Friday, December 25, 2009

It Could Get Worse

Today, i went to see a hindi movie. Let's examine that statement for a while. What could possibly prompt me, a serial hindi movie hater to put himself through 3 hours of pain? Here are some scenarios that are plausible. No prizes for guessing which ones aren't.
1. He (being me) was dragged along by friends/girlfriend/boyfriend/family. We all know that his friends don't watch hindi movies, at least not the ones who drag him to movies anyway. We know for sure that he isn't in what is termed as a relationship, with either sex (and yes, he does specialize in self-cans). However, we do know that, just as James Cameron decided that his next project would be based on the work of David Firth, his folks from outta town are in town. So maybe they dragged him along in an effort to include him in some family outing.

2. He saw a trailer of the hindi movie and enjoyed it immensely. This hence justifies his need to watch the movie. It however, does not justify his so called heterosexual stance.

3. He was eating food whilst inebriated, and you can't really blame anyone for being inebriated. The obvious argument is that he doesn't do any inebriating devices, and that one can't just throw food in there because he likes food. But then, what is obvious these days?

4. He was wandering aimlessly with an eye patch over his good eye and ended up in Sterling instead of the vasectomy clinic he was looking for. Get it? Comment if you don't; and yes it actually does mean something.

5. He mistook the hindi movie for the newly released 'Avataar'.

6. He went for a hindi screening of 'Avataar'.

7. Avataar.

Anyway, before i got sidetracked a bit there, i was talking about the hindi movie i went for. Now, i categorize my thoughts:

My Expectations:
I went to the movie expecting a badly edited; badly dubbed two-bagger. I went there expecting to laugh my ass off at the expectations of the director from the audience. I went there, expecting to be entertained by the badness of the movie.

My Reactions:
The movie, surprisingly has sync sound, so that, in addition to being a welcome surprise, also made the movie look semi-professional. The sync sound guys did do a good job there. The movie has no 'songs' in the general hindi-movie way. What is does have is a very prominent score, and here they do score some points (I'm indulging myself there) in my eyes. The score is reasonably well done, with flashes of awesomeness. What with the sync sound and good score, the movie's audio does do very well. The editing and shooting style, apart from being pointless at some points (hah!), is sometimes just lazy. I counted 5 continuity errors in my first viewing; and i'm sure more will come up if i ever do see the movie again. The acting is good, but like all hindi movies is generally exaggerated. I see this as a fault of the director, as they expect this kind of acting; so this is what the actors provide. By actors, i mean actors and actresses, of course. But i refuse to satisfy feminists, for their satisfaction levels are like Chelsea's transfer funds.

All in all, the movie isn't bad. It does drag at some points, but don't all movies? Of course not, but that made for a nice line, didn't it? I like asking the reader questions, it makes them think. It makes you think. Even better is providing the answers after the questions. This makes you think the way i want you to, doesn't it? You're homosexual.

PS: Vampire Weekend - Cousins

Monday, December 21, 2009

Pain, Misery & Doubt

Yet again, we experience pain and misery; and yet again, we have all the excuses to defend ourselves. But yet again, we were pathetic. It's just like those fantasy football games we all used to play. Each team had three formation options going into each match-attacking, defensive and counter-attacking. Defensive worked best against counter attacking; attacking worked best against defensive; and counter attacking worked best against attacking. From this we can figure out what won't work against what.

Stating facts: Portsmouth fielded an immensely creative and attacking formation. Liverpool fielded an extremely defensive formation, in addition to a left back in midfield. Logic said that Liverpool were going into this one hoping for some Torres magic and a 1-0 win or a draw at the very least. Logic also said that Portsmouth were going into this one looking for a win over a team badly lacking confidence. Fuck Logic, i said. We have Torres, and in him alone, we have a counter attacking presence like none other. That bit didn't work out too well either.

Of course, it can be argued that Dossena is pathetic at the back, and his only real skill lies in his creativity and his forward forages. The fact remains that he is simply not Riera, Aurelio or even Babel, for that matter. It can also be argued that with Torres in front, Liverpool were as close to counter attacking as they could get. Yet again, it seems that the best goals are always scored against Liverpool; and yet again, it seems that the referees just don't like us.

I'll still defend us when them Mancs try to shove their noses in our butt cracks; but will i really believe it? Is it really the end of Rafa? Mark Hughes has gone, and will Rafa go too? God knows that if anyone's a bandwagon humping cowboy, it's the esteemed 'owner' of Liverpool, so will he look for the quick fix, or will he stick with the fans?

There's just too much doubt. When i see the Liverpool's starting eleven, i don't see creativity and a top four squad. It doesn't matter who's to blame, i just don't see it. I see Arsenal, City, Villa, Chelski and even the fucking Mancs' quality, and i don't see the same in Liverpool. It's no surpise that fucking Birmingham are above us right now.

I don't care if we don't make the top 6, i just want to see some heart, man. Where is the fucking heart? What defines Steven Gerrard? His skill, speed, accuracy, passing ability or his sheer ability to motivate?

Keep the fucking faith, Liverpool.

PS: You'll Never Walk Alone - Gerry & The Pacemakers

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Two Album Reviews & Why One Must Hate Luke Kenny

Now, before i make my point, i ask you to go back to your kid days-when you were an amateur music listener. When i was a kid, i listened to what my friends told me to listen to and that pretty much defined what i liked. My friends at the time listened to hindi music, hip hop and pop; so i chose from what they gave me and naturally ended up liking stuff like Blue, Backstreet Boys, 50 Cent, and Bombay Rockers. You can laugh now, but that's what i liked, and to be fair, noone introduced me to the awesomeness that i spend my time listening to now. But the point i'm trying to make is this: we've all had our faggoty-music-listening-to-days; whether we admit it or not; and stuff like that does sound good, even if we don't admit it or even stop listening to it completely.

Now, with my new found musical tolerance, i find that i'm able to appreciate everything. Of course, there'll always be the odd Karun, Harry and Bhende laughing at me for listening to what i'm listening to, but who the fuck cares? I listen to what i like, and i like what i listen to. I have no patience whatsoever for musical judgers. Hence, i go ahead with what will soon be termed as the most faggoty thing i've ever done.

Album: Here We Go Again by Demi Lovato

After listening listening to this album, one of the first things you'll want to see is whether she can pull it off live; and i was extremely sceptical before i went to THE YOUTUBE! I managed to find two live performances of the title track and 'Solo'; and i was fucking blown away. I didn't hear ONE off note; and these aren't easy songs either. I rate her above Brandon Boyd in note perfection, and that's saying something (Incubus, for those who don't know who he is). In fact, i had a strong feeling she was lip syncing, but i double checked with a cam recording of a different performance of the title track; and she really isn't. She is THAT awesome. Just listen to her album.

Anyway, now that the rant is over, the actual content of the album: It's basically a Pop-Rock album; a lot like what one would expect Avril Lavigne to do, only a lot brasher musically. Avril may have more persona, but her music lacks the awesome Rock feel that this album has. Of course the album has the usual boy-centric songs and the pop elements and all of that, but it's all done really well, and the beauty of it all is that the band pulls it all off live. In addition to all the soft, heavy and pop elements that she incorporates in her album, she also has a song that sounds like her take on Amy Winehouse-Every Time You Lie. Yet again, the lyrics are cheesy, but really, when has that ever been a problem? Iron Maiden listeners should agree.

I haven't really done justice to it, but it really is an awesome album. Even if it'll probably be the soundtrack for every teen movie there is.

Album 2: New Moon Sound Track

I was reading HT Cafe the other day (the music section-the only worthwhile page there is in that tripe), and i came across some album reviews by Luke Kenny. Now, ordinarily i'd just gloss over it all and move on, but seeing that i now have an unlimited download scheme; i decided to give his opinions a test. He gave the New Moon Soundtrack a 4/5, and this piqued my curiosity. So i decided to download the album. I've regretted this decision ever since. Don't do it, just don't. I heard every song except for the Death Cab For Cutie and Muse songs, and i was sorely disappointed. Out of respect for the two bands i actually like, i will not listen to those songs. You know, i'm not even gonna waste more space or time on this. Just don't do it. I give it a 0.5/5. I actually rate it, that's how much i hate it.

The moral: don't trust Luke Kenny's opinion, he's just another asshole.

By the way, here's a funny story. This instrumental band managed to get through to the Launchpad qualifying rounds. You know, the ones with the panel of judges and all. Anyway, before the band started their qualification round performance, Luke Kenny stopped them and said: "You can't perform as an instrumental band, you've gotta have a vocalist". They argued for a bit and then didn't play. But yes, that, to me, is a little fucked up on Luke Kenny's part.

PS: Jamiroquai - Too Young To Die; Demi Lovato - Every Time You Lie; Electric Light Orchestra - Four Little Diamonds.

Playing On Time

When it comes to studio recording, most musicians get really nervous because of that dreaded click; and i was one of them, till i realized the secret behind playing in time. The secret is what i refer to as the three con's of recording.


One must always listen to the click and ensure that one is in control of the accents and in tempo. One must know the song well enough to listen to the click and not concentrate on the actual content. One should never just listen to the accents and ignore the rest (pretty much); continuous listening is required. One must always be conscious of the click's presence and keep it in mind. Most importantly, one must concentrate on the click. One sees awesome musicians grooving and looking really cool while playing in time; they've either just gotten used to high concentration levels or are hiding their concentration. With these three simple steps conquered, one can effectively play in time (pretty much).

However, the most important part is practise with a click track. A person who has recorded before will be much more at ease with a click track that someone who hasn't; and someone with a decent level of experience will definitely be better at staying in time.

And that concludes my preachy seminar. I only wish i were good with a click track.

PS: Good Love Is On The Way - John Mayer Trio.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

How Can Anyone Hate It?

It's been a while since i've felt this feeling. I just watched Ocean's Twelve, and really, it's been a while. The other day, i heard someone telling someone else about how Movie and T.V. standards are going down; and at the time, i snorted to myself. What a fucking cynic, i thought; go make love to your uncle who can quote every line from Airplane if you love it so much. Of course, at the time my thoughts weren't so harsh, but it makes for a good story. Anyway, as i was saying: What a fucking movie.

This other friend of mine kept going on about the awesomeness of the humour in the Ocean's series; and i just kinda phased those statements out. Now, however, with two thirds of that journey complete, i realize that he was so fucking right. I've never seen humour like this. When the movie started out, i laughed a lot; by the time it really kicked in, i was still laughing my ass off; and by the end, well, i was still laughing. I love subliminal humour. Anyway, at the beginning of the movie, i felt like i was going to watch the American interpretation of a Guy Ritchie movie, and it seemed disgusting at the time. Now it just doesn't seem true. By the time the movie really kicked in, i felt like i would have to wiki the movie after to understand everything; and this disgusted me. Now, i realize that it was supposed to make me feel that way. By the time the movie reached the ending, i truly realized and understood what Demi and Harry had been saying all along- that it is just fucking awesome.

If you put that many awesome actors together in one movie, it's gotta be good, right? The argument seems fair now, but it's deeper that just that. Incorporation of so many superstars with equally justifiable roles must've been a nightmare, but it's paid off. I don't know about box office returns or whatever, but it's paid off in my eyes; and a satisfied viewer is all that a movie maker should really look for, isn't it? How idealistic of me.

One thought that comes to mind after watching it is: I'm sure Matt Damon did what Halle Berry did after X-Men 2. Halle Berry refused to come back for X-Men 3 unless they gave her a more 'significant' role; and so they did. The movie still was awesome, but i did lose a bit of respect for Halle Berry. Just a bit. Anyway, i'm sure Matt Damon did the same thing; but the movie was still awesome, so i don't really care that much.

I'm still reeling from the film's awesomeness. I'm glad i didn't watch this one with my parents.

Interesting trivia from the movie's soundtrack: The main theme has a complex poly rhythm. There are two clear parts which are at different tempos, but they aren't overlapping. They are played one after the other in a verse-chorus sorta format. I hope this makes you listen to the theme. Or at least wiki Poly Rhythms.

By The Way, the feeling i refer to in the first line of this post is the awesome feeling one experiences after watching an awesome movie. Just to clarify.

PS: Rob Thomas - Wonderful, Fire On The Mountain; and for those who haven't heard his earlier songs-Lonely No More, This Is How A Heart Breaks.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The Result Outstrips The Aim

That, my friends, is an awesome line. It's a shame that it doesn't mean anything. What i'm trying to say is that i wanted to start Pitendencies as a place where i vent; say all the stuff that isn't Politically Correct; and be fucking racist, man. Just because i can't normally. I don't need to say that i'm not racist, but i hate the fact that i can't be racist. That was my initial aim.

Of course, the awesome thing to say now would be that i really love the way this has turned out, and that it was all worth it. I honestly don't know.

I try to reach my initial aim and be all PI, but i seembly cannot. Simply, really. You can't force yourself to write, now, can you? That's a complete lie, of course you can; but the point is this: yet again, i have no point.

PS: The Virgins - Rich Girls. I've heard their other songs are shit, but who cares, really.

Monday, November 30, 2009

How I Function

I cannot function without inspiration; and i don't mean inspiration in the Steven Gerrard way. The Steven Gerrard way of inspiration, for those who do not know, is 'leading by example and thereby inducing results by sheer awesomeness'. Steven Gerrard will score a spectacular goal, make an awesome tackle or give a brilliant through ball, and will hence goad his team mates to try and reach his own level of awesomeness. That is what is portrayed as true inspiration; and that is precisely what i do not feel.

I see people doing shit, and i feel jealous. So i do shit. If i see people aren't doing shit, i don't feel jealousy and hence i don't do shit. Y'know? By shit, i mean stuff; but you know that already, don't you, you awesome reader. You beautiful, handsome, clever ape. You ape aping, grape gaping, Bolton Wanderer. You toilet paper, you.

Functioning for me is a way of life; and what really, is life? Life is a bunch of functions that are verbs. Life is the void that one feels when one is in a crowd. Life is the awesomeness that one feels when one's team is knocked out of the Champions League. Life is the eccentricity that one foregoes to pre-determine change. Life is more than just a full stop, and anyone who stops with a Life Is.

The point i'm trying to make is that i'm hopelessly writers blocked. I feel empty inside.

The bright side is that Liverpool have won their last two games; and that i have awesome music to listen to.

PS: The Fort Minor album really is awesome. The Demi Lovato album is ruddy brilliant.

Monday, November 16, 2009

"Follow Your Instinct"

People keep harping on about the wonderfulness and the awesomeness of 'Instinct'. Books and Movies keep glorifying characters who rely primarily on their intuition or instinct. From what one sees, hears and reads, the definition of instinct, as i gather it is the gut feeling that warns people about problematic situations and helps them overcome the same. It is often shown that blindly trusting your instinct is a good thing, and one must always go with it. You get the drift, right? Characters like Hercule Poirot from Agatha Christie, the Jew-Killer from Inglourious Basterds, Michael Weston from Burn Notice and countless other heroes/villains have this legendary power of control over instinct. Of course, i could've named more famous people, but this is what comes to mind.

Now here's my complaint. It doesn't work for me. Maybe i'm like George Coztanza in "The Opposite", and my instincts are self destructive; or maybe i don't know what my instincts are, but the point is that every time i follow my instincts, i end up like a fool. People don't talk about the huge risk that you're taking every time you follow your instincts. Lines like "Follow your heart, and not your mind" have become clich├ęs.

Theory 1:
Maybe i don't recognize my instincts and i'm trying too hard to follow them. This is probably what a counsellor or the logical thinker will tell you. Maybe i'm looking for a quick fix to a problem and i'm expecting too much from my instincts. Maybe instinct is meant to be used sparingly.

Theory 2:
Maybe what i'm following isn't really my instinct, and i've tapped into what i think is my instinct. In my desperation to reach that level-of-awesome-intuition maybe i'm ignoring my instincts.

Theory 3:
Maybe instincts don't exist and it's all a media farce. Maybe it's all a ruse to get people to purchase items based on what they think is their instinct when it's just pure stupidity. Refer: Point of Purchase Marketing.

Theory 4:
The world doesn't exist and we're living in a simpler version of the matrix. Neo doesn't exist. Everything is an illusion, and enlightenment doesn't exist.

Theory 5:
People eventually got tired of the constricted nature of briefs and went on to boxers. However, what they didn't know was that the race of boxers were just extremely pissed off at missing out on Christmas, and the death of Muhammad Ali didn't really help matters for the human race. I know this theory leaves females out, but well, they got Feminine Intuition, didn't they? Fucking misers.

Theory 6:

The Point:
Every time i follow what i think are my instincts, i get fucked. Be it in Fantasy Premier League, or in GTA, or in the exams. As Ricky Gervais rightfully said: "Fucked". I'm sure it doesn't exist. The same goes for Feminine Intuition.

PS: Bang Bang; Something Stupid; These Boots Are Made For Walkin' and the whole Greatest Hits album, really. Nancy Sinatra.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Exaggeration & More

I remember being so proud of myself when i first used the word "exaggeration". I was bitching to my mother about an uncle of mine who did the 'said deed' a lot, and she kind of ignored me in the lovable way that parents ignore kids; and the incident was forgotten. But since then, every time i used a word out of the ordinary; a word i'd never used before or a word i'd recently learnt, i'd experience this literary thrill. See, it isn't the greatest thing in the world, but it is nice; and i won't try and hyperbole it out of proportion here. Hah! If that made no sense, then YOU need stop being such a grammar nazi. No Humour For You!

Anyway, this post isn't about big words and my usage of them. It's specifically about: "Exaggeration". I find that people use exaggeration as a defense mechanism when narrating stories that aren't really that interesting.

People aren't really used to moderation. It's useless to have a non-committal viewpoint of something; and as a result, you'll either get ignored or misinterpreted as being negative. Eg. Piki asked me the other day: "What do you think of the tone of guitar and processor?". I replied: "It's okay, man." I meant it. It was okay, it was neither good, nor bad. If i heard his tone, i'd move on to some other aspect of the music. It's the musical equivalent of those run-of-the-mill, forgettable faces' that spies tend to have. This may be perceived as a bad thing, but in my opinion, it really isn't.

Another, really frustrating example: When you want feedback, generally the best way to get it is to ask directly. So, the other day, i asked Aidan after a show about how i played that day. He said something to the effect of: "You were shit!". Now, i know how i played that day, and i really wasn't shit at all. I wasn't extraordinary, but i was just about normal, and i know that i didn't really make any mistakes. But what really bothers me is that Aidan proceeded to justify himself by exaggerating my 'shit' performance. It's a personal example, and i know i'm probably just venting my whatever here, but it is my blog. Hah! That's 1-0 to me.

The point is this: people say that the word "good" has lost it's value as it stands for mediocracy; but i don't believe in that. When people call something i've done or like "good", i know they mean "it's okay"; but when i call something "good", i actually mean something better than ordinary. I just hope people get this.

This post is inspired by 3 things:
1. My continued increasing dislike of all things related to Thane.
2. No post for a while, and the resultant insecurity.
3. The recent barrage of posts by Kyra and Harry; and the awesome new blog i found to read.

I've just read a spate of awesome posts, and it sucks that i can't even get close to them. But i take heart in the fact that at least i wrote something. So Hah! That's 2-0 to me. By the way, the next awesome song is Weezer - Run Over By A Truck.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Sharpening The Resolution

I've always scoffed philosophy and non-fiction. As a sarcasm loving un-serious indivisual who revels in slapstick humour and it's derivatives, i seriously under appreciate these things (Philosophy and non-fiction). I've always perceived them as boring and uninteresting albeit useful for old ladies and mid life crisis sufferers. More importantly, i've always considered myself as not the target audience to which these things are advertised to/portrayed towards.

I now realize and understand firstly, the semi-truthfulness of my beliefs and secondly, the narrow viewpoint with which i look at things. With my now broadened perspective, i have come to realize that although most non-fiction is hypocritical, sleazy and a business for money laundering (in my opinion), to change the way one looks at it, one must change one's personal viewpoint. I see non-fiction and philosophy writers not as those eager to spread their views and learnings but as those who choose to make a profit out of it. Both of these facts may be true, or they may be false. These writers may choose to eagerly spread their acquired knowledge, but the true purpose isn't an altruistic one. In fact, reward doesn't even feature in the cognitive process involved.

Non-fiction, as i now see it is a form of self-clarification. With philosophy, one can essentially create the ground rules based on which the new thought pattern/knowledge application will be based. It is nothing more or less than a rule book of your 'philosophy'. It is not meant to be read by anyone else, and the experience of writing about it, of clarifying the thoughts in your own head, of putting your thoughts cohesively on paper is equal to increasing the sharpness on ones TV from 10 to 100. You may be quite clear about your so called 'philosophy' at level 10, but once level 100 is reached, it is concrete.

Of course, i still very much hate non-fiction, philosophy and their derivatives, but i understand the writer's point of view. Just for clarification (!), when i say writer, i mean author.

I just saw Episode 8 of Season 4 of Heroes, and it sparked off a chain of thought in my head that i cannot seem to comprehend right now. All i know is that my new found understanding is directly related to the way that Heroes is made, and for this, i am grateful. From the point of view of the Heroes audience, the last episode took us back to Season 1, but made it more like Season 1 5000. I'm pretty sure the viewer ship will drop after this episode, and i'm even more positive that critics will pan it for choosing the particular story arc. Heroes, from the very beginning has shown it's roots not in superpowers and their display, but the relation of all events to two things at different levels:
1. At a lower level, the relation of all events to the time-space continuum, as 'we humans' choose to call it.
2. At a higher level, the relation of all events to destiny; and the influence of destiny on peoples life patterns and choices.

For me, this is what differentiates Heroes from X-Men or any other superhero tripe that the world can throw at us.

PS: I love the 'tripe'. Really, i do.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Trials & Tribulations

Liverpool just lost. I didn't even watch the full game. Again, all of us Liverpool fans will brandish our latest collection of excuses, insults and accusations; and the worst part is that they're all very true and extremely justified. It seems that we're attracting nothing but bad luck in increasing degrees.

Everything is just so fucking pissing off.

The media will yet again vilify the Kop; the commentators become opinion leaders more than fact providers and every ex player that Liverpool ever had will try to prove they're better than Rafa at what he does. Lines like: "Noone is above criticism" will be chanted over and over, and even though he really doesn't deserve it, the fucking cowboys will now be pressurised to kick Rafa out. That's a thought i don't even want to contemplate. Everyone will forget that we just made the Mancs pee in their pants last week; and the Mancs themselves will yet again regain that infernal swagger that they don't deserve.

The referees, the beach balls, the injuries, the sicknesses and the fucking cowboys. What we wouldn't do for some fucking luck..

Friday, October 23, 2009

Football & Catharsis

That, my friends, is genius. I know i cannot avoid copyright infringement with this one, but here's the site where i found that. Please check it out if you're a football fan:

I'm kidding, you really aren't my friends, and i won't disrespect you by using such careless terminology again.

See, i'm still very pissed off at the fact that people just say shit and look like they've won shit. Okay, well fuck that, i'm just really really fucking pissed off at them mancs. I hate them, i hate what they stand for, and i hate their fucking attitude. I accept that Manchester United are a good team; i do not accept you, fucking Man U fan. Bhende, this isn't only directed at you, so don't feel all hurt and shit. I desperately do not want to look like i'm saying this just because people i know actually read this.

It's a jumble of emotions, man.

No, but seriously, today's been a bad day; and not for the usual reasons that make my days bad. Let's explore this, then.

A bad day is one where i had to get up early for college. I didn't get much sleep because i slept late the earlier night trying to finish my project. I couldn't finish it in the night, so i procrastinated; and regretted it the next day. After college is done, somewhere around noon, i head home as i have no money on me. I eat food that i don't like at home, and get a hearing from my folks for another stupid reason. I want to sleep, but i realize that i have to go to Thane for a fucking band meeting. I cannot cancel on those humpers because being their friend is a hefty fucking toll. I go to Thane, and endure another painful experience, what with the usual oh-i-don't-mean-it-it's-just-in-fucking-jest shit. I reach home late and go to sleep. I feel guilty throughout because i didn't finish my project, it's overdue and my teacher screams at me in front of everyone. Public humiliation really is a bitch. The guilt is because in my head: i've brought it on myself.

Today was painful as i wanted to play football but i couldn't for some stupid fucking band meeting. I don't like meeting the band members unless we have to jam. Well, not the ones i met today anyway. The band meeting occupied my full evening, and what a fucking waste that was. Being friends with some people really isn't fun. This isn't a hidden reference, it's a general statement. I will ensure that i don't say what i don't mean to, and my paranoia helps this. Call it insecurity, if you will.

Catharsis at it's very best, my friends. You really are my friends.

The happy ending: I have truly come to realize the magic and awesomeness that is "Blood Sugar Sex Magik". The full album is insane, and i strongly recommend it to funk fans.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

The Devil Is Amongst Us. He Is Big, Fat & Red.

A quick snippet from Ricky Gervais' (highly controversial) stand up act:
This is a converstaion Ricky narrates between an elephant who is 'caught' swimming two miles off coast.

Coast Guard: "What're you doing?"
Elephant (Swimming worriedly): "Nothing"
Coast Guard: "It's not nothing, is it?"
*Elephant shrugs while still swimming worriedly*
Coast Guard: (points to a spot behind the elephant) "what's that?"
Elephant (Swimming worriedly) "Beach ball"
Coast Guard: "Tell me what you're doing"
*Elephant looks around nervously*
Coast Guard: "Don't look at him, look at me and tell me what you're doing"
Elephant "Swimming"
Coast Guard: "Yeah, you are", (Scolds), "d'you know how far off coast you are?"
*Elephant shrugs while still swimming worriedly*

Now, you may wonder as to what point that particular narrative carries. Or you may want to know how the conversation ended. Or you may question the point of putting it in this particular post. Or, you may simply be irritated at it's seeming pointlessness and it's frustration inducing properties. I could've put the full conversation up, but then, that'd leave you, the reader, satisfied. Contrary to what you may believe, i do not wish to satisfy you. I wish for you to be as frustrated and pissed off as possible, and then some; and Jennifer Love Huge-Tits on a platter of intelligence wouldn't please me more right now.

Now, i begin. The devil, in his final incarnation is amongst us. He showed himself at the Stadium of Shite last time out in the 5th minute, exactly as Nostradamus said; and if the celebrated prophecy-maker's prophecy does hold true, then the devil's next sighting may well be more than just huge and red. The Mayans did get it right, after all. Even if they were off by about 3 years.

The beach ball is the devil, in all his glory. We all know the devil's colour, size and ego. He chooses reincarnations that are red and big. If one looks at a beach from above, what stands out the most? The hot women? The dogs? The crabs? The sea? The shops? Or the big red balls that are bouncing about, strongly contrasting with the yellow sand? Yup, that religious terror that is now coursing through your veins may be 3 years early, but at least it's there. So even if you're not dying, you're at least feeling shitty.

Let's think back to the person who invented the beach ball. Everyone was happy at the beach. Hairy men and hairy women working out, swimming etc. Suddenly someone comes with a huge red ball, and everyone is transfixed at it's sight. Everyone now wants to just splash about pointlessly in the water with the stupid fat ball. Slowly, but surely, everyone turns fat, much like the fat red ball. Even surfing, the then popular sport/pastime, now faces competition from the fat red ball.

Mayan folklore has it that the fat red ball is a direct descendant of the devil's first incarnation's testicles. But noone repeats these facts, no no. Noone will tell you that within that ball is a flesh memory of all who touch it; and the final aim of all beach balls will never be voiced out loud: to kill all humans, and hump the Gujaratis.

Look at it from Pepe Reina's point of view: he has to compete with Casillas and Canizares. The poor baldie's not gonna get any games anyway. None really worth keeping for, that is. I don't fucking care if Canizares doesn't play for Spain any more, and i don't even care if fucking Victor Valdes is Spanish. The point really is moot with you fucking statistic relying chawnds, isn't it?

PS: Think about it. In the highly likely event of a global cataclysm, only a beach ball will survive.

Friday, October 16, 2009

The Return

Today is the 16th of October. My exams ended on the 10th of October. So, if you count the build up time to my exams and the exam time itself as non-blogging days, i should've posted something or the other in the last 6 days ie in the days immediately following the end of my exams. However, i do not control my own whims and urges, and i really didn't feel like posting anything at all. Hence, the silence. Now, however, my conscience will not let me be; hence, in order to appease my super-ego, i post.

Shit that's happened since you last saw me:
1. Dan Brown's new book is out! People like Daniel, who are well versed in the actual facts and history of the shite he talks about will probably hate it (much like they hated the last four); but i will love it. I must love it. In fact, i feel so strongly about it that i will buy the original, not the pirated copies.

2. Liverpool lost twice. Much like Gerry said: "It doesn't do half my head these days-supporting Liverpool". Now, i can't relate to that, but you get the general mood. Now, however, with the return of Dani Agger, the injury of Hercules, and the prospect of finally seeing Aquaman in a Liverpool jersey lifts my mood. The choices that Rafa has at his disposal for centre backs are (in the following order): Carra, Skrtel, Dani Agger, Ayala. This is taking into account the fact that Hercules is injured. Quite badly, it seems. Anyway, about the losses: I didn't get to see either of the games, but there are a lot of positives to take from them (from what i hear). Most importantly, the return to form of Masch and Carra. So even if Gerrard is injured (which i hope to God he isn't), it seems like we could just manage without him. Anyway, my TV is back, which means i get to watch the match at the Stadium of Shite. So hooray for boobies, then.

I could've written more, but that involves writing. Forgive me.

PS: Poets of the Fall - Fire; Vavamuffin - Vavamuffin on the road.

Monday, September 28, 2009

The Exams

The reason for the no updates is, of course, the exams. The worries are keeping from writing. I am hence sorry about the not writing part.

Of course, it'd be better if the worries made me study, but never mind. Maybe later then.

PS: Venice Queen - Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Manchester United Haters Anonymous

Let me start off by noting the significance of this date: it is the 20th of September, 2009. 20/09/2009, that is. 20092009, if you haven't got it yet.

Now, before i make my point with this post, there is a little information that you, the reader must know, especially those who don't follow football much. See, before this English Premier League season started, Manchester City was bought over by some rich fuckers who shoved all their money into Mark Hughes' ass in an attempt to bring in quality to their side (which they were painfully lacking). Mark Hughes, in response to the ass money shoving goes on a buying spree, bringing in players from all over. From among these players, he brought in Adebayor and Toure from Arsenal; and Tevez from Manchester United. There were a lot of other players brought in as well, but these were the high profile/controversial transfers. So now, Manchester City has become something of a super-squad of players from all over, much like Chelsea started their own spree about 4 years ago. Now, the transfers i mentioned were controversial because the players were integral players to their respective teams, and these players themselves claimed to be 'loyal'. You get the drift. So naturally, these players are hated by their old club fans for their hypocrisy, and this is justified. Anyway, Manchester City played Arsenal a couple of weeks back, and the hostility between the fans and Adebayor was pretty evident, and it escalated to a near dangerous level after the game. The fans, especially were screaming and booing at him from all angles; and he didn't exactly try and win them over himself. This week, Manchester City traveled to their age old rivals Manchester United, from whom they had taken Tevez before this season started. Throughout and before the game, Tevez maintained a sombre demeanour, showing no signs of aggression. His football remained the same, but his attitude was remarkably happy; and he ignored all the booing that the Manchester United fans were throwing at him. The fans, on the other hand, kept booing him more and more every time he touched the ball; and they didn't stop at any point in the game.

In interests of saving time, from now on, Manchester United is called 'United' and Manchester City is called 'City'.

I tried not keeping that too biased, but anyway, here's my theory: the United fans saw the extreme hatred of Adebayor and Toure that the Arsenal fans harboured, they, being the bandwagon humping chawnds that they are, immediately started the anti-Tevez furore. Adebayor publicly dissed Arsenal and it's fans; and therefore earned (or justified) his hatred. Tevez didn't do any of that; and yet suffered a whole lot more than he deserved. Even though he didn't show it, i'm sure he felt it; and he must be applauded for playing superbly under pressure (what a Harsha Bhogle sentence that is).

I hence hate Manchester United fans for their bandwagon tendencies and overtly dramatical theatrics. Fuck you, Man yew.

A lot of my friends are Man U fans, and true to the custom, they too have that fucking superiority complex that they don't deserve. Manchester United are exactly what Leeds are portrayed as in 'Damned United'; and Surd Alex is truly just a wannabe Clough.

PS: I appreciate Rooney's skills, and i'm dazzled by Evra, but that doesn't take away from the point of this post. Let Me Entertain You - Robbie Williams and Slow Cheetah - Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

My Mondegreen (Another Alliteration-also an alliteration)

So i was listening to 'Make Me Pure' by Robbie Williams, and it's come to my attention that the defining line of the song is "Make me pure, but not yet". Now, there's nothing that remarkable or extraordinary about this line. It's a nice line, and a James Bond reference and all of that. Now the embarrassing part. I thought it was "Make me pure, not gay", and i mentioned this here.

See, it's not that bad because someone told me that that was the lyric. So my mind made me hear it like that when i heard the song, and i was hence fooled into thinking that that was the actual lyric. Now, however, it sounds exceedingly stupid. Anyway, this post was just to clear this fact. I didn't want to edit an earlier post and shit. That's fucking hypocritical, man.

Now that that's outta the way, let me inform you that i love GTA III. Violence is the best.

PS: Make Me Pure by Robbie Williams (Again).

Monday, September 14, 2009

Punctuation Anonymous

In case you don't know, this is how it works in Mumbai: You finish school at the 10th grade, after which you enter what is known as 'Junior College' till the 12th grade. This is pretty much the same as normal college, only the teachers care a little bit more. After clearing your 12th grade exams, you enter senior college till the 15th grade, which is when you pass out with your degree. There are board exams at Grade 10, Grade 12 and Grade 15; and these are essential as their outcomes define what college/workplace you get into. In some places, you have regular school till Grade 12, after which one can joing senior college. There are plenty of variations, but this is the basic format. To get to the next year, you HAVE to pass the year you are in.

In junior college, the functioning is a little different from school and senior college. There is no homework and there are no projects. There are two exams per annum, one at the end of every semester. So obviously, there are two semesters every year. However, in senior college, there are continuous projects and homework etc; and generally, everyone has to get a printed copy of their project. Handwritten work is rare, unapproved of and generally qutie shoddy. So everyone either mails their projects to the teachers or prints them and submits them as a hard copy. There is hence a lot of copy pasting and work plagiarism involved, but it's all part of the experience.

Now see, i'm at Grade 15. I've been through it ALL. In school, we had to submit handwritten assignments; in junior college, we had unit tests and shite, and in the 3 years of senior college, we've had a shitload of projects, an overwhelming majority of which are done on the computer. My point is this: because of my continual project work on the computer, i know all about punctuation, because Microsoft Word (thank God for it) immediately points of grammar and punctuation discrepancies. Hence, i know that you put a space after a full stop or a comma. I didn't know this initially, but i fucking learned over 3 years.

Yet, somehow, most of my peers are fucking clueless. I dunno, maybe noone corrects them, or maybe they enjoy seeing those red and green curvy lines in Word, or maybe they just don't fucking know; but the point is: you've had 3 fucking years at the very least to learn about punctuation and shit. Some people have worked, like with a salary and shit; some people have interned somewhere or the other and others have even studied abroad; and yet, the punctuation errors keep unfolding. I could do a Russel Peters and say that it's all because Indians refuse to learn and shit, but i really don't want excuses being made for them (Not Indians, but them who don't know the rules of THE PUNCTUATION).

My peers send me 20 to 30 page long (at the very least) projects without bothering to proof read or correct their punctuation lapses; and it indeed is painful to do.

I may not be the best person to work with in a project, but when it comes to proof reading and shit, at least my fucking punctuation is on. That is the most basic courtesy. An unpunctuated document is like an alien. It's existence is of NO FUCKING CONSEQUENCE TO ANYONE. I still wonder why people think aliens existence matters. You think they spend billions of their currency to check if we exist?

PS: It's not a rant, man. I hate that word. I'm listening to Crackerman by Stone Temple Pilots.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

"No Change, Boss"

Frustration is a common emotion in metropolises. You know, the frustration one feels while stuck in a traffic jam, or while waiting in a long line for a ticket, or while waiting for your order at McDonalds, or when the lecture just doesn't seem to end. Those, and a thousand more. If you, the reader, can think of more tickets to frustration, then please do, and let me know. For it is always a pleasure to see other sources of frustration. I always enjoy misery more than happiness. Others misery, that is. A good example of this is Simon Cowell (the British judge from 'American Idol'). People keep questioning his cynicism (which, coincidentally is why he's there as a judge in the first place), and he keeps trying to tell people: If he sees someone doing well for themselves or being a success, he doesn't 'feel happy for the person'. He hates it, and you can choose to live in denial, but you can't deny you feel the same as well. Unless it's your own achievements we're talking about, obviously (but you know that).

Anyway, my primary source of frustration is the blank look that cabbies, ticket counter waalas and sellers give you when you hand them a big note (say Rs. 100 and higher). "No change, boss" is the general refrain, and this is painful; because then the hunt for change begins. The moment one sees the face, one realizes that one has lost 5 minutes at the very least.

However, let's delve into this a bit further. Who is at fault here? Is it the cabbie, who always gives the dirty look that says: "How is it my fault if you don't have change?"; or is it the consumer, who's logic is: "I have money to pay him, it's only fair that he should have change for me." The cabbies invariably argue for ages with you once you tell them you don't have change. It is apparently your own fault if you enter a cab and don't have fucking change. You have enough money to pay me, but i don't have enough to ensure you pay me what i deserve and not more.

My solution: Before i enter cabs, i ask them: "D'you have change for a hundred bucks?". It's worked so far.

A friend of mine told me a story that made my blood boil. He was sitting in the back of a cab when the cabbie broke a signal and got caught. The moment he saw the police guy coming for him, he reached into about 5 different pockets all over his body, took out about 2000 rupees and handed it to my friend for safekeeping. When the 'hawaldar' finally came, he handed him 200 bucks saying: "This is all i have". Anyway, the point of this story is: Don't let them cab fuckers fool you into believing they don't have change. They have so much change that their fucking hands gleam of silver everytime a rainbow comes up in the sky. Cabbies are evil, man. EEEVAAELLLL.

PS: I'm listening to Surrender by Billy Talent, and it is indeed awesome.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Fence Straddling

What do i deeply detest? I hate when people always put up their sorrows online. I hate when people keep posting rants and worries on their blogs/tweets/facebook statuses/personal messages etc. It's okay if you do it once in a way. By that, i mean say, once a month; but anything more than that and it's just fucking attention seeking. I know, i know, people can argue that depression is the most common emotion and all, but don't fucking spread it. I have 'friends' who continuosly post shit like: "i'm so down today", "i hate my lyf" and "sad song lyric". Nothing depresses me more.

However, now i can relate just a little bit. I haven't blogged at all this last week for two reasons: Firstly because i just didnn't have anything to say; and second because i've spent most of my free time worrying about my academic scene. I'll talk about that in a later post, once it's all worked out. Anyway, this worry dogs me wherever i go, whatever i do. It's this nagging thing at the back of my head that just doesn't fucking leave. I just figured out (as i'm writing this) that it's my conscience.

I realize that in my attempt to not be like them fuckers who do keep writing sad, sentimental and deeply emotional posts, i'm just stuck being funny. There's no other option, and this works against me when i'm not doing that well emotionally. Which is, as they say it in Mumbai, the ''fuck-up''.

In direct contrast to these Emotionally Public People are the Always Must Be Funny/Always Must Be On Top People. These people MUST always be funny, and they NEED the upper hand. I realize i shouldn't be either of these, and hence, this is my way of not being funny, and hence being funny at the same time. It's my fucking solution, and whether it works or not is of no consequence. Unless i get hate mail, of course. But like some media fuck said:
I'm not fucking quoting media people man, what do you think i am? Sheesh.

PS: I'm listening to Make Me Pure Not Gay by Robbie Williams and Cheer Up by Reel Big Fish.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

The Rules Of 'The Picture'

This post is applicable to Facebookers only.

An excellent way to track sexism is via pictures. Let's dwell on that thought for a while. Everyone strives to have the perfect picture face. You know, the one that's neither too fake nor too attention seeking. One doesn't want to piss off the facebook judgers. A big huge smile that radiates happiness can't work, as people around you will judge you and say: 'How fake'. A non-smiling face can't work, as people will say: 'What's the point of that?'. The perfect picture is one with a hint of a smile; with preferably 5-6 comments under it. For this, one must have sufficient skill in front of a camera-the art of holding a smile for a long time without it losing it's shine. Women are born with this talent, and this is the sexism i was referring to.

Apart from the nice smile pictures, one is also allowed bonuses like a special 'fruity' picture or one that shows a hint of intimacy. Just a hint. The fruity picture can't be too kinky, otherwise one will be judged yet again. One can't have too many fruity pictures too. The risk of being judged is too high.

There's always that minutely embarrasing picture that someone has put up that you hate. Hence, you feel but obliged to comment 'eeeeeeeew, take this picture off' about 2-3 times. This is nothing but a plea for attention, and them who fall for this trap are fuckers.

There are also the facebook daredevils, who put up semi-nude pictures of themselves alone; or highly intimate pictures of themselves with the partner; who is also the person they are 'in a relationship with'. The Picture PDA-ers, if you will. What an alliteration.

What people don't realize is that in the struggle not to get judged, they get judged.

If you're wondering what prompted me to write that, or even think all of that, check this out:

PS: I dislike people who think and do everything. Like Rebecca, specifically.

PPS: I'm all for PDA. Really.

PPPS: Apologies for the copyright infringement. But really, noone reads this.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Situations & Scenarios

Man 1 says to man 2: "Yo wazz happenin', bee?"

YOU EFFING RACIST. Just 'cause he speak like that don't mean he's a black dude. You and your fucking stereotypes. You oughta be ashamed of yourself.

Situations where the line: "The game has changed" really isn't the right thing to say. This is a reference to B.B. King, who truly meant it when he repeated the line: "The Thrill Is Gone". Anyway:
1. Woman tells man: "I'm pregnant".
Man tells woman: "THE GAME HAS CHANGED!"

2. Scene: A Funeral
The priest is giving the eulogy. "....and may his soul rest in-" "THE GAME HAS CHANGED"- the zombie.

"The game has changed!!"

Bad situations for your folks to walk in on you:
1. Kid is sitting alone in the room. It's the middle of the night. No lights on, no fans on, all windows shut, all doors shut. The kid kneels and starts praying: "Lord, i'm deeply in love with you, will you be my one?"

2. Scene: The classroom. The blackboard reads: PRACTICALS. Below that, in the bottom left corner, in small font, reads: "Sex Education". The kid is standing in front of the full class completely naked, trying to pick a suitable candidate from the class. The parents walk in and say: "But this is a boys school".

Sexist Scenarios:
1. Board outside swimming pool reads: "NO BITCHES ALLOWED."

"We're like women, only we don't nag and have penises."

3. Bhutta waala on the rounds on Malabar Hill, screaming: "Nice, fresh, long and thick." This isn't really sexist, but at the time of my doodling in class (which was when i came up with all of this), i didn't realize that. However, i'm not about to edit it out just because of it's non-sexist nature. Come on, give me a break.

PS: There's this thing that Aniket does, where at the end of every post, he adds the song he's currently into. It's his thing, but i love, and so i'm going to rip it off. So right now, i'm into Slow Cheetah - Red Hot Chili Peppers; and all of the Across The Universe OST.

PPS: 'Bhutta' in hindi means corn. There are these vendors all over Mumbai who wheel these carts everywhere and sell corn at a cheap rate. This is for those who aren't from India. For noone, basically. If you aren't from India, then wow, i've gotten fucking big, man. Yeah!

Friday, August 21, 2009

I Seek Reassurance

Y'know, it might sound VERY childish of me to say this, but fuck that: i need comments. I need to know that people are reading my shit, man; and not just by fucking clustr maps (which is awesome, bee-tee-double yew). I don't mean only comment on this post (which is also highly unlikely), check the others as well. It actually would mean a lot to me; and if you know me, or think you know me, you'll know that i'm not generally this emo. I'm also known as 'no-emotion man', so this is quite a big deal for me.

You can comment even if you're not part of blogger/blogspot, and you can also comment as anonymous. So please do!

PS: Sentences should never start with an 'and'. I hate that word with a capital A. It should only be in y'know, the opposite of caps. Right, well.

Thursday, August 20, 2009


I realize that i'm alienating a significant portion of my audience (i like to kid myself) with this post, but you know what they say: "If one must alienate, then alienate", "Aliens are for outer space" and of course the famous "Life is like a box of aliens that've eaten all your chocolate". That feeling of religious terror that you're feeling right now, that's also tearing at your intestines is just that stomach problem you're having, and that feeling of insanity is just normal. It seems to me that insane people (mentally challenged) who suffer from stomach problems are quite fucked. The one place where people can be sane is in the loo. Let's face it: how many different ways and methods of excreting exist? It is the definition of sanity, in my opinion, and someone mentally challenged with a stomach problem has nothing to live for. You follow my chain of thought?

Yes, nothing to live for except for Seinfeld, of course. That's right. I just connected the numbers 1 and 2 to sitcoms, which, by an eerie coincidence are 2 in number (in this post, anyway). Yes, an unbiased analytical analysis of these two sitcoms.

For those of you who don't live in India, here's how it is here: we are overdosed on these two sitcoms. Three channels on daily tv have Friends on different timings (without fail, everyday), and there are weekly 'Friendathons', for those family get togethers on the weekends. Seinfeld used to be a daily show, but after about 4 years, they shifted to weekly 'Seindathons'. So basically, everyone in India who watches western channels, who has someone in that family who watches these channels or lives in the urban culture at the very least has seen 10 episodes of both these shows. Well, maybe more of Friends, but whatever.

Seinfeld: The Show About Nothing. Those 4 very basic characters; one appropriately slapstic (i love him DESPITE his racist-ness), one appropriately woebegone; one funny guy and one normal ocd infested girl. No storyline of speak of, no time capsule, barely any continuity and below average acting. Humour based on a dry interpretation of everyday events and absurd turns and reactions of characters in the show. There's a whole bunch of recurring characters, some of whom are neurotic at the very least, and most of whom are related to or have dated the lead 4. Purely situational comedy, continuous breaking of that fourth wall and no sentimental moments whatsoever. I love it.

Friends: The Feel Good One. The 6 basic characters with a HUGE recurring character cast. At least a third of the show has sentimental moments to it, and it displays a huge array of emotions and eventualities. It covers almost every aspect of the middle class life (the American one, anyway), and hence has the widest target audience. It has won the most shite because of this, and is by popular consent the most watched shite internationally. I don't give an octopus' tentacle (arseblog reference!) about the actual facts. This is my interpretation.

It must be said that Friends had a HUGE array of celebrities who guest starred in some episode or the other, while Seinfeld did too, but significantly less. Another very important point. Elaine, the lead female character in Seinfeld was NOT hot. As opposed to the 3 women in Friends, who are all shown to be very hot etc etc. Elaine, in my opinion, was deliberately shown as NOT hot to further her character as one of the four. Despite the fact that she was and is hot, the Seinfeld people didn't use that aspect of her in the series, spare a few moments.

I enjoy Friends a lot, mostly when Chandler's there in the scene, but almost every episode i change the channel when it turns sentimental as opposed to just plain funny. This may be because the target audience is more female oriented, but whatever. The point is, at these overtly sentimental moments, i cringe and change the channel. This has NEVER happened with Seinfeld. Of course, this may be because of the opposite of Friends with target audience thing, but whatever.

For me, Seinfeld over Friends, any day. Balls to sentimentality. Don't get me wrong, i do like chick flicks.

PS: I don't need research for this post. I've seen 'em all! Anyway, i don't research, that's just not how i function.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

The True Fan

What is a true fan? I'm talking about football, of course; but this can branch off into any sport. There's always the hatred of the 'non-true' fans by the 'true' fans.

The True Fan must know everything, and if someone tells him something about his own team, then he must say: "Yes, of course. I knew that already. Hunh!". The true fan must feel a compulsive hatred bred in him by other earlier true fans of non-true fans and other such fosers. The true fan must also scream very loudly every time a goal is scored/saved/good pass/good play/good tactic/good skill/water boy/any event happens. Okay, i'm branching off into football now, but you can derive what you will from here. It involves using your brains.

If the fan does not know shit, then he is not a true fan.

I had a lot of more points, but i forgot them all. Maybe i'll put them up later. Maybe i've already put them up and you don't realize. Maybe i should stop breaking the fourth wall or however that phrase applies to blogs.

PS: Fosers = fucking posers

PPS: I keep saying 'he'. If ever a feminist reads this page/blog and gets highly upset at the 'he' usage, my mission will be completed. For it is but an honour to piss off a feminist.

Just That Phase

I won't apologize, but i will stare. It's only fair.

Everyone goes through it.

It doesn't matter if your post is small, just updating is adequate. Look at all the 'most read' blogs. They're updated every day.


Thursday, August 6, 2009

Why So Honest?

I've just realized that i can't write about a lot of stuff here, because i've put my name on this site. Most of the people who do bother to read this will know me, but what if my family happens to stumbleUpon (i wish) this site? I mean, i don't want them to know some shite about me, man. Some shite that i have no issue telling everyone else. The answer is an anonymous blog. Yes. I will make a blog where i'll talk about all of my misdeeds etc, especially shite that i don't want my folks to know (For example, my WEED habits. Hah! Just a joke).

A special prize to he (not she, HE) who manages to find it!

PS: Women are allowed to search for it, i just don't like that they don't like when 'he' applies to humans in general. Fucking nakhreybaazes. I hate you, Reena.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Movies with Folks

The best way to bond with family is a nice family outing, right? With no distractions and suchshite. Where the intent is just to chill out, relax and have a good time. More like a vacation, preferably far from home, but definitely away from it. Of course, in these hectic times, we don't get time for family bonding. So we resort to the next best option: Movies.

A Random Paragraph: People can be judged while watching movies. Most basically, they can be divided into two categories:
a) The Talkers: Them who talk throughout movies, who comment on every possible thing, try their best to discredit the movie, try their best to predict the outcome, and voice each and every thought that passes through their heads. Their enjoyment is directly proportional to the amount spent talking during the actual running of the film.
b) The Silent Watchers: Them who watch the movie in silence, taking in every detail, and appreciating every little nuance that the movie brings to you. They are ideal to have around if you don't understand what's going on in the movie. The movie must be paused for a sufficient explanation. For them, the most cathartic experience is a movie spent in total silence. Enjoyment is inversely proportional to the amount spoken (by anyone) during actual running time of the movie.

Anyway, as i was saying, family vacations became too much too often, so families decided to settle for a more cheap method of bonding: Movies. "The full family goes to watch a movie and bonds so well" is such a feel good sentence that every guilt-ridden family member aches to be able to say it out loud. While watching movies with family, a little enjoyment is tripled in the head of the watcher, just to appease his own dissonance. But still, you know, the comparatively more formal atmosphere of the movie hall can still control the family in terms of loud criticism.

More recently, with the introduction of piracy in people's daily lives, the family outing has been reduced to mere movie watching on the tv in the living room. Now the younger generation is asked to download movies on the computer, transfer them on to usb drive/cd/dvd and watch them via the dvd player. This is the extent to which the family outing has been diluted. Anyway, this isn't the point of this blog.

I watch movie occasionally with my folks, and i've grown to fucking hate it. They ruin the movie! -After Da Vinci Code, my father kept laughing every time we passed a gutter. He'd nudge me and tell me: "The tomb of Mary Magdalene is in there".
-After Harry Potter, my pop would keep poking me with wooden sticks and scream "Expecto Patronum"
I could give you more examples, but you get the idea.

Finally, to the point of this long (needless) post. I just saw Ocean's Eleven with my folks in my hall on the tv via dvd etc. I loved the movie. But i couldn't fucking enjoy it at ALL. My pop kept rambling about the importance of subtitles and he kept bitching about the strong accents. They kept losing dialogue, and i had to keep pausing and explaining. They never understood what was going on, and in the end, they just criticised the movie. They criticised Ocean's Fucking Eleven. THAT is how fucked up my movie-watching-with-parents-scene is.

Now, they're trying to convince me to watch Harry Potter with them. Sly fucks.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

The Bias

Everyone knows what Malhar is. The biggest fucking festival that everyone loves to hate. EVERY participant complains, and EVERY volunteer justifies; and yet EVERY college tries its hardest to win, bad organization/attitude notwithstanding. It's Malhar, after all.

Malhar. With it's huge ass events and huge ass judges. Events like the band events, the dance events, the theater events etc etc all have renowned judges from all over. Renowned, UNBIASED judges. But anyway, let's look into that. What makes for a non-biased judge? How does the organizer foresee and prevent any objections that the contingents may have? Or at the very least ensure the judge's fairness evaluation?

Qualities of an Unbiased Judge:
1. They shouldn't know the name of the competing colleges (In case, they were ex-students or something like that).
2. They shouldn't BE in any competing colleges (For obvious reasons).

These, i think are the basic qualifications a judge at such a big festival should have.

Now, let's look at the acapella event. From what i hear ( i HOPE i'm wrong), a Third Year student (!) from Nirmala Niketan is the judge for the finals. He's not from a competing college, but still a STUDENT! More than that, an ex-Wilsonian student who's very vocal about his love for Wilson College. One can still argue that this doesn't mean he's biased, and that most judges are ex-students of some college or the other, and that there's no way he'd recognize the Wilson contingent anyway. Well here's this: he played in a band with Wilson CL's brother, and she calls him her 'rakhi brother'; and he is playing in a band with one of the acapella group members. And they BOTH know that he's gonna be the judge.

With all due respect to the judge, this may count for some sub-conscious bias, or at the very least it would play on his mind that he knows two of the singers in the Wilson group.

The same judge was there last year for the finals, too, and the same two people in the Wilson contingent were there last year too, and Wilson didn't even figure in the top 3. This can mean one of two things:
1. That Wilson simply weren't good enough, and the judge ruled fairly.
2. That the judge hates Wilson college, and hence deliberately low marks.

See, i know the judge, and he definitely won't be biased. At ALL. But that's not the point, is it? Any competing college, if they find out about this, can complain and bring this matter up, right? Malhar can always argue that he judged fairly last year, and so there shouldn't be a problem. But that doesn't matter to the college that raised the issue, right? The point is that there is enough evidence to show that he COULD be biased. End of story.

Personally, i don't care. It's probably better for Wilson that he's there. I should learn how to end blogs.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

The Formula To A Good Movie/Song

I was listening to "Open Up" by Dispatch (who are fucking awesome, by the way) today, and the song got me thinking. Here are the lyrics (or at least part of them). Check the song out here:.

they were looking for me when I came to
they were looking for me when I came back
said hey you, you're looking very suspicious
I said relax man get off my back
I said relax man get off my back

I, I, I ain't opposed to seeking justice
but you're going about it all wrong
the man you're looking for does not exist
he's just a figment of the higher man's tounge

(and they say)
open up we're comming inside
you can't run so you may as well hide
we got the place covered from head to toe, head to toe
open up we're comming inside
what's it feel like to know you're going to die
on the other side of the row
on the other side of the row

so they took me down to the gallows
and this boy he say to me
why do you smile when the rope's around your neck
I said I tell you boy when I get back
I said I tell you boy when I get back

I, I, I ain't opposed to seeking justice
but you're going about it all wrong
the man you're looking for does not exist
he's just a figment of the higher man's tounge
he's just a victim of the higher man's tounge

(and they say)
open up we're comming inside
you can't run so you may as well hide
we got the place covered from head to toe, head to toe
open up we're comming inside
what's it feel like to know you're going to die
on the other side of the row
on the other side of the row

hands above your head
que le via bien
step out of line we'll and fill you with lead

how are we to know that your not a liar
don't you see whe have a job to do
and our job is the law
you fit the description of a criminal crosser
we believe that he is you and that is your flaw
that is your flaw...
that is your flaw...

and they say
open up we're comming inside
you can't run so you may as well hide
we got the place covered from head to toe, head to toe
open up we're comming inside
what's it feel like to know you're going to die
on the other side of the row
on the other side of the row

Now, if you're too impatient to read all of that, then here's the explanation: There's this guy who's on the run who claims that he's innocent. And he sings all the verses and the prechoruses. The police sing the chorus and the bridge, where they ask the man to surrender, and where they justify themselves. Both sides of the argument are shown, and both are shown to be convincing. The last chorus of the song is a very soft one, and it gradually builds into this power packed outro, which serves as the 'final battle'. This is an awesome example of how onomatopaeic music can be. The lyric doesn't tell us that the police kill the man, but the music does, and that's why it's so awesome.

Anyway, the whole point of this is the two voices, or the two people, or most basically, the good vs bad battle within the song. THIS is the secret formula for awesomeness. EVERY movie/song in which there's an epic musical battle is a hit, or is at least one to remember.

In the movie: The Pick of Destiny, the final battle (Beezleboss) between Tenacious D and the devil is a long single song, and it shows the kicking off, progress and end of the full battle in ONE song. Incidentally, the devil is played by Dave Grohl.

In 8 Mile, the rap face-off shows the good guy and the bad guy clearly demarkated, with Eminem bringing the odds against himself by going first and doing such an awesome job that the other rapper had no response.

In Padosan, Kishore Kumar and Mehmood both vie for the love of the lead actress via song (Ek chatur naar karke shringaar/Ek chatur naar badi hoshiyaar).

I can't think of anymore right now, but you get the point right? Musical face-offs are awesome, and everyone knows and agrees. Just shove it in your movie/album somewhere, and you've got it made.

PS: My band 'The Hoodwink Circle' has a song called "Mirror'd", which is about this guy who is singing in front of his mirror (the verse), and the mirror sings back to him in the pre chorus. Finally, they both sing the chorus together. Both parts are sung by different people (Vocalist sings the verses, the guitarist sings the pre-choruses). The song's there on our site. The site's there on this page. Sorry about the inadvertent PR. Emphasis on INADVERTANT.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The Brothel

I get a lotta shit from my fraaands for not having a girlfriend. You know what i mean, right? When all the people around you aren't single, and you're left alone. Except for Nissim, of course. Sorry, man. But it's just you and me now. Anyhow, they keep telling me about how i should get a girlfriend and 'utilize my own resources'. By that, they mean my house. My empty house. Anyway, this blog isn't about me not having a girlfriend. It's about the house.

Hypo-fucking-critical bastards my friends are. In a week, i'll have people staying over at least 3 nights. I've even been called home when i was out myself (i didn't go back, of course. But still). They'll all go to 'chill' with their respective women, and when it's too late to go home, they'll come here. I SAID, they'll come here (You can't escape the blues, man). It's like a fucking whorehouse. But you gotta admit, it IS awesome.

Initially, my friends used to come with their 'female companions', and go to seperate rooms to have 'engaging conversation'. Not saaaax, of course. But a little making out and shit. Anyway, it got outta hand when i left my friends home alone. It's not like they were humping and all, but my maid still caught them kissing, right? At least, i hope it was just that. I really don't wanna know. So after that little episode, couples weren't allowed home for a while. It's not happened at home since, and personally i AM a little glad.

Not because i don't want people fooling around at my place. No no. But because i don't WANT to know. You know, if it happens outside my place, i won't really know, right? At my place. Ugh.

PS: I stayed over at karuns place about thrice a week in the hols, so i can't talk. But i will, because it is my blog. Hah. I win.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

"Get The Junk Out!"

Today, as i left my room to make that fateful trip to the dining room for dinner, i chanced upon my mother in not the best of moods. The wise thing to do on her part (well, the less womanly thing anyway) would've been to ignore me and go about her brooding/frustration. That i would happily tolerate. However, my mother being the orderliness freak that she is, immediately reminded me of my promise to clean out my cupboard. Her bad mood coupled with the fact that i had promised to do the said deed weeks ago proved enough persuasion for me to finally go and do it. And i did. Believe it or not. I just cleaned out ONE compartment, which took me about half an hour.

You wouldn't believe the stuff that came out. I'm still recovering from the nostalgic jolt that i just experienced. It's the kinda stuff that can be illustrated by the following example:

The Scene: Everybody Loves Raymond. Raymond's having a garage sale, and his wife (i forget her name) makes him clean out his cupboard to "get rid of all of his junk". In doing so he finds his prized Mickey Mantle (or some baseball player with a similar name) signed baseball, which his wife refers to as 'junk that you'd forgotten about till you just found it again'. To which Raymond says, "I hadn't forgotten about it, i'd tucked it away carefully at the back of my cupboard for safekeeping."

I found all my old notes, my class 11 assignments, my school board exam papers, my school answer papers, my school report cards, my school evaluation cards, my assignments, all of my handouts, my projects etc etc etc.

Anyway, i also found a lot of junk (literally) that my maid had just dumped in my cupboard, and hence i put it next to the bin. By junk, i mean my own junk. I'm not gonna ruin someone else's memories by such loose term usage; even though this IS Politically Incorrect Tendencies. If my mum saw what i'd kept, i'm positive she'd throw away half of the stuff, and seeing that it really has no point anyway, i can see her point. I still keep it, though. And fuck you, i'm not justifying myself.

I have an uncle who'd kept his toys and shit from his childhood carefully for his kid to play with, not realising that they'd get outdated. And they did. His kid (my cousin) plays his nintendo and suchshite, while the uncles old toys lie in the attic. Throughout my childhood, my folks cited the same uncle as an example every time i broke my toys (the few toys that i fucking got). Now, i wish i could say 'HA!' to them, but cheekiness is not tolerated in the family.

PS: Of course, the uncle could've kept his toys because of cheapness. You never know. Although i doubt it, seeing that he had this high paying corporate job with Aditya Birla. Anyway, now they're fucked na. Yup, he probably foresaw that, and hence kept his toys. Now he'll sell them and live the rest of his life on the money. Yup, that's why he kept the toys. Balls to the kids.

PPS: Dinner was conveniently forgotten about, by the way. Ciao.