29th December 2007
Operations Director
First Capital Connect
Dear Sir or Madam,
First Capital Connect (ex-Thameslink) line – Sunday 23rd December 2007
It is unusual to find it necessary to take the step of writing in complaint about a train service – here in the United Kingdom, it is almost expected for there to be problems with them. In fact, my occasional use of the railway service offered by the First group has led me to expect problems: but I am sure you are aware of this.
I write specifically to complain about the service I received on the morning of Sunday 23rd December. By profession I am a musician, and on Sunday mornings I am contracted to play the organ for a large parish church with a fine music tradition. In order to get to the church on this particular Sunday, I needed to get from Highgate to Kilburn (where my car was parked) and drive on the M1 to the church. Here is the key point: I planned my journey beforehand to make sure it was possible – from National Rail Enquiries (both online and by phone) at several points during the day I made sure that there was a train from Kentish Town to West Hampstead at 0736. At several points there was. When I got up at 7am on 23rd December, I checked once more – there was very definitely a train at 0736 (note – I say ‘a train’ – this is important to remember as I use National Rail Enquiries regularly and I am aware of how it denotes busses.) I am also fully aware that First Capital Connect ‘cannot be held responsible for information given by National Rail Enquiries’, but conversely, you can be held responsible for the information given to National Rail Enquiries. I should, once again, point out that at 7am, the information was that a service would run between Kentish Town and West Hampstead (taking 4 minutes) at 0736.
Arriving at Kentish Town station at roughly 0725, I noted from the platform indicator as well as the list of trains that the first train of the day had been cancelled and that the 0736 had been delayed until 0742. There were people still standing on the platform from the first cancelled train. It was fine because it showed the train on the platform indicator on the platform. Gradually the train was getting later and later, so at 0743 I pressed the information point and after about two minutes of ringing, someone answered. I enquired as to whether the FCC train would be running (actually, I enquired as to whether the Thameslink train would be running – the person at the other end seemed to find the change in company more important than the information I was after). I was casually informed, as if it were obvious, that there were no trains that morning and there were replacement busses to Mill Hill. Of course, I pointed out to the gentleman that there was no indication on the platform nor on the station that this was the case – likewise I pointed out that there had been no such information on National Rail Enquiries that day or in fact the day before and asked him to check again (presumably replacement busses are not able to be arranged Harry Potter-style at the flick of a wand). The other people standing on the platform underlined the lack of information just by being there. Anyhow, it was already passed 0745 and the train was still showing on the indicator as being due at 0745 and the other people were still on the platform. I rushed up to the station entrance – the member of staff knew nothing about replacement busses nor was there any clear place for them to go from. It strikes me as ludicrous that you, as a company, can get away with replacing trains with busses at late notice, not inform ANYBODY, and even more than that not provide a member of staff at stations to direct people. It is symptomatic of the bad service I receive 7 out of 10 times I use a line managed by First group – nobody will take responsibility for anything.
Clearly I was late for my work that morning as I had to then take the tube into London and out again. It did involve me driving dangerously along the M1 in thick fog to get there, but I was the lucky one; there were people on that platform due to take planes from Luton and they certainly did not look like the people who had purchased flexible tickets: I certainly hope that if their planes were not grounded by the fog, that they have claimed full compensation from you for their then invalid plane tickets.
In writing this letter, I do not expect any sort of compensation or any sort of response. I wrote to First group once before with reams of evidence of misinformation and being passed from pillar to post, and all I received was a one paragraph ‘round-robin’-type letter that is just like the one a long-lost relative sends to everyone at Christmas and often goes straight in the bin for being so impersonal. I am well aware that trains sometimes cannot run and must be replaced by busses – but how it cannot matter to you if your customers know or not is just ridiculous.
There is just disbelief in my mind that this situation can be allowed to happen and that there are clearly no processes in place to follow if there is a replacement bus service – even as much as automatically changing the platform indicators. Perhaps the people who are in charge never actually take the train because they can afford cars in London and are thus out-of-touch with what service consumers should get.
I sincerely hope that I do not have to experience this situation again.
Yours faithfully
Jonathan Lee
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Lend me a sheckel
I am very fortunate to have a great number of talented friends – some are excellent musicians, a few are wordsmiths of great ability, several just have minds that leave my brain choking, some lay their eggs in several baskets (and that’s me talking about metaphorical eggs of talent), but all of them have amazing capacity for love and friendship that leave me in awe of brilliant they are as whole people. Sometimes others don’t understand my view, often I don’t share my insight because you cannot force friendships.
One of life’s pleasures that I think we all overlook far too frequently, is the observance and awe of someone else’s skills. I find it amazing that I can know someone for ten years and still find out skills. As I did yesterday. My friend John flew me across from London Luton to Bucharest in Romania. Yes, that’s right, FLEW ME. Fully able to operate this inconceivable notion that 20,000 tonnes of metal and £30,000 of fuel, not to mention hundreds of passengers and bags, can be made airborne! Of course I knew he flew planes, but seeing it action is amazing – and makes me, as a friend, full of pride for this miracle of knowledge and learning. It was the same when I first discovered Rel’s mind and literary analysis, first saw Gavin’s music training skills, first read one of Ben’s poems and saw his drawing, first saw one of James’ shows. Isn’t it fantastic how life persists as a moving gallery of individuality – pictures at a moving exhibition.
Naturally, I told John how in awe I was at his abilities to fly a plane – to know what all those switches do. (A cockpit is the daily fix for a gadget lover.) At that point, John pointed out, that the same could be said when he first heard me performing music. It is true – that to me is just normal and not impressive at all – I don’t really believe I’m that unusual, but then for John, transferring this huge bird from one part of the world to another is merely normal.
I never forget the pride that occurs when I see a friend in action, propagating his or her talent, and it just heightens the love and bond I feel for them. It was the subject of muse this evening as I went for a walk around Bucharest in search of a beer and an explore of the nightlife. Crossing the roads around Pieta Unirii I spotted the complex logic of the road system. It struck me as faintly absurd how a nation that appears to have nearly as chaotic driving as Italy (oh yes – I know that’s bad!) is also able to navigate a complex road system efficiently. Yes, I’m aware that that is incorrect politically, but that is a rant entry one day. Certainly, we all assume chaos as being a disordered and maybe random thing. But chaos, I suppose is merely a concept that is attributed by the bystander – there is nothing to stop chaos being just a heightened logic – what appears chaotic may in fact be higher logic. Then there is the problem that the word ‘higher’ will need deciphering. Higher in this case is irrelevant I suppose. It is just another form of logic.
The same is true of talents – what may appear chaotic or higher is simply just another form. Just like the road system in Bucharest is designed for Romanian drivers (who are a bit like Italian drivers), and the road system in London is designed for British drivers (or their drivers!); a plane cockpit is designed for a pilot – not an organist.
It often makes me angry in life that the growing breed of ‘business administrators’ own (or rather try to own) the talents of these people. Yes, you are right, administering a business has a talent, but its skill is but common sense and the ability to theorize. Chief Executives of companies are paid to make creative and brilliant people work to their orders and consequently the whole force of humanity runs out of momentum and sensibility. Instead of being able to see and harness brilliance and the way it works, they push it so it runs dry – in order to make money.
Anyway, this started about talents and my brilliant friends who I love very much. Keep surprising me – you are all the heartbeat of life.
JL
One of life’s pleasures that I think we all overlook far too frequently, is the observance and awe of someone else’s skills. I find it amazing that I can know someone for ten years and still find out skills. As I did yesterday. My friend John flew me across from London Luton to Bucharest in Romania. Yes, that’s right, FLEW ME. Fully able to operate this inconceivable notion that 20,000 tonnes of metal and £30,000 of fuel, not to mention hundreds of passengers and bags, can be made airborne! Of course I knew he flew planes, but seeing it action is amazing – and makes me, as a friend, full of pride for this miracle of knowledge and learning. It was the same when I first discovered Rel’s mind and literary analysis, first saw Gavin’s music training skills, first read one of Ben’s poems and saw his drawing, first saw one of James’ shows. Isn’t it fantastic how life persists as a moving gallery of individuality – pictures at a moving exhibition.
Naturally, I told John how in awe I was at his abilities to fly a plane – to know what all those switches do. (A cockpit is the daily fix for a gadget lover.) At that point, John pointed out, that the same could be said when he first heard me performing music. It is true – that to me is just normal and not impressive at all – I don’t really believe I’m that unusual, but then for John, transferring this huge bird from one part of the world to another is merely normal.
I never forget the pride that occurs when I see a friend in action, propagating his or her talent, and it just heightens the love and bond I feel for them. It was the subject of muse this evening as I went for a walk around Bucharest in search of a beer and an explore of the nightlife. Crossing the roads around Pieta Unirii I spotted the complex logic of the road system. It struck me as faintly absurd how a nation that appears to have nearly as chaotic driving as Italy (oh yes – I know that’s bad!) is also able to navigate a complex road system efficiently. Yes, I’m aware that that is incorrect politically, but that is a rant entry one day. Certainly, we all assume chaos as being a disordered and maybe random thing. But chaos, I suppose is merely a concept that is attributed by the bystander – there is nothing to stop chaos being just a heightened logic – what appears chaotic may in fact be higher logic. Then there is the problem that the word ‘higher’ will need deciphering. Higher in this case is irrelevant I suppose. It is just another form of logic.
The same is true of talents – what may appear chaotic or higher is simply just another form. Just like the road system in Bucharest is designed for Romanian drivers (who are a bit like Italian drivers), and the road system in London is designed for British drivers (or their drivers!); a plane cockpit is designed for a pilot – not an organist.
It often makes me angry in life that the growing breed of ‘business administrators’ own (or rather try to own) the talents of these people. Yes, you are right, administering a business has a talent, but its skill is but common sense and the ability to theorize. Chief Executives of companies are paid to make creative and brilliant people work to their orders and consequently the whole force of humanity runs out of momentum and sensibility. Instead of being able to see and harness brilliance and the way it works, they push it so it runs dry – in order to make money.
Anyway, this started about talents and my brilliant friends who I love very much. Keep surprising me – you are all the heartbeat of life.
JL
Monday, July 23, 2007
The ONLY thing to do in London this weekend...
AND watch this...
If you haven't watched it, go back and try again.
JL
If you haven't watched it, go back and try again.
JL
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
It's curious for me to realise that my last post was over a month ago. My head has only once been more full; you should surely be able to see this on this site? Of course you can - but recently my head has been so full and I have been so sporadic in life to tie down thoughts in order to write them down. It is also interesting that I'm not sleeping much. A great fan of sleep, I often find myself wishing that the day would continue so the next would not continue in the pattern things are assuming. At the moment, I am sitting on my balcony looking over the trees at the 'would-be-beautiful' but 'tainted-by-London-lights' sky. I feel real. I feel me. But I still feel unnecessarily aware of the monotony of my life. Alone. Lonely. Same as yesterday. No progression. No surprises.
We've all said it at some point. It is all a lie. We try to tie ourselves up - we are ashamed of our being. What we are looking for is not something new - I could keep jumping careers and up ladders until I'm dead. What we are looking for is excitement in the spontaneity of love. I've only fallen in love at the most twice, never reciporacated; the search will continue. I know and think that I try and push the abilities of people to help in that search. It is curious how in that particular search - in that curious desire, like more chilli in the curry, we force to find. In return, some amongst us find nothing but falsity and a crash.
Can one have half a dimension?
JL
We've all said it at some point. It is all a lie. We try to tie ourselves up - we are ashamed of our being. What we are looking for is not something new - I could keep jumping careers and up ladders until I'm dead. What we are looking for is excitement in the spontaneity of love. I've only fallen in love at the most twice, never reciporacated; the search will continue. I know and think that I try and push the abilities of people to help in that search. It is curious how in that particular search - in that curious desire, like more chilli in the curry, we force to find. In return, some amongst us find nothing but falsity and a crash.
Can one have half a dimension?
JL
Sunday, May 13, 2007
NIght time brings...
Knowing other people is intelligence, knowing yourself is wisdom. Mastering other people is strength, mastering yourself is power. If you realize that what you have is enough you are truly rich. Stay in the center and embrace peace, simplcity, patience and compassion. Embrace the possibility of life and you will endure.
A second is no more than a second, a minute no more than a minute, a day no more than a day. They pass. All things and all time will pass. Don't force or fear, don't control or lose control. Don't fight and don't stop fighting. Embrace and endure. If you embrace, you will endure.
A second is no more than a second, a minute no more than a minute, a day no more than a day. They pass. All things and all time will pass. Don't force or fear, don't control or lose control. Don't fight and don't stop fighting. Embrace and endure. If you embrace, you will endure.
Friday, May 04, 2007
I left work this afternoon to travel to the British Library. Nothing unusual about that. I've been feeling very thoughtful recently - it always comes back to the same problem, and that is that I'm bored; because I'm bored, nothing surprises me anymore - my brain has slowed to the speed of the world around me.
Getting onto the circle line, the obligatory cruising man checked me out - in a totally non-surprising way, he picked up his mobile phone, presumably to check bluetooth for me, and presumably he found me. I just read my book because I didn't feel surprised or engaged by any of it. The tube train smelt of a stale fart - again, not surprising - it always does and always will; if the Romans had invented the London underground, you can bet that if would have smelt like a stale fart. Just before getting off at St. Pancras, a perfectly formed droplet of sweat formed on my upper back and travelled its way down, reflexing my nerves in a sensual but predicted way; this crystalline beauty of nature was destroyed and crushed by my synthetic shirt just as it felt cold above the waistband in the small of my back. A totally unsurprising pleasure.
The British Library is full of rules - in fact it is the most rule-ridden library that I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with. You're only allowed to order 10 books a day, you're not allowed to order images by letter, and things are totally inflexible when you ask nicely for them to be changed. But then, everywhere is like that now - we are a society thriving on equal rights, and in this country at least, people create rules in order to make people have authority. However, we all have our own rules, we all stubbornly give ourselves things we mustn't do, and reactions to something because we want to retain our authority as people - our pride and standing.
It occurred to me whilst I was musing about these things, that I can't remember the last time I was surprised by something or someone. I love beauty and perfection, and I see a bit of beauty and perfection in most things. On a proportional scale, the things that have more beauty and perfection I associate myself with more - my close friends I identify as having a beauty and perfection that attracts me greatly (obviously some imperfection is beautiful and attractive as well). Why, however, can't I be surprised? Why do I predict so well? Why am I always disappointed when something appears beautiful but is disturbed by life - just like nature's drop of sweat?
The truth is of course that I am bored, and the beauty and surprise is happening all the time. I don't allow myself to feel surprised because I have given myself that rule. Why, for example, am I surprised when friends reply to text messages, but disappointed when they don't? It is because I have a rule of politeness I adhere to - but that is not beautiful - it is a bad rule. What should be beautiful is that a concious decision is made not to reply - against a conditioned politeness, and creates in its wake a beautiful possibility. Alas, I would see this were I not bored.
Surprise is real. I met my friend Clare in the library. She is off to Los Angeles in a week to become a research fellow. We had coffee together and laughed and bounced ideas and became truly organic: I met Clare on my first day in Cambridge and she is fully spontaneous - it is her beauty. I was surprised, and enjoyed.
The question is, do I become boring and predictable by trying to surprise people myself? I believe I do. I like imagining peoples' reactions to things I do - I like people to smile as a result of Jon. Potential or metaphorical narcissus? Maybe. But am I predictable. Does one cease to be organic if you are bored? Do you work by rules?
Possibly.
Rel has been held up on the mongolian border for about a week with visa problems and trying to explain to people in a small Russian town in the middle of nowhere exactly what she is after. Frustrating to her - to me that sounds exciting - imagine waking each day with a slightly quick heartbeat - what is going to happen today?
I intend to be surprising and work my way out of my boredom. Life change is needed.
Surprise me by doing something out of character if you fancy it ...
JL
Getting onto the circle line, the obligatory cruising man checked me out - in a totally non-surprising way, he picked up his mobile phone, presumably to check bluetooth for me, and presumably he found me. I just read my book because I didn't feel surprised or engaged by any of it. The tube train smelt of a stale fart - again, not surprising - it always does and always will; if the Romans had invented the London underground, you can bet that if would have smelt like a stale fart. Just before getting off at St. Pancras, a perfectly formed droplet of sweat formed on my upper back and travelled its way down, reflexing my nerves in a sensual but predicted way; this crystalline beauty of nature was destroyed and crushed by my synthetic shirt just as it felt cold above the waistband in the small of my back. A totally unsurprising pleasure.
The British Library is full of rules - in fact it is the most rule-ridden library that I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with. You're only allowed to order 10 books a day, you're not allowed to order images by letter, and things are totally inflexible when you ask nicely for them to be changed. But then, everywhere is like that now - we are a society thriving on equal rights, and in this country at least, people create rules in order to make people have authority. However, we all have our own rules, we all stubbornly give ourselves things we mustn't do, and reactions to something because we want to retain our authority as people - our pride and standing.
It occurred to me whilst I was musing about these things, that I can't remember the last time I was surprised by something or someone. I love beauty and perfection, and I see a bit of beauty and perfection in most things. On a proportional scale, the things that have more beauty and perfection I associate myself with more - my close friends I identify as having a beauty and perfection that attracts me greatly (obviously some imperfection is beautiful and attractive as well). Why, however, can't I be surprised? Why do I predict so well? Why am I always disappointed when something appears beautiful but is disturbed by life - just like nature's drop of sweat?
The truth is of course that I am bored, and the beauty and surprise is happening all the time. I don't allow myself to feel surprised because I have given myself that rule. Why, for example, am I surprised when friends reply to text messages, but disappointed when they don't? It is because I have a rule of politeness I adhere to - but that is not beautiful - it is a bad rule. What should be beautiful is that a concious decision is made not to reply - against a conditioned politeness, and creates in its wake a beautiful possibility. Alas, I would see this were I not bored.
Surprise is real. I met my friend Clare in the library. She is off to Los Angeles in a week to become a research fellow. We had coffee together and laughed and bounced ideas and became truly organic: I met Clare on my first day in Cambridge and she is fully spontaneous - it is her beauty. I was surprised, and enjoyed.
The question is, do I become boring and predictable by trying to surprise people myself? I believe I do. I like imagining peoples' reactions to things I do - I like people to smile as a result of Jon. Potential or metaphorical narcissus? Maybe. But am I predictable. Does one cease to be organic if you are bored? Do you work by rules?
Possibly.
Rel has been held up on the mongolian border for about a week with visa problems and trying to explain to people in a small Russian town in the middle of nowhere exactly what she is after. Frustrating to her - to me that sounds exciting - imagine waking each day with a slightly quick heartbeat - what is going to happen today?
I intend to be surprising and work my way out of my boredom. Life change is needed.
Surprise me by doing something out of character if you fancy it ...
JL
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Variation versus synchronicity
The brain is an amazing place. For the past four or five hours, my brain has been a mental fire and I have been jumping around trying to collect the blue oxygenated flames that lurk therein. I sit here in silence except for the beauty of the Goldberg variations and the sound of the trees in my garden, and with the cold breeze of the fully open window hitting my bare shoulder.
When I was a keen school pupil, I took time off school and went to a performance of Cosi at the Royal Opera House; it was a performance in modern dress. To this day, if you talk to me about this performance, I will tell you that it was uncomfortable - I'm one for period costume in Mozart. As my good friend David once said to me on the occasion of going back to College to pick up our MAs,
"the stage is the same, but the players are different".
I know I have quoted this before, but right now it seems to add to my thought.
*
When I was younger, I used to play hide & seek - it was a game: a childish game - it was fun. The best thing about hide & seek was that no matter how difficult the place you hid was to find, someone would always find you. What if no one ever found you?
My evening has been a bit odd because it all happened rather spontaneously - my mind is all over the place at the moment both in career terms and in personal terms (fundementally, I have a lot to sort out, but I've got to learn to be happy with my 'lot' first).
I found myself having a lovely dinner in Waterloo with Gavin and Nigel. On my way home, I noticed the buildings: isn't it strange how over the course of modern-human existence, our arguments remain the same, it is only the set that has evolved. In the modern religious wars (and the other major and minor arguments) there is very little changed about the script since the beginning of time, just the players and the set - just like the Mozart opera I went to see.
A city like London is such a construct. It is such a frail existence - it exists as a place humans like myself try to hide in - to continue our existence as set designers for the cyclical arguments of time; I could live in this hide & seek world forever believing I'm living the most exciting and most creative life imaginable - except that the real excitement is not there because noone will come to find me - I'm the only one who can find myself. I know that I'm about to directly contradict about 3 posts ago -but then any man who claims to have the answer to anything is just stubborn - I may have said this about 20 posts ago.
It is interesting that living in my city 'construct' there are two places I go to escape this non-reality; the first is the river - the most natural place within the city, and the second is my holodeck. Jon's holodeck is his close friends: it is a curious retrograde inversion that my holodeck is more real than the construct I live in. The problem with the construct is that it is full of stupid rules about how you must do things - how you must live. The city constuct is the breeding place for the ridiculous rules of society: take a look at this excellent cynical look at the rules we fall into line and follow -
These ridiculous rules have even infiltrated my holodeck. I am disappointed every time I try to be organic - it is ignored by the conscience of infiltrating rules. The most obvious parts of any script are the parts that are not there - the parts never acknowledged in communication. That said, I know I would be hypocritical were I to condemn this.
Thus far, my only answer to escape the false framework of hiding people within the city constuct of society's headquarters, constantly evolving to recreate the view of the computer game, is to escape to a wild place in the country next to the sea for ever. In order for it to work, I would need to take my close people with me... but I can't... it is too late... we are all bitten by the construct sooner or later - do you remember the computer game 'lemmings'? Why can't people be real any more? Why can't people express organic feeling? Why is everyone gradually turning to concrete? Am I the only one who sees it? I don't feel it anymore - that feeling of destruction every time it happens, I just feel a bit of myself die every time.
None of this is real: nothing feels real anymore. I'm bitten.
JL
When I was a keen school pupil, I took time off school and went to a performance of Cosi at the Royal Opera House; it was a performance in modern dress. To this day, if you talk to me about this performance, I will tell you that it was uncomfortable - I'm one for period costume in Mozart. As my good friend David once said to me on the occasion of going back to College to pick up our MAs,
"the stage is the same, but the players are different".
I know I have quoted this before, but right now it seems to add to my thought.
*
When I was younger, I used to play hide & seek - it was a game: a childish game - it was fun. The best thing about hide & seek was that no matter how difficult the place you hid was to find, someone would always find you. What if no one ever found you?
My evening has been a bit odd because it all happened rather spontaneously - my mind is all over the place at the moment both in career terms and in personal terms (fundementally, I have a lot to sort out, but I've got to learn to be happy with my 'lot' first).
I found myself having a lovely dinner in Waterloo with Gavin and Nigel. On my way home, I noticed the buildings: isn't it strange how over the course of modern-human existence, our arguments remain the same, it is only the set that has evolved. In the modern religious wars (and the other major and minor arguments) there is very little changed about the script since the beginning of time, just the players and the set - just like the Mozart opera I went to see.
A city like London is such a construct. It is such a frail existence - it exists as a place humans like myself try to hide in - to continue our existence as set designers for the cyclical arguments of time; I could live in this hide & seek world forever believing I'm living the most exciting and most creative life imaginable - except that the real excitement is not there because noone will come to find me - I'm the only one who can find myself. I know that I'm about to directly contradict about 3 posts ago -but then any man who claims to have the answer to anything is just stubborn - I may have said this about 20 posts ago.
It is interesting that living in my city 'construct' there are two places I go to escape this non-reality; the first is the river - the most natural place within the city, and the second is my holodeck. Jon's holodeck is his close friends: it is a curious retrograde inversion that my holodeck is more real than the construct I live in. The problem with the construct is that it is full of stupid rules about how you must do things - how you must live. The city constuct is the breeding place for the ridiculous rules of society: take a look at this excellent cynical look at the rules we fall into line and follow -
These ridiculous rules have even infiltrated my holodeck. I am disappointed every time I try to be organic - it is ignored by the conscience of infiltrating rules. The most obvious parts of any script are the parts that are not there - the parts never acknowledged in communication. That said, I know I would be hypocritical were I to condemn this.
Thus far, my only answer to escape the false framework of hiding people within the city constuct of society's headquarters, constantly evolving to recreate the view of the computer game, is to escape to a wild place in the country next to the sea for ever. In order for it to work, I would need to take my close people with me... but I can't... it is too late... we are all bitten by the construct sooner or later - do you remember the computer game 'lemmings'? Why can't people be real any more? Why can't people express organic feeling? Why is everyone gradually turning to concrete? Am I the only one who sees it? I don't feel it anymore - that feeling of destruction every time it happens, I just feel a bit of myself die every time.
None of this is real: nothing feels real anymore. I'm bitten.
JL
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
The secrets of cinema.
Those of you in awe at atmosphere and the creation of complex emotional soundfield in filmatic work, would do well to watch this video:
Here
Here
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Survival
Look at me and all my sudden postings.
My day thus far has involved waking up so hungover it was untrue and fiddling around on the the internet. I am buoyed by my ability to get home successfully from Camden at 2am and not remember a detail of how I did it. Quite impressive. I had been to a 'bad friday' party at Russell's.
Anyhow, sitting sur la balcon noch einmal, I have uploaded some photos from my phone.
You will find them here:
Extra photos
I'm going back to my hangover.
JL
My day thus far has involved waking up so hungover it was untrue and fiddling around on the the internet. I am buoyed by my ability to get home successfully from Camden at 2am and not remember a detail of how I did it. Quite impressive. I had been to a 'bad friday' party at Russell's.
Anyhow, sitting sur la balcon noch einmal, I have uploaded some photos from my phone.
You will find them here:
Extra photos
I'm going back to my hangover.
JL
Friday, April 06, 2007
Ants in your pants?
A few weeks ago, I went for a drink with Simon in Angel. It's not really a part of London I visit very often - indeed, probably only a few times a year. It is a shame because it exists with fabulous bars, good humour and jollity of experience. On my way to meet Simon there, I was alas on the Northern line; in my carriage, a lady had a newspaper with the headline, 'Who am I?'.
For someone like me, a headline like that is a slide - with a gradient just off vertical -* right down to the depths of philosophy.
Walking up and out of Angel, I had a sudden vision of an ants' nest. All the people exiting the station to fulfil a function -* to do something.
It occurred to me, as it has done before, that even the people running up the escalator wailing in show to others are fulfilling a funtion. Those people exiting the tube believing they are different and totally unusual are still entirely predictable in humanity by their randomness. It is only one stage away from ants leaving the nest, in the way they do, to fulfil individual functions that benefit the whole. I've always believed in a 'counter-balance' society - the belief that such groups as the far-right wing of the Catholic church and the far wing of the evangelical church, or Anti-vivisectionists and pro-vivisectionists, all exist in counter-balance to provide general stability to society. Ants work like this if you believe what the natural media will tell you.
It disappoints me to believe that in the same way that I catergorize people I know, other people catergorize me, and know my reaction to everything... or at least can predict it because I have 'a certain function'.
I can't remember the last time that I was genuinely surprised in a good way. Shocking.
Maybe I'm in the wrong place, and I've grown comfortable to London, and need to move to excitement again. I notoriously get bored very easily... and I have been here for 4 1/2 years...
Or maybe there is just no such thing as personality, just a pre-determined existence in counter-balance to create stability...
Thought...
JL
Ps. Blogger.com, PLEASE will you allow en-rules in your character set? Some of us do like to TRY and punctuate with correct symbols.
For someone like me, a headline like that is a slide - with a gradient just off vertical -* right down to the depths of philosophy.
Walking up and out of Angel, I had a sudden vision of an ants' nest. All the people exiting the station to fulfil a function -* to do something.
It occurred to me, as it has done before, that even the people running up the escalator wailing in show to others are fulfilling a funtion. Those people exiting the tube believing they are different and totally unusual are still entirely predictable in humanity by their randomness. It is only one stage away from ants leaving the nest, in the way they do, to fulfil individual functions that benefit the whole. I've always believed in a 'counter-balance' society - the belief that such groups as the far-right wing of the Catholic church and the far wing of the evangelical church, or Anti-vivisectionists and pro-vivisectionists, all exist in counter-balance to provide general stability to society. Ants work like this if you believe what the natural media will tell you.
It disappoints me to believe that in the same way that I catergorize people I know, other people catergorize me, and know my reaction to everything... or at least can predict it because I have 'a certain function'.
I can't remember the last time that I was genuinely surprised in a good way. Shocking.
Maybe I'm in the wrong place, and I've grown comfortable to London, and need to move to excitement again. I notoriously get bored very easily... and I have been here for 4 1/2 years...
Or maybe there is just no such thing as personality, just a pre-determined existence in counter-balance to create stability...
Thought...
JL
Ps. Blogger.com, PLEASE will you allow en-rules in your character set? Some of us do like to TRY and punctuate with correct symbols.
The Wasp and the light
I've been aware for sometime that things are changing; when I say 'things', I refer more directly to my life. This current tide change has been at work since the early part of this year.
Sitting on a tube train earlier, a tube train that later broke down and sent me along the tracks in de-trainment, I noticed something. A wasp was throwing itself at a fluorescent light again and again in the futile hope that it would escape into the world where it more properly belongs. This hot, synthetic tube repelled him, yet the wasp continued in its quest. (For all you left-wing feminists reading, I make no apologies that the wasp is a man, in the same way that I wouldn't make apologies for flawed liberalism.) The wasp couldn't escape because of his attraction to something bright and promising and yet fake and ultimately fatal. As an adjunct of mere anecdotal use, I had just been into a supermarket and purchased a pizza for tea, avoiding the slightly less-bright packaging and much-more-healthy looking vegetables nearby. I've always had the ability to empty my head of this sort of attraction, and sideline it. Pizza I know is bad for me, but is a fluorescent light; other objects I do well to put away and let them live on the important sidelines of my exsistence, rather than be destructive attractors like pizza.
On Good Friday, Christians learn of a scripture being fulfilled - the death of Jesus in a way fortold and predicted in detail. I sometimes wonder whether I have an ability of future prediction, or whether my skills of logic are just quite finely honed. Arrogant perhaps? But arrogance is really very rarely me these days. When I came home from playing the organ, I did several similar things. Two of them were identical except in one respect, and I predicted the result correctly both times. The actual details are irrelavent.
A tide change, Good Friday, wasps attracted to lights? Mad? Quite possibly. We are all attracted to things that are not good for us - whether a light, whether a pizza, or whether other abstract things; there is always something better, like a salad, that we don't notice, or just don't think. I'm not talking about 'living a little' and 'letting one's hair down'; those who know me know that the admonishment of vice, or something you enjoy is entirely alien to my being. Yes. It is the being, the soul, the care of self to which I refer.
It all started in about December 2005. I knew from the moment an abstract connection was made, that there would be a gradual decline that could all but destroy me. It nearly has once or twice, but I find myself in the situation at the moment of knowing that in the next short while, I will make a gesture of personal sacrifice - sacrificing some mind things I enjoy on my sidelines, that will combine to create a fluorescent light that could hurt me much. The past few months have been a time of resigning myself to it, and in fact I do believe actual synthesis of these organic, sideline elements has already occurred, and is currently my percieved 'dangerous synthesis' in deception already. The personal sacrifice I shall make will be to give the synthesis a 'justification in time' to exist. In doing so, I will give life to something amazing, as I have done before (but not to this level), by letting it take all my emotional energy. It will exist, and I will nod in surprise, and everything will be fine. It will take me a year to recover, potentially longer, but I shall fight because it will eventually enhance my life dramatically. I find it all exciting.
I worry sometimes about how easy I find it to predict these things - I do believe in synchronicity, and my two tests when I arrived home proved a fulfilment of this to my mind.
On the positive side, I'm sitting on my balcony watching squirrels jumping in the trees, wishing I was free like that too; perhaps I will be soon. I intend to sit here with another Gin, eat a pizza, listen to the birds singing, watch the sun go down, and go off to enjoy the last night of penitence before the kindling of the new fire, and the beginning of what promises to be quite an interesting but exciting space of time.
JL
Sitting on a tube train earlier, a tube train that later broke down and sent me along the tracks in de-trainment, I noticed something. A wasp was throwing itself at a fluorescent light again and again in the futile hope that it would escape into the world where it more properly belongs. This hot, synthetic tube repelled him, yet the wasp continued in its quest. (For all you left-wing feminists reading, I make no apologies that the wasp is a man, in the same way that I wouldn't make apologies for flawed liberalism.) The wasp couldn't escape because of his attraction to something bright and promising and yet fake and ultimately fatal. As an adjunct of mere anecdotal use, I had just been into a supermarket and purchased a pizza for tea, avoiding the slightly less-bright packaging and much-more-healthy looking vegetables nearby. I've always had the ability to empty my head of this sort of attraction, and sideline it. Pizza I know is bad for me, but is a fluorescent light; other objects I do well to put away and let them live on the important sidelines of my exsistence, rather than be destructive attractors like pizza.
On Good Friday, Christians learn of a scripture being fulfilled - the death of Jesus in a way fortold and predicted in detail. I sometimes wonder whether I have an ability of future prediction, or whether my skills of logic are just quite finely honed. Arrogant perhaps? But arrogance is really very rarely me these days. When I came home from playing the organ, I did several similar things. Two of them were identical except in one respect, and I predicted the result correctly both times. The actual details are irrelavent.
A tide change, Good Friday, wasps attracted to lights? Mad? Quite possibly. We are all attracted to things that are not good for us - whether a light, whether a pizza, or whether other abstract things; there is always something better, like a salad, that we don't notice, or just don't think. I'm not talking about 'living a little' and 'letting one's hair down'; those who know me know that the admonishment of vice, or something you enjoy is entirely alien to my being. Yes. It is the being, the soul, the care of self to which I refer.
It all started in about December 2005. I knew from the moment an abstract connection was made, that there would be a gradual decline that could all but destroy me. It nearly has once or twice, but I find myself in the situation at the moment of knowing that in the next short while, I will make a gesture of personal sacrifice - sacrificing some mind things I enjoy on my sidelines, that will combine to create a fluorescent light that could hurt me much. The past few months have been a time of resigning myself to it, and in fact I do believe actual synthesis of these organic, sideline elements has already occurred, and is currently my percieved 'dangerous synthesis' in deception already. The personal sacrifice I shall make will be to give the synthesis a 'justification in time' to exist. In doing so, I will give life to something amazing, as I have done before (but not to this level), by letting it take all my emotional energy. It will exist, and I will nod in surprise, and everything will be fine. It will take me a year to recover, potentially longer, but I shall fight because it will eventually enhance my life dramatically. I find it all exciting.
I worry sometimes about how easy I find it to predict these things - I do believe in synchronicity, and my two tests when I arrived home proved a fulfilment of this to my mind.
On the positive side, I'm sitting on my balcony watching squirrels jumping in the trees, wishing I was free like that too; perhaps I will be soon. I intend to sit here with another Gin, eat a pizza, listen to the birds singing, watch the sun go down, and go off to enjoy the last night of penitence before the kindling of the new fire, and the beginning of what promises to be quite an interesting but exciting space of time.
JL
Friday, March 09, 2007
Normal people.
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I wonder if this is what normal people do with their Friday evenings? Have I finally discovered what people do? That is, those people who have bank accounts and creative needs that are not reliant upon going to play the piano or organ.
Oddly enough, on the way to a rehearsal recently, I sat on the train watching people, as I often do. All different, yet all doing the same. All wanting to be home on a Friday evening. Some were chavvy; some were in a couple; some were gay; most were straight; some looked smelly; some looked ugly; some were totally beautiful; some had eyes that I wanted to collect and watch and look into in my own time; one man was ordering a chinese takeaway and wanted to be known as 'JP' because he had a 'difficult Finnish name'. All of them were mostly quiet. But the train was not quiet. Their thoughts were shooting and ricocheting around the carriage. I couldn't hear, but at the same time I could hear - it was claustrophobic. Isn't it wierd how much mental energy working in dissonance is almost louder than the noise of awful pubs.
I'm quiet glad of my friday evening. My flat is empty apart from me and my bottle of red wine, and my thoughts are not inhibited by noise of other mentality - I feel relaxed.
Perhaps I should have or share 'normal' friday evenings more often?
JL
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Wine wine-not...
I think my very first post was about being a wino who says 'why not'. In just over a week's time, Peter, James and I are going to have a reunion of our 'finishing finals' evening. In it's original form, it involved Margaux '94, fine cheese, and candles down by the river in Cambridge. We're just doing it now because we can't wait to do it again, and the 10 year anniversary is too far ahead. I'm just ordering the wine from The Wine Society. Alas Margaux from then is getting on for £100. Too much for a lowly music publisher. But there is a warming thought at ordering really good wine to drink with candles and cheese (and with excellent company); I think I shall go for a Pavillon Rouge (Margaux second growth).
Did anyone say that I could be an alcoholic?
Did anyone say that I could be an alcoholic?
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
So, what has Jon been doing
I have been too busy to think recently. There have been moments of sheer joy in my life, moments of high shock, moments of emotion I never want to feel again, moments of boredom, many moments of drunkeness, and moments that I will treasure for the rest of my life. I've even done some Kareoke.
This past three weeks or so has reminded me exactly how important to me my friends are, and how much I have capacity to love and be loved. It has also reminded me that life moves on, and that I am rapidly coming to a changepoint in my life. Over the next few months I predict that the swirling vortex of my mind will fix upon several next stages. The first I know about, and that is that I must have a holiday soon. A holiday somewhere relaxing and fun with someone(people) relaxing and fun. I still have 24 days to use up this year, and I hate not being able to spend those actually with people. The next will be career. The third will be accommodation. Maybe the fourth will be love? 2007 is a year in which I will sort many things, and open my life to the excitement and adventure of new things. Travel. I must travel.
So.. anyway..
This blog entry is purely to post some photos:
My silly sign gallery
Alex and Rich's wedding in Windermere
ENJOY!
JL
This past three weeks or so has reminded me exactly how important to me my friends are, and how much I have capacity to love and be loved. It has also reminded me that life moves on, and that I am rapidly coming to a changepoint in my life. Over the next few months I predict that the swirling vortex of my mind will fix upon several next stages. The first I know about, and that is that I must have a holiday soon. A holiday somewhere relaxing and fun with someone(people) relaxing and fun. I still have 24 days to use up this year, and I hate not being able to spend those actually with people. The next will be career. The third will be accommodation. Maybe the fourth will be love? 2007 is a year in which I will sort many things, and open my life to the excitement and adventure of new things. Travel. I must travel.
So.. anyway..
This blog entry is purely to post some photos:
My silly sign gallery
Alex and Rich's wedding in Windermere
ENJOY!
JL
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Reordering of life
O Word, worthy of the Most High,
our sole hope, eternal day of earth and the heavens,
we break the silence of the peaceful night.
Divine saviour, cast Thine eyes upon us!
Shed the light of Thy mighty grace upon us.
Let all Hell flee at the sound of Thy voice.
Dispel the slumber of a languishing soul
that leads it to the forgetting of Thy laws!
O Christ, be favorable unto this faithful people
now gathered to bless Thee.
Recieve these hymns it offers unto Thine immortal glory
and may it return fulfilled by Thy gifts.
our sole hope, eternal day of earth and the heavens,
we break the silence of the peaceful night.
Divine saviour, cast Thine eyes upon us!
Shed the light of Thy mighty grace upon us.
Let all Hell flee at the sound of Thy voice.
Dispel the slumber of a languishing soul
that leads it to the forgetting of Thy laws!
O Christ, be favorable unto this faithful people
now gathered to bless Thee.
Recieve these hymns it offers unto Thine immortal glory
and may it return fulfilled by Thy gifts.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
I've just returned from the Ash Wednesday service at my church. Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent - forty days and forty nights of wilderness. The Rector pointed out that whilst giving up certain pleasures in life for Lent was undoubtedly very good for you (and even more so if you give the money saved to charity), the inevitable goal of the period of self-awareness and thought is to become the person you want to be by the end of it.
I've found myself becoming rather obsessed with Jung's ideas on synchronicity recently, and have probably begun reading into life's coincidences just slightly too much. Today, however, I have had a curious mood swing to a sort of half-mood - a mood in half being - the remainder of one I thought I'd put to bed a long time ago. It is curious because on the day that, in the Christian calendar, self-awareness and meditation begin for 6 weeks, blasted apart has been the 'papered-over' inner workings of my emotions. Synchronicity it may be, but it has also made for a very organic day - possibly the most organic in a couple of months; everything has grown out of a disappointing realisation and mood swing early on.
I became very good a few years ago at pushing unwanted things in life around - hiding sadness with joy - being able to put problems into a corner using low brain resource until they sort themselves. The challenge to become 'what I want to be' in 6 weeks through a process of introspective collection is something I fathom almost impossible. I've learnt that to be my true self, I need to open up all the hidden problems, the hidden emotions, the hidden thought, and purge them by opening them at the people they are associated with. Occasionally I try to open thoughts, but I think there are only few people who can fully cope with me being honest - most people will just ignore the openess if I start trying to be honest - possibly because they have similarly moved things to the corner of their 'life playing board'.
So if I'm to be my true open, honest, and emotionally honest self, then I must expect to harm what makes up my life. So is my true self the person who I want to be at the end of Lent? Is there a difference?
Who knows? I think the concept of self-awareness is a good one - a time to consider what has been papered over and what could come blasting out at any given time. It is also a time to purge the issues and problems and emotions that have been soaked up like a sponge. Like a game of snap, by matching up the mental process of a problem thought through - the card of logic with the card of problem or emotion or feeling, Lent can be a cathartic time.
I'm looking forward to this time. It has started.
Time to sleep
JL
I've found myself becoming rather obsessed with Jung's ideas on synchronicity recently, and have probably begun reading into life's coincidences just slightly too much. Today, however, I have had a curious mood swing to a sort of half-mood - a mood in half being - the remainder of one I thought I'd put to bed a long time ago. It is curious because on the day that, in the Christian calendar, self-awareness and meditation begin for 6 weeks, blasted apart has been the 'papered-over' inner workings of my emotions. Synchronicity it may be, but it has also made for a very organic day - possibly the most organic in a couple of months; everything has grown out of a disappointing realisation and mood swing early on.
I became very good a few years ago at pushing unwanted things in life around - hiding sadness with joy - being able to put problems into a corner using low brain resource until they sort themselves. The challenge to become 'what I want to be' in 6 weeks through a process of introspective collection is something I fathom almost impossible. I've learnt that to be my true self, I need to open up all the hidden problems, the hidden emotions, the hidden thought, and purge them by opening them at the people they are associated with. Occasionally I try to open thoughts, but I think there are only few people who can fully cope with me being honest - most people will just ignore the openess if I start trying to be honest - possibly because they have similarly moved things to the corner of their 'life playing board'.
So if I'm to be my true open, honest, and emotionally honest self, then I must expect to harm what makes up my life. So is my true self the person who I want to be at the end of Lent? Is there a difference?
Who knows? I think the concept of self-awareness is a good one - a time to consider what has been papered over and what could come blasting out at any given time. It is also a time to purge the issues and problems and emotions that have been soaked up like a sponge. Like a game of snap, by matching up the mental process of a problem thought through - the card of logic with the card of problem or emotion or feeling, Lent can be a cathartic time.
I'm looking forward to this time. It has started.
Time to sleep
JL
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Beauty against work
The other day, I was in the Production Office talking to some producers, and the sun was setting... The London sun is the most beautiful sunset in this part of the world... the natural beauty of life is the most wonderful tonic to rubbish that happens at other times:
Super - [soo-per] - very good; first-rate; excellent
With words like 'super' and 'spendid' and 'excellent', one could easily catergorize me as a rural clergyman of a certain age. During my college days, it was never far away from my mind since my various friends would regularly plant the seed of Anglican priesthood in my brain. I remain, however, a normal lay-person (you have to be careful with hyphens there) (and I'm not normal, just in case you wondered), but I also happen to use words like 'super' and 'splendid' and 'excellent'.
Sitting here with a not totally unpleasant glass of Australian Shiraz-Merlot, refusing to lament the sorry lack of valentines cards and listening to Mahler 2, it occurred to me that the word 'super' is an empty promise.
Perhaps I should enlighten you. Today I went to a supermarket. A market that is super? An excellent market; a first-rate market; a very-good market? No. It was the most efficient waste of my time and most inefficient waste of space that I have ever seen. How could we have got supermarkets so wrong? A supermarket to me means the bullet train of markets, a high luxury, a place of ease and relaxation. It does not mean nipping in for a stir-fry and a bottle of wine (taking 4 minutes to find), and waiting 15 minutes IN THE BASKET QUEUE!!! What rubbish.
Were the intelligent people viewing a film of Michaelangelo's shopping habits the day someone said, 'I know, in this hi-tech age, supermarkets are still working well - we won't change a thing'. What other places with shelves do I know. How about the British Library? Oh yes... look at the British Library; sitting at my desk, I can search for what I want, add it to a list, go into the library and pick my pile up before going to work at the books. I know what is in each book I order - or roughly; if the book is no good, I won't order it again.
Why then can't supermarkets work on the same principle? Why can't Jon log onto Sainsbury's website search through the lists and go to pick them up later in the day. Why do we need to SEE what we are buying? Why do supermarkets have twice as many staff as they need (warehouse and shopfloor) ? Yes I know that I can have it delivered, but what is the point in missing out the most obvious stage in the process - going to pick up your order? You could even order on the tube on the way home and go to pick your order up. If food wasn't so ridiculously packaged, it may even be cheaper.
Oh I forget - supermarkets like us to buy what we don't need don't they??
RANT RANT RANT.
You may call me Anne Widdecombe - but only for a day.
Just remember next time you go into a supermarket, that there is nothing super about queueing up for 15 minutes to pay money. It is all the WRONG way around.
JL
Sitting here with a not totally unpleasant glass of Australian Shiraz-Merlot, refusing to lament the sorry lack of valentines cards and listening to Mahler 2, it occurred to me that the word 'super' is an empty promise.
Perhaps I should enlighten you. Today I went to a supermarket. A market that is super? An excellent market; a first-rate market; a very-good market? No. It was the most efficient waste of my time and most inefficient waste of space that I have ever seen. How could we have got supermarkets so wrong? A supermarket to me means the bullet train of markets, a high luxury, a place of ease and relaxation. It does not mean nipping in for a stir-fry and a bottle of wine (taking 4 minutes to find), and waiting 15 minutes IN THE BASKET QUEUE!!! What rubbish.
Were the intelligent people viewing a film of Michaelangelo's shopping habits the day someone said, 'I know, in this hi-tech age, supermarkets are still working well - we won't change a thing'. What other places with shelves do I know. How about the British Library? Oh yes... look at the British Library; sitting at my desk, I can search for what I want, add it to a list, go into the library and pick my pile up before going to work at the books. I know what is in each book I order - or roughly; if the book is no good, I won't order it again.
Why then can't supermarkets work on the same principle? Why can't Jon log onto Sainsbury's website search through the lists and go to pick them up later in the day. Why do we need to SEE what we are buying? Why do supermarkets have twice as many staff as they need (warehouse and shopfloor) ? Yes I know that I can have it delivered, but what is the point in missing out the most obvious stage in the process - going to pick up your order? You could even order on the tube on the way home and go to pick your order up. If food wasn't so ridiculously packaged, it may even be cheaper.
Oh I forget - supermarkets like us to buy what we don't need don't they??
RANT RANT RANT.
You may call me Anne Widdecombe - but only for a day.
Just remember next time you go into a supermarket, that there is nothing super about queueing up for 15 minutes to pay money. It is all the WRONG way around.
JL
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Mandate society II
I've been working all evening. Yup as in 9-5 job work. It is now midnight, and it is cold outside. I'm inside, on my second Gin and Tonic and listening to Brahms Intermezzi - all cozy, warming and emotional. I saw James on Sunday for dinner, and he reminded me that I have a blog, and should fill it in more often. I am doing his bidding.
Following on from my previous thoughts on a mandate society, I had more thoughts.
Humans are strange. Humans coupled with their 'beings' are even stranger. Give someone conciousness and the ability to think, and they become lazy and prefer to follow-on like the proverbial sheep. Humans wouldn't be humans without the need to learn from everyone else - life wouldn't work, let alone move the way it does. We do have extraordinary abilities to imitate and nest someone else's egg in the hope it hatches into our own canon of influence. Even the most seemingly 'individual' of us returns with mandate from others in this way. Yes I know - we wouldn't ever have a 'being' if we weren't able to learn from those we respect. But sometimes mandate to do something is accepted too much 'as the way it is'. This process is probably a majority sub-conscious - like lust - part concious, but the actual mechanics being totally sub-concious.
Isn't it wierd, however, that we are all afraid of giving mandate back. 'Rubbish', I hear you say. I think it's true: Jon here likes to play the organ or piano well for people in the hope it might influence them, and for them to respect me lots because of it - there is no fear there. But is that really me? Is that really what I could be showing people - allowing them to decipher? No it's not - it is simply my training in something beautiful that I'm sharing with others; true, my technical flaws and the idiosyncracies of my playing might be endearing, but the music is only seasoned with the inner soul that makes ME.
I wonder, whether our fear of revealing ourselves to others (and society expectation has no small part to play here), stunts the growth of society and is a flaw responsible for years of war and rubbish. By keeping our human soul, what we really think and feel, inside us like a locked diary, we harness our own personal development, we lacerate any attempts to be open, and we reduce the palette of subconcious mandate available to society and thus to ourselves in response. The wealth of experience people could take away from us currently ranks in the 'poor' catergory. Of course we can be worthy, and do good things, and that we must continue, but the actual effect of our true selves is negligible when it is hidden.
We fight the love of food because it will make us fat, we fight the want to love someone because it is not what we 'expect' in a partner, we fight the need to express real views in case there is something to be gained from agreeing with whoever we talk to, we set up rules for friendships that filter things into different boxes.... Do we as humans end up reacting against the very person we are and pretend to be the very person we're not - all because we have carried away too many false mandates - too many 'they've considered what they're doing so I shall do it too' mandates from others.
Does this make the whole of life false? Does it make friendships false and ultimately unsatisfying?
No. We can fight it, and the rare glimpses of reality and soul in others are recognised by us as a concious mandate. The glimpse of beauty and love in someone else is a things to behold, and my life is regularly richer because of it.
JL
Following on from my previous thoughts on a mandate society, I had more thoughts.
Humans are strange. Humans coupled with their 'beings' are even stranger. Give someone conciousness and the ability to think, and they become lazy and prefer to follow-on like the proverbial sheep. Humans wouldn't be humans without the need to learn from everyone else - life wouldn't work, let alone move the way it does. We do have extraordinary abilities to imitate and nest someone else's egg in the hope it hatches into our own canon of influence. Even the most seemingly 'individual' of us returns with mandate from others in this way. Yes I know - we wouldn't ever have a 'being' if we weren't able to learn from those we respect. But sometimes mandate to do something is accepted too much 'as the way it is'. This process is probably a majority sub-conscious - like lust - part concious, but the actual mechanics being totally sub-concious.
Isn't it wierd, however, that we are all afraid of giving mandate back. 'Rubbish', I hear you say. I think it's true: Jon here likes to play the organ or piano well for people in the hope it might influence them, and for them to respect me lots because of it - there is no fear there. But is that really me? Is that really what I could be showing people - allowing them to decipher? No it's not - it is simply my training in something beautiful that I'm sharing with others; true, my technical flaws and the idiosyncracies of my playing might be endearing, but the music is only seasoned with the inner soul that makes ME.
I wonder, whether our fear of revealing ourselves to others (and society expectation has no small part to play here), stunts the growth of society and is a flaw responsible for years of war and rubbish. By keeping our human soul, what we really think and feel, inside us like a locked diary, we harness our own personal development, we lacerate any attempts to be open, and we reduce the palette of subconcious mandate available to society and thus to ourselves in response. The wealth of experience people could take away from us currently ranks in the 'poor' catergory. Of course we can be worthy, and do good things, and that we must continue, but the actual effect of our true selves is negligible when it is hidden.
We fight the love of food because it will make us fat, we fight the want to love someone because it is not what we 'expect' in a partner, we fight the need to express real views in case there is something to be gained from agreeing with whoever we talk to, we set up rules for friendships that filter things into different boxes.... Do we as humans end up reacting against the very person we are and pretend to be the very person we're not - all because we have carried away too many false mandates - too many 'they've considered what they're doing so I shall do it too' mandates from others.
Does this make the whole of life false? Does it make friendships false and ultimately unsatisfying?
No. We can fight it, and the rare glimpses of reality and soul in others are recognised by us as a concious mandate. The glimpse of beauty and love in someone else is a things to behold, and my life is regularly richer because of it.
JL
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Friday, February 02, 2007
The Rel who came in from the warm.
Today Rel came home. Like football coming home, but with a much more refined tune - probably a cross between Miles Davis and Cesar Franck.
Photos here
Rel is home
JL
Photos here
Rel is home
JL
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Mandate to the masses
I started cycling to work again yesterday. Yes - get your laughs out of the way - a slightly post-Christmas-rounded musician wobbling on a bike heading for Fitzrovia. Ha ha! It as taught me various things:
1. Taxis
I hate London taxis even more than I do as a pedestrian - not only do I know that they are expensive, speed up towards traffic lights, try to play skittles with unsuspecting walkway users, and pump pedestrians' lungs full of poisonous fumes, BUT they also persist in having a unique interpretation of the Highway Code that suggests cutting up cyclists and zooming past them with a centimetre gap. AND to the man (or woman) who invented their high acceleration (which sounds like a V1 rocket coming in to land), I would like to raise a punch.
2. Yummy Mummies
Yes the ladies who spend their days driving their 'Chelsea tractors' to the shops to bring in a harvest of rocket and balsamic vinegar for tea (along with the odd fur coat or two). Life owes these ladies everything. It particularly allows them to jump traffic lights, park on double yellows while they nip into Costa in West Hampstead for a little pick me up whilst they source their feta cheese (and forcing the poor cyclists out of the bus lane and into the main lanes where they meet more Y.Ms), and slow down whilst they phone their poodles to tell them to put on the kettle.
3. Mercedes Drivers
Yes. When I was young it was Volvo drivers. But then I did grow up in the rural countryside. In London, Mercedes drivers seem to have the right to sit in the Cycle Boxes and junctions. Well clearly, they have money so can do anything!
Yes. Rant rant rant! But it is not over yet. On the way home yesterday, I popped into Sainsbury's supermarket where I purchased some coffee beens and one or two bits of Italian food to cook for dinner. People are so rude in supermarkets. Firstly, the ladies (and I'm afraid it is always ladies in my experience) who walk through you pretending they haven't seen you, or who just expect you to stop and let them past; obviously I do - I'm a gentleman, but no doubt if the shoes were on the other foot, I'd be called all sorts of chauvinist-type names. Then there are the people who, when you are looking at a shelf, come and stand in front of you without even excusing themselves. RANT RANT RANT.
But yes, why am I ranting? It occured to me that these people fall into the flaw in society that we all fall into - in fact I've already fallen into it several times writing this. It is the 'mandate' philosophy of life.
I fall into the situation all the time; I subconciously think that if a friend does something, it is alright for me to do too even if afterwards it offends the way I wish to live my life. In other words I assume by example that I have been handed a mandate. Taxi drivers have their own Highway Code handed on by implied mandate to one another, Yummy Mummies buy rocket and park their cars anywhere because their mandate is passed on by other balsamic vinegar harvesters, and it is alright for me not to reply to e-mails that I know replies are expected from simply because other people do it to me. It is abhorrent that I do it; it is abhorrent when other people do it to me.
Amongst my New Year's resolutions you will find my desire to cycle more and shape up a bit, to drink less in order to preserve my income a bit (and thus write more blog entries), and to stop myself being led by other people - to ignore implied mandate - 'oh he/she does it so it is fine for me'.
Mandate to the masses. I'm off to drink some balsalmic vinegar.
JL
1. Taxis
I hate London taxis even more than I do as a pedestrian - not only do I know that they are expensive, speed up towards traffic lights, try to play skittles with unsuspecting walkway users, and pump pedestrians' lungs full of poisonous fumes, BUT they also persist in having a unique interpretation of the Highway Code that suggests cutting up cyclists and zooming past them with a centimetre gap. AND to the man (or woman) who invented their high acceleration (which sounds like a V1 rocket coming in to land), I would like to raise a punch.
2. Yummy Mummies
Yes the ladies who spend their days driving their 'Chelsea tractors' to the shops to bring in a harvest of rocket and balsamic vinegar for tea (along with the odd fur coat or two). Life owes these ladies everything. It particularly allows them to jump traffic lights, park on double yellows while they nip into Costa in West Hampstead for a little pick me up whilst they source their feta cheese (and forcing the poor cyclists out of the bus lane and into the main lanes where they meet more Y.Ms), and slow down whilst they phone their poodles to tell them to put on the kettle.
3. Mercedes Drivers
Yes. When I was young it was Volvo drivers. But then I did grow up in the rural countryside. In London, Mercedes drivers seem to have the right to sit in the Cycle Boxes and junctions. Well clearly, they have money so can do anything!
Yes. Rant rant rant! But it is not over yet. On the way home yesterday, I popped into Sainsbury's supermarket where I purchased some coffee beens and one or two bits of Italian food to cook for dinner. People are so rude in supermarkets. Firstly, the ladies (and I'm afraid it is always ladies in my experience) who walk through you pretending they haven't seen you, or who just expect you to stop and let them past; obviously I do - I'm a gentleman, but no doubt if the shoes were on the other foot, I'd be called all sorts of chauvinist-type names. Then there are the people who, when you are looking at a shelf, come and stand in front of you without even excusing themselves. RANT RANT RANT.
But yes, why am I ranting? It occured to me that these people fall into the flaw in society that we all fall into - in fact I've already fallen into it several times writing this. It is the 'mandate' philosophy of life.
I fall into the situation all the time; I subconciously think that if a friend does something, it is alright for me to do too even if afterwards it offends the way I wish to live my life. In other words I assume by example that I have been handed a mandate. Taxi drivers have their own Highway Code handed on by implied mandate to one another, Yummy Mummies buy rocket and park their cars anywhere because their mandate is passed on by other balsamic vinegar harvesters, and it is alright for me not to reply to e-mails that I know replies are expected from simply because other people do it to me. It is abhorrent that I do it; it is abhorrent when other people do it to me.
Amongst my New Year's resolutions you will find my desire to cycle more and shape up a bit, to drink less in order to preserve my income a bit (and thus write more blog entries), and to stop myself being led by other people - to ignore implied mandate - 'oh he/she does it so it is fine for me'.
Mandate to the masses. I'm off to drink some balsalmic vinegar.
JL
Monday, January 08, 2007
Long time no see?
Yes. I've had a month off writing on my blog. You may have noticed?
I've discovered that one of the problems about my life is that I do far too much; this busyness naturally affects all of my administration - and this includes my blog...
Apologies all!
Please find below a couple of photo albums of things I have been up to recently. Hopefully I will get to write something tomorrow!
New Year's Eve
Work Party
JL
I've discovered that one of the problems about my life is that I do far too much; this busyness naturally affects all of my administration - and this includes my blog...
Apologies all!
Please find below a couple of photo albums of things I have been up to recently. Hopefully I will get to write something tomorrow!
New Year's Eve
Work Party
JL
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