Thursday, October 27, 2005

One Whole Year

It has come fleeting through.
I'd like to thank Blogger, the rain-gods and my parents for having me.....AND ALL THAT SHE-BANG!

Blogging has easily been Internet's best gift to me. What began as an ennui-cure has well and truly gone on to become an integral part of my life. A shrink, a template for flashes of creativity, a networker of sorts and a breeding ground for meeting some terrific people are just a few of the umpteen things that this blog has been to me.
I resolve to always put my time and energy into keeping SO alive. I just know, that years down the line when I click on the archives, it'd put a smile on my face.

Friday, October 21, 2005

1100 ways to blah your brains out!

In all the numerous tides human race has had to swim against, there will likely never be anything as tedious as pretending to understand postmodernism as a seriously respectable sociological concept.
That and ofcourse trying to sneeze with eyes open...but let me not digress.

For me, the only neat periods that history has been classified into would be the Ancient world, the Medieval ages and then, now.
Ancient world was when early man realised that the basic social structure of life would have to be bottom-up. It worked quick with Eve and even quicker with beer.

The Medieval ages was around the time there was the much-needed focal infection on all things middle, particularly seminal things. Out strode people like Hobbes and Hegel and made the whole process a severely cerebrated one, pleasantly so too. Needless to say, this is my favourite era. There are rumours that this is the time when several metanarratives like the Bible and the Gita sprung up. But I'd have been too happy 'stuck to the middle' to worry about the world being fragmented by religion!

The Modernist times began when flannelettes and yellow sunglasses were not just normal clothes anymore. They transited to being objects that help you get devirginised and then become passe. Also, it was essential that you go to thought-gang parties, meet chicks, talk at length about the Federal Reserve and tropical rain forests and then think about getting lucky.

And then there was now.
Now was when Mass fucken Psychosis happened. (yes, I'm reading Vernon God Little and with all due respect to Piere, Vernie is nowhere as layeth-the-smacketh-down kickass as Holden Caulfield.)
A certain Smart Alex Graham Cell came up with the swimmingly terrific idea of exposing human race to extreme microwave radiation via a reassuringly small version of the telephone. To make it sound even more harmless, he called it the Cell.
Mass fucken Psychosis then took over and did what it does best and soon we had every second carbon-based life form owning a cell, yearning for it or dying trying to acquire it.

As is the case with all major inventions, the cell spawned a universal impulse that all cell-brandishing members of the male species of civilisation will preemptively acquire a member of the female species. (and vice-versa, Molly Yard!)
As is the case with all universal impulses, it got misinterpreted.
The case was now that all cell-brandishing members of the male species have already acquired a female member and currently trying to put an end to the foreplay and get to the main act.

Manudo steps in at this juncture, and begs to differ. He claims that he bought a brand new cell completely equipped with a white torchlight and not much else purely because his mom and dad want to keep a tab on him.
He says:
If you can believe that we are all in a deep gravity well, on a gas-covered planet that goes around a nuclear fireball about 90 million miles away, then you can bloody well believe that I bought a cellphone because my mother asked me to.

You should know he won the Not So Original Perspectivist Theory award for that.

Now if you will excuse me, I shall go to Spinn this Sunday and dance heartily, occassionally splaying rays of white torchlight on this stunning piece of carbon-based life form I met!

Saturday, October 15, 2005

While you were sleeping..

An old dream in a new mask....

A hyperevolved visionary, a hard-edged rationalist, full to the brim with carefully nurtured moral principles and an absurdly clear sense of right and wrong. A unmuddied lake of a life, symmetrically rippled with the very essence of mediocrity. As perpetually guided by reason as unguided by freewill.
Thinking thrice about thinking twice and seldom suspending judgments rather than negating them. All this for utter emotional and spiritual emptiness.
The need to break free. To lose control. To take a vacation from normalcy. To explore deep-rooted anarchaic subcultures. To divorce the whys from the why-nots. To, quite simply, love.

...the alarm of the Zen clock and a lucid fantasy still waiting for an awakening.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

There has to be some kind of a clinical explanation for why we are a lot more susceptible to emotional breakdown in times of ailments like fever or flu. Or it might be just me...because ever since I contracted fever a couple of days ago, I've found myself closer to crying than ever before. Its so funny its not even funny!

An article about an Ethiopian Coffee Ceremony and free samples of croissants can do strange things.
It can make you travel across town for a coffee and then get you drenched in the rain on the way back. As if to deduct any pragmatism left of this, I chose to wear a Tantra t-shirt that said 'allergic to morons'. But Leela Palace was admittedly a 'starry' experience!

In the same vein of fever-catalysts, we have 'a rock show and typical post-show indulgences'. (I hate to assume such a high level of discretion on my own blog, but such are the consequences.)
Lets just say lying in your own puke for the first time ever renders you with a consciousness that you have achieved the lowest life function possible. Damn that OMR!

Wait, this might be guilt operating on a subconscious level to get me to cry. Bitchax!

So here I am, missing my inter-anals (copyrighted term for internals) and well on course to miss a bike-trip out of state. On the flip-side, I was never a major bike-trip fan...especially when it comes to riding out of state.
I mean I love bikes but prefer much the same way that I love milk but prefer a fruit-juice to a milkshake, ya know.

Atishoo! aargh...lying in your bed all day with used tissues strewn all over is about the next most skincrawling thing after warm toilet seats and flies in your lemonade. Tuffax!
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