Something a bit essay-ish now that I hope you'll find interesting. Really, I'm writing this post as a clarification on my own political and philosophical viewpoint and as a dispelling of some long propagated myths surrounding socialist/leftist thought.
Socialist Individualism:
The core idea I want to get at here is that of Socialism being a way of using a collectivist approach to society as a method of self-realisation and individual empowerment. To many (especially to those prescribing to the views of the right, from liberal conservatives to fervent fascists) socialism is the antithesis of the concept of individual freedom. They fear that the individual human spirit will be lost to the emphasis placed on everyone working collectively and in step with each other to advance. However, I would argue that these people do not understand what Socialism actually is (or at least what I would percieve socialist ideals to be, perhaps tempered by the Western political tradition of Liberalism). To me Socialism is about everybody having a stake in the world in which they live and so everybody works together in order to improve the society around them. Doing this, we can provide for the vulnerable and the workers and poor through the state, providing housing, income and, most importantly, opportunities. When socialism provides a man with a job and house where he would otherwise have had nothing under a capitlaist system, that man gains opportunity. He now has the means to educate and better himself, to travel and take in a varied world view. The man now has freedom to do more with an income, whereas under capitalism he may have had nothing and been able to do nothing.
The Role of the state:
Working as a collective, we contribute to the state which, in turn, contributes to us. If we take the above point that control of resources such as an income, home etc. grants opportunities for individual empowerment and growth, the state then becomes the arbiter of this individual growth as the state controls the distribution of resources. Resources come to the state in the form of taxes etc. and the state redistributes those resources through services, benefits, housing and so on, the classic socialist model. Obviously being the controller of our personal growth is a position carrying the potential for too much abuse of power which is where the beauty of democracy comes in; if the state goes to far, the people vote for change.
Conclusion:
This, I would argue, is the clear way in which my own view of Socialism, in it's final stage, is actually about the granting of individual growth and opportunity, not about empowering a collective at the cost of singular human freedom. Together we can work to distribute wealth away from the wealthy capitalist Bourgeoisie who, through controlling a majority of resources and wealth, have a monopoly on opportunities for self-empowerment and instead distribute it towards those who currently lack the resources and wealth to grow as individuals.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
Lyrical Abortions Pt.4
These lyrics were cool, dunno what style of music they would fit as they're not written with sort of rhythms demanded by metal and they're not written in the kind of pseudo Romantic-era English as my gothic doom metal lyrics. Also, it's the first time I've written lyrics with the use of a sample in mind right from the start. No title in mind yet but here they are:
I’m standing on the brink
Looking down
Into a meaningless zero
Colossal, jagged
And infinitely cruel
An absurd joke
That no one understands
But I laugh anyway
Because it’s all I can do
When we talk, I only hear screams
That pierce my soul
Shrill and excruciating
We don’t really care
As all we’ve built
Collapses all around us
Don’t even notice
As we crumble
A new zenith
The great age of the random
No plans or hope
Such things have no use
(In this brave new world)
When we touch it sears
Bathed in the red glow
Of a titanic, malevolent sun
And in the stagnant pool
Of this collective apathy,
Amid the gleaming, soulless chrome
Of the modern world,
I scream my tortured heart
Into the wasteland
Vomit my broken soul
Into the hot winds…
… But no answer comes…
… I am alone…
(Patrick Bateman sample as music fades out: “My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone… In fact I want my pain to be inflicted on others… I want no one to escape…”)
Saturday, 18 December 2010
My review of American Psycho (Book not film):
Before I start this review, let me say that if you plan on reading this book, make sure you can stomach the extremely vivid depictions of incredibly brutal sexual violence. While it is important to look past the violence and see what it represents in the bigger picture, it is VERY graphic. Don't say I didn't warn you...
Now, American Psycho is an excellent book. Right up there in the pantheon of great American fiction with the Great Gatsby (while they are very different in both style and content, they both capture the essence of an era of moral and material excess brilliantly). The book is primarily a critique of the endless, maddening consumption of modern America and, especially, that era that represented the peak of our decadence, the 1980's. Our protagonist, 27 year old, Patrick Bateman (a Wall street exec.) becomes the avatar of yuppie excess and depravity. At first, during the first third of the book, Bateman indulges heavily in drugs, sex and booze (Not saintly behaviour but hardly shocking. It is set in the 80's after all...) and describes in exhaustive detail his various designer products and beauty routine. Boredom is used as a literary device to frame the shocking bursts of horrendous activity still to come.
In the second third, we are taken to the next stage of consumption. Murder. When you have consumed every product on the market, all that is left is to consume life itself. It is the only escape from the mundanity of life (and the inevitably of aging and death). Bateman begins to violently torture and murder everyone from hookers to tramps to co-workers.
In the final third, we gain an insight into the motivation behind such actions as Bateman begins to truly lose his mind (at one point he believes a cheerio is being interviewed on TV). Bateman's crimes reach new, shocking levels of vilence. The acts are described in such detail that they become as mind-numbing as the descriptions of designer clothes, showing us how even the extreme depths of human behaviour can become nothing more than a hollow, futile gesture against the vast nothingness of life. Bateman's life is an endless chasm and he knows it. It pains him how even with his wealth and beauty, his life is worth nothing and, in his own words, he seeks to inflict his pain on everyone. To him this is the only way to impose some meaning on his life. However, like everything else, this meaning is only superficial. It changes nothing.
To conclude, this book is a stunning insight into the dangers of consumerism and a still-relevant warning of how shallow said consumerism is. Unless we try to find something deeper in our lives than items and possessions, our world will descend into madness and depravity. A world of Batemans. If you read this book, do one thing. Heed that warning.
Now, American Psycho is an excellent book. Right up there in the pantheon of great American fiction with the Great Gatsby (while they are very different in both style and content, they both capture the essence of an era of moral and material excess brilliantly). The book is primarily a critique of the endless, maddening consumption of modern America and, especially, that era that represented the peak of our decadence, the 1980's. Our protagonist, 27 year old, Patrick Bateman (a Wall street exec.) becomes the avatar of yuppie excess and depravity. At first, during the first third of the book, Bateman indulges heavily in drugs, sex and booze (Not saintly behaviour but hardly shocking. It is set in the 80's after all...) and describes in exhaustive detail his various designer products and beauty routine. Boredom is used as a literary device to frame the shocking bursts of horrendous activity still to come.
In the second third, we are taken to the next stage of consumption. Murder. When you have consumed every product on the market, all that is left is to consume life itself. It is the only escape from the mundanity of life (and the inevitably of aging and death). Bateman begins to violently torture and murder everyone from hookers to tramps to co-workers.
In the final third, we gain an insight into the motivation behind such actions as Bateman begins to truly lose his mind (at one point he believes a cheerio is being interviewed on TV). Bateman's crimes reach new, shocking levels of vilence. The acts are described in such detail that they become as mind-numbing as the descriptions of designer clothes, showing us how even the extreme depths of human behaviour can become nothing more than a hollow, futile gesture against the vast nothingness of life. Bateman's life is an endless chasm and he knows it. It pains him how even with his wealth and beauty, his life is worth nothing and, in his own words, he seeks to inflict his pain on everyone. To him this is the only way to impose some meaning on his life. However, like everything else, this meaning is only superficial. It changes nothing.
To conclude, this book is a stunning insight into the dangers of consumerism and a still-relevant warning of how shallow said consumerism is. Unless we try to find something deeper in our lives than items and possessions, our world will descend into madness and depravity. A world of Batemans. If you read this book, do one thing. Heed that warning.
Monday, 22 November 2010
Lyraical Abortions Pt.3
Here's a song kind of based upon the old archetypal myth of the Vampiric siren, The Countess Bathory figure, stealing the life essence of those men who seek her to prolong her own unnatural life. So, a lovely, dark, gothic horror tale!
Upon night’s descent
I stole away
To see her beauty
To glimpse her face
Legends spoke
Of her countenance
Her milky skin
Her silken tress
Oh my Lady, I bow to thee
Thy love I crave
Thy great beauty
Oh my Lady, I dream of thee
On fevered nights
In reverie
Long I sought her
Desperately
With haunted thoughts
She burned in me
Of “The cruel siren”
I was told tales
Warned to desist
Lest I fall prey
The Siren called to me
In my dreaming mind
“Find me, my dearest”
She spoke to me
“And I will pledge my love to thee”
Years have passed in ceaseless search
Yet the siren still eludes me
At last I found her
Waiting for me
“thy life is mine
To satiate me”
Her terrible face
Gorgeous, cold
I will never forget
It haunts my soul
That day I died
Killed by the Siren’s darkened love
She stole my life
To prolong her own
Fed upon the souls
Of those who sought her hand
Immortal rites
Forever slaying…
Sunday, 7 November 2010
Methodical destruction...
Came up with a new bass excersise today (or accidentally came across a pre-existing one) and I thought I'd write it down here, if only to allow myself to remember it!
First you play the ascending half of a scale (minor, major, Dorian, whatever) starting on fret 3 or 5 according to personal comfort. Play this same ascending part of the scale moving up 2 frets each time. After doing this, play the descending half of the scale moving back towards where you started in the same way.
Once you have done this and feel comfortable playing it with different speeds and patterns (triplets, sixteenths etc.), reverse it! Play the descending half starting at where you began and after moving up the fretboard 4 times, play the ascending half moving back up. It's a cool, surprisingly taxing workout, good for improving your concentration, rhythm, speed and fretboard fluency. Well, wrote that in a pretty rambling style but at least it (kind of) makes sense to me! =D
First you play the ascending half of a scale (minor, major, Dorian, whatever) starting on fret 3 or 5 according to personal comfort. Play this same ascending part of the scale moving up 2 frets each time. After doing this, play the descending half of the scale moving back towards where you started in the same way.
Once you have done this and feel comfortable playing it with different speeds and patterns (triplets, sixteenths etc.), reverse it! Play the descending half starting at where you began and after moving up the fretboard 4 times, play the ascending half moving back up. It's a cool, surprisingly taxing workout, good for improving your concentration, rhythm, speed and fretboard fluency. Well, wrote that in a pretty rambling style but at least it (kind of) makes sense to me! =D
Sunday, 17 October 2010
Assorted thoughts:
Sooo, not written anything in a while! Nothing really mind-blowing to put down (because, clearly, my other posts are utterly mind-rapingly incredible and will be the basis of a future religion centred around the Goddess Katy Perry and her prophet, Thomas! Ahem...) so just going to write some musings from my lovely, misshapen head...
Well for one thing, Winter is a comin'! (Yep, I'm gonna talk about the weather, Britishness ftw!) I absolutely love Autumn and Winter, everytime we get to this time of year I feel as if there's magic in the air and in my veins and as if anything is possible. I think these feelings are partly just inspired by the beauty of this period in the year. Especially in lovely Scotland! Show me a more beautiful sight than the Scottish country in the winter and you'll have discovered a gateway to the magical land of Narnia! Then there's the cold... I love the cold... To most people it's uncomfortable, and reminds them of winter as a bringer of death: the dying leaves etc. I view it differently. The cold comes and banishes the scorching heat of the summertime...
So yeah, very excited about the coming winter! I feel this great romanticism and magic surrounding the period, which is pretty special considering I'm a cynical, atheist bastard!
Another thing on my mind (and everybody's!) is money, or as I like to style it, "moneh." Ironic isn't it, that now that I'm at uni with a decent income I have far more money woes! Money brings with it obligations and responsibilities; rent (for your parents if you live with them still), food, christmas presents for others, nights out etc. It's good though as it's forcing me to re-evaluate my frivolous attitude towards to moneh...
Well, that's it I guess... Have many other thoughts I could write but I'm too tired to sort through them and turn them into some kind of readable passage... Laters!
Well for one thing, Winter is a comin'! (Yep, I'm gonna talk about the weather, Britishness ftw!) I absolutely love Autumn and Winter, everytime we get to this time of year I feel as if there's magic in the air and in my veins and as if anything is possible. I think these feelings are partly just inspired by the beauty of this period in the year. Especially in lovely Scotland! Show me a more beautiful sight than the Scottish country in the winter and you'll have discovered a gateway to the magical land of Narnia! Then there's the cold... I love the cold... To most people it's uncomfortable, and reminds them of winter as a bringer of death: the dying leaves etc. I view it differently. The cold comes and banishes the scorching heat of the summertime...
So yeah, very excited about the coming winter! I feel this great romanticism and magic surrounding the period, which is pretty special considering I'm a cynical, atheist bastard!
Another thing on my mind (and everybody's!) is money, or as I like to style it, "moneh." Ironic isn't it, that now that I'm at uni with a decent income I have far more money woes! Money brings with it obligations and responsibilities; rent (for your parents if you live with them still), food, christmas presents for others, nights out etc. It's good though as it's forcing me to re-evaluate my frivolous attitude towards to moneh...
Well, that's it I guess... Have many other thoughts I could write but I'm too tired to sort through them and turn them into some kind of readable passage... Laters!
Sunday, 3 October 2010
Beautiful speech:
Just wanted to post this speech by Mario Savio:
"There comes a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can't take part, you can't even passively take part; and you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop, And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, the people who own it, that unless you're free the machine will be prevented from working at all."
A beautiful piece of oratory...
"There comes a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can't take part, you can't even passively take part; and you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop, And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, the people who own it, that unless you're free the machine will be prevented from working at all."
A beautiful piece of oratory...
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