42 Quirks

(Image created using Wordle)
I begin by using words from Bilbo Baggins‘ speech:

I haven’t read half of what I should have read and half of what I have read I shouldn’t have read in the first place

» Read the rest of this entry «

While surfing the net a few days back, I accidentally stumbled onto this piece of treasure called “Amusing Ourselves to Death: Aldous Huxley v/s George Orwell”

Having read a few works by the two authors, enough to be acquainted with their work, I decided to read further. I am glad I did, because I was thoroughly impressed by the comparison that Stuart MacMillen made in his comic.

Wikipedia has a good primer about Aldous Huxley & George Orwell; but if you’re feeling lazy, here’s the gist of it: George Orwell was the one who wrote the classics like “1984” & “Animal Farm” which gave birth to the classic quote, “Big Brother is watching you.” Aldous Huxley, on the other hand was the man behind “Brave New World” – a book I haven’t entirely finished reading.

I hadn’t given either of the books a second thought until I found this comic – it put them in an entirely new perspective for me!

The image I have uploaded is the final strip of Stuart’s comic – but not a spoiler in any sense. The entire image is too large to display here, and I wouldn’t want to take away any credit (& traffic, too!) from Stuart.

Check out the entire article, “Amusing Ourselves to Death” at Stuart’s website Recombinant Records.

Recently I came across the Great Bong‘s review of the latest Bond movie (Casino Royale). A good review, I must say. And the movie IS brilliant, in some aspects, especially in capturing the true Casino Royale spirit.

Read it here: The Bond Walks Again.

But I am surprised, of the 45 comments (at the last count…) and through the entire post, there is not one true Bond fan.
Everyone keeps commenting on how Daniel Craig is un-suave and un-stylish, or at the very least less worthy than Pierce Brosnan and Sean Connery (Ye Gods!). I thought movies were meant for watching and *listening* as well.

For those who haven’t gotten the drift yet, check this link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ian_Fleming#James_Bond_books

And a complete Ian Fleming Bibliography can be found here:
http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/series/james-bond/

A ‘Casino’ Quickie
Casino Royale is Ian Fleming’s FIRST Bond book. The book is about a spy who has been recently promoted to a double agent status and given the license to kill. In casino royale, James Bond is a brash, short-tempered, somewhat uncouth (if I may say so) young man who believes in here and now. More often than not, he lets his heart rule over his head.

Casino Royale is not about the shaken-not-stirred martini Bond we know. Rather, it is about the man who became James Bond 007. It is about the process of finding and losing love that eventually hardens him into the ‘Bond, James Bond’ as we know today. Ever wonder why Craig never says the trademark Bond line (“The name’s Bond, James Bond”) except at the end? Now you know…

Everything about Daniel Craig in the movie, from his clothing to his Body language is raw, and exudes a different charm. The Bond babes are there and yet, not quite there, if you get my drift :)

But this post is not intended to be a review of the movie. It is meant to quash some of the misgivings about the ‘Bond series’.

The Bond Series

1. The Bond series is not a ‘Series’.
   Or rather, it is not in a chronological order. Check out Fleming’s bibliography and you’ll realize what I am talking about.
2. Daniel Craig looks gay/wussy/________ (Your adjective here)
   He’s meant to look raw. It’s his first ‘assignment’. Or sort of. He’s supposed to behave like an air-head. A promotion often does that to you.
3. Daniel Craig is not as stylish as ________ (Your choice of Bond here)
   See point 2.
4. Casino Royale is not as stylish/gadgety/______ (Your adjective here) as _______ (Insert name of a Bond movie)
   See point 2.

Oh by the way, did you know Casino Royale was written in 1953? You didn’t, did you? I figured…

Trivia:
In one of the scenes during the Poker tournament, Bond orders the bartender to make a drink for him. He proceeds to narrates the recipe from memory for about twenty seconds and ends with, …”shaken, not stirred.”

Yep, that is the famous ‘shaken-not-stirred’ Bond martini. The more observant of you may even have noted down the recipe during the movie.

Pass it on, if you did. :)

There’s nothing to tell. No direct or proximate cause. You just wake up one day and you aren’t a part of your life. You know this. Your life doesn’t belong to you. Your body is not, I don’t know how to make you feel the force of this, yours. There’s just life, living itself. You don’t have it. You don’t have anything to do with it. That’s all. It doesn’t sound like much, but believe me. It’s like when you hypnotize someone and persuade them there’s a big pile of mattresses outside their window. They no longer see a reason not to jump.

– Quoted by Kryzstof “Dubdub” Waterford-Wajda in “Fury“, by Salman Rushdie.

I no longer see a reason not to jump. And I haven’t even been hypnotized yet. No, not even self-hypnosis. What’s more, I even know for a fact that there are NO matressess outside my window. Yet, I no longer see a reason not to jump.

I read -no, make that devour- books or listen to music to pass my time. I drink insane amounts of coffee, and spend crazy money clogging up my system with carcinogenic substances.

I have a great job and a fantastic boss, and extremely supportive co-workers. I have great friends who are pursuing knowledgeable pursuits.

I talk to people who know what they are doing, who are masters in what they do. I learn from them, more than I ever learnt at the University, more than I could ever expect to learn. Heck, pretty soon I am gonna even become one of those people.

Yet, I feel incomplete, somehow.

There’s nothing to tell. No direct or proximate cause. I just woke up to-day and I ain’t a part of my life. I know this. My life does not belong to me. My body is not -I don’t know how to make you feel the force of this- mine. There’s just life, living itself. I don’t have it. I don’t have anything to do with it. That’s all. It doesn’t sound like much, but believe me. It’s like you hypnotized me and persuaded me there’s a big pile of mattresses outside my window. I no longer see a reason not to jump.

Should I jump?