Top 10 “Everyone must do this” – Films/Documentary/Visual Media

There are some things that I think are SO exemplary that I must shove it down the throat of anyone I like. Which I have done, no less, or plan to do, no less. It’s like watching a film and going “Wow! I have to show this to everyone.” It’s the kind of film that makes you grind your teeth, and clench your fist, and react. Period. Any reaction is good.

This evangelistic instinct does not come from all the films that you completely digg. For example, I like Reality Bites. A lot. But it’s  a personal joy to watch the dialogs, and I’d rather savor them by myself. Also, A love song for Bobby Long. That’s all for personal pleasure.

Then there are the duet kinda films. I’d rather watch them with a co-enthusiast. Like watching a chick flick with a chick or a guy playing the role of a chick companion, watching a Rasta film with Chivas, or watching a doomsday conspiracy movie with Tinda, or watching evolutionary movies with J.

And then there are the group movies. That must be seen as a group. As a community, as a nation, as a people, as a race and species, as any being entitled to a brain on this planet that is in the act of cognition, feeling, and subscriberism. Even if we don’t watch them in the same room. We must all watch them.  I am talking about those kinda movies.

So why did I bring this up now. Because I am reaching a critical mass of information that I agree with, feel strongly about, identify with, cannot do anything about most of the time, but would want to amplify the message. Because everyone must know about these. Because everyone will understand this irrespective of their background, race, color, religion or language (assuming sub titles). Because I simply must.

#1 1 Giant Leap

It started with the music. Then the quest for why these guys made this brilliant music and how. And then a study of their journey and their idea. In short, they wanted to combine “video, sound, and the written word to highlight the unity that underlies all of us, despite our heavily accentuated diversity”. Brilliant music, and a goose-bump-giving documentary.

#2 The Zeitgeist Movie and the Addendum

The most compelling documentaries of our time that put together, in an extremely coherent and logical fashion, the message that we all have been aware of, but never sat down and thought too much of it. Because no one told it like that.  No one viewed it like that. No one could afford the long-range vision and broad-range speculation to coherently arrive at so many conclusions at the same time. And it talks about the biggest delusions in prevalent times, freedom.

#3 Baraka

If imagery didn’t work more than words did, I would put this a rank lower. In fact a couple ranks lower. But it does. For serious imagery, for lost treasures, for rhythm, groove, beauty, and a decidedly wide screen HDTV experience, Baraka takes the crown.

“Baraka is an ancient Sufi word, which can be translated as “a blessing, or as the breath, or essence of life from which the evolutionary process unfolds.”  For many people Baraka is the definitive film in this style. Breathtaking shots from around the world show the beauty and destruction of nature and humans. Coupled with an incredible soundtrack…”

# 4 Koyanisqaatsi, Powaqqatsi, and Naqoyqqatsi

Darker version exploring man’s existence. Hardhitting imagery that will drain you and music that will churn your psyche.

“The title is a Hopi Indian word meaning “life out of balance.” Created between 1975 and 1982, the film is an apocalyptic vision of the collision of two different worlds — urban life and technology versus the environment. The musical score was composed by Philip Glass.

KOYAANISQATSI attempts to reveal the beauty of the beast! We usually perceive our world, our way of living, as beautiful because there is nothing else to perceive. If one lives in this world, the globalized world of high technology, all one can see is one layer of commodity piled upon another.”

# 5 Network

We saw this film today. After looking at the credits in the Zeitgeist Movie. It blew our minds. Everyone who watches television, must watch this. Amazing, that the same thoughts are true and repeated in 2009.

# 6 George Carlin

Again inspired after watching The Zeitgeist Movie, I went looking for this guy on YouTube. J has been a fan for ages and guided me through the best. Standing ovation material.

Two of my favorite videos include:

The Modern Man

Religion is bullshit

Kind of makes me appreciate form over function. Why the way you say something is sometimes more important in driving in the point than what is being said.

# 7  South Park

It’s not for kids. It’s as Douglas Adamsian toilet humor as American television can deal with. It’s deep-rooted satire and it comes with a laugh. Not too many people can look at their lives or those of others’ this way. All hail, Eric Cartman, Kyle Broflowski, Stan, and Kenny. You guys rule!

# 8 Waking Life

If you can deal with passionate 4 paragraph dialogs. If an anthology of truth, opinion, speculation, and philosophy, beautifully intertwined in a gripping anime entices you, then Richard Linklater’s animated film is a pot of gold.

I still always have a copy of the script with me at all times. Still. It’s been 6 years and counting.

# 9 Story of Stuff

# 10 Les Carabiniers

Godard’s take on war. And I could have sworn, my best war film before this one was Life is Beautiful. The optimistic war film. The happy war film. Or Platoon. The raw war film. But the dark humor won me over here.

If you have any such experiences (and not necessarily films) that you absolutely must share with the rest of the world (read shove it down my throat, mine at the least), and not to share would be tantamount to blasphemy, please put up a post like this one and leave me a link.

It’s always fun to be angry about and at the same thing.

In a new land …

…things about yourself confront you from new mirrors. It’s like going to one store and finding that widening mirror when all along your home mirror has been telling you of a narrowing waistlines.

I am brand conscious to a degree. To be precise, I don’t want to be caught wearing the same jacket as 3 others at a vacation spot in another state. Obviously a popular choice, but then obviously a very en masse availability. I didn’t know I had these airs till I saw those jackets. I am ashamed of myself, but that jacket is going back unworn. I will buy myself a cheaper or different one from a beat store in hippie land. But I feel this strong need to assert my individuality here.

Whining aside. I have come to realize other selfish things about myself. My life revolves around my job, which I do really well. Take that away and I am like a lost puppy on crack sniffing glue. Nope the yoga doesn’t help. Neither does the walking. The only thing that does seem to help some is reading, watching sitcoms, or doing mundane routine work like cleaning the house.

Further whining aside, on a brighter note.

Dub. The music is so chill, I wonder why it took me 3 years to realize that. Bob Dylan has finally made a place for himself in my heart. 1 Giant Leap is a definitely recommended watch for anyone with a soul and ear for good music. I swear by the music and have made all true friends listen to it if they haven’t already. Now my quest is to show other people this documentary that I procured with great effort and cost.  It’s wonderful and you deserve to see it.

Saw Amadeus. It’s definitely worth one watch. But everything about the movie pales in comparison to the last one hour. Watch it at least once.

J introduced me to  the Zeitgeist movie that comes from the Zeitgeist movement. It’s a free Divx download. Do watch it. Yet another thing has broken down my belief mechanism. So I thought I will take it a step further, by reading not just The Autobiography of  a Yogi, but also The Selfish Gene at the same time. So far the experiment is having no effect on the lost puppy on crack sniffing glue. But I am not believing anything anymore.

Beauty continues to rock. Be it in America or in India. 🙂 Take a peek … 

Lake Powell, Page, Arizona

Mumbai Blasts – a 40 km view perspective

Before any opinion be published, context be established.

1. I live in extreme north Bombay. Birds are still twittering here.

2. The terrorist attacks did not directly affect my physical existential environment.

What Life Has Been Like

1. Dismayed, anguished, worried, concerned, and glued to the television.

2. Hopeful that things will pass over into history ASAP.

3. Apathetic to a certain extent after a while because scabs don’t feel pain as much as skin. Our skins have been long burnt by past attacks on our psyche.

4. Wondering if I had been a citizen of a different country would things HAVE been different?

5. What happens in the future?

People I Know Personally Affected by the Attacks

1. P: Was in Colaba in Henry Tham’s and walked past Leopolds (Leo’s to us) at 9 15 and then kept under secure arrest at Henry Tham for protection from the terrorist mayhem. She plans to put in her papers on Monday and take a fresh view of life and do things she didn’t do that she wanted to do.

2. My cousin H’s friend: Shot in the chest and dead at Leo’s from a group of 9 of which 4 sustained only injuries. The 9th died.

3. S: Left Leo’s at 9 and reached home to find out what had happened 30 mins after she did.

4. A’s friend who stays in NCPA: Reported the sounds of constant bullet fire through the day. All were huddled up in one room daring not to peep out.

5. Bro’s office: All his colleagues, who work right behind Express Towers (Air India Building) were sealed in and only allowed to leave 10 at a time. They spent at least 36 hours holed up at work. I am sure they have stories to tell about bullets.

As for me, I was riding back home on a train from Raipur on the morning of the 27th when I got the following message from J:

“Mumbai is burning and like a warzone. Gun battle on at Taj. Proceed with extreme caution.”

Not really exciting at 4 am in the morning inside a train. GPRS told me about CST being closed to traffic and about firing at the station. We took the 4 40 locals home. We reached home safe without incident. The only high point of the morning was the cop jeep parked outside the Mulund station, all 4 of them asleep. I burst out laughing. Terrorists really cannot hope for more. So no one ever heard of shifts and chai in the IPS.

People Speak

Most people I know are feeling more or less the same amounts of anguish, pain, fear, appall, etc. Of late though there has been an upsurge of negative sentiment against politicians. Popular topics include:

1. The President’s speech

Apparently it was so lacklustre, everyone is convinced he was half asleep and super unperturbed. At a time of extreme crisis, he didn’t even display the agony of a person bitten by a mosquito. Also, where is the aggression, we say? The country needs assurance from its leadership. But everyone lacks vision. What are we doing as a junta? Nothing. What can be a solution? A SWAT team? A crisis management program, increased security, and enough of the sentiment about how Mumbai can take any beating and come back. To quote the media slogan flouted on every frame of live news feed, Enough is Enough.

2. One of my friends who has studied crisis communication management says that research proves the following:

Under stress the human mind has space for 27 words in the head and a very short attention span. A message sent out in such a situation would ideally consist of a. Compassion. b. Reassurance. c. Optimism

Our country sucks at the kind of inconsistent message every media channel sends out.

3. There is yet another person who thinks a lot of the things shown on the television are a scam. He went to the outside of the Oberoi and hung out with the press reporters and got back the inside story. He has ideas that if published on this blog  can lead to my lynching so I will hope he puts them up himself.

Finally, What I Really Want to Know

1. Statistics including

– A head count of guests at both hotels and residents at Nariman House.

– How these heads have been accounted for.

– The REAL death toll.

2. Assurance that the city police has upped security in other areas in the city to ensure that a phase 2 of attacks isn’t waiting in ambush for Monday morning. What’s the guarantee that the terrorists went all in to all the venues. If I were to plan a multi-venue event, I wouldn’t do it without an external coordination team.

Sadly, we went for a film last night, and drove around our suburb, which incidently, happens to be the last in Mumbai going north. Yet, I saw 3 sleepy constables who didn’t give 2 shits about anybody passing by. We drove past deliberately slow with our windows rolled up, no one stopped us. No barricades. In fact, I didn’t see any sense of abnormal out there. The only thing that was tangible by its volume was the pall that has descended on the public in general. The groups of boys gathered outside paan tapris were all non boisterous and talking in low voices. (Yes, I did roll down my windows then.)

Lastly

I don’t give a fuck what the politicians say. I stopped judging people by speeches long ago. Action counts. So far, my 28 year old brain has come to terms with the fact that we are riding a regressive train of extremely slow speed as far as action in this country is concerned. So I’ll just pray for the souls of the departed.

osho zen

People are afraid, very much afraid of those who know themselves. They have a certain power, a certain aura and a certain magnetism, a charisma that can take out alive, young people from the traditional imprisonment….

The enlightened man cannot be enslaved – that is the difficulty – and he cannot be imprisoned…. Every genius who has known something of the inner is bound to be a little difficult to be absorbed; he is going to be an upsetting force. The masses don’t want to be disturbed, even though they may be in misery; they are in misery, but they are accustomed to the misery. And anybody who is not miserable looks like a stranger.

The enlightened man is the greatest stranger in the world; he does not seem to belong to anybody. No organization confines him, no community, no society, no nation.

Osho The Zen Manifesto: Freedom from Oneself Chapter 9

And then further for the Rebel card:

The Rebel challenges us to be courageous enough to take responsibility for who we are and to live our truth.

watsinaname to watsinaname: Do you have it in you?

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In the pondering over shallowness and depth, I ask why is either to be judged as bad? What’s wrong with being shallow, and if shallow according to Lord Shiva (and I agree) is always relative, then what pray tell me is deep enough? Are there others who think that the ocean may not be deep enough on a given day and a pond may contain the colossal abyss? On a given day of course.

magnifying glass

when you have a really empty mind, useless information overwhelmingly cascades in. for example, the temperature of a diet coke tin goes up drastically – like think 35 deg – when kept on the dashboard of a car in the timespace required to start the car and wear the seatbelt in bombay.

then the striking similarity between the words party and potty. have you heard that song doing the rounds of the radio called “saade naal kar le party, kudi tu lagti hai naughty” i think the singer made a decent attempt at rhyme and pulled it off.

also, newsprint does not make any allowances for people who haven’t read newsprint for a day, leave alone for 2.5 years. journalists tend to treat articles outside the editorial section like episodes of a television soap opera. also newsprint today reads like a television soap opera. when was the last time you were ambushed with info about a sindhi girl married to a gujju boy who used to dine out EVERY sunday and doesn’t because of the recession and has to watch costs by eating dhokla or paanki every night. or consider the case of the journalist who alleged angelina jolie was being a drama queen when she only claimed that people didn’t take her humanitarian work seriously because she acted in films. i don’t see the drama. i don’t see the royalty in the claim either. but i do see the effect that daily soap operas is having on the minds of reporters. everything is a scam.

this evening while relaxing on my bean bag i heard the dialogs from 3 different soaps in the span of 1 hour. all this while playing copious amounts of solitaire. in EACH of the serials, someone was victimizing someone else. and the victim was this hapless dumbass victim who for her intelligence and earnestness would have walked into a well of alpha male alligators expecting an aarti. and then there were the protagonist types who defended or saved the day. every day. wearing a strapless or backless blouse and a saree and grandiose amounts of makeup. its near summer here btw.

i think a reality check on television and newspapers is very essential every 2.5 years just so i know i don’t need this info really. like really. i dont give a shit how many eggs aamir khan ate to look ghajinized or how many people in the hanging garden area are taking to yoga post the recession. i’d really much rather read matthew reilly.

pull my cart

life is a series of choices between adjectives or possessions. like having money is not the same as being wealthy.

damu was talking last night about how some people can look at a bottle cap and come up with a business plan to make money out of its ridges. they don’t want to make the money. they just know how to ideate and want to get better at the ideation. the money is a by-product.

the other way of living life is to want the money and enroll in an endeavor to make it, then learn the skills necessary. u just keep getting better at making money and the by-product is knowledge of things you don’t give a shit about. visually the cart is pulling the horse… or is it donkey.

i think the fuck up happened in childhood itself.

when i was very young. my parents gave me a set of ideals to be. honest. smart. intelligent.

then came the time when they told me what i should possess. an education. a job. a toolkit for success on the financial and social graphs.

the switch from being to having. it was so subtle. i would fix it around 4th standard. coz after that you are constantly being chiseled to have an SSC degree. an HSC. an engineering degree. a job. a promotion.

after rediscovering the shallowness of my blind indoctrinated and completely believing drift, but having done nothing about it, i figure that my salvation lies in going back to the old method of being.

jedi’s think-feel-be philosophy has taken on enhanced dimension.

bombay duck

must every time in Mumbai be an eye opener of sorts. J keeps saying cities are nerve centres of energy flow in the country. in a city like Bombay, the flux is such a kaleidoscopic miasma that you cannot help but resort to the sunglasses. at first brush of course. the play of power. i catch myself trying to prove that i am a nifty driver even if i am driving an 800cc to a 1.3L car driver. an unfamiliar feeling. the wanting to prove to someone else.

dropped by andheri seven bungalows and lokhandwala yday. time was when lokhandwala was centre stage and the fame adlabs complex the high star of the area. right now with the number of buildings and complexes and highrises, that supremacy has been nullified to a great extent. the city is also coated in quilted roads. rectangular concrete blocks and slabs patched with tar blobs again in a square shape, and the latest cobblestoned paving variety that makes the car feel diarrhoea rumbles.

the concrete disconnects the earth from the sky even more.

i roll up semi-tinted glasses and wear full tinted eye gear and groove to 140 bpm music and soak it all in. the energy is inevitable. time to dance.

say what

if form must always follow function, then worshippers of form are shallow? at least this is my empirical understanding of shallowness. but without the perfect form, the function wouldn’t manifest itself in its resplendence. and this is where the two schools of thought that often collide … collide yet again.

A can implement the best form. B has a supreme function to be implemented. B has some ideas about implementation, but only A can do it just right. in the current moment that is. A has nothing to implement at the moment, but can implement anything. style. process. plan.  divine. look forward. look backward. plan. implement.

what?

A says anything.

B says what do you want to manifest? figure that out. the means will follow. the proficiency of the means will be determined by the intensity of your desire to manifest.

B is afraid that “what?” is lost in the whole “process.”

A says “you could do it so well.”

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C wanting to write should not be mistaken for C having an idea to express. Only if there was something to be said, C could do an outstanding job of it. A communicator and a Mont Blanc pen are more or less the same.

What has changed thrice.

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i believe i may be in a place where i can go back to zamm again. page 277.

green

what do you do when you see your words borrowed by someone’s thoughts? or your syntactical overtures wound around someone else’s idea.but what do u do when u realize u dont have the thoughts anymore.

life is a universe waiting to happen and cheap sunglasses frosted over by MS Word and Adobe FrameMaker transluscze the view. at sunrise especially.

i’m done raking weeds. for at least a short while. i prefer jasmine.

i’m going to change the world!

scriptures and poetry

“See what is invisible, and you will see what to write.”

That’s how Bobby used to put it.

It was the invisible people he wanted to live with.
The ones that we walk past every day.
The ones we sometimes become.
The ones in books who live only in someone’s mind’s eye.

He was a man who was destined to go through life and not around it.
A man who was sure the shortest path to heaven was straight through hell.

But the truth of his handicap…lay only in a mind both exalted and crippled by too many stories…and the path he chose to become one.

Bobby Long’s tragic flaw was his romance with all that he saw. And I guess if people want to believe in some form of justice…then Bobby Long got his for a song.

i saw a film about people of words yesterday. i mention this because i am a person of words. nj once said that the words themselves have a bigger impact on me than the meaning themselves. seems like. of the films that have had a major impact on me, films i can watch again, films i recommend time and over, almost all have interesting word play. like reality bites. or waking life. or even closer.

it’s one thing to read it, it’s yet another to hear the words spoken, just right by the characters on screen. film in question yesterday: A love song for Bobby Long. An independent film made off of a novel by Ronald Everett Capps called Off Magazine Street.

at this point i can easily drift off into a favorite janis joplin number involving another Bobby but … phhh .. control.

so basically 2 near-bards-frosts-whathaveyous with an extremely sexy scarlett johansson singing idyllic songs and quoting greats left right and centre.

the film isn’t about the words. it’s about the people themselves, but the words liberally littered throughout the film, were where I paused and went back and read. inside the book cover for instance where bobby wrote to lorraine:

“No matter what she did, there was music.”

you could easily miss that. all the director ever wanted you to see was that the note as signed by Bobby Long.

and then the barrage of authors thrown across at each other – all the fucking time – it was my dream come true – i have always held a fancy of being able to hold a conversation – an entire conversation that really means something to me while all the time quoting different authors.

The narrative starts with:

Time was never a friend to Bobby Long.
It would conspire against him…
allow him to believe in a generous nature,
then rob him blind every time.

Ever read the TS Eliot quote that said, “Genuine poetry communicates before it is understood.” That communication is what I live for. And to Thomas Stearns, I say, its not just poetry. It needn’t be.

And when I looked up TS Eliot to confirm the quote, I found this:

There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands,
That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

A toast to Ronald Everett Capps. And may you live to have a 100 and 6000 Cappucinos.