter of which religion or if htey were pro war or anti- war. Roping in innocent civilians to pay the price of modern day colonialists, aka the coalition forces, the resistance movement is harming its own cause and slowly pouring a corrosive stream of uncalled for blood on the global sympathy that Iraq's resistance movement could initially ellicit. The clippings from Al-Jazeera usually showed the captives in a deplorable condition and the tape usually ended in a gruesome manner. Maybe it was the pent up angst of the occupied having no avenue of expression, or maybe the earlier spat of kidnappings were meant to document the hallow victories to spur on the movement. who knows?
But with the recent release of two captives of a christianity orientated NGO and that of Jill Carol (a reporter) the mujahadeen finally seem to be utilizing media and confronting widespread perceptions, be it knowingly or not. Jill Carol's recent statements lauding the treatment she received at the hands of her captives does more good to their captives' cause than the hundreds of beheadings previously aired. The recents statements by the Brit and Canadian freed by the coalition forces conspicuously did not contain any gratitude nor did they belittle their captors. Maybe the Mujahadeen are beginning to catch on: kidnap people, treat them nicely, have them slandor the coalition forces, and use the extensive media coverage of each rescue to spread the word... not all people involved in the resistance movement are terrorists. not all of them are crude backward people with no respect for life or the intrinsics of humanity. who knows. maybe it was planned. maybe they got an image consultant.
well whatever the case these frequent kidnapping are still doing more harm than good and in no way am i siding with the kidnappers. besides the majority of kidnappings taking place presently seem to have an underlying financial motive as opposed to ideological. i guess it should make some Americans happy... the seeds of capitalism have definately been sowed.
But with the recent release of two captives of a christianity orientated NGO and that of Jill Carol (a reporter) the mujahadeen finally seem to be utilizing media and confronting widespread perceptions, be it knowingly or not. Jill Carol's recent statements lauding the treatment she received at the hands of her captives does more good to their captives' cause than the hundreds of beheadings previously aired. The recents statements by the Brit and Canadian freed by the coalition forces conspicuously did not contain any gratitude nor did they belittle their captors. Maybe the Mujahadeen are beginning to catch on: kidnap people, treat them nicely, have them slandor the coalition forces, and use the extensive media coverage of each rescue to spread the word... not all people involved in the resistance movement are terrorists. not all of them are crude backward people with no respect for life or the intrinsics of humanity. who knows. maybe it was planned. maybe they got an image consultant.
well whatever the case these frequent kidnapping are still doing more harm than good and in no way am i siding with the kidnappers. besides the majority of kidnappings taking place presently seem to have an underlying financial motive as opposed to ideological. i guess it should make some Americans happy... the seeds of capitalism have definately been sowed.
Monday, March 27, 2006
a handful of sand
Man usually takes a handful of sand from the endless landscape of awareness around him, and calls that handful of sand the world. Once he has that handful of sand, the world of which he is conscious, a process of discrimination goes to work whereby he defines his realities, his needs, his wants and his prejudices...
I decided today that enough is enough. I am going to grab two handfuls of sand from the coast of Cape Town and watch the sand slowly slip through my fingers... finally managed to prioritize this life o mine.
I decided today that enough is enough. I am going to grab two handfuls of sand from the coast of Cape Town and watch the sand slowly slip through my fingers... finally managed to prioritize this life o mine.
Aural Elitism
I don’t know if it’s the marketer in me but have you all noticed how one can come across a group of people and start to subliminally classify them in one group or another. Helped with the numerous stereo-types that litter or lives its becoming harder and harder not to slot a person into a pre-conceived mould. Appearances, mannerisms, lifestyle, hobbies… the list is endless. It’s not something a person is usually proud of, but being judgmental is one of those traits God made sure all of us were endowed with. Or maybe not. I don’t know, maybe I am just trying to justify my own form of snobbery.
Well it’s a hard thing to confess but I’m a aural elitist. In my defense I am sure you have it in you too. Music somehow transcends normal art forms since it combines the visual (music videos), aural, as well as the written forms of expression. It’s a harmonious marriage of all three, and thus I view it as a barometer of what people would be like. You know how it works, “you listen to Pet-shop Boys?!! Are you stuck in the eighties, have you not discovered the new millennium??!! Are you gay?’… so many question and the only answer is the forgettable tune of pet shop boys trying to remix ‘where the streets have no name’. Its just that there seems to be a certain level of snobbery as far as music is concerned. Mainstream acts, such as bon jovi, backstreet boys, britney, etc. do not seem to elicit the acknowledgement that niche acts such as Prince and Alicia Keys seem to evoke. It’s a small thing, but it goes a long way in helping one to come to terms with their insecurities. Its OK to like something that gets airplay on MTV. Its okay to like something that your 13 year old sister likes. Don’t be ashamed. Embrace it.
Why bother even thinking about such a mundane insignificant thing aye? Let me explain… I was lounging on the couch casually flicking through the channels and Christina Aguilera’s ‘Beautiful’ happened to be on… a beautiful song I must admit, but its kind of hard to embrace the innate beauty of the message when you have a friend sitting there who believes anything on MTV is ‘corporate’ and another friend who is just waiting to pounce on the chink in the my armor of indie, lounge and alternative music. Tuff stuff. Maybe I am just too caught up with appearances, but hell I overcame. Kuuumbaya my lord ! maybe we all just need to care less about what we project and learn to object to the system that we all seem to be caught up in. just remember
You are beauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutiful no matter what they say.
Well it’s a hard thing to confess but I’m a aural elitist. In my defense I am sure you have it in you too. Music somehow transcends normal art forms since it combines the visual (music videos), aural, as well as the written forms of expression. It’s a harmonious marriage of all three, and thus I view it as a barometer of what people would be like. You know how it works, “you listen to Pet-shop Boys?!! Are you stuck in the eighties, have you not discovered the new millennium??!! Are you gay?’… so many question and the only answer is the forgettable tune of pet shop boys trying to remix ‘where the streets have no name’. Its just that there seems to be a certain level of snobbery as far as music is concerned. Mainstream acts, such as bon jovi, backstreet boys, britney, etc. do not seem to elicit the acknowledgement that niche acts such as Prince and Alicia Keys seem to evoke. It’s a small thing, but it goes a long way in helping one to come to terms with their insecurities. Its OK to like something that gets airplay on MTV. Its okay to like something that your 13 year old sister likes. Don’t be ashamed. Embrace it.
Why bother even thinking about such a mundane insignificant thing aye? Let me explain… I was lounging on the couch casually flicking through the channels and Christina Aguilera’s ‘Beautiful’ happened to be on… a beautiful song I must admit, but its kind of hard to embrace the innate beauty of the message when you have a friend sitting there who believes anything on MTV is ‘corporate’ and another friend who is just waiting to pounce on the chink in the my armor of indie, lounge and alternative music. Tuff stuff. Maybe I am just too caught up with appearances, but hell I overcame. Kuuumbaya my lord ! maybe we all just need to care less about what we project and learn to object to the system that we all seem to be caught up in. just remember
You are beauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutiful no matter what they say.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Third Culture Kids
I was scouring the net recently and came across the following definition of a term 'third culture kids'. I didnt know that suc ha term existed but after reading the definition thought it to be an apt definition of what the new age global youth of today goes through... or if not that than atleasta perfect encapsulation of what goes through the mind of a 'diplobrat'
Third Culture Kids (abbreviated TCKs) is a term for children who have lived a significant portion of their lives in a country that is not their passport country, usually because of parents' work obligations. A synonym for this is "global nomad." Examples include military brats, the children of diplomats, children of business expatriates ("business brats"), international school educators kids, and Missionary Kids.TCKs share some common characteristics amongst the sub categories such as multilingualism, tolerance for other cultures, a never-ending feeling of homesickness for their adopted country and a desire to remain in close contact with friends from their adopted country as well as other TCKs that they have grown up with.Many TCKs take years to readjust to their home countries and often suffer a reverse culture shock on their return to their homeland. There are some online resources to help TCKs deal with issues as well as stay in contact with each other.The term third culture kid was coined by Ruth Hill Useem in the early 1960s. She and her husband studied children who grew up in two or more cultures (including their own children) and termed them simply "third culture kids". Their idea was that children from one culture who live in another culture become part of a "third culture" that is more than simply a blend of home and host cultures.Children (and adults) of the third culture share similar identities. Useem defined a third culture kid as"[A] person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents' culture. The third culture kid builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any. Although elements from each culture are assimilated into the third culture kid's life experience, the sense of belonging is in relationship to others of the same background." (Pollock & van Reken, 2001, p. 19)Two circumstances are key to becoming a third culture kid: growing up in a truly cross-cultural world, and high mobility. By the former, Pollock and van Reken mean that instead of observing cultures, third culture kids actually live in different cultural worlds. By mobility, they mean mobility of both the third culture kid and others in their surrounding. The interplay between the two is what gives rise to common personal characteristics, benefits, and challenges. TCKs are distinguished from other immigrants by the fact that TCKs do not expect to settle down permanently in the places where they live.Third culture kids grow up in a genuinely cross-cultural world. While expatriates watch and study cultures that they live in, third culture kids actually live in different cultural worlds. Third culture kids have incorporated different cultures on the deepest level, as to have several cultures incorporated into their thought processes. This means that third culture kids not only have deep cultural access to at least two cultures, this also means that thought processes are truly multicultural. That, in turn, influences how third culture kids relate to the world around them, and makes third culture kids' thought processes different even from members of cultures they have deep-level access to. TCKs also have certain personal characteristics in common. Growing up in the third culture rewards certain behaviors and personality traits in different ways than growing up in a single culture does, which results in common characteristics. Third culture kids are often tolerant cultural chameleons who can choose to what degree they wish to display their background.
Third Culture Kids (abbreviated TCKs) is a term for children who have lived a significant portion of their lives in a country that is not their passport country, usually because of parents' work obligations. A synonym for this is "global nomad." Examples include military brats, the children of diplomats, children of business expatriates ("business brats"), international school educators kids, and Missionary Kids.TCKs share some common characteristics amongst the sub categories such as multilingualism, tolerance for other cultures, a never-ending feeling of homesickness for their adopted country and a desire to remain in close contact with friends from their adopted country as well as other TCKs that they have grown up with.Many TCKs take years to readjust to their home countries and often suffer a reverse culture shock on their return to their homeland. There are some online resources to help TCKs deal with issues as well as stay in contact with each other.The term third culture kid was coined by Ruth Hill Useem in the early 1960s. She and her husband studied children who grew up in two or more cultures (including their own children) and termed them simply "third culture kids". Their idea was that children from one culture who live in another culture become part of a "third culture" that is more than simply a blend of home and host cultures.Children (and adults) of the third culture share similar identities. Useem defined a third culture kid as"[A] person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents' culture. The third culture kid builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any. Although elements from each culture are assimilated into the third culture kid's life experience, the sense of belonging is in relationship to others of the same background." (Pollock & van Reken, 2001, p. 19)Two circumstances are key to becoming a third culture kid: growing up in a truly cross-cultural world, and high mobility. By the former, Pollock and van Reken mean that instead of observing cultures, third culture kids actually live in different cultural worlds. By mobility, they mean mobility of both the third culture kid and others in their surrounding. The interplay between the two is what gives rise to common personal characteristics, benefits, and challenges. TCKs are distinguished from other immigrants by the fact that TCKs do not expect to settle down permanently in the places where they live.Third culture kids grow up in a genuinely cross-cultural world. While expatriates watch and study cultures that they live in, third culture kids actually live in different cultural worlds. Third culture kids have incorporated different cultures on the deepest level, as to have several cultures incorporated into their thought processes. This means that third culture kids not only have deep cultural access to at least two cultures, this also means that thought processes are truly multicultural. That, in turn, influences how third culture kids relate to the world around them, and makes third culture kids' thought processes different even from members of cultures they have deep-level access to. TCKs also have certain personal characteristics in common. Growing up in the third culture rewards certain behaviors and personality traits in different ways than growing up in a single culture does, which results in common characteristics. Third culture kids are often tolerant cultural chameleons who can choose to what degree they wish to display their background.
captilasim + creativity = CAPTIVITY
Well let me confess... till about a month back I was engrossed in the poster child industry of the big bad capitalistic world. Incase there is any ambiguity let me clarify: advertising. below were some of my thoughts about the industry as it is in Pakistan
Selling thoughts, visualizing concepts, unearthing U.S.P.s: welcome to the wicked world of advertising, where the hustle and bustle of everyday life manifests itself in every minute action. For many a year advertising has been presented as the pretty face of corporate America. Hollywood has taken it upon itself to depict advertising as the glam job that everyone should scurry after, and for once, they aren’t too far from the truth. It is glamorous. It is exciting. But, unfortunately (or fortunately) it also requires one’s blood and sweat. A point that ‘What women want’ and the numerous other films made, seem to ignore.
In fact, if we were to take realism as a required principle, then advertising in Pakistan can be liken to the charms of S & M, where the caustic responses of clients and the constraints of grids, client policies and inadequacies fuel a fire burning in the eyes of all those involved within the industry. Despite the pain, one continues on this journey hoping that he or she might enjoy that orgasm of having their work approved. Those elusive approvals that require an animal like courting process to entice, arouse and mate with the idealistic bullshit that clients always seem to have.
Many a person involved in the industry has skipped several stages in Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs (due to the lack of sleep, time, etc) and ended up in the welcoming arms of self-realization. A stage at which we realize that advertising does not fall within the constraints of love or hate, a stage where we need not contemplate; whether to love is a waste or if to hate the accompanying hassles is to surrender. Instead one realizes that advertising is simply an addiction.
The freedom of thought that one is allowed to revel in, the ability to always have a source of countless obscenities and simply the unpredictability of it all are the defining characteristics of the field. To label the aforementioned as the pros and cons of the business is not possible since these are as interchangeable as are the people who develop these million dollar brands. The more one examines this business of subliminal persuasion the more one realizes that it provides an escape. An escape from the 9 to 5 desk job that those on the peripheries of creative oblivion crave, where sitting at your desk the whole day is a sign of inactivity. Having to interact with all walks of life, advertising provides the best kind of exposure that one could hope for. A pill for the ego and a solution for the catharsis of daily life.
The evil system within which the client agency relationship lies ensures that all those involved with account management become ‘cheetahs’ as they try and overcome the restraints of a perennial obstacle (a.k.a. the client). The account management’s interaction with the client is akin to a dependant child interacting with his parents. The kid can kick and scream, but he knows that at the end of the day the parents put the roof over his head and the pay the bills. At least parents know what is good for you. The management department spells a life of writing contact reports and acting as a glorified delivery man, it seems bleak a , but somehow or another it provides the most opportunity for career growth.
Creatives have the unenviable task of trying to find ‘purpose’ in a fifty pesa[2] price reduction. Writing jingles, TVC storyboards, mood-boards and body copies the whole day, it’s a surprise they still have the will to talk at the end of the day. Alas, life. The poor art department trying to visually symbolize a service, always the first to be criticized and the last to be acknowledged. The golden field of advertising is actually a misrepresented block of lead trying to stay afloat in the turbulent waters of a society who does not recognize or reward their efforts, ideas or creativity.
Creativity in its altruistic form is cited as the objective in every campaign brief, but when presented is stated as being too ‘out of the box’. A fine balance, where a vision softly creeps and people talk without speaking. A twisted nirvana where people hear without listening and people write ads that voices never share for the fear of disturbing the peace of their dozing CEOs. Present, note, change, present, note, change, present, finalize: the product life cycle of a concept.
Nevertheless despite all its shortcomings, advertising provides a release. The sheer joy of knowing you are mingling with those in the loop, and doing a job with substantial seeable results ensure that job satisfaction remains relatively high. Despite the prevalence of the unprofessional, the industry best mimics the market environment of the West. Low job security, high rewards and rapid career growth. Some may feel this blurb to be highly opinionated and it would be a claim hard to contest. It is biased. It is supposed to be. The voice of an industry wronged has been subdued for too long. Having spoken the words of clients for so long it bodes well to discover one’s own. Call it the marriage of pure ingenuity and the tainted world of capitalism. Define it as captilasim + creativity = CAPTIVITY. By choice and willingly…it engulfs.
Selling thoughts, visualizing concepts, unearthing U.S.P.s: welcome to the wicked world of advertising, where the hustle and bustle of everyday life manifests itself in every minute action. For many a year advertising has been presented as the pretty face of corporate America. Hollywood has taken it upon itself to depict advertising as the glam job that everyone should scurry after, and for once, they aren’t too far from the truth. It is glamorous. It is exciting. But, unfortunately (or fortunately) it also requires one’s blood and sweat. A point that ‘What women want’ and the numerous other films made, seem to ignore.
In fact, if we were to take realism as a required principle, then advertising in Pakistan can be liken to the charms of S & M, where the caustic responses of clients and the constraints of grids, client policies and inadequacies fuel a fire burning in the eyes of all those involved within the industry. Despite the pain, one continues on this journey hoping that he or she might enjoy that orgasm of having their work approved. Those elusive approvals that require an animal like courting process to entice, arouse and mate with the idealistic bullshit that clients always seem to have.
Many a person involved in the industry has skipped several stages in Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs (due to the lack of sleep, time, etc) and ended up in the welcoming arms of self-realization. A stage at which we realize that advertising does not fall within the constraints of love or hate, a stage where we need not contemplate; whether to love is a waste or if to hate the accompanying hassles is to surrender. Instead one realizes that advertising is simply an addiction.
The freedom of thought that one is allowed to revel in, the ability to always have a source of countless obscenities and simply the unpredictability of it all are the defining characteristics of the field. To label the aforementioned as the pros and cons of the business is not possible since these are as interchangeable as are the people who develop these million dollar brands. The more one examines this business of subliminal persuasion the more one realizes that it provides an escape. An escape from the 9 to 5 desk job that those on the peripheries of creative oblivion crave, where sitting at your desk the whole day is a sign of inactivity. Having to interact with all walks of life, advertising provides the best kind of exposure that one could hope for. A pill for the ego and a solution for the catharsis of daily life.
The evil system within which the client agency relationship lies ensures that all those involved with account management become ‘cheetahs’ as they try and overcome the restraints of a perennial obstacle (a.k.a. the client). The account management’s interaction with the client is akin to a dependant child interacting with his parents. The kid can kick and scream, but he knows that at the end of the day the parents put the roof over his head and the pay the bills. At least parents know what is good for you. The management department spells a life of writing contact reports and acting as a glorified delivery man, it seems bleak a , but somehow or another it provides the most opportunity for career growth.
Creatives have the unenviable task of trying to find ‘purpose’ in a fifty pesa[2] price reduction. Writing jingles, TVC storyboards, mood-boards and body copies the whole day, it’s a surprise they still have the will to talk at the end of the day. Alas, life. The poor art department trying to visually symbolize a service, always the first to be criticized and the last to be acknowledged. The golden field of advertising is actually a misrepresented block of lead trying to stay afloat in the turbulent waters of a society who does not recognize or reward their efforts, ideas or creativity.
Creativity in its altruistic form is cited as the objective in every campaign brief, but when presented is stated as being too ‘out of the box’. A fine balance, where a vision softly creeps and people talk without speaking. A twisted nirvana where people hear without listening and people write ads that voices never share for the fear of disturbing the peace of their dozing CEOs. Present, note, change, present, note, change, present, finalize: the product life cycle of a concept.
Nevertheless despite all its shortcomings, advertising provides a release. The sheer joy of knowing you are mingling with those in the loop, and doing a job with substantial seeable results ensure that job satisfaction remains relatively high. Despite the prevalence of the unprofessional, the industry best mimics the market environment of the West. Low job security, high rewards and rapid career growth. Some may feel this blurb to be highly opinionated and it would be a claim hard to contest. It is biased. It is supposed to be. The voice of an industry wronged has been subdued for too long. Having spoken the words of clients for so long it bodes well to discover one’s own. Call it the marriage of pure ingenuity and the tainted world of capitalism. Define it as captilasim + creativity = CAPTIVITY. By choice and willingly…it engulfs.
Lenon revisited
Imagine there's no heaven,
It's easy if you try,
No hell below us, Above us only sky,
Imagine all the people, living for today...
Before beginning to embark on my sabbatical of a rant let me give credence to my point of view. I am an idealistic college brat who came back to Islamabad, to froth at the mouth, oppose all, criticize all, whilst unsurprisingly lacking the courage to follow through on my half formulated ideas. Thus I write, hoping that it might quench the pangs I have for change.
The need for change is dire and for the sake of there us a never-ending list of everything that our society must eliminate to be able to mould itself into the utopia that Plato envisioned whilst writing ‘The Republik’. Nevertheless the sustenance and/or growth of nepotism, bribery, corruption and numerous other vices that plague Pakistan can not be tackled alone. We must unite and restore the societal norms that we could once look up to and be proud to follow. With each passing year qualities that once distinguished the East from the West are slowly being eroded by external factors such as the media, the corrupt elite as well as our government which for some reason or another, despite is numerous manifestations, never seems to do anything different.
Maybe to hope is too farfetched, or so I am told. Idealism is admittedly a perspective rooted in the clouds, yet it provides the only exit in this maze of dead ends. Be realistic: a recurring statement, albeit one long ignored. To great extents one must go to ensure that the revolution of the mind is not pacified by one word not ignored. Realism.
Political science has long been dichotomised between two distinct levels of analysis: idealism and realism. It has been said that idealism allows one to dream about how the world should be and then take an approach mimicking reverse engineering to decipher the events of the past and present. Realism, on the other hand is more about documenting incidents as opposed to deciphering them… one cannot hope for progress and factual interpretation without both approaches permeating our mindsets.
Despite Pakistan being the manifestation of a dream, it is veering dangerously off course. Harsh realities, overpowering societal norms are beginning to sideline idealism, moulding us into a monotonous lot of middle income families trying to emulate the lives of the squealing Gucci piggies of the precious elite. One must realise that money is not everything… one must realise that capitalism need not be the right answer…one must not be afraid to question that which surrounds us. Challenging the status quo and overcoming the slithering serpent of reality which slowly chokes all aspirations is the only manner in which Pakistan can change into a progressive country with progressive policies. Changes must be made, and to make these changes people must believe. I argue not against the system or being realistic yet I remain steadfast in upholding our right to dream.
If we dream, the bonded labourer will not be resigned to his fate. If we dream, that same labourer might endure the hardships that are associated with sending his children to school. If we dream, social stagnancy can be combated and overcome within a generation. A possibility? It was in a number of other countries in the region, but in Pakistan dreams are nothing but a precious commodity for those who need them most. Instead of promoting change our bourgeoisie crust does everything in its power to hamper the empowerment of our minds by maintaining the status quo that is purely for the purpose of self-benefit.
Optimistic by nature, idealists set utopian like standards that, in optimal conditions, are near impossible to achieve. Nevertheless, the futile exercise provides a goal towards which society can work. One must remember that, in their time, a wide variety of people such as the Wright brothers, Einstein, etc were considered idealists. Now we herald them as scientific revolutionaries. What I mean to convey is; if everyone was a realist, society would become stagnant.
After adequately stoking the flames you might question, “What exactly are we supposed to dream about?”… If so, then it brings one to question “Can we no longer dream? Do we now need to dream about dreaming?” Therein lays the fundamental change that needs to take place and only then can a society aspire to tackle the vices stated earlier.
You may say I'm a dreamer,
but I'm not the only one,
I hope some day you will join us,
And the world will live as one
It's easy if you try,
No hell below us, Above us only sky,
Imagine all the people, living for today...
Before beginning to embark on my sabbatical of a rant let me give credence to my point of view. I am an idealistic college brat who came back to Islamabad, to froth at the mouth, oppose all, criticize all, whilst unsurprisingly lacking the courage to follow through on my half formulated ideas. Thus I write, hoping that it might quench the pangs I have for change.
The need for change is dire and for the sake of there us a never-ending list of everything that our society must eliminate to be able to mould itself into the utopia that Plato envisioned whilst writing ‘The Republik’. Nevertheless the sustenance and/or growth of nepotism, bribery, corruption and numerous other vices that plague Pakistan can not be tackled alone. We must unite and restore the societal norms that we could once look up to and be proud to follow. With each passing year qualities that once distinguished the East from the West are slowly being eroded by external factors such as the media, the corrupt elite as well as our government which for some reason or another, despite is numerous manifestations, never seems to do anything different.
Maybe to hope is too farfetched, or so I am told. Idealism is admittedly a perspective rooted in the clouds, yet it provides the only exit in this maze of dead ends. Be realistic: a recurring statement, albeit one long ignored. To great extents one must go to ensure that the revolution of the mind is not pacified by one word not ignored. Realism.
Political science has long been dichotomised between two distinct levels of analysis: idealism and realism. It has been said that idealism allows one to dream about how the world should be and then take an approach mimicking reverse engineering to decipher the events of the past and present. Realism, on the other hand is more about documenting incidents as opposed to deciphering them… one cannot hope for progress and factual interpretation without both approaches permeating our mindsets.
Despite Pakistan being the manifestation of a dream, it is veering dangerously off course. Harsh realities, overpowering societal norms are beginning to sideline idealism, moulding us into a monotonous lot of middle income families trying to emulate the lives of the squealing Gucci piggies of the precious elite. One must realise that money is not everything… one must realise that capitalism need not be the right answer…one must not be afraid to question that which surrounds us. Challenging the status quo and overcoming the slithering serpent of reality which slowly chokes all aspirations is the only manner in which Pakistan can change into a progressive country with progressive policies. Changes must be made, and to make these changes people must believe. I argue not against the system or being realistic yet I remain steadfast in upholding our right to dream.
If we dream, the bonded labourer will not be resigned to his fate. If we dream, that same labourer might endure the hardships that are associated with sending his children to school. If we dream, social stagnancy can be combated and overcome within a generation. A possibility? It was in a number of other countries in the region, but in Pakistan dreams are nothing but a precious commodity for those who need them most. Instead of promoting change our bourgeoisie crust does everything in its power to hamper the empowerment of our minds by maintaining the status quo that is purely for the purpose of self-benefit.
Optimistic by nature, idealists set utopian like standards that, in optimal conditions, are near impossible to achieve. Nevertheless, the futile exercise provides a goal towards which society can work. One must remember that, in their time, a wide variety of people such as the Wright brothers, Einstein, etc were considered idealists. Now we herald them as scientific revolutionaries. What I mean to convey is; if everyone was a realist, society would become stagnant.
After adequately stoking the flames you might question, “What exactly are we supposed to dream about?”… If so, then it brings one to question “Can we no longer dream? Do we now need to dream about dreaming?” Therein lays the fundamental change that needs to take place and only then can a society aspire to tackle the vices stated earlier.
You may say I'm a dreamer,
but I'm not the only one,
I hope some day you will join us,
And the world will live as one
ABCD: derogatory or a compliment?
Sure we might be more Westernized now, seemingly moving in new directions, not seen before, but, ideas, people and movements that challenged the status quo were unfortunately a thing of the past. Gone are the years of Saadeqain, Nazia and Zoheb, Alpha Bravo & Charlie, where one was not afraid to create as oppose to present; the era of revolutionaries. Instead we have a generation of a capitalistic foot-soldiers wearing mundane ties, the mark of well accepted new age slavery. They will refurbish, they will repackage, they shall present, but creation longs to be cited as a form of differentiation. For years Pakistan’s elite and middle class were comatose with a cultural stagnancy unparalleled in the years of yonder. This stagnancy is now being traded in as Pakistan’s middle to upper income bracket mirrors a drink being stirred into a whirlpool, coming perilously close to spilling over. With a widening gap between the rich and the poor, two parallel societies are developing with distinct societal, spending and buying patterns. Ostentatious by nature the rich are beginning to become more brazen in terms of flaunting their wealth: houses are becoming larger, television screens thinner, NAB (National Accountability Bureau) sightings rising and cars more luxurious. A new culture aping the West emerges, where being called an ABCD (a common acronym used liberally to describe the American Born Confused Desis) does not carry the negative connotations it previously held. “Hell I’m confused, and proud of it!” a common thought permeating mindsets all over. As this parallel society develops, cultural norms are becoming the primary battlefront of differentiation. Cultural mainstays such as ‘jigger’, ‘pundi’, and ‘soot’ (among many others) that used to cut across economic divides are now being traded in by the more fortunate. Instead we’ve got an elite of ‘dawgs’ who ‘chill’ and scope out the fine ‘booty or chicita or fit birds or senoritas’ at the many ‘hangouts’ blossoming in every city. Nevertheless the above is no revelation. This phenomenon has been observed by any and everybody, so let me talk of the dawgs no more. Instead let’s talk of those with karma; let’s explore the new niche. Due to an emerging middle class which happens to be quite sizable, the elite have lost their form of differentiation. We’re all dawgs aren’t we, and we all go to the Hotspots, the Zouks and the Café Alantos, so what is so special about that. Exclusivity is truly a thing of the past. Or so one is led to believe. Hmmm. Since elitism is dated, the uuber elite are reverting to the basics, albeit in a form distinctively desi. Sure they still have their Pajeros and their Mercs but no longer do we need to listen to 50 cent to be ‘in’. Instead we witness the rise of fusion, as well its foremost practitioners. Buddha-Bar, Talvin Singh, Rishi Rich, Imran Khan ;), ABCD, *the wicked restaurant near hera mundi Lahore*, etc ensure that our elite no longer have to be ashamed to be who they are. They flaunt their ethnicity to those who know it best and assume that they’ve figured it out. Maybe one is putting too much emphasis on categorization and the concept of being ‘in’ but alas, it oddly still seems to ring true. Somehow a larger percentage of the elite seem to be reverting to their bohemian state, drinking special herbal teas, practicing yoga and viewing movies bringing the problems of globalization to the forefront (monsoon wedding, bollywood Hollywood, etc). Hell who cares, I'm a bohemian dawg, here there and nowhere. Stuck in the middle of everywhere with a smoke in one hand and my guide to rediscovering Pakistan in the other. So where do we go from now and where are we coming from? Its difficult to answer a question still formulating, for such is the rate of societal development. The only answer which I could possibly conjure is… real time commentary.
South Africa: a first glance
Having moved to South Africa about a month ago, it was interesting to observe how a country that had the unfortunate label of being the world’s last practitioner of segregation and apartheid, had come along. Although I had yet to uncloak the ugly shroud of ethnocentrism, I had to delve back in time to see where the journey began and try an extrapolate where it would end. The journey began in 1992. De Klerk, the last bastion of white supremacy had to cede power to Mandela and his political party. The voice of the people had spoken, and the years of international condemnation were taking their toll. So the process started. Sounds easy aye? Give the power to the ‘blacks’. Alas some-things are a bitch to implement. Luckily African National Congress’s (also known as Mandela’s ANC) concerted efforts to sweep in broad institutional changes, have resulted in ground realities making a remarkable leap since 1992. Their emphasis on programs such as ‘equal opportunity’, social welfare and education have done their bit in negating some of the effects of the previous rulers but alas resentment is foreseeable by-product amongst the Afrikaaners (the ‘white’ descendents of Dutch colonialists) who are trying to come to terms with their diminished role. Although resentment is present amongst the right-wing contingent of the Afrikaaners, what struck me as humanity at its best were the ‘black’s’ concerted efforts at reconciliation. Given the treatment that was doled out to them ever since the arrival of the Dutch and British I had assumed that the ‘blacks’ would have done their bit to make at least a bit of retribution, or if nothing else, take advantage of the spoils of power. But alas, Manelda and Desmond Tutu’s conviction ensured that a ‘reconciliation council’ was set up to specifically tackle the issues that might arise when a previously subjugated population is in the position to do something to a former subjugator. Needless to say both men are Nobel peace prize winners (they sure know how to pick them don’t they?). The vision of these leaders ensured that the climate in the country did not digress into violence… a scenario that seemed very likely. Instead the emphasis on reconciliation resulted in a progressive outlook from which the most holistic and humanitarian constitution was born. South Africa quickly embraced the open arms of international legitimacy and due to its ability to overcome difficulties, South Africa became a regional leader. BUT the remnants of years of agitation have not disappeared. Crime is rampant. Literacy is still low. HIV is a spreading at an unprecedented rate… and many many more. But there better off that they could have been considering that they started this journey only fourteen years ago.
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