May 10, 2008 – 4:12 pm
Best in large. Also available in gross out colour here.
Alternatively: There will be blood? A light injection or an injection of light? Out of darkness comes light.
What does this picture have to do with the title. The answer to that is not a lot, practically nothing and that´s the point of this article. Though it will be a rather meandering ramble across a number of subjects, touching on obscure and inappropriate references to Sikhs in the media.
The last time I had a similar mini rant, was on the subject of confusing a Sikh man with a Turk, in an episode of Scrubs. This time I shall be picking on Lionel Shriver of We Need to Talk About Kevin fame.
Back in Feb 2008, in an article titled Bloody Awful in the Guardian, Lionel Shriver was describing how movies once considered too violent or sadistic for general release (aka video nasties) were now being made more widely available, because, accordingly to the BBFC (British Board of Film Classification)
…Times shift, attitudes change, and what was then problematic is not problematic now. In today’s current climate we do not consider these films to be a concern.”
Buried away in this article, a little one liner struck me bloodily right between the eyes, in a scene not too far removed from those depicted in said movies.
[Aside: I can not watch horror or gore movies, I find nothing of intrinsic value in them. They are often derivative and designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator - violence and gore. Suspense and storyline (bar some classic exceptions) are relegated in favour of body counts, pints of spilled blood, decapitations, ripped out entrails and worse. And apart from Shaun of the Dead I am unable to sit and watch them with my eyes open. Not too long ago I was ´forced´ to watch something called Saw IV in a cinema and I literally only saw 5 minutes in total of the whole movie. Having my companion describe the endless sadistic torturings on screen was even too much. In my world that movie has been renamed as Unsaw IV. Anyhow …what I did see was crap so by extension so must the whole movie have been! Thats the sort of extrapolation I use when it suits me.
I recently bought the same person a copy of The Book of the Dead: The Complete History of Zombie Cinema, and a quick flick through this was equally disturbing but in some ways strangely fascinating. The photography was especially appealing. Perhaps that was what it was. This is also a good a spot as any to reference the scene in Juno where Juno and would be adopter baby adopter and about to walk out on his wife, Mark, are discussing the goriest films ever made; cue film clips from The Wizard of Gore. Which seemed to back up my view that the only real reason that many of them are made is to try and outdo each other in the gore stakes.
Where was I, oh yeah back to track. So there in the middle of this article was a little one liner:
… Yet a handful of bureaucrats cannot possibly stand in for the multitudes, the 60 million people who span the gamut from Sikh grandmothers to hip media studies students who grew up playing Dark Messiah: Might and Magic on their computers.
And I couldn´t for the life of me work out why she had decided to pick on Sikh grandmothers. Ok, so she was trying to present a spectrum of people who could never be represented by the film censors. But it still struck me as a strange choice. Are Sikh grandmothers more likely to be sitting watching movies that are causing the BBFC hours of head scratching on how they should be classified or is it as I would conjecture (and any Sikh Grandmother who wants to prove me wrong please do so - just don´t make me watch a gore film with you is all I ask) that this is as about as far aware from their everyday watching material as it is possible to be.
Would it have been possible to just mention grandmothers in general? Was there a specific reason that I am unware of? Is there a secret army of Sikh bibian discussing the latest gore movie they have seen or want to see; over a cup of char? Was she being uber representative and PC and instead of bemoaning her I should be congratulating her on inclusiveness. I really don´t know. Either way it was curious and if I ever run into her at a book signing or casually wander past her (in my strange world of coincidences the possibilities of this are not as remote as you might imagine) I shall be sure to stop her and ask for clarification. And she can looked at me in a puzzled way - much the same way I looked when I read the article. We really need to talk about Lionel.
So, as if making a mountain out of that particular molehill wasn´t enough, I´m now going to go do a complete U-turn and moan (only mildly - I don´t really do full out ranting) about the converse scenario. A situation that was crying out to have Sikhs mentioned and was there a mention, of course not. That would have been too easy. And I wouldn´t be writing the rest of this.
To arrive at this particular destination involves a rather large detour so please bear with me. I love exploring both physically and metaphysically. Lunchtimes and spare moments are spent wandering (prefably with a camera to hand) around parks, roads, galleries, museums, book shops, film and music shops. Physical exploration in locating such places and metaphysical exploration as a consequence of where the physical exploration leads you. Often ending in yet more piles of books etc.
I can´t get enough of them. I don´t mean your average bland nondescript corporate identity behemoth but appealing little indie places, all bejou and compact; where I can get the sorts of films (international and independent) and music I like. Recently I have had a craving for films from the British Silent Cinema, which is undergoing something of a resurrgance of late, to the extent that there are now regular British Silent Cinema festivals. The most recent being in Nottingham in April under the title Rats, Ruffians and Radicals at the Broadway cinema. I happened to be there a few days before the festival and managed to collect a number of nice handouts and postcards of the event, but instead of watching a B&W csilent classic ended up watching No Country for Old Men (somewhat disappointing in my opinion, in the manner that these high profile movies tend to be. Also some plot devices that just did nothing for me. The last time I really enjoyed a big screen/big Hollywood epic was Crouching Tiger. Which truly was a masterpiece and deserved all the awards and back slapping it received.
Incidently the current (June 08) issue of Sight & Sound has an interesting write up on Rats, Ruffians and Radicals. Even more importantly it also has an interesting interview with one of my favourite directors, Werner Herzog.
As luck would have it found a couple of interesting movies at reasonable prices on my meanderings. And one of these days I will actually sit down and watch them.
Book shops, closely followed by shops selling movies are my favourites and if I can find a place that does both then its heaven. I actually know of one such place along Tottenham Court Road. You know the sort of place, books and DVDs piled high from floor to ceiling, real jewels buried away. You have to search for them but when you find them it´s a great feeling. The kind of thing that once you find it you wonder on your luck, want to keep it all to yourself as you have no desire to share it in case you don´t get it back. Things to treasure for ever, not to be discarded without a second glance. Never did you think you would find such an item. They took you long enough to find and brought great pleasure, they have to be worth hanging on to. A metaphor on life perhaps. Or is that mere pseudo scratching at the surface of the metaphysical itch?
On one of my recent jaunts, I came across a book which grabbed me instantly: Adam´s Navel by Michael Sims which was described as a natural and cultural history of the human body. How could that not be interesting. And on first glance it was and remained so.
Instead of adding this to the pile of books that need to be read I plowed straight into this one. The book is divided into a number of parts, which divides the body up into three main sections (top half, middle and bottom half). Each part has a number of chapters dedicated to particular aspects of that sections, for instance the navel makes its appearance in the middle section.
The first chapter on the top part is called The Not-Quite Naked Ape and is basically a history of hair down the ages. And makes for a wide ranging and interesting read, everything from Samson and Delilah to the Rastafarians. Sensible areas to cover and no complaint there. My problem is that there was no mention about Sikhs, not even a passing reference. Plenty of others get brief mentions, but not us. Now considering the importance of hair to Sikhs and how it readily identifies us I was disappointed to see no mention. All the same a fascinating book and I highly recommend it.
Now if only I could swap Lionel Shriver with Michael Adams … then again that would have meant I would not have had the opportunity for this little ramble and you could have saved some of your valuable time as well because after getting to the end of this … you´re bound to be thinking … is that it!
Afraid so. That´s life! Well most of the time. A series of mundane everyday events peppered with some not so mundane events.
And talking of life … if you can please do try and donate blood regularly. In the UK you can find out where via the National Blood Service website. And while you are there ask to opt into their bone marrow program.
NB: I took the above picture when I went to give blood and opt into the bone marrow program. The nurses were bemused but could see no harm in it - in fact they went out of their way and gave me my bag with my pint of blood in it to take shots of and of the tubes and my samples and generally were pretty decent and joined in on the humour and had a good laugh with me about it - wanting to see the shots ;p
Holding a pint of my own (B-) blood was an interesting experience 
It was a bit tough to take these shots as I had to use my right hand while leaning over and continuing to pump my left one to keep the blood flowing into the bag. I took my P&S A720 along (could never had done this with my DSLR).
I actually got shots from the point where the nurse inserted the needle into my arm to when she drew it out 10 mins later. Quite a fun afternoon. And those nurses were very cool.
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