Champions against Mediocrity

About 4 years ago, some intrepid musicians disguised as English teachers in Poland came together to form a band.

4 years on they've matured, after countless hours of hard work and alcohol consumption that would make Bacchus wince, into one of the best bands I've heard in a while. I am of course talking about the brilliant Foxgang.

I first saw them at 'OxJam' a charity event held by the members of Oxfam at Mono in Glasgow. Impeccably on time and vouching to save the chickens they played their hearts out and definitely made an impact on mine.

Started by Ryan, a Geordie frontman on vocals and Joe, a quiet American from Louisiana on lead guitar, the band has been in and out of the spotlight making waves both in Poland and Scotland.

At first listen, they come across as slightly surreal in their music. That feeling dissappears once they kick it into high gear, involuntarily causing feet to tap and heads to nod in approval. Their songs are the right mix of catchy music and good lyrics that get you attached to the songs.

Individually, the songs carry a character almost as if they were real people - White English, their opening track combines an acute portrayal of social apathy combined with one of the most addictive pace in a song I've noticed in recent times. This is followed by the Beatle-esque beat of Cheesewire, words imploring you to 'take your life back' to the simpler things.

The extremely popular Nichola can only be summed up musically as a ticking time bomb. The lyrics are hilarious. They tell a story you would expect to hear from your close friends that would leave one eyebrow in a perpetual raised position, interspersed with hearty laughs.

To my best knowledge, the band's style reminds me of an eccentricity that has been missing from music nowadays. A shot of sharp lyrics and unbeatable melody gives you a much needed vaccination against the sea of indie indigestion. I have yet to find a song these gentlemen have served which isn't brimming with sheer talent.

Regulars around the popular Glasgow venues, I would strongly recommend seeing the guys live. Their shows tend to crackle and spark with Ryan's excellent vocals and band's unique onstage persona. They don't just play, they introduce you to their craft.

Looking at playing a gig at this year's Winterfest/Hogmanay celebrations in George Square, the boys could use your precious votes to give them a stage to rock out on. Details of how to vote are available on the Myspace page, as are Downloads of their tracks through TenTracks.

So come on down, be part of the gang.

The case of the missing pencils

What happens when you take a(some) large(small) animal(s), preferably dead, soak it(them) in formaldehyde and then put it(them) up for display? And what happens when your autobiography has a title so long that you need to use the whole cover for it? And what happens when you get pissy about some kid who made fun of you on a national scale?


Well, you get called a collossal nob.

The person I am going on about is Damien Hirst. In case you dont remember him, he's the chap who likes to do insane things in the name of art. He won the nonsensical Turner prize for his coveted bisected cow in formaldehyde in 1995. Hirst went on to create a giant statue of a pregnant woman, who had part of her skin 'missing' so we could look at the life growing inside amongst other animals in formaldehyde, crystal encrusted platinum skulls and cows with gold horns.

Now i'm a philistine when it comes to art, my eyes welded to the works of the great masters of old, but sure we don't need to feed the ego of a man who is, quite frankly, the artistic equivalent of the village idiot (or a very illegal, very powerful drug).

Recently in the news for the revival of his 'feud' with a 19 year old amatuer artist going by the pseudonym Cartrain, Damien has gone ahead and got Scotland Yard to arrest him for a theft of some pencils from his latest show 'Pharmacy'(which, surprise surprise, is like a pharmacy). The pencils were worth about £500,000.
As it turns out not only did Scotland Yard arrest the boy, but they also arrested his father for harbouring the stolen goods.

Why would a 19 year old steal Hirst's pencils? Well, it has to do with an incident in which Cartrain made collages which had images of Hirst's work in them (namely the platinum crystal encrusted skull). Being a aspiring young chap he sold the collages on a site which charged roughly £69 for each collage. Not a bad idea you might say.

Hirst complained to he Design and Arts Copyright committee for his copyrights on the said skull being infringed. They in turn pressured the lad to turn in his stuff and go home. He took his revenge by nicking the overpriced items and issuing a ransom note, demanding his collages and artwork back or else he'd "sharpen" them.

It's not as if Hirst's work isn't 'nicked'. His tiger shark in formaldehyde (starting to see a pattern?) was alleged to have been inspired by a person called Eddie Saunders who ran a simple electrical goods shop in Shoreditch two years prior to Hirst's monstrous marine masterpiece. Ok, so maybe there are loads of folk who hang up sharks, but to market it for millions by attaching a poem to it? You have to some kind of genius to pull it off. Perhaps at being a con.

My gripe isn't with his persona, it's with his idea that he is allowed to exert his enourmous clout as a public figure to prosecute a person who, quite frankly, was doing something harmless and trivial. Cartrain's work was in one instance making fun of Hirst but really, Can you not take a joke Mr Hirst?

The unusual suspects

Another passion of mine. Video games. They've come a long way since I first set my hands on an Atari. I realise, owing to conversation with a friend of mine, that I tend to gravitate towards game play more than graphics. I agree with him wholeheartedly.


It's not that I don't find flashy graphics entertaining. It's just that their novelty wears off quickly unless followed by some substance. Take the latest offering for the multi platform crowd - Prototype - A pretty game in which you play an genetically enhanced Ned who can flying kick helicopters and chuck cars like cards. While entertaining for a while, it falls into an unsatisfying grind of watching the same little computer people explode when you so much as touch them.


That said, I've played some grossly underrated (yet brilliant) games in the past few months and would like to recommend them to you.


Etrian Odyssey 2 for the DS is one such game. It's a first person dungeon crawler which is part Tower of Drauga, part Might and Magic. You create a party of 5 adventurers out of the 10 or so classes (12 after you unlock the secrets) and proceed to climb your way up the mysterious world tree upon whose crown rests a magical city. The tower (and it's 25 odd floors) are conveniently filled with monsters who show up in random battles as well as F.O.Es who are grossly overpowered monsters that give you no experience, but instead reward you with rare items. These once sold to the shop gives you access to some powerful weapons for your boffins. The game is unforgiving. If you die (and fail to run away to the town where you start from) it's game over.
The game's difficulty is not hard to master, but a casual gamer may find the learning curve a bit steep. I had a couple of false starts and got my party wiped clean on the first floor because I didn't quite know when to stop and go back to town. The bottom touch screen of the DS is used in a way that is what makes the game unique. It uses it as a parchment on which you are to draw the map of the dungeon. The game really does treat you as an adventurer and rewards you for collecting information on monsters and completing the map accurately. The F.O.Es are the only enemies visible on the map as different coloured orbs floating about and each floor has it's respective colour scheme. Once you've passed 5 or so floors, you've crossed a stratum and can continue from there rather than trudging up from floor one.


Then there's Swords and Sandals series. A game designed entirely in flash by an Australian company called Fizzy Games. It first started out as a game on the popular flash portal Newgrounds.com and was made by a person known as HeChaos. The premise of the game is to put you in the shoes of a gladiator in a fictional time and have you go up against other gladiators to increase in level and armament. Simple enough premise.
Subsequent versions of the games have added a little more to the mix by giving you an increasing amount of stuff to equip, a class system, magic, mana and a rudimentary skill tree that affects your play. In the background to the cartoony graphics and a guitar riff and a bunch of Australians screaming "LOOOOSEERRRR" the game runs on very D&Dish number crunching system.
The game's ever present "little fat kid" does the computations for your benefit. Every piece of armour you can equip gives a boost to a bar above your life bar which acts as a buffer for all attacks against you. However, critical hits completely bypass your armour and attack your health bar instantly, making the game a bit biased towards pure melee classes.
The game has many versions apart from the standard gladiatorial fight fest. S&S4 being a board game, with your gladiator being your piece on the board, making you spin a dice to get to the end and being marked for achievements such as most gold earned, most gold earned in minigames, most fights won, etc. Then there's S&S crusaders, an strategy variant where instead of gladiators it gets you to buy armies and control provinces for a cash flow - all the while pitting your forces against the opponents. Most of the games are prone to buggy gameplay due to their construction in flash, but on the flipside, they're tiny (25mb) and can be a good trivial escape from boredom. You can play a demo at www.Kongregate.com or www.Newgrounds.com but you have to pay £10 to own a full version.


Lastly, there's Elements. It's a card game (again designed in flash) by a person called Zanzarino whose production values are impressive. An odd bastard child of Magic: the Gathering and the Japanese Duel monsters, the game gives you the choice to specialise in one of the 12 elements and then starts you off with a deck comprised of cards related to the element (plus the Quantum deck which works for all elements).
You are then challenged to play through the game using these cards. You can play the ever increasingly difficult A.I. or you can go ahead and play against human opponents.
The mechanics of the game are robust. The objective of the game is to deplete your opponent's HP by attacking them. Summoned monsters, certain spells and equippable weapon cards called permanents can damage the opponents life points directly. You can play an infinite number of cards from your hand in any turn (provided you have the corresponding Mana) and each card has a special effect that can be triggered once per turn or, in rare cases, infinitely. At the beginning of every turn you are awarded with 1 mana per "pillar" of the element you have played plus 1 of the element you are a master in (3 random points of mana per Quantum pillar you've played).
The game allows you to have as many elements in your deck as possible allowing you to create a permutation of cards suited to your gameplay. You could balance out the very defensive earth element with the very offensive fire element. Or you could bolster your survivability by adding the life element that allows you to heal damage to your health bar. The difference that Magic the Gathering players will pick up is that there is no barrier between your health bar and the damage you get from the opponents monsters and/or spells as well as the fact that you cannot subsitute one type of mana for another when summoning. You can play cards that postpone damage or reduce it but you cannot stop it, making an average game about 5-10 minutes long. I still keep finding little nuances and tricks when I play it and it makes the game all the more richer and intricate. With over 100 cards its easy to make a deck that plays uniquely.
The game penalises your score for losing and is fairly hard to master so consider resetting your deck every now and then until you find that winning combination. The best part? It's absolutely free of cost. There is an option to donate via paypal to keep the game afloat but contributing is up to you. The maker of the game doesnt really stress on it too much. You should definitely give it a go at http://www.elementsthegame.com.

These games are by far nothing compared to the behemoths churned out by the likes of EA and Rockstar, however their endearing presence and odd quirky nature appeal to a certain form of gamer. Some might say it appeals to 'Oldies' or people living in the past. I beg to differ. Games have always been about playing them rather than gawking at the 'realistic' imitation of life.

Not much of a game without some play isn't it?

Oh Glasgow, my Glasgow

Glasgow.

What can I say? It's a bittersweet city. A city that, if it was a person, would be a person with mild schizophrenia. Having lived in Glasgow for a bit, I can only relate the oddities and virtues that stood out to me.

Pigeons. Nearly everywhere else I've been, pigeons have been like jittery neurose ridden things that would fly away if you looked at them wrong. In Glasgow, you can walk around George Square and pigeons have the right of way. They will look at you with blood red eyes, chip dangling from the mouth like a Bogartesque cigarette, asking you what your problem is. They only fly away if you try to jump on them. Probably saying "Whit yae daen, ya fanny!?"

Seagulls. The size of decently sized microwaves tip to tip flying in the sky, squawking threats against the food you are holding, little dogs and your life (In that order). I will admit I orchestrated a strategic retreat from a fallen hamburger which was set upon by these flying Grim Reapers. I felt a deep sadness for the hamburger, being ripped bun to bun by the gulls.

Glasgow, like most cities, is divided by areas. Namely the center, north, west, east and south. Each area has it's own distinctive flavour of resident who is the predominant shade in which the respective area is painted.

The West End, Bohemian students flitting about making trips to the supermarkets for bits of food and gallons of liquids, forever rolling herbal cigarettes. Affluence is present in the West End like a rash.

There's the East side used to be the domain of wealthy merchants and businessmen until they started shifting towards the West End, following the trail of money. Now it's like the poorer cousin of the West End, after being mugged blind by capitalism and promises of grandeur.

Then there's the South side. You can see so many chiselled, weathered faces in the South that you might think that the words "gruff" and "tough" were coined there. The average age is around 40 and its a part of town you can feel intimidated yet safe. Oh, it has a forest called Queens Park right in the middle.

I admit I don't know much about the North side. As far as I am concerned it's a dark no man's land devoid of human life. The two things that are there in some degree of plenty are colleges and Car dealerships. All in all, a bit like New York (from the movie Escape from New York).

Then there is the City Centre. Cosmopolitan, Cool and ...well, full of something else with a C. The Centre is where most visiting Londoners will confine themselves to when "oot on de toon". While entertaining nonetheless, the misconception about widespread violence in Glasgow is often a myth perpetuated by sporadic drunken fisticuffs and blatant rumour mongering. Glasgow's more intimidating than violent at best (Although, violence is exceptionally brutal when it occurs).

Speaking of violence, one is bound to mention Neds. No, not a collection of Ned Flanders. Neds are an abbreviation for "Non-Educated Delinquents". Glasgow's version of the British Chav. They often speak in a dialect that isn't quite intelligible. It's not quite Glaswegian as it is a mish mash of words that only they can understand. They also function quite like small mammals, being as they can only display strength in numbers. The moment you make a threatening move or display a show of strength they scatter.

I often get asked, "why Glasgow?" when I tell people I could have gone to New Zealand (land of the lord of the rings) or Cardiff (Welsh capital of ..... don't really know much) or the bustling life of London. I often wonder "why not?"

I love the pace of this city. It flows well, and I never feel homesick. I'd like to think of Glasgow as my city now, even though I wasn't born here. D'yaknowhaaymeen?

Urban Language.

While most of us have occasionally dipped into UrbanDictionary.com and found ourselves some classic terms that describe nearly everything, Some of these terms are beyond the normal scope of the world while some are just convenient rearrangements.

Still, they contain merit. And for that very reason I'm going to paste a few of my favourite to know (if not say) in the post. So, In alphabetical order:

America: A country that claims the name of an entire continent to itself alone for no compelling reason.

Awkward Turtle: When you're in an awkward moment, place your hands on top of each other, and spin your thumbs forward. Thus creating the creature know as awkward turtle.

Beer Summit: The meeting of President Obama and any parties for which an injustice has occurred. This meeting must take place in the White House and be broadcast throughout the media.

Dudevorce: When two male best friends officially end their friendship over a lame disagreement, usually concerning a girl.

Facebook Alzheimer's: When you get a friend's request from someone that you have no idea where you know them from. The worst part is you have mutual friends from work and school! You post messages on each other's wall and they never know you have no clue as to how you know them.

Facebrag: To use Facebook as a platform to brag. Normally about a job, internship, trip, purchase or anything else that nobody really needs to know but you'd like to tell everyone because you're awesome.

Hiking in Appalachia: To have an extramarital affair. Stems from the disappearance and subsequent reappearance of South Carolina Governor, Mark Sanford(R). Gov. Sanford was thought to be hiking in Appalachia. In actuality, he was having an affair in the South American country of Argentina. (this one made me laugh for a while)

Parking Karma: The uncanny ability to find an open parking space in a desirable location of a busy parking lot.

Problem Saturation: A process by which Mainstream Media addresses an issue incessantly, building up to a sense of pending doom. Of course, the problem, while worrisome, does not pose the grave threat they would like you to believe. Finally, MSM abandons coverage of the problem completely, moving on to another problem.

Running Latte: showing up late to work because you stopped for coffee along the way.

Sarah Palin Effect: The principal that expertise on a certain subject can be gained through geographical proximity to it, i.e. Palin's knowledge on foreign affairs with Russia on account of Alaska being geographically close.

Weenis: The loose skin on your elbow.

Writer's Crap: Derived from 'writer's cramp', writer's crap refers to a stage when one is only capable of writing utter crap. (I think I'm suffering from this now)

Zinedine Zidane: The only thing Brazil is afraid of.

Opposites.

Opposites attract. I find that to be the most inane drivel ever spoken by a human being. Why? Apart from the romantic notions and blithering ideals of love, opposites create unnecessary friction, and ultimately some form of spousal abuse.

Naysayers might go on as to quote many an example to me but it doesn't make sense to me. I was recently talking to C and realised how much we had in common. Like a near telepathic link to what the other was thinking.

This, of course, stems not from some supernatural force but more a common understanding. The romanticised notion that is "opposites attract" is just a bit flawed.

It may be the case that you are attracted to someone who is your opposite in most terms. Your attraction would almost be based on a subconscious form of envy, i.e. you see a quality they have that you like. It's rather simple. It's got appeal because by being with said opposite you somehow feed off that facet of their personality. It gets boring after a while.

Yes, shoot me. I said boring. I will not go into analogies or fall into becoming a twisted agony aunt on relationships. The point is that the term "opposites attract" is a dangerous concept - it's too absolute in its form.

Social science and "the mystery method", in my opinion, are two really deluded forms of human endeavours. While I will give Social Sciences a higher credo, because it is not focused on this aspect of human courting and has to do with a wider scale of human social interaction, The mystery method is a simply mind bending mish mash of survival of the fittest and nascent psychology which caters to a hollow, mentally bankrupt society.

It assumes that a woman is passive and the man must initiate contact as well as the ultimate aim of all human relationships is to procreate. I see the ones amongst you who like disagreeing with things thinking "oh? yes, but isn't it?" It's not. Anyone who simplifies it to that is just looking for it.

But get a load of this. Adam Lyons, a 'dating' coach, has simplified the human courtship process into a simple, easy to understand formula.

(Comfort - Rapport) + Qualification + Sexual Escalation = Attraction.

The thing is that both of these endeavours to understand human courtship fail because there are too many bits and factors that are unpredictable. It's nigh impossible to measure it or confine it within methods and theories.

While I am no purveyor of the truth, I do understand that people are more inclined towards similarities as well as complementary differences. Opposites can only do one thing - be wildly attracted to each other and then crash into themselves.

Please, leave this thing alone to remain a mystery.

After all, as said Oscar Wilde:

"The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death."

A moment of clarity

Everybody in this world has these moments of clarity when all the tumblers fall into place and we unlock an answer so accurate, it's weight hits us with the force of the sky falling on our heads.

I first recognized the moment of clarity when I read the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The starting of one of the books had this paragraph.

"And then, one Thursday, nearly two thousand years after one man had been nailed to a tree for saying how great it would be to be nice to people for a change, one girl sitting on her own in a small cafe in Rickmansworth suddenly realized what it was that had been going wrong all this time, and she finally knew how the world could be made a good and happy place. This time it was right, it would work, and no one would have to get nailed to anything.

Sadly, however, before she could get to a phone to tell anyone about it, a terribly stupid catastrophe occurred, and the idea was lost forever."

It was this paragraph that got me thinking - Don't we all have that kind of feeling once in a while? An epiphany, a disclosure or an revelation that sudden creates a sudden expansion of all mental functions.

Many people say that they've never had this sort of thing. Truth is they have experienced it but cannot identify it. It's treated with a glove of jovial contempt in general, denied as being 'too poetic' or 'useless', but these moments are what makes life worth living.

Its funny but I find myself addicted to these moments of clarity. Funny because you cannot predict them or have them on command. Yet watching a good movie, reading a good book or just listening to music can sometimes give me a clear thought.

Hitchhiker's was one thing that did that for me repeatedly. As were the works of the late Spike Milligan. I've even had one playing Street Fighter. I wont list them but they were hilarious or revealing in their own right.

I've had moments of clarity about people. Whether it be by talking to them or interpreted through their actions. The thing is you should never discount such a moment because invariably it releases you to a sense of wondrous disbelief - "Why didn't I think of that before?"

So the next time you have something like that, savour it. These moments are few and far between. To end, I will illustrate this with a popular Zen saying.

"When you are deluded and full of doubt, even a thousand books of scripture are not enough. When you have realized understanding, even one word is too much."

Vagabond

Tastes evolve. When you were a kid you loved flashy, weirdly animated and often simplistic cartoons or shows. The good guys were always good and the bad guys were always beaten.

When you grow up you tend to re-evaluate the current situation. Maybe you see layers of complexities in the stuff you thought was simple or simply find something that blows you away. In that vein, I admit to have read and watched many a morose anime series and read many a manga from the former.

That is until I read Takehiko Inoue's 'Vagabond'.

Takehiko is known widely amongst the western world for his iconic manga about basketball called 'Slam dunk'. I've read that too, but this is miles and miles above the fantasy world of Shonen manga. This is a masterpiece in itself.

The manga deals with a re-telling of the life of Miyamoto Mushashi loosely based on the novel by Eiji Yoshikawa. While the novel is an epic work spanning at least 6 books detailing Mushashi's rise as a swordsman in the midst of Japan's feuding lords, the manga deals with it in a more personable manner, making it easier for the reader to get into the mind of someone we can only imagine.

Miyamoto Mushashi, inventor of the Hyoho Niten-ichi ryu style of kenjutsu, was a 16th century swordsman in Japan. At a very early age he showed skill with a sword others could only dream of. Stories of a boy from the country who bested students and masters from reputed schools of swordsmanship with a wooden sword made him grow into a living legend. A man who was and is considered the archetype of a samurai in many a mind.

But how did he reach this pinnacle? How did he become the Mushashi? That is where Takehiko Inoue's work provides an interesting insight.

Takehiko's work and basis of Mushashi's life is grim and dark. In the manga Shinmen Takezo, Mushashi's birth name, is a boy castigated by villagers as being a demon child after he assaults and kills a swordsman who issues a challenge to the townsfolk. His violent and angry ways fuelled by his cold hearted and anarchic father, Takezo leaves the village aged 17 to fight in the war between the Tokugawa and the Toyotomi families for control of Japan. Along with Takezo goes his boisterous and reasonably untalented friend Matahachi who wants nothing more than to prove he is a man and Takezo's equal. Their lives run parallel to each other in the manga and are beautifully inverse in their odd relationship as friends.

The Mushashi in the manga is a beast. A demon forged by the sole purpose of being "invincible under the sun". He fights mercilessly, kills without remorse or hesitation and lives a destructive life. The manga portrays this in a most graphic sense, so be warned it's not pretty or nice. Reading a little into the manga, the reader is able to recognize Takezo/Mushashi's reasoning behind his way. We realise his motives for being this way as a justification of his existence.

When he isn't drawing his sword against a foe, Takezo is a quiet youth. Forever in his thoughts, polite and righteous Takezo deals with his day to day interactions in a humane way. He is almost portrayed as being more animal than human in thought, surviving on instinct. It is later that he, through his interactions and reflections realises what he is doing and has done all his life. He understands the concept of karma and his hand in creating a "cycle of death and desperation".

While my understanding and portrayal of the manga may seem complicated, the language and method used by Takehiko Inoue is simple and straightforward making it one of the most easily read manga I have ever come across.

What really shines through is the artwork. Characters are realistic. The odd rare super-deformed heads and anime conventions of emoticons are present, usually for comic effect, but they are unnoticable in the sheer work in making the character's feel believable. The picture I put up with this post is one of the examples of how the manga is drawn. Takehiko uses both pen and brush in liberal doses to create a fluid, almost Sumi-e form of expression. The swordfights are brutal affairs, dealt within a few panels - No acrobatics - No special moves - No superhyperpowered laser beams. All players are human, with human limits. The 'good guy' or the main character suffers real injuries that take a believable time to heal.

All this serves to negate the suspension of belief for this manga. Quite the opposite that by showing these characters who are so strong yet so fallible, Takehiko defies most anime and manga conventions. To anyone who thinks comics are unreadable things, I would recommend Vagabond.

You can read Vagabond here. It is marked mature for its graphic content.

Adventure Boys and Memories

Today I'm going to write about a manga and an anime I've recently seen. Both of them are fairly dated yet they are in themselves works of art.

Lets talk about the manga first. It's known as "Adventure Boys" or "Boken Shonen". Drawn and written by noted mangaka Adachi Mitsuru and serialised between '98 and '06 it's his best work till date.

sidenote: Most japanese comics are 'serialised' or released chapter by chapter in magazines that are compilations of different mangakas. This makes reading them a more involving affair and gives many artists their 'breaks'. Popular magazines include Shonen Jump and Weekly Shōnen Magazine.

Adventure Boys comes in the form of 7 well told stories. We've all reached a point in our lives where we can look back on our youth. It's odd that sometimes our aims when we were young and our aims now conflict and sometimes suffer the ravages of time and sensibility. The manga tells us stories of this disillusionment of our youthful ideals through the eyes of the young.

The artwork in the manga is Mitsuru's traditional style which he uses in his more mainstream manga - Detailed backgrounds and props foreshadowed by simple facial and bodily forms. This drastic contrast lends to the apparent innocence of the subject matter.

Mitsuru's story writing is even more engrossing - he keeps it simple while letting the reader form their own thoughts about the direction things are going in. He doesn't hold your hand and lead you through the pages - he offers hints, tips and nudges in the right way. It covers a wide variety of subjects including the changes in friendship's, childhood beliefs, atrocities and even the innocent concept of love and belonging.

If this makes you want you to throw up, stop reading and skip to the movie below - still - I would reccomend reading this when no one else is looking lest you feel 'lame' or 'stupid'. The stories in this manga are applicable to all of us. So put your egos in a box and read.

All in all, a highly recommended read for anyone and not just manga lovers. You can read all 7 chapters online here.



Next, I'd like to talk about Memories by Katsuhiro Otomo. If any of you've watched the cult classic Akira and recognize it's makers name, then Memories will not disappoint.

‘Memories’ is a movie made up of 3 unrelated segments. All based on stories written by Otomo and directed by friends of his who have worked with the award winning artist/director in the past.

The first segment is called 'Magnetic Rose' directed by Koji Matsumoto and screenplay by Satoshi Kon. Set in a time in the future where space debris is eliminated and retrieved by ships serving as intergalactic garbage trucks. One such ship receives a mysterious S.O.S. from a highly magnetized region of space. What's more strange is that the S.O.S is actually an operatic piece. The crew find themselves drawn towards the source while wondering what lies there....and whether it's friendly.

The second one is a more humorous, sarcastic take on human frailties. 'Stink Bomb', directed by Tensai Okamura and screenplay by Otomo, is a comedic masterpiece of insane proportions. All hell breaks loose when a biological weapon is let loose towards Tokyo, prompting the entire Japanese self defence force to combat the terrible onslaught. The onslaught being brought by a single, weak, mild mannered lab assistant, Nobuo Tanaka. On a Honda super cub scooter. This is made of so much Win.

Sidenote: Here's what a Honda cub looks like. note the sheer unimpressiveness of the thing.

Finally, there's the short yet epic 'Cannon Fodder'. If you ever thought anime wasn't your cup of tea and the flashy lines and cheesy dialogue put you in a state of catatonic disapproval then this is what you need to see. The exception to the case, written and directed by Otomo himself, Cannon Fodder is equal parts Orwellian nightmare and a study into the world's (current) state.

All three shorts carry a pedigree in artwork, music and screenplay with them. The medium of animation, not restricted by physical boundaries or materials, allows the stories to come alive in ways most film makers can only think of. The segments provide you with a mix of all genres nearly at once - sci fi, action, comedy, drama and thrills - while not making it a mish mash of the same.

You can watch a medium quality, subtitled version of this film here. Let it buffer for a bit and be sure to click accept or the file wont play.

The death of a grasshopper.

He was a legend in his own right and it took my brain a few seconds to register him as the star of the hit TV series, Kung Fu, when he appeared on screen as Bill in Kill Bill.

Anyone in the world who recants into fancy kung fu stances or praises the Buddha in the style of (many) a martial arts flick upon hearing the word 'Grasshopper' wouldn't know what I'm talking about.

I am, of course, talking about David Carradine whose recent death is at once sudden and controversial.

His role in Kung Fu was a masterful piece of wooden acting and the story was ham-fisted in its approach but the concept was pure gold. Kwai Chang Caine, an orphaned Sino-American child is raised by in the Shaolin temple by the blind master Po and trained in the arts of Kung fu. Master Po is killed by the Emperor's nephew and the child, now a man, layeth the smack down on the nephew.

Implicated of murdering a relative of the emperor, Kwai Chang flees to the wild wild west where he wanders the frontier lands searching for his half brother, Danny. Along the series Kwai Chang comes to the aid of the downtrodden using his art to, yet again, lay down the law.

Why is this a good series? Well, the story wasn't stellar but the piece by piece episodes in themselves were well written and executed in a very graceful pace. Then there was the Aesop-like moral fibre in them - Kwai Chang's moral compass as a Shaolin monk prevents him from ignoring the people's plights yet he knows every move he makes somehow makes him easier to track down.

Finally, there's the martial arts aspect. It's not flashy or showy. People do not jump around with no respect to gravity. Ripping someone's heart out is not possible without scalpels, a degree in surgery and a strong stomach. The martial arts in the series are real and believable. Caine is not untouchable, just really really good at dodging. He prefers to choose practicality over pomp, tire his opponent out and end him with a swift, precise strike.

The show also used flashbacks to Caine's past in the temple as a device to understand the morals and motives of the character, fleshing out his being. Many of the teachings instilled into Caine by his masters are taken from Taoist and Zen teachings giving the show a touch of authenticity.

There are reasons for this which are more realistic than artsy. The show's concept, originally proffered by Bruce Lee in a different format, called for an actor of Asian origin who knew kung fu (ironically, Bruce Lee himself wanted the role of Caine). Studio heads at the time thought that an American audience would not identify with an Asian man being the lead of a primetime series and did not go ahead with Lee's idea.

When Lee left for Hong Kong to make 'The Big Boss', network executives picked up the concept and decided to cast an 'Asian-looking American' for the role. Carradine, with his one ninth Cherokee ancestry, fit the bill for the serene and poetic Kwai Chang Caine.

Of course, Carradine knew no martial arts and wasn't really trained in it for the purposes of the series. He held some credo as a dancer as well as being athletic and lithe. Going by what a Karate master at the time said that 'the only qualification that was needed to be trained in the martial arts was that you had to know how to dance' Carradine was perfect for the role.

Regardless, the show was a massive hit. It was a vehicle for many an Asian star in the US as many gained employment as actors depicting Caine's pursuers. It even starred Brandon Lee, ironically as the son of Caine, a role his biological father might have played.

David Carradine's death on June 4th 2009 was saddening. More so because of the circumstances surrounding his death than his age. He was found in his hotel room near Bangkok, dead by what forensics claim to have been 'autoerotic asphyxation'.

Even more saddening is the fact that the Carradine family lawyer, Mike Geragos, alleged on Larry King Live that Carradine was assassinated by "groups working in the martial-arts underworld." and that he did not want to go into "conspiracy theories" marshaling the FBI to Bangkok at the family's behest.

A man is dead. Best not to talk ill of one who is no longer with us, for even as we can surely see, we do not look.

I leave you with an clip from arguably the best scene in Kung Fu. Featuring a flashback of Kwai Chang's young days at the temple in which master Po gives him the iconic nickname of grasshopper.

The loudmouth we all have known....

She's the loudmouth we've always known. Managing our freedom of speech with her hammering words. She's Godzilla in a suit. love her or hate her....she's always there

A man, a boy and their stuffed tiger

How many of us would really sit up and notice the name William B. "Bill" Watterson II?

Better known as the creator of the iconic 'Calvin and Hobbes' cartoon strip the reclusive artist is hard to track down in reality. He stood for years as a force against syndication and merchandising of his art.

"My strip is about private realities, the magic of imagination, and the specialness of certain friendships. Who would believe in the innocence of a little kid and his tiger if they cashed in on their popularity to sell overpriced knickknacks that nobody needs?" - Bill Watterson.

A man with a degree in Political science and a knack for seeing things a bit differently, Watterson created a simple template that he could extrapolate to any length he wished. In his own words he never tried to "push the boundaries" or use his own personal life as inspiration for the strip. Calvin and Hobbes are just Calvin and Hobbes.

His views, however, are clear as day in his work. Whether it was his well placed jabs at the state of affairs of the world in general or his attempts to identify things closer to home, such as parenting and the way children have no filter between their brains and their mouths (the latter very well displayed by Calvin).

Both titular characters are in themselves complex if you choose to know more. Named after the philosophers John Calvin and Thomas Hobbes, both characters are actually quite their opposites.

Calvin is a impulsive yet imaginative kid and his views on religion are mostly centred around the debate of being good for Christmas presents while battling his urge to be bad. Hobbes is the more stable, intelligent albeit sarcastic part of the duo with Watterson himself admitting that he used Hobbes as a mouthpiece for his views.

Add to this Calvin's long suffering parents, known only as Mom and Dad, who have a very sardonic and often controversial way of parenting, recurring crush Susie Derkins (who Calvin torments and tortures since he is unsure of what love is), his bossy babysitter Rosalyn who is the only person, Watterson claims, Calvin really fears and Moe the bully.

Running for a decade between 1985 and 1995, the strip has a huge following around the world and has been translated into many languages giving countless folk around the world a laugh and a chuckle.

All in all, for me Bill Watterson is one of those people who stood for character and sensibility. At no point was he being boring with it, but rather pointing a well placed mirror to ourselves. His views on art are defined as there being "no 'high art' or 'low art' - Just art." while at the same times constantly amazing us as an artist rather than a cartoonist.

A humble man from a place in the past we forget all to easily.

I leave you with Bill's trademark wit being displayed in an answer he gave to one of his fans:-

Q: What attributes do you wish were seen more commonly among children?

A: Good parents!

- taken from Fans around the world interview with Bill Watterson

Why bankers are not the only wankers.

I was talking to a friend earlier who was curious about the state of the economy.

She started out by pointing me towards this rather informative, yet simplistic flash animation for anyone who doesn't understand the term "credit crunch". Have a look.

The Crisis of Credit Visualized.

Mr Jarvis raised a lot of questions in her head. We talked about how long would it take to fix and why people kept doing that when they knew the consequences. Then we got talking about money.

Which led me to another thought, Did you know that the money you have in your pocket is not actually money?

Side note: I had a Morpheus moment there, specifically the one in which he says "do you think that's air you are breathing?"

Its just a promise to pay the bearer the sum of the bill you are holding. A receipt. A sort of contractual obligation supported and paid for by the government.

Back in the good ol' days, the sum of money in an economy was actually backed up by precious metal reserves like gold or silver. By the 90s, most countries had switched from that to 'Legal tender' where the Government bestows value on the money.

On one hand this removes the limits of having gold for every pound stored somewhere and allows economies to blast off. On the other hand, It creates wild fluctuations like this. By creating an illusion of money in existance while the same not being true about it in circulation, It paints a odd picture of financial health. India, for example, is touted as becoming the next big market/economy/thing even though disparities exist in larger gaps than before.

This construct of 'free money' is both bad and good. Bad because it gives you the money to seriously fuck things up when you run out of fingers to count on, i.e. lose track of it. Good because my degree in Commerce is now actually making me feel happy (which I thought was impossible)!

Knopfler and the boys from Dire Straits sang Money for Nothing (....and chicks for free). The song talks about a record store owner's rant over how easy it was to "play the guitar on the MTV" and become a rock star for kicks.

That was the soundtrack running in my head whenever I listen to people moan about bankers being wankers. While I agree most of them are puppets of soulless organisms designed to slurp your life up like spaghetti bolognese, I don't think they are really *all* to blame for the problem.

Sure, they gave us easy credit - Overdrafts, loans with little or no collateral value and credit cards you could use to wipe the blues away - but who lapped it up and used it with abandon? There's no use hiding behind the facade that "They made it sound so easy" or "Everyone else was doing it" - what matters is that we gave in to it. We gave in to the culture of want.

I wont lie. I'm not exactly debt free. Got a student loan to pay off and owe many friends money, All of which weigh heavily on me and give me a fair deal of stress. Slowly though, I'll try to make my way on top of this.

And if ever I lose the grace of sane thought and go on a rant, you are more than welcome to put me in my place.

Until then, lets listen to some good ol' music.


We gotta install microwave ovens,
Custom kitchen deliveries,
We gotta move these refrigerators,
We gotta move these colour TV's, Lord!

Now that ain't workin' that's the way you do it,
You play the guitar on the MTV,
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it,
Money for nothin' and your chicks for free,
Money for nothin' and chicks for free,


- Money for nothing by Dire Straits.

another victim...

Lo and behold. A friend comes to join me.

My good friend PK (whom I am going to be nice about) has chanced upon the idea for using this blog as a forum for our respective works of art.

Pictures speak a thousand words and all that...

Am all for it.

PK lives in Singapore and is probably the most sane of us all. He's part of the safe boy team. Dependable. Reliable (both depending and relying on my two-wheeler back home). He has an unusual ability to attract weird people - which speaks volumes for me and the rest of our group.

Hopefully, added attendence will give this blog a bit of stability and stature!

Hopefully...

Am I late?

My friends have always known me to be late.

Some people are known for being the life of the party while others are known for having amazing talents. I've been known for being late. Hence the blog title.

Most of my friends have blogs. I'm late for this too.

I suppose I never pictured myself as one who chronicles things in an online diary for others to read. My thoughts on things are private and shared only with a select few. I still feel this way.

Yet here I am, on my very own blog - 3 cups of tea and a sleepless night later - working on what to write. I dont think I'll write about my life because it's mundane. I'm a slave to work at the moment. I dont think I have far too well defined tastes to write about them.

I suppose what I can promise to write about is my insight. That too is perhaps, comically, 15 minutes late.

Therefore, I am going to write this blog not for information's sake, nor for placarding my life's worth but simply to figure out why I'm writing it.

sidenote: one of my esteemed friends described me in my 'chubby' past as a ruminating cow. So MOO to that!