tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67126922011-04-21T20:27:14.276-05:00evolving thought from a transplanted global nomadNick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.comBlogger541100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-32622485031283719282008-03-11T22:16:00.002-05:002008-03-11T23:04:26.215-05:00

Not red, blue or orange, but green. Green as in the philosophy exemplified by the recently coined movement bright green environmentalism. Green as in the subtle highlights of Chris Tindal's website/blog.Oh yeah - I'm voting Green in the upcoming federal by-elections next Monday. Tindal has my vote not only because I've come to realize how ridiculously obvious his platform makes sense, but

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-36352701875102154102008-01-27T15:10:00.000-05:002008-01-27T15:16:17.241-05:00

The following is a Herculean attempt to understand humanity as it stands, and to chart out a path to save it. Over time I will add and adapt this philosophy, and I invite you to comment and critique it.The Realist ManifestoA pragmatic approach to the worldMarvin Gaye had it right when he crooned three simple words, in response to the growing anxiety American society faced in the early 1970s. "

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-54435369326962392122008-01-08T22:29:00.000-05:002008-01-08T22:36:38.186-05:00

It seems somewhat appropriate that humankind's mortality and gluttony meet face to face in that last stronghold of brutality and barbarism in a civilized democracy – capital punishment. A final drag on a cigarette, as the shackled revolutionary defiantly stares down raised barrels, or the opportunity to etch one's place in the annals of history with a cutting barb à la Marx ("Go on, get out. Last

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-56049815151661195902008-01-03T22:58:00.000-05:002008-01-27T15:27:04.926-05:00

Holy crap, last post was in the summer... how time flies when you're not paying attention, whether having fun or bored out of your mind or playing the fool and acting the goat.Ziggy Stardust jammed it good, but alas I don't have my Weird and Gilly - I'm just a "writer" in my mind, burning holes to wile away time.But every so often, the urge comes along, and shocks my system. Political

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-19654812500317575422007-08-21T19:36:00.000-05:002008-01-27T15:29:21.366-05:00

On the surface, video game enthusiasts, Monday morning quarterbacks, pop philosophers and quantum physicists may not have anything in common. However, once you peel back the superficiality of each label, we reveal a characteristic that infects every human being: overactive imaginations.Consider Dr. Nick Bostrom's article “Are You Living In A Computer Simulation?” which examines the likelihood of

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-44363042230831114662007-08-04T16:10:00.000-05:002008-01-27T15:30:47.025-05:00

There is a part of my being that roots for him every night. With bated breath, I join the throngs, eager to witness history in the making. Like horny high school sweethearts, we wonder if tonight be the night. But with the storm clouds of allegations swirling around his stature, he stands at the brink of greatness and infamy. Still, it would be sweet poetic justice if he's forever stuck at 754.

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-71994277067912341012007-07-29T04:15:00.000-05:002008-01-27T15:31:52.336-05:00

It's summertime, and while the living is easy, restlessness hangs in the air. Its muggy tendrils slither down throats, gently suffocating our collective psyche. In the land of make believe, boulevards of broken dreams bring me to a scorched and barren wasteland. My imagination raped and brown bunnies mocking, I struggle to comprehend this Inland Empire. A clever stratagem, shock and awe: on the

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-56006136246544485612007-01-17T23:46:00.000-05:002008-01-27T15:35:03.065-05:00

That groan you just heard? Technologistas across the globe just collectively orgasmed. First the iPod, now the iPhone – Apple is proving once again that style and substance can go hand in hand like childhood sweethearts. Is it a phone, an MP3 player, a mobile office? Does it even matter? The thing looks fucking cool...Welcome to the realm of the image: a land where the visual reigns supreme,

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-2807603020771476982007-01-08T00:51:00.000-05:002008-01-27T15:36:05.379-05:00

Thirty-three million people roared in unison as the country's collective heads swell with pride and hearts sent aflutter. Three straight gold medals at the World Junior Hockey Championships and once again Canadian wombs continue to assure our dominance at this elegant sport.“Elegant?” one might ask. Consider the goalie's pinpoint hand-eye coordination needed to catch a puck hurtling at speeds of

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1165987804698508542006-12-13T00:21:00.000-05:002006-12-13T00:30:04.710-05:00

The police sedan blisters down the one way street, sirens piercing the once silent night, shattering an already fragile paradigm. This used to be a safe neighbourhood, she said, and now every night there's a domestic disturbance, a drug deal gone bad, a break-in in progress.T-Dot's practically balmy. Half-expecting Missouri-force snowstorms, he's greeted with relatively tropical weather, so much

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1163642462397033102006-11-15T20:19:00.000-05:002006-11-15T21:01:02.613-05:00

The latest Tool album is terrible. Actually, all Tool albums are terrible aside from the moments of 'how the hell did they get that sound??'. The fact is, Maynard is the real tool....Adam Jones needs to start a band with Billy Howerdel, get Melissa Auf Der Maur to play bass, have Liam Howlett do drum loops and get Femi Kuti doing voice-overs about demo-kraaaaayzee....So why am I losing it?

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1161751151519047792006-10-24T23:37:00.000-05:002006-10-24T23:39:11.536-05:00

Winter is fast approaching, and the most important piece of clothing isn't something you can find at your regular clothing store, but rather your local pub. Yes, its time to dust off those beer jackets...You remember the first time you felt invincible against the elements – alcohol does that to the human body. Your first martini never tasted sweeter, and you danced dangerously with your gag

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1160546779773606812006-10-11T01:02:00.000-05:002006-10-11T01:06:19.793-05:00

The haggard old bag lady wandered Toronto's streets at night, pausing briefly in front of the emergency entrance to a hospital. Perhaps provoked by some unseen dislike of health care, she launches into a commentary of her life, shouting out obscenities, professing her lack of control over her situation and cursing names that drift away in the wind.Where did she come from? Why is she homeless? Did

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1159715606682873232006-10-01T10:07:00.000-05:002006-10-01T10:15:20.403-05:00

The deep bass rumbles ominously, as light patterns oscillates above my head. The thick fog recalls film noir, as the train of people disappears ahead of me. California Dreaming...Someone stole a black pawn.It's a sorry state of affairs when a free, all-night contemporary art exhibition in this city is marred by petty theft. Although the perpetrator may have decided to showcase his own art of

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1128990642342048632005-10-10T19:27:00.000-05:002005-10-10T19:31:06.216-05:00

Perhaps it is pure folly to think otherwise, but its somewhat pathetic that mankind – with our ability to reach for the stars, chart the turbulent seas and imagine worlds unending – can be reduced to the basest form of being when encountering a network of free-standing waist-high structures connected by flimsy strips of cloth. Behold us, we who held our heads high, now shuffling like sheep to the

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1128542019984349692005-10-05T13:56:00.000-05:002005-10-05T14:53:40.006-05:00

"Sand will cover this place...Sand will cover you."- Paul Atreides from Frank Herbert's DuneSo I was a month into graduate school and already the above sentiment seemed to accurately describe the prevailing scenario. Apart from the academic obligations of trying to glean new ideas from the writings of dead economists, there has been a surfeit of logistical ennui to deal with. For one, it appears

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1128294249129196092005-10-02T18:02:00.000-05:002005-10-02T18:04:09.136-05:00

Prashant is right (words so infrequently used that my fingers struggle to finish the phrase) – Megadeth is nary a whisper in the wind – unless you count the idiotic legal duet Mustaine and Ellefson are performing – but as they say, any publicity is good publicity. Let loose the PR machine driven by buzz and watch it raze our senses silly. Incidentally, I stumbled upon the most curious of

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1127666263005678392005-09-25T11:36:00.000-05:002005-09-25T11:37:43.013-05:00

Three months is all it takes to throw the world upside down – what with natural disasters, economic turmoil, a ravaging war and a Dear Leader who continually loses and finds his marbles. A summer where our collective psyche pounded with newscast after newscast: London, Baghdad, Gaza, New Orleans. Three months where the hard questions of life were pondered: Jacko’s supposed innocence, holidaying

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1119285518839491712005-06-20T10:47:00.000-05:002005-06-20T11:38:38.873-05:00

A few months ago, while semi-drunkenly strolling through harvard square, Nick and I were confronted by some of the most curious grassroots activists. Toting a whiteboard with obscure geometry problems and delivering impromptu operatic performances, these were the followers of a nutbar by the name of Lyndon Larouche. At the time, we were fascinated. After probing them with the usual salvo of

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1117685244349531532005-06-01T23:02:00.000-05:002005-06-01T23:07:24.356-05:00

Not quite as biblical, but I think these past few days can aptly be called the Week of Revelations. American history buffs now have the answer to what might have been considered the greatest mystery in domestic politics: Who is Deep Throat? W. Mark Felt’s name can now be scratched into textbooks, while the levee breaks with the expected flood of Watergate books. Revelation #2, although not

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1117079732995228482005-05-25T22:49:00.000-05:002005-05-25T22:56:16.690-05:00

I watched it, pondered it, slept on it, and weighed the countless arguments for and against. And despite my love for epic stories, science fiction and elaborate action sequences, my only opinion of the latest (and hopefully last) instalment of the space opera that spawned hollywoodus blockbusteritis can be summed up in the three-letter word left imprinted on my brain: Meh. Star Wars:

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1116650287503154972005-05-20T23:35:00.000-05:002005-05-25T22:56:34.253-05:00

It’s often the most hideous, despicable and vomit-inspiring phrase that brings a smile to one’s face – automatic or not. I cannot even begin to describe the stares and guffaws that I get when wearing the *proud* slogan of my alma mater’s humour magazine: “Babies: Fun to Make, Fun To Eat” Ludicrous indeed, but outrageous statements and actions force the noggin to consider the

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1115693680356303412005-05-09T21:53:00.000-05:002005-05-25T22:56:52.283-05:00

Watching television a singular experience: whatever strands of meaning I extract from the boob tube, whatever arouses my intellect in that desert of the un-real, matters only to me. To defend one’s television habits would be to defend masturbation – only one person derives any pleasure from either activity. Only in the rarest of circumstances can that pleasure be shared between two, let

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1115179061220479772005-05-03T22:50:00.000-05:002005-05-03T22:57:41.246-05:00

Another town I’ve left behind, another drink completely blindAnother hotel I can’t find… While not necessarily breaking one of Professor Kohn’s cardinal rules about historical essays (Never start with a quote unless absolutely necessary), those lyrics, courtesy of Lemmy & Co., paint a perfect picture. A picture that immediately popped into my head when I read the results of an online youth

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1114491483742146582005-04-25T23:54:00.000-05:002005-05-25T22:58:19.793-05:00

What could be more perfect on a pleasant Monday evening in Toronto than listening to the noodlings of a masked, KFC bucket-wearing guitar virtuoso? While the sweet strains of Colma settle my eardrums, my thoughts focused on what was supposedly uttered by Maurice Ravel when asked what he was doing on a balcony: J’attends. Much like Vladimir and Estragon were hanging around for some

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1110494311520843832005-03-10T17:31:00.000-05:002005-03-10T17:38:31.526-05:00

Notwithstanding my erstwhile colleague’s noble attempt to generate debate, I feel that he is completely mistaken in his assessment. It seems that Prashant is trying to argue from a Baudrillardian point of view, that whatever that we have seen with regards to the Orange Revolution has been, in his words, “manufactured.” Jean Baudrillard proposed that the first Gulf War did not take place,

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1109916589216596052005-03-04T01:06:00.000-05:002005-03-04T01:11:49.636-05:00

While winter is making its final tour of the great white north, leaving me with salt-stained jeans and slush-soaked cuffs, the rest of the world witnessed a rash of resignations – from Togo (Faure Gnassingbe), to Hong Kong (Tung Chee Hwa), to Lebanon (Omar Karami). In fact, the global community has recently been riding the wave of political change and electoral success – Ukrainians and

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1109622164499019902005-02-28T15:20:00.000-05:002005-02-28T15:28:41.796-05:00

Myer, Grouch, astronotus ocellatus. A singing wiener, a distempered green muppet and a South American freshwater fish. While all three share the name of that naked statuette that will make the rounds tonight, I can only hope for their appearance onstage, perhaps to flip the bird at that golden mantelpiece decoration. I marvel at my ability to withstand years of oppression and abuse upon my

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1109203516058599842005-02-23T18:57:00.000-05:002005-02-23T19:05:16.063-05:00

Fear, Loathing and a Tangential Exploration of the UnknownI may be off-base here, but I would surmise that the members of my generation (the ubiquitous 18-24 sect) will remember the dearly demised doctor through one of two mediums – comic strips and film. Not being well versed in Doonesbury, I’ll instead touch upon what Robert Mitchum on Pitchfork wrote: “the cultural distortion of his

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1106940823824264472005-01-28T14:28:00.000-05:002005-01-28T14:33:43.823-05:00

Permit me, if you will, for the brief intrusion by the Boy Wonder of the original, campy Batman series: “Holy hutzpah, Batman!” (Genuinely uttered by Robin, if this website’s facts are in order). Today’s topic of incredulity is payola – not the mispronounced, yet delectable Spanish rice dish, but that egregious act of dropping dollar sign labelled sacks of cold, hard cash on the laps of

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1106115496790256622005-01-19T01:14:00.000-05:002005-01-19T01:18:16.790-05:00

You can never really appreciate the absurdity of the Bush administration. From a certain point of view, a cast of colourful characters and caricatures are running the hyperpower of the 21st century. To help develop that tableau, Salon.com has compiled a list of 34 scandals currently plaguing the White House. A good read, some pretty damning stuff, particularly the figures involved with

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1105301882901075382005-01-09T14:48:00.000-05:002005-01-09T15:18:02.900-05:00

While yaks, blogs and other such may be a tremendously engaging subject for some, they have failed to spark more than a fleeting interest on my part. This, to the extent, that I have generally found this medium a little tedious and more than a little unsatisfactory. Essentially, in the spectrum of modes that constitute self-expression, the blog is a curious halfway house. In most forms of mass

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1104804193908541412005-01-03T20:30:00.000-05:002005-01-03T21:03:13.906-05:00

Wow. That's the only word that comes to mind during my daily reflections (of which more will be posted online, I promise...) Simply put, I have never been as amazed at the world as I am these fresh few days of 2005. From the disaster in South & Southeast Asia (more on that later), to the idiocy that I witness everyday, I am continually stunned. But not completly speechless. If there's one thing

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1102045956480713762004-12-02T21:34:00.000-05:002004-12-02T22:52:36.480-05:00

So it has come to this: "They are lucky we allow them to exist on the same continent." "They" are Canadians (that's me!) and "we" are Americans. If you haven't heard by now, Ann Coulter (darling of the conservative section of the US) has blasted my country. The above comment was uttered on some Fox news show (for more details). By what right does one country "allow" another to exist? (Let

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1099246115368608122004-10-31T13:38:00.000-05:002004-10-31T13:08:35.370-05:00

We're in day 2 of "How long does it take for Prashant to notice that this blog has been reactived?" Of course, I will be lenient with him: my colleague is in the midst of preparation for the most important test of his life. No, nothing health related (me thinks he be too young for a prostate probe), I trust his body is performing at optimum levels. Rather, he is currently studying for the

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1099105526622032052004-10-29T21:44:00.000-05:002004-10-29T22:05:26.623-05:00

Wow. Look at that date... Saturday, August 21 2004. That's 69 days.... a lot can happen in that time. Unfortunately that's not what happened here, at least in my case. I'm just plain lazy. No way about it. However, even I'm disgusted at the lack of literary output being ascribed on this here blog. It is a shame in particular, since I write everyday in my professional life. I work in words,

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1093133164509448202004-08-21T17:49:00.000-05:002004-08-29T18:18:35.066-05:00

While on the topic of language, as recently brought up by Nick, I have spent some time reflecting on how it shapes our perception of the very concepts it attempts to describe. For one, consider the title of this blog. While we claim to be advocating evolved thought, are we really making any headway in doing so? Or, as the skeptics would likely prefer, are we just cloaking our feeble attempts with

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1092881463793443002004-08-18T20:49:00.000-05:002004-08-20T08:53:31.403-05:00

This latest missive from me comes shortly after my successful romp through history, modernity and chaos. Or: just a pretentious way of saying I recently took a trip to the US. Though I spent but just over a week south of the 49th, mine eyes were indeed opened. Opened to the preponderance of language that permeates in Boston and New York. Mine ears were opened to the idioms and dialects of "

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1089251063244194872004-07-07T19:18:00.000-05:002004-07-07T20:44:23.243-05:00

By the exponential decline in comments from our readers of late, I can infer one of two things. Either the content of our posts is breaking new ground in the area of soporific writing, or as Nick has suggested, you're all a bunch of apathetic lackies. Frankly, it may well be that this blog has temporarily lost its momentum. After all, there's only so much self-important ranting that one can

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1087944707864348972004-06-22T17:46:00.000-05:002004-06-22T17:53:09.933-05:00

Virtues of a Virgin Voter: Or Why I’m Voting NDP As vociferous a reader I am, Tuesday June 22, 2004 will mark the first time in my 21 years of existence that I have bought a book on the day it is released to the public. I have committed that “sin” with other forms of media: opening day for films; the purchase of an album on its release; every Wednesday I purchase new graphical literature (comic

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1087527102836582852004-06-17T21:51:00.000-05:002004-06-17T21:51:42.836-05:00

(System Of A Down, System Of A Down) I’m playing System Of A Down’s self-titled album (no, this is not a “review”) as the black dog that shares my current domicile seems to be going apeshit upstairs. I’m calmly sipping water from a brandy snifter, staring at a room which looks cleaner than it has ever been in the past 5 months. Welcome to my life. I’m making this point, as this is the

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1087079860005930732004-06-12T16:38:00.000-05:002004-06-13T16:29:21.690-05:00

Propelled by another bout of glowing rhetoric in the alternative press, I sauntered down to Central Square last night to take in the sounds of Boston's 'The Good North'. Little did I know that a relatively unknown opening act would totally overshadow them. The evening opened with a whirlwind set by another one of the city's avant-garde up-and-comers, The Bon Savants. Having seen them at the

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1086145402457592602004-06-01T22:02:00.000-05:002004-06-01T22:03:22.456-05:00

Prashant has chastised me for my utter lack of literary contribution to our collective blog. What can I say in my defence? That procrastination is a bitch? That I’ve been preoccupied with a host of other issues in my life? Unfortunately, in this day and age, no excuse will be good enough for the extreme detractors. Take a look at the situation in Iraq (or as the impeccably witty Jon Stewart calls

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1084929584280778882004-05-18T19:26:00.000-05:002004-05-18T20:19:44.280-05:00

Two long years ago, while still a green and youthful college junior, I decided it would be a good idea to enlist myself in that glorious spectacle that Nick has likened to cattle droppings. 'McMUN', the annual McGill Model UN conference was a much hyped and anticipated event in the lives of many an IR major and the odd outsider like myself. The lead-up to the three days of theatrics consisted

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1083635062264137802004-05-03T20:43:00.000-05:002004-05-03T20:49:12.250-05:00

While making my weekend jaunt around my neighbourhood, I encountered a herd of well-dressed young men and women. “Sophisticated lot,” I thought to myself, observing them meandering towards various eateries for lunch. Upon closer inspection, however, I found that the suits were a little too loose, the skirts a little too high, and their demeanors a little too naïve. Was this merely a flock of

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1083391132727089532004-05-01T00:16:00.000-05:002004-05-01T16:13:52.670-05:00

If you feel the need to feign a vibrato, you may as well become a professional air guitarist. Unfortunately, this was a nuance amongst many others that was lost on the hopelessly pretentious members of a band named 'Moonraker' tonight. I guess I should have put two and two together when I noticed that both the Boston Globe and Boston Herald presented positive reviews of them. Nevertheless, I

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1082952738220082812004-04-25T23:12:00.000-05:002004-04-25T23:16:30.606-05:00

Writing late at night is the best feeling ever. Emerging from a drug induced stupor, you grasp at those last vestiges of inspiration, compelling you to quickly enunciate your thoughts on the flickering screen of your computer. My inspiration comes from a variety of sources; the magazine I was reading, Pat Methany playing in the background; the usual hubbub that happens in my house on a rainy

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1082427868733026942004-04-19T20:22:00.000-05:002004-04-19T22:28:48.746-05:00

"Hypocrite, Opportunist, don't infect me with your poison." -Thom Yorke, from Punch up at a Wedding In his indictment of society's collective dyslexia, Nick brings up the important topic of fallacious arguments. "Name Calling", a classic case of the Ad Hominem fallacy is perhaps the most rampant in all societies. One only needs to open a newspaper or any other form of popular media to be

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1082076361830272652004-04-15T19:45:00.000-05:002004-04-15T20:04:43.280-05:00

Two nights ago, I tried to compose something coherent to be posted on this ol’ Blog. Unfortunately, what came spewing forth from my keyboard was complete and utter crap. I had no sense of direction, purpose or clarity in my writing. Not only was it unintelligible, but I was vainly attempting to criticize poor writing on the Internet. How ironic that my feeble attempts resulted in a feeble effort

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1081478634850495692004-04-08T20:00:00.000-05:002004-04-08T22:43:15.043-05:00

Our readers appear to have spoken. Thanks. As for the culture industry debate, I have the following to contribute: Those who believe that artists can and will ever be exempt from a well-defined microeconomic model are living in a fool's paradise. The heavily biased 'buffet' of mainstream music today, otherwise known as a collusive oligopoly, is just a skewed model that mostly rewards adherence

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1081292227620871132004-04-06T17:30:00.000-05:002004-04-06T19:16:04.106-05:00

YEEARRRRGHHHH!!! Hmm. Trying to emulate Beck's opening scream in "Lord Only Knows" doesn't seem to translate too well in the written form. However, the sound is exactly what I need to describe the current state of music, as well as the convulsions that my stomach was going through following an Indian buffet feast Sunday evening. The music-buffet analogy works on a variety of levels. Entering a

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1081053306809839212004-04-03T20:31:00.000-05:002004-04-07T10:04:10.153-05:00

Being a part of the audience at the downstairs concert hall of the Middle East club last night, I had a tangible sense that I was witnessing something unusually progressed. The NYC art-rock scene seems to have delivered its latest flourish of genius and it goes by the name of Stellastarr*. Probably the most distinguishing characteristic of the show was the utterly cathartic audience response. A

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1080966054602679632004-04-02T23:00:00.000-05:002004-04-03T01:10:25.513-05:00

So I'm sitting at my computer with an empty bottle of Wolf Blass 2001 Shiraz from South Australia, contemplating this task before me. Earlier on my "commute" (a 20 minute streetcar/subway ride) from work today, I came to the conclusion that my first post would focus on the concept of indecisiveness. As Prashant wrote, this idea had indeed been brewing for quite some time. I remember the exact

Nick Yeohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08962685968182047622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6712692.post-1080878621759640972004-04-01T22:21:00.000-05:002004-04-02T15:33:00.983-05:00

This idea has been brewing for a while. After some debate over the title, content and style we've finally managed to reach a consensus. The title was probably the greatest source of contention. We were struggling to find a compromise between brevity and accuracy. Nick's a posteriori deconstructionist analysis will follow. As this is an idea board, the content will undoubtedly meander into the

Prashantnoreply@blogger.com0