Language and Violence : A very unoriginal rant

Language : Poetic and not, artistic and not,  and definitely, Yours and mine, was massacred and then barbecued, and is currently masticating in the open traps of hedgehogs/warthogs masquerading as writers, linguists, Playwrights Absurd Inc and others So-n-So (the presumptuous Intelligentsia festooning the uninspired Scene if indeed there is a “Scene”). Why are we so incompetent with producing fiction? The suggestive has been replaced by the obvious and commonplace and I am ready to take a cantatrice for a sex slave. I want something extraordinarily Peakish or Bradbury-eque or even Pratchettean coming out of this country. Weren’t we the kings(queens) of fantastic fiction. Circa, Valmiki. It doesn’t hurt to write from imagination than from experience, especially if you don’t have much of the latter, as most good authors did a while ago. And then, the sudden influx of 20 -something -coming-of-age-or-alternatively-an-Oakwood closet. Neither required nor appreciated. I ‘d rather indulge in a little freakish S-n-M and test the tensile strength of my own physical extremities (ouch), hitherto unnoticed, than read You. Don’t subject me to more anymore of Your verbal melee for fuck’s sake. Learn to digress effectively before you begin venting spleen for public delight (I am sort of delighted by the fact that I can manage to spam myself with these rants without disturbing my Writer’s Karma elsewhere).
I attended a book baptisma yesterday and I thoroughly despise the head bobbling aspect of a literary get-together, its symbolic of I-know-crap-and-so-do-you-but-together-we-might-try-and-act-like-Huxley’s progeny.
I am not that cerebral and I swapped lit for economics and mass communication in grad and damn it I am glad to have done that coz most of those who I read with were blithering idiots. Now they are blithering and significant idiots, who have books deals with plush publishing houses and essentially spend most of their time describing Neolithic art and its affect on modern Indian prose to unsuspecting strangers. I didn’t have the intellect or perhaps the guile required to do that and hence, Mz Dias, I chose to bury myself in mile thick books bout oligopoly than critique Pericles in my own dysfunctional way.
I am more than “slightly” upset about the fact that those nitwits now are leading the Young Indian Literary revolution. Youth is such an engineered phase now.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the Blog seems to have emerged as a the last surviving and blazing (yes, its my single most preferred term) bastion of and for Independent Thought (those circumnavigating gawker and instapundit will know though I hope you don’t manage to trace me), I will desist from a political rant, primarily because that’s meant for some other place on some other day.
How bout the actual and inherent rebellion?
The -isms are perpetuating and so is the -Ist faction, especially in novel-ing, more so in contemporary literature but its not dissent-colored (unlike its predecessors), its merely a hi-octave whine session on cheap paper(shut up about Dolores Claiborne reference). Instead of iconoclasts you are left stranded with a few deluded whippersnappers. Why? Because it’s too churlish and not half as coherent and not thoroughly internalized. They churn garbage by heaps, typing first and thinking later.
Find a cause, develop an idea, speak about it, defend it when essential, and advocate it to others. This I learnt or was forced to learn all my life. Now I kind of believe in it. I wish the pro-body-odor and neo-structured-chaos ilk of today would reconsider this in it’s own individual light.
Extensive dialogues between Gamine Valkryie (Crippled Critics Inc) and me about current phonetic disorientation has yielded two concise points:

1) Most of the noveau clique (artists, writers etc) is more precocious than protean, sample the new artfight/catfight between one pesky kid and a few definitely debatable “maestros” in yesterday’s Bombay times*.

2) They assume the two aforementioned qualities are identical and they must conceive and nurture their own standard bastardizations of the two-as-one idea.

Argh.

“Writers are somewhere below clowns and somewhere above trained seals”- Steinbeck

Most writers, right now, are Cold Gravy for the Gaunt Soul. I would have tried and laughed, if it wasn’t so pathetic a thought!
Don’t subscribe to my viewpoint? Well. Kindly Go Fuck yourself.

Violence: The second feel-sore. Picking up from where we left off. Now that I have querulously declared (I have never been entirely benign, I truly haven’t) that Language is in its R. I.P stage, let me enliven the atmosphere by stating that Violence is alive and breathing, healthier and sunnier than before (aren’t you glad you came to the party?). Just the thing to make the wholefucking country and us feel like a giant fluffed pillow placed carefully on a recliner. A colossal mistake.

Points in case-
1) Find and demolish an illegal alien- just when you thought that the whack jobs couldn’t get any Redder than they already are, guess what, they managed to outdo their own asinine existence. “Human Traffic”. Read it, it may change You.

2) What do you do after that?? Lynching is in for 2005, Be with the trend. Why? (Don’t ask dense questions). China, Burma, Zimbabwe.

3) George of the Free World Jungle is still bamboozled by the concept of meta-cognition He subsists on a diet of Rice and sushi these days we hear and also seriously wonders why he hasn’t received a single billet-doux from Iraq (while my email server faces serious adjustment issues), after all if exacerbating a country, de rigueur, doesn’t get their vote of confidence then they are up for damnation. It oughtta have convinced them by now that having Dubs around is far better than Saddam. But then again, Iraqis aren’t a very perceptive bunch, are they?
So, that’s it for now.

The rant is over, go back to porn, auto-eroticism and/or coffee in whichever order.

*Do not even mention my penchant for reading the urban rag, now or ever. It’s a capital offence to question such disputable but required taste for undiluted gossip.

** I wrote this while at  a presentation meeting, spelling and grammatical mistakes are recurrent and necessary. My bread doesn’t agree with your requirement of an aesthete.

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~ by iconoplastic on October 7, 2006.

3 Responses to “Language and Violence : A very unoriginal rant”

  1. It’s not unoriginal. We need more of this stuff.
    You should consider writing on a serious basis.
    Good work, Maria.
    🙂

  2. hello
    wherefore art thou?

  3. I second that, not unoriginal at all. Coincidentally, my last blogpost was Peake related.

    You rant a hell of a lot more coherently than I do.

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