Monday, January 31, 2005
A LITANY OF OPINIONS
A note on my take on a few matters that have purportedly affected me lately
Obscurantism appears the leitmotif of the origins of the PHL—a shot in the dark mired in the recesses of stale commerce rather than a bud blooming under open skies for the sheer joy of sport. I have never believed that holding up examples of success will go too far without pumping in commitment and investment at the levels that produce talent—true for hockey as much for say, sculpture.
Commercial success is not an indicator of anything, is not a function of anything, does not predict anything, does not guarantee anything, and Ayn Rand can go take a walk.
I wish I liked hockey, though.. but I will be the last one to watch it just because my blithering nation has decided to proceed with a harebrained heist.
I am ashamed that we should gauge our prowess in any field by the recognition that the fatally flawed West deigns to bestow drowning in indulgence and condescension. I am even more ashamed when somebody from outside has to point out the hope, optimism, glory and grandeur of my land. ( Ed—Jingoism drips from every word, mon cher !)
I have not attempted to watch Shwaas—am sure that it would well worth the aura that it has garnered, and will encourage similar projects. But to yield to panegyrics of the film, and berate all and sundry for their lack of public support was foolhardy and meaningless, besides a good way to lose money.
A note on my take on a few matters that have purportedly affected me lately
Obscurantism appears the leitmotif of the origins of the PHL—a shot in the dark mired in the recesses of stale commerce rather than a bud blooming under open skies for the sheer joy of sport. I have never believed that holding up examples of success will go too far without pumping in commitment and investment at the levels that produce talent—true for hockey as much for say, sculpture.
Commercial success is not an indicator of anything, is not a function of anything, does not predict anything, does not guarantee anything, and Ayn Rand can go take a walk.
I wish I liked hockey, though.. but I will be the last one to watch it just because my blithering nation has decided to proceed with a harebrained heist.
I am ashamed that we should gauge our prowess in any field by the recognition that the fatally flawed West deigns to bestow drowning in indulgence and condescension. I am even more ashamed when somebody from outside has to point out the hope, optimism, glory and grandeur of my land. ( Ed—Jingoism drips from every word, mon cher !)
I have not attempted to watch Shwaas—am sure that it would well worth the aura that it has garnered, and will encourage similar projects. But to yield to panegyrics of the film, and berate all and sundry for their lack of public support was foolhardy and meaningless, besides a good way to lose money.
How on earth does anyone, but anyone, believe that winning the Best Foreign Film award at the Oscars would give Indian cinema a new lease of life ?
Why must an Indian film compete on vastly unequal ground for any reason whatsoever ?
Maddening and frustrating, more so that not winning does not detract one wee bit from the artistic excellence that the director achieved.
Nor vice versa.
I mean , Titanic won so many ( Ed—Watch it, watch it, don’t go overboard !)
Now for the most knotty case. Rohan Pinto ko gussa kyon aata hai, or rather, Rohan Pinto ko dekhkar hame gussa kyon aata hai.
Righteous indignation is but natural, especially when the scrambled outpouring of a human brain is concerned. More so, when the public front is that my opinion is as inviolable, as inextricable a reflection of my cognitive muttering as can be.
Something that one I admire unabashedly said to me—How can you presume that your opinion and outlook, which you cling on so fervently is your own ? When I replied that I did not know what was meant, I was told that my “self-concept” is defined by so many directions and shaped by so many personas that I am left with and acquainted with the addled mess, and very little else.
Why must an Indian film compete on vastly unequal ground for any reason whatsoever ?
Maddening and frustrating, more so that not winning does not detract one wee bit from the artistic excellence that the director achieved.
Nor vice versa.
I mean , Titanic won so many ( Ed—Watch it, watch it, don’t go overboard !)
Now for the most knotty case. Rohan Pinto ko gussa kyon aata hai, or rather, Rohan Pinto ko dekhkar hame gussa kyon aata hai.
Righteous indignation is but natural, especially when the scrambled outpouring of a human brain is concerned. More so, when the public front is that my opinion is as inviolable, as inextricable a reflection of my cognitive muttering as can be.
Something that one I admire unabashedly said to me—How can you presume that your opinion and outlook, which you cling on so fervently is your own ? When I replied that I did not know what was meant, I was told that my “self-concept” is defined by so many directions and shaped by so many personas that I am left with and acquainted with the addled mess, and very little else.
Couldn't disagree with that.
As an example, I could aver that my unwavering for the underdog is an outcome of my childish admiration and concern for a beloved mythological character, or my raillery against the rapacious advances of capitalism is born from an innate hatred of privation.
Anyway, I find it unfathomable that a reader of a blog is dissociated greatly from the quintessence of the writer’s raison d’etre, his/her mental models or reference points. Henceforth, I see no merit , artistic, literary or otherwise in plagiarizing in a forum as intricate and diverse as this. So I would really question the intelligence of any reader who strings along RP’s specious claims about his originality. And that to my mind, is the end of the matter.
( Ed—You crave plurality from an insular and singular point of view, but I will let that pass )
Anyway, I find it unfathomable that a reader of a blog is dissociated greatly from the quintessence of the writer’s raison d’etre, his/her mental models or reference points. Henceforth, I see no merit , artistic, literary or otherwise in plagiarizing in a forum as intricate and diverse as this. So I would really question the intelligence of any reader who strings along RP’s specious claims about his originality. And that to my mind, is the end of the matter.
( Ed—You crave plurality from an insular and singular point of view, but I will let that pass )
