Sunday, March 26, 2006

Rage against

I used to scoff at the so called “Angry young man” stereotype that was so popular in movies. But now I’m beginning to understand why the angry chap is more than just a stupid symbol of crass, unfettered youth. Anger doesn’t go away ever, it just subsides to somewhere below the surface. If you’re angry about something, you’ll probably be angry about it years later even. If you’re not then you’ve either forgotten or let it go in frustration. Which doesn’t mean that you wouldn’t be angry if it happened again… aha! So anger doesn’t disappear, you just choose to either ignore it or take action, each decision having its consequence. There’s big anger and little anger. There’s serious anger and there’s inconsequential anger. There’s an anger peak and an anger trough. Tempers may rise and anger may subside, but it remains a permanent fixture.

I am angry. It’s rarely blinding rage but it’s all of the little ones that add to the big ones to create a seething, foaming, explosive cauldron of hatred of the very humanity surrounding me and within me. Yes. By now you’ve figured it out too. Whoa. Who knew I was such an insane fucker! Yes. Insane? I don’t know. Go listen to some Simon and Garfunkel, asshole. That won’t make a difference but it should get you off my back at least.

Of course I’m angry. If you’re not angry you can’t be alive, jacko. Do you think your prehistoric parentage survived by not getting pissed every time that pesky smilodon tried to take a chunk outta their asses? But that’s not even relevant now.

I’m angry. Because of every person who comes to the door when I’m trying to get some sleep; angry because of every time the maid comes late when I’m in a hurry to go out; angry because of constant cable blackouts; angry because of dead hyperlinks; angry because of people who won’t just stay the hell away from me; angry because of bastards who can’t spell worth enough to save their momma’s virtue; angry because of people who ask unintelligent questions; angry because babies are unintelligible; angry because of roads from hell; angry because of the lack of fuckers in uniform upholding the rules that are the very basis of their jobs; angry because of cyclists: save for those who do it as a sport, the rest are unholy pests to mankind; angry because of jaywalking motherfuckers who stroll across the street any time their great grand daddy’s ghost tells them to; angry because it’s a crime to crush them; angry because of dumbasses who don’t know that high beam isn’t the only setting on their headlamp; angry because of the dicks who know it and use it continually; angry because of politicians who don’t give a fuck about soldiers dying for their country; angry because I have to watch Canadian seals being clubbed to death on the news; angry because most people never witness these sights; angry because we are so malevolent; angry because of too many charities; angry because in spite of too many charities there are 4 year old children begging at traffic lights; angry because no one gives enough of a shit to do something about it.
I’m angry because our country is underestimated; angry because it is rightly so; angry because of our ever growing population; angry because the fucking majority don’t know any better; angry because of illiteracy… horrible, crippling illiteracy; angry because the pricks who are Bollywood high folk insist on talking in English even though their pockets are being filled to speak in Hindi; angry because of good music being raped into conforming to modern tastes; angry because there are so few creators of noteworthy music and literature; angry because I haven’t done anything noteworthy; angry because I might never; angry because I’ve missed the time of my life; angry because as much as you give, somebody will always want more; angry because children learn cruelty; angry because of overzealous religious sentimentalists; angry because I lose myself without thinking; angry because I hate too many people without showing it; angry because I love; angry because I can’t meet my own expectations; angry because I’m fucking stumbling through life.

I’m angry because I want to be. I’m angry because cursing feels better than ignoring the annoyance. I’m angry because of everyone who thinks this is just another exasperating tirade.
I’m angry because I can’t do anything about it all and even if I could, wouldn’t.
I get it.

Self censorship? You’re a fucking moron. Fuck you, asshole. Too much? Simon and Garfunkel.



Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

-- Dylan Thomas


Roy Orbison – Blue Bayou
A-Ha – Take On Me



Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Pimpin' stylez

Hip hop. I’m willing to bet there isn’t a civilized (and some not, even) country in the world which hasn’t been hit by the phenomenon. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if National Geographic ran a cover story on rapping pygmies!
“I’m a P-Y-G, you can call me Rick. Only 3 foot 9, I got a 10 foot dick!”
Catchy, you say?
Hip hop has steadily been gaining momentum for the last decade or so, growing from its basic rap roots, with countless posers infiltrating the bastion of artists like Dr. Dre, Salt ‘n Pepa and Snoop Dog. More recently, there have been more new hip hoppers than I can count. But the most amazing part I’ve found is that there have been more successes than there have been flashes in the pan, which would indicate that hip hop music has been something of a short cut to success. “Get Rich Or Die Trying” somebody said. “Somebody”.

That seems to be the prevalent attitude of most wannabe bad boys breaking out on the music scene. What about the music? Oh wait…this is hip hop. Somebody, please keep reminding me!

What has any of this got to do with me? Nothing really, other than I have to see it everywhere I go and know that it’s here to stay, no matter what I have to say.
What’s my problem? Why can’t I just live with it? Yeah sure, like the rest of the sheep. Sure the bling is attractive and the skimpily dressed girls obviously conjure up wild fantasies. But what has society come to when we reward the objectification of women and advocacy of irresponsible sexual behaviour, with zooming record sales?
There was a time when most everything that was bad in the world was blamed on rock and roll. Violence, teenage pregnancies, anti-socialism... Rock music always took the fall. And not a parent would have disagreed. Give me that time any day. I prefer the time when men acted like men and women fought for empowerment instead of dressing like sluts and “belonging” to their men, thus the pimp – hooker relationship that is being so freely advocated by people who are held up as idols. Rockstars had their share of women without having to strut around in music videos, followed by a bevy of semi nude skanks and “singing” to their fans about what Casanovas they were.

And if rock music could have been an instiller of violent behaviour, rap doesn’t exactly take a back seat. The cases of Tupac and Notorious BIG speak for themselves. But still, it’s projected as cool to walk the roads adorned with rings and chains, with pumped high tops, floating in the oversized sports gear of a winning basketball team and the butt of a hand gun protruding over your waistband. Now that’s hip! Or is it hop? I never know…

This isn’t an attack on the West; it’s a remark on how this so called culture seems to be eating away at the established cultures of the world. A de-evolution of sorts. Morals are diminishing to nothing more than a topic relegated to the classroom and Sunday school discussions. And there are very few vanguards of virtuosity left in the world. I don’t want to sound like a preacher because that’s the last thing I could ever be. I just want the world to not collapse on top of everything that it has built for itself over these nigh on countless years. Call me a prude, but I would never want my kid aspiring to be a “Pimp” or a “Ho”. And yet, kids/teens are huge consumers and, I’m guessing secretly, a major part of the target audience for the propaganda that is gripping every continent.
No doubt, awesomely talented performers do exist in this field. Dre, Tupac, Notorious BIG, Snoop Dog, Eminem, 50 Cent and the like have carved out massive names for themselves in the music industry, not by any luck. Irrespective of the lifestyle they portray, they are geniuses in their own right and do have my respect.

I don’t want hip hop to go away. No, I listen to it myself! It is fun after all. And everybody wants to envision a hedonistic lifestyle for themselves, where they can drive down the street in a blinged out Lowrider with their personal set of beauties in the back seat. But my world wouldn’t exactly come crashing down if I didn’t have those images in my head. All I’m wanting here is some form of human realization of the direction that we’re heading in. As it is, I’m already pretty sure that all those prophecies of inevitable doom are just waiting to be proven right and they’re being helped along by every technological advancement that we make. But what’s the point in living till the end of days if civilization itself breaks down?
Today I can still enjoy music that was created in the time before my parents even. I don’t think that 30 years down the line I will have much music of my own time to choose from.



Motorhead – The Game