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"I am a soul who has had A hundred thousand bodies. But I can't talk about it. What can I do? I am tongue-tied. I have seen thousands Of people who were all me. But from them I haven't found Any like me."



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Tuesday, October 29, 2002

A
Gallery of Malaysian Signs


 

 





posted by CoolSoulSmith a.k.a Rinci|ak

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Monday, October 28, 2002

 Your
problems solved


                                                                 
by Amir Muhammad


LET'S face it: There are many people in this world who are perplexed,
perturbed or plain screwed-up. One of the joys of writing this column is
that I can help solve some of the problems that my gentle readers choose to
periodically shove my way. For the benefit of us all, I enclose a few recent
samples from my life as the "Dear Thelma" of the literary world. Happy
healing.

Dear Amir,
I have a problem. I find dead people incredibly sexy. Whenever a
good-looking celebrity dies by crashing, hanging, shooting or drowning, I
experience the most intense and delicious paroxysms of delight that course
throughout my shuddering body, tingling my nerves, making me moan and
leaving me bewitched, bothered and bewildered. I'm too ashamed to admit
this to anyone but you, since I have a gut feeling that you're a guy who
would appreciate this sort of thing. Any literary thoughts on the matter?

Morbid in Mentakab

Dear Morbid,
Thank you for your charming letter! Necrophilia as a literary theme has
certainly been well-documented in Romantic literature such as Emily Bronte's
Wuthering Heights, which features Heathcliff digging up Catherine's grave to
quench his unbearable longing, and the Keats poem 'Isabella and the Pot of
Basil', where the heroine keeps her boyfriend's severed head and wets it
everyday.

In pop culture, the whole corpse-as-fetish phenomenon can be observed in
Hitchcock's Vertigo, Lynch's Twin Peaks and most blatantly in the Canadian
movie Kissed, about a female morgue attendant who takes certain unusual
liberties with some of her male charges. I suspect that the Dionysian mass
ecstasy over dead celebrities is, at the very core, a subliminal religious
impulse connected to the veneration of saints and martyrs. Dead people
cannot disappoint you; they exist entirely in the realm of "what might have
been". And possibilities are always dead sexy. So shudder away!



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Amir,
I have this problem. Whenever something goes wrong with my life, I blame it
on evil foreigners. It's a knee-jerk reaction that I've had for years. It
has served me well so far, but some people are getting tired of it. Do you
suggest I change?

Blameless in Bangi

Dear Blameless,
It's never too late! For a balanced perspective on foreigners I suggest you
read Louis de Bernieres' runaway bestseller Captain Corelli's Mandolin. It's
a novel by an Englishman with a French-sounding name, set on a Greek island,
with an Italian guy in the title. That alone should give you an idea of how
it effortlessly transcends petty national boundaries.

Set during World War Two, it tells the extraordinary story of how the
Italian Army occupied Greece and then how a few of their soldiers rebelled
and actually tried to defend the country against Germany. The point is that
although the Greeks initially reacted with hostility to the Italians, the
latter turned out to be pretty decent after all.

Why has this book sold so well? Aside from the fact that it's marvellously
written, I think people react positively to its implicit theme: rigid
nationalism favours only demagogues; the real story is always more
complicated than merely us-against-them. Read it and weep!



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Amir,
I have a friend who's a playwright. He is one of the sweetest, kindest and
gentlest people you've ever met. Well, I recently heard that his new play
could not be staged because it wasn't good enough; no actor or director
wanted to touch it. Some of the words used to describe it were
"subcretinous" and "intergalactically stinky" while others were even less
generous. These attacks should have saddened me but instead they cheered me
up considerably. I actually enjoyed seeing my friend fall flat on his sweet,
kind, gentle face. I wanted to shout out my joy to the world. Am I abnormal?

Kiasu in Kuantan

Dear Kiasu,
Don't worry! The Germans have a word for your condition: schadenfreude. It's
perfectly healthy to affirm your self-worth by contrasting yourself favourably
against folks who've fallen on hard times. Martin Amis wrote a whole novel
called The Information on the subject.

And Gore Vidal once said: "It's not enough that I succeed; my friends have
to fail as well." Look at it this way: If the tables were turned, your so-called friend would
be the one gloating inwardly at you, so live it up!



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Amir,
I'm a writer who's hoping to get published by this influential local firm,
headed by a man named B. At an international gathering of publishers, there
was a thunderous dinner speech given by the head of a much larger foreign
firm (let's call him C).

Well, C made a few sharp criticisms of the way B runs his own firm. I was so
caught up in the excitement of the moment that I spontaneously applauded at
the end of the speech. Silly me! B noticed my gaffe and now I don't think he
will ever publish me. Please help.

Despairing in Dungun

Dear Despairing,
Don't worry! I know a handy way to get back into B's good books. Spend lots
of money printing thousands of leaflets denouncing the temerity of C. Call
him all sorts of names. This will eventually come to the attention of B, who
will be touched by the vehemence of your about-turn and also by the quality
of the leaflet's prose. This combination should be enough to get you a
publishing contract from B's firm. In the meantime, keep your hands in your
pockets!



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Dear Amir,
I am a decent law-abiding citizen who has always believed everything I read
in the mainstream media. But recently I have been troubled by doubts. Could
some of the things I've read recently be a teensy weensy bit biased and
inaccurate? Should I seek solace in the alternative media like Detik, Aliran
and Harakah? And will you hold my hand while I do it?

Timorous in Tampin

Dear Timorous,
Shame on you! There is nothing in the least bit biased or inaccurate about
the mainstream media. The prayer times are redoubtably correct, the weather
forecasts are normally spot-on, and the line-up of TV programmes is almost
always exactly what you will get. So I honestly don't see what you're
whining about. Get a life!




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Amir,
I have for years been one of the most conscientious and accomplished
lecturers in my field, but my university recently fired me. I am convinced
that the motivation has more to do with office politics than anything else.
What do you suggest I do?

Aggrieved in Ampang

Dear Aggrieved,
Your letter reminds me of the fate that befalls Clarice Starling in Thomas
Harris' brand-new novel Hannibal, the sequel to his wildly popular
fright-fest The Silence of the Lambs. Clarice was for years one of the
brightest sparks in the FBI, but this made her colleagues feel jealous.
There ensued a vicious campaign of bodek, back-stabbing and jockeying for
power, which effectively sidelined her. Clarice got back by changing the
rules of the game, thanks to her troubling kinship with the serial killer
Hannibal "the Cannibal" Lecter. I hate to give away the plot, but I suggest
that you read the book to find out what Clarice did to her tormentors. It's
got something to do with gastronomy ...



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Amir,
A few years ago I was hired to judge a poetry contest. I was supposed to be
impartial but I was actualy bribed by some very powerful people; the outcome
was never in doubt. So I would add irrelevant lines to good poems to make
them sound horrible. And I would go out of my way to promote some very
mediocre and dubious efforts. As a result, the wrong person won. No one
created a fuss over this, but my conscience continues to trouble me. Any
suggestions?

Solemn in Sepang

Dear Solemn,
Congratulations! You're lucky enough to live in a society where people don't
give much of a toss. The principles of fair play as embodied in books like
To Kill A Mockingbird, or the tones of moral outrage against corruption as
illustrated in Dante's Inferno, are obviously alien to your surroundings.
Until the people around you change, there's no reason to feel bad. You're
just keeping up with the times.


The Inner Technology of Art: Making Public the Private


by Antares (Kit Leee)

Once in a while it helps to sit back and think about things like Art – and what it actually means to be called or to call someone an Artist. We could think about the earliest evidence of human artistic activity, found before the outbreak of the First World War in southern France: the famous paleolithic cave paintings of Lascaux, more than 30,000 years old, which largely depict the primal mystique of the hunt. The scholar Joseph Campbell, in Primitive Mythology, describes these prehistoric artists as shamans: medicine men and women who worked as intermediaries between the mystical and practical worlds, whose private visions - projected into public ceremony and ritual - could effect profound change in our lives by impinging upon our perceptions.

Then, as now, the shaman-artist served as a visionary of the sacred, a medium connecting the various dimensions, a transducer of spirit into matter and vice versa, a vital link between metaphysical and physical. His ability to merge the inner world of dreams and symbols with the outer world of the hunt made him a healer and a seer, gifted with initiatic and prophetic authority.

Australian aboriginal creation myths speak of archetypal ancestors, closely linked to specific animal lineages, singing the landscape into being as Songlines. The spiritual world is a vibratory essence which can materialize itself by lowering its frequencies. Physical reality is but a shadow of the metaphysical. Interestingly, this idea of earthly existence as a shadow-play is the central metaphor in Plato’s famous Allegory of the Cave, wherein he describes the unawakened consciousness as a prisoner chained in darkness, kept enthralled by an illusory pageant of animated shadows enacted by an invisible priesthood. Precisely the technique employed in the Wayang Kulit tradition, still practised in former colonies of the Majapahit Empire.

The imaginative interplay of light and dark creates all drama – a word associated with dreams and nightmares. From Plato’s Cave to Wayang Kulit to the Magic Lantern and George Lucas’s Industrial Light Magic is a mere progression of technological sophistication. A father amusing his child by creating animated shadows with his hands is drawing on a very ancient artform. These days the same father (especially if his name happens to be George Lucas or Steven Spielberg) would have access to computer-generated digital images which enormously enhance his power to project his imagination to a remote audience of millions. The art of entertaining and enthralling an audience is akin to hypnotism (or to an ancient Javanese magical practice known as pukau, by which means the victim is involuntarily put into a paralytic trance, thereby allowing the practitioner to do as he will as long as the spell lasts).

Disregarding the superficial changes in the technology of art, the primary tool of the artist will always be his imagination. The secondary tool of the artist might be a stick with which to draw figures in the sand, a brush with which to paint, a chisel with which to chip away stone, a flute on which to blow, a lute on which to strum, or a computer with which to sequence an electronic fugue. Technology, after all, is essentially the evolution of tool-making and using. A gripping tale can be told with only an eloquent tongue – or with an extravagant panoply of son et lumière effects. Without the artistic imagination, Creation itself would not exist, nor would the concept of a Creator. We have been told that God made man in his image; the artist intuitively knows that the reverse equally applies.

To imagine is to create an image on the screen of one’s mind – and this act of imagination, when focused through the clear lens of willful intent, is a magical performance which can effect a transformation on all levels. Thus the artist-shaman-magician has always been a source of fascination and fear. His powers of creation and projection make of him a god or demon, depending on his mood and inclination. And indeed, in days of old, the visionary power of the artist-shaman often gave him tremendous influence over his tribe. It was only recently – in the last 13,000 years or so – that brute strength gained ascendancy over mind, and the warrior muscled his way into dominance. The gradual erosion of archetypal pantheons and monarchies has facilitated the rise of the merchant-entrepreneur, whose crude Time-is-Money credo rapidly became the ‘Bottom Line’ over the last few centuries. Commercialism and industrialism now threaten, alas, to turn Art into just another economic activity – and the Artist’s ceremonial and magical rôle into a purely ornamental one. No doubt a certain superstitious awe still attends the artist’s endeavours; but in the Age of Consumerism, the artist-shaman’s contribution to the success of the hunt has been reduced to churning out effective advertising and public relations for the vulgar new gods of materialism - or fashionable new trends for the children of the privileged.


At this juncture, we must examine the complex interactions between the inner and outer self of the artist. Paradoxically, what begins as a unique experience ultimately transforms itself into a universal truth through the exercise of the artistic imagination and will. A personal encounter with grievous loss and emotional distress, for example, can be transmuted into art – in the form of a novel or a symphony or a painting or sculpture - and thereby shared with society at large. The skillful selection of linguistic, visual, auditory, olfactory or tactile symbols that will compress a complex experience into communicable or transferable form is what constitutes the inner technology of art.

The word technology itself derives from technique – which may be classified as “hardware and software” in modern parlance. Tools are hardware and, as such, are utterly useless unless one is also equipped with the necessary knowhow, the software. A simple case in point can be seen in the evolution of writing utensils - from chisel or quill or brush to chalk or crayon or ink pen; from manual to electric typewriter, to electronic word processor – all in the course of a mere 6,000 years.

And yet, the use of a high-powered computer does not provide any creative edge over the use of a goose quill. Would Shakespeare or Mozart, for instance, have done more inspired work if they had had access to “better” tools? Indeed the sonnets and plays of Shakespeare have survived the centuries better written in ink on parchment than they would have as digital code on floppy disks – just as Mozart’s masterpieces have better lasted the centuries on paper than they would have on acetate.

Perhaps a digression is in order here: when politicians speak of “Smart Schools” they invariably have an image of students being plugged into a network of expensive computers. The big budgets are reserved for the acquisition of high-tech hardware rather than human software (in terms of dedicated and conscientious and innovative educators). This is a classic case of putting the cart before the horse, of valuing packaging above content, of worshipping form instead of spirit, of putting style above substance.

The unfortunate fact is that, in the last 500 years, businessmen and bureaucrats have quietly forged themselves into a freemasonry of secular authority – wresting control of human destiny from the sacred visionaries, the healers and the seers, the artists and philosophers. No one can stop the pragmatic businessman or bureaucrat from having visions – but it is almost inevitable that their pragmatic visions would tend towards the ridiculous rather than the sublime, the crude rather than the subtle, the ugly rather than the aesthetic. Instead of making public the private, their basic instinct is to make private the public, thus spawning an atmosphere of hypocrisy and secrecy conducive to criminal conspiracy rather than creating the climate of openness and trust necessary to greater social cohesion.

This is the great quandary in which the modern world finds itself. Industrial society’s pursuit of Quantity has blinded it to Quality; the entrepreneur-merchant’s quest for and obeisance to the “lowest common denominator” makes him favour the numerous above the numinous, the secular above the sacred. Democracy is misconstrued as being allowed to choose from a wide range of political candidates or consumer products. The ancient nobility has been rudely supplanted by a clamorous cadre of status-seekers who have no qualms about using ignoble means to achieve their myopic ends. A newly ascended plutocracy of soulless materialism appears to have usurped the traditional aristocracy of spiritual values.

Perhaps this was an inevitable development. The artist-shaman is acutely individualistic and on the human level is more prone to ruinous competitiveness than any athlete or warrior. Could it be that the golden age when art and philosophy reigned triumphant abruptly ended when artists and philosophers became too isolated in their ivory towers and lost direct contact with the grassroots? Is that why there has been a pronounced swing towards community arts as a new context in which the artist can once again feel connected with his or her tribe? Contributing positively towards greater cohesion and healing is possibly the most creative option available to the artist-shaman at this point in evolution.

As human consciousness becomes more engrossed with density, darkness and discontent, the urge to destroy grows more compelling than the urge to create. Hindu mythology offers us a helpful metaphor by postulating the archetypal trinity of Creator-Destroyer-and-Preserver – Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu. The dynamic principle of 3 defines many processes, even in the atomic world of nuclei, electrons and protons. The eternal quest for truth is ultimately three-pronged: Science represents the left brain, Art the right brain, and Spirituality the heart. Only a creative convergence of all three prongs can lead us to self-mastery and wisdom. In the biological world the trinity of Mother, Father and Child underlies all life cycles. What the Mother creates, the Father destroys, and the Child preserves – even as we emerge from the past into the present, and project ourselves into the future.

The conclusion we may draw from this is that our greatest hope now resides in the upcoming generation: whether it has the ability and agility to avoid growing up like the corrupt and morally bankrupt Father and propel itself an octave higher in aesthetical and ethical awareness, attaining the mystical baraka or Heaven’s Grace - and regaining thereby the artistic key to a new paradigm of paradise on earth.




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posted by CoolSoulSmith a.k.a Rinci|ak

---------------------------

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