Each moment of my life that I log on to the blogs summary page, I am usually greeted by the ubiquitous 'If you can read this post, it means that the registration process was successful and that you can start blogging...' blurb in the 'Latest Posts' section. The mere act of creating a blog seems to be enough to knock down the blood and sweat it takes to ham out a post.

Oh well. Those who have been putting up with my posts of late know that it does not take any effort at all to update a blog. Either that or the effort is so lame that the writing is unable to rise above it. I prefer to think it is the former. Whatever it may be, there is a minimum sense of reverence that every new post on a blog must evoke - at least in a web server - and by that minimum I am only drawing the line at automated or system generated blog posts ranking above those that require human intervention.

I realise I could have bypassed all this angst-venting on a public forum by writing directly to the administrators of this site. Where is the fun in that? Besides, when I come across something that I believe is enough material to make a post about I usually succumb to the lure. I am invertebrate like that - take the low road.

Much has been made of this low budget movie 'Hulla' making a mountain out of a molehill, in the sense that a two hour movie could be woven around the silly little premise of a watchman whistling. I do not know if the writer of that movie frequents this space because I seem to have quite mastered that art. There is one thing that I do know. More people are going to end up reading this blog than those who are ever going to watch that movie.

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Shaggy - It wasn't me
I have no morals or ethics. At least none that can be spoken of. You may even say I am morally unethical or ethically immoral or any combination thereof. Dennis Franz, or may be someone else, in NYPD Blue once said, "There is a fine line between what is ethical and what is moral." Of course, most of us would only remember NYPD Blue as the show that introduced on-screen nudity and objectionable language to pre-watershed television.

Since I am a man, I am pro VSNL (to the uninitiated, that stands for Violence Sex Nudity Language and not Videsh Sanchar Nigam Limited). And contrary to what people have begun to expect of me, this post is not about sex. I have come to realise over time that my posts on sex tend to get the least number of user comments, which is a sure-fire indicator of the degradation of the human race. Aren't we, by not appreciating in-your-face sex discourses, fighting against the very impulses that make us human? Therein lies the irony - are we human? I will not answer that question. Partly because I don't feel like it. Mostly because existentialism transcends insanity.

There is one aspect of note that I would want noted. Anyone notice that Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker's character in Sex and the City) is the only one who never takes her clothes off in the series? Why is that? As has always been my forte, I have a theory. Samantha (Kim Cattrall's character) is way more popular than Carrie. Parker knew that she could ever get more adulations than Cattrall. What does she do? She decides not to shed her clothes. So, sometime down the line, when all is done and dusted and people still remember Cattrall, Parker could always say, "Well, at least I did not have to parade around naked to get famous."

A very sad case of loser-psychology at play. Even sadder than the motto, "It does not matter whether you win or lose but how you play the game." I mean, who believes in that? The Indian Olympics contingent. Right. Ethiopians, training on the streets of Addis Ababa, win all the distance running events. Nigeria, training on the sands of Lagos beaches, gets the silver in Football. And all we do is crib over the popularity of cricket putting other sports on the backburner.

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Madonna - American Life
The Fountainhead is the best book I have read in the last two years. It is also the only book I have read during the time. Although I do not subscribe to Ayn Rand's views in their entirety, I do believe she hit the nail on the head when she spoke of triviality being accorded a revered status, and that, in more ways than one, would hold for her book too.

That said, no one writes with the intent to impress. I am assuming, of course, that biographers and myspace members do not come under the umbrella of authors. Writing is the most selfish of all human indulgences - you do it simply because it makes you feel good. But when a piece of writing that can only be termed plain, and that in a zest of euphemistic zeal, pleases the creator enough to have it out there for the whole world to read then it does not augur well.

It, in fact, raises two pertinent questions.
1. Was the writer blinded enough by her sense of false vanity to not see how pedestrian her piece is?
2. Is the writer genuinely not good enough to come up with something better?

The latter can and should be glossed over. The former is unpardonable. It is even more unforgivable in the light that connoisseur-impersonators would read between those lines that do not even exist, thereby interpreting such writing to be a victory or a successful way of life. Successful way of life? That can only happen in the denial cocoon we all live in, which is not a bad thing. However, seeing things that do not subsist by itself calls for a visit to the shrink. Then he compounds it by his number seeking ways.

I don't believe I will ever get over this number seeking business, more so since I happen to be "male number seeker's" safety bet. It is degrading to be thought of as a second, which is alright. But how would he ever digest that he even lost his safety?

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Door Gagan Ki Chaaon Mein - Aa Chal Ke Tujhe
I saw Om Shanti Om today. Nah, it was not an nth repeat - I lost my cherry. Movie buffs would scoff at me, I suppose. Fans of the actor/director would be up in arms, probably. Since I am neither, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."

Contrary to box office performance, I liked the movie. I could even love it. It had the potential to be an all time classic. But I am probably nitpicking. Perfection is hard to replicate, more so outside the confines of this blog. That does not mean I am above doffing my hat when I see something fantastic. I am simply amazed that this movie came from the same person who made Main Hoon Na, a movie that by setting the box office on fire considerably lessened the credibility that film collections had of being the prime indicative factor of a film's watchability.

Phew, the above sentence took a lot out of me. Perhaps I am getting too old and senile. That is besides the point of this post. There really is no point to this post, the same way there never has been any point to any post on this blog. However, I should like to choose this moment to insert a disclaimer: The point of this blog is to be completely pointless. Whether I have actually made a point by making that disclaimer is going to be a source of endless debate among the intellectually challenged.

The same way whether my point of view matters in the larger context of things is not going to be a source of endless debate since no one knows what the larger context of things ever is. Om Shanti Om, though, is a good movie. And it is a good movie even in isolation. Whatever I said about isolation in my previous post can be shoved up some unfortunate bloke's creek.

I have always held my blog in high esteem. Have never allowed this place to become a movie review forum, not that there is anything wrong with a review forum. It is the reviewers I cannot stand. But this movie made me. It is unlike anything I ever expected to come out of the Hindi Film Industry. It is the most spicy masala movie. Parts of the movie are brilliant, sheer genius. Importantly, as far as I am concerned, the songs were poetry. How can you not appreciate things like 'Chand teri roshni ka halka sa ek saaya hai'?

This hangover will take time to shake off.

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Om Shanti Om - Om Shanti Om
One of my all time favourite dialogues is from Kshatriya, a pretty obscure movie if you were born after 1981. Being as it was released in the 90s with no cable television or internet porn, yours truly watched it at least three times - twice in colour, and once in black and white on my granny's Beltek TV. Those were simpler times indeed. We were happier then with much little than we are sad today with much more. Whoa, that was quite an insightful statement. I had to read that over ten times to completely soak in its beauty.

Anyway, the dialogue. It was a scene between Vinod Khanna and Sunny Deol. Deol, who had just returned from London, wanted to get married to Khanna's daughter, which was impossible for the same reason that Aamir Khan and Juhi Chawla could not get married in QSQT. The father of the not-to-be bride (Vinod Khanna, of course) says something to the effect that their families share a fiery enmity to which Sunny says that you cannot fight fire with fire and you need water to douse the flames. This is when this gem of a line comes from Vinod Khanna, "Oh, and you have brought the fire-dousing water from London!"

In isolation, the dialogue itself is not interesting. Then again, in isolation nothing is interesting unless I happen to find Angelina Jolie in isolation. However, the dialogue has stayed with me for a good fifteen years now. In retrospect, perhaps those fifteen years were not all that good if the only solid memory I have of those years is that of a cheesy dialogue from a super flop movie. I should have got out more often, and not like those Goa trips with my parents. I probably should not have said that out loud. Hot women reading this post should disregard that statement.

This raises another question. No, not the question if any hot women read this blog at all. The question simply is this, "Would a woman continue to be perceived as hot if she had the time to wander in the online space reading some loser's ramblings? Shouldn't she be out there getting laid?" Another insight to nicely round off this post.

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Katy Perry - I Kissed a Girl
I don't consider myself to be a person with a particularly non-defeatist attitude. Heck if I were in a fight, I would run away today to be alive to run away some other day. It is not without my reasons, most of which are those of self-preservation, that I consider the pen to be mightier than the sword. At the same time, I do genuinely believe that violence is never the solution. We resort to it because we want to spare ourselves the effort to thoughtfully resolve a dispute.

That said, I have not come across a more resigned proverb than 'When in Rome do as Romans do'. Succumbing to the lure of being a sheep among the herd is even too much of a thing for my plastic spine, and my spine is pretty plastic. I could bend over backwards to get a woman to sleep with me, though for the life of me I could never fathom why it is this very bending over that seems to put most women off me.

Seriously. Why would anyone with a semblance of self-esteem ever want be a part of the crowd? Had Galileo believed in the Church's doctrine we would still believe that if we travelled to the horizon then we would drop off into the abyss. Had Martin Luther King not believed in civil rights the African Americans would have no right to vote. Had the Mahatma not believed in the then alien concept of non-violence we would not have a movie like Lage Raho Munna Bhai.

Yes, it is not easy to live with the consequences of your choices if they are not in conformation with the beliefs of the time. You will be ridiculed. However, to state "A girl with a Look Or You Miss tee won't get much crowd sympathy in Hyderabad if she gets into trouble." is like saying "It is not the rapist but the victim who is the perpetrator of the crime. The rapist was just the harmless participant."

I have never been one for saving the world through blogs, nor do I believe anyone can ever do that. The world cannot be saved, really. But that is besides the point. The point is when people who are a part of the so-called thinking strata of the society we live in make blanket statements like the one above, it is saddening to put it euphemistically. I suppose that is what being a Roman in Rome does to you.

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Buffalo Souljah - Too Hot Too Shii
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