Music in my head: Fovea Hex- Neither Speak Nor Remain Silent
Today's weather: Artificially warmed.
This is where things stand, at the moment.
I'm going to rewatch Avatar tomorrow morning. I didn't have enough the first time. When I go back to college, I'm sure someone will have downloaded the BluRay Rip (Internet Cops, it wasn't me) and I'll watch it over and over again.
I'm listening to Steven Wilson's top 50 albums, on a euphoric post PT high (click here for the list) and there's a lot of interesting stuff in there- and I'm particularly enjoying the brand of minimalist music- drone, doom etc. that he's recommended. Thanks SW.
I watched 3 Idiots a couple of days back, and enjoyed it. It's almost nothing like 5 point someone, but I liked it all the same. I could point out a million inconsistencies, but I am not a cynic, so all of you go and watch the movie (I'll be waiting for my cheque, Mr. Chopra).
And I am wrapped up in bed as I am every winter, watching Battlestar Galactica, Monty Python's Flying Circus, The Simpsons, and whatever is on TV. I'm also reading a lot- the low point being Dan Brown's new book, which was stereotypical conspiracy theory, with the worst anti-climax yet, and that includes the ending to Angels and Demons. I read a few Robin Cook books- average, and re-read Shantaram, enjoyable as always.
End of transmission.
December 29, 2009
December 28, 2009
2012
Music in my head: Camel- Chord Change
Today's weather: Uber-cool.
2012, we all fall down. Prophesies of everything from worldwide tidal waves and mass genocide to the earth flipping over and Santa in shorts indicate 2012 as a turning point in the history of mankind. Whatever they’re calling it, Apocalypse, Armageddon, Judgment Day, Rapture, it’s about as probable as the proverbial squeezing of toothpaste back into its tube. For the anti-skeptics who steadfastly hold on to the pearls of wisdom from the Mayans, Sumerians and 1930s Sci-fi authors (it is ridiculous that I have to even write this) there is irrefutable historical and scientific proof to the contrary.
Theories supporting the 2012 apocalypse are six of one and half a dozen, and they are based on several old-school Greco-roman prophesies and pseudo-scientific speculation on endless internet forums. A simple google search will show that the most talked about of these theories are the Mayan doomsday calendar and the Sumerian Planet-X or Nibiru. Internet folklore has it that the Mayan Calendar will complete its 5125 year long cycle on 21st December, 2012 bringing the world to an end. How? Well, this is answered by the Sumerian prophecy of a mysterious Planet-X, or Nibiru, that either collides with earth or passes close enough to cause calamitous gravitational effects such as tidal waves and earthquakes. Apocalypse was predicted to be as early as 1792, revised subsequently to 1844, 1918, 1925, 1941, 1975, 1984, 1988, 1994, 2000, 2003, 2005 and now 2012 by persons and groups ranging from Nostradamus to the Seventh Day Adventists. All the forums are, of course, silent as to where they got this information from- simply because they are all made up. A group of internet junkies are probably guzzling beer this very moment, marveling their own ingenuity at having created the latest internet fad.
The Mayans and the Sunmerians have given a lot to modern humanity- the Sumer pioneered agriculture and irrigation, but their knowledge of astronomy was limited to predicting sunrise and sunset. But people continue to discuss it at forums that make millions, and make movies that, surprise surprise, make millions. The quintessential human appetite for conspiracy theories, a fear of the great unknown, cosmophobia, today’s internet boom, and a chance to escape from the banality of everyday life are what fuel this fire. If you are reading this, especially all the people who have packed their bags and waiting to get vaporized in 2012, I regret to inform you that a black cat will cross your path in three hours and four minutes, and your car will breakdown during rush hour, which will result in deafness by honking horns. Let’s see if they start a forum for that.
Today's weather: Uber-cool.
2012, we all fall down. Prophesies of everything from worldwide tidal waves and mass genocide to the earth flipping over and Santa in shorts indicate 2012 as a turning point in the history of mankind. Whatever they’re calling it, Apocalypse, Armageddon, Judgment Day, Rapture, it’s about as probable as the proverbial squeezing of toothpaste back into its tube. For the anti-skeptics who steadfastly hold on to the pearls of wisdom from the Mayans, Sumerians and 1930s Sci-fi authors (it is ridiculous that I have to even write this) there is irrefutable historical and scientific proof to the contrary.
Theories supporting the 2012 apocalypse are six of one and half a dozen, and they are based on several old-school Greco-roman prophesies and pseudo-scientific speculation on endless internet forums. A simple google search will show that the most talked about of these theories are the Mayan doomsday calendar and the Sumerian Planet-X or Nibiru. Internet folklore has it that the Mayan Calendar will complete its 5125 year long cycle on 21st December, 2012 bringing the world to an end. How? Well, this is answered by the Sumerian prophecy of a mysterious Planet-X, or Nibiru, that either collides with earth or passes close enough to cause calamitous gravitational effects such as tidal waves and earthquakes. Apocalypse was predicted to be as early as 1792, revised subsequently to 1844, 1918, 1925, 1941, 1975, 1984, 1988, 1994, 2000, 2003, 2005 and now 2012 by persons and groups ranging from Nostradamus to the Seventh Day Adventists. All the forums are, of course, silent as to where they got this information from- simply because they are all made up. A group of internet junkies are probably guzzling beer this very moment, marveling their own ingenuity at having created the latest internet fad.
The Mayans and the Sunmerians have given a lot to modern humanity- the Sumer pioneered agriculture and irrigation, but their knowledge of astronomy was limited to predicting sunrise and sunset. But people continue to discuss it at forums that make millions, and make movies that, surprise surprise, make millions. The quintessential human appetite for conspiracy theories, a fear of the great unknown, cosmophobia, today’s internet boom, and a chance to escape from the banality of everyday life are what fuel this fire. If you are reading this, especially all the people who have packed their bags and waiting to get vaporized in 2012, I regret to inform you that a black cat will cross your path in three hours and four minutes, and your car will breakdown during rush hour, which will result in deafness by honking horns. Let’s see if they start a forum for that.
December 23, 2009
The Porcupine Tree Experience
Music in my head: The Porcupine Tree Setlist @ Mood-i
Today's weather: Chilly.
We were there.
We booked our tickets online for a pittance.
We waited in queue for two hours listening to a group of dumb-girl-stereotypes going "Oh my Gaawwd! I can't believe she's not into P-Tree". We tried not to think of the obvious phallic reference.
We waited. We got hair-gel samples from Gatsby. We watched people play human snakes and ladders for Durex jeans.
We listened to the MoneyBrother soundcheck.
And then, we heard him for the first time- a lone, unaccompanied voice, a-capella-ing "Way out of here". We didn't believe at first that it could be him. We thought it was probably some IIT pricks goofing around. Until we heard the first of the riffs from "Blind House".
We got carried by our feet and ours ears to the source of the sound. We found barricades, we strained to look over, under and through them. We climbed up to the top of the Swimming Pool wall.
We finally saw them. Steven Wilson on an acoustic guitar, singing "Time Flies". We craned our necks to absorb the whole scene. The other musicians waited for their cue. "...and the best thing that you can do, is take whatever comes to you, 'cause time flies...".
We cheered on throughout the song. We saw Gavin Harrison thumping away purposefully on his enormous drum-set. We saw Richard Barbieri hiding behind his shades as always, working five sets of keys. We saw John Wesley and heard his crooning voice as he backed up Stevie W. We saw Colin Edwin, playing effortlessly, with his usual spaced-out smile.
And then, they played "Open Car".
The small crowd atop the swimming pool erupted, threatening to bring down the wall. We sang along, we banged our heads, and we finally stopped. It was over.
The instruments were covered with black cloth. Soundchek was over.
We returned, for a while to Burgers and Dew and Gatsby, and then walked over just as the queue for entry to the OAT was being formed. We were lucky. In ten minutes, we looked behind us and saw the longest queue we had ever seen in our lives.
We waited- one hour, then two, and finally we the line started crawling forward ever so slowly. We watched as a group of people trying to jump the queue being met with a thick bamboo in the rear from a security guard.
People with iPods were thrown out of the line, somewhat appropriately, what with Steven Wilson's iPod breaking campaign. We moved forward, and half an hour behind schedule, we were finally in.
We listened, very superficially, to the last of the Semi-Pro finalists. Then Parikrama, the opening act, came on stage. They were average, and full of themselves. They sang two lame-ass songs which they claimed was inspired by Lord of the Rings. Peter Jackson would've murdered them. Their violinist was holding the act together, and their egos were badly hurt when they were bc-mc-ed in between songs. Their response was weak and baseless, with some crap about psychology. Their final song seemed never-ending, and the crowd erupted in a cheer of relief when they left the stage. They must've assumed that we liked them. If you're reading this, Parikrama, you're a good band, but you sucked yeterday.
Finally, the stage was prepared for Porcupine Tree by their technicians. Some annoying ads were played on the big screen as this was being done, which met with curses from the crowd, much like the Nokia incident during the Opeth concert at Chennai. (click here and here for more info)
And then, the wait was over.
Steven Wilson and co. exploded into the powerful riff of "Occam's Razor" and continued on to "Blind house". We expected them to play the whole of "The Incident", but we were in for a surprise as a hearty "Namaste India!" from SW was followed by, would you believe it, "Sound of Muzak". It was executed flawlessly, with the crowd joining in for the chorus. If that wasn't good enough, "Hatesong" followed, and it was amazing, right from the baseline to SW's weird solo, to the little drum innovations from Harrison. We then re-heard "Open Car". It was better than before. We were delirious.
And if this was delirium, what followed was, I don't know, madness, perhaps. Arguably their most popular song, "Lazarus" brought even those dumasses who had their asses parked for the first two songs to their feet. We waved our back-lit cellphones in appreciation. And six minutes later, we started banging our heads to the explosive intro to "Blackest Eyes".
Masterpieces followed one after the other, with "The Start of Something Beautiful", the first half of "Russia on Ice" and the second half of "Anesthetize".
This was followed by "Time Flies". It started as perfectly as the rest of the gig so far, but in the middle, the unthinkable happened. The drums and keys lost power for a few seconds, and the visuals went blank. But the true professionals that they were, they recovered in less than a couple of seconds to end in style. A couple of more songs from the incident followed with "Octane Twisted", "The Seance", and "Circle of Manias".
What followed was probably the high point of the concert. "Way Out of Here" combined perfect vocals, guitars, drums, bass- the usual, with visuals that can't be adequately described with the word stunning.
They bowed out after this, and some of the aforementioned dumasses started to walk out, thinking the concert was over. Sure as hell, they were left feeling stupid as the band returned for an encore, and what an encore it was.
It started with "Trains". It was brilliant. The solo, the clapping, it was the stuff of dreams.
And then the finale. The best for the last.
"You can be right like me, with God in a hole, you're a righteous soul,
I've got a Halo 'round me, I've got a Halo 'round me...
'Cause I've got a Halo 'round my head.
Thank you India!"
And then, they were gone.
Now, we say, suffused with pride and joy and disbelief, that, yes, we were there, on the night of the 21st of December 2009, a night which we will remember as (as quoted by the Parikrama frontman, one of the few things he said that actually made sense) Porcupine Tree Night for the rest of our lives.
Bully for the dumasses who weren't there.
Today's weather: Chilly.
We were there.
We booked our tickets online for a pittance.
We waited in queue for two hours listening to a group of dumb-girl-stereotypes going "Oh my Gaawwd! I can't believe she's not into P-Tree". We tried not to think of the obvious phallic reference.
We waited. We got hair-gel samples from Gatsby. We watched people play human snakes and ladders for Durex jeans.
We listened to the MoneyBrother soundcheck.
And then, we heard him for the first time- a lone, unaccompanied voice, a-capella-ing "Way out of here". We didn't believe at first that it could be him. We thought it was probably some IIT pricks goofing around. Until we heard the first of the riffs from "Blind House".
We got carried by our feet and ours ears to the source of the sound. We found barricades, we strained to look over, under and through them. We climbed up to the top of the Swimming Pool wall.
We finally saw them. Steven Wilson on an acoustic guitar, singing "Time Flies". We craned our necks to absorb the whole scene. The other musicians waited for their cue. "...and the best thing that you can do, is take whatever comes to you, 'cause time flies...".
We cheered on throughout the song. We saw Gavin Harrison thumping away purposefully on his enormous drum-set. We saw Richard Barbieri hiding behind his shades as always, working five sets of keys. We saw John Wesley and heard his crooning voice as he backed up Stevie W. We saw Colin Edwin, playing effortlessly, with his usual spaced-out smile.
And then, they played "Open Car".
The small crowd atop the swimming pool erupted, threatening to bring down the wall. We sang along, we banged our heads, and we finally stopped. It was over.
The instruments were covered with black cloth. Soundchek was over.
We returned, for a while to Burgers and Dew and Gatsby, and then walked over just as the queue for entry to the OAT was being formed. We were lucky. In ten minutes, we looked behind us and saw the longest queue we had ever seen in our lives.
We waited- one hour, then two, and finally we the line started crawling forward ever so slowly. We watched as a group of people trying to jump the queue being met with a thick bamboo in the rear from a security guard.
People with iPods were thrown out of the line, somewhat appropriately, what with Steven Wilson's iPod breaking campaign. We moved forward, and half an hour behind schedule, we were finally in.
We listened, very superficially, to the last of the Semi-Pro finalists. Then Parikrama, the opening act, came on stage. They were average, and full of themselves. They sang two lame-ass songs which they claimed was inspired by Lord of the Rings. Peter Jackson would've murdered them. Their violinist was holding the act together, and their egos were badly hurt when they were bc-mc-ed in between songs. Their response was weak and baseless, with some crap about psychology. Their final song seemed never-ending, and the crowd erupted in a cheer of relief when they left the stage. They must've assumed that we liked them. If you're reading this, Parikrama, you're a good band, but you sucked yeterday.
Finally, the stage was prepared for Porcupine Tree by their technicians. Some annoying ads were played on the big screen as this was being done, which met with curses from the crowd, much like the Nokia incident during the Opeth concert at Chennai. (click here and here for more info)
And then, the wait was over.
Steven Wilson and co. exploded into the powerful riff of "Occam's Razor" and continued on to "Blind house". We expected them to play the whole of "The Incident", but we were in for a surprise as a hearty "Namaste India!" from SW was followed by, would you believe it, "Sound of Muzak". It was executed flawlessly, with the crowd joining in for the chorus. If that wasn't good enough, "Hatesong" followed, and it was amazing, right from the baseline to SW's weird solo, to the little drum innovations from Harrison. We then re-heard "Open Car". It was better than before. We were delirious.
And if this was delirium, what followed was, I don't know, madness, perhaps. Arguably their most popular song, "Lazarus" brought even those dumasses who had their asses parked for the first two songs to their feet. We waved our back-lit cellphones in appreciation. And six minutes later, we started banging our heads to the explosive intro to "Blackest Eyes".
Masterpieces followed one after the other, with "The Start of Something Beautiful", the first half of "Russia on Ice" and the second half of "Anesthetize".
This was followed by "Time Flies". It started as perfectly as the rest of the gig so far, but in the middle, the unthinkable happened. The drums and keys lost power for a few seconds, and the visuals went blank. But the true professionals that they were, they recovered in less than a couple of seconds to end in style. A couple of more songs from the incident followed with "Octane Twisted", "The Seance", and "Circle of Manias".
What followed was probably the high point of the concert. "Way Out of Here" combined perfect vocals, guitars, drums, bass- the usual, with visuals that can't be adequately described with the word stunning.
They bowed out after this, and some of the aforementioned dumasses started to walk out, thinking the concert was over. Sure as hell, they were left feeling stupid as the band returned for an encore, and what an encore it was.
It started with "Trains". It was brilliant. The solo, the clapping, it was the stuff of dreams.
And then the finale. The best for the last.
"You can be right like me, with God in a hole, you're a righteous soul,
I've got a Halo 'round me, I've got a Halo 'round me...
'Cause I've got a Halo 'round my head.
Thank you India!"
And then, they were gone.
Now, we say, suffused with pride and joy and disbelief, that, yes, we were there, on the night of the 21st of December 2009, a night which we will remember as (as quoted by the Parikrama frontman, one of the few things he said that actually made sense) Porcupine Tree Night for the rest of our lives.
Bully for the dumasses who weren't there.
December 14, 2009
Frak!
Music in my head: Änglagård- Jordrok
Today's weather: Dilli ki sardi.
Hunted by intelligent cybernetic life forms,
Season after season, we frak, we run.
You look at us, you think we’re sweet,
Hear you me, it’s not much fun.
You sit there on your frakking rear,
You glut, you sleep, you glut again.
All this while we run and run,
In sunshine and in frakking rain.
Sometimes we fight, sometimes we die,
Sometimes we love, hope, betray, fall.
And you losers think we’re real,
Dumasses you are, so say we all.
An hour a day you stare at us,
As we fly and shoot and frak around.
We’re in your soapy fantasies,
Succulent, nubile, pinned to the ground.
Frak! You morons, open your eyes.
The world’s not twenty inches wide.
Breathe some unconditioned air,
Or just stick a knife in your side.
P.S. : The above is based on a true story.
P.P.S. : I love Battlestar Galactica. It's the best show ever, so say we all.
Today's weather: Dilli ki sardi.
Hunted by intelligent cybernetic life forms,
Season after season, we frak, we run.
You look at us, you think we’re sweet,
Hear you me, it’s not much fun.
You sit there on your frakking rear,
You glut, you sleep, you glut again.
All this while we run and run,
In sunshine and in frakking rain.
Sometimes we fight, sometimes we die,
Sometimes we love, hope, betray, fall.
And you losers think we’re real,
Dumasses you are, so say we all.
An hour a day you stare at us,
As we fly and shoot and frak around.
We’re in your soapy fantasies,
Succulent, nubile, pinned to the ground.
Frak! You morons, open your eyes.
The world’s not twenty inches wide.
Breathe some unconditioned air,
Or just stick a knife in your side.
P.S. : The above is based on a true story.
P.P.S. : I love Battlestar Galactica. It's the best show ever, so say we all.
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