Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Waltzing with Bashir

Saw the movie.

Some artists exist simply to validate the world which we--the human animals--shape around us; some with such force and clarity that they make you jealous of the lives they have sketched.

Not that I would want to be thrown into a war as a teenager to suffer its consequences for the rest of my life, but you get what I mean.

A young man whom everybody thought of as a genius who'd end up a nuclear physicist ends up selling falafel in Holland, and has a good laugh about it.

It is a beautiful experience, this movie, and every adult person who cares occasionally to be jolted into thinking should watch it.

In other news: it is close to 1 AM; I am listening to old Hindi songs as I try to type up the stuff I have written during the day, and I am very, very sleepy. Without caffeine--or any other stimulant, really--I find it hard to stay up so late.

I wish I weren't like the proverbial bhusyaha kukkur, the stray mutt who has no employment, and who is also without any leisure.

Look at the blogroll: I have included Nepalikukur, Rabi Thapa's blog, there.

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