A Little Left Of Centre

Holga!

tvashtar — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 12:09:38 +0000

First Pic from the Holga!

Bricks Needs Baths

tvashtar — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 13:37:55 +0000

Bricks Needs Baths, originally uploaded by nglynn.

Short Story Sprint Whiskeychat

tvashtar — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 22:31:18 +0000

Being the product of too many stout and whiskeys one evening on fade st.…

Isn’t pubbabble a wonderous thing? As the sages and thinkers of old were held raptured by the sound of little brooks, at once aimless and yet purposed are not those of a modern streak to be found contemplating just the same in licenced establishments nationwide? It is so. For does not the wandering brook sing a sweet song of anarchic predestination? Is it not emergent? Just as a drop itself cannot hold ones ear neither then can a lonely voice, and so it is with stoutscented speech, hollow in and of itself, manyfaceted in conjunction. Listen to them, and hold eyes on your glass. As the thinker once cupped up soundstuff from the river to quench his lips and unify with his muse so too shall you, the thick rhythmic conversation lies liquid in your glass. Which is it? Is it the dark soot black of eveningtalk, stoutcondensed gossiptalk, or is it the golden glow of whiskeychat, tenuously potent, and ever at peril of dissolving into air. And isn’t it here truth always lay? Not in the temples, nor in the confessionals, not in gavels, nor in lawcourts, isn’t it on riverbanks, isn’t it in dark pubs? It is so.

And I Endorse…

tvashtar — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 18:03:30 +0000

Munster Arrr Legens!

tvashtar — Mon, 26 May 2008 14:32:15 +0000

Could this be Ireland’s greatest victory since Collins’ loan blew Lenin’s mind?

Who’d of thought a cameraphone would actually work‽

tvashtar — Wed, 21 May 2008 14:17:31 +0000

…

Being an occasion to mention 3 things:

B.R.M.C were savage.
Cameraphones — against all expectations —are occasionally useful.
The Interrobang deserves more exposure, let’s make it happen.

My Album That Doesn’t Exist

tvashtar — Sat, 17 May 2008 15:40:41 +0000

Try it out…

An Exclusive Investment Opportunity, Courtesy of the James Joyce Cabal, POEE

tvashtar — Thu, 08 May 2008 20:30:55 +0000

Past performance is not a reliable guide to future performance. The value of your investment may go down as well as up.

Inaugural Message of the James Joyce Cabal, POEE

tvashtar — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 20:13:50 +0000

The Shelter of the World

tvashtar — Sat, 01 Mar 2008 14:32:43 +0000

…Being the First Published in a DisExtinguished Line of Abortive Reviews.

The story recounts the imaginative exploits of one جلال الدین محمد اکبر, Jalaluddin Muhammad Akbar, or as he liked to be known: Akbar the Great. Much to my shame I have not read anything else by Rushdie so beyond my knowledge of him looking from the outside in I did not know what to expect. The result was a story which seemed to zoom between perspectives while never jarring me with cuts.

It tells of Akbar in his middle years, having set in motion the construction of his dream city of Sikri, and betwixt a series of successful military campaigns. Having reached his middle years Akbar becomes aware of the respect, bordering on terror, his subjects feel in his presence, and falls victim to a bout of contemplation on the nature of his authority. All his life he has used the singular pronoun ‘We’ in place of the poor mans solace ‘I’. He does this because with his God Given role as emperor he becomes a conduit for the popular and divine will. It is through Akbar that a praxis of divinity is manifested as governance, and so he cannot claim the individuality that his subjects, in a sense, enjoy. This perplexes Akbar, and he questions on what grounds he truly claims this authority. He experiences the pangs of alienation — not from the singing and craic of the pubs and common culture — but from the very idea of existing as a thing in oneself.

Rushdie at once gives Akbar the distance and perspective which befits a direct descendant of his benevolence, Genghis Khan, and gradually allows us to see into the mind of Akbar. In a very real sense we see how Akbars mind and the the world he governs are at one. This is as much manifest politically as personally. Akbar has many wives, but his most precious and beloved wife has the unfortunate characteristic of non-existence. Jodha is an artifact of his imagination, and yet exerts more control over him than any other. Initially she seems somewhat elusive, docile, fantastic. As the story wears on however she asserts herself, with reactivity displacing receptivity.

In an interesting sense we can compare Akbars political role with his wife’s mental role. If Akbar is the manifestation of popular will, and Akbars thoughts are the living breathing stuff of the populace, in what sense can we say that his imagined wife does not exist? Akbar exists only as a vessel to hold the thoughts of his people, so why so shocked the vessels contents ferment? Akbar is the Medieval Prometheus, no longer content to manifest the will of the world he injects his own will into it: “The creation of a real life from a dream was a superhuman act, usurping the prerogative of the gods”. In a conversation between emperor and queen, Jodha — the escapee — makes clear their world logic:

“We are their Dream, and They are Ours”.

When then, shall we all wake up?

You can find “The Shelter of the World” here.