Wednesday, 27 June 2012
Follow my journey to England!
For those who might be rather impatient with my sluggish update schedule, you are very much welcome to have a sneak peek at the photos first. That said, you will have an even better experience with my further little stories accompanying the photos! So please stay tuned!
A Spectacular Spectacle
If your memory still serves, I request you to recall the opening ceremony of Beijing Olympics 2008, which shouldn't be too difficult a task given its impressive brilliance. I still remember that night four years ago, when I watched it at home with my family, utterly speechless and in awe. Just in the unlikely case of premature dementia, here it is:
That said, I am not expecting yet another ceremony surpassing China's in terms of magnificence, which in my opinion is only an ill-advised attempt in terms of feasibility and budget. I was therefore quite certain that the committee would perhaps opt for a more British (i.e. humble and subtle) alternative to avoid direct comparisons.
Well indeed, when the ceremony details were revealed, I wasn't surprised at all that they will be showcasing livestock, meadow, cricket, and most importantly, rain:
If you still remember, one of the biggest bewilderments in Beijing Olymipics was the attempt to artificially clear out the sky. The british way here is ironically reverse in that they will chemically manufacture cloud and rain, making sure that the spectator will have a taste of the ultimate British experience. But honestly, wouldn't that only be redundant?
It might be called a spectacle, but the study of which will tell us numerous things about a culture's imaginaries. And I must say that I am utterly thrilled to watch how they will cleverly maneuver sheep and clouds to redefine British-ness.
The flawlessly sychronised mass choreography, the billions-invested fantastic digital effects, the little girl in red serenading with her tender voice, etc, etc. Everything could be concluded by one word - spectacular. Despite the subsequent embarrassing discovery that the voice didn't belong to the little pretty singer , which is quite comprehensible and if not expected under the context of China, the ceremony did not seem to have failed to amaze and astonish.
Cultural critics loathed it though, accusing the whole extravaganza a mere spectacle that empties the lived experience into a hollow, two-dimensional, commodified representation that represents inaccurately. In other words, it's all fake, it's after all yet another show to be consumed globally.
BUT - and thats a big but - the fact is that even rewatching the ceremony on Youtube still sends chills down my spine. I might be nationally biased, but I honestly couldn't name any subsequent events that are comparable to such opulent grandeur -
Until I watched the Diamond Jubilee Concert live when I was in England. It didn't come under the package of high-technology or awe-inspiring spatial vastness. Well in fact the stage was rather tiny, and some performer choices questionable (e.g. JLS). However, as I watched the Brits sing God Saves the Queen and Land of Hope and Glory, the same old chill seized me. It was at that moment when I began to anticipate the opening ceremony of London Olympics.
Cultural critics loathed it though, accusing the whole extravaganza a mere spectacle that empties the lived experience into a hollow, two-dimensional, commodified representation that represents inaccurately. In other words, it's all fake, it's after all yet another show to be consumed globally.
BUT - and thats a big but - the fact is that even rewatching the ceremony on Youtube still sends chills down my spine. I might be nationally biased, but I honestly couldn't name any subsequent events that are comparable to such opulent grandeur -
Until I watched the Diamond Jubilee Concert live when I was in England. It didn't come under the package of high-technology or awe-inspiring spatial vastness. Well in fact the stage was rather tiny, and some performer choices questionable (e.g. JLS). However, as I watched the Brits sing God Saves the Queen and Land of Hope and Glory, the same old chill seized me. It was at that moment when I began to anticipate the opening ceremony of London Olympics.
That said, I am not expecting yet another ceremony surpassing China's in terms of magnificence, which in my opinion is only an ill-advised attempt in terms of feasibility and budget. I was therefore quite certain that the committee would perhaps opt for a more British (i.e. humble and subtle) alternative to avoid direct comparisons.
Well indeed, when the ceremony details were revealed, I wasn't surprised at all that they will be showcasing livestock, meadow, cricket, and most importantly, rain:
If you still remember, one of the biggest bewilderments in Beijing Olymipics was the attempt to artificially clear out the sky. The british way here is ironically reverse in that they will chemically manufacture cloud and rain, making sure that the spectator will have a taste of the ultimate British experience. But honestly, wouldn't that only be redundant?
It might be called a spectacle, but the study of which will tell us numerous things about a culture's imaginaries. And I must say that I am utterly thrilled to watch how they will cleverly maneuver sheep and clouds to redefine British-ness.
Sunday, 24 June 2012
Offensive pigeons
Etiquette is known to be a time-honoured virture proudly shared by the Brits, who, as I have been told since childhood, cannot hold a conversation without saying "Thanks (or cheers)" and "please", and cannot blame people without being apologetic. Despite this understanding that I was heading to "the United Kingdom of Courtesy", I couldn't help feeling delightfully surprised at the decorum I observed in everyday details.
The pigeons there, however, didn't seem to have the slightest share of such refinement. Numerically speaking, pigeons possibly surpass quite a lot of "raical minorities" in London as a humongous community. The horrid fact is that they are completely unabided by any cultural codes, which is, if you personify them, comparable to a mob which blatantly rules the streets.
One morning I was walking down to Green Park from Picadilly Circus, taking in the pleasant warmth from the rare sunlight, humming songs and imagining myself as some sort of male romantic lead in an artsy film. Suddenly, a giant flying object approached me at a velocity faster than I could decipher. Its flight aimed precisely at my head, as I expected an unfortunate collision with that intruder. There, before I could react more wittingly than freezing still, the object, which turned out to be a bird upon a 0.5m close-up, tore past me and slabbed my face with its wing. Oh yes - that pigeon SLABBED me. My knee-jerk reaction was to turn back at lightning speed, hoping to destroy the diabolical creature with my disapproving glare. It was, however and of course, futile.
Standing in the street and still recollecting my composure, I was a tad disoriented - should I be embarrassed or furious because of that abusive pegion? I know how ludicrous it sounds to you, but very seriously, failing to retaliate, even just with a glare or any forms of visual disgruntlements, was beyond frustrating. I do not remember those tiny sparrows in HK ever misbehaving in equal obnoxiousness!
In the rest of my days in London, I remained constantly vigilant against any suspicious avian terrorist attacks. Curious to know if I was the only unfortunate case, I told my friends this story. We then reached the agreement that pigeons in London are unabashedly aggressive, and should be sent to correctional camps.
The pigeons there, however, didn't seem to have the slightest share of such refinement. Numerically speaking, pigeons possibly surpass quite a lot of "raical minorities" in London as a humongous community. The horrid fact is that they are completely unabided by any cultural codes, which is, if you personify them, comparable to a mob which blatantly rules the streets.
One morning I was walking down to Green Park from Picadilly Circus, taking in the pleasant warmth from the rare sunlight, humming songs and imagining myself as some sort of male romantic lead in an artsy film. Suddenly, a giant flying object approached me at a velocity faster than I could decipher. Its flight aimed precisely at my head, as I expected an unfortunate collision with that intruder. There, before I could react more wittingly than freezing still, the object, which turned out to be a bird upon a 0.5m close-up, tore past me and slabbed my face with its wing. Oh yes - that pigeon SLABBED me. My knee-jerk reaction was to turn back at lightning speed, hoping to destroy the diabolical creature with my disapproving glare. It was, however and of course, futile.
 |
| Blatantly evil |
Standing in the street and still recollecting my composure, I was a tad disoriented - should I be embarrassed or furious because of that abusive pegion? I know how ludicrous it sounds to you, but very seriously, failing to retaliate, even just with a glare or any forms of visual disgruntlements, was beyond frustrating. I do not remember those tiny sparrows in HK ever misbehaving in equal obnoxiousness!
In the rest of my days in London, I remained constantly vigilant against any suspicious avian terrorist attacks. Curious to know if I was the only unfortunate case, I told my friends this story. We then reached the agreement that pigeons in London are unabashedly aggressive, and should be sent to correctional camps.
 |
| Almost there. Hitchcock's _The Birds_ |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)