Archive for the ‘Philosophy’ Category

Idealists… Freedom Beckons

I just read something I typed on November 18, 2008 - but never published. Wow. It goes like this…

Today I deliberate on the meaning of freedom. Human rights. Basic needs. And the cost of freedom.

I quote from Micheal Moore’s 5 Nov Letter on President-Elect Obama’s win:

“We may, just possibly, also see a time of refreshing openness, enlightenment and creativity. The arts and the artists will not be seen as the enemy. Perhaps art will be explored in order to discover the greater truths. When FDR was ushered in with his landslide in 1932, what followed was Frank Capra and Preston Sturgis, Woody Guthrie and John Steinbeck, Dorothea Lange and Orson Welles. All week long I have been inundated with media asking me, “gee, Mike, what will you do now that Bush is gone?” Are they kidding? What will it be like to work and create in an environment that nurtures and supports film and the arts, science and invention, and the freedom to be whatever you want to be? Watch a thousand flowers bloom! We’ve entered a new era, and if I could sum up our collective first thought of this new era, it is this: Anything Is Possible.”

Failure, Empathy & the Imagination

J.K. Rowling speaks. Listen to eloquence, rhyme and profundity.

Something about tens

It seems, this year’s throwing the ‘tens’ around. At least at me.

A few hours ago, before midnight - I played the song “All Around Me” by Flyleaf for the 100th time. Slightly over a week ago, I tweeted my 1001th tweet. This year also marks the 10th year of leaving secondary school. A significant milestone 2010 will be to to me. And the fascination with these ones and zeros will continue to be.

You’re Not Alone

Japanese Perfection

Watched The Ramen Girl again today - in it’s entirety. The last I watched, I probably missed the beginning scenes. Anyway, it seems more evident, that there is something uniquely tranquil and mystical about the Japanese way of doing things. Maybe its got something to do with the tension of environments they are forced into - the hustle and bustle of urban modernity meets/versus solitary nature, green, zen, soul.

Spoke to a friend or two about my fascination with Hakagure - The Art of the Samurai. The artistry is oh so… meaningful. The mind wonders about this pursuit of perfection = pursuit of meaning to life.

I am also reminded of Departures - the movie. Meaning of life found, in the ceremonial preparation of the dead - for those that are mourning.

Then some days earlier, I watched Paris, Je T’aime - this film, is about finding love.

Profound, all these films are.

Waking Life

So I stepped into this Neo world, whose skin is mist covering iridescent pearl.
I catch a glimpse of this shimmery thing, the star hanging on this rear-view mirror;
reminiscent of Orion’s constellation just moments earlier;
when the sky was clear and clouds not seen, I stare in admiration as stars do inspire.

Watched Waking Life for the second time, on the second day. Again, I feel so much awe. Life is… now. It is also eternal. It is also momentary. Time, is like an elastic ozone of permissive life - of continuous opportunities to exasperate and extricate an affirmative ‘yes’ to the question of being ‘one’ - with eternity, of finding immortality.

The most profound, verbose, discourse of existential psychology and the memento of dreams; capturing in lucid transcendence - the human attempt to understand and tame it.

The Man Dies

The names of the actors are rolling-in but the lights are still dimmed. Usually by now they would have it all turned on, but I really didn’t want them to. So I sat up straight and leaned forward, elbows on the backrest of the seat in front of me, chin on them, and eyes glued to the silver screen - trying to appreciate what I just watched for the last two hours.

“The Time Traveler’s Wife“, it reads. A few seconds after - therein, the credits of movie makers start to appear. Then the lights come on. By now I was seating back trying to truly grasp all that was - the movie.

It is good! It’s not just a love story, I feel. It’s about time, love, and loss. It’s about the need to live the now - for later. And time, being transient, ephemeral and fleeting - is merciless. And we, it’s occupants, are bound. Therefore, we - time-bound-beings, need to make full use of it’s linear ‘dimension-ality’. Our occupation in this very moment, counts for the very essence of existence. Even so, time is also fateful. Things happen for a reason. And one day, I’ll find out why. Also I belief divinity sees time in multi-dimensions, hence having full knowledge of the past, present and future - and IS at it’s helm. So the probing question for self analysis is - am I existing now, if I choose to not to anything now? Anything substantial that is. I suppose there must be some sort of philosophical branch that wrecks-brains about these kinds of questions. The existentialists maybe? We all have a choice nevertheless; to be & live in the now/there. To dasein. I hope I choose to live the now - for the right kinda tomorrow. Choose right, do right and not be needing to wish I could correct my could-have-been-right last nights.

Anyway… Audrey Niffenegger and Robert Schwentke, author and director of the film respectively, deserves kudos. I wish I could write, and tell stories and record them in motion and light and pass them on so vividly and brilliantly as they do. Ahh. Art. I love thee.

So while gathering my thoughts, I recall watching a few other films, nights before and I’m starting to see a striking connection about these films. Today I watched The Time Traveler’s Wife. A couple of days back, I watched Namesake. Several days before that I watched Romeo & Juliet (the Baz Luhrmann adaptation). And then a while back, I remember watching Partition (the one with Kristin Kreuk). Common denominating factor; the protagonist husband, dies. Fortunately, between Romeo & Juliet and Namesake, I watched City of Angels - this time, well, unfortunately - the lady dies. Yet I love all of these movies. It teaches you something about life. I learn from The Time Traveler’s Wife - that, well, maybe you’ll one day get propose to a girl who’ll know how to joke and say ‘no’ just to express freewill but not really mean it. And that’s dandy In Romeo & Juliet, one wishes to have poetry in life - in some sort of nu-Shakespearean kinda way. And not to swear on the moons and the stars, but to ’swear’ on thy self for I art my fair-lady’s imagery of god (heavy paraphrasing here). In Partition, one wishes that the world unites in one-ness and seeks peace, in all matters of culture, religion and what-nots. Let bygones be bygones, and let not a foolish family feud be one that is passed on to generations to come. The latter resounds true for Romeo and Juliet as well. It is sad that where humanity fails, there comes saving grace in the form of a story of heaven finding means to kill discord’s loves with lost. And in City of Angels - one deeply appreciates the palatable texture of eating a pear.

I also like the end titles of The Time Traveler’s Wife. It is by a mnemonically apt person named Scarlet Letters. Such simple fusing of fine music along with a kaleidoscopic bokeh of lights - lovely.

So leave me dear blog-post, to my bewilderment and I bid thee good morrow. For it’s fast approaching dawn and I am intent and making today/tonight/tomorrow count for time-eternal post-haste.

Next thing to read, Odysseus (by Homer) - it’s in the iPhone waiting to be read. The story’s similar to this movie’s love/loss/time theme sorta thingy. But it’ll have to wait, my bookish retreat is in the form of Alice in Wonderland for now.

I Love Dreams (& Soft-Toys)

I absolutely love dreaming. Makes sleeping-time worth the sleep. There’s something about having no worries, ‘living out’ utter randomness. God’s ‘creativity’ is so ‘perfect’ in this world. I pray every day that I dream dreams that are meaningful, wonderful, awe-inspiring. But if utter randomness, and imbalanced-body-clock-bad-body-chemistry takes over, and bad dreams appear - it’s nothing to cry about. In that state of semi-consciousness, I’ve realized that I can sometimes dictate where my dream takes me. Yet if I can’t, and if I wake in the midst of a bad one, I stop, I say a pray, then I give it a few moments to let it sink in me-now-slightly-more-conscious state of mind, then I get back to sleep - now I try to ‘press’ the resume button on the upper-middle-quadrant of the right hemisphere of ze’ brain… Okay, maybe that’s just an attempt at subjugation. But if I do continue where I left off - what better time than now, to correct it Otherwise, it’s time to move on to your next dream (given we’re in the next REM cycle).

Thank you Lord for dreams, they make no-sense sometimes, but one can hope that it makes more sense than the senseless world we sometimes live in. Help me appreciate the life you’ve given me and the opportunity for rest. Although I wish for a longer state of dreaming, I know I have to do the things I have to do in the non-dreaming world. May you then, speak to me when I do dream. Coz that’s like the only time, my mind doesn’t get in the way of things you want to say to me. Or I hope so. So speak to me like you did to Nebuchadnezzar, just don’t make me wonder too much. Maybe, make me understand dreams like Daniel. May I dream, then live and live in full abundance because I’ve dreamt, and in that dream, you spoke to me. Told me things, and shown me greater things. Bless the days, and more so the nights. Thank you for the power of the mind, and also the powerless mind when it comes to orienteering dreams. In our dreams, we’re all the same. We are all wanting, all needing, all seeking, all fearful. So take over MY mind, my dreams, and make it whole. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

And o I love the very-old-fur-flattened-puppy-with-a-belly-named-’puppy’ that’s sleeping next to me when I go to bed. He’s a representation of motherly love, and innocence. I think mum bought me that when I was like… 10? O my.

I wrote another post a long time ago on Dreams.

Watch: What dreams may come, featuring Robin Williams

Read about man’s attempt at dream interpretation mostly of the Freud kind. Then read a lil about Daniel’s interpretation.

Cool Ideas

Creativity is the verve of the universe. It is divine, thriving, undying.

The account of Genesis 1:16-18 records, “And God made the two great lights—the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night—and the stars. And God set them in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth, to rule over the day and over the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good…”

May I seek Thee. Fix my gaze, lest I fall prey to mundanity. Inspire me, revoke me, muse me, lead me. In my designs, may I draw closely to You who IS creativity, my ethereality.

(Post writing… I sound so evanescence now. Hmm.)

Virtuality

This is so surreal, yet not lacking in any visceral sentiment. It is deeply felt.

O how I wish I could create, correct, colour, rehabilitate certain aspects of my life - past and present and future. I wonder about choice and the arbitrary decisions we make daily. I think of the realm I am living in, and however it may seem - bleak or vivid, surely serves a greater purpose of rehabilitation - to an ideal state of conscience and being. May I choose that which brings me closer to that Ideal.

I see myself being attracted to both characters - their desires and their needs. I relate as much to him - creating, in the hope and need to save; as much as I relate to her, in the helplessness and reliance of some being, that is greater than this limiting dimension of which I happen to be living in. I think I tarry being in a coma more than I am being a creator. I am crawling in a dimension, navigating my way through paths in hopes to actualize and be mesmerized by the creator of the flower, than the flower in itself. But thank you for flowers nonetheless.

In the lives of others, I wish to be like the creator, or at the very least - a semblance of colour. In the lives of others, I hope I spill colours - colours of one refined palate that is so vivid, you cannot not find life in that which is coloured. I hope the things that I touch, model and make take on colours that carry a saturation and vigor that is enough to rouse the living dead. Yet, to rouse is not my doing. I should only colour and colour well. Or maybe, I should colour myself enough, so that the very things that I touch, be coloured by touch, rather than a brush.

O how I rhyme Selah.

This I sign, May I, may You - have I to colour and be alive.

One Must

There comes a time, when one must do what he must.
Now, there is much to do - one prays for sustenance.
Yet he wishes to evanesce.

Linger on, he shall. He could. But surpass lingering, he must.
Yet I, alone cannot. So he submits, for it is not his will, but His.
And He, through Him and by Him all things are as it should be.
I think.

Therefore I am.

Did you know?

Here’s something that’ll surely keep one on the edge of his/her seat. Some of these ’stats’, are commonplace. But some - like the note that in 2049, a $1000 computer has computational capabilities exceeding that of the entire human race, is downright scary. I wonder whether I’ll live through such trying times. Strangely - somehow after watching this, one is fearfully challenged to make the most of today with whatever one can, now. Not so much as to contribute to the possibilities of this future world, but because there is a need to lodge an attempt to preserve a constant - her soul - the dying human soul. The human soul evolves not but revolts aplenty and it is constantly found wanting. Fortunately, saving grace is still in abundance, available and free. One needs to find it, take it, live with it, before it slips away, never to be found again. Evanesce not my soul, live because He lives.
 

Elevate

I’m in a pretty hyped spirit these days. Maybe it’s the daunting days that lay ahead. Maybe it’s adrenaline. Anyway, here’s what I’m listening to…

All Around Me by Flyleaf. Check the video. Super, if you like artsy. So love it. For copyright reasons, their music video doesn’t play in YouTube in M’sia. Sigh. O well.

Also, We Are Broken by Paramore. Here’s the live version.

Laborem Exercens

It means, the value of human labour. I found and read this today, well, only the first paragraph (as of now). But the prologue, is enough to define and properly encapsulate the ideal, original intent of creation and such things that I have come to categorize as an ‘oh-well’ kinda-thing we do in life; work.

I continue reading Socrates in Love; it speaks of a concept called Ubuntu. It’s the communal Storge concept, “…They believed it was each person’s moral duty always to take into consideration the interests and welfare of everyone else with whom you interact - not just your tribe, but everyone. By showing compassion and hospitality, you widen the circle of your tribe by bringing all of humanity into your fold.” (Pg. 112)

There’s also a current artiste I can’t get enough of lately. She simply-explicitly sings my heart-song, especially in this song, Extravagant Worship. Here’s how it sounds…

Listen.

Kes, the epiphany of the matter is; to heed vocare, and immerse in vocation - the kind that you-cannot-not-do, with no remorse over self sacrifice and to be in passionate-reckless-abandon is to have an ethereal encounter… on earth.

It’s going to take a while to worry less about death and taxes,
but the privilege to serve and know that He feeds the crows
is grace enough to draw and seek all that is of my soul’s recesses
- to move forth and definitely go.

The Kesterize Ideal

Today I found this quote…

“The difference between a great design and a lousy one is in the meshing of the thousand details that either fit or don’t, and the spirit of the passionate intellect that has tied them together,” wrote the American sociologist Ted Nelson.

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