My doorbell rang. I opened the door to find two middle-aged African-American ladies smiling at me. On a hunch I asked: “Are you Jehovah’s Witnesses?” They nodded in affirmation. I told them I wasn’t interested and they left immediately without any questions. Later, when I recounted this incident to a Nigerian friend (who happens to be a devout Protestant) he inquired: “Why? You don’t like Christians or Jehovah’s Witnesses?”
I replied: “I don’t like proselytizing.”
“Why,” he asked in a surprised way, “you don’t like people to convert?”
I said I had no problems with people wanting to convert, voluntarily. My friend agreed he did not like forced conversions either but he didn’t see what the problem was with “sharing wisdom with others.” His faith asked him to do so; therefore it was a good thing.
I explained how one person’s religious convictions could be annoying to another, especially when the expression of such unsolicited conviction contains an underlying agenda; I pointed out it could also appear condescending and offensive to a person of a different faith equally convinced of the superiority of his own religion. We did not have more time to continue talking so we left it there.
I sat down, collected my thoughts and began writing. Much of my own understanding is based on Ken Wilber’s work. I am forever indebted to him for giving me a language to validate and articulate my own spiritual experience and place it within a meaningful epistemological context.
Reality Testing in Two Domains:
EXTERIOR:
Proposition: The color of grass is violet.
How do you evaluate such a statement for truthfulness?
(Let us see where common sense gets us - I do not want to get into the technicalities of hypothesis-testing involving concepts such as falsifiability, null-hypothesis, statistical significance and the like.)
1. You set it up against the popular idea – grass is green – the proposition fails
If there is continued insistence grass is violet what do you do?
2. You point to actual green grass. If your color is rejected you move to 3
3. Call on other people to corroborate ‘grass is green’ – what if the proponent of the ‘grass is violet’ idea believes your corroborators are delusional?
4. Find documentary evidence (photographs, paintings, films) where grass appears as green.
5. If 4 fails you could conclude the proponent is:
a. from another geographical area where grass could be violet
b. blind to the color green
c. delusional (or in an altered state of consciousness)
d. lying
INTERIOR:
Proposition: If you do not believe in Jesus Christ as your personal savior you will be condemned to eternal damnation.
This is when testing gets tricky. Now we are in the domain of faith and belief – there are no EXTERNAL facts to help us here. Obviously, the person espousing the above belief believes the proposition to be true. He or she also belongs to a community that believes the same proposition. ‘Proof’ is a slippery word in the faith community because the ideas of ‘damnation’ and ‘salvation’ and ‘belief in Jesus Christ’ are subjective – they have no empirical counterparts in the external world. The faithful believe in hell without demanding evidence of hell’s existence. Often they will rely upon the interpretation of authorities in the faith community they belong to (similar to the rationalist’s reliance upon scientific authorities for scientific truths) who in turn derive their authority from a scriptural source accepted as divine and literal truth.
Belief has ancient and deep roots within the human psyche – even when it is false. We do not like questioning our beliefs because they give our lives purpose and meaning; we also fear incurring the wrath of the god of our scriptures by challenging our fundamental religious beliefs to scrutiny. Questioning beliefs is uncomfortable as it forces us to look outside our own tradition and community – it threatens to alienate us from our friends and family.
The answer to the question: Is scriptural truth true? – depends upon whom you ask the question.
The faithful believer: Yes. Absolutely!
The rational skeptic: Please don’t insult my intelligence by asking me to believe in fairytales.
Demanding evidence of the faithful for doctrinal teachings is futile as the faith community often considers such demands irreverent and the validation methods of skeptics, inadequate. Fundamentalist Christians accept without question the world was created in 7 days by a Creator, (because it is said so in the holy book) they lose no sleep over the rationalist community’s complete disregard and derision of such beliefs. There is, thus, no future in trying to ‘educate’ the faithful about the origins of the universe from a scientific standpoint, or determining the exact point at which life is conceived in the womb, or suggesting the world may not have a paternal creator. Similarly, there is no hope of ever convincing the rational types of ‘religious truths’ by repeating creation and afterlife stories written in some holy book. There is just no common ground here.
So, is there any common ground at all? I hope so! We are human. We are born, we die. We think, we feel, we experience the whole gamut of emotions that humans are wont to do. We eat, sleep, defecate and procreate. We suffer, struggle, hate, make love and celebrate. We bleed. We breathe. We dream. There is much that we share.
Our profoundest disagreements are about certain IDEAS: our notions about who we are, where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going – and these ideas define who we are to ourselves and to others. We argue and fight each other over these ideas. We identify with these ideas so intimately we often confuse an idea about reality with reality itself, we believe that without the support of these ideas we would cease to exist, our lives would fall apart, and the world as we know it would collapse!
I want to remind scientists that their domain of inquiry is best suited to the study of exteriors – comets, planets, physical forces, social and technical systems, man-made objects, elements and minerals, human behavior, flora, fauna, the world of nature, brains, atoms, quarks – the external world, both visible and invisible, and the internal parts that constitute the external world – NOT the interior world of consciousness and states of consciousness. What can be observed by the mind (the eye of reason) and the senses (the eye of flesh) is the legitimate domain of science. However, there are valid interior realities – inaccessible to science – that may be observed only through contemplation, the eye of spirit.
I want to reassure the faith community that religious doctrine may be separated from religious experience without having to suffer an ontological breakdown. We have to be careful when we talk about religious experience as it can mean different things to different people in different faith cultures. I want to avoid advocating any form of religiosity that rests on specific a priori beliefs from any religious tradition – the Holy Ghost, Immaculate Conception, salvation, nirvana, karma, reincarnation, bardos, demons, deities, angels and the like. However, there are enough accounts of a contemplation based ‘religious’ experience in all faiths, (and from the faithless as well) with enough shared characteristics, stretching all the way back in time from the present, to warrant a discussion of a common contemplative experience that does NOT require, as pre-conditions, either the acceptance of a religious doctrine or the development of rational thought. Unfortunately, the nature of this experience suffers during expression because every attempt at understanding and articulating the experience is influenced and shaped by religious or cultural ideas as well as individual intellectual maturity. The same Common Contemplative Experience (CCE) may be described using different terms and explanations by a 20th century quantum physicist, a 17th century German shoemaker, a Hindu priest from the 19th century, a philosopher from ancient Greece, a Bengali revolutionary in British India, a 20th century German poet, a 13th century Persian poet, or a 20th century Russian filmmaker. However, I am hopeful about the a posteriori possibility of distilling the essence of the CCE by uncoupling it from the particularities of doctrine and belief as well as ruling out those expressions that arise in the minds of the mentally unstable. By doing so we should be able to provide a universal description of the experience that I call CCE.
On the plus side, common contemplative experience, as opposed to dogma, can be verified in a way that should satisfy the verification-needs of skeptics. Precepts can be studied, injunctions followed, experiential facts apprehended and then validated or rejected by a community of the adequate.
I understand rationalists might well take issue with accepting a community of the adequate made up of just the faithful; however in today’s world it should not be hard to find rationalists within the community of the adequate as long as we restrict the community to those who have seriously practiced some form of contemplation and achieved results that other serious contemplators would recognize as valid. Just being religious or belonging to a particular faith cannot be sufficient qualification for membership in such a community of the adequate.
Finally, the observations I have made about the beliefs of Christian fundamentalists in this article cut across the entire spectrum of religious fundamentalism: Hindu, Jewish, Islamic et. al. The prevalence of dogmatic thinking is not unique to any particular faith. Also, Science can be (and has been) dogmatic too. It is called scientism.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
nowhere
we are here from nowhere
as these words
arrive from nowhere
as the idea that is the word
springs from nowhere
*
celestial bodies,
the millions who are born
only to die
...I, myself, am from ...
nowhere
likewise the mountains
the streams, the forests,
the myriad forms of life
all that we see
all that we don't
nowhere
we cling to a life
that comes and goes
as it chooses, as it pleases
we live a life
that came out of nowhere
*
from nowhere comes pain
from nowhere comes love
from nowhere comes these words
and our strivings in vain
My Beef With Slumdog
I finally watched Slumdog Millionaire. Yesterday. I couldn’t keep on telling my friends and students I had not seen THE film yet. I was, after all, from India, and I have a relationship of sorts with filmmaking. So I yielded.
Let me be very clear from the outset. Yes, I was aware of Amitabh’s displeasure and the ire of Patna slum dwellers – Amitabh Bachchan’s annoyance is perhaps explicable in light of the fact, he is, still, the face of Bollywood cinema, as well as the original face of the Indian version of “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire,” the TV game show; I expected controversy amongst Indians – as is usual with internationally acclaimed films about (or set in) India highlighting uncomfortable facts about life in that country. I was, also, keenly aware of the accolades at the Oscars, the appreciative remarks of friends who loved the film, the joy of patriotic Indians everywhere who believed SM signaled a coming-to-terms of sorts for both Hollywood and America – that Bollywood cinema (and India by association) was now a force to contend with. The prevailing mood, India 'hath arriveth,' could not be missed in SM's Indian supporters despite the misgivings of SM haters who believed certain distressing scenes would only confound India’s newly resurgent image on the world stage.
So, where are my loyalties? Did I love the film? Yes and no. It’s complicated. I wish Indian cinema and India well but my loyalties are to excellence in cinematic storytelling and the right of people everywhere to dream, pursue whatever they wish to pursue (as long as it causes no harm to others,) and live freely without fear. Not to clichés and false patriotism.
Slumdog Millionaire might look like a Bollywood film (I know Amitabh really hates the term) but it’s not. The obvious needs restating sometimes: although SM is set in India and has an Indian cast it is NOT your garden variety Bollywood musical. Its success in Hollywood, in the context of Lagaan’s ‘failure’ to wrest an award from the Academy, some years ago has several reasons: it does not have the required song and dance numbers that readily identify the standard Bollywood product - (the Jai Ho number is a tribute;) SM does not feature leading men and ladies whom Bollywood devotees will recognize as movie stars (Anil Kapoor and Irrfan Khan do not count as neither one of them is the protagonist) - no Amitabh (save the few sly references), no Aishwarya, no Abhishek! - I've named the first family of the hindi film industry deliberately because they continue to dominate Indian cinema; no song and dance sequences to mitigate the jarring effects of scenes depicting poverty, squalor, child abuse, police brutality, crime and anti-Muslim prejudice. The story of SM is told using the idiom and syntax of international cinema, not the regional dialect of Bollywood; it connects with an international audience mainly because of this reason.
The language of international cinema notwithstanding, SM is still ersatz cinema as far as I am concerned. Why? For the same reason this post should not be considered English literature even though the writing is in English. This is where I will lose most people who loved SM. (Mainstream American or Indian audiences do not really need my opinions on either Hollywood or Bollywood cinema, they do fine without me.) While SM might have won at the Oscars, great world cinema it is not. I will elaborate on this idea below.
Let us ignore the series of coincidences that Slumdog’s narrative premise is based upon. While storytellers who know their craft understand they cannot explain their story through a deus ex machina ploy they also know good storytelling is about making the incredible, credible. SM succeeds quite well in this regard and most audience members will not dwell long upon the improbable odds of matching game show questions with answers from a slum dweller’s life experiences. But that’s the magic and art of storytelling. In fact, the makers of SM appear to be aware of the magnitude of what they have pulled off – they brag (in a manner of speaking) about their achievement through Irrfan Khan’s character (the police officer) in the scene where he labels the alleged cheater’s explanations as “bizarrely plausible.” Now, that’s storytelling machismo of the first order. Give credit where it’s due.
What I am unable to appreciate is the lack of internal consistency in the older brother's character; the scriptwriters abandoned their craft by failing to properly set the stage for his change of heart. Not once, twice! I was not convinced, the first time, when he betrayed his younger brother – the brother he had rescued from permanent disfigurement earlier; I was not convinced, again, when he flip-flopped at the end of the film. No credible motivations were offered for either character unfoldment. This is a serious flaw in the script. Perhaps the filmmakers were banking on audiences to ignore character development issues by packing the emotional roller-coaster ride with thrills. They assumed correctly, of course; most people did not care.
The remainder of SM’s narrative structure is balanced on a series of clichés – clichés that have been proven to work on the popular imagination.
Notable clichés in SM:
The rags-to-riches story – it goes to the heart of the American Dream. In these dire economic times, Americans, perhaps more than anyone else, need to believe in the enduring myth of the American Dream. Does the dream feel more stable when, even, the inhabitants of Mumbai's slums share the same fantasies?
The love story involving twenty-somethings. Enough said.
The cute child element - always a sure thing. Couple cute children with an 'abuse' theme it becomes a doubly sure thing. American parents, liberal American parents, are extremely sensitive and protective souls - which makes them very susceptible to stories featuring maltreated children - (this is not a criticism of liberal American parents.) Middle-class Indian parents are equally horrified by accounts of child-abuse but the realities of living in India often force a blindness upon them – the problems are so immense, they seem insurmountable. Your average Indian, consequently, does not ponder the plight of homeless children on a daily basis. They are conditioned to turn their faces and look away; otherwise they would not be able to remain sane in the face of such shamefulness. But this susceptibility is exactly the reason why stories about hapless tortured children will find a place in American hearts. Put callously, it’s a cinch. Advertisers, charities, storytellers and begging-school Fagins in India know this well.
So, it is not too hard to understand why this rags-to-riches love story, involving abused children, made with all of the resources available to Hollywood, would be a hit in America. Everyone loves a feel-good story with a happy ending. The comparison with Juno is, therefore, unsurprising. The comparison with films of international stature, however, cannot include the likes of Juno; instead, they would have to be films like Salaam Bombay or City of God - films that are authentic in their representations, sincere about their art, and, hardly, crowd pleasers.
Much has been made of the horrible poverty that SM paraded before an international audience. This hypocritical reaction happens everytime. Satyajit Ray was castigated by educated Indians for showcasing India's poverty in Pather Panchali. So the furor in India and amongst Indians in the diaspora is not surprising. But ask yourself what have you actually seen of the slums? - probably enough to make you not want to see more (as you reflect on the child abuse scenes, the mounds of trash, the brutal police interrogation techniques, the religious riots). But did you actually see the insides of homes in the slums? did you get the impression you met some of the other people who lived there? did you get a sense of the daily grind? I understand SM is not a documentary, but the best films in this genre – like the ones I’ve named above – succeed in locating their characters within a milieu. It’s not just about making the camera run through a dirty alley, it’s also about making the camera pause long enough to explore faces, secondary relationships and subjects that live and die in a particular social-cultural environment. Bollywood has had a long history of abstracting its characters from real contexts – locales serve merely as pretty backdrops for song and dance routines and formulaic narratives. SM coopts and continues that particular entertainment tradition but camouflages it for its western audiences through beautiful cinematography and strategically positioned plot points that maximize the narrative’s shock factor.
Finally, in a film like SM, western audiences will not be bothered by incongruous representations of Indian society they know very little about - which is natural, if you think about it. Who cares? I do, obviously! For example, it is highly unlikely Alexandre Dumas is standard curriculum in the slums of Mumbai; the reference to the three musketeers, therefore, serves as an inauthentic but convenient story device for western and westernized audiences. Speaking of inauthenticities, it is, indeed, discombobulating (I've finally found a use for the word) to hear slum children speak fluent clearly-enunciated English in their conversations. I would much rather read subtitles in a film like this. But, then, SM would not have swept the Oscars if that were the case; instead it would have been nominated in the Best Foreign Film category. Besides, mainstream American audiences hate reading subtitles; methinks mainstream Indian audiences do too.
In the final analysis Slumdog Millionaire is a perfect coming together of Hollywood and Bollywood. It was bound to happen. For now Bollywood is selling, and Hollywood is buying.
Blah, blah, blah. I’m tired of this tirade already. If you enjoyed the film … fantastic! They’ll make more, I’m sure. If you disliked it, they won’t feel offended. I’m certain. Rest assured, they’ll make more, anyways.
Let me be very clear from the outset. Yes, I was aware of Amitabh’s displeasure and the ire of Patna slum dwellers – Amitabh Bachchan’s annoyance is perhaps explicable in light of the fact, he is, still, the face of Bollywood cinema, as well as the original face of the Indian version of “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire,” the TV game show; I expected controversy amongst Indians – as is usual with internationally acclaimed films about (or set in) India highlighting uncomfortable facts about life in that country. I was, also, keenly aware of the accolades at the Oscars, the appreciative remarks of friends who loved the film, the joy of patriotic Indians everywhere who believed SM signaled a coming-to-terms of sorts for both Hollywood and America – that Bollywood cinema (and India by association) was now a force to contend with. The prevailing mood, India 'hath arriveth,' could not be missed in SM's Indian supporters despite the misgivings of SM haters who believed certain distressing scenes would only confound India’s newly resurgent image on the world stage.
So, where are my loyalties? Did I love the film? Yes and no. It’s complicated. I wish Indian cinema and India well but my loyalties are to excellence in cinematic storytelling and the right of people everywhere to dream, pursue whatever they wish to pursue (as long as it causes no harm to others,) and live freely without fear. Not to clichés and false patriotism.
Slumdog Millionaire might look like a Bollywood film (I know Amitabh really hates the term) but it’s not. The obvious needs restating sometimes: although SM is set in India and has an Indian cast it is NOT your garden variety Bollywood musical. Its success in Hollywood, in the context of Lagaan’s ‘failure’ to wrest an award from the Academy, some years ago has several reasons: it does not have the required song and dance numbers that readily identify the standard Bollywood product - (the Jai Ho number is a tribute;) SM does not feature leading men and ladies whom Bollywood devotees will recognize as movie stars (Anil Kapoor and Irrfan Khan do not count as neither one of them is the protagonist) - no Amitabh (save the few sly references), no Aishwarya, no Abhishek! - I've named the first family of the hindi film industry deliberately because they continue to dominate Indian cinema; no song and dance sequences to mitigate the jarring effects of scenes depicting poverty, squalor, child abuse, police brutality, crime and anti-Muslim prejudice. The story of SM is told using the idiom and syntax of international cinema, not the regional dialect of Bollywood; it connects with an international audience mainly because of this reason.
The language of international cinema notwithstanding, SM is still ersatz cinema as far as I am concerned. Why? For the same reason this post should not be considered English literature even though the writing is in English. This is where I will lose most people who loved SM. (Mainstream American or Indian audiences do not really need my opinions on either Hollywood or Bollywood cinema, they do fine without me.) While SM might have won at the Oscars, great world cinema it is not. I will elaborate on this idea below.
Let us ignore the series of coincidences that Slumdog’s narrative premise is based upon. While storytellers who know their craft understand they cannot explain their story through a deus ex machina ploy they also know good storytelling is about making the incredible, credible. SM succeeds quite well in this regard and most audience members will not dwell long upon the improbable odds of matching game show questions with answers from a slum dweller’s life experiences. But that’s the magic and art of storytelling. In fact, the makers of SM appear to be aware of the magnitude of what they have pulled off – they brag (in a manner of speaking) about their achievement through Irrfan Khan’s character (the police officer) in the scene where he labels the alleged cheater’s explanations as “bizarrely plausible.” Now, that’s storytelling machismo of the first order. Give credit where it’s due.
What I am unable to appreciate is the lack of internal consistency in the older brother's character; the scriptwriters abandoned their craft by failing to properly set the stage for his change of heart. Not once, twice! I was not convinced, the first time, when he betrayed his younger brother – the brother he had rescued from permanent disfigurement earlier; I was not convinced, again, when he flip-flopped at the end of the film. No credible motivations were offered for either character unfoldment. This is a serious flaw in the script. Perhaps the filmmakers were banking on audiences to ignore character development issues by packing the emotional roller-coaster ride with thrills. They assumed correctly, of course; most people did not care.
The remainder of SM’s narrative structure is balanced on a series of clichés – clichés that have been proven to work on the popular imagination.
Notable clichés in SM:
The rags-to-riches story – it goes to the heart of the American Dream. In these dire economic times, Americans, perhaps more than anyone else, need to believe in the enduring myth of the American Dream. Does the dream feel more stable when, even, the inhabitants of Mumbai's slums share the same fantasies?
The love story involving twenty-somethings. Enough said.
The cute child element - always a sure thing. Couple cute children with an 'abuse' theme it becomes a doubly sure thing. American parents, liberal American parents, are extremely sensitive and protective souls - which makes them very susceptible to stories featuring maltreated children - (this is not a criticism of liberal American parents.) Middle-class Indian parents are equally horrified by accounts of child-abuse but the realities of living in India often force a blindness upon them – the problems are so immense, they seem insurmountable. Your average Indian, consequently, does not ponder the plight of homeless children on a daily basis. They are conditioned to turn their faces and look away; otherwise they would not be able to remain sane in the face of such shamefulness. But this susceptibility is exactly the reason why stories about hapless tortured children will find a place in American hearts. Put callously, it’s a cinch. Advertisers, charities, storytellers and begging-school Fagins in India know this well.
So, it is not too hard to understand why this rags-to-riches love story, involving abused children, made with all of the resources available to Hollywood, would be a hit in America. Everyone loves a feel-good story with a happy ending. The comparison with Juno is, therefore, unsurprising. The comparison with films of international stature, however, cannot include the likes of Juno; instead, they would have to be films like Salaam Bombay or City of God - films that are authentic in their representations, sincere about their art, and, hardly, crowd pleasers.
Much has been made of the horrible poverty that SM paraded before an international audience. This hypocritical reaction happens everytime. Satyajit Ray was castigated by educated Indians for showcasing India's poverty in Pather Panchali. So the furor in India and amongst Indians in the diaspora is not surprising. But ask yourself what have you actually seen of the slums? - probably enough to make you not want to see more (as you reflect on the child abuse scenes, the mounds of trash, the brutal police interrogation techniques, the religious riots). But did you actually see the insides of homes in the slums? did you get the impression you met some of the other people who lived there? did you get a sense of the daily grind? I understand SM is not a documentary, but the best films in this genre – like the ones I’ve named above – succeed in locating their characters within a milieu. It’s not just about making the camera run through a dirty alley, it’s also about making the camera pause long enough to explore faces, secondary relationships and subjects that live and die in a particular social-cultural environment. Bollywood has had a long history of abstracting its characters from real contexts – locales serve merely as pretty backdrops for song and dance routines and formulaic narratives. SM coopts and continues that particular entertainment tradition but camouflages it for its western audiences through beautiful cinematography and strategically positioned plot points that maximize the narrative’s shock factor.
Finally, in a film like SM, western audiences will not be bothered by incongruous representations of Indian society they know very little about - which is natural, if you think about it. Who cares? I do, obviously! For example, it is highly unlikely Alexandre Dumas is standard curriculum in the slums of Mumbai; the reference to the three musketeers, therefore, serves as an inauthentic but convenient story device for western and westernized audiences. Speaking of inauthenticities, it is, indeed, discombobulating (I've finally found a use for the word) to hear slum children speak fluent clearly-enunciated English in their conversations. I would much rather read subtitles in a film like this. But, then, SM would not have swept the Oscars if that were the case; instead it would have been nominated in the Best Foreign Film category. Besides, mainstream American audiences hate reading subtitles; methinks mainstream Indian audiences do too.
In the final analysis Slumdog Millionaire is a perfect coming together of Hollywood and Bollywood. It was bound to happen. For now Bollywood is selling, and Hollywood is buying.
Blah, blah, blah. I’m tired of this tirade already. If you enjoyed the film … fantastic! They’ll make more, I’m sure. If you disliked it, they won’t feel offended. I’m certain. Rest assured, they’ll make more, anyways.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Karen Armstrong I (Bill Moyers Journal)
I was so moved by what Karen Armstrong had to say in this interview that I had to link it here.
"Compassion doesn't mean feeling sorry for people. It doesn't mean pity. It means putting yourself in the position of the other, learning about the other." Karen Armstrong
"Compassion doesn't mean feeling sorry for people. It doesn't mean pity. It means putting yourself in the position of the other, learning about the other." Karen Armstrong
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Way of the Heart 2
Lest I create the wrong impression, I must confess, what I wrote in Way of the Heart 1 is more an example of wishful imagining than a practice that I have successfully mastered in my own life. It's a terrific idea on paper but an almost impossible ideal to strive toward. I have my own compilation of moments when I totally failed to show love to a tormentor or a petty tyrant (and I have the temerity to speak on behalf of humanity!) I can easily think of a number of people with whom I probably wouldn't get very far in my journey by taking the 'way of the heart.' Imagine a situation where I'm attempting to move the heart of Attila the Hun (I'm drawing upon a distant historical figure deliberately as it is somewhat easier to envision Attila as a 'monster' without someone interrupting and claiming, "Oh, but Attila wrote these love songs that are still sung in the Great Steppes." Maybe Attila did write love songs. Maybe Attila IS a noble benevolent king in non-European historical accounts. I don't know. Okay?) - the point is, Attila's heart - if he had one - was probably not aware of a 'way' that belonged to it.
I guess I am straining to catch the whisperings of my own heart ... and not really attempting to influence the likes of Attila.
I guess I am straining to catch the whisperings of my own heart ... and not really attempting to influence the likes of Attila.
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