Filetered Vision, filetered logic

The DMK warlord Karunanidhi is an idiot, and it needs no more advertisement for he modeled it all for himself. You don't sit in the lap of you mother and then call her a whore. This is exactly what he did. Who is Ram?Which IIT did he or his engineers go to make that Ram Sethu?

Perhaps he should have had been thankful to the people extolled in our religion or mythology (what many people prefer to call it). If not for these great people, leaders by example, who have taught us the art of patience and forgiveness, he would have been tied to a tree trunk and set afire for his blasphemy. Well we are not like him. We are people who have what we call as brains, not accidentally which Karnuanidhi and many others of his like call and have, if any, for sure, and we use it to think logically and not take everything as it is presented and are not mere fanatics. So we forgive him and he keeps on ranting his jingoistic tunes.

And then there is this group of mahants in Allahabad, Varanasi who have put forth a religious edict for rewarding anybody who brings him Karunanidhi's head. Like begets like. But certainly another fall to correct a fall is not advisable. If we ask for heads so often then we'd be left with many headless torsos and also we are not one of 'those' for whom claiming somebody's head is as routine as say breathing.

But what was surprising in this whole episode was that some people went up in arms against this diktat. If I am not wrong, they said something like we are democracy, nobody can issue such a diktat Plenty of legal cases started in the already overloaded courts.

Where were these people, where were their infallible beliefs in democracy, the whole setup, when somebody asked of the head of the Danish cartoonist, or for Salman Khan to do community service, or when this one lady was asked to marry her father-in-law because the bastard-in-law had raped here and so she was now her husband's mother!!

Termites on any civilization.

Scratch where they feel necessary and meets their own ends. Why don't you guys just simply die or waste away to a horrible death.

I heard Diwali is round the corner. Isn't it time an unknown, a nobody dons the garb of Ram, kills the beast and we celebrate the home coming?

Dogs of God.

I am very much a religious person. I believe in the institution of religion and the faith. But then I cannot understand the fanatics of religion.

Every day of festivity and celebration is a tool in hands of these kind of jerks who make the life of others miserable.

Ganesh Chaturthi came again.

And everything was back to square one.

The length of the access road to my house is just a couple of meters less than a kilometer. Never would have had imagined the enormity of this 1 kilometer, if not for these days. There are 5 pandals which have idols of Ganesh in them. The first person is an ardent follower of the Elephant-head-God and wants the other to know and understand how feverishly he worships the God. The second, person, not to be bogged down by the intensity of the first person’s worship, makes his offerings, chanting of hyms all the more loud and audible. Well the fifth one cannot go beyond the maximum volume the speakers available in the neighborhood can give. Poor chap doesn’t have much of an upper hand.

Also, there is this procession on the road. The traffic policemen have cordoned off the road. If is peak time in the evening, people are returning from offices, some leaving for offices, all the vehicles that were at some time parked are now on the road. The traffic piles up for kilometers; the procession is the fastest to move, rather the only thing moving. The devotees in the procession light fire crackers, who cares if it hurts anybody, God will take care if he wants to and the injured deserved the care. The drums, the loud Bollywood music, did Ganesh ever fancy the Bollywood music especially ‘Aashiq banaya aapne…”. God knows.

And petty mortals like me wait, asphyxiating in the smoke of fire crackers, shove the silencer of the tractor into me ears, pull out my eyeballs and squash it on the road, chew off my own tongue and do what not, apart from holding that urge to take a piss.

And what do others like me do, just pray that either these kind of people go and meet their God before the next year’s Ganesh Chaturthi or the God puts some sense into these nonsense and make them understand worshiping is not about disturbing others.

Key Take away: Whenever you know there is high probability of traffic jam which nobody knows when it will clear, always wear a diaper.

Mutual Screwing... I screw you... You screw me...

It is a vicious circle; more of co-habitation because of lack of options rather than consensual.

And just why is it a circle? Well what goes around comes around. I screw you, you screw me, simple.

The only difference being that the ‘I’ here has the option of screwing this or that, one among the many (well in many cases one amongst atleast two). But the ‘You’ here does not have that choice of whom he/she/it might choose. There is there only instance of ‘I’ available here. So whose is the one who gets the pleasure or say pain of getting screwed every so often? No prizes for guessing the answer. It is the deplorable ‘I’ here.

Now you guys must be wondering who is the ‘I’ here and who is the ‘You’ here. The ‘I’ here is the crowd, the common people, the aam junta ( the mango people), who choose the ‘You’ here which are the politicians, the corporators, the bureaucrats, the local municipality etc. So you see the ‘I’ here has many options to select from and to who takes the seat, gaddi, of power and screw them. The ‘You’ doesn’t have that luxury hence the ‘I’ has dilated muscles and you know where.

By now I am sure you guys won’t leave me alone until I (this is the real me and not the ‘I’ here) tell you where does this whole theory comes from.

Take an example.

The citizens choose the government, let’s be limited to the local government. Then the citizens ask for improvement of basic infrastructure, basic amenities, parks, clean drinking water, decent walk able footpaths, trees on the sides of the road. Essentially screwing the government, making it do thing which are most likely on the lest priority list; they being busy with milching the citizens, the government machinery to get wot not, trying to do as many nonsensical gymnastics with the law, rules so as to make sure that they get an assured chance the next time they get to the polls.

So this in part explains the ‘I’ screw ‘You’.

Of the many ways the ‘I’ screws ‘You’ (leave the Kamsutra aside) let us focus on one "trees on the sides of the roads footpaths". Now it is the time for the ‘You’ come back and screw the ‘I’. So they plant the trees with the rusted tree guards to guard them when God only knows how long the guards themselves can live the beat of the weather. And just what do they plant? Coconut trees! The ‘I’ here is happy, takes comfort in the pleasure. But the pain follows not too late. The trees grow, the coconuts hang from the tree, ripe full with the coconut milk. Then one day an ‘I’ is on the footpath walking his/her way home, or to where he/she is heading to and BANG! There falls a coconut and the nut is split open in the two halves; both the coconut and the head of this ‘I’.

So this in part explains the ‘You’ screw ‘I’.

Many may argue, "statistics prove that the probability of a falling coconut hitting a person is as low as nothingth of nothing*". Well how many times do we really get to hear from a person explaining that the hump on this head is a result of a coconut falling on him; nothingth of nothing* times! Just because no crimes are logged with the police department does that really mean the area is crime free? Not really.

But then who am I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) to say anything. Both the ‘You’ and ‘I’ are happy and satiated. The max I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) can do is make sure I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) choose the ‘You’ who can screw me in less number of ways or not screw to the ‘You’ and expect the same favor in return.

* Inspiration (Anu Malik's style) from Douglas Adams "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"

Insane than insanity.

A Simple question:

How much more insane than insanity can an insane thing be?

Before you start yelling, some laughing maybe guffawing, some gesticulating and nodding their head in disbelief that I have gone mad, let me explain why I ask this question.


There is this religious rule in one of the Islamic countries which says:

“A woman can be held accused of adultery/ infidelity if she cannot produce at
least four males who can testify in the court of law that the woman was
raped.”

I so much want to entire post, filled with exclamation marks. !!!!!!!!!!!

Isn’t this the easiest way to condone the acts of quenching the thirst of sexual pleasures outside the confines of a sacred marriage? And the onus of proving herself innocent is left to hapless woman, who has undergone such a physical and mental torture, a setback to her self esteem, from which there is no coming back. And the conditions of that proof are so such surreal that actually there is no way of the female is proved innocent.

If there was a rape, how can the lady get 4 males, leave alone 1 to testify that she was raped. Even if there were 4 + males in that room where the horrible act happened wouldn’t they be part of the crime, would they say something and put themselves at the guillotine? If not an abettor in the crime then what were they doing there, watching a live porn and self serving?

And when the government kind of tries to do away with this annoying law the religious heads (empty ones I guess) pop up saying that this is blasphemous!

I wouldn’t ever want even my arch nemesis to have a daughter in that land.

And Bangalore dies once again ...

September 3, 2006: Bangalore chocked to death once again. On a usual day she normally chokes and has a near death experience, atleast two times a day, for hours in the morning and hours in the evening. A routine thing, to which, the Bangaloreans have got used to and they miss the chocking when it is not there. The city recuperates from the week of chocking and gasping for breath on the weekends and on public holidays. But September 3, 2006 was different. It was a holiday, a Sunday, a laid back day for most. The city, while trying to muster some strength to get over the atrocities done to it the gone week and get ready for the onslaught of the next week, was sloshed in the dirt of Congress’s doing.

The Hunter vali, the ring master, the Chairwoman, the lifeline of the party, the incumbent for the only name that does wonder in Indian Politics, Mrs. Sonia Gandhi, was in the city. And the entire Congress party had like poured into the city to felicitate her home (??) coming, to shout slogans praising her and her efforts to dislodge the so called and so many communal forces, to have done all that has been done, undone, will be done, was/is promised but will not be done and all the other forms of done.

Big, super big, super duper big, cutouts were put, banners were placed everywhere and anywhere. If there’s a place, there’s a banner/cutout. Like it was a crime to leave any space unattended! And so many faces donned those posters. Even some of the congress workers were surprised to find that they had so many buffoons in their party. Why do the toothpaste companies not give them some free tooth-paste? The last thing I want to see is these people wearing a yellow toothed smile! And if the big buffoons are there on the display then how come the ntire entourage of monkeys be left behind? So there were family members, near and distantly distant, first level workers, ward workers, the accountants, the siphon-ers, the sweepers, the filth-doers, the named, the un-named and everybody who has the alphabets C, O, N, G, R, E, S, S in their name.

There were plastic flags dotting the entire length of the medians on all the roads of Bangalore; of course where the armada would zoom past. I so many times feel it is so good that these politicians are not interested in visiting each and every locality of a town; else it would be like “Me in a plastic clad Congress land!”

The newspapers reported that the local politicians had a scuffle over who would share the dais with the Lady. I am now so sure that she smells so good. Which perfume??

Then there were those busses. One after another, bumper to bumper, with people packed in. I don’t know what they were offered, a non-vegetarian meal and Rs.500 or more. I guess not, after all it was not fo(a)rmer PM. Devegowda’s call. But the people seemed to be comfortable in those busses. Maybe they don’t have busses in their village, maybe the busses are rickety shiketty, maybe they don’t have seats, what ever the reason may be. But even these comfortable busses are a pain, and you know where, for the daily traveler. I’d recommend the city transport to increase the number of footboards on these busses and increase their surface area, atleast people will have more space to put their toe on and not try some trapeze-ing on the window/door railings.

So these people on a one day tour to Bangalore had a good time, went sightseeing (yes it was all the gargoyles were operational, all the roads were cleaned and were dressed in a coat of fresh paint), delicious lunch, were even paid for junket. They had great time littering wherever they could, spitting whenever they could, and squatting for the obvious when ever they should. The plastic flags and banners did their part so well, flawless; falling on the roads, being swept away by a light gush of wind, trying on their own to complete the picture by blowing into every nook of the road’s asphalt, tree branches. A complete disaster for the city; a perfect mayhem.

And I witnessed all of this as I stood there watching all this happen, a helpless person, trying to reach his class on time only to be stopped, as the traffic piled up, because somebody important was supposed to take the road sometime in next half hour or the next to next one.

Her emergency supply lines went down. It will take her a long time to come back to normal.

Bangalore died once again, asphyxiated and chocked.

While I tried to kill myself and lit a cigarette …

Pointless point?

I read this discussion on point on one of my firend's blog. I subscribe to his views but see it in a different perspective.

Any and all points can be fixed point or a floating point.

Consider Case 1:

Our petite point is a fixed point.

The fixed point mathematics say that a point that makes f(x)=x is a fixed point. If this fixed point has dimensions and is pregnent with other points then this argument fails, as then the function will map to many points inside a single point and become a one to many mapping. Since the function f(x) is one-to-one function this cannot be true. Ideally it should not be a mapping, one-to-one or one-to-many or many-to-many as it doesn't map to a smallest unit but a space
consisting of this smallest unit!

Consider Case 2:

Our petite point is a floating point.

Well floating points are just a representation of the real world fixed point in digital world. So the same argument hold here too.

Q.E.D

I always loved to scribble Q.E.D. My Quite Easily Done attempt.