Porcupine Tree's Sound of Muzak

This is the first song I heard of this band, and I keep coming back to it, for its drumming and strumming that mesmerizes me. The other fascinating thing about this song is its lyrics, which talks of music, and its industry. I won't go into trying to dissect it all, but would like you to have a listen:

Hear the sound of music
Drifting in the aisles
Elevator Prozac
Stretching on for miles

The music of the future
Will not entertain
It's only meant to repress
And neutralise your brain

Soul gets squeezed out
Edges get blunt
Demographic
Gives what you want

Now the sound of music
Comes in silver pills
Engineered to suit you
Building cheaper thrills

The music of rebellion
Makes you wanna rage
But it's made by millionaires
Who are nearly twice your age

And the chorus goes:

One of the wonders of the world is going down 

It's going down I know 

It's one of the blunders of the world that no one cares 

No one cares enough

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Word of the Day: Malapropism

malapropism 

   [mal′ə präp′iz′əm]  .  noun

1. Using the wrong word for something, especially one that sounds similar.
   
   
   An example of malapropism was Archie Bunker from the American television sitcom All in the Family saying "Patience is a virgin," when he meant to say "Patience is a virtue."

I had often seen this at work and reading articles online, and often while I am typing myself. Most common ones at work are:
   STUFF, instead of STAFF, and
   CARRIER instead of CAREER
and the one from this morning's reading:
   PROSPECTIVE instead of PERSPECTIVE

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Worlds Within Worlds

There are a few worlds we reside in, different realities when you enter one room or turn into a road. My work hours are spent in a world where I have a 6th floor view of lots of trees and smaller buildings, and a great big sky. Within that ecosystem I have the respect of a team I command and colleagues I confer with to create the solutions we were hired to.

To get to work, I have to take a rickshaw ride over broken roads, over puddles if there was rain, behind men who have separate realities themselves. Some have faces that show desperation, others a defiant arrogance. From the rickshaw I walk among other workers making their way to their workplaces sometimes stopping to have our suspicious and fishy 'law enforcers' search my bag to ensure the security of the masses. These men have their own realities, their own stories that shaped them.

This weekend I went to a garage for my car, on a street that I once crossed many times to get to work before. When driving into it this time, I was surprised that I was blocking incoming traffic. The two lane road was reduced to one by those massive dumpsters laid along haphazardly, and of course with a great amount of garbage lying outside them. Once I stopped at the garage, it was right opposite a couple of them, and the stench was unbearable, at least at first.

Since I had to be there, I got used to it, like the mechanics who work on that corner everyday. You can see the people passing by hold their noses and breath as they pass them. For someone who'd be there for a couple of hours, holding ones breath is not an option. There are a few buildings around there and from one came out one man with his child on his colorful bicycle with safety wheels. Poor kid is also used to this unholy surroundings, and has to have his play time in it.

This was another world, where there were other worlds in it. Soon after the Friday Jummah prayers were over, the roads were a little barren, and suddenly a few kids appeared. Each about 3.5' tall, they were still wearing panjabis, suggesting they had been to the mosque a while ago. What they were doing there at the time, was another unholy thing. These puny human beings were mouthing each other off, with insults that involved their mothers. As one hurled one insult describing what he would do, the other came back with something more sinister. Those were the rules of the game I suppose, and for this surrounding it made no difference to its inhabitants, only to the alien who was visiting with his problems from another world.

Another excerpt from City of Joy:
[Voice of Musafir Prasad] 'I knew that to do my job properly, I needed a heart of stone like my boss. How else would I be able to claim the five- or six-rupee hiring fee from some poor sod whose carriage [rickshaw] hadn't budged from the spot. I knew that some days many of them would have to go without food to pay me. Poor fellows! How are you supposed to pull two clients and all their parcels or two fat women from one of the rich neighborhoods with nothing in our stomach? Every day pullers collapsed on the street. And each time some fellow couldn't get back on his feet, I had to look for a replacement. Thank God there was no shortage of candidates!

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Word of the Day: Euphony

eu·pho·ny

[yoo-fuh-nee]

noun, plural eu·pho·nies.

agreeableness of sound; pleasing effect to the ear, especially a pleasant sounding or harmonious combination or succession of words: the majestic euphony of Milton's poetry.

[Source: Dictionary.com]

I picked it up from a forum where I guess it was wrongfully used in place of 'epiphany'. The definition to be defines the effect of reading Edgar Allan Poe.

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Art of Talking (or Spaking*)

From watching this program to that during this eid holiday, a noticeable thing was the way people on TV are talking. Being able to describe someone as 'articulate' is tough these days, unless you have someone like Abdullah Abu Sayeed as a guest or presenter. There are not just problems with phrasing and vocabulary, but also with pronunciations. A regional dialect is hardly meant for a national TV channel anywhere in the world, but even from our news reporters, we hear such speech.

During a better part of the morning, we were mesmerized by the stories told by Saadi Mohammad on '71 - Ekattor TV's Facebook Page (a channel), on a live music show hosted by Alif Alauddin. The show was very entertaining where the songs were being presented on the self-narrated timeline of Saadi Mohammad's life (though prompted by the host), starting with his childhood, to first growing a liking to Tagore music after hearing Hemanta Mukherjee on the radio, to his time at Santiniketon as a student and so on. He also mentioned how pronunciation was an issue with some of his students. People may tell me off for criticizing someone for having a dialect on the news, but what happens when people are trying to sing a song? It makes for temporary comedy, but on a larger scheme of things, its sad. Saadi Mohammad himself mentioned at that point of the show, that its nice to hear someone articulating thoughts and emotions properly, especially for singers and people on television, but really, for everyone (even a prime minister, he proceeded to mention).

Having seen that, when later at night, we see an interview of Ananta Jalil by Munni Shaha, its frustrating.

Ananta Jalil, with all his money and stunts, thinks he has found the formula for good movies, and is out there to claim that he is a properly educated inidividual who has passed O' and A' Levels, and has a bachelors in business (BBA) from the UK (though its commonly known that they provide BComm and not BBA). These claims are meant to throw off everyone who says he has pronunciation poblems (he is often heard with a silent 'r' when it should appear after a 'p') in both Bangla and English.

On the other side of the ring was Munni Shaha, who is a senior reporter for ATN News, and conducts a lot of interviews. Ignoring her annoying nasal voice and frequent 'ehhh's when shes browsing her vocabulary mid-sentence, she (like a few others) has a habit of trying to put words into the mouths of her guests. All in all, it was a pretty bad show of where we are, and who gets to be on our 'media'.

Thats another thing, I see a lot of so-called celebrities, refer to themselves as 'people of the media'. I don't get that! Its like they are trying to elevate themselves to somewhere or something, their own little planet. It just sounds weird to me.

Related:

* Ananto Jalil @ Radio Foorti 88.0 - with English Subtitle

Lawmakers should talk and behave with dignity says Prof Abdullah Abu Sayeed

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Quote of the Day

Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results.

Albert Einstein

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Quote of the day

This morning I took out a comma and this afternoon I put it back again. 
 Oscar Wilde

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The Lunatic is on the Grass

Here is Roger Waters singing "Brain Damage" in a studio for the Making of the Dark Side of the Moon documentary.

The lunatic is on the grass
Remembering games
And daisy chains and laughs
Got to keep the loonies on the path

The lunatic is in the hall
The lunatics are in my hall
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more

And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon

The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade
You make the change
And you rearrange me 'till I'm sane
You lock the door
And throw away the key
And there`s someone in my head, but it's not me

And if the cloud bursts thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon

Roger Waters explains in that documentary that a "Do not step on the grass" sign inspired him to write this song. Society lays down the rules - some explicit, and some implicit which comprise an overall structure in which to operate. But often the rules make no sense to some. And to others, those who oppose them make no sense - they are criminals or lunatics. Interestingly, the bauls of Bangla also commonly sang describing themselves as "pagol" or "pagla" (lunatics, mad men). It does seem that they derived that title for themselves from what people around them were saying about them. They were on the grass.

জাত গেল জাত গেল বলে
একি আজব কারখানা
সত্য কাজে কেউ নয় রাজী
সবই দেখি তানা না না।।

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Junk Mail Greatest Hits

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Random

Patriotism
has a loud voice, but no strength in its heart.

Its an agenda that wins elections.

Its a festival that comes maybe twice a year.

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Random. Less is More

less is More

Pointless. Gutless. Careless.

Powerless.

Penniless.

Worthless.

Clueless. Shoeless. Mindless.

Formless. Listless.

Speechless.

God Bless

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Time

Ticking away
The moments that make up a dull day
[Time, Pink Floyd]

Time. What is it? It is one thing which to me is boundless. It will carry on even when my body has stopped and maybe have dissolved into the ground. It is what we use to measure our lives. The tick tock of clock hands and the silent displays of the digital clocks its servants, lashing a whip on my back everytime I let things slip.

Not exactly.

Time is the one slipping between my fingers like sand while i clench harder to hold on to it. I want to make it go with me, arms around shoulders like buddies with nothing better to do but stroll around a busy street, make jokes and checking out ladies.
Me: "Oh she's nice!"
Time: "No! I like her..."

Thats not happening either.

Today while returning from the library I nearly walked into a car coming out of an obscure corner. But the driver stopped and nodded at me to pass. People have time for people. That is wonderful to see. It reminded me quickly of Dhaka, in 2004 I think, when a car almost got touchy touchy cause me and Ashu (who was visiting from UK) were walking on the side of the road! Not even a rude honk to let us know its behind, just crept up behind us too close for comfort. And to make the situation totally priceless I was telling Ashu at that moment how people in Bangladesh seem to have no time for other people anymore. Just busy with themselves. Oh Well.

Time management is big business now even. If I could afford it, I don't know whether I would get a consultant into my life or something. I totally am bad at it (trying to avoid "sucks"). I am sleepy for more than half of each day, which I have a feeling might be helped if i start getting physically active again. Maybe get into squash (too expensive) or jogging (too boring). Maybe.

Well, come to think of it, even as i am typing out this post, i am actually wasting my time! Considering how far behind i am with my term project's work. So, Maybe i will try to be wiser for the moment.... and... i am outta here.

Meanwhile,

Time, by Pink Floyd:

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it’s sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but you’re older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the english way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I’d something more to say

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
It’s good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.

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Quote of the Day

The internet is a wonderful place, because here you can learn that Albert Einstein once said:

The hardest thing in the world to understand is the income tax
[Originally stumbled on at http://jscience.org]

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baal

'baal' is the word in hindi for hair, but in our language its the slang for pubic hair. Also it serves as a medium for many for the release of frustration, like the use of 'shit' almost, from English. but we dare not say it in front of anyone but friends, its not as popular as 'shit'. I could get away with saying 'shit' but not 'baal'.

A friend once tried to use 'hagu', a literal translation of 'shit' to bangla, in everyday speech. He came up with phrases like 'haga diyna' to substitute 'i don't give a shit'.

anyway, i was having an avalanche of words in my head last night and i was trying to write a song with them... in the end i ended up with prose that probably cannot be put into a song, and i dare not call it poetry. i named it 'baal' and dedicated it to two of my friends who i was missing all of a sudden. they would usually be the first to sample my songs. they would be my thesaurus and dictionary and translator of english and thoughts..whatever. my vocabulary is shamefully low... english or bangla.

i went to the Gothenburg city library again yesterday. Returned the first book that amiga Alma had shoved at my face (kindly suggested) ... it was Factotum by Charles Bukowski... which i liked a lot.. it was a simple experience, didn't have to run to the dictionary or think .. deeply. :) This time i got Erasure/Fuck by Percival Everett, Nickelback's Live At Home DVD and a comic by Harvey Pekar and Robert ...someone.... the time at the library was almost like swimming. I put my head under the water... swim around, and then peek for air and go back in.... I kinda dragged Quamruzzaman bhai in with me too.. he ended up getting membership and borrowed this atlas on europe and a bangla book! this library seems to have a collection of many foreign books!

I read the comic first... not the whole of it of course... just till i fell asleep! then after finishing dinner preparations watched Nickelback. I think they suck mildly. they have good riffs and all.. but lyrics wise... and performance wise... not great. Chad has a great voice though.

And after struggling on my guitar for a while.. i went to bed and started reading on the novel. Last thing i remember was getting amused and at the same time thinking about why i was reading someone's made up story.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

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Evolution of speech

Surely many of the parents of current 20 year olds had a hard time coping with words like 'cool' and 'phatt'. And now there is a new one on the block. It spells S I C K!
so say goodbye to: "Wow thats cool!" and say hello to "Man! thats sick!". No temperature and no pills... sick is now a good thing!

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