Posts Tagged by suicide
Euthanasia: legalisation to liberate Tony Nicklinson is right
| July 2, 2012 | Posted by Jeremy Dobson under national |
They have Tony Nicklinson on a technicality. At present, the difference between a lawful suicide and a killing is who delivers that final, irreversible push from the land of malady to no man’s land. A doctor would have to give Tony Nicklinson his final push to commit a rational consensual suicide; but that’s illegal. He hasn’t the physical capacity to end it himself because of his condition, except via starvation – a long process perhaps more painful than death or the locked-in syndrome brought about by a stroke that is his daily torturer. Any empathetic person can understand why Tony wants to end his life, or at least have the option rather than endure a future “[condemned] to a ‘life’ of… more
Around the world in 50 films: #7 Iran / #8 Mexico — Taste of Cherry / Japón (1997 / 2002)
| May 8, 2012 | Posted by Simon Brand under around the world in 50 films |
Kiarostami is arguably the most famous name in the Iranian New Wave. Having seen The Wind Will Carry Us previously, I was eager to see some of his other works and Taste of Cherry seemed as good a place to start as any. Why I chose Japón: I had originally planned to review one of Alejandro Jodorosky’s films, since they are mainly produced and made in Mexico. After watching Japón because I liked an image I saw of it online, I decided I would sneak Jodorosky in under Chile later, because this film needs to be better known. Iran has an exceptional and mature independent film industry, despite (or perhaps because of) the draconian restrictions placed on it. Kiarostami’s humanist style of cinema has thus far evaded the… more
Black Hole
| February 9, 2012 | Posted by Jess Kadow under creative writing |
A dark room appears from behind the slow, creaking swing of the door. Dull, yellow light illuminates a small portion of the wall on one side, emanating weakly from a faded lampshade, the original colour of which is unknown. Dirty, bare walls. No nostalgic, framed photographs of old memories or beloved family members. No cork boards littered with scraps of the past, no mirrors to reflect light around the room. Darkness prevails. In defiance, the ground lies cluttered with slivers of faded white: pages from ragged books, smashed glass glittering in the corners, splinters of white-washed wood. Scattered paper, torn at the edges, floats ghost-like across the dusty floor, disturbed by the breeze of fresh air from the outside. It… more
