Older

Because I am getting older, I have more white hair by the day.

Because I am getting older, I love my students more.

Because I am getting older, I like all things vintage.

Because I am getting older, I pay a lot for food.

Because I am getting older, I love my mother more.

But.

But I still like loud music.

But I still like unbuttoned tops.

But I still like pizza.

But I am still reckless.

What means this? Do I roll the bottom of my trousers or do I wait?

Inertia creeps

Talking about relationships between people of a different cultural background JT told me two days ago "(I don't want to be) stuck in the ever-decreasing social circles of cultural inertia." After gasping at the beauty and the precision of this sentence (hence it is a quote and not a paraphrase) I remembered how I felt the first time I had to form a meaningful relationship with someone who was from a different country than me. I came to the UK in 2001 and always thought that my English was fine. And it was, sure but it was not adequate for any deep, profound, soul-searching conversation, of the ones you do with your friends and the people you love. When you are forced to communicate emotionally in a different language, I think it is then when you actually realize the importance of language in accessing our emotions. George Orwell in 1984 talked about Newspeak, the fictional language of the new regime that would lack dangerous words like 'freedom' and 'democracy' and therefore people would not be able to think 'in those terms'. The chicken and egg problem between language and thought, debated with great liveliness in linguistics today, is a true problem and not just a theoretical riddle. Do we talk in certain words but we think abstractly in some other language of the mind or does language actually limit our thought? Was I ever aware of mind-blowing concepts of 'nondescript' and 'understatement' before I encountered these words in the English language? Did they exist in my mind, like concepts, but they were never expressed because I didn't have the words to express them, or did they form themselves, did I create a mental image of them after I first heard the words themselves?

The other issue about all this of course, has to do with the formation of meaningful relationships among people of a different cultural and linguistic background. A long time ago, when I was in Boston, one of the first people I met was this Greek guy, who was my housemate. The first time I went out for a beer with him, we spent two very enjoyable hours talking to each other. This made me think that this guy might end up being my friend. When we went home however, I though of the things we had talked about and I found that they were all easy cultural things we had in common (Greek jokes, Greek music, Greek TV shows we watched when we were kids etc). And then it hit me how much harder does one have to work to bond with people he has nothing culturally in common with. And then perhaps I thought that maybe this means that relationships with people one does not have anything cultural in common with are far more superior than relationships with people with whom you share a background with. This is of course a sweeping unfair generalization, because I do have extremely meaningful relationships with Greeks, but you have to agree that when you manage to have this level of connection with someone from a different country, it feels different, profound and important.

Nearly God (and the role of ecstacy)

Ecstacy (1): MDMA (3,4-methylenedioxymethamphetamine, also known as Ecstasy) is a semisynthetic member of the amphetamine class of psychoactive drugs. It is considered unusual for its tendency to produce a sense of intimacy with others and diminished feelings of fear and anxiety. These effects have led some to suggest it might have therapeutic benefits to some individuals. (from wikipedia)

Ecstacy (2): Ecstasy is subjective experience of total involvement of the subject, with an object of his or her awareness. Because total involvement with an object of our interest is not our ordinary experience since we are ordinarily aware also of other objects, the ecstasy is an example of altered state of consciousness characterized by diminished awareness of other objects or total lack of the awareness of surroundings and everything around the object. (from wikipedia)

Ecstacy (3): Ecstasy, (or ekstasis) from the Ancient Greek, έκ-στασις (ex-stasis), "to be or stand outside oneself, a removal to elsewhere (from ex-: out, and stasis: a stand, or a standoff of forces)." It is used in philosophy usually to mean outside-of-itself. (again, from wikipedia)

When Tricky sings, he looks like he is on ecstacy. He is outside himself but he is with others. He moves, he sticks his tongue out, he hits his bare chest with his microphone so we can hear his heart. He thanks us. He thanks us for 'taking the time' to be there. He is a God-like creature, he jumps up and down, He sings wispering and yelling. He lets a song build up slowly. He has a bad-ass drummer.

He didn't sing my favourite line. He didn't sing 'life doesn't move me, just like a movie'. But I forgive him. Is allright. I will see him again and he will sing it, sure.

Indescribable

How do you describe a movie that is about:
(a) Vampires
(b) Romance between 12 year olds
(c) Bullying
(d) Loneliness
(e) Love
(f) Loyalty
(g) Friendship
(h) All of the above (and then some)

Quite simply you just can't.

I saw 'Let the right one in' yesterday and I was amazed at the complexity of the movie: it was scary, funny, sweet, loving and still made sense as a whole. I guess the most impressive thing with it however is how it managed to do all this with children in the two lead roles. I am not saying this because children are not good actors, far from it. I am saying this because I find artists to be disturbingly clumsy when they deal with children in movies or books. They either deal with them as cute little idiots, or just as decorative objects but they never allow them the complexity that children have in real life. This movie does that, and that is what makes it über special.

Go watch then, and be amazed.

Allegory of life

I just watched the finale of the first series of "Lost" and I have to say I'm impressed. I realize that half the authors of this blog are mocking me for getting into this so late and only realizing how good it is just now (and only having been indoctrinated by M and d/a, again, thanks guys!) but better late than never, right?

Again, I do not want to write something profound about this series now, I don't have anything profound to say anyway, and it is too early for it, but I have to say this: for anyone that loves allegory and symbolism (two related but not identical notions-often frowned upon) "Lost" IS the thing to watch. And given that allegories and symbolisms can be simplistic and tiring, it is this what makes the series so great: it takes a basic idea and executes in a way that it is simple but not simplistic. The simple premise of the series is, in my opinion, the premise of an archetypical society where the science vs. faith dilemma (as it has been explicitly mentioned in the series finale by Jack and Locke, who represent the two) can be played to the extremes.

The island with the magic powers, the stranded group of people, the hatch that according to Locke has 'hope' inside it (what a wonderful modern allegory of Pandora's box), the Others, the archetypical couple (Sun and Kim) and so much more form this mini-universe, a miniature version of society where everything, all the issues that have troubled literature, theatre, philosophy and religion for the last 2000 years or so can be laid out and explored.

Nothing short of genius, truly.
Series 2, here I come!

I grow old, I grow old

I was just reading stuff on the net and then, bang, I had to be rudely reminded how old I am. In an article about Roxette being reunited, the journalist saw fit to tell us that they have been around for 20 years. Well, this makes me old enough, right, since, I do clearly remember 'the look' as an LP featuring prominently in some of my earliest parties. What to say apart from to quote T.S.Elliot, appropriately as always:

I grow old, I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled

Tsitata (mottos)

'When the rapist approaches his victim, he whispers sweet words.
The person who loves you mumbles and doesn't know what to say.
Who will you trust?'
(S.T.)

My teenage years (that I seem to dwell on a lot these days - 'I grow old, I grow old...') have been deeply affected by this line, which featured prominently on my wall for years. I loved it so much because it seemed to excuse the inadequacy of the people I loved to exress their feelings to me. I felt that the less they said, the bigger their love was. But I am not sure anymore. Love can be expressed, not with cheap sweet words perhaps, but it can be. I am sure of it now.

Yesterday, when talking with d/a I came up with the following profound statement: 'The issue is not to love your people, turning the blind eye at their inadeqacies. The issue is to love them, in spite of their inadequacies.' Profound, huh? What I mean, I guess is that I have no patience for people who say, 'oh I loved so and so a lot, so I didn't see their faults'. I mean how stupid is that? Youkali said to me that it is the faults of the other person that will make your heart skip beats more than the good things. This is when you know you love them truly: when even their shitty traits seem sweet.

How often does THIS happen though...?... On verra...

Kinds

When I was young(er) I used to make sharp statements. I thought I was great and that my friends were great. Also I was deeply elitist: if you read such and such books you were great, if you listen to this and this music you were great and if you wore so and so clothes you were also great. Anything else was not going to cut it. I think I am over this by now, although sometimes I surprise myself with my harshness.

Another favourite past-time of my younger days was putting people into categories. I remember I used to say: there are two kinds of people, clever ones and stupid ones. I was actually going around saying this thing, thinking that I was so clever for saying it. I also thought I was so clever because my categorization was one of cleverness and not one of goodness, as so many other people did. Goodness, pif! Who cares about THAT?

I still think people can be clever and stupid, but I also think that this is not so crucial. It is crucial, don't get me wrong, but it is also so insufficient. When you're an academic, you are constantly surrounded with relatively clever people. If this was all that mattered, then our lives would be so easy. But they're not. I am surrounded by clever people, some of which are fine. But there are also so many that are not fine, there are so many that are tiring, self-absorbed, needy, assholes, arrogant, uniterested, insulting, strssful etc. So, I can only gather that being clever is not enough for happiness. Happiness for oneself and for the other people.

So if cleverness is not it, the question is: is there a characteristic that defines people? Is there a characteristic that fundamentally runs through the human psyche, essentilly putting people in categories?

I think not. I no longer think such distinctions are necessary, feasible or even useful. Who gives a fuck if people are either clever or stupid? Only elitist teenagers like my former self, who clearly knew fuck all about life, happiness and other exotic animals.