A Jar-Jarring Assault on the Senses

See, everybody pretty much hated Jar Jar Binks. And a friend and I couldnt for the life of us understand why. Maybe it was us, maybe we just had a low threshold. Maybe we were too easily pleased, laughing at crude comedies and being awed by any CGI laden feature that came our way!!! OMIGOD!!! Had we turned Bhopali??????? And then we read comments that people had on Jar Jar. Comments that resurfaced when there was debate regarding the steriotypical voice acting of some "black sounding voices" in the new Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. Jar Jar was hated for propagating racial steriotypes. His meesa going bumbling.......reminded people of the Yo Maan!!! Carribean. And not in the Johnny Depp swashbuckling pirate way.

And I ask you this. Is everyone black from gangsta rappers to typical wayans brothers nonsensical sitcoms any less guilty of propagating those stereotypes? With the honorable exception of Denzel Washington, Morgan Freeman and of course Will Smith in the movie business, isnt everyone black including Samuel L Jackson guilty of propagating that? And i do believe that the Jar Jar similarities may have been unintentional. And in entertainment, only the old jazz artists, Jimi Hendrix, Louis Armstrong and coincidentally the late Michael Jackson (may he rest in peace) fall into this category. Who is more guilty then, the people who in all honesty and innocence came up with a buffonlike comical relief or the people who read too much into every piece of harmless fun. Isnt the person who goes "Oh that guy is of so and so religion/race and he is in a negative character......SACRILEGE SACRILEGE!!" guiltier than the filmmaker who was just portraying it in an incidental and unintentional way. Whatever happened to freedom of expression. Artists of all people should be granted that. With limitations of course because their arts can border from the absurd to the scandalously outrageous.

And speaking of stereotypes, what about the Disney stereotype with the mandatory girl lead and the token black goofy friend. A white goof if the central character is black, the vampy bitchy characters who are intentionally less hot than the cental one but everyone pretends otherwise. There is always a pesky annoying brother. And three friends. One guy and two girls. Isnt this nonsensical stereotype even more dangerous considering that its being administered to naive young minds tantamount to shiny new blank slates with nary a smudge on them????

Apparently appearances matter more. That is why superman when bruised, which isnt often, he isnt shown healing rapidly, cuz thats wolverines domain apparently and then it would seem too cliched. Though reality dictates that what with his super high metabolism he should have equally rapid healing if not more. Oh and the time when Gambit was exempted from the earlier x men movies because his powers were thought to be too similar to Cyclops. Well they proved that wrong with X-Men Origins: Wolverine didn't they? ...oh well, before I start sounding like too much of a geek (tho some might say its too late for that already) ill sign off...bye.

                        Hands On - The Phallic Phascination

There is something about a protruding object that seems to catch the male fantasy.  Now, before you allow your minds to wander and take a leisurely dip in the gutter, I shall proceed to paint a clearer picture, with firm brushstrokes - something that i can only figuratively achieve seeing as the only subject I ever failed in school was drawing.  

    Take a gun for instance.  A gun in any form, airgun, toy pistol, prop item, cigarette lighter seems to attract the male attention.  They hold it in various poses, they take mock aim, they wave it around.  Hell, they even like to shove it around in their waistband and move about.  It helps them exude a sense of confidence and power, for some reason.  It could be argued here that it may be so because even a fake gun invokes the imagery of the real thing.  But this phenomenon is not just relegated to firearms.  Mock swords, daggers, knives nunchuks, anything works.  Even the sad geeks have their Star Trek phasers.  Star Wars fans ( they are not GEEKS!!!!) have their lightsabers - which for some is the paragon of symbolism in the Star Wars universe.  Even a remote control, even that small one attached to your keyring that electronically locks/unlocks your car appears irresistible to the males.  Maybe its the sense of control that subconsciously personifies, the power to change channels, to lock and unlock doors at the press of a button or whatever.  And while we are tossing out examples like confetti, lets not forget the guitar.  That for some males is the ultimate chick magnet ( in their defence, the guitar does seem to attract the female in droves, albeit of a somewhat dumber variety - but then people who take up playing guitar to attract women surely don't bother about their IQ or brainpower).  A few chords here and there and you have female swooning.  Its hard to sound disharmonious or cacophonous with a well tuned guitar, be as musically challenged as you may.

   Maybe what it all comes down to is men need something to do with their hands.  While the empty mind is the devil's playground, it's obvious males find empty hands equally unnerving.  Now that I think about it, I cant recall my hands ever being empty.  I'm either holding the handlebars of my scooter, or a TV remote, a book, fiddling with my ipod or tapping away on my keyboard to generate amateurish, corny crap like this piece right here ( its amazing how often u get stymied by simple spellings.  I typed PIECE three times before getting it right. Maybe it is true when they say that the brain just reads the first and last letters and processes the word as a whole.  But let us leave that.  I digress). If none of these, I'm either handling my mouse and keyboard or my joystick (oh come on, you dirty people get your minds out of the gutter.  I'm speaking literally here, not figuratively) and playing games on my trusty PC.  Oh games, the bone of contention between many a parent and son, between boyfriends and girlfriends.  Men are fascinated by games, controlling characters, even worlds at the press of a button.  And now Nintendo that venerable video game maker has given us the ultimate protruding device, the Wiimote.

  Oh now I just thought of another one.  A camera, especially the big powerful one with a protruding lens.  That is something that males like too. Capturing the moment for posterity with the press of a button.  Hence proved, every man craves power, not just ambitious businessmen or bad politicians.  Do I hear women rejoicing.  Well they shouldn't.  They crave power most of all.  And they use their hands to do achieve it too.  Whether it is folding them wistfully to melt a stone heart or just yanking the puppet strings figuratively tied around their fingers to achieve their petty manipulations.  Yay, I'm so happy i managed to end this one on a female-bashing note as well.  Hmm it appears I do have a sad and empty life.

OK, Everybody Ready?... Smile!!!!!





In the whole still camera vs the camcorder, i prefer the still camera. With a camcorder, you're too busy recording stuff. You see through the lens and often forget to take a real good look at the thing yourself. As for the video you shoot, life nowadays is too busy to browse through nostalgic videos anyway. Besides still photography is an art. With exhibitions and all. When was the last time you heard of a pulitzer for a camcorder recording.

Now, about this still photography business. Its supposed to capture real moments isnt it? Then why do people keep posing and smiling when it comes to photographs. Maybe they do it so they can have a new profile pic on all ten of the networking sites that they have joined, or may be they have pics to show off on their albums in the same networking sites. But whatever be the case, there is something grotesquely fake and repulsive about a group pose and smile for a photograph. Thats why I hate being photographed. And when they ask me to smile. Well, then its guaranteed the photos gonna be a stinker. If you really need me to fake smile then you gotta give me a few moments to daydream. Then I can imagine some situation and manage a mild smile without looking totally fake and inappropriate.

This is also the case with me when I take photographs. I usually handle the camera in a given situation. For two primary reasons: 1) Photography is something of an ameteur hobby of mine and 2) This way I make sure I dont become a photo casualty i.e. I dont get caught at the wrong end of the camera. Now when people decide and pose and say stuff like "wait, wait, wheres a comb?", "Is my shirt on ok?", "am I visible?" and then finally pose and put on a smile, I lose all the will to click. I prefer spontaneous real moments. Click away when people dont realise I'm doing it, with them being their natural selves.

People have no consideration for things like the perfect setting, capturing the mood etc. These are minor trivialites for them. They will intrude themselves and impose their will on the shot. They refuse to take directions. But at the end of it all, they will insist on checking the camera to see if they came out okay...as if the photo is being sent for the damn pulitzer. Go figure!!!


Well, this years coming to an end. I can look forward to more uselessness, still no earning, rejection from the good and decent MBA colleges, more recession, going to the trouble of making new friends etc. On the bright side, I get to leave Bhopal!! yay for me!!!! Have a HAPLESS NEW YEAR everyone!!!!!

Not Funny


You ever notice how if you come close to setting up a joke or are ready to degrade someone in a really funny and cool way, you find it hard to not do it? Even if evidence contrary to your case is presented or if your facts are misconstrued, you still refuse to let go. Case in point panning the poor music this year. They said that even Rehman's best work was a crappy ^&%^&%^ and that is where they quoted a movie. Two words for you losers...Slumdog Millionaire. But that is neither here nor there. Its the idea of selling a joke.

We've seen some of the worse mimics in the reality comedy shows. They mimic anyone and everyone. And sure it is a form of flattery. But being the one who is doing the flattery instead of being flattered is not that cool either. But to get back to the point, people do anything to put appear funny. They steal jokes and tell them to girls as if they were their own, they make fun of people they know nothing about. They will incorrectly rhyme penis with tennis to sell a dirty limerick but they will acheive their ends. Make fun of styles when you have no personality, make fun of a persona when you are an unkown entity. Or simply interpret badge and batch as the same word and make stupid wordplays (yeah, that happens a lot in my college).

Apparently being irreverent, distasteful and downright slanderous is the new cool. Everyone's doing it. But the fact is, they try so hard its painfully obvious

Peeping Toms/Tabithas



Indians have always been interested in the affairs of others. Mind you I'm not talking about the Myanamar and Tibet issues. When it comes to really helping our neighbours, we decide to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear towards them. Inspite of the fact that we ourselves are constantly on the recieving end of some aid or the other. But other than that, we love meddling in the affairs of others. We can never refrain ourselves from giving opinions and offering advices to others. It does not matter that we are afraid of even a rippling shallow pool of water, we will not cower when it comes to offer tips on extreme river rafting.

And I believe that all of this, somehow, is connected to our voyeuristic tendencies. There is a hidden pervert in all of us. Well not pervert actually. Since we cant all be perverts, we have a macabre, morbid fascination in the acts of those who are. And yes, all those who stand there naked (figuratively speaking) in all their glory, for the world to see are, in my book, Grade A perverts. We love to watch. And though our linen may be spick and span, we love watching people washing their dirtylaundry in public.

And this fact has been exploited. More and more clones keep popping up all over the place. The Schadenfraude element comes in play. The part of our brain that is exited at the misery of others comes into play. That in itself should tell us about ourselves as a generation and humanity. Its not the talent that is spinning money. We all know and realise the fact that the winner, let alone the contestants arent going to get squat out of it. They know it too. But for them its the thrill of being on a stage and holding everyones attention. And for us, its about seeing them in all their misery.

A generation of wasting fools who have entered a redundant cycle that appeals to all and benefits none. Attention grabbers and nosy pokers. Thats what we are.

A Pathetic/Apathetic Situation

Our generation gradually moves towards an apethic state of mind. As we grow number and number (ok, ok if all the wise cracking smart alecs have finished asking "WHICH NUMBER" ill move forward)or actually more and more numb if u will, there are fewer things that amaze us any more. Lets face it, sensationalism just isnt as sensational as it once was. Everything is breaking news, the varying shades of the scarf worn by the dog that belongs to a mediocre cricketer, who just happens to look good is worthy of generating debate and is worthy of at least 30 mins of solid prime time newsreel footage.

But there is a sad aspect to this matter. There are brutal, despicable acts, terrible calamities, ruthless atrocities occuring all over the world that dont get enough space because they dont generate enough (and here i gesture mock inverted commas with my fingers as well) "Human Interest". A high society murder or a high profile kidnapping is something that we can all relate to. That can be follwed up endlessly through months. And its not just the news. Every contest, every reality show overindulges in pregnant silences and sensational drum rolls. So much so that they need only shoot 5 minutes of footage and roll it for the entire 20 minutes by constant repetition and excruciatingly slow Slow Motion.

Our generations has grown unfeeling over time. As it is, we lack the ability to concentrate for more than a few seconds (this fact, demonstrated never more clearly than when we flick through numerous channels without hovering over a single one for more than 10 seconds). Add to that the loss of our ability to empathise with real suffering and the fact that we can shrug off the death of thousands of people when the responsible cause is "just a natural disaster".

This apathy also spills into our personal lives. This gives fuel to the already rampaging juggernaut inside us that drives us towards every increasing self centric tendencies. We are too full of ourselves to look beyond us. And again, yes again, for the umpteenth time and certainly not the last, ill condemn the damned youth brigade with its youngistaan concepts for feeding shit to bloat the egos of already prissy youths.

Then we move on to condemn everything and feel good about it. All the while, we ourselves are trying to get noticed by competing in no matter what talent showcasing against likeminded fools. Its not that we dont want to care. Now, even here people are more concerened with making a show of caring...dealing with the superficial formalities as it were. But to get back to the point, we do want to care. Its just that we have unwittingly shoved ourselves into a quagmire of self indulgence. Everyone is running about concerned only about survival..their survival, then goddamit why shouldn't we? Robots will be redundant in the future if we end up behaving like them ourselves. But what can we do. Oversensationalism compels us to either go mad with their constant implosion or shut our senses off from them.

The Great Escape


Okay, let me start off by warning you that my following few blogs will all have the same recurring themes about panning reality shows and condemning the youth of today. I'm damned busy, frustrated and worried at the moment (no, no..not at the state of our youth...they can all go boil their heads for all i care)and as such my thoughts are quite disjointed. So what else is new say my regular readers. You never made much sense anyway they scream. And I care not as i lazily flick a speck of dust from my impeccable mechlin cuffs...its another matter that I'm wearing a half sleeved T-shirt with a stoned out skull bearing the legend Chill Out or Die and have never even set eyes on mechlin cuffs. But to get back to the what i was saying unable to connect them and bind them into one or two blogs i will examine different aspects of the same phenomenon over the next few blogs. Please bear with me as i ramble along.

We have entered an age of ruthless consumerism and mindless escapism. We dont care how it affects others, what is the longterm aftermath or anything else. Going with the mindless Youthcentric trend, we are living for the moment. ADD afflicted apathetic zombies flicking through channels with a bored expression desperately searching for whatever can hold their interest for a few minutes. Too much? Well, don't blame me. I'm not feeling too charitable. Like babies they are. Shutting their eyes from the world, they think they are invisible to all (here I'm not gonna give the ostrich burying its head in the sand analogy. Its a bloody myth. They do no such bloody thing.). The think tanks at the entertainment channels know that people will go to any extent in search for some moments of escapist pleasure. And we are feeding off ourselves in the proccess.

There is a spate of reality shows where people come to demonstrate what they think is talent. What we do see is artificial emotions which are better served in any weekly movie release and mindless histronics. What happens when they win? Who cares. Its the even more senseless journey that takes them to a senseless finale that captivates us. Love hunts, the search for the true wandering spirit (Roadhoggies/Roadies) or below all, the incessant singing &/or dancing shows that ultimately lead the participants to nowhere are in full vogue. And we love it. We quite knowingly mislead ourselves into believeing that whats out there is real. Real human emotions, real joy, real frustration and the true triumph of human spirit. Pah...Gimme a break.

As real life gets tougher and more tedious, the baby syndrome gets yet more pronounced and people rush to anything that will give them brief respite from the reality that they have to face every single damned day of their miserable lives (okay, maybe not everyone has it as tough as I do, but things have taken a turn for the worse you'll agree) Unfotunately, what they escape into is what i have just described and will continue to describe over a period of time for the next few blogs.

Inanimate Animosity


Why choose things over people? Well, several reasons actually. Books, songs, movies reflect moods of several people. So at least its an interaction with people. Indirectly. And they do not have the unwanted element of unpredictability. That is not to say im afraid of surprises. Its not that easy to surprise me. I do have some experience at psychoanalysis and can gauge moods and patterns. But to do that when 90% of the people are useless and boring is
just a criminal waste of time and energy.

Besides, things dont lash out for no reason whatsoever, they dont question your preference of other things, things aren't vindictive, and most importantly things dont gather a gaggle of giggling girls, dithering like idiots, smirking behind your back (yep, the last one is targeted specifically at the lesser quotients of the human equation). When you are constantly surrounded with people, you need to filter out the bullshit out of the conversation. You need to
tolerate whats likeable and whats not. With books, movies et al, you can just take your pick and skip the rest.
For an intensely private person like myself, being constantly surrounded by people takes its toll very soon. The sight of a contended person sitting alone in a corner irks them. How dare he not crave our company, how dare he sit self satisfied like a zen monk without the urge to smatter himself all over us.

Because they can never be at peace alone, they wont let you be either. They come over and snatch the book you are reading (Which novel is this? is it related to the course? And yes, always a novel, even if the cover featured mathematical configurations and formulas, it will to their eyes, always remain a novel.). Or they peel of the earphones off your ears (this is one of the most irritating things i can think of, and is more than enough to send me into a murderous rage).

But it can be gauged from this that even they are smart enough to consider these objects as their rivals as far as my attentions are concerned. So my philosophy is, you dont need 100 friends. Even a few, those that can be counted on the fingers of one hand, will do, so long as they be staunch and true (no, thats not my pathetic attempt at poetry. It just happens to rhyme). A handful of friends, a laptop, an ipod, an internet connection and you have everything you could possibly need right there.

Under Pressure

What I'd really like is to live a nice free life. Earn just enough to sustain myself, have a easy flexible job. Head back to my hole, order some pizza, turn on the music, play video games or read cheap thrillers or comic books. But no. Honour, family, prestige. You have to take these into consideration. You must earn more than those in your circle. You must study and become as qualified as the rest.

You have family pressure, peer pressure to think about. All these attachments and relations bog you down. No wonder the Jedi avoided all attachments including family. Imagine waving around your lightsaber in a fight with you mom nagging you..Obi Wan you'd better be a better swordsman than Master Windu by the time you are his age. You are being trained to compete. Now, even without nagging, you have this competitive spirit. And while this is not necessarily a bad thing, for all those who just want to sit back and enjoy life, this can pose a problem.

There is that school of thought that life isnt meant to be frittered away and we must work hard and take it seriously. But then, doesnt that mean that life is not a gift, but some grave burden that must be borne? Opinions, conformities and traditions hamper then happpiness and satisfaction of man. I mean , if man doesnt know what he wants, how can he be happy in the first place.

Well, of course i cant help having dark thoughts can I now? I mean, 23 yrs old and no respite or success in sight. Happy Birthday to me....Yay

Heavy Duty Bullshit

Frivolous people have one very important thing in common. They wait until there is a group or gathering of people to broach the real heavy duty topics. They want people to think they are the broody and ponderous type. I have a philosophy which comes true especially when it comes to heavy and private thoughts. What you think is what you think. Once you think out
loud in a huge gathering it isnt technically a thought anymore and ergo you cannot be the brooding hunky thinker a la the masterpiece by michaelangelo that you imagine yourself to be.

Thoughts about where life is headed, what kind of love you seek, what you expect from life, your innermost personality traits arent meant to be discussed around a canteen table in a drab afternoon, or like in the case I talk about, an interns table on a slow, lazy day.

Then they point fingers at you and then ask you. What about you, what do u think/what do you expect from life/what is you ambition/what kind of girl do u seek/how many girlfriends have you had/what is your definition of love? Well.. I mean to ask, what about me? If I indeed have answers to these questions, its none of your business. I hate to walk into one of
these conversations. And thanks to the air of frivolity that I carry around, I get targeted and made a spectacle of.

Everyone has a well formed opinion. Kaavish will do this, Kaavish does this, He's way to immature, He just likes junk food, he just likes his damn books (well, why shouldnt I? They are among the most stimulating company I can find).

I feel like pointing out their arrogance to them. Their stupid meaningless air of meaningfullness. The aura of solemnity that they pretend to project is nothing but a sham, and I'd love to expose it for what it is. But as I approach, I hear mediocre, slow, loud, cacophonous hindi film music blasting from their cellphones and i walk away into a corner, take out a
book, plug in my earphones and turn up my Ipod full blast. There I am, blissfully seated with two of my best friends, my book and my Ipod.