大概五六年後，我將會把這部沒有video拍攝功能，另置鏡頭又撚貴，個叉電座又神神地鬆鬆地的機送給另一個人，而自己買了非常輕便的sony RX100 III，又冇鏡頭換又唔係特別輕，但黑暗環境的拍攝質素卻是非常impressive。我又再次到海洋公園試機。今次我的心態轉了，再下苦功，進步都不會很大，還是求鳩期，加個lightroom plan，憑後天修補可以自我滿足罷了。
所以我從來都說，我不夠喜歡音樂。我真的認為甚麼旋律、base track甚麼的全不重要。音樂沒有世界大同，只有有你冇我。rule of thumb 1：你老豆老母鍾意乜音樂，絕對唔可以鍾意。rule of thumb 2：甚麼最經典金曲，絕對不可鍾意，即使是Dolores O’Riordan （所以我真係一聲都唔出）。rule of thumb 3：milk雜誌話最正唱片，絕對唔可以鍾意，多少張推介的頂級大碟，全部拿筆mark彽，唾棄之，搞掂。rule of thumb 4：人人都話難聽的，即使真的是張如城和軟雪糕，偏偏嘗試去鍾意；人人都話好感動的，絕對不能去碰。那個人自然型到不得了。音樂﹐不是為了享受。相反，聽音樂就是不可以享受。那才可以always wee bit different, always wee bit defiant, always inch away from your comfort zone, to make it sound bad, to make it sound better.
P.S. 但正如我上面講，千萬不要聽人給你的推介，一推介了就不型吧。很矛盾。很1999吧。yes. Because it is.
P.P.S. I love YaKeala so much…
無錯。諗住去unplug的地方就是北海道。札幌食隱世小店拉麵，旭川唔知乜野山的風呂用google translate 同老闆娘溝通，到富良野一片花海和大陸港豚餵草泥馬嘈喧巴閉。。。
洗滌心靈與否很難答。但對每日都活在air quality index超標的港漂，藍藍的天和新鮮的風，確係洗滌肺部。日日食到好似要嘔出來直情是洗滌消化系統。但熱到30度的北海道，可否走去同美國攞舊冰入senate chamber問人 if you say there is warming what’s this的嗰位參議員講，
A bloody eighty degrees,
Fahrenheit, in somewhere over thirty fucking degree
North，if you say no such thing as global warming’s
I let you in, lecturing me what’s this
However bad the hell I stay
And get my head out, with my antenna, nose the hell out of it.
You stump, I breed
You pesticide, I dodge somewhere it can’t reach
You housetrap me, you poisbait me, I smart it out and get ahead
You rain with anything, I even fly with my ugly indecent wings.
To tell you, I come and go with you, and a billion years before you were born and after you die,
I am the only one who’ll win.
Tick tak tick tak. Clock is ticking. We are heading for 71, the First of July in 2017; or July First Twenty Seventeen –American way. And, we are going to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Hong Kong being a part of Chinese authority, with our President Xi Jing Ping.
Tell you what. Despite all my different pranks in this week in the name of #我愛你我的國 家 (i.e. I love you my country), it is sometimes true, and I mean what I say literally, sometimes. I like dreams, so do I talking about dreams. It has been so nice to hear of a president like Xi who is rejuvenate his country with the notion of “Chinese Dream". Yeah…it’s a plagiarism of “American Dream" but…you know…if the copyright owners have not litigated about theirs being infringed upon there is no infringement case, is there? It will be fascinating and inspiring when our President dares to dream; and encourages his people to be as audacious, to act on their dreams. It should be very powerful. It should be steaming. It should be skyrocking. It should be catapulting. It should be explosive full of possibilities and opportunities, from the western most mountains to the ocean in the east and south.
Dream is….without boundary, without oppression, without censorship of any kind, any religion, any political ideology, any ethnicity and social mores. How powerful, would it be that our President inspires all of us to act on our dreams. Last night, I went to APM, a big shopping mall in Kwun Tong, Hong Kong, China, to wait for my taxi as I usually do after work. When I saw the big promotion picture of Arimura Kasumi in SKII the cosmetic shop, I remembered I used to dream I would dare having an affair if it were for her. If there is one thing as Dream Incorrectness (D.I.) gone mad, it should be this, which would lead my life to devastation in the name of aphrodisiac! Act on dream, China. It should be Pragmatic Conscience (P.C.) gone mad, leading us to get back our ancient glory at the apex of our political and diplomatic power.
The best leaders always are the ones who are telling their own dreams, that resonate with the crowd of people whom they address. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, Nelson Mandela, Chairman Mao, JFK, Ronald Reagen, Steve Jobs, Gorby, President Barack Obama (I many times say proudly I cried shamelessly in MTR the first time I read his Victory Speech in 2008 about American Dreams), Bernie Saunders, Jesus Christ,…. my list seems short just because I don’t read a lot. But it will never be exhaustive. They all sell dreams that work for their crowd. The crowd of people, with exception, get inspired by the dream, and act on the dream together, crossing their own comfort zone and boundaries, to make changes, massive movement, massive something. It is because they find something beyond selves. That’s the power of dream.
Having said the above, our President Xi, like all great leaders, has been posing some philosophical challenge to me –at least, when he seemed to imply that “Chinese Dream" can only point to certain directions, rather than being radial, sporadic and amorphous. Or….I put it this way…..our President Xi’s version of dream, like any other things in China, has freedom, but within bound that we are all sure is there but can never be sure where it is exactly. It is exactly what they meant when David Remnick interviewed Ai Wei Wei in New York recently.
It tickled me when David asked Ai, “I know there are many limit Chinese should not cross. Democracy is one of those, so is earthquake in Sichuan….now Ai Wei Wei is now another one is it?" And Ai replied, “the power of Chinese oppression is that we all have guess that limit, while they never tell you where the limit is because they are always ready to change that limit." OKay. It basically means I am wrong. “Chinese Dream" is not amorphous and static. In stead, it has been very dynamic, like video games in PlayStation. But one thing is sure, the control is definitely in our President’s hands (it may be single noun if he is playing Wii).
In that podcast, I heard of many different dreams of different people in China. Mr. Ai Wei Wei dreams of having a China who can take responsibility for the victims in Wenchuan. He dreams of having a China who allows freedom of speech. The girl in NYU dreams of having a China who enshrines and embraces feminism and gay rights. She said many girls in China dreams of being Ivanka, being pretty as much as being free of having to choose an all-or-nothing choose between family and career. There are many other dreams in China. One girl dreams of having the allowance of breathing air free of carcinogenic pollutants. Workers in Foxconn may dream of having a toilet time unchecked, and having OT paid. I have a friend who always dream of China getting involved in World War III, so that there may be a glimpse of hope of having it defeated and having it getting rid of Hong Kong. Silly though, I think his dream is always his entitlement that I can judge but not crush. Liu Xiaobo had a dream, in his “I have no enemy", of having friends in the prison he was in for fucking 8 years until liver failure recently, only because he used to have a dream that China acknowledges what he wrote in his Constitution. Hong Kong Umbrella Movement was a spasmodic collective dream of a group of people who dreamed of having a China who could regard what was written in our mini Constitution, letting Hong Kong people have a real progress in democracy. Some ideologic ideotiques in Hong Kong have a dream of severing Hong Kong from China politically. Again. Frenetic, masturbation gone mad, Singaporean Dream (S.D.) gone mad, but they have 100% entitlement to their dream. I can judge, not crush. Ethnic minority in Tibet and East Turkijistan have dream of having equal rights with Han majority. Jailed human rights lawyers and journalists in China dream of having China honour the basic livelihood of ordinary people, and bare minimum of justice in front of abuse and corruption of Chinese officials and party camaraderie. I don’t like Mr. John Tsang. But his campaign for an election long decided was so impressive, esp. when he said, “I really hope people from all walks of live in Hong Kong come together, dream together, even for just one night." His way of giving his statement a stain of irony and dark humour did make me feel something.
It is even more ironic when I review their dreams, I am gobsmacked by the blur between dream, which is supposed to be audacious and boundless, and humble wish, and basic requirement of living in a civilised country. What Chinese have been dreaming, as far as I know, has shrunk into a bucket of wishing sticks in Wong Tai Sin because not only can we grasp the limit pre-set of our dream to keep us save, but also can’t we get what has been promised in Constitution, laws and other forms of agreements between us and our Government in Beijing.
I also have my dream. I dream of all people in China, having their wrap removed by that “Chinese Dream" so that they can get back their entitlement to dream of anything they want to dream. I dream of all people in China at least getting back the right to dream. I dream of all people in China really mean it when they say, “I am dreaming. Just dreaming." I dream I have no irony or sarcasm, when I say, “I so fucking love you my Country."
The one thing I start here is a complaint, or question, or a portmanteau quesplaint:
How can I register a UK iTunes account if I live in Hong Kong, so that, I can save my time (bloody three months!) waiting for the movie to be released for rent.
To be honest, this review is quite partial and biased, and you know why. And I have to admit, this movie is specifically tuned, and 10x supercharged, to fans of Trainspotting the movie and/or the novel. From the pub they had used to meet (and met again in the movie), to the council flat they had used to jab their heroin (where Spud jabbed himself for suicide, and later stuck the pictures and notes of their primes, their junk, their togetherness, etc.), to Renton’s claustrophobic room in Edinburgh pasted with trains repetitive wall paper from corner to corner, to the public toilet, to the music, to the grass where Mark Renton used to give his classic oratory about Scotland, to the package of the movie for promotion, in short in every single sense, Danny Boyle is telling you only one theme about the story, Nostalgia, good’o days/bad’o days. Danny Boyle and his whole team are shamelessly and blatantly asserting that they are consuming our (fans’) nostalgic feeling of the first installment of this movie in 1993, when started the rocket stardom of literally all of them. Danny Boyle went so far to deliberately make a plot to rewind the scene where Renton did his cunning youth smile in front of the windshield, which is, to me, very honest, the worst, the most out-of-context, the most on99 and the oddest part of the whole movie.
However, Danny Boyle grasped every opportunity in the plot, in the lighting, in the sound, in the cut, the shooting, to give you a sense of irony, which is equally shared by both the characters in the story and the whole production team creating the movie (director and actors included), that they have changed a lot already. First of all, the movie is no cult movie anymore. The actors and directors are no nobody anymore. They cannot treat everything in the set as though the same as they used to be. Age, fate, marriage, family, health, weary, success or failure (mostly failure), loneliness, helplessness (Renton’s another classic quote “I can live another 30 years. But what the fuck do I live for these 30 years?"), international football, Kelly MacDonald, Edinburgh, Scotland, UK, the social media, the parties, the crimes, the gangster system, the immigration system (I couldn’t help myself LOL when Renton asked the Edinburgh Ambassador where she was from, and she answered Slovenia in Eastern European Accent), the social care system (Danny used the last rolling to tell you the end of social housing even in Edinburgh!). Cinematic photography has changed a lot since 1993. Danny Boyle kept the par on that change in the movie. His shooting of Edinburgh was heartrendingly delicate, especially the night time. That parallel narratives of the movie about that irony faced by them both in front of and and behind the scene is the best part, telling me the sharpness and dark humour of Danny Boyle is still here, if not even sharper.
The movie tried to make use of many nuances and minutiae to tell the characters that everything has moved on without them. However, all those minutiae and nuances point us back to the Bulgarian hooker, Veronica. It is one of the weaker part of the movie. But I don’t mind. Veronica is so enjoyable throughout the movie. If we really need a muse, she is the muse. And, sometimes, few is better than many, and one is better than few. The characters also knew that everything has moved on без themselves. But they couldn’t help but kept self-tormenting, self-haunting by what happened 20 years ago. The baby, Tommy, the 20,000 pounds, the betrayal, George Best, Protestant/Catholic Scotland, the heroin, the wild time of youth. I know it’s not a very innovative theme. Neither was the them innovatively presented. But at certain age, like mine, such theme just keeps resonating within my soul, captivating and reverberating, until the echo from within dissipates after a week, 2 weeks or a month. And when there is another one presenting exactly the same tune, the resonation rewinds all over again. So I told you I am biased. This movie reminds me of a drama made in HK a couple of years ago, When Heaven Burns. Same theme (Nostalgia), same time-frame (20 years), same number of characters (5), same sense of helplessness in front of those feelings (remorse, betrayal, rage, guilty pleasure and enthusiasm of what we used to do), except the carnage (it’s totally unimportant as I haven’t been shown even one scene of cannibalism). But T2 is comparatively better. It is because, in the mud of all those shit, we should also find something funny. And T2 is after all very funny.
After T2, I not only can remember every single character, I also find myself a bit down that I have to say goodbye to all of them, as I’m quite sure they cannot make T3 anyhow. I believe that.
75 out of 100
It will be one of the numbers I will keep in my mind, my vein, until I die.
Just like 623 2016, 118 2016.
For a long time, I have tried very hard, very hard, not to talk about politics. I have been so afraid of myself being full of myself, fool of myself, talking politics, since 623, 714, 118. I know I used to be like that before those numbers, those dates. Being egotistic, I know I used to sound like, smell like, a left-leaning hypocrite. I know I used to sound like, smell like, I know a lot of things about politics, about society, about economy, about class, about votes. There used to be a twitter mate who I guess studied sociology and philosophy. He told me, at the crest of my pomposity about left-leaning ideologue about 2 years ago, that he didn’t see left leaning ideas would come back to hit any time soon. Traditional industries are not here anymore. Traditional sectors that can create a large horde of workers to work together, get a drink together, form a club together, form a bondage to each other, together, are long gone. At the time, I just heard something, but couldn’t listen to anything. Just can’t, have anything that could be put into my brain, except what I thought was true. That used to be me, until the numbers, 623, 714, 118.
So, I felt I was completely defeated by those numbers. When I felt defeated, I reflected, oftener than not the words from the keyboard of that socio-philosophist. Since then have I always remind myself, don’t talk about it. Don’t ever talk about it. Avoid it. Foil it. Not because I finally got a sense of remorse, but I just don’t want to be my laughing stock. So I stop.
Until a couple of weeks ago, that snap poll called by Theresa May, that woman who now still clings on in her parliament, who always takes for granted that Westminster is nothing but HER OWN parliament. Out of something I still can’t explain fully, I called that bet again, that I will have a table for 12 for anyone who comes, if SHE can take a majority larger than 3. That means, I just know, 328 out of 650. I just don’t know. I still don’t know, how I figured that bet. Like Labour, I was not very good at counting and maths. It might be just a gambler’s intuition, always bet on riskier side, always bet on weak, because if I lose, just a bet, while if I win, I win big.
It seems I did win. But that I won doesn’t explain anything about myself. So I am not going to give you explanation about how Labour won big. And literally they didn’t. They have just got back to where they used to be in 2010 under Gordon Brown, a hung, a stalemate, a tell-tale that there are still about a million people who feel alienated by Labour. And, to be most humble, I still don’t know what has been through. I just want to share my feeling, a tinkle of being a little smart ass when the result is all clear.
- I actually think that Labour was smart not ever taking strong view about Brexit. Some people used to blame Labour on their anaemic, or retreating, stance about Anti-Brexit, about Article 50, about Second Referendum against Brexit. From what I have heard from British saying, in TV show interview, in Radio Show, I have a sense many of them don’t feel pain about what they decided on 623. They are conscious they will have a hard time leaving EU. But they haven’t winced or wailed. That’s just not what they are. They just want to get it on. If my sense was right, that Labour sounded retreating about Brexit/ Anti-Brexit might be viewed by people as honouring a majority of people who made that decision, while they won’t be so high and hard sounding about severing any tie to EU at all cost, thus alienating the young voters. After all, Brexit as an issue to Labour is just “Not My Problem". Brexit is in all sense a Frankenstein invented by Tories and Tories themselves.
- “For the many, Not the few" was the campaign motto/ tagline of Labour in this election. It sounded quite silly to me when I first heard of it. But the message turned out ringing so ear-poppingly clamorous to voters, esp. those who have suffered the most in the last 5 years of austerity, the disabled, the people working in National Health Service, the singled parents, the people who have had their benefits and allowances cut to bare minimum. To them, the message pierced right through their mind to create pictures, movies of what they’ve been through, and their future, to the brink of something like clairvoyance. The message was proven today so powerful, like cannon that was shot right through the heart of where Labour voters used to be, Wales, Glasgow, Northwest, Northeast, Islington, Haringey, Bromley, Liverpool Tooting, Leeds, Sheffield, Hull. I have to confess even I underestimated him, and this message of his. I have never, even a minute, thought that it could be so powerful, so majestic.
This passage from New Yorker I read today is the one I like most among all the opinions I read: http://www.newyorker.com/news/benjamin-wallace-wells/how-jeremy-corbyn-moved-past-the-politics-of-2016?intcid=mod-latest?reload
“Rise, like lions after slumber / In unvanquishable number! / Shake your chains to earth like dew / Which in sleep had fallen on you: / ye are many—they are few!”
“For the many, not the few.” “protect this, defend that, support this person.” “Tonight is different….We’re not defending. We’re not defending. We don’t need to. We are asserting. Asserting our view that a society that cares for all is better than a society that only cares for the few.”
2008 I cried like mad in MTR reading the victory speech of Barack Obama. The above speech is comparatively short. And I didn’t cry because of it. But it doesn’t mean it is anything less than Obama’s. At least it is what I think, at the moment. Comparatively, Corbyn’s is ridden of that academic snob of Obama’s, while adding a tint of Street smart. And, most of all, Corbyn’s is even more genuine. He has been standing in Islington, defending for whatever he thinks is worth a stand, a sit-in, for 30 years. Once again, his message pierced right through his supporters’ mind to create pictures, movies of what they’ve been through, what Corbyn’s been through, and their future, their common future, their calm and spirit even their future would be so uncertain (and it’s true), their not giving a shit of their lose come what may (as they’ve been losing for 30 years) to the brink of something like clairvoyance. How powerful, how majestic.
Irony is. He still hasn’t won.
So. I keep on what I have been doing, avoid it, eschew it. foil it. As I really don’t know much about politics, about society, about economy. And, above all, I did’t win.
Fight on, mate.
以下的一個比喻, 好像在twitter掀起過風波裡的茶杯. 或其實只是我睇錯. 其實我成日都睇錯. 若我睇錯, 或睇位/體位錯, 請原諒我.
有關見工的關鍵最後自選項目, “你對我們有什麼問題?", 的選擇, 或表演 somersault 曲體三周半直插壓水, someone said something. and someone else said that something / someone is not right, or absurd, or inappropriate.
以上我是否有性暗示, 我不清楚. 學很多人話齋, 我講野, 寫野一向唔清楚. 但有人用了拍拖為比喻. 這就很清楚. 是對是錯, 請看以下的比喻:
你會否在Tinder成功約會後, 在想發生男女朋友關係之前, 想問清楚自己的福利時, 問: 「嗱老老實實, 這對我很重要. 我未來是否有得口爆先?」?
嗱老老實實. 我今次亦明白他的用意. 指出said something 嗰個 someone, 問一些大剎風景的問題, 破壞了面試時的conventional關係互動. 亦直接使想請你的人看出你重自己的福利大於你想對工作的貢獻.
但係呢….修辭上, 那人明顯的示範了運用比喻的常犯錯誤 – 引用不當/不合適. 而不合適的通常原因, 正是比喻的事物, 和比作的事物之間, context相差太遠, 而變成. too stretched a simile. too anaemic a pun.
套用以上的例子. 見工用面試這種方法去評估/測試應徵者是否適合自己. 我大膽的叫 test by interview. 個場景通常是one on one / two on one / (Microsoft 見 CEO的) 冚家鏟嚟on one. 測試者和被測試者之間會用若干的東西去劃一條界線, 用的是枱? 五尺的地氈? 彼此都預知的一系列的問題由測試者發動? 或 all of them. 當然, 有些時候測試者可因應雙方的懸殊而把這條界線大幅拉近, 甚至真是可以用「睇你識唔識做呢」的性暗示去真軍測試對方是否適合提供某些工作以外的服務 (詳情可上myavsuper及打關鍵字 OL 面試 Boss. Subtle一點的可以參考美劇 Man in the High Castle第一季第六集女主角Juliana到Jap Emperor Authority見文員工的一幕). 但大致上, 這種test by interview是一問, 一答的公式刻板.
輪到tinder約會. 你都可以叫面試的. 但我更大膽的generalise 叫 test on job. 就是設一個模擬的親密情景/環境, 測試者和被測試者, 之間的界線, 不是沒有, 而是跟test by intervew非常不同. 總不至於中間有張枱, 而測試者攞住大張問題紙而叫被測試者首先介紹自己, 而被測試者就講. 早晨, 等我首先介紹一下我自己先. 我DSE五優二良. 在XY大學19系First Hon畢業, 對溝女永遠有一份執著, 但尤其被妳在tinder profile 的自我介紹 及你相片展現的有波有羅而深感興趣. 所以多謝你給我這個機會跟妳見面. 咁架.
通常都是, 正路都是, 你挑下我, 我又豆下你咁架….在這環境, 再沒有一set問題, 一set tasks. 而是被測試者真是要落手做, 好像無薪INTERN一樣, 圖用表演/現去感動對方,
trick stick her/him into a long term relationship, with alot of sex to come. 那可能被測試者不用提, 都主動,le tart 去製造更cordial的 foreplay more date 也未可知.
21世紀, 冇幾多人真是介意任何人滿腦都是性暗示. 但比喻是否用得對. 去決定的規範, 還是要回到去16 17世紀.
亂UP 24完畢. 又要回去構思故事的Chapter 11. 今次真是好頭痛.
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
What I done to you you keep witch huntin’
What I don’t do you oft’ framin’
Shamin’ Damnin’ but we just do our music babe
Indy wha sis it you no need listenin’
Neemetter how hard you try is a Universe to your fuckin’ brain
Just dodgying, dogging, behind your stupid thing
Article what? 10, 20, or 30?
Or Ordinance, what? Section 133 (a) (b) (c)
To me, to you, just nothin’ sisn’t fittin’ your shitstematic
which think of nothin’ nothin’
But how long a doggy you take meetin’ Xi Jing Ping.
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
Stupid, like a phallus, you gangs do calculus of callous
We call it dope you call it useless, lightless, lewdness
Drug. You call it drug, a poison from a mug of thug
But ye know, what sis drug? Music’s drug, 東方’s drug
大媽’s drug, power’s drug, money’s drug, real estate’s drug
梁美芬’s drug, 林以諾’s drug, Religion’s drug, CCP’s drug
Pop music? Drug. The druggest of the drug.
We can’t do without drug, so can you,
Keepin us always a step from die
To the shittest, we dupe us it’s still fine
But we’re sure, mine is fine coz I don’t do you fine
I won’t evict nobody, as if yours are mine
Reggae, Hiphop, Noisepop, Synthpop, we enjoy ourselves
Do no harm to the world.
But your phalla boodozer, you keep fuck my girl
My only girl, my only pearl, my only world
Unfurl my arms, as do but a hundred palms,
With calm, unarmed, in a puny stage
If we ever brawl you coz you freak me out, drag me out,
who have nothing, but a guitar, synther’ and a drum of pulse
So get out. I say one more time, You dodgy cunt, get out.
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
We no rebel I hope you understand
If youth does offend it’s just passed you ma’am, Yo man
Don’t hypo crush me pretend you care
I know what you done you’ve got pepper man
I know you man
I saw you man
Beat the shit out and you cry out foul
Your shit ‘ouse, Clubhouse, outlaw no doubt
Stop critique you motherfucker cunt me mouth
I’m not your cum you louse
Cuff me music for we worked in house
I ain’t no work no doubt
Please dirty shut your mouth
We contributin’ your shitty’ town with my clout
My only clout my mouth
Don’t humiliate it with your mouth,
I tell you, you learn
It’s contributing. It’s singing. It’s soul searching.
It’s heart mending. It’s a stop call
Call us from bending, corruptin’ like all of you,
who dup us devil, but I still love you,
I keep me hope, One day I hope, embrace your sin
till you leave your soul, to the where I know,
I know, for sure, you snort nosed punter,
I call it
Fuck you Fuck you Fuck you Fuck you Fuck you Fuck you
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
Park. not for music.
Garden. not for music.
Street. not for music.
Flat. not for music.
Cafe. not for music.
Stadia. not for music.
Not here. Not there. Not for music f’ yer fuck sake.
Where the ‘ell sis music on yer lipstick. No music but yer
Yo set your
STAGE! for every little genre would say
BABY yer’ most welcome to stage I set my date, must a put a crimy
FACE! say hey I love you boss, for yo’ the cause of
EVERYTHING! Rock’n’ Roll, Core, Post-Core, Gothic, not allowed till you
CALL! PatriOT! Comrade I owe you
MORE! than my whole country. There’s no country. But your own country.
Censor! until I pass N’ yo’ loving me, bullshit you know,
What is music? Is no country. No
Border! I crush them all with my own language, ‘mbrace
You ALL! With one idea. It’s called love, hate, fun, sex, drug, anything just up to me. It’s called
FREEDOM! express oneself, yo’ not that used to but it’s still here
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
Dodgy Cunt You Dodgy Cunt
Thirteenth day has passed, but I’m still in the dark.
Droops of my eye socket, Cash in my wallet, droplets/
By droplets of Machiatto in the bin, on the desk,
Mechanic Texts every 7:30 pm said,
I am gone, I’ll be back, 5 minutes Cab, plate number/
576 6678 802 0808 92 95 00, On the cab. Back and/
How are you? Still busy, still not yet, still going, and back/
To the same o’ mechanic text expected, the same time, same text,
same said, same phone-in number, and a string of seemingly random plate numbers,
Same numerical string. Same o’ strain on my left leg up to my thigh.
Sometimes, on the right side.
Are sign of
I am still working.
其實呢篇我似想到一些東西但又不是太講得出來是甚麼來著. 畢竟我是一個頗垃圾的BLOGGER. 我大概嘗試這樣說吧. 我都跟我個女這樣說. 任何一樣你認為有生命的東西. 都會有genesis, peak, senile, expire. 這個循環. Expire嗰日, 那一樣有生命的東西要不自行消失, 要不他不消失大家看他更討厭. 你可以叫那個expire 叫死, 正如其他人一般說. 但亦可以叫其他名詞. Karma. Exegesis, Absolve, Dissolve, Resolve, Assimilate. 任你說, 意思都是差不多. 他應走的路已到盡頭.
很多韓粉可以拗, K-POP永垂不朽. 正如黃貫中日日講Rock and Roll never die. 我的雲畫永遠存在大家的心. 我都講過我永遠愛誰. 人人都懂說, 但人人一稍抽離, 就知這只是你心中的堅執, 頑固, 或Kellyanne 講的 alternative fact. 即係faith. 即係其實存不存在已不重要. 我只要看見成個地鐵都是NOW TV暖男暖語韓劇宣傳, 就知道K這個概念已經水尾. 就正如HERO在香港有得做第一集, 木村心知他的途都行得差不多.
這叫做潮流. 有潮漲, 有潮退. 沒有人可以改變. 亦沒有人可以堅持不變. 好多人懷緬香港的80年代流行文化, 還嘔心的說句軟實力. 這個老土到呢…..其實, 西方現在都大規模的nostalgic, 懷緬光輝的8 90 年代, 懷緬曾經存在的 La La Land. Make America Great Again. Make Cantopop Great Again. Make Oscar Great Again. Make Singin in the Rain Great Again. 但只要抬頭清醒一下, 就看清, 潮流已經過.
有個牧師曾跟我說, 我們不能造浪, 只能逐浪, 頂多能比其他人快一點嗅到浪, 快D轉, 快D掹. 生活在潮流的人, 制作的, 欣賞的, 表演的, 都要知道這個所謂潮流是怎麼一回事. 大戲曾有人認為會永垂不滅. 在任白時. 但隨著人類生活的改變, 大戲再沒有能力由其宏偉的裝置downsize去適應社會. 變成沒能力再通俗下去, 即使你有毛主席.
大家都看過Who Moved My Cheese. 大家應該是時候apply. Change, We Can…要更上一步….Change, We are forced. 改變不到對潮流的喜愛和劇毒的, 就只有轉. 否則, 不如學Keanu Reeves. 明知John Wicks 條橋Out了N代, 依然一句, 我就是喜歡. 你吹呀….