I mostly write. Read at your leisure but remember that my posts are usually produced half-asleep and if you confront me for anything that came from me I will be surprisingly fierce and unforeseeably collected. Although I hope we will agree and you will have a good time.
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Latest Posts by bernatk - Page 5
Sweeney Todd: The Importance of Morals and the Wrongfulness of Socialism
Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd (2007) has been famous for its explicitly violent themes, which are doubtlessly quite spectacular and shocking. The basic story seems like a tragic journey of vengeance and death but, as a matter of fact, it isn't a more dramatic Count of Monte Cristo, but it's a unique and interesting piece of art of a different nature.
In the beginning of the story Benjamin Barker a.k.a. Sweeney Todd (Johnny Depp) returns to London, from where he has been banished for crimes he did not commit and the corrupt judge, namely Turpin (Alan Rickman), who caused all of his troubles, abused his wife - who took arsenic to escape her pain - and became the tutor of Sweeney's daughter, Johanna (Jane Wisener). Sweeney seeks vengeance, pairs up with Mrs Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter), a widow, together they kill and bake scores of people, finally murdering the judge. In the closing sequence though it turns out, that Sweeney has killed his wife, along with the so many strangers, out of mistake, so he kills Mrs Lovett but he dies, too, because a young boy, Toby (Ed Sanders), who's very fond of the widow, kills him, as vengeance, also.
There are better plot summaries, I know, but I couldn't leave it out, in case someone isn't yet introduced to the movie.
Sweeney's conduct is a classic vendetta, which he plans to materialize by any means necessary. His self-assigned quest is something, that is hard to categorize as immoral. Well, yes, it's wrong to kill a man and it is far, far more wrong to kill a great number of men, yet we can't disregard the information about Turpin's terrible acts. We can say, that we probably wouldn't kill like Sweeney did but it's still hard to say, that his actions are wrongful, since he has the best imaginable motivation. In summary, what he intends to bring down on Turpin and London is understandable and, no matter how much we argue, just.
As the story goes on we get to see a little more of Turpin, who is represented as a heartless, sick person, to say the least. He is seemingly worthy of his overhanging punishment and he just keeps giving us reasons to hate him, and the banner of righteousness to Sweeney.
While Sweeney's struggling to get a chance to finish his vendetta, he kills many people, whom are baked by Mrs Lovett. This is an extremely provocative notion. As Sweeney is placed on a - disturbing and arguable - moral high ground, there is a seeming moral justification of his killing spree. The purpose this monstrosity serves is nothing else, than - apart from mere practice - cleansing the society of the bourgeois--we'll return to this.
In the end, however, everything takes a chaotic turn and what has seemed to be logical and moral - though disturbing and hard to agree with - loses its core element: the purity of its motivation. Has it not been for Sweeney's blindness he could've returned to his wife and with probably a lot of difficulties he could've redeemed himself from whatever he's been accused with. He could've got back his only child, as well. Sweeney realizes all this and kills Mrs Lovett, who has had key importance in his destruction, but it brings him nothing, apart from a very sudden and ironic death. The reason why it is hard to argue Sweeney's right to murder all those people is, that he seems to have a natural right to balance out his loss. This is what disappears in the finale: he must face the fact, that he isn't omniscient, he's not above nature but inside. All of his killings, his vendetta, basically everything turns out to be unjustified and immoral, and this is what our instincts have been telling us all along the movie. This story tells, how no man can rise above the rest of humanity or any given society, and how important it is to always stride on the path of morality, otherwise we'll run into great catastrophes, which are all self-inflicted. Lovett's bakery is a quite unmistakable and disgusting representation of socialism. Although in our society it's not a question whether socialism is right or wrong, this story, for some reason, still asks it but also gives a fast and clear answer: this mechanism of destruction was the one, which led to the demise of the one, whom Sweeney held the dearest.
In my personal opinion Sweeney Todd's tragic tale encourages us to watch the future with infinite hope instead of bitterness, no matter how terrible the past is.
My girlfriend and I visited a castle last weekend. It was smaller than the ones people usually visit, though I dare say it was much more picturesque, than any one I have ever seen.
My girlfriend is a very inspirational person and I'm glad she convinced me to go. I like castles and nice buildings just fine but an unusually busy period of summer was just over, so I felt overall tired-- almost too tired to go.
After exploring every empty hall, every majestic architectural feat, we headed home. I was happy to be able to rest and also to have visited this castle. The whole thing was good as it was.
Later (now), sitting at home, this trip began to hold importance, other than being a fantastic vacation. As it is said above, I've been very active recently. I was so active, in fact, that I've begun to believe, that it is all right to stop for a little while. Well, OK, periods of relaxation are inevitable, that's true. What I realized, though, is, that even in times of rest and peace, I can't stop completely. We aren't cars, which you turn off, when you arrive at home and turn on the next morning, when you want to go to work. Our breathing doesn't stop, our hearts don't stop beating. Even when the world is quiet, we need to stay in motion, or else, much like our organs, we will be difficult to reactivate. Life can be grand but only if we live it.
The best thing :)
Wish I had what I needed To be on my own ‘Cause I feel so defeated And I’m feeling alone And it all seems so helpless And I have no plans I’m a plane in the sunset With no where to land
And all I see It could never make me happy And all my sandcastles Spend their time collapsing
Let me know that you hear me Let me know your touch Let me know that you love me Let that be enough
It’s my birthday tomorrow No one here could know I was born this Thursday Twenty-two years ago And I feel stuck watching history repeating Yeah, who am I? Just a kid who knows he’s needy.
Let me know that you hear me Let me know your touch Let me know that you love me Let that be enough
Let me know that you hear me Let me know your touch Let me know that you love me Let that be enough
Extreme close-ups of human eyes by Suren Manvelyan
wow, my tumblr turned 1 today! it's been a very beautiful and often uneventful year. despite all the controversies, i've closed a great year. thanks to the anonymous readers, the random likers, and most of all, my dearest 13 followers :) it's been superb.
Writer's note
It's been a long day. I've been called in to 2 job interviews, for which I'm happy beyond words but, other than that, oh boy, have I had a swell time?
I'll begin with something that's very close to me: literary work. Ever since I learnt how to write I've had a grand vision of my future. It's been my dream to be a great writer and I've always lived in this illusion that I'm good at it. But today I was rejected by a medium-sized company. No, not my professional application-- I wanted to be a volunteer. It's a quarterly magazine. So they said that they had my test writings checked by professionals and they found them inadequate in regards of grammar and authenticity.
The other thing is, well, literature, too. Remember when I said I've had this dream to be a great writer? Yeah, it pretty much fills every second minute of my waking hours. So here's the other story: Yesterday I recieved an answer to a query I sent to a seemingly fitting agent. She wrote that she feels honored (of course), that I contacted her, however, my work is not really for her. She (of course) encouraged me to keep on trying because she did not reject my book because of its general lack of genuineness but because of her own lack of enthusiasm about it. Yeah, it sucks. I know what you're thinking: Well what does one (1) agent matter anyway? Keep on trying, she said that too. So yes. Thank you. I've been trying. I've been trying for over a year with a total absence of fruition in any respect. I've re-written and polished my work but what does it matter now?
I've never said I'm a writer. Never to anyone. I've always believed humility is crucial and so I've never mentioned myself as a writer or artist. I didn't keep my writing a secret but I sure as rain was modest about it. Still, what I feel right now is this: I'm a complete wreck as a writer. Yeah, I'm a wreck that's for granted but why do I think I'm a writer. I never said I was and I've been constantly forcing myself not to consider myself as that. But in despair and disappointment my thoughts betray me. I'm just a sore loser and a presumptuous fool.
I'm not going to apologize for all the dismal things I've written because they aren't dismal. They're meant to teach you something. Well, who am I trying to lie to? They're meant to teach me something. Something I know and yet pretend to never have heard of. In all honesty I have a lot to learn and I've got to let go of big-faced concepts about myself. I'll be small. I'll remain small and I'll accept being that. I'm too young to be big and it takes some time to get rid of one's youth.
Lost Slayer by ~slyvanie
If you want something you've got to stand up for it and ask it, otherwise no matter what a decent person you are, you'll never get it.
“The Fault in our Death Stars”
So I had this idea ages ago, but I never really got started on it. Earlier this month, I finally did and it turned out great! :D So I’m saving this graphic for May 4th, but now I find out #thefaultinourdeathstars is already a thing?!?
Oh well. I guess there’s little point in keeping it from you, then…
Anyway, I was on a roll, so this also happened:
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. . . . And then one fine morning— So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
Scott F. Fitzgerald
My girlfriend has a peculiar memory when it comes to dreams. Everyday she just tells them in great detail. I think they are as real experiences to her as real events. Well I'm not that kind of person, to say the least, and I'm getting worse at it day by day.
But before we start, I must say, that it isn't a depression-note kind of thing.
Today I woke up, tired, tense and puzzled but there was absolutely no way for me to figure out what I saw in my dreams. The first thing that came to me was this thought: Oh gosh, it could've marked my day, it's good that I don't remember a bit of it. Strangely, though, it did mark my day. It had affected me as if I was just living it all day through.
I think this little thing about me helps us understand: understand me and understand ourselves. We are a new breed, one that has facebook, smart phones and incredible knowledge about the universe. But there's one thing we don't have: an identity. We just start out with a feeling that we cannot understand, nor describe but it's still there, defining our choices. We've successfully peeled back the layers of superstition and natural norms, thus we've enabled ourselves to create a world that reflects our dreams and desires without safe-guards. Unfortunately we've been so efficient in destroying the chains that held our kind back, that we've undone ourselves.
Is the status quo really so profoundly bad? No, absolutely not. But it's still true that we've depleted ourselves, we've negated the essence which made us us. We've forgotten dreams, yet, they are the only things that have effect on us. Who are we? And who am I? No ones. Our struggle to show our worth has concluded in a very thorough worthlessness in our nature.
However, there's still hope. There still is a beacon of light, a guarantee for us, that our breed can become something. We've just got to remember our long-forgotten dream-selves and that's what we have to fight for in order to break the line of facelessness. It's going to be a war. And we've the chance to become the heroes. Let us delay no more, let's beat on, let's alter our courses and find ourselves in the light of purity and beauty.
We've all heard the voices, which are wildly against adaptations and reboots but why can't we just appreciate cinema and enjoy it? And yes, it's often rubbish...
Ceaselessly changing
When are we ready, grown-up, clever or wise? Is there a certain phase, defined by scholars of past ages?
Human societies are all about metamorphosis: we always want to transfigure into something we think is sublime. And we very often succeed in our efforts, however, this just opens our eyes to see how vast the unknown is. I don't mean it scientifically; it's meant to be understood in the most artsy way you can imagine, I'm not going to be pretentious though, I'm just in the mood.
The past three or four months have really brought a wave of revelations and I caught a glimpse of the magnitude of the lack of knowledge about grand things I have. I'm well-aware this is terribly confusing but it's difficult for me to put my feelings into words, still, I'm compelled to give it my best shot.
Returning to my greatly eventful time, I must admit it was not at all eventful. All it was is just a period of trying my wings, seeing if I can fly. But I can't, there's just no way I could challenge the gravity and all laws of physics. I mean this, again, in a metaphorical way.
I've read books that showed me a new side of literature, I've seen movies that changed my thinking about film-making, I've had conversations that introduced me to a more humane side that people tend to conceal and I've revisited my early infatuations and through all of these things I've come to realise a great thing. I'm much less like me and much more like you -- like the entirety of us, humans. Through these things I began to understand myself more and more, to appreciate the world and each person around me.
This is an eternally complex and beautiful world. We have so little time to explore it and yet, we can always return to anything and enjoy it as if it was the first time of trying it out. We're so very close to death. But it's okay. I don't mind it because I believe that I will have emptied what fate has in store for me till my last day on Earth and what else could I wish above that? Another life? No, I'll pass. But I'll gladly go to Heaven :)
I'm in love again. In love with the Spring, the Day, Learning, Words and Actions, Traveling and You. I hope you're reading this because I'm madly in love with you Baby :)
Freedom
There are timeless books. Like Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment. It's not an easy read - it takes one some time to digest it. There are parts where you have to sleep before you'd continue. Sometimes it's inevitable to have some time to really understand a chain of thoughts.
Among many fantastic ideas and images, there's one thing I was really interested in while reading the book. Freedom. The freedom of will. Throughout the novel it seems, as if there's no choice, he has to do this or he has to say that. But it really isn't true. Raskolnikov always had the chance to stop, to change. I must admit I was profoundly worried as the unread part of the book kept thinning and yet, all the events, conversations and meditations seemed to disprove my belief.
It was until the last scene of Porfiry. He demanded the truth to be seen. He offered a choice, one that's always been present, even before the murder in the beginning of the book, and it was no else than holding on to foolish philosophies or letting go and free-falling into the frightening depths of salvation.
The whole story is an interesting idea. One does not have to commit such an obvious and terrible crime in order to be lost. Because freedom, like Raskolnikov's freedom, is basically just the freedom that a binary choice offers. It's a generally known fact that the world isn't black and white, so how could matters be so easy, as to say they're just the intersection of two ways. But they are. The quintessential of choices is just this question: salvation -- or this?
The 'this' of life is something we all know. It's all of our ideas, our self-made plans, which will be ridiculed sooner than we'd think. We have a grand plan individually designed for each and every one of us. Just as Raskolnikov always had the greatest thing in reach, we, too, have it right there. The most fantastic treasure of our lives, or the possibility of receiving it, is right around us. It's already delivered, we're just too eternally busy with our own thoughts that we began to believe, that we're not free to go for it. We began to believe there are things we have to do in order to-- But it's really just letting go of control and trying to fit into the Heavenly plan. It's always accessible, we're not required to be anywhere or anyone to be given it.
About the French languange
I started learning French two weeks ago, just as a hobby. I've always thought it's a wonderful language and whenever I heard someone say basically anything in French, my heart melted a little bit out of awe. Despite my former respect towards the language, it's never been a part of my endless list of interests. Until now!
Though I'm a mere beginner, a punk amateur, I feel I've found something of utter brilliance. As words form sentences and as a tiny bit of poetry slowly implants itself into the uninhabited plains of my mind, I'm loving it more and more. Though I've sampled several languages in my short life and have attained acceptable skills regarding one or two, nothing compares to French.
I find it inexpressible what a joy it is to be able to say 'You're perfect' in French and make it truly mean what it's intended to; or to be able to listen to this ethereal melody and have something of it understood. It's like falling in love. It's like discovering a very old book, which surpasses your taste in contemporary literature or basically just anything you've ever read in your whole life.
I'm so glad I started this. And it makes me enthusiastic of many other things. The beginning of something wondrous, like this, is always a perfect reminder of the fact, that there are infinite options, infinite chances in life. And the majority of them is better than I could ever dream. I realised, that there's just so much to do. Tomorrow, when I wake up, I'll know I have amazing and beautiful things to do, besides life's endlessly grave side. I invite you to start learning a language you've always wanted to, or to finally get to read (COMPLETELY) War and Peace, or just simply to begin a journey of any kind, which will make you more as a person and as a part of the ever-expanding interconnection of us: the people. Our days can get boring and miserable every now and then, but it's never, NEVER, unchangeable.
Zelda and F Scott Fitzgerald
[X]
How to get lost... in life
Though I'm relatively young, I've begun to feel, that I've missed or failed chances, which cannot be recovered. I've been inadequately attempting to perfect and sell my book, to be discovered as a genius at basically any field. I've been chasing my impossible and utterly ridiculous dreams. In my pursue of a great life, I've lost sight of what originally motivated me. And I haven't only failed at completing certain goals, I've given in to family expectations, "sane" voices from all around me and to my unadmitted fear of living. There's a part of me, which, along with many of my past chances, cannot be recovered. Well not by me at least... The current state of my life is not even remotely related to my former anticipation. I used to believe, that amazing turns in life are ahead. And yes, I'm still young... But I've just wasted so much: time, resources, connections and most of all spirit.
What do I do now? I still haven't lost hope and in all probability I never will. Still, I don't have the slightest idea of how to act. The ground beneath my feet has shrinked to absolute nil. I can see clearly, how my further actions and plans can never lead to fruition. However, as I've said, I'm bound to hope, I still believe, that life can take an unexpected and rather fortunate turn and this endlessly rushing train will take me to a destination, that overtakes all that my limited mind can dream of now.
I have faith, that my fate is not in my hands. It would be inexpressably tormenting to have no hope for anything beyond my own power. I am grateful that I can dwell in the house of God forever.
I feel that it's like in some books, where the characters have little to no word in shaping their destinies. Well of course, I firmly believe, that my actions and thoughts matter enermously, more than I realise but, in this short post, my only concern was resolving my present predicament.
How to pretend
Pretend you're into certain things and that you're expressly good at them. Display great fondness and commitment. When questioned about it, convince everyone, that you love those certain things because they are truly the greatest of all. Go on figurative and/or literary crusades. Organise everything in your life, so it would be interconnected with tose things. Have hobbies, studies, jobs, that relate to them. Have everybody decieved: trick the world, your co-workers, your best friend, your family, EVERYBODY, including yourself. And at the end of the day, when you have to face those certain things, you'll fail. Because you can't actually do anything that you said you could.
Modern day thinking requires us to rapidly make decisions, even the ones that will determine main matters in our lives. It is not hard to be drifted away to some unknown directions, that look tempting but in fact are alien to us. I believed, that I'd be a great engineer and could set up a huge company, that'll be providing me with a grand fortune but things don't work like this. Not all of us will find what we're looking for in popular careers or good-sounding ideologies.
What I have found though, is that prayer is a highly underrated element of happiness. Wherever I might go, it can always take me home from there. Always. So just be strong enough to kneel down and bring yourself before the Father. :)
How to stay friends
Befriend with the humorous guy in your class when you're 13. Let this friendship be loose and neglect each other. Then, when you hit the age of 14 or 15, start making inside jokes, watch movies together. When the others think you're weirdos, start dreaming big, believe, that the two of you can achieve antyhing. Then you'll be ridiculed by the people surrounding you, but you won't mind because they all seem to be irrelevant a-holes, since you two really WILL do something big. Someday... Then have a girlfriend, the normal teenage-love, which is idiotic and harmful in more than several ways. When your friend is against it, don't rely on his advice and make a fool of yourself. When it ends, just admit you were wrong and return to being friends. Graduate from school, go to uni. Grow up, start searching for jobs. Get acquinted with new people, who are fresh and exciting to you. Start feeling odd, then normal, then odd again and finally realise you're just a person, ergo completely like all other humans. And at the end of the day, when one dream collapses after the other and you're, again, running after your dreams from years ago, you know who's the one to call to help you out in writing a damn query letter for the thousandth time. Yes, it's them, the good old friends. They laugh at you and they always say you're just the same and repeat their old phrases over and over again but it doesn't bother you. Because they're your friends.
We all are lucky to have these people. Friendships might not be the brightly blazing fires of life but they will certainly be the most important relationships of it. Because someday you may find the girl, who used to be your closest friend, standing in front of you, lowly whispering 'I do' in a wedding dress, while your old friend keeps mouthing a joke about your favourite movie in the background...