Saturday, 22 March 2008
Mouthwash
This is my face
Covered in freckles
With the occasional spot
And some veins
This is my body
Covered in skin
And not all of it
You can see
And, this, is my mind
It goes over and over
The same old lines
And, this, is my brain
It's torturous analytical thoughts
Make me go insane
And I use mouthwash
Sometimes I floss
I've got a family
And I drink cups of tea
I've got nostalgic pavements
I've got familiar faces
I've got mixed-up memories
And I've got favourite places
And I'm singing "oh oh" on a Friday night
And I'm singing "oh oh" on a Friday night
And I'm singing "oh oh" on a Friday night
And I hope everything's gonna be alright
And I'm singing "oh oh" on a Friday night
And I hope everything's gonna be alright
This is my face
I've got a thousand opinions
And I've got time and time to explain
And this is my body
And no matter how you try and disable it
Yes I'll still be here
And, this, is my mind
And although you try to infringe
You cannot confine
And, this, is my brain
And even if you try and hold me back
There's nothing that you can gain
'Cause I use mouthwash
Sometimes I floss
I've got a family
And I drink cups of tea
I've got nostalgic pavements
I've got familiar faces
I've got mixed-up memories
And I've got favourite places
I'm singing "oh oh" on a Friday night
And I'm singing "oh oh" on a Friday night
And I'm singing "oh oh" on a Friday night
And I hope everything's gonna be alright
And I'm singing "oh oh" on a Friday night
And I hope everything's gonna be alright
Oh oh oh oh oh oh:
"’Mouthwash' is bit of a protest song that comes from the confusion of youth. I guess it's about not quite being there yet. About not feeling totally sure where you are going but still feeling the need to defend all the things that make you into who you are. We all have routines and things in common, that still somehow manage to be totally unique and personal to you." Kate Nash
I love songs which are unabashedly self-revelatory. This is a great song by Kate Nash, about searching for the essence of self and finding a deep core of strength in the myriad, mundane things we do, which on their own are inane and trite, but together create something unique. The song's lyrics seem jokily meaningless, but I think there's something really powerful about the image of a young girl feeling under attack ('even if you try to hold me back, there's nothing you can gain') and gaining the realisation that these little things we do make up the the story which we write.
For me this is an adolescent version of the idea that it's all invented - that we should take strength from the inanity of life, that we can write our own story, and that we don't have to be bit-parts in someone else's story, but rather enjoy the possibilities of our own - mind, body, brain, mouthwash, cups of tea, nostalgic pavements, mixed-up memories, and favourite places.
Personally I find more truth in pop than philosophy, but that's probably just 'cos Kierkegaard never owned a bass guitar. It also may be because I have a short attention span.
Mr Gruber, Mr Curry, and The Art(lessness) of Possibility
Paddington Bear celebrates his fiftieth birthday this week, which is also the week that I've been reading Ben and Roz Zander's The Art of Possibility.
Paddington Bear, of course, comes from deepest darkest Peru, and arrived in England with a suitcase full of marmalade sandwiches, and a sign around his neck stating, 'Please look after this bear, thank you'.
Paddington has an endless capacity for getting into trouble, but is unfailingly polite, good natured, and always tries his best. He also has an insatiable curiosity for life. And, of course, a passion for marmalade sandwiches. Paddington sails a wide-eyed voyage of possibility and curiosity in his adventures. In his naivity he is less the Art of Possibility, but rather the Artlessness of Possibility. Do we see possibility in life, or do we see ourselves boxed in by our assumptions, conventions, and fears? The varying ways in which those around Paddington respond to him give us different illustrations of how we can embrace or reject a world of possibility.
After being found at Paddington Station, and adopted by the Brown family, Paddington moved in with Mr & Mrs Brown, Jonathan and Judy, and their housekeeper, Mrs Bird. Alongside his place in the Brown family, Paddington's major relationships are with two men, Mr Curry and Mr Gruber, and the respective reactions of these two men to his enthusiasms illustrate very different attitudes to the possibility of change and discovery.
Mr Curry is the Brown's next-door-neighbour. He is a grouch, a loner, who reacts to Paddington's plans and adventures with negativity and anger. He reacts defensively and negatively to everything which Paddington does, and, inevitably, the consequences of Paddington's actions end up by meeting his expectations - causing a further downward spiralling. He is the calculating self, viewing life as a battle, plotting to win, and becoming more entrenched each time that he calculates that he has 'lost'. He tries to control people and circumstances, and reacts to conflict by becoming more hard-headed and obstinate, and closing himself even more to the possibility of a life beyond the tyrrany of the binary win/loss calculation.
Mr Gruber is an elderly Hungarian immigrant, who runs an antique shop on the Portobello Road, and becomes Paddington's best friend. He takes him on expeditions to the auction house, Tower of London, and to a museum. They spend their time together at Mr Gruber's shop, sharing 'elevenses' whilst Mr Gruber encourages Paddington in his curiosity, and entertains and educates him with his stories. In view of his past, it seems reasonable to assume that Mr Gruber has seen horrors, has experienced loss, and has been exposed to evil. But his passion for life remains undimmed, and he sees opportunity, possibility, hope, in Paddington. And he doesn't take himself too damn seriously to prevent him befriending a bear from Peru who wears wellingtons and keeps marmalade sandwiches under his hat. This is the central self - generous, creative, expressive, 'stay[ing] open to influence, to the new and the unknown'.
The irony of the fates of Mr Gruber and Mr Curry is that Mr Curry, the calculating, controling, selfish-natured, always ends up losing exactly that which he seeks to defend, constructing himself as the victim of Paddington's escapades. Whereas Mr Gruber, the open, generous friend who embraces Paddington's chaos, is never the victim of his misadventures, but somehow is saved from disaster, and is rewarded for his selflessness. But of course the difference is not a question of who wins or loses, but of how they react to the art of possibility.
Paddington Bear, of course, comes from deepest darkest Peru, and arrived in England with a suitcase full of marmalade sandwiches, and a sign around his neck stating, 'Please look after this bear, thank you'.
Paddington has an endless capacity for getting into trouble, but is unfailingly polite, good natured, and always tries his best. He also has an insatiable curiosity for life. And, of course, a passion for marmalade sandwiches. Paddington sails a wide-eyed voyage of possibility and curiosity in his adventures. In his naivity he is less the Art of Possibility, but rather the Artlessness of Possibility. Do we see possibility in life, or do we see ourselves boxed in by our assumptions, conventions, and fears? The varying ways in which those around Paddington respond to him give us different illustrations of how we can embrace or reject a world of possibility.
After being found at Paddington Station, and adopted by the Brown family, Paddington moved in with Mr & Mrs Brown, Jonathan and Judy, and their housekeeper, Mrs Bird. Alongside his place in the Brown family, Paddington's major relationships are with two men, Mr Curry and Mr Gruber, and the respective reactions of these two men to his enthusiasms illustrate very different attitudes to the possibility of change and discovery.
Mr Curry is the Brown's next-door-neighbour. He is a grouch, a loner, who reacts to Paddington's plans and adventures with negativity and anger. He reacts defensively and negatively to everything which Paddington does, and, inevitably, the consequences of Paddington's actions end up by meeting his expectations - causing a further downward spiralling. He is the calculating self, viewing life as a battle, plotting to win, and becoming more entrenched each time that he calculates that he has 'lost'. He tries to control people and circumstances, and reacts to conflict by becoming more hard-headed and obstinate, and closing himself even more to the possibility of a life beyond the tyrrany of the binary win/loss calculation.
Mr Gruber is an elderly Hungarian immigrant, who runs an antique shop on the Portobello Road, and becomes Paddington's best friend. He takes him on expeditions to the auction house, Tower of London, and to a museum. They spend their time together at Mr Gruber's shop, sharing 'elevenses' whilst Mr Gruber encourages Paddington in his curiosity, and entertains and educates him with his stories. In view of his past, it seems reasonable to assume that Mr Gruber has seen horrors, has experienced loss, and has been exposed to evil. But his passion for life remains undimmed, and he sees opportunity, possibility, hope, in Paddington. And he doesn't take himself too damn seriously to prevent him befriending a bear from Peru who wears wellingtons and keeps marmalade sandwiches under his hat. This is the central self - generous, creative, expressive, 'stay[ing] open to influence, to the new and the unknown'.
The irony of the fates of Mr Gruber and Mr Curry is that Mr Curry, the calculating, controling, selfish-natured, always ends up losing exactly that which he seeks to defend, constructing himself as the victim of Paddington's escapades. Whereas Mr Gruber, the open, generous friend who embraces Paddington's chaos, is never the victim of his misadventures, but somehow is saved from disaster, and is rewarded for his selflessness. But of course the difference is not a question of who wins or loses, but of how they react to the art of possibility.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)