Saturday, March 15, 2008

Short Film,
Here's a short film I just shot for a contest called the DV Challenge. Enjoy (If you can).


Thursday, March 06, 2008


I call this "Four Generations."

Monday, March 03, 2008


Perhaps I need to re-name this blog Iskander's Whinings, 'cause I'm about to post another, rather cynical entry. This time, my target is Yoga. Yes, Yoga. I think this line of thought started yesterday during a viewing of You've Got Mail, where Tom Hanks opines that Starbuck's popularity is actually due to the following trait:

"The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what the h*** they're doing or who on earth they are, can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self."
Which, I think, hits the nail on the proverbial head. Yoga is also up there with this sort of thing. I know that, like television, there are probably a thousand and one legitimate and wonderful reasons to do Yoga, but lets be honest for a minute. One of the defining aesthetics of this stuff is the whole image of someone in their "health clothes," (that's my term for the loose, white tank-tops and weird, thin-fabric trousers that anorexic women wear on the cover of magazines about "your health") doing yoga into the rising or setting sun in some isolated, but ruggedly beautiful place wherein none dwell who have not been there for eons untold: The rocks, the lichens, a family of lizards and probably a Kokopeli man playing his blasted flute. Refer to the included, plagiarized picture for reference. That took about 1.5 seconds of googling "yoga."
Have you ever had a conversation with someone who was out to prove how smart they are? It can be frustrating because the conversation isn't actually about whatever subject-matter you're attempting to cover.
Writing a book could also fall into this category. I wrote a book. It's nothing I'll be expecting a Newberry award for, but I liked it and I'd like to see it published, so I still send it off to publishers and agents. On the rare occasions this happens to come up in conversation, the universal response that I receive is "Oh, I'd like to write a book. It would be about______." For some reason, our society seems to award some sort of credit for completely unfulfilled good intentions.
Having lived in Ireland for a time, I found that a lot of the young people would identify themselves as "Buddhist," but had absolutely no idea what a buddhist believes. I think this arose out of a deep-seated need to be different and unique. Identifying yourself as something so traditionally uncommon in Ireland was certainly much easier than standing out by being an exemplary employee, or by working hard to hone some talent or craft.
In short, it's sometimes easier to have a difference than to be different, it's easier to act smart than to be wise, it's easier to want to write a book than to sit down and write one and it's easier to sit in some forbidden position on a rock than to actually make a stab at becoming a genuine naturalist. I should say that I have no problem, per se, with exercise or yoga, I simply find pretense annoying. I'm probably as guilty as the next man, but living inside of myself makes that difficult to see, so I still feel like whining about it.