Aug 03
The majority of non-fiction books are historical: the focus is usually on “proper” history (wars, economic cycles, biographies) or at the very least, the narrative employs past events as evidence in an argument. The past plays a huge role in the way we understand things – we know from experience that touching hot stoves is a no-no or how to swing a tennis racquet to get the right amount of topspin to confound your opponent. Even more telling is how much of our present station in life is determined by past decisions and/or events. Your academic pursuit and interests were sparked by some inspiring high school teacher, the job interview offered because of past successes with previous employers, your support of the local sports team because your parents or grandparents chose that particular city to have a family.
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Nov 02
I find myself reflecting on one of my favourite seminars at McGill – History and Memory. Unfortunately, I seem to have misplaced my notes, so it’s apt that I’m pulling the cobwebs to remind myself of the power of memory and how it impacts our study and understanding of history. About how our individual and collective recognition of events distorts or perhaps improves the truth. About how we selectively censor specific happenings, or inflate the importance of others.
Remember, remember the fifth of November – the little ditty once used to “celebrate” the failed efforts of home-grown religious-fueled terrorism will have its meaning modified in 2008, where one man could wake up with the satisfaction of changing the legacy of the 43 individuals before him. Will this date be marked in the annals of our own memory? Where we were when Kennedy was shot, when Canada won hockey gold? Will some iconic image resonate so deeply as it did on 9/11, when the Berlin Wall crumbled, at Tiananmen?
And if a specific individual does win, I have the suspicion that the porcelain mask of Fawkes might become more en vogue as a form of protest, especially if people had the notion reenact a certain scene only found in the movie adaptation of V for Vendetta. The parallels drawn between Alan Moore’s original story (itself a reflection of Thatcher’s policies) and today’s world are a stretch at best, but no doubt the sentiment and attraction for anarchy will be sown, especially if this election is suspected of being stolen.
Regardless of who wins, my only hope is for record turnout at the polls come Tuesday. It can’t get any worse than the pathetic showing we had here only a few weeks back! Oh, and the only other thing I wish for is that the winner does not play this as a victory song. Please?
Jan 08
It seems somewhat appropriate that humankind’s mortality and gluttony meet face to face in that last stronghold of brutality and barbarism in a civilized democracy – capital punishment. A final drag on a cigarette, as the shackled
revolutionary defiantly stares down raised barrels, or the opportunity to etch one’s place in the annals of history with a cutting barb à la Marx (“Go on, get out. Last words are for fools who haven’t said enough.”), it’s the final countdown to placate our ever-hungry never-satisfied appetites.
Whether or not you agree with the sanctioned extermination of a human being’s life, we all havea certain morbid curiosity with what tastes grace the palates of death row inmates, and if this list is any indication, plain and simple seems to be the trend.
Which makes My Last Supper such an enlightening peek into the minds of celebrity chefs. Multi-course exotic feasts juxtaposed against mother’s home cooked meals – it seems even these culinary masters are divergent when it comes to gustation – go figure. As one victim astutely points out, you really have only two choices: “to have a meal you’ve never had before, or to relive a meal you’ve already experienced.”
In his introduction, Anthony Bourdain sheds light on why the last supper (not that one!) enthrals the mind of the cuisin-artist:
“If cooking professionally is about control – about manipulating the people, the ingredients, and the strange, physical forces of the kitchen universe to do one’s bidding; always anticipating, always preparing, always dominating one’s environment – then eating well is about submission. About letting go.”
Extreme sports enthusiasts will say that’s the reason they attempt insane skiing stunts at the top of mountains, flying over ancient Chinese battlements, or facing certain doom with a well pressed shirt. Death, that ultimate finality, the stamp on our passport that seals our fate, is the ultimate thrill ride. Or at least the threat of it…
For who among us are ready to take that final shuffle off this mortal coil? Suicidal readers need not raise your hands… Are you ready to look the grim reaper in the eye, take one sweet last breath and step into the light? Death is what defines our life – we are truly remembered by our peers when we are long gone, and they sit around a blazing fire, making toast in our honour. The king is dead, long live the king…
So what about my last supper? That menu has yet to be composed, but when the time comes, your place will be reserved.
