Med-journals in disguise

Medical magazines are a daunting read for anyone. Even those in the profession shy away from leafing through one of these in a waiting room (When was the last time you saw anything other than Men’s Health and Women’s Era in a hospital waiting room?) Therefore, tongue firmly in cheek, we decided to interview some faux-intellectuals in various professions and record their candid response prima facie to medical magazines disguised as devices of their own professions.

I: A Movie Critic chancing upon ‘Nature’ as a screenplay

“Nature” is an experience best expressed as the vision of a sightless man, briefly punctuated by a few moments of redeeming clarity, before it plunges once again into rambling exposition which drags the audience once more unto the maw of bewilderment. Such are the meager joys of this screenplay; I would say that it would be better to watch a man riding a horse 24-hours a day for the rest of his natural life, than experience “Nature” brought to life.

The incomprehensible plot is driven mainly by expository dialogue vaguely reminiscent of Christopher Nolan. The obvious influence of Quentin Tarantino is splattered over the pages. Although comparing the two is a grave disservice to the entire industry of movies. Even as Trumbo reminds us of the errors of blacklisting, here lies before me the very reason blacklisting was invented.

Not to freewheel off the point as Nature won’t do; Tarantino’s non-linear storylines, intensely graphic descriptions, as well as his inspired idea to segregate one story into various self-contained chapters have all been murdered by this travesty of a screenplay.

The chapters are mercifully short, but they join together like a Shakespearean play with a rap battle. None of the characters seem to be contained within all of these tales, except for the seemingly God-like control. Omnipresent and formless, this creature is a mystery I couldn’t bear reading the entire screenplay just to solve. However, it is the one redeeming quality of an otherwise generic, if terrible, so-called-script.

As for the graphic descriptions, this particular writer misses the mark completely, having taken the term literally. I admit, I am curious to see the method by which the copious amounts of data tables and charts are adapted to screen.

II: A Poet bamboozled by ‘Acta Orthopedica’ as an epic poem

There have been innumerable attempts by the modern poets to recapture the beauty contained within the verses of the bards of yore. I can say, with absolute certainty that I have chanced upon Milton’s successor, the spiritual descendant of Homer and Virgil themselves. This piece of art, entrenched itself upon my soul as has none other.

The very first line captured my imagination to no bounds, “Study on practice, Spinal registries”. Of course, to the detriment of the vision of the poet, there were some typographical errors. But the freedom of meter, the dancing rhythm of the syllables, and the nonsensical beginning open to interpretation is the heart and soul of this epic poem, written in true Carrollean fashion.

The poet does not descend to mundane jibber-jabber, instead utilizing words in a manner that makes no sense. I mean, could any sane man write “Exhibited a perivenular ring”, if not in allegory to the state of the world in these modern days, expressed by a deeper meaning beneath what seems like a man having a stroke?

What others of my profession would discard as balderdash, or ‘Not a poem obviously, you nincompoop’, I regard as a return of form for mankind to high poetry.

Article by:

Vivek Mahapatra

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