Wednesday, October 29, 2003

Dream/Stories

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The most enjoyable writing experience I have ever had was when I began writing short stories for a while, when I was in my early 20s. Those strange dream-like stories mostly came to me at nights when I was asleep. I used to visualize them first in my dreams. Then if I could remember them after waking up, I wrote them down before I forget them. This should happen in darkness for two reason: first I didn’t have time for turning on the light —since I could forget them in any moment, and secondly turning the light on could ruin the dream-like images I had in mind and consequently ruining the dream-like feeling for transforming those images into the right words.
The funny part was the next morning, when I had to decipher what I had written and remember what I have meant by those words.

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Painting:
The Dream, 1910. By Henri Rousseau.

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

Reality

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Reality is the strangest concept invented by human beings.

Sunday, October 26, 2003

Angelus Novus

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Mein Flügel ist zum Schwung bereit,
ich kehrte gern zurück,
denn blieb ich auch lebendige Zeit,
ich hätte wenig Glück.

[My wing is ready for flight,  
I would like to turn back. If I stayed timeless time, 
I would have little luck.]
 
-- Gerherd Scholem, ‘Gruss vom Angelus’

 
A Klee painting named ‘Angelus Novus’ shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing in from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such a violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.
-- Walter Benjamin, 'Theses on the Philosophy of History'

Thursday, October 09, 2003

Romantic Love

A few days ago I had a conversation with a Japanese friend about the Japanese culture and the way Japanese have adapted the Western culture. She said something that was very odd to me: according to her there hasn't been any concept of "romantic love" in Japan before knowing the Western culture.

Wow! This means even a simple thing like romantic love -that we think is so embedded in our soul- is a behavior that we learn. It means there is nothing instinctive about it. We just make ourselves "to beleive" in that kind of love.

Tuesday, October 07, 2003

The Recall

Total Recall

What do the results of the Recall say about the Democracy in America?
The results say a millionaire can spend a couple of million dollars for removing an elected governor, and with the help of a propaganda machine, mostly known as the "free" media, replace him with someone who doesn't know anything about anything (other than making his muscles bigger,) and puts him in charge of the fifth economy of the world.

De Tocqueville should wake up and write another book.