Friday, April 27, 2012

Breaking The First Rule - Let's Talk About Fight Club

In everyone's life there are a couple of life changing experiences brought on through media. I've had a couple of my own, through music - my first hearing of Tubular Bells, television - as I lay in a hospital bed and experienced Band of Brothers, literature - Chronicles of Narnia, and film.

Film is where this post comes in. There are movies which have gripped us, thrilled us and ripped us to emotional shreds over the years. Personally it's been movies such as Ned Kelly, Instinct and The Matrix.
None have affected me quite so much as Fight Club though. It's cynical, it's gritty, it's smart and it's bloody entertaining.

Our unnamed 'hero' (psychotically played by Edward Norton) has reached the bottom of the pile, an insomniac, he starts attending support groups to release his emotions and find some peace. All this is interrupted by the intrusion on Marla Singer; a live-fast-die-young harlot played by who else other than Helena Bonham Carter. Our hero's life is completely thrown into chaos by the explosion of his apartment, upon which he decides to move in with a sociopath soap merchant he met by chance on a plane journey. This man is Tyler Durden. This man is anarchy incarnate. This man is portrayed by Brad Pitt in a role which should have gotten him an Oscar. Tyler teaches a new way of life to our man and soon all hell breaks lose after they form an underground club in which they beat the living hell out of each other and plenty of willing participants in testosterone fueled battles of primal fury. But this is not a movie about a fight club, it is so much more.



This is a movie about abandoning the system, starting your own, and screwing the rules to do what you see fit to form your Utopia. It is incredibly smart too, you simply will not see the twist coming until it's too late, by then it's a whole new movie. It will provoke a deep passion in you, it will stir you, it will thrill you, it will challenge you, it will educate you, it will entertain you. Fight Club has it all. And trust me, without it, you can't really be sure whether you have anything yourself.

You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.

 It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

Over and out.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

F.C.J. Orchestra - End of an Era

On Friday the 13th (true story), an era came to an end in F.C.J.; the last students to have bared witness to the manic genius that was Mr. Gearoid Grant played their final concert in the uniform of questionably green taste.

The concert was undoubtedly our best performance, not necessarily for the orchestra, but for the several side projects put together entirely by us the students, such as the fantastic Choral Group; singing Dog Days by Florence & The Machine, which was put together by the magnificently talented Hannah Deacon. (Bonus points for us learning that song in 2 hours the day before surely?)
Next up was the Jazz Group, arranged and sort of conducted by Chris Redmond, with our 'alternate' interpretation of Nina Simone's Feelin' Good. A (small) mention for the Trad Group too I suppose.

But this night wasn't really about the performance, this night was about the 6th years, who shall soon be departing and separating. I have the pleasure of truthfully saying I got to spend 6 years with a group of outstandingly talented and versatile people, I've beheld rip-roaring sax groups, hauntingly beautiful Irish airs and had some amazing jam sessions with the Drum and Bass section. It was never always about the music though, it was about the time spent together and the laughs we shared on those weekday evenings.

We were a group of distinct people in those far off days of first year, but heralded into a small music room by the chaos incarnate Grant, we soon melded together for fear of him singling us out, we were the last of such groups to be hazed in his amazing way, I pity the next couple of year groups behind us, they never had that shared experience, they appear worse off for it.


We went halfway across the world with each other and not a bad thought was shared between us, we're one great big, slightly weird, family. We took America by storm (okay maybe a strong breeze), but it was our time together there that made the trip, that picture on Time Square, Bohemian Rhapsody on the bus, Paul the bus driver. The memories will live forever.

So I guess this is a lament, a eulogy, a goodbye, we may never share the performing stage as a group together, but I hope though we go our separate ways we may always be a special group on that ever changing stage of life. I'll miss you guys.

Over and out.

Monday, April 16, 2012

The Way Of Shadows - Book Review

Have decided to post this to distract myself from my thoughts. Might as well be useful for something I suppose.

Quick update on my current situation:
Leaving Certificate Exams approaching in 6 weeks, should be studying.
Relationship status is single, despite my very very very best efforts.
Just played the biggest concert of my life last week with my orchestra, jazz band and choral group.

Anyway, I've literally only decided I'm going to do a book review half way through writing this. This should be good (I always was known for my amazing planning skills).

Put simply, The Night Angel Trilogy is my favourite collection of books, bar only Harry Potter. They are simply unputtdownable, and I hope you understand that that statement is not an exaggeration, these books (doorstoppers all three of them) have kept me up until the wee hours of the morning have long faded.

And here's why: Though yes, they provide plenty of action and violence, the primary purpose of this series is an examination of human morality, mortality, faith, and the limits to which one can be pushed to ultimately do the right thing.


Here I will reviewing the first book in the series; The Way Of Shadows.

The action takes place entirely in  Cenaria City, a cesspool of thievery and whoring in the the fantasy world of Mid-Cyru. The city's poor have been confined to the ghetto like warrens and every child faces a battle for survival as they live among the violent and self-destructive child gangs that roam the streets.

Orphaned Azoth is one of these gutter-children, 11 years old and having never seen his parents, as he digs through the mud to find coins to pay his protection fees and avoid a beating, he spots the legendary wetboy (magical super-assassin) Durzo Blint above him, a man without fear, without worry, without desperation. Azoth vows to become Blint's apprentice and be like him, to lose his his caring.

Spoilerific circumstances come to pass and Azoth is reincarnated into Durzo's apprentice, Kylar Stern. Politics, treachery, love and intrigue ensue as he learns his new lethal trade, until his ultimate test comes and he must face his most deadly enemy.

The violent action flows as seamlessly as it should, if there's one thing Weeks can most definitely orchestrate it is description of the fine art of murder as Kylar leaves a trail of corpses behind him on the way to justice, the movements seem natural, the dialogue can be jarringly vulgar at times, but suits the situations, and the relationships developed (except for one in particular) are highly thought out and only serve to highlight the authors main themes of morality further.

I'd firmly recommend this book for any fans of Batman, Assassin's Creed or The Black Magician Trilogy. It reads at a rip roaring pace and has a character for everyone to connect to, passing through the entire spectrum from Lawful Good to Chaotic Evil. You're heart will be in your throat and your blood will surge. This is a must read.


Over and out.