Monday, August 17, 2009

Inspiration



Creative Inspiration means something to me that makes me truly sit back on my couch and pay attention to and then fall in awe and love with the idea of genius. One such brief romance with poetry came when i saw "Four weddings and a funeral". It's a scene where fellow mourners gather in the church for a funeral service of a jolly bugger. His best buddy doesnt find lines more be-fitting than to quote W.H.Auden, in one of his poems, "Funeral Blues". Here are the lines:

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.


The next bit of inspiration comes from the song i've long since become addicted to much like the singer was addicted to drugs. Kurt Cobain...a rare talent. I know the song can be earlier credited to David Bowie, but once you hear the haunting melody of the guitar towards the end of the song you will fall into a trance that only Niravana can create. I remember very early, a friend told me everytime he heard Nirvana, he doped. I somehow cant detest his views. I know what the feeling is like and its one of the best forms of bliss i've experienced/felt as a human. I dont mean to preach drug abuse but the combination of {Niravana/A few other tracks in the background - Dope - Shack near the Sea - Fellow dopers engaged in meaningful conversations heading towards abstract emptiness and nullified expressions later}, actually creates an impact on you that sanity in its vaguest sense can never encroach upon. Following are the lines of the "The man who sold the world". Beauty, thy name isnt woman alone !!!

We passed upon the stairs,We spoke of was and when

Although I wasnt there, He said I was his friend

Which came as a surprise, I spoke into his eyes --

I thought you died alone, A long long time ago

Oh no, not me,We never lost control,Youre face to face,With the man who sold the world

I laughed and shook his hand,I made my way back home,

I searched for form and land,Years and years I roamed,

I gazed a gazely stare,We walked a million hills --

I must have died alone,A long long time ago.

Who knows, not me,I never lost control,Youre face, to face,With the man who sold the world.



The last bit of mention is forMr. Jules from Pulp Fiction. What a movie. And what characterisation !!! The narrative is perhaps the best that i have ever seen and the dialogues still cause flurry and goose bumps !!! If any one has wondered about why Quentin Tarantino is so celebrated, please do see this movie and if you have already, please watch it again :D !!! The movie has dark humour, plenty of bloodshed and enjoyable to the last bit. Another director on the same lines is Guy Ritchie, who arrived wid a blast wid Lock Stock and two Smoking Barrels and Snatch, but poor Ritchie boy lost his marbles post his thing wid Madonna, and am yet to see a better product from him. Hmmm...brings us to the original subject. The best dialogue from Pulp Fiction. A criminal/cold blooded Hitman, reciting a verse from the bible before killing his victims. The last time he does that, there is an explanation, and somehow even he thinks for the first time about the implications of that statement, the metaphor etc... Truly Fabulous !!! Read it, then watch the movie to understand, if you know wat i mean:
Jules: "There's a passage I got memorized. Ezekiel 25:17. The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you. I been sayin' that shit for years. And if you ever heard it, it meant your ass. I never really questioned what it meant. I thought it was just a cold-blooded thing to say to a motherfucker before you popped a cap in his ass. But I saw some shit this mornin' made me think twice. Now I'm thinkin': it could mean you're the evil man. And I'm the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here, he's the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could be you're the righteous man and I'm the shepherd and it's the world that's evil and selfish. I'd like that. But that shit ain't the truth. The truth is you're the weak. And I'm the tyranny of evil men. But I'm tryin', Ringo. I'm tryin' real hard to be a shepherd."
Until next time and until some more thoughts.....


No comments:

Post a Comment