Fortuitous occasions should be written about, right? I think they should be. Especially when, as with people like me; people who tend to talk to themselves (quite literally, I do), and especially around vacations spend most of their times reading, watching shows and generally avoiding people (or secretly celebrating when plans don’t pan out though I never admit it. Except now. Damn it, interwebs, y u so public?) the fortuitous moments are mostly found when we are all by our lonesome, and could be easily forgotten. Which of course begs the question of whether the moments are worth remembering at all, if my mind could forget them so easily. Well, no matter, leaving behind such inane and pointlessly philosophical questions, I now present to you, dear readers, some facts about music, the subject of which has been brought on by certain fortuitous coincidences. I’ve used the F word three times already. Your move, Monty Pythons. Who I’m sure are reading this.
I have been listening to not my usual playlist lately. That is to say I have added some stuff to the playlist. I rediscovered FNT by Semisonic. I fucking love that song and I don’t care that it was in 10 Things I Hate About You. I have also been going a bit overboard with the Dewarists, Shanker Tucker and a wee bit of Coke Studio, all of whom should be followed on Youtube by humans all over earth. Or maybe just India. Or people who, like me, have ears and similar taste in music. What do I know?
The F word coincidence was that Shanker Tucker’s Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo started playing exactly before I reached this part of Moab is My Washpot, which I faithfully reproduce for ye –
“The nothingness of music can be moulded by the listener into the most precise shapes or allowed to float as free as thought; music can follow the academic and theoretical pattern of its own modality or adhere to some narrative or dialectical programme imposed by a friend, a scholar or the composer himself. Music is everything and nothing. It is useless and no limit can be set on its use. Music takes me to places of illimitable sensual and insensate joy, accessing points of ecstacy that no angelic lover could ever locate, or plunging me into gibbering weeping hells of pain that no torturer could ever device. Music makes me write this sort of maundering adolescent nonsense without embarrassment. Music is in fact the dog’s bollocks. Nothing else comes close.”
Now usually, reading such a passage as this would turn me into a puddle of self-chastisement wherein I rue the day I ever thought I could write. I am not fit to lick the boot heels of one such as Fry, such as Yeats, such as any number of greats that in my fragile condition, I dare not remind you of. Assholes. But the fortuitous thing is that I happened to be listening to a particularly divine voice singing of not wanting a conversation or a balmy night (I assume the night would be balmy) to end. And even as I let myself get a little bent out of shape thinking of all the things Stephen Fry is better at doing than me, including getting men to like us, I am revived by the very thing he is talking about. I mean, how… what… eh…. is this irony? I am never sure if something like this is ironic. Especially because I just mentioned Stephen Fry and if say its irony and its not in fact irony, as legend goes, a homophobe baby would be born this very moment. And we don’t want that.
And now, since I have let young Master Fry talk about music (He’s still in school in the book) I fear there is no masterful way I can talk about it except in blatantly tiresome segues. And now, I note that I’m writing like him. Excuse me while I think about Sangria to contain my self-loathing. Joke. Inside joke. Apologies.
What I find is awesome about music is its ability to highlight small feelings and incidents. I am of the bent of mind where I don’t believe in great moments in a person’s life.There are great moments in history, sure. But no great moments for an individual. Allow me to explain. Every powerful life-changing moment in a single person’s life will inevitably be challenged by another moment, another argument, another person, anything else. I don’t believe in great truths or even simple truths (courtesy John Green). Every single decision or ‘truth’ you strike upon will eventually have to be revisited and moulded. And so every feeling is small, every thought is insignificant to a certain degree. By the way, someone enlighten me if this is in any way adhering to a philosophy that I have not come in contact with. What is great about music is that despite all the insignificance, it can capture and bring to life exactly why some insignificant moments and thoughts are worth remembering if for no other reason than that it was a part of life. All this ties up very neatly with the above mentioned confusion about whether or not some moments are worth remembering at all. This again is fortuitous because said neat tying up was not something I planned.
Which is why while I don’t have a dislike of any type of music except death metal and rap (for entirely personal taste reasons. I don’t care if other people like it) I will always be partial to music which doesn’t try to talk about the big picture. Whenever I have seen a big picture I usually step back and realise that its actually a giant phallus. Or maybe that’s just me. Either way, I always figured that the big picture is actually quite small when you put it in context of the entire human experience of even a single person. And so I adhere to what David Levithan said about the Beatles. Which I tried to capture this summer through the following drawing.
That’s not the exact quote from the book. Google that if you want it you lazy fucks. But I really tend to be more partial to music which doesn’t try to be bigger than one single life experience of one person. Because unless you’re talking about a freedom struggle or emancipation or something, you are simultaneously not doing them justice and giving them too.much credence. Things are not that simplistic and they are also too insignificant for you to make such a big deal about it. So here’s few other songs that I appreciate – Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo, Fascinating New Thing, Tujhse Naraz Nahi Zindagi (I really fucking love that this song basically says that things are just confusing and unclear – that’s a simple truth I can get behind), I can’t think of anything but Beatles now. Thanks David Levithan. Ass.
That’s all. Now fuck off. I want to read my pain.
me: Go on.
ME: I actually liked that.
ME: You should write more stuff like this. Where the wasteland that is your private life is not exposed for all to see, like some ghastly war wound that spouts blood and innards and nobody can do anything about.
me: There it is.
ME: I am nothing if not consistent.
Anyway,for anyone who reads this regularly enough to miss it, I have not been putting up any gifs or pictures lately because I’m not using my laptop except to read porn and my laptop is where my inconceivably big collection of funny pics and gifs reside. Right now for example. I wrote this entire post on my kindle. In my head, y’all are like
And I’m all *insert self-satisfied gif here.*
I have noticed that while I keep none of the promises I make to myself, due to a little thing called ego, I am keeping promises I made in this blog. Therefore, in an experiment that will no doubt have some major impact on my life, I vow to thee, readers who largely consist of my friends, that I shall be jogging at least five days a week during the course of these here holidays. If I don’t then the punishment of telling embarrassing secrets will be imposed on me. And since I have noted that telling these secrets have often helped me write, I have further decreed that they will be told without any writing skills and in the blandest, non-entertaining manner.
ME: You mean to say that all the shitty details of your past will be coming out, and you won’t be able to explain yourself or make entirely transparent self-deprecating jokes about it? *about to do happy dance*
me: Only if I don’t jog.
ME: Sure sure. *commencing happy dance*
me: They’re your secrets too, you know.
ME: Yeah, but I’m the side of you that delights in brutal honesty. *cackles
See you next week. Or sooner if I get inspired and what not.