Showing posts with label narrative. Show all posts
Showing posts with label narrative. Show all posts

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Sunday, November 29, 2009

reprise: "Who knows where the time goes" - Nina Simone


somehow, this version of "who knows where the time goes" feels like a perfect transition from our theosophical musings (in the blogosphere and the twitterverse) to something more... tactile isn't the right word...

moving from my last post, to my next post - Nina just makes sense.

Saturday, November 07, 2009

the songs in my head: Wonder Girls: "Nobody"


i'm loving this so much right now! korean girls rock!

got the song as a gift from Peter (aw schweet) and totally fell in love with it's sing-along chorus. the video's a bit on the long side - but it tells a nifty story ;0)

love from formosa,
w

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Hell hath... well... nothing, by the looks of it

You gotta love this guys explanation of Hell...
The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term.

The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well:

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.

As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell.

With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.

This gives two possibilities:
  1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
  2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct... leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."

This Student Received The Only "A".

Sunday, September 07, 2008

WΔZ

this is not a review.

The Price equation (also known as Price's equation) is a covariance equation which is a mathematical description of evolution and natural selection. The Price equation was derived by George R. Price, working in London to rederive W.D. Hamilton's work on kin selection.


Running time: 104 mins
Starring: Stellan Skarsgard, Melissa George, Ashley Walters, Selma Blair

now i'm probably not the best movie critic in the world - but there's something about this movie that makes me want to tell you about it.

WΔZ is brittish film noir where i least expected it. if you like your movies to be largely self-explanatory, you're going to hate this one. Tom Shankland (director) doesn't breast feed you with his feature film debut. i'm not exactly sure what he does. but it's still preying on my mind.

there's some blood, some gore, grime and questionable acting - but the implication i picked up on at the end of the movie threw me completely.

no, i don't think it's the best movie ever. in fact, a few minutes into the movie i was convinced that i'd thoroughly hate it. you'll probably think so too - even afterwards. watch it, though. because i want you to.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

High School Musicals take me back

We went to see a local High School's production of Rogers & Hammerstein's "The Sound of Music" on Friday - and I must admit to rather enjoying the whole affair. The singing wasn't especially horrible and most of the kids had more than 4 facial expressions. (That makes 4 more than Richard Gere.)

Basically, babe, your Pa should go Nazi.
The Von Trapp family decides to sing.
But the Nazi was cute...
Elsa tried her best to get Max to stand still.
Whenever she got nervous, Maria imagined them all wearing curtains.

Friday, April 11, 2008

amen sister!

now here's a quote that actually makes me want to go to new york and flaunt my pantones!

New Yorkers Are Ultra-Sensitive About Color
Guy at bar: And so I keep trying to tell my wife that sienna is not a color.
Girl passing by: Yes it is! Burnt sienna is a crayon you slanderous prick!

--Restaurant, Bleecker Street
via Overheard in New York, Apr 11, 2008

Monday, March 10, 2008

Felicia Anonymous (from David's Very Short Novels)

Tell it to me any way you like but don’t stop talking. Please. I hear what I need to hear. We’ll make a deal. I’ll dunk this misshapen donut into this bad coffee and chew on this cigarette and not get drunk for an hour. And not talk back. I’ll thank my precious life for the sound of your voice; meanwhile, you tell your version of the story we all know all too well. What a lousy chair this is. I’d like to put it and its short leg through a window. But that would be wrong. It wouldn’t show the gratitude I feel. And anyway, rooms like these don’t have windows for the same reason bars don’t have windows. Oh, Felicia. Each day is more exhausting than the day before, then you get up and say your name and what you are and talk. Outside, we do nothing but get in each other’s way, you and me and all the others; here we sit in neat rows and face in the same direction, looking at you to help us in your turn. Hi, Felicia. You tell your stupid story of how you stupidly complicate your stupid problems, too stupid to see you cause them yourself and I swear on my life one more time that coming here is worse than any other problem I have and that I’ll never be back. And then I come back. If the meetings were held upstairs, Felicia, I’d have to go somewhere else, but in the basement at least there are no icons and we take our turns on the cross. I may have turned a corner, Felicia. The stupid things you say are starting to sound like the stupid things I say. Maybe I’m not the smartest drunk in the room.

Copyright © March 02, 2008 David Hodges
Felicia Anonymous « Very Short Novels

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Friday, February 22, 2008

Funny joke, but...

A woman has an affair during the day while her husband is at work. Her nine-year-old son comes home unexpectedly, sees the illegal lovers and hides in the bedroom cupboard to watch. Then the woman's husband unexpectedly comes home.

She hides her lover in the cupboard, not realizing that her little boy is in there already.
The little Boy says: "Dark in here."
The Man says: "Yes, it is."
Boy: "I have a soccer ball, do you want to buy it?"
Man: "No, thanks."
Boy: "My dad's outside, I'll call him if you don't buy it!"
Man: "OK, how much?"
Boy: "R250-00."

A few weeks later it happened again and the boy and the lover were in the cupboard together again.
Boy: "Dark in here".
Man: "Yes, it is."
Boy: "I have soccer boots."
The Man, remembering the last time, asks the boy: "How much?"
The Boy says:"R750-00."
The Man says: "Fine, I will buy them."

A few days later, the Father says to the boy: "Grab your ball and boots, let's go outside and have a game."
The Boy says: "I can't, I sold them for R1000."
The Father says: "That's terrible to overcharge your friends like that... R1000 is way more than those two things cost. I'm going to take you to church and make you confess your sins." They go to church and the father makes the little boy sit in the confession booth and he closes the door.

The Boy says: "Dark in here."
The Priest says: "Don't start that sh!t again! This is my church and not your father's house
!”

----------------------------

I got this joke in my inbox today - gave me a good giggle. But the punch-line bugged me, somehow. I tried to shrug it off and get some work done - but the gnawing in my mind kept getting worse.

I finally gave up and tried to figure out what was going on. Then it hit me:

"This is My church and not your Father's House..."

Now I'm not going to make a soap-box moment of this - but I realized that this sentence holds the key to a great revelation. I'm still hacking at the lock, but it feels like most of the unhappiness in the world is caused by a similar mentality:

This is MY church and NOT your Father's House.
This is MY presidency, MY company, MY rules...

The answer to serenity, peace and harmony is, of course, the antithesis:

"This is NOT my church, but your Father's House."

May God, as you understand God, reclaim the Place you need from those who deny you yourself.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Breakfast at McDonald's

This is a good story (and is apparently true).

"I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3) and have recently completed my college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. Our lecturer was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with. Her last project of the term was called: "Smile". The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reactions.

I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say hello anyway. So, I thought this would be a piece of cake, literally.

Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonald's one crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special playtime with our son. We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and theneven my husband did. I did not move an inch... an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved. As I turned around I smelled a horrible "dirty body" smell, and there standing behind me were two poor homeless men. As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was "smiling". His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God's Light as he searched for acceptance.

He said, "Good day" as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally challenged and the blue-eyed gentleman was his salvation. I held my tears as I stood there with them.

The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. He said, "Coffee is all Miss" because that was all they could afford. (If they wanted to sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something. He just wanted to be warm.) Then I really felt it - the compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes. That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me, judging my every action.

I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue-eyed gentleman's cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, "Thank you." I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, "I did not do this for you. God is here working through me to give you hope."

I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, "That is why God gave you to me, Honey, to give me hope." We held hands for a moment and at that time, we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given, were we able to give.

We are not church goers, but we are believers. That day showed me the pure Light of God's sweet love.

I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand. I turned in "my project" and the instructor read it. Then she looked up at me and said, "Can I share this?" I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to read and that is when I knew that we as human beings - and being part of God - share this need to heal people and to be healed. In my own way I had touched the people at McDonald's, my son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student. I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn: Unconditional acceptance.

Much love and compassion is sent to each and every person who may read this and learn how to Love people and use things - not to love things and use people.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Mark Twain on Memetics

Not sure how memes work?
This Wikipedia entry might help as well:

"A Literary Nightmare" is a short story written by Mark Twain in 1876. The story is about Twain's encounter with a virus-like jingle, and how it occupies his mind for several days until he manages to "infect" another person, thus removing the jingle from his mind. The story was also later published under the name "Punch, Brothers, Punch!"

The story is significant in that it is a fairly accurate description of a meme, and how it can replicate itself in a short time, thus acting like a virus in some respects.

(In a nutshell, the story goes a little something like this)

The narrator, Mark Twain, sees a catchy jingle in the morning newspaper. The jingle promptly attaches itself to his mind, such that he loses concentration and can no longer remember what he ate for breakfast, whether he ate at all, and what words he was going to use in his novel. The jingle mentally incapacitates him, until, a few days later, he takes a walk with his friend, the Reverend, and inadvertently transfers the jingle to the reverend's mind. As this happens, Twain experiences a sense of relief, and returns to his normal life.

Some days after Twain was cured, the Reverend visits him; he is in a terrible state, as the jingle, which keeps on repeating in his head, has already disabled his concentration. He tells Twain of some incidents where the rhythm of the jingle influenced his actions, such as when churchgoers started swaying to the rhythm of his homilies. Taking pity on the man, Twain decides to cure him, and brings him to a meeting of university students. The Reverend successfully manages to transfer the jingle from himself to the students, curing himself and, at the same time, continuing the diabolical cycle of the jingle.

Thursday, November 08, 2007

MadV - inspire

I've missed the Nov 5 deadline for the Remember project . Wasn't all too happy with myself - but then I realized that 5 Nov wasn't a deadline - it was the birth of a project.

After seeing MadV's latest video - I'm amped as ever to get it together!

Friday, October 12, 2007

Raising the Dead: trying to phone a South African Governmental Department


Here's a brief glimpse of what it's like trying to communicate with the South African Government. I've spent hours on the phone waiting for the Department of Home Affairs to just ANSWER THE PHONE!! "Batho Pele" my ass.

Friday, October 05, 2007

Woof Wan-Bau's art

"Superflat is a postmodern art movement, founded by the artist Takashi Murakami, which is influenced by manga and anime. In a response to the homogenisation of Japanese media and art, “Superflat” attempts to critique the vacuity of post-war Japanese culture, including criticisms of the otaku lifestyle, consumerism, and related issues." Wikipedia

Up until this morning, I was blissfully unaware of the Superflat art movement. Thanks to Jockohomo's blog - I've been introduced to the work of Woof Wan-Bau. This particular video (for lack of a better term) still has me in its grip.

Right now I'm dying to read "Superflat and Otaku Nationalism", a paper presented at MOCA gallery at the Pacific design Center, West Hollywood, on 5 April 2001. Especially after seeing this:


"An ad campaign for LOUIS VUITTON by Mamoru Hosoda. an updated alice in wonderland, in which a girl, searching for her lost cell phone, floats in a dizzying world of the company's logos. While waiting to meet her friends outside of a Louis Vuitton store, Aya's cell phone is eaten by the LV Panda, who then promptly swallows Aya - but the inside of his stomach is gateway to a psychedelic wonderland. Based on characters created by famed superflat artist Takashi Murakami." YouTube

Correct me if I'm wrong - but isn't the Superflat art movement anti-consumerist in nature? How horribly fascinating it is to see the perversion of another manifesto by (seemingly all powerful) consumerism.

what do you want the world to remember?

On the 5th of November you are invited to post a video about what encompasses you as a person, what inspires you, what brings you hope, and most importantly those little things that you may have forgotten.

You may choose any topic, any idea, any person, event or place that you feel people need reminding of. You can use any style and any method to get your message of remembrance across.

The aim of this project is to gather together people from all over the world on one unique day to celebrate the important things that we forget, and to remind each other of what we need to keep ideas alive.

Get ready, be creative - but please don't post until the 5th November.

Remember, remember
Chin up,
MadV

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

and then they do this

Ich+ Ich - Du erinnerst mich an Liebe.

This has to be one of the most beautiful music videos I've seen in a very, very long time. "You remind me of love"

Saturday, September 01, 2007

just now a homo saved my life from a broken heart

just now a homo saved my life with a song!
again, thank you to Perez Hilton for introducing me to Sia Furler.


I just ordered her album. "Breathe Me" is probably one of the most amazing indie songs I've ever heard!

This is Sia's bio on her space: http://www.myspace.com/siamusic

"my name is sia furler. i am a unicorn fart. i was born out of the butthole of a unicorn called steve. someday i'll die. between now and then i'm going to keep my shit together and sing my fucking heart out. i love dogs. they're my people. one day i'll write a real biography."

also check out: http://www.siamusic.net/

Friday, August 17, 2007

Perfume



Perfume: The Story of a Murderer | Official Perfume Movie Site | Perfume

Visually, this rendition of the novel is magnifficent! Add to that genius in storytelling - and you have a winner!

Feel free to check out the site as well - and crank up the volume! The score is amazing!!

Blogged with Flock

Thursday, May 31, 2007

davidbdale_rocks!

Future Perfect « Very Short Novels

Do yourselves an immense favour and click through to this blog! If the catch phrase: "299 words each. Anything more is a waste" doesn't grab you - this speciffic 'Very Short Novel' most definitely will.