Thursday, August 31, 2006

Mr Biswas Told Me So

Angry scenes were witnessed at the railway station today when a enraged father of three lashed out an equally enraged father of two. The ensuing war of words, mainly expletives refering to the anatomy of the female blood relations, threatened to spiral into a bit of one sock, two sock.

The reason for the fight according to one of the combatants was an improper way of getting off the train by the other, whereas the other accused him of blocking his passage out. The final conclusion was brought about by the non-partisan train which pulled out of the station after the end of the 23rd second. The man at the door was heard inviting the other onto the train, while his adversary for the morning was also gracious enough to extend an invitation from his side.

It was noted that the crowd, including this author, refused to be drawn into this banter and went about its business as usual.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Divulge No Details

. I'm slow on the uptake and lazy to ingest
- For a little one that's quite a dramatic line
. Keeps me grounded, this drama. You know I'm struggling with a massive block. I can't write no more
- Maybe it’s a complex, you know with all these Blogs and 2nd generation Internet jazz going around. Progress is intimidating for many
. They should have a device that writes down all I think of, like a pen that takes care of syntax and grammar and makes me a millionaire
- Must money always feature in these ideas of yours. Why a pen though? Why not have a bowl that conjures up food as you think of it
. You dropped the question mark in your last question
- No I didn't, it was rhetoric. You know today I think I can tolerate your pointed remarks
. I was hoping to rile you. Damn, you dashed all of 'em
- Listen, why don't we play a game?
. What sort would the game be? You were a queen the last time round
- No; this one will be an accent game. I'll speak in a Brit accent, you choose yours
. Why do have to be a pansy always? I'll speak the Yoda, anyway. More suited for a typed dialogue it is. Who will the victor not be?
- The one whose accent sounds alien

Monday, August 21, 2006

Two chinese boy-don't lie

See what YouTube dragged in!!

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Ewwgenics and Milla

Can Milla Jovovich sing? I'm not sure about that but she can sure hum and lull me to sleep. She can also act and emote and send me to bed, alone. Its a little sad but I think she won't be a bigg (inspired by Digg) hit with me. Sorry Milla, or is it a single L, sorry anyway, you killer of zombies, you forgotten Saint, you carbon namesake.

There was a peep and a request. I'll let them take over. "Them who" you ask? Well, last night they came back and claimed their own. Today they demand an audience, I give you 'Dot' and 'Dash' take.

. Finally we're here

- What are you so gung-ho about?

. Because I have someone other than you to speak to

- And what matter of great import were you going to convey out here

. That you're a queen

- Queen Sheeba, you dimwitted single point of existence

. Hah! A queen all the same. Do you realise how ridiculous you look with that feather boa on you? It either hangs limp down your sides or is spread along you length

- Its a wonder to talk about length. You're the same standing, sitting or lying down. Really, don't you realise that I exist in many more dimensions than you do

. Now don't start on eugenics like that slick haired German. Your kind would've been sent to the shredder as well

- Oh, I'll just swing away when convenient. Do you have an Orkut account by any chance?

. No can't get a I hate these companies that discriminate

- I heard AOL is giving away free accounts, I got one, its called I just twitter when the pingy voice goes 'You've got male'

. Fag

Well that's all they had for now, I may have more about what Milla Jovovich is missing here, other than the obvious double Ds, but does anyone care?

Monday, August 14, 2006

The Smartist

Ha, you might be wondering what a Smartist all about. Let me explain.

We always had Art that a majority of the population never understood or had access to and we had movements in Art that kept it alive until technology came along. Slowly technology and marketed entertainment replaced the true nature of Art. Advertising became Art; Fashion became Art, instead of just being a mirror to it. Art became very literal, lost its metaphors and its simplicities...and daresay its Artiness.

Technology (here I mean widespread computing) picked up from where Art had left off. It was open and accessible, yet obtuse enough to confound many. Technology was what Art was until technology came along, full of insights and rich in content, yet nascent enough to grow into the defining force of man. Grow it did but into yet another extremely commercialised and controlled behemoth. Define it did but the terms were not always acceptable.

Smartism is a movement to bring both Art and Technology closer to everyone’s understanding. Not talking down to anyone because the first premise we start with is that 'Everyone is smart enough to understand'. Collaborative and open source are ways in this direction, communities and blogs are the artistic sides of it. Smartism accepts and encompasses all the other movements, Smartism says yes and does not differentiate, much like drinking, Jim Morrison would say.

By virtue of that we call us The Smartists and everyone irrespective of their taste is welcome. We have a name for the bunch that believes that Art and Technology must be elite and people can be talked down to...we call them The Fartists.

(Its fun you know, when you can also be called The SMartists)

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

All in a morning

Is that love at first sight?
Or is it love many sights down?
Are these random words right?
(Noun, gown, crown, frown)
Or are they just words that rhyme with down


Sweet molten land accrues
On the treads of a far traveler’s shoes
Faces swim in and out
Voices fall to a whisper after the shout
Love and life have no bound
As the traveler sees the world around
Sweet molten sands trip you
As you run through the trap laid anew


He sees his rhymes in meter and sound
He sees them float and fly around
I stand there with my thoughts rooted
Urge them to take wings and soar unsupported
He laughs and winks as he tumbles by
The verse, the line, the poem that is my
Slip out of fashion and follow him
In a blaze and a flash I am Him