OMG I do not know which competition this came from, but seriously ... whoa ...
Probably not safe for the workplace (unless you got your privacy). :p
Showing posts with label tripping the lights fantastic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tripping the lights fantastic. Show all posts
Monday, February 22, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Spearing your destiny
One of the longest post I've written here was a spleen venting on the sad state of the National Museum. However, I am pleased to see that things are a-changing, as evidenced by the new look to the Jabatan Muzium Malaysia's website and the multitude of exhibitions planned.
The list of museums under the Jabatan Muzium Malaysia is also quite impressive, something I am sure that many are unaware. However, this does not include the museums by the respective state governments and other institutions such as the Islamic Arts Museum under the AlBukhary Foundation. All in all, there are roughly 150 museums in total in Malaysia; from the government sponsored (federal and state), institutional or departmental (e.g the Muzium Seni Asia in Universiti Malaya) as well as private museums.
What cinched it for me was the Sg Lembing Museum of Mining in Pahang. A lovely bijou nestled in the highlands of Pahang, it documented the hey days of tin mining in Malaysia, but particularly of the state.
I had an opportunity to see it during a Kuantan family trip; a massive one comprising of 9 families to a total of 45 people.
The grand melee.
Sg Lembing was once the hub of tin mining in Pahang, boasting the deepest tin mine in the world. It is also the home of my uncle's in-laws, who kindly hosted us for a lovely morning tea. We took a moment to splash around in the deliciously cool waters of Sungai Kenau; its rich mineralised landscape evident in the colourful striations of the rocks and pebbles of the river.
Don't ask why is the Jeep resting in the river. I have no idea.
The museum is housed in what used to be the mining company manager's residence up on a steep slope of an already hilly country. Climbing up towards it was quite a challenge to some of the gang members hampered by less than ideal health condition.
The harmonious blend of colonial and local architecture, no?
The environment surrounding the museum was wonderfully landscaped to make the most of the undulating surface and the cool temperature of the highlands lent a vigor to the flowers.
Antique water tap?
Not as cool as Cameron Highlands, but delicious nonetheless.
It was documented by historians both local and foreign that tin mining has been a crucial element in the economy of the Malay states even way back during the Malacca sultanate. This means that tin mining was actively engaged in the Malay states even before the British colonialist wangled it into becoming the backbone of the British empire.
Some of the ledgers and cashbooks of the mining company.
The exhibit displayed implements used in the open mining and deep mining methods. The mining done in Sungai Lembing was the latter process, as the grounds made it impossible to have the open type mining more popular in the flatlands of Selangor and Perak. Those open mines brought about thousands of mining pools that have been converted to either aquaculture ponds or covered for commercial development.
Some scary looking instruments, yeah?
The old fashioned fire engine.
The dulang for the mendulang is actually made of wood.
The miners wore minimal clothing as the temperatures in the mines reached hellish proportions.
Tin that was extracted from the ground was processed nearby the mines for export purposes. Plating using tin made processed food production for long term storage possible in the 19th century, indirectly contributing to the economic domination of the Western powers. Today, tin is mostly used as solder, in the plastic industries and as anti-fouling agents. However, it was found that organotin compounds may have undesirable effects on the environment; hence its use is becoming more and more limited.
The granite containing tin ore.
Processed ore.
Jongkong timah. :D
Tin mining was done on mega scale by the British colonialists who brought in the Chinese coolies to work in the mines. I won't go into detail about the impact of this exercise upon the socioeconomy of the indigenous population here, but suffice to say that this changed the ethnic landscape of the Malay states dramatically. To this day, the Chinese community is very prominent in Sungai Lembing.
Lanterns to mark the lunar new year.
Old school trike.
Grand bedroom.
It was a pity that I didn't have much time to really go through the exhibits as I would have liked. I dawdled enough that my Mum rang me on my mobile to remind me to get down as everyone had left for lunch. There were so many more things to see; the diorama at the outside as well as other items placed outside the museum. Oh well, them's the breaks when you travel in a large group.
However, I must say that the museum was as finely appointed as the mining museum that I visited in the Blue Mountains while I was in Sydney last year. It gave me an appreciation of the impact tin mining had not only to the socioeconomy of the country but also how it contributed towards our subjugation by foreign powers. The museum brought to life a slice of history that was unbearably dry and unexciting when it was taught in school. I hope that more people make full use of the museums in the country to learn of where we came from so that we can chart where we are going next.
The list of museums under the Jabatan Muzium Malaysia is also quite impressive, something I am sure that many are unaware. However, this does not include the museums by the respective state governments and other institutions such as the Islamic Arts Museum under the AlBukhary Foundation. All in all, there are roughly 150 museums in total in Malaysia; from the government sponsored (federal and state), institutional or departmental (e.g the Muzium Seni Asia in Universiti Malaya) as well as private museums.
What cinched it for me was the Sg Lembing Museum of Mining in Pahang. A lovely bijou nestled in the highlands of Pahang, it documented the hey days of tin mining in Malaysia, but particularly of the state.
I had an opportunity to see it during a Kuantan family trip; a massive one comprising of 9 families to a total of 45 people.
The grand melee.Sg Lembing was once the hub of tin mining in Pahang, boasting the deepest tin mine in the world. It is also the home of my uncle's in-laws, who kindly hosted us for a lovely morning tea. We took a moment to splash around in the deliciously cool waters of Sungai Kenau; its rich mineralised landscape evident in the colourful striations of the rocks and pebbles of the river.
Don't ask why is the Jeep resting in the river. I have no idea.The museum is housed in what used to be the mining company manager's residence up on a steep slope of an already hilly country. Climbing up towards it was quite a challenge to some of the gang members hampered by less than ideal health condition.
The harmonious blend of colonial and local architecture, no? The environment surrounding the museum was wonderfully landscaped to make the most of the undulating surface and the cool temperature of the highlands lent a vigor to the flowers.
Antique water tap? 
Not as cool as Cameron Highlands, but delicious nonetheless.It was documented by historians both local and foreign that tin mining has been a crucial element in the economy of the Malay states even way back during the Malacca sultanate. This means that tin mining was actively engaged in the Malay states even before the British colonialist wangled it into becoming the backbone of the British empire.
Some of the ledgers and cashbooks of the mining company.The exhibit displayed implements used in the open mining and deep mining methods. The mining done in Sungai Lembing was the latter process, as the grounds made it impossible to have the open type mining more popular in the flatlands of Selangor and Perak. Those open mines brought about thousands of mining pools that have been converted to either aquaculture ponds or covered for commercial development.
Some scary looking instruments, yeah?
The old fashioned fire engine.
The dulang for the mendulang is actually made of wood.
The miners wore minimal clothing as the temperatures in the mines reached hellish proportions.Tin that was extracted from the ground was processed nearby the mines for export purposes. Plating using tin made processed food production for long term storage possible in the 19th century, indirectly contributing to the economic domination of the Western powers. Today, tin is mostly used as solder, in the plastic industries and as anti-fouling agents. However, it was found that organotin compounds may have undesirable effects on the environment; hence its use is becoming more and more limited.
The granite containing tin ore.
Processed ore.
Jongkong timah. :DTin mining was done on mega scale by the British colonialists who brought in the Chinese coolies to work in the mines. I won't go into detail about the impact of this exercise upon the socioeconomy of the indigenous population here, but suffice to say that this changed the ethnic landscape of the Malay states dramatically. To this day, the Chinese community is very prominent in Sungai Lembing.
Lanterns to mark the lunar new year.The managers of the mining company were usually from Great Britain. They lived in style here and some even brought their family over.
Old school trike.
Grand bedroom.It was a pity that I didn't have much time to really go through the exhibits as I would have liked. I dawdled enough that my Mum rang me on my mobile to remind me to get down as everyone had left for lunch. There were so many more things to see; the diorama at the outside as well as other items placed outside the museum. Oh well, them's the breaks when you travel in a large group.
However, I must say that the museum was as finely appointed as the mining museum that I visited in the Blue Mountains while I was in Sydney last year. It gave me an appreciation of the impact tin mining had not only to the socioeconomy of the country but also how it contributed towards our subjugation by foreign powers. The museum brought to life a slice of history that was unbearably dry and unexciting when it was taught in school. I hope that more people make full use of the museums in the country to learn of where we came from so that we can chart where we are going next.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tongue firmly in cheek
The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly neologism contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternative meanings for common words.
The winners are:
1. Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
3. Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
6. Negligent (adj.), a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
7. Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle (n), olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokemon (n), Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster (n.), person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand): The belief
that, when you die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent (n.), opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.
The Washington Post's Style Invitational also asked readers to take
any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.
Here are this year's winners:
1. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops
bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
2. Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the
purpose of getting laid.
3. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
4. Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
5. Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
6. Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
7. Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.
8. Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate's disease. ( that one got extra
credit)
9. Karmageddon (n): Its like, when everybody is sending off all
these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's
like, a serious bummer.
10. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day
consuming only things that are good for you.
11. Glibido (v): All talk and no action.
12. Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
13. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after
you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
14. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into
your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
15. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub
in the fruit you're eating.
And the pick of the literature:
16. Ignoranus (n): A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
The winners are:
1. Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
3. Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
6. Negligent (adj.), a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
7. Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle (n), olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokemon (n), Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster (n.), person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand): The belief
that, when you die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent (n.), opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.
The Washington Post's Style Invitational also asked readers to take
any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.
Here are this year's winners:
1. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops
bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
2. Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the
purpose of getting laid.
3. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
4. Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
5. Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
6. Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
7. Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.
8. Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate's disease. ( that one got extra
credit)
9. Karmageddon (n): Its like, when everybody is sending off all
these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's
like, a serious bummer.
10. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day
consuming only things that are good for you.
11. Glibido (v): All talk and no action.
12. Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
13. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after
you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
14. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into
your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
15. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub
in the fruit you're eating.
And the pick of the literature:
16. Ignoranus (n): A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Jaw dropper
Cowboys don't really do it for me. But these guys?
OMG.
*topples*
If these guys ever make it to our shores, Ima empty the piggy bank to go and watch.
*licks lips*
And no Brokeback quips, ok? Let me have some fantasy of straight men who can move.
OMG.
*topples*
If these guys ever make it to our shores, Ima empty the piggy bank to go and watch.
*licks lips*
And no Brokeback quips, ok? Let me have some fantasy of straight men who can move.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Put a Ring on It
I'm not a fan of Beyonce, but John Barrowman makes for excellent eye candy.
This goes a long way towards erasing the Joe Jonas version. *shudder*
This goes a long way towards erasing the Joe Jonas version. *shudder*
Sunday, November 1, 2009
The winner writes history...
The Inglourious Basterds made a very good case for alternative history and underscores how serendipity could be the making or breaking of an event. It was interesting to watch a Hollywood movie with mostly European cast and largely in French or German. Being a Quentin Tarantino movie, it is only fair to expect comical violence, although not to the level of Kill Bill.
A fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
A fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Kinda like the telephone game gone wrong.
I get a variation of this a lot from my mum.
Except that she would insist that I was somewhere doing something with her when actually? It was my sister.
I ... have no words.
Except that she would insist that I was somewhere doing something with her when actually? It was my sister.
I ... have no words.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Food ambassador
You gotta love Jamie Oliver. This is a guy who doesn't accept limitations and goes out to do what he feels is right. He overcame dyslexia and hyperactivity to become one of the world's most famous proponent of good food for everybody. Watching him cook is like watching a controlled whirlwind; but instead of destruction, he left lovely and delicious gustatory creation in his wake.
On his crusade to teach the world that you can cook and eat well, healthy and cheap, Jamie has embarked on a new journey: to teach super-size-this America to eat right.
Good luck, Jamie!
On his crusade to teach the world that you can cook and eat well, healthy and cheap, Jamie has embarked on a new journey: to teach super-size-this America to eat right.
Good luck, Jamie!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Bleeding for (a) good (cause)?
I have heard of people who are addicted to blood donation. I never thought that I could be one of them. I have always found the experience to be enjoyable; a comfy chair, a book in hand, nice, soft hands petting your arm to coax the life-giving elixir out ...
Why aren't more people doing it?
*ponders*
Why aren't more people doing it?
*ponders*
Thursday, August 6, 2009
The many sources of aurgasm
A number of my friends have fallen victim to my blathering on and on and on about music; usually over artists / music genre that they never heard before or care about. *grin* You could recognise them after the fact of my bending their unwilling ears by the glazed look in their eyes and the discreet drool slowly dripping off their chin.
Tonight, I was introduced to a new source of aurgasms: qasidah. It is a form of poetry that is paired with melody and beat, recited in honour of some special personage. In Malaysia, it is commonly sung as tribute to the Prophet Muhammad, PBUH, at weddings, cukur jambul and other ceremonies with a strong religious overtones (which is many for Malays).
The group Al-Kawakib presented three qasidah tonight at the 51st Al-Quran Recitation Assembly at the Putra World Trade Centre. I saw parts of it on live telecast, courtesy of TV1, with one part interrupted by a remote control battle with my niece. I'm proud to say that tonight? I won. The qasidah was part of the performance during the break before the rest of the qari and qariah presented their recital in the second half.
There were roughly 12 men in the group, with three in the last row with hand drums to keep the beat. Their ages range from early twenties to late fifties. There were four lead singers lauding praise to the Prophet Muhammad, PBUH, with the rest either keeping beat or backup harmonies. Each singer had a red-bound song book placed on rehal (an instrument to support the Al-Quran when reading on the floor, commonly made of wood) placed before them; they appeared to be handwritten. The beautiful melding of tenor and baritone brought tears to my eyes, their voices resonating with love and devotion.
For a song to capture me, it need not even be in a language I understand. It is all about the melody and the emotions expressed in the voice that moves you. I have cried listening to flamenco songs; for all I know, they were singing about losing their goats in the Pyrenees. But the mournfulness of the song was unmistakable, tugging at the beating organ behind my sternum. Sigh. I am such a sap.
The power of emotion relayed through voice cannot be underplayed. To many ears, the recital by the qariah from Kazakhstan was rather flat and monotonous; she had no flourishes or rills common to most qaris. To me however, her recital was heartfelt; I thought that her approach suited the surah she was reading wonderfully. She recited Al-Hadid from verse 20 onwards and if you read the meaning, you'll understand what I mean. The clear, bell-like tones of her voice was simply wonderful to my ears. Her purity of note brought to mind the silky flutes of 60s instrumental songs that always made me think of a really good acid trip. Okay, perhaps the comparison was not apt, but I think you know what I mean.
Perhaps I can win the remote control war again tomorrow night. I need my daily dose of aurgam.
*grin*
Tonight, I was introduced to a new source of aurgasms: qasidah. It is a form of poetry that is paired with melody and beat, recited in honour of some special personage. In Malaysia, it is commonly sung as tribute to the Prophet Muhammad, PBUH, at weddings, cukur jambul and other ceremonies with a strong religious overtones (which is many for Malays).
The group Al-Kawakib presented three qasidah tonight at the 51st Al-Quran Recitation Assembly at the Putra World Trade Centre. I saw parts of it on live telecast, courtesy of TV1, with one part interrupted by a remote control battle with my niece. I'm proud to say that tonight? I won. The qasidah was part of the performance during the break before the rest of the qari and qariah presented their recital in the second half.
There were roughly 12 men in the group, with three in the last row with hand drums to keep the beat. Their ages range from early twenties to late fifties. There were four lead singers lauding praise to the Prophet Muhammad, PBUH, with the rest either keeping beat or backup harmonies. Each singer had a red-bound song book placed on rehal (an instrument to support the Al-Quran when reading on the floor, commonly made of wood) placed before them; they appeared to be handwritten. The beautiful melding of tenor and baritone brought tears to my eyes, their voices resonating with love and devotion.
For a song to capture me, it need not even be in a language I understand. It is all about the melody and the emotions expressed in the voice that moves you. I have cried listening to flamenco songs; for all I know, they were singing about losing their goats in the Pyrenees. But the mournfulness of the song was unmistakable, tugging at the beating organ behind my sternum. Sigh. I am such a sap.
The power of emotion relayed through voice cannot be underplayed. To many ears, the recital by the qariah from Kazakhstan was rather flat and monotonous; she had no flourishes or rills common to most qaris. To me however, her recital was heartfelt; I thought that her approach suited the surah she was reading wonderfully. She recited Al-Hadid from verse 20 onwards and if you read the meaning, you'll understand what I mean. The clear, bell-like tones of her voice was simply wonderful to my ears. Her purity of note brought to mind the silky flutes of 60s instrumental songs that always made me think of a really good acid trip. Okay, perhaps the comparison was not apt, but I think you know what I mean.
Perhaps I can win the remote control war again tomorrow night. I need my daily dose of aurgam.
*grin*
Going kaboom and kablooey!
I had an awesome time with my cousin last night watching GI Joe. Movie preview, whoo! And the movie was everything a summer popcorn flick should be.
1. Violence? Check.
2. Buff, good looking characters? Check.
3. Lots of things being blown up? Check.
4. Insane storyline about world domination? Check.
5. Villain with evil, raspy voices? Check.
6. Side plot of love interest? Check.
7. Awesome special EFX that make you go, "Oooh!" Check.
8. Explosive climax with sequel potential? Check.
Just disengage the logical part of your brain while you watch.
ETA: Thank you, Sophie!
1. Violence? Check.
2. Buff, good looking characters? Check.
3. Lots of things being blown up? Check.
4. Insane storyline about world domination? Check.
5. Villain with evil, raspy voices? Check.
6. Side plot of love interest? Check.
7. Awesome special EFX that make you go, "Oooh!" Check.
8. Explosive climax with sequel potential? Check.
Just disengage the logical part of your brain while you watch.
ETA: Thank you, Sophie!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Weavers and hunters
People's reaction to spiders are commonly primal: scream and run or scream and kill. Thankfully, I have never encountered (and God please may I never) spiders of such an awesome specimen as this (read the comments, it is worth your time). I would probably just stare at it and just ... stare. However, if I were this guy, I may adopt a different approach.
Perhaps along the lines buying an airline ticket and getting the hell out of Dodge. Or Japan as it seems.
*shudder*
Perhaps along the lines buying an airline ticket and getting the hell out of Dodge. Or Japan as it seems.
*shudder*
Monday, June 22, 2009
The many forms of beauty
You are only limited by the limitations you place upon yourself. I learn this from my friend who has spina bifida and went on to obtain a PhD in neuroscience and is now teaching and raising hell. With the advent of technology, the barriers that kept disabled people from moving on and up are disappearing. You have computers that can talk to aid the blind, better hearing aids and intervention to help the deaf and a slew of other innovations that can improve their quality of life and enjoyment.
In view of the can-do spirit, the China Disabled People’s Performing Art Troupe presented a magnificent performance of the Thousand Hand Guan Yin at the last Spring Festival. What amazing coordination and team work!
Enjoy.
In view of the can-do spirit, the China Disabled People’s Performing Art Troupe presented a magnificent performance of the Thousand Hand Guan Yin at the last Spring Festival. What amazing coordination and team work!
Enjoy.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Everybody Dance Now!
I love the idea of dancing. I love it so much that I took ballet classes for seven years. Not that I was any good; I am too lazy and too afraid of pain to make a proper commitment to dance. But I love to move to music, even if the movements are unpolished and uncoordinated. After all, I'm not earning a living from it am I? (Thank God.) My odd forays into the clubbing scene cemented this love; I just never got into it much due to practical reasons. Oh yeah. And also I am afraid of losing my hearing.
Children have an innate sense of rhythm and feels free to enjoy their exuberance of music, but we bred the enjoyment of dance out of them, especially the boys. Young males are brought up with the idea that dancing is for poofters and that it is unmanly. WRONG. Being a dancer is harder than being an athlete; you have daily training and conditioning, more punishing than many athletic regiment. Male dancers often lift weights; their movements require a great deal of strength. I love watching men dance; the symphony of their body and the beauty that they can express because of their strength is marvelous to behold.
Who could watch the old Fred Astaire movies and not wish that they could move like him?
I saw this on anniehow's LJ. She is right in how rewatching the video just kept the smile on her face. I think we were all born to dance. As we grow older, we grow more inhibited; we are scared of expressing ourselves with our body. We are too afraid of being thought foolish, we are too self-conscious of how other people perceive us. Watch this and see how delicious dancing can be, even if you are a stiff-kneed seventy year old.
Don't that look like fun? Next time you find your feet tapping to some beat, let your body flow along with the music. Who cares if you look like a reject from Dancing with the Stars? Just enjoy the endorphins.
Children have an innate sense of rhythm and feels free to enjoy their exuberance of music, but we bred the enjoyment of dance out of them, especially the boys. Young males are brought up with the idea that dancing is for poofters and that it is unmanly. WRONG. Being a dancer is harder than being an athlete; you have daily training and conditioning, more punishing than many athletic regiment. Male dancers often lift weights; their movements require a great deal of strength. I love watching men dance; the symphony of their body and the beauty that they can express because of their strength is marvelous to behold.
Who could watch the old Fred Astaire movies and not wish that they could move like him?
I saw this on anniehow's LJ. She is right in how rewatching the video just kept the smile on her face. I think we were all born to dance. As we grow older, we grow more inhibited; we are scared of expressing ourselves with our body. We are too afraid of being thought foolish, we are too self-conscious of how other people perceive us. Watch this and see how delicious dancing can be, even if you are a stiff-kneed seventy year old.
Don't that look like fun? Next time you find your feet tapping to some beat, let your body flow along with the music. Who cares if you look like a reject from Dancing with the Stars? Just enjoy the endorphins.
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