utterences

My time is frozen, and I am in time. The time rests in a moment which spans the boundaries of a unfaded memory. The horizon is a twilight of yellow light. The yellow mercury bulbs, which shopkeepers have put on to attract the customers. The people pace without no faces outside their shops. Shopkeepers hope in the yellow light of mercury bulbs; the faceless are customers who will buy time from them.
I wanted to be in the white light of tube lights - the omnipresent white florescent light which would jealous the Fire Fly. The light in which you and I will laugh the eternal laughter of Mozart.
I wanted to feel the yellow light on my face. I wanted to touch the horizon; hear the yellow laugh of the yellow star. I am blinded and now the horizon is there, and I am there, but the earth and the sky do not meet here anymore.

Ciabbata

I have realized that my quest is not for the answers to the questions, but for the questions that linger in my existence. There are things that I observe, and for every instance that I observe is a set pattern - a predictable pattern. I can predict, but this leads to an overwhelming question that what is the question for which I am observing it?
Apart from that, each new day in front of the mirror I see this guy, and think that if I were him, I would brush my teeth right now, and shave this fur of my face. I am consequently defined by what I do not wish to become. This is not a life, its a false positive of a life. How unstable can one be? My only effort is to hold of and ward off what is inevitable.
And then I have these memories, which basically define me. I am a function of this time that I have spent:
[Me=f(t)= Integral (first day of life to this day) f(t)dt]
When I first read about Gregor Samsa in Kafka's Metamorphosis, I thought of DDT. But that is beside the point.
How pathetically, I define myself with a mathematical expression. Its almost genius, almost.

Oppertunist me

I am being chased by this pernecious demonic creature. It tests my determination, but every time I beat it in its own games through the power of my sheer will.
I am driving a car, and my car is getting heavier and heavier, I cannot accelerate any more and its slowing down. I turn back and see the demon is in the car. I get out of the car and start running away from it.
It is an old house, perhaps my grand father's old house, and I am going to the terrace from the front stairs. The demon is around here; I feel it.
I see a man with no face, and I know its the same creature that has followed me - now disguised as David Blane. I argue with it and forcefully convince him to leave me alone - once again I have exercised my will to get rid of it.
What is this room? I cannot recall it? Is that Mephistopheles? So he wants my soul now? Technically I could sell it - I am not using it anyways. But, its a matter of principles and I will not subdue. So I bargain and defeat him in his own arena. I grin victoriously. "I am invincible".
I am in my bed room. I do not know this woman's face. But I do know that it is the same creature. She is trying to seduce me now. I notice she has such a pretty face. I am sitting on this easy chair, and she is standing right infront of me. Without uttering a word she takes off her clothes, and starts walking towards me. Just when she is about to sit in my lap, I think to myself
"I am invincible ..."
"...but its only a dream, so what the hell!!"
I let her sit in my lap and give in ...
A feeling of ecstasy rocked my body.I was awake now looking in the dark, and smiling to myself, "I am invincible".

The Clamor

The clamor. I remember being up at 7, and not being happy to the see the fog covered streets of my city. Curiosity is in my nature, and fog and mists are natrually a source of excitement for me, but in those days - those particular days - I had to be up and go play cricket in the ground next to that 150 year old Gothic style Cathedrel on sundays. The Clamor, among the mist of the church bells I cannot forget. It resounds in my mind even today, as it is only seperated from me by the mist in between - a mist of time perhaps.
And I remember, at one point in my life I also thought that the bell sound like Ub-40's "Dont break my heart", and I would just sit there and listen to the clamor through the fog. Who would have thought that I'd fall in love with a church-bell. Who would have thought that I'd miss my city so much.

King Lear just before Shakespear's tragedy

Ladies, and Gentlemen,
Finally I have started filming my version of the King Lear http://invince.blogspot.com/2005/09/king-lear-like-never-before-my-very.html and it will be posted here shortly; as soon as it is finished.
This effort is solely to demonstrate that Monty Python can suck my balls!!
(well not really - braging helps)

Legs for the elephants supporting naked conscious with a square "Unsatiated Desire"

The Elephents, 1948 by Dali

A figure in the window (and another in the sky) by Dali

The top one is the original by Salvador Dali. The one at the bottom is my version of it.

Stream of pissing conciousness

Once upon a time, there was a present day - today. Well, not today as in "whats today?" but this present year, or rather present time. So once upon this present time; as a matter of fact it could have been more than once. So, upon a time, this time, there lives a breed on this planet who cherish ignorance. Some call them trigger happy rednecks, some call them rednecks, and some call them republicans, and some even call them by their name - but the title is not important at this point in time. When that time, which is now, was upon us in the story that is being told, then that time is right now, so in this time, these people are disconnected with reality, or at least it can be said that what is real for the rest of the world, may not be real for them, or those people as our story goes.
The epitome of the ignorance shines in the fact that they have not converted to SI metric units, and use their trusted old pounds for weights. Which brings us to another convincing reason of obeseity in their society, why they weigh so much, or why they are so big; its because for every Kilogram there are 2 pounds.
Anyways, such a person believes that internet should not be neutral, and further more the unit of data must not be Kilo-bits per second (Kbps), it should be Pounds-bits per second (Lbbps). Hell, I am sure John Mc Cain is working on one such a bill.
Our story contines, and that guy sits over there smoking a sheesha. Sheesha is an interesting thing to be smoking. Well, not as interesting as a novel, or a piece of art, or when open sarcastic comments are not feasible you get away by saying "interesting", but close enough.
At this point I should be focusing on making this post interesting, because it is going no where, and I still havent found a punch line. So I am not going to continue this post. The End.
Wait, there upon a time, a hunter had a 100 piegeons. He could have bats instead. That bastard.

Transformation

"Ash to Ash.. Dust to Dust..or was it Ash to Dust ..Dust to Ash.??" [sic].*
Actually the transformation never takes place. Prometheus stays there tied; vultures continue to tear his flesh; complacency replaces pain; ashes remain ashes, and dust remains dust.


*Su-'s nick on msn.

The escape

When the ticks of the clock are not heard;
When the obliqueness
of the night takes over the stars;
when the darkness presents its dance
and the silenced thoughts sing in the ears.

I stare in the darkness
and sip through the glass.
The wine melts on my tongue,
and in the heart the poison descends.
From behind the tall figurines
the shadows emerge
(screaming the screams of innocent children).
They plot a visage of shimmering darkness.
Overflowing the cups of heaven, the darkness;
Slithering in the dark, the darkness;
darker than their hearts, the darkness.

The shadows converge and form a face,
and (in the darkness) its eyes can see now.
The darkness ascends the walls of my heart,
and in the glass I see myself.
I sip the wine,
till the glass is empty.

Now its only the heart
and my empty glass.

On the rationality of the Church, or Is Benedict XVI Chancelor Palpatine?

I was amused to hear the recent Pope's comments on Islam and violence - the pope does that once in a while about gay marriage, and birth control and the list is endless. My gut reaction was "the man is only doing his job" and I moved on to the more important things of the day. But after a few hours, and reading a bunch of different headlines around the world, I was forced to take the matter seriously.
I read the script of Pope's speech, and I concluded that there was nothing wrong with the argument he was trying to make. He was promoting the Greek and hence the resulting influence of rationality in the Christian faith and the church in generall. The entire matter was supposed to be platonic in nature, and it would have been if the Pope had not succumbed to which the entire church did a few 100 years ago - triggering a dark age.
The Pope's discussion as the church claims was a discussion with valid arguemnts about the superiority of reason and rationality (as we all know arguments form the basis of any discussion), but his arguments were not rational, or even depicted reality. He went on quoting this empror Manuel II from the dark ages. The arguement is strictly formulated by conviction and is not rational or (even based on the known history) at all. Hence the Pope did what a Head of an organization that gave us dark ages, burning of the heratics, crusades, does best - he contradicted himself, and the history.
Now don't get me wrong here - I have nothing against any religon.
My concerns are based on a report by BBC that has made a comparison between Benedict XVI and Darth Vader. I did some reserch into the matter, and I have a reason to believe that BBC is wrong - its not Darth Vader, its the Emperor Palpatine himself. I have a proof, and here I present it to you in the following lines:


Pope Palpatine I

Does this mean that the Church has been hijacked by the Sith? and "in grave danger, we are", or even worse, "I am your father, Luke"!!!? You decide.

no body knows where you are; how near or how far. Shine on you crazy diamond.

Many years have gone by in a struggle that consumes one day at a time; the days which are followed by the nights filled with the fragrance of confusion and dismay. The woods that have grown just outside my self, are haunted by the vicious monsters of isolation. I dared take a walk in those woods and now in the dark night, which followed the day of a struggle, I have no north-star in sight to trace my way back to myself. Each day I am devoured by the beasts who hungrily feed on me. Soon my flesh will be old, and those beasts of passion and ambition will not like the taste of my blood anymore. They will leave me on my own in the woods that I had cherished in the youth to walk the burden of the old age.

W.A: She broke up with me, because she thinks that I am a pervert.
D.K: Why? Why so?
W.A: Because I drank all the water from her water-bed.

the google paradox

It appears that this blog has changed its ownership. I have been posting third party posts on it - articles, video clips; crap in general. It is not true however. A person is defined by their memmory, and hence, Vincent is all that you read here.

I was surfing the search engines the other day and I realized that my blog is listed under the most perpostrous keywords. For example, visistude brings up my blog. Looking for "limit of 'infinity over zero', epestemology, or "etherized bastard" brings up this blog too. Now it may sound casual, but beware, because its not. All these search results are from google.

Now its common knowledge that google ranks and categorizes its search results in a democratic way. My blog seems to be an anomaly, since it is not about any of the above mentioned keywords. If I were to suggest that a democratic system by google approaches its limits in order to place a multi-faceted blog like this into a particualar category, because it is too broad to be narrowed down. Then, consequently, does this mean that a democratic society will also fail in realizing the potential of a diverse persona, because it cannot be generalized?
I hope not.

Paas raho by Faiz (a translation)

Stay with me my tormenter, my beloved
In the moment the night walks
Drunk on the blood of skies
Laced with the healing musk
Armed with the diamond-dagger
Mourning, laughing, singing
She goes
Verberating her crimson anklet of pain
The moment,
When hearts drowned in hollow breasts
Seek the blows of idle hands,
With longing
When the sound of pouring wine
Sounds like the sobs of weeping children
When seas of anguish
Become untamable
When silence rules
When the night walks
Mourning, haunted, dark night walks
In that moment
Stay with me
My tormenter, my beloved
Stay with me.

[by Cisco]