A Fine Yarn

Believe

2011-02-27T21:32:00.000-08:00

Today I saw this ad and I broke down a little. Didn't see the ending coming really.

It's been a lifelong dream to sing the national anthem on that stage. Because if we do qualify in my lifetime, I don't care if I am old and deaf and blind and can't move. I will somehow drag myself there and I will stand up and sing and revel in the moment. So this ad, corny and outlandish as it may be, is an encapsulation of that dream.

So are we capable? Hell, yes. We are the second most populous nation on Earth, surely we can muster up a football team worthy enough to go. But are we willing? Therein lies the tragedy. We don't really care, at least the ones who are in charge of the sport's future don't really care about it beyond their personal interests. So the infrastructure will remain woefully sub par and the talent will have to forsake the sport for more lucrative means of making a living. But the day it changes, we will make it, that much I am confident of. We made it to the Asian Cup and the players gave their all. No losing team's fans have have so proud of three and four goal thrashings as we were in those three matches. One day it will happen.

Its SF man

2010-11-12T10:48:00.000-08:00

Today Sir Loon asked me multiple times whether the bottle(s) in my hands was what he thought it was. Wtf man, what did you think it would have been? I'm highly offended. Really I am. Its SF man

25 Things Which Defined FIFA World Cup 2010: Part IV (10-6)

2010-08-10T07:35:00.000-07:00

10. It's a Team Game
World Cups have typically been defined by outstanding individual contributions which the dragged otherwise functional teams to the top - think Maradona in '86, Cruyff in '74, Romario and Baggio in '94 among others. The reasons for this are straightforward, national teams never really get the preparation time needed to drill strategies and formations in the team so that the players can do it even in their sleep, so the most effective teams have been those which maximised individual talent. This is why it is so unusual that this World Cup was dotted by teams who preferred a functional approach where all the players had to contribute instead of relying on a maverick talent to shine. Of the four teams which made the semifinals, only Uruguay could claim to have made it due to the exploits of their two strikers. And it was won by a team which has come to epitomise team football among other things. It's also striking that the teams which were depending simply on their best player to perform faltered badly - Argentina, Portugal and England. Perhaps it is a reflection on the modern game where the physical exertions are so strenuous that no one person can really drag a team on his own anymore. It also coincided with the obvious emphasis on defensive football which of course, needs the team to be working as a unit to be successful.

9. 4-2-3-1
Formations are always but mere tools and cannot be a sole indication of what the team's philosophy is, a defensive 4-3-3 is as much possible as an attacking 5-4-1. Nevertheless, it was instructive to see the majority of the teams adopting the 4-2-3-1 formation in this World Cup. The sudden upsurge in popularity is quite stark and it surely signals the death of the default formation for a couple of decades, the 4-4-2. The reasons behind this are many and, for different teams, varied. One clear reason is that the quality of defenders are not what they used to be, players like John Terry, Pique and Walter Samuel are held to be the standard bearers of centre-backs of this era but, with all due respect, they cannot hold a candle to the Beckenbauers and Maldinis of the past. This seems to have made managers realise the value of screening the defense with two midfielders, Holland made it to the final on the strength of the van Bommel and de Jong partnership in midfield. Another reason is, following the success of Barcelona and Spain, a renewed faith in possession football, for which the team must win the midfield, typically just by sheer numbers. Spain, of course, showed the effectiveness of this. A third reason, as predicted here by the brilliant Jonathan Wilson, is that this formation negates the opposition full backs. This is an evolutionary response to the fact that marauding full backs have become increasingly important in the last decade or so. The 4-2-3-1 seems to be a stable formation which can be moulded to suit both defensive and attacking tendencies and seems to be a good candidate to take over as the default formation in the years to come. If it does, this World Cup will be remembered to have popularised it.

8. Clockwork Oranje
The Netherlands is arguably the best nation never to have won the World Cup. The team of '74 laid down the standard of attacking football by which all future club and national teams have been measured with. They have frequently thrilled in the tournament, most notably '74 and '98, only to fall short due to their famed tendency to suddenly collapse. Holland has always been the quintessential momentum team, capable of beating any team when they are in the groove, but shine the headlights in their eyes and they stop and stare at it in puzzlement, before getting run over. It's this poignant brittleness which has endeared them to many a heart, and most people would begrudge them lifting the trophy at some point of time. But not in the 2010 edition. Holland's march to the final symbolised to many all that was wrong with this tournament. The coach, realising that the country had failed many times over because of a lack of steel set about fixing it by making the defensive midfield partnership of Mark van Bommel and Nigel de Jong the lynchpin of the team. But in doing so, much of the flair was sacrificed. Arjen Robben was the only player given true creative license and even Wesley Sneijder's role was somewhat restricted than what he is used to, something which a creditable return of five goals (albeit most of them fortuitous) could not compensate for spectator value. This new look Holland playing the role of the destroyer angered many, including Cruyff, who disassociated himself with the team. Nevertheless, they reached their third final and if they had won it, all would be forgiven. But that's the problem with teams which start playing contradictory to their philosophies, they must get results to justify it. Holland took their destroyer role against Spain in the final to another level, their hacking and mauling was quite shameful and disturbing to watch at times, but they couldn't stop the Spain juggernaut. Thus they remain international football's nearly men, but this time, few were complaining.

Total Football: Fatality!

7. A Billion Angry Bees
A World Cup in an unusual venue is a chance to experience football in a new atmosphere, even for someone watching it from television. South Africa did a fine job of hosting the World Cup and the uniqueness of the African experience was there for all to see. Unfortunately, the one African experience which will be forever and most excruciatingly associated with this World Cup was the drone of the vuvuzelas. Purported to be a traditional African noise-making ritual when it's in just a plastic, monotonous horn invented by someone enterprising who probably back-dated it into the distant past to give his invention antiquity value, the headache inducing whine which reverberated around the stadiums was probably more disliked than Joey Barton. The only people who wanted to have anything to do with it were the ones who owned the damn thing, which was unfortunately pretty much everyone there (If you can't beat them, join them I suppose). For us watching on television, we could not comprehend how the sound of the billion bees would be found exhilarating by anyone. These instruments are usually a vehicle to show the mood of the fans, but the monotonous nature of the vuvuzelas pretty much makes it impossible to know why the hell exactly is he blowing it.

Much like the acting skills of Keanu Reeves

6. El Guaje is All Grown Up
The title of best striker in the world is arguable to say the least, several contenders vie ferociously for the spot. However, one striker whose skills have, although long recognised. have never been given the top billing it That man is David Villa. He happens to be one of the few pure technically skilled sharpshooters around, whose currency is goals. His ten seasons in Spanish top flight football have yielded at least 15 goals a season in the league, a truly remarkable statistic which not even serial goalscorers like Raul and Inzaghi could boast of at similar stages of their careers. And yet he is much more than a simple poacher, his dribbling skills and passing ability have racked up a number of assists as well. And he has done all this in teams like Sporting Gijon, Real Zaragoza and post Benitez era Valencia, teams which could hardly be called the cream of Europe. He's just one goal away from Raul's Spain record despite having played about 40 times. All this and he has never been truly given his due. This World Cup has changed that perception, as such tournaments tend to do. Villa was the one marksman who provided the edge to Spain's (sometime over elaborate) passing. His five goals were all hugely important, several of them, like his first weaving goal against Honduras and the strike against Chile were absolute class. With Torres having a shocker of the tournament, the burden of finishing the moves fell on his shoulders and he responded. He's just one goal away from Raul's Spain record despite having played about 40 times. He is as deserving of the World Cup win and the plaudits as anyone has been.

25 Things Which Defined FIFA World Cup 2010: Part III (15-11)

2010-07-29T10:59:00.002-07:00

15. The Twist of the Knife: Slovakia 3-2 Italy
It's a funny thing to say about the then World Champions, but the writing had been on the wall for Italy for quite some time. A below par performance in Euro 2008 had given the indication that this team had had its last hurrah in 2006 and a revamp was needed. However, Lippi's stubborn persistence in sticking to bulk of the squad which won the Cup but was now over the hill had made even ardent supporters pessimistic of their country's chances. But no one would have thought that Italy would end up bottom of a group which was arguably one any top team would have had no trouble walking through. Insipid draws against Paraguay and New Zealand later, it was hoped that Italy would at least make the knockout stage by beating unheralded Slovakia. Not so, Slovakia gave a performance of their lifetime which was only helped by Italy's laughably awful defense. The minnows were compact and alert on pouncing any chances and bossed the midfield completely and a lead of 2-0 was well deserved. The introduction of Pirlo brought some semblance of structure into the team and they pulled one back with a classy move. However, as if to prove that this return to form was a blip, they again conceded through a through ball from a throw in (yes, you read that right), and that goal encapsulated all that had been wrong with Italy. A sublime chipped goal from outside the box by Fabio Quagliarella notwithstanding, Slovakia pulled off a famous and deserved upset and confirmed one of the most humiliating exit by a holder.

14. The Hand of Suarez
Every story needs a villain, and the moustache twirling, shifty eyed nemesis of the World Cup 2010 became the Uruguayan star striker Luis Suarez when he saved a certain goal right at the death of extra time by whacking the shot brilliantly off the line, with his hand. It's not like he escaped scrutiny, the referee saw it, awarded the penalty and gave him his marching orders. So far so good. But when Asamoah Gyan heartbreakingly missed the penalty, Luis Suarez became the most hated figure in the tournament. Rationale would say that any player in that position would have done the same, also that he had been duly punished by the law. It is also arguable that it was a noble action in that he deliberately took the risk of missing a chance to appear in a World Cup semifinal in favour of keeping his team alive. But emotions aren't governed by rationale and Suarez's villainous swipe became the most hated act in the Cup (except in the quaint country north of the English Channel which is still crying over Lampard's disallowed goal). Of course, his instinctively wild celebrations at the penalty miss and his later boastful comments on it being the new 'Hand of God' didn't help much.

Contender for save of the World Cup

13. Sacreblew It
The France team of '98-'00 was a legendary outfit. Top of the world at the time, it contained some of the best players in recent times and deservedly swept through everything in their wake. Since then, however, the team has been on a decline, a surprise appearance in the final in the last World Cup notwithstanding. The French team of 2010 finally laid to rest the era of the French. Hell it didn't stop there. It dug up the grave, defecated in the coffin and lit the whole thing in flames. France wasn't going down in a mere whimper, it had to make it a circus event. The main reason was their incompetent buffoon of a coach Raymond Domenech, who in six years never really earned the respect of the payers. So much so that when Nicholas Anelka abused him in the tournament and was deservedly sent home for his troubles, the entire team revolted and refused to train. As strong as their reasons may have been, this was a simply inexusable act, you do not shame the badge you are wearing like this. The whole situation quickly descended into a farce and France did not make it past the group stage for the third time in the last five major tournaments. Their campaign left a very ugly taste in everyone's mouths and all the players' careers will be forever tarnished from this. This was no way for an era to wind up.

12. Tears and a Kiss
There are some players who, no matter how recognised they are, you always feel deserve more than what they have achieved so far. Iker Casillas is on his way to becoming one of the all time goalkeeping legends, and has been for some time. He is fiercely adored by the Real Madrid, who have shown great loyalty and love for him even through the toughest times. And he has had tough times, pretty much every season of his career actually. Madrid is as known for its emphasis on attacking football as it is for not giving a flying one when it comes to its defense. In this respect Casillas' heroics in goal have earned them at least 10-12 points a season and no one in a Madrid jersey has deserved the titles they have won in recent times more. Yet there was always the feeling that he is destined for more, maybe the World Cup? This Spain team has been lauded for many things, but their mean defense is always overlooked. And the last line of this defense is the best goalkeeper in the world, and their captain. In fact, this writer believes that Spain won the World Cup when San Iker saved the penalty against Paraguay, because when Casillas is on his game, there is no stopping them. Every World Cup winning team has at least one image which defines it, Iker Casillas provided two. First, when keeper broke down when the winner was scored in the final even while the match was going on, as the magnanimity of what they were achieved, and the second was when he kissed his girlfriend on screen during the post match interview (said girlfriend whose presence was feared by Marca would distract him from playing well. Oh Marca). Two such outpourings from emotion from their normally stoic keeper is emblematic of the relief of shedding burden of under-performance the country has endured all these years. They will be a constant reminder of what a huge achievement this was.

Sealed with a kiss

11. The Shining Black Stars of Africa
Much was expected of the countries representing the African continent in their home World Cup and the continent came wonderfully together in supporting each other. But the teams themselves failed to shine. Nigeria were the worst team in the tournament, Cameroon and Algeria were abject, Ivory Coast had the misfortune of being stuck in the Group of Death and South Africa played their hearts out but the knockout stage was ultimately a step too far. So it was left to Ghana to carry on the torch and the burden of the entire continent when they replicated their 2006 feat of being the only African nation to make it through (without their talisman Michael Essien no less). Ghana was probably the revelation of the tournament. A team which played with its heart on its sleeve and an unmistakable sense of joy. Yes, they were naive and maybe a bit too sang froid for their own good, but they never stopped running and they never stopped trying. USA are a team known for producing athletes, yet Ghana outran and outlasted them, thus reaching their first ever quarterfinal. Their next match against Uruguay was probably the match of the World Cup, an entertaining end-to-end affair which went into extra time and the heartbreaking manner of their exit (see No 14) made them them the tragic heroes of this World Cup. After their 2006 exploits, FIFA.com had commented that this Ghana side is surely one in the ascendancy. FIFA gets many things wrong but in this case, Ghana has since made it the semifinal and final in the two African Nations Cup and now the World Cup quarterfinal. It is indeed not a freak result, the Black Stars have been delivering for a while now, the rest of Africa just needs to take its lead.

25 Things Which Defined FIFA World Cup 2010: Part II (20-16)

2010-07-21T09:46:00.000-07:00

20. The Return of the No 10?
A curious side effect of the sudden uniform preference for the 4-2-3-1 was the crucial role of a central attacking midfielder, the classic No 10 or, as they call it in Italy, the trequartista in dictating the attack. It is no secret that for various reasons the No 10 has been dying a slow death. Clubs have discarded it for a while now as the recent trend of have inside out wingers exploiting the space which he would normally occupy leaving the CAM superfluous( there are some notable exceptions though, current Champions League winners Internazionale come to mind). This trend was curiously not replicated in the World Cup as the performance of several teams hinged on how successful their trequartista was. Germany had Mesut Özil, Brazil had Kaka, Holland had Wesley Sneijder, Argentina had Lionel Messi, even Spain played Xavi in an uncharacteristically (and not very effective) advanced role. All of them had the traditional No 10 role of exploiting the confusion between defense and midfield and putting the telling ball in. It will be interesting to see if this catches on in club football as it has been detrimental for several players in the No 10 mould to have been shoehorned into the playing 11 as a winger cutting in or a second striker, something which they are not necessarily suited to, Sneijder's contrasting fortunes in Real Madrid and Inter being a good example.

19. The First Upset - Spain 0-1 Switzerland
The first round of group matches had been such a slumbering drag that everyone was just crying out for something, anything to jolt the Cup into life. It took the very last of the matches of the round between Spain and Switzerland to do so, where Spain after battering, machinegunning and target bombing the Swiss goalmouth inexplicably conceded and never got their grip back in the match. As a World Cup upset this ranks right up there with the best, Spain were arguably the strongest and most gifted team around and they proved it either side of the match, but during it the legendary Ottmar Hitzfeld's stifling tactics stymied them. Although Spain recovered marvelously from the defeat, it set the tone of the World Cup where the favourites kept underperforming and several less heralded teams successfully punched above their weight. In a way, it kick started the World Cup as the lesser teams became more bold and actually looked to drive home the advantage which made the rest of the group stage a bit more interesting. It all contributed to a rather unusual knockout stage lineup.

18. 1966 Revisited
One of the greatest controversies of the World Cup is the 'Ghost goal' in the 1966 final where Geoff Hurst's shot in extra time bounced down the crossbar, hit the ground and jumped out. The goal was given although it was never clear whether it had crossed the line and England won its one and only Cup based on which they delude themselves to be a footballing superpower to this day. The Germans have been crying hoarse ever since to anyone who cares to listen and, to be fair, they may have a point, recent technology indicates the goal should not have stood. What goes around comes around and a major talking point of this World Cup arose when England, 2-1 down against Germany, saw a Lampard shot identically cannon down the crossbar, drop a good foot behind the line and jump out. Everyone in the world saw it cross the line, except the referee and his assistant. Germany would go on to beat England handsomely, and for once the English had the sense not to use the injustice of it as a crutch and accepted that they deserved to lose anyway. Nevertheless, it single handedly renewed the debate on using goalline technology with everyone throwing in their two cents/pennies/paise and the egg on the faces of the FIFA dinosaurs getting poached from the heat of their increasing shame. Well, one would like to believe that but FIFA has been incredibly thick skinned for a long time. At any event, one thing is for certain, Frank Lampard just cannot score in the World Cup, even when he does.

"Come on Ref, even Wenger saw it!"

17. South Africa Shows Us How To Do It
There may have been many things about this World Cup which did not live up to expectations, but the organisation certainly wasn't one of them. Before every tournament there are always noises that the host nation will botch the job. These noises were uncharitably loud for months this time around, probably because it was the first event of this magnitude being hosted in the continent interspersed with a degree of European snobbishness as well. They need not have worried, South Africa had shown in recent years by hosting the cricket and rugby World Cups that they can do the job and they kept their promise. The stadiums were architectural wonders and by all accounts wonderfully crafted, every seat having an unimpeded view of the pitch. There were few complaints on how the influx of people was handled. There were no muggings, no killings, no cannibalism and none of whatever other horrors which had been conjured up by the naysayers who clearly had a 200 year old view of the continent. The World Cup provided a
lovely advertisement of the African people and they took the opportunity in both hands. It may likely go down as one of the best organised World Cups ever.

16. The Greatest Entertainer, Even On The Bench
Think of the World Cup and you think of Diego Maradona. He is the one person unequivocally associated with the highs and lows of the competition. And he was back for one more hurrah at the grand stage, but on the other side of the line as Argentina's manager. In a Cup where few players really shined, it was up to him to steal the spotlight and do something memorable with it. Which he did, from having the winning team in a training match pelt footballs at the losing team in a bizarre exercise of building team spirit to putting in free kick after free kick in the top corner to show that the beach ball Jabulani can be tamed. New chapters were added to the childish tantrum throwings between Maradona and Pele. He saved his best for the bench though in his dapper suit in which he looked as uncomfortable as a cat in a dog pound, as he became one of the players, sharing the joy in every goal and cursing openly for every miss. Every time the ball would come near the bench, he would go over and touch that, the desire to put on a jersey and walk into the pitch was palpable. Maradona's antics went some way in lighting up the tournament. Whether you like him or hate him, hell, you can never ever ignore him.

Maradona shows Higuain that to play football you must use the feet

25 Things Which Defined FIFA World Cup 2010: Part I (25-21)

2010-07-18T07:06:00.000-07:00

The 19th football World Cup ended a week ago and now that the proverbial dust is settling down, it seems a good time to take stock of what was an underwhelming tournament but nevertheless one which had several gripping moments, for better or for worse. This is the first in a series of articles about the 25 things for which this World Cup will be remembered.

25. A Worthy Curtain Raiser and the Diski Dance
It seems a long time ago, but it should not be forgotten that in a World Cup saddled with several insipid matches, the first one was an absolute cracker. South Africa 1 -1 Mexico was a see-sawing, gripping game and although it could be argued that Mexico shaded it in terms of performance, no one could begrudge the home team taking something out of it. The opener was an excellent passing move topped off by a wonderful strike from Siphiwe Tshabalala, easily one of the goals of the tournament. The Diski dance celebration became a rage across the continent and will probably become one of the most enduring World Cup goal celebration moments. Mexico's equaliser, although heartbreaking for the majority in the stadium, was fully deserved and a draw was a fair if unsatisfying result. The match left a marker which rest of the tournament could not leave up to.

Tshabalala - A commentator's dream name to scream out

24. USA - No Flash in the Pan
For a country with a considerable sporting culture, the USA has always been a minor player in the international arena at the best of times when it comes to football. However, the signs that it is on the rise have been seen in recent years. After a very commendable performance in last year's Confederations Cup where they were leading 2-0 against Brazil in the final before losing, they have followed it up with a solid showing in the World Cup. A spirited draw against a lacklustre England was followed by an amazing comeback from two goals down against Slovenia to draw the match, a wrongly disallowed goal being the only thing preventing them from winning it. They needed a win in the next match, and Landon Donovan's last minute winner propelled them into the next round as group toppers. The significance of the goal cannot be understated if it does provide the catalyst for the country to continue this progress. A loss in an entertaining match against another tournament find - Ghana - cut short their World Cup adventure but this team has the steel and spirit to spark a revolution in terms of how the game is viewed in the country. In the years to come we may well recognise this World Cup as the tournament where the USA woke out of its slumber.

23. The Stars Fizzle Out
A World Cup is the ultimate stage for any player and the world's best are always expected to shine in it. The reputations of so many players have been defined by their World Cup performances. This World Cup will be known as the one where they simply didn't show up. Some of them were abject failures - Ribery, Rooney; some sparkled in patches but were overall disappointing - Kaka, Ronaldo; some were hampered by injury and fitness issues - Drogba, Torres, and some gave their level best but ultimately could not carry their teams on their own - Messi. It is interesting to note that the one big team which uncharacteristically discarded all individual license and reliance on one player - Brazil - disappointed as well. The teams which did well were the ones who kept a team discipline while allowing for enough creative spirit along the way. There were other players who showed that they could replace these stars and some of them did so marvelously, but so many of the pre-tournament favourites tanking at once merely contributed to the underwhelming tournament.

22. Using Your Head
I will admit to being slightly biased here as I love to see good headed goals, but it cannot be denied that we were treated to several great headers in the World Cup. That is not to say that most of the time the Jabulani did not fly off the the head into orbit but when they got it right, it was a treat. There was Gabriel Henize's fine diving header against Nigeria, Klose's heroic rush in against Australia, Juan's thumping effort against Chile and Tim Cahill's typically wonderful 'header of the tournament' goal against Serbia. Of course, the cherry on top was the now iconic "un-Spanish" goal by Puyol against Germany which sent Spain to their first ever final. Many have commented on the irony that the current flagbearers of 'beautiful football' had to resort to a set-piece routine to finally settle matters but this writer says that a good header is just as beautiful a way to score a goal as anything. So there.

Tarzan goes flying

21. Uruguay - The Surprise Return of a Former Superpower
You have been a brave man if you had bet that out of the unprecedented situation of all five South American teams making it to the knockout stage, the only one which will make it to the semifinal would be Uruguay. They may be two-time former champions but Uruguay's star has long lost its dazzle. Therefore, to see them rubbing shoulders with the world's best again till the end made a welcome and refreshing sight, even though the unsavoury nature of their quarterfinal victory made them the tournament villains in the process. They were powered by the out of the world performances of Diego Forlan who was ably assisted by a solid spine of Diego Lugano, Diego Perez and strike partner Luis Suarez. Yes they had a favourable draw, but let's not take the sheen out of a commendable and deserved run from a team which battled injuries and suspensions throughout and played some fine football along the way. Their match against Germany was probably the best of the tournament. That the age of the team most likely means that this performance will not be repeated in the near future makes their efforts all the more poignant.

Very Comfortably Numb

2010-07-12T13:20:00.000-07:00

It took a long time to hit me. I had an outsider's shot at best in the beginning, the interview went well but they didn't really ask me any really tough questions. But at the end of the end, I got the job, and it is the ideal job I could have reasonably expected. Hell it is above expectations, I am a 3 point someone after all.

When did it start sinking in? Not immediately, that is for sure. I was experiencing a surreal perspective where I was looking from outside as a spectator when I first heard it. My mother broke down when she first heard it, and a part of me wondered why she would do that. Even when I shakily signed the contract, it was mostly because of nerves on seeing the big numbers swimming in front of me.

I suppose it first started hitting me in the pub afterward. The more drunk I got, the more the import of what I had just achieved started to sink. If I had to pick a moment, it finally hit me when Comfortably Numb, one of my all time favourites, started to play on the TV. For any graduate of Don Bosco 2006, the song has a special significance. Furthermore, it is the song which really shifted me to rock, a transition I have never had a need to regret. It is a song which has been a constant companion since I first heard it, it is fitting that it capped the declaration of the beginning of the next chapter of my life. The more things change, the more they remain the same. And yet, the only constant is change, one can only hope it is to one's liking. May this next step be as fruitful as I hope it will be.

Enough senti, up next, my top 25 things which defined this World Cup. Watch this space.

And. Here. We... Go

2010-06-10T13:41:00.000-07:00

It's been just four years. It's been too long.

The World Cup is starting in a few hours. It is about the only event for which 'the world will stand still' is not just a cliche. It is the first and most vigorously marked day on every football fan's calendar. It creates legends and destroys myths. It is the ultimate test of greatness for any great player, you have not made it until you have performed admirably in your quest for this elegant and coveted trophy. It is contested by teams which are not together for more than a few weeks a year and yet manage to show a solidarity and enjoy uncontestable support unseen in any club. It is the one title which any player says he wants more than anything else, and for once he is not being diplomatic. It is, quite simply, the greatest show on Earth.

So sit back, cross your legs and let the television remote grow cobwebs for the next month. The show is just starting, sunshine.

Homesickness

2010-06-09T14:23:00.000-07:00

Very rarely have I felt this emotion even though living away from home is a part of life I had to accept long ago. Then again, almost a year without going home would make even me fidgety to back to Cal, I'm still just a college kid after all. It's been too long since I saw family, friends and the city. It's time I did.

EDIT: Didn't realise this was the 50th post. Wouldn't have wasted it on something emo if I did. Oh well...

The Tractor Goes On And On

2010-05-28T21:03:00.000-07:00

About a year back I wrote a small tribute on the greatest defender and one club player in the modern era - Paolo Maldini. His undeniable skill was only accentuated by his longevity, which saw him play at the top level well beyond the age of 40, picking up Champions Leagues like loose change till his late 30s.

Maldini is not alone in giving top class service to their chosen clubs till an age when their contemporaries have switched the ball for other pursuits long ago, although he might be the most successful. Another legend who has arguably achieved as much of a legendary status and will join him when he hangs up his boots shares the same San Siro home stadium, but for the other side. It is of course, FC Internazionale's heartbeat and soul - Javier Zanetti.

Il Trattore

Javier Zanetti, moved to Inter from Banfield at the age of 22, and fifteen years later is still the first name on the teamsheet. By trade a right back, he has unfailingly filled in a variety of positions in defence and midfield for both club and country over the course of his career. Such is his strong association with the team he is the one player any Inter fan can currently definitively identify with among a team bereft of club products or Italians, despite being neither himself. And he shows no signs of stopping.

By trade a right back, he has unfailingly filled in a variety of positions in defence and midfield for both club and country over the course of his career. Not just filling in, he has proven to be a vital cog in the wheel in each of those roles. This is typified by the recent Champions League final which brought the title to Inter after forty five years, he played in centre midfield and stopped Bayern's biggest strength - their midfield - from bossing it, and then left back when the clock was winding down, to keep Arjen Robben quiet. Versatility is sometimes an overrated trait, it is usually attributed to players who are not exceptional in any position but are useful in a variety of positions and can be used to fill in the gaps as a squad player. True versatility is someone who can excel in any position and Javier Zanetti belongs to this rare category. He is 37 now and he runs as much as his younger colleagues and plays every match. Like Maldini, his is not a sentimental selection, Inter still won't know what to do without him.

Inter just won the Champions League, and while it is a team I generally don't care much for, the one satisfaction I got out of it is that Zanetti finally got to hold up the famous trophy. It was the least a legend of his talents and service to the game deserved and no one can really begrudge him having a Champions League winning medal. It is a huge travesty that we won't see him in the World Cup after Maradona picked a range of jokers over him in one of his more inexplicable selections (and he has had a fair few). However, he shows no signs of stopping anytime soon, and who is to say that we won't get to see him four years from now in the biggest stage of them all in Brazil.

The Greatest Title Race Ever?

2010-05-15T10:33:00.000-07:00

The most respected achievements are always the ones which are the hardest won. A league title won by a double digit points difference merely emphasises the team's superiority over the rest of the pack but it can never compare to the romanticism and drama of a title race which goes down to the last day. After all, the worth of a team is defined by its rivals and its most satisfying when your rival is almost as good as you, almost.

Never has this been more true than the FC Barcelona - Real Madrid rivalry in Spain and never has this epic rivalry been exhibited more brilliantly than the ongoing 2009/2010 season.

It has been an unwritten law of nature that both teams undergo cycles of fortune which perfectly complement each other. When Barca is riding high, Madrid is struggling to even ride the easy waves, and when Madrid is the closest to the finish line, Barca is stumbling and vainly trying to catch its breath in a faint hope of overtaking its bitter enemy. Even when the title race between the two is close (and it has been several times), there is always the feeling that one of the two deserves it way more than the other one, and it invariably wins it.

This season has broken this law. With the last game of the season to be played in less than 24 hours, Barca hold the slenderest of one point advantages over Madrid. However, this is not astonishing, we have seen this scenario so many times. The astonishing part is the points tally of the respective teams - Barca has 96, Madrid has 95. The previous record tally in La Liga was 92, in a 22 team league. Both teams swept aside this record in a greedy nonchalance while racking up win after win after win. In fact, you'll be hard pressed to find such ridiculous tallies in the archives of all the major leagues.

What is the reason behind such a points glut? Is it, as some have suggested, simply that Barca and Madrid have pulled away from the rest of the pack so much that the other teams will be inevitably defeated and the only two fixtures which will realistically decide the title are the el clasicos? There may be a modicum of truth in that, in that the big two's spending power is infinitely more than the rest and the gap is ever increasing. But when one observes the teams, Barca is essentially unchanged from last year's historic treble winning squad, in fact the one major change - the Eto'o/Ibrahimovic swap has arguably done more harm than good. Madrid's team is vastly improved from last year, but the undiluted individual brilliance in the squad tempered with a characteristic dysfunctional play has only served to bring it up to Barca's level, as the points tally shows.

Nor have the other teams suddenly become worse. Valencia managed to keep its stars against all odds and have done splendidly to finish third after two seasons outside the top four, with breakthrough seasons from the likes of Ever Banega and Pablo Hernandez making them a stronger team than before. Sevilla is similarly unchanged and a mid season change of manager has brought the free flowing football and stability back into the team. Atletico and Villareal have disappointed, the latter very much so since meltdowns are always expected of the mattress makers, but their seasons are negated somewhat by the splendid season Mallorca has had. More importantly, none of these teams have lost any of their significant players, so to characterise them as weaker is certainly a knee-jerk reaction at best.

No, the true reason, as has always been, is each other. Barca and Madrid have pushed each other step by step all season long. Unlike in England, where also the season finished with one point separating the top two but the race was run by trying to make sure that the team stumbled the least number of times, Spain has seen a title race in the teams have made each other run faster and faster and breach previously untouched frontiers. Every comfortable win by Barca has seen Madrid match the victory with a now typical resilient performance and every Madrid thrashing has seen Barca somehow hold on to their nerves and record their own positive result. Barca has lost just one game all season and did the second successive double over Madrid, while Madrid has broken the record for most number of wins, scoring over a hundred goals along the way.

But then why this season over all the others? What makes it special? The primary reason would that the current Barca, which is being talked about in the same breath as the greatest teams ever, achieved so much and so outrageously swimmingly that its eternal rivals could not help but react to this dominance. Thus came the neo Galacticos spending spree and a complete rehauling of the squad which has forced Barca to be even better than it was before. Surely a season which is defined by pushing the boundaries of perfection instead of merely hoping to screw up less than the other fellow deserves to be called the greatest title race ever?

Whatever the reasons, whatever the legitimacy of this assertion may be, the truth is that these performances have been exceptional. Cliches are so because they are often true, and neither is more true than the one that both teams deserve their hands on the trophy. In 24 hours the curtain closes, and it is a huge shame that it has to

Interwebs Funnies

2010-04-26T07:59:00.000-07:00

In recent months, I have taken the opportunity (read: procrastination) to the useful ends of increasing my webcomics library. Webcomics hold a unique position in sequential art. They perform the same roles as newspaper comic strips but can push the limits a lot farther because their forum is the internet which isn't bound by censorship. Several webcomics also use unique technological aspects such as flash and GIFs to achieve interesting results. This post is a short but certainly not an exhaustive list of webcomics which I have liked and are worth checking out because, let's face it, you have nothing better to do as well. (Note: If any picture is too small to be legible, don't be stupid and start complaining, just click on it.)

Creme de la Creme
These are the webcomics which are nothing short of trailblazing. They have made the rules which others followed and are some of the finest in humour literature. Definite must reads.

xkcd
One of the all time classics, this self styled "webcomic of romance, sarcasm, math and language" is easily one of the most intelligent webcomics around. Rightly regarded as one of the best ever, some of the trains of thought explored in this comic are truly and absurdly unique. You are not an internet geek until you have experienced xkcd.

Sample:

Bonus: Roll over mouse on the cartoons in the site for extra quip.

The Perry Bible Fellowship
I was recently introduced to this webcomic and I am still angry at myself at not having discovered it earlier. An absolute gem, each and every one of the comics is a classic in itself. This comic mastered dark humour, hardly anything else has come close in terms of shock value. Another highlight is the excellent art, a rarity for webcomics, the artist is able to switch from disparate styles like hard boiled noir to pretty pink ponies nonchalantly. A must read, if you can stomach it at its worst.

Sample:

Bizarro
Not exactly a webcomic as the Bizarro strip is an old and popular syndicated newspaper strip, but the creator Dan Piraro does put up his offerings on his blog. The forte of this comic is surreal, wacky humour backed by the art to pull it off. Its a wonder how this hasn't become as popular as some of the truly insipid offerings in newspaper funnies but it deserves its spot among the top. His blog is an excellently bizarre read as well, one could do worse than taking the crazy train with him.

Sample:

Bonus: Go treasure hunting for his hidden symbols inside every comic

Best of the Rest
This are some webcomics which are brilliant and deservedly lauded in their own right, although they may lack just that extra bit to not make it to the cream. Nevertheless, they are definitely essential reading as well and are excellent ambassadors of the medium.

Cyanide and Happiness
A controversial choice to be put in the second tier I am sure, C&H (not the one with the boy and his stuffed tiger) is widely regarded as one of the best webcomics ever created. Created by a four member team, each member is able to bring his unique perspective while conforming to the overall theme of the comic to maintain the flow. And that theme is vulgarity, dark, dark humour and extreme political incorrectness. Not for the easily offended, definitely for the rest.

Sample:
Bonus: Check out their animated shorts too.

Piled Higher and Deeper (PhD)
A webcomic which is a must read for any student. Astonishingly hilarious, the travails of a bunch of graduate students in Stanford is made all the more awkwardly funny by the fact that so much of it is actually true. Who here hasn't experienced the scoffing of the clock because he plans to pull an all nighter and then opened his eyes five minutes later to see its morning? Or waited all day outside the professor's chambers only to be told to come tomorrow? Or.. well, the examples are endless. PhD is to students what Dilbert is to office goers, the sarcastic humour lightens the mood and makes the journey that much more bearable.

Sample:

Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
The webcomic which I have been reading the archive of in the last week or so and what inspired me to write this post. An excellent politically incorrect comic, the common trick in the strips is to give a normal situation and then make it absurd through a subsequent comment or caption which totally changes the perspective. This can make it a bit predictable at times, which is why its in the second tier. A special mention to the recurring Jesus and sexist jokes. They are some of the best.

Sample:
Bonus: Roll over mouse on the red button underneath the comic in the site for extra comic.

Worth a Glance
These are some webcomics which are either not as good to be clubbed among the ones in the above lists or are just too specific to be for everyone's tastes. Nevertheless, they offer something different and will give good value if your taste coincides with theirs. If you're interested by its concept go for it.

Studs Up
A bloody brilliant webcomic on football, it would have definitely made it above the list if everyone loved the game. Sadly, most of the world's problems can perhaps be attributed to this failing of a good chunk of humanity. As for me, since I love both football and comics, how can I possibly not like it. Since he's best when poking fun of something current in football, here's a recent offering.

Sample:

Loli Loves Venom
A cute little webcomic with excellent art, the premise is that the mean old Marvel supervillain Venom somehow becomes the pet of a little girl. This leads to bizarrely hilarious situations (all within the awww quotient of course). A pity that the comic was cut short when real life caught up with the creator. The good news is that she is thinking of bringing it back now.

Sample:

Batman and Sons
It started out as a response by the creator who had got tired of heavy continuity laden superhero stories and wanted to see something which harkened back to the clean, fun days of yore. So he made a short stand alone story of Batman and his Robin kids and put it up on his deviantart profile. The concept became so popular that it grew and now it is a respected webcomic among superhero comic lovers. Requires a minimum knowledge of DC to properly appreciate but don't let that stop you. I have linked to his deviantart profile because that's where it all started but if you google the name, you'll find his blogs where he puts them up as well.

Sample:

Well then, that's three webcomics in each category and I think I'll stop here. There's a lot more which could have been added into any of these lists but these posts is too long already. It's not going to help my reputation of writing long, meandering posts. I can always bring out a Volume 2 if need be. Later.

La Pulga (The Flea)

2010-04-07T05:08:00.000-07:00

There are some players who you want to see play all the time. There are some players who are so good you secretly love watching them even if they played for your hated rivals. There are some players who can inspire such loyalty that you would change club allegiances if they move.

Then there are the very few, very special players who it is simply a privilege to experience. Who do things which haven't been done before and will likely not be repeated in your lifetime. Whose brilliance transcends boundaries and unites every fan in experiencing that simple feeling which is the hardest to command - the pride of saying "Yes, I was there. I've seen him play."

Lionel Andres Messi is such a player.

This is like flogging a dead horse, no? Reams have been written about him in recent times, nothing really is left to be said. Hell, even the narrow minded English football fan who is myopic enough to believe that Theo Walcott is the X-Factor in any game, let alone a game against Barcelona, is coming around to the realisation that the lad probably is actually good. But really, how can I not?

Leo Messi is making the impossible routine. In the last 30 days he has scored 16 goals. 16! That's more than what Emile Heskey has scored in the last three seasons. Combined. He scored thrice three times in 2010 including in two successive matches in the league and so made the hattrick passe. Therefore, he went and scored four yesterday against Arsenal. And the scariest part is, yesterday wasn't his best performance, he is capable of doing better. And he is only 22.

But the statistics are not the point. They are just a side effect of his brilliance. The point is his brilliance. The point is it is such a joy for anyone to watch him play. The sheer raw innocence of taking defenders on and beating them every single time. He is the child who never grew up, the child who made a monkey's uncle of his playground opponents just because he could, and still does it. He is what we all daydreamed of becoming during our childhood, he is our dreams magnified. As Sid Lowe puts it, "he has made the ridiculous so routine that he doesn't get talked about as much as deserves; playing perfectly is hardly news." He has scored more solo goals in this calendar year than most Ballon d' Or winners have scored in their career. He is a throwback to an era when skill was more valued than physicality, he has shown that genius cannot be obtained merely by being the fastest runner or the strongest bulldozer. He makes the cheeky lovable, the impudent adorable. And he does it all without declaring that he is the first, second and third best in the world. He doesn't need to.

Leo Messi has become so good that the debate is no longer whether he is the best player in the world. The debate has shifted to whether he is the best player ever. While that is something which can only be decided at the end of his career, it is easy to see what the next step towards achieving that status is - the World Cup. Although I am traditionally a Brazil fan, a part of me will be cheering him on this time. And you wouldn't put it past him to do a Maradona and drag his country to the trophy.

Regardless of what happens, even if he by, the unlikeliest of transfers, moves to Real Madrid, I will watch him play as much as I can. Yesterday, a new mission was added to my 'things to do before I die' list; I have to watch him play live once. Because then I can boast that "Yes, I was there. I've seen him play."

Indie Richness: Review of "Too Cool to be Forgotten"

2010-04-02T05:46:00.000-07:00

There are times when I get in the mood of reading comics which I have never heard of. At these times I trawl through the offerings of certain publishers like Top Shelf, Oni Press and Fantagraphics who consistently bring out top draw stuff in the writing department, even if the overall effect isn't as flashy and clean as the ones brought out by bigger publishers with better budgets. I also keep an eye out for certain scanners who specialise in making these unheralded comics available, one is especially indebted to Dts who happens to be one of my favourite scanners for this reason. I am rarely disappointed by these comics and they offer a clean outlet for someone who is fatigued by epic, connecting storylines as I, being a voracious DC reader, often get. This then is how I keep expanding my Indie comics collection.

One of the comics I encountered in this way was this - "Too Cool to be Forgotten". I had absolutely no idea what the graphic novel is about, the description offered little, but the cover and name were intriguing and Top Shelf is stunning when it comes to delivering human stories. So I decided to take the plunge. What I got was a brilliant emotional roller-coaster of a tale of reflection, humour and ultimately of denial and acceptance. As with most good things, the setup is simple. The protagonist is a man in his forties who wants to stop smoking but has tried and failed every conventional method to do so. At his wife's insistence, he decides to go to a hypnotist who believes that the power of mind and belief can help one cure anything. For their session she sends him back to his high school years without warning and the rest of the comic has him reliving those days as a 40 year old in his 15 year old body.

The storyline is taut and the awkwardness of an old man going through high school is brilliant. It's a good setting for humour and Alex Robinson doesn't disappoint. The scene where his head starts swimming when he sees long forgotten algebra and trigonometry equations is hilarious. (Hell, I left maths four years ago and I felt the same when my sister came to me to teach her.) And of course, experiencing the sudden rush of teenage hormones again would leave anyone disoriented.

The humour is ultimately a brilliant easing of a poignant tale on his search for why he has been transported to this period. His search leads him to the recollection of a party where he smoked his first cigarette and he comes to the conclusion that if he attended it again and declined the offered cigarette then his problems are solved and he'll go back to his time a cured man. After suitable drama and mishaps he manages to say 'no' but the solution fails. Confused, he becomes resigned to living his entire life all over again when the true reason of his affliction hits him. The final scene of him coming to terms with it is one of the most powerfully written scenes in fiction and one cannot help but feeling what he is feeling when he is going through those raw emotions.

The writing and pacing is exceptional and is the definite highlight of the comic. The dialogue, while messy and forced at times, is otherwise natural manages to drive home the point. The art while being simple complements the story well and it probably helped that nothing too complicated was required to embellish it. Any lover of humane stories with a touch of surrealism must read this and for the rest, what's stopping you anyway? It's a pity how there are so many unheralded works in fiction just because they are low-budget and not advertised well. The Indie comics scene is filled with rich stuff, methinks I will plunge into it now.

More Than Just The Cantera

2010-03-26T13:33:00.000-07:00

There has been a lot of talk over the last couple of years on how FC Barcelona is a model club in that they have built a champion football team primarily through youth products with the occasional astute signings. While it is certainly true that La Masia is currently the leading youth academy in the world which includes not just the players currently playing in the club, but others like Fabregas, Arteta and Capel who are enriching other teams and leagues as well. However, it is a bit of an stretch to hold a moral high ground solely on the basis of how many youth products are in the first team and frankly unfair on the Ronaldinhos and Eto'os who came to the club and became legends by their own right. It is also a stretch to declare that this has always been the Barca philosophy.

Not the complete story

Youth systems go through their own golden periods where by a mixture of coincidence and a good system a bunch of talented players come together at once. Barca is having one now, in the 90s it was Ajax and Manchester United, in the 80s Real Madrid's five title winning team was built on a spine of home grown players. Before the rules regarding foreign players were relaxed, every team was anyway dependent on its youth products and the occasional foreign star.

While it is true that to preserve the Catalan identity of the club there has always been an emphasis on having Catalans playing for the club and this invariably means a healthy focus on the youth academy, it is not like Barca has always been a flagbearer in having teams which are solely dependent on home grown players. The Dream Team and throughout the 90s there were more than a fair share of first teamers who were bought from outside. If one remembers the sorry Gaspart era, Barca had a Madrid spending policy, except without the titles (brr). In recent history, the focus on youth products was only intensified in the later stages of Rijkaard and of course Guardiola eras of which the fruit is being reaped now.

While it is heartening and certainly a source of pride that the sextuple was truly won by a team which was mostly built from ground up, it should be remembered that a lot of this is down to the good fortune that players like Xavi, Iniesta and Messi have come together at once instead of ten years apart. I am more proud of the fact that no matter who is coaching or where the players come from, our attacking philosphy which was defined by Cruyff has remained steadfast and all the players from Messi to Oleguer have to accede to it. That philosophy is what really defines Barca, not how many youth products started the CL final. And that is why I support the club.

I Am Youuuu!

2010-03-04T06:39:00.000-08:00

An old Youtube classic. If you haven't seen it, shame on you. Watch it now. If have seen it, you know you want to see it again.

Heh. Clone baby gets me everytime.

Some Things Don't Change, Even When They Do - Delhi

2010-03-03T01:53:00.000-08:00

Hello, my fictional readership. You must be wondering about the reason of my long absence. It's just my last post was my 42nd and the Hitchhiker in me couldn't resist keeping it that way.
Not really, I've just been too lazy, no other excuses.
Hell, why do I need an excuse? It's my blog, I can be as frequent as I want to in updating it. You're not the boss of me. Especially since you don't exist.

...

Well, that was fun. Anyway, the subject of this post is my long overdue return to Delhi, the city I lived in for three years and left in 2001. It would be an understatement to say that the city I left doesn't exist anymore. When I left, Dhaula Kuan was still a circle, now it's a mess of flyovers. I was so disoriented I went past my school and only realised it at the last moment. And that was just the beginning, the city has changed enormously in the span of a decade and some parts are pretty much unrecognisable. A lot of the changes are good, the roads have become wider, the Metro is a godsend, the booze is cheaper than Bangalore. But for someone who expected a little more familiarity, this has been unnerving. Still, I was able to orient myself after a week and now I am comfortable with it.

Of course, some things never change. Old Delhi is still the same, with its narrow busy roads and delicious cheap food (or diarrhoea if you don't know where to look for it). The corridors of power remain pristine. Outer CP has the same charm even though the inner circle has changed face completely. And the heartbeat of the city ticks the same way, Delhi was, is and always will be a city of people who are show offs and ill-tempered, but at the same time go the extra mile in helping you. And it is the people who really make the city after all, they breathe life into the facade.

I am more than two weeks into my stay now, and although I would have liked to travel around a it more by now, it's been an enjoyable stay. I wouldn't mind working here if the opportunity would arise. I find that I still like the city.

Except for the part where my phone got stolen. Sucks.

Omnia mutantur, nihil inherit.

Comeback of (Out of) Sorts

2010-01-21T18:06:00.000-08:00

It's 7:30 am. I haven't slept all night.

In fact, I've slept three hours in the last three days because I've been working on my moot memorials (which just got submitted, fingers crossed). Now I can do with sleep deprivation better than most people, but this is really, pushing it.

No point in going to sleep now, I'll miss class. Speaking of which, first two hours is the attendance cutting marching maniac, super-Nagarathna Saibaba. And she hates me. So I can't afford to sleep for the first two hours.

It's a perfect recipe for disaster.

Might as well go shave and remove the two week old itchy-scratchy beard. If I am found death with a pool of blood coagulating around my throat, please note that it wasn't a suicide attempt. I probably dozed off and used the razor as something to lean on.

... Forever

2009-11-22T09:30:00.000-08:00

My voice is almost gone.
I have never drank so much as I have in the last four days.
I have never mixed drinks this much and all this is giving me frequent bouts of nausea.
My legs have buckled innumerable times in the last few hours after three days of standing in the sun.
I have worn the same pair of three-quarters for the last three days even though they have obtained layers of dust by now.

Strawberry Fields...

A Moving Snapshot of India

2009-11-11T10:06:00.000-08:00

It was roughly 8:30 am when I woke up in the train. My sleep had been fitful, mostly because of the loudmouthed passenger below and I would have ideally liked to sleep more, but the attendant with the pre-ordered breakfast was prodding me. Grumbling and mumbling (as I do every morning till I wash my face), I accepted it and did the morning’s business.

After breakfast, I needed a break from the stuffy compartment so I went to the train door, opened it and looked outside. Luckily, the weather was brilliant and breezy, and I had one of my most refreshing experiences in a while.

I wonder if you have noticed it, but there’s always a reassuring similarity in the moving scenery outside a train wherever it may be in the Indian plains. There is always farm land; it seemed to be paddy fields rushing past me this time. Clearly the area had been blessed with good rain, because the artificially scooped little canals for catching and transporting rainwater were full in complete muddy brown glory. Now and then a little village would whiz by and the children who were playing with their deflated tires and crude dolls would look up and stare; this being a universal instinct all kids share, no matter how many trains pass them in a day. There were several fruit orchards among the fields, something which has always unnerved me. There’s just something weird about full grown trees arranged in neat, little rows and columns, it deviates too much from nature’s chaos for my liking.

I was pretty lost in thought admiring these sights which we city folk take as mundane but in reality get the opportunity to experience rarely. I wondered what it would be like to live such simple lives in agriculture based villages and oddly resented them for having such clear priorities, pleasures and pains. Of course, a farmer’s life is by no means rosy, but then very few lives in general are. Still, it must be much more satisfying and refreshing to take a bath in a river or lake after a hot day’s work then in a shower or bucket. I remember how relaxing the river bath in Hampi was.

I was peering out and looking ahead when I noticed that the train was running smack into a storm. It was a good one too. Within no time, my exposed hands on the door handles were getting hit by the raindrops, and each of them hurt like a bee sting. I weathered it for about ten minutes but then beat a hasty retreat to my berth and under my warm blanket. I hadn’t carried my watch or phone with me so I didn’t know how much time I had spent outside. I had judged it to be a half an hour at the most till I checked my watch. I had spent close to one and a half hours looking outside.

The Tragical Comedy of Beach Ball 1 - 0 Liverpool

2009-10-17T15:00:00.000-07:00

Every now and then, the EPL gets down from its straitjacketed stiff-upper-lip pedestal and delivers a truly farcical moment. These moments have become quite prevalent this season and are making otherwise academic title chases quite interesting, but have so far have been mostly limited to managerial rants and antics off the pitch. Today's Sunderland 1-0 win over Liverpool provided a rare moment on it.

The sole goal came when the shot deflected off a beach ball lying on the six yard line and pretty much mindf*cked Pepe Reina who couldn't decide whether to go after the football or the giant red balloon. For the record, he chose to ignore the football and wave a feeble hand at the beach ball, whether to curse it or to try and save it in the hope that the referee would be colour blind and think it is the football he's saved we'll never know. He failed anyway.

The supremely sweet irony lies in the fact that the beach ball was.. a 'Pool branded ball thrown by an industriously moronic 'Pool fan. ('Pool, beach - heh)

I feel sorry for the poor kid. His moment of stupidity has in all likelihood caused him to be disowned by his family by now and has probably dared not make the trip back to his hometown for fear of being lynched and quartered. Because, like every other self-respecting set of fans, the Liverpool supporters would have invariably laid the entire blame of the loss on him and his ball, completely ignoring the fact that they were second best and deserved to lose anyway. In fact, if Liverpool fall short of the title by a whopping ten-fifteen points (which is looking entirely possible right now), they'll blame the whole thing on that ball.

But maybe they have a right to be paranoid. Maybe the whole thing was planned all along. But who would be so insidiously devious to come up with such a cunning plan to crush the morale of the Liverpool players?
http://i37.tinypic.com/2njg5tl.gif
Who else?

Century Babies and Multiversal Snowflakes

2009-10-10T07:21:00.000-07:00

Planetary #27 released this week, a few dinosaur years after the penultimate issue, and a little piece of comics history is finally complete.

Planetary is science fiction at its very, very best. A Warren Ellis creation, the comic has unique takes on life, death, souls, the universe, micro/macro scale realities and a number of other concepts, ably supported by a good plot which is simple to understand. A known superhero hater, Ellis has taken classy digs at most superheroes imaginable, in fact the villains are a highly skewed version of the Fantastic Four. Also included are several classic fictional characters in their familiar forms or as obvious inspirations, ranging from Sherlock Holmes to James Bond. It's not unlike League of Extraordinary Gentlemen in a way.

The basic premise of Planetary is that the title is the name of an organisation of "mystery archaelogists" who are always looking out for weird stuff to save and protect as they wish to ensure that the world stays strange because that is how it is supposed to be. And indeed, over the series, it gives food for thought over a good number of things which we take for granted, or worse, don't even bother contemplating. And just like Transmetropolitan, Ellis makes sure that it never gets too heavy and there are more than sufficient doses of action and humour. The characters are unique and typical of Ellis, although they do fall into the clearly defined roles of "the cool, aloof hero", "the all action star", "the maverick young 'un", "the megalomaniac arch-enemy" etc etc. The main character, Elijah Snow, is recruited into it (and more, but that would be a spoiler). Snow is also a "century baby" - people who were born on January 1, 1900 and all of whom are gifted with powers and functional immortality (pretty sure Midnight's Children was an inspiration). Another concept at the the heart of the series is the snowflake shaped structure of the multiverse where every facet is a 2-D universe. Quite interesting, that.

Planetary also has one of the best Batman one-shots ever. It's a pity that Ellis is so allergic to superhero stuff. The very few superhero related stuff he has done (and I have read) are top draw.

It's one of the comics every comic reader must read otherwise their lives will be sadder for missing out on them. It's as simple as that.

Mitch Hedberg Quotes

2009-10-03T07:58:00.000-07:00

Routine post till I come up with something after projects. Picked it up from the little piece of internet heaven called KL! (won't describe it over the blog because that will break Fight Club rules), thanks MSD.
Mitch Hedberg rocks, in my humble opinion. He's up there with Hicks, God rest his soul. No one delivered surreal humour better. The ones I really like are in bold.
P.S. it's pretty long, you have been warned.

* I got an ant farm... them fellas didn't grow shit!

* I went to a doctor, all he did was suck blood from my neck. Don't go see Dr. Acula.

* I had a Mr. Pibb, Mr. Pibb is a replica of Dr. Pepper... but it's the bullshit replica, cause dude didn't even get his degree.

* One time a guy handed me a picture and said "Here's a picture of me when I was younger." Every picture is of you when you were younger! "Here's a picture of me when I'm older." You son of a bitch, how'd you pull that off? Let me see that camera.

* I'd like to see a forklift lift a crate of forks... it'd be so damn literal! You are using that machine to its exact purpose!

* Last week I helped my friend stay put. It's a lot easier than helping someone move. I just went over to his house and made sure that he did not start to load shit into a truck.

* I think we should only get 3 honks a month on the car horn, because people honk the car horn too much. 3 honks, that's the limit. And then someone cuts you off, ffffft, you press your horn, nothing happens. You're like, "shit! I wish I wouldn't have seen Ricky on the sidewalk!"

* I'm against picketing, but I don't know how to show it.

* I was at this casino minding my own business, and this guy came up to me and said, "You're gonna have to move, you're blocking a fire exit." As though if there was a fire, I wasn't gonna run. If you're flammable and have legs, you are never blocking a fire exit.

* I wanna be a race car passenger - just a guy who bugs the driver. "Say man, can I turn on the radio? You should slow down. Why we gotta keep going in circles? Can I put my feet out the window? Man, you really like Tide."

* My friend asked me if I wanted a frozen banana, I said "no, but I want a regular banana later, so... yeah."

* I walked by a drycleaner at 3am, the sign said "Sorry, we're closed." You don't have to be sorry, it's 3am and you're a drycleaner. It would be ridiculous for me to expect you to be open. I'm not gonna walk in at 10am and say "Hey, I walked in at 3am and you guys were closed. Somebody owes me an apology."

* I got a business card, cause I wanna win some lunches. That's what my business card says: "Mitch Hedberg, Potential Lunch Winner."

* I had a paper route when I was a kid, I was a paper boy. I was supposed to go to 2,000 houses... or 2 dumpsters!

* I like the hot tubs at the hotels. I like to go there when there's a guy in there already, I say "hey man, you mind if I join you?" He says no. Then I go and I turn the whirlpool heat up, then I go by and I add some carrots and onions. Then I say "hey man, just simmer for a whil- I mean, sit there."

* I would like to have a product that was available for 3 easy payments and one Frackin' complicated payment. We ain't gonna tell you which payment it is, but one of these payments is gonna be a bitch!

* I saw this wino, he was eating grapes. It's like, "dude, you have to wait."

* I saw a commercial that said, "forget everything you know about slip covers!" So I did. And it was a load off my mind. Then the commercial tried to sell me slip covers, but I didn't know what the hell they were.

* Every McDonald's commercial ends the same way, right? "Prices and participation may vary." I wanna open a McDonald's and not participate in anything. I wanna be a stubborn McDonald's owner. Cheeseburgers? Nope. We got spaghetti! And blankets!

* I was gonna have my teeth whitened, but then I said Frack that, I'll just get a tan instead.

* I had a job interview at an insurance company once, and the lady said "Where do you see yourself in five years?" I said, "Celebrating the fifth year anniversary of you asking me this question!"

* I bought a house, it's a 2-bedroom house. But I think it's up to me how many bedrooms there are, don't you? Frack you real estate lady, this bedroom has an oven in it! This bedroom has a lot of people sitting around watching TV. This bedroom's over in that guy's house.

* I like the FedEx driver, because he's a drug dealer, and he don't even know it.

* I wanna hang a map of the world in my house. Then I'm gonna put pins into all the locations that I've traveled to. But first, I'm gonna have to travel to the top two corners of the map, so it won't fall down.

* You know when a company wants to use letters in their phone number to be catchy? But often times they use too many letters. "Give us a call down here at 1-800-I-Really-Enjoy-Carpeting." It's too many letters, man. "Hello?" "Hold on, I'm only on 'Enjoy'! How did you know I was calling?"

* I bought a 7 dollar pen, because I always lose pens, and I got sick of not caring.

* I would imagine if you understood Morse code, a tap dancer would drive you crazy!

* I had a small scene in a movie with Peter Frampton. And we had to smoke pot for our scene - but it was fake pot! Do not buy pot on a movie set. But I got to smoke fake pot with Peter Frampton, that's a cool story. It's as cool as smoking real pot with a guy who looks like Peter Frampton... I've done that way more.

* The thing that's depressing about tennis is, no matter how good I get, I'll never be as good as a wall. I played a wall once... they're Fracking relentless!

* People ask me what words mean... they say, "what does 'composition' mean?" Some people would say, "put it in a sentence." But I need a little more. "Put it in a play."

* If I'm out to dinner with a group of friends, and someone offers to pay for the check, I immediately reach for my wallet. Because inside is a note that says "say thanks."

* Every book is a children's book, if the kid can read!

* My friend said to me "I think the weather's trippy." And I said "No man, it's not the weather that's trippy. Perhaps it is the way that we percieve it that is indeed trippy." Then I thought "man, I should have just said 'yeah'."

* I like escalators, because an escalator can never break; it can only become stairs. You would never see an "escalator temporarily out of order" sign, just "Escalator temporarily stairs... sorry for the convenience. We apologize for the fact that you can still get up there."

* When I was on acid, I would see things like beams of light... and I would hear sounds that sounded an awful lot like car horns.

* I was in a hotel room and my friend comes over, he says "can I use the phone?" I said "certainly." He said "do I need to dial 9?" "Yeah... especially if it's in the number. You can try 4 and 5 back to back real quick."

* I wanna get a job naming kitchen appliances, that seems easy. Refrigerator, toaster, blender... you just say what the thing does, then you add "er". Kitchen Appliance Naming Institute... "What does this thing do?" "It keeps shit fresh." "Well then that's a fresher! I'm going on break."

* I did a radio interview with XM radio... they said "you can swear on XM radio." No shit, cause nobody can hear it. You can swear in the woods, too!

* As a comedian, you have to start the show strong and you have to end the show strong. Those are the two key elements. You can't be like pancakes... all exciting at first, but then by the end you're Frackin' sick of em.

* Alcoholism is a disease, but it's the only disease that you can get yelled at for having. Goddammit Otto, you're an alcoholic! Goddammit Otto, you have lupus! One of those two doesn't sound right.

* I know a lot about cars, I can look at a car's headlights and tell you exactly which way it's coming.

* I say the word "totally" way too much. I need to change it and use a word that's different but means the same. "Mitch, do you like submarine sandwiches?" "All-encompassingly!"

* I went to the Home Depot the other day, which was unnecessary... I need to go to the Apartment Depot, which is just a big warehouse with people standing around saying "hey, we ain't gotta fix shit!"

* I used to do drugs. I still do, but I used to, too.

* I like refried beans, that's why I wanna try fried beans. Cause maybe they're just as good, and we're wasting time. You don't have to fry them again, after all!

* I hate dreaming, because when you wanna sleep, you wanna sleep. Dreaming is work, you know? Like there I am, laying in my comfortable bed in my hotel room... next thing I know, I have to build a go-cart with my ex-landlord.

* I drank some boiling water, because I wanted to whistle.

* On a traffic light, green means go and yellow means yield, but on a banana, it's just the opposite. Green means hold on. Yellow means go ahead. And red means, where the Frack did you get that banana at?

* My apartment is infested with koala bears... it's the cutest infestation ever! Way better than cockroaches. When I turn on the light, a bunch of koala bears scatter. And I don't want 'em to, you know?

* I don't have any children, but if I had a baby, I would have to name it. So I would buy a baby naming book... or I would invite somebody over who had a cast on!

* I think Bigfoot is blurry, that's the problem. It's not the photographers' fault! Bigfoot is blurry... and that's extra scary to me. Cause there's a large, out-of-focus monster roaming the countryside.

* I opened up a yogurt, and underneath the lid it said "please try again", because they were having a contest I was unaware of. But I thought I might have opened the yogurt wrong. Or maybe Yoplait was trying to inspire me. "Come on Mitchell, don't give up... please try again." A message of inspiration from your friends at Yoplait. Fruit on the bottom, hope on top.

* I miss the $2... I could break a $2.

* My sister wanted to be an actress... she never made it, but she does live in a trailer. She got half-way. It's like she's an actress, she's just never called to the set.

* Sometimes I wave to people I don't know... very dangerous to wave to someone you don't know, because what if they don't have a hand? They'll think you're cocky! Look what I got, motherFracker... this thing is useful! I'm gonna go pick something up!

* Is a hippopotamus a hippopotamus? Or just a really cool opotamus?

* I did a radio interview, the DJ's first question was "who are you?" I had to think: is this guy really deep, or did I drive to the wrong station?

* I think Pizza Hut is the cockiest pizza chain on the planet, because Pizza Hut will accept all competitors' coupons. That makes me wish I had my own pizza place. "Mitch's Pizzaria... this week's coupon: unlimited free pizza. Special Note: coupon not good at any of the Mitch's Pizza locations. Free pizza oven with purchase of a small Coke. Two-for Tuesday: buy one pizza, get one franchise free."

* Last time I called shotgun, we had rented a limo... so I Fracked up.

* Foosball Fracked up my perception of soccer. I thought you had to kick the ball, and then spin around and round. I can't do a backflip, much less several... simultaneously with two other guys... that look just like me.

* I had a bag of Fritos, they were Texas Grilled Fritos. These Fritos had grill marks on 'em. Hell yeah! Reminds me of summer, when we used to fire up the barbeque, and throw down on some Fritos. I can still see my dad with the apron on... "you better flip that Frito dad, you know how I like it."

* You know, I'm sick of following my dreams, man. I'm just gonna ask where they're going, and hook up with them later.

* Fish are always eating other fish. If fish could scream, the ocean would be loud as shit! You would not want to submerge your head... nothing but fish going "Ahhhh, Frack! I thought I looked like that rock!"

* The club owner here hooks me up with drugs, like cocaine or pot brownies. But last time I was in town he gave me a drug for attention deficit disorder, because he's afflicted. But I'm not, so what happened to me was I suddenly had an extra-long attention span. People would be telling me a story, then the story would end and I'd get all mad and shit. "Come on man, there's gotta be more to that story!"

* I wake up in the morning, I make myself a bowl of instant oatmeal, then I don't do shit for an hour. Which makes me wonder why I need the instant oatmeal! I could get the regular oatmeal and feel productive.

* I got into an argument with a girlfriend inside of a tent. That's a bad place for an argument. Cause then I tried to walk out, and slam the flap. How are you supposed to express your anger in this situation? Zip it up really quick?

* I mumble a lot off stage, I'm a mumbler. If I'm walking with a friend, and I say something, he won't hear me, he'll say "what?" So I'll say it again, but once again he doesn't hear me, so he says "what?" But really it's just some insignificant shit that I'm saying... but now I'm yelling, "That tree is far away!"

* I did comedy for a fundraiser once, we were trying to raise money to buy one of those machines that shows how much money has been raised.

* I've had the AIDS test four times. And that shit is scary, doesn't matter what you've been doing. So I don't get the regular AIDS test anymore, I get the roundabout AIDS test. I call up my friend Brian and say "Brian, do you know anyone that has AIDS? No? Cool... cause you know me."

* I get the Reese's candy bar... if you read that name, Reese's, that's an "apostrophe s" on the end of that name. That means the candy bar is his. I didn't know that. Next time you're eating a Reese's candy bar and a guy named Reese comes buy and says "let me have that", you better hand it over. "I'm sorry Reese, I didn't think I'd ever run into you. You're a Frackin' bully, man!"

* The Kit-Kat candy bar has the name "Kit-Kat" imprinted into the chocolate. That robs you of chocolate! That's a clever chocolate-saving technique. I'll go down to the factory... "you owe me some letters!"

* As a comedian, I always get into situations where I'm auditioning for movies and sitcoms, you know? As a comedian, they want you to do other things besides comedy. They say "alright you're a comedian, can you write? Write us a script. Act in this sitcom." They want me to do shit that's related to comedy, but it's not comedy, man. It's not fair, you know? It's as though if I was a cook, and I worked my ass off to become a really good cook, and they said "alright you're a cook... can you farm?"

* This one guy said "look at that girl's butt! She has a nice butt." I said "yeah, I bet she can sit down excellently."

* 2 in 1 shampoo... 2 in 1 is a bullshit term, because 1 is not big enough to hold 2. That's why 2 was created. If it was 2 in 1, it would be overflowing... the bottle would be all sticky and shit.

* I bought a doughnut, and they gave me a receipt for the doughnut. I don't need a receipt for the doughnut, man, I'll just give you the money then you give me the doughnut! End of transaction. We don't need to bring ink and paper into this. I just can't imagine a scenario where I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. Some skeptical friend... don't even act like I didn't get that doughnut! I got the documentation right here. Oh wait, it's at home... in the file... under 'D'.

* I called the hotel operator, she said "how can I direct your call?" Well, you could say "action!" And I will begin to dial. And then when I say goodbye, you could yell "cut!"

* When we were on acid, we would go into the woods... cause when you're in the woods tripping, there's less likely a chance you'll run into an authority figure. But we ran into a bear. That was even more of a buzzkill. My friend Dwayne was standing there raising his right hand, swearing to help prevent forest fires. We got away from the bear, he put his arm around my shoulder, he said "Mitchell... Smokey is way more intense in person!"

* I had the cab driver drive me here backwards... the Fracker owed me $27.50!

* I bought a scratch-off ticket, but then I accidentally spilled some cortizone cream on it, so it did not need to be scratched.

* I played in a death metal band. People either loved us or they hated us... or they thought we were okay. A lot of death metal bands have intense names, like "Rigormortis" or "Mortuary" or "Obituary". We weren't that intense, we just went with "Injured". Later on we changed it to "A Capella"... as we were walking out of the pawn shop.

* I'm an ice sculptor... last night I made a cube.

* I was in downtown Boise Idaho and I saw a duck. And I knew the duck was lost, cause ducks ain't supposed to be downtown, there's nothing for 'em there. So I went to a Subway sandwich shop, I said "let me have a bun." But she wouldn't sell me just the bun, she said I had to have something on it. She told me it's against regulations for Subway to sell just the bun. I guess the two halves ain't supposed to touch. So I said alright, well put some lettuce on it. They said, "that'll be $1.75." I said "it's for a duck." They said "alright, well then it's free." See, I did not know that. Ducks eat for free at Subway!! Had I known that, I would have ordered a much larger sandwich. "Let me have the steak fajita sub. But don't bother ringing it up... it's for a duck! There are 6 ducks out there, and they all want Sun Chips!!"

* I flew over an island that said "S.O.S.", so I landed, because I wanted to clean their pans.

* You know when they show someone on TV, washing their hair under a waterfall? That's Fracking bullshit man... cause that thing would knock you on your ass!

* I saw a billboard for a lottery, it said "estimated lotto jackpot 55 million." See, I did not know that shit was estimated. That would suck if you won and they go, "oh, we were off by two zeros. We estimate that you are angry!"

* My girlfriend works at Hooters... in the kitchen.

* Stephen Lynch is funny, he's a hard act to follow. I'm a hard act to follow too, cause when I'm done I take the microphone with me.

* I hope the next time I move I get a real easy phone number. Something like 222-2222. I would say sweet. People would say "Mitch, how do I get a hold of you?" I would say, "Just press 2 for a while! And when I answer, you will know that you have pressed 2 enough."

* I'm so glad I'm almost done the set, man... because I have a roll of Lifesavers in my pocket, and pineapple is next!

* When you go to a restaurant on the weekends, it's busy, so they start a waiting list. They start calling out names, they say "Dufrene, party of 2. Table ready for Dufrene, party of 2." And if no one answers, they'll say their name again. "Dufrane, party of 2." But then if no one answers they'll just go right on to the next name. "Bush, party of 3." Yeah... what happened to the Dufrenes? No one seems to give a shit. Who can eat at a time like this? People are missing! You Frackers are selfish. The Dufrenes are in someone's trunk right now, with duct tape over their mouths. And they're hungry - that's a double whammy. We need help. Bush, SEARCH party of 3! You can eat once you find the Dufrenes.

* My manager was concerned, he said "Mitch, don't use liquor as a crutch." I can't use liquor as a crutch... because a crutch helps me walk. Liquor severely screws up the way I walk. It ain't like a crutch, it's like a step I didn't see.

* I used to live here in Los Angeles... and I had an apartment, and I had a neighbor. And whenever he would knock on my wall, I knew he wanted me to turn my music down. And that made me angry, cause I like loud music. So when he knocked on the wall, I'd mess with his head. I'd say, "go around! I cannot open the wall. I don't know if you have a doorknob on the other side, but over here there's nothing... it's just flat!"

* I wanted to buy a candle holder, but the store didn't have one. So I got a cake.

* I smoke cigars occasionally, I don't know a lot about cigars. Like I'm at the cigar store, the man behind the counter says "what kind of cigars do you like?" "Uhh... Itsaboys."

* I used to have really long hair, and people thought I was high on stage, because people associate long hair with drug use. I wish long hair was associated with something other than drug use, like an extreme longing for cake. And then strangers would see a long-haired guy, they'd say "that Fracker eats cake! He is on bundt cake!" Mothers saying to their daughters, "don't bring the cake-eater over here anymore, he smells like flour. Did you see how excited he got when he found out your birthday was fast approaching?"

* I had a roommate, his name was Eddie, and Eddie was slow on the mental draw. I was writing a letter, I had a problem... I said, "Ed, how do you abbreviate Arkansas?" He said, "I don't know, just start spelling it, then quit!"

* Like, we had a refrigerator with a hard-boiled egg inside, after a few days the shell started to crack. Eddie's first comment was "man, this guy's a survivor!"

* I can't floss my teeth, man... I can't get into the flossing thing. People who smoke cigarettes, they say "man, you don't know how hard it is to quit smoking." Yes I do. It's as hard as it is to start flossing!

* You know when you go to concerts, and the kids get on stage and they jump into the crowd, stage diving? People think that's dangerous, but not me. Because humans are made out of 95% water! So the audience is 5 percent away from a pool.

* I rent a lot of cars, cause I go on the road. And when I drive a rental car, I don't know what's going on with it, right? So a lot of times I'll drive for like 10 miles with the emergency brake on. That doesn't say a lot for me, but it really doesn't say a lot for the emergency brake.

* I play the guitar, I taught myself how to play the guitar, which was a bad decision... because I didn't know how to play it, so I was a shitty teacher. I would never have went to me.

* I hate turkeys. If you go to the grocery store and you stand in front of the lunchmeat section for too long, you start to get pissed off at turkeys. You see, like, turkey ham, turkey pastrami, turkey bologna... somebody needs to tell the turkeys, "man, just be yourself!"

* I order the club sandwich all the time, but I'm not even a member, man! I don't know how I get away with it.
"I like my sandwiches with three pieces of bread."
"So do I."
"Well let's form a club then."
"Okay, but we need some more stipulations."
"Yes we do. Instead of cutting the sandwich once, let's cut it again."
"Yes, four triangles. And we will position them into a circle. And in the middle we will dump chips."
"Or potato salad."
"Okay. Lemme ask you a question: how do you feel about frilly toothpicks?"
"I'm for 'em!"
"Well this club is formed. Spread the word on menus nationwide!"

Technical Problems

2009-09-14T09:47:00.000-07:00

Due to various avoidable and unavoidable reasons and general laziness this blog shall be put on hold for a little longer but should be up and running by the time next month comes knocking. Thank you for your interest, dear reader.

If Footballers Facebooked

2009-08-14T08:21:00.000-07:00

sourced from Goal.com. They do come up with hilarious stuff sometimes.

Craig Bellamy has joined the group "Money is ruining football".
Benjani likes this

Tomas Rosicky is fit and loving life! can't wait for the new season
1 week ago
Tomas Rosicky is depressed
3 days ago

Arsene Wenger is not worried about his lack of transfers this summer as he has internal solutions. 1 hour ago
Alexandre Song Billong likes this
Abou Diaby likes this
Denilson likes this

Token Post

2009-08-07T13:01:00.000-07:00

since there have apparently been complaints of people getting sick of seeing the same 'Samu' post every day.

I have to do two weeks' effort worth of projects in five days starting tomorrow. Again. So much for turning over a new leaf. How in heaven's name will I have the energy to do a moot straight after that. Followed by the Allen and Overy course. Followed by tax mid term. Followed by Spiritus. Followed by another project (thanfully there is the feeling of having an exemption for the first time to look forward to). Followed by the next moot. Followed by end terms. Interspersed with all these are the organising of various CulComm events. And also the inaugural Five a Side Premier Football League under lights (this should be awesome). Oh, and Quirk too.

When the hell did I become this active??

Hmm, chilling for a week wasn't such a bad idea then. I clearly won't have time to do so again this trimester.

Thank You, Samu

2009-07-26T12:51:00.000-07:00

The last symbol of the of the 2004-06 F.C. Barcelona era is finally handing over his baton to the Guardiola regime. And the departure of Samuel Eto'o is honestly hitting me harder than Ronaldinho's, since he is leaving on a tremendous high.

Eto'o departs after becoming the third highest scorer in the history of the club, with a more than laudable record of 130 goals in 200 games, which includes a phenomenal 108 goals in 144 league games. He was the focal point of the Ronaldinho-Deco magic which dragged the club from the depths of the UEFA Cup to the top of Spain and Europe. He was the focal point of the Messi-Xavi-Iniesta magic which won the triplete three years later. He's scored crucial goals twice in Champions League finals, there are not many who can say that. His contribution to Barca's success in the new century has often been underestimated and overshadowed by the more glamorous names in the club. But the sheer weight of statistics tell their own story, and for once, a true one.

Eto'o was transferred into the club in 2004 from Real Mallorca, and being a typical Madrid casualty of the Galacticos (I) era, he hated the capital club with a vengeance. Which naturally suited Barca and with a player of his talent, it was a transfer just waiting to happen. During the next five seasons he showed a scoring instinct which I have rarely seen anywhere else. He was not the typical fox in the box, nor was he ever the most technically gifted, but he was blessed with sheer pace and a thunderous finish. I have always regarded him as the cleanest hitter of the football (to use an awkward analogy) in the modern era, when the ball connected to his feet, no goalkeeper could get near it. For a striker, his work rate and hassling was outstanding, the true example of Barca's philosophy of defending from the front.

Whatever his antics were off the pitch, and he has certainly never been the most mellow of characters, his professionalism was a joy to watch. It was an open secret that he and Ronaldinho never got along, but the telepathic understanding between them on the field made it all irrelevant. He was subjected to the some of the ugliest of racism football has seen and he soldiered through it. After he was put on the transfer list at the end of last season, he took it as a challenge and produced a string of brilliant performances in pre-season to convince Guardiola to keep him. And we all know how well that worked out.

Some will say that he has been disrespected by the club who ultimately used him as a makeweight in a transfer, and they will be right. Although he still leaves through the front door with his head held high, the feeling that he has been undervalued yet again cannot be shaken off. On the other hand, the post-2006 era has shown that there is a justification in radically changing the team to keep it fresh, and let's face it, Ibrahimovic is a phenomenal talent by his own right. At least Barca has not been stupid like Madrid to let one of their most influential players (Robinho) slip through in a similar makeweight saga without making sure that the other chap was actually coming.

Regardless Samuel Eto'o leaves a legend of F.C. Barcelona and there are more than a few misty eyes among cules due to his departure. So thank you for everything Samu, you have written yourself into Barca folklore, and may you achieve as much success in Inter, and wherever you go after that.

And welcome Ibra, you have a hell of an act to follow, hope you are ready for it.

Screw You Southampton

2009-07-12T07:24:00.000-07:00

So there I was playing FIFA Manager 09. I decided to pick Southampton, a team which in reality got relegated, and against all odds managed to make them win the Championship and get them promoted. No seriously, the way those eejits were playing for the first few games I had lost all hope and wondered if I survive relegation it will be enough. Somehow, I managed to develop tactics and make smart (or lucky) signings which suited the team and turned them around and brought them back to Premier League. Hell, I even beat Portsmouth (derby rivals, if you don't know) 3-0 in the FA Cup.

And while I was going through a whole bunch of stats of players to see who can reinforce the squad and getting ready for the next season...

They sacked me. For no good reason. Those bloody bastards.

Now it is October and they haven't managed a single win and are rock bottom and heading back into the Championship. So screw you, you deserve it!

As for me I was jobless for three months but then Burnley in the Championship signed me. They are an even worse headache than Southampton. I'm thinking of chucking it all and starting a new one with a lower level Premier League club like Wigan or something. This time I'll remove the 'sacking' option. Fricking sadistic game.

Buck Talk

2009-07-08T02:42:00.000-07:00

"What's that noise?"
"It's the wind. It is speaking to us."
"What's it saying?"
"I don't know. I don't speak wind."

Classic.

I love Buck. One of the best characters created in a while.

Everyone Is Unique, And The Music Never Dies

2009-06-27T23:28:00.000-07:00

I am honestly tired of sports journalism always comparing upcoming players to retired superstars or even current players - "The Next ________". God only knows how many Argentinian prodigies have been dubbed the next Maradona and pretty much all of them - Aimar, Saviola etc - have succumbed to the pressure. The only one currently who seems to be justifying the tag is Lionel Messi, and so what do the media do, they dub even younger Argentinian kids The Next Messi. Hell, Messi just turned 22, he still has whole career in front of him, you can't push him over the hill like that. It's like giving a Lifetime Achievement Award to Dev Patel because of his 'superlative' performance in Slumdog Millionaire. You're implying that Messi cannot or does not need to achieve anything anymore, which is so obviously untrue.

This trick is mostly used to sensationalise the headlines, they are hardly ever a reflection of the player's abilities anyway. The new Brazilian starlet Douglas Costa who Manchester United are pursuing was , till a year ago, The Next Ronaldinho, now he is The Next C. Ronaldo. Because Ronaldinho's stock isn't as high as it used to be. How do you justify that on the basis of merit? Both of them are players with different styles, so unless one is saying the kid has changed his game to become a mirror image of someone else now, it really doesn't hold water.

Don't be lazy , journalists. Say it as it is, describe what the kid is good at, don't just mention he is like so-and-so and leave us to draw our own inferences. Footballers are people, and no two people are exactly the same or have the same set of talents. Everyone is unique.

...

A heads up to Vh1's coverage of Michael Jackson's demise, they have paid tribute to him in the best way possible, which is screening marathons of his music videos. Not a discussion of his life, a scrutiny of his well documented fallacies, false platitudes of his talents; just a celebration of his music.

All those platitudes can still be seen in the ticker in the bottom where the condolence messages sent by people can be seen. Some of them seem sincere, most of them are people who had little idea who he was and just want their three seconds of fame, and a few of them are dowhright retarded. Like this - "MJ, we miss you sooo much, your music has died with you :("

The music never dies, you freak! The art is what makes the artist immortal. How many people actually remember or care about the person. Even if he was a douchebag (which I don't believe he was) his music is what will count ultimately.

He was never a favourite of mine, but I really like certain songs and I overall enjoy his music. There is a definite sincerity and energy in his songs and he was one of the best lyricists of his era. He single handedly made Pop music cool and dragged it to its zenith before, well, the 90s happened. So all said and done, he will be missed. But his music won't be, because it hasn't gone anywhere.

The Bus Conductor

2009-06-20T10:42:00.000-07:00

"Rashbehari! Kalighat! Minto Park! Sealdah!!" "The bus is empty, get on quickly", he bellowed.

A swarm of people hurriedly got into the bus and, mightily relieved to find empty seats, rushed to them before they filled up. The bus resumed its journey. It was office hours, it would be full to the rafters soon.

Then conductor continued shouting out the bus route as it moved towards its next stop. He got paid through a commission out of the revenue he collected through tickets everyday, so it was in his interests to get as many people on board as possible. He hated it. There was never a peaceful moment in the morning rush, people would jump in or out every two minutes and the bus stops were too closely spaced for him to be able to switch off for even a moment. Strangely, only when the bus was stuck in a traffic snarl would there be a respite.

The bus was overflowing now, and tempers within were rising. The passengers were all jampacked together and the heat wasn't helping matters. They constantly shouted at him exasperatedly asking him why was the bus stopped for so long. He turned his sweaty face away and ignored them; if they expected him to magically lift the bus high and glide it over the traffic across the road, they were sadly mistaken.

It was a typical day.

...

It was early evening and the sky finally crackled enough to force the heavens to open and let loose. Like all Kolkatans, he loved the rain, even though it meant a dip in business. The rain brought back memory of younger days when life was simple and more carefree. This one was fast becoming a storm, and a welcome relief.

The rain was pouring now and the wet wind rushing past his face was as refreshing as an oasis in the desert. Still, work was work, and he grudgingly ducked into the bus to sell the tickets. The worst place to be in the rain in this city is inside a bus. As soon as the rain comes down, the window shutters go up and the bus becomes a sweaty, claustrophobic little box. He braced himself for the inevitable barrage of complaints about the leaking roof. He shrugged and told them this bus is just six months old, it was the company's fault they bought a faulty one, he cannot do anything about it. It always amazed him how everyone always thinks the conductor is the tyrant overlord of the bus and the reason for all its problems. But then again, he thought, who else can they blame.

He finished his round and went back to his post by the door. For a job whose description includes traveling across the city, a conductor's life can be become lonely. He's shackled to a moving prison cell trudging back and forth the same route route over and over and none of the other inmates ever stay long enough to strike a friendship with.

...

He usually enjoyed the last shift of the day. It would be late in the night when even this crazy city would slow down. The weather would be more bearable and the passengers would be more tolerable, as the few who travel that late are too tired to indulge in their favourite pastime of conductor bashing.

He was doing a routine round of ticketing when he suddenly heard a voice in front of him utter a gasp of surprise followed by his name. He looked up, and the hand he was handing the ticket over to belonged to someone he had not seen for years, but had never forgotten. She was clearly pleased at the sudden meeting and eagerly asked him how he was, and why had he become a bus conductor. What answer could he give her? That a string of misfortunes had cost his family his entire wealth and ultimately his father his life, and as a result none of his dreams and plans which he used to narrate to her could ever be realised? No, that would be making excuses and he never made them. So he just smiled weakly at her and changed the subject by inquiring about herself. She probably got the hint and talked about her life, it was a happy one and she had much to tell him.

They were soon chatting about their school days and reminiscing those events which had seemed so important and those which had seemed irrelevant but were ultimately so much more influential in shaping their lives . Suddenly, the bus screeched to a halt and they realised with a start that her destination had come. She hurriedly wrote down her phone number on her ticket and pushed into into his hand, extracting a promise to call her. Then she gave him a quick hug and jumped off.

The bus started moving again as he looked back at her retreating form. There was a time when he had liked, more than liked her. He probably still did. Still, those days were long gone and he was happy than she was doing well. She would have never been this happy with him. He looked at the ticket in his hand for a few moments, then crumpled it and let it fall out of the bus.

He looked ahead as the bus sped past the closed shops under the dim streetlights. Then he looked up and saw that the stars were out. It was a beautiful night.

Top Ten Worst Tech Predictions Of All Time

2009-06-12T10:29:00.003-07:00

cogged from Reader's Digest

10. "X-rays will prove to be a hoax."

-Lord Kelvin, president of the UK's Royal Soiciety, 1883

9. "Spam will be solved."

-Bill Gates, 2004

8. "The Americans have need of the telephone, but we do not. We have plenty of messenger boys."

- Sir William Preece, chief engineer of the British Post Office, 1878

7. "Nobody would ever need more than 640 kb of memory on their personal computer."

-Bill Gates, 1981, allegedly

6. "We stand on the threshhold of rocket mail." (Brings me images of Wile E. Coyote delivering mail for some reason)

-US postmaster general Arthur Summerfield, 1969

5. "There will never be a bigger plane built."

-Boeing engineer, 1933, after the maiden flight of a ten-seater Boeing 247

4. TV won't last because people will "soon get tired of staring at a plywood box every night."

-Darryl Zanuck, 1946

3. "Nuclear powered vaccum cleaners will probably be a reality in ten years."

-Alex Lewyt, president of the Lewyt Corp vacuum company, 1955

2. "No need for a computer at home."

-Ken Olsen, founder of Digital equipment, 1977

and the winner is

1. "Next Christmas the iPod will be dead. finished, gone, kaput."

-Sir Alan Sugar, 2005

Football Gameplans

2009-06-06T07:36:00.000-07:00

I remember seeing these before the 2002 World Cup and falling out of my bed in laughter. They're still valid.

To put it in context, Netherlands didn't qualify for the tournament.

In Pep We Trust, In Barca We Believe

2009-05-31T11:05:00.000-07:00

In the end of the 2007-08 footballing season FC Barcelona lay bruised and battered, finishing 18 points behind rivals Real Madrid in the league and dumped out of the domestic and European Cup semifinals, the worst season in the Laporta era. A change was needed, the old guard had lost its hunger and had to go. So went Frank Rijkaard and club talismans Ronaldinho and Deco, who had dragged the club out of a six year title less streak and had made the club virtually invincible two years before under club president Joan Laporta, before it all fell apart.

And in stepped Josep 'Pep' Guardiola as the new head coach, the man given the task to be the new messiah, to remind the world what Barca was all about, to usher in a new age of greatness.

But was it really such a good idea? Guardiola was a mere 37 years old then, his only experience of coaching having been one season in the youth squad. Was it really the wisest move in giving one of the most high pressure footballing jobs in the world to such an inexperienced manager? Granted, Guardiola was a club legend, who grew up in La Masia - the youth academy, became the heartbeat of Johann Cruyff's Dream team and won a host of titles with the club. But such sentimentality does not necessarily automatically a good manager make, nor even an inspiring messiah; just ask Alan Shearer. What the hell was Laporta thinking?

The season gone by has shown the Laporta was completely in his senses, in fact the decision has proved so succesful that no Barca fan can scarcely believe what has happened. FC Barcelona has arguably had his finest season ever, winning the triplete, the Spanish treble of La Liga, Copa del Rey and the UEFA Champions League. In the process, it has played the most beautiful and dominating footaball in living memory, scoring over 150 goals in the process, which is averaging more than 2.5 goals a game. With a nucleus of home grown players, Guradiola instilled a fantastic work ethic in the team where losing possession of the ball was regarded as worthy of capital punishment, a never say die spirit which made the team fight till the final minute and score many late goals, not least in the Champions League semi final against Chelsea, and an undying commitment to playing the game beautifully and for the fans. There is only one way Barca knew how to win, by keeping to its philosophy of playing the beautiful game and trusting in itself.

This was Guardiola's greatest achievement this season, he had pretty much the same squad as the one which had performed so poorly last season, in fact some would argue that it was weaker after the departure of some of the stars. However, Guardiola instilled in them the beliefs which had become a part of the club since the Cruyff era and which the team had forgotten, and he did it with an uncompromising disciplinary hand, penalising players for any departure of rules. For this, the biggest credits of the triplete surely belong to him.

Now on to the players. The biggest strength of this team is that it played and won as a team, which is why so many players can claim to have got superstar status from this season. The first to come to mind is obviously Lionel Messi, the Ballon d' Or elect. 38 goals and 24 assists in the season tell its own story (to put things in perspective, Cristiano Ronaldo's recordbreaking last season had 42 goals and 8 assists) but not the complete one. Anyone who saw Messi play recognised that the little guy was having a celestial season above anyone else on the planet and it was simply a matter of formality to anoint him the next World Footballer of the Year.

Or was it? Barca and Spain's midfield heart, the duo of Xavi and Andres Iniesta, have a strong case to challenge Messi's rise to the throne. The midfield was the fulcrum of Barca's possession football, adn the true reason of its dominance, exhibited so brilliantly in the Champions League final, where Man Utd's midfield was as good as non existent. Xavi has grown into the finest playmaker in the world, and Iniesta the most terrorising. Together, they accounted for over 50 assists and 20 goals between them.

Then we have Samuel Eto'o, who showed once again how it is never feasible to write him off, and no matter what his antics are off the pitch, there is no one more professional on it. He was put on the transfer list by Guardiola but proved to him in pre-season why he should stay with a whole lot of brilliant performances. Guardiola relented into keeping him in the face of such desire, and the decision turned out to the best transfer of the season. Even though he was pipped to the Pichichi (top goalscorer) by Diego Forlan in the league in the last game, by being the first person with Forlan to reach the 30 goal mark in La Liga in 14 years showed his importance.

Ably making the third spike of Barca's attacking trident, Thierry Henry turned back the years and brought a grace to the team which typified his Arsenal days. Popping up with crucial goals in many matches, and capping it with one of his finest performances in the 6-2 mauling of Real Madrid in the Bernebau, his contribution to the season must not be underestimated.

Which brings me to the transfer of the season, the rightback Dani Alves. The only right back in the world who has the attacking instinct to stay more in the opposition's half than the opposition full backs but has the stamina and drive and fall back each time the other team attack and not leave the defence exposed. Alves was the troubleshooter in chief of the team, every time Barca was in trouble, there would be a tendency to pass the ball to him so he could make one of his trademark runs and crosses. He saved many games that way.

Puyol, Pique and Marquez had to shoulder the defensive responsiblities and they did it with aplomb. Particularly, club captain Puyol got back the form to go along with his grit which had defined him a few years ago and Pique, the surprise of the year, became a rock solid defender this season. With Yaya Toure providing invaluable cover in the midfield and being the best water carrier around, the Barca defence is in good hands, although much can still be imporved.

Last but not least, the supporting cast who all stepped up when they were needed, mostly (Hleb was an unfortunate exception). It's not the biggest squad, or the best, but it had the desire and the commitment to be the best, and therefore the club became the best again.

What next? Let us go do it all over again next season. There is still much improvement which can be made, and if they are made, the titles keep coming and the beautiful football keeps flowing, this class of Barca will have to be recognised as one fo the greatest teams ever.

Tribute to The No. 3

2009-05-23T13:57:00.000-07:00

The greatest football player I have had the privilege to see in my short lifetime.

For someone who has always enjoyed flowing attacking football more than anything else, it is strange that possibly the best player I have seen is a defender. But he is just that good.

Paolo Maldini, who else?

Paolo Maldini made his debut in AC Milan 25 years ago, four years before I was born. He is retiring next week, the year in which I stepped out of my teens. He has spent his entire career in the first team of one of the traditionally strongest European clubs and is one of the best defenders the game has ever seen. He has won just about every title he could have domestically with Milan multiple times, including the European Cup in three different decades. In 25 years he has been sent off just once to my knowledge, a testament to his discipline and skill. As a club legend he is second to none, even other contemporary one club players like Ryan Giggs, Raul and Puyol do not come close to commanding the respect this man does, from his club and the rest of the world, including his fiercest rivals. At the age of 41 he is still a first choice in Milan's defence, which, although does reflect poorly on the current geriatric state of the club, is nevertheless proof of his longevity. AC Milan declared several years ago that they will retire the No 3 jersey with him, but even they wouldn't have imagined in their wildest dreams that he would play on till age 41 with such consistency.

A gentleman off the pitch and an absolute machine on it, he made the successful transition from the best leftback in the world to the best centreback when his team needed it. One of the few proper defenders who could actually match anyone in the world for pace, an immaculate sense of positioning and tackling, and a fine passing vision combined to make him the perfect defender. The only blemish on his record is the lack of the World Cup; there is only one Italian I would have ever wanted to see lifting that trophy, and that's him. Unfortunately, he had retired from the international game when Italy won it in 2006.

Thanks for the memories.

El Clasico scoreline: 6-2

2009-05-02T14:14:00.000-07:00

The pasillo has been emphatically redeemed. The Liga is practically in the bag. I am the happiest person in the world.

Favourite Comic Book Quotes

2009-04-30T12:08:00.000-07:00

This is by no means an exhaustive list. Just some quotes I can remember off the top of my head.

The Devil made me do it.
Lucifer: I have never made one of them do anything. They live their own tiny lives. I do not live their lives for them.

- Sandman #23

Phantom Stranger: Can you travel into the future, John Constantine?
John Constantine: Only like everyone else boss. You know. One minute at a time.

- The Books of Magic #3

The Joker: If I am going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice. HA HA HA!!...

- Batman: The Killing Joke

Calvin: The Horrendous Space Kablooie!

- Calvin & Hobbes

Ogami Itto: Tsuwabuki some call it. The only flower to bloom in winter snows. The world all around it is in winter, frigid and cold. But yet it flowers with all its might, this Tsuwa-no-hana. (Note: The analogy is to a prostitute)

-Lone Wolf and Cub: Chapter 14 (Winter Flower)

Fone Bone: Stupid, Stupid Rat Creatures!

- Bone

Batman: I keep this city safe, even if it is safer by just one person. And I do not ever give in or give up.

- Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader: Part 2
(Detective Comics #853)

Dandele: There is no goodbye, Chunky Rice.

- Goodbye, Chunky Rice

The Beautiful Game

2009-04-24T09:19:00.000-07:00

Football season is here in NLS again and I've spent the last few days playing and building up stamina for the tournament. It's been lovely to feel the touch of a football on my feet again and horrific to find out that I have lost said touch. The recent rain is only helping matters; softens the ground and brings back nostalgic school days of playing football in the mud, there is really no better weather to play the game than a stormy wind and rain.

I would love to write pages on Barca's performances this season, but until it is over I don't want to say anything and jinx my team. Still, regardless of how many trophies we get or don't get, I have never been more proud of supporting this club in ten years of being a cule. I got interested in the club after playing FIFA '98; shallow reason to start following a club, I know, but one decision which has worked out well, methinks.

Related: We are apparently going for an ambitious 4-3-2-1 Barca style formation in the tournament. I like it. For the record, I'll probably be playing in right central midfield.

Where There is a Will...

2009-04-20T14:02:00.000-07:00

The last fiery rays were clinging to the sky, sending bright red streaks across the horizon in a vain attempt to hang on. The waves crashed against the shore with escalating ferocity as the tide increased by the minute. Each time the beach broke a wave another smashed into it. Slowly the water began creeping upward, inch by inch.

He sat on a rock, legs dangling, and watched all of this. His life had been miserable for a long time, today it had reached its climax. His boss had called him and handed him the pink slip, saying that the orders from above were to 'downsize' the company branch and they had unfortunately named him among the people to be fired. He said nothing and impassively walked away. He knew that no one else had been fired and that he had been chucked out so that the boss's son could join the company. He went straight to the shore, probably entertaining thoughts of drowning and ending his existence there and then.

Now he watched the ocean slowly winning its battle of ground supremacy. A crab scuttled away to higher ground to avoid the sea but was caught in a wave and got pulled back. It waited until the wave had receded and then made a dash for dry land, This time it succeeded, the waves only managing to wash away its trail.

A seagull suddenly dropped out of the sky and dived sharply into the sea, hunting for fishes. it came up a few seconds later, its beak empty. Undeterred, it started circling the area, its eyes focused downwards. In its third attempt, the seagull succeeded and the man watched the fish wriggling in its beak, slowly getting gulped down the seagull's throat.

The next time the seagull dived down, it came up with another fish, but this time the fish twisted and turned with all its might, finally managing to break its hold and flopped back into the sea.

He saw all this and noticed that Nature never gave up. The waves, the land, the crab, the seagull, the fish - all ceaselessly trying to achieve what they set out to do. Even if they did not succeed, they knew that if they kept fighting they would get another opportunity, and that was enough. He decided that he would also keep trying. He never liked his job anyway, so it was no big loss. He now had the chance to start all over again and was not going to let go of the chance. He silently thanked Nature, just as Nature had silently taught him a valuable lesson, and walked off with a spring in his step.

The sun finally set, but it set with dignity and a flaming farewell, as if it knew it was going to rise again at dawn and rule over the sky yet again.

This is an exact reproduction of a piece which was written sometime in Class XII. It started out as a random description writing exercise to pass time in a free period (hence the first paragraph) and developed into a proper prose piece. I didn't think too much of it right then, it was just another random piece of fiction I had come up with, and with a moral to boot. However, I found myself coming back to it in the next few weeks, mostly just reading it. I realised that I had written it subconsciously at some level to help me get through a really tough period. I had rarely showed such optimism in any of my stories, especially the ones I had written around the time. And it did give me the strength to go through a pretty hard time. It's not one of my best fiction pieces, the style is more juvenile than what I usually wrote, but it is very important to me and acted as a tremendous support. It also happens to be one of the very few times a written piece of mine got published (school magazine), so in that sense I'm pretty proud of it. I have reproduced it in a blogpost to remind me to always keep my chin up, and also as a promise to myself that I will get back to prose writing in the vacations, something which is long overdue.

Chillin'

2009-04-09T14:27:00.000-07:00

There is something cathartic about a terrace jam session under the full moon in the first breezy night in ages. After one has spent four days cooped up in one's hotbox of a room, stepping out only for food.

I know what I missed the most during my project imposed exile.

Of Pachyderm Blessings, Queen's Baths and Relaxing Jam Sessions: Hampi Travelogues Day II

2009-04-03T10:24:00.000-07:00

Day II saw us arise later than we had planned, but not by much. I woke up the first and set off on a solo stroll up and down the main (well, only) road of the town with my newest toy - the music player. It's always interesting to see and hear a place come to life; the shops open, the thoroughfare begins to get busy and sundry early morning noises and smells fill the air. The walk gave me some useful 'me time' as well. I also found out that Elton John's 'Circle of Life' is an excellent early morning song.

After my walk was done, I came back and screamed at the other two to wake them up. It freaked poor Abu out, he's not used to such tactics. But it had its effect, so what the hell. We trotted to the river and bathed and then had breakfast in an 'Italian Bakery' which claimed to have Al Capone pizza from the board outside the shop. Whether that is true or not, I did have the best ever Spanish omelette I have ever had there. It beats Gokarna's Namaste Cafe hollow. And the homemade bread was excellent as well. Definitely my best meal of the trip.

Now we were raring to do some sightseeing. We decided to start with the main temple around which the town is built. As far as I could tell, it was the only temple from that era still in use. It is the focal point of the Hampi rath festival which I gathered to be the highlight of the year. It is a pretty big temple and I have always found South Indian medieval architecture interesting as I haven't been exposed to it much in my travels. We took a tour of the temple and noticed a bedecked elephant with a crowd mulling about it. Closer inspection revealed that the elephant was trained to take money from the devotee's hands with its trunk, give it to the mahout, and then bless the devotee by putting its trunk over his head. It was a pretty unique experience for me, but since I have read about how the elephants in India are trained through torture, also a slightly jarring one.

We had to hire an auto to visit the ruins as they were too spread apart. The tour around Hampi ruins took about three hours. There were the customary remains of a kingdom, broken down fortresses, a multitude of temples (most of which had their idols ransacked), the public places etc. The Hampi architecture is pretty beautiful, one could recognise the fusion of Indian and Persian styles within the South Indian sensibilities and this amalgam had created a fairly unique style all for its own. They are also durable. The amount of detail in the carvings and statues still remaining after 600 years is remarkable. The Mughal ruins in North India are pretty eroded and run down in comparison, even though they are from a later era. Goo was highly anticipating the visit to the 'Queen's Bath' ever since he had seen it in the map (naturally), but it turned to be quite a downer; a simple squarish building with a big empty bath and the customary carvings on the wall. I don't know whether Goo actually expected to find women still bathing there but he looked highly disappointed at seeing it.

By the time the tour ended we had been baked by the sun. All the pansies who are complaining about the Bangalore sun should go to the Deccan plateau for a couple of days right now. They'll stop complaining. We decided to go relax at the coolest near place we knew, Mango Tree restaurant and chill there till evening. We borrowed a guitar from a German tourist and Abu played, and Goo and me sang softly, just like our terrace jam sessions (except for the 'softly' part). It was a most relaxing time. The guitar's owner was clearly impressed by Abu's wizardry with it and kept giving furtive glances at his direction. Finally she mustered up the courage to come on over and asked him to teach the chords for 'Brain Damage'. A fairly stoned Abu was quite surprised by this but he took it in his stride and began to teach her. She actually picked it up quickly enough and was playing it decently and it sounded nice.. until she started to sing. Her voice was weirdly awful and monotonous (although I shouldn't be one to talk about godawful voices here). She was good company otherwise though and we also befriended a group of British hippies there. Once you got past the annoying accent, they were quite nice as well.

We came back and did our shopping for the various gifts etc we had to give out. Goo took a long time because he was suddenly gripped with an indecision mania at the wrong time. Then we had an hour or so till sunset before we headed back to Hospet. We decided to go back where we had started the trip, up the rocks where we had seen the sunrise. We found a good spot overlooking the town, recollected the trip, talked about how if some other people were there it would have been so much better, but then again we could have never done so much with a big group, and generally batted the breeze.

And that's how our Hampi trip ended. It was a beautiful experience.

Of Dawn Treks, Section 3 and a Little Slice of Paradise: Hampi Travelogues Day I

2009-03-30T08:23:00.000-07:00

Every blog once in a while always turns into a boring travelogue. This is it for mine.

On what was mostly a whim and a fancy, and a burning desire to temporarily leave law school environs, Goo, self and Abu caught a bus and landed in Hampi, the site of arguably the only proper kingdom Karnataka can boast of. As we discovered, it's a pretty hippie place as well. I was admittedly the sober third wheel of the little group but that didn't detract from my having a good time.

We came to the town at the early hours of six a.m. and the auto driver was good enough to actually show us a decent, cheap place to stay. After dumping our luggage, we set out on an early morning trek to check the place out. We climbed up what looked like an unfinished path up the mountain and were treated to a glorious view of the early morning sun from the top overlooking some temple complex. The trip was off to good start. We also first encountered the signs which said that that particular construction was protected by Section 3 of the Karnataka Archaeological (something something) Act. These signs had mushroomed everywhere and had been slapped on everything, over the course of our trip we found them stuck on random rocks as wells. We don't know why, but we found this quite amusing.

Then we had an average breakfast (charitably speaking - it was our only below par meal on the trip) and went to the river. The other two bathed in the river while I guarded the luggage. I had already taken a bath so it wasn't a big deal. Then we all went into iguana mode, found a nice rock (the whole area is unbelievably rocky) with a good view of the river and the town and smoked (well, they smoked, I just threw sand at passing dogs and scared the hell out of them.) Then we found a much better place called 'Mango Tree' for another round of breakfast. It was a gorgeously shady open air place where you could just lean back against the slanted walls and relax. Which is what we did. The food was good too.

All this happened before my batch started class.

Now comes the real part of the day's events. The time had come to pass when Goo and Abu desperately needed to score. Their junkie radar told them that the stuff would be found across the river. So we crossed it. Then a little kid in an auto blasted us when we asked him where it could be found (that was one of their plans, to ask a young auto driver. I didn't realsie they were desperate enough to ask a kid). The kid ended his rant with the firm words of "Follow the Road, and don't look back". Of course, he was admonishing us, but it proved to be very sound advice. Having nothing whatsoever to go upon, we followed the road. Every once in a while we would question the sanity of going blindly into nowhere, but I guess the heat had made us kinda insane.

After walking forever, we did manage to score, thanks to directions given by a foreign wanderer with a straw hat and a stick. Then we went back to this place called 'Arba Mistika' which we had stumbled upon while we were searching.

It was a little oasis in the middle of nowhere. Run by a young guy in dreadlocks, it was home to a whole bunch of hippies, and the booze and narcotics was flowing like water. There was a central tent which was magically cool within the unbearable heat and nice, relaxing, trippy music was playing. Mattresses around low lying tables completed the setup.

The guys exchanged their stuff with the other hippies and we soon made friends. There was a German sadhu chap called Marcos, a Dutch kurta wearing fellow named Ramko and who preferred to be addressed as Ram, an Argentinian theatre chick whose name I've forgotten and some others. The others were happy with their grass and hash, I was happy with my beer and chicken (the rest of the town's places were vegetarian except for eggs :|) and my naps. We chilled there till evening and what a glorious few hours they were. Even till the next day Goo kept asking Abu whether they didn't imagine the place up in some stony haze and I had to assure them that they didn't.

As the sun fell we regretfully headed back to our side of the river and crashed in our room. Which was a good thing because the other two were really tired and high still and they needed some sleep. We woke up and went to this Tibetan run establishment for dinner. I had excellent thukpa for the first time after Gokarna but the highlight was a dessert dish called 'Hello to the Queen' which Goo ordered. It had molten chocolate, biscuits, fried bananas topped off with a scoop of icecream and was excellent. The ambience was dim and serene. Another good spot discovered.

We came back and slept soundly. And thus our first day was done.

Highlight of the Day: Arba Mistika, by far.

Why Oh Why did the Ducks Cross the Road?

2009-03-20T11:33:00.000-07:00

This is so f*cked up. I personally believe that the pictures lie but that's mostly for the sake of my sanity.

A Day Older than Yesterday, 7 Years after Childhood

2009-03-18T11:10:00.000-07:00

So I quietly left my teens today, not much of a choice when mostly everyone I know is studying for repeats. Still, I suppose it was the best way to have spent this Birthday, gave me time to contemplate. I treated myself to a nice Peking lunch, slept through the afternoon, finished some more of that blasted placement diary and then ended it with an absolute mad session of PES with Nikki and Jannu with three controllers, so we would play two against one.. and the team with two players would typically have no coordination and be hilariously all over the place.

Do I feel any different? No, not really. I'm just a day older than I was yesterday and that's obviously not a life changing duration, even if it is a symbolically important day. But I did leave my teens behind, and although that's more symbolic than anything, it got me thinking of seven years ago when I stopped being a child and became a teenager. Life has certainly changed since then, I don't have to wear a uniform anymore, I see things less in black and white than I did, I have to shave regularly, and a million of other things. I am, what is called, becoming mature. Those days in Rajasthan, Delhi, and even Kolkata are gone.

What I think about is whether my growing up has amounted to this?

Have I left that child behind? I hope not. I hope that no matter how ripe an age I grow up to be, there is always some of the child and of the teen in me, I really, really do. For the record, I comfortably believe that I still have the kid who went to seven schools in me and gives me good counsel when I need him. A toast then to the continuing of this relationship. Here's to me and me.

P.S. thanks for the wishes everyone :)

Rants, News and some 'Tagging'

2009-03-15T03:20:00.001-07:00

Intolerance reached a new level of absurdity when protesters prevented the construction of a Charlie Chaplin statue in Udupi on the grounds that he is a Christian... and therefore, our Hindu sensibilities will be offended when we see that famous moustache and bowler hat mocking us from their high pedestal. Some of us will probably succumb to depression and go drown ourselves on seeing that blasphemic sight.

chills my living bones

This is a Cracked.com article waiting to happen. How can anyone take this seriously? Thankfully, no one really has, not even Muthalik, who has condenscendingly rubbished it saying that Chaplin was never projected as a Chritian and therefore, everyone should view him as an artiste. Muthalik's comment has been tagged as 'Surprise of the Day' by Sunday Times, a nicely not-so-subtle dig on our misogynist crusader.

On a slightly related note, one of my favourite sad quotes belongs to this ultimate funnyman, more so because I have done it: "I always like to walk in the rain as no one can see me crying."

.....

The first week of the trimester has rumbled by and with the varying and, so far, mostly chilled out schedule we have had, it actually feels like we're in one of those filmi colleges where no one ever studies. It's not going to last, already the shadow of repeats and placement diary has put brakes to it, but it was nice all the same. And unlike most other pseudos, I had openly admitted that I had become restless sitting at home and was really looking forward to law school reopening. It's amazing how many people have indicated the same after a little prodding. If only we didn't cling to this falsely 'cool' sense of belief that law school is this unbearable hellhole where every minute is torture, then we could really enjoy our last really free years before career drudgery consumes our souls.

.....

Couple of blogs you can visit if you are not doing anything.

Firstly, this crazy one. It's by Dan Piraro who is the creator of the Bizarro syndicated comic strip. It's an absolutely fantastic read. The man's clever and hilarious, the best combination.

Then there is Neil Gaiman' blog. You probably already knew about it but what the heck.

Tribute to Jasper and Jinx (and a related rant)

2009-03-02T07:05:00.000-08:00

Come on, you know who Jasper and Jinx are. Don't tell me you haven't heard of them. I'll bet my non existent million bucks that you have grown up with them. No? Well, let's see here. Jasper and Jinx were the original names given to these guys.

I'm glad they changed the names.

This post is a result of some hardcore television watching I have done post intership. This meant that most of the time I have been watching Tom and Jerry because, well, it is shown in Cartoon Network half the time (I will return to this). Tom and Jerry (along with eggs) were my first and most enduring obsession. I have seen all episodes at least five hundred times each by now (this is not an exaggeration) and I think the original Hanna/Barbera shorts are the best cartoons ever created. The obvious care in detail in animation and background score has never been replicated, fifty years after the shorts ended. It's also the only cartoon I know which everyone I know likes, including people who say that cartoons are for kids. I think I saw about 20 today itself at various times. The Chuck Jones cartoons (recognisable from the title sequence where Tom meows after the lion's roar) are also decent but cannot compare to the Hanna/Barbera ones. In fact, they resemble the 'Looney Tunes' and mostly Roadrunner gags are reused and the sound is nowhere near as creative, so some of the magic is lost. Still they are watchable. But the Gene Deitch shorts, recognisable by their absolute crappiness, should have been consigned to a forgotten history instead of being rerun along with the more brilliant cartoons. My two favourite Tom and Jerry shorts are The Yankee Doodle Mouse and The Cat Concerto.

Now to my short rant. It's concerning the quality of cartoons in Indian television today, which is absolutely shocking. It's amazing that when I was a single digit age kid, there was no dedicated kid's channel (or maybe Cartoon Network had just come in), and yet the quality of cartoons shown in DD Metro and Star and Zee and Sony were far superior to the crap being shoved down our throat here.

I mean let's take one channel here - Nickelodeon. When it first came in we had the Nicktoons, some of which were brilliant and all of which were watchable and outstandingly funny kid's shows like Kenan and Kel. Now, other than Spongebob Squarepants, we have mindnumbing anime like Ninja Hattori on offer. Why? Just because there is an anime rage sweeping the world, you'll pick out the worst the genre has to offer and show them? How does that make sense. Nickelodeon had a decent animation studio, what the hell happened?

Then there is Cartoon Network. When I was growing up, we had the Holy Trinity of Cartoon Cartoons, Power Zone and Hanna-Barbera, which, together with Tom and Jerry, had developed an outrageous monopoly of the best cartoons any Indian child generation has seen. Then came Pokemon. Now it isn't a bad cartoon. Having one anime like Pokemon gives good variety. But if you replace all that made your channel good with ten different rip-offs of Pokemon, you'll start to suck. They never have recovered and the fact that half their time slots these days are filled by Tom and Jerry, proving that it is the only thing which really sells anymore, shows how crappy they've become.

Even Animax, when it started out had some real good animes to offer - Samurai X, Get-Backers, Inuyasha etc. Even the lighthearted animes were good to watch. Now, I really can't see anything on that channel these days, it's just bad.

Kid's television is generally dumber these days. Do they not trust the mental faculties of kids anymore. Because I could definitely understand Swat Kats and Batman and Flintstones ten years back. The level of the show didn't need to be of that of Chhota Bheem for me. They should really give kids more credit.

This is one time where competition has clearly brought down the standards, instead of raising the bar as our economists would have us believe should happen. Apart from Tom and Jerry, the only show I really like is Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends. This Tiny TV show from Pogo is smarter than Ben 10.

Bleh!

Bawww Moments in Comics

2009-02-26T10:08:00.000-08:00

Comics are supposed to be funny and happy, right? Well, that ship sailed away a long way back. Ever since Eisner wrote his wonderful A Contract With God, sequential art storytelling has deserved to be as highly respected in its maturity as any other form of literature. But then this post is not me justifying why I love comics.

Over the last few years, I've read thousands of comics, of all genres. Some which make me laugh, some which depress the hell out of me, some which are epic and others are brilliant in their dealing with mundane subjects. Every so often, I've come across a point in a comic where something really upsetting happens and which has been so beautifully portrayed that I will never forget it. It is not necessarily very important to the story. It is certainly not an aspect unique to comics, it is a challenge in any art form to memorably show any poignant moment so that it does not get relegated to any of the deaths and losses and sadness which our desentitised brains have seen over the years. But I believe a comic has the unique capability of juxtaposing the written word/dialogue with the image made exactly the way the creator wants it and such that both do not trample on each other.

So what makes such a Bawww moment successfully rendered. The test, to me, is that you should remember it long after you have read it, and indeed, make you want to read it again and again, and curse it under your breath for every single time. It should make you say 'this is not happening' even though you fully expected it to happen and should be incomprehensibly saddening when it is unexpected. It should not be depressing and send you into a black mood. Depression is never beautiful, and these moments are beautiful. This is why nothing from Maus is in the following list, although Maus has some of the saddest moments in fiction. Maus is just too depressing, there's no beauty to appreciate in it.

So here's a list of Bawww moments in comics which have truly hit me when I read them, in no particular order. Most of them are deaths, but I guess that is natural. For the record, each of these comics series/titles are excellent reads and I would recommmend them to anyone (unless you hate comics, but then you have probably stopped reading this anyway). The list has spoilers, so if you are interested in the comic, you may want to skip it.

Y-The Last Man: Okay, I lied when I said this list is in no particular order. There is one scene which is unquestionably on the top and hit me the most and deserves to be first. If I had read it ten years ago, I would have probably cried. It's in the last issue, the epilogue, the scene where the capuchin pet Ampersand dies.

Sandman: This had to be there somewhere, right. Well, yes and no. I'm not talking about Morpheus' death. Not even any other death in The Kindly Ones storyline, most of which were, I think, more heartbreaking than the big one. This scene is in issue #46 in the Brief Lives storyline, the one where the shriveled, weak Bast wakes up from Morpheus' dream conversation. That image was completely unexpected to me, and although it is a footnote in the series, I think it is one of the most powerfully written parts of Sandman.

All-Star Superman: If you have read it, this one is pretty easy. It's Pa Kent's death in issue #7 and Superman's sudden realisation from somewhere far away that he can't hear his heartbeat anymore.

Identity Crisis: The beginning of issue #6, when Robin discovers his father's body, and Batman holds him for comfort. Of all the deaths in the Bat-verse over the years, this one is probably the best written.

Pride of Baghdad: The last scene, when the lions are killed.

Silver Surfer - Requiem: The end where Galactus comes to mourn the impending death of his one-time faithful servant, Silver Surfer. If you have the minimum idea of who Galactus is in the Marvel Universe, then you can guess how this reaction is supremely poignant, especially with the near perfect dialogues which were written here.

Lone Wolf and Cub: Ogami Itto's death. Anyone who's read the comic will understand that the complete abruptness of the ending completely throws the reader off before the realisation of what happened hits. I couldn't sleep the night after I had finished it.

There are more, but I guess these are the biggest bawww moments in comics to me.

Taking Stock

2009-02-21T10:37:00.000-08:00

Having nothing better to do on a Saturday before the football watching started, I decided to look into my Dad's liquor display cabinet to see what his stock of fire-water consists of; since, well, I'll probably be inheriting it now that he doesn't drink anything other than wine anymore. This does not include whatever he has stashed away in various trunks so it's by no means comprehensive.

1 bottle of McDowell's Celebration rum
3 bottles of Golden Eagle lager beer
half a bottle of Blender's Pride whiskey
nearly empty bottle of Seagram's 100 Pipers
2 bottle of Solan No 1 whiskey (shit, he used to drink this years ago. How does he still have them?)
1 bottle of Blue Riband gin
1 bottle of Silver Anchor gin
1 bottle of Genesis whiskey
half a bottle of Golconda brandy

Now for the really good stuff
1 bottle of Marquis de Pompadour champagne (we have champagne in the house??! Damn)
1 bottle of Old Smuggler's scotch
1 bottle of Chivas Regal
1 bottle of Johnnie Walker's Red Label
1 bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label
1 bottle of Justerini and Brook's (J&B) whiskey - Rare blend

hmm, not bad at all.

I have to check my (maternal) grandfather's fabled loft one day. It supposedly has stuff my generation hasn't been heard about and most people would give up an eye and a hand for them. What's common between my Dad and Grandad, you ask? They were both in the Army.

Times Gone By

2009-02-17T09:43:00.000-08:00

Have been feeling very nostalgic lately, I do get into these moods now and then. Thankfully, this time it's not been about bad memories, for the most part. Mostly the happier times have come back, I guess I needed to cheer myself up, been feeling unaccountably down for a while now. But the remembered memories have been very varied, stretching over years and places, and about completely different things, things I thought I had forgotten and things which I can never forget. Don't remember when was the last time I flashed my life back so much.

Let's see, in the past few days I have recollected...

The adda outside Amartya Sir's (Maths tuition) classroom before the gates were opened. Good, fun times with certain friends I never met anywhere else and probably never will.

Screaming silently and going mad when Juliano Belletti scored the winner for Barca in the 2006 Champions League final. The silent part was because my Dad had made an exception and let me watch the match which was then in his bedroom in mute and I couldn't wake him.

The time, in class VI when I moved to a new colony in Delhi and a school friend introduced me to the cricket playing kids. Somehow the team selection was poor and I was the only one in my team who considered himself to be a bowler (that's a rarity in kids). So even though I was a newbie, I got the first over.
I took four wickets in my first five balls. If there ever was a fairytale debut, this was it.

The time when we were playing football after school in DBPC (class XI, I think) and I scored my best goal ever. I went to receive the throw in well within my own half. The throw was poor and onto my head, with two opponents guarding me. I improvised a turn with a short seal dribble and left them behind. Looked up and saw no teammate in front of me to pass to. So I took off, beat four defenders and then the keeper with a neat finish. It's one of those things which I can unashamedly boast about, and do. As soon as the ball touched my head I got the feeling that nothing can go wrong, I know exactly what to do. Guess other footballers will know what I'm talking about. Even when I grow old and start losing my memory, I have no doubt the memory of that feeling is one I will hang on to till the end. For the record, my favourite part of the move was the finish, although most people remember the head dribble.

Someone called Mehtab Samra. I have met him once in the last 12 years and have no contact with him. Yet, I consider him to be one of the best friends I ever made (and I have made quite a few). We were inseparable. In fact, in school we talked so much, they couldn't shut us up just by ordering us to sit in sifferent desks. They had to put us in different classrooms. Wonder what he's up to now.

The time I got electrocuted by a lamp-post. I was stupidly swinging around it and my hand went inside the open fusebox.

Various parts of the Rajasthan trip we took in 1995. It's part of my earliest clear memories.

Various parts of the Himachal trip we took in 2000. When we were staying in Manali, my Dad had the bright idea to take a walk in the night. We started without a torch and walked till we couldn't see anything and then we walked some more before common sense forced us to turn back. Next morning we retraced our steps and realised we had come as close as 3 feet from the bank of River Beas which ran next to where we were staying. It wasn't one of the wimpy calm rivers either, it was a mountain river and was frigging fast and rocky and dangerous. We had nearly died without knowing it.

Cinna's house, and the time when we made that satellite dish thingie for the science exhibition. We called it a PSCD unit; P-something Sound Collecting Dish. Spending those couple of days i making it is one of the most fun times I ever had.

The time, the only time, I flunked Maths, in class IX. I flunked because I got suddenly freaked out before the exam and the exam went badly. I resolved to never get scared for any exam ever again. I haven't yet. Touchwood.

The time when I was forced to debate in school by the blasted teacher because the chap didn't turn and I was the blasted VP of the House, on the day of the debate when the motions had been released a few days back. My knees were knocking badly behind the podium while I gave my speech; public speaking is not my thing. Still, I came 6th out of 16, that's not so bad.

Remembered a few other things too, but the post is too long already. I'll leave that for next time. If you are thinking why there are no law school memories on the list, it's because law school is very much the current phase of my life, I have nothing to feel nostalgic about. It's not yet a time gone by.

Neil Gaiman and Batman

2009-02-13T09:58:00.000-08:00

I've been waiting for this comic since news of it was released months back - Gaiman writing a two parter Batman story. My favourite comic book writer on my favourite character (Yes, I'm an unabashed Batfan), it was a match made in fanboy heaven. The details of the story were kept under wraps and I'm not in the habit of reading previews, so when the first part of 'Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader?' released a couple of days back, I was more or less going into it with a blank mind. All I knew was that it would somehow tie-in with the current situation of Batman in DC Comics, which is that Bruce Wayne has, let's say, vanished (this is a huge oversimplification), and everyone else thinks he's dead.

It's every bit as good as I hoped for. Though it not clear whether the story is in continuity, it really doesn't matter, the focus is clearly on paying a tribute to the character and all the creators across decades who have made the Bat universe memorable.

*SPOILERS*
The setting is the wake of Batman. His body is lying peacefully in an open caskets and all his villains and friends are attending it. It's the kind of surreal premise which only Gaiman can pull off without confusing the hell out of the reader (well, Morrison too, when he feels like it). There's a couple of conflicting stories which come up regarding how Batman died and in these stories we see Gaiman's brilliance.

There are constant homages in the issue to the art and writing styles of the different eras of Batman (this issue focuses mostly till the 60s so I guess the rest will be seen in the second issue), even a little nod to the Adam West Batman and we see highly creative alternate realities which could have been. Like Alfred's story in which he says that all the colourful, memorable Batman villains were in reality Alfred and his stage friends (with Alfred as the Joker) who purposefully used outlandish gimmicks, an idea Alfred came up with to keep Bruce happy and not get too tied down by the depressing reality of ordinary crime.

In the background (within captions), is Bruce Wayne observing all this with a mysterious woman who may or may not be Death, and Bruce has no idea what the hell is happening here. The woman does and challenges Bruce to figure out what's going on in the cliff hanger.

The issue is a brilliant tribute to the icon of Batman. Gaiman has successfully extracted the most basic elements from the mythos and weaved it in a highly surrealist manner. Andy Kubert's art is superb, some of the best I've seen from him. Once can see here why the Kubert school and family is so highly rated. Their art may not be the most beautiful, but it is the most crisp and their sense of storytelling is second to none, specially in superhero stuff.

Can't wait for the second issue.

Oh, Robert Miles' 'Dream' started playing on shuffle while I was typing this post. Morpheus approves

Some Meanings of Liff

2009-02-11T09:34:00.002-08:00

I'm a huge, huge fan of Douglas Noel Adams. I think he's the cleverest person to have walked the Earth in the last century.

So anyway, I was going through 'The Meaning of Liff'' again. For the uninitiated, its his made up dictionary on facts we all recognise but never bothered to put names to them. This gives an odd sense of familiarity to the reading and a strange realisation of those facts which we never thought about before. And then there are those which are simply outrageous and which only DNA can pull off. They're all brilliant. Here are some, picked completely at random.

HATHERSAGE (n.)

The tiny snippets of beard which coat the inside of a washbasin after
shaving in it.

BANFF

Pertaining to, or descriptive of, that kind of facial expression which
is impossible to achieve except when having a passport photograph taken.

DULEEK (n.)

Sudden realisation, as you lie in bed waiting for the alarm to go off,
that it should have gone off an hour ago.
(This one's painfully true for me. Lawschoolites will know what I'm talking about)

GILDERSOME (adj.)

Descriptive of a joke someone tells you which starts well, but which
becomes so embellished in the telling that you start to weary of it after
scarely half an hour.

GREAT WAKERING (participal vb.)

Panic which sets in when you badly need to go to the lavatory and
cannot make up your mind about what book or magazine to take with you.

MALIBU (n.)

The height by which the top of a wave exceeds the height to which you
have rolled up your trousers.

MOTSPUR (n.)

The fourth wheel of a supermarket trolley which looks identical to the
other tree but renders the trolley completely uncontrollable.

PELUTHO (n.)

A South American ball game. The balls are whacked against a brick wall
with a stout wooden bat until the prisoner confesses.

PLEELEY (adj.)

Descriptive of a drunk person's attempt to be endearing.

RAMSGATE (n.)

All institutional buildings must, by law, contain at least twenty
remsgates. These are doors which open the opposite way to the one you
expect.

SOTTERLEY (n,)

Uncovered bit between two shops with awnings, which you have to cross
when it's raining.

THRUPP (vb.)

To hold a ruler on one end on a desk and make the other end go
bbddbbddbbrrbrrrrddrr.
(so many memories come back with this one)

What is Freedom?

2009-02-10T09:23:00.000-08:00

I've been pondering on this a while now. What is it really like to be completely free? None of us are.

There are always restrictions. Some say it is about equal opportunity. But to truly say there is equal opportunity you have to say that both of them have the equal capability to take it. Do any two people have that?

Others say it is about freedom of choice. Nobody ever has full freedom to choose. I cannot leave college if I wanted to, the repurcussions on my family will be too severe. Or is it that I chose to care about what happened to my family and which have influenced my decisions. Certainly there have been several points in my life where I've been tempted to chuck it all (and by all I mean all), what has held me back each time?

Society will always have rules and restrictions. Does this mean to be completely free one has to be outside the society? It seems to be so, then all of us hungry for freedom should simply leave society. Certainly this has been tried many times, but how many have succeeded. Where are the San Francisco hippies of the 60s, they're living sedate little suburban family lives or running a corporation or whatever. They are back in the society.

So what does this mean. I think it means that we never truly want complete freedom because the struggle for it brings the biggest fear there is - fear of the unknown. We don't know what we would get if we get what we wish for. So we rebel a bit and then join the mainstream, or our rebellion becomes the mainstream and then changes face completely. Restrictions are our security blanket and we're all Linuses who are scared to get rid of it. But he did it in the end, maybe the rest of us will take the cue someday, then again, maybe it's not such a good idea.

I was thinking of all this yesterday night when this song of Beatles (who else) started playing. I think it explains the struggle for freedom better than I ever could.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird fly Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Wrong Number

2009-02-09T08:29:00.000-08:00

True story.

This happened today at my internship. Somebody called the number in the office room where is also the little table which is the internship workspace and one of the firm's employees picked it up. It was a wrong number which he duly informed the woman on the other side and hung up. Five seconds later the phone rang again. He picked it and hung up immediately to convey to the thick-headed caller that she had called the same number again.

Well, ten seconds later the phone inevitably rang again. Now our man got pissed. Us lowly interns looked over amusingly to see how he'll tackle it. He picked it up, listened and said (this loses some of its charm when translated from Bengali though), "Yes, Madam is in, I'll just call her." Then he kept her on hold phone for about ten seconds.

Finally he picked it up again and said, "I'm sorry, Madam is not here. She's gone out on a date with her boyfriend." Clearly the caller was taken aback because he had to repeat what he said to assure her that she had heard right. "Her mobile number, let's see, its 9836652235."... "Yes, yes that's it. But do not disturb her too much, she's on a private outing."... "My name? I'm Arindam" (he's not) and then he hung up for the woman and let her loose to harangue someone else. It was really a show of brilliant acting since he pulled it off impromptu with a completely straight face. By the end of it we were in splits.

Who knows, maybe the woman got our number the same way we gave her the next one, considering she was so adamant in believing it was the right number. If I were Douglas Adams I could have successfully spun out a theory of how the woman may be trying to call Madam for years now, only to be shunted from number to number, and ending up as the telephonic equivalent of some unsuccessful bounty hunter. Meanwhile, as a sub plot, Madam would be married and having her third kid by next month. But since I'm not and such literary talents are beyond me, I'll leave it here.

The Simple Things

2009-02-07T10:36:00.000-08:00

Isn't it funny how the little things sometimes give you the most pleasure? I came to know yesterday (Friday) in my internship that I have Saturdays off too, along with Sundays. It pleased me no end, as much as my miraculous escape in a certain hellish course.

So that's four more days to completely laze around. At least I spent some of this one productively by whipping up a title image. I'm still very much a Photoshop newbie so every one of my creations makes me really proud (another one of those little things). Although this one was ridiculously easy to make once I found the right background in deviantart which I could crop and modify. It even somehow ended up with the slight blurry effect which I think enhances it.

I imagine it as Morpheus observing us from wherever he is (or something). The Earth and all of us are just part of a fine yarn which the Kindly Ones have yet to finish making something out of.

The Best Post Apocalypse Story Ever

2009-02-03T10:31:00.000-08:00

My first post about comics, in this case a particular comic. A few days back I read a very highly rated manga called Akira, written and drawn by the manga pioneer Katsuhiro Otomo. And by freaking God, was it a mind-blowing experience.

It’s divided in six volumes, which does not come nearly close to the 28 volume ‘Lone Wolf and Cub’, my other favourite manga. But Otomo managed to make it just as epic and, in all the senses of the words, ground-breaking. You can actually see the rules of modern manga being single-handedly made right there. The art is simply superb, better than LW&C, and anyone who has read the latter and knows how highly I regard it (but that’s a post for another day) will know how serious I am when I say this.

When it comes to the story I confess I started it with little optimism. I mostly downloaded it to see what is there to rave about. I have always found post apocalypse stories to be clichéd and mindlessly violent, with more than a hint of a forced depressing atmosphere.

This isn’t.

Akira is set thirty years after an unknown explosion destroyed Tokyo and started World War III. Through the volumes we find what the source of the explosion – ‘Akira’ – really was and how it can potentially impact the future again (and does); in the background of the lives and actions of the two juvenile delinquent protagonists, and a solid cast of supporting characters. We see in the beginning that the people in Neo-Tokyo had mostly healed from the end of the world horrors from thirty years ago and how they keep on surviving whatever Otomo throws at them. Akira is as much a story celebrating human resilience as anything else. Unlike most other pieces of serialised fiction, there is never a fixed status quo (except maybe in the first two volumes) and the frequent restructuring of society is brilliantly handled. Events which you would conventionally have thought would happen somewhere near the end happen as early as the second volume, and this frantic pacing keeps throwing the reader off-guard. The humour is mostly good but it falls flat at times, its probably the weakest link of the manga.

In a very entertaining and completely non-preachy manner Otomo has weaved a beautiful discourse on the subjects of isolation (the character of Tetsuo and his actions remind me a lot of Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’), wars and politics, religion, greed and fear, among others. He shows the depths humans can fall and the heights they can rise. Tetsuo in particular remains the most poignant character I have read in quite a while. In fact, I fail to remember the last time I read a comic which had so many memorable characters for me. Perhaps Watchmen comes the closest.

Like I mentioned before, Akira (and the subsequent film adaptation by Otomo – which I’m yet to see) is regarded as a pioneer of modern manga and anime. One can easily see why. The clichés of usual manga/anime fare – annoying, cocky protagonists, obligatory juvenile romances, some absurdly colourful side characters – are all seen here, yet they seemed fresh, even though I’ve experienced a lot of future wannabes over the years. I believe it is because Otomo successfully weaved them into the story rather than merely forcing them on it.

Lone Wolf and Cub still remains my favourite Japanese comic, but this came ever so close to dislodging it. So if you are a comics geek like me, this is a must read. For everyone else except those who absolutely abhor the genre (I can’t help you), its worth picking up and giving it a try. I know what’s the first thing I do when I have a faster net connection once I get back to college, find the movie and watch it.

Kazanga!

2009-01-22T23:36:00.000-08:00

Reader's Digest wisdom

Visiting a village in a Third World nation, An American dignitary tells the natives, "I bring you warm greetings from my people."
The natives respond loudly, "Kazanga!"
"We wish you prosperity!"
"Kazanga!" the natives bellow.
"I promise years of friendship and economic benefit!"
"Kazanga! Kazanga!"

As the dignitary leaves the podium, he smilingly tells the chief, "That went pretty well".
"Uh huh," the chief replies, "Look out! Don't step in the kazanga."

When Football and Money didn't meet... thankfully so.

2009-01-21T11:13:00.000-08:00

If you are a football fan, and you haven’t been living under a rock, then you have most certainly heard about the transfer drama surrounding Ricardo Izecson dos Santos Leite, better known as Kaká. It ended yesterday with the man reportedly deciding to stay at Milan rather than be lured by the obscene wages the EPL club were offering.

Now I am not a Milan fan, nor is Kaká my favourite player in the world, although I do like him (even have his jersey). But I am a football fan, and I was praying all along that he doesn’t go to City? Why? Because for however financially sound the move would have been, all my footballing sensibilities were against a former World Player of the Year moving to a relegation threatened club. It is also heartening to see players showing some loyalty (even if the club doesn’t reciprocate, like the current case) while most others follow the money trail. But that is beside the point.

Money has governed the game ever since one can remember, and there is nothing wrong with it. For all the romanticism associated with the game, it is still a business and money will make it go round. It is no coincidence that all of the ‘big clubs’ across Europe have the most money and there is nothing wrong with a lower club spending its way to the top. The football fan’s mind is short term, and the post Abramovich Chelsea is comfortably regarded as a big club now even though it was never one before the money had started pouring in. No doubt Manchester City would be regarded as the same a couple of years from now.

However, there lies a difference between Chelsea and Manchester City. Chelsea didn’t obscenely start waving its money as soon as Abramovich bought the club. They first built a solid squad of players which could challenge the top, and once their status was assured, did they actively try to buy ‘stars’. It is an interesting point that Chelsea’s first real star signing – Andriy Shenchenko, turned out to be the biggest transfer flop this side of Walter Samuel. Manchester City, on the other hand, lie just four points above the drop zone and yet they have tried to buy one of the biggest players of the world, purely on the temptation of money. While I do not buy elitist arguments that clubs without a winning history have no business challenging at the top purely due to their spending power, I do take offence as a football fan to see a rich club having nothing to offer by way of footballing ambitions and yet going for the big guns simply because they financially can. It would have probably disgusted me to see Kaká try to save a team from relegation rather than help it reach the top. City would do well to first improve and consolidate their status before they start approaching the best players.

Interestingly, I have otherwise taken heart by the fact that City have shored up their defence considerably in this transfer window, which was clearly their problem area. They really did not need an attacking player like Kaká (although a player of his talents certainly would not hurt) since they have the second best attacking record in the league; their troubles lied in the back. They have already made one shock signing in Robinho in the summer which signals their intent to challenge the big guns, but they need to follow it up with performances on the field, before stars like Kaká would even contemplate going there and fans outside their loyal base could start accepting it.

First Thoughts

2009-01-21T07:06:00.000-08:00

This is not a blog with any one theme. It has been created as an avenue to put out my random thoughts, let out some of my frustrations, perhaps rekindle my dormant love for fiction writing. The two biggest loves of my life are football and comics, my posts may reflect that. We'll see how things pan out. For now, hope you enjoy the ride.