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The thing is, I'm a very practical filmmaker.

quote by Stanley Tucci
Added by Lucian Velea
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Culture Shock

(s. kipner/p. bliss)
Ive been trying to tell you
Ive been putting it off, putting it off
Cant wait any longer
Youve been good to me
And that only makes it harder
To say what I gotta say
You gotta know I didnt plan it
It was the last thing on my mind
How can you love two people at the same time?
Now I dont wanna lose you
But I cant give him up
I know its unconventional
Radical but practical
Why cant the three of us live together?
Its a culture shock
But its the only hope weve got
Tell me, why cant the three of us live together?
If I could go back and undo it
If I had a time machine
Id make it unhappen like a bad dream
But honey, you gotta know, I didnt plan it
It was the last thing on my mind
How can you love two people at the same time?
Now I dont wanna lose you
But I cant give him up
I know its unconventional
Radical but practical
Why cant the three of us live together?
Its a culture shock
But its the only hope weve got
So,tell me, why cant the three of us live together?
Youre not taking this too well
Its out of the question
I can tell
Its not gonna work, is it?
I know its unconventional
Radical but practical
I dont wanna lose you,no
But I not gonna give him up
Its a culture shock
But its the only hope weve got
Tell me, why cant the three of us live together?
I know its unconventional
Radical but practical

song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
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Song Of The Exposition

AFTER all, not to create only, or found only,
But to bring, perhaps from afar, what is already founded,
To give it our own identity, average, limitless, free;
To fill the gross, the torpid bulk with vital religious fire;
Not to repel or destroy, so much as accept, fuse, rehabilitate;
To obey, as well as command--to follow, more than to lead;
These also are the lessons of our New World;
--While how little the New, after all--how much the Old, Old World!

Long, long, long, has the grass been growing,
Long and long has the rain been falling, 10
Long has the globe been rolling round.

Come, Muse, migrate from Greece and Ionia;
Cross out, please, those immensely overpaid accounts,
That matter of Troy, and Achilles' wrath, and Eneas', Odysseus'
wanderings;
Placard "Removed" and "To Let" on the rocks of your snowy Parnassus;
Repeat at Jerusalem--place the notice high on Jaffa's gate, and on
Mount Moriah;
The same on the walls of your Gothic European Cathedrals, and German,
French and Spanish Castles;
For know a better, fresher, busier sphere--a wide, untried domain
awaits, demands you.

Responsive to our summons,
Or rather to her long-nurs'd inclination, 20
Join'd with an irresistible, natural gravitation,

She comes! this famous Female--as was indeed to be expected;
(For who, so-ever youthful, 'cute and handsome, would wish to stay in
mansions such as those,
When offer'd quarters with all the modern improvements,
With all the fun that 's going--and all the best society?)

She comes! I hear the rustling of her gown;
I scent the odor of her breath's delicious fragrance;
I mark her step divine--her curious eyes a-turning, rolling,
Upon this very scene.

The Dame of Dames! can I believe, then, 30
Those ancient temples classic, and castles strong and feudalistic,
could none of them restrain her?
Nor shades of Virgil and Dante--nor myriad memories, poems, old
associations, magnetize and hold on to her?
But that she 's left them all--and here?

Yes, if you will allow me to say so,

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
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But I did on projects that I produced, that I directed, that I acted in because it was important. I want to be a filmmaker. I don't want to be an actor who directs, I want to be a director. I want to be a filmmaker. So that's a big difference.

quote by Eriq La Salle
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I really took filmmaking very seriously... It was an honor and then a crutch also, because at a young age, I was like, I guess I'm a serious filmmaker. I never set out to be a serious filmmaker. I just set out to make movies.

quote by John Singleton
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The Practical Uses Of Poetry

Not to be practical, not
to mean, be, do,
no more than the wind
to insist upon itself, to
move like the wind,
like a disembodied intelligence
over the mindfields
practicing the twin disciplines
of light and rain,
scattering the mystic pollen
of intuitive seeds
that bloom like roseate fire
in the shadowless gardens of the abyss
arranging the cosmos like a wild bouquet
in the blood vase of the human heart.
To remind us
we're not fireflies or stars
stuck on a chromosome
of intellectual flypaper,
a buzzing that will stop,
but a passion of native iron
in the arms of alien oxygen,
urged into creative consummation
by carbon.
Free as water, free as God
the night she put the universe on
like make-up
to attend to the beginning of everything
with a cosmic efflorescence of fireworks,
to speak for the stones, the stars, the trees,
to say them into being,
to say us, to whisper us
into the enormity of her solitude,
the inconceivability of her darkness,
a secret she couldn't keep anymore.
Experience is a child playing,
not function, not a job, not a career.
What's practical about singing alone
because the mysterious nightbird
has come like a blossom of joy
to the bough of the tree in winter?
Or must dancing have a use,
music be enchained to the stone ear of utility?
Bleeding isn't very practical either
but how would you ever know
you were a rose scarred by your own thorns
if you didn't?
Sooner renounce the sweetness
of the star-flavoured summer night air
or teach the wind a compass and a map,

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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Having A Good Time

Me and my buddies were going to get drunk
Were going to go out on the town
Well be checking it out, slipping it in
And stepping out of line
You know everybody likes to get a little crazy
In their own particular way
But my buddies and I we go over the top
And were going over again today
Well be having a good time
Passing the by-line
Having a good time
You know its a rock and roll pastime
It might be typical, topical or maybe tropical
That doesnt mean anything
If youre political, practical
Then its improbable, that you do anything
But me and my buddies we like to go crazy
We like to go over the hill
Hey, woman will you be there, because my buddies and I will
Having a good time
Passing the by-line
Well be having a good time
Its a rock and roll pastime
Hey, snowy...play a bit for me
That was snowy white
And he likes err...it in the night
The next to play
I must say, is scott gorham
And away...
Well be having a good time
Passing the by-line
Having a good time
Its a rock and roll pastime
Lets play that one more time
Hit me with that drum brian
Hit me as hard as you can
Oh yes, thats they way I like it
Do it again, do it again, lets do it again
Having a good time
Oh yes I like this
Having a good time
Typical, topical, who cares?
Having a good time
Political, practical, impossible
Having a good time
Dont ask me why jack?
Having a good time
Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho!
Having a good time
Having a wild time

[...] Read more

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Well, first of all, we did lots of studies where we show practical intelligence doesn't correlate with G. We have probably two dozen studies that practical intelligence better predicts job success than IQ.

quote by Robert Sternberg
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What practical conclusions may we now draw for our propaganda work among women? The task of this Party Congress must not be to issue detailed practical suggestions, but to draw up general directions for the proletarian women's movement.

quote by Clara Zetkin
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Practical people would be more practical if they would take a little more time for dreaming.

quote by J.P. McEvoy
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The moral and spiritual aspects of both personal and international relationships have a practical bearing which so-called practical men deny.

quote by Henry A. Wallace
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I do believe that most men live lives of quiet desperation. For despair, optimism is the only practical solution. Hope is practical. Because eliminate that and it's pretty scary. Hope at least gives you the option of living.

quote by Harry Nilsson
Added by Lucian Velea
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In other words, the better they did on the IQ test, the worse they did on the practical test and the better they did on the practical tests, the worse they did on the IQ test.

quote by Robert Sternberg
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Second Book

TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long
As even to snatch my bonnet by the strings,
But, brushing a green trail across the lawn
With my gown in the dew, took will and way
Among the acacias of the shrubberies,
To fly my fancies in the open air
And keep my birthday, till my aunt awoke
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I murmured on,
As honeyed bees keep humming to themselves;
'The worthiest poets have remained uncrowned
Till death has bleached their foreheads to the bone,
And so with me it must be, unless I prove
Unworthy of the grand adversity,–
And certainly I would not fail so much.
What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day
In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it,
Before my brows be numb as Dante's own
To all the tender pricking of such leaves?
Such leaves? what leaves?'
I pulled the branches down,
To choose from.
'Not the bay! I choose no bay;
The fates deny us if we are overbold:
Nor myrtle–which means chiefly love; and love
Is something awful which one dare not touch
So early o' mornings. This verbena strains
The point of passionate fragrance; and hard by,
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.
Ah–there's my choice,–that ivy on the wall,
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The ten commandments of communication

The ten commandments of communication

Verify your ideas before clarification, as to whether the contents of your
communication will really serve the purpose of your communication. Consult others, where appropriate, the communication plan. This will help you decide the audience-based right content, flow, duration and location.

Make clear to the audience the true purpose of communication. Make it known to the audience as to what you want them to do after receiving the inputs from you. It can be just an act, can be an attitudinal change, can be drawing a strategy or plan of action.

Ensure you are in the right set of environment for the communication.
Communication is not effected just by words and gestures, but also by the quality of place where you communicate.

Take into confidence your audience. Encourage them to come out with their experience in the subject of communication. Accordingly polish your ways.

Be sure where to emphasize and where to dilute. Check yourself the
overtones and emphasis on messages conveyed, as audience may not notice.

Avoid being theoretical all through. Give practical examples. Enthuse
audience to come out with problems, connected with the subject and offer, if possible, practical solutions.

Follow up with what you communicate. Ensure audience is with you through the entire communication. Give no impression that you are evaluating their ability to absorb.

Demonstrate that you practice what you preach. Your past experiences may come handy.

Communicate for tomorrow, based on previous learning, enabling the audience visualize new horizons on the subject of communication.

Last, but not the least, seek not to be understood, but to understand. Be a good listener too.

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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A home with grandma

Not all the homes are lucky to have grandmother
Children love grandma even more than mother
They have less attachment with the father
Grandma is all the time there to bother

She is generous and vast sea of affection
Al children are taken of with full care and attention
Grandma is such personality at home that needs no mention
She is there for all practical purpose for any prevention

She may guide us as to how the things are to be passed of or gone
Nothing escapes from her mind as it is practically performed or done
She has no forgone conclusions but with practical remedy
She also offers us stories with so much truth in comedy

Grandmamma remains so much healthy and stout
She has seen the ages with experience and knows all about
She has passed off all the storms at ease
She has now the big task to get it released

It is always nice to find elderly woman in home
She is protective cover for all the times to come
She is there to entertain us with all the dignity
The home is fine place to find her with all the qualities

What else can we expect from lovable grandma?
She moves in home with all her stamina
Sometimes we feel shame to walk with her
She complains about nothing and makes us to bother

It is honor to address her as grandma
She is no less important than papa
It is our luck that we have somebody to look after
The life would have turned us into miser

She is source of towering strength and inspiration
She is sought after by all children and asks for narration
She may have all the stories to be told with great effect
It is her gorgeous part that instills the confidence and will power to act

All the children are good listener
She is preferred to and remains as great admirer
It is easy to make joke or laugh it out
Dignity and personal honor is all about

It is honor and simple craze
Elderly women are considered in good phrase
Concealment of age makes it difficult and not easy
Still grandma remain at help of affairs and makes it rosy

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Growth of Sym

Now Sym was a Glug; and 'tis mentioned so
That the tale reads perfectly plain as we go.
In his veins ran blood of that stupid race
Of docile folk, who inhabit the place
Called Gosh, sad Gosh, where the tall trees sigh
With a strange, significant sort of cry
When the gloaming creeps and the wind is high.

When the deep shades creep and the wind is high
The trees bow low as the gods ride by:
Gods of the gloaming, who ride on the breeze,
Stooping to heaften the birds and the trees.
But each dull Glug sits down by his door,
And mutters, ' 'Tis windy!' and nothing more,
Like the long-dead Glugs in the days of yore.

When Sym was born there was much to-do,
And his parents thought him a joy to view;
But folk not prejudiced saw the Glug,
As his nurse remarked, 'In the cut of his mug.'
For he had their hair, and he had their eyes,
And the Glug expression of pained surprise,
And their predilection for pumpkin pies.

And his parents' claims were a deal denied
By his maiden aunt on his mother's side,
A tall Glug lady of fifty-two
With a slight moustache of an auburn hue.
'Parental blither!' she said quite flat.
'He's an average Glug; and he's red and fat!
And exceedingly fat and red at that!'

But the father, joi, when he gazed on Sym,
Dreamed great and wonderful things for him.
Said he, 'If the mind of a Glug could wake
Then, Oh, what a wonderful Glug he'd make!
We shall teach this laddie to play life's game
With a different mind and a definite aim:
A Glug in appearance, yet not the same.'

But the practical aunt said, 'Fudge! You fool!
We'll pack up his dinner and send him to school.
He shall learn about two-times and parsing and capes,
And how to make money with inches on tapes.
We'll apprentice him then to the drapery trade,
Where, I've heard it reported, large profits are made;
Besides, he can sell us cheap buttons and braid.'

So poor young Sym, he was sent to school,
Where the first thing taught is the Golden Rule.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Walk along with me

Son, join and walk along with me
Even though it may not be interesting and free
Still I must bring it to your mind and reveal
What we have in home today is not real!

You are unaware of certain practical things
We have involved in many shoddy deals to get something
For our bright future and making it towards betterment
To enjoy it with you all and make happy moments

You are quite intelligent and may grasp it easily
Why I am dwelling at length and happily?
No one is sure of tomorrow and I am no exception
Nothing should be left behind with burning questions

I shall speak to you with practical angle
Life may be posed with so many triangles
You may have to deal it with sense of real man
As it may have to witness different approach as human

Nothing comes in hand without hard struggle
Life may be difficult and full of troubles
Yet I must advise you not to get disturbed and loose the hope
There is steep rise of the hill with dangerous slopes

I looked around to see son and to my dismay found him away
He had seen some children playing and found his way
He was free from all worries as I had just imaginedd
He was yet not a fully grown man and trained

I cut a sorry figure and looked toward sky
There was nothing more to think of and ask why
You can’t forecast forcible future today and plan
As there may be enough of water in pond for swan

We need not worry much about tomorrow
As I had taken enough of precaution now
It is possible nothing may turn out wrong
Yet the eventuality can’t be tackled for a song

It is nice to reveal to all the family members
They must, if not all, but certain things to remember
Hard work and strategy planned in advance does not fail
Only best efforts must be put and chance availed

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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True Love and ACTION; Love Is Deed (How To Truely LOVE a HERO)

To Manal Saigh: my niece who inspired me
to put my feelings about 'Cartoon Crisis' into words:

Ah me! LOVE
Is a sensitive,
And such
A delicate being;
It is a flower
In need for a shower
Of many a thing:
Words and care,
Not only gazing;
Though gazing
Is so glowing
And nourishing
For LOVE,
But it is only so
In the very beginning.

Love is a rare lilac
That needs careful
Occasional watering,
It is a red dewy rose,
Whose petal
You can't nail,
But certainly touch
Love is a playful cuddly
Fluffy kitten;
She loves kissing and hugging,
Love needs dialogue
Not argument,
Love is clarity;
It is not a game of power,
Or exchanging hints,
The winner is the loosing one
For love can not live
If one is always initiative
And the other in the receiving end;
One acts and the other
Reacts to what he gets,
The one who speaks
Will go dumb
In the long run.

Love needs constant
Nourishment for
Its soul, heart,
Mind and Flesh,
Needs genuine care;

[...] Read more

poem by Nadia Abduljabbar
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Soyinka In The House Of My Father

'And gradually they're beginning to recognize the fact that there's nothing more secure than a democratic, accountable, and participatory form of government. But it's sunk in only theoretically, it has not yet sunk in completely in practical terms.'

on practical terms
the neighbors are
still selfish with their
words and works

deep in their hearts
they never like
the democracy
that you are giving
them: they still like
to be violent and
kill whoever blocks
their way to their
churches and
houses and
cinemas and
gambling dens

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Fable For Critics

Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,
For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,
She took to the tree to escape his pursuing;
Be the cause what it might, from his offers she shrunk,
And, Ginevra-like, shut herself up in a trunk;
And, though 'twas a step into which he had driven her,
He somehow or other had never forgiven her;
Her memory he nursed as a kind of a tonic,
Something bitter to chew when he'd play the Byronic,
And I can't count the obstinate nymphs that he brought over
By a strange kind of smile he put on when he thought of her.
'My case is like Dido's,' he sometimes remarked;
'When I last saw my love, she was fairly embarked
In a laurel, as _she_ thought-but (ah, how Fate mocks!)
She has found it by this time a very bad box;
Let hunters from me take this saw when they need it,-
You're not always sure of your game when you've treed it.
Just conceive such a change taking place in one's mistress!
What romance would be left?-who can flatter or kiss trees?
And, for mercy's sake, how could one keep up a dialogue
With a dull wooden thing that will live and will die a log,-
Not to say that the thought would forever intrude
That you've less chance to win her the more she is wood?
Ah! it went to my heart, and the memory still grieves,
To see those loved graces all taking their leaves;
Those charms beyond speech, so enchanting but now,
As they left me forever, each making its bough!
If her tongue _had_ a tang sometimes more than was right,
Her new bark is worse than ten times her old bite.'

Now, Daphne-before she was happily treeified-
Over all other blossoms the lily had deified,
And when she expected the god on a visit
('Twas before he had made his intentions explicit),
Some buds she arranged with a vast deal of care,
To look as if artlessly twined in her hair,
Where they seemed, as he said, when he paid his addresses,
Like the day breaking through, the long night of her tresses;
So whenever he wished to be quite irresistible,
Like a man with eight trumps in his hand at a whist-table
(I feared me at first that the rhyme was untwistable,
Though I might have lugged in an allusion to Cristabel),-
He would take up a lily, and gloomily look in it,
As I shall at the--, when they cut up my book in it.

Well, here, after all the bad rhyme I've been spinning,
I've got back at last to my story's beginning:
Sitting there, as I say, in the shade of his mistress,
As dull as a volume of old Chester mysteries,

[...] Read more

poem by James Russell Lowell
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