Madness returns... with a vengenace

No pretenses, circular nonsense follows! This post isn't going to go anywhere, it's not even going to try - it is going to be the purest form the abundant junk that primarily composes the Internet. Interesting, considering it would appear to be a perfect analogue to a person, yes a damn person! What the flying fuck does that mean? It means I'm calling the human race the biggest trash pile in the history of our rockpile - the planet we so lovingly named Earth, and the very same planet we choose to clusterfuck in innumerable ways.

Everything has its beauty but not everyone sees it. - Confucius

[That's the attitude you need to have while reading my blog.]

This is the point where you're thinking, "Geez, what an arrogant prick this guy is!" Well, guess what, 'Oh exalted one', I never said I wasn't one. In fact, I've never said much about who I am, except that I consider myself a 'nobody'. The universe has no laws against nobodies being either raving lunatics or arrogant pricks on an ego-trip, or even both. So, what am I saying about myself? NOTHING!! If I knew something of consequence about myself, I probably wouldn't be writing crap like this.

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. - Marcellus (William Shakespeare, Hamlet)

[Don't look at me. Whatever it is, I didn't do it!]

What do I know about myself then? I know I like chocolate. And, I know I hate three kinds of fuckbags more than all other kinds (I'll get to the different kinds of fuckbags later, maybe) - fuckbags who try to insinuate themselves into my life as though it were their birthright, fuckbags who presume to know what path I should take through life, and most of all, fuckbags who try to define reality using an explicit function. I mean, what the hell will it take for you to see how fucking stupid that is -an explicit function! Am I saying by implication that I think reality should be characterized using an implicit function? Fuck, NO!! If you're religious, you must understand that! If you're a rationalist, you must be in splits - yes, you are most welcome! And, if you're a religious rationalist, you are an oxymoron and a fucking moron! Someone should have told you that by now.

The gods offer no rewards for intellect. There was never one yet that showed any interest in it... - Mark Twain

[Really? I figured there must be one helluva reward for intellect. Why else would so many be out to kill it?]

Holy F Cow!! How quickly a post grows when content is not an issue! Once again, am I implying that my shorter posts have something in the way of content? Or even that that was ever the idea at least? Fuck, no! When will you ever learn? Half the problems humans have with fellow humans arise from the utterly naive assumption that simple logic can be applied to human behavior. People are many things - chiefly screwy and goofy. There, I said it. It's the wisdom of ages! People are screwy and goofy! Now will you hold off on the bloody assumptions? Look where they've gotten us!

Adversity is the first path to truth. - Lord Byron

[So, keep reading!]

On a random note (hey, I'm by no means saying that anything I've said thusfar was any less random. [sly grin]), if you're wondering about the rather prodigious use of profanity in this post, you must really believe that everything happens for a reason. Well, everything happens for a reason all right - Mr. Murphy's amusement! He loves your kind - especially the way you're always running around in circles with your hair in flames when shit happens.

Everything happens to everybody sooner or later if there is time enough. - George Bernard Shaw

[So, stop blaming me!]

Some of you must be scratching your heads as to why I capitalized the 'I' in Internet. (If you're not, you need to be more observant.) Well, that seems to be the convention when invoking entities that are omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent in nature and the Internet's not only damn close on all three counts but we also know for sure that it exists! That in my book definitely counts for something. (You didn't expect me to go this far without taking a pot-shot at the big G, did you?)

"God does not care about our mathematical difficulties. He integrates empirically." - Albert Einstein

[You and I have to live and die so that 'he' can get y=42?]

Those of you with live hamsters running within the wheel upstairs might recall my promise to discuss the different kinds of fuckbags there are. If it shocks you to know that I don't intend to keep my word, please DO NOT VOTE! Anyway, I'm getting tired from spewing all this drivel, so I'm going to take a break. (Finally, you have something to be really thankful for. Thankful to whom? ME. Because this reprieve that you're getting is my benefaction.) In any case, I think I've managed to give you a glimpse of what happens when a train of though derails - no, it's not pretty at all. So, indeed, you are most welcome.

P.S. No supreme beings where harmed during the writing of this post.

A momentary lapse of madness

"In solitude, we are least alone." - Lord Byron

The icy fingers of the wind played across the craggy mountainside, screaming a primeval lullaby; tough love. The wanderer looked up towards the sky, smiling. The stars smiled back. The stillness of solitude offered him a measure of peace. He wouldn't quite call it enlightenment, no, that would be too self-assured. Rather, he felt what could only be described as a certain sense of equilibrium - a feeling of comfort, of belonging. Call it hope, if you will. As the cold winter breeze washed over him, he felt strangely comforted. In some odd way, he felt warm. Far from the screams, the curses, and the tears, he was home. As he stood upon that mountain, time faded into irrelevance, the voices of the past drowned out by the howling wind. And the future waited patiently, in silence. All he heard was the wind's raspy voice, absorbing and soothing. At that moment, nothing existed beyond the mountain. Memory dared not interrupt his reverie. No, he had not forgotten the past, rather, he'd learned much from it. And, at that moment, he'd simply chosen not to summon his recollections. The heat from his intense inward gaze had burned away the cobwebs, so, he could finally see past the surreal gray facades. He smelled the roses, felt their thorns and appreciated both sensations equally. He was a child, once more. Ever onward, deeper inward; the wanderer would never stop.

This whole rant was inspired by the following quote which I encountered in John Krakauer's Into The Wild:

"No man ever followed his genius till it misled him. Though the result were bodily weakness, yet perhaps no one can say that the consequences were to be regretted, for these were a life in conformity to higher principles. If the day and night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal, ... That is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you have cause momentarily to bless yourself. The greatest gains and values are farthest from being appreciated. We easily come to doubt if they exist. We soon forget them. They are the highest reality. ... The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched." - Henry David Thoreau, Walden or Life in the Woods.

Reflections in the red eye

How do you fight thoughts? How do you disconnect emotions from memories? By losing consciousness. Most people sleep through their entire lives without even realizing it. They are blissful in their ignorance.

Among the few who do perceive reality - they are the ones who see the gray that lies just under the facade of color, and the brilliant colour that lies past that gray - there are fewer still who are able to process the overwhelming barrage of sensory input and actually make something of it. The wise cut the glare by looking through a visor composed of patience and detachment. To the rest, however, reality is so loud, it's deafening and beyond comprehension - for the symmetry of the universe eludes the impatient eye. To see it for even the most fleeting of moments can precipitate an epiphany.

It is such an epiphany that can complicate things somewhat for an individual. For he now knows the endpoint but not the path that will lead him there. And in searching for this path, one learns repeatedly, the limitless extent of human inadequacies. Some are driven by an indescribable inner flame (call it curiosity, if you will) to to try again... and again. These are people who know the true nature of hope and see its beauty. Others, however, give up on the quest and even end up regretting their awakening, so to speak. These are the ones who try consciously to sleepwalk through life (a combination of fatigue and sleep deprivation works rather well, actually). It would smack of hubris for one to pity such sleepwalkers, especially so for one who has knowingly wasted years. The decent thing to do would be to offer hope and encouragement.

So, I shall end with a rather popular and often abused quote from Swami Vivekananda - "Arise, awake, and stop not till the goal is reached."

On the subject of faith

A short while ago, I read excerpts from an article by Bhagat Singh, outlining the rationale behind his atheism - "Why I am an atheist". While I may not share his enthusiasm on the subject of Marxism (I will return to this topic, albeit briefly, in a short while), I must agree with him on the subjects of faith and rational thought. While I have tried to explain my position in this regard in previous posts, I can hardly hold a candle to Bhagat Singh when it comes to the clarity of his words and the exhaustiveness of his arguments.

Returning to the subject of Marxism, I believe that it is doomed to failure because, it fails to take into account human nature. Albert Einstein reportedly said, "Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity...and I'm not sure about the universe." Einstein may have been uncertain about the universe but Marx most definitely forgot to account for human stupidity. And, I will define stupidity broadly to include selfishness (in the sense that some measure of altruism in the individual is essential for the success of the species), ignorance, intellectual laziness and all of the innumerable other flavors we humans have come up with. When you think about the level of human stupidity, it becomes clear that two things are inevitable - one is the failure of Marxist principles and the other is the success of religion, 'organized' or otherwise.

To me, science is part of the silver lining around the dark, noxious cloud of human accomplishment. It seems almost miraculous that science and religion (the kind that is dogmatic and forced upon others by its proponents) evolved simultaneously and on occasion, within the same elements of consciousness. What separates the two is a short span over a deep crevasse - ideas on one side and beliefs on the other. And while believers may find the ways of science dry, cynical, unromantic and without hope, I would argue otherwise. What could be more beautiful than experience and understanding? What could be more cynical than believing in a supreme being who would stand by and watch the innocent be wronged? There is yet room for optimism for one who points to randomness to the way the world is.

Therefore, it is on the basis of history that I argue that faith is a luxury of the privileged, a refuge of the ignorant and an opium of the masses. Of those who would disagree, I only ask that they show me the data that would suggest otherwise.

PS. Thank you Partha, for pointing me to the article (Why I am an atheist).

Why walk alone?

If you're the type of person that knows the path to take through life, have you ever wondered what it would be like to not know where you wish to go? True, uncertainty can be decidedly unpleasant, in some odd way like sea-sickness, but it does offer a certain freedom. A freedom to choose any path at every fork in the road. That is a freedom not afforded a man of vision. Indeed, one must pay a price to chase a vision - one must forsake anything that may lead one astray, however dear it may be to one's heart. Often, men who choose such a path walk alone, immersed in the world around them and yet far removed at the same time. They are men cognizant of the price and willing to pay it. Though it is not always gladly that they make sacrifices, they do it with the unfailing faith that in the end, it will all be worth it. The essential question then is rather simple - is their faith true? Or are they lost? There's only one way to find out, isn't there?

This, that and some other stuff

What have I been doing this long? I've been pondering the title of my as yet unwritten book... the book that I shall write... well, time frames are really just constraints. Anyway, here are some working titles I've come up with:

1. Drink heavily, in moderation.
2. The pleasure of finding things that go bump in the dark by accidentally stepping on them, killing them in the process
3. Well, fuck you too! I fucking refuse to be fucking angered!
4. Inventive invective
5. Just some more crap...
6. Don't bother reading any further.
7. You will regret buying this book... I promise.
8. All you'll ever need to know about nothing
9. An uneventful life
10. Plotting to take over the world... and other self-motivation techniques

What have I been reading lately?

I was tagged by Pingu about a couple of months ago. I'm supposed to quote the last sentence from page 123 of the book I'm currently reading (I think those were the stipulations). As always I'm part way through a handful of books. I've decided to quote from two of the books because the others are graphic novels. Also, I've decided to quote my favorite lines instead of arbitrarily chosen ones.

Book 1: Brain Droppings by George Carlin
"Intelligence tests are biased towards the literate."

Book 2: The Pleasure of Finding Things Out by Richard P.Feynman
"I don't have to be good because they think I'm going to be good."

Downfall

The skies burn.
The very air seems to boil.
The daystar shines so bright.
Vying for glory,
A second midday sun.
Almost beautiful,
Decidely terrible.
A fleeting moment of unparalleled brilliance,
Before the world dissolves away,
Ushering in the darkness.
A darkness lasting much too long,
Choking into oblivion,
The last breath of life.
A mother lies hurt, scorched, scarred.
Her children all dead.
Her beautiful children, her terrible children,
Gone. Never to return.
Fate, so quick thy hand,
So cruel thy retribution.
Justice? It matters not.
The past is past,
The future awaits.
She lays sleeping,
Not dead.
Perhaps, the mushroom cloud had a silver lining.

I believe that while there always exists hope for the individual to find meaning in life, our civilization itself is merely circling the drain. If there ever existed a species on this planet whose extinction was not merely inevitable but deserved, it would be Homo sapiens sapiens. For we have allowed vile beasts like hate and war to roam free on our watch. The above lines are not a foretelling of the future, they merely offer a foreboding vision of a beast of our own creation consuming us at one fell swoop.

The Return of Random Rants

With reference to books, when did popularity ever become a complete measure of quality? Of the people who say it is, I ask this “Who died and made you king?”

Moving a couple of steps to the side from that thought – why do we judge each other by the books we’ve read or failed to read? It’s all too often that one hears some thing like, “You seriously can’t call yourself a reader if you haven’t read Tolstoy/Shakespeare/Macnife!” Oh, really? Is he not stupid who does not realize there have been so many great books written over the ages that it is entirely possible for different people to have read any number of great books without ever reading what the others in question have read? Granted, some great books are so widely read in a certain age that it may come as a surprise that one with a taste for books should have not read such a book. But to judge them based on that, that’s arrogant and stupid.

Have you ever felt like a sheep in a wolf’s clothing hiding among wolves? I have. And then for a while, I felt as though I was really the wolf hiding among the sheep. Strangely, I now feel like neither sheep nor wolf... I just don't know any more!

It’s 10:55pm and the temperature in my bedroom is 68.0 degrees Fahrenheit. I am sure that the probability of this statement being interpreted by ‘scholars’ who will ‘unlock its inner meaning’ is greater than zero. I wonder how much of what we ‘know’ is the product of such ‘insight’.

Continuing in the same vein: I am told that the fourth word of every seventh line from the odd-numbered pages of all seven Harry Potter books taken together spell out a secret message inviting the children of the world to unite under the banner of the duck-billed platypus and revolt against capitalism and chocolate teddy bears.

Often, genius is peppered with a dash of madness. However, madness alone is all too often mistaken for genius.

Could there be a better role model for me than a vision of the man I seek to be? Not only is such a role model open to constant evolution, but also it is impossible to be let down by him.

Is it not stupid to act solely to avoid future regret?

__________________________________________________
Here’s a conversation that happened inside my head between me and a hypothetical ‘true believer’ (let’s call him B):

Me: So you say there’s a god who is omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent and that he made the universe?
B: Yes, of course!
Me: Then how do you explain the fact that I’m an asshole who won’t accept that? If god made me, wouldn’t he have made me aware of that fact?
B: No, He gave us all free will.
Me: Really? Why would he do that? To see what we’d do with it? But being omniscient, he should already know the answer to that – thus obviating the need for such an experiment.

Oh wait, he’s not only watching me, but will judge me after I die, right? If he already knew where I was going to end up and still let me do it, I’d say he has one hell of a twisted sense of humor.

And if you amend your definition and say he’s not omniscient, I ask you then why would he make you and me then? What is his purpose for creating the universe? To watch and learn? Wait, now he’s a scientist? But he wants you to forget about the science and have faith?

B: You’re evil!
Me: Sounds to me like you don’t have a real answer. My job is done then. Time to wake up and get to work – happens to be science by the way. I’m out of here, before you decide to kill me.
B: Good! And, don’t come back!

__________________________________________________

"Let me give just one example of how the argument goes. By adding up all the begets in the Book of Genesis you can get the age of the Earth. It turns out to be about six thousand years old—A begat B, B begat C, C begat D. A's lifetime is stated, B's, C's and so on. Then you get up to historical times. Add it all up: 4004 B.C. according to Archbishop Usher. Now, if that is the case, then an interesting question arises. How is it that there are astronomical objects more than 6000 light-years away? It takes light a year to travel a light-year, so if we see an object that is a million light-years away or two million light-years away, we are seeing it as it was one or two million years ago in the past. If the entire universe is only 6,000 years old, what must we deduce from this? I think the only possible conclusion is that 6,000 years ago God made all the photons of light coming to the Earth in a coherent format so as to deceive astronomers into thinking there are such things as galaxies, that the universe is vast and old.

"Since most of the matter and energy in the universe is in external galaxies farther away than a million light-years, God must have created most of the matter and energy in the universe to deceive human beings. That is such a malevolent theology as well as such an arrogant pretension that I cannot believe anyone, no matter how devoted to the literal interpretation of this or that religious book, could seriously consider it. " - Carl Sagan
__________________________________________________

PS. If, after reading this post, even one person reaches for a paper, a pen and the Harry Potter books, my job on this planet is done and I can go home!

A walk in the rain

This post was inspired by Pingu's post titled Relentless Rain. Not often does one read lines so moving, the hand reaches for the pen, seemingly of its own volition.

Gray looms and thunder roars,

The heavens open up,

The Gods vent their fury.

I stand defenseless,

Fists clenched in rage,

Eyes aflame with defiance.

As I look up in tense anticipation,

The first salvo hits, with unfailing precision,

Washing my anger away?

A walk in the rain.

A vision of power

Part 1: Questions

A thousand worries weighing down my mind,
Forgotten at the sight of a bright blue sky.
The cacophony of demons trying to break down locked doors,
Drowned out by a refrain sublime.
Glimpses into infinity, far beyond the provincial,

Visions of the self, revealing answers and questions,
Questions that propel me to seek, to learn.
Therefore, I am. Therefore, I wander.

I have more questions than answers. But that inspires no fear in my mind. Far from it, it is the force that drives me - to be, to live, to wander, to seek, to learn. In life, I revel. Is that not power*? If so, where does it stem from? More questions - wonderful!

Part 2 - Answers

Vast open spaces. Endless skies. Clouds. As I looked upon just such a scene, I felt as though I was looking upon the very visage of freedom itself. The clouds, they come and go as they please, they rain down upon the land when it is their whim to do so, they answer to none.** As I looked upon that scene, I realized that their freedom stemmed from the absence of any moorings whatsoever.

Power derives from knowledge and knowledge itself is born out of freedom, freedom of thought. And such power is true as it is supreme - for it is contingent upon no fact save that of one's existence.

A man without beliefs, a god*** without believers,

Beholden to none, all powerful, am I.

* I do not speak of power in the mundane oft-used sense of the word. Power over the actions of of others and to an extent even my own, mean little to me. When liberty of action is but an illusion, how can power over actions be real? True power is that of free thought - the shedding of chains forged by thousands of years of human civilization, chains we receive in the name of education. A human mind free of all bonds is truly a thing of beauty and of immense power. It is that very power that I speak of.

** Here, I speak of the vision of the clouds that I saw and not of the objects that the clouds really are. What I saw at that moment was much more than merely "a visible mass of condensed droplets or frozen crystals suspended in the atmosphere".

*** I DO NOT refer to any supreme being with a penchant for rolling dice. Also, I feel no obligation to capitalise the word because it is just that, a word. Words have no meaning in the absolute, only ideas do. I use the word merely to describe a state of equilibrium that transcends the mundane. I think John Keats was thinking of much the same thing when he wrote "Beauty is truth truth beauty."

What makes me happy?

A tag from Pingu.

Sunny skies with just a few white clouds.

Good coffee.

My mom opening the door to let me into the house.

Dark chocolate.

A glass of cold water on a hot summer day.

The smell of fresh cut grass.

The sound of waves.

Stepping out for an ice cream during a snow storm.

Good comic books/cartoons/anime/movie.

Sitting down to a hot self-cooked meal (especially when it's something exotic).

Spending an entire day on my couch looking at cloudy skies listening to jazz or mood rock.

Orange popsicles.

Watching the sun set while sitting on a hill top with my feet dangling over the edge.

Writing, sketching, making model airplanes.

Saturday mornings.

Re: Yeh thi khabrein aaj tak, intezaar khijiye kal tak

This is in response to "Yeh thi khabrein aaj tak, intezaar khijiye kal tak" on Pingu's blog.

I think 'journalists' and news anchors these days come off an assembly line managed by a bunch of egotistic cretins in some B-school (wonder if the B indicates the grade of the institution in question). They are all the same - all confirming to the same LOW standards, all with the same illusions of grandeur. Poseurs and losers!

All they have accomplished is the perversion of the once-revered fourth estate into an abomination in the service of greed, deceit and authoritarianism. They rant and rave incessantly about trivia, leaving real stories to rot away from the public eye. They trivialize and sensationalize events that do matter, until the public is sickened. But worst of all they spread fear (without reason) and help undermine democracy (whatever's left of it).

William Randolph Hurst once said "You furnish the pictures and I'll furnish the war.” At least he knew what real journalism was and so he could tell hype from news - even when he was the one creating the hype. In contrast, today's losers swallow every bit of their own circus acts and actually believe they are jornalists. How PATHETIC!! Hardly any politician today is worthy of being called a statesman just as hardly any news reporter/anchor today is worthy of being called a journalist.

Pardon my strong language in this post but I have nothing but contempt for their kind and even that is more than they deserve.

Human life

Disclaimer: This is by no means an attempt to answer the question of life, the universe and everything. That answer has already been published - it is 42. What we have here is merely a discussion of one man's perception and how it has changed.

But I am only human…” Countless are the times I have used these words to justify my mistakes, my faults to myself and to others. After all, our flaws are the very things that make us human – at least that’s what I thought. But I see now, how that single notion was the defining factor of my perceptions, my actions, my very existence. I was too lazy to change, I knew it and yet I was too lazy to accept to myself the wrong in that. The result was a young man with a very myopic vision, bereft of direction.

Add to that, the fact that I saw myself more through the eyes of others than through my own – I was looking at myself from the outside when I should have been looking outward at the world from within. I concerned myself more with who I was perceived to be than with who I really was. Even when I was being a rebel and a non-conformist, I was trying to be different instead of being myself. The result was constant turmoil within – a tug of war between the person I was/am and the person I was trying to be. As a result, I often did things that caused me much hurt, not to mention the pain inflicted upon to those dearest to me – I was by no means blind to the truth, yet I was somehow powerless to stop myself.

And then suddenly I realized one day that I’d changed and that the world had changed for me. There was a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment that had always been missing from my life before. There had been no epiphany, no lifting of veils, but my life had practically turned itself upside down (rather it had finally up righted itself) – I’d found once again the lost joy of childhood; it was as though I’d come full circle. And when I thought about it, I realized how simple it had been – I’d finally learned to detach my perception from that of others. This had opened my eyes to the truth that happiness is not merely the byproduct of the pursuit and attainment of ones goals but that happiness is itself the goal and everything else but byproducts. I’m sure that every 3 year old knows that. Yet as surely as we grow bigger with age, we lose all the wisdom of childhood.

All my rage, hate and cynicism had been mere symptoms of my lack of perception. With the realization that the pursuit of happiness is really the very purpose of life (at least to me it is) came recognition of the things that give me joy. I live to satisfy my curiosity – to try and solve the mysteries that are so abundant in nature. The moment when the solution to a problem begins to take form in my mind, the moment an idea is born, that moment is what I live for. The pure joy that it gives me leaves no room for any pain or sadness. And it is at such a moment that it hit me – humanity is not in the flaws, it is in the recognition of flaws and in transcending them, even if only for the most fleeting of moments.

I realize finally that my life is really all about "my" "life". Don’t get me wrong. I do not suffer from illusions of grandeur. I recognize fully how trivial my existence is in the context of the universe. In fact, it is my belief that the existence of any individual has no purpose (in the context of the universe). But that does not bother me; I revel in it – life doesn’t need a pre-ordained purpose to be sweet. Life is whatever one makes of it; purpose is whatever one wishes it to be. And to me, the purpose to learn, to experience, to enjoy.

It's here... finally!

After much delay, mostly due to my own tardiness, it's finally here - Macnife's Nano-reef Blog. Although it's still in a very rudimentary state, I promise lots of photos and info real soon!

Rot

What becomes of a man after death? So many of us desperately seek the answer to that question. But I, Rengasayee Veeraraghavan, graduate student, know the answer. Yes. What becomes of a man after death? He becomes a statistic. Pathetic as it may sound, it is the truth. No matter what he may have accomplished in life, no matter what the manner of his death - he just becomes a statistic, for death is the great equalizer.

Let me present my case before you judge me a cynic. "Nothing is certain in life but death." When a man dies, it does indeed impact the living to varying degrees - people may grieve over his loss or they may celebrate his passing. But none of the emotions of the living have impact the dead. But the collective memory of humanity has a very short life span and eventually all that remains is a statistic dutifully written down somewhere, to last relatively much longer than the memory of the dead.

Our perceptions of the lives and deaths of other men depend on how far we are separated from then in space and time. Do any among us really grieve for our distant ancestors? How many of us even know much of the lives they led? And what of the multitudes dying every day in some corner of the world far removed from our miniscule awareness? What do we do when we learn of people killed by terrorists and imperialist nations in the Middle east, by starvation and disease in africa? In the worst case, we hardly bother to disguise our apathy - uttering a couple of inane words expressing emotion, openly feigned. The somewhat more sympathetic among us may contribute our two cents of spare change to some charity and move on with our lives. But what do we really know of the dead beyond the statistics? Do we know how many of the dead were doting parents or loving children? Do we even spare a thought for the bereaved? WHAT DO WE KNOW BEYOND STATISTICS?

But what of those individuals who dedicate their lives to helping their fellow men? The noble among us. I neither deny their existence nor do I discount the magnitude of their deeds. Indeed, so colossal have been the deeds of some, that we may think they have impacted humanity itself. But have they really? For instance, Abraham Lincoln and Mahatma Gandhi are two such men - their ideas and actions have impacted the lives of countless human beings. When Lincoln abolished slavery in the United States of America, when Gandhi liberated India from the British yoke - no small feats - they changed the course of human history. They even implanted their ideas and values into the hearts of many.

Yet, the bigotry, hate, apathy and greed that tarnish humanity as a whole remain undiminished. Not even the most significant events in our history have been able to cause changes that aren't merely cosmetic. For example, slavery may have been abolished in the so-called civilized world but has that stopped men from exploiting their fellow men to serve their own personal greed? HARDLY! The lot of humanity has more or less remained constant through history. Just like life itself, human nature is an irrepressible force - it will always find a way. And it is the rotting core of humanity itself that deserves blame for the way the world is.

So how then do we save ourselves? We don't. It's too late for that. All we have to look forward to is our inevitable extinction. Until the moment of our end is upon is, we will continue to remain wrapped up in the cocoons of our pointless pursuits, blissfully ignorant of reality. The only consolation is that none of it would have mattered, even slightly, to the universe. In the words of George Carlin, "we started off as a species with much promise but now we're just circling the drain."

Let me leave you with these words from Albert Einstein - "The release of atom power has changed everything except our way of thinking...the solution to this problem lies in the heart of mankind. If only I had known, I should have become a watchmaker."

PS. Still think I'm being cynical? Just read the news.

Random rants 2

Our existence is all the more precious and sweeter for its fragility.

It is perversely funny that through the course of human history, more people have been killed in the name of God than for any other cause – testimony to our limitless ignorance.

Nobility necessitates, to varying degrees, acting counter to Darwinism – what remains to be seen is whether it is a fatal flaw or redeeming virtue.

Human perception is inherently relative, a fact we often forget. The only way we are able to perceive the absolute is through the absence of stimulus.

That all knowledge beyond that of one’s own existence is at some level or the other, based on arbitrary assumption(s) is a fact seldom recognized.

The principle of moderation is applicable to everything - everything but chocolate.

While one may think he knows himself from years of temperate existence, he can only be sure after having stared into oblivion from the very edge of the precipice.

Hedonism is for those too naïve to comprehend the nature of happiness.

Macnife's Reef Blog: Coming soon!

The past few weeks have been rather eventful for me and my two marine aquariums. I finally got my home tank set up the way I wanted and I've got most of items on my livestock wishlist... for now. The older office tank has also been through a series of minor changes, with a couple more being planned. Both tanks have pretty much stabilized and look very close to what I had in mind.

I've finally started seriously shooting pictures of my tanks and I figured it'd be fun to start a new blog to put up these pictures with some information about the organisms. As a rank newbie at reefkeeping, this will also be a good way for me to learn more.

At the very least, I can promise that at least the pictures will be interesting. So 'ang on to yer knickers folks!

Doodles

I just happened to pick up my pencil yesterday evening after approximately 3 days short of forever. A few hours of timeless fun later, I realized I wasn't too rusty after all. (to be understood as "I was never much better than I am now.") Anyway, here are the fruits of my fine evening.

I've never been good at drawing people. So when I decided to try it yesterday, I decided to be nice and make myself the first victim. Notice that I selected a picture where I was still recognizable without my face being visible.

The things I was good at sketching are animals/birds/body parts (biology stuff), macho machines (fighter aircraft, guns, tanks... you get the idea) and comic book characters. So I figured I'd try one of those and then take it a step further.

I sketched out this negative image of the Batman and then played around with it on Photoshop.

Some simle contrast manipulation and a little thresholding and lo and behold!

Boy, am I glad I picked up that pencil! This is another one of my erstwhile hobbies that I've decided to revive. And just to make sure I don't slip back into laziness, I'll put up a sketch or two on this blog from time to time.

Vultures indeed

Being as far from financially savvy as I am - given the choice I'd keep my money in a tin box - I had never heard of vulture funds before I read this news article on the BBC.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/6365433.stm

The little I learned about vulture funds was enough to make me sick to the pit of my stomach. These people buy up the debts of the poorest of nations just as they are about to be written off and then sue the country for the full amount plus interest. They are no better than the animals who stole trinkets off tsunami victims.

However an equal share of the blame belongs to the callous bankers who allow these 'vultures' to acquire the debts of poor nations. They are no better than the criminals who put guns into the hands of children and turn away, blind to the consequences of their actions.

All I feel at this point is anger and helplessness but this issue must not be allowed to be swept under the carpet. Something needs to be done. I wish I knew what.

Farewell

Art Buchwald died earlier today. Saddened as I am at this loss, I must accept that all good things come to an end. I am glad for having experienced the phenomenon that was Art.

I'll always remember his weekly column in the Hindu - each instalment gave new meaning to satire. He never pulled his punches yet delivered them with such subtlety and finesse that even those on the receiving end of his criticism could deny neither the truth nor the humor in his words.

Here are a few characteristic quotes that come to mind.

"You can't make up anything anymore. The world itself is a satire. All you're doing is recording it."

"A bad liver is to a Frenchman what a nervous breakdown is to an American. Everyone has had one and everyone wants to talk about it. "

Art Buchwald, you will ever be missed and your words never forgotten. It still feels "Too Soon to Say Goodbye".

Legacy of the unknown soldier

Remember not, the likes of me.
Remember not, the likes of me.
For I am done with the world of man.
Spare me the glory so vain,
Make me not shrink in shame.
Speak not of the deeds of mine,
Worthy though they may be.
But just once, whisper my name into the dark night,
For into it I have gone.
Remember not, the likes of me.
Remember not, the likes of me.
Peace is upon me at last.

Note: This was written a long time ago. I just found it today among a bunch of old files.

Random rants

This post is a disconnected pot-pourri of random thoughts I've jotted down over a period of time.

________

Thus, sword in hand, he mounted his majestic black Arabian and charged, eyes-aflame with defiance, with nary a care into the heat of a battle already lost. It was a sight that tore at the hearts of his brethren and yet he rode alone – none possessed the strength of conviction to throw away their lives as he had done. He had always walked alone, up in the clouds for he was an idealist.

A madman questions that which no one else does. A wise man answers those questions.

Let them see, and let them burn with anguish over their faults for it is they who long to become me but seek to lessen their sense of inadequacy by watching me fail! But I shall not fail, I shall not falter! For I seek not to prove them wrong but only to prove myself right.

What is politeness but respect feigned?

I am not strife. I am the eye of the storm – the calm at the heart of the chaos.

In order to feel alive, one must recognize that which separates the state of being alive from the state of not being. And the best place from which to see that is the thin line that separates the two states – skydive today!

Let him cast the first stone, who is ready to be shot.

A paradox is but a truth not yet understood.

Scientists now suggest that the passage of time is merely a quirk of human perception. Time itself does not flow. So, even though the clock suggests otherwise, I’m not really late to work.

Of all things breakable, silence is the only one that can never be broken quietly.

In the past, I’ve been wrongly accused of getting into fights. It was always someone else that started the fight. I merely ended it.

I do not spend much time pondering water under the bridge. I can not swim, so what’s the point!

To those who remark on my being “out of shape”, I say this – ROUND IS A SHAPE!

Existence is the only truth. All else is perception.

What I would love more than anything, is to comprehend infinity and nothingness.

Once I fell, a lifetime ago. And for a long time, I lay where I fell, unable to overcome the inertia, until I nearly became part of the very earth I lay upon. But I’ve risen now and I walk tall. I know that I will fall again, but I also know this – that I will get back up every single time.

Why not? That’s more reason than I’ll ever need.

I do not believe in destiny. It is an idea born of the folly of men unable to comprehend the enormity of the universe and the triviality of their own existence.

Life does not need a pre-ordained purpose to be sweet.

In nothing I trust. At least not until I’ve seen the data.

I’m not a Bohemian by choice. I am merely unable to accept anything not based upon sound reason but sadly that’s most things conventional.

People need to realize that money means nothing. And they need to write off my debts.

I seek to look upon the world with the wonder of a child and see it with the wisdom of an old man.

Have you heard of the seven deadly words? These are words that are censored from television and radio broadcasts. I ask you, is this not the silliest thing. If we really valued the innocence of children, we would stop doing such things as lying to one another and making war upon our brothers. Instead this censorship of mere words is pure sham.

jubilé argenté

What is the reason for the existence of this blog? While walking home one particularly delightful evening enjoying the sunset and contemplating whatever a man of my infinite frivolousness would contemplate, I made an arbitrary decision that my writing skills, feeble and rusty as they had become, did not deserve to die a slow, silent death in the darkness. Thus was born into existence an idea that has since become Macnife speaks… crap.

By the time I’d dusted my pen and started writing my very first post, I realized that a blog would serve as more than just a writing workbook. It would provide me with a medium for much-needed periodic release of the junk that accumulates in my mind but more importantly, it would afford me a certain unique freedom – I could just dump my thoughts out there instead of writing them down in notebooks that I invariably lost track of, as I had previously done. While I would be able, through my blog, to share my ideas freely with anyone with the inclination and time to spare, the fulfillment I gained from writing would not be contingent to the existence of such beings. It was a win-win situation for me.

I started blogging with earnest vigor but at the back of my mind was always the apprehension that my inertia would overcome all other concerns after a few posts and my blog would be consigned, as was many an interest in the past, to a dark dusty corner of my mind that I refer to as the desert of dreams that could have been, never to be disturbed again. Thankfully, that has not come to pass, at least not yet. 25 posts in 6 months and a score of days… that is consistence uncharacteristic of me and I’m quite pleased with myself.

If you have read any of my previous posts, you may feel compelled to ask me what I think I have accomplished to feel so smug about - aside from speeding up the inexorable increase of the entropy of the universe and adding to the endless loads of crap that burden the Internet. Well, my intentions never reached beyond merely giving my thoughts form that their existence may be less ephemeral. It was also never my intention to choose my ideas for meaningful content from the point of view of the average reader. My goal was merely to write, which I have thus far accomplished and myself-willing, shall continue to do so. This blog is among several things, all of them rather recent, that represent the departure of my life from its previously consistent pattern - coulda, shoulda, woulda, didn't - and for that I am glad indeed!

PS. I do not know any French beyond the few words I've picked up from restaurant menus. The title was a translation from English, achieved through a most judicious use of the Altavista Babelfish program.

Food for thought

Those who know me know my passion for food. To me food is sustenance for the soul* as much as it is for the body. Food is a sensation, an experience, fine art… yet it is, on a much more basic level, a necessity.

There are very few things that one can experience on so many levels as food. On the one hand, one eats to merely stave off hunger, as sustenance for the body. Yet, even at that level it can be a pleasure. Not much can compare to the pleasure of eating even a piece of stale, dry bread when one is on the verge of collapsing from hunger. At the other end of the spectrum is eating for the sheer experience. A finely prepared dish, even served in the most miniscule of portions, can inspire a sublime pleasure such as one feels when beholding a scene of breathtaking beauty or when listening to a melody divine.

Oft forgotten is the fact that food pleases more than just the palate. In fact, it is one of the few pleasures that can be experienced through every one of the senses… the sight of an artfully garnished pastry, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the texture of a fresh strawberry, the delightful sound of a cookie cracking… each of these sensations inspires as much pleasure if not more than the actual taste of those foods upon one’s tongue. If anything, Pavlov showed this to be true, at some level, even of dogs.

This idea that food is a necessary pleasure forms the basis of my approach to both cooking and eating. Cooking to me is like composing music. One must blend the notes in just the right fashion, arrange them in just the right sequence in order to achieve aesthetic perfection. And just as with music, the variety in food is infinite. There is the simple shepherd’s melody played on a pipe and there is the fresh apple. There is Beethoven and there is crème brulèe. There is grunge metal and flaming hot szechuan cuisine. There is enough variety in food to more than match any other form of art for its diversity in intensity, complexity and every other attribute there is. Thus, I think of ingredients akin to elements of music – while vanilla may be compared to the soft sounds of the piano, chocolate may be compared to a cello’s soulful tones and a red chilly to the soaring notes of a guitar solo. A good dish, like a good piece of music, is one that achieves harmony between these diverse elements.

And as with music, my preference in food is rather catholic** with but one caveat – I shalt not kill***, i.e. I am vegetarian. Aside from that I’ll try anything – boiled seaweed, raw mushrooms, bitter gourd, habaneros – and there are very few things I do not like. The only things I hate are monotony, monotony and monotony. In this respect I am fortunate to have a mother whose culinary wizardry, any cordon bleu chef would be proud to possess. Add to that the wonderfully diverse culinary atmosphere of Madras and you realize that I grew up in a gourmet’s paradise.

It worried me in no small measure that I would be leaving all that behind when I moved to Salt Lake City. But the move here opened up new avenues for me to explore than it closed. And my constant need for culinary experimentation has resulted in numerous joyous hours spent in the kitchen and some very interesting results. Results that I have mostly enjoyed, speaking of which, I’m off to concoct my next plat du jour. Bon appetit!

____________________________________________________

* - No, I am NOT referring to that immortal thingy that transcends death and time that supposedly is the essence of a living being. I believe in no such thing. In fact, I will believe nothing until I see the data! I use the word ‘soul’ simply to refer to a certain aesthetic sense, a higher sense than one’s survival instinct.

** - I use the word catholic in the first sense of the word as listed below and in that sense alone. I have no affiliation with the Pope.

cath·o·lic / [kath-uh-lik, kath-lik]
–adjective
1. broad or wide-ranging in tastes, interests, or the like; having sympathies with all; broad-minded; liberal.
2. universal in extent; involving all; of interest to all.
3. pertaining to the whole Christian body or church.

*** - I shalt not kill, for the purpose of eating. By no means should you underestimate my lethality should you foul up my mood. ;)

Note:

1. This post has been a long time coming but somehow the words just wouldn’t flow until today.
2. As clichéd as the title is, I still like it.

Dull drivel

It's been a while since I've written anything. And I feel a driving need to do so now. I need the release... all this pent up energy needs to come out in a sustained slow burn or a dramatic supernova! Burn? Supernova? What the heck am I talking about? I haven't the foggiest but I have a feeling I'm going to like it.

For starters the past couple of weeks have been a bit of a blur. A quicksand like monotony that leaves one without enough energy to do anything to break it. Work has not been the problem... quite to the contrary it's what has kept me going. But what happens when I’m not working? Nothing! I feel heavy… a feeling that reminds me of a hot, humid tropical afternoon, the kind when it feels like the sky itself is weighing down upon your shoulders. Part of the problem is that my body clock has gone AWOL… I believe it is on vacation somewhere a few time zones away while I’m still here in SLC! Who in heaven’s name gave my body clock permission to leave me? Sure as hell wasn’t me. And how does it feel? It feels like I’ve been channel-surfing through my days and catching nothing but the same dumb ads on every channel! That’s a little messed up. But not nearly as messed up as insomnia! That, my friend, is a whole different ball game.

That’s right, insomnia! Imagine waking up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night only to realize that you’re not yet in bed and your eyes shut off no more than ten minutes ago. Imagine lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling until suddenly it’s no more than a few inches from your face. Imagine staring into the pages of a book until you start seeing ants run up and down the spaces between the words. Imagine looking at the clock one moment to see the hands at 1 am and to turn around and looking at it after a few minutes later to see the hands at 5:30am… you wonder where the hours went but you do remember every song you listened to. And when sleep does come at some ungodly hour, it brings no relief. Instead it brings dreams… visions of a gray world set to a background score that is something akin to the sounds made by a ceiling fan squeaking for some grease as it rotates at that odd pace that is neither slow nor fast but is annoying in the extreme. It makes you want to lash out and tear up everything in sight. Only, you can’t move… you can’t even shut your ears. Scary thought, huh?

If you still don’t understand what I’m talking about, picture getting stuck on a long bus ride next to a bigoted, narrow-minded, conservative know-it-all who acts so “nice” it makes you want to gag. Yes, you know the kind… the kind that can’t stop telling you how right they are and how wrong you are… in the politest terms of course. And all this after they’ve known you for all of 3 minutes. The conversation feels like something between a visit to the dentist to get a tooth pulled and sitting in a car without air-conditioning on a sultry summer afternoon, staring at the barren landscape as you wait for an endless cargo train to roll by at an annoyingly slow pace. By the time you get off that bus, you’ve lived a lifetime in purgatory… every neuron in your brain screams for a violent release. People like this remind me of the immense black cloud of mosquitoes that circles above your head just after the rains… they don’t attack you all at once but instead adopt a spirit-crushing pattern of random bites. If only you had a flamethrower.

Speaking of spirits being crushed, picture trying to accomplish the most trivial of tasks in a bureaucraZy – running from pillar to post until you fall to your knees screaming and weeping in defeat.

Now why have you been picturing all this depressing and disturbing imagery? Why, for my entertainment of course! All that I’m saying is that you don’t know dull until you can tell apart 256 shades of gray. Now that I have transferred my entire load to you, my dear reader, I shall retire to bed. Oh sweet joy, my body clock has skipped back a couple of time zones. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!