Self / persona

A lot of serious scientific work in pragmatics, philosophy and comics has preoccupied itself with this issue: the need of a alter ego. Apparently, the self need not just be divided to body and soul, the good old Platonic distinction. It can also be divided to a self and a persona. This distinction need not worry us in a philosophical way. Instead we might think about it in every day terms: what does it mean to say that every one of us has (or needs to have) a self and a persona. And do we need to have just one persona, or could we also have more?

I guess this is where comic-books and superheroes become relevant. The substance of every superhero is the fact that he is a normal (usually geeky, run-of-the-mill, unassuming) person, a person that no-one would ever think has anything to do with superpowers, and then he/she also has this other life, this other part of his character that transpires through his/her masked persona. And the important question here is, why do we need a mask to bring our personas to life? Is the persona mutually exclusive with our everyday, socially acceptable image?

The other important question is of course whether we all need this self / persona distinction in our lives. Do we all need this because our socially acceptable self is suffocating and we need something to help us break off some steam? Can we only function within these restricting lives that we lead, only if we have a persona, be it just a crazy girl who dances a lot in weekends?

I think we do. People are multi-faceted entities, they have a lot of layers (like Shakespeare always liked to illustrate) and their lives can only let them show so much. It is only in the freedom of a mask, in the freedom of an alter ego that we can only be free.

What's your alter ego?

Art imitates life imitates art

Slumdog millionaire is a rag-to-riches story, a movie about a boy from the slums that goes on to win a million rupees and the woman of his dreams. Slumdog millionaire, the movie itself, is a rag-to-riches story of a movie that was supposed to go straight to DVD, a movie that was not picked up by any distribution company in the US until it was shown to the Toronto festival, was then adored by the crowd and only then was picked up and distributed in cinemas in the US and ended up received 8 oscars this year, including the one of best movie. Life imitates art, as it is supposed to be (and not the other way round).

The Wrestler is a movie about a wrestler, played by Mickey Rourke, who used to be great and is now no longer on top of his game. Mickey Rourke is an actor who was at the top of his game, then lost it all, only to be reborn (artistically and perhaps personally) through the movie 'The Wrestler'. Art imitates life, as it is supposed to be (and not the other way round).

Mickey Rourke did not get Slumdog's Oscars happily ever after, Sean Penn (who has no relevance with the topic of this post whatsoever) did instead.

Slumdog's producers were criticized that they exploited the children actors from the slums, by not paying them enough. To close the nasty mouths, they brought the slums at the Oscars and they all celebrated Slumdog's big win, appropriately together on stage, in true Indian style. They did *not* burst into a Bollywood sing and dance, much to the producers' dismay. But, sarcasm aside, they did show that movies are made by a crew and a cast that all deserve to accept their award, together.

Can anyone make a movie imitating that?

'Old' is the new 'new'

I found this bag in the bottom of my closet the other day and I couldn't believe it. Some time ago I loved it and wore it every day and now, I have forgotten its existence. When I saw it, it felt like I was buying it all over again, it felt like it was new. I put it on then, and went out, and felt like it was the newest thing ever. And then my weekly urge of shopping suddenly went away. I felt that my craving was satisfied for this week, because I had found this bag. It felt that my bag was new and exiting and shouldn't be overshadowed by anything else this week.

This post could be just about that: how we don't need to buy new things if we look closely in our closets. But I think there is an interesting Freudian analogy creeping underneath this simple thought. Perhaps what we do with clothes, we also do with people as well: we love new people, they are exiting and new and we don't know whether we are drawn towards them because they are exiting or because they're new. Resisting the urge to go find new shiny people to hang out with then, this post is about old friends, who are the coolest, exiting-est, shiniest people in our lives and who cannot be overshadowed by any new and shiny ones. Because old is the new new and because old friends are the best.

Against

I'm obsessively opposed to nostalgia. I hate the idea of it. It doesn't work. And it doesn't interest me at all.

What's important is not what I did last week, it's what I'm going to do next week. I made great records - I love them. My kids play them now. But that's for them and everyone else.

There's an awful lot of Britpop reunions going on at the moment and I find it embarrassing, personally. I think it's got no relevance to what's going on at the moment.

I know it's good fun and everything and sure, you can't deny someone a good night out but personally, I just feel uncomfortable with nostalgia.

If I could dedicate six months of my life to one thing, would it be somebody who's doing something that's interesting and totally new, or something that reflects something I did 15 years ago?

You couldn't possibly be a human being and be motivated by that.

Thus spoke Bernard Butler, ex-Suede guitarist and current producer-of-the-moment for Duffy.

Can people really be divided into nostalgic types and the "other ones"? People who move forward and the ones that stay in the past? Is this really, that simple? I though I was fiercely against nostalgia myself until I found myself obsessively thinking of the past, sometimes. Sometimes I walk and I just start thinking of people that I used to know and I just see my previous life in front of me, like a movie. I get emotional sometimes, but usually I move on. I don't sit and dwell, or rather I do sit and dwell, but I don't feel bad. You know what I mean? I don't think of my previous life and think, oh it was so nice then.

With music it''s different. I love past things, they give me such a comfort, to know what's coming next in a song, such comfort. Sometimes, I don't want to listen to new things people send me, because I don't know how they're going to be and I feel I'm too fragile to risk any disappointments. Musical disappointments are not to be taken lightly, I assure you. The reward of new music is sublime, when it works, mind you. But, as in life, I guess it takes some courage to be exposed to newness.

D. It is written

I was waiting to see this movie... I was well prepared: I had seen the trailer, I had downloaded the soundtrack, I had watched the BAFTA and I knew, I just knew for sure that I would like it. Why? Well, it was all about fast motion, beautiful photography, suspense, fantastic soundtrack (that is definitely not just in the background), and most of all, it was about hope and karma.
As a last attempt to catch the attention of his beloved Latika, Jamal decides to take part in a tv show that can bring him millions and change his life. But he is not there for the money. All his life has been a battle to have money, to survive with one way or another (stealing or working), but not this time. He was there to push his luck, to live his karma and get back together with the only woman he ever loved. Every question is a big chapter of his life. And he knows all the answers. All the nation is watching, awaiting for the outcome and the big mystery for the police to solve is if Jamal knows all the answers because he is cheating or... is it written?
This is a story of three musketeers, Jamal, Salim and Latika. But also a love story of two children who meet under unpleasant circumstances, separate, meet again in their teens and they can't be together as adults. A story of two very different brothers who try to survive the poverty and the loneliness and hurt each other. A story of a big city, Mumbai, full of life, religion, crime, death, culture that is changing.
It's only at the end, a very Bollywood end indeed, with Indian dance and music that made me forget that this is all a European film. If you enjoy Danny Boyle's latest film, you may want to book your next holidays to India, like I do, or if you don't like it, well.. it's probably written!

Cover

I've been wanting to write a post on covered songs since forever and finally here it is. Initially, I wanted to write it because of Mark Ronson's album, but then I got distracted. Today however I found the following videos and I loooooooooved them. It is from Radio 1's live lounge that although I knew existed, I never got too much into it.

Enjoy!



and...



Priceless!

The anniversary

People have all sorts of anniversaries. Anniversaries with their partners, their first kisses, their first times going public with their relationships, their marriages.

There are also anniversaries with break ups, that one remembers and feels relieved and anniversaries with break ups that people feel nostalgic about.

There are also birthdays, or dates that I call anniversaries with the self (like the one Youkali has today, happy birthday baby!!). Birthdays are viewed nicely as anniversaries with ourselves, I think, because this way we acknowledge that life is a relationship, a relationship with yourself and it is only up to you to make it work (this sounds cheesy, but you know what I mean).

My favourite anniversary is with me and my PhD: 8 December 2006 people, what a lovely date. I still remember the feeling of release that made me feel so free. The transision after that was not always smooth, but whatever.

Today however is my anniversary with Belfast. I arrived here two years ago. In the beginning it was hard and I felt lonely, miserable and sad. Now though, I feel ok. It's perhaps not my favourite place in the world, but it is, and will always be in my heart, the place where I gained my independence. And that is a very nice thing, indeed.

Haapy anniversary to us then, Belfast dear.