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!