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June 20, 2006
Diaries of M #1: How I Grew Up 5 Years In One Night
My sense of direction sucks big time. It used to suck a lot more till a couple of nights ago. I went to Toronto for a week, the reasons for which are yet under major investiations....and one night, after a little party I went to, I had to go back rather early to be able to catch the public transit to go back to York University.
So, after I was advised that it would take me about 15 minutes walk to this Bus/Subway station that would take me to York University, I decided to walk with my backpack and a carrying bag, specially since I had no idea how late one particualar bus that usually went to that station, was running till.
So, my supposed-to-be-15-minute walk took about 25 minutes. Then I found out that that bus that usually ran till then, wouldn't work on holidays till that late at night. After a while of thinking and hard direction-figuring-out self-debate, I took the subway to another station in which in the previous night, I had been able to catch a bus to my destination at around 2:15 and it was only about 12:30 at the time.
So, I did manage to take that bus, but the bus, after going for about 40 minutes, stopped in the middle of nowhere and I was the only passenger left on it. The bus driver came and literally shut down the bus. When I asked about it and wondered how I should go to where I wanted, he simply said he was off duty and that the bus wouldn't go to where I wanted. So I got off and waited for some other buses to come around. A few minutes after, one actually did come and I asked the driver. He thought for a bit and figured there's no way for me other than taking his bus, going to some other station, taking another one that would go close to the university and walk for a 'bit'. So I did that.
I got on that bus, got off a few stations after, got on another one, got off a while after and I was told that about 15 minutes of walking would get me to where I wanted. So I started walking.....
And I walked. and I walked. and I walked. I sang songs to myself. I thought about my poor little suitcase I was carrying on its wheels on the ground. I hoped its wheels wouldn't bail out on me. I thought about where I was. I thought about North, South, East, West. I thought about God. I thought about a girl I knew. I thought about how I thought about myself and how people thought about me. I thought about thieves. I thought about Hell and Heaven. I thought about how screwed up things can be. I thought about what I thought about the world and how it acutally might be.
So I walked for about 70 minutes...with my suitcase and carrying bag. And all my thinkings about direction and where I was, eventually got me to where I had to go. Well, not quite, but rather. I ended up walking for another half an hour after that to get to where I wanted. I survived and my sense of direction actually worked. With no Sun in the sky. With no one to help. And with no motivation to find the way.
My sense of direction is 5 years old now. It grew up all that in one night. Despite the commonly believed knowledge that brain doesn't develope new cells, I'm pretty sure a handful of new brain nerves were developed in the direction department of my brain. I have to celebrate this soon. Hopefully, all you who participated in this growing-up, can attend.
Nevertheless, after this great happening, I ended up going to Hamilton, where my friend picked me up and gave me a tour of the city in his car. Well, that was the start of an end. My newly developed brain cells in the direction-handling department, are going to starve to death for not being used, and all the food will go to the other sections that can be of an actual use for my well-being. It was a short life for these cells, nevertheless, a fruitfull life, full of joy and success. Let them rest in peace.
Posted by masoud at 09:23 PM | Comments (0)
June 13, 2006
Quarter Finals: Art vs Technique
What is Art ? Yes indeed, that's the first question to be answered after having a full stomach, isn't it !
I had a drawing teacher who I very much liked (in an innocent, good and orthodox way), and he once said "A masterpiece is a great idea, beautifully done". Most of the time, I used to think, having great ideas was the ultimate goal, but then, if those ideas are not put into practice well enough, then what's their point ?
Now, if you just have the technique to do something, let it be carpenting, playing music or painting, it's not art yet, until you incorporate some cool ideas into it. I don't personally consider a good guitar player an artist if he can just play it real fast, without making good tunes out of it. On the other hand, if someone can spit beautifully in some interesting way, that can be considered as art. Technique comes to help an idea be beautifully done, but just by itself, it doesn't have any aritistic value. Of course the border line is quite unclear and vague and sometimes it's hard to judge if something's art or just good technique.
Now, what Brazil football team does, is not a sport, but rather a form of art, no matter what the score, you enjoy watching its beauty, but Germany only has the technique. Or what Keyvan Saket plays, is not artistic Tar, but rather great technique with no spirit. On the other hand, Joe Satriani is an artist.
Posted by masoud at 08:57 PM | Comments (0)
June 09, 2006
Times Roman
Do you know the history behind Times Roman font that almost all of us use in typing and is the default on most computers ?
Well, from what I heard today, seems like it was designed by the British in the Times newspaper, as an engraved Roman-style alphabet to induce the belief that everything written in that newspaper is a true solid fact.
No wonder how the British are still ruling near a dozen other countries and looting them in a generally accepted official way. It's because they think about every single thing, unlike most of the other governments who go and see what happens next.
Posted by masoud at 09:34 PM | Comments (0)