Come & chat @ paraplegic theatre:

http://www.glitchgore.com/talk.html

Boddhisatva Pimp … an interview with Reverend Spook.

Plus, I’m getting rid of some of the old shit posts, and my intention, at least, is to be more active with this blog.

I really fucking don’t. Everytime it seems as if I’ve got a bit of a foothold, turns out to be just an illusion. Oh well I suppose there’s joy in recognising that at least

None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.—Goethe

Just to remind everyone that Rev Spook’s excellent blog, the daily excrement, is back up again:

http://excrement.wordpress.com/

He’s also a really exciting musician, check out these links:

http://www.myspace.com/ripisc

http://www.myspace.com/gl1tchg0r3

Joy is brief
Sorrow and grief are endless.
– Kabir

I am currently reading RAW’s Cosmic Trigger II  which has led me to rediscover my love for the man’s work. I have to say that I’m especially fond of the brilliant, incisive quotes that RAW generously peppers the book with, usually at the head of each chapter. I enjoyed these a lot so I thought I’d share:

“Don’t you know that if people could bottle the air they would? Don’t you know that there would be an American Air-bottling Association? And don’t you know that they would allow thousands and millions to die for want of breath, if they could not pay for air? I am not blaming anybody. I am just telling how it is.”
Robert Ingersoll, A Lay Sermon

“The enemy aggressor is always pursuing a course of larceny, murder, rapine and barbarism. We are always moving forward with high mission, a destiny imposed by the deity to regenerate our victims while incidentally capturing their markets, to civilise savage and senile and paranoid peoples while blundering accidentally into their oil wells.”
John_T._Flynn

“How many does it take to metamorphose wickedness into righteousness? One man must not kill. If he does, it is murder…. But a state or nation may kill as many as they please, and it is not murder. It is just, necessary, commendable, and right. Only get people enough to agree to it, and the butchery of myriads of human beings is perfectly innocent. But how many does it take?”
Adin Ballou - The Non-Resistant, 5 February 1845

“To plunder, to slaughter, to steal, these things they misname empire; and where they make a desert, they call it peace.”
Calgacus

Any relevance to modern day Western Foreign Policy is purely coincidental.

I also really like this haiku by Basho that I found at the front of Jim Dodge’s Fup, even though it sounds a bit too profound for the likes of me:

The temple bell stops
but the sound keeps coming
out of the flowers.

Is there for honest poverty
That hangs his head, an’ a’ that
The coward slave, we pass him by
We dare be poor for a’ that
For a’ that, an’ a’ that
The rank is but the guinea’s stamp
The man’s the gowd for a’ that

What though on hamely fare we dine
Wear hoddin grey, an’ a’ that
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine
A man’s a man, for a’ that
For a’ that, an’ a’ that
Their tinsel show an’ a’ that
The honest man, though e’er sae poor
Is king o’ men for a’ that

Ye see yon birkie ca’d a lord
Wha struts an’ stares an’ a’ that
Tho’ hundreds worship at his word
He’s but a coof for a’ that
For a’ that, an’ a’ that
The man o’ independent mind
He looks an’ laughs at a’ that

A prince can mak’ a belted knight
A marquise, duke, an’ a’ that
But an honest man’s aboon his might
Gude faith, he maunna fa’ that
For a’ that an’ a’ that
Their dignities an’ a’ that
The pith o’ sense an’ pride o’ worth
Are higher rank that a’ that

Then let us pray that come it may
(as come it will for a’ that)
That sense and worth, o’er a’ the earth
Shall bear the gree an’ a’ that
For a’ that an’ a’ that
It’s coming yet for a’ that
That man to man, the world o’er
Shall brithers be for a’ that

What is happening and how have you been
Gotta go but I’ll see you again
And oh, the music is so loud
And then I fade into the…

Crowds of people standing everywhere
‘Cross the street I’m at this laugh affair
And here they always play my songs
And me, I wonder if it’s…

Wrong or right they come here just the same
Telling everyone about their games
And if you think it obsolete
Then you go back across the street
Yeah, street, hey hey

When I leave now don’t you weep for me
I’ll be back, just save a seat for me
But if you just can’t make the room
Look up and see me on the…

Moon’s a common scene around my town
Here where everyone is painted brown
And if we feel that’s not the way
Let’s go paint everybody gray
Yeah, gray, yeah

– Love

Here’s a really good article on the Pakistani authorities’ neglect of Lahore – a neglect that borders on contempt for that truly venerable city and its innumerable treasures — by Simon Jenkins of the Guardian. Jenkins manages to touch on the many layers of Pakistan’s history (pre-Islamic, Mogul, British Raj) that have bequeathed countless impressive, often dazzling, monuments and relics, to the modern day city of Lahore. Only, that is, for Pakistan’s current totalitarian regime to allow them to fall derelict or to demolish them for short term profit in a society where corruption is the norm. Of course this has to be understood in the context of a country where the treatment of most human beings and the low cost placed on their lives and wellbeing is the greatest outrage. That understood, I have to confess that being of Pakistani origin myself I am angry at the thought that so much of my heritage (and not just in Lahore, where it is most tragically apparent) is being wiped out as a result of greed and carelessness. I was in Lahore in 2005 and was absolutely amazed at how beautiful it was, and that a city with such an illustrious past, a past still visible in the streets and boulevards, within the Walled City, was practically unknown here in the West where we continually exalt places like Paris, Rome, and Venice — who knew dirty little Pakistan held such a jewel? 

I guess a part of it is selfishishness: being Pakistani (well of Pakistani-origin anyway) I’d much rather for my own sense of self-esteem that Pakistan were known for the exquisite mogul architecture of Lahore and the stupendous beauty of the Karkorams, things like that, than as a hotbed of terrorism and fundamentalism, whose people are eminently expendable and whose only real worth is strategic in the war against (some) terror. And this is because no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise, to rid myself of this habit of thought, I do identify myself with that Godforsaken country — it’s in the blood.