Objective Type Exam - Which Pre-Defined Jerk are You?

Laziness, it's like a virus - a multi-organ penetrating virus.  It affects and infects insidiously, in ways we don't realize.  And as we feed it, it feeds on us.  Great minds simplify lives, when faced with the prospect of looming labor or hard work, or just work they don't feel like.  They come up with ways, ideas, inventions that simplify.  But simple, as they say, is never easy.  So other minds, when facing the same prospect, oversimplify.

There are instances where we mistake our tendency towards lethargy to a tendency towards order.  We feel it is us, venturing out into a big bad chaotic world to make sense out of it.  Chaos theory is different. The problem, like all exams, lies in the practical.  When we try to titrate chaos to make sense, or enough to get by (passing marks), we tend to oversimplify things in terms of boxing, categorizing, characterizing, stereotyping.

We don't just want things to make sense, we also want it to happen, preferably, without our involvement.  Just give us the highlights - the cliff notes version of sense.  And something is always lost in translation in the abbreviation.  It's primarily why people whine when their beloved book, that took hours and hours to read is condensed into a 2 hour movie.  Loss of translation and flavor.  Like a doggy-bag of leftovers, we want all that is out there to confirm to pre-defined carton shapes 
and sizes.  So first you pick your lazing position.  It's called your leaning, preference, tendency, political position or mindset.  All different terms to define a tendency towards a certain kind of laziness.  This is the prep work for future stereotyping and categorizing.  Like a nightmare sequence of badly edited transitions rather than seamless segue.  Oversimplifying can be like trying to fit a complex 3 dimensional character into a typical character class for an RPG action video game.  
Or like taking a set of identifiable data points to create a forecast we recognize, and then squeezing the rest of the narrative to fit in it (this is not a commentary on my profession.  I promise!).

Speaking of segues (now that's a segue), let's talk about movies.  Or movie reviews and reviewers.  Not just movies, a review of anything.  Even tech and consumer products.  We have pre-created categories of entertainment and consumer segments.  And each new offering is to be slotted into one of these.  Add to this the bias or outright disdain some reviewers carry (apple fanboy reviewers, I'm looking at you.  Take off those damn airpods and look at me!).  So anything that we look at is boiled down to a single verdict or worse, a single number (Rottentomatoes, you suck!  Go stick an airpod up wherever).  Meanwhile,  Buzzfeed tells me that of the six friends, I'm Chandler (yay!).  Because it has to be one of those, right?  There can't be any other type of person, surely.

Feminism, I Swear

So I walk up to a couple of fuming and pissed of females (first mistake) and try to be a do gooder.  Y'know, your average, altruistic, do gooder who wants to be able to help people vent their frustration.  The fact that I want to conclusively prove, that misanthropic, sociopathetic..err, sociopathic, female hater in general I may be, but sexist I am not is besides the point.  And I come up with the absolutely inspired suggestion of coming up with a few creative FEMINIST Swear Words.  The fact that I myself don't swear (okay fine, I don't swear OUT LOUD in public) hampers the proceedings a bit.  Kind of like trying to coordinate a Bollywood dance sequence while sitting on a chair with your hands strapped behind your back.

  The more disturbing fact is that my absolutely inspired brainwave isn't, well, inspiring.  In fact, there seems to be some serious resistance against the idea.  It just wouldnt give the feel I'm told.  And its not as simple as gender reversal.  For, you see, a good many of them are general neutral.  And then, if you happen to be pissed at men, targeting the men they may be close to with the choicest abuse just doesnt tick them off as much as targeting the women in their life.  This is applicable even if the uttered swear word is a whisper and unheard by the intended recipient.  Apparently the imagined chagrin counts for just as much.  Its the thought that counts you see.  So, then, stuck with the conventional again.  This leaves us with the category of swear words pertaining to the body parts that one generally covers in the name of modesty.  Funny word that, modesty.  Applies even if the intended appendage/part is nothing to write home about and hence not requiring of modesty.  But, moving on - the body parts.  That and the canine related words.  Notice how the male ones have been carefully cultivated into normal usage and hence sound quite harmless.  Dog is quite a normal word you see.  Its the female counterpart that is allegedly quite offensive.  Same goes for the abbreviation of the name Richard.  

  Strange how the male counterpart in a lot of cases is a harmless word, and the female version is more potent and offensive.  Now that can be construed as sexist or potentially as a complement.  Knowing females though, in these debates and arguments, they will act like the best of the pessimists (almost as good as myself.  Almost, but not quite).  They tend to see the negative aspect in everything.  So then there you are.  They will view this bias as offensive.  And continue to use the conventional swear words too.  Ask someone else to bake your cake, have your cake and eat it too.  And then refuse to pay the bill to boot.  But no more female baiting.  I am merely misogynistic.  Not sexist. 

   What it boils down to I guess is this:  Its the thought and satisfaction that counts.  And nothing riles up men like having the women in their life insulted.  Which is mean on the part of the men who came up with these swear words.  But a complement in a sense to women seeing as they mean so much.  But women will say its typical of men to trade quips and insults on them, thereby objectifying them.  They will say this with choice curse words thrown in (yep, the conventional ones.  Also, what about if men want to swear directly at women.  What swear words then?  And what about the fact that some pervs would be turned on if sworn at by women?  And what about the MPAA censor that is more lax on same sex activities pertaining to women than the ones between men?  And how is that even relevant here in this context, even as an analogy?  Oh, get over it, I'm not Freud.  If you wanted a semblence of sense and coherence with a modicum of sanity you came knocking on the wrong door.  Knock, knock? Who's there? Me.  I Kill You, I swear (or maybe, I swear first and then I kill you) - Achkhmed

The Real One

There is a point in our lives.  It probably comes in everyones lives.  On a different scale.  On a different level perhaps.  Disproportionate, but consistent nonetheless.  The point when you need to know which dreams to kill.  Long years in delusion, always striving for something more, without a burning passion just a fervent daydream to distract from reality.  But now, in a rut, in the stark and harsh reality of solitude, I realize that the time is here.  To kill my dreams.  All of them.  Strange though.  As goes hope, so does fear.  And stranger still, to miss that fear.  That fear was strangely, but resolutely tied to your fervent hopes and desires.  And then it goes, when the hope is extinguished.  All that is left is a horde of disjointed daydreams.  Its like a weird time warp.  The mind lives out several scenarios.  And as time passes, the origin of each scenarios changes and as the point of origin passes out in real time, the threads start pinching together.  Origins change, some of the scenarios/dreams fizzle out and new scenarios branch out.  

  But at some point, it needs to be nipped in the bud.  Getting reconciled with reality is a decidedly harsh thing.  It is infinitely easier to be living in the delusions, even when you know the eventual outcomes.  But there is just one problem.  Pining for glory after a certain point leaves you with no strength to even wallow in your mediocrity.  Just in my case mind you.  No generalisations here and today.  No arrogant, self aggrandizing, narcissistic rants about what we should/should not do, what the world needs, how it is and where its going wrong.  There, happy?  Now you actually have me ranting about MYSELF.  The one cardinal rule I had about blogging.  Gone.  Like the dreams.  Seems fitting in a way.  

   So here I am.  54 years old.  Accepting my fate.  Yes I am prepared to drown in the sea of mediocrity, under the harsh glare of reality.  But this isnt a struggle, one final flailing in a desperate, strength losing attempt to avert the inevitable.  Far from it.  This is acceptance.  As I sink peacefully into the seas of oblivion.  Oh yes.  About that 54.  They say you are as young as you feel.  That logic can be extended to old.  And rightly I should, considering the lifetimes I've lived inside my head.  I can only hope the daydreams stop.  Or I shall be moaning about this next year when I am sixty seven.  And be too lazy to even rant about it.  Umm, its 55 after 54 you say.  Wow, I really must be 54 to show such signs of senility.  Well guess what.  In here, your laws of time and space and physics do not apply.  Inside this head, its a twisted convoluted timewarp.  And time is exponential.  And only slows down during boring lectures/sessions/business meetings/awkward situations.  And the apple pies are laced with garlic.  Don't ask me why.  I am a senile old man who is going to go and sulk yet again.  Its not so good.  But not as distracting as a daydream.  And less energy consuming.  Also, you won't see me muttering to myself that much.  So there it is.  The reality check time.  You know how people say Grow Up all the time to some, and sometimes to everyone?  I think I will.  Grow up that is.  My Birthday gift to me.

                          Its Only Words...

Speech really is overrated.  Sounds became coherent, roots gave rise to words, words to verbosity, verbosity to flamboyance, flamboyance to arrogance, miscommunication, wars, more languages, more miscommunications, wheels within 

wheels, multiple connotations, tone, pitch intonation, complicated terminologies, then back to abbreviations and shortening of words and now return to the point of incoherence.  A full circle.

You idiot, you just claimed that there is only duality and opposing extremes, no circle.

Yes, but you did get the gist.  Speech is confusing and a waste of time.  If we could directly interface with our thoughts, a true meeting of minds.  There would be no room for duality, falsification, pointless verbosity and self aggrandising.  And no more grammar and verbs to think of.  Imagine that.

Uh huh, uh huh.  And I suppose the lyrics you keep quoting and those songs that you love.  They would somehow exist without the language?

Cmon guys, Music would still exist.  I am not banning or talking about absence of SOUNDS.  Just Words.  You don't pay attention.  Too busy looking to put in your own point.  Its not a goddamn GD for points or job.  Let us have a discussion.  So music would exist like I said.  And it would be instrumental.  And if words and lyrics never existed, you would never miss them.

This argument with words, where you use words to put people down and be mean ....

Would you rather I use my fists?  I am perfectly capable of doing that.

Shut up and listen.  Now who's interrupting.  These words, the snarkiness, the sarcasm.  You wouldn't have them without words.  

Hmm... and the Voices in my head.  Wouldn't be voices.

So the one relatively ok thing you possess.  The one measly, paltry thing you possess in the name of talent, nay basic human competence.  This humor.  That would be gone.

Funny could be slapstick.  Maybe the voices would be replaced by a Buster Keaton/Charlie Chaplin or Marx Brothers silent film.

Shut up.  Don't be absurd.  You know we are right.  Admit it.  You, more than anyone need the words.  Your only solace and salvation.

Fine.  You win.  I hate this.  Losing an argument.  With words.  And about words to boot.  I dislike losing debates.  I am going to go sulk now.  Piss off, the lot of you.

Oh thou Pineapple of my eye, how i Pine for thee!!!!

Broken hearts are apparently a big deal.  Not just people who have lost something, justifying for their loss by making up some vague consoling notion of having gained experience, life lessons, zen, deeper meaning, stared into cleansing flames and what have yous.  And none of that better to have loved and lost than to have not been such a schmuck/chump in the first place etc.  Naah, there seems to be some genuine gain there.  Somehow its like someone having ridden space mountain at disneyland.  You go to disneyland, you gotta try that.


   And so of course, its a great tragedy that I have never experienced love, let alone ill fated love.  Or its supposed to be.  How can I be creative.  How can I have musings without a muse.  So much for art.  Art is built in pain and loss.  And it has to be the pain of loss of love.  Nothing else will do.  Love is supposed to make you a better person and open up your horizons and instill acceptance and trust and stuff.  Its supposed to build character I daresay.  Or maybe that you deserved to be loved or had the capacity to love is supposed to speak volumes (not necessarily coherent volumes..for all you know they could be James Joyce ramblings) about you.   


   And then it hit me.  Pineapple.  Yes, a pineapple.  That green, ridiculous looking, crown wearing lump of yellow, juicy goodness.  I love pineapple.  I am apparently allergic to it.  Everytime i eat it, i get some itchy rashes on the roof of my mouth.  But then I forget the feel of the rashes, and the taste lingers as a faint phantom memory.  And so I eat again.  And then rashes.  And on and on it goes, this danse macabre.  So you see - Pineapple and I.  We are star crossed lovers.  There.  I have my epic tragedy in place.  So there.

Splitsvillains

Split right down the middle. This is so awesome. A new trend has caught up in our country. Splits. The demands of certain political parties, inspite of all their earnestness has the viewers in splits. I propheise Banana Splits to come back into fashion.

One can imagine the scenario in the days to come. Your Farmville land getting too big to manage? Write to the central government to authorise a splite. So many things in our lives are becoming unmanageable. We must consider what is splitworthy. Recently the common admission tests for management institutes were conducted. It was a massive failure due to

excess server load and mismanagement. Hey, maybe we could ask the exams to be split into two exams with ten day slots each.That might avoid future CATastrophe/CATatonic attitude of the IIMs....no? well how about a CATtle class joke?? forget it...

Maybe divorce/break up being the new trend is actually the root cause of it all. Maybe grown ups are taking lessons from youngsters after all. The cure for incompatibility - split. Or maybe, its just a desire to compete with America to see who has the most no. of states.

Some years down the line the splits could increase exponentially until everyone is living in his own isolated world. Hey, kinda like that flick Surrogates. They all make these dystopian futuristic sci-fi flicks and set it in countries like America or Japan which are doing so well. If you really want to be realistic, you would set it in India. India where everyone touts cultural diversity and yet cant wait to get rid of those different from others.

Ironically, this is a country where local sports team are fanatically supported as if they were patriots off to war. If sports is to be enjoyed, you could realistically support anyone that you like. But no, India means India. Until of course you have actually intereaction/contact with another person. In which case you can't wait to rid yourself of this pest who is so different from you.

Again a point of irony, irony and sarcasm being my only forte, Its funny how its only when talking of division, destruction and chaos that seems to bring a group of people together. While it may be true that a man fighting for his life is the fiercest fighter, in case of a mob, its the one bent on destruction that appears the most dangerous.

Empirical Formula OR Vampirical Formula

Vampire obsession of the world: The world is currently obsessed with vampires. Pulp novels, The Underworld movie series, Facebook applications (for crying out loud)even chick literature, recentlyturned into a movie franchise deal with vampires as does the HBO show True Blood. All this within the space of a few months. It were as if vampires are the new fad.

Fads, obsessions and trends aren't something new. They have been going on for quite some time now. One reason would be that if something sets people thinking, others choose to cash in on that mood by doing similarly themed stuff. Other reason is a lack of imaginative ability to go beyond what they are awestruck by and do something great themselves. They can only imitate the last person to clear the bar. The thought of raising the bar never occurs to them.

What is more disturbing is that not just the trend being imitated in a broad sense. The basic ideas premise established by a person are just blindly carried forward. And not just during the trend. The notions from the very first time the idea was concieved. For example, once established as pale people with fangs, vampires have never been depicted otherwise. And the

current trend has them all as pasty looking people with heavy eyeliner, a goth look and brooding nature. I mean, cant a vampire be cheery?? Oh, and of course they have to have werewolves as their mortal enemies.

People will jump onto fads because corporates will. And they do so because they fear to tread the new path. It has been ingrained into us to go for the safe route. Indians leastways never were adventurous or explorers. But the rest of the world isnt that different either. Drain the fun out of something and then crib that its old and gimmicky. But thats till the next bandwagon comes along and they can jump onto it.

The Networking Network



Another idea of mine related to social networking that I think might make a big hit is, Helplines/Call Centres for social networking. What are some good cool sounding status updates? What consists of an online social Faux Pas? What kind of photos to upload? What are the more cooler sounding quizzes and more hip applications that you could use to show off? Which communities should you pretend to be interested in to make like minded friends?


It would be so cool. My company would be the first of its kind. Multiple social networking sites could outsource their work to me. In exchange, in addition to the mandatory payment, I would ask the sites to recommend my name in the ADD AS FRIEND column to the coolest celebs and the hottest chicks on the site. I would have an army of people work under me.

The people would have to consist of menangerie from various walks of life. To satisfy the various geeky requirements of all sorts of online fanatics, the helpers would also have to consist of people from all walks of life. The cool hip, the wannabes, the hip hop lovers (yes sadly I would have to employ such people because others like them exist out there who would call the site. Of course I would handle all dealings with them while wearing protective gloves), the rock fans and some pretetious rock junkies, even the local filmi chhaps and haemass (Himesh) lovers.

Hell, I even think I'll have an associated photostudio to help people get the most flattering profile pics. Anything to milk money out of the nerds right?My readers, this is a great business opportunity I invite you to. Exclusive only to who read this blog. All..umm...well, three or four of you. Think about it.

Antisocial Elements


There are a lot of social sites floating around. I think the time is ripe for some antisocial sites. Sites which can be like your own private room. The applications and toolbars can be haphazard as you want without anyone trying to clean them up. Where you can hang the kind of posters that you want. Where you dont need to proclaim messages or status updates.

The big question - why have a site at all if you want to be antisocial. Ah, my readers (who are so scarce that I can count you off on my fingers) this is where you get confused. You are mistaking aloofness and a need to stay isolated from being antisocial. You will be connected with people. You will be updated as to their current goings and comings. But you are not to be polite to them. There is no ILIKE or FAN application. there will only be Thumbs Down applications. You cannot become fans. You can only become Detractors of things that you dislike. You only message or notify your friends when you have something demeaning or nasty to say.


You upload photos, but of things you hate or embarassing moments to make fun of others. You could share opinions about things that you hate and things that disgust you, knock down the pretentiousness that others hold on other sites. Say it like it is, bring out your inner geek or conformist. You could stop pretending to be a rebel, if you're not one truly at heart, without having to give up the anarchy. It would be theperfect frustation outlet.

Special Guest Column - Lizzie Laschon

Who Are We Really?

I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m trapped in the skin of someone, or better yet—something else. My outer shell is that of a girly woman-to-be, who is supposed to dress in skirts and cute ribbon blouses and smell of rosy, sweet perfume. That kinda reminds me of a time when me and a friend found a bunch of earth worms and started messing around with them and when I got home all covered in dirt and gooey stuff my mom didn’t know what to do with me. I sure didn’t smell all that peachy back then. But I’m digressing; point is: have you ever felt like you’re someone else deep inside? Like you’re just wearing this stupid normality cape that you stretch onto your body until it threatens to rip? A cape that helps hide your hidden identity and mask it with an appearance of normality.

Mine (secret identity that is) comes in many shapes and sizes but is basically the same: I’m a dork. When I was 13 it was that of a Sith lord, on a mission to subjugate and crush the weak willed (I’d be lying if I said it still wasn’t). Nowadays however I just hide it. I mean…c’mon, how many girls obsess about star wars and have allergic reactions every time they’re exposed to excess affection? Like vampires to garlic; or for that matter to excess girliness? I’m a hazard to my own species. I would, if given the chance, prefer to spend the whole day talking dork instead of spending one hour in a room filled with girls talking girly stuff. And I’d give my soul to cosplay even the dorkiest outfits known even to dorks. I’d even take an idiotic dare like eating worms over a full day of shopping.

So my advice is the following: whether you’re a fat guy who thinks he has ninja powers or you like to think you’re Superman, hang on to your super-identity because after all, that is what really defines who you are, now how polite you can be to someone in a subway or how high your grades in school have been but how super cool your hidden personality is. Because you’re as awesome as you think you are and that can only be seen if all those layers are taken away. Like the process of peeling an onion that results in making little kids cryJ.

So I conclude by saying: dorks all around the world, unite! (Live long and prosper ^^)