I’m just going to come out and say it - I unabashedly love this 2003 rendition of Peter Pan to bits. Everything from the casting and score, to the screenplay and special effects, comes together in a beautiful self-contained bundle of movie magic. Not a single frame or word is wasted, and yet is bursting at the seams with world-building and the hyper-detail of children’s imaginations. This adoration in itself was enough incentive to write this review, but my most recent viewing made me privy to entire layers of interpretation that I must’ve missed before. So let’s get into it!

Put together a few of my pieces in a “chronology” of sorts to visually impart the various stages of a psychedelic trip. YMMV :P

Between May and October 2017, The Global Challenges Foundation ran a competition requesting for proposals to improve the framework of global governance to meet the increasing stakes of the 21st century. I was happy to take part in this competition with a diverse and global team, submitting an idea which we call “ComplexCity”. I would like to share the executive summary of the idea with the Internet community, humbly requesting your consideration, feedback and suggestions.

I stand witness to what happened in Charlottesville in August 2017. I was compelled then, there was really no choice in the matter, to dedicate this poem to the brave woman who died preaching love for the fellow man.  

In a book entitled “Introduction to Lacan”, Slavoj Zizek tangentially refers to the ecological crisis of our time, and why we have been thus far unable to meaningfully engage with it. Specifically, he suggests that this failure can be explained by psychoanalysis. In this essay, I try to break the illusions of these faulty modes of response.

I’ve always had a strong affinity to language. Language is the one thing I’m most proficient in, and of late, most passionate about. But I’ve come to realise, just as language is a whip I wield, it is also the whip that tames me.

I consider myself a perfectionist. At face value, that is something to be proud of — to take pride in your work. But there are always hidden implications, and honestly these are extremely fatiguing. I needed a cure for all the second-guessing. And then I found not one, but three.

I chase a leaf blowing in the wind, a stray page from the land of lost endings. It sings an alto melancholy, of melodies that will never come into being.

One tale in particular beckons to me, with the easy charm of an old friend. It promises a timeless story, the only ending with no end.

Consider the notion of telepathy. What would that entail exactly? To communicate with another without the senses, a purely mental approach to communication. Suppose there are 2 hypothetical individuals in possession of mental modems capable of communicating with each other sans sensory means. Would they still use language, or would it be something more…visceral?

Blink. That pregnant moment of first light entering weak eyes. His first impression is that the world is upside down; as blood rushes to his head the newborn babe starts life with a splitting headache. Gasp and cue the high-pitched wails.