As you may know, I find Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited (which includes Hotel Chevalier) to be his best and most artistic film to date. The film offers fertile ground for interpretations, observations, and discussion through its masterful use of ambiguity and understatement.

For me, the movie is, first and foremost, about the realities associated with an intentional spiritual journey:
() the decision to undertake a journey
() gestures of spirituality
() failure/absurdity
() moment of transformation and/or enlightenment
() the question of what, if anything, has actually changed in the journeyed person

The latter point/question haunts me, although I take courage from this: Failure, disconnection, and suffering do not abate; however, the person who seeks to embrace life, face the self, and connect with others, despite these challenges, seems to gain access to a kernel of goodness that is at the centre of being/being human. Simply put, I see that, although they continue to suffer, the Whitman’s are transformed by their journey (albeit incrementally).

On a more general note, there are some elements in The Darjeeling Limited that could have been treated more subtly (father’s baggage, “I guess I have some more healing to do”), however for me these elements do not detract significantly. They are the raw in the raw and the cooked.

The writers seem to address these elements by simultaneously pointing to them and joking about them. Example: the scene where the train is lost. Francis says “Isn’t that symbolic?! We haven’t located us yet. . Where are those feathers at? . . . ” Being lost on the way allows the Whitman’s another attempt to confront themselves and one another, as well as their past and their fears—and their hopes. Regardless of how awkward the symbols are, they contribute to the spiritual journey of Francis, Peter, and Jack. The obvious, the awkward, and the mundane—not only the cataclysmic—play a role in changing a person.

So. I was going to write a post about how I am starting to work out again at Lindsay Park. The point of the post was really to complain about: (a) how I went too hard the first time around, and (b) that my pecs hurt. Boring, really.

So, I thought I’d try to round up a great image for the post.
So I googled beefcake. And so my troubles began . . .
Anyway, I’ve done my worst for this post. There’s no image, Laura now suspects I’m gay, and my pecs hurt. Typical day.

CBC’s Spark just did a show on favourite old technologies. I couldn’t help but add my story into the mix:

My love for “old” technology is best represented by my stereo system: My first cd player was purchased in the early 1990s at Canadian Tire for about $90 (which was a hefty chunk of my dishwashing earnings!). The player survived my teenage years (and associated abuses), although it lost a few buttons along the way. It survived university years, and it still plays music for my wife and I today (although I have to use special technique to get it to play most cds).
I run the player through an old stereo amp that use to be my Dad’s when he was in college in the early 70s. It’s a sweet tube amp that has a great sounds and good power. In fact, I had a friend make me an offer on it, as he thought it was an invaluable relic for refined music tastes . .. I don’t know about that, but I do know I like it.

Thanks to The Hour!

Not enough people play go. Most people don’t even know what it is. Go is an elegant board game, easier to learn than chess, but harder to master. The rules are very simple, however, the number of possible combinations of the game are exponentially greater than chess. The number of possible go games is: 2.08168199382 × 10 to the power of 170! It is likely the most complex game of all time, meaning that Deep Blue wouldn’t stand a chance if it were playing a strong go player.

Go is a game of territory; the object is to secure more territory by the end of the game than your opponent. I’ve wrangled up the Top Ten Reasons to Play Go, in an effort to find more folk to compete with me. I also found a good NY Times article on the wonder of go.

Doing some research for work, I found this great idea . . . which makes me lament Calgary’s current attitude towards recycling, but gives me hope that Calgarians might actually want to recycle using RecycleBank!

Fortune Cookie:
#1: Do not dwell on differences with a loved one - try to compromise.
#2: You will be surrounded by things of luxury.

Fortune Cookie:
#1: Do not dwell on differences with a loved one - try to compromise.
#2: You will be surrounded by things of luxury.

In Hot Air Gods, a short essay by Curtis White in Harper’s (December 2007), White discusses how the isolation common to people practicing Western spiritualities latently support the invisible hand of capitalism: the Market God. White works hard to show the consequences of individuated beliefs, which seldom participate in dialogue with other beliefs or believers. One consequence of isolation is the inability to create change and participate in movements (such as the environmental movement). The key point that I take from White is that personal isolation makes impossible ethical living. This idea challenges me because isolation, rather than connection, comes easy for me.

I wanted to call attention to White’s article because it is beautifully written, clear, and brief. If you can, pick up the latest edition of Harper’s Magaine (Dec. 2007) or read Hot Air Gods in pdf. It is worth your time.

Question Posed to Me by Laura:
Are you four!?