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Robin Williams 1951 - 2014

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發表於 2014-8-12 16:19:54 | 顯示全部樓層 |閱讀模式
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 樓主| 發表於 2014-8-12 16:25:00 | 顯示全部樓層

Weapons of Self Destruction

from Weapons of Self Destruction, 2009
DAR Constitution Hall, Washington DC

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YouTube: http://youtu.be/DiCxqbT2Ru8

with 字幕
http://youtu.be/1JAH54TqixA

Parts 1 - 9
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v= ... =PL572410A8C8009A92

 樓主| 發表於 2014-8-12 19:23:56 | 顯示全部樓層
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On July 21, in what could be the last picture of the comedy giant, Robin Williams posted this photograph to Instagram on his birthday of himself and his Night at the Museum co-star, Crystal the monkey, who will also be familiar to viewers of the Hangover trilogy

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/ ... .html#ixzz3AAyUN352
 樓主| 發表於 2014-8-12 19:28:18 | 顯示全部樓層
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 樓主| 發表於 2014-8-13 16:59:08 | 顯示全部樓層
Russell Brand: Robin Williams’ divine madness will no longer disrupt the sadness of the world
The manic energy of Williams could turn to destruction as easily as creativity. Is it melancholy to think that a world that he can’t live in must be broken?

Russell Brand
The Guardian, Tuesday 12 August 2014 17.12 BST


‘I was aware that this burbling and manic man-child that I watched on the box on my Nan’s front room floor with a Mork action figure struggled with mental illness and addiction.’ Photograph: Everett Collection/Rex

I’d been thinking about Robin Williams a bit recently. His manager Larry Bresner told me that when Robin was asked by a German journalist on a press junket why the Germans had a reputation for humourlessness that Williams replied, “Because you killed all the funny people.”

Robin Williams was exciting to me because he seemed to be sat upon a geyser of comedy. Like he didn’t manufacture it laboriously within but had only to open a valve and it would come bursting through in effervescent jets. He was plugged into the mains of comedy.

I was aware too that this burbling and manic man-child that I watched on the box on my Nan’s front room floor with a Mork action figure (I wish I still had that, he came in a plastic egg) struggled with mental illness and addiction. The chaotic clarity that lashed like an electric cable, that razzed and sparked with amoral, puckish wonder was in fact harvested madness. A refinement of an energy that could turn as easily to destruction as creativity.

He spoke candidly about his mental illness and addiction, how he felt often on a precipice of self-destruction, whether through substance misuse or some act of more certain finality. I thought that this articulate acknowledgement amounted to a kind of vaccine against the return of such diseased thinking, which has proven to be hopelessly naive.

When someone gets to 63 I imagined, hoped, I suppose, that maturity would grant an immunity to adolescent notions of suicide but today I read that suicide isn’t exclusively a young man’s game. Robin Williams at 63 still hadn’t come to terms with being Robin Williams.

Now I am incapable of looking back at my fleeting meeting with him with any kind of objectivity, I am bound to apply, with hindsight, some special significance to his fragility, meekness and humility. Hidden behind his beard and kindness and compliments was a kind of awkwardness, like he was in the wrong context or element, a fallen bird on a hard floor.


Robin Williams in 2011. Photograph: Walter McBride/Corbis
It seems that Robin Williams could not find a context. Is that what drug use is? An attempt to anaesthetise against a reality that constantly knocks against your nerves, like tinfoil on an old school filling, the pang an urgent message to a dormant, truer you.

Is it melancholy to think that a world that Robin Williams can’t live in must be broken? To tie this sad event to the overarching misery of our times? No academic would co-sign a theory in which the tumult of our fractured and unhappy planet is causing the inherently hilarious to end their lives, though I did read that suicide among the middle-aged increased inexplicably in 1999 and has been rising ever since. Is it a condition of our era?

Poor Robin Williams, briefly enduring that lonely moment of morbid certainty where it didn’t matter how funny he was or who loved him or how many lachrymose obituaries would be written. I feel bad now that I was unduly and unbefittingly snooty about that handful of his films that were adjudged unsophisticated and sentimental. He obviously dealt with a pain that was impossible to render and ultimately insurmountable, the sentimentality perhaps an accompaniment to his childlike brilliance.

We sort of accept that the price for that free-flowing, fast-paced, inexplicable comic genius is a counterweight of solitary misery. That there is an invisible inner economy that demands a high price for breathtaking talent. For me genius is defined by that irrationality; how can he talk like that? Play like that? Kick a ball like that? A talent that was not sculpted and schooled, educated and polished but bursts through the portal, raw and vulgar. Always mischievous, always on the brink of going wrong, dangerous and fun, like drugs.

Robin Williams could have tapped anyone in the western world on the shoulder and told them he felt down and they would have told him not to worry, that he was great, that they loved him. He must have known that. He must have known his wife and kids loved him, that his mates all thought he was great, that millions of strangers the world over held him in their hearts, a hilarious stranger that we could rely on to anarchically interrupt, the all-encompassing sadness of the world. Today Robin Williams is part of the sad narrative that we used to turn to him to disrupt.

What platitudes then can we fling along with the listless, insufficient wreaths at the stillness that was once so animated and wired, the silence where the laughter was? That fame and accolades are no defence against mental illness and addiction? That we live in a world that has become so negligent of human values that our brightest lights are extinguishing themselves? That we must be more vigilant, more aware, more grateful, more mindful? That we can’t tarnish this tiny slice of awareness that we share on this sphere amidst the infinite blackness with conflict and hate?

That we must reach inward and outward to the light that is inside all of us? That all around us people are suffering behind masks less interesting than the one Robin Williams wore? Do you have time to tune in to Fox News, to cement your angry views to calcify the certain misery?

What I might do is watch Mrs Doubtfire. Or Dead Poets Society or Good Will Hunting and I might be nice to people, mindful today how fragile we all are, how delicate we are, even when fizzing with divine madness that seems like it will never expire.


發表於 2014-8-18 01:08:14 | 顯示全部樓層
本帖最後由 banana 於 2014-8-18 01:15 編輯
ifg 發表於 2014-8-12 16:25
from Weapons of Self Destruction, 2009
DAR Constitution Hall, Washington DC

1st & 3rd youtube videos on your list are now blocked by HBO.

The 2nd one with simplified Chinese subtitle is still around, but it isn't worth
your time watching at all !  The 1.5-hour so-called standup comedy is nothing more
than nonstop profanity + dirty sex, drugs, alcohol, and racial gags .....

As expected, Robin tried to crack quite a few political jokes too.  Yet, they are stale,
appear recycled, and sound very familiar especially if you like watching Jay Leno and/or
David Letterman shows every weekday evening back then.

One word sum it up :

His movies are far far better than his comedy shows.

講“棟篤笑”,黃子華好得多,Robin 呢d咸、粗、爛秀....收檔啦!
========================================

另外,ifg,welcome to the victims club of payment card fraud!

並請問 ifg: 你張被盜用的 credit card 是否要輸入 PIN # 去 authorize payment?

My Dad's credit card # (no chip, no PIN #, signature only) as well as my own
ATM bank card # (PIN # required) were stolen, counterfeited, and used by scoundrels
in the past.  I've always been very careful and covered up my fingers while entering
the authorization numbers.  Apparently, criminals have the know-how to capture
everything!     
 樓主| 發表於 2014-8-25 13:43:40 | 顯示全部樓層
banana 發表於 2014-8-18 01:08
1st & 3rd youtube videos on your list are now blocked by HBO.

The 2nd one with simplified Chinese  ...
ATM bank card # (PIN # required) were stolen, counterfeited, and used by scoundrels
in the past.  I've always been very careful and covered up my fingers while entering
the authorization numbers.


that meant they managed to hack into the bank's ATM database or it's an insider job.
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