Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Ramblin'

God, just my second month of trying to blog and I can't even think of anything to write!
So, I am going to do the real 'blog' thing.

First up, one of the best collection of signboards that you will find on the Internet,
Funniest top 10 signs
Check that out. I personally liked the Most Obvious One.

The past couple of weeks, I have been trying to find a movie called "Glengarry Glen Ross".

Glengarry Glen Ross is a 1992 independent film, adapted by David Mamet from his acclaimed 1984 Pulitzer Prize- and Tony-winning play of the same name. The film depicts two days in the lives of four real estate agents and how they become desperate when the corporate office sends a representative to "motivate" them by announcing that, in one week, all except the top two salesmen will be fired. The film, like the play, is notorious for its use of profanity, leading the cast to jokingly refer to the film as "Death of a Fuckin' Salesman".[1] The actual title of the film comes from the names of two of the real estate developments being peddled by the salesmen characters (Glengarry Highlands and Glen Ross Farms).

No Luck yet. But any of you loyal readers find it, give me a shout.

Wystan Hugh Auden (21 February 1907–29 September 1973), who signed his works W. H. Auden, was an Anglo-American poet, born in England, later an American citizen.
"Funeral Blues" or "Stop all the clocks" is a poem first published in 1936 by W. H. Auden.
I first heard it in "Four Weddings And A Funeral"

Here is to one of the greatest poets of the English language that you may never hear of -

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Real reason for remembering him now is the alarming number and significance of deaths in 2009.
Here is the complete list - Death09.

Brittany Murphy died yesterday at 1800 GMT. I watched 8 Mile a while back and Happy Feet yesterday (6th time). I found out today.
Man, life is sure screwed up.
She still missed the magic figure, though.
33
Bruce Lee & Jesus H. Christ.
No kidding. Both died at the age of 33. (The 2nd one is more of a probability)

Do you ever get the feeling that this world is not really what it looks like?
I get that a lot of times. But not the deep philosophical feeling.
I am talking about the superficial, empty feeling you get when you see something really crazy and twisted in this puppet play.

Sometimes I think we are just some high-er school ubër nerds' Science project. He (Could it be a She?) just decided on a whim to add a little soda bicarb to the classic high school Volcano exhibit and Hey, Presto! - Earth in all its heathen glory.
Don't get me wrong.
I am not complaining about my life or anybody else.
It's just that I sometimes wish that there is some method to THE madness.
And also secretly pray that the kid does not get tired of us and give us up for something else
(which may have already happened)
OR even worse, decides to trash Project Earth completely...

Do You?

Thursday, December 3, 2009

The Catch

"It's the newest craze on Facebook, man! You got to try it out!", said, my friend, Abhishek.

But like everything else he says I took it with a pinch of salt.
The guy is a Facebook addict. Any new application that even remotely appeals to something inside of him happens to be the coolest thing ever.
So was this.

"Its called the Click Of Death. It's really simple, dude! All you do is click a button and someone you know just gets wiped off the face of the earth. Just like that!", he said, snapping his fingers.

"And they say you get a hefty amount of money for - ".

"OK, stop that now. You know that stuff doesn't work. It must be like one of those 'read-this-and-die-in-a-week' scams the net pulls of on no-gooders like you", I interjected.

"But that is the best thing. There is no catch involved in this! Except for the fact that it is invite only", he continued excitedly
.
"Aaha! I knew there would be a catch. They send you an invite and you have to fork up a sum to get in. And then some idiot in Nigeria will probably get high on that cash!", I shot back.

"Aww, Common man! Don't be such a wet blanket. At least you got the mail, bro!"

This brought us back to where we were in the beginning. I had the mail. He didn't.

So, now he wanted me to try it out. The sender and the application creator was some guy in America called Milton.
It just gave you a link to the application.

Now I am not naturally inquisitive, but my so-called friend is. So, despite my protestations he had clicked on the link.

The result was an unnaturally spartan web page. Devoid of any flashing banners and porn site adverts, it had only one single RED button.

The button, itself, was plain and without any label.
The rules were simple. You click the button.

The application selects any random user on Facebook and pulls the plug on that person.
And IT takes care to select a person whom you don't know. AT ALL.
Just a random stranger.

And 'It' has been staring at me for the past two hours. My friend refused to budge till I did it.

In the end, I snapped and did it.
Maybe my unstable financial state had something to do with it.
Maybe it was the economic recession
I just clicked the goddamn BUTTON.

Nothing happened. I laughed hard, swore at my friend and kicked him out.

Five minutes later, I got another mail saying 1 million $ had been deposited into my bank account. I did not believe it for even one moment as they had not asked for any sort of financial details.

But I still called the bank. (I was that desperate!)
A minute later, I was ready to go into a madhouse.
Delirious with happiness, I called up Abhishek and told him the GREAT news.
It had really happened!

I don't know when I crossed back into reality.
But I think it was due to the presence of another new mail in my inbox that shook me.

From Milton.
It was short and simple.

"Congratulations on your win. Use the money well and wisely.
Most importantly, use it fast. Because I am sending out another invite.
And I will make sure I will send it to someone You Don't Even Know."

I knew there would be some catch.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Shorts #2

Convoluted

How I Met Your Father. Ted Weds Barney.

Skynet Is Powered By Google Search.

Epitaph: He Loved The Net. 410.

Alfred Leaves Wayne Manor. Alleges Sexual Harassment.

Pi To e: It Sucks To be Square.

E-Shakespeare: To 7 Or Not To 7

God To Earthlings: “Cry More, Suckers!”

Old McDonald To Sue Ronnie For Copyright Infringement.

Last Man On Earth: How Do I Jerk Off?

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Poetic

One of the greatest pieces of poetic fiction ever written
from S.T. Coleridge's
The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner

And the Albatross begins to be avenged.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink ;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot : O Christ !
That ever this should be !
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night ;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.


And a not so poetic one

"C#":

Just like C plus plus
With garbage collection and
Some more dot net stuff

Shorts #1

self-explanatory

New genes demand expression -- third eye.

WORLD ends tomorrow. See you on Monday.

Epitaph: He loved his pet tiger more than himself.

Superman revolts: Won't wear undies outside.

Big Bang at eleven.See you there.

Bush told the truth. Hell froze.

Nevertheless, he tried a third time.

Aliens To Earthlings: “Cry no more, noobs!”

Thought I was right. I wasn't.

Lost, then found. Too bad.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Guest Post

Our guest of the day is the esteemed Dr. Camelot Sweetbread. Recognized in academic circles as an accomplished gambler, gastronome and scientist extraordinaire. He is currently visiting us for something called 'diplomatic immunity' and to deliver a lecture at The Straight Thinker's Coffee Meet in the city on "The House Fly's Migratory Patterns". So, get ready for a post on awesome randomness and please forgive the ramblings.


Firstly, for the newcomers I, Dr. Camelot, PhD, D.So and Fellow of the Order of the Peahen welcome you. Any boys reading this should try not to be baffled by the obtuse definitions and magnificent oration of My Highness. Girls should not try to read this. In my country of Rumcokeistania, we do not allow them female to read. You people should think about that.

Let us begin with a little Englis, yes. To those of you who say it is not Englis, I say ''In your mouths and noses" ! To even write that incorrect spelling is a crime.
But I am here to teach and so here goes it..

Some things you have to know -

Antarctica :
It is a place covered with white cloth in the south. It was found by the penguins through the guidance of a dancing Elijah Wood. I may be wrong but I think there is a McDonald's there. Some Nice seal burgers they got there.

Africa :
It is the place with the no light bulbs. There is no place like it they say. It was found by the Toto in 1982. People with diamonds live there. Also Leonardo di Caprio lived there. Haven't seen him for a long time. Never went there either.

Ozone :
The place in the Englis Alphabet between 'N' and 'P'.
And yes it has a hole in between it. Apparently that hole leads to Australia

Australia :
It is the place where ''I-Don't-Know'' lives. It is a land of very weird people.
Also Hugh Jackman exists there.
In Australia they say happy as this "(-:" .

That is all for today. I am afraid you cannot handle this much awesomeness.

Till next time then dC:) "The Giant Forehead With Hat"

PS. : I Don't Love You. Not One Bit.
Instead watch "The Revenge Of El Burro". Awesome movie.

YOU GOT SPAM

Entry from the diary of one J.T. Ryan dated 4th of June, 2006.

I blinked hard. Real hard as I stared at the glowing red number.
666. I had spam.
Now that is no cause for concern for most web users. But ME. My name is J.T. Ryan.
Caution is my middle name. The only way I could get spam was if I was sending it. Let me elaborate. You see, I am a very paranoid person. I do not ''roam'' the web as most people do.
The only site that can count me as a frequent visitor is my mail client. I just don't need the WWW.
I go out, read, sing and waste my time working for an insurance company. That is why I am bugged.
I hardly get 50 mails a month. But the spam - at least 500 since the last Friday.
Still the number was not what worried me. It was the sender or senders. And of course, the content.
Streams of numbers. Random digits interspersed with a couple of alphabets. The pattern was always the same.
3 lines. 16 characters per line.
My first thought was that it was a code. So, I passed a couple of them on to a mathematician friend. He confirmed what I thought. It was a message, alright. He said he would decode it in about a week.
I let go of the worry and went out for the weekend with my girlfriend, Stacy. She was a sweet girl, a bit crazy and weird but still I liked her. She was a pre-school teacher and also an amateur sushi chef. Blue eyes and a cherubic smile. She was my dream girl.

J.T. never came back. He was found murdered in a hotel - 'Blue Oyster'. It was on the highway. A knife through the heart. Lots of blood. Investigators could not find any clues at the hotel. They placed the death at 6 in the morning of 6th of June. They searched his belongings and also his house. They found an incoherent and blood spattered Stacy at his house. With the knife. And saying "J.T." repeatedly. They also found a single unread message in his in-box.

From mathwiz@gmail.com,
Dude, I don't know what to tell you. The message says - "Stay away from blue oysters and sushi chefs on 666". And that is not even the strangest thing. I swear I am not lying but It Is Signed J.T. Ryan.

As He Said Before The Only Way He Would Get Spam Was If He Was Sending It.