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Showing posts with label questions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label questions. Show all posts

Friday, 21 December 2012

Is there only one road to revolution?

Read this first.

mk


Some of this connects, some of it doesn't. Most of all, I have discovered a fear in me that keeps me from from disagreeing with people like Meena Kandasamy - great orators, no doubt, but what are they really capable of?

The piece speaks of revolution as being the sole goal of an Indian youth's life, that we must spend our lives stirring the muddied water, exposing the mud to light, and separating grime from guts and guts from guts from glory. This is where I disagree. Revolution is not my cause. I don't want to stir the muddied water. I concede that I am afraid that I will fail.

And at this point, Meena Kandasamy would have me believe, I should either crawl back into my liberty-encrusted shell or lay down my life. Why should I when I know I will succeed in keeping aspirations alive? Why should I when, given the freedom to aspire, I can teach others how to go about believing the same? Why should I when I can just pour in more and more clean water and render the mud a minority?

Why is this never an option? Have we reached a head, that it's either a corruption-free world or a bloodied one? India desperately needs a revolution, yes, but not one that welcomes a man liberated after pained struggles to a joyless world.

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Das Opfer des schwarzen Blutes

Denken Sie nicht über die Wahrheit, mein Kind,
Die Dunkelheit ist notwendig für unsere Augen!
Wo sind wir zu gehen, wenn wir nicht wissen, Krieg?
Wo können wir gehen, wenn es keine Straßen?


Lass dich nicht von den Geräuschen, Kind, Angst
Halten Sie alle Ihre Ängste auslaufen
In den Frauen, die Träume haben für Kinder,
In die Herzen der Unwissenden und Ohren.


Hurt sich selbst und lassen den Blutfluss, Kind,
Weil sie werden für immer die dummen Affen!
Die Wissenschaften sind Sie wissen Geheimnisse
Welche von ihren kleinen Herzen verschwinden!


Leg deinen Kopf auf meinen Schoß und weinen, Kind,
Damit die Menschen können niemals lernen,
Von Ihrem Opfer, das notwendig ist für die Zukunft,
Die Lehren, die Sie für heute abend sterben müssen!


*


Translation


The sacrifice of black blood


Do not think about the truth, my child,
The darkness is necessary for our eyes!
Where do we go when we know not war?
Where can we go if there are no roads?


Do not fear the noise, child,
Leave behind all your fears
For women who have dreams for children,
To spill into the hearts of the ignorant and ears.


Hurt yourself and let the blood flow, child,
Because they will forever be the silly monkeys!
The science you now know are the secrets
Which must disappear from their little hearts!


Lay your head on my lap and cry, child,
So that people may never learn
From your sacrifice, that is necessary for the future,
The lessons that you have to die for tonight!

Das Opfer des schwarzen Blutes

Denken Sie nicht über die Wahrheit, mein Kind,
Die Dunkelheit ist notwendig für unsere Augen!
Wo sind wir zu gehen, wenn wir nicht wissen, Krieg?
Wo können wir gehen, wenn es keine Straßen?


Lass dich nicht von den Geräuschen, Kind, Angst
Halten Sie alle Ihre Ängste auslaufen
In den Frauen, die Träume haben für Kinder,
In die Herzen der Unwissenden und Ohren.


Hurt sich selbst und lassen den Blutfluss, Kind,
Weil sie werden für immer die dummen Affen!
Die Wissenschaften sind Sie wissen Geheimnisse
Welche von ihren kleinen Herzen verschwinden!


Leg deinen Kopf auf meinen Schoß und weinen, Kind,
Damit die Menschen können niemals lernen,
Von Ihrem Opfer, das notwendig ist für die Zukunft,
Die Lehren, die Sie für heute abend sterben müssen!


*


Translation


The sacrifice of black blood


Do not think about the truth, my child,
The darkness is necessary for our eyes!
Where do we go when we know not war?
Where can we go if there are no roads?


Do not fear the noise, child,
Leave behind all your fears
For women who have dreams for children,
To spill into the hearts of the ignorant and ears.


Hurt yourself and let the blood flow, child,
Because they will forever be the silly monkeys!
The science you now know are the secrets
Which must disappear from their little hearts!


Lay your head on my lap and cry, child,
So that people may never learn
From your sacrifice, that is necessary for the future,
The lessons that you have to die for tonight!

Friday, 6 May 2011

A tale of an editor

Sometimes, the best way to write is neither with prosaic structure nor with the free-flowing lucidity of poetry but in a way as to conspicuously avoid either of them.

Either form has its demands; prose famously requires the content to be specific, or it doesn't read well, whereas poetry that is long sentences broken down with periods reads like it has been forced. Apparently, volition matters.

If I were to grade the degree to which ideas have been presented cogently in either format, prose would score a 10 and poetry would score a 1. You get the picture.

However, the issue arises when the writer notices that either form of scripture (non-theologically speaking) requires the cogency-grades to be uniform within the piece. When a piece of poetry becomes suddenly specific or when a piece of prose becomes suddenly abstract, and then gives way to a change of ideological concentration, it feels as if the writer him/herself does not have a clear picture of the message being conveyed.

It's only a surprise that so many writers have not embraced the free-flowing style of writing that does not make any such demands as cogency and "the big picture", among other things, because then it means that they know what they're writing about.

However, when writing as if playing a text-based RPG, writing in my opinion transcends the form of being a tool of conveyance to being a lens through which the reader is able to view the writer's thought process. That way, the dialogue is more personal and concentric.

Most of the time, I don't know what am writing. I put pen-to-paper - or the more likely fingers-to-keyboard - and keep writing until I think I might be saying something. When I think I've put down the decisive punch-line, I scroll back to the beginning of the piece and begin editing.

Essentially, it is a detestation of editing. Editing is the formalized sleeve of commercialism that cloaks literary expression. With editing, periods, commas and, regrettably, apostrophes become really important quickly (there's the regret because of the Marxism question). I think they're really rather necessary, like in this piece.

Even so, I'm using it because I know the role they play in the expressionist form of things: I use them because I know what really the apostrophe does, what really the comma can do, and what the period never did. Such an understanding of things, I think, must be internalized at fundamental and essentially pedagogic levels.

When a piece is edited and then published - in a newspaper or in a blog - it reads as if the interaction is being actively limited to the content matter. However, I like it all delimited. Like in this piece.

Like in this piece, indeed.

*


Looks I've delivered the decisive punch-line. Now to get down to some editing.

*


Sometimes, the best way to write is neither with prosaic structure nor the free-flowing lucidity of poetry but in a way as to conspicuously avoid either of them. Either form has its demands; prose famously requires the content to be specific, or it doesn't read well, whereas poetry that is long sentences broken down with periods reads like it has been forced. Apparently, volition matters. If I were to grade the degree to which ideas have been presently cogently in either format, prose would score a 10 and poetry would score a 1. You get the picture.

However, the issue arises when the writer notices that either form of scripture (non-theologically speaking) requires the cogency-grades to be uniform within the piece. When a piece of poetry becomes suddenly specific or when a piece of prose becomes suddenly abstract, and then gives way to a change of ideological concentration, it feels as if the writer him/herself does not have a clear picture of the message being conveyed.

It's only a surprise that so many writers have not embraced the free-flowing style of writing that does not make any such demands as cogency and "the big picture", among other things, because then it means that they know what they're writing about. However, when writing as if playing a text-based RPG, writing in my opinion transcends the form of being a tool of conveyance to being a lens through which the reader is able to view the writer's thought process. That way, the dialogue is more personal and concentric.

Most of the time, I don't know what am writing. I put pen-to-paper – or the more likely fingers-to-keyboard – and keep writing until I think I might be saying something. When I think I've put down the decisive punch-line, I scroll back to the beginning of the piece and begin editing. Essentially, it is a detestation of editing. Editing is the formalized sleeve of commercialism that cloaks literary expression. With editing, periods, commas and, regrettably, apostrophes become really important quickly (there's the regret because of the Marxism question). I think they're really rather necessary. Even so, I'm using it because I know the role they play in the expressionist form of things: I use them because I know what really the apostrophe does, what really the comma can do, and what the period never did. Such an understanding of things, I think, must be internalized at fundamental and essentially pedagogic levels. When a piece is edited and then published - in a newspaper or in a blog - it reads as if the interaction is being actively limited to the content matter. However, I like it all delimited.

Apparently, volition not only matters but also shows.

*


That was simple. Only had to remove the "Like in this piece" bits and group the sentences.

*


What, haven't you met a hypocrite before?

A tale of an editor

Sometimes, the best way to write is neither with prosaic structure nor with the free-flowing lucidity of poetry but in a way as to conspicuously avoid either of them.

Either form has its demands; prose famously requires the content to be specific, or it doesn't read well, whereas poetry that is long sentences broken down with periods reads like it has been forced. Apparently, volition matters.

If I were to grade the degree to which ideas have been presented cogently in either format, prose would score a 10 and poetry would score a 1. You get the picture.

However, the issue arises when the writer notices that either form of scripture (non-theologically speaking) requires the cogency-grades to be uniform within the piece. When a piece of poetry becomes suddenly specific or when a piece of prose becomes suddenly abstract, and then gives way to a change of ideological concentration, it feels as if the writer him/herself does not have a clear picture of the message being conveyed.

It's only a surprise that so many writers have not embraced the free-flowing style of writing that does not make any such demands as cogency and "the big picture", among other things, because then it means that they know what they're writing about.

However, when writing as if playing a text-based RPG, writing in my opinion transcends the form of being a tool of conveyance to being a lens through which the reader is able to view the writer's thought process. That way, the dialogue is more personal and concentric.

Most of the time, I don't know what am writing. I put pen-to-paper - or the more likely fingers-to-keyboard - and keep writing until I think I might be saying something. When I think I've put down the decisive punch-line, I scroll back to the beginning of the piece and begin editing.

Essentially, it is a detestation of editing. Editing is the formalized sleeve of commercialism that cloaks literary expression. With editing, periods, commas and, regrettably, apostrophes become really important quickly (there's the regret because of the Marxism question). I think they're really rather necessary, like in this piece.

Even so, I'm using it because I know the role they play in the expressionist form of things: I use them because I know what really the apostrophe does, what really the comma can do, and what the period never did. Such an understanding of things, I think, must be internalized at fundamental and essentially pedagogic levels.

When a piece is edited and then published - in a newspaper or in a blog - it reads as if the interaction is being actively limited to the content matter. However, I like it all delimited. Like in this piece.

Like in this piece, indeed.

*


Looks I've delivered the decisive punch-line. Now to get down to some editing.

*


Sometimes, the best way to write is neither with prosaic structure nor the free-flowing lucidity of poetry but in a way as to conspicuously avoid either of them. Either form has its demands; prose famously requires the content to be specific, or it doesn't read well, whereas poetry that is long sentences broken down with periods reads like it has been forced. Apparently, volition matters. If I were to grade the degree to which ideas have been presently cogently in either format, prose would score a 10 and poetry would score a 1. You get the picture.

However, the issue arises when the writer notices that either form of scripture (non-theologically speaking) requires the cogency-grades to be uniform within the piece. When a piece of poetry becomes suddenly specific or when a piece of prose becomes suddenly abstract, and then gives way to a change of ideological concentration, it feels as if the writer him/herself does not have a clear picture of the message being conveyed.

It's only a surprise that so many writers have not embraced the free-flowing style of writing that does not make any such demands as cogency and "the big picture", among other things, because then it means that they know what they're writing about. However, when writing as if playing a text-based RPG, writing in my opinion transcends the form of being a tool of conveyance to being a lens through which the reader is able to view the writer's thought process. That way, the dialogue is more personal and concentric.

Most of the time, I don't know what am writing. I put pen-to-paper – or the more likely fingers-to-keyboard – and keep writing until I think I might be saying something. When I think I've put down the decisive punch-line, I scroll back to the beginning of the piece and begin editing. Essentially, it is a detestation of editing. Editing is the formalized sleeve of commercialism that cloaks literary expression. With editing, periods, commas and, regrettably, apostrophes become really important quickly (there's the regret because of the Marxism question). I think they're really rather necessary. Even so, I'm using it because I know the role they play in the expressionist form of things: I use them because I know what really the apostrophe does, what really the comma can do, and what the period never did. Such an understanding of things, I think, must be internalized at fundamental and essentially pedagogic levels. When a piece is edited and then published - in a newspaper or in a blog - it reads as if the interaction is being actively limited to the content matter. However, I like it all delimited.

Apparently, volition not only matters but also shows.

*


That was simple. Only had to remove the "Like in this piece" bits and group the sentences.

*


What, haven't you met a hypocrite before?