Check both of these out: they're hilarious. I've started using StumbleUpon to get me a few minutes of entertainment during the few breaks from work I take.
and then this.
Also, you might want to check out Ali G on youtube.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Writer's Block
Ok. So i don't know what to write about.
Bear with me for a few moments and I will eventually come up with something enlightening for you to ponder the rest of your adult life considering that's how long it will take you to figure out what I have said in the few sentences that I decide to spew in a despearate yet clear-cut means of washing away the boredom that is eating away at my well known and well respected sense of humour; the very faculty that I put to maximum use when I want to while away a few hours of my life and several days of yours, given that we agreed at the beginning of this sentence that you would take more time than the average chipmunk to understand the verbal barrage that I am about to dispense in your general direction as part of my above mentioned desire to kill some time and some gray cells in that pathetic excuse for a brain that you carry around in your vaccuumed cranial cavity in a mind numbingly stupid excercise to appear moderately intelligent and/or sentient just to appease the increasing number of pseudo-intellectuals in todays society.
I could have gone on and on but I thought better of it. As I am typing this entry out of sheer boredom, it is with the deepest disdain that I see George Bush on TV making some speech about Vietnam and the war and basically kissing up to the war-vets populace of America. The worst part of it is that other people in this lounge are discussing this like it's the latest fashion innerwear sported by Gisele.
I am already spotting the typical signs of a person "getting involved" in a discussion. THe characteristic sitting on the edge of their seat, with their chins supported by their elbows staring at their co-discusser like they give a fragrant rats ass about what they're saying. This is what I call 'sounding the well. Sounding the well is the technique by which two or more idiots are involved in simultaneously trying to determine the stupidity of another person just by pretending to listen to them. People are so petty.
If I seem to be particularly cynical today, well, I have a reason. And I'll be damned if I sit and explain everything out to you. Suffice to say that I have been wronged yet again, by that supreme entity people refer to as God. Just on a sidetrack, the weather woman on CNN is really beginning to irritate me. Not only is she prancing about the screen as these fuzzy 'satellite' images flash behind her. In a tribute to her obvious mediocrity, her name is Oke. All she has done so far, is make faces and squeeze her fists together while telling us the the Hurricane Dean is decimating Mexico.
This reminds me of something that I read during the landmark Sanjay Dutt case a few weeks ago. The judge in the case had classified ALL the accused in the case into three distinct categories. The first being peripheral, the second being minor and the third being serious offences. Having thus clearly demarcated three groups, ostensibly to classify the accused more easily, he then proceeded to state that Sanjay Dutt fell somewhere between a peripheral and a minor offender. Now, this is when I decideded to take a bludgeon to his brain. People are idiots. It's as if nothing they say makes sense for more than 5 minutes after the words have escaped the intense gravitational pull of the black hole that is their face.
To further drive home this point, I am going to take the example of Michael Vick. he's just admitted to staging dogfights in his neighbourhood. He's ADMITTED that he's guilty. Yet CNN has an hour long programme involving Legal Analysts and a Radio Host(?!). For What?! The man has already admitted his guilt. Leave him be and get on with it. Don't you have some more deformed kids and mutilated people to show, since that is what qualifies as 'hard-hitting' news?
I can't take this anymore. I quit.
Bear with me for a few moments and I will eventually come up with something enlightening for you to ponder the rest of your adult life considering that's how long it will take you to figure out what I have said in the few sentences that I decide to spew in a despearate yet clear-cut means of washing away the boredom that is eating away at my well known and well respected sense of humour; the very faculty that I put to maximum use when I want to while away a few hours of my life and several days of yours, given that we agreed at the beginning of this sentence that you would take more time than the average chipmunk to understand the verbal barrage that I am about to dispense in your general direction as part of my above mentioned desire to kill some time and some gray cells in that pathetic excuse for a brain that you carry around in your vaccuumed cranial cavity in a mind numbingly stupid excercise to appear moderately intelligent and/or sentient just to appease the increasing number of pseudo-intellectuals in todays society.
I could have gone on and on but I thought better of it. As I am typing this entry out of sheer boredom, it is with the deepest disdain that I see George Bush on TV making some speech about Vietnam and the war and basically kissing up to the war-vets populace of America. The worst part of it is that other people in this lounge are discussing this like it's the latest fashion innerwear sported by Gisele.
I am already spotting the typical signs of a person "getting involved" in a discussion. THe characteristic sitting on the edge of their seat, with their chins supported by their elbows staring at their co-discusser like they give a fragrant rats ass about what they're saying. This is what I call 'sounding the well. Sounding the well is the technique by which two or more idiots are involved in simultaneously trying to determine the stupidity of another person just by pretending to listen to them. People are so petty.
If I seem to be particularly cynical today, well, I have a reason. And I'll be damned if I sit and explain everything out to you. Suffice to say that I have been wronged yet again, by that supreme entity people refer to as God. Just on a sidetrack, the weather woman on CNN is really beginning to irritate me. Not only is she prancing about the screen as these fuzzy 'satellite' images flash behind her. In a tribute to her obvious mediocrity, her name is Oke. All she has done so far, is make faces and squeeze her fists together while telling us the the Hurricane Dean is decimating Mexico.
This reminds me of something that I read during the landmark Sanjay Dutt case a few weeks ago. The judge in the case had classified ALL the accused in the case into three distinct categories. The first being peripheral, the second being minor and the third being serious offences. Having thus clearly demarcated three groups, ostensibly to classify the accused more easily, he then proceeded to state that Sanjay Dutt fell somewhere between a peripheral and a minor offender. Now, this is when I decideded to take a bludgeon to his brain. People are idiots. It's as if nothing they say makes sense for more than 5 minutes after the words have escaped the intense gravitational pull of the black hole that is their face.
To further drive home this point, I am going to take the example of Michael Vick. he's just admitted to staging dogfights in his neighbourhood. He's ADMITTED that he's guilty. Yet CNN has an hour long programme involving Legal Analysts and a Radio Host(?!). For What?! The man has already admitted his guilt. Leave him be and get on with it. Don't you have some more deformed kids and mutilated people to show, since that is what qualifies as 'hard-hitting' news?
I can't take this anymore. I quit.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Cleavage? No Thanks.
I'm probably the only guy in the world who looked at a womans cleavage and decided that he was better off sticking his head underwater for several perilous moments, while a surgeon performs a routine rectal examination, than look. The cleavage in question belonged to Khusboo. (I am going to take liberties with spelling her name.)
The whole incident took place when I was watching a show called Jackpot, a "quiz" show that Khusbu "anchors" where the "answers" are "results" from a "buplic survey". Each time you encounter the double quotes, take a breath, slow down and enunciate the word enclosed; then proceed. Anyway, Khoosboo was wearing a sari the color of which I don't remember and don't intend to since the very recollection of that image might burn a permanent hole in my brain. As Khoosbu turned to face the "board", there was a blinding flash of light, an Aurora Borealis if you will, that blinded me. Yes, the cleavage I saw was from her back!
This is something that occurs only "down south" - boy I hate that term. It always seems that the actresses who start off model slim and sexy, suddenly gain weight as they gain popularity. It's as if they EAT their fans. Look at the list of people here - Rambha, Mumtaz, Ramya Krishnan, Khusboo, Nayantara, Jyotika, the list is endless. Some of these "actresses" have started to wise up and tone down, but most of them are happy to be round. I purposely left out Namitha from this list becuase she does not come under "fat". Oh no, she is waaaay too big to be called just "fat". Namitha is like the Parliament to the Qutab Minar, she's like the rose to a reed, a brick to a stick, and so many more such irrelevant comparisons. What I'm struggling to say, I think, is that her vastness is so vast (for lack of a better word), that it encompasses all that is green and blue and red and magenta and fluorescent and cream and purple and orange and oh so many more colors. It's incredible watching her move her ponderous excuse for a body from one jilted pose to another in that pathetic motion she calls dance.
Look at the actresses in Bollywood. Most of them are smokin' hot! And they take pains to stay that way. They make sure that even if they are a little plump, atleast they maintain a shape that can be likened to a desirable female form.
This post is completely worthless in the face of current hotties like Shriya and the now-oh-so-slim Nayantara. I sincerely thank Messrs Rajnikanth and Shankar for bringing such joy into our lives. Joy mixed with the purity of love and uninhibited lust. Peace.
The whole incident took place when I was watching a show called Jackpot, a "quiz" show that Khusbu "anchors" where the "answers" are "results" from a "buplic survey". Each time you encounter the double quotes, take a breath, slow down and enunciate the word enclosed; then proceed. Anyway, Khoosboo was wearing a sari the color of which I don't remember and don't intend to since the very recollection of that image might burn a permanent hole in my brain. As Khoosbu turned to face the "board", there was a blinding flash of light, an Aurora Borealis if you will, that blinded me. Yes, the cleavage I saw was from her back!
This is something that occurs only "down south" - boy I hate that term. It always seems that the actresses who start off model slim and sexy, suddenly gain weight as they gain popularity. It's as if they EAT their fans. Look at the list of people here - Rambha, Mumtaz, Ramya Krishnan, Khusboo, Nayantara, Jyotika, the list is endless. Some of these "actresses" have started to wise up and tone down, but most of them are happy to be round. I purposely left out Namitha from this list becuase she does not come under "fat". Oh no, she is waaaay too big to be called just "fat". Namitha is like the Parliament to the Qutab Minar, she's like the rose to a reed, a brick to a stick, and so many more such irrelevant comparisons. What I'm struggling to say, I think, is that her vastness is so vast (for lack of a better word), that it encompasses all that is green and blue and red and magenta and fluorescent and cream and purple and orange and oh so many more colors. It's incredible watching her move her ponderous excuse for a body from one jilted pose to another in that pathetic motion she calls dance.
Look at the actresses in Bollywood. Most of them are smokin' hot! And they take pains to stay that way. They make sure that even if they are a little plump, atleast they maintain a shape that can be likened to a desirable female form.
This post is completely worthless in the face of current hotties like Shriya and the now-oh-so-slim Nayantara. I sincerely thank Messrs Rajnikanth and Shankar for bringing such joy into our lives. Joy mixed with the purity of love and uninhibited lust. Peace.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Yahoo Boo Hoo
Yahoo! has got to go. I mean it. It must leave this dimension and pursue economic glory in a parallel universe. One where Google does not exist. This is my advice to Yahoo's 'executives'.
Why you ask?
Reason 1:
Yahoo Mail Beta sucks. It uses more bandwidth than ever and provides a Microsoft Outlook Express look and feel that frankly reminds me of my Windows 3.11 days. It has its own share of login issues, mail selection problems and more.
Reason 2:
Yahoo Photos is closing down. Gee whiz! That's a new one! Yahoo decides to close shop on one of their premier features. This is what they have to say about it.
Yahoo-
Yahoo 360 can suck ostrich eggs. I have never used it and I never will. I don't need to see my e-mail and weather report together.
Reason 4:
Yahoo's spam filter is so efficient that it expertly directs all spam to my Inbox. I regularly receive e-mails about prostate gland enlargement, breast augmentation and wait-for-it car rentals! The only thing I have done in Yahoo for the last 6 months is enter, select all my e-mail and mark as spam.
Reason 5:
They're still focusing on Upgrading their services when all they need to do is Improve them. Those who don't understand the difference can take a hike unless they're female and pretty in which case, I will be more than happy to give you a free ride home.
Reason 6:
I hate their anti-phishing filter. That stupid picture there that does not let me save my yahoo user name and password on my computer so it can be easily filled in. Stupid, stupid thing. In fact, it's so stupid, it's probably stuphid.
Reason 7:
Google kicks ass! All over the place. Whether its Gmail, Picasa or Orkut. All google services totally kick Yahoo's butt on Yahoo Mail Beta (LAME), Flickr (WHAT?!) or Gazzag (Jeezus!).
The only place Yahoo rocks is with their messenger. Y! Messenger kicks booty. They might as well shut down all Yahoo services and create a chat room only website.
Why you ask?
Reason 1:
Yahoo Mail Beta sucks. It uses more bandwidth than ever and provides a Microsoft Outlook Express look and feel that frankly reminds me of my Windows 3.11 days. It has its own share of login issues, mail selection problems and more.
Reason 2:
Yahoo Photos is closing down. Gee whiz! That's a new one! Yahoo decides to close shop on one of their premier features. This is what they have to say about it.
Yahoo-
For some time now we’ve supported two great photo sharing services, Yahoo! Photos and Flickr. But even good things come to an end, and we’ve decided to focus all our efforts on Flickr – the award winning photo sharing site that Time Magazine has even called “completely addictive.”The Bullshit Translator-
We're losing to Google's Picasa!!! Boo Hoo!! We don't know what to do!! So we're hoping systematically shutting down our services and leaving you in the lurch is the best alternative to spending time and money improving our services.Yahoo-
You may have used Yahoo! Photos in a few of other Yahoo! products, including favorites like Yahoo! Mail, Yahoo! Messenger, 360°, Mobile Web, etc. Unfortunately Yahoo! Photos features in these services will be phased out of these products in the coming months.The Bullshit Translator-
If we go down, we're taking everybody with us.Reason 3:
Yahoo 360 can suck ostrich eggs. I have never used it and I never will. I don't need to see my e-mail and weather report together.
Reason 4:
Yahoo's spam filter is so efficient that it expertly directs all spam to my Inbox. I regularly receive e-mails about prostate gland enlargement, breast augmentation and wait-for-it car rentals! The only thing I have done in Yahoo for the last 6 months is enter, select all my e-mail and mark as spam.
Reason 5:
They're still focusing on Upgrading their services when all they need to do is Improve them. Those who don't understand the difference can take a hike unless they're female and pretty in which case, I will be more than happy to give you a free ride home.
Reason 6:
I hate their anti-phishing filter. That stupid picture there that does not let me save my yahoo user name and password on my computer so it can be easily filled in. Stupid, stupid thing. In fact, it's so stupid, it's probably stuphid.
Reason 7:
Google kicks ass! All over the place. Whether its Gmail, Picasa or Orkut. All google services totally kick Yahoo's butt on Yahoo Mail Beta (LAME), Flickr (WHAT?!) or Gazzag (Jeezus!).
The only place Yahoo rocks is with their messenger. Y! Messenger kicks booty. They might as well shut down all Yahoo services and create a chat room only website.
Priceless
1 gong ringer - 100 rupees
2 pooja bell ringers - 200 rupees
6 bell ringers - 600 rupees
70 devotees - 7000 rupees.
Finding out the godman in front of you works as a tailor on Mondays and Fridays - Priceless
2 pooja bell ringers - 200 rupees
6 bell ringers - 600 rupees
70 devotees - 7000 rupees.
Finding out the godman in front of you works as a tailor on Mondays and Fridays - Priceless
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Lee-thal. Dead-ly
How's this for a movie story.
1. Quiet boy.
2. Noisy girl.
3. Cliched Politician villain.
4. Subdued boy actually has deep feelings of love for number 2 and vengeance for number 3.
5. Girl falls in love with boy.
6. Boy shoots at politician. Fails to penetrate bulletproof glass. Does a super rotating kick.
7. Intermission.
8. Flashback mode
9. Boy part of soccer team that is denied entry to district level games.
10. Boy and team strung up along a goal post like stuck pigs.
11. Coach valiantly defends them against a soccer ball kicked by the chuckling villian penalty style.
12. Coach dies.
13. Boy cries.
14. Boy kidnaps ministers son, loses him and gets his best friend killed.
15. Turns out Boy had tape of minister spewing anti-social comments all along.
16. Releases to press. Everyone happy except villain.
This is the story of Lee Engira Leelatharan. How do I explain how much I regretted watching this? It was like getting a screw turned into your brain, slowly. Every scene the screw went tighter,until at the end all that was left was one big chunk of your brain on the floor.
Lee:
() () () () () - I would give it a few more asses, but then 5's the limit. Hopeless.
1. Quiet boy.
2. Noisy girl.
3. Cliched Politician villain.
4. Subdued boy actually has deep feelings of love for number 2 and vengeance for number 3.
5. Girl falls in love with boy.
6. Boy shoots at politician. Fails to penetrate bulletproof glass. Does a super rotating kick.
7. Intermission.
8. Flashback mode
9. Boy part of soccer team that is denied entry to district level games.
10. Boy and team strung up along a goal post like stuck pigs.
11. Coach valiantly defends them against a soccer ball kicked by the chuckling villian penalty style.
12. Coach dies.
13. Boy cries.
14. Boy kidnaps ministers son, loses him and gets his best friend killed.
15. Turns out Boy had tape of minister spewing anti-social comments all along.
16. Releases to press. Everyone happy except villain.
This is the story of Lee Engira Leelatharan. How do I explain how much I regretted watching this? It was like getting a screw turned into your brain, slowly. Every scene the screw went tighter,until at the end all that was left was one big chunk of your brain on the floor.
Lee:
() () () () () - I would give it a few more asses, but then 5's the limit. Hopeless.
Simplifly? No no, SimpliDIE
I flew Air Deccan again this time. It seems like they haven't read my blog from last time's trip. Maybe I should mail Captain Gopinath and tell him his airway sucks big time. I meant the airline, not his nasal pathways.
I got my bag x-rayed before checking in and it was clear. I checked in, and I asked for a seat in the front of the plane. "Free seating" was the reply I got. I started shaking in my boots. My brain had already translated the airport euphemism Free Seating into its real world equivalent of "Every man for himself" That meant a mad rush for seats when boarding began! Seriously, how much does it cost to make a seating plan? How lazy are these bums?!
Not as lazy as the man in charge of the X-Ray machine apparently. When I went for security check-in I was stopped because I had a set of screwdrivers in my bag. I couldn't take that on as hand baggage. Then why wasn't I stopped at the damn entrance?! I would have checked the bag in damn you!
It gets worse. The rush for seats was like the rush at Pothy's during a 50 percent sale. Or Saravana Stores during a 10 percent sale. After struggling to get into the plane, I was able to find a seat that i found "mildly" comfortable. There wasn't a push back! When I asked the flight attendant why there was no push back, she said "because there is no push back". Almost immediately, a warm glow of enlightenment dawned upon me, so bright that the passengers around me had to shield their eyes with their air-sickness bags.
It did not help much, that the pilot was American or something and had an accent only a mutated frog could understand. He was making small talk about possible turbulence and I was making small talk about his corpulence. We might have become good friends someday. Who knows?
The following is the entire conversation between the passenger next to me, and the air hostess when they came to serve "food". I use the term food very loosely here since most of the stuff they served seemed suspicious.
Man: "What do you serve?"
Flight Attendant: "Sir, Juice and Sandwich"
Man: "Do you have orange juice?"
FA: "Yes sir"
(She hands him a Guava Juice at this point)
FA: "Here you go Sir"
Man: "There is no orange juice"
FA: "Yes sir, guava juice"
Man: "...."
Me: "There doesn't seem to be any orange juice."
Man: "Orange juice"
FA: "Yes sir, orange juice"
FA: "Here's your guava sir."
Man: "...."
I rest my case.
I got my bag x-rayed before checking in and it was clear. I checked in, and I asked for a seat in the front of the plane. "Free seating" was the reply I got. I started shaking in my boots. My brain had already translated the airport euphemism Free Seating into its real world equivalent of "Every man for himself" That meant a mad rush for seats when boarding began! Seriously, how much does it cost to make a seating plan? How lazy are these bums?!
Not as lazy as the man in charge of the X-Ray machine apparently. When I went for security check-in I was stopped because I had a set of screwdrivers in my bag. I couldn't take that on as hand baggage. Then why wasn't I stopped at the damn entrance?! I would have checked the bag in damn you!
It gets worse. The rush for seats was like the rush at Pothy's during a 50 percent sale. Or Saravana Stores during a 10 percent sale. After struggling to get into the plane, I was able to find a seat that i found "mildly" comfortable. There wasn't a push back! When I asked the flight attendant why there was no push back, she said "because there is no push back". Almost immediately, a warm glow of enlightenment dawned upon me, so bright that the passengers around me had to shield their eyes with their air-sickness bags.
It did not help much, that the pilot was American or something and had an accent only a mutated frog could understand. He was making small talk about possible turbulence and I was making small talk about his corpulence. We might have become good friends someday. Who knows?
The following is the entire conversation between the passenger next to me, and the air hostess when they came to serve "food". I use the term food very loosely here since most of the stuff they served seemed suspicious.
Man: "What do you serve?"
Flight Attendant: "Sir, Juice and Sandwich"
Man: "Do you have orange juice?"
FA: "Yes sir"
FA: "Here you go Sir"
Man: "There is no orange juice"
FA: "Yes sir, guava juice"
Man: "...."
Me: "There doesn't seem to be any orange juice."
Man: "Orange juice"
FA: "Yes sir, orange juice"
Man: "...."
I rest my case.
Tired Old Cliches!
I'm back! With more evil venom to spew! This time I'm going to focus on all these silly old cliches that the newspapers seem to propogate. Not surprising, most of them seem to come from Bollywood, always a ready source of venom for me.
1. Chocolate boy looks.
What the hell does this mean? Girls are supposed to like chocolate? So the guy looks good? Or is it that his face is brown and mud-coloured and so he has supposedly chocolate origins? Or is it that his breath smells of cocoa?
Examples - Sonu Nigam - Jesus christ, with that tunnel network of a nose, people regard him as having Chocolate boy looks. Yech!
2. Girl-Next-Door.
Ok, this is pure bull right off the bat. No one who has lived next to me has ever looked like that. Second, the supposedly traditional look that they try to pull off is usually displaced in the next C-Grade flick they act in. The look is very temporary. I wish my girl-next-door looked like that.
3. Emotional Musical Romantic
This is actually a genre of movie! Devdas is classified under this category. Oh Lord! What will they think of next? Here are some more ideas - Cranially Damaging, Mental Trauma and Sob Fest.
4. Crying Heroes
This has GOT to stop! I'm getting sicker every minute I see some macho hero bend his biceps in one scene and then flex his tear muscles in the next. Oh I get it, they're trying to portray that men have an 'emotional/sensitive' side to them too? BULLSHIT. They don't. Men are much simpler than that. Men are BUTCH! Time to learn that.
5. The Comic - this is a tamil special
Every Tamil flick now has a designated comedian. This is as tired a cliche as you can get. The comedian of course, has all his kaamedi situations, complete with badly pronounced English words, getting beaten silly and of course getting yelled at. Then at the end of the movie, the supposedly carefree comic turns out to have a deeper side to him and he starts spewing philosophy faster than my tears at this point. Suddenly, HE'S the one doling out advice to the hero, explaining the vagaries of nature and the miseries of life with simple, yet deep metaphors. Please.
6. The Dying Scene.
Too long. Always. Cut short.
7. Songs
Too many. Unnecessary and usually not worth your time. Whether its Himiessshhh Ressaammiyaauiqz - no, that is not a typo, that's how he spells it now, or Kay Kay, all songs are stereotyped and rate a big 0 on my wanted list. The worst part is that we refuse to give up our ways of the song and dance, fickle heroines dashing around in splendid revelry/teensy tops all in the same scene. I say we need this like we need a Turbanator for PM, oh wait...
8. Spelling Bees
We'd all lose at this one wouldn't we? How many of you actually have just enough letters in your name to ensure people don't confuse your name with gurgling of a flowing river? Not many, turns out. I hate this addition of extra letters and removal of vowels. My new naming system is gonna be naming people SMS-style - namely (pun not intended) by dropping all the vowels. So Vijaykanth becomes Vjyknth, Dhanush becomes Dhnsh. This is the new revolution - i mean rvltion. This rant is more directed at Himesh Reshammiya's ACTING debut! Yes people, after gracing us with his voice, he's back to torment us further with his stubble and cap in place in the name of acting. The name of his movie? - AAP KA SURROOR, THE MOVIEE, THE REAL LUV STORY. I'm not kidding. Check it out.
At this point, I can't go on any further. My eyebrows have knotted together to form a Unibrow like a sailor's knot, my eyes are bloodshot and I am fuming. I need to cool off. I'm going to watch TV - Kabhie Khushie Kabhi Gham.. jeez.
1. Chocolate boy looks.
What the hell does this mean? Girls are supposed to like chocolate? So the guy looks good? Or is it that his face is brown and mud-coloured and so he has supposedly chocolate origins? Or is it that his breath smells of cocoa?
Examples - Sonu Nigam - Jesus christ, with that tunnel network of a nose, people regard him as having Chocolate boy looks. Yech!
2. Girl-Next-Door.
Ok, this is pure bull right off the bat. No one who has lived next to me has ever looked like that. Second, the supposedly traditional look that they try to pull off is usually displaced in the next C-Grade flick they act in. The look is very temporary. I wish my girl-next-door looked like that.
3. Emotional Musical Romantic
This is actually a genre of movie! Devdas is classified under this category. Oh Lord! What will they think of next? Here are some more ideas - Cranially Damaging, Mental Trauma and Sob Fest.
4. Crying Heroes
This has GOT to stop! I'm getting sicker every minute I see some macho hero bend his biceps in one scene and then flex his tear muscles in the next. Oh I get it, they're trying to portray that men have an 'emotional/sensitive' side to them too? BULLSHIT. They don't. Men are much simpler than that. Men are BUTCH! Time to learn that.
5. The Comic - this is a tamil special
Every Tamil flick now has a designated comedian. This is as tired a cliche as you can get. The comedian of course, has all his kaamedi situations, complete with badly pronounced English words, getting beaten silly and of course getting yelled at. Then at the end of the movie, the supposedly carefree comic turns out to have a deeper side to him and he starts spewing philosophy faster than my tears at this point. Suddenly, HE'S the one doling out advice to the hero, explaining the vagaries of nature and the miseries of life with simple, yet deep metaphors. Please.
6. The Dying Scene.
Too long. Always. Cut short.
7. Songs
Too many. Unnecessary and usually not worth your time. Whether its Himiessshhh Ressaammiyaauiqz - no, that is not a typo, that's how he spells it now, or Kay Kay, all songs are stereotyped and rate a big 0 on my wanted list. The worst part is that we refuse to give up our ways of the song and dance, fickle heroines dashing around in splendid revelry/teensy tops all in the same scene. I say we need this like we need a Turbanator for PM, oh wait...
8. Spelling Bees
We'd all lose at this one wouldn't we? How many of you actually have just enough letters in your name to ensure people don't confuse your name with gurgling of a flowing river? Not many, turns out. I hate this addition of extra letters and removal of vowels. My new naming system is gonna be naming people SMS-style - namely (pun not intended) by dropping all the vowels. So Vijaykanth becomes Vjyknth, Dhanush becomes Dhnsh. This is the new revolution - i mean rvltion. This rant is more directed at Himesh Reshammiya's ACTING debut! Yes people, after gracing us with his voice, he's back to torment us further with his stubble and cap in place in the name of acting. The name of his movie? - AAP KA SURROOR, THE MOVIEE, THE REAL LUV STORY. I'm not kidding. Check it out.
At this point, I can't go on any further. My eyebrows have knotted together to form a Unibrow like a sailor's knot, my eyes are bloodshot and I am fuming. I need to cool off. I'm going to watch TV - Kabhie Khushie Kabhi Gham.. jeez.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Central Intelligence Agency
This is what I will refer to our government from now on. I hope my sarcasm is evident. If not, then you're probably a government servant. Off topic, did you ever notice how private companies hire customer care "executives" while government employees are "servants"? Anyway, the latest issue that has me wondering why we even give power to make laws to those who cannot travel without perfumed dhoties (in case of south Indians) or dull safari suits (in case of north Indians) - Ban on smoking scenes in movies. Great job! Well done! First you banned advertising alcoholic drinks, then cigarettes and then eliminated cola from the minds of impressionable youth. Kudos!
Sheesh! Why can't these people think before they make a law? I really don't understand it! Here's why I think they out to be mutilated gradually before being buried in stinking dhoties (southies) and Hawaiian costumes (northies)
Banning ads for alcohol
OK. This is really stupid. So now, instead of seeing an advertisement about alcohol and getting advised by my parents to not drink, I have to watch an ad about Bacardi's music? Or about Johnny Walker mineral water. I can imagine the conversation at home right now: "Son, you see this company that is advertising mineral water? They actually manufacture booze. So don't drink!". Or maybe this: "Hey, that music producing company actually sells rum! Don't touch that stuff!"
Maybe I'm stupid and dense and don't realize that they are actually legitimately selling music and mineral water. So I walk into a music store and buy the shitty music and like it. What happens when I eventually realize that they make booze as well?! "Gosh! Their music rocks! Wonder what their booze tastes like?!" Bah! It makes no sense. Everyone under the sun knows they're keeping the name of the company right under the noses of people so they always remember to drink! The same applies to cigarettes too!
Lets analyse the latest smart move. Banning smoke scenes from movies. I had the misfortune of watching Don recently. The new one. There's this scene in which SRK smokes. But its been banned right? So what do the producers do? (Gotta hand it to them for this). The first scene shows SRK from behind with the cigarette in his mouth. Next scene is him with the cigarette away from his lips but taking a drag rather stylishly. Next is him exhaling the smoke. So basically, all the actions actually performed while a person smokes. Without showing the actual drag! I'm sure that helped jackass! No one realized that he was smoking right? You safeguarded the impressionable youth from seeing a dangerous scene that could have sent the current moronic "GEN Y" (What IS that anyway?) on a smoking spree.
Please. There are more effective ways to control smoking among youth. How, you ask? That ain't my job. I only criticize what others do. I don't mean to say that I can do a better job. Just that I can criticize! Maybe we can 'ban' politicians in general. Elect me prime minister, I sure as hell can do a better job than the Turbanator we have there now. But that's another story for another day.
Sheesh! Why can't these people think before they make a law? I really don't understand it! Here's why I think they out to be mutilated gradually before being buried in stinking dhoties (southies) and Hawaiian costumes (northies)
Banning ads for alcohol
OK. This is really stupid. So now, instead of seeing an advertisement about alcohol and getting advised by my parents to not drink, I have to watch an ad about Bacardi's music? Or about Johnny Walker mineral water. I can imagine the conversation at home right now: "Son, you see this company that is advertising mineral water? They actually manufacture booze. So don't drink!". Or maybe this: "Hey, that music producing company actually sells rum! Don't touch that stuff!"
Maybe I'm stupid and dense and don't realize that they are actually legitimately selling music and mineral water. So I walk into a music store and buy the shitty music and like it. What happens when I eventually realize that they make booze as well?! "Gosh! Their music rocks! Wonder what their booze tastes like?!" Bah! It makes no sense. Everyone under the sun knows they're keeping the name of the company right under the noses of people so they always remember to drink! The same applies to cigarettes too!
Lets analyse the latest smart move. Banning smoke scenes from movies. I had the misfortune of watching Don recently. The new one. There's this scene in which SRK smokes. But its been banned right? So what do the producers do? (Gotta hand it to them for this). The first scene shows SRK from behind with the cigarette in his mouth. Next scene is him with the cigarette away from his lips but taking a drag rather stylishly. Next is him exhaling the smoke. So basically, all the actions actually performed while a person smokes. Without showing the actual drag! I'm sure that helped jackass! No one realized that he was smoking right? You safeguarded the impressionable youth from seeing a dangerous scene that could have sent the current moronic "GEN Y" (What IS that anyway?) on a smoking spree.
Please. There are more effective ways to control smoking among youth. How, you ask? That ain't my job. I only criticize what others do. I don't mean to say that I can do a better job. Just that I can criticize! Maybe we can 'ban' politicians in general. Elect me prime minister, I sure as hell can do a better job than the Turbanator we have there now. But that's another story for another day.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Chennai Open? Or Chennai Dead?
So I went to see the Chennai Open yesterday. Didn't really focus on the tennis 'action'. No, it was the cheerleaders which really interested me. They were all wearing this bright orange costume, like they'd just been hired by Big Bazaar or something, carrying purple pom-poms that make me want to puke-puke. No fault of the girls you say? Bah, the dance was utterly lifeless. They did the same routine after every two games! Seeing as I was too cheap to buy good tickets, I could only hear the words "CHENNAI" at the end of each routine. There were six girls for a seven lettered city name. So one girl had to repeat a letter. It was piss boring, I tell you.
Coupled with the hot tennis action I mean. The first one was fine - a doubles match with Nadal in it. Ok, not great, but a good beginning. Then came the nightmare. Prakash Amritraj, and some doofus called Ivo. Come on! Prakash looked like he'd been potty-trained on the courts. His play 'style' is textbook, like he'd been shown every step of the way how to play. Like the spoiled brat he seems to be. Ivo, a Croatian loser, sucked just as much, but he had a sonic boom for a serve. Destroyed Amritraj like he was a twig in a poop hail storm.
We need better cheerleaders. The tennis will improve automatically.
Coupled with the hot tennis action I mean. The first one was fine - a doubles match with Nadal in it. Ok, not great, but a good beginning. Then came the nightmare. Prakash Amritraj, and some doofus called Ivo. Come on! Prakash looked like he'd been potty-trained on the courts. His play 'style' is textbook, like he'd been shown every step of the way how to play. Like the spoiled brat he seems to be. Ivo, a Croatian loser, sucked just as much, but he had a sonic boom for a serve. Destroyed Amritraj like he was a twig in a poop hail storm.
We need better cheerleaders. The tennis will improve automatically.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Casino Royale
Its been a while since I reviewed a movie. For those who have been waiting for me to do so, wait no more. For those who haven't, it's your turn to wait. It seems to me that I start every post by analysing a diverse group of people each of whom correspond to a segment of the populace that cares to drop into my site. Hmmm.. But I digress; on with it!
First off, the movie is unlike any 007 flick you've ever seen. James here is more intense and more interested in his final prize than any other Bond you've ever seen. In fact, he seems to bed a grand total of just 2 women in this - a shame by Bond standards. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, the movie seems to hold your interest in spite of the fact that there are less naked women and less gun fighting than the average action flick.
The new Bond girl is not great looking, in fact none of the women in CR look that good, but its the new Bond with his cold, blue eyes and witty sarcastic comments that make you want to watch the movie. Even though I wouldn't know a straight Ace from a triple Queens, the poker game is a bit interesting, although they could have explained it a bit more.
List of Ugly People in the Movie:
1. Bond girl Eva Green looks downright miserable from certain angles. But then, she looks worse from others.
2. Villian is super ugly. They oiled his hair with what was left over from Iraq's oil wells.
3. All Extras.
OK, thats it. I can't nitpick over this movie anymore.
Casino Royale:
() - 1 Ass for Eva Green.
Here are the reviews for the movies I have seen but I'm too scared to review for fear it'll cause me to blow a hole in my veins thus pumping out litres of blood that could otherwise be used to save millions of children in Somalia, not that I would ever give them my blood without being assured that it's going to the children and not to some blood thirsty (literally) bureaucrat who'll just keep the blood and pass on the empty container to children who will then proceed to curse me for not donating them enough blood, all the while I'm languishing in a hospital because I gave too much blood without caring for the consequences. There!
Vivaah:
()()()()() - Royal Ass fest. Sucks way too much to be called a movie.
Rendu:
()()()()() - Terrible. Anti -hero is blind avenger. Madhavan with contact lenses. Rubbish.
Jillinu Oru Kaadhal:
()()() - Not as bad as it could have been, but then I don't see too many Tamil flicks.
Vettaiyady Villaiyadu:
()()()()() - HOPELESS. An overweight Kamal Hassan combats unreasonably foul - mouthed psychotic college students while falling in love with a Jyotika in a blink and miss role.
Thats all for now. Lets hope I get to see more crappy movies so I can come here and complain about them. Gee! What a life!
First off, the movie is unlike any 007 flick you've ever seen. James here is more intense and more interested in his final prize than any other Bond you've ever seen. In fact, he seems to bed a grand total of just 2 women in this - a shame by Bond standards. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, the movie seems to hold your interest in spite of the fact that there are less naked women and less gun fighting than the average action flick.
The new Bond girl is not great looking, in fact none of the women in CR look that good, but its the new Bond with his cold, blue eyes and witty sarcastic comments that make you want to watch the movie. Even though I wouldn't know a straight Ace from a triple Queens, the poker game is a bit interesting, although they could have explained it a bit more.
List of Ugly People in the Movie:
1. Bond girl Eva Green looks downright miserable from certain angles. But then, she looks worse from others.
2. Villian is super ugly. They oiled his hair with what was left over from Iraq's oil wells.
3. All Extras.
OK, thats it. I can't nitpick over this movie anymore.
Casino Royale:
() - 1 Ass for Eva Green.
Here are the reviews for the movies I have seen but I'm too scared to review for fear it'll cause me to blow a hole in my veins thus pumping out litres of blood that could otherwise be used to save millions of children in Somalia, not that I would ever give them my blood without being assured that it's going to the children and not to some blood thirsty (literally) bureaucrat who'll just keep the blood and pass on the empty container to children who will then proceed to curse me for not donating them enough blood, all the while I'm languishing in a hospital because I gave too much blood without caring for the consequences. There!
Vivaah:
()()()()() - Royal Ass fest. Sucks way too much to be called a movie.
Rendu:
()()()()() - Terrible. Anti -hero is blind avenger. Madhavan with contact lenses. Rubbish.
Jillinu Oru Kaadhal:
()()() - Not as bad as it could have been, but then I don't see too many Tamil flicks.
Vettaiyady Villaiyadu:
()()()()() - HOPELESS. An overweight Kamal Hassan combats unreasonably foul - mouthed psychotic college students while falling in love with a Jyotika in a blink and miss role.
Thats all for now. Lets hope I get to see more crappy movies so I can come here and complain about them. Gee! What a life!
Thursday, November 30, 2006
I'm applying.. to go crazy
Oh. My. God. The amount of work that needs to be done to apply abroad is simply overwhelming. If you haven't realized by now that I am an incredibly lazy person with nothing better to do than rant about how I have too much to do, you're an idiot.
Seriously though, each university has a separate application form. They require you to fill in as much information as possible in as little space as possible. Why? Because they receive over 3,000 applications every year. Why the hell do you even ask for so much information??????? It defies all logic. You want to simplfy the process of processing applications, so you ask if I'm ethnic Asian or a Pacific Islander. You ask me if I have 5 schools of graduation or 1. You ask me the dates on which I completed my Pre - KG to 12th (not kidding) and the certificates (??) I received at the end of each of those years. Why, pray tell.
I'm sick of filling out form after form after form. And just when you think you're done, they ask you for unreasonable things like your Statement of Purpose with a green header stating your name and department. Several universities share one common application website. Does that make things easier? Hell NO! It just means I have to write the same information, in the same format to different universities! The website has custom fields for each university, so in some places I'm asked - Have you ever been convicted of anything but a traffic violation?, and in others I'm asked - How will you contribute to the student community at ____. Its mind-boggling, the amount of information I've filled in and the number of times I had to click on NEXT.
Just when you think the internet is going to revolutionize the way we work, someone comes along and takes a dump on it. Fifty years from now, we are going to be filling out government forms online. In triplicate. At several different sites. If private universities can screw up the net this much, think what the government can do! AMEN.
Seriously though, each university has a separate application form. They require you to fill in as much information as possible in as little space as possible. Why? Because they receive over 3,000 applications every year. Why the hell do you even ask for so much information??????? It defies all logic. You want to simplfy the process of processing applications, so you ask if I'm ethnic Asian or a Pacific Islander. You ask me if I have 5 schools of graduation or 1. You ask me the dates on which I completed my Pre - KG to 12th (not kidding) and the certificates (??) I received at the end of each of those years. Why, pray tell.
I'm sick of filling out form after form after form. And just when you think you're done, they ask you for unreasonable things like your Statement of Purpose with a green header stating your name and department. Several universities share one common application website. Does that make things easier? Hell NO! It just means I have to write the same information, in the same format to different universities! The website has custom fields for each university, so in some places I'm asked - Have you ever been convicted of anything but a traffic violation?, and in others I'm asked - How will you contribute to the student community at ____. Its mind-boggling, the amount of information I've filled in and the number of times I had to click on NEXT.
Just when you think the internet is going to revolutionize the way we work, someone comes along and takes a dump on it. Fifty years from now, we are going to be filling out government forms online. In triplicate. At several different sites. If private universities can screw up the net this much, think what the government can do! AMEN.
Another dolt from IIM
I was in BITS, Pilani recently for a convention on entrepreneurship. My friends and I had a bio - medical monitoring device. We were quite proud of it, naturally. A lot of successfuly entrepreneurs and professors of business from other universities came and saw the device and liked it. All but one.
This a$$hole was from IIM, Ahmedabad. Really considered himself a hoot. Kept cracking jokes and stuff. The thing I like most about him, was the way he totally ignored us. He listened to what we had to say for all of fifteen seconds, pooh-poohed the whole idea and said that he would never need a medical staff to be notified if he had a heart attack (!). He made a big joke about how morticians should be notified instead. Really, he was quite humourous.
I didn't get it. This guy openly stated that he knew nothing about entrepreneurship and how he was a lowly professor in IIM. Yet, he was put in charge of the advisory panel and was part of the judging panel. One of the "unique", "different" and yet "feasible" devices that he liked - a hand held translator, that can translate words as and when you type them in. Brilliant I say, absolutely original, nothing wrong with it. Except that all it had was a microcontroller inside and their "prototype" had 3 whole words programmed into it. Thats right, you gotta sit down and program the over 40,000 words in the English language into it, and then enter all their translations. Quite inventive.
Why do people think everyone from IIM is good? Good staff? I don't think so. Is it because the students are really really good having cleared CAT? I know lots of students who cannot participate in a one - to - one discussion leave alone a group discussion. They clear CAT, the people with good communication skills can't - because they don't know how to interpret a screwed up pie chart. Why is it, that I have to know how to interpret a data chart, when the very reason I am joining up for an MBA is to learn statistical methods of data interpretation? Why should I join up when I already know how to interpret it? Instead of basing an exam on what you can teach the students (data interpretation), base it on something you can't (communication skills).
At one point, I was going to apply for an MBA. I changed my mind. It's too hard to clear CAT. Some would say that I lack determination and perseverance, some would say that I lack the competence, but I don't really care. I can't pass CAT. Does that mean I cannot manage a group of un-gifted workers paid to perform jobs they don't care about, with salaries they always complain about? Hell no!
This a$$hole was from IIM, Ahmedabad. Really considered himself a hoot. Kept cracking jokes and stuff. The thing I like most about him, was the way he totally ignored us. He listened to what we had to say for all of fifteen seconds, pooh-poohed the whole idea and said that he would never need a medical staff to be notified if he had a heart attack (!). He made a big joke about how morticians should be notified instead. Really, he was quite humourous.
I didn't get it. This guy openly stated that he knew nothing about entrepreneurship and how he was a lowly professor in IIM. Yet, he was put in charge of the advisory panel and was part of the judging panel. One of the "unique", "different" and yet "feasible" devices that he liked - a hand held translator, that can translate words as and when you type them in. Brilliant I say, absolutely original, nothing wrong with it. Except that all it had was a microcontroller inside and their "prototype" had 3 whole words programmed into it. Thats right, you gotta sit down and program the over 40,000 words in the English language into it, and then enter all their translations. Quite inventive.
Why do people think everyone from IIM is good? Good staff? I don't think so. Is it because the students are really really good having cleared CAT? I know lots of students who cannot participate in a one - to - one discussion leave alone a group discussion. They clear CAT, the people with good communication skills can't - because they don't know how to interpret a screwed up pie chart. Why is it, that I have to know how to interpret a data chart, when the very reason I am joining up for an MBA is to learn statistical methods of data interpretation? Why should I join up when I already know how to interpret it? Instead of basing an exam on what you can teach the students (data interpretation), base it on something you can't (communication skills).
At one point, I was going to apply for an MBA. I changed my mind. It's too hard to clear CAT. Some would say that I lack determination and perseverance, some would say that I lack the competence, but I don't really care. I can't pass CAT. Does that mean I cannot manage a group of un-gifted workers paid to perform jobs they don't care about, with salaries they always complain about? Hell no!
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Not so novel
They're old. They're boring. They're repetitive. I'm not talking about the political parties of India, although they fit the description very well. I'm talking about the new age "novels" that are written today. The spy thrillers, espionage filled action adventures that are churned out by the minute by writers like Robert Ludlum and Tom Clancy. Let's face it. Their early books were good. But after a point, they just started writing about the same thing over and over again. I mean, seriously, how many times can you read about the rugged, quiet hero, who has a great body but is still a sensitive man inside with feelings, an anti-hero type person who can do no wrong that cannot be justified by his own twisted view of the world.
I'm sick of reading about this super-spy who has a dark, shady and romantic past as well as a bright, sunny and romantic future. Tom Clancy will never stop writing bullshit book after bullshit book about world wide conspiracies involving overly high tech equipment at the disposal of an ultra super secret task force under the direct control of the president. They'd obviously be led by a man who can call in "favours" from anyone under the sun, some grizzled war veteran who is covertly sympathetic towards our unique anti-hero. Bah!
I read Dan Brown's A & D, as well as the DaVinci Code. I liked both. Screw the critics who said that the "prose" was too boring, and the text was not descriptive. Who cares? The book entertained and thats all we needed from it. In fact, thats all we expected from it. If we wanted to read excellent prose, we'd all read Shakespeare. On the contrary, Digital Fortress was a piece of crap, which just goes to show that no author can ever churn out hit after hit.
Nuts to Ludlum and his barrage of books starting with 'The'. He seems to have no dearth of stories, since he releases one book every year it seems. Each and every one of them is exactly the same. In fact, I recollect seeing a Tom Clancy plot generator someplace. I searched for it, and here it is: http://xoaonline.com/tomclancy.html . This probably works for Ludlum too. 'Nuff said.
I'm sick of reading about this super-spy who has a dark, shady and romantic past as well as a bright, sunny and romantic future. Tom Clancy will never stop writing bullshit book after bullshit book about world wide conspiracies involving overly high tech equipment at the disposal of an ultra super secret task force under the direct control of the president. They'd obviously be led by a man who can call in "favours" from anyone under the sun, some grizzled war veteran who is covertly sympathetic towards our unique anti-hero. Bah!
I read Dan Brown's A & D, as well as the DaVinci Code. I liked both. Screw the critics who said that the "prose" was too boring, and the text was not descriptive. Who cares? The book entertained and thats all we needed from it. In fact, thats all we expected from it. If we wanted to read excellent prose, we'd all read Shakespeare. On the contrary, Digital Fortress was a piece of crap, which just goes to show that no author can ever churn out hit after hit.
Nuts to Ludlum and his barrage of books starting with 'The'. He seems to have no dearth of stories, since he releases one book every year it seems. Each and every one of them is exactly the same. In fact, I recollect seeing a Tom Clancy plot generator someplace. I searched for it, and here it is: http://xoaonline.com/tomclancy.html . This probably works for Ludlum too. 'Nuff said.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Dark Side of The Moon
For those who realized that the title is a Floyd song, screw you. For those who don't, screw you anyway. This is an excellent post. In this, I'm going to be posting all the 'poems' I wrote, while sitting at the KPN Bus Stand, waiting for an eleven 'o' clock bus, that turned up only at eleven forty five. This is the product of an idle mind, a devil's workshop. Hence the title. QED. By the way, these are more couplets than actual poems. I don't have the patience to write an entire poem.
1. Comets streak the gloomy sky,
brand my heart, I know not why.
Touch a chord within me,
I think I like astronomy.
2. Doubt not the hope of man,
doubt not his desire.
Stain not his character,
nor his attire.
3. Forever lost in thought shall I be,
forever lost in doubt.
Forever trying to rid of thee,
trying to throw you out.
4. She ripped a hole in his heart,
the size of her fist.
She did a lot more,
this is just the gist.
Confounded? Well, I did start every couplet with the intention of writing a serious, proper one. Unfortunately, the dark side took over each time with the above. However, the mark of a man is in his conquering his own spirit. So, I managed to actually write a few serious poems (atleast to me). Here they are.
5. You chant, war is what we hate,
war is what we loathe,
war is as useful as a run aground boat.
Know then that you are a fool.
Peace we desire,
War is but a tool.
6. He limped down the street,
down the road he hobbled.
He tripped and fell,
upon the stones cobbled.
They helped him up, they did,
They asked of him, his story sordid.
Never a larger audience did listen to him.
He sat them down and told them,
the story of his limp.
Vietnam, he called it.
Vietcong, he named them.
A hero he was,
ere a bullet made him maim.
7. In the land of the dead, he roams.
Alone for eternity, his fate he mourns.
Purge his spirit he must, to enter the pearly gates.
Cleanse your soul they say, or a fiery hell awaits.
All this was before loss of power in my hostel for about two hours. Sitting in the dark, I actually managed to write an entire poem. I think this really combines both the types above.
8. So alighted her delicate form,
from the wavering boat.
I felt pangs of passion,
with my lips, hers I smote.
They touched but a second,
she pulled away,
a moments lust,
thrown away.
"I am not the one you pine for.
She died a while ago.
I am not the one you long for,
She drowned in her sorrow."
Her words are heard,
not understood.
He steps out beside her,
a hollow sound upon the wood.
Against her will,
she had been forced to marry.
He owned a mill, they said
and also a quarry.
I will never forget her face that day,
It is etched into my memory, as if today.
My life seemed empty,
my soul seemed hollow,
My eyes stared vacantly.
as if to follow.
Her every move,
in the space of our lives,
in a means to disprove,
her little lies.
"They would condemn us!", she said,
"Burn us at the stake.
Accuse us of heresy,
and throw us into the lake."
And so I agreed to forget,
her love for fear of them.
Thats why I sit here yet,
writing this lesbian love poem.
Thats it. This is what I have managed to compose in the last two days. I assure you I have given up my wayward ways. No more poetry for me. I initially took it up because my best friend kidn of challenged me to. Blame this burden on him..
1. Comets streak the gloomy sky,
brand my heart, I know not why.
Touch a chord within me,
I think I like astronomy.
2. Doubt not the hope of man,
doubt not his desire.
Stain not his character,
nor his attire.
3. Forever lost in thought shall I be,
forever lost in doubt.
Forever trying to rid of thee,
trying to throw you out.
4. She ripped a hole in his heart,
the size of her fist.
She did a lot more,
this is just the gist.
Confounded? Well, I did start every couplet with the intention of writing a serious, proper one. Unfortunately, the dark side took over each time with the above. However, the mark of a man is in his conquering his own spirit. So, I managed to actually write a few serious poems (atleast to me). Here they are.
5. You chant, war is what we hate,
war is what we loathe,
war is as useful as a run aground boat.
Know then that you are a fool.
Peace we desire,
War is but a tool.
6. He limped down the street,
down the road he hobbled.
He tripped and fell,
upon the stones cobbled.
They helped him up, they did,
They asked of him, his story sordid.
Never a larger audience did listen to him.
He sat them down and told them,
the story of his limp.
Vietnam, he called it.
Vietcong, he named them.
A hero he was,
ere a bullet made him maim.
7. In the land of the dead, he roams.
Alone for eternity, his fate he mourns.
Purge his spirit he must, to enter the pearly gates.
Cleanse your soul they say, or a fiery hell awaits.
All this was before loss of power in my hostel for about two hours. Sitting in the dark, I actually managed to write an entire poem. I think this really combines both the types above.
8. So alighted her delicate form,
from the wavering boat.
I felt pangs of passion,
with my lips, hers I smote.
They touched but a second,
she pulled away,
a moments lust,
thrown away.
"I am not the one you pine for.
She died a while ago.
I am not the one you long for,
She drowned in her sorrow."
Her words are heard,
not understood.
He steps out beside her,
a hollow sound upon the wood.
Against her will,
she had been forced to marry.
He owned a mill, they said
and also a quarry.
I will never forget her face that day,
It is etched into my memory, as if today.
My life seemed empty,
my soul seemed hollow,
My eyes stared vacantly.
as if to follow.
Her every move,
in the space of our lives,
in a means to disprove,
her little lies.
"They would condemn us!", she said,
"Burn us at the stake.
Accuse us of heresy,
and throw us into the lake."
And so I agreed to forget,
her love for fear of them.
Thats why I sit here yet,
writing this lesbian love poem.
Thats it. This is what I have managed to compose in the last two days. I assure you I have given up my wayward ways. No more poetry for me. I initially took it up because my best friend kidn of challenged me to. Blame this burden on him..
Sunday, August 13, 2006
India Shining... Dimly.
Man! Is this country ever going to improve? I know there are billions of people who will come running out waving their patriotic, tricolored pyjamas saying 'Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for the country'. That, is a load of hogwash. Thats like asking me to stay in the country and work, but not expect any sort of progress. Bullshit.
Another group of people are those that say "If you want India to improve, do it yourself". These are the same people that stand up and cry when they don't get their monthly pension, or their telephone gets disconnected by mistake. Go climb a pole and fix it you hypocrite!
I had occasion to travel to Ooty recently. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I ended up spending 12 hours on a slow, tortuous trip to Coimbatore, and then suffering through another 5 hour trip to Ooty by bus. Its utter nonsense. It can't take that long to go from Chennai to Ooty, can it? The bus driver was slow, his helper was drunk. The bus was stopped every 15 minutes, for some moron who couldn't control his bladder, to pee. I spent more time traveling to and from Ooty than actually in Ooty.
The first group of patriots probably expect me to shut up and take the suffering right? While the second wants me to throw the driver out and take the wheel. The problem with India is that people don't want to do their job. No one is happy with the line of work they are in. The driver probably hates driving, or loathes buses. Or both. He's stuck driving however. Of course, the pay is not going to be very good either since the guy who owns the bloody transport corporation wants to buy himself a perfumed, stain-proof lungi. Seriously, who the hell wants a perfumed lungi? I've never heard of a more useless invention. Oooh! Look at me! My crotch is fragrant!Idiots.
When I initially booked my tickets, I booked it at an agency called National Travels. I was told to board the bus from Jehan Bharat Travels. The bus that came bore the name City Travels. I was frustrated at this point itself, but what made it worse, was the part where I was allotted the last seat, and there was no push back. I pay Three Hundred and Eighty fricking bucks and I fricking expect a reclining seat. The monster lady in front of me however, got a full reclining seat. Needless to say, I barely had space to breathe.
Where was I to complain? The drunk helper? The slow driver? National Travels? Jehan Bharat? City? Thats when it hit me. The old lady's seat - in the face.
I can't wait to leave India. I can't wait to get to a place where the public is respected. I can't wait to leave all the smelly, overcrowded cities here. I know that in my lifetime, I can do nothing to fix this problem. Following the advice of the first group, I don't expect anything from this country. Following the advice of the second group, I'm fixing the problem - by leaving.
Patriots beware! I carry a shotgun.
Another group of people are those that say "If you want India to improve, do it yourself". These are the same people that stand up and cry when they don't get their monthly pension, or their telephone gets disconnected by mistake. Go climb a pole and fix it you hypocrite!
I had occasion to travel to Ooty recently. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I ended up spending 12 hours on a slow, tortuous trip to Coimbatore, and then suffering through another 5 hour trip to Ooty by bus. Its utter nonsense. It can't take that long to go from Chennai to Ooty, can it? The bus driver was slow, his helper was drunk. The bus was stopped every 15 minutes, for some moron who couldn't control his bladder, to pee. I spent more time traveling to and from Ooty than actually in Ooty.
The first group of patriots probably expect me to shut up and take the suffering right? While the second wants me to throw the driver out and take the wheel. The problem with India is that people don't want to do their job. No one is happy with the line of work they are in. The driver probably hates driving, or loathes buses. Or both. He's stuck driving however. Of course, the pay is not going to be very good either since the guy who owns the bloody transport corporation wants to buy himself a perfumed, stain-proof lungi. Seriously, who the hell wants a perfumed lungi? I've never heard of a more useless invention. Oooh! Look at me! My crotch is fragrant!Idiots.
When I initially booked my tickets, I booked it at an agency called National Travels. I was told to board the bus from Jehan Bharat Travels. The bus that came bore the name City Travels. I was frustrated at this point itself, but what made it worse, was the part where I was allotted the last seat, and there was no push back. I pay Three Hundred and Eighty fricking bucks and I fricking expect a reclining seat. The monster lady in front of me however, got a full reclining seat. Needless to say, I barely had space to breathe.
Where was I to complain? The drunk helper? The slow driver? National Travels? Jehan Bharat? City? Thats when it hit me. The old lady's seat - in the face.
I can't wait to leave India. I can't wait to get to a place where the public is respected. I can't wait to leave all the smelly, overcrowded cities here. I know that in my lifetime, I can do nothing to fix this problem. Following the advice of the first group, I don't expect anything from this country. Following the advice of the second group, I'm fixing the problem - by leaving.
Patriots beware! I carry a shotgun.
Ban Stupidity First...
Its really aggravating to see cola drinkers like me punished while idiots go scot free. Is India blind? Or just stupid? Or are they led by a bespectacled Sardar? Hmmm... something to think about.
The other day I was reading this 'news' paper called Deccan Chronicle. In it were the rather fervent protests of the morons who think that banning a cola can cure India of AIDS. The front page of the paper carried a photograph of the 'protestor'. It was an uneducated, ignorant buffon who stood triumnphantly holding a bottle of Cola. How do I know he was uneducated and ignorant? The bottle of cola was being forced down the throat of a camel! Hell, even I have more brains than that and I can't divide 150 by 3 without using a calculator! This amounts to animal rights abuse. The camel doesn't want to drink it! Stop forcing it to, you jackass!
I seriously hope he didn't mean to say that even Camels don't want to drink the swill we call cola. Since when did camels become the new standard for testing edible foods? Camels don't drink coffee, they don't drink tea. They don't eat pizzas and pastries. You know what they eat? Grass! Loads and loads of grass! Obviously, they don't want to drink cola! So, not only is this guy practising animal abuse, he's stupid too! Throw him in jail first!
The next time, stupidity hit me like a sledgehammer to the nose, was when I picked up this sham of a newspaper again. A few days later, in the supplement, the editors decided to print some information about how possessive boyfriends butcher their girlfriends. The column was substantiated with an 'expert' opinion. I use the term expert here loosely, since they don't amount to anything more than unemployed dorks. The 'expert' here actually tries to help girls spot when their boyfriend becomes possessive. Here's an excerpt of his advice, typed out for free by yours truly for the sole purpose of geting this quack in jail and buggered for life. 'If you're boyfriend starts acting out of character, somethings wrong'. No shit Sherlock! You don't say! You mean that calling up at 12 midnight is NOT normal? Oh my god, I am a grown woman with a boyfriend and the apparent power to read, and yet cannot figure out that my boyfriends gone off his rocker just because he called me at night to find out where I am or tries to know all my friends. Thank you, Dr. Whats-his-name, I salute your endless supply of needless nonsense.
Please. These are the guys that take India down from the gutter into the rocky layer below the city. These are the intelligential sub-strata of society. They should have an IQ test for anyone over the age of 5 and those who failed, automatically get guillotined.
I say we ban stupidity first. Might give me time to stock up on cola. Idiots.
The other day I was reading this 'news' paper called Deccan Chronicle. In it were the rather fervent protests of the morons who think that banning a cola can cure India of AIDS. The front page of the paper carried a photograph of the 'protestor'. It was an uneducated, ignorant buffon who stood triumnphantly holding a bottle of Cola. How do I know he was uneducated and ignorant? The bottle of cola was being forced down the throat of a camel! Hell, even I have more brains than that and I can't divide 150 by 3 without using a calculator! This amounts to animal rights abuse. The camel doesn't want to drink it! Stop forcing it to, you jackass!
I seriously hope he didn't mean to say that even Camels don't want to drink the swill we call cola. Since when did camels become the new standard for testing edible foods? Camels don't drink coffee, they don't drink tea. They don't eat pizzas and pastries. You know what they eat? Grass! Loads and loads of grass! Obviously, they don't want to drink cola! So, not only is this guy practising animal abuse, he's stupid too! Throw him in jail first!
The next time, stupidity hit me like a sledgehammer to the nose, was when I picked up this sham of a newspaper again. A few days later, in the supplement, the editors decided to print some information about how possessive boyfriends butcher their girlfriends. The column was substantiated with an 'expert' opinion. I use the term expert here loosely, since they don't amount to anything more than unemployed dorks. The 'expert' here actually tries to help girls spot when their boyfriend becomes possessive. Here's an excerpt of his advice, typed out for free by yours truly for the sole purpose of geting this quack in jail and buggered for life. 'If you're boyfriend starts acting out of character, somethings wrong'. No shit Sherlock! You don't say! You mean that calling up at 12 midnight is NOT normal? Oh my god, I am a grown woman with a boyfriend and the apparent power to read, and yet cannot figure out that my boyfriends gone off his rocker just because he called me at night to find out where I am or tries to know all my friends. Thank you, Dr. Whats-his-name, I salute your endless supply of needless nonsense.
Please. These are the guys that take India down from the gutter into the rocky layer below the city. These are the intelligential sub-strata of society. They should have an IQ test for anyone over the age of 5 and those who failed, automatically get guillotined.
I say we ban stupidity first. Might give me time to stock up on cola. Idiots.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Pretentiously Pedantic, Positively Ignorant
I had recent occassion to read through some of the words used in the GRE (read, I wrote my GRE). It was pathetic. It left me devoid of any emotion and I felt pedantic to the point of nearly becoming pretentious and bombastic. I decided that a philistine outlook was called for and changed my temperament in order to behoove my social standing. The stratum that I am placed in is rather bellicose and required me to constantly eulogize it, when I was actually elegying it. It was incumbent on me to learn the rather tortuous word list and then spew the same out in the exam.
If you can read the above paragraph and understand it, congratulations, you're a dumbass. You just spent ten minutes on a paragraph that means nothing. Its really sad, that the language they expect of you in GRE is rather reminiscent of the lingo used in Management. The best part of management, is that you can say everything, without every saying anything. Using bombastic words to actually pretend you're doing some work is the kind of work I see myself doing ten years from now and I will use bombastic words to pretend I am using bombastic words, till you are stuck in a vicious circle trying to find out just what I have done, all the while being watched by me with a smirk on my face and my inevitably-illegal-by-then cola in my hand.
The unwarranted expansion in my vocabulary, although temporary is still infuriating to many around me who cannot comprehend the verbal barrage that I spew, simpletons that they are. This however, means that I am surrounded by a dwindling numbe of friends, as those simple few who donot wish to partake in the joy that is complicated English, desert me in favour of colloqial and hence simpler English.
Bottom Line of this Post: I wrote GRE. I'm losing friends.
If you can read the above paragraph and understand it, congratulations, you're a dumbass. You just spent ten minutes on a paragraph that means nothing. Its really sad, that the language they expect of you in GRE is rather reminiscent of the lingo used in Management. The best part of management, is that you can say everything, without every saying anything. Using bombastic words to actually pretend you're doing some work is the kind of work I see myself doing ten years from now and I will use bombastic words to pretend I am using bombastic words, till you are stuck in a vicious circle trying to find out just what I have done, all the while being watched by me with a smirk on my face and my inevitably-illegal-by-then cola in my hand.
The unwarranted expansion in my vocabulary, although temporary is still infuriating to many around me who cannot comprehend the verbal barrage that I spew, simpletons that they are. This however, means that I am surrounded by a dwindling numbe of friends, as those simple few who donot wish to partake in the joy that is complicated English, desert me in favour of colloqial and hence simpler English.
Bottom Line of this Post: I wrote GRE. I'm losing friends.
Pirates Of The Carribean: Dead Man's Chest
POC: COTBP was an awesome movie. I am not going to bother expanding the title. If you haven't seen it, stop breathing now. Or rent it and see it right away.
The sequel isn't as great as the original. But then, sequels rarely are. Johnny Depp reprises his role as Jack Sparrow to perfection. It's really great to see him in action again. Unfortunately, with Depp, they had to bring back Orlando Bloom. This guy is easily the worst actor ever. He's also not the hunk of Hollywood. His role is really good, but he sucks. I hate him. It has something to do with the fact that he got Keira Kneightley in POC: COTBP.
The movie is not as funny as the first one but it's definitely twice as confusing. Something about Davy Jones, barnacles and a lot of gore. According to me, this has all the ingredients to make it an assless movie. It has a great male lead - Johnny Depp, female lead - KK is a goddess, plus a confusing story, comedy and did I mention KK? What stops it from getting a 0 ass rating however, is the pervasive presence of Orlando Bloom.
POC: DMC
()
The sequel isn't as great as the original. But then, sequels rarely are. Johnny Depp reprises his role as Jack Sparrow to perfection. It's really great to see him in action again. Unfortunately, with Depp, they had to bring back Orlando Bloom. This guy is easily the worst actor ever. He's also not the hunk of Hollywood. His role is really good, but he sucks. I hate him. It has something to do with the fact that he got Keira Kneightley in POC: COTBP.
The movie is not as funny as the first one but it's definitely twice as confusing. Something about Davy Jones, barnacles and a lot of gore. According to me, this has all the ingredients to make it an assless movie. It has a great male lead - Johnny Depp, female lead - KK is a goddess, plus a confusing story, comedy and did I mention KK? What stops it from getting a 0 ass rating however, is the pervasive presence of Orlando Bloom.
POC: DMC
()
Don't Ban Colas
The title says it all. The government has no right to ban what they think is harmful for us. We are not a nation of thumb-sucking babies. Atleast, most of us are past the thumb-sucking and have been promoted to bed-wetting.
Jokes aside, this is not the kind of decision a democratic government can make so easily. Lets face the facts. Cigarette smoking is more injurious to health than drinking a cola. How many people you know are 'addicted' to cola? I know just one. Me. You prob know just one. Me. But you see a lot more people addicted to tobacco, something that is more potent and dangerous than a bottle of cola.
Don't show me bottles of cola and tell me they are full of pesticide and can be used to clean the toilet and can dissolve teeth. Those are extremely concentrated acids and no one soaks his teeth overnight in cola so they taste better in the morning. Caffeine is dangerous too, in large enough quantities. Yet, we are alright with taking a cup of coffee in the morning before we brush our teeth. Everyday.
I can just imagine the news. "Drinks Cola, Dies. " This would be followed by a special report, then an extra report and finally an extra special report. All spewing the same nonsense. It's bullshit. Cola is harmful in large quantities. So is caffeine and a hundred other things. Including oxygen. Did you know that if you breathe pure oxygen for too long, you can die?
I hate people showing me news items where a person has collapsed because he drank four 1 litre bottles of cola. That's pure hogwash. Give the same guy 4 litres of coffee and he'd probably die! Its the quantity that matters too doofus! Stopping endorsements of colas by stars is not going to make people forget about it. Its the same way that Bacardi advertises Apple Juice and Kingfisher advertises Mineral Water. Please. We know you trying to sell us alcohol.
Which reminds me. Why hasn't alcohol been banned yet? To hell with all cola banning nations and governments. I say, replace all IV drips with cola. The patient'd die peacefully atleast.
Jokes aside, this is not the kind of decision a democratic government can make so easily. Lets face the facts. Cigarette smoking is more injurious to health than drinking a cola. How many people you know are 'addicted' to cola? I know just one. Me. You prob know just one. Me. But you see a lot more people addicted to tobacco, something that is more potent and dangerous than a bottle of cola.
Don't show me bottles of cola and tell me they are full of pesticide and can be used to clean the toilet and can dissolve teeth. Those are extremely concentrated acids and no one soaks his teeth overnight in cola so they taste better in the morning. Caffeine is dangerous too, in large enough quantities. Yet, we are alright with taking a cup of coffee in the morning before we brush our teeth. Everyday.
I can just imagine the news. "Drinks Cola, Dies. " This would be followed by a special report, then an extra report and finally an extra special report. All spewing the same nonsense. It's bullshit. Cola is harmful in large quantities. So is caffeine and a hundred other things. Including oxygen. Did you know that if you breathe pure oxygen for too long, you can die?
I hate people showing me news items where a person has collapsed because he drank four 1 litre bottles of cola. That's pure hogwash. Give the same guy 4 litres of coffee and he'd probably die! Its the quantity that matters too doofus! Stopping endorsements of colas by stars is not going to make people forget about it. Its the same way that Bacardi advertises Apple Juice and Kingfisher advertises Mineral Water. Please. We know you trying to sell us alcohol.
Which reminds me. Why hasn't alcohol been banned yet? To hell with all cola banning nations and governments. I say, replace all IV drips with cola. The patient'd die peacefully atleast.
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