Answége Swefnas

Sententia Pulmentum

2011-02-10T11:15:00.004Z

I saw something today that filled me with a need to vent my uninformed, poorly constructed arguments against media, politics, student life, and everything therein or around. Lets be clear: nothing I say holds any claim to truth. I don't really believe there is any such thing as truth, firstly, in anything concerning the movement and behaviour of people, and especially the media, and secondly, in a more abstract sense, in anything at all in the sphere of experience. Ultimately, what I say is, in itself, unimportant, as is everything anyone says, but we must receive antidotes for each and every piece of propaganda that Big Brother gives us. How else will we reach that Brave New World? So, please, read this, and when you're done, go and read something else to help you forget the text ever existed. Our opinions will spiral on and on until nothing at all is left to say about such things that is in any way useful.

The SU bar is showing campaign videos for the Sab elections. They're actually rather good. By which I mean so overproduced and glittery that you don't really care what the candidates are saying, because you're distracted by the musical introduction and the lovely border around their name. A name which you promptly forgot. The candidates are being carefully groomed for a life of meaningless dressage for the purpose of proving that they are better than everyone else. Their personalities will be pruned away, until all that is left is a quivering In almost all respects these videos resemble real campaign videos, from, you know, election where the results actually mean someth.... oh wait, no...

But seriously, bitter remarks aside, what happened to a simple mission statement on a leaflet, a soapbox and a hustings? I mean, sure those things still exist, but now they're overshadowed by huge loudspeakers spewing out hypnotic music, some of which I actually like, by faces on televisions, made up to look pretty and interesting, surrounded by lights and borders in an aspirational vacuum. I would like to see what would happen if the media took a backseat in elections. Would only those who cared enough to research the candidates and the issues bother to vote? There seems to be a consensus that if you get everyone to vote, you'll end up with the best candidate for everyone. But that discount the fact that otherwise intelligent and thoughtful people become idiotic morons when they join in large enough groups, zombies whose brain will are consumed by the powerful and who must then seek out something to fill it, from any source close to hand. If people were not assaulted with the need to vote and battered with the iron notion that not voting means you are not a real person, not fit to be part of society, perhaps the sheep would give up and go voice their unfortunate bleating to each other. I know I would.

This train of though led me to realise that it isn't politics per se that I dislike, it's the way it's all been turned into a reality TV spectacle that I hate. At least of politicians didn't have to justify what they did, it would either all turn out well in, or all go tits up and they'd be burned at the metaphorical (or, in some places, real) stake.

So I realised, there is one huge difference between the SU elections and the general elections, other than the fact that some of these poor misguided fools still believe they can change things from inside the nonsensical system. In the general election, the parties give promises which are completely idealistic, exactly what the public wants, completely unrealistic to hope for, and which they have no intention of keeping. Instead, they replace those promises with policies that most of don't understand, and which may or may not be necessary, not that we'd ever know, for the amount of real dialogue that occurs, outside of rampant opinion wars. In the SU elections, however, the candidates genuinely believe in what they promise, genuinely intend to deliver it, and in many cases succeed in giving the student body exactly what it wants.

I honestly don't know which prospect is scarier. Huxley, eat your heart out.

妖怪なしで心

2010-07-12T12:41:00.007+01:00

As a crushing headache kept me drowsing until I was nearly meant to finish work today, I figured going in was a little pointless. And since they hadn't called me to ask where I was, they clearly weren't immensely fussed by my absence. So, instead I decided to apologise tomorrow and instead spend the time browsing the net.

I found this.

Now I love Charlie Brooker's commentary. His sarcastic attacks on everyone and everything know no bound: not even he himself is safe. I don't approve of his views a lot of time, but his phrasing is always funny to behold, and this is no exception. Furthermore, I actually can't stand the concept of the Twilight saga enough to ever want to watch or read it. Perhaps I'm massively misjudging it, but I think the sound of millions of fangirls squealing are more than proof enough for me that I don't need to bother. Brooker does nothing to endear me to the series, to be sure, but I don't want to continue with the Twilight-bashing: the intellectual gang-rape has become as tiresome as the fandom itself.

One question did arise from the article though: why do otherwise intelligent and well-thought out people stand on the "mindless monster" hardline? Personally, in complete contrast to Brooker, I find zombies the dullest monster ever. I don't to see walking corpses shuffling around looking for a meal. That's just... boring. They have no motivation, no choice, no goal. I know that's the point, but it really does absolutely nothing at all to excite or terrify me. The truly terrifying things in the world are not mindless: they are people. People who think, and feel, and have goals, and hide their intent, and commit hideous acts that would be far less terrifying could we not somehow imagine ourselves doing exactly the same thing, in whatever far fetched version of our life might be required.

So, while Brooker may lament the loss of "real" monsters, instead, I celebrate the addition of humanity to what would otherwise be carnivorous furniture. The only vampires I've ever found interesting (and yes, I've watched Hellsing, and read Dracula, and seen Interview with a Vampire, and even played World of Darkness' Vampire games) are the ones in Being Human and in True Blood. There are other reasons why the vampires in WoD hold little allure for me, since they too share the quality that is found in Being Human and True Blood: they are people who have been afflicted with a curse so horrid and terrible that we can scarcely imagine it. And their actions, given their predicament, are completely understandable, if not agreeable. They are people, with more power and less humanity.

There is certainly a place for inhuman monsters, but they should, I think, always be in contrast to our own potential to become monsters ourselves. How else are we to explore the darker sides of our own psyche if we cannot realise that these monsters are just metaphors for exactly that: the darkness in ourselves? Deprive them of their humanity and you lose the essence of what they really are.

Déplacement d'esprit

2010-06-01T20:12:00.004+01:00

I recently, thanks to one of the most inspirational individuals I've met, got hold of the new Rome EP, L'Assassin. It's so spectacular that I want to devote entire paragraphs to each song. I'll start with the covers, since, with most bands, new releases of old songs is hardly something to shout about. However, when it comes to artists as accomplished as Rome, I'll give them the space to prove worthy. And, they don't dissapoint. With the addition of Nikos Mavridis to the project, Rome have taken a vigorous shine to strings. As such, their "Stringed Version" releases of Der Brandtaucher and Der Erscheinungen Flucht are suitably superb.

Thanks to the addition of an introduction and the subtlest of accentuation of the rhythm with strings, Der Brandtaucher feels very different to the Masse Mensch Material release. The energy added by the violins nudges the whole piece a step or two lighter than the original version, and the song progresses, the effect expands to beautifully counterpoint the dark and ponderous lyrics. The percussion keeps itself almost identical, illustrating wonderfully how adding a single line of music (albeit played by more than one instrument at times) can alter the entire feel of a song and take to unforeseen heights. The whole thing is capped off with a perfect dual violin "solo". All in all, I still prefer the original release, but there's definitely something to be said for this version.

Der Erscheinungen Flucht, in contrast, drops the energy in favour of a more sedate song. The piano chords underlying the guitar are cut entirely, as is the reverb on Reuter's voice. To parrot several other blogs floating the net, I must. of course, point out the cunning change of lyrics from:

"This is a warning, we fall, as servants fall, in stone gardens."

to

"This is a warning, we fall, as stock markets fall, in stone gardens."

Also, I love how the music draws greater attention to perhaps the most meaningful lyrics Reuter has ever sung, which, even at the end of the song, are accompanied only by guitar and gentle strings:

"Your pride should be a lighter thing: an easy thing, a cheerful thing."

Interestingly, the strings jump in full on, at 2:11, but their addition does nothing to reinject the energy lost by cutting the piano, but rather, develops further the mournful sound that begun the song. This song, I feel seriously contends with its original form for the superfluous title of "best".

But, of course, no matter how good a re-release may be, what you really want to hear when you stick on the EP are the new tracks.

So, on to One Flesh, which reeks of the old pre-Flowers Rome in a most magnificent way, and yet, somehow plasters to it the new, lighter sound, giving the whole thing a complex and pleasing sound. The cello walks a potent path across the whole song, cutting deeply into the mind, paving the way for the gorgeous lyrics to glide freely into the part of you that wants not to critique, nor compare, but simply to admire.

"For one flesh we are
and shall be still.
No man hates his own kind
while he's alive
For one flesh we are
and shall be still
And I shall never tire
of loving you."

And, finally, the title track. The first line seems to epitomise the entire shift Rome have taken in their last two releases:

"Banks and tanks have lost their charm"

Further lines continue the comparison to their older work, with

"Lambs dressed as lions,
relief in reverse,
the trappings of worldly lions,
amidst the rite of words"

Which rings so clearly of Der Brandstifter:

"You admire the lions,
you despise old sheep,
but following lions,
creates nothing but sheep."

All this, combined with the fact that both their re-releases are from Masse Mench Material, leads me to believe the release of this EP was in many ways an attempt by the band to acknowledge the success of that great album, while at the same time signalling their breaking free from the legacy it created.

And now, since never in my life have I been able to listen to Rome without wanting to write, sing and play, I'll leave and do exactly that. I hope you may find in their music all that I do, perhaps even more.

Le voci degli dei

2010-05-09T11:50:00.002+01:00

I was stumbling around Youtube today, when I found something stunning.

A Cappella Metal.

Sounds like a cheesy gimmick, doesn't it? Well, the same could be said of metal on cellos, yet we have Apocalyptica, of mixing flamenco with rock and metal, yet we have Rodrigo y Gabriela, of mixing jazz and death metal, yet we have Opeth . So, put aside your instincts, and listen:

ปล่อย

2010-03-13T15:20:00.006Z

I haven't written much for a while, but I've been prompted to add something by recent events. I want you all to think about you life, and about the people in it. All the people that matter to you, that influence your life one way or another. How do they affect you? Don't think about the details of what they do, just how it affects you.

Now focus on the people that have a an affect you label as negative. Think about them and the feeling they generate in you.

People do this all the time in reality, when someone has annoyed them, they think about it, they focus on the feeling and let it build up. To avoid insulting each other, to keep up appearances. Letting out anger, pain frustration, or any other negative emotion can lead to horrendous upheaval, unbalancing the status quo, and so we hold the feelings in. But sooner or later, the great wall we build between the feelings and the world begins to crack and some that energy damned up behind it leaks out and hurts us, or other people.

And of course, everyone knows this. We're told from childhood, "don't bottle up your feelings." But the truth is, as soon as the energy is out, we patch up the wall, you apologise for our negligence in maintaining necessary repairs, and the tenuous balance returns. The grinding passage of everyday traffic continues past the scene of the accident and you forget it ever happened. It's so much easier to just hold it all in and keep on walking.

Except you don't and it isn't. The wall is forever weakened, and the emotions continue to build up. The cracks become more frequent, and more apparent.

Even those people of whom we think, "they speak their mind", the kind that always has an opinion. always wants to tell you what that opinion is, that will not "suffer fools gladly", even they cannot avoid this cycle. Their wall is even bigger than other people's, for those opinions come from behind it, thrown into the world to attack it, to show how they are better than it.

This is, again, something we all do. We all care deeply about something or another, and so we have a wall, however big or small around it. If someone threatens it, you spring to defend it, to throw thoughts and opinions at the world until it stops threatening. There is much written on this, and indeed, on everything I say here, and this particular mechanism, though nuanced a thousand ways, and completely central to what I would say, is not something to dwell on deeply at the moment.

Instead, think again of that person or group that so riles you. Focus on the feeling, let it coalesce and amplify.Focus on it so deeply that it is no longer attached to any individual, but is a being of its very own. Now you are afflicted by feelings made by your own mind without cause. Now do something to release them. Shout (though not at anyone, or even at the energy itself, just release the energy through your voice), sing, play music, draw, write, paint, run, do whatever it is that helps you release energy. But be sure to release it completely. Expend your thoughts and focus on that one task. If any energy remains, keep going.

When you are done, spent, come back and read ono. Go, now!

So, you're back. You've released all that energy, and you're now relaxed? Good. Now, play the video above and close your eyes to listen. You needn't listen to it all, but make sure the peace has filled you, that you feel relaxed and free of tension. If that sounds doesn't help, find another, one that does. Or if you prefer silence, use that. Whatever you use, just absorb it for a while, let it fill you, flow through you, for a good long time.

Now, it's probably several hours, at least, since you started reading the post. The person you originally thought of should be long gone from your mind. They're back now, aren't they? How do you feel about them now? Do they annoy you as much? Do they annoy you at all?

Perhaps, but I hope you feel a little calmer about the whole thing. I hope now you can judge the situation for what it is: a collection of people sitting behind walls, gazing down on the world, you included. I hope this insight helps you see where the problems really lie, and deal with them as they need to be dealt with, not as your ego would tell you they ought to be dealt with.

I don't claim this is a definitively answer to your problems, I don't claim to be any kind of psychologist or guru. And I'm well aware the similar techniques may be exhaled or vilified by different traditions around the world. But try it. If it works, then you'll have clarity. If it doesn't, never mind. Try something else. And if you're worried that releasing your anger might destroy you, well, that's something only you can solve, but I would suggest that as long as you take care to release it in the right place and time, you'll do anything but destroy yourself.

лучезарная улыбка

2009-11-10T13:30:00.004Z

I wish to dedicate this post to someone very specifc. I think she will know who she is. At a time in my life when I must deal with a great many things, she is to me as peace and warmth for the mind and soul, along with a not infrequent doses of inspiration and excitement. :D

Also, I've discovered a rather awesome track. Written by Unto Ashes, with a cover by Solanaceae, The Blood of My Lady has two variants, each hauntingly captivating. The second has a driving guitar line that perfectly sets the rhythm for the spine-shivering vocals, while the first is far more minimalist with its music, giving a far more spaced out feeling. Both are amazing. Solanaceae seem to have reversed this order in their self-titled album, but other than a slighlty more poignant vocal style, I don't see a great deal of difference between the two.

In any case, here is the second, being the only one I can find on YT. Enjoy:

もようすな

2009-10-08T23:50:00.004+01:00

The universe speaks clearly in times of peace, but when things seem less certain, less clear, it's easy to obscure the Truth with worries about what is and what should be, with what isn't and what could be, and with all the things you fear and hate. There are many things going on right now that I have to deal with, and I know that I can, given time. But of all of them, the one that hurts the most is possibly that which easiest to deal with. Why? Because no matter how much I tell myself I should, I simply cannot let the problems go and enjoy what is. I read a story today that I'd heard before, but today it has special meaning to me. It helps me to put things into perspective. Here it is:

Two monks were walking together. Coming across a young woman who asked to be carried across a river, the first monk, knowing such contact with women to be forbidden to his order, refused. The second, carried the woman across.

They continued in silence for a while, until finally the first monk could take it no more.

He said, "Brother, why did you break your vows to carry that woman?"

The second monk replied, "I put that woman down many miles back. Why are you still carrying her?"

I hope that it's as helpful to some of you as it is to me.

ﻡﻴﺭﻜﺘ ‘ﺵﻴﺎﺘﺴ ‘ﻡﺍﺭﺘﺤﺍ ‘ﺝﺍﺭﺨ ‘ﺝﺎﺒ

2009-09-30T14:14:00.004+01:00

Sitting in Glamac yesterday, contemplating the world with guitar in hand, I realised something rather amusing. Of course I'd realised it before, but in phrasing it quite the way I did, I simply burst out laughing there in the tree.

That which is fighting the ego is... the ego: The ego is fighting itself.

Of course, if you go be and read what I wrote before, it becomes blatantly obvious, but the phrasing doesn't quite bring out the humour. And upon that laugh, so much ceased to be troublesome.

On another note, I recently got Muse's latest album, The Resistance. It splices together Muse's distinctive symphonic/prog new rock sound with a number of other styles. Undisclosed Desires, for instance seems to draw a lot of influence from hip hop/RnB, and while Matthew Bellamy's voice certainly seems high enough to join the ranks with Timberlake, he displays his prowess with as much skill as his other tracks, and even caps the whole thing with the subtlest touch of electro-goth in what approximates a chorus.

But it's the nest track, United States of Eurasia that steals the limelight for me. Because I talk about it, here it is:

Ok, so first of all, musical impression: WOW! After that wonderful piano intro, pay attention at 1:17, where Brian May's Red Special (probably a limited edition copy) kicks into action, complete with pre-80s Queen style choral vocals. Bellamy may not be Freddie, but he damn sure channels the spirit of such a legend well, both in style and musicality. The Arabian style interlude fits well with the glam-rock feel of the piece, and the chanting from 3:22 neatly wraps up the Queen sound too. Then, the piano returns, but this time, Chopin's Sonata No. 9, played by Bellamy himself, and arranged slightly to fit the song, complete with traditional Muse static and other ambient electronics. Of course, hardcore Queen fans and diehard classical enthusiasts have burned the song for "ripping off" the other two artists. But then, I don't think they got the point: Bellamy is giving a magnificent tribute to two of his biggest musical influences.

So, now, onto the lyrical impact. Bellamy, as you can find out on almost any Google search, was inspired by the book, "The Grand Chessboard: American Primacy and Its Geostrategic Imperatives", by Zbigniew Brzezinski, and threw in a touch of George Orwell's "1984" too. Having not read the first book, I can't comment on how well he represented it, there is a definite scent of police state in the lyrics, "Must we do as we're told?... You and me fall in line, to be punished for unproven crimes. And we know there is no one we can trust. Our ancient heroes, they are turning to dust!" (Incidentally, notice the vocal phrasing Bellamy uses on "turning to dust". A clear indication of his power, range and skill.)

All in all, I love this song, and the critics have no idea. The moment I heard it, I was reminded how great Queen and Chopin really are, and at the same time I loved Bellamy's arrangements. So did he really rip them off, or did he instead raise his musical goblet in a magnificent toast?

そうだ?

2009-09-25T13:04:00.007+01:00

So, I'm returning to the realm of unenlightened teachers and theoretical practicality. I can't say I'm not happy to be back there, though I also can't truthfully say that such feelings arise purely from the merit of established education. It's more that I have now a chance to escape one more form the "real world", and hide among people whose lives are filled with thoughts of transience and non-commitment to the great people-machine. That's not to say that there aren't people in university who want to be a gear in this thing they call society, but that these are not the people among whom I will hide.

It's not that I fear society, more that I do not associate with it, and see no reason to be a part of the monumental bureaucracy. Ironic, perhaps, that I hide from one bureaucracy inside another. I'm not sure why I prefer this one. Perhaps is is simply that I can continue the considerations that have recently come to me more easily here than "outside".

There is also no reason to assume that I'm doing this for the qualifications. A bit of paper to tell me that some authoritative group somewhere in the ethereal tangle of papers has deemed me worthy of intellectual gratification? Pah! OK, so clearly there is some delusion left in me still, for I have clearly stated, to many people, on many occasions, that six years of my life in this "place of learning" is too many to come away with anything less than a First. I justify it that I will come away proving to potential employers that I can do whatever the hell they need me to do. But, then again, I'm not sure that was ever in doubt. Ability does not equal willingness. And since I don't really care about potential employers, that argument crumbles on multiple fronts. And so the ego still works its vile magic over me...

Ah, the ego. Don't think I'm talking of prideful behaviour, of the loud and arrogant voices of those that you may look at and understand that they are full of ego. Instead I speak of that which makes us all want to be stronger, cleverer, faster, more efficient, BETTER than those around us. That which seeks to subsume the world into itself. It sees those around us that are better than us at this or that, and it seeks to make them a part of itself, to say they are "MY friend", "MY child", "MY student" or so on. And when it cannot do this, it seeks to discredit those people, so that it may still appear better than them. When this fails it still wished to be different to others. It doesn't truly care if it is better or worse, so long as it is different. And so those who appear to have no ego, do, in fact, have a NEGATIVE ego. Their ego tells them how worthless they are, how poor they are, how little they can do. In this way it can feel different and special. And, of course, the whole paradox is that by subsuming the world it ceases to be different, and so is not satisfied, and must then seek more resistance. Only when it is resisted does it feel different enough to stop growing. But it will not be satisfied for long. It will soon start to grow again. It cannot accept that one person is this way, and I am another. It cannot accept what is.

Do I hate the ego? Of course. But in hating it I make it stronger, provide it with the resistance it needs to feel special. I know this, and yet... still I hate it. There is not much I hate, not much at all, except this, the ego, the desires and drives of the virus that has plagued humanity since fist they thought. And yet, do you hate the flu virus? Of course not! You might not like that you are ill, but hating a virus is irrational, unproductive and harmful to yourself and others around you. So it is with the ego. And so by hating my own ego, and hate it also in others. The old adage (from Aristotle, I think), "We hate most in other what we see in ourselves," applies here so well. I seek so hard to undo my ego that I have lost sight of what is. I have to accept that my ego is, and I am, and that so it is with others. Thus may I find peace and enjoy the company of all.

So, why do I dislike society? For it little more that a vast elaborate collective ego. It does not know how to accept what is, how to look beyond its own ego, the ego of those within it, and the ego of other societies. It gets caught up its pain, in the wrongdoings done to it, in the past and future and forgets Now. Now is not wrong, nor is it right, it is not good, nor is it bad. It just Is.

And still the paradox goes on, for at each step of the way, I find a reason to dislike one example or another of the ego, of the pain that we all carry and cannot see past. At each step of the way, the ego uses my displeasure as way to reassert itself. The Wheel turns ever onward.

Jedi Verkleide

2009-09-08T16:37:00.004+01:00

Derren Brown is awesome. I wouldn't be surprised if this all some elaborate month long trick to steer you away from another goal he had. Like... he predicts the lottery wrong, but it turns out to be the right one in a months time... or something....

La Vie Nouvelle.

2009-09-02T12:46:00.009+01:00

It's long after the return of the tubes, and the detestable service provider have given us free services in response to our complaints of unfair treatment. Personally I don't care much about "unfair treatment", but free services are nice.

Only now, however, as I shape a better Now from what was and would have been, do I find myself wanting to write any more up here. Apologies to the minute few that actually read these posts, and congratulations to those that broke what hold they may have had over you.

Two books for you. You know the cliché line, "It'll change your life!" Well, shame to say, but if you read them with an open mind, they truly will. Caroline Brazier: Buddhist Psychology, and Ekhart Tolle: A New Earth.

Ok, you say, that just sounds like post-60s pseudo-scientific psycho-spiritual populist bullshit. And of course, if you want to read them like that, then that's exactly what they'll be. But both books challenge you, frequently, to apply their teachings to your life, not tomorrow, not next week, but now. Right now. And once done they ask you to assess what change you have observed, what new states have entered your life. More than that I cannot say, for it will be my own distorted perception of them that you will then know.

I've also found myself utterly obsessed by the darkwave musical genre. I'd previously considered it a bizarre catch-all genre composed of the outcasts of all other genres. But now it seems that very same ambiguity of genre is what attracts me, while the strong themes of each group, be they the martial, apocalyptic, spiritual, post-folk, or whatever else might ring forth, speak strongly to the side of me that once became infatuated with power metal, and in no other genre have I found such potent poetic lyrics.

The rotting remnants Linda Equeio, it seems, must be abandoned, in favour of a more freeform posting of songs that I love, as and when I can find online variants. I am, however, in some sort of compensatory endeavour, being making greater efforts to fill Kayamana with the treasures deserved. Also, check out the blogs I follow. They are full of fantastic goodies to be had.

Music for you:

Darkwave - Ethereal Wave:

Roman Rain - Умерла (Рожденая Реять Бесплотность)

Darkwave - Neofolk:

Rome - The Secret Sons of Europe (Flowers from Exile)

Rome - Die Brandstifter (Masse Mensch Material)

Darkwave - Neoclassical:

Ataraxia - Zelia (Oil on Canvas)

Elend - Moon of Amber (The Umbersun)

There ends a short run of darkwave music for you to experience. I would apologise for Rome being present twice, but they are so utterly amazing that such and apology would be totally misplaced.

Well, a day after I began this pitifully short post, I must leave.
Deep, pure and total peace to all of you.

Varuna.

L'ésprit d'un nuit blanche

2009-08-05T20:17:00.004+01:00

I sit in a computer lab on campus and type. Of course, I aim to sound pretentious and affected, so this present tense, postmodern style of whittering is perfectly acceptable, indeed, one might suggest it is even fitting.

In my ears, pumped from the shiny new phone (an early birthday gift from my parents), which, for need of unlocking and credit, I can't yet use as anything more than a fancy MP3 player (or, as the French say, "baladeur numerique", or "digitial singer"), sonorates the sound of Origa's voice, singing Yoko Kanno's Inner Universe, which, despite having been on repeat for the past hour and more, has not become in the least bit tiresome.

Having no internet or phone at home, I've not had much contact with the outside world to arrange socialisation, so, after returning from an enjoyable weekend with the parents, complete with additional furniture for the completion of unpacking, a task which I finished in a single day, I've spent the rest of my time arranging payment from the government and council, looking for jobs with a somewhat discontented effort that really suggests I don't care much for them at the present time (but then, who does?), playing copious amounts of guitar (from the books also bought for my birthday by my parents), reading various World of Darkness supplements and a wonderful book entitled "Buddhist Psychology", and alternating between Worms Armageddon and UFO: Aftermath.

The lack of people in the house for a large part of the day is quite mindnumbing, which only goes to show how accustomed I've become to the enormity of the presence of a housemate who, for discretion, shall be known as The Flagship. It's not that he does anything particulary wrong, it's just that he's always there, always wanting to commune with other people, like he can't just enjoy his own company for even a short while. The sad truth of the matter is, that in accomodating such an individual, in what small ways I do accomodate him, for reasons of politeness, and because there isn't really anything I can point out in protest at the time being, I've become in some way used to having someone in the house. Now that he's away for a week and more, I'm feeling somewhat alone, exacerbated by the lack of ability to contact others without walking to campus. It's a feeling that will pass, but I only wish it hadn't been given cause to arise in the first place.

I must think of a way to avoid such emotions from bring bad notions into the house. Already I find myself mildly irritated when I see The Flagship or even return to the house after a good time out. I'd really rather not spend a year with such feelings. I must diffuse the situation, at least in my own mind.

And now, for the first time in a long while, Nightingale comes to Glamac where we will meet.

Hmm... that reminds me, I have discovered something else about myself. While "Niedfaru" referred to the dreamer, the traveller, and the pilgrim, it seems the those roles are no longer together. The pligrim and the dreamer have become a part of Varuna, who has lost some of his detached alien nature, while Niedfaru has taken on a slightly more insidious air. In keeping with the "enforced journey" reading of the Old English word, his is like a knight on a quest. What the quest is, he doesn't know, or care, but he must shout it loudly to the world, for fear that others will not know, or remember. Perhaps if the world knows, the world might tell him what the quest truly is. He has also become a trickster. Strong like the knight and wily as the the raven, he is also weak underneath, soft and vulnerable. And so, he is Niedfaru Ravendown.

And so my thoughts draw themselves to a close and my fingers find little left to enter into a tiny box on a screen full of electonic singals.

The Sound of Childhood

2009-07-04T19:27:00.004+01:00

I got hold of Madness' latest album, The Liberty of Norton Folgate. Yesterday I didn't know they had a new album. Today, I'm in love with it. It still rings of the old Nutty Boys' sound, but it has something more, a level of maturity that could never have been found back in their 80s albums. Since their return in 1999, they've gone from strength to strength, and Norton Folgate is an amazing addition to their repertoire.

The title track is a glorious ten minute monster that would have seen them thrown off stage back in their 2-Tone heyday, but which really demonstrates their mature sound well. With beautiful gems like Rainbows and Clerkenwell Polka, it's small wonder it reached #1 in the UK Independent Album Charts, and was the highest charting album since 1984, with Keep Moving.

Check out one of their great tracks, We Are London. Keep an ear out for the piano work in this one, still as fitting as ever. Apologies for the awful recording quality, I couldn't find an upload with anything better:

Varuna

2009-06-27T19:14:00.006+01:00

I don't often remember my dreams. Those that I do usually have blatant symbolism of quite some importance to me. So it was quite a surprise when I dreamt last night something very strange indeed. To understand it, you will, perhaps, need to understand a few things.

I have always found the ocean deeply fascinating, and even more so recently, that I've been watching a number of documentaries about ocean life. The stillness and peace of them is intoxicating, even on a screen. Beneath the surface lies the unknown, and in many cases, the empty.

Storms build up and the ocean rages for a while, earthquakes on the sea floor send huge tsunamis racing across the surface, the great bulk of a whale or an enormous fish breaks the stillness, but soon enough the disturbance settles back down to calm and gentle waves. Water does not, of itself, anger. Tempests and tumults are the result of other influences. And it always returns to its calm afterwards.

Water both reflects and absorbs the world, harmed by neither.

And so, I have always wanted to be like water, not resisting the undulations of the world, but rolling slowly with it to return to the centre when the world has moved on to play with someone else. To be immersed in the reflective peace of my own mind, and the minds of those closest to me.

Varuna is a deity from Vedic mythology, most easily attributed to the oceans. But upon more detailed reading, it becomes clear that he is more than a simple water deity. He is also has aspects of the sky, of the sun and of the moon. These things also have reflective or lightbearing symbolism, and give him undertones of freedom. The sky and ocean both fall under his domain, and with those at his disposal, he may walk any land in this world.

I first came across Varuna when researching for my Dungeons and Dragons setting, Ouros. I didn't look too deeply into his story at the time, rather writing one of my own using little more than his name and the element of water.

As you can see if you read the link, he is a thinker, one who spends his time musing on one thing or another. But he is plagued by his inability to understand the creation of life. Likely, with his active and agile mind, he knows that such an obsession is self-destructive, but he cannot let it go. What drives him to seek the secret so?

Of course, he eventually goes insane from the search, but it is Varuna before the madness that most interests me.

In my dream, I stood on an unknown shore, staring out at the rolling waves. I watched in awe as a huge whale (a Right Whale for those that are interested, probably a vestige of my watching Whale Rider last week.) rose from the water and smoothly swam along in front of me, seemingly just enjoying itself. A few moments later, it dived, but it's shape did not fade from view into the sea as it might if it dived very deep. Instead, it rose again, but it was no longer a whale. Now, it was a tall figure, eyes the sliver hue of the moon and a rove of waves. He looked right at me, into my eyes, and then I was him, looking at the figure on the beach. I wondered at it, wondered what secrets it held, what it thought, what it wanted, what it desired, what it saw when it saw me. I wondered why it was, and how it was. I sought its deepest secrets, but I could not see them, for its own eyes roved and witnessed me. As it knew me only on the surface, so I could know it only on the surface. No matter what gazes we exchanges, we could not know each other beyond that.

I dived into the ocean, became the whale, swam out and away, and then I was me on the shore again, watching the whale-figure leave, seeking others it might know. I knew that I had seen a magnificent being, a figure of deific importance. Somehow, I also knew that the ocean was my own mind.

I think, in light of this, I have, perhaps, found the name that my fellow seekers, Eloysius, Wing and Saskia all sought to find me. Such things, can of course, only come from within, and I feel this comes from as deep within as it can come. Varuna is a being that ties together all the many minds that stand on the shores of the ocean in my soul. He knows none of them, yet only he sees all of them. And so he is me in a way that the others cannot be. And with each passing day, he understands more. Will he ever understand all that he seeks to?

I think it is he that talks when I go into a deep trance, it is he that tries to understand all, that will mull over the most pointless of ideas for no other reason than that he finds it enjoyable to do so. And it is he that would happily dive into the ocean and leave the world of humanity behind.

The Ten Commandments of Babel(fish)

2009-06-22T16:46:00.002+01:00

Lost in Translation is an amazing site that allows you to rip the piss out of the Systran translation software, by running phrases through it ten times, into and out of other languages, back into English and on into another language. The resulting phrases are often barely recognisable as anything resembling the original input. A few moments of playing around led to the amusing idea of inputting important sections of certain religion texts. Wouldn't religion be so much more fun if all rules were like these?

1. The other God before Me.

2. It was cut, because its mask was not, it is possibly of the east comes towards the track in the skies under the water earth, and a certain thing is of similar material.

3. Is not economic to consider the name of the God of the Job steps.

4. Sure, the life every day way to remember is the crowned character, because he uses.

5. Present to the Father the honour and the matrix.

6. They do not assassinate,

7. Enganato does not trust.

8. They do not fly

9. It does not resist the false team of employees near the card.

10. Hopeful neighbours. Site of S. Hopeless neighbours. The team of employees, this cow and the woman of the east. S man, this woman and these donkeys, with the neighbour's something. S.

I particularly like the reversal of the First Commandment, and the Fifth and Seventh, which are clearly taken from the Year 3000 Limited Edition Anime and Cyberpunk Bible.

Also, S.

Linda Enqueio

2009-05-22T20:00:00.007+01:00

From now on, I'll not be posting a new Linda Enqueio each week as opposed to leaving one at the bottom where it's easy to miss.

Ludovico Einaudi's music has always been a source of inspiration for me. Today I sat listening to a couple of albums and found myself in a melancholic mood. I was moved to write a poem, one of the few I've completed in the past month, which I might stick up here later. But, for now, here's the particular song that so inspired me: Utlima Fuochi.

パワ- ワル-ブ

2009-05-10T12:22:00.003+01:00

It's been too long since I've had any really good metal up here. Metal is much maligned around certain musical circles as being an aggresive form of music. Now that's not necessarily a bad thing, but I'd like to demonstrate it's also not necessarily true. So Sexy Robotnik, by Powerglove, is my current alarm tune, and it does a great job at getting me out of bed. Those wonderful power chords to open, and the lovely chip-tunes to break them up... ah it's the perfect energizer for a good day: like Lucozade in musical form!

Powerglove, named after the Power Glove for the NES, play classic game tunes in metal form. Tetris is a great cover, if you get the chance to look it up, but for now, So Sexy Robotnik.

Bel zio Berlusconi

2009-05-10T10:52:00.005+01:00

I usually ignore global politics, on account of them being repetitive and immensely depressing. It might be that we're all going to die in WWIII because no-one can pay anyone else and the only money left in the world belongs to a peasant farming rice in Turkmenistan, who are then invaded by every other nation. Of course, the peasant, owning the only money left in the world, can pay an army of mercenaries, and win the war, and the other nations will decide it's not worth the effort, and will probably return to a simple bartering system, which neatly avoids the issue of have to play the global big-boys game with a Turkmenistani peasant-king-warlord, which would really irritate the Western governments, not to mention China and India.

So, believing, as I do, in self-regulating systems on every level, human interaction included, the minutiae of politics interest me somewhat less than an analysis of the patterns in the paths of falling paper when spilled out of a lorry moving at high speed round a corner. That is to say, I recognise it's importance in helping us understand the world, but it's normally a boring pile of nonsense that makes sense only because we accept that the system ought to work this way and not another.

That said, the escapades this week of Italian Prime Minister, Silvio Berlusconi, are neither boring, nor depressing. They're quite hilarious, largely because they make the Duke of Edinburgh's efforts at being a overzealously Conservative Post-Imperialist upper class twit look like the doting old uncle who used to be outrageous, back in the day, but who hasn't yet the grace to step aside and let the others take up the mantle of banditry.

And yes, this has already been covered by last night's Have I Got News for You, the BBC's fantastic method of forcefully injecting large doses of current affairs by coating them in the sugary deceptive casing of comedy, but I think it deserves to be told as many times as possible, for those that didn't see it and for the virtue of its own hilarity. If you want to see people far funnier than I explain it, it's here, but be quick: the iPlayer doesn't show it for long.

The most popular mistakes that Berlusconi has made recently are with regard to seventeen year old girls: models to be precise. Yes, he has been spending more time hanigng around seventeen year old girls than he has with his own children, if we are to believe his wife. His family controls the company Mediaset, which is a little controversy in itself, but does give him a reason to turn up to the party which marked Noemi Letizia's rise to a position of repsonsiblity within the company. Of course, the media only seem to care that this party also happened to be her eighteenth birthday party, and that the 72 year old Prime Minister seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much in her presence. The specifics are all up to personal taste, but you'd at least have though he'd have warned his wife, given his previous antics with young girls, and given that he never turned up to the eighteenth birthday parties of his own children. Instead, he's now faced with a potential divorce!

But from there, it only gets better. After the recent Earthquakes in l'Aquila, Berlusconi told the reugees living in tent cities that they should view the experience like a big camping trip. Then, meeting Fabiola Carrieri, a doctor dispensing aid to the refugees, he told her that he wouldn't mind being resucitated by her, which didn't go down too well with bystanders, though the doctor in question seemed not to worry greatly. To a victim he wished a swift recovery, so that he might share a dance with her, and then came the icing on the plump cake of insults: turning to a black priest and Red Cross aid worker from Africa, he complimented them on their tans, expressing a desire to stay and get one of his own. Bewildered, the pair did not know how to respond, so Berlusconi, in his wonderful wisdom, decided to hug the aid worker close and tell him, "Hold me tight and call me Papa!" Slightly ironic, you could say, since that is apparently the nickname given to him by the afformentioned Miss Letizia. One wonders if he were perhaps a little confused as to who he was hugging!

Of course, not to be outdone by the silver-tongued Italian, Prince Philip reportedly replied to the Queen, in response to her asking why Berlusconi had to shout over he shoulder at President Obama during the G20 summit, "How else would he sell his ice creams?"

Isn't it nice to see our heads of state acting with such dignity?

La Viene Asphyxie

2009-04-30T02:35:00.003+01:00

In hours small emotions subtle
bury thoughts that would produce,
words and pictures hold no truce,
so tears in fiction shelter
rotten goblins in the works:
nothing here but silly quirks.
Sleep must come, but wasted ways
with hope undone another day.

Leabhar an Tiarna an Eascann: Paidir

2009-03-22T04:20:00.002Z

Oh Eel Lord, Father of all things wet, we unto thee praise the name of the Fry Childer. Though thinkest the unbelievers that thou silly be, we, thy true worshipers, know the divine glory of Eel-like splendour. Unto us grant thy fishy goodness, and bless us forevermore, lest transformed be we into gelatinous features of green and blue, and unto the Devil of the Firmament be cast our vision, that the worshipers of the Dry Ones seek to undo thy slippery grace.

Amen

Leabhar an Tiarna an Eascann: Tuiscint Aon

2009-03-22T04:14:00.003Z

When consumed is the Eel Lord by lesser lords, like unto the Sardine Lord and the Dolphin Lord, he shall into them and through them be transformed, that his glory be moved forward in manners serpentine and unknwon.

Tiarna an Eascann

2009-03-22T03:56:00.003Z

Hey ho, here we go, off the Spring Festival!
Hey ho, here we go, pagans are a-rising-o!

Such was the cry of our group as we approached to door. The party-goers inside seemed shocked at the clamour of our march, which made no sense, since they'd claimed to be celebrating the Spring Equinox. Clearly this is a festival of pagan origin, and as such, we entirely in place.

So, in we went, attired and addressed as that which we ought otherwise not have been, until we were asked what particular sect of paganism we followed. Presented with such a taxing question, only one answer could bring itself to mind:

The glory of the Eel Lord reignst supreme upon thee!

Further readings from the Holy Tome of the Eel Lord shall follow.

Geewaaz hokokeez!

2009-03-21T15:09:00.000Z

Roleplaying is such a geeky form of entertainment, but love it much anyway, we do. And if you're wondering why that phrase sounded like something that might spring forth from the mouth a small green alien who lives on a swamp planet and claims to be connected to everyone and everything through the Force, and goes by the name of Yoda, that was deliberate.

You see, the other night we were playing a Star Wars roleplaying game, set during the Clone Wars, and we happenned to be speaking to an NPC(non player character) called Losa Dymos. At some point later, I lost track of where exactly we broke into song. Here follows said song:

There's a shark in my bacta, dear Losa, dear Losa,
There's a shark in my bacta, dear Losa, a shark.

Then shoot it dear Jedi, dear Jedi, dear Jedi,
Then shoot it dear Jedi, dear Jedi, shoot it!

With what shall I shoot it, dear Losa, dear Losa?
With what shall I shoot it, dear Losa, with what?

With the Death Star, dear Jedi, dear Jedi, dear Jedi,
With the Death Star, dear Jedi, dear Jedi, Death Star!

But it has not been built yet, dear Losa, dear Losa,
But it has not been built yet, dear Losa, not yet.

So build it, dear Jedi, dear Jedi, dear Jedi,
So build, dear Jedi, dear Jedi, build it!

Then bring me the general, dear Losa, dear Losa,
Then bring me the general, dear Losa, bring him.

What general, crazed Jedi, crazed Jedi, crazed Jedi?
What general, crazed Jedi, crazed Jedi, which one?

The one with the Dethplans, dear Losa, dear Losa!
The one with the Dethplans, dear Losa, Dethplans!!

Δεν βρέθηκαν λέξεις

2009-03-15T00:11:00.001Z

I was struck this evening by just how different my groups of friends are. I'll illustrate with a couple of points from the past two days.

Last night I went to metal gig on campus. Having black metal bands on campus is something of a revolutionary turn of events, and while they weren't monumentally good examples of the genre, they have at least paved the way, I hope, for more to come.

But that's by the by. The really important events were what came afterwards. The friends I'd gone with had gone home, and more friends of mine had arrived. We retired to a house afterwards for further fun. I must iterate at this point that it wasn't just any old house that we'd decided looked nice and barged into, shutting the present, previously sleeping occupants in a downstairs cupboard while we attended to our nefarious deeds. No, it was, in fact, a house currently rented by two of the group of friends, so we were perfectly safe and lawful while performing our evil acts. In any case after a good discussion of the failing UK education system and the merits of the films of Guillemo del Toro, along with a brief definition of what the term "magical realism" means with regard to the narrative arts, we settled down to a good game of Mario Kart, several rounds of cheese on toast, and collaborative story writing. The latter activity, a regular piece of entertainment with this group, being my most literary minded friends, always introduces some bizarre and interesting elements to our collective imaginations During this particular session arose several interesting sentences, the most interesting of which that I can still recall involving Kant, his opinion on moustache related problems and their implications for high society, and the drunken polar bears that lack the aforemnentioned's Categorical Imperative.

Further conversation led us to the question, "Has anybody got Kant's moustache?" This fantastic line brought to mind all sorts of interesting situations where such a question might be appropriate. Perhaps Kant has lost his facial hair, and was chasing around the house in an effort to regain it, only to hear a muffled scream from Matron's chamber as she discovered the treacherous utilitarian fluffball. Or perhaps not. At some point I believe further expansion upon this question may yield important findings for the philosophical world at large. I feel the significance of moustaches in the works of great thinkers has been massively overlooked, and needs a lot more research. On that front, watch this space.

However, contrast the above scene with this: tonight I spent the evening in the company of friend's of my housemate, playing Mirco Machines, drinking Cherry Coke, and generally laughing a lot. Being no kind of console gamer, I did even less well at Micro Machines than I did at the above Mario Kart, but in both cases, the company was good and the fun did not evaporate on my fifteenth consecutive loss. The real joy, in this case, was sitting in a room full of geeks who, all of a far more scientific bent than myself, led the humour in somewhat esoteric directions, interspersed with regular outbursts of, "Guns!", "Mines!" and occasionally, "Missiles!" I felt like I was hanging out with poor souls suffering from Militant Tourette Syndrome. I wouldn't have been surprised if one them actually started spitting tanks and launching aircraft from a runway made of words. This would make for a very interesting war, with verbal combat machines crunching their way forward, unleashing powerful metaphors upon their enemies and turning them into liquefied puddles of letters on the lexical battleground.

But then, perhaps I'm mixing up the groups. Somehow, while I can easily create situations that bridge the gap between their two styles of humour, I'm not quite sure they would appreciate one another to the fullest. Or maybe they would, and the world would never recover. Perhaps it's better I keep such things in my imagination. At least there I have some measure of control of it, even if it is illusiory.

Oio Quildeo

2009-03-10T09:56:00.000Z

Is it really March already? Is it that long since I last posted?! Must do something about that.

Having found that more and more song on Deezer are unavailable due to copyright issues, I took a look at Grooveshank. Seems to be a few more songs available there, so I'm going to be using this for my Linda Equieo from now on, or at least hope that one of the two sites will have the songs I'm looking for. Unfortunately, there's no autoplay option on the Grooveshank widget, so if you want to hear the song, you'll have to scroll down and press play. Also note the Last FM widget which displays the last few songs I've listened to on said site.

This week: Laura Marling. An artist I was introduced to by a friend, who had fallen in love with the song Ghosts. I was initially unsure what I thought of the song, but since listening to her other songs, I have fallen heavily on the side the is deeply enamoured with it. That said, I am even more enamoured with My Manic and I. Pay close attention to the poetry of the lyrics. I particularly like the third and fourth lines: "He wants to die where nobody can see him, but the beauty of his death will carry on, so..."

Speculum sanus.

2008-12-29T13:24:00.000Z

Check this out:

http://www.megaswf.com/view/ae5be0fc5f3cc7b1ca122edffe6489b1.html

I laughed so hard!

Joyeux Nöel!

2008-12-24T14:11:00.001Z

Just a quick post, in light of the fact that I'll not be online much tomorrow, if at all, to say one thing to everyone that bothers to read:

Merry Christmas!
Eat, drink and be merry! XD

Sáwel, Anima, Ψυχή: Dréamcræft, Musica, Mουσική

2008-12-21T09:34:00.000Z

Hey, look at my nice shiny new banner! *points at the title bar*

Isn't it awesome?! The esteemed Emma Darkly, writer of Sunlight Spiders made it for me, so in return, I'm going to plug her blog!

Follow the link! Go read the mind altering text that will change your life forever! *Grins Maniacally*

Also: new week, new artist, new song. Seth Lakeman is a incredible artist, who's every track amazes me in a subtle and interesting ways every time I listen. I was initially hit by the pure, simplistic energy of "Kitty Jay", in which Seth uses a vigorous attack on his violin to set your pulse racing as though you were pursued relentlessly by a pack of slavering hunting dogs in Ferraris, all them holding long wicked scythes from which streams of a crimson liquid that you can only assume to be blood sprays off the blade as they speed after you, yet he simultaneously, with his perfectly wavering vocals, coaxes from your mind such glum ponderings that you can't help but wonder what tragic plight befell the poor girl that went by the name of Kitty Jay (who, incidentally, was a real girl, who's story is easy to find with a quick Google search).

However, on listening to his albums again, another track stood out: The Bold Knight. Not as blatantly potent as Kitty Jay, this song follows a more standard format of verse, chorus, verse, chorus etc. However, the gentle pace of the tune really suit the lyrics, but as with the previous song, he builds a subtly different picture with the music. His violin builds in just enough celerity into the song to turn the lyrics into something darker than a simple eulogy to a brave man and his love.

I have to wonder if Mr. Lakeman is used to expressing dual notions in his life, and this is why his music seems filled with them. It's certainly one of the main reasons that it speaks to me so loudly. We all live in a world of mixed emotions with a thousand different ideas passing through our heads each day. Anything that can help mould even some of these notions into something resembling a coherent and continuous process is immediately appealing to me.

Until next time.

Myttin Da

2008-12-13T06:14:00.000Z

So, yet again, I've not posted in a long time. I've been rather caught up in a long string of interrupting events that come under the general heading of "life". Still, I'm here, and with a new tune to please your ears and minds.

Show of Hands are a superb folk group from Devon, who make dull songs interesting and good song ring with a life previously unknown! I came across the band on recommendation from a friend of a friend, and I'm very glad to have met the man, for his advice was well given. To quote their home page:

"An alchemist couldn’t have come up with a more potent, magical mix than that of Phil Beer, who can, as The Scotsman observed, “play nearly every stringed instrument known to man” and the inspired Steve Knightley, described by Mike Harding at BBC Radio 2’s 2007 Folk Awards as “one of England’s greatest singer songwriters”."

This song is among my favourites, with its punchy tune and interesting lyrics. It flows with the spirit of English folk, and the mockery of the French defeat in Russia hails from times gone by. A wonderful little tune.

In other news, I've got started writing two big projects. The first is a short story that may develop into a novella,named Winter Plumage, about madness, reality, fantasy, and the difficulty a man who has suffered both has in distinguishing the two. The struggles of Bran to figure out what is real and what is not real conclude in a somewhat interesting conclusion, reminiscent, perhaps, of the series Life on Mars.

The second project is a roleplaying game system and setting about the struggle for Order to gain a foothold over the omnipresent Chaos in the multitude of worlds that have suffered the revenge of Tiamat for the total dominance of Marduk. The players will be former servants of those monolithic entities, who have forsaken their masters in favour of "The Sublime Dance", a world view that encourages Order and Chaos to work within and through each other in an eternal balancing act. They now travel between the many worlds in search of a way to right the balance and allow Order to once again rise from the Chaos that pervades everything. The specifics of this will change as time goes by, but that's the general premise.

Well, until next time, enjoy!

Non sono morto!

2008-10-01T19:54:00.000+01:00

I haven't posted for quite some time, largely on account of working 50 hours a week, and as this weeks looks to be heading closer to 60 hours when all overtime is said and done, I thought I'd explain the latest addition to the sidebar.

"Kayamanan" means "treasure" in the Tagalog language of the Philippines, and treasure is exactly what I intend to share through it. It will contain links to files I've uploaded to Mediafire, for you to take, peruse, share further, and generally enjoy as you will. Already added are a number of Original Soundtracks to films, and the Fourth Edition Dungeons and Dragons books, the core three, and the Forgotten Realms supplements, along with the Adventurer's Vault, which has the feel of being slightly less well playtested than the other books,and as a result has let a few unbalanced items through the otherwise tight net that has surrounded what is a superb continuation to the heroic fantasy RPing tradition.

Kayamanan can be found at the bottom of Answége Swefnas, and will be updated when I find the time and inclination to do so. Watch this space! (Or, alternatively, subscribe to the RSS feed so that you don't check the site to find nothing for two months and then 17 updates in one day, as is likely to be the case.)

On a final note, Linda Equieo hasn't been updated as frequently as its name suggests it should be, a situation I aim to rectify, but for now, enjoy the sound of Italian composer Riccardo Principe and his collaboration, Corde Oblique, and the third track their new album, Volonta d'Arte.

Dis ramp laivli-op mi!

2008-09-10T23:22:00.000+01:00

I'm in a really big OST mood now. I've been listening to lots of different soundtracks: Gladiator, Batmans Begins, The Dark Knight, Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, to name a few. One in particular impressed me, and to some extent surprised me: Pirates of the Caribbean. The score is actually better than the film. Klaus Badelt captures the feel of the first film precisely and superbly, and goes so much further. Hans Zimmer's continuation of the theme for the other two films creates scores that make me forget how disappointing the second film was, and how shockingly bad the third was! Listening to them without the films in front of me, I can recall only the best parts! A truly magnificent accomplishment.

וְאֶ֨ת־זָכָ֔ר לֹ֥א תִשְׁכַּ֖ב מִשְׁכְּבֵ֣י אִשָּׁ֑ה תֹּועֵבָ֖ה הִֽוא׃

2008-08-25T22:53:00.000+01:00

I love Stumble Upon. It's an amazing little widget that enables me to find such gems as this:

Why Can't I Own a Canadian?
October 2002

Dr. Laura Schlessinger is a radio personality who dispenses advice to people who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by a east coast resident, which was posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them:

When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?

A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this?

Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?

Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Your devoted fan,
Jim

Taken from here.

Spero in Futurum

2008-08-24T20:15:00.000+01:00

I had just about given up caring about politics until recently. The complete lack of progress in any area that meant a damned thing, the constant return to same nonsensical notions that tear apart the work of those that came before, and the constant barriers to good ideas all made me give up and stop reading anything about politics at all most of the time. And then, not long ago, I found this. After a little more research, this and this.

I suddenly felt a refreshed interest in the state of global politics. Here is something worth fighting for! here is a reason to actually register with the electoral roll and bother to vote! Here is an initiative that will solve a great number of problems across the planet.

The project already has support from Gordon Brown, Sarkozy and Al Gore, and the Pacific Northwest has already starting laying the ground work for a Smart Energy Grid. Furthermore, the basis for long-distance redistribution of energy is already in place, it just needs to be used more efficiently.

I think there is one quote from the TerraWatts homepage that sums up the entire situation:

"Enough solar energy falls on the surface of the earth every 40 minutes to meet 100 percent of the entire world's energy needs for a full year."

I don't know where the information for that came from, but even if they're wrong, the margin for error can't have been so large that the solar arrays in deserts around the world, combined with the wind farms and tidal generators and so many other sustainable energy sources that can be placed in opportune locations, will not be able to more than adequately cover our needs.

This article rightly asks what benefits Africa would receive from the planned EU Saharan photovoltaic generator. However, the idea that 0.3% of the Saharan solar energy can power the whole of Europe is quite a powerful one. Let's be really skeptical, and say that this is an estimate based on reduced usage, which the public is unlikely to go for. Let's be even more skeptical, and say that the statistics are miscalculated. Let's triple the usage rate, to 0.9%, and then increase by a factor of 10, to 9%. That's a massive increase, but still it's a tiny fraction of the desert's potential.

I'm sure more research needs to go into just how much this will affect the weather patterns of the world: after all, the Saraha is one the biggest forces controlling European weather. But let's say we can get away with siphoning off 15% of it's thermal energy without causing problems. That still leaves 6% percent of the energy for use by Africa itself, according to my outrageous overcompensation. I'm sure my estimates are totally wrong, but they are merely there to illustrate a point: The amount of energy that can be safely generated by a Saharan solar generator will likely outweigh the amount used by Europe, leaving a lot free for the improvement of Africa.

And the benefits do not stop at clean energy generation and aversion of further global warming. I quote the first article linked above:

" Saharan sunlight can generate three times the energy from photovoltaic (PV) panels that European sunlight can. While this may seem like a very Eurocentric view, the plan is not without its benefits for Africa.

Using Solar Thermal Generators, instead of conventional PV panels, would allow the solar power plants to be used as desalination facilities providing clean drinking and irrigation water to an area desperately in need of it. The project would involve investing over €1bn each year until 2050, much of which would feed into African economies. The prospects for job creation in the Sahara region are huge and energy production would provide countries in the region with a clean, renewable, inexhaustible resource for export."

Furthermore, the co-operation required for such an initiative force nations to find peaceful solutions to disagreements.

All in all, I think this initiative is the best idea to come up since the turn of the Millenium regarding energy production, without exception. I'm thoroughly impressed, and I actually believe that, maybe, just maybe, humanity is worth something after all.

I Enquie Vane

2008-08-22T15:18:00.000+01:00

Yes, it's another Friday, and time to show you another song that has impressed me suitably.

The fitting guitar work of Buckethead, combined with the wonderful vocals or System of a Down's Serj Tankian, and the beautiful voice of Azam Ali. Superb work, wonderful for a spot of gentle relaxation.

Soittopyyntö

2008-08-20T18:09:00.001+01:00

The wondertubes have arrived!!!!

Yes, finally we have been connected to the world outside, via the brilliance of the interweb. OK, does anyone see the irony in a bunch of geeks and nerds claiming that because they have access to the internet, that the real world is here?

Hmm, perhaps a lifestyle reorganisation is in order.
Nah, I can't be bothered!

Une écran des belles chansons

2008-08-15T11:08:00.000+01:00

So, Wednesday has come and gone, and the divine presence of internet and phone has not descended, and now it's Friday, and I'm on campus for the purpose of accessing the interweb and all its splendorous fruit.

In other wonderful news, the guitar is still as brilliant as before: Carulli sounds perfect on it, and Bach isn't far wrong either! :D

I've also started work, finally, after a long six years of planning, on my novel. It still has no name, but, after a solid 6 hours of work to create linguistics naming schemes, all the main characters and the main cities do! This is something of a monumentous breakthrough, as it means I am now free to write whenever I want to without withering at the thought of having to create so many consitent names!

Also, a film! From a crap film last time, to an amazing one this time.

To conclude my Aronofsky addiction, I watched a film I'd read a lot about and of which I had high expectations: The Fountain. I was not disappointed.

OK, so the flim has the usual Aronofsky "huh?" factor, but in this case it comes across more as a sense of enjoyable bewilderment than the irritating confusion I felt at Π. The film starts during a Spanish expedition to Maya, and then cuts to a doctor researching drugs for brain tumors in apes. An unexpected success leads him to suspect some rather strange things about the book his wife is writing about said same Spanish expedition. As terribly sad as Requiem for a Dream, but infinitely more beautiful, this is truly Aronofsky's masterpiece.

As usual, Clint Mansell composed the score, and while, for me, his magnum opus will always be the score to Requiem, he certainly did a brilliant job with the score.

Finally, much as I love Lux Aeterna, it is time to move Linda Equieo away from Clint Mansell's brilliance, and towards a voice I was introduced to a while ago by a good friend, but didn't pay much attention to until I heard it again on Radio Chanson Français on Deezer. Ne Me Quitte Pas receives much more acclaim than other, in my opinion, more deserving works of Jaques Brel, and this is my very favourite: La Ville S'Endormait. Moving, passionate and sung with a voice that vibrates through you to the very core of your soul, this song is truly brilliant.

仇!

2008-08-04T15:59:00.001+01:00

I haven't blogged for a while, on account of having restricted internet access due to moving house (and the incompetence of BT, a subject to which I will return shortly). But I want to start this somewhat polyfunctional post by saying thank you.

Now before you get worried, no, I've not converted to Christianity and suffered from an undeniable urge to thank the "Good Lord" for all his wonderous creations. Nor have I had some kind of revelation and feel need to thank the universe, Minbari style, for the nature of its own existence.

This thank you is a whole lot more mundane, and therefore, in my opinion, a whole lot more meaningful. It goes to all those who have helped me out through my efforts and failings to get a job in this town of emptiness and disappointment. Those who have helped me financially, those who have helped me with food, and those who have helped me by being good friends and thereby preventing me become so fed up that I can't be bothered to search any more. I'll not list names, but you all know who you are, and I want to thank you all, and say that I hope I can repay you all, and be to you what you are to me: my good friends.

Now that you've all felt really good about yourselves, and as a result decidedly uncomfortable about it, I'll move on to something slightly more comical.

In the new house, which, by the way, is the most amazing, beautiful little house I've lived in since leaving home, we decided to pool our DVD collections for the purpose of communal viewing. Scanning these collections, I found there to be very few films within them that I'd not seen. One of these happened to be Stealth. I'd been warned of it's complete lack of value, but I wanted to judge for myself. So I sat down to watch, and was shortly joined by my housemates.

We proceeded to spend the next two hours mocking the lack of plot, which we quickly decided was an unplot, and complaining about the cheesy love story tacked onto the pathetic carcass of a film in a twisted attempt to make it appeal to even more of the square-eyed, spiral-brained Hollywood audience, whose main criteria for liking a film seems to be the amount of naked flesh and/or explosions and gunfire. Stealth didn't have much in the way of naked flesh, but it more than made up for it with the amount of booms, bangs, crashes, cracks, shots, cuts, grazes, scrapes, and other forms of mutilations people, machinery, and cinema. If I didn't know better I'd think they'd just opened a file labeled "Action Film", selected the "Aeroplanes" option, and in the "Tools" menu, picked "Futuristic Skin". Add "Super-Advanced AI with access to weaponry and a capacity to learn", and you've just pissed all over what was Asimov's wonderfully well trodden soil.

Let's take a quick iventory of the film:

-US Navy
-Dodgy Captain
-Good Captain
-Three Ace Pilot: The insubordinate white squadron leader, the woman who carried out risk assesments before blowing shit up and is in love with the white guy, and the black guy, who dies.
-Three super-advanced aircraft
-One even more super-advanced aircraft, with a super-advanced AI, named EDI(because all machines have acronyms for names, but we have to give it one that looks like a human name! Thus is the law of Hollywood! This one is so obscure the only thing they can find to fill the letters required is "Extreme Deep Invader", which created am inundeo for which the film is rated 15.), that goes AWOL, and then reforms and helps the white guy go AWOL too!
-Terroists in a random country ending in -stan. (Actually, it was Tajikistan, but I'm sure they only chose it because nobody in the USA knows of it's existence, so they can blow it up however they choose!)
-North Korea
-US Aircraft in South Korea ("Allies"?)
-Russia (So it can pretend to be a Cold War film, which, had it been, it would have been a thousand times better.)
-The good guys win through nothing more than their divine mandate to be "awesome"

The only good thing about the film is the voice acting of EDI, who I thought was rather good at putting down the stupid American military personel's comments. For instance, one of the pilots asks EDI to stop rampaging accross Russia and return to base. You could almost see the processing zipping through it's CPU: "I'm the most advanced combat machine on the planet. You can't stop me. I've got a bigger payload than you.... etc." The upshot of this is EDI streaking off into the distance, proceeded by a wonderfully simple, "Negative."

But then EDI, who has an enormous payload, decides that the best way to take out a Hind is not to blow it up with a missile or rocket, or to gun it down, but instead, to fly into it, thus allowing the writers to portray him as a "Good Guy" as he dies, parodied by the funeral of "Ethnic Minority Pilot #23789346576". (Although he is not really dead, says the glowing red light in the wreckage of the cock-pit after the credits! Oh no! Totally unpredictable film writer's technique for allowing a sequel!)

After wasting two hours of our lives on this drivel, we couldn't be bothered to get up and take out the DVD, so we let the credits roll. As we did so, we noticed something that simultaneously sent us into hysterics, and explained a lot about the film: "Music by BT." Wikipedia informs me that "BT" refers to a fellow by the name of "Brain Transeau", who is apparently fairly proficient at composing film scores (though none of repetoire stands out as being iconic masterpieces like to the work Clint Mansell, Hans Zimmer or Elmer Bernstein), and not to "British Telecom," but it would be so much more hilarious if it were actually sponsored by BT, and the entire working staff of BT had been asked to compose two notes each, which were then rearranged by a superb new AI system that they had invented to manage their wireless connections, called "Extreme Distance Internet." This would at least explain the complete incompetence of the writers of both film and score. Perhaps they could then blame the instability of their service on a AI going AWOL.

To close this behemoth of a post, I need to advertise to the world the new subject of joy in my life: I have a new guitar! Bought for me by my wonderful Grandad, the Hohner classical is *beautiful*, with a lovely rich, mellow tone that, on a single pluck, or strum transports me to a mountainside in Spain, upon which is perched an incongruously placed Moorish palace, that strangely resembles Alhambra. At this point, I must avoid confusion by pointing out that I cannot play Recuerdos de l'Alhambra, and I'll not be able to do so for a while yet, much as I wish it were otherwise!

Well, until Wednesday, when the wondertubes shall decend from the heavens and bless my new home with their presence, may you all be protected from BT, bad films and penguins with chainsaws.

Τι Εινει;

2008-07-29T11:19:00.000+01:00

So after getting my Requiem for a Dream fix, I decided to watch Π, Aronofsky's first film. I've concluded that it makes sense only until the last minute of the film. At that point the prior brilliance of the plot is overshadowed by a sensation of, "What?"

So, I decided to check out what IMDB had to say about it. While somewhat disappointed that IMDB took it's synopsis from Wikipedia, I did find some form of answer to the mystery. It was exactly what it looked like.

So, I'm still a mite confused about it, but I suppose that was the point. Perhaps I'll have more luck with The Fountain.

Reconnection!

2008-07-28T15:09:00.000+01:00

Temporarily, I am reconnected to the web, by virtue of staying with an engineer for a few days!

It feels great!

So, the first thing I did was update Linda Equieo.

It's been a long while since I watched Requiem for a Dream, but hearing Clint Mansell's amazing soundtrack has made me want to see it all over again. The entire score is written with a very minimalist style, as variations on a very simple, repetitive theme. This technique is not uncommon among film score writers, but Clint Mansell takes it to a sublime extreme, as he follows very much in the school of Philip Glass with his masterful score to the superb film.

Lux Aeterna is my favourite variation, with it's greater length and slightly punchier melody than the others.

Enjoy!

Putains Brittaniques!

2008-07-15T01:13:00.000+01:00

I love BT.

No really, I do!

OK, OK, I'm being sarcastic, you caught me.

So, for those of you who are wondering where I've gone, let me elaborate on the above statement. BT have decided that since I asked for the broadband to be disconnected on the 26th of July, that cutting us off on the 14th was much more fun. Since we don't plan to be using them in the new house, for another year of total ineptitude and pathetic service, they'll not reconnect us for the remaining two weeks.

So, instead, I'm writing this using a neighbour's unprotected wireless connection. I've no idea which neighbour it is, but if I did, I'd buy them a bottle of wine, even on my limited funds! Their slow network to which I am barely connected is satisfying my need to remain in touch with the world!

Praise unprotected networks!
Praise unknown neighbours!
Damn BT!

Leoð Dryhtlic

2008-07-10T11:48:00.000+01:00

Under the false pretense that I'm some kind of music critic who gets paid huge amounts to do what I love, I'm going to feature a song or piece of music that has caught my ear each week from now on. I'm not sure if anyone will listen to any of the songs, or if they will like them if they do, but I'm going to do it anyway, because I want to.

See Rule Z.

This feature, entitled "Song of the Week" in Quenya, can be found at the bottom of the page.

Enjoy.

Ritmo Supremo

2008-07-05T10:20:00.000+01:00

Even though I discovered them a month or so ago, I've recently taking an renewed interest in this duo, and I've been plugging them to all my friends of late, so I figured it was time to put them up here, in case any serious music fans have got around to reading this in the week since its creation.

Rodrigo y Gabriela are a Mexican pair who have achieved international acclaim in the past two years for their unique blend of flamenco rhythm techniques with mainstream melodies. As a classical guitarist who has been trying, without a great deal of success, to master basic flamenco techniques for some time now, who also happens to like rock music, you might expect I'd be interested in such a pairing, especially in light of the fact they have masterfully covered Metalica's "Orion" and "One", Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven" and Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here". However, the skill that this pair demonstrate is clear to almost anyone. Rodrigo's lead picking makes me envious, while Gabriela's percussion and rhythm combo makes his titanic efforts look about as difficult as walking on a slightly uneven pavement.

I thought finding a recording of one of the above tracks to embed, but you really have to see Gabriela's hands in full motion to understand her supreme ability. So, I've found a YouTube video of one of my favourites of their tracks, Tamacún, performed at the Cambridge Folk Festival. If you like the guitar in any acoustic form, you'll love this!

Bellum Corporatus

2008-07-03T15:27:00.000+01:00

Scanning the news this afternoon, I found this article, reporting the US court ruling that Google must hand over the log of all Youtube users, due to a copyright infringement case by Viacom. I mentioned this to my housemate, who pointed out that Google has so much money at its disposal, it could probably counter-sue the US government itself! Then our imagination went into "comic" mode.

Imagine the headlines: Google sues US government, now owns America.

Picture the benevolent corporate state of Googalinor, sinking their formidable funds into new and ingenious methods of media distribution, complete with the most sophisticated search engine around! TV companies are subsumed, and replaced by two networks: Youtube and Google Video: The former showing anything made by anyone who happens to want to be on TV, the latter showing absolutely any show that GoogleGov has managed to buy the rights to, simultaneously, allowing to watch whatever you want, all the time! The music industry gets bought, in it's entirety, and all music is distributed freely.

GoogleGov pays all people in TV, film and music out of its own pocket, on an equal basis, meaning they are free from the worries of making money to make stuff that's actually worthwhile! The trivial mass produced crap gets dropped, and the media of Googalinor is renowned world wide for its superb calibre.

GoogleGov expands to books next, sifting the trash novels out of mainstream reading, and then moves on to non-entertainment sectors. Supermarkets are now just a row of booths with an automated collection system to select the items you've just typed into the screen before you from the warehouse behind it all. But, for those of you that want to go buy your veg from a real grocers, GoogleGov keeps afloat small businesses of all kinds, buying them to protect them, but preserving the rights to freedom and taking no profit from them at all: after all, altruistic GoogleGov is only interested in bringing down the big companies that makes everybody's life that much more annoying!

And so on: the possibilities are endless!

Now, practicalities aside (and the fact that a counter-sue would presumably end up with Google being able to buy Viacom, not the US government!), it would just be COOL!

It's O.K. to have silly fantasies like this.

Yes it is!

Refer to Rule Z.

Of course, GoogleGov has enemies, oh yes, the worst enemies of all! Having fled to other nations, evil insidious enemies return in an attempt to usurp the power of the righteous GoogleGov. From the UK, the iTesco Amalgamation has just swept across Europe, and has now met fierce resistance from the Intel/Saab Conglomerate. The victor will surely come gunning for GoogleGov next.

But far to the East, hidding, waiting, biding it's time, is a much darker enemy, a foe so sinister it topple the great light of GoogleGov and plunge Googlinor into profound and malicious darkness: The MicroSony Alliance!

Un Petit Livre Etrange

2008-07-01T20:09:00.000+01:00

I was reminded recently of a delightful little book a teacher lent me back in high school: The d'Antin Manuscript, Mots d'Heures: Gousses, Rames. It's rather interesting, and it's not in French. No, really it's not! This excerpt should prove everything:

Un petit d'un petit [1]
S'étonne aux Halles [2]
Un petit d'un petit
Ah! degrés te fallent [3]
Indolent qui ne sort cesse [4]
Indolent qui ne se mène [5]
Qu'importe un petit d'un petit
Tout Gai de Reguennes. [6]

[1] The inevitable result of a child marriage.
[2] The subject of this epigrammatic poem is obviously from the provinces, since a native Parisian would take this famous old market for granted.
[3] Since this personage bears no titles, we are led to believe that the poet writes of one of those unfortunate idiot-children than in olden days existed as a living skeleton in their family's closet. I am inclined to believe, however, that this is a fine piece of misdirection and that the poet is actualy writing of some famous political prisoner, or the illegitimate offspring of some noble house. The Man in the Iron Mask, perhaps?
[4,5] Another misdirection. Obviously it was not laziness that prevented this person's going out and taking himself places.
[6] He was obviously prevented from fulfilling his destiny, since his is compared to Gai de Reguennes. This was a young squire (to one of his uncles, a Gaillard of Normandy) who died at the tender age of twelve of a surfeit of Saracen arrows before the walls of Acre in 1191.

See, not French! No seriously, take a closer look: if you know how to pronounce French accurately, read it out loud. You'll be surprised!

Other excerpts can be found here.

Anyone have any idea what the third rhyme is supposed to be?

Really, I'm going to buy this as soon as I get some disposable cash!

Amat Universi Universos?

2008-07-01T11:04:00.000+01:00

This is a slightly more sober entry than I had intended, but it something I have been thinking about much recently, so here it is.

A couple of days ago, I was reminded that there are still places in the Western world where the word "atheist" is as much of a curse as "homosexual" was in the 1950s. A Canadian friend of mine recently explained to her parents that one of her friends had "come out" as an atheist. Her parents' reaction convinced her that doing likewise would not be a good idea at this time.

Now, I'm up for religious tolerance as much as anyone else: but it's not tolerance if those that don't believe live in fear of their views being known. Being British, it is an abhorrent shock to think that atheism is not as widely accepted in all "civilised" lands as it is here. Of course, if we look back at the causes, it clear to see what is going on in the USA, which seems, from my strange semi-educated semi-European perspective, to be as close to a theocracy as one can get while maintaining the illusion of a democratic republic.

During the two World Wars, Britain, and Europe as a whole, lost huge swathes of its population, while the USA, being late entrants to both conflicts, and not sending anything like the number of troops, didn't feel the impact as sharply as we did. I'm not talking just about the number of men lost, but of the percentages of the population constituted by these losses.

A quick look at Wikipedia, which, with all its flaws, is becoming more reliable everyday, shows us what I'm talking about.

The UK, whose population prior to World War I was 45.4 million, recorded 994,138 casualties, with a further 1,663,435 wounded. This is close to 2.2% of our population dead. While this pales in comparison to the French losses of 4.2%, and the startlingly high and worryingly unknown Ottoman losses of 23.4%, it is clear how a nation already much more relaxed about religion that it once was would begin to lose its faith. The Ottomans, of course, being a theocracy, held on to their religion, if not, ultimately, their state. The Russians, whose losses were close to 2%, have gone through so much more social upheaval, it is difficult for a casual observer like myself to say anything much about their religious state. The French, for their part, went the same way as the UK, even more so for their history of embracing change.

By comparison, the losses of the USA were 0.12% of their population.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_I_casualties

World War II was an entirely new kind of conflict, seeing monumental civilian losses, and over triple the total death toll of WWI. Here again, UK losses, as a percentage of the total population, more than tripled US losses.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_II_casualties

Of course, the population did not care about numbers and statistics. They just knew the hardships they had suffered. Those that had fought had seen their friends fall, had seen the horrors committed by both sides, and the destruction wrought across the continent by the conquest of the Axis. Those that stayed behind had gone through rationing, put up with the loss of loved ones whose bodies were often never returned to them, and bombs raining from the sky with no more warning than a siren at the end of the street.

It is not difficult to see how in the social climate of the time, many people's faith was strained beyond breaking point. Over the next 30 years, the "Great British Nation", devoid of its Empire, or even the belief that we should have one any more, lost what faith it had left, until now those that believe are either relics of a bygone age, or an unexpected few on what is not quite the fringe of society, but only because the loss of dogma had spread a tolerance of the religion on which we built our once great Empire. The US had only to contend with the loss of it's soldiers, a loss that should never be belittled, but which cannot have had such a massive social impact as was experienced in any part of Europe.

I personally have reaped the benefits of this social shift, being free to make up my own mind about the realities of the universe, how and if I wish to worship them. Of course, I have also seen a worrying backlash in my own generation against religion, so that many people now view "Christian" as a insult. By proxy, these strange, unknown religion from foreign lands are naturally not to be trusted, particularly if they come hand in hand with "asylum seeker crisis" that currently keeps our economy running and the conservative elements of society with something to complain about.

I do not follow the teachings of the Bible, nor would I ever accept something that relies so heavily on dogma and intolerance. But I do believe all people should be allowed to believe as they wish. This includes Christians and Muslims, as well as the Sikhs and Hindus that are confused with Muslims by the same ignorant majority that assume all Muslims are dangerous extremists.

So it is a great irony, I realise, that any term denoting membership to a religious group carries the same stigma in some British circles that "atheist" does in some US cliques. I do wonder, though, what has happened in Canada. How can such an attitude still be prevalent in a nation that is renowned as an almost New World Switzerland: neutral in everything, tolerant of everything. Am I seeing a snapshot of life in one particular social group, or has the religious intolerance of the USA transferred to Canada, by some kind of social osmosis?

Furthermore, are all nations doomed to follow one philosophy religiously, even if that means turning atheism itself in a non-deific religion? Are we so quickly to forget the sacrifices made by our ancestors in the name of freedom, and instead turn the release from dogma that they bought with their blood into a new kind of dogma itself, a dogma that is itself dangerously close to supporting the loss of more lives in pointless conflicts?

Νιχτερινη Τρέλλα

2008-06-29T23:13:00.000+01:00

Here follows a recounting of events that may be amusing.

The following will be known as Rule Z for future reference:
I'm going to accept, for a moment, that my pretentious mumblings are of some interest to somebody, somewhere, and completely forego any form of self-moderation for the purpose of appearing less affected. After all, this is the internet! If I can't have my delusions floating the tubes, all glistening in 0s and 1s, then I think I'll crawl into a corner and stare at the wall until it agrees that I can!
End Rule Z

No, there is no reason why I chose Z: it was just floating there before my mind like the dagger before Macbeth. And no, I'm not going to murder anyone with a bloody Z. Not yet, anyway. Just be careful next time you hear a bee buzzing around your house, or someone snoring in the next room, or the whine of a small motorbike on the road. It might just be that a zany izzed zealot, his mind zonated like a zoetrope, conducts his zetetic course and his zeroth orchestra (excuse the zeugma: see Rule Z).

So, before I get to "the zenith of the zoic zephyr", let's get on with the "ztory":

I planned to go visit a friend Frigedæg night, after a prior meeting on Wodnesdæg, for the purpose of beer drinking and the creation of a character for one of our collective delusions. I'll pause here to allow the indignant to rail against my mentioning of roleplaying games, then point to Rule Z.

This friend had some issues with the campus administration and had to resolve them that Frigedæg eve, thus our liaison postponed itself until Sæternesdæg, this being only one day later. I arrived that Sæternesdæg, yesterday, and the drinking of beer commenced. Mead was unavailable, as, unfortunately, was ale, so lager was made to suffice, but, nonetheless, there was much enjoyment at the table. Appeared shortly a mutual acquaintance, that neither knew the other knew (though neither new, and both knew nu.)

Further conversation followed and camaraderie was shared with powerful zest. (No more "z"s, although, see Rule Z). Time passed, and shortly followed the unortunate departure of the second friend. The initial pair, this being myself and the first friend, proceeded to talk further still, and it was revealed to me that the previous battle with campus administration had in fact been lost, and he would have to move from one room to another. Of course, I offered my aid to his cause, and was told that he would call me on the morrow, when the displacement was scheduled to take place.

Thus decided, we retired to his current abode for further drinks and the contemplation of music and film. After a couple of hours of amusing distraction, we decided that moving some of the room's contents tonight would be productive, since both were in the mood. Little did we realise that by the time had wrestled the stock trolley up an overgrown hill to the towers of his home, filled it, dragged it to the edifice of his new place of incarceration, and emptied it again, that the Sun would have begun its journey from the underworld into the appropriately named Sunnandæg.

We lamented the loss of the evening, and returned to his previous cell, there to view a couple of thought-provoking films. Unfortunately by this point, the Sun had already claimed its throne, and the electronic sundial read 0630. After bewilderment and deformed and amused farewells, I returned to my own abode (which I too am shortly to abandon), and slept as best my body felt able after the refreshing mile stroll home.

The most amusing thing about the entire night, is that the creation of a false personality for our shared madness never took place. So, now we must find time to do it again, and hope that our nocturnal insanity does not distract us again from our planned personality dysfunction!

In conclusion, refer to Rule Z.

Lissë óma

2008-06-29T10:06:00.000+01:00

Though outside my normal musical tastes, this exquisite voice has got me completely hooked. I was hit by the strength and timbre of Beth Rowley's voice the moment I heard it, and as soon as the rolling melody and wonderful vocal patterns of "Sweet Hours" strolled into my ears, I was in love with the song in a way that I've not been since the intricate piano layering of Sonata Arctica's "Caleb" popped out of Unia.

See what you think: