Adzilla: IndiGo's Musical Ad

I know, this one is a little old, but I can't not pay attention to it.

Wow! What a blockbuster ad!

IndiGo Airlines releases this ad to announce their new international flights. The ad is in the form of a musical, starring the pilot and all his supporting crew, including ground staff, control room staff, and charming air hostesses. They all sing about the efficiency and international reach of the airlines. And if you haven't seen it yet, you simply must watch the ad here.

Grand. What a beautiful Broadway feel. The coreography is excellent, and the dancers are superb. The air hostesses are really hot. The stage design is wonderful, with a beautiful use of bright lights and complementing colors (blues, blacks, browns, golds...). The cinematography is great, like the quick zoom-ins at certain points. The music and the lyrics are catchy (the song is inspired by the number "I Am The Very Model of a Modern Major General" from the 1983 Gilbert & Sullivan operetta "The Pirates of Penzance"). The TVC has been shot in Los Angeles, directed by Steven Antin, director of the Christina Aguilera musical feature Burlesque, and choreographed by Denise Faye of Chicago fame. This is a highly entertaining ad.

I love the grandiosity, which is obviously tongue-in-cheek. The use of grandeur to relay a simple message has always been to me a humorous thing, and subtly so. In the meantime, the ad broadcasts its message of the international flights and relays with panache and utmost style the message of the complete efficiency of all its staff, metaphorized by the minute detail and synchronization of a musical. I am reminded of their previous ad which I also liked, the "Conveyor Belt" TVC that again metaphorized their efficiency quite creatively. But if I liked that ad, then I love this one (and yes, I am a fan of Glee).

The target audience, in my opinion, seems to be the "upper" middle class (which I say for lack of a better term). I mean to say the educated middle class that is indoctrinated enough with Western culture. (Please excuse the use of the word "upper," I did not mean to sound conceited). The "Star World" class, if you will. They are the ones who would benefit most from this communication, the ones who can afford this service, and would most likely be the only ones understanding this communication.

So let's break it down:

Good:

• Very creative. Rises high above the clutter. I cannot praise enough the execution of this ad. I love it. (And that's what matters the most).
• Effective use of the metaphor of choreographed precision to make an entertaining ad and get across a message.
• The humor is there in the delivery. An entire musical? It's a bit much, yes? Perhaps that's the point.
• Hot air hostesses. I mean really hot. And the smiles they give.
• Choreography. Set design. Cinematography. Lyrics and song. Very crisp (they did get some of the best to help). 

Bad:

• It's too "English." While getting the words was no problem for me, not everyone got more than a few words here and there. Such was the opinion expressed by much of the ad fraternity. It raises the question, who exactly is the ad for? The message may be missed.
• The ad is too Hollywood. Too Broadway. Granted the song is taken from a Broadway musical, but does it strike a chord with a majority of the Indian public (even keeping in mind the target audience)? Probably a Bollywood version would have resonated with the TG more, and a wider audience as well. Subtitles could have helped too (another widely expressed opinion).
• They don't talk enough about the international flights! Where do they go? It's left to the consumer to find that out. But perhaps it was a small (a very large small) sacrifice to make to keep the integrity of the ad).

The agency was Wieden+Kennedy. Read more insights from professionals about this ad from here, here, and here.

Porngate? What A Fail

Indian politicians are the biggest attention-seekers in the world. They get attention even when they don't want it.

A few days ago (8th Feb), three Karnataka BJP ministers (now ex-ministers) were caught watching porn on a mobile phone during an assembly debate.

My immediate reaction was one of hilarity. Getting caught watching porn, that too during an assembly debate? Classic. It also proved irrevocably to me that:

\m/ BOYS WILL BE BOYS \m/

A media storm ensued after that. The three ministers- CC Patil, Laxman Savadi, and Krishna Palemar- stepped down to save face for their party, because the BJP would not force them to as a matter of principle (as if we can't see right through that). Patil is in fact the minister for women and child development. The hilarity doesn't end there: Savadi went so far as to cut the lights in his constituency so his people wouldn't watch news coverage of his innocent, I mean indecent, act. When he allowed electricity to return in the night, the cable was predictably still out. And he still maintains that they were mainly doing "research" on what rave parties were all about. (And millions of little boys around the world are on their way to becoming anatomy experts as well).

The media has not dropped this. Why should they? It's fodder to fill in between news about the UP State Polls and updates on Yuvraj Singh's health. It's gold! Who doesn't love a good porn controversy, particularly the so-called conservatives that are we Indians?

The timing couldn't have been more perfect either. Porn had a huge promotional run just recently when Sunny Leone was a guest on Big Boss.

But let's get serious for a second: all this hoopla, all this condemnation from all corners, all this rushing to take the high moral ground... it's boring.

First of all, I DON'T CARE IF THEY WERE WATCHING PORN. I mean, sure, it's funny, but who gives a crap? What does worry me is that they weren't paying attention during a supposedly important debate. What does worry me is that is what my taxes are going for. I don't care if he was jerking off or solving a Rubik's cube, I want my elected representatives to fucking PAY ATTENTION in assembely. Because if they're not doing their job, the country is continuing to deteriorate. This, according to me, should be the real issue. But everyone seems more concerned about the content of the mobile.

Second, I don't understand all this hulabaloo over getting the ministers to quit. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they were efficient ministers. So does this tiny little act undermine their abilities so much? Do they by default become completely inept? I understand that ministers are supposed to be "model leaders," but no matter from which part of the world people come from, their DNA is almost the same, and boys will be boys. I'm more worried about ministers who have people murdered. Who openly rape the people's resources, who steal our money. I'm worried about completely inept officials in positions of power, just waiting for the next paycheck to come. I'd take 10 porn-watching but effective officials over a corrupt, inept bastard any day.

Meh. It's all about having ammo against the opposition anyway. In another rib-tickling twist, Karnataka ritualistically sends out "moral police" to harass couples on occasions like Valentines Day. They have a pretty low tolerance for open displays of affection or even attraction to the opposite sex, because that's so unnatural. And here we have three of their sons depicting the most human nature possible. After all, "to deny our most basic impulse is to deny the very thing that makes us human."

It kind of makes me think. And then it just makes me laugh again.

The Perils of Supporting Manchester United

Wannabes. Glory hunters. Idiots.

And these are some of the nice terms that Utd fans are often greeted with. I cannot imagine the plight of Utd supporter in England, especially during these trying times, but that of one on the subcontinent isn't a walk in the park either, and the derision we face in India shows no sign of abating.

Ah, but fuck that. Glory glory Man Utd. What a team! What a club! What a history, what a legacy. It's all there... pride, trophies, flair, and yes the inevitable arrogance. Oh, I'm sorry, that's the wrong word.

It is only natural to hate a rival club, and Utd has plenty (of rivals). It is also only natural to hate the champions when your team are not they. However, this makes for a unique situation in India. What right do we have to declare love and devotion to an English football team? We have no local nor familial (inherited support, like our children will have) obligation to support the club. We are thousands of miles away, far removed from the cold and the rain and the chants of rival supporters. Add to that the fact that in India, the first match that most people have seen is that fateful '99 Champions League final, which Utd clinched in the dying minutes, immediately creating a huge fanbase here. That's how a lot of people started watching and supporting Utd. Those were David Beckham's greatest days for the club. One of the first "rock star" footballers of the new millenium, he became a brand ambassador for Utd, with many people learning about him before they learned about the club. And thus began the propogation of Utd fandom across Asia and India in particular.

That got the ball rolling. Which is why Utd supporters are broadly classified into two categories: 1. The fans who began supporting thanks to that match, who didn't know anything about football. 2. The glory-hunters and the wannabes who support Man Utd because everyone else does. Because it's "cool" to support Utd.

In my time in Mysore, I was hanging around the basketball court when I overheard two people in conversation. One seemed a level-headed chap, the other seemed a twat. Guess if you can guess which was which. The conversation went something like this:
A: (in a heavily accented and annoying voice) "I just hate ManU, you know. I will take bets against them, I will lose money, I don't care, but I just hate them."
B: "Yeah. Actually they have a lot of fans."
A: "Yaaaa, and you know that's the reason I hate them so much..."

Hmm. Thanks a lot, asshole. You broadly sum up most Utd-haters. And your willingness to lose money just to make a point- highly admirable! I wish you'd've taken some bets with me. Cocksucker.

The ABUs (Anyone But United), united only in their common hatred for Utd. Which is understandable.

The persecution from these creatures starts at the basest level. Why do we support Utd? They see us as bandwagon-hopping glory hunters, and nothing more. It's a vicious cycle for them: Utd has many supporters, that's why so many people support Utd, which adds to their fanbase, and so on. It's as if supporting any other team would qualify us to a certain basic respect that doesn't come with supporting Utd. It hardly crosses their mind that maybe we, like many people, started supporting a team for arbitrary reasons in the beginning, but came to understand and appreciate them. But no one takes us seriously. Not a Utd supporter.

Second most important, they hate our history. They hate when we bring it up. They accuse us, after every loss or hiccup in form, of hiding behind our history. Okay. It's not our fault that our club has such a marvelous history. Such jealousy boils within our rivals that they jump as if scalded every time they even hear the number "19." How dare we ever bring that up? Liverpool used to be the team with history. What gets them is that that's all they have now. They once told us to come back when we have 18 (Premier League titles). We now have one more. So they take pride in reminding us that they have 5 European Cups, while we only have 3. So much for not hiding behind history. Got knocked off your fuckin' perch, didn't you scousers? And then there are clubs like Chelsea, who have even less of a history than Liverpool, and very little of a present to speak of, whose fans claim not to care about history. That's a very pretty and convenient excuse. But you will be so kind as to forgive us for being proud of our history. And just to keep it recent for your sake, in the last 5 years we still have more trophies than you've had managers- and that's saying something.

Speaking of which, another reason for their hate is another reason for our pride: yes, Manchester United is a one man team, but that man is Sir Alex Ferguson. And they HATE Sir Alex, more than they hate our history and all our trophies combined. He's an arrogant, pompous son of a bitch. He bans media reporters, he only answers soft-ball questions, he influences refs, he tells the England manager that he doesn't want his boys to play, he get's extra time at Old Trafford when he needs it, and he seems to dictate dubious decisions. He is a force of evil. How else could he have remained manager of a single team for a quarter of a century, a feat unheard of in these tough times? How else could he have won 12 Premier League titles, more than some clubs? He must be strong with the Dark Side of the Force. But I'm glad that he's on our side.

Tick tock, ref, tick tock...

Player scuffles happen, because millionaire egos clash in the dressing room. Some of these players are kids. But the Gaffer always maintains that the Club is bigger than any player, as it should be. Then came Rooneygate, in October of 2010, where he claimed the "club had no ambition." This was a shocker, especially given the friendly relationship between Rooney and Sir Alex. It was, perhaps, and agent induced kerfuffle. Rooney agreed to stay and was given a pay raise, something rival fans are quick to keep us from forgetting. So which was it? Did Sir Alex swallow his pride and concede to Wayne's demands, or was Wayne confused because some caustic components were whispering poison in his ears? The fact is, we can only speculate. For me, whatever the case may be, his drastic improvement in pitch performance and utter devotion to the team has earned my forgiveness, sealed with that emphatic bicycle kick at Old Trafford against Manchester City in the same season. So when he kisses the badge, I believe it. Haters do not.

Rooney is a Red, at lest for now. So be afraid.

And now we come to the competition. The Blue Moon rising. Where to start. For years they have been the underachieving little brother. From across town. Suddenly Manchester City FC finds itself rolling in a sheikh's oil money and chock full of big stars with a successful Italian coach at their head. And now they are winning. Why wouldn't they, with stellar talent in the form of players like Sergio Aguero, son-in-law of the legendary Diego Maradonna; David Silva, one of the best midfielders in the league; Mario Ballotelli, a black Italian with behavioral issues and a mean streak.

The man behind the Blue Wave, Roberto Mancini.

Stellar talent, no doubt. Aguero, Balotelli, and Silva. Any team would be envious.

They are a force to reckon with. This season they have already beat us at Old Trafford by the embarassing scoreline of 1-6, and currently lead the table on points. And this is a fact that we are constantly reminded about. What gives them more glee is that it is the once upon a time retarded little brother that now seems to be calling shots in Manchester. And suddenly the City fans have come out of the woodwork. It's a bit sad the way they love a Utd loss more than a victory for their own side, whoever it may be.

Liverpool beat us 2-1 in the FA Cup this season. To lose to rivals is a horrible thing. Because we then face all kinds of dubious insinuations. And the ribbing is caustic and non-stop. It's a very special thing, and rival fans use it with the utmost glee. I suppose I can't blame them: defeating Utd IS a special thing.

Just recently we drew Chelsea at Stamford Bridge 3-3, coming back from 3-0 down. We had the help of two penalty calls, by none other than our savior, Howard Webb, top English referee. The accusations are rife and endless: Howard Webb is a Manchester United man. He always gives decisions in favor of Utd. He always helps Utd win. He always gives Utd more injury time so they can score a winner or an equalizer at OT. Sir Alex himself is supposed to have a magical control over all referees (except maybe Martin Atkinson). This notion, is of course rubbish. Rarely will they remember decisions that went against Utd. The penalties in question, however soft, were indeed penalties. The overall quality of refereeing these days is shown in a bad light altogether, with the media hyping every single bad or dubious call, but this constant whining and complaining about how certain referees support and protect Utd (or any other club, for that matter) is annoying and childish. I personally hate it when decisions go against my team (like Atkinson's refereeing in the reverse fixture of last season), but I also hate it when we win dubious challenges. Such sanity is never extended when dealing with a Devil, I'm afraid. The mob comes with pitchforks and torches to burn us at the stake.

Hold your cliched accusations till the end.

So their you have it. Utd fans are subject to a variety of disproportionate hate crimes, from ill-humored ribbing to blatant and arbitrary labelling as wannabes and worse.

Oh, but what to do. We support Man Utd. Manchester fucking United. The Red Devils. Oh baby, what a team. From the Busby Babes to the Fergie Fledglings, inspiration and triumph is everywhere you look. They are relentless. Your players may make money; ours make history. We are not arrogant, just better. Utd has given me so much, but one of the most important things is the power to B.E.L.I.E.V.E.

And that is a wonderful gift. No matter at what stage of the match it is, I NEVER LOSE FAITH. Last season we were down 2-0 to Aston Villa. When Macheda came on and bolted a strike in to make it 2-1, I was waiting for 2-3, not 2-2. Just recently against Chelsea, when we were down 3-0, I didn't give up. I sat up and waited for us to get equal, and the goals came one by one. Even on Black Sunday, when City had us pegged 1-3 at OT down and we lost Johnny Evans to a red card, I did not waver. The first two matches did indeed end up a draw, and we all know what happened with the last one. But this ability to BELIEVE in the face of sheer defeat is a gift Utd has given me, and something I am able to carry beyond football. What a magnificent thing.

And then there is just the pure joy of watching Manchester United play. What a beautiful high, to see that lovely attacking football. I love every one of those boys playing in that shirt. Yes, this thing with Utd has turned into a real love affair over the years. It is a privilege and a treat to watch them play. That never-say-die attitude which has become synonymous with brand Utd is massive. How do I thank them for this? For that unbeatable high and joy of watching Manchester United play football?

The haters will hate. That's what they do. They will pick and prod and point and grab at anything to pull you down, but that spirit is unshakable. Jealousy blinds and hatred stupefies, they will insinuate and accuse but they may never know that feeling, and for that they must be excused. Perhaps even pitied. And we LOVE your hate. It makes us stronger. It makes Manchester United who they are. Fuck yeah, it's the world against us. Give us hell.

So go on, label me. Insult me. Hate me.

We are The Red Devils, and we will march on.

Adzilla: HTC's Finger Ad

This is a new series where I will be analyzing ads that I liked or hated or impressed me in any other way. I hope to be the guy who makes the ads soon.

The HTC finger ad touched me immediately. Pun intended!

The ad features a girl (very cute, btw. What? I had to say it, ok...) who is followed by painted fingers. The fingers walk like a person, and they are painted to look like they are wearing clothes. In the beginning of the ad, she is clearly annoyed with the fingers, but as the ad progresses she becomes steadily amused by them but continues to play hard to get. Near the end of the ad, the fingers threaten to jump off a ledge, but finally just sit down. Flash from the fingers to the feet of a boy sitting on the ledge of a building. To his side is his mobile, and in the corner of the screen, we see a pair of feminine fingers moving towards him, and his phone beeps with the delivery of an SMS. His girlfriend has finally forgiven him.

Loved it! And the song is catchy and fits very well with the ad.

The ad is clearly aimed at the youth. The whole girlfriend-boyfriend dynamic plays perfectly to their wavelengths. It's a time of high-romance for college-goers, and these little petty fights are something they can relate to, look back at, and laugh on. Also it plays to the fact that youth are quite tech savvy and use texting as a primary mode of communication.

So let's break it down:

The good:

• Loved the concept. You won't understand the first time what is going on, but by the end of the ad, you'll figure it out. I think it's clever and funny. I wonder how much thought went into the painting? They did a good job.
• The song really works for the ad. Perfect fit. Has a wonderful youthful vibe to it. Nice music and lyrics.
• The girl is great. And I don't mean she is only cute, but her expressions are spot on. I especially like the "Oh, really?" look she gives at the end when the boy threatens to jump.
• The cinematography. I like how each time they just capture the hand, with the rest of the arm out of the frame. It is artfully done. Like when the girl is sitting at the table having lunch.

The bad:

• The song. Personally, I knew it had a very short expiry date with me. I would not be able to stand it from the 2nd time I saw it. "Waiting waiting, sweety pie..." Shut the fuck up! God! At least it's not as bad as that fucking Airtel "Har Ek Friend" song.
• In the links below, you will read what the professionals had to say. While the ad is nice and catchy, the message is old and the delivery can be confusing. I'm not at that level yet, so I couldn't pick this out!

Some nice comments at exchange4media. You can check the print ads also. They too are eye-catching.

Some more stuff here and here.

The Patriot Act

How many of you are patriots? I bet you all are. Except you cynical people who think it's cool to be cynical and not identify with anything. God, you pricks annoy me to know end, sitting their with that smug look on your face.

But let's talk about another thing that annoys me: patriots.

Now don't charge me with sedition just yet. "Oh, he's not patriotic, he must be anti-India!" Get off your high-horse, buddy. While you're happily shouting vande mataram, you might miss a couple of important things.

I'm annoyed by many kinds of people, but the one relevant to this topic is the kind who think they display a certain character trait (albeit a noble one) because they are from such and such a place. "We will forgive you, because we are ______ian." Ok, seriously: what the fuck? And they say it so matter-of-factly, like it's the ultimate truth. Because you are from some place, that makes you better, more forgiving, more magnanimous? Fucking bullshit. I honestly feel like slapping such people. Not figuratively, but really giving them a taste of my palm. Smack, right across their mouth. I would not even mind had they said "We will forgive you, because we are just fucking awesome." Ok, so they're noble and maybe a tad conceited. That I can abide. There is a good quality in them that they have by and of themselves, that doesn't stem from the latitude and longitude of their birthplace.

After all, there's a certain kind of people that think they are superior based on their birthplace and/or race. And historically, they have not been very popular.

Moving on to the kind of patriot that annoys me now. We have these hyperactive individuals who with fire in their eyes and a ruler straight back say, "I yam Indiyun." and they may pound their chest for effect. They are, merely by this admission, of an infallible legacy, of a royal bloodline of martyrs and kings, and torch bearers of the grand tradition of truth, justice and freedom that this great nation was built on.

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Think back. Men and women actually gave their lives for the freedom that you so callously enjoy with blatant disregard for everything else. Bhagat Singh laid down his life for liberation. Mahatma Gandhi dedicated his life to the freedom of India. Sarojini Naidu was there, debating and fighting. The Nehrus tried to bring a fledgling nation into a modern age of freedom and prosperity. Men like Muhammad Yunus set up schemes to help the poor in the country. Anna Hazare fasted on behalf of all us lazy assholes who want everything spoon-fed to us. If you ask me, these are the real patriots. And obviously I can't mention all such people.

Honestly, what have you (adressing the people mentioned 2 paragraphs before) done to be Indian? Nothing really. Except be born. And that's fucking easy. All you had to do was pop out. And this whole patriot-giri is just an act. Because it's in vogue at the time, it's fashionable. You've been well fed your whole life, never known struggle, and when this whole "thing" blows over, you'll go back to being content. You'll drive your big car, guzzle petrol, waste food, pollute the environment, shop in big malls, and complain about the state of the nation in the comfort of your air conditioner. Patriot indeed.

I'm not asking you to grab a rifle and go stand on the LOC and shout obscenities at those across the border. If you want to be a patriot, if you really love your country so much, stop talking and pounding your chest and do something. The freedom struggle never finished, it's just taken a new form. So don't litter. Keep your roads clean. Don't take the illegal turn because the actual turn is just 100 meters ahead. Don't bribe the cop when you get caught because you did take the illegal turn. Don't drink and drive. Don't spit on the roads and in stairwells of buildings. Don't fuel corruption "because it's just easier." Don't waste food. Give more. Donate money, donate time. Join an NGO. Build a shelter. Volunteer at a shelter. Denounce regionalism. Don't identify yourself and others by statehood, religion, caste, etc. Say 'I'm an Indian,' and leave it at that.

And don't be afraid to rock the boat. Patriotism demands that when the system that is meant to serve the people breaks down, the people must dissent.

I'm not saying do all of it. I'm not saying be a saint. I'm not saying it's easy. But shit, freedom never has been easy. And neither should be patriotism. Start small, at your home, and then work your way up. Show your patriotism, don't tell me about it. I've heard enough.

(I shall not endeavor to bore you with the other reason I dislike patriotism, regarding my damned fool idealistic notion of global unity. So boring!)

Politicians are sucking the country dry. At least the British Raj were honest about looting us. There is ever prevalent filth and breakdown of machinery. It pervades all levels of life. This is nothing new. But it's getting worse. The country is in dire need of real patriots, more so than ever before.

So be one.

Disclaimer 1: My history is extremely bad. I may not know all the stories regarding certain personalities that I have mentioned here. I have used them for representative purposes. So if any of them have done something horrible that I don't know about, it's not my fault. That was not my point in mentioning. If you disagree with my calling them patriots because of some reason, etc., you didn't get the point of this article.


Disclaimer 2: Regarding my steps to becoming a patriot, I am not saying I myself always follow them. I am no saint either. But for every one-way turn I take on the wrong side, I refuse to throw 3 pieces of trash on the road. So we all need to try and contribute in our own way.


Disclaimer 3: If you still have a problem with what I've written, I will be much obliged to bend over so can kiss my buttocks on both cheeks. You goddamn right, mutherfucker. 

Random Rant-6 : The Shoulder Block Part 3- Blindsighted

This is the last of the Shoulder Block series, and I've chosen it for last because it is the most personal, and I don't think you would have experienced the particularities unless you travel from Hinjewadi Phase 2 to your home or place of residence on the bottleneck that is, well, the road through there.

But you two-wheeler-walas will no doubt understand that basic premise. During the monsoons, precipitation tends to collect on the visor of your helmet (of law abiding citizens who dare to wear a helmet, that is). This is expected and not a wholly irritating phenomenon. However, these little drops of water have the propensity to capture a ray of light and scatter it. And they all do this individually. Also it is the habit of the great Indian populace (baboons!) to ride at night with their high beams on. So not only do their headlights flash right in your eyes, the light-scattering droplets fill your helmet with a beautiful glow that shields your eyes from everything else.

Certainly a frightening situation.

So during the monsoons, when the road gets wet (and mind you, in Pune sometimes it doesn't rain, it just drizzles which serves only to make the road mucky and dangerous without being pleasant at all, but that's another rant), traffic invariable grinds to a halt, and proceeds from then on at a snail's pace. And while leaving the large commercial complex that is IT Park, this can mean encountering A SHITLOAD OF TRAFFIC in the aforementioned bottleneck.

Well, we twowheeler guys are damned if we're sitting through that bullshit. The main road has going and coming lanes separated by a divider which has gaps in it at certain points so a vehicle can turn around without having to traverse the whole stretch. So we cross the gap and go from the other side which is mostly empty. So much for law abiding citizens. But it cuts down travel time to a fraction of what it would be! And trudging through the traffic in a minor drizzle is a pain in the ass! Heavier rain is far better, believe me!

But the worst thing that can happen is you miss the gap. Because if you should, god forbid, you are in for about a kilometer of traffic, all the while roasting in your raincoat, slowly getting damp on the inside with aerosol-rain and sweat, feet getting muddy, and temper growing short. Combine this with the phenomenon of the glowing helmet and you'll see where I'm going.

You plan turn. You gdt blinded by fucking high beams and bastard rain droplets on visor. Bam. You miss turn. You screwed. Fuck.

There is no better way to explain this than a rage. My first. A new trend for a new year.

A New Year, A New Hope

Hope is a dangerous thing. Drive a man insane. It's got no place here. Better get used to the idea. 


Story of my life. My prison is my mind. My "Great Depression" is my life. Yes,  now I'm mashing disparate movies together.

2012. A brand new year. In the grand scheme of things, Jan 1st is just another day. If you stop thinking of years graphically as clusters of 12 blocks, and think of them contiguously linked together, you will see December melting into January so that the effect is less jarring. Well, that's how I think of it. And if you believe those pesky Myans, it's all going to end this year. God forbid. I'm hoping my life will begin this year.

Oops. There it is. I said the "h-word." Hope is a dangerous thing. And boy, don't I know it. The quintessential human emotion- simultaneously the source of our greatest strength and our greatest weakness (I did the movie thing again).

Let me tell you why hope is a dangerous thing. Because it gives you hope. Rather it gets your hopes up. Damn it, what am I saying... The point is, you deal with a lot of bullshit hoping that something will happen. But life ain't like the damn movies. When that thing doesn't happen, you're just left with a lot of bullshit, a confused look on your face, and nowhere to go. And such has been the case with me far too many times (yes, allow me to whine. This is my blog, after all). And that's fucking boring. It really is. That's right. For once I'd like to know the opposite feeling of having your hopes come crumbling down and being left with nothing and nowhere to go. Not only are you left in the pit surrounded by broken bones, you have no drive behind you to keep you going. And I'm fucking bored of that.

And like a child that never learns his lesson, I still keep hoping, after all that. Idiotic!

But look sharp! All is not so bad. I ended 2011 with river rafting and began 2012 with bungee jumping. Not a bad way to kick things off. And there are plenty of good things that I can do this year, what with MICAT looming. I just have to work really hard. Really hard. And I fucking better. Do, or do not. There is no try. Not anymore. Except it seems that I don't need to try to find suitable movie quotes.

Yup. Although finding the whole "holiday" spirit this year was a very difficult and trying task, I think I can still feel a bit of the old "new year hope." Why not. I just hope I have a little help this year, in more area than one. Right from home on up. I feel another quote coming on.


Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.


Andy Dufrane, fucker...

P.S. I haven't bothered to make a resolution this year. Maybe my resolution is to get into MICA. Oh, and pick up the guitar again. *groan*