Showing posts from January, 2010


Aati: Even mistakes have to start somewhere.

The Judge

"In matters of sentiment, the public has very crude ideas; and the most shocking fault of women is that they make the public the supreme judge of their lives." Stendhal , Fragments

The Story of Human Rights

The Imperfect Society

There was a time when I thought about what a perfect society should be like; I still do sometimes. Eventually, there were two painful realizations: First, there probably isn't such a thing as a perfect society, even in theory. Second, even if there is, I don't live in one. Wham!! For years I kept thinking over the wrong question, seeking the non-existent Utopia... because it was the easy thing to do. Just hide away from the world, sit alone in your room and work out your own version of a Republic. Convenient. Except you can't hide forever. Sooner or later, no matter how individualistic you may be in ideology, you realize that there are lives attached to you. Sticky organic lives, which you can't tear apart without bleeding yourself. I was suddenly thrown into the whole mess unprepared. What is a guy, whose head is full of potential blueprints for a perfect society, supposed to do when he is forced to live in an imperfect society? Wham!! Suddenly all those 'lesser mo

On Truth: A Discussion with Butters

I recently had a discussion with Butters regarding her views on Truth and epistemology. Butters has posted it in 3 parts on her blog: Part A Part B Part C

The Zeroth Law of Love-dynamics

Aati: If someone can't love you as who you are, then that person can't love you at all, and won't ever.


X: And when i told my parents about her, they were shocked. They weren't exactly shocked that i liked someone, but that how could I be so "stupid" to have become so "serious" about her. It was an awkward moment: knowing that my parents would rather wish me to be a flirt than to be truly in love.

Harris Vs Armstrong

Read here .

Not Poetry and Not Prose

It seems that the only thing defining Art is the intention. If something is intended to be Art, it becomes Art. [A circular definition, some would say.] If so, then there is no such thing as "Not Art", because if that "Not Art" is intended to be Art, it becomes Art. However, same cannot be said about poetry and prose. Controversy also exists regarding what is poetry and what is literature, but there seems to be such a thing as "Not Poetry" and "Not Prose", which indicates a boundary exists even though it may be blurred. "Not Poetry" For instance, the following piece of writing cannot be called "poetry" even if some insane poet intends it to be a poem: "Glaucoma is a disease in which the optic nerve is damaged, leading to progressive, irreversible loss of vision. It is often, but not always, associated with increased pressure of the fluid in the eye." Or this: "dfhedtufj kjygwityr llopmisx" Which is simply g

The Art of Mark Fray

The recent acquisition of Mark Fray's painting "Desire" by Museum of Modern Art in New York has once again raised the controversy among critics about the validity of Fray's work. Kenner, Fray's harshest critic has been reported to say, "If it is art, it is certainly very bad art." Kenner in fact represents the prevalent opinion of Fray among the critic community. However, Fray's work with a significant cult following, refuses to die like a stubborn ghost, and continues to haunt all attempts to define art. Fray was unknown before his suicide in 2004, but just before his death, he sent an email to Steadon, the editor of the magazine Anti-Art , which was in fact his suicide note. The email simply read "Today I am going to die. But I have something you might find valuable" and gave his home address. Steadon read that email the next day and decided to visit him out of curiosity. He was certainly shocked by what he discovered: the dead body of M