In Defense of the Critic

Being a critic is a thankless job, most often. I admire real life critics who do it for a living. After all, it is the ultimate “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” profession¹. You are always going to hurt someone, cross someone off. Let me get straight to the point, for once, and only just this once.

I was accused, recently, of criticizing things far too much, having no authority in the fields I am criticizing people for, and while that is completely true, the premise is utter bullshit.

For the sake of coherence, which I doubt too many of my readers are comfortable with, I will go about this in logical sequence, another thing brainwashed sheep have difficulty doing. Having accepted the criticism that I have no authority in the fields I choose to criticize people in, the proposition on the table is that I should graciously accept defeat and cease any further attempts at criticizing things I do not understand. Well, I am willing to accept that proposition, but only as long as my one condition is met, and anyone with half a rational brain (again, it would appear I am singing to the tone deaf) would agree that what I am about to suggest isn’t too unfair.

So, all those of you, anxious to know the key to shutting me up, hear me well. The same rules must apply to you as well. Since none of you are authorities on music, movies, literature, politics, cars and practically everything under the sun, YOU HAVE TO SHUT THE FUCK UP as well. When you stop opining about how good the latest Michael Bay fiasco is, or how good Ledger’s joker was (oh, what a bitter-sweet was that is), or how great Michael Jackson’s mediocre song and dance styles really are (if you take out the pop out of it), then I will follow suit. When you admit that you have no basis to be showering laurels on these sorry excuses for “artists” and that you will forever purse your lips regarding your personal attempts to glorify these people, I will lay down my pen.

Before I end, I must clear the air. My comments on my facebook status message etc, about the mediocrity of the pedophilic Michael Jackson as an artist, were hardly to stir shit up. That is my true opinion. Would the world have lost out if Michael never sung a single note? Not mine. And while it is politically incorrect to diss the dead, I have never cared for being politically correct. So here is a big fuck you to Michael Jackson fans, and a vehement fuck you to Sacha Baron Cohen and Universal for bending over backwards. If you can’t handle the witty and not so witty snipes at “MJ” (funny, how that is so similar to OJ) then don’t fucking watch TV, don’t visit my blog and definitely DO NOT click on this next link.

Another contribution of MJ to pop-culture is definitely his contribution to costume design on movie sets, having inspired the alien in M. Shyamalan's Signs and the instantly noticeable Joker, from the crap-chute that was The Dark Knight.

Yes Michael, I know “You’re bad”. Now if we can only get rid of the Catholic Church, the kids will be safe.

And for those looking for a moment of sensitivity, Billy Mays just died last month as well. He will be missed. He did have a soothing voice. Or he just nagged the fuck out of you till you bought something. But he will still be missed by me; Funny guy.

1. Unfortunately, the professional critics are just whored out publicists. I have yet to come across a decent review of a “mega-hype” movie that does justice to the profession, whether it be favorable or not.
   
   
2. I was thinking about calling this post, “Fuck You, Michael Jackson”. Only one thing prevented me. The possibility that he really was a pedophile and that a title like that might be insensitive to the plight of the kids whose lives MJ touched.

Red, White and Brown Nosed

For a man that makes his living off stereotypes, Russell Peters does not notice the dichotomy of assaulting the media for using stereotypes for furthering agendas and propagandas. But for those people that like intelligent humor, be it the wit and sarcasm of Yes, Minister, or… the wit and sarcasm of George Carlin, you will instantly notice the fallacy of Peters’ chosen words. He is a part of the media. But unfortunately his ignorance is shown by his inability to take part of the blame, or it just shows his hypocrisy.

In his “new” act, “Red, White and Brown”, Russell Peters claims to have found himself a new voice; retiring old jokes. As usual, his act is confused as he shuttles between his identity of a North American and his “cheap” accented brown identity, and in that we can take solace, that Russell Peters is Indian, not just genetically, but even culturally.¹ He is a true hypocrite; One that would do Mother India proud.

Russell Peters is a cult comedian, like George Lopez, or Dane Cook, mediocre comedians targeting fringe audiences and cults that they have cultivated. Perhaps with respect to the specifics of the jokes Peters is “fresh” but considering the subject matter remains the same as his earlier acts (same jokes about Indian cheapness, about Chinese accents, about Italian machismo…). And while there is some humor to be found even in repetition, it can only go so far. If Red, White and Brown weren’t advertised as a “new act”, perhaps this would be a good extension of his earlier acts… and amusing². However, this blatant attempt to beguile audiences or just his ignorance as to what constitutes a “new act” takes out some of the fun of watching a mediocre comedian.

After all, it doesn’t hurt if you are eating an egg salad sandwich, knowing that it is an egg salad sandwich and nothing more. But when you are served an egg salad sandwich, all while you were expecting smoked salmon, then it is just disingenuous; and you have every right to take it as an insult to your intelligence. After all, you just paid for something more!

P.S. I watched it on YouTube; “The new home of piracy”.

NB:

1. Peter’s attempts to make the distinction between his genetically derived Indian-ness, such as his skin color, his physical attributes versus Indian personality traits (which he claims not to have) is a large part of the act as he discusses his trip to India. It is only laughable that he does not notice how he undermines his own point!


2. Notice the distinction between amusing and funny. A good knock-knock joke is funny. Repeating a good joke over and over again, is at best… amusing.

Pissing In The Wind

Holy Coca Co(w)la. The Colas are doomed!

India is the land of useless regulation. We are world leaders in double standards and NO standards. A blog I visit, recently had a post about how Indian products make unsubstantiated claims, which in first world countries would be unacceptable. But in the land of hindutva¹, hypocrisy and lack of regulation make a perfect couple and no valentine's day for them either.

So what is the connection between colas and Indian hypocrisy? Not the pesticide thing… I really don't care about that. So if the pesticide scandal and the prospect of impending fatality are not big enough to bring a multinational corporation down, then what is? Piss. Yes, urine, and not just any urine, the blessed and holy piddle emanating from the saviors of the world, beef. This wee-wee is being branded by none other than the saviors of bharat mata, the RSS. As if the great Indian rope trick, images of free roaming elephants and dung laden streets weren't bad enough for urban India, now this.

But this is just the tip of the iceberg. There are "doctors" and "scientists" that claim "research" on cow urine therapy has been performed to demonstrate its effectiveness.

"Our Aim is...

Our main aim and objective is to prevent and cure most of the diseases by applying a totally natural and highly effective new concept. We will be pround if we will be able to give some Relief to this world. We are trying to follow the path of serving humanity shown by God. We are trying to make this therapy much more simple and feasible."

In the face of this fundamentalist ignorance, I quote the words of my Goan brothers², "Aamcha Feni aamka jai, tujha mut tu pee" (roughly translated: "We want our feni, you drink your piss").

But before I end this post, I have a few questions. Will golden showers stop being a fetish in India and be part of the rejuvenation regiment? I guess you don't have to worry about taking a whiz in a pool anymore.

1. Hindutva isn't the only one I think is guilty of this hypocrisy, for the record.

2. I have never found any record of anyone having said this. As far as I know, the only person that has ever used this phrase is my uncle, Vijay Bijur. Therefore I attribute this to him.

His "story" goes like this. The slogan was raised by the goans during the prohibition era of Morarji Desai, who claimed that the reason of his good health was that he drank his own piss. As far as I know, this is a fabrication of his brilliant mind.

A Bitter Jealous Post

We are a species obsessed with instant gratification. From the Who Wants to be a Millionaire syndrome to the theist worshipers, everyone wants to get something that they are not willing to work for.

But we have started taking instant gratification to new extremes. The 15 minutes of fame syndrome, brought to its pinnacle, nay, summit (which has been diluted in meaning thanks to all the summit meetings of the bureaucracy), by the likes of youtube and dailymotion, lending credibility to talentless fucks, or demigods born out of pure showmanship (and hardly peer reviewed). But I kept telling myself, it didn’t matter; all the attention they were getting was useless in a world that runs on money, and in a world that forgets these under-achievers as swiftly as they created them (remember N’ Sync?).


But what happens when these acts of infantile imbecility provide with credible monetary gains? What do (ir?)-rational hardworking people do, when they see someone work half as hard (if at all) and living their dreams? I am talking, of course, about Matt, of “Where the hell is Matt” fame.


Sure, all you blue eyed, youtube yuppies and junkies and whatever else’s will be quick to jump to his aid, defending his intentions to be noble, enamored by the other worldly music of his videos, proving my point once again.


For a person who claims to be doing this for the thrill and enjoyment of traveling and soaking in cultures and all that nice sounding stuff, tell me, what would the purpose of publishing a video and a website be? Oh, you don’t think it is for the monetary gain that instant (if even fleeting) stardom brings? Well, Stride gum, is a sponsor. Guess what sponsors do? They pay you money. What for? Hmmm… lets see… putting a small little link to their website on your site and videos, mentioning them a few times in your travels, perhaps passing on a few sticks of gum even, heck whatever gets the name out there.

Oh yes, there is the inevitable argument, “so what if he gains from his previous journeys?”. Well, what is wrong, is the fact that there are at least a handful of people out there that are doing the same sans the retarded dance, but you don’t see them getting sponsorship deals!


I will end with a disclaimer; this is not a shot at the “shooting stars” that the internet breeds, it is a reflection of the society that allows mediocrity to breed. We create stars out of nobodies, and revel at our ability and achievement at having done so, while letting the true achievers fade away silently, unnoticed. And to the naïve that ask, “what harm is coming of it?”; we harm ourselves by the propagation of the phenomenon, by making “future generations” think that it is somehow more glorious to be remembered for something unoriginal, something marketed, outwardly glossy and substantially tepid, than to push the limits of our human intelligence.

Butter-fry Effect.

The insignificant flutter of a butterfly’s wings on the remotest corners¹ of the earth may be elemental in the production of large disasters. The mystique of cause-effect relationships that seem outwardly unconnected is explained by the butterfly effect. But so potent is this perception that its agents are visible in every facet of our lives, on every avenue.

Even so, on my first work related “road trip”, leaving as early as 5 A.M. for Wisconsin, the work of this miraculous agent was quite visible.

Road trips have often been a topic of Hollywood flicks, from the absurdly retarded Road Trip series to much more endearing dramas, these movies offer a snapshot into country America.

As dissociated as events in some of these movies may be to real life, they mimic life in the most uncanny of ways. They cross barriers, geographic, cultural and perhaps even economic. I am, of course, talking about “rest stops”.

But as we stopped for breakfast, the reality of the butterfly effect and its unpleasant bedfellow; globalization, dawned on me. The oasis we had breakfast at a glaring example of the adulteration of our modern day lives by the whorifying enabler of globalization; Consumerism. With McDonalds at the right, taco bell to the left and everything in between a sampling of the finest in franchise cuisine America has to offer. As we embrace the gifts of globalization, the cost-cutting it affords us, we choose to ignore the local businesses that rely on our continued patronage for survival.

But in our pursuit of wealthiness, we have let slip the very essence that made those movies endearing. The small town cafes, bistros, pancake houses, moronically replaced by corporate food cloners that serve only to stifle the creativity that makes us unique, the servers grudgingly serving a daily dish of rude awakening. As we pinch pennies, filling the coffers of big business, we pay the ultimate price as we let them control our lives, our choices, our individualism; and effectively our freedom. I guess this fast paced life will overwhelm the abilities of our generation to sample the diversity of human evolution as we zombify our very existence.

Note:
1. A turn of phrase, obviously, originating in the day of old world "knowledge" where the earth was flat. Just as we keep the phrase and its intended meaning in spite of dispelling the darkening myth that gave birth to it, so it isn't entirely inconceivable for an atheist like me to use common phrases of language that invoke the imaginary supernatural being that supposedly gave birth to all that exists.

You have been warned. The next person to question the hypocrisy of using these phrases gets punched in the face.