"'Truth is strange," you know, "stranger than fiction' - besides being more to the point" - Edgar Allan Poe

July 17, 2004

In humanity we dwell... Part 1

For now I'll just post up one of my favorite short stories in the recent past. Enjoy!


The Distinguished Stranger - By Robert Louis Stevenson

ONCE upon a time there came to this earth a visitor from a
neighboring planet. And he was met at the place of his descent by
a great philosopher, who was to show him everything.

First of all they came through a wood, and the stranger looked upon
the trees. "Whom have we here?" said he.

"These are only vegetables," said the philosopher. "They are
alive, but not at all interesting."

"I don't know about that," said the stranger. "They seem to have
very good manners. Do they never speak?"

"They lack the gift," said the philosopher.

"Yet I think I hear them sing," said the other.

"That is only the wind among the leaves," said the philosopher. "I
will explain to you the theory of winds: it is very interesting."

"Well," said the stranger, "I wish I knew what they are thinking."

"They cannot think," said the philosopher.

"I don't know about that," returned the stranger: and then, laying
his hand upon a trunk: "I like these people," said he.

"They are not people at all," said the philosopher. "Come along."

Next they came through a meadow where there were cows.

"These are very dirty people," said the stranger.

"They are not people at all," said the philosopher; and he
explained what a cow is in scientific words which I have forgotten.

"That is all one to me," said the stranger. "But why do they never
look up?"

"Because they are graminivorous," said the philosopher; "and to
live upon grass, which is not highly nutritious, requires so close
an attention to business that they have no time to think, or speak,
or look at the scenery, or keep themselves clean."

"Well," said the stranger, "that is one way to live, no doubt. But
I prefer the people with the green heads."

Next they came into a city, and the streets were full of men and
women.

"These are very odd people," said the stranger.

"They are the people of the greatest nation in the world," said the
philosopher.

"Are they indeed?" said the stranger. "They scarcely look so."


The End

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Eye Crispy, ahoy!

I ain't no physicist, but I know what matters
- Popeye the sailor

Saturday morning brings new life into the maids of the house, knowing that the weekly pay is just round the corner (post-lunch, in fact). The laundry gets handwashed with extra punch, the floors are scrubbed to sparkle (as seen on TV!) and as a bonus, the resident cook makes her own version of gujju undhiyan. As a rule, I never wake before noon on a saturday; my aunt walks in screaming in a wierd marathi-konkani mixture of oaths and curses to get me to bathe before we run out of hot water; promising that the heavens will fall on me, satan will adopt me as his boybitch, God (one of a million, chosen randomly) would drop lightning/ brimstone(?)/ killer frogs on my head, that killer lice would infest my balls, and all in all, that a complete satyanaash would takeover the rest of my earthly days. That's silly. How could we run out of hot water when we use instant geysers?


See you later..