What a major thrill -- I have finally discovered how to generate symbols without going into the Special Characters menu -- and I wasn't even looking! Obviously, many of those I "discovered" won't translate equally well on all the potential monitors that might display this blogpost, so I'm not going to make a big effort to show off this discovery, but -- for instance -- I can finally write 'cliché' correctly, online (I could always do it in Word dox, but could not reproduce that effect online). Nice, huh. And 'Æsop's fables'. It's a simple trick and different keyboards no doubt have different combinations that help achieve it but on the MacBook Pro it involves the OPTIONS key, various combinations of. I didn't get it right away because on earlier machines, to get an accent into place, I had to highlight the letter then type the required accent. With the Options key, it's a bit in reverse -- for the é for instance, it's Option+e, then e again. ƒåßçîñæ†ìñ©… (translation: fascinating ...)
The 'and I wasn't even looking' is my lead-in to another recent MAJOR THRILL -- watching the Beatles movie 'HELP' the other day, on DVD. I always loved this film -- I saw it on the big screen, in Bombay (at EROS Cinema, Churchgate), maybe a year after it came out, and if I could have, would have seen it many times over to memorize key scenes -- but of course that wasn't really an option in those days, as I was still in (boarding) school and wasn't at liberty to just dash off to see any movie I liked.
It's been digitally remastered and is absolutely sumptuous. I didn't realize at the time I ordered the DVD that iTunes was going to be show-casing the Fab Four starting today (or was it Yesterday?), not that it would make a difference -- but I may have felt I was band-wagoning if I'd known. Which I wasn't.
Watching it again reminded me that it was still very funny in a way that anticipates Monty Python's Flying Circus by about five years (I had to check to see the dates -- 1965 for HELP, '69 to '70 for MPFC) -- it's something I didn't recognize at the time I saw MPFC, though I knew they were channeling the Goon Show -- but also just their own I-Am-The-Walrus wackiness. They anticipate political correctness to an astonishing degree, considering that it was NOT the order of the day: they use a multi-armed deity they name 'Kaili', importune a goddess they call 'Perverti' and though characters are obviously dressed to simulate SubContinentals, they're just enough off the mark (I suppose ...) to get away with their spoof. They're quite vicious towards the British characters in the film -- the manic scientist who complains bitterly about the lack of Govt recognition and the daft elderly-lady neighbours, f'rinstance. The mumbling conversations of the 'Head Priest' in which he complains about young people not being attracted to human sacrifice any more, 'such a shame!' and wonders what can be done to make it more palatable. LOVE it.
Like I LOVE the tiger, the idiotic winking lady, the Beatle-fan who was the original sacrificial victim, the crazy 60s clothes ... and of course, of course, the boyz themselves, singing.
For me the best bit is the way Ringo finally gets the ring off his finger --SPOILER ALERT-- not all thru the main part of the film, when he desperately wants to, but only at that moment when he's distracted from the need to get it off his finger and is no longer obsessing over either keeping it or removing it and because at that moment he genuinely wants to help the petitioner. I always thought (but yes, of course I romanticize the Beatles out of all proportion) this was totally THE HEIGHT of transcendental philosophy revealed in the banal-pop medium of a Beatles film. Way out.
To top this, I have also ordered the DVD of Magical Mystery Tour, which I've never seen. Yes, yes, I know it was such a low-tide moment in cinema that even die-hard Beatle fans are embarrassed by the film. That's why I want to see it. I want to Love The Hate. Haven't got it yet! Will report when I do.
2 comments:
hi not gonna pretend this fits here but a fb page from a friend ,,,,, gt
Ode to Bombay - by Dilip Chitre
by H P on Sunday, December 5, 2010 at 9:41am
As I get ready to leave Mumbai - aka Bombay - after 5 weeks, I'm feeling rather sad. So I'm sending this poem, written by my old friend Dilip Chitre, poet, writer, translator, filmmaker, skipping across the cyber seas, much like a kid flicking one of those flat, circular stones, in the hope that it makes a splash or two. This one's for my family in India and all my Indian friends- and for you know who...
ODE TO BOMBAY
By Dilip Chitre
I had promised you a poem before I died
Diamonds storming out of the blackness of a piano
Piece by piece I fall at my own dead feet
Releasing you like a concerto from my silence
I unfasten your bridges from my insistent bones
Free your railway lines from my desperate veins
Dismantle your crowded tenements and meditating machines
Remove your temples and brothels pinned in my skull
You go out of me in a pure spiral of stars
A funeral progressing towards the end of time
Innumerable petals of flame undress your dark
Continuous stem of growing
I walk out of murders and riots
I fall out of smouldering biographies
I sleep on a bed of burning languages
Sending you up in your essential fire and smoke
Piece by piece at my own feet I fall
Diamonds storm out of a black piano
Once I promised you an epic
And now you have robbed me
You have reduced me to rubble
This concerto ends
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dilip_Chitre
seen on a fgriends blog in face book - gt
--------------------------
As I get ready to leave Mumbai - aka Bombay - after 5 weeks, I'm feeling rather sad. So I'm sending this poem, written by my old friend Dilip Chitre, poet, writer, translator, filmmaker, skipping across the cyber seas, much like a kid flicking one of those flat, circular stones, in the hope that it makes a splash or two. This one's for my family in India and all my Indian friends- and for you know who...
ODE TO BOMBAY
By Dilip Chitre
I had promised you a poem before I died
Diamonds storming out of the blackness of a piano
Piece by piece I fall at my own dead feet
Releasing you like a concerto from my silence
I unfasten your bridges from my insistent bones
Free your railway lines from my desperate veins
Dismantle your crowded tenements and meditating machines
Remove your temples and brothels pinned in my skull
You go out of me in a pure spiral of stars
A funeral progressing towards the end of time
Innumerable petals of flame undress your dark
Continuous stem of growing
I walk out of murders and riots
I fall out of smouldering biographies
I sleep on a bed of burning languages
Sending you up in your essential fire and smoke
Piece by piece at my own feet I fall
Diamonds storm out of a black piano
Once I promised you an epic
And now you have robbed me
You have reduced me to rubble
This concerto ends
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dilip_Chitre
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