The twilight Episode..

Don't know what its about Taylor Lautner. All of just 17 years, he just has to appear on the screen, and the girls (and a few gays) get loud.. And when I say loud, I mean LOUD. So loud that I was trying to sleep and kept waking up. And everytime I woke up, he was just showing off his six-packs.

No. To be frank, I think the guy is great with all his native American looks. And he is way better than Edward Cullen. But, just that I feel I got stuck up in the wrong movie-house. Maybe I should have watched 2012 instead. At the quarter-life crisis stage, all you can think of is disaster...

Note: Edward Cullen looks like he ate a roach. Or maybe he did. Haven't you heard : Nicholas Cage did it for Moonstruck??

When Atlas Cried..

When Atlas Cried..

Push! Push a little more.

Oh, how I bear your burdens.

And your hopes. And dreams.

I can't take it anymore.

Do you find a glimpse of consent

on my wet lips?

Or am I feigning ignorance

to the pain?

Pucker up! Says the world.

Were you around when

the world was left on my shoulders?

You watched me on statues,

you loved my stability.

You admired the way I juggled life.

Yet, did you share my burden?

Or did you offer,

a hand, an iota of support?

If the answer is nay,

then shouldn't you just

shut the fuck up?

A Tarantino evening...

Whats it about QT that I love?? In simple words, if I ever made movies, I'd definitely be making them like him..

Hell, I've always loved exploitation movies. I think they form a legendary part of pop art as we know it. What Quentin does is make the exploitation genre more mainstream. Imagine seeing a revenge film with a star-cast comprising Kurt Russell, Zoe Goss and Rosario Dawson. And for this, QT is the Andy Warhol of our times. And his students (Robert Rodriguez, Eli Roth etc. ) keep trying to emulate him, and even though they don't come close, they turn out pretty good too. Hell, I try to emulate him in a few scripts that I have written, as my budding film-maker friend Irshad will tell you. You see, they always contain a trunk shot.. :-)

Unexpectedly, my evening today turned out to be a one-night-stand with Quentin. I just landed 2 of his movies on my hard-drive, courtesy Jayanth. And I suddenly did not want to go out.

First up, Inglourious Basterds. No no no.. that's the right spelling, Blogspot. I saw this one a little while ago, but did not understand the spaghetti western connection completely until Irshad reminded me of it. And now, when I saw it again, I am like, WOW. Does this guy ever stop getting imaginative. None of his movies are similar in genre, though they all pay tributes, and hell loads of them. This one has all of his signature moves - plenty of violence, mind boggling shots (oh, he replaces the trunk shots with 'stairs' shots), Mexican standoffs (this time under the table), thick accents, and a nice way of breaking stereotypes. And oh yes, there's the alternate reality where Hitler gets killed. Loved that take.

Next up, Grindhouse. Or technically speaking, Death proof. Now, for the uninitiated, Grindhouse is a two-part movie. One directed by Robert Rodriguez (Planet terror) and Death proof by Quentin Tarantino. With all due respect to RR, planet terror sucked. But, boy!! Did deathproof rock. Hell, yeah!! It had all the classic things of a rape and revenge movie (there was no rape, period) and even reminded me of one of my favorite hunted-becomes-hunter movies, "I spit on your grave". And yeah, Kurt Russell was badass, and Zoe goss even more. But the most badass shot of the movie was Rosario Dawson's axe-kick after the credits. Who would expect her to do that if you have seen her in 'seven pounds'. And QT alludes, in his own archetypical way, to a lot of stuntmen works: the ship's mast, the dodge chargers, the bucket seat (that was nasty, bitch!!) and hell, Zoe goss. One of my favourite Quentin movies now..

P.S: Out of the fake trailers, Machete was good. Robert Rodriguez can be proud of that.

No More joyrides..

Back in June, I'd set up a secondary blog. Wanted to kind of keep all literary efforts different from inopportune observations. But ever since I set that up, I haven't had time to post anything on either of the two blogs...

So, rather than have 2 blogs with no updates, I'd better have one with no updates. So, kaput. kaboom. klabooz. Off with the prolix joyride. I am disabling that blog..

Almost believed this...

Pfizer Corp. announced today that Viagra will soon be available in liquid form, and will be marketed by Pepsi Cola as a power beverage suitable for use as a mixer. It will now be possible for a man to literally pour himself a stiff one. Obviously we can no longer call this a soft drink, and it gives new meaning to the names of 'cocktails', 'highballs' and just a good old-fashioned 'stiff drink'. Pepsi will market the new concoction by the name of:

MOUNT & DO.

Thought for the day: There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer's research. This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections and absolutely no idea of what to do with them.

Breaking the hiatus... this time in Manila

Long time. Same hemisphere. Different country. How 4 months went by..

Hated the exams. And still passed them. Loved the project. And still I failed it. WTF... I need my life back.

First impression of Manila:

1. Costly accommodation, travel and basic amenities.

2. Cheap (read 'bloody, damn cheap') liquor, cigarettes, food (albeit Filipino.. nothing Indian)

3. You could walk around naked and nobody gives a fuck. Now, nothing to worry... I haven't tried that yet.

4. The people are gorgeous. Both figuratively, and literally.

I love a good mix of business and pleasure. Business at day and pleasure in the evenings. I have a feeling I am going to love this country.

P.S: Thanks Neema. For reminding me that I had a blog. :-)

Maria full of grace

Saw Maria Full of Grace at the South Indian Film Theatre last week, courtesy the ICAF (Indo-Cine Appreciation Foundation). Now, my only exposure to world movies is through UTV channel of the same name, and this was my first time at an ICAF screening. And I have no clue how I found the time to watch it, considering that I am in the midst of my final sem exams. But boy, did I know what hit me??

If you have watched the Tamil movie called 'ayan', you would know what balloon-swallower, or mules are. But 'ayan' was just a tease-shot. This Colombian movie pulls the lid on everything that happens in the mule-world. From tickling the stomach to make up for more, ehem, storage space, to the horrendous scene of having to swallow the pellets after you've just crapped them out, and to having disastrous consequences when a pellet leaks or bursts inside. The movie is disturbing, distraught, yet defiant in presenting Maria as a lady who pulls through all the shite with a lot of grace. A must watch.

Maria of Bethlehem is said to have travelled on a mule to give birth to Jesus. This one was, putting it politically correct, the mule.

The lankan revelation

I don't want to comment on this picture below... just pasting it as I saw it. For all I know, it is just a joke. But were it for real, this would definitely be a legendary pic.

In case your knowledge of world affairs is poor, the picture above shows LTTE supremo Veluppillai Prabhakaran watching a new broadcast of himself being shot. And it was just yesterday that the Lankan forces had declared that he was shot. The headlines below the picture translates to "Prabhakaran is alive".

The prolix Joyride

The only reason why I'd set up this blog, was so that I could explore the literary avenues a little more.

I wanted to write, dunno about what, but I just wanted to write. It took the fizz out of me whenever I wrote a couple of lines of my own. And it felt so good to read it, even after years, and try and spot mistakes, areas of improvement. In other words, I wanted to be my own teacher. Ergo, the blog was set.

But lately, I have been going through a dilemma. I spend at least 2 hours of my day infosnacking. Must be a crazy liking for trivia, but it just so happens. So, what resulted was, my blog, which was once a very pristine, wordsmith's creation, faltered. And it turned it what I called a "blackboard". You can't guess what the last subject was because it shows you an equation on the left side and a poetry line on the right. And, for the first time ever, at times, my blog did not match my mood.

So, I am setting up a second one now. Going forward, this is the rule that I'll follow: evaluations is only about my observations that I come up with during infosnacking moments. And joyride is for the pure thrill of letting words flow. So, it is said, and so it shall be.

What, me worry??

I am still on the studying trail.. Don't remember what I was reading about, but it was related to media brand identity and development. And accidentally, now thats the one word I hate to use when I am trying to concentrate on something, I fell on Alfred E. Neuman.

I was, once upon a time, a regular reader of the MAD magazine. The best part about it was, my mom never caught me reading slightly edgy/racy stuff, because whenever she looked to see what I was reading, she would see only cartoons. Pretty convenient for an 8th standard guy, right? So, anyway, I kinda liked this bumbling shmuck they put up on the MAD covers, and I liked the fact that regardless of whoever was standing below the fan, he regularly threw shit right on it. He was, to me, a cult icon of our times.

In fact during the 2008 presidential election, Barack Obama had himself stated that he shared his ears with Alfred E. Neuman. No idea how much political mileage that statement bought him, but it made him an instant cool phenomenon to the rest of the world. And, having seen the number of times Alfred made fun of the (BU)mbling (SH)muck, Obama would have never imagined that he himself would end up being drawn to the limb on one of their magazines. The laugh-riot of my day today.

The borders of time

I have a media management exam this Friday.

And I don't believe this!! I am have been sitting all evening in front of the comp, with my mouse clicking randomly through Time magazine cover archives. WTF! I haven't read Time even when I had to do those silly political science assignments back in school. And now I am in this morose fit, where I just want to see all the covers of Time through the ages, totally unperturbed by the fact that a more serene exam awaits me. duh..So much for the scorpion passion.

But, I came up with something nice. Have you noticed how the Time magazine always, I mean, always, like the beginning of the genesis or something, have had this red border on their cover? I mean, the border is as iconic as the magazine itself. It forms a signature touch for the magazine, and has been their style statement over the years. So, have they ever tried to be fresh in any way? I mean, change something in the border or something??

Well, looks like they tried only twice. Once was after the 9/11, when the border became black, and the second instance was for the Earth day, when the border went a verdant green.

Some find... And so much a couple of wasted hours. Now, I got to get back to media management.

The hall-of-famer

I'd once before realized how much a well-done from Capt meant. What I never realized then was how hooked I'd be onto the site.

Almost everyday, regardless of whether I am sloshed, sober, morose, verbiose, or whatever-state-that-fits-into-an-adjective, I'd still read it and try and crack the daily. I failed poorly initially, and then I started getting a hang of the captain's Modus Operandi. And no, I am still far from the prophetic top-slot (there's a guy there sitting a pretty 100 points ahead of me) but I am almost there. The emphasis is definitely not on the word "almost".

P.S: I am attaching a screenshot because I am really not sure how long I'll stay there. There are some really bright puckers right on my tail, ready to pip me out anytime. Gotta run...

Silent Confessions

Has it ever occured to you
that i am the one with the
weaker heart?
That some tears spend time on
these cheeks as well?
Oh! You think you are the troubled
constantly pounced on by sorrows.
But to tell you the truth
I am the one who's bleeding!
Like the rain pattering on the window frame
the hurt does heap in me as well
Yet, in life, I am the magician
hiding things from the eyes of others
and like a deft sorcerer
I've hid my sorrows
from you..

Alas!
The masquerading glass frames around me
seem to break
I am trying my best to cover a wounded heart
filled with jealousy and possessiveness
but it shows
and the world around seems to laugh
sending echoes of contempt
and i look so humiliatingly foolish

Have you noticed the blood dripping
oozing with unkempt, dirty possessiveness?
You can do either to stop my bleeding
or to let the blood flow,
draining each inch of my wicked possessiveness.

Whatever you do, you wouldnt
be blamed...

If a bullet should enter my brain..

Just came across this beautiful mural on the net. Attributed to Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man elected to public office in United States, the quote reads thus: "If a bullet should enter my brain, let the bullet destroy every closet door (in the country)". Very powerful words, considering that Sean Penn's academy winning performance as Harvey is still hovering around you.

The Fake IPL Player Lingo

I've been reading FIP for about 2 weeks now. No, I am not a critic of KKR, nor do I watch the IPL religiously. But boy, does he have a sense of humour. He makes fun of everyone around, including himself, and still sits pretty safe while Buchanan, or Bhookha naan as he would call it, and the boys have been searching the cyberspace for his identify.

And whoever he is, he is pretty smart. He doesn't use names. Too convenient, considering that you are blogging about sensitive issues like Ravi Shastri trying to get fresh on Mandira Bedi, Shahrukh being a gay, and Shane warne being part of a minor groupie. Too convenient, because, if he ever reveals his identity, there are a few legal angles that actually could save him from any prosecution. And think about it, he has named the blog as the "Fake IPL Player" blog. If that doesn't give him immunity, what can?

Anyway, I've been in love with some of the nomenclature used by this sonofagun. And I am putting my fave ones here.

Babli - Preity Zinta
Bevdaa - Jessie Ryder
Bevdaa team - Bangalore Royal Challengers
Bhookha Naan – Buchanan
Big Brother - Raj Kundra (this guy can't be a cricketer. He knows whats happening in reality tv)
Bunty - Ness Wadia (You should check out the B&B song lyrics from the blog's archives)
Candy Nickel - Andy Bichel
Castro - Fidel Edwards
Chikna Pussy - David Hussey
Chirkut Teli - Virat
Dhakkans - Deccan
Former India fast bowler who will remain a former India fast bowler - Agarkar
Ganji Hanger - Sanjay Bangar
Hawaii Chappal - Greg Chapel
Junta/ Junta Tormentor - Ajanta Mendis
Kishen Kanhaiyya - Ravi
Mangal Pandey - LR Shukla
Mira Bhai - Harbhajan Singh
Mr. Batlivala - Mallya
Panty Curry - Robin Uthappa
Pedophile Priest - Gilchrist
Peter Ka Beta – Peterson
Pamela Inder Singh - VRV Singh (he bowled his breast out... hyuck hyuck)
Saala Slimeball - Lalit Modi
Sandy Baddy Babe - Mandira Bedi
Something - Ricky
Vinnie Dildo/ Badsaah Dildo - Shah Rukh Khan

But nothing beats the nickname for the man below.. In fact, not sure about the authenticity of this, but Yuvraaj Singh told him once during a practice session, "attitude masala dosa jaisa, aur bowling appam jaisa". Presenting to you, the one-and-only appam chutiya.

The 9/11 ad

Just came to see this banned print ad from Starbucks. And it never stuck me at all. I mean, why would a simple ad that showed 2 drinks and bees flying around them, be considered inappropriate. Only when I read about it, did I happen to find out that the ad, released just before the 9/11 fiasco, reminded a lot of people of the twin-towers and the flights that crashed into them. For the love of all, this was taking it a little too much...

They were just words

I've always wanted to end up on the music bandwagon. Not that I could sing even remotely, or play any man-made instrument. Just that I was fascinated from a very young age with a software called FL Studio, which made me feel Rahmanesque when I was just a teenager.

So, I've actively encouraged my brother in all his endeavours (he studies E-Media in Chennai) when it came to music sequencing. So, last month when he requested me to pen the lyrics for a song they were supposed to do as part of a campus project, I was more than glad - I was Euphoric. On a piece of paper, not tissue this time, I scribbled out the lyrics to him. And below is my first lyrics, ever.

Went through this road before,
Seen the lights and the dimwits galore
stretched myself till I was sore
I ain't talking it over, cos its just all over.

Loony nights and moony talks,
All this and more on endless walks.
The road lay barren, black and bored,
I wonder where you were the night before.

It was never meant to be,
I still cant come to see,
that those little luscious lips of yours
now don't belong to me.
Do you know how much,
I miss your brazen touch?
and I think of all the things you said,
and I know they were just words.

Distant faces and forlorn people
All the smiling folks have taken a hike
I try to build a world again
But I am swimming in an ocean all alone

The tape's stopped playing Bolton now,
and my TV remote is calm and how.
My house lies bare and empty of hope
I am naked of my skin, does it show?

It was never meant to be,
I still cant come to see,
that those little luscious lips of yours
now don't belong to me.
Do you know a thing,
of the pain I hold within?
and I think of all the things you said,
and I know they were just words.

I know they were just words,
yet I couldn't bother less'
cos your words were meant to sugarbeat
every vice that you did to me.

It was never meant to be,
I still cant come to see,
that those little luscious lips of yours
now don't belong to me.
Do you know a thing,
of the pain I hold within?
and I think of all the things you said,
and I know they were just words.


P.S: In case you still haven't realized it yet, I post all these on the blog because I want to turn 55 and still read all the silly things I wrote in my 20's. Hope blogspot is around till then...:-)

The rarest of scenes

Not sure, but I think I picked this up from Varun's archives.

The below mentioned scene from enter the dragon looks pretty normal, akin to any of the Bruce Lee fight sequences that you would get to see. But then, who is the other guy who is taking the brunt of it all? Whoa!! If that ain't Mr. Jackie Chan, I must be Mallika Sherawat!! Yep, this is the only cinematic scene where Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan appear together, which Jackie was still doing sidekick roles. Some find there..

Some times we are made to never be forgotten.

There is nothing that irritates me more than a print ad that takes an eternity to figure out. But once I figure it out, there is nothing that makes me more pleasant. I've been using post-it notes unscrupulously in my office for a while now, but could not make out the essence or the meaning of the print ad below until I figured out who the people were. There is no way one can miss the big bust of Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft, the pipe of sherlock holmes, or the long claws of Freddy Kramer. Some times these characters are made never to be forgotten. Pretty neat idea, if you ask me.

Faith.. Advertised.

It took me a long time to understand these print ads below. Was thinking it was for some kind of ad for hero cycles or something. Until I came to the bottom right of the pictures. And then the juxtaposition of faith was all too obvious to me. After all, I've grown up in the land of Agarbattis too.