Rhythms

Here are a selection of videos that have lodged themselves in my head over the past few days (for some unknown reason):
Alela Diane is an artist I’ve not heard of…but will certainly seek her out more:

This Kelly Osbourne video tries a little too hard to be serious, but I love the style of the era invoked:

And this Röyksopp video is one of my favourites (spooky, but one of my favourites):

What Else Is There? from Röyksopp on Vimeo.

Oh Bother

Because of a bureaucratic glitch, I’m going to have to leave the UK at the end of this month. One is required to have £800 in the bank at all times for the three months prior to making an application for a visa. That first month of working, when I was transitioning from “student” to “full-time worker, taxpayer, and general contributor to society”, I dipped slightly below that. I realised this three months ago (after if was already too late) and called the Home Office; they said the rule was absolute but, of course, someone sits down and reviews my specific situation (e.g. that I have a full-time permanent job and a regular income). However, I called the international student advisor at my school earlier this week to get the necessary documentation from him for my application—and he said not to even bother. Apparently the government is finding any excuse to deny visas (he just had 120 denied because there was a date presented incorrectly on the graduation letter from Strathclyde). He said that, a year ago, in my situation, they would not have even blinked. “Oh, this fellow already has a job…here is the visa”. Now they are absolutely hard-line, black and white.

We are looking into what my options are; my (terrifically supportive) company is keen on keeping me. The most sensible thing is going to be to end my contract here and send me to another one of the offices abroad (France seems the likely contender at the moment, we are checking on the procedure for a French visa [which, though the French have their own reputation for red tape, seems much more at ease than the British system. The Home Office has all these guidelines and forms regarding visas; the French Consulate General website basically says, “call us up for an appointment and we’ll talk about your needs”—perhaps with a glass of wine and some cheese]). The bizarre thing is that the government is shooting itself in the foot with stuff like this; my company is not going to hire someone else in my place, they will just send me to another country…and my tax and social revenue will go there with me. I want to be here! I have a good job, plus I do NGO work on the side and want to bring in folk from the organisations I work with do training and programs here. I’m not leaching off the government or just floundering about. Grrrrrr (to use an exact expression).

It’s a sudden upheaval; just as I am getting settled in, I must leave because of a relatively minor technicality. I will try to come back (as I have till next September to apply for a post-graduate study visa). However, once the visa I have expires (this month), I will have to apply from abroad; applicants from a third country must have £2800 in the bank at all times for the three months prior to application. So wherever I go, it will be for at least three months plus the processing time.

This is all a huge bother and I feel like I’m not dealing with people; just up before a big machine. It is an education though; as an American, it’s easy to fall into an slightly rosy understanding of what one’s rights are to travel and live abroad since my passport opens so many doors. However, my country is famous (now at least) for not reciprocating that openness (e.g. the citizens of many of the places I have been can not travel to the US as readily as I can to their countries). I understand the reasons for all these things on paper; but, when one is dealing with a system that defines people’s lives by an unwavering observation of a set of rules, it’s difficult to maintain an un-biased view.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to you all; wherever my far-flung friends are and however you may celebrate (or not) the season. Though it seems that every comment on the word right now is dire, may the coming year be filled with peace and contentment for you all. No matter the turmoil, we have the un-perturbable nature of human hope in reserve; that is an economy we can draw on regardless.

Too powerful tools

I went to film school in the early 90’s and was probably one of the last generation who learned to edit on a flatbed editor (actually handling and cutting the film, marking dissolves with a grease pencil and etc.). Since then, the tools available have evolved exponentially and allow all manner of independent productions on limited budgets. These advances give tremendous creative freedom; however, they can, in the wrong hands, unravel the thread of sensibility to a previously unimaginable—I can’t even think of a word to put here.
I came across these two videos this morning; they are apparently in contention for the “Best Unintentionally Funny Videos Ever”. The first one stirs my the depts of my American heart.

The second one is the most over the top beyond all get out embarrassing use of media I think I’ve ever seen (it makes me want to hide under my desk). I don’t think this is actually from a film; it’s just a song glued to a series of fantasy film elements made up expressly to show off this fellow’s hair.

Click here to experience the extravaganza

More synchronicity

I went to Wigtown this morning (it’s known as Scotland’s book town; it’s a small village with about 10 bookshops). I got off the bus, walked into Scotland’s largest second-hand bookshop and the first book I see the title of is the Charlotte Brontë‘s Villette which is—the book I’ve been reading for the past week. I would say it’s bizarre, but I’m just getting used to it.

Synchronicity

I’m reading Synchronicity by Deike Begg. It’s not a book that I sought out; I saw it on the shelf of a friend over the weekend and asked to borrow it (I think, considering the subject matter, one must just come across such books, not look for them).
The term synchronicity was coined by C.G. Jung; he defined it as an “acausal connecting principle.” or, as more coherently defined on Wikipedia:

Synchronicity is the experience of two or more events which are causally unrelated occurring together in a meaningful manner. In order to be synchronous, the events should be unlikely to occur together by random chance.
The concept does not question, or compete with, the notion of causality. Instead, it maintains that just as events may be grouped by cause, they may also be grouped by their meaning. Since meaning is a complex mental construction, subject to conscious and subconscious influence, not every correlation in the grouping of events by meaning needs to have an explanation in terms of cause and effect.
In order to be synchronous, the events should not be causally connected—one should not be the cause of the other, and they should not have an apparent underlying cause.

This is a subject that has fascinated me for some years now because I tend to regularly experience synchronous events. For example, whilst reading and listening to National Public Radio or the BBC, I often read a word and hear it at the same time on the radio (not common words like conjunctions—more often something like “Hindenburgh” or “anachronism”). I have, back in the States, a log of these words (several pages); on a few occasions, it’s happened with entire phrases.

On Saturday, I went to a second-hand bookshop on Great Western Road in Glasgow looking for material on The Golden Ratio (the proportions underlying aesthetics, art, and design across many cultures and ages). A few hours later I was at a dinner where someone brought up the theories of Fibonacci—which are the mathematical implications of the Golden Ratio.

Sunday, on the train to Edinburgh, I read this book whilst listening to music on my iPod. The text mentioned a poem by the 14th Century mystic, St. John of the Cross. Just as I read those words, I listened to the last few notes of Loreena McKennitt’s musical adaptation of the poem. So I was reading a book about synchronous events and had a particularly obscure one doing so; the universe is a fascinating place to be about.