Lunes, Pebrero 3, 2014

"Kurt would have been shocked by the lasting impact he's made." -Dave Grohl

Kurt Donald Cobain was the leader of Nirvana, the multi-platinum grunge band that redefined the sound of the nineties.

Cobain was born on the 20th of February 1967 in Hoquaim, a small town 140 kilometres south-west of Seattle. His mother was a cocktail waitress and his father was an auto mechanic. Cobain soon moved to nearby Aberdeen, a depressed and dying logging town.

(img:http://img.mi9.com/male-celebrities/5108/kurt-cobain-kurt-cobain_1600x1200_98239.jpg)

Cobain was for most his childhood a sickly bronchitic child. Matters were made worse when Cobain's parent's divorced when he was seven and by his own account Cobain said he never felt loved or secure again. He became increasingly difficult, anti-social and withdrawn after his parent's divorce. Cobain also said that his parent's traumatic split fueled a lot of the anguish in Nirvana's music.

After his parent's divorce Cobain found himself shuttled back and forth between various relatives and at one stage homeless living under a bridge.

When Cobain was eleven he heard and was captivated by the Britain's Sex Pistols and after their self-destruction Cobain and friend Krist Novoselic continued to listen to the wave of British bands including Joy Division the nihilistic post-punk band that some say Nirvana are directly descended from in form of mood, melody and lyrical quality.

Cobain's artistry and iconoclastic attitude didn't win many friends in high school and sometimes earned him beatings from "jocks" Cobain got even by spray painting "QUEER" on their pick-up trucks. By 1985 Aberdeen was dead and Cobain's next stop was Olympia. Cobain formed and reformed a series of bands before Nirvana came to be in 1986. Nirvana was an uneasy alliance between Cobain, bassist Krist Novoselic and eventually drummer and multi-instrumentalist Dave Grohl

By 1988 Nirvana were doing shows and had demo tapes going around. In 1989 Nirvana recorded their rough-edged first album Bleach for local Seattle independent label Sub-Pop

In Britain Nirvana received a lot of recognition and in 1991 their contract was bought out by Geffen, they signed to the mega-label, the first non-mainstream band to do so. Two and a half years after Nirvana's first C.D. Bleach was released they released Nevermind, a series of different, crunching, screaming songs that along with it's first single Smells Like Teen Spirit would propel Nirvana to mainstream stardom.

Smells Like Teen Spirit became Nirvana's most highly acclaimed and instantly recognizable song. Not many people can decipher it's exact lyrics but Cobain used a seductive hookline to hook the listener. Nevermind went on to sell ten million copies and make a reported $550 million (US) leaving Nirvana overnight millionaires. Cobain was shocked at the reception of his highly personal and passionate music repeatedly telling reporters that none of the band ever, ever expected anything like this. It quickly became obvious that the obsessively sickly and sensitive 24yr old was not going to cope well with the rock'n roll lifestyle. "If there was a rock star 101 course, I'd really have like to take it," Cobain once observed. Cobain fell into heroin in the early 90's, he said he used it as a shield against the rigorous demands of touring and to stop the pain of stomach ulcers or an irritated bowel. Through the touring and pressure Cobain continued to write his very personal acutely focused lyrics.

Cobain was distressed to find out that what he wrote and how it was interpreted could quite often be miles apart. He was appalled when he found out that Polly a heavily ironic anti-rape song had been used as background music in a real gang-rape. He later appealed to fans on the Incesticide liner notes "If any of you don't like gays or women or blacks, please leave us the fuck alone." It was to no avail, Cobain found that as an overnight millionaire musician control was something he had very little of. Cobain also worried that his band had sold-out, that it was attracting the wrong kind of fans (i.e the type that used to beat him up.)


In February 1992 Cobain skipped off to Hawaii to marry the already pregnant Courtney Love. Later in the year Nirvana released Incesticide and in August Cobain had hospital treatment for heroin abuse. Shortly after Frances Bean Cobain was born. In early 1993 In Utero was released into the top spot on the music charts. In Utero was widely acclaimed by the music press and it contains some of Cobain's most passionate work. In Utero was a lot more open than Nirvana's previous albums. Songs like All Apologies and Heart Shaped Box detailed aspects of Cobain's sometimes shaky marriage, other songs like Scentless Apprentice detailed the agonies and struggles of Cobain's experiences.

Nirvana embarked on a support tour and recorded and filmed an "unplugged" (acoustic) performance for MTV in November of 1993. Nirvana's choice to honour bands and people that had influenced them and Cobain's passionate and intense vocals especially on "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?"silenced many of their who had labeled Cobain talentless. Rumors circulated that the MTV Unplugged compilation would be Nirvana's last album and the band were splitting up.

Cobain was a gun fanatic and always had several in his possession or in various forms of confiscation. In the northern winter of 1993-94 Nirvana embarked on an extensive European tour. Twenty concerts into the tour Cobain developed throat problems and their schedule was interrupted while he recovered. While recovering Cobain flew to Rome to join his wife who was also preparing to tour with her own band.

On March the 4th Cobain was rushed to hospital in a coma after an unsuccessful suicide bid in which he washed down about fifty prescription painkillers with champagne. The suicide bid was officially called an accident and was not even made known to close friends and associates. Several days later he returned to Seattle. Cobain's wife, friends and managers convinced Cobain, who was still in deep distress to enter a detox program in L.A. According to a missing person's report filed by his mother Cobain fled after only a few days of the program.

Cobain's hospital form 
(img:http://www.julienslive.com/images/lot/1012/101206_0.jpg)

Cobain was cited in the Seattle area with a shotgun. Days later on the 5th of April he barricaded himself into the granny flat behind his mansion, put a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. On Thursday April the 7th ~ two days after a medical examiner says Cobain shot himself and the day before his body was found police say Courtney Love herself was taken to hospital in L.A. for a drug overdose. Released on bail, Love checked herself into a rehab center but left soon after a friend called her the next day with news of Cobain's death.

Cobain's body was found when an electrician visiting the house to install a security system went round the back of the house when no one answered the front door and peered through windows. He thought he saw a mannequin sprawled on the floor until he noticed a splotch of blood by Cobain's ear. When police broke down the door they found Cobain dead on the floor, a shotgun still pointed at his chin and on a nearby counter a suicide note written in red ink addressed to Love and the couples then 19 month old daughter Frances Bean.

such a shame. (img:http://1.bp.blogspot.com/
-3lf-hpH51NU/TyHAylANR7I/AAAAAAAAAJY/6zLAbOHp5rY/s1600/kurt-cobain-death-mikegamms-2.jpg)

The suicide note ended with the words "I love you, I love you." Two days after Kurt Cobain's body was found about 5,000 people gathered in Seattle for a candlelight vigil. the distraught crowd filled the air with profane chants, burnt their flannel shirts and fought with police. They also listened to a tape made by Cobain's wife in which she read from his suicide note. Several distressed teenagers in the U.S. and Australia killed themselves. The mainstream media was lambasted for it's lack of respect and understanding of youth culture.

 one of his more famous quotes. 

The Goldfish Bowl


(img:http://www.cityofevanston.org/news/assets/kid%20and%20fish%20bowl.jpg)

From birth to death we inhabit a world we hardly understand save in terms of it's appearances. yet we try to explain it away , and come up with a myriad theories which only scratch the surface . these offer us the illusion that we understand ourselves and existence.

(img:http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2012/185/9/7/wishful_thinking_by_ineedchemicalx-d55wzw9.jpg)

Such theories may offer us comfort , but we don't even know what "mind" is . some people even use their minds to deny that mind exists . Others seek signs and wonders as proof of the extraordinary , even though the ordinary is extraordinary enough . that we wake up out of the nightly little death called sleep , go to work , eat , plan our lives as best as we can , fall in and out of love , grow old and die - what a weird and wonderful process! How was it designed and why? How could we be talking about design when we don't even know who designed ? how could we , the created , discuss the ways and nature of existence had not some inner or other force created the capacity within us ?

Which begs the question : what are we here FOR?

(img:http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B3Z4vW4b0gk/TuDWVHOEQ_I
/AAAAAAAABHw/p8qd9q3Kwgk/s400/why%2Bphilosophy.jpg)

Perhaps we're frontier colonists of the material world , part of mind's drive to extend consciousness into ever denser , more individual realms . for since time immemorial and in every culture many have felt that this lovely , yet terrible world is not our true home ; that we have forgotten our origin ; and that we're like GOLDFISH UNABLE TO IMAGINE a universe beyond he bowl , as if water is the only medium we know . to extend the metaphor , or fable : rational goldfish , on the evidence of their senses, deride theories positing the existence of air -- especially if their the top goldfish . they've got it made , and don't want any change in the bowl , unless they control it . mystical goldfish , with weird notions about an invisible otherworldly medium , air , are obviously fantasists .

Then one day , a finger from above stirs the bowl . Inexplicable ripples result . Mystic goldfish report visions of the fish that swims in the air . the top goldfish , fearing loss of prestige and authority, say nothing happened . it was collective hallucination , they say . Anyone talking about it will be punished ,even thrown out of the bowl into the vast unknown . yet the threats , derision and "scientific proof" that the bowl is all whispering of a miracle , of a world beyond . none of the goldfish know what really happened , but before long distorted memory and reports of the alleged event begin to create a new belief system that threatens to turn the bowl upside down .

The human finger that stirred the water in the bowl may have been that of a child . The event may have been casual . perhaps it lasted inly two or three seconds , in human terms . But in goldfish terms, the entire society is destabilized . in goldfish terms , centuries pass . new religions emerge , New social movements . . . new philosophies .


" Come away from the bowl , dear . Leave the fish alone ."
" But i was only playing . I wanted to talk to them . "

 didn't think a goldfish could blow your mind, did you? (img:
http://www.libraryforsales.com/Graphics/inspirational-stories/goldfish_bowl.jpg)

Three Hours

Three hours.
That was an hour and half ago when I decided to face a clean sheet of paper with fists clenched to my left temple. Now its 10:30 pm. Pen in hand, ink is smudging where the pen meets my sweaty palms. All I have are scribbles and creepy doodles, reflecting my mindset, it’s not even urgent let alone important but I’m panicking over little things. Its 2 hours till february, 11 hours till my self-imposed deadline on my essay, an estimated 10 seconds before I gulp down this scalding hot cup of creamy latte, and about 63 years left of my existence. And that’s about an hour of thinking gone to waste. Hooray.

(img:http://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/genieCheerleader_963.png)


I know this is my specialty, or at least a few of the little things I’m ACTUALLY good at. But damn, 3 cups down, two sticks left in this pack of ten’s, and an hour to go I still don’t have anything in mind. Looking up at the sky hoping the famed red Marlboro would swoop in with it’s dashing cowboy hat and give me a loyalty award, (oh red Marlboro I’ve been so loyal to you since my pubescence!) 

death in another form. (img:
http://timeentertainment.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/fictioninfluence_poll_marlboroman.jpg?w=260)


I’m counting down till my usual bedtime, adequately calculated so I get enough sleep and still go to school punctually. Given it’d occur to me to be actually punctual.
Actually It has, like a whispering voice with a good intent along with all the “other” voices amidst my hazily chaotic consciousness, I heed it but not with the appropriate actions concerned with it. And I am not crazy, mind you, for hearing these voices in my head. For like the whispering voices you see in cartoons, there is the angel, with its yellow halo, gentle blonde locks complimenting its innocent face, cute white robe and wings, contrasted by the striking, shining, golden harp by its left hand. And then there’s the devil, with its oversized fork and sly goateed red face, and black locks giving way to its grisly yet petite horns.

WOW. no wonder i'm this chaotic. (img:
http://www.postcardsfromapeacefuldivorce.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/Angel-vs-Devil.jpg)


Of course with my current predicament, you could hastily conclude I’d been listening to the other voice. In a man’s life, it is not wise a decision to be on a state of frequent ambivalence nor is it to tread on a certain path lazily. Hence, you could say, me choosing my current path and listening to the voice of my uncertainty was not the best conclusion I’ve come up with so far.
            I admit too, waking up so late I end up not eating breakfast just to attend a class, not to mention classes attended an hour late and even ending up not showing up for class at all. Paper works and projects past deadlines, last minute cramming, and just being uneventful and inattentive for that matter.
            But, the feeling of teetering on the edge of utter failure and success, I owe to my numerous beliefs, some of which I’d happily share, to be precise a saying: “Sin is honoring desire above what you know is right. But never forget to seek and see the marvels around you, you will get tired of self-concerns, and that fatigue will make you deaf and blind to everything else.”
The clock ticks twelve and I’m out of ideas. Although what I’ve presented you is just a random mess of thoughts not even probable for a resume (with thoughts only subjecting me to a role of a miscreant imbecile) I still feel it’s good, (good to look at atleast) and maybe I can alike it to a doodle. It maybe a mess, but well, it’s nice to look at(and in this case, read).
 Symbolically, I feel like I have come to an end to my rant as I proceed to put a period on my final sentence, counting the words exceeding 500. Also counting, It’s a few months past me reaching my legal age, it’s the second month of a new year and time sure isn’t gonna slow down. Maybe try and be responsible already.


Maybe decrease procrastination, the negative things and all that stuff.
        

        Yet, as I walk irksomely with arms sagged towards the bed, I notice with my fatigued eyes my hands dirty, mostly with ink. At the same time I say to myself: “I’ve got to start with the small things” But, then again, I grin euphorically “maybe some other time”. 

"Now that's a combination" -Iggy Pop (img:
http://www.mydiscountcigarette.net/gallery/default/original/13510/coffee-and-cigarettes.jpg?1303112216)

That Festive Mood

January 30, 2014. From what unknown thoughts, i start to recall our past Christmas celebration, maybe because i had real fun to the point i forgot my class schedules upon coming back to school. Or maybe another celebration is imminent with the coming of the Lunar New Year, causing me to come up with related thoughts. Anyways..
December 24, 2013. I woke up 8am one morning groggily to the tune of jingle bells playing on the stereo. To the realization that time is hastily flying away, I realize it is already the morning of December 24 and with the feeling of cheerfulness in the air I set out of my room to happily greet everyone in the house a good morning with a big smile on my face. Almost everyone’s here, my 2 brothers are talking to each other along with their spouses, with my 2 little nephews running about the house toppling stuff and playing with the dogs. My little sister is holding my niece almost gobbling the little lass up with kisses. At 8 months old, she looks ready to cry of annoyance. I pinch her pinkish puffed cheeks and UWAAAAH! Oops!
yeah, sorry about that.
I just love the holidays. No classes, everyone’s having a sense of optimism within them and the streets are full of people rushing about with their Christmas shopping. Tatay is out picking up the pre-ordered cakes, ice creams and what not for later and upon entering the kitchen, to my surprise Nanay is already defrosting and preparing what we’re about to eat. She hastily asks me to help and turns out we’ll be having our Noche Buena quite early this time and we’ll be filling our stomachs to the brim not at midnight but at lunch.
FOOD? WHERE!

            The reason she says is that my brothers will be spending the night at their in-laws and at midnight if we’d ever celebrate it’d only be the four of us, father, mother, me and my little sister. And it would be a pretty lonely sight she said. I agree with a tear as I chop up the onions. Nanay laughs, “stop messing around and get to it!”.
            We will be having lechon kawali, pata tim, seafood pasta, the usual ham and fruit salad and a chocolate chip banana cake. Yum!  Everybody dives in hurriedly and I whisper to my little 3 year old nephew gobbling up the lot “man, I cook so good!” he retorts” Nge! You only chopped stuff up!” everybody laughs! How cute. I could just tear his face up and stuff it in a gift box.
            Minutes later, there goes the little rascal tearing up the gifts under the Christmas tree. The older nephew screams “Hey! That’s not for you!” while he also tears a gift that’s not for him. I laugh at the sight as I set up the tripod for the camcorder. Sigh, it’s pretty hot in here. I wipe my forehead full of big drops of sweat as I recall the previous years where we videotaped the opening of the gifts and this year’s the same, except only a little earlier, and oh! Tatay’s bringing out a bundle of crisp 50 peso bills. If you could only see the grin on my face, Ha-ha.
I present, the TRUE essence of christmas. joke. haha (image courtesy of:
http://www.philippinecountry.com/philippine_money/New_PHP50.jpg)

            A Christmas song plays on the speakers as Nanay and Tatay with Santa hats speak on the microphones our designated gifts. Everybody’s happy. But, amidst the festive mood it dawns upon me the imminent haste of the passing time. Tatay is growing old, he had a stroke many years ago. He’s 54 now and it really is showing,  it’s the same with Nanay, earlier that month she was diagnosed with small developing lymph nodes in her neck. They’re both on maintenance medications now and that realization just got worse as I remember the first time we don’t get to celebrate Christmas at midnight, together.
            CHAMP! This one’s for you” Says Tatay on the microphone. Dazed, I find everybody laughing loudly. To my shock I find myself sitting in father’s lap absent-mindedly. I get up real fast and Tatay says “you’re not a kid anymore you know, and you’re pretty heavy to be sitting on my lap like you used to, after all these years.”

He hands me 4 of the crisp brand new 50 peso bills and I sit at a chair opening my gift. Jokingly they put a pair of my old tattered shorts and slippers I’ve been dying to replace in place of the new ones. And the room is filled with laughter yet again. The festive mood once again spurs in me the thought that there is really nothing to be sad about, and all of this, the laughter, the happiness coexisting with the sadness, is just natural to the passing of time. A big smile appears on my face as a lone tear mixing with a bead of sweat rolls down my cheeks. Man, it really is hot in here.
The FEELS man. (image courtesy of:
http://cdn.uproxx.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/pinkman-crying.gif)