Twelve-Inch Pianist
Am holed up in the library today, supposedly doing work but really slacking off and checking my emails and chatting on MSN. Two of my modules are driving me nuts. Coding Theory and Numerical Solutions to Partial Differential Equations. I have, and I am absolutely not exaggerating, no idea what the lecturers are on about, and I take an hour to swot through one line of proofs on my notes, and by that time I get really really fed up and come downstairs to surf on the internet for a few hours. Very very very unhealthy.
I borrowed "The Pianist" yesterday, and tried watching it at night, but stopped after a bit where a mentally unsound old man was dancing in front of the German soldiers, who were laughing and who gave him a bit of money. I knew they were going to shoot him, I just knew it, and I really really didn't want to see it, so I turned it off and burrowed down under my duvet and thought about things.
I can imagine how people get addicted to killing. Even though the Holocaust seems so absurd and unbelievable a thing to have happened, and some people don't even believe that it did, I can understand, not in my mind but in my heart, the reasons behind it. I can imagine the feeling of power you get when the life of another human being rests entirely in your hands, and the rush, the exhilaration of demonstrating that control. I think deep within each of us lies the mind of a killer, which is pretty scary, because I'm a perfectly normal human being (and many would think I'm more of a goody-two-shoes than most), and yet I can put myself into the shoes of a killer. I guess this applies to everyone of us, because I can remember my brother becoming really really freaked out by "Crime and Punishment", as he could totally understand the mind of the killer and the rationale behind his killing somebody old, useless and disliked.
Anyway, on a lighter note, "The Pianist" reminds me of this joke I read somewhere. A man walks into a bar and produces a tiny man from his pocket. He sits him at the piano and the tiny man begins to play a Rachmaninov concerto. Puzzled and amazed, the people around him ask him how he'd met this little man.
"Well, one day I was just sitting in my room bored and alone, and then this fairy appears out of nowhere and tells me I can have anything I want."
"And so you asked for him?"
"Well, I certainly didn't ask for a twelve-inch pianist..."
:o)
I borrowed "The Pianist" yesterday, and tried watching it at night, but stopped after a bit where a mentally unsound old man was dancing in front of the German soldiers, who were laughing and who gave him a bit of money. I knew they were going to shoot him, I just knew it, and I really really didn't want to see it, so I turned it off and burrowed down under my duvet and thought about things.
I can imagine how people get addicted to killing. Even though the Holocaust seems so absurd and unbelievable a thing to have happened, and some people don't even believe that it did, I can understand, not in my mind but in my heart, the reasons behind it. I can imagine the feeling of power you get when the life of another human being rests entirely in your hands, and the rush, the exhilaration of demonstrating that control. I think deep within each of us lies the mind of a killer, which is pretty scary, because I'm a perfectly normal human being (and many would think I'm more of a goody-two-shoes than most), and yet I can put myself into the shoes of a killer. I guess this applies to everyone of us, because I can remember my brother becoming really really freaked out by "Crime and Punishment", as he could totally understand the mind of the killer and the rationale behind his killing somebody old, useless and disliked.
Anyway, on a lighter note, "The Pianist" reminds me of this joke I read somewhere. A man walks into a bar and produces a tiny man from his pocket. He sits him at the piano and the tiny man begins to play a Rachmaninov concerto. Puzzled and amazed, the people around him ask him how he'd met this little man.
"Well, one day I was just sitting in my room bored and alone, and then this fairy appears out of nowhere and tells me I can have anything I want."
"And so you asked for him?"
"Well, I certainly didn't ask for a twelve-inch pianist..."
:o)
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