Monday 16 February 2009
So Friends
Basic question: Which is a better thing to do with a person you don't care about being friends with: 1. Ignore them, try and avoid situations when you have to see them etc or 2. tell them that you just don't want to be friends with them?
The thing is that I am swaying more towards the second one. There are some people that I have no real contact with and therefore am beyond calling them friends, but there are some that I just don't care about any more, nothing bad has happened, I just don't care, cannot be bothered and don't have energy.
I have no answers but sometimes I think that life for all of us would be easier if we were sometimes more honest.
The thing is that I am swaying more towards the second one. There are some people that I have no real contact with and therefore am beyond calling them friends, but there are some that I just don't care about any more, nothing bad has happened, I just don't care, cannot be bothered and don't have energy.
I have no answers but sometimes I think that life for all of us would be easier if we were sometimes more honest.
Sharpie in my hand:
If you walk through the garden, you better watch your back....
The dictionary definition of poetry is (according to dictionary.com at least) is :
"the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative, or elevated thoughts." But what exactly is poetry?
It seems at the moment I am going from story to story. Whether is it watching the first hour of Day Watch on DVD, reading Stephen Fry's America, playing the first ten minutes of Need For Speed Undercover; Prince of Persia; Tomb Raider Underworld; or Shaun White; or significantly watching The Wire seasons 3 and 4. But which, of any of these are poetry? Each of them excite, or at least engage for some time, each use the imagination, but only one elevates....
Basically this entry is about The Wire. For those that have not seen, or heard of it, it is a now complete TV series which aired on HBO in the states and from what I know, cable channels over here. I think I had heard about it a couple of years ago by name but didn't know anything more. Then recently (I think because the final season came out on DVD finally) it started to seep more and more into my consciousness. It seems that the writers for the Guardian website started writing about how it was great, from essays on its themes to sports writers referring to second division football players as Jimmy McNaulty (the main character). Without much though I bought the first season, and haven't looked back since. Yesterday I completed season 3 and woke up thinking about it more than I have about any piece of fiction for years. It isn't that season 3 is the best, I mean season 1 is classic and season 4 is shaping up to be awesome ( I am four episodes in), but something about the way the case closed and the characters turned as the credits closed was so so......poetic.
Starting season 4 today seemed to add to this idea. One of the minor story lines of 3 is that (spoiler alert) Prez leaves the force. He starts 4 out as a teacher at his first school. We start to see snippets of him failing to control a classroom full of teenagers (it ain't as easy as it is on TV), one of the biggest problems is him being a white polish American trying to get the attention of a class of African Americans on the West Side of Baltimore where the only white figures they ever come across are Police (ironicly the only thing Prez knows to be). By episode 4 it gets worse, one of his students attacks another with a blade in class and hell lets loose. But this isn't the poetry. The poetry of the whole series is the way that all the details are real and evocative. In one scene Prez tries to teach the class how to work out a simple Math problem, but his stance is all wrong. He is trying to physically climb into the black board he is standing against. From what is he saying he is trying to get across to them, to "connect" with the class, but his physical mannerisms are giving him away. More than anything he says or does we know how he feels, the struggle he is failing to fight. There are many teaching films out there, some do better than others, but in a 30 second scene we see the centre of the issue more than before. The thing is that I am a teacher, but if I was a port worker I could relate with the struggles in season 2; if I were an alcholic I would see the struggles McNaulty goes through; and the list goes on. Everything about the whole show is real.
I don't actually want to watch TV again, because it won't be as good as The Wire. Watch it.
The dictionary definition of poetry is (according to dictionary.com at least) is :
"the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative, or elevated thoughts." But what exactly is poetry?
It seems at the moment I am going from story to story. Whether is it watching the first hour of Day Watch on DVD, reading Stephen Fry's America, playing the first ten minutes of Need For Speed Undercover; Prince of Persia; Tomb Raider Underworld; or Shaun White; or significantly watching The Wire seasons 3 and 4. But which, of any of these are poetry? Each of them excite, or at least engage for some time, each use the imagination, but only one elevates....
Basically this entry is about The Wire. For those that have not seen, or heard of it, it is a now complete TV series which aired on HBO in the states and from what I know, cable channels over here. I think I had heard about it a couple of years ago by name but didn't know anything more. Then recently (I think because the final season came out on DVD finally) it started to seep more and more into my consciousness. It seems that the writers for the Guardian website started writing about how it was great, from essays on its themes to sports writers referring to second division football players as Jimmy McNaulty (the main character). Without much though I bought the first season, and haven't looked back since. Yesterday I completed season 3 and woke up thinking about it more than I have about any piece of fiction for years. It isn't that season 3 is the best, I mean season 1 is classic and season 4 is shaping up to be awesome ( I am four episodes in), but something about the way the case closed and the characters turned as the credits closed was so so......poetic.
Starting season 4 today seemed to add to this idea. One of the minor story lines of 3 is that (spoiler alert) Prez leaves the force. He starts 4 out as a teacher at his first school. We start to see snippets of him failing to control a classroom full of teenagers (it ain't as easy as it is on TV), one of the biggest problems is him being a white polish American trying to get the attention of a class of African Americans on the West Side of Baltimore where the only white figures they ever come across are Police (ironicly the only thing Prez knows to be). By episode 4 it gets worse, one of his students attacks another with a blade in class and hell lets loose. But this isn't the poetry. The poetry of the whole series is the way that all the details are real and evocative. In one scene Prez tries to teach the class how to work out a simple Math problem, but his stance is all wrong. He is trying to physically climb into the black board he is standing against. From what is he saying he is trying to get across to them, to "connect" with the class, but his physical mannerisms are giving him away. More than anything he says or does we know how he feels, the struggle he is failing to fight. There are many teaching films out there, some do better than others, but in a 30 second scene we see the centre of the issue more than before. The thing is that I am a teacher, but if I was a port worker I could relate with the struggles in season 2; if I were an alcholic I would see the struggles McNaulty goes through; and the list goes on. Everything about the whole show is real.
I don't actually want to watch TV again, because it won't be as good as The Wire. Watch it.
Sunday 8 February 2009
Ride or die.
1, 2, 3, 4, breathe easy.
So this is blog that is not fiction, it is totally fact. This week brings judgement, the most significant of all. I just made a cd that is titled "Elements of Outstanding", this is hardly a prediction, I wish, it is more of an appraisal of my state of being. More than any other time in my life I have a lot of things to be positive about personally, none more so that professionally. I know I have things to work on (and I am sure that the followers of this blog can agree) but I have the confidence to address them without being stressed. This time last year I didn't think that I would be here (not in a being alive way, just vocationally) but now I cannot think of a way of why I would leave.
This weekend has brought some luck in totally the right way. I don't believe in the power of prayer, per say (but thanks to the those at the Christian bookstore who thought about us) but I do believe in the power of positive thoughts. We all have some bad shit in our lives, whether it be people giving us stress when they should know better or things we have to overcome by trusting others. Ultimately we do have to trust, ride things out and see how the cookie crumbles (to mix two metaphors.) If things by Thursday aren't what we hoped for (though I think they will be) then we stand tall, brush off the shoulder and come back alive.
I guess what I am trying to say is: believe in yourself and all else will follow.
Trust.
So this is blog that is not fiction, it is totally fact. This week brings judgement, the most significant of all. I just made a cd that is titled "Elements of Outstanding", this is hardly a prediction, I wish, it is more of an appraisal of my state of being. More than any other time in my life I have a lot of things to be positive about personally, none more so that professionally. I know I have things to work on (and I am sure that the followers of this blog can agree) but I have the confidence to address them without being stressed. This time last year I didn't think that I would be here (not in a being alive way, just vocationally) but now I cannot think of a way of why I would leave.
This weekend has brought some luck in totally the right way. I don't believe in the power of prayer, per say (but thanks to the those at the Christian bookstore who thought about us) but I do believe in the power of positive thoughts. We all have some bad shit in our lives, whether it be people giving us stress when they should know better or things we have to overcome by trusting others. Ultimately we do have to trust, ride things out and see how the cookie crumbles (to mix two metaphors.) If things by Thursday aren't what we hoped for (though I think they will be) then we stand tall, brush off the shoulder and come back alive.
I guess what I am trying to say is: believe in yourself and all else will follow.
Trust.
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