What would RTH do?

That is the question.

If I were in a highschool yearbook, they would vote me most likely to die of a lynch mob. That does not prevent me from opening my mouth and serving a warm hearty cup of STFU to people who deserve it. My dark scathing humor will leave no matter of existence untouched. My innocence will touch your soul.

Welcome to a warped world turned inside out and upside down. All sorts of discretion advised.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Wise/Unwise Decision

Today, I decided to delete a majority of my other blogs.

Reasons:
  1. It was lame to have so many blogs
  2. I was not even regularly updating half the blogs
  3. It was too much of a chore to maintain some of the blogs
  4. I could never catch up with movies and books
  5. I slowed down on watching movies and reading books because I could not keep up with the blog
  6. I was spreading myself too thin, doing way too much
  7. I had other important things I should be doing first
  8. I shall now have more free time
  9. I can finally read, do stuff without feeling compelled to right about it
  10. I can write whenever, whatever, no deadlines, schedules, themes.

Annotated Harry Potter and this are continuing.

Maybe an adulterated Twilight in 2010. Oh me and my ideas.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Ten Awesomely Awesome Endings for DMG

I wrote this post in good humor a long time back when it was announced DMG would end. Going by my better judgment, I decided not to post it to avoid arguments in an already chaotic forum. So here is the post in its full glory.

I don't watch DMG. However, in my short term as moderator here; I have learned a whole lot. For example I used to think American politics was polarized between the liberals and conservatives, red state, blue state. Boy was I wrong, shiver me timbers, if the polarization of DMG was the landscape of American politics then forget the secession and civil war would seem like a relaxing day by the pool side. I used to be terrified of the likes of Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin and their tea partying followers. But now I shudder at the thought of tea parties, coffee parties, breakfast clubs, supper club, milk and cookie parties, cookie and milk parties and all the factions that potentially could be partying. It is not all bleak though. It has been a positive experience. Most importantly, I know that if they ever bring a crappy DA on Law & Order or if they eliminate my favorite contestant on DWTS, I can take it up with Congress. In fact if they eliminate Bristol Palin, I will make it a legislative issue of highest order. Sarah Palin will back me. 

Unfortunately, the show is coming to an end and its not easy for some to let go. Moreover, there is some issue with the ending. Its not appealing to all people, and we are approaching that uncivil war point. So in return for all the invaluable experience and knowledge gained through DMG, I thought it apt to make a Lincolnesque gesture to create some antebellum peace.

Here is my contribution – 

Ten awesomely awesome endings that should make everyone like so totally happy

The Inception - Chris Nolan's sci-fi caper has been the most talked about film of the year. How awesome is the concept of shared dreams, stealing/planting ideas and just totally (censored) with our minds? The show ends with a group of a dozen most ardent DMG fans waking up in the CV lab. That was  one heck of a shared dream that spanned two seasons. Too bad the dosage was incorrect and they woke up before we could know the end.
Spinoff Potential: DMG stars share a dream and entangle fans in amorous twists and capers. Ah sweet revenge. 

The Seventh Heaven – This happy family soap drama started out with Eric and Annie Camden and their kids, by the end of it most Camden kids had gone on to bigger and better things. The process is simple introduce one new character and story arc ever episode. By the time the show is done the audience is like SR/AR? Who SR/AR? Were they even on the show?

Spinoff Potential: The show started in Sanjeevani hospital, and now it is about some volunteer workers in rural India. Nothing matters, the show just goes on in tangents.

The X-Files – Alright X-files fans were finally appeased when their beloved Fox Mulder came back after being abducted by aliens. But the opposite can work very well too. Just have aliens come in and abduct the three leading stars. If you loved them pretend that the aliens gifted each their own planet to rule. If you hated them pretend that the aliens conducted very nasty experiments on them.
Spinoff Potential: A science fiction show with DMG stars lost in Space. Captain Vyom anyone?

The Hannah Montana – She has the best of both worlds, chilling out slow, then she rocks out the show. If ordinary girl Miley Stewart can live in her two worlds, then why can't our Riddhima. Sometimes a girl just needs to chill one day and rock out the next. I'm not sure Disney would approve, but this really is not about Disney.

Spinoff Potential: Pick your poison – Big Love or Desperate House Husbands?

The Star Wars – Can you imagine the plight of Luke and Leia shippers after they discovered that the couple were actually brothers and sisters? As a child I was a Luke and Leia shipper and have spent my adulthood in denial. Either way, pulling a Star Wars is the most awesomely sadistic thing to do, a double whammy is even better. In a devilish twist of fate both Arman and Sid turn out to be Doctor Gupta's illegitimate sons.  If you thought EMA was too much, boy are you in for a heart attack.

Spinoff Potential: An animated series called the "Intern Wars". It's about all those other people in hospitals who do surgeries, treat patients and all that jazz.  \

The Law & Order – What do you do if you are Dick Wolf and need to get rid of a character, but raving fan following might have you get her back? Simple, kill her off. Haha not really. She simply pretends to get killed so that she can get into victims protection plan with a fake identity and bust a gang of drug lords and then magically reappear. Riddhima has uncovered a heinous organ transplant racket and fakes her death and goes undercover. Both Armaan and Sid mourn her (fake) death. 

Spinoff Potential: A crime drama busting illegal rackets. For some reason Riddhima is a trained detective

The Jenny Schecter – Popular lesbian soap drama ended with the dead body of one of the main characters found floating in a pool. While the show ended, it did not matter who ended up coupling with whom and who had slept with whom on the chart. What really mattered was who killed Jenny Schecter? So we end with the dead body of Riddhima found floating in a pool. The question is not if she slept with Armaan or Sid. The real question is who killed her? Armaan or Sid? 


Spinoff Potential: First  the interrogation tapes are aired as an India forums exclusive. Then if a channel picks it up we carry on the show with Armaan and Sid in the slammer. Maybe we can have some Keller/Beecher action like Oz. 


The How I met your mother – The plot device of this hit comedy is amazing. It is hard to imagine that this wildly popular series is all about this one guy telling his kids how he met their mother. All these seasons and he has met a whole lot of people, but not the mother yet. While the show is fabulous, you wonder what does all this have to do with meeting the mother. Anyway, in our take on it DMG ends with Armaan and Sid telling their kids "And that is how we met your dear aunt Ridz". Bang! Kapow! She is just the Robin. A love interest, a friend but NOT THE MOTHER.

Spinoff potential: Stay tuned kids, because we still need to find out who the mother is. Hopefully, both Armaan's and Sid's kids have two separate mothers. But who knows….. 


The Lost Survivor- This one packs the power of two in one. Lost is just was one of those oh so intriguing mysterious shows, and we simply enjoy celebrities enduring torture of bugs and snakes in the wilderness. So why not end the series finale with a plane carrying all three leads crash on a desert island and leave them stranded.

Spinoff potential: We could make it a reality show with all three fighting for survival on that island. Who gets the girl? Why don't we do an old school battle? Whoever builds the hut, starts the fire, hunts the food and cooks the meal gets the girl. We could extend the battle for eternity.

The General Hospital – Ah G.H! The revered God of all hospital soaps!! There is nothing like G.H.  It probably started when our grandparents were conceived and is still going on. Their secret to their success is total drama. Like so totally drama. Armaan, Sid, and Riddhima all get into a massive car accident. Arnaan dies but not without donating his brain, heart, lungs and liver to Riddhima. But he is not totally gone, he is cryogenically frozen. Meanwhile, Sid survives  but his face is totally mangled. It is reconstructed with plastic surgery but now he looks like Armaan. Now SR and AR fans can be happy because we have a bizarre case of SARs. He looks like Armaan, talks like Armaan, acts like Armaan – but it really, really, really, really is Sid and you just don't ditch someone who went through all that trauma and surgery. Remember looks don't matter.

Spinoff Potential: Hey why spinoff? It never ends remember? Years down the line Riddhima dies of a new pandemic. A distraught Sid plans to bring her back to life. He grafts her remnants onto Armaan's cryogenically frozen body and then conducts Frankenstein like experiments to electrocute the AR mutant back to life. Now Sid and Riddhima are united and continue their love forever. But remember Sid looks like Armaan now and Riddhima is actually grafted onto Armaans cryogenically frozen body brought back to life. Its like a whole lot of Armaan on Armaan action, almost twincest if you will. It is SR, AR, AS, SS, AA everything you will all rolled in one. Now that's what I call awesome.

The above suggestions were written in good humor with the intention of bringing out a few laughs and hoping that people forget and set aside their petty bickering for a while and laugh at the whole absurdity of it all. Hopefully, people take it in the right spirit and no one is offended.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Story of the Thanksgiving Fast

This story was written a few months ago during Ramadan, while I pondered why Julia Roberts would Eat, Pray, Love but all our desi festivals appear to follow Fast,  Pray,Love, Eat, Eat, Eat  in that order.

History became legend, legend became myth.

Why we fast for Thanksgiving

In the year 2012 Mr and Mrs. X immigrated from India and were curious about Turkey. That Thanksgiving Mrs. X bought a whole turkey and decided to roast it. Since the 15 pound bird took five hours to roast and the new couple were anxious if their bird would be done right, they spent their time pacing in the kitchen restlessly. They fasted five + hours till the bird was done and carved.

Down the road the progeny of Mr. and Mrs. X realized that the whole Thanksgiving meal involves a lot of food and a lot of pigging out. To compensate and eat a bigger meal they decided to skip breakfast and lunch and dive straight into the meal when ready mid afternoon. They fasted all day till the bird was done.

Somewhere down the line their great grandchildren moved back to India. Since they did not have Turkeys in India the family ordered Turkey online. It was not good quality. Next year on they started raising their own Turkeys and slaughtering them. Somewhere down the line again Thanksgiving fell during Diwali, and prayers and offerings became a part of Thanksgiving.

Now here in the year 3012 Thanksgiving is a very auspicious religious holiday. The day begins with a suryanamaskar at dawn. You fast all day till dusk. At dusk the fast is broken by passing around a chalice of wine and Marie wafters are dipped and eaten. A ritual slaughter of a turkey is conducted, the blood is offered as sacrifice to Turkrani devi and the turkey is roasted. There is ritual chanting while the turkey is cooked to make the meat auspicious and various prasad like sweet potato pie, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes are offered to Turkrani devi. Once the Turkey is consumed the bones are washed, cleaned and carved into delicate snowflake shapes and hung in trees. The holy spirit of Turkrani devi resides in the bones and wards of evil spirits and protects families during harsh winter.

There is a temple for Turkrani devi in Plymouth MA. In the temple there is the holy rock of the devi with the numbers 1620 carved on it. This rock was set there that year by Turkrani devi opening a new world of opportunities to engineers and doctors from the subcontinent. A holy pilgrimage to the rock of Turkrani devi is recommended at least once in a lifetime. 

Saturday, November 20, 2010

The Sarc attack

Ah the internet, such a wonderful and beautiful thing. What would our world be without the wonderful worldwide web that ensnares and entangles the whole world together. One of the best things about the internet is anonymity. While we are people, we really are not people - we are merely electric signals, data traveling on the information superhighway, illuminated electrons on the screen. This anonymity and aura of masks and unknown identities lets us judge, make assumptions and make some very broad generalizations about morality and character.

Sarcasm is another beautiful thing. In the world of rhetoric, there is nothing that can achieve the lofty grounds of sarcasm. A bit of scathing sarcasm with a hint of disdain can pierce through hide, flesh and bone better than the sharpest powerful weapons known to man. I can testify to it, sarcasm is a rhetorical weapon I have much often used as my refuge. It is not the best or polite thing to do, sometimes it really is not nice - but sometimes sarcasm is an extremely effective tool that gets the point across.

Anyway I wanted to share a brilliant piece of sarcasm and more today. It is brilliant because it combines sarcasm with the beauty of internet and "electronic judgment". Actually even more brilliant because its directed against me (and some others). I made an argument proposing the legalization of prostitution on a forum. Yes it is a controversial stance and I'm prepared to bear the brunt of criticism and consequences. In fact I'd be taken aback if there was not a lynch mob waiting to stone me for such sacrilege. And I think I've run fairly close to what I feel is an "electronic lynch mob" with "electronic stones" pounding out my screen.

Here we go


Year: 2012
Month: December
Location: Divided Forums of Debate Mansion (DFDM) headquarters, Virtual World


Act 1, Scene1

President Shades is talking animatedly on the phone behind closed doors in her plush, masterfully designed, oval office overlooking the world famous fuzzy-logic museum located on the same block as the dreaded Nike sweatshops. 

Vice-president Zouro barges in.

President Shades, with an impatient wave of her hand, motions him to be seated in the comfort-filled executive leather high back chair with swivel tilt adjustments while she is wrapping up the phone call. For some strange reason, there is extreme disturbance in the air waves so Shades is practically shouting at this point.

"Oh puhlease. Spare me the moral frown down. I don't give a crap to what you think. I am the president and what I say goes around here. Destroy all the eggs immediately. I repeat, destroy all the eggs immediately. Why?! What do you mean why?! I don't need to tell a dang thing to your mask face, that's why. What? You insist?! The hell you do! Alright, then! Here goes. They cause periods and babies, dummy! Is that really hard to understand?! What? You say I myself was a baby too sometime back?! Listen, dunderhead! If I don't like caviar, does it mean I am going to destroy the fish? No, right?! What? What did you say? Me hating the eggs is not the same as me hating caviar? The equivalent would in fact be a fish hating the caviar? I can't hear you. Speak up. I said speak up and talk loudly. The real equivalent would be a fish hating the caviar because the caviar (sic) causes periods and babies in fish?! You know nothing, dunce! Now do what I say. End of this discussion!!!"

Slams the phone down and looks at the vice president with a deep frown on her face.

"Yeah?!"

Zouro: "I just came here to tell you that I really like you"

Shades < with much softer facial expressions>: "Awww! I like you too."

Zouro: "I like the way you talk. I like the way you write"

Shades: "I like the way you argue. I like the way you write"

Zouro: "Please complete this sentence for me. You like me because __________?"

Shades: "You argue well. Now, please complete this sentence for me. You like me because ________?"

Zouro: "You write well"

Couple of seconds go by. Awkward silence all around.

Shades, breaking the silence…"What of this fool, Mister.K?! He is threatening to publish a bunch of articles in his online syndicated column, on the plights of sex workers and exploited children working day and night in your sweatshops."

Zouro: "Well, I heard some of that too. Why don't we just dub his operations as 'Silly' and close down his syndicated column? Haven't we done that in the past? Didn't we pass an ordinance to that effect? That whatever is not up to our standards and whatever we deem is not silly is what is officially pronounced and treated as viable? Everything else is silly"

Shades: "I am afraid we can't do that. The masses seem to like him"

with a menacing look, completely antagonized by now> "I remember I told that fool to mind his damn business the last time he tried to meddle in my private affairs. See, how I conduct my business in my sweatshop is my prerogative, not his. If I want to employ underage children and make them work 12 hours a day with minimum wages and no health benefits, by Jove, I will do it. How am I wrong? Matter of fact, those children should be kissing the ground I walk on. They should appreciate that I am a generous guy who is resplendently considerate and empathetic. I am doing them all a huge favor and this is the thanks I get? Without my sweatshop, they wouldn't even have a job. What do they know about supply and demand? They hardly attended kindergarten…"

 Shades: "Hey, hey, hey!!! Calm down please. Be that as it may, my concern has more to do with how he is going to portray the so-called plights of these sex workers. Looks like he has gathered some stats on how millions of despondent children and women are being forced into prostitution all over the world. Looks like he has garnered key figures on how these wretched people are abused, beaten, raped, maimed, physically and psychologically battered, left to die on the streets with sexually transmitted diseases, and in some instances murdered brutally. He is saying this is all WRONG. I don't get it. He is hopping mad. He says women's bodies are not commodities like pork and beef. He is denouncing the whole service sector analogy of yours in the strongest possible terms. He asks what next, if we are going to brand women (sic) with AGMARK seals. He asks if we are going to establish a consumer complaint center like the Better Business Bureau so the Johns of this world could dial in and vent. He is saying we have no sense of right and wrong. He is going on and on. He is a madcap, I tell you."

Zouro <nonchalantly, with zero emotion>: "I fail to understand what all the hoopla is about. It's just sex between two consenting adults"

Shades: "I agree! You are telling me!!! But who will tell that fool, K, to see it our way? He is asking some very inconvenient questions. He is essentially saying that if people go by our rationale, even sex between 'consenting' siblings wouldn't not be considered immoral. Dowry wouldn't be considered illegal because, it's between 'consenting' parties"

Zouro: "I don't see anything wrong with any of that. As long as the transaction is transparent and the deal is between 'consenting'..."

Shades (cutting in): "I know. I know. Consenting adults. But what if STDs erupt and go out of control?"

Zouro: "Helllllllllllloooooooooooo!!!! Ever heard of condoms?"

Shades: "Well, looks like that didn't help and is not helping because people are still dying of AIDS and other fatal infections contracted sexually. Tell me one thing. What if babies are born to these sex workers with birth defects? Wait! Wait! I know what to do. We will just kill them. I am an overt proponent of that. You can find my award winning thesis on this subject somewhere in the annals. Aren't you an expert at digging out the record books and finding the appropriate files?"

Zouro: "That I am, but how about this? We could employ those people, born with birth defects as a result of unprotected sex with multiple partners, in my sweatshop as soon as they grow up a little. I think we could wait till they turn 5 or 6. There is a demand for good shoes you know"

Shades: "Of course!!! You are such a generous man! I like the way you think"

Zouro: "I like the way you think too"

Shades: ""Please complete this sentence for me. You like me because __________?"

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!

Before the vice president could complete his sentence, the Mayan prediction came true.

End of the friggin' world.

Luckily.
If it is not evident I'm Shades in this creative saga. I'm not sure what it stands for S(tupid)hades or s(lut)hades or s(ick)hades. I'm going to take it as S(uper)hades or S(pecial)hades. Zouro is another male member of the forum. Most sarcasm merely mocks your intelligence. It takes some ridiculous statement you made and calls you out on it so that you want to crawl under a rock. But the brilliancy of this piece that compels me to share it is that it goes above and beyond your everyday sarcasm. It does not stop at merely pointing out the fact that I have "fuzzy logic" or have the inability to make a point.

I think it is brilliant how a Midwestern hick, bleeding heart hippie liberal ends up with a plush fancy office in the same vicinity as the Nike sweatshop. Forget crawling under a rock, I'm perturbed if I should stop idealizing Blake Mycoskie as an entrepreneur all business aspirants should look up to for inspiration. I'm now all messed up and confused if I'm a bleeding heart liberal (commie bloody commie) or a ruthless capitalist king pin.

Well my confusion does not end at economics. I'm portrayed as fawning over my male vice president, you know softening up my expressions for him, talking sweet nothings of how we are so totally in awe with each other. I've been literally scratching my head going nuts trying to figure when exactly I portrayed such fawning and affection towards my vice-president this time. In fact we actually were at each others throats in some debates of the past. Is this some fucked up 1984 like situation - love is war type of thing. Or am I just sending the wrong kind of signals - cause this cross connection could be a really big problem.

But it gets better and better. Apparently I am evil sadistic scum who thinks it is alright to abuse, beat, rape, maim, psychologically and physically batter or even brutally murder women and children. I supposedly consider women as commodities and will be all for tattooing them with some brand names just like the Nazis did to the Jews in concentration camp. Ain't this whole internet thing grand. You can just brand someone you don't even know as sadistic, criminal, sexually abusive, Neo Nazi scum for having a different opinion. I really like this kind of magical powers, but seriously its making things really complicated. So now I am not supposed to cry or shed tears over disturbing episodes or think of womens rights, protecting innocent children, literally having my gut wrenched for the trafficked humans, sex slaves and abused immigrants. I'm not allowed to be soft like that anymore, I'm supposed to be getting off on it.

All this confusion and change is way too much for me to handle. I can't change myself so drastically just because I support a controversial viewpoint. How am I to change my soul to a black abyss for fulfilling the end of world prophecy? This is so hard to take. Anyway, I should not be letting some "electronic stones" bother me so much.

Although, I have to add just in case

Dear Mariska,

I am a huge fan of Law & Order: SVU. Your show has changed me. It has opened my eyes to a scary terrifying world, my naive eyes never knew. I've learned empathy for victims of some of the worlds most heinous crimes and their families. I've learned that the law is not black and white, but with many shades of gray and sometimes we need to go above or below the law for justice. SVU has inspired me to genuinely think beyond myself in terms of sex crimes.

I'm not sure what your stance on legalizing prostitution is. You could be for or against it. No I am not for prostitution. However based on research and putting together facts, I am in favor of legalizing it. I feel legalizing it is the lesser of the two evils in our world. Hopefully, this controversial opinion will not cause you to think less of me, lest we happen to meet someday. When I am successful enough I would like to donate time and money to your Joyful Heart Foundation. I also plan to work for Human Rights Campaign as an advocate someday. In fact I have made a pack with the powers that be, If I ever win a lottery of a million dollars or more, or start making that amount an annual salary only 25% will be mine. 25% is for our animal friends and mother nature who cannot speak for themselves. 25% will be donated for children's charities around the world and the remaining 25% is for HRC and organizations such as yours - for victims of hate crimes and abuse. Inshallah, I might get there someday.

PS: You may cuff me and slam me to the slammer anytime. I don't mind you punishing me for any of my opinions.

Alright now that business is taken care of I would like to share just a few more sarc and misc attack gems for entertainment purposes.

One doesn't need proficiency to use Google to look for stats. One only needs rudimentary skills in keying in the right search words and get instantaneous access to tons of information; information that is staggering and heart wrenching at the same time.   Of course, the scum would deliberately ignore the reality, as they have repeatedly done in the past.

To those interested: http://www.dreamcenter.org/new/images/outreach/RescueProject/stats.pdf

Out of the estimated 4 - 27 million people who are trafficked, 1 million are children exploited by the global commercial sex trade.

Allow me to put the rest of the trafficked "adults" on hold for the time being and focus on the children.

1 million children!!!! Somebody's young son, somebody's young daughter, somebody's little brother, somebody's little sister, taken to strange lands, given strange food, getting poked by strangers multiple times a day, crying themselves to sleep everyday, day after day, thinking about "back home", thinking about their parents, their siblings and their friends. Imagine just for a moment, just for a teeny tiny slice of your time, what they go through. Imagine what their loved ones go through.

Question (because we are still "debating") is do these children come under the "consenting adults" category? Question (because we are still "debating") is does this pass the litmus test of morality?

When these children grow up and become "full-time" sex workers, because their fate is sealed, hope turned bleak and they continue doing what they are doing, uneducated, not having instilled with the right values, not having access to any knowledge-base to distinguish right from wrong, resigned to their circumstances, still under the control of the organized crime ruling them with an iron hand, would they then come under the "consenting adults" category?

How prudent is it to draw a circle with a radius close to zero around an event and look at that event with a myopic vision and pass judgment? What behooves the responsible citizens? Look at the crime trail leading all the way to the red light districts and beyond or go to the red light districts, pay the pimp, have sex with the prostitute who didn't make a peep and accept it as consent?
Hmm, I never knew I proposed legalizing human trafficking and child pornography/prostitution.  In fact in one argument I clearly proposed reallocating vice resources to focus on sex crimes against minors.

The problem decent, conscientious human beings face when conversing with or attempting to converse with, criminals, crooks, felons, thieves, debauchers and their ilk is that the decent, conscientious human beings will automatically be christened as moral police by the criminals, crooks, felons, thieves, debauchers and their ilk, in a misguided attempt at slinging mud.

Fair enough. If they are aiding, abetting, indulging in activities that would be met with disapproval from the law and/or by their own people, dabbling in behavior that gets them closer and closer to the law and/or breaks their carefully constructed social image, when they realize that eventually they will get their comeuppance, everyone looks like a cop to them. What they don't realize is that being called a cop or being hailed as the moral police is not necessarily a bad thing. It is not something to be ashamed about. On the other hand, one would think, to be a person with no scruples, to be devoid of morals is something to be thoroughly embarrassed about. To be a hair's breadth away from messing up big time because they are being "guided" by their own of set of erroneous morals and not by the trifled moral police should worry them to no end.

Explaining the concept of morals to immoral people is like explaining the concept of color to a blind person. You could put it in a million words, read the definitions out loud, give examples but none of that will make any sense to them. They just don't know what it is "like" to have morals.

Here's the thing: if you have the capacity to reason, you would know what is moral and what is not. You would know what is just and what is not. If you don't know how to reason, at least rely on what the previous philosophers opined on this matter. Follow their reasoning methods to understand why prostitution is a social evil, why it is demeaning to women, and how it encourages slave trading.

Coming to legalization, the notions of morality and law are extremely tightly coupled. Don't scoff at morals and dismiss them with a hand wave foolishly. The law is supposed to reflect the basic principles of conduct (read morals) the society has accepted. So, if a society comprises of 200 people out of who 100 are clients and 100 are willing prostitutes, they could technically legalize prostitution. Heck, they could do anything they want, who cares?! But when it comes to countries it's a different ball game altogether. People can bitch and moan all they want but it's the stance of the government that matters.

I am personally glad that in US (except in Sin City), buying and selling of sexual "services" is still illegal and hope it remains that way. I am glad that the principles of conduct at the larger scale in this country are still not contaminated.

As for India, it looks like organized prostitution is still illegal which is a saving in disgrace. Looks like they tried to amend the Immoral Traffic Prevention Act   (emphasis on Immoral) in an attempt to criminalize the clients (Johns) but failed to do so. Hopefully they will succeed the next time they try to amend it. Hopefully they will do what Sweden is doing to the clients and the pimps.
Uff me and people on my side of the debate are criminals, crooks, felons, thieves, debauchers, indecent human beings with no morals. Isn't it so totally classy and conscientious to creatively typecast people you have never even met?

Hell of a time you picked to grow some balls son. Just when I have all the time in the universe to dedicate myself to this thread to thwart and destroy garbage. Human garbage that is.

I have seen better looking turds floating in my toilet bowl than the crap you post on this board, time and again. I chose to ignore your crap only because it's just harmless crap. But now this has gone too far. These threads could leave indelible impressions on young minds and I can't let scum corrupt young minds. I draw  a line there.

So now the garbage has stooped to attacking friends and family directly? Why is that not surprising? Oh! Because they are garbage?!

See, in all your posts leading up to my first reply on this thread, you never mentioned trafficking. You never mentioned children. You only exhibited your astounding naivety by always bringing up consenting individuals. Me along with at least 3 or 4 more people on this thread debunked that myth. So now to face save, you are kinda, just kinda, condemning prostitution involving children. Too late. You have been exposed for who you are and what you are.

To answer the highlighted text in red, consider if you could get this logic. If you don't, please don't be afraid to ask questions. I will oblige you. See, in our world, prostitution wouldn't even exist because we completely abolish it. So no question of our kith or kin taking up that profession. On the other hand, in your world, prostitution is a thriving business aided and abetted by immoral people such as yourself. So, in that world, what Angie asked is a perfectly valid question. So I will repeat the question myself: Would you let your daughter or sister or mother get into this profession because you see nothing wrong as long as as a)they are willing and b) they are willing (yeah! I know. Same option repeated)
This one is not directed to me at the fellow Zouro from the beginning. But the crass references to toilet bowls and turd was a surefire classic. I mean Borat would be hard pressed to come up with crasser ways to refer and talk to people.

Ain't the internet a beautiful place?

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Celebrating Aria

Sometimes I feel cold, cold to the bone like being consumed by a slow gripping fever, cold especially in the heart. It is like a blow to my guts knocking all the air out of my lungs, leaving me gasping. A week has passed on and I’m in a better place. Life goes on, happier and cheerful things fill the horizon. However, every now and then I cry, not knowing why I cry. I keep praying for forgiveness, not knowing whom I am praying to and for what. Life goes on and it will be better, I know.

Have you ever experienced true and unconditional love? With all due respect to the beautiful humane bonds people share, you’ve probably never experienced something as blissful and divine unless you’ve owned a dog. I’ve been there done that. Human relations fade and change with times, we take people for granted, wittingly unwittingly we act in our selfish interests. Love, yes we humans experience great and unparallel love. But true and unconditional love is something only our canine best friends can offer.  

So it was with Aria. For almost four years she showered me every day with that true unconditional love and devotion, with all the uncanny loyalty, companionship and faithfulness God seems to have blessed dog with. I joke about it, but sometimes I do wonder – is dog just an anagram for God, for the presence of dog can certainly make one’s life turn from mundane to divine.

Aria was a good dog, nay great, fantabulous, awesome, the bestestest, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious dog ever and doggone it nobody who knew her can deny what an electrifying full of energy bundle of joy she was. She was a magical creature, truly she was. Before her my life was mundane, boring, less than ordinary. Then out of a blue, on my whim, she was there and she turned my life upside down. She taught me to care, she taught me to be responsible, she taught me respect and a whole lot of other stuff I thought I knew, but apparently had no freaking clue about. Most importantly she made me move, she made me play, she made me laugh and reminded me over and again of that little kid forever hidden within.

Life with Aria has been nothing but incredible. Who can forget that excited, exuberant welcome home even when you were gone for just five  minutes? How can you not look into those dewy brown eyes and feel like the most blessed person on earth?

She was a one funny and interesting dog. That goofy grin of a face and those long floppy ears that made her look like Jar Jar Binks. That baying like a wolf that you hated, loved to hate, but loved incredibly nonetheless. The love for belly rubs and the ten million funny spots she had all over. That weird ummmrrrrrrm as she blissfully enjoyed a full body scratch down. How she loved vegetables and picked spinach and cheese over meat. How she went crazy over pill pockets. How she was slowly and sneakily stretched till she almost pushed you off the couch. How she would stealthily cuddle with Lucky when no one was around. How she sat on the deck hours meditating. Her uncanny ability to always lose her bone into someplace impossible to get into. Her ill luck of always getting hurt, sick or bitten and her fighting spirit to bounce right back like nothing ever happened. Each and every bit of her quirky habits was nothing but pure joy.

Of course the best moments that I will cherish forever were our two hour plus walks, wandering and exploring the nearby parks and trails, savoring every bit what the bright Wisconsin springs and summers have to offer. Laying on park benches or the grass watching the skies roll by. Or just those lazy days chilling at home on the couch. Heck, I think I will even cherish those moments when she would not let me sleep at night or sleepy walks at 2 Am because she had an upset tummy. In fact every memory of Aria will be a joyous celebration of the bond between man and canine. After all she was my little baby and angel. 

The rundown:

On Sunday October 23rd Aria showed unusual possessive aggressiveness over food.

On Tuesday October 25th she bit my grandmother (mom’s mom). Unlike ever before, I was unable to calm or control her. Took her to the emergency vet, they said nothing was physically wrong.

On Wednesday October 26th I rushed home from work because she showed unusual aggressive behavior. Took her to the regular vet, same prognosis. Scheduled an appointment with a behaviorist over the weekend. That night things went crazy. She bit my grandfather (mom’s dad), then my mom who tried to protect him. I came to help and got her sitting, but she would not stop snarling and barking. She was uncontrollable. I could not hold her forever. In the process of removing her from the room, I was bitten.

On Thursday October 27th I made the emotionally gut wrenching and difficult decision of surrendering Aria. Against my inner nature I chose my human interests and family over Aria. Had it been just me alone or even me and mom/sister we would have kept her. Unfortunately, with elderly people living in the house, people who are unfamiliar with Aria, who cannot discipline and control Aria – I could not risk anyone else being hurt due to her. It was not right. Even with a behaviorist, I doubt others in my family had the time, energy and commitment to tame a beast of a dog. I had to do what seemed right for my family.
I chose not to know what happened with her. Best case scenario she is on a farm somewhere running wildly chasing rabbits, howling with the wind, with no one to care. Worst case and perhaps most realistic scenario, she gently and peacefully drifted into eternal slumber. All dogs go to heaven and perhaps she is living the best case scenario up there somewhere. The good thing is now there is one more good reason to actually look forward to the end of life, and gosh darn it change that one way ticket to hell to a better destination.

Regrets, resentments, anger, frustration, sadness, fondness, memories, joy, happiness, optimism, hope – it’s a muddled haze of emotions and I’m slowly finding my way through. I’ll get there. I’ve not told anyone or talked much about it, other than work where I had to. My sister and mom have done most of the telling and talking. I’ve always been just that emotional wreck kind of kid who simply cannot grow up and handle tough situations and emotions. Just a lost little child who is like hold me and comfort me. Love me and tell me that I have not failed. Please distract me and make me happy again, help me in my commitment to celebrate not mourn.

Silence pierces and screams aloud. Chaos might be hard to deal with, but its really silence that can consume from within. There are miles and miles to be walked before silence slowly transcends into tranquility. I've lived and learned. Now I know why some people cherish their wounds and rather let them bleed. My wounds are healing way to quickly for me. Sometimes when all is said and done, your physical wounds are all that is left of cherished memories. Your wounds are the only way to hold someone you love. Its not pain, but happiness and love. I at least hope to see some scars forever, yep just like that goofy sprained knee that acts up now and then.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

The Scoop on some Poop

As you might figure this blog post is about poop. Not just any poop, dog poop to be precise. My dog Aria's poop to be even more precise. But to think it is only about poop would be foolish. In fact it is much more than poop, far beyond than any poop canine or human. It is about something deeply profound that touches our life in magical ways.

So here is the story. Friday night I took my dog Aria out for a walk. It was just another hour long leisurely walk as usual. The only difference is that our fall walks take place in the dark. The sun sets early these days and I'm not used to walking well before 7:30 PM. During the summer this means walking in bright vibrant sunshine with the sun up in the sky in all its glory. These days it means catching the final wispy rays of sunlight and bidding adieu to the soft orange glow in the horizon, then walking under the stars.

Most of my walk is in civilization. I live in Wisconsin though, on the far western outskirts of Mad Town. That means there are those stretches in my walk which tend to pass open undeveloped areas. That means undeveloped areas without street lights. If you are a dog owner you probably guessed by now, that it is in this rural middle of nowhere pitch black darkness they like to poop. If you are a responsible dog owner like me you grope about, hand in plastic bag, slithering through unmowed grassy overgrowth to get to that poop.

If you have technology then you probably try to use the ineffective soft glow from your cell phone. It is helpful in highlighting all the odd shapes and forms of objects laying in the grass. However, it is quite ineffectual in separating turd from stone. Not anymore friends. No longer am I dependent on outdated technology.

As soon as my dog pooped in the dark, I whipped out my Droid X, a sexy beast of a phone. I went to the market place on Verizon's super cool 3G network. I downloaded DroidLight and MaxFlash, two awesomely free applications within seconds on super fast 3G. DroidLight lets me use my camera flash as a powerful LED light, while MaxFlash turns my screen into a bright flashlight.

Technology makes me a God amidst mortals. There maybe darkness all around, but I can say "Let there be light". With a wave of my Droid and a few taps, there will be light. I create light in darkness. I illuminate souls in the darkness. I am empowered to see clearly and scoop up the poop.

Technology is such a profound and beautiful thing. I hope your life has been touched by my life changing experience. Through my words, I hope you too can share the calling of higher powers (Droid) and share connectivity something larger and better than us (3G networks). Amen!

Friday, September 3, 2010

Remember the Titanic?


In April 1912 the seemingly innocuous state of water, otherwise known as Ice declared war against humanity in one of that decades most heinous acts of terror. With cold steely resolve an iceberg ripped a hole in the hull of the behemoth sized ship, sinking the unsinkable ship on its maiden voyage.

Unfortunately, we never learned from the Titanic. We callously continue the abhorrent use of ice-cubes in our drinks, without any regards for the tragedy of the Titanic. How can we forget the mayhem caused by the worst ice-cubes in history? It may not have been a conventional ice-cube, and might have been a bit of a rogue ice-cube to say. But in the end it was a giant evil ice-cube, with all the properties of ice-cube.

If the tragedy of the Titanic is not enough, Ice has slowly spread its wings of terror. Every winter, suicide icicles jump from buildings attacking innocent walkers on the street. Ice pelts from the skies and destroys our homes, crops and properties. It stealthily spreads across the surface of the roads sliding to unwitting drivers to gruesome ends. Ice is an intelligent and stealthy operator, often cutting of power and lines of communication when people need it the most. Every year the terror of ice claims so many lives.

No more I say, no more. It is time we put our foot down and stop cozying up to these little squares of pure evil. There is always more hidden to a ice-cube below the surface. Who knows what the cubes have in mind? Of course the cubes in my freezer had nothing to do with the Titanic, but the question still remains - why me, why my drinks? I mean do we really need ice cubes when there are other ways to chill drinks - like in a refrigerator? Should the industry have not died by now? It really makes me very suspicious of companies that make and sell ice cubes and ice trays.

I also move for Iceland and Vanilla Ice to change their names. Especially Iceland, the Titanic sank suspiciously close to this country that has "Ice" in its name, even though we know that its actually "Green"land that has more Ice. Why this suspicious love for Ice? Global Warming is one way to fight back and destroy the ice.

Friday, August 20, 2010

When the Heathen Fasts (Conclusions)

So for seven days I have observed a fast similar to that what Muslims keep during Ramdan. I cannot call it the Ramadan fast as I am not Muslim, and I am sure I may have not kept it properly under their prescription. However, I did it as strictly as possible. No food or water from dawn to dusk. In fact I've been keeping the fast longer than I need to in my area. Muslims typically have a morning session of eating and praying before starting the fast and a prayer when they end the fast. There was no way I could wake up for a morning prayer, I've been skipping the prayer aspect completely though. So I have been surviving on one square meal a day. I've also been avoiding other things that would be frowned upon like pwp fiction and that jazz.

I did not keep the fast for religious reasons. I most definitely did not keep it to mock or belittle the fasts of others and hopefully no one assumes that. My reasons for fasting were personal. On a whim, it was an experience I wanted to put my body through. I wanted to see what sort of resolve and abilities I had. Also as someone who does not believe in fasting, I wanted to see if the human spirit could sustain a heathen.  

Here are my daily experiences:

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7

Conclusions:

For the longest time I perceived the Ramadan fast as cruel and unusual. No food or water was a pretty strong expectations - especially the no water aspect. Most Hindu fasts do not expect absolute abstinence, but abstinence from most lavish foods. They prescribe a very light frugal diet. I've always been a major foodie. So the thought of no full square meals of the day was really down for me. But more than food I love water. I drink water all the time. I'm bored - I drink water. In fact I used to drink so much water that people would joke that if they sliced me water would flow instead of blood.

Anyway, I sustained the fast for seven days and could perhaps do more. The fast is by no means cruel. Unusual, definitely yes. But it is doable. I kept it on one meal a day. With a morning meal and plenty of morning water it should be doable up to 18-20 hours in my estimate. Children, sick and elderly are not expected to fast. I do hope they give due consideration of those hacking and chocking on their own spittle consideration. The tickle in the throat, the niggling cough made it worst for me. However, health is a caveat. Regular eating is the key to good health. A fast maybe an exception - but after the fast people should go back to normal healthy eating. Not undereating - nor pigging out to compensate.

What a fast does -

  • It instill discipline
  • It helps you discover resolve and mental strength you never had
  • It makes you appreciate food
  • It makes you appreciate what thirst and hunger feels like and empathize with those who have less
  • Weight loss (only if you stick to healthy eating after. Also my family does not celebrate this month. So my end of fast meal was very ordinary everyday food, except Chinese one day)
  • Makes you sleepy all faster
  • Upsets your tummy, its more the lack of water that causes digestive issues. It could also be a me thing as I am highly dependent on water.
  • For some reason it really boosts self respect
  • It creates deeper understanding into fasts kept by others
  • It helps you treat other fasters with respect and discipline, rather than pity or shock.

What it does not do -

(Of course this is from the perspective of a heathen)

It does not you holier or a better person
It does not express love or devotion. This is a purely physical endeavor. Love and devotion are of the mind and need to be ingrained in consciousness.
It does not connect one with God or the force. Again it is a physical endeavor and one needs to tap into spirit and consciousness to accomplish this.
It does not make one calmer. In fact it makes one more irritable.
People cite health benefits etc. I am yet to see. My sleep patterns, mood and other things have indeed been messed up. It also could be since I am a first timer. 
Fasting most definitely does not improve relationships, those need other efforts on part of people.
Fasting most definitely is not a way to say I love you or extend the life or loved ones.
Fasting most definitely does not get you good karma or heaven brownie points. Its a pure physical endeavor of will and for this you genuinely need to be a good person.

The Dark Lord's Prescription -

As a heathen I cannot mandate fast for any reason. Religious fasting like Ramadan or for love like Karva chauth is up to free will and what people believe. However, I do recommend that everyone try such fasting at least a few days every year. It is a unique experience in self awareness.

The other emotional and spiritual aspects of my fast are between me and the force.

When the Heathen Fasts (Day 7)

Today was the last and final day of my adventures in heathen fasting. I've completed the week with much more ease than I expected. I would love to take it day by day and see if I can stick to a month. Unfortunately, I visit family and have a wedding this weekend. So it is end of fast time for me. Besides I am a heathen beginner. Things ought to be small baby steps for me. Maybe a week, ten days, a fortnight - then a month. A year in the future? Now I guess that would be too much.

As usual, I did not wake up for the early morning eating. So I ran the day on my Nutella breakfast from 11 PM last night. Today was all preparation for the weekend getaway. Dropped the dog off, went downtown and had my ID card made, bought school text books, bought shoes and then went to the grocery store.

My nani wanted cheese singles for my nana. So I had to embark on a mission to the grocery store. Now I love snacks like jerky, go insane at the scent of coffee and as a Wisconsinite go bonkers over cheese. Usually grocer store outings are peppered with impulse buys of something to try or something to taste. However, this is the new me. A fasting me. A fast fasting me who is fast learning will power and strength I never had. I was amble to casually amble through the store and pick out the cheese I needed. I craved A&W Root beer, they make it with real vanilla. I've developed this whole new affinity for A&W Root Beer and Cream Soda. So I bought a large bottle and went home. Normally, I would crack open and chug down cold soda right away, but today - I just popped it in the refrigerator and went about to other business.

Lounged around a bit, packed my bags, kept thinking of random things to carry and shoved them in. I planned to mow the lawn but it rained, so that put a dampener on the plans. Now I will have to mow on Tuesday when we get back.

Anyway the rest of the evening was uneventful. I spent some time online and then some more packing and some stuff to pass the time till 8:15 and then I broke the fast. The best thing was that I got to drink my root beer during dinner. Ah cold vanilla sweetened root beer. Nothing like it. And when you have waited - it tastes a whole lot better. I don't need my breakfast at 11 PM today as I will be eating from tomorrow onwards. But I will drink tons of water. This has been quite an experience.

Lessons from Day 7

1) 24 hour grocery stores are a great idea. I wonder if the ancient faster went to grocery stores during their fast? Whatever did they do on sample Sundays?
2) Root Beer is always worth the wait
3) After 6 days the fast gets really boring. As in you have become immune to almost every temptation and nothing makes you feel awesomely powerful as you bleh away all potential crave creators. I wonder if this will last a while.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

When the Heathen Fasts (Day 6)

Today by far was perhaps the most difficult and challenging day of my fasting endeavor. When I began the day I did not know if I had the resolve to go through with it. It is unlike anything I have ever done before. As a major foodie who loves food, it is not in my nature to resist offerings of food. However, by the end of the day I had discovered will power and resolve, I never knew I had.

Well they were serving pizza at work today. All the office staff and farm staff were going to be there. Initially, I had planned to skip it and just take a nap in my car. Then I was asked to join the luncheon. I politely declined saying, I was not eating. Surprisingly, I was not asked why. They simply asked would I please join with them at the table since it was a company event. So I did.

There was lemonade, iced tea and my latest craving root beer. The tables were set out and pizza boxes all laid out. Cheese lovers, peperoni, meat lovers and veggie delite. The smell of fresh baked pizza was surrounding me in all directions. I sat at a table watching people devour pizza, having seconds and thirds. Normally I cannot resist the scent of pizza. It drives me nuts. I have to open the box right away and start munching. Strangely even though I was hungry, I experienced no cravings, desires, temptations or pangs. It was just like sitting and having an ordinary conversation. I was nonchalant and carefree. I could watch dozens of people eat and drink all around me - and I just went about with normal business.

I still took my afternoon siesta after the luncheon. It was hot again, so I was literally dripping in sweat by the time I was done. Took another nap when I got home and again went on a late walk. So it was almost 9 again by the time I was eating again. Actually, I figured I have been keeping the fast a good 15-20 minutes longer than I need to. I was going by southern sunset times instead of local. Silly me. Considering that, the past two days have been at least an hour more than I need to. Oh well, its been an interesting experience.

Lessons from Day 5

1) Waffle sandwich with Nutella is the best thing ever. I am not sure why breakfast places here are not serving it up yet. I feel my survival these days has been solely due to the filling, delicious and nutritious Nutella breakfasts late night.
2) Truly: Where there is a will - there is a way. I am discovering determination and resolve I never knew I had.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

When the Heathen fasts (Day 5)

Day five on the whole was uneventful. By this time it is almost as if fasting is a lifestyle. I won't make a tall claim that I could do it for a month or more. But I think if I did it day by day, I actually have some discipline in me for being a heathen. You get used to it. The only thing I am not getting used to is feeling as if a skunk died in my mouth. I've been using Listerine, and rinsing with water frequently at work. It should be fine I hope.

Work was uneventful. Not eating or drinking is no biggie. I crave Cream Soda at times but it dissipates quickly, I'm learning that self control. The only eventful thing at work was crashing my computer and moving to a different cube. It kept my mind occupied too. Now I also look forward to lunchtime which I spend a good hour sleeping in my car. Its awesome.

The only challenge was having to cook a meal today. Since my sister is not fasting and she was coming home from work late, I was supposed to make spaghetti. I actually procrastinated hoping she would help me as I am hopeless in the kitchen. But she came roaring like a hungry lion and charged like a raging bull. So I quickly set to work. Put the water to boil, put the meatballs to roast, heated the sauce, put the pasta in. Then came the time to test if the pasta was done. My sister was biting my head off over it. So in one moment of complete slip of the mind while addressing her, I held a spaghetti to my mouth and bit it. But I immediately stopped myself and took it from my mouth. I't was a teeny bite, no taste, no consumption. I then decided to check pasta doneness with only my fingers. The sauce was tantalizing and meatballs sizzling. I however, was unmoved. I cleared the counters, swept the kitchen and took the dog for a walk.

It was almost 7:45 when I went for a walk today. That meant I came back at 8:45 almost. I thought to myself, hey - I might be able to do the fasts till 9 too maybe someday. I had my waffles and nutella sandwich snack at 11, so there is again some yummy in my belly. I sip on hot green tea all the time on the PC to soothe my throat from the lack of relief all day. I wonder if consuming Dayquill is allowed during the fast - it would maybe help me from annoying my coworkers.

Tomorrow will be a tough day. They are getting pizza at noon. It will be weird to say I am fasting, cos religiously I am not even supposed to be fasting. I also have to politely decline a lunch offer for Friday.

Lessons from Day 5

1) It is no wonder Italians really never jumped on any fasting brigade. How else are you supposed to tell if your pasta is done.
2) I'm really curious as to what they did back in the day with no Listerine or disposable finger toothbrushes.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

When the Heathen fasts (Day 4)

I'm not sure if the days seem to get longer or shorter as this week of fasting is progressing for me. At least the unusual experiences like extreme hunger pangs, thirst or choking on spittle is seemingly reducing. Not that I do not experience this. In fact my tummy still rumbles, the throat still feels parched - but by now its like, its supposed to be that way - like an everyday occurrence - normal.

One big advantage I think the Muslim community has over me is that they are not doing this alone. Its a collective effort. They don't have people tantalizing them. If so at least their family is in on this endeavor. Either way I survived another day of fasting while working. It is challenging, but its working out like c'est la vie.

However, I was hacking again and my coworkers said that its time for some tea. I worked hard and suppressing that scratchy feeling in my throat. Then another coworker made popcorn and offered it. Yum, hot buttery popcorn, the scent of it wafting through the air. No matter where I walked it seems the scent molecules had spread around to do a shock and awe attack on me to break my resolve. The results baffle me. Under normal circumstances, even on a full belly after a big meal, I would have pounced on a bag and grabbed myself a fistful of golden yellow kernels to devour. But I just went back to work and somehow shut down that part of the brain that transmitted the delicious scents. I had made a commitment and was going to stick to it. But still with no faith to believe in, no reward to expect, no one to appreciate the efforts, no one to respect the fast, nothing - what possibly could a heathen like me find strength in?

I was tested again at home. My sister brought fried fish for dinner. Crisp golden catfish for herself and some large juicy fried scallops for me. Along with that a side piled high with hot French fries. Eat it now, she advised, eat it now while its hot and crispy. I leaned forward and sniffed, I sifted my fingers through the mound of fries. I cannot I replied with resolve. It will be disgusting cold, she said. I'll warm it in the oven, I told her.

Then she pointed that the sun was not visible. The timing is till 8:15 I explained. Then she gave me a point to ponder. When Mohammad was around, he stopped when the sun was no longer there - he had no meteorologists to tell him what the precise times were. Hmm for a lay person with no knowledge of meteorology, the overcast skies hiding the sun - would probably have meant dusk. Who knows. I still stuck to my resolve and took my dog out and basked in the cool glory of nature. At 8 as I was closing to home, I saw the sky change hues under the setting sun. Aha its dusk only when the sky changes itself to a dazzling display of evening colors.

I was strangely full on the scallops and chips. I did not have my late night breakfast of nutella and waffles today. Just some bread. I'm consuming a bottle of water again before sleeping to be hydrated. Three more days to go. I'm actually feeling mighty proud of myself.

Lessons from Day 4

1) There really is power in numbers and the crowd phenomenon. It is just easier to do what everyone else is doing. It is not easy to be the only one doing something.
2) I wonder how much technology and ritual can go together. The point is the ancients did not have meteorology or technology, they relied on instinct and understanding of nature. As humans we have lost touch with nature to a certain extent. I guess intentions are in the right place.

Monday, August 16, 2010

When the Heathen fasts (Day 3)

Today was the big day. I could not escape food cravings by sleeping most of the day. I had to be at work at 8 Am, stay there for 9 hours and not crave food or water. I had to endure an hour lunch, and find how to spend it without eating. I had to speak with coworkers and customers till my mouth ran dry and not drink water.

The first few hours were easy. They did not refill the candy bowl so that was good. Then after a few customer calls my mouth went dry. My water bottle stood there in front of me and flirted "Hello there, want to get wet with me. Hmm delicious lick your lips water. You want to press your lips and my rim and slowly sip on the goodness inside". I'm not sure where I mustered the strength from, but I picked it up and shoved it behind the phone out of my sight. My digits did not slip even once to caress the opening.

I spent my lunch time online and took a nap in my car. In retrospect the nap was too short. I should have skipped IF and spent the entire hour napping. I somehow survived the remaining day and the drive home. Coming home, I twiddled online some more till it was time to take the dog out. It was another gorgeous day outside with cool climate and breeze. Its funny how after some sweltering heat and head advisories the days have gotten pleasant again. I swear I had no idea the weather was supposed to be so kind this week.

I'm still suffering with the hacking cough. They are already saying "Off with my head" at work. Without some hot tea to sip all day the throat is creating a real ruckus. Then there is this issue with the mouth going stale. I don't know if food and water cleanse the palate or something and keep it fresh. I feel as if my mouth is going stale faster on the fast. In fact my mouth felt so stale and bitter, that I went to the restroom several times and rinsed and cleaned my tongue.

Lessons from Day 3

1) They should consider combining maun vrat with this fast. Talking gives one a dry mouth. So if you are abstinent from water - don't talk. Another reason to love the internet, the ability to talk without dry mouth.
2) I wonder if they have some prescription for stale mouth - like a mint leaf  you can chew and spit or something. I'm not feeling very confident of the breath these days.

Some people fast for love, some people fast for faith - what really does the heathen fast for? Sometimes I'm confused. What drives me and keeps me going? What force did I call on to keep that bottle of water away? If the force is strong with me for what reason? Since people fast for love, todays fast is dedicated to my dogs and cats - If fasting brings any purity or goodwill or longevity or blessings - I dedicate it to those who truly deserve unconditional love.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

When the Heathen fasts (Day 2)

I did not think I had it in me to survive a second consecutive day. However, with the grace of the force the heathen sustained another day. I woke up quite late at almost 11:30 AM, that too when my sister woke me up. So obviously again the morning window to start up with some light food was missed.

Then I spent three excruciating hours at the mall, shopping for a dress to wear next weekend. Excruciating was the shopping part. I should actually be grateful for the excruciating shopping part, for it really kept my mind of the not eating or drinking. Finally threw an outfit together after hours. Then for the final act of torture my sister decided she wanted Paciugo's gelato. I'm such a foodie and sweet tooth and I love love love their gelato. So I watched in silent agony as she devoured three delicious flavors of smooth creamy velvety gelato.

The afternoon was spent online. It is amazing how time flies when you are on the internet. I had budgeted just an hour because I had other things I wanted to get to, but I procrastinated again by allowing myself to get carried away online.

Oh well before I knew it it was time for Aria's walk. I'm wondering what goodness I have done in this or past lives for the weather was gorgeous again. There was warm sunshine, a gentle cooling breeze. The effect of walking down the neighborhood streets under the evening rays and the dappled shade of the canopy was a soothing experience. There is just something magical about the experience of walking with ones faithful companion, and feeling one with nature - especially on lovely pleasant evenings enjoying as the sun sets and the colors of the sky slowly fade and then you reach home just in time for a humble meal. If I were creating my religion and had to create fasting rituals, it would definitely recommend sunrise and/or sunset walks - for its the best way for humans to feel connected with nature, with the world and get a feel for what being one with the force is all about.

The only real scare I had was when I hacked this afternoon and my own cough spittle went down the wrong way. I was doubled over choking wondering if I could Heimlich myself to freedom or if I would have to cave and drink some water. Luckily my system managed to hack out that spittle and some more, and I did not have to cave in. Seriously, it would be just my luck by choking on ones own spittle. In fact I think someday when I people are really counting on me to fast stringently this hacking and spittle is going to come back and haunt me.

Lessons from Day 2

1) The internet has made everything better. Time travels at 2 X speed on the internet converting 14 hour days to appeal like just seven hours of net time.
2) I don't think the original faster ever suffered from chronic hacking cough. For if they did like me they would have made elaborate special provisions and guidelines for what to do when you choke on your own spittle.

I'm hydrating myself with plenty of warm water now. It wakes me up at night too pee, but it keeps me during the day. I'm second guessing my idea of nutella and waffles breakfast at 11 PM. Its sitting a bit heavy in my belly. But I seriously cannot do the whole 5 Am thing.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

When the Heathen fasts (Day 1)

Last night as I lay in bed restlessly, I was struck by an idea. I wanted to experience fasting and decided to keep a fast akin to what Muslims keep for Ramadan this week. It is for personal experience and by no means to mock or disrespect Islamic rituals.

The last time I kept this fast was ages ago when I was in school. It was just for a couple Fridays and to keep friends company. The fast ended at about 6 PM. I had also kept a Maun Vrat or day of silence back in the day. Every now and then I am bitten by this fascination to experience something different and see what it feels like.

Anyway, it is years later now. Back then I was very fit and active. Now I have turned into an American slob who is perpetually snacking and shoving food down my throat. Moreover, the fast lasts all the way till 8:15 PM this time around. Most people who keep such fasts have something that matters, faith and belief that helps them persevere. I'm a heathen. I don't believe in rituals or that any benefit comes from rituals. I am skeptical about everything prescribed by religion in general.

So what happens when the heathen fasts, lets find out what happened on the first day.

I woke up at 7:30 AM. The sun was up. I figured I missed the morning window of opportunity to eat and drink. I figured later that the fast begins approximately at 5:15 ish approximately. There is no way I am waking up that early to eat. Most mornings my mom takes the dog out. She had to work early so this was my task. So from 8 - 9 AM I spent an excruciating hour in the sun. You see unfortunately, I don't have a dog who can just do their business in fifteen. She needs to be worn out real good or else she will be too hyper. Usually these walks are alright as there is water in the park and then delicious cool water when I get home. Today there was no hope of that.

It was not too bad. I came home poured food and water for my dog and crashed. Watched TV for a bit, Food Network which was cruelly sadistic and then decided to sleep. I slept almost till 1 PM. It was a good peaceful sleep. No dream of cheeseburgers or water.

At 1 PM, I had another task on hand. Mowing the lawn. I don't think the original fasters had lawns in mind. Maybe they did rake their sands like a pretty Zen sand Garden, which I don't think was as labor intensive. The last few times I've mowed the lawn, I've come back and sprawled on the wooden floor like the Virtuvian man after consuming a gallon of cool water. It was a blistering day. But for being a heathen, I must have done something to please the Gods as they formed a dark cloud cover to keep me cool while I went about my mandatory chore. Those dark clouds were not meant to be there, they left as soon as I was done.

Then some IF, a cooling shower and then lazing around. Got yelled at by mom and sister for my stubborn endeavors like fasting. Final task came at 6:45 when I embarked on my second walk with Aria. It was blistering and my sister suggested taking water. But I cannot drink I protested. For the dog stupid, she told me. Ah yes, the dog. The way she salivates at the thought of food, she could not fast for an hour. She can meditate on the deck for hours, but fasting not her style. I think she follows some Eastern Zen religion of the fat laughing Buddha. I decided to keep walking and walking and admiring the greenery and reaching home just in time to eat. Had to make four pit stops to give the dog a drink. Ah the cruelty.

Came home and had Chinese take out. I don't think its the recommended or traditional food to break the fast - but thats what my sister craved. I thought I would be devouring food like a pig, but I could manage only a modest meal. Now that I am well fed and hydrated it does not feel too bad.  I shall hydrate myself very well before going to bed again. There is no lawn mowing in the agenda tomorrow, but I have to survive the mall. Then next week it is working and the evil candy bowl. Hopefully, no one brings donuts.

Lessons from Day 1

1) I know now why most Muslims don't own dogs.
2) I wonder if they just let their lawns grow wild for a month. I wonder if they are in the market for no-mow fescue.
3) What the fuck do they do for a dry chronic cough. I usually drink hot tea, but that option is out the door.

There is actually more than just experience to this. Its a personal journey, an understanding between me and the force. The force knows why I do things, and I will see what the force says. For now the force has been kind. Perhaps heathens like me can run on our own mortality and mortal desires.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Back to School

Sounds bizarre saying it, but like thousands of students across the country this fall I will be going back to school. Currently I am in an oddly giddy state of mind over this. It is a strange mixture of excitement, apprehension, as well as disbelief.

Beginning August end I will be starting my evening MBA program at the University of Wisconsin - Madison. When 2009 rolled into 2010, I had no idea this would be the case. Forget MBA, I had not even planned to take the GMAT. I finished my Bachelors degree in May 2009 and was planning on a few years rest.

Then I am not sure what bit me and on a sudden whim one day I registered for the GMAT. I must have been possessed by a ghost because for the longest time I actually refrained from the internet and actually studied. I scored a 610. It is a pretty ordinary score. Nothing special to write home about. But I lived with it. Considering my math quotient is that of a three year old and I did this on a whim with little over a couple months of studying, I'm going to let myself get carried away and say I rocked it.

Then came application. It was May when I got my official results. Usually it is too late to apply for fall. I planned on waiting for 2011, but then again on a whim I applied. There were two choices. The first of course being the UW-Madison. It is not a Harvard, but it is amidst the top twenty public business schools in the country. Not just that it is one of the most renowned public universities in the Midwest. One known for its highly snotty admission policies and higher standards. I should know, I did not make the cut for my undergraduate. Grainger Hall home of the School of Business is a sweet modern facility. I have taken small business classes there at work. This is just the kind of school you want to go to. The second was a private college. One with a really sound program, great faculty and facilities amidst all the evening MBA programs out there. It was not a big name for the resume, but I had looked at their structure and curriculum and it was quality. It was a sure shot admission too.

So yeah this study at home, measly 610 GMAT, even measlier SAT scores student decided to take a chance. One admission was in the bag, the other was up in the air. Little did I know, I got in. My GPA was definitely rock solid. It was definitely on the high end of their admission spectrum. Writing is my forte, I'm guessing I wrote some pretty good admission essays. Something that really portrayed my seriousness and aptitude as a student, reflecting an intellect that most test scores don't appear to capture. I'm also sure my current and former co workers gave some exemplary letters of recommendation.

So this is it. Here I am, at a place I never thought I would be. Getting all set to start my MBA. Gosh 2010 has been full of surprises.

On a side note, ever since I graduated I have been neglectful of my writing. My blogs have taken a backseat while I have wasted precious time on the internet with mindless posting and PMing on forums. Heres hoping to some time management and discipline - so that I can study, have fun and definitely write a lot. For there is more fun to some structured writing than online debating. I'm starting a short novella. I started a rough draft with ideas jotted a few weeks ago.

Why do we eat?

Do we eat to live or do we live to eat?

With my family it definitely is the latter. In fact sometimes I think living to eat was a phrase coined after observing my family. In fact as long as one of us wants to eat, there is assurance that we are alive and kicking and would come out of any hell or misery so that we may eat again. In simpler words, if I am dying and the defibrillator does not revive me try to bring some delicious kebabs and curries to revive me. Until the food arrives tantalize me with tales of mouth watering food delights and I shall hold off the light at the end to live and eat.

Last weekend, we ate out thrice. In those three times eating out we have tasted almost every dessert in the menu at Abuelo's and at Biaggi's. In fact I can still taste some of that White Chocolate Bread Pudding from Biaggi's. Why I think my system just digested all the meals from last weekend. It was that fulfilling and stuffing, that it took a week to digest.

The reason we ate out so often is that my uncle and his family from California came over for a quick weekend visit. They visited because my grandfather (maternal) had a heart attack and was in the hospital. So you could say that we were eating and stuffing ourselves with delicious culinary goodies because my grandfather had a heart attack. That probably sounds terrible. One could try and justify it by relating it to binge eating of ice-cream and chocolate after a heart wrenching break up. Although the fact is, thats just the way we are.

When I look back fondly as the years gone by I remember that the best kulfi falooda and chhole bature I had was after a funeral. We had just cremated my grand uncle and were walking home from the crematorium, when we experienced sudden lustful cravings for food. So there we were sitting at a small restaurant in Sion, mourners from a funeral delighting over chhole bature and kulfi falooda. Sometimes I actually find myself morbidly looking forward to death anniversaries and such. The Indian palate has actually a delicious range of foods picked out for such occasions.

Most people will think we are horrible people with really appalling attitudes towards death and sickness. The rest of the world can stay cozy in their misery, if that is what floats their boat. We grieve, we pray, we pay our respects in our own way. I've been there as a kid rolling in bed under agony with almost 103 degrees fever, with hordes of relatives visiting to see how I was doing, and if they would have to pop my tonsils out this time. But you know what I would have really appreciated - a piping hot cup of soup or maybe some fudge. Fudge cures everything. I'm sure the cure for cancer is in the fudge.

Food is an excellent thing to share. When we share food, whether at home or outside, we share flavor, we share tastes, we share textures, we share a world of feelings and ideas. We share culture and create memories. Nothing says lasting memories like sharing food. Think about it funnel cakes on the boardwalk, popcorn at the movies, corn dogs at the fair, turkey at Thanksgiving, Ham for Christmas, summertime lemonade or grandmas holiday cookies. Food creates stronger and vibrant memories. So no matter what the occasion, be it one of ecstatic glee or deep sadness; share some food and enjoy it. Pass the food and make people happy. Dead, alive or dying - everyone will appreciate it. Which is why I sure do hope my funeral will have good delicious food.

And so if you have been eating to live, live it up a bit and try living to eat. Life will love you better for it, not to mention your tummy.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Tres Symphonique

It has been a long time since I posted something in my blog. I've been distracted by other mindless things that abound the internet. I've had several ideas that I could have penned. But there was an utter laziness on part of the brain to squeeze out the thoughts onto the finger tips for some constructive result.

However, I've been feeling different lately. My mood has been melancholic, of das sehnen, of die sucht. But what better cure for such saudade than provoking the mind. Of urging the brain to make an effort. To squeeze out the thoughts, the feelings, the nostalgia and let it all out in words. Fortunately, I don't have to step too far back in time to indulge in nostalgia. For the past week has been eventful. Mother nature manifested her awe inspiring powers and left me mesmerized. She created new memories while fondly bringing back some from yore. Here is what she composed, this is what I heard. Her three piece symphony.

Prelude:

A few nights ago, long before sunset, I lay in the grass and stared at the sky. I'd not done this since I was but a carefree teen. Of course the last time I lay down on my back and stared at the sky, I was laying down on rigid concrete, peering through the musky Bombay skyline counting out all the stars in the sky. This time around it was different. The grass was soft and pliable, but my mind concrete, I peered into pristine country skies, but my thoughts were concrete, but there I was a child again, once more searching into the sky.

Then it began, like a soft lingering melody. Wispy dark clouds darting across the sky. Like dancers swirling across the floor to the tunes of a lilting Pied Piper. Further above stout white clouds still stood strong promising calm within the eye of the storm. But right below closer to me, storm clouds chased. They blew gustily across my vision joining the massive wall forming in the North West. Way in the distant you could see the silent flash of lightning. To distant for the drum roll, for now I had to enjoy the soft melodic trill of the two rhythmic rows of clouds. One fair and stoic. The other dark and turbulent.

Allegro:

The dark clouds had been building their army. It had plundered and conquered up North West. The lost clouds were heading back our way. It took a good day or more, but then it came. The vibrating drum roll. The army was marching right in our direction.

Our awestruck group of mortal foolishly walked outside our shelters to marvel at the massive dark wall swirling in our way. The rhythmic beats of the drum, the accompanying notes of the trumpets and trombone, the sharp shimmering of the cymbals, the violins in their feverish staccato, even the flute playing a throbbing note. An army was approaching our way, an army announcing itself with natures own marching band.

The massive wall hurtled to us at startling speed. Dangerously low its base clipping the tips of the trees. The outside ranks swirled in a massive circle, with bated breaths we tried to study its battle formation. We wondered what the generals within the dark wall had in plan. Did the generals of the cloud plan to attack, or did they just want to threaten us with their unbeatable glory. Then the wall stopped. The outside formation swirling harder in feverish circles. The drum roll in our hearts getting faster and faster until fever pitch. Then mother nature laughed and she moved on. For now she just wanted us to dance to the tunes of her marching band. We were not ready to be consumed by it.

The wall moved on and then came the rain. A torrential gusty downpour of rain. The entire orchestra of wind instruments blowing triumphantly. At 60 mph the rains lashed out fiercely across the fields and our narrow country streets. The warm moist scent of the earth playing a subtle softer tune in the background. Just as fast as the music came, it stopped.

Rondo:

Silence must be heard. Only then can one truly appreciate the refrain.The orchestra had played its massive allegro, but not it was time to bid good night with a smoother rondo. The pitter patter of the aftermath rain fell gently upon me and slowly trickled down my brows. It was but a faint shadow of the massive deluge that was, but in natures symphony it was still a continuing part of the music.

Finally the clouds scattered away revealing the massive setting sun. A sun that shone vividly after being veiled for too long. The music of the sun bright and cheerful. Our entire existence was covered with a bright orange glow. It was not your everyday bright sunshine, it was different, it was of a faded glory, a romantic hue of a setting sun. The leaves glistened hues of gold, the waters on the streets liquid amber, I was compelled to cast aside my glasses and succumb to this brazen stupor. One last hurrah for the sun, one last chance to soak us in mellow warmth before turning in for the night.

Then in the yonder another trill. Stretching across the heavens like Gemini twins, two perfect arches next to each other. A rare and subtle double rainbow. Its bright, its colorful, its cheerful and all of a sudden everyone is breaking into ecstatic smiles. But like every dark cloud has silver lining, every cheerful note has an ambivalent farewell. Electric flashes framed the rainbow scategorically, lighning streaking across the sky, signaling the storm still making its way across in the yonder.

Closing Notes: 

The storm is gone. I fondly remember silent memories of childhood. Of tropical storms and the monsoons. Of days without power, and wading in the waters. Of laughing with friends in the streets, of soaking in all the showers. The music of our tropical storms and hurricanes was different. They had an earthy overtone. Of natures tablas and harmoniums composing a different symphony. But no matter where the storm and its symphony - the mood is always the same. Melancholy, of das sehnen, of die sucht. The day fades into darkness, and you wonder if the sehnsucht will ever fade with it.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Eco-Terrorism

Way back in the days of old we had the stone age, bronze age, iron age - and all that jazz. There was the medieval and there was the Renaissance. Then came the industrial age and the computer age. Ideally we should be in the space age or something futuristic like that.

However, it appears that we are in some sort of a 'green age'. Our world is undergoing what they call a green revolution. Poor Henry Ford must be rolling in his grave. I doubt that our Ford ever imagined that our world would be interested in all things pretty and green like flowers. One has to stop and ponder if there ever be a day where we drive Ford Hyacinths and Ford Tulips.

Now don't get me wrong, I am not against environmentalism. In fact I am actually a tree hugger of sorts. I love the environment, I am concerned about climate change and I truly worry what the future of the world will be considering our mindless waste and consumption. I try to reduce, reuse and recycle as much as I can. I try to buy fresh and organic whenever I can afford it. Despite that I have to admit that this green revolution thing can be a bit overboard at times.

Anything and everything is green these days. In fact the green thing has gone so far that oranges might be getting a complex as a racial minority. If Eiffel 65 had chosen to release their hit single in today's age they probably would have been singing 'I'm Green da da dee da ba' accompanied with a bizzare surrealistic recyle video. The in thing is to slap and slather green on everything. It so appears that there might be a day where lime green pant suits and mint green convertibles will be in vogue again simply because it has green in in. Whether you are in the market for farm fresh produce or noisy polluting power tools, you can count on having green in it.

In fact a while back I heard a rumor that they planned to make 100 mpg fuel efficient green (green as in eco-friendly not the color) Hummers. Could you imagine the biggest baddest behemoth of a car, that was conjured for the sole purpose of guzzling gas faster than a frat boy can chug beer, the epitome of wasteful American consumerism actually turning into something that cares for the environment? Oh the horror! That would be the worst thing to hit planet earth since Avril Lavigne got happy.

Although the Hummer going green is not as much of a shocker as another one on the news earlier this year. Osama Bin Laden released another one of his famous video tapes. For those of you who live under a rock and do not know who Bin Laden is - he is a really really bad guy. He is a sadistic combination of Waldo and Carmen Sandiego who seems to take pleasure in having his minions blow people up, especially western people. In simple world he is known as a terrorist, the mothership of terrorism actually.

Anyway this new tape of his criticized the USA for destroying the environment. He warned people of global warning and commanded them to make immediate changes to preserve nature. I'm sure even the ostriches in Africa lifted their heads out the sand and exclaimed 'WTF' mate. So now we have the poster boy of blowing things up with chemicals and electronic detonation devices, bringing down sky scrapers and flinging debris in the air, jumping on the green bandwagon.

Thusly the word is introduced to another whole new breed of eco-terrorism. Gone are the genial old hippies, donning bright batik colors, reeking of weed and rescuing lab rats. Welcome to the world of green jihad and terrorism. Its all about loving the environment.

We probably now have little Salim in some extremist brainwashing camp conjuring up an organic home grown way to blow himself plus ten. I wonder what type of programming the terrorists watch - John and Kate blow up eighty eight, 30 rock stoning, Sharia and Fatwa: Bush victims Unit?

Actually when you sit down and think about it, this eco-terrorism thing is not a bad idea at all. You probably cannot get a gun or any sort of weapon onto a plane or place of interest. Heck you cannot even accidentally bring a blade for your Venus for women razor, forget sneaking in bombs and other shizzle. But they probably will not catch a pack of wooden spears dipped in fatal Brazilian frog skin poison wrapped neatly in incense sticks. Just install in straws provided by the plane staff and blow. Oh and Jesus, I might dare fight a man armed with two AK-47 - but I would cover in fear at a two year old armed with skunk gas, racoon urine, or someone just throwing rotten putrid carcass. Imagine packing swarms of locusts or bee hives in your suitcases and having security open it.

I have to clarify that I am by no means a terrorist nor do I condone such activities. I merely happen to have a deviant thought process. As a token of my goodwill and integrity I will share my profound theory on terror, terrorists, terrorism and how to solve this global issue.

Hot N' Cold. It is not just a Katy Perry song. It is the basis of my theory. Excessive heat causes all sorts of reactions in people. People become delirious. In the hot torrid deserts they see mirages and all sorts of illusions. Basically, too much heat causes people to lose their senses. The Middle East is in what we call of the earths hot zones. The sun beats down hard and dry, pummeling the mind of people into submission. Some feel that indoor snow parks and lots of shopping and tall buildings will save them of their madness. Others who are not so resilient dream of virgins and how they can attain them by killing people.

On the other hand cold cools people down. Too much cold causes freezing. It numbs the brain and senses. The colder it gets, the more the tendency to wrap oneself in soft fuzzies, lay by the fire, making smores and watching happy lovey dovey movies. Cold also means a lot of work. When you burn all the calories you eat all week, digging yourself out of the house each morning, you don't have the time or energy to think about much else. Kill others? Why you would pay someone to shoot you down and end your winter of misery. Case in point have we ever had Eskimo terrorists or terrorists from cold frigid parts of the world.

Solution? The solution is two fold.
1) Make all the bad terrorists who are captured and in prison shovel snow. Let us God fearing tax paying Americans sit at home with soft fuzzies, roaring fires, smores and romantic comedies. Make the bad terrorists do our work. Imagine the implications if we had them working their butts of during our recent Snowmageddon. Lets send some to Canada too, and also Alaska where we can make Palin director of snow clear terror camp. One hard storm and these terrorists will be groveling for mercy. They will write home about the horrors claiming how waterboarding and other forms of torture seem like summer vacation in front of the work of the frigid north.

2) For all the fringe people who have not yet killed. Send them to the most brutal winter towns with blistering cold wind chills that freeze the skin in seconds for vacation. The cold will calm them down and slowly metamorphise them into Americans who huddle in fuzzies around fires eating smores.

The final thing to remember is that global warming is a really serious concern. Only Satan's spawn would tell you not to worry. Why won't it just be like Satan to want to make the earth hot as hell, turn our rivers and seas into boiling cauldrons and the earth into smoldering pits of torture. Only Satan would want a world like this so he can expand his domain and take us away from God. God is calm and cool, like a cool spring breeze that rustles through the hair whispering melodic spring music. If we do not fight global warming Satan shall rise from the depths and make life living hell. We will be dropped in the cauldron of seas. If we want Jesus to save us, we have to make the world a cool place where he can function. Most importantly only by fighting global warming can we fight back terror and give it a fatal blow. For when we fight global warming we fight the reasons for being delirious and stupid for having brains fried in the excess heat.

Save the planet. Reduce, Reuse and Recycle. Love mother nature and earth.

Jesus Saves. But going green backs up and encrypts too.