zmm quote

“A person filled with gumption doesn’t sit around dissipating and stewing about things. He’s at the front of the train of his own awareness, watching to see ...

the speaky plant

conversations
some turn soft, like fruit, and rot
some lines like carvings in stone stay
some are lost, a few are banished,
most are forgotten, some are cherished
but your conversations are not you
and mine are not me
and we would be lost
were it not for the cherishing

mirrorspeak/song of the scorpion

what does it matter, little grasshopper
that you can talk and sing
of sun and grass,
your words on our deaf ears play

all we have are claws which grip
and an acid laden tail
to speed you on your way

black is our hide
and dark is our heart
here no sunbeams play

sunshine and song we despise,
be warned ye who try to mend
our gloomy ways

hiding ,hidden, hid
among stone, rock and cracks
we like to chatter in the shade

be nice to us and
we'll sting you to death
for we are the fallen grey

alone we wish to seek
and keep the sorcery
the magic of the worlds

alone we will dance
at the twilight sublime
at the fire mystic
us alone, none else

and we refuse to rhyme

so

another day in paradise
another one bites the dust
be happy, it's a way of being wise

waking

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes

they say

everything contains within it the seeds of its own destruction.
So let's eat all those doughnuts before they self-destruct !!

so far

lit a leaf fire in the backyard, filled the place with smoke
saw a car with neon underlighting
had to plod through the rain to nearby food place to buy tiffin.

did you know that Damascus steel was manufactured in India, and that the complete 1984 movie is available online ?

devotion

Ednaswap

Did you know that Natalie Imbruglia's Torn is cover of Ednaswap's original ?
sigh !

help request

kidnapped child - now in an orphanage - they're looking for her parents

do help out and/or pass the info on
link here

babbling brook boltoi

Edward Abbey said:

In metaphysics, the notion that earth and all that's on it is a mental construct is the product of people who spend their lives inside rooms. It is an indoor philosophy.

super being

video and pic

this one's a good video. It's a guy fast-motion video of a guy driving from San Francisco to New York, shot from behind the driver's seat, I think. The road trip footage is pseudo-nostalgic - meaning it makes me nostalgic, though I've never done that sort of thing before. The cities in fast-forward motion are beautiful clusters of glowing lights, the countrysides are just as beautiful. Take a look, if you have time.

pastime

can't wait for 'The Departed' to hit the theatres around me. Praying I don't miss watching this movie while being caught up in a flurry of activity. Matt Damon and Mark Wahlberg together in the same movie - this is going to be interesting ... people are going to be sooo confused.
They're showing Ffolkes ( North Sea Hijack in the U.S.A ) on * tv - but family is watching the usual wailing soap
oh, the agony
this video is terribly entertaining

for douglas

Just watched the movie version of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy .
The film is a tribute to Douglas Adams in a way the Phantom Menace to the original three Star Wars wasn't. The film-maker is definitely human and the undertaking more than. Hence no criticism. Magrathea is wonderful.The Vogons are done well. The Vogon Ships are a work of art. Halfway down the movie I started giggling uncontrollably at seeing the whole thing come alive.... on tv, that is.
Two things I loved - is the title opening with Journey of the Sorcerer song with its eerie thrumming ( which wouldn't have been a surprise if I'd read about the original radio shows - apparently, they used it regularly ) and Zooey as Trillian ( sigh! ).

it's a day for riding

horse sacrifice

if you wanna ride
don't ride a white horse

Laid Back
"White horse"
(Tim Stahl/John Guldberg)

Pic lifted from here. If the costumes seem out of place, look again , it's not the ashwamedha

And now for some old favorites -

Growing up, there was a time when there was only one channel on t.v and programmes were made with the intention of doing more than capture eyeballs.

Roshan Seth as Nehru in the Bharat Ek Khoj series is a memory that carries over very pleasantly - the Nehru topi and the pleasing drone sitting right next to Swami and friends , Girish Karnad's Turning Point and Prannay Roy's The World this Week. With the internet, it is more or less impossibe to leave anything completely behind.
this & this will cheer you up ( or make you cry - depending on your style )

In the age of mirrors of mirrors, I got this from soumyadip who got it from somewhere else who ....

And in case you're curious, they chants are from RV 10.129 and RV 10.121 respectively

fuel oil from plasic bags

link

fuel oil from plastic bags ? yes, it's true - a couple are also making money from it.
truly, the mix of technology and human creativity is just wonderful ...

don't you wish

the short lebowsky

Now, if you're a Big Lebowski fan, say you've watched the movie once, twice ,fifteen times, know the script in your head, have grown a 'dude' beard, have taken to drinking White Russians, fallen in love with Bunny or even Maude (brrrr!) or if you make beaver pictures or just watch them, it doesn't matter :
you HAVE gotta watch this
I did, and it f*kin blew me away.
nsfw, btw
Now, if you think you're done there, check this too

monotonous neocortex decay

like I said

science fiction isn't
link

jungles of distraction

whalesong

Don't call me Ishmael.
It's 10.30 and I'm listening to recorded whale noises (www.whalesong.net). It's supposed to be relaxing. eBay has 'Recorded Whale Noises :Various Artistes' on sale - my first impression was various artistes !!! how crass !!! - then, as the realization dawned, it became various artistes !!! how cool !!! -
They sound like cows, these whales .. drawn out cow noises ...
I don't want mom to waking up terrified thinking that a cow has got into the house, so, after designating tomorrow as listen-to-the-whales day, operations shall cease for now.

serious reading

designed to put you to sleep
link

Johnny be god

no, no typo
here's a link to an article which tells us why the world we know today is a gift from John von Neumann.
Btw, it's pronounced 'noy-men'
and yes, he's one of the gods

my very own

eye in the sky
It's not really 'mine' by any stretch of imagination. But it's mine, like the Earth is mine.
A really wonderful video, an almost religious experience ( which _could_ be 'coz of the Pink Floyd )
We really under-estimate science...

on a tombstone

Do not pass by my epitaph, traveler.
But having stopped, listen and learn, then go your way.
There is no boat in Hades, no ferryman Charon,
No caretaker Aiakos, no dog Cerberus.
All we who are dead below
Have become bones and ashes, but nothing else.
I have spoken to you honestly, go on, traveler,
Lest even while dead I seem loquacious to you.

weekend blues

when you wish that it were a weekday so that your regular T.V programs come on ...

e-mail forward

old one
quite scary


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sun is rising as usual in the east. I'm standing here outside the school,waiting for my 10 yr kid.He studies in class 2. Only this year he could get admission into the school. For the last 5 years admissions were closed for the general category students.School bell rings. I can see a lot of happy children coming out of the gate, I waited for half an hour and my kid came at last after other children. Genaral students are not allowed to cross the gate unless other OBC/SC/ST students have crossed the gates. OBC/SC/ST fathers drive away their children in classy cars. But I have to walk back home with my kid a 5km stretch. I lost my car some years back when Govt. came with a rule that general people have to deposit a tax equal to cost of their cars. Failing which I had to sell the car.As far as buses are concerned,the seats in buses are reserved for OBC/SC/ST .So no place there also. After walking some 5km in scorching heat I finally reached home. It was wednesday … shit , no electricity.Every Mon,Wed,Thu,Sat is power
cut in the houses of General category population, so that SC/ST/OBC can be uplifted by providing them with every opportunity and in that consideration electricity is an important factor.
Its 10:00 pm in night no electricity at home. Its very hot inside the four
walls of home. So I dare to step out in park with my wife and kid. I seated
myself with my family on a secluded bench in garden. It was hardly 5 min.A
guard came to us strolling in the park. He asked me what caste you belong to. I said with some hesitation .. G..General.He asked me to pay a fine of
Rs.200 and get out of the park.
My Fault…
The bench I was sitting on was meant for again the SC/ST/OBC. For their
upliftment peace of mind is on essential things. So govt came with this
decision to Reserve benches for them.Kudos to them…
Its early in the morning …the newspaper wala just knocked the door. I took
the newspaper and started reading, its independence day. I never used to
forget this days some 20 yrs back. My kid hardly knows wat 15th august is
,because I never told him any stories of greatness of our country or
anything realted to country.I don't feel like telling him the failures after freedom.
On front page of newspaper, in a corner their is a news about a OBC member getting 6 months impriosonment in "BAL SUDHAR GRAHA" from a juvenile court for murdering and raping a six year old girl. Yes the rules have been amended, since the last 5 years.The Culprit was a 25 year old OBC so age relaxation was provided for trial of crime. So he was taken to juvenile
court, since there is an age relaxation for OBC/SC/ST.
About 11 am some one gave me the BAD news about demise of one of my neighbour and friend Mr.Mehta. I went to his house for condolence next day
,his body was lying there still rotting in the heat. I asked his son about
the Cremation .His son told me " Many reserved category have died yesterday so we are not getting entry to cremation ground " . This rule is the latest from Govt.Where the seats in cremation ground will be reserved for SC/ST/OBC for their upliftment.
Finally next day Mehta ji was creamted. I could see sun seeting through the
Flames burning a liberated Body, liberated from caste n creed.I was surprised sun still sets in the west?
It was about 9 pm , I was about to sleep in my bed my son came to me with innocence in his eyes,inquisitively he asked me the question
"What is reservation?"
I asked him "where u heard that?"
he suddenly burst in tears .. i asked him to keep..quiet
But i could listen through his sobs "mujhe bhi reservation chahiye(i too want reservation)".How can i convince him its no other toy in the market i can get for him?He kept crying that night ,claiming many of "his classmates have got reservation".
To make him quiet i said ok , i'll buy you reservation at your next B'day.
HOPE he understands the bloody concept soon .


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

New York, New York

Start spreading the news
I'm leaving today
I want to be a part of it, New York, New York
These vagabond shoes
Are longing to stray
And make a brand new start of it
New York, New York
I want to wake up in the city that never sleeps
To find I'm king of the hill, top of the heap
These little town blues
Are melting away
I'll make a brand new start of it
In old New York
If I can make it there
I'll make it anywhere
It's up to you, New York, New York.

I want to wake up in the city that never sleeps
To find I'm king of the hill, top of the heap
These little town blues
Are melting away
I'll make a brand new start of it
In old New York
If I can make it there
I'll make it anywhere
It's up to you, New York, New York.

totally useless information

A donkey can see all four feet when standing

More here

shrubs 4

shrubs 3

shrubs 1

funny thing is

loops

Machine City

down

sigh !!

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1074248175740787653

Three men in a boat & David Gilmour

Monty Python grafiti

Make tea not love !!

the Slightly Warm & Always Up club : Memberships now open

from 'Almost Famous' 


    WILLIAM
    (ruefully)
  Well, it was fun.

     LESTER BANGS
   They make you feel cool.  And hey.  I
  met you.  You are not "cool."

     WILLIAM
   I know.  Even when I though I was, I
  knew I wasn't.

     LESTER BANGS
   That's because we are uncool!  And
  while women will always be a problem for
  guys like us, most of the great   art in
  the world is about that very problem.
  Good-looking people have no spine!
  Their art never lasts!  They  get the
  girls, but we're smarter.

     WILLIAM
   I can really see that now.

     LESTER BANGS
   Yeah, great art is about conflict and
  pain and guilt and longing and love
  disguised as sex, and sex disguised as
  love... and let's face it, you got a
  big head start.

     WILLIAM
   I'm glad you were home.

     LESTER BANGS
   I'm always home!  I'm uncool!

     WILLIAM
   Me too!

     LESTER BANGS
    (leveling)
  The only true currency in this bankrupt
  world if what we share with someone
  else when we're uncool.

     WILLIAM
    (distraught)
  I feel better

     LESTER
   My advice to you.  I know you think
  those guys are your friends.  You want
  to be a true friend to them?

William takes a deep breath.  Looks at the research cassettes and
notebooks.  The empty page.

     LESTER BANGS
   Be honest and unmerciful.
   (beat)
  You're doing great.  Call me later is
  you want.  I'm always up.

adam smith

also said that division of labor makes one stupid

happy fish

drinking in the sights and sounds

book/movie review : The Beach

The short of it :
a bunch of junkies set up camp on an island which has a beach with white sand and a poppy field next door with armed guards who enthusiastically discourage prospective tenants by shooting them in the head . Some more junkies join them.

The long of it :
our hero ,friends and the odd girl (odd, not queer ) manage to get past these guards (surprise) and join the group on the island and everybody lives happily ever after. No wait, that would be too boring and would cut the movie in half

To keep the story going , our hero valiantly screws someone else's girlfriend ( all the bikini-ed chicks are someone else's girlfriends coz he hasn't brought his girlfriend to the party - smart move, that ) - and kills a baby shark.
The baby shark's mother bites the leg off of one of the guys, partially in retaliation, and partially out of being bored to death out of having nothing to do

and oh yeah, I forgot to mention, the movie starts off in a cheap hotel room where one of the junkies gives our hero the map to the island, and then kills himself , making a bloody mess in the process. This and the shark-biting-leg scene make up for much-needed variety in color in the otherwise white-sand-white-sky-blue-sear-blue movie.

Baby-face Leo makes it impossible to take the whole living-outside-and-beyond-civillization thing seriously ...

As usual, the book is better.

The book is about a bunch of junkies who find running a house and family, even on a beach with nintendo gameboys around, is not very addictive and not easy at all .. that you have to keep going to town for supplies .... and that the thing about 'there are good neighbours wherever you go' came out of some stoned hippie's skull , whose friends should've fed him to a shark at the first given opportunity

The moral of the story is that the drug trade is doing pretty well, and that if stock from the Beach makes it to the mainland, prices around the world might just come down ...

exorcise

you wake up with a jerk, the dream images fade away to the back of your head as your eyes stream new ones to your brain. The dream's gone. Finally, everything fades except the warmth. Then that too goes, leaving behind just a memory. You hate this. A memory is interchangeably similiar to other memories, and can be forgotten. You don't want that. you fumble through old photographs, run fingers across them hoping to remember that which is gone. It never works. you've tried to move on. Found new people, immersed yourself in hobby projects, self-improvement regimens, gorged on fatty foods.... friends give you space, listen to your tale over a beer, clap your shoulder supportively. In the end, you get off the topic, you're secretly afraid of becoming a bore. You are extra careful with people now. once in a while, you lie on the couch, stare at the t.v and sob you keep wondering "what if .. ?" you actually end up boring a lot of people to tears. You don't want to talk about what's on your mind. You can't talk anything else. You come up with a lot of talk that goes nowhere. things end up going for a toss more often. Reality runs by like an unscripted movie. You can only shrug...
six-to-eight months have gone by. Meaning has returned, so has sense, the scars are more or less healed, but the happy-sad memories come in waves once in a while - reminding you of the immense happiness of those days . You sit at work unable to concentrate, and play little animated games while your boss watches helplessly - yet you are surer of yourself and at peace. you are adrift, looking for a ride to hitch. and you still keep looking back while the memories get smaller, shorter and dryer with each passing day until finally you can look back and not shake -and then you can now start removing the pieces of shrapnel - the thorns, one by one, piece by little piece ...

update

in short, it has been one big groan all along [ don't ask ,for I have not bothered to document my sobstory - but you know the recurring themes already - net access , illness, not being able to eat samosa daily ...]

net access, like a butterfly , dances within reach, and flies off again
so bandobast must be made of the sticking pins and glass cases
or else how will the poor bob survive ?

From the day-dreams and paranoia section : there was a time when I was convinced that the world would soon become out of a William Gibson book. Nowadays, I remain convinced , but remarkably indifferent too ...

The crying need of the hour is a warm gooey donut. I will also settle for a piece of cake, if providence should will it. Or maybe a Starbucks regular - black with no cream or sugar

Brazil fans stand among us, overwhelm us, but my gang stands united behind Argentina, so will I

and now, like the blue whale that comes above water for a few mammoth gulps of air and then returns back to the murky green-and-blues ....

*splash*

mumbai signs

"Please bear with us for a better tomorrow"
- MMRDA
(authority for road construction projects )

"Bear with us"
- BSE

haggard

ate lots of samosa chaat

fell ill, recovered

coughed and cold-ed

came home in BEST bus once

saw the da Vinci Code movie

complained about the traffic

complained about the 'net

still complaining about the 'net ...

from the wilderness

I now know that there are places where internet access is a purely mythical
concept.
Help !!!!

....

am going through the pains of withdrawal . I get on the net once a week. I'm a storm of raging fury and abject helplessness. I get on the net once a week !!!! I think I'll go cry now

move over miss muffet

the spider needs the tuffet
so take your curds and whey
a-way

delicate breakdown

cosmic corn flower

narrow houses

narrow houses in Amsterdam are supposed to be the outcome of a tax law which used calculated tax based on the width of the house

chatter.one

me : wot
an : what is wot ?
me : wot is what
an : is that a joke ?

unidentified flying mushrooms

yeah

it's pretty bad when you feel sad, and
have no one to tell it to

emi doodle do

jumping the puddle

on German-made wings
a bandanna and red beads
reddit at 120,000
piped lounge music

will I know

what it feels
to crunch snow underfoot ?

to ride in the night
on empty roads
and grudgingly arrive
to a warm snug home ?

to watch the beloved trees
bloom and blossom and then
shed their leaves in a twilight symphony
fading into the stark solo of winter ?

familiar faces, cherished places
friends made at the last moment
will I remember them still ?

for a sensible ending

begin with faith

the boomerang turns in flight

it's a bittersweet time - closing time , that is.
Semisonic has a song about it.
So many memories that run past my mind like little rivulets of gold. So many that I can't help but turn bitter that I can't hold them all in my mind.
And a fear that they will never amount to anything more than memories.
That one day the future, I'll look back on all those little memories and decide that they were just a figment of my imagination.
I'm alone for atleast ten cubicles in each direction, barring the small pocket of night-shift-ers five cubes to the south.
My bus will turn up in an hour and half, and it wont' wait for me.
In all this little limitations of time and space, my mind floats peacefully on the tangent realm where memories live.
I've forgotten a lot that has happened in the last year or so.
Packing involves scavenging, and disturbed artifacts return to the surface in the process.
And trigger of the little rivulets of happy sad little memories.
But I can't stay and talk about it how things have changed and I have changed and talk about the things that did the changing with relish and child-like doting. I got to run.
for it's closing time.
and Semisonic's got a song about it.

fat man fade

stop no more

go

the not-so-straight 'A's

.. and blue

my patch of green

seen on the net

free sheeping

time to head home

read

provoke

but of course

worse than being naive is being both naive and verbal

the way

to absolute reason winds past reasonable. Hence the mystic

decay

the odd guitar riff reaches up and seeps into my dozing mind
- a silver stream of memory flowing on the black marble of an empty past - pink floyd's 'Pigs' - it brings to mind empty tubelighted corridors with doors on one side and the silent night on the other, littered hostel grounds and stark deserted vastness dotted with sun-burnt shrubs and dust.
The past holds so much promise . But only in retrospect
The empty wine bottles stand by the sink. The jalapeno peppers have been taken over by a visiting fungus. The vessels in the sink laden with yesterday's soup have become fair-grounds for horde of teensy roaches which run around the roach traps with enviable ease. Dinner has ceased to be the piping hot and wholesome affair it used to be and has become a bony scarecrow-like substitute made out frozen and thawed bread and plastic curries.
So it is with the whole place. Alice's secret garden has been taken by scrooges in cold glasses and shabby hands creasing their ledgers and motley fools in gaily coloured wear, of the big white rabbit there's no sign. Nor of the Red Queen and her quirky lines.
Today's dal holds promise - pungent, evil, and smirking wicked. The blackened red-chillie lends it character. The green chillies I threw in to keep it company provide a tangy freshness which promises to keep you on your toes. The coriander, of course, makes the whole thing look green and resemble a forest. Hurray for sambar.
Sanity's middle name is sambar.
And Wodehouse. Lemme see if I can get my hands on one ....

paper plane

burst

rind

we're done, right, and have been so for a while, right ?
can we go back to being strangers again ?

democracy

under threat
and I'm afraid

seen

"They couldn't hit an elephant at this dist-"
Last words of Gen. John Sedgwick, spoken as he looked out over the parapet at enemy lines during the Battle of Spotsylvania in 1864.

a video, and a mind-control device

found a video of an old classic here.
For fans, the lyrics and the music are as good as ever. The video, I think, looks like something from a newspaper.

I also found this, don't know what to make of it

I would

If I could
But I just don't know what to say

secure

link

V for Vendetta ( go read the graphic novel )
Snowcrash
1984

season d'etre

The darling buds
have popped their heads
and broken rank-and-file
the snows are melted
the skies untinted
and gone is the land's ice-cold veil

Spring is on its way
but the snowflake is melting
into oblivion

the carboy of acid sits
the sunny clime is wasted
on the bright flowers that dare
to seek its dark depths

winter was the season cool
frozen squirrels and dark dead wood
like a nippy crab with quick claws
that ends up on someone's dinner plate

the wintry sunlight fades
with my sting laced with arachnid-hate I wait
for the next sun-drenched wretch
to walk my way

the winter's cold
lies spent and old
like an old man's unheard refrain
the sunbeam and the yellow blooms
mock it with child-like disdain

bus window, 16

how to bug people

me : isn't it obvious ?
friend : what is obvious ?
me : okay, then it's not that obvious for you ...

by the fireplace

wild metal monster, or furry toy ?

just when

you start wondering what the highest purpose of life is, the answer comes screaming in;
the highest and lowest purpose of life remains what it always was: survival

rage

helpless impotent rage. I need my space. I need a study
with an oaken desk, and a window overlooking lush green gardens with hedges and a river flowing by

solitary

Alan Parsons Project. That's what's playing on the radio. Radio ? no no, not the radio, on the computer. FM stations tend to be a dicey matter.

It's after lunch at the office, there's no one around. The corridors lie un-stalked - people don't seem inclined to. Maybe because it's friday.

Alan Parsons Project - The Definitive Collection. It's a two-CD pack. It cost quite a bit - more than what I'd typically have spent on music, but my trip here is winding down, and I'm making impulse/emotional buys. This would be the time to ask me for a big favor.

The cover has the picture of a seashore, with a half-sunken aquarium with 1. a broken porcelain vase 2. a statuette of a topless someone 3. a couple of starfish 4. a toy soldier in red uniform coat and cap

Friday afternoon. After lunch. Empty corridors and a sunny deserted patio. The children aren't out playing. Traffic has started trickling in on the road outside. In a couple of hours, the road will be choked with cars. As the light fades, so will this corporate section of the city bleed out people

I like aquariums. I had one a long time back. It was very rewarding to line the glass floor with sand, and fix in the plants and watch the fish swim around exploring the place, and at some subconscious telepathic level, my heart would tell the fish, "Meee !! all that you see!!! I made it all for You!! you like ? "
( choice of upper-case letters not incidental )

There's a bunch of yellow petalled flowers sitting in a clear plastic cup of water on the shelf . They are from last weekend. Last friday, when I got to my desk, there was a long-stemmed yellow-petalled flower sitting on my desk ( and on everybody else's too, they were put there by the Management, there's no romantic angle in the story, except for the stapler .. )
The petals were closed around each other in a tight embrace. After putting them in the plastic cup of water, they opened up. Now they are of the texture of dried old paper, and their edges are turning brown.

And the water. Swirling water gently moving the stalks of plants & slender weaving fish. The whole thing was terribly harmonious and soothing. The first chapter of Moby Dick mentions the how the narrator would seek out large water bodies for succor when the day-to-day existence was getting too irksome.

Civillized -from old european - means to put in a box.
Civillization is a huge machine clunking and wheezing. Culture is the software,the programs which describe/prescribe/limit the possibilities of each component. There is only so much 'Culture' one can take, hence the large water bodies. Or small ones, captive in amber colored glass.

A friend had asked me once, do you believe in 'God is Truth', or do you believe in 'God is Good' ?
Well of course, if there is a God, he/she/it would definitely be good, by definition, but you notice, the question has Good with a G.
I figure the former people are usually not people persons, because a lot of human interaction does not follow teutonic correctness in purpose and execution, and is not usually consistent. These are the people who are usually left wondering what to say next, or rather, what would be the proper thing to say next, while the latter kind are already yakking away with consummate ease. Hence, not people-person types.
The latter are the kind to believe in co-incidences, lottery tickets and mercy.
Of course, I'm deliberately not answering the question.

The blog explosion is percieved to amplify creative stuff coming out of the heads of the people. It should ideally create a 'sea' of creative parts which can then be searched and components isolated and re-assembled into the next literary Picasso or van Gogh(although I personally believe it's headed more towards Dali)
I believe it simultaneously dilutes the content.
The hypothesis of a million monkeys sitting at keyboards was never tested for lack of infrastructure. Not so anymore.
Differently, an explosion of 'creativite material' is supposed to stem from folks reading stuff on other peoples' blogs, and deriving ideas and inspiration from that. Then creative output is then expected to spiral, re-re-inforcing itself and riding on positive feedback, to touch the upper most levels, wherever applicable.
But mostly, posts tend to be echoes - rehashes of material read elsewhere, opinionated rehashes, language translations, or irrelevant and/or redundant altogether. The spiral tends more to diminish as it races to cover all versions/ possibilities/ combinations of ideas.
The next work of Shakespeare, spontaneously created out of synergy of a million minds ( 75% of them seeking porn, sadly ), is of no use if it is distributed over ten million blogs.
In the meanwhile, to restore lost faith in technology, there's Flickr...

Electronic Arts, the video game company, has made a game based on the Godfather novel. The Don, Sonny and Hagen look like they did in the movie. For someone who has a Mafia logo embedded in his brain, I find the new development, well, disturbing. I am going to find having to shift my affections to be a little wrenching. The demo clips I saw on the net seem glorious indeed. I have a friend who would read the Godfather before all exams. Godfather quotes are cool. The word consigliori is cool
We of course, have to forget that the good Don Corleone was a crook.
Leaving Mafia for this, would make sense. However, Mafia is my first love ( I am irrevocably geek ), thus my dilemma rages ...

It's past midnight and I need to get some sleep. So does my post. But I will not let it get any, instead, I'm going to sic it on y'all.

And oh, I'm clean

street musician,Chicago

apathy

coming soon to a server near you ...

music mystic 1.x

article

science or voodoo ?
Also, 'Ravi Shankar' is not a type of music !!

heed my call

This is NOT funny. Not at all. Pass this on.

bored. to death

paths

Some paths always lead into summer, but once in a while, you have to get off that path for no reason at all ....

photo by the pink-polka-dottie

old times