Bruno's Website of Creative Things

Not so many films this time around

2026-01-19T06:54:52+00:00

I attended the Leeds Internation Film Festival. Again. It's a great festival. This time around I didn't get to see that many films. Life, you know? Also didn't enjoy it that much. Also life? A festival that wasn't so good? Not so much luck choosing the films? Or just not that great a year for film?

Don't know. If you want an altogether more enhtusiastic group of reviews, click here.

Day 1

World Animation Shorts Competiton 2

Started the festival with a session of five or so animation shorts. Always nice to see some animation. It's amazing to see all the different styles. Animation has such an expressive potential, and the output here was varied and of really high quality. A supernatural story (Devil's Beacon) merging the folklores and music of electronic and folk, of city and contryside. Ultimately, of good and evil, I s'pose. Well done and enterntaining. Then a really funny short film, Progress Mining, a satire of I suppose modern working life, with tremendous dry wit and a sense of place, which unfortunately goes nowhere - not the worst of sins in a short film. DESK BUGS was wild and I was happy to have it there. It only lasted 3 minutes and was out of control. A palate cleanser if there ever was one. Don't expect a story. God is Shy is another standout, a film ultimately about fear, bored illustrators on a train have the things they draw come to life, in a way, and give them more than they expected. Very well done, thrilling. Sappho is an homage to the lesbian poet of antiquity, very beautifully rendered on the page, in a harkening to the great places of joy and culture we have lost to extremism. Ouais is a bit dull, in my opinion, though well made. Things depicted are not particularly entertaining - loneliness? depression? - so perhaps we are looking at faithfulness to its subject matter? Finally Murmuration shows the transformation that takes place in an old folks' home. Very to the heart, the depiction of its subject matter is beautiful, respectful, funny. Cool.

Fantasy

Fantasy is a film about people living very boxed-in lives who find someone who broadens their horizons. A mentor, older of course, who initiates them, and how they react to this initiation. Its backdrop is the different communities of what was once Yugoslavia. Slovenia, I think, and then Macedonia, I'm sure. I should say North Macedonia, lest I get in trouble with the Greeks. Names are important, I guess. The borders between worlds, and how worlds can live side by side. How different their awakening is, but how important. It's an altogether charming film from a young director, well made, interesting, with no discernable faff. It also didn't blow my mind. I don't know why. It depicts a tension between the traditional and the modern, and its view of the traditional is uncharitable. That's as well as it may be, those are the views of the director/writers, etc. That that is what comes accross is to be expected, and I don't expect creators to be absolutely neutral. But I do like to see nuance, and there was very little to be found. Which is a shame. Nuance is needed more than ever, and makes for more interesting films. Without nuance, one feels in the presence of mere propaganda. And, if you are watching propaganda, you had better be on the level of Battleship Potemkin, which this film isn't. That's my view, anyway. There's also nothing wrong with it, and I don't want to appear to be overly harsh. Why don't I like it that much? Because there's a traditionalist in me who sees in this story the corruption of the youth? Surely. I wished that part of me had something to chew on, too. Alcohol, for one, is not an exclusively good presence in the world. Propaganda brings out an moral instinct, I guess.

Celtic Utopia

Speaking of two sides, how abot Ireland? So this one has a lot more to recommend it. It's ostensibly a documentary on folk music in Ireland - though it is less a panoramic view than a documentary about a few groups with a smattering of others at the edges. But they're interesting, fun, and revealing. On the twin demons haunting Ireland, the English and the Catholic Church, which the folk tradition appears as breaking from. Though the real picture, one might imagine, is quite different. But the music is really great. The hangout element of it is really great. The eternal quest for the nuanced view of Ireland continues, and doesn't end at Celtic Utopia. One feels the demons of fanaticism rearing their heads within us too, demanding a final answer to the question: who is right? who are the goodies and who are the baddies? Also, why do we need to know? And also, the suffering is ongoing. As is the idealized future. Oh that one where all is perfect, a post-apocalyptic irish utopia. Makes the suffering bearable, perhaps? The winners write history, the losers write the songs, it is said. Something like that. Maybe it overshoots, maybe it attempts something like that overarching view. I'd have preferred it if it was more of a documentary about the two or three bands? How can one speak of the folk tradition, which is one of song but also of storytelling, without telling some of the story of Ireland - particularly colonization, partition, religious extremism, violence? Then what more do I want of the filmmakers? I think I know my frustration. I'm frustrated less with the filmmakers for not having a definitive take on Ireland than on Ireland for being so undefinitive.

Day 2

Little Forest

Young adult comes back to her hometown from the big city. A film about a mother-daughter relation? Definitely, but the mother isn't home. so it's abot food as well. It's about small town life, independece, the kind of lives people live when everyone knows each other and people's judgment of each other is fixed, or maybe it can change? You also have to see the film, and even so the answers might not all be there. Make sure you like food. It's a coming-of-age film, for sure, with the necessary reframing of who your parents are, what stature they have. Perhaps that's even what defines it. Seeing through their ways, from the way the world is to the quirks of an individual, that sort of thing. If any of the above appeals, it's very enjoyable film

Compensation

Very interesting is the thing film critics say about films they didn't like but don't want to be mean to. However, in the case of a film like compensation, it's apt. It's interesting because it delves into the deaf experience, the black american experience, love, miscommunication. No it isn't interesting because of these things, it's interesting because it handles them well, that's the key. It's a black and white, silent film, made in the nineties, with a twin plot which takes place in both present-day film and the early twentieth century. I call it a twin plot because there is a deliberate mirroring. It centers on the relationship between a deaf young woman and a non-def young man. He is illeterate in the early twentieth century and has a different kind of illeteracy in the second plot, in that he doesn't know Sign Language. The mirrorings continue. The film is structured so to make its points. It speaks through the experience of film as a mirror for the experiences of characters caught in these crossroads. Why it isn't better known is beyond me. It really deserves to be. But it is a low budget film which lives by the importance of the points it makes, and how compellingly it makes them. That's of worth, it's an experience that will add to you, complementing your knowledge, and making you more aware (I suppose I'm gearing this review to non-deaf people). That's it, it's great in what it is trying to achieve, which is quite explicit, it works, and there's nothing wrong with it. I hope this doesn't read like a scathing review, but hopefully it's an honest portrail. It is actually very interesting.

The Testament of Ann Lee

Another thing film critics say when they don't want to be mean to a film they didn't like is that the performances were brave. The testament of Ann Lee does a very fine job of delivering a slice of history, in the form of a biopic of the leader of the Shakers, a religious movement which started in Manchester and moved to what was then the American Colonies. There's incredible commitment to the acting, and a real desire to empathise and understand the people who lived in times that were so different to ours, especially as it relates to the beliefs they held. And boy did they hold them! Heterodox and mainstream alike, did really did believe, fight, die, sacrifice, etc., for these beliefs, in a manner we would consider, at the very least, quaint, if not outright weird. Or maybe that's just me. It does make one wonder what other things we are willing to die for today that future generations (not even that far removed) would consider quaint. But anyhoodles, enough of recommending this film. Ritual is choreographed for your viewing pleasure, so that you might not consider them even more weird than you probably already do. If you are willing to move into musical-like levels of suspension of disbelief and right back down, you'll be alright. But that's the thing with this film - it's long, it requires a lot of audience gymnastics and the end result of it is ... alright? Better than alright. Good, then? Good, as in it's a good film? Well... it's alright, innit?

The Love that Remains

Note to self - always end your festival with an icelandic film. Does Iceland even know how to make a bad film? Or do they keep them contained inside the country, a pile of rubbish films inside a film prison? Perhaps there's special border guards policing every boat and plane coming off the island for any reel or cassette tape. Perhaps it's the kind of thing you can get away with if you are an affluent and remote island. Anyway, back to the film. It's great, in case you were wondering, and it's icelandic. It's about family, familial love, care and it's the most absolutely lovely, loving depiction of incompatibility, or relationship having broken down when there's all this love that remains. Love unrequitted, sometimes, love indeed, love living, in the form of children and the desire to raise them in a loving familial environment. I don't know, the whole thing's infused with love, but not a sentimental love with its passions, nor a rosy-coloured love of perfection, but simply love-as-is: messy and imperfect. And how compelling a film, how beautiful, what a world to step into. How you don't want to leave when it's done, how it leaves in precisely that fine-tuned edge. It's a transformation of things we've learned to love in film: desire, cliff edges, but in such soft pallete - I mean the narrative pallete here, though it is also shot in soft colours. Slow, confident of itself, there's no need to rush, the story and the performances will carry us through. Oh, and how beautiful the goddamn place is. And it experiments with time compression and some dream/dream-like sequences, but never in a way that leaves you behind, beffuddled, or leaving you having to use the "I'm watching an art-house film" pass to overlook it. Never too long, never too on the nose, a balanced film. Better than balanced, poised. Why read my ramblings any further? Just go see it.

Top Books by ratio of brilliance to length

2026-01-19T06:54:27+00:00

Here be some books I recommend. If you don't have a lot of time to read but don't want to compromise on brilliance (i.e. can't be bothered to spend a year in which your main occupation is reading the book - looking at you Infinite Jest), then this is the list for you.

Thomas Pynchon - The crying of lot 49
Flann O'brien - At swim-two-birds

Top Albums by First Line

2025-10-18T20:23:29+01:00

What it says on the tin.

Patty Smith - Horses. "Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine"
Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band - Trout Mask Replica "My smile is stuck, I cannot go back to your frownland."

The Keys to the World

2025-10-17T10:20:00+01:00

Ariel trusted me with his full confession earlier this year. I decided to do some light editing for clarity. I believe it to be a very important document in the understanding of our world. We would do well to remember that, regardless of what one feels about what is being confessed, Ariel has given this testimony at great person peril.

Language: English

Top Books by ending

2025-08-31T09:25:11+01:00

My top books by ending. By ending I mean the actual final fragment, never more than a sentence, followed by the actual quote.

Perhaps the least useful article in my website. If you have read the book, it might make you smirk in recognition, but, brilliant though these bits are, if you haven't read all the preceding pages then they will mean nothing to you. It should't, however, spoil any future readings of the the book.

Inclusion on this list is a recommendation, for sure.

Thomas Pynchon - The Crying of ot 49: "the crying of lot 49."

Flann O'brien - The Third Policeman: "- Is this about a bicycle?"

São Banaboião, Anacoreta e Mártir: "porque demoraste tanto?"

Lots of great films, actually

2025-07-20T14:47:24+01:00

I saw a lot of really good films at the Leeds International Film Festival. Low-budget, high-budget, sci-fi, comedies, dramas, films from many different countries, slow films, fast paced films. What they had in common was that they were generally of a really high quality. That might mean one of two things. I'm either a genius at looking through descriptions of films and choosing films I will like or the curating at the leeds film festival is of a very high level indeed. Or perhaps it's a mixture of both.

I best do this in order of films watched. Each of the day's headings represent a day I actually went to see films, which was not every day the festival is running. The way I understand the films is certainly informed by what films I've seen that day, whether I'm tired, etc, so I think that information is relevant.

Day 1

A Samurai in Time

What a treat to start my festival with. An absolute gem. Expertly crafted, low-budget, homage to the genre of samurai films and the people who create that magic. Samurai travels to present day mid-fight and finds himself in a set of a tv-show set in samurai times, a samurai story. Lulls you into a lowering your guard by ham-fisted dialogue and slightly off sound effects, but if you have the good sense to overlook it in the interest of a good story, you will be in for a treat. For those who like to be deceived. Cinema being an illusion, for those who like cinema. Period. (Period cinema).

Next up I went to the "sci-fi" day, a marathon of four sci-fi films shown in a row.

The A-Frame

1st Sci-fi marathon film.

Starts off well, the viewer having to wave off some sciency-souding word salad they came up but we're ok, it's part of the game. As it progresses, the waving off becomes more of a full-time shoveling of not only the sciency bit, what's worse, plot wholes and characters behaving inexplicably baffling, until it climaxes into an unavoidable sense of "meh". Not great.

Jupiter

2nd Sci-fi marathon film.

Girl in cult, the search for meaning, adolescence, the trials of living with neurodivergence in the family and what we're willing to overlook in our search for a place of belonging. It's a well constructed film, whose strong suit is the nuance with which it treats its subject matter, which is commendable. One problem it has which is not its fault is that it is not in any way a sci-fi movie and it was included in a sci-fi marathon, and not for lack of other sci-fi films in the festival. Even Samurai in Time has some elements of otherwordlyness which would fit better into the marathon. In the end, for me, it doesn't really shine very brightly, though if you're interested in any of the above it might be right for you. It's a solid effort, it's well shot, it builds tension well. It's a rewarding view. Maybe I didn't like it more because I couldn't get over how out of place it was in a sci-fi marathon. Oh well.

U Are the Universe

3rd Sci-fi marathon film.

Ukranian film, space trucker and the loneliness of being surrounded by technology that tries to keep you company. You're in for a proper closet drama with this one, taking place in the spaceship for almost the full film. It's a lovely film, full of heart and human emotion. Real strong performance from the carmudgeon space trucker which is perfectly complemented by the upbeat on-board computer that tries to cater to his every need - and can't help but fail. It works very well. And the ship is very beautifully clunky. So many spaceships in films are top of their class, latest technology, blah blah blah. This one is a space truck, a workhorse, and every sliding movement, every opening of closing of hatches is the opposite of slickness. Also, some real, human stakes in total despair. Humble desires for something basic as the heroic story. Don't expect any world-saving stunts from our droopy-faced hero. But be involved in something deeply heroic nonetheless. Recommended.

Tim Travers and the Time Travellers Paradox

4th Sci-fi marathon film.

If U are the Universe brought us delicate human stories in a contained environment, this one brings us the most bombastic of concepts... in a contained environment. Ish. There's a lot of special effects after a while, but,for the most of it, it's the strength of the performances that keeps the whole crazy show going. At it keeps going, gaining momentum, until the machinery eventually gets a bit out of control and maybe no-one knows what to do with it anymore and it goes a bit too crazy. But, you know, fair play. Doesn't mean the ride isn't a lot of fun.Because it's a lot of fun. If you like crazy intellectually shit, don't mind some sort of insight into how even small experiences can change you, so long as it's spoken softly in the midst of wildly entertaining shenanigans, and don't mind spending all of your time with someone you will not like as a person but can't help but admire their uwavering commitment to the figuring something out, you will have a blast spending some time with the very unhinged mind(s) of Tim Travers.

Day 2

Nickel Boys

A history of Civil Rights in 60's Southern US. A simple story about how easily one can fall into degradation by just being black. Also, how even when things change, or are starting to change, how some institutions will refuse to change, will remain holdouts of the old ways. Though the black person on the streets may see some change, what of the incarcerated, the children, and, what's more, the incarcerated children. There are so many standouts in this film. It shown in first person, and begins with a discovery of the world. See how the sun shines, how the sky is blue, how the trees blow, how the skin on your arms is dark. How important that last fact my turn out to be, but there's nothing natural about that importance. The blocking is outstanding, especially when the perspectives switch. And the villains are, to my mind, excepcional. None of the ridiculous pleasure in cruelty of your traditional fare. These are throughly normal people. Not particularly fastidious in their evil, nor just pawns and victims of the system which happens to exploit. With their greed, their personal sense of what should be done, which is a sense, not of justice, but perhaps of righteousness, they are a perfect portrait of what it looks like to do the thing that is expected of you, getting your take from the system and not question it. Perhaps they are a perfect portrait of how we are, at least most of the time. And what horrors are wrought from this pettyness of ours, what evil! We would do well to remember that, for all our stories of eventual victory for the brave underdog, the way to freedom has been paved, and will continue to be paved, by people being crushed by the machine. Many of whom would have perhaps made it through their circumstances had they been, not brave, but compliant. That is all that is required for systems to continue existing, is it not? And let us not forget beauty, and friendship. I dwell on the villains because I related to them, but it's certainly not what the film is about, though it is about a lot and it's hard to contain all. Expect a hard experience to contain, but, a great film nonetheless or perhaps because of.

Union

A story of importance, sure, a story of great resonance, today, as some many enjoy the fruits of the labour of people in the shadowlands: e.g. rapid, even somewhat magical, delivery of all you could afford, or get into debt and fall yourself into the shadowlands to acquire. Profits the size of which bring even that other great power, the state, to heel. Though mighty, it is very clear what this power fears: organized labour. It understands the awesome power the worker has, and so expends a considerable amount of its great resources to make the workers forget it. For this, for recording what is going on, not in some faraway moment freedom was brought to us, be that civil rights or an escape from Egypt, but right now, all around us, it is worth supporting, perhaps even watching the film. However, it is not a great cinematic story that makes this documentary a must-see. I'm very grateful for all that it has brought to my attention, that cannot be taken away, but I'm not about to say that it is a fantastic film. Perhaps I am just annoyed the film-makers have not been able to find a way to smash the corporate stranglehold on our lives in an a single act of cinematic awesomeness, and have found themselves compelled by the reality they have found to create a piece of cinema that is unsatisfying. Perhaps it is just as it should be. Though certainly noteworthy and of great relevance, the story of what is happening is not one in which our Moses has arrived and has delivered us from bondage. The filmmakers have done well in not giving me a symbolic substitute for what we are all in need of in actuality.

Rumours

I was really anticipating this one. When I read the program it was one of the first that marked "definitely going to watch this one". The premise sounds great. The leaders of the G7 countries face an end-times event during a summit, and must fend for themselves. The casting sems great, Cate Blanchett as the German Chancelor and Charles Dance as the President of the United States. The situation lends itself to funny situations, and the film itself is quite quotable. The execution, the pacing, and the charactes, though, are lacking. And that's kind of the entire film. Is there nothing that can be salvaged from the wreck? Well, just the premise and the funny bits when they land. So what to do? Avoid. And, maybe, if you have some terrific storyteller in your midst, have him watch it and tell the story back to you. That should be a laugh for about 10 minutes. Do not, under any circumstances, allow the success of this exercise in any way tempt you to go see this film. You have been warned.

Day 4

The Stimming Pool + A Body

A film by autistic people about the experiences of autism. Very interesting, especially if this is a topic you are interested in. Also not very long. Not going to tell you the very disjointed plot of the various autistic character/creators is a masterpiece, though the disjointedness itself might be a part of its message. If this is something you have an interest in, consider watching it. A Body is a short film that rounds up the session, The Stimming Pool being a little over an hour long, if memory doesn't fail me. It follows a character who is deeply interested, as is the case with some autistic people, in a very narrow subject, which, to him, is the world. Puddles and microbia, if I remember correctly. As you can tell, it is not something that struck me very deeply, but I do remember finding it well-shot. Attending just one session in a day means I was otherwise engaged that day (in this case, with a full day's work), so make what you will of my hazy recall.

Day 5

Flow

I took my daughter to see this wordless animation about a cat, which she found too scary, which forced me to leave the theatre after only a few minutes of film. I managed to convince her to reenter breifly but we mostly spent some time having tea in Hyde Park Cinema's rather comfortable cafe. Some things to bear in mind: my daughter was three years old; my daughter had never been to the cinema before; my daughter, after the film was over did say she wanted to see the cat and was upset to find she couldn't (her only exposure to media coming in situations with endless possibilities for stopping, starting and rewinding). I have little else to say other than maybe don't take a three year-old who finds the mildest of excitement in cartoons in the laptop screen at home to be scary to watch this film in a large screen. Though that might not be of use to many of you, it might be of use to some.

Day 6

She Loved Blossoms More

Another one I made a point to see very early on. It was the image in the program that I found compelling above all, a mixture of grotesque and beautiful, open flesh meets fleur-de-lys, Cronenberg meets patterned tapestry. And boy was it good! Not for everyone, I'm sure, low budget body-horrorish (an ish for patterned beauty), racy fantastical concepts being as niche as it gets, so niche it might be its own niche so really who knows if this is your jam if you've never seen anything like it? The heart of the story is still familial drama, which some of us might be able to relate to, and every bit of the plot, set and characterization undergirds its themes, or perhaps the theme and plot undergird the visuals. Either way, it works. One feels a sense of craft in the film, this is a a film that was well-crafted in every respect. Despite its reliance on strangeness, it maintains its freshness until the very end, which is both surprising and satisfying, never an easy thing to achieve. Recommended.

Day 7

Doc Short Film Panorama: Movements

This selection of short documentary films was good. I'm unsure I buy the theme of "movements" as somehow uniting these shorts, but it was a very good session of unpretentious cinema. In order, there was Mute Utopia, Brazilian documentary about a pirate free radio, what it mean to the people listening to it and making it happen, how it was organized and how it had to grapple, in the pre social-media, with the problems of acceptable discourse and limits to free speech. Then there was A Move, a documentary about an Iranian woman who decides to stop wearing the veil and how her family reacts to it, a simple film which interrogates the mechanisms that people use to maintain and justify traditional behaviours, how they react to being put off-guard by a simple refusal, forcing them to think about the relationship they have to it and what reasons they have to maintain and pressure others to maintain them as well. There was also Chernobyl, My Promised Land, a Ukranian documentary about a man from the Donbas region who settles in the land contaminated by the Chernobyl disaster and how the relationship he has with the locals is marked by a feeling of otherness, stemming from the foreigness of his ways and himself, and how that foreigness is transformed by how the conflict which informed his depature seems to have followed him to his new dwelling. Finally there was The Tunes, a film about songs, centered around a single pub in Belgium, which acts as a hub for a community of very different people who find each other in song and in singing. Maybe the curators were clutching at straws with the theme, but it made for a satisfying viewing experience.

Day 8

The Gesuidouz

What a fun film. A comedy which follows an extremely commited niche band (so niche it hardly has a single fan) from the big city as they move to rural Japan, as part of a program to bring youth to the declining countryside. It is hilarious always, the characters are wacky but always full of heart, and it is able to explore themes of youth, fame, artistic inspiration, following one's idols, countryside life and the search for a place to belong in total fluency. Never let anyone tell you that to be hilarious a film has to be disjointed, or direspectful of its characters, or cynical and if they insist, throw a copy of The Gesuidouz in their face.

I'm Still Here

This one is a gem. Political assassinations, the destruction of a hitherto properous family, and the anguish of not knowing what happened, the loss of waiting for someone who was taken from you, and the coming to grips with what happened. This is no abstract film, this is the story of a very real woman in a very real historical circumstance, when the police could swoop down to your house, take your husband, and leave behind only silence, with not even a death cerficate to give you closure and ease in handling your affairs. A wound that lives on, that is not closed, that, in a way, cannot be closed and the necessity to continue, to find a way to recreate a life for your family, now sitting squarely on a single pair of shoulders, without, by doing so, becoming compromised, betraying the vision of a better society, of justice. The cinematography and directing are beyond reproach, bringing the acting talent of Fernand Torres to full display, who delivers an astounding performance, with heart and nuance, strength and vulnerability at the right times and the right amounts. We feel the injustice in her face, in her every move, we feel, not a sentimental or melancholy injustice, but a very real and carnal injustice, an injustice we feel in our bones. We must never forget the sons-of-bitches and what they have done, though it is clear that most in society would like us to just move on. But, though we may overcome our trauma, we should never move on, should not tolerate these enormities. May our vigilance be reawakened now and last forever.

Cloud

Probably an artefact of how deeply I felt the previous film, how I was still, in a way, reeling from it when I entered Cloud, but I couldn't quite relate to this action thriller about an online salesman (should we just call him a grifter?) and the people whom he leaves behind damaged in the wake of his search for success. I cannot find fault in it, the acting, the pacing, the action scenes, everything is fine, I just couldn't connect to the main character and to the plot. It wasn't a problem of miscommunication by the film, as I understood well what the stakes were (if, sometimes, not quite the motivations, though that wasn't a problem), and could certainly follow the flow of the plot, which is cleverly constructed. But I didn't care that much. Perhaps it is an interesting exercise in going through the motions of the action film without having a clear hero to root for, perhaps I have failed to see how that is an accomplishment of the film. Perhaps. But, at the end of the film, the overwhelming feeling was something like "okay, fine, that happened", and nothing else much to write about.

The Killers

What a stylish film. Anyone who appreciates syle will not fail to appreciate this anthology film, composed of four different stories by four different directors. As with other anthology films, the experience is somewhat jarring, it starts with a vampire transition story, very red-velvet sexy, which is really good actually, successfully going for looks and style and feel, as you relate to the character who's experiencing this new normal with you, and is just as surprised as you are. Success. The second story goes on to a very funny hitman story, starting with a perfect descent from high-life to low-life, in the funniest Chinese Whispers sequence in film or maybe ever, and it is the standout of the four. We next have a not quite a whodunnit but a whoisit, which is gripping and moves you to engage in the exact same attempt at guessing which the characters are involved in. The last film is so stylish it's perhaps too stylish, another homage to the Nighthawks painting (perhaps the third?), this one more on the nose, and I can't say I was fully on board for it though I had a fidgety time watching it as I had a train to catch and was very much afraid I was going to be late. I ended up stepping out before it finished. Worth a watch, for sure, not worth you breaking up plans to go watch it.

Day 9

Gloria!

Jee-elle-oh-are-ay-ey gloria, not in excelsis diem, if you catch my drift. Well, it's about both stiles, classical and popular music, but it's mainly about female freedom, freedom to live lives and sing songs. Yes it's about women living in a patriarchal situation, a convent in the before times - 16th century, 17th? - not sure, not that it matters, it's definitely not a film boasting great historical accuracy, though there is an element of what could've been in this women invent modern popular music in the before times. Could've been as in what talents we have wasted, what lives we have crushed for the benefit of things still extant that we do not seem to care about anymore. But you will read this and think it's some sort of preachy dull experience, more feminist lecture than film, when it is the exact opposite, it's a film full of joy, a joy to watch, a joy to hear the music of, a joy to live through. For it is joy that it preaches, that is the G-L-O-R-I-A, the real one, the one that keeps getting pushed down and never ever gives over, is always present, the joy of life, even the constrained and tyrannical life on show. And it shows you all this joy without pulling punches about the conditions being investigated, though it is, at essence, a pop film and it will adhere to audience expectations rather than seek to subvert, and that is what makes it a thoroughly enjoyable experience, one to get for mom and dad. We can have a good look at oppression and injustice while still being a feel-good film. Because why not? To make art that make us feel good is precisely the thing that was being suppressed. Is not to enjoy one's life and one's art the greatest rebellion? Find it, watch it, have a good life, okay?

When the Light Breaks

What a great way to finish this festival. There's something going on in Iceland that makes them make really great films. Great films that have clear situations that are very particular. Actually I'm just thinking about Rams. But the comparison is not worth the time, because this is a great film on its own merits. It's a film about the grief of the young, but it hangs on a twist of someone having to grieve in secret. I mean she can grieve, but she cannot grieve the depths that she wants to because the relationship she is grieving is not public, and there is a very specific cost to someone else if they do. What does it matter anyway? He is dead, nothing can change that. What does it matter how you grieve and how people perceive your grief and treat you in relation to that grief? Actually, it matters quite a bit as the film shows. This is straightforward plot told in images, a few young adults dealing with a tragedy. All you have to do is look and pay attention, everything is in the character's eyes, their clothes, their movement. Their speech, as well, of course, which also rewards careful attention. Jarring speech is revealed to be precisely what the plot needed. If you like watching people, paying attention and have ever been young, this is the film for you.

All in all, a great experience, which has been a pleasure to recall for this post. And that, in itself, has already made it worth it.

Embarassing realizations are the best ones.

2024-10-01T21:15:51+01:00

I can't do a book review of The Song of Solomon, because I don't understand it well enough. What doesn't escape me hints of depths that escape me utterly, so disconnected I am from the lives and the tribulations of its main characters.

Yet I can relate, of course. Such is the beauty of art, that one can be brought into relation with characters which, were they real, we'd find it very hard to even meet, let alone spend enough time together to enable any deep communication to take place. This is how far apart I am, geographically and socially, from Black American Culture.

So, I can't offer a review, not at present, anyway. I can relay a sense of blinds being taken from my eyes, or beginning to be taken from my eyes, in a simple yet embarassing confession.

My main take away from The Song of Solomon is a fairly simple realization. And it is embarassing in the exact measure that it is precious. And the fact that it took me reading this book well into my adulthood to realize what should have been a very obvious thing indeed really says something about my outlook which, in this regard, is, I feel, representative. And it is this: that people who are poor, illiterate and live a life of marginality might preocupy themselves with the deep question of what this life is all about. And, furthermore, that they might have deep insights to offer, insights which are perhaps unavailable to someone who grew up in the relative comfort I happen to be born into.

There's more to it, of course. There are really powerful scenes. There's other realizations, like that someone born in the 60s might be the grandson of someone who was born a slave. That's how close that experience exists within the generations. That might be really obvious to people who carry that familial memory, but I'm from a culture that sees all of that as ancient history (which is an obviously self-serving outlook). There's beauty, and the thrill of the discovery, and the reality and relevance of worldviews which are totally other to me. Much as I might indulge in different modes of thought, my main outlook is that of the dominant culture. The possibilities of life, the trust in the jump, the belief that exists in as simple an act as moving somewhere you have never been before and only heard of vaguely, for instance, it is so utterly alien to me that I feel the book is, in many ways, stranger than any science fiction I have ever read. And yet it is a book that, though it alludes to something powerful and misterious, is not in any way trying to be cryptic, but, quite the opposite, is generously offering its outlook in as direct and unpretencious a manner as it can. It is just that I find myself utterly unequipped to receive it, like I never had to grow any of the receptors which are fundamental for the understanding of the story.

But I grow them now, I think. I grow them by exposure to them. So here's why I cannot review a book. I cannot review what I cannot grasp, for I have only just started to develop the sense organs that could, fully developed, might perhaps be able to grasp. But I tire of this, and feel yet another of the precious gifts of this book in another realization: Why grasp? Why must I perceive everything with a grasping hand, that seeks to make mine and to manipulate to create advantage? Can I not reach my hand out to stroke, to caress, to feel together?

For Mercy.

It's raining self-driving cars

2024-10-01T21:15:51+01:00

Stephen Markley wrote a book called The Deluge, and it is a very well-written and entertaining book, heart-breaking at times, always interesting to read, with a gripping plot and well-defined interesting characters.

So, why am I not quoting favourite bits, singing the praises of this monument of writing, and chastizing all who haven't read it? First of all, that's not how I roll, thank you very much. Also, it's because I'm not that crazy about it. And I think it boils down to a few specific issues.

It's an ideological book, and it is very much based on the idea that the environmental crisis we are facing has very clearly defined ways of exiting it. Follow the science. Literally it has all been written down by this one man, and now all must give way to the majesty of his computer modelling. We also all know it, and choose to deviate from his dictats only as an act of folly. No space or need for any other input. I don't agree, nor do I have much time, for this general outlook.

It's very America-centric, which would be okay if it weren't for how global in scope it wants to be. The rest of the world gets a passing reference here and there, and the implication is that this is the amount of importance it deserves. Indeed, once fundamental events, involving intersecting miriad American characters, gets over a certain tipping point, the rest of the world is dismissed in a single line. Something like "America will use its power to force every country to follow suit." So much for the agency of everyone else.

It's the future as imagined in the conscience of a liberal american. All of the Silicon Valley hypes come true, including the ones that just plain didn't before everyone moved on (remember when all the taxi drivers were going to be put out of a job by self driving cars? Well, Markley seems to think it's still happening) and, of course, the new promises of the hype cycle: the "AIs", whatever that means (chatbots and correlations, it seems, but, like, even more), now at the plane of predictive patterns for government and advertisement (sure) and, of course, creatively writing things from the perspective of people, as if it's, like, inside their minds, dude (erm... sure...), because of course we are just the data we produce. It's the vision of humanity from the perspective of the advertisement machine. And, of course, the VRs as well. It's all coming, man!

There's good stuff in it. The workings of government, lobbying and PR, for one. It is also quite interesting in lots of its portrails, like the damage wrought by bullets in the human body. I don't know why, but I find myself judging it by its predictive capacity rather than just as a piece of fiction, as I normally would. Perhaps because its biblical title and pontificating outlook suggests it would like to be seen as an oracle.

But I do take issue. I take issue with the ingrained worldview. Because you may say it does take into account some alternatives. I say it makes a damn good job of portraying them as accurately as possible before their ultimate dismissal, to the great relief of the liberal classes, whose main driving ideology is that they are right about everything and everyone who disagrees is evil or stupid. Ultimately it delivers to the ideological clientelle what it craves: the recognition that, yes, one can explore other ways of seeing things and safely arrive at the conclusion that we are the ones who are right. Morally right, factually right.

It is not a book in the vein of other sprawling novels, like Illuminatus, that ever seriously considers the ways in which different people and perspectives might be necessary for completeness of perspective, or to approximate completeness. It is a narrow-minded book, like most books that deal with a single main character, which is focused on his (it's normally a he) inner life and how it intersects with questions of our time. This narrowness is not a problem, it is often a great pleasure to read in detail about something the writer feels passionate about: even if that something is himself or a proxy for himself. But in the Deluge, I see an addressing of this narrowness so as to allow himself (and the reader to allow in him) the all-judging narrow eye of the great male writer. This is what I mean: the book features the textbook different perspectives: race, sexuality, neurological profile, religion and gender. By featuring I mean that they make an appearance, and no one can claim they weren't there. But they appear always, it seems, in service of the preconceptions brought in with us. In its most revealing parts it becomes an ode to enlightened, dictatorial power. There's just no need for other any other minds, any consensus. And this last part is, I would argue, not a hidden unconscious impulse, but the basic thrust of the novel, as embodied by its two main characters, the old crank and the young heroine leader, both leaders with little interest in what other people think, except inasmuch as it helps their goals. They have very little time or disposition for changes of ideas, and, indeed, I can't remember them changing their minds about anything throughout the 800 pages of the novel.

There's a self-reflective nod to just the critique I put above, in the figure of the young white writer. But it reminds me of Ricky Gervais doing a Verizon ad, in which he spends the time taking the mickey out of the fact that he was paid a fortune to do what he is doing now. As if that would defuse the blow to artistic integrity that shilling for a large corporation deals. Yes, Ricky, we are aware they paid you to do it, but YOU ARE STILL DOING IT! And if Stephen Markley knows all about patriarcal oppression of women, and how the great white narrative intersects with it and supports it, it doesn't exonerate him from the fact that he's still doing it. In fact, it at times reads like a roadmap for how to keep doing that great white writer thing, tell the whole world how it is, make a definitive mark on the culture, etc.: preempt all the critiques of it by laying them out, and then do it anyway. I guess he's saying he's doing it on purpose...

I'm being too harsh. It's just something I do when I feel that there's talent that is indulgent, below its obligations. If it were average, I wouldn't bother writing this, in the same way I wouldn't be feeling these strong emotions about it now or while reading it. I don't write a review of everything I read, and sometimes I do read things which have shortcomings and I choose to see and enjoy only its good parts, and gloss over the rest, like when you see a deeply flawed cult film which has an interesting scene or concept. I feel very warm feelings towards art which is trying its best, where the shortcomings are readily apparent. I feel like genuine attempts deserve to be seen as charitably as possible. With The Deluge, I feel there's genuine talent which indulges the ideological outlook of its target consumers, and perhaps the writer, propping up its self-flattering pre-conceptions. This book ranks very highly in the quality of its prose, and is definitely up there in one of the best three books I've read in the last 12 months. That's precisely the problem. I feel like a scolding teacher, undergrading his best student. But that's just it: he can do better. And, at the end of the day, it's what was missed that I take with me more strongly, above all of its qualities. And think that maybe Stephen Markley can deliver something that will satisfy even when one is predisposed to be uncharitable, something utterly demolishing, like the Crying of Lot 49, or Infinite Jest. A great white masterpiece. I feel he is capable of it. But he needs to dare speak truth, the kind of truth we his audience do not want to hear and then to make us hear it, weave it in such a way that we can't help but hear. Then he would qualify as a prophet. We'd also very likely stone him for it. That's why it's so hard, and so appreciated, and so rare, and so worthy of note and praise. The Deluge tries at it, but it ain't it.

In reading my review I feel how little comes through of the joy that is reading this novel, of how the events grip you, how you are hanging on every word at times, in nail biting suspense, wondering what will happen next. Also how the themes and the characters of the novel bleed over into your life, how you find yourself feeling deeply for the different characters, how they inspire you in your life. That must be noted, as it is no small feat. The actual raw rivetingness of it, how it moves you at times. How it enhances your life with its energy. It isn't that I hate it, it's that I feel it should be much more and, what is unforgivable, it thinks it is so much more.

100 Songs

2024-08-18T09:00:00+01:00

This started as a list of 100 songs that were the track I thought was the best ever, that I would listen to on repeat thinking, this song is the best song ever... until I tired of it. I present them in rough autobiographical order - by which I mean the order, in my life, when I was was so entranced by them.

While some fit that bill entirely, some stand for not a particulary song I used to listen to on repeat, but to an album I was overtaken by.

I also had to add the rule of one band/artist per entry. Otherwise more than half the list would be by two artists.

Here's 100 songs, the songs of my life.

Atirei o pau ao gato

Banda sonora Rei Leao - Eu mal posso esperar para ser Rei

The Connels - 74/75

Rui Veloso - O ourives mestre Joao

Beethoven - 9th Symphony ( version: George Szell - Cleveland Orchestra)

Dulce Pontes - Cancao do mar

Korn - freak on a leash

Candela Azul - Juegalo

Buena Vista Social Club - Chan Chan

Joaquin Rodrigo - Concierto de Aranjuez - Alegro (version: Paco de Lucia)

Queen - It's a kind of Magic

Atomic kitten - Eternal Flame

Bjork - It's Oh So Quiet

Rage Against the Machine - Killing in the name

The Guitar Trio - Mediterranean Sundance

The Prodigy - Smack my bitch up

Livin' la Vida Loca - Ricky Martin

The Offspring - Come out and play

Fatboy Slim - Right Here, Right Now

Zeca Afonso - Cantar Alentejano

Proppelerheads - Spybreak!

Portishead - Glory Box

Area - L'elefante bianco

Can - Mother Sky

Gong - Flying Teapot

Paco de Lucia - Zyriab

Norah Jones - Don't know why

The Velvet Underground - Venus in Furs

Laurie Anderson - From the air

Santana feat. Rob Thomas- Smooth

White Stripes - Seven Nation Army

Count Basie - Sing Sing (with a Swing)

Pink Floyd - The Great Gig in the Sky

Emerson, Lake and Palmer - Karn evil 9

King Crimson - 21st century schizoid man

The Doors - The End

Led Zeppelin - Dazed and Confused

Frank Zappa - Cruisin for Burgers (version: Zappa in New York)

Colosseum - The Kettle

Goldfrapp - Lovely Head

Hallogallo - Neu!

Genesis - The Knife

Headhunters - Chamaeleon

Justice - Genesis

Dave Brubeck - Take Five

Roxy Music - Re-Make/Re-Model

John Coltrane - Afro-blue

Peter Gabriel - The Feeling Begins

Aimee Mann - One

John Brarry - Theme from Midnight Cowboy

Serge Gainsbourg - Le poinconneur des lilas

Charles Aznavour - Formidable

Mler Ife Dada - Sinto em mim

Faust - No Harm

Sun Ra - Space is the place

Pharoah Sanders - You got to have Freedom

Buraka Som Sistema - Kalemba

Raul Seixas - Ouro de tolo

John Zorn/Electric Masada - Karaim

Fausto - Por este rio acima

Scraping foetus off the wheel - Descent into the Inferno

Can - Mother Sky

Van der Graaf Generator - Lemmings

Captain Beefheart - Electricity

Zero Seven - In the Waiting line

The Kinks - Sunday Afternoon

Sanseverino - Comment seduire une femme marie

Nancy Sinatra - You only live twice

Soft Machine - Moon in June

Charles Mingues - Better get hit in 'yo soul

Mahavishnu Orchestra - The inner mounting flame

Morphine - Good

Ellington, Mingus, Roach - Caravan

Emir Kusturica - Unza Unza Time

Gilberto Gil - Aquele Abraco

Madredeus - O Pastor

Bonnie Tyler - Total Eclipse of the Heart

Addagietto, 7th Symphony, Beethoven, Karajan

Madvillainy - Accordion

Nina simone - I get on without very well (except sometimes)

Yoko Kanno and the Seatbelts - Tank!

Seu Jorge - Life on Mars

Baden Powell - Canto de Ossanha

Zlabya - Harmonika Tulli

Novos Baianos - Acabou Chorare

La Femme d'argent - Air

LCD Soundsystem - Us v Them

Dj Shadow - Rocket Fuel

Jungle by night - Attila

Zef - Musique Mazurka

Tim Maya - Bom Senso

Duo Brotto Lopez - La Candela

Cantiga da burra - Quadrilha

Fela Kuti - Water no get enemy

Tom Ze - Xique Xique

Caetano Veloso - It's a long road

My Bloody Valentine - Only Shallow

Cameo - Shake your pants

Joni Mitchel - Case of you

Jacques Brel - Vesoul

It takes two brains to tango

2023-10-10T13:29:39+01:00

Ian McGilchrist wrote something which has profoundly influenced the way I think about the world, our place in it, the way we interact with each other, and our culture. It's a book called "The Master and his Emisssary".

It is a very large book, great if you like covering all the bases, and really getting into the argument, which I found quite compelling. It lays out a model of how the brain functions, in which consciousness emerges from the interplay between two different, quasi-autonomous, counsciousnesses, which stem from the left and right brain. It does away with old theories of hemispheric differentiation (bicameral mind, anyone?) and sets out a new one, which can be summarised thusly: the between the hemispheres lies not so much in what is processed where, but rather in how it's processed.

Basically, as we go on about our days, we have two kinds of processing happening, which can be broadly characterised as processing-as-prey and processing-as-predator. Suppose we are attempting to hunt. We are using a certain type of focused awareness, that zooms in on our objective. In order for it to work, this awareness cannot be simultaneously paying attention to the foliage around our prey, the pretty sundown, even individuals other than the prey we've selected, such as other gazelles. I'm sure we've all been so absorbed in a single-minded (great word for this situation) pursuit that we couldn't hear other people talking directly to us. That's an example of how this type of awareness filters out many inputs, if it is to function correctly.

Here's the thing, though. In a world in which we are always predator, that might work. But we are also prey. And if we've presently so manipulated our environment so as to almost never be faced with predators, there's still hazards around. So, another type of awareness has to be there constantly - or we die. It's our consciousness as prey. If we are so absorbed with the gazelle we're hunting that nothing can shake us out of it, a predator will be able to get right next to us, and gobble us up. Or we might fall into a ravine. So, in order for the hunt to work, we need to have this other consciousness, which is not focused at all, but rather is constantly scanning the environment for the slightest hint of an approaching lion.

So, if we do hear a roar, our consciousness will be snapped out of predator mode and into prey mode. If our objective was to find something to eat, it has now changed to not become something that's eaten. Notice this implies that the counsciousness-as-prey has priority, it is the one which must be listened to if there's a conflict, as we can always hunt later, if we're still alive, but if we're eaten even once, well, then we can't hunt anymore, can we?

For McGilchrist, this suggests that the master counsciousness, which has its seat on the right hemisphere, sets out these objectives (find food, build house, get firewood, find a job) for his emissary to take care of. And if at any point the master counsciousness decides the objective has changed, it is changed immediately, and the emissary, who sits on the left hemisphere, has to execute the new plan.

The problem is that, when the emissary is going about the business of solving some narrowly defined problem, he must be left alone in order to function well. This may give it ideas, namely the idea that he is the only real consciousness, and he doesn't need the master at all. Such is, for McGilchrist, the state of our present culture. Any type of unfocused processing is frowned upon and left-hemispheric objectives rule the day. Hence, we have manipulated the world to rid ourselves from ever having to face a predator, or even hazards, as much as we can. The emissary, like a shady vizier, sees his dethronement with horror, and so individuals walk around doing what they can to never have to engage in any free-flowing thought which might create new ideas, objectives, and perhaps even re-generate the world.

The emissary works through language. It's one of his main tools. Mental chatter keeps consciousness from defaulting back to the master. Meditation may help us finding the master again, and update our programming to account for the change in the environment. Perhaps we have endeavoured to be very productive a few generations ago because we lived in times of food scarcity, and that urgency has trickled down the generations via left-hemispheric capture into the present time, where the threat to our food security lies arguably more with excessive productivity (diminishing returns, environmental collapse, etc) than with lack of human productivity.

Perhaps if we took a moment to listen to the master, we would see it that way. If we don't do it voluntarily, it will have to be done for us, in the form of a crisis, personal or global. I feel there's a few of us who've sensed this already, and are sending signs to the culture to get away from our present mode.

The second half of the book sets out a very high-level view of how McGilchrist believes the interplay between relative dominance of hemispheres has been recorded via art history. If I feel strongly that the first half is worth the read, though it may at times be a bit too dense for the causal read - not a criticism of the author, merely the suggestion that someone should write a more accessible version of the argument - this second half is too thin on the details and does that pursuit a disservice. It would have been better to ommit it altogether and perhaps do that work somewhere else, or suggest it be done by someone else. It even veers into the stereotypical, and perhaps even misunderstands the purpose of art as a vehicle for change, which is rarely to be found on statistical analysis but rather on contemplating the best examples. I may be too close to this subject, too critical of History of Art as a subject in and of itself, to serve as impartial judge (which I never claimed to be anyway) but suffice it to say that the second part is absolutely unnecessary to the arguments the book sets out and that one can be thoroughly persuaded by the first half while simultaneously rejecting the second. And since the book is about 600 pages long, if I remember correctly, knowing you may confidently read only half of it for a thorough understading of the argument will perhaps be greeted as good news by some of you. Perhaps even motivate a read.

Do be aware that it is a quite technical book, with a particularly long chapter at the beginning which the author understands will act as a bit of a hurdle before the argument is laid out. Know that time is not wasted and is necessary for you to stand on good stead in following the really meaty part of the argument. However, as set out before, there is perhaps space for a less thorough, more accessible, version of the argument to be published for more general consumption.

Heck, maybe I should write that one myself.

Modern Man in Search of a Soul

2023-09-08T19:16:06+01:00

Modern Man in Search of Soul is a series of lectures by Carl Jung which have been transcribed, reviewed and published as a book. They read very well, each lecture with a specific topic which it will cover but not dwell on, it being quite possible to read each lecture in one sitting, which I appreciate. It is also quite accessible to one without a psychoanalytical background, which is my case.

It is the only book by Jung which I've read, though I did get the desire to read more, and I finished it some years ago. I bring it up only to discuss a single point in it, which is one of the ones that stayed with me. It is similar to what I did with the Science and Sanity review, which is why I titled it "not a review". Perhaps I should come up with a name for this thing, of reflecting on books I stopped reading a long time ago. Perhaps an acronym, how does Robisralta sound like? I'll do a little Robisralta of Jung's Modern Man in Search of a Soul.

I'd like to stress this is not a representation of the book in question, only of my opinion to what I remember from the book. I'm purposefully not going back to the book and getting exact quotes or representing the arguments accurately. I'm interested in what has occupied my mind in relation to having read the book, not on whether the argument I remember the book making is accurately represented by my memory of it.

The part in question relates to this idea that people who have non-modern views of the world (I hope he doesn't call him "savages" but he might well do, it's the term of the time, but if he does, it's clear he doesn't mean it disparagingly) might decide that if they trip just after leaving their house in the morning on a day they were to sign a contract, they might go back indoors and decide not to sign that contract altogether.

This is an example of the type of action, and thought, that modern man would balk at. Modern man would say there is no relation between the two things and tripping as you leave the house is not a reason to decide to sign or not sign a contract.

In our society, most people will either align with this modern view and dismiss this sequence of thoughts as unreasonable; or they will take the newage-ey view that it is a perfectly reasonable way of thinking and acting, with the act of tripping being interpreted perhaps as a message from a benevolent spirit cautioning him against making a mistake.

But what I found remarkable is the argument Jung makes (or that I remember him making, see above). Jung makes a good argument for how the action is wise without in any way relinquishing his modern world-view. He claims that one who trips has trusted a configuration of the world around him that was proved to be wrong (the position of a step, a rock, his own body weight,whatever made him trip). He thought he knew enough know about the world around him, gambled on his incomplete knowledge (for one cannot know fully, and the mere fact that he tripped is proof that his knowledge was lacking) by taking a step forward and lost that gamble.

To put simply, he is distracted. What else might he be missing? Is it not perfectly reasonable to say he is not in a fit state to sign a contract today, as he is very likely to miss something important? If you can't even succesfully navigate the outside of your house, which you do all the time, how can you be trusted to enter into a novel agreement with someone else, which maps a landscape magnitutes more complicated and worse known, the Future?

I find that argument compelling, and try to be aware of when I'm myself distracted. I was reminded of this because I was on my way to a job interview and, while at an intersection, didn't, at first, notice an oncoming car. While I didn't return home to hide under my bed, I made sure to pay close attention to everything that was happening during the interview, being especially cautious with what I was saying.

So, is this why one can read the future in the tea leaves, in the flights of the birds or in the cards of the Tarot? I haven't quite made that argument, but if I was, I would say that is a possible end-point of the type of attention that is provoked by understanding we navigate the world by gambles of simplification and hence need to be on the lookout for signs that we are not our best selves, and act accordingly. I do think it a good idea to cultivate that kind of awareness and, if you can tell the future by reading tea leaves, then do let me know!

Science and Sanity (not really a review)

2023-08-30T09:00:00+01:00

I've never finished Science and Sanity, by Alfred Korzbski. I've barely made it a third of the way through, actually, having read it as closely as I possibly could, given the constraints of my life at the time. I'd say I made a proper attempt at it.

Science and Sanity is an exposition of a system of thought, or a discipline, called General Semantics, which Korzybski founded. It's a massive book, and not an easy read, which uses language updates of his own making (such as a full stop to mean, roughly, etc.). Why he does this is explained in the book, and he has what he thinks is good reason for it. Since I have not even made it to the middle of the book, please read the below as characterizing what I understood of the book and the system rather than characterizing it.

One of the things the book does is it sets a group of changes in language which Korzybski proposes will make English a more "sane" language, in his use of the term, is synonimous with having the same structure of the world around. That, for him, is the structure of the universe as set out by scientific enquiry. Hence the title "Sience and Sanity". His most famous change is to proscribe the use of the verb to be in its capacity as verb of identity (basically, always, unless it's an auxiliary verb). The reasoning behind this is that verbs define relationships between things, and there's no such thing as an identity relationship, or at least, science hasn't found one in nature.

For William Burroughs, the adoption of this would lead to an end to war. I don't know if we can go that far, but I do recommend trying to rephrase any heated argument without recourse to the verb to be, and you'll feel immediately how much more difficult it is to draw battle lines and be upset. We generally fight for what something is, and, if we teach ourselves to refrain from thinking in those terms, we will be released from a profound burden - though we may have to acquire another burden, which, as the Spiderman would have it, is the responsibility that comes with power. A power to heal, perhaps.

These ideas are worth engaging with, I think, and experimenting with. Noam Chomsky, the famous linguist, said something to the effect of he read all of Korzybski and that it could all be summarised in the sentence "Be careful with what you say." Chomsky, of course, has read much more than me, understands the subject much better than me and meant his comments as a diss, I think. But what I would say is that what Korzbski has shown me is precisely that being careful with language is anything but trivial, and it can have profound, read world-changing, effects.

Something to consider, I think.

Do lots cry?

2023-08-27T09:00:00+01:00

Spoilerish review of Thomas Pynchon's "The Crying of Lot 49". I wouldn't worry too much about spoilers here, but if you wnat to go without knowing absolutely anything, just go ahead and read it (spoiler for the review: I'm going to recommend it!).

It's funny. It's terrifying in a strange way, like a ghost story made believable. It is a virtuoso display of use of words, of the art of writing.

It's framed essentially as a detective novel, though there are no detectives, but a lowly executor of a will whose attempt at sorting the dead person's estate uncovers a great conspiracy or perhaps not quite. The novel lives for, perhaps demonstrate, this quantum-like "the electron is here and not here until we observe ita and collapse the wave function", in that we're never quite sure the conspiracy being uncovered is in any way real, and not the product of a paranoid mind (whose paranoid mind, the dead man or the executor, is also up for grabs.)

It is also impossible not to mention the superb finale, though it would be too much to just explain it outright. Let us just say that, same as our main character uncovers the mystery, we uncover the mystery of the book title itself, a seemingly nonsensical sentence which we will, by the end, be assured not just of its meaning, but mainly, of its terrific importance.

Though perhaps not my favourite of the three Pynchon's I have read ("Bleeding Edge" takes that spot), it's short, and it does things some things too well, too well (by which I mean no other book does it quite like that) that it's essential to give it go.

So no excuses! Get it now at your local library or wherever you get your books.

Living Compost

2023-04-10T10:20:00+01:00

Living Compost - a day with Compost Club is a short documentary about Compost Club, a social enterprise company collecting food waste around East Sussex and transforming it into high-quality compost.

Language: English

Francoforte

2011-04-10T10:20:00+01:00

A film I made with the help of some friends what seems to me a long time ago.

Language: Portuguese with English subtitles

Neo-noir financial film, where an investigator attempts to tackle the big issue of the day: the looming IMF intervention.