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

December 30, 2005

Shitless

From Hindustantimes.com

Suicide bombers threatened in letters sent to local media that they would target a top politician and launch attacks against New Year's revellers in the city of Bangalore, police said on Friday.
A letter from a previously unknown group outlining the threatened attacks in Bangalore was faxed to several newspapers late on Thursday, the director-general of police, BS Sial, said.
"It will be the most coordinated attack the country has ever seen," television channel CNN-IBN quoted the letter, written in English, as saying.
Six attackers will trigger explosions including, "two human bombs to target the state chief minister," Moin-ud-Din of the Al-Jehadi group said, according to the report.
"Newspapers have received the letter late last night, and we are trying to find out if it is a hoax. But we will not take any chances," said Sial, without giving further details.
The letters were sent a day after gunmen opened fire on Wednesday outside a prestigious science institute in Bangalore, killing a retired professor and wounding four others.
Police set up barricades, patrolled streets and continued to search cars at checkpoints on Friday across the city, hunting for the attackers, Sial said.
Police suspect LeT terrorists to be behind Wednesday's attack, but no group has claimed responsibility.

Ok, now I’m just scared shitless. I’m staying away from all 5 star hotels, politicians and teacher/professors.

It’s a good thing I always do :)

She's here!

Who’s the happiest one of them all? (Pee eye, Pee eye…)
Who’s the one with the widest smile? (Pee eye, Pee eye…)
Whose chest is out and eyes abright (Pee eye, Pee eye…)
Now will you all shut up and listen close (Pee eye, oh ,er, ok, sure.)

Sweety’s here! And the loot, OMG, the loot!

This, (read this review by beatzo) and this.

Bruhahahahahahaha! The digital world is now mine to carry around in my backpack!

Go back to the chanting now, y’all.

(silence)

Well, go on, I say!

(Audience waves finger wildly at “Pee eye”)

And if I promise to share?

(PEE EYE PEE EYE!)

December 29, 2005

A techie PJ

Define stereotypecasting
.
.
.
.
.
give up?

char x;

//yada yada

y = (int) x (int);

Currently tripping on...

The Eclipse IDE (Thanks for the reco, Ra!)
Answers.com (which basically means EVERYTHING)
The one hour wait every day before Citrus comes online.
Ass smileys - (_x_)
The 6 and a half hour wait before Sweety shoes up.
The taste of pineapple jam, and the vapours that flood my nose in the process.
A whole lot of new sites I've discovered that I'll only list on Jan 1st, hangover notwithstanding. Please check my blog then, and I promise you I'll give you guys links to atleast a couple of hours worth of excellent reading.

December 28, 2005

Mahabharat Redux

I take back the whole anus thing. This is easily the funniest. Ever. I've still not stopped laughing.

Proof that Pi is Irrational

Toldya so.

Last reflections

As we all assume (and what I now know) it always takes a bit to get back into the "groove" when you've not been writing anything for a couple of months. I look at the half-finished draft of the book, the blog that stopped abruptly, and the short story collection, and they're gathering digital dust, aching for new words, feelings and expressions that'll take them forward and into newer vistas (note to self: never use the word 'vista' again. Too icky.) I looked through a bunch of abandoned stuff on Layla and found these -

--------------------------------
(This one was on the blog I surreptiously started when Pispeak had "shut down". That effort, I'm sorry to say, went CrashAndBurn bigtime)

Backstage
Plink. Plunk. CMajor. StrumStrumStrumMuteStrum (but it's not plugged in, so you could be thumbing it like SRK, and nobody'd care). Plug into tuner. ebgdaE. Seems good. Repeat with the rest of the group. The bass is wuzzing a bit on the lower notes, but we're sure no one will care. Touch the strings with both hands and mumble an incoherent prayer. Regards to Hendrix, Berry, and the Prophet Satch. Bump knuckles with the rest of the band. Realize that there are five minutes left, so light up a doobie and watch the lights spread across the world (!). The vocals' are still mugging up the lyrics to the new song, and you think FuckIHopeTheyDon'tScrewUp and WhoLetTheseChicksIntoTheBandAnywayOhWaitWeDidDamn. You empty your pockets and leave only the three picks, including the stubby 'lucky' one. Laces tight, and the rip at the knee has finally decided to fray like it's authentic. Banter about the song order and argue about the inclusion of the chick song... one last time. Hell, atleast they can hold a damn pitch, and we've never been pelted before. (And they be fine, so why not?) The drummer's twirling his sticks, and even though it looks mighty impressive, you and I know damn well he's a nervous wreck. His woman's in the crowd, after all. The crowd is getting restless, and in that blank noise, the only (apparent) audible thing is the restless enthusiasm of a hundred stoned teenagers waiting for their buds to appear. ManIt'sStickyHere. And the strings aren't gliding so well. WipeWipeWipe. And again. Better. 15b17\15p13p12h13p12h13p12 and then a descending Emin run with a few stunts on the whammy. Again, not plugged. And nobody's watching. Oh well, on stage should be better. Hopefully X's looking out for you today. You KNOW you want to 'do' stuff to her, eh? Hell, after today, (the weed's hitting now)

You're gonna go far,
You're gonna fly high,
You're never gonna die,
You're gonna make it if you try;
They're gonna love you.
Well I've always had a deep respect,
And I mean that most sincerly.
The band is just fantastic,
that is really what I think.
Oh by the way, which one's Pi? (koff)
And did we tell you the name of the game, boy,
We call it Riding the Gravy Train.

It's our first show after all.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(This one's also from that same failed attempt of a blog, and just goes to show how one can be unintentionally, yet horribly and obviously pretentious. Oh well, humanity.)

Somewhere in the universe it's raining lke there's no end. And with every drop that falls on the ground, a new story is born. Each story is worth a million emotions, and each a myriad array of thoughts. Every story only waits for it's essence to be spread across the minds of humanity, and be felt for it was to tell. In this world of rain, there's no distinction between a good yarn spinner and a sorry hack; no boundaries between profundity and the lack of any meaning at all. Every drop simply falls down, no distinct from the rest of the downpour, only to live as a memory in the earth-mind that will swallow it.

And every drop lives only for an instant, and every instant outlasts the memory of a thousand downpours.

That part of the universe is my mind. And those drops are but the passings of a neutered imagination, that's waited to long to exercise it's only habit - to think.

Welcome.

(I notice a lot of people who use this approach. Obfuscate with mental imagery, and then claim that their/ my own simplicity lies in their/my being to accept it. Usually elicits a lot of "wow" level comments. Ugh. Didn't like this post too much. And while we're at it, I might as well mention that posts that argue right vs wrong should be banned to hell. Anyway, this part followed it, and I liked it better-)


What is it with fantasy books anyway? Why the hell does everybody speak like they're playing a role on stage or something? I mean, when Nietzche said "Gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazes back into you", I'm guessing he might have thought about it over a friendly beer with a few friends (possibly Wagner pre-Bayreuth) and he was wondering about why the preppy 'haute' woman in the corner was giving him an insolent eye. Just a thought. It's not like the man had a fake stage in his backyard, where he'd point one hand to the stars and say "And Zarathustra passed by me". I'm rather thinking it'd be four in the morn, and a splitting headache and a parched throat would produce the same remark (invective included).

(Hehe. In my head. a pharoah-ically bearded hungover FN goes "Oy daam, that [censored] Zaruthashtra, he pazz by me".)
--------------------------------------------------------------------
(Then there's this. It's the last part of what was supposed to be my best story ever, but never reached completion. Was meant to be a story for Db_, but went all over the place nonetheless. Really liked writing it. Forget about what the story was, I felt warm and fuzzy for about 5 minutes after typing it out. Buy me a beer and I'll narrate the whole tale to you.)

Irony - epilogue
We could be over Burundi, for all I know. Not important. The flight attendant's cleared the tray and my ears pop, so I figure I'll walk down the aisle; stretch my feet, that sort of thing. Or not. I drift off again...
...The women are stepping in, and I'm thinking which one is my date for the night. Could it possibly be...?
Yeah, it's her.
She's sitting next to me, and riffling through her purse for something, out comes a light pink lipstick that's applied quite sexily and she checks herself one last time, and looks at me. I melt.
"Hey you."
Hey gorgeous.
"Missed me?"
Oh yeah. Like mad.
(One hand of her reaches for my forehead, and pushes an errant strand of hair to the right.)
"Better"
...
"And Pi..."
Yeah, what?
"Don't leave me. Ever"
Never would, babe. Not for all the money in the world.

(Man, I'm such a sap sometimes.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(I've always wanted to post this next bit up, yet hesitant. Does it betray a little too much? Or is it some of that "frustrated artist" crap that Mike Noonan would've endorsed? I dunno.)

Maybe we don’t want to live in a world
Where innocence is so short
- SilverChair, Anthem for the year 2000


Happy new year, y'all. Please don't drink and drive.

December 27, 2005

Xmas

Sunday morning. It's Christmas, y'all! And I'm sitting in Mojo's with the babe Layla, waiting for another to show up (babe, that is). If I_ doesn't show up in the next 3 minutes, I've told her that she's going to have to jump up and down thrice and scream loudly "I'm a flea, I'm a flea!"; this should be fun, what?)

Update: She was half an hour late. And she did the flea routine. Loudly. Hilarious.
Update 2: Have decided against the whole NeedForWeed idea. Suddenly remembered why I quit in the first place.

Life's suddenly all good. Nice.

December 25, 2005

I have a theory that if you remove your blog from search engine listings, blogsearch, etc, you won't need word verification anymore. Of course, this means you can't publicize, and people who click on your name can't find your blog, unless you tell them.

I wonder. Oh well, removed word verification, let's see what happens.

Wikipedia rules. John Seigenthaler Sr. is such a crybaby.
Support free speech.

It's NOT amazing how little people know about anything.
What's amazing is that they're all ok about it.

This one's for each of the most terrible blogs I've read by friends, dumbasses, juniors, seniors, unknowns, populars, and whoever's learnt that taking a neutral stand on a topic is an easy way to look Psood-O (sic). If you (that's right, you, singular) just felt guilty, then I was probably referring to you anyway. As for the rest, ah, why don't you just smell my skinny ass.

"'Philaxophy' is defined as the process of describing the process of how we think the way we doo-doo. And if the puns are too much to take, you might as well get off the buzz."
Merry Festivus And a fuckall new year.

Azhar, Ganja, Mukka - Please abandon me now. I need help. Losing my mind, one cigarette at a time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm considering getting back into weed bigtime, and here's why.
I used to smoke a lot of the shit, and the frequency/amount/concentration increased exponentially over the later 3 years in college. After the BE, it stopped abruptly, and it was obvious that the rumours were true... it's quite simple to kick the leaf. And I feel no side effects antmore, my sleep rhythms have come back to normal, all healthy and all that, no loss of any sense of drive, lungs all clear, cigarette smoking is quite stagnant at betwen 5-8 a day, weekend booze only... that sort of thing.
But I miss it bad. So I ask you this - presented with undeniable proof (that is, myself) that the weed ain't bad, well, why don't I start up again?
Pros-
1. The buzz. Pretty self-explanatory.
2. It's cheap.
3. Tobacco consumption goes further down. As does the alcohol intake.
4. Doesn't smell, usually no traces of usage (except for the bloodshot eyes, which get fixed with AntiTears soln. in about a minute and a half, and the munchies, which nobody notices anyway)
5. The memoryloss thing is overrated. Of course my short term memory gets busted for a while... that was kind of the point now, wasn't it?
6. Mental Masturbation that doesn't leave a sore shoulder (!!!)


Cons-
1. The effort. This includes the scoring, the crushing, rolling, finding a place to blaze, that sort of thing.
2. Sleep too much; slept too little. As in, 12 hours sleep is worth only 4 hours of it.
3. "Society" looks down on a potential junkie.
4. Other assorted nonsense. What I'm saying is that the cons are acceptable. The workarounds are aplenty.

And it's not like college anymore now, is it? I can afford it, the control is infinitely easier, God knows I've spent enough time with it to understand it, there's no peer pressure bullshit anymore (though I would like to meet up with We-Jayeth once in a while. Excellent Weed company, Pi-certified) and most importantly, I'll be in my own bachelor pad soon.

So I ask you- Why not? Shitty BlogPost or note, I challenge you to answer me. And hell, I'll have an open debate on this in that miasma we know as the comments section.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Have I ever told you that most of the women I've known in my life (and many more I've never blogged on) are the most beautiful in the world? How lucky I must be to know them. A lifetime worth of memories I've recieved in bantering with them. Pity they'll never know why. Many thanks for saving me, Chicas Inc.

December 23, 2005

BoingBoing had avoided going here for the longest of times. I finally reached there last night, and was up till 3 in the morning reading a lot of their posts. Fabulous site. And links to a million other cool sites, so expect hours and hours of giggly material.

Also suffering from a horrid writer's block, so don't expect any posts for a while. Still trying to get a grip on the reality that is.

December 19, 2005

So you're telling me that it takes hours and hours to come up with a hilarious post, or an insightful one, or one that makes people go "Oooh! descriptive! Let's comment on this and filth it up!"

Bullshit. Here's the funniest thing I've read on the net for a long long time. Warning : Very Gross.


PS- Hello all. Life's been good? I hope so.