Fahim is a writer. Or, at least, he professes to be.
In all fairness, he probably is one. He’s got hundreds of newspaper and magazine articles in his repertoire, and he actually does have a novel circulating amongst agents, which is more than sad, pathetic me has. On the other hand, I’ve written more novels than he – I just haven’t finished mine.
Anyway, Fahim is a writer. His writing style is laid back, casual, run-on-sentency. Grammar and punctuation rules mean nothing to him. It gives me pains, at times, to read his stuff. :p Well, at least a little, anyway. Most of it is okay, and his novel is entertaining and funny, although I would have preferred to edit the hell out of it. His choice. :p
Anyway. Fahim came across a blog. An Indian blog. And he complained about the run-on-sentences and the change of topic and no punctuation and where did one thought end and another begin and what, no paragraphs and what the heck?
I, naturally, am surprised to hear complaints of this nature coming out of his mouth. So of course I had to check it out.
But seriously, any writer/ director who shows a tied up cow being flogged by tiny cloned leprechaun look-alikes incidentally played by one Deep Roy – and claims to make Whipped Cream out of it, needs to have his head examined. The makers further have the effrontery to expect such gore to elicit a laugh, out of primarily young viewers mind you, given its a childrens film after all. I vote that, if one has ego issues about having their heads professionally examined, a little soul-searching, or a little trip into the heart might work just as well.Hey, I want to make a film someday, and I respect cinematic liberty more than anyone can begin to understand the concept itself, but there has to be some respect for the line. Sure its hidden, and sometimes so thin that we cant even see it, as a friend of mine used to say, but there, it is. Sort of like a shining boundary, checking our goodness quotient as Willy Wonka set out to do in the Roald Dahl version. Cruelty to animals, capital punishment, and an abhorrently simplistic end, does not make up for life. Heck it does not even make up for a good bed time story for todays kids.
He, was only doing what he truly believed was the pulse of the times, and gave the masses what they want. Given the box office collections of the movie worldwide, his mettle needs lauding, if only to attempt a hand at Dahl if nothing else. That leaves us, the audiences. Remember what Ring – O Star said, Video Killed the Radio Star, Well then, thats the way the cookie crumbled; Cinema killed the Writings of Dahl. I hear the old version, titled, Willy Wonka and his Chocolate Factory, is not as bad. I think I am going to watch it and soon. Before I lose faith in the power of cinema, or give up on its many wonders, feeling let down by the unchecked, heartless fare that its self proclaimed caretakers, occasionally compels us to endure. This is my period of lent, waiting for resurrection, believing that one day the good shall rise from the seeming dead, and there shall indeed be light. After all, tomorrow is another day!
Seriously, add some paragraph breaks, please!
But no, she had punctuation, and her sentences didn’t go on for forever. I think what might have confused Fahim on that score is the fact that she has no spaces between her periods and the word beginning the next sentence. Yep, spaces are good.
Ah well. Can’t have everything in life, can we?