I have held off saying anything evil about the Broadway musical Bombay Dreams, but that self-inflicted gag order ends now.

I have been biting my tongue for a week and a half. That has to do with the small fact that my wife forked over $148 for two discounted tickets; a pretty penny in these lean economic times.

Having succumbed to part folly, part pride, and perhaps equal parts guilt and curiosity, how could I come out of the theatre bemoaning an insipid plot line, smarmy lyrics and trite comedy? No, I had to put on a brave front, nod courteously to my neighbors in the same row who readily guffawed about how “great” it was and quietly slip out onto the curb of reality.

Is this the best that Andrew Lloyd Webber, Shekar Kapoor and A.R. Rahman could cook up? The musical touts itself as the “Feel Good Fantasy.” Neither did it feel good, nor was it a fantasy. Perhaps I am from that generation that could never sit still through a three hour Bollywood flick. The musical was nothing but a sophomoric attempt to deliver unconvincing lines in a setting injected with limp humor about sexual identies, class, caste and other with social inequities.

My advice to those of you usurped by the hype about this musical – save your cash! Buy your mother something nice instead. This was a waste of my time (and did I mention again, money) and so shall it be yours as well should you be tempted to check it out. However, as my wife exclaimed, in the musical's favor and providing it's only saving grace, the constumes and set designs were good.

Some may counter that this musical has opened up Western audiences to Indian culture. Pshaw! That's straight up ‘buckwaaz yaar.' I do know that you don't introduce cultures by subjecting a captured audience to some schmaltzy song-and-dance routine.

Some may even go the distance and suggest that a successful run in the US and UK will mean more such extravaganzas. I shudder when I think of such possibilities. Bollywood cranks out enough of these melodramas. So, why suffer through three popcorn-less hours of so-called entertainment on stiff over-priced seats in NY city when one could get a great big dose of masala in the relative comforts of one's own home?

Sholay, anyone?

Via Anil Dash

For those pursuing photography, writing, design or art, coypyright issues are at the very crux of our sustenance. Feel someone has ripped your work off and is passing it off as their own? Or, are you tempted to “spread the wealth” by swiping content to repurpose it? Whatever you do, stop!

Click here to learn the basics of copyright. You may want to bookmark that page, too. It's a long page, but an important one.

Anyone have an opinion about the Creative Commons project (that flies in the face of laws protecting copyrights)?

Take this quiz. Tell me how you did. No cheating allowed.

Another installment in New Internationalist via Shahidul Alam:

Iqbal Hossain had taken this picture in Dhaka Zoo in 2000. His statement related to the child in the photograph, a child he could relate to. “Often people cover their faces to protect themselves from the dust. But what mask will protect the sweepers?” Dadon, another member of their group “Out of Focus” felt a more personal statement should accompany the image.

Something he'd been told:

[While I was taking pictures a man remarked: “Look at the airs the shutkiwalla’s [dry-fish seller’s] son puts on.” That’s how my dad earned his living then. “A fish seller’s son, taking pictures, huh?”]

‘I remember clearly, when I’d be going out to take photographs, Dad would be in the streets, selling fish.’

More work by this fascinating group of children can be seen at ZoneZero and Drik.

I admit it may be a tad bit too late for this year's 4th of July, but Mark Goldstein at PhotographyBLOG has posted 10 links to photo sites that can show you how to capture fireworks on film or digital cards.

Perhaps, next year?