Life, Logic, Fairness and being Screwed!

July 10, 2009 at 9:01 pm | Posted in bong, How To, King markiV returns, life | 8 Comments
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Before we even get started with the eulogies, let me make it clear- this is not a random rant about life and how or why my girl friend broke up with me. Nor is it about my laptop raising its body temperature to egg-boiling levels before promptly shutting off every five minutes, before I can get the eggs out of the refrigerator. Better yet, this is not the teary outburst of approximately half a year of coma. No. Though that should come about later… This, like all my other philosophical posts, is about philosophy. Let me go a step forward on that- this is the anti-philosophy of all philosophy. In the next few lines lies the absolute objective universal truth of all existence. Of God, the supernatural, luck, and everything else that we wake up praying to and go to bed cursing. Here lies Life!

But first, if you haven’t noticed, my blogging frequency at least to the untrained eye has moderately  reduced. Im not sorry… Of course that in no way implies that I did not have anything awesome to talk about- just that I forgot what.

Those that know me, occasionally, tend to think I am too much of an egoist. I do not openly disagree. Interestingly though, the past few years have given me significant chances to rework in that area. Not that I no longer hold my shield of ego within… But I have gained the ability to look at my ego as an independent entity that can make its decisions and often times take care of itself, maximizing its economic needs within the constructs of bounded rationality. Over the half a decade since I left high school my ego has been thwarted, squashed, thrown around, belittled, mocked, trodden upon, chewed, torn, slammed against the wall, politely been refused entry into discos and then some more… Of course there have been times when it has been hailed by the crowds, lifted high up in the air, admired and awarded. In most cases I try to be the true companion, motivating and cajoling over a drink when it is hurt and celebrating with a drink when it wins.

The point of argument and/ or debate is not whether such an ego is deserving. Comments in that angle that does not make the former happy will be truly moderated and such commenter, spammed.

It is just that you cannot much point fingers at that. Philosophy tells me Life has been here far longer than me and therefore is the bigger of the two. I do agree in all my humility. Where I come from the older are taught to be nicer to the younger- to give in to their whims and fancies. In which case Life here has just played the part of an adamant old oaf… An egomaniac. And such is the examples our elders are leaving behind!

They tell me life is a teacher and I must learn from the lessons taught. Well, the teachers in school probably did not have as much to say as the old guy, but at least they told us the chapters we would be tested in…  Moreover life isn’t exactly Wikipedia that I run to for a reference.

And then they tell me life is a bitch. I try not to even get imagining life as a women, probably a few hundred centuries old, wrinkled skin, evil laugh, black lipstick and tight red skirts. Yeeckk! Some bitch!

I’ve heard people say Life is a game. A game with infinite players, playing by their own rules and with no definite win, end or score. A game that does not have a season or even come with beer. I digress!

The worst I hear is when someone tells me “That’s Life”. It’s one of the few things that make me want to go up and punch them right on their nose. “No, THAT’s life”! It doesn’t even make sense- if what just happened WAS that famous Life, then people that have been looking for it all these years would have had no chance of knowing it because it just happened. Worse still, the rest of the planet and all those yet to be born are now tumbling down a definitely meaningless existence hence forth. Life has already happened. Moreover, if the person did truly believe he just found the Life that humans have been looking for (and my ex-girl friend asked me to get), shouldn’t the observer be far more excited at the discovery? And finally, even if that were indeed Life, by merely noticing it the other guy assumes himself smarter than Socrates, Pliny, Aristotle, Einstein and Steve Jobs. Which is just about arrogant because that’s me!

The point is, through the years I have heard a million odd proverbs and analogies to Life that just does not seem to conform neatly into what has become. For now, let us assume that there is a purpose to our existence. To be fair then, we must assume such a purpose exists for all of us. If we were to then build on chaos theory, then the actions of even a single person out of this purpose would break the entire equilibrium away, implying that randomness cannot be factored into existence at all. We are therefore led to believe in fate and destiny. Obviously then the concept of free will becomes irrelevant. Therefore the entire charade called life that most of us go through is part of an elaborate play written, directed and screened by God.

If that were true, then why would the nice God that created me put me through anything but a life of chocolate ice creams, booze and women dying to steal at least a glance from me? Why would he create a world where I would have to live in almost-no-internet conditions, do my own laundry, cook my own food and drink instant coffee?

As a preliminary answer, let us begin by assuming monotheism- a concept almost all major religions seem to concur about. If this God that staged these plays were the only God, he would then have to be the only audience as well. And so, just to make it a bit more interesting, twists and turns and counter plots and irreverential loops must be put in. And factor in a lot of stupidity. And more loops. A fair, balanced life just doesn’t make an interesting episode!

Either that or there really isn’t a God and these are just randomly permuted events, and humans have evolved as logical creatures out of pure chance, thereby breaking the anti-logic that created them in the first place. No fair!

And so I bring to you, after a six month sabbatical’s worth of thought- Nothing.

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The Evil 25…

February 13, 2009 at 12:29 pm | Posted in bong, King markiV returns, life | 10 Comments
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So, yeah… I got tagged… Quite obviously, since my blogging frequency has come down to one a year, and considering I lost that two followers I had the day I started including rationale in my writes, it makes sense not to expect too much of a push from my fellow bloggers. Shame on you!

Well, this time, its a tag from Facebook, thanks to Giri. And the tag rules are almost too simple to not seem stupid. Except that they are…

25 Things about me! 

Oh, yes- I got a smart one… Let me use “Me” in third person. Like “Me” is an interesting creature, originally from the tropical rain forests of Beasant Nagar, and violently transplanted to the Just-As-Bad-If-Not-Worse jungles of AmrieKa.

OK. Stop. If you found this line of thought funny, I seriously suggest you mine Orkut profiles of high-school kids for soul-revealing humour. 

OK, that said Im going to answer this one in all honesty. And truth. And honor. As usual.

1. Im a genius. My third standard teacher told me that in the year 1992 (approx. when I was in third grade). And I’ve believed her word ever since. I don’t keep contact with her though, in the fear she might have sobered up by now!

2. I don’t like people. As in, not your ideal socio-path types, but I just generally look at fellow mortals as moving blobs of ideas, logic, a bit of knowledge, sufficient alcohol, spare change and bubble gum. Funnily enough, most of my social circles and the discussions thereof circle around why social circles and the discussions thereof are so pointless.

3. I detest movies. This is probably an extension of rule 2, but Im not really your theatre kind of person. You’d have to drag me by my big toe to get me go to the movies. I think its just the effort involved- youtube seems good enough!

4. I don’t care. And this one statement probably wouldn’t be shattering that thin fabric of crap-paper you call your heart if you ever knew me, and wouldn’t matter if you did not, but I just don’t. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I couldn’t care less to offer an explanation.

5. I am NOT lazy. I don’t exactly come across as the honey-let-me-do-the-dishes-and-the-laundry-while-you-work-your-appetite-to-eat-the-dinner-i-cooked person. But that is closer to “stupid” than “hard-working”. Most often I expect to be the person at the receiving end of this conversation. But that again is “Wishful Thinking”, not “Lazy”.

6. I have a moderately inflated ego. Just a bit. But well, Im a genius and I know it- what do you expect.

7. I get bored. Pretty easy. With stuff, work, humans… I think it is a creativity thing. Or, a real mental disorder. Either way, its at least fun!

8. I am not extremely religious. But my religion lets me do that!

9. I love exaggerating about the poverty levels in India and watch firangs’ eyes go all crazy. Like the other day I was telling one of my lab mates how the government rounds up all the poor people in slums in India and neuters them so we don’t have any poor people in the next generation. Got one of those priceless expressions!

10. I hate it when people assume I must know EVERYTHING about computers, programming, mobile devices, space shuttles and alternate fuel technologies, just because I got my bachelors in IT. Or even when they assume I must know anything about it at all. Haven’t you even HEARD of Charulatha Publications?

11. I have a very powerful faculty of reason. I can reason myself into doing anything stupid.

12. I love my temper. But who doesn’t, right? Except that I have spent years with the great Shaolin Monks, mastering my emotions, that now when I try to get angry I end up being more laughable than scary- the MoJo JoJo types. 

13. I think. A lot. 

14. I love hearing about me. Not from the ego-inflating part- Its fun to hear your juniors and those that just weren’t there “spice up” a bit of nothingness just to make their story look good and end up giving you a surreal larger-than-life legendary image, just because you were unfortunate enough to have been in the scene.

Note to my PSBB punch-makers: I did not beat him up in school. I hardly even pushed him. And I definitely did not run around the block twice chasing him and his hoodlums down with my gang. One- he did not have a hoodlum. Two- I did not have a gang. And Three- You cannot run around the block- there was a wall blocking a full round, remember?

15. I have an interesting mood pattern. Happy->Unproductive->Bored->Depressed->Productive->Happy. Repeatable.

16. I hate it when people take arguments personally. And I hate it to have to break down my logic more than once. Even if it makes me sound profound.

17. I don’t care about music. In fact, up until pretty recently, Id get a headache if there was music running in the car. I have an IPod I barely use, and a big sound system with sub woofers and all that that just lie around to remind me of my humble beginnings in technology. Im n0t giving them away.

18. I love my decision making/ taking capabilities. Instincts, Logic, Coin flip and Google. Not necessarily in that order though. “I-Wonder-What-This-Button-Does” kinds.

19. Im a scorpio. I love that sign and all but I hate all these astro-guys for their claims. What, are all scorpios supposed to be the same? Then what makes us any special? Except for Sagittarious though. Im glad I wasn’t born in that pig sty planet!

20. I ve never been too enthu about sports. Thats just a nice way of saying someday, I will rise to become the evil overlord of the world and will ban the Cricket, hang Arvind and Karthik* upside down in the Kilpauk stadium and have every former cricket player whack his rear end with the bat! And then burn them. The bats, I mean. For now.

(*Mottai maadi cricket champions circa 93-94, merely because they were each 6 years older than us, did all the batting, and made us “next gen” kids run down 4 stories to pick up the ball while they celebrated the glory of their unfocussed, badly aimed sixes from our 15X10 feet terrace!)

21. I kind of like history. From an anthropology angle. I hate geography. We had a history-geography split up in high school social stdies, with 60 for history and 30 for geography and 10% for civics and economics. Id get a nice 50 odd in history. My high school social never crossed the 65 barrier. Go figure!

22. I have an awesome memory for important facts. This does not include dates, numbers, names, faces, appointments, promises and the likes. 

23. I think I experiment a lot. Some people call it “fooling around”, but yeah- that’s just them!

24. Im a fast person. I need to get things done when I feel the heat. Right here. Right now. The ideal gestation period of my idea is between two hours and a week.

25. I blog. Markiv is the inverse of the name my parents gave me, in case you still haven’t figured it out. I know it isn’t the most creative, but I love my name. Especially when the firangs pronounce it like “Wee-Kh-Wom”. I don’t like it when the use the “Wee-Kkum” version. That’s a whole 60% reduction from the original.

All Hail Pee Eich Dee…

January 30, 2009 at 2:05 pm | Posted in bong, King markiV returns, life, work | 6 Comments
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Times’ been slow
Since I got my feet
Off fair grounds
And in, this deep
Leaving home
To get all wise
And before the year
Broken thrice
Crapped and pooped
In search of light
Stupidest decision
In hindsight
In comes the experienced
With wisdom, sound
Of years, stuck
Of being around
“But that’s the way
Its done, you see…
That’s the way
Of Pee Eich Dee..”

Smarten Idea-
More Ex, More Y
I need more Data
“Sir, one more try?”
A beta here,
And a gamma there
Differentiate alpha
And throw a square
But that’s just the beginning
Of this tale of woe
Partial it out
With the vector’s Doe
Wake up in the morning
And get all dressed
Then tear it out
“It won’t regress”
So the cubicle’s set
On the chair all perched
Google, Orkut, Facebook
In the name of research
Then there’s the break
As humans deserve
When you get all guilty
Try to graph that curve
“Its not linear, sir-
Its just not flat,
I can’t adjust that R-Square
Or derive Y-Hat”
Can’t question the process
Can’t scream “Why Me?”
Apparently that’s just
The Pee Eich Dee!

The day wears on,
To the break of lunch
Get off my comp
Break off that hunch
The fridge is empty
So eat out once more
Like we did yesterday
And the day before
What will it be?
We could have Chinese…
Tasteless rice
“More Tofu, please?”
Or we could go dashing
For veggies in bread
And try to remember
Those days, well fed
And there goes the billing
All my savings, spent
Seven wholesome dollars
And twenty one cents
Oh, did you expect
They’d give it off, free?
Just ‘cos I’m a poor victim
Of Pee Eich Dee?

So that all done,
Its time to rest
Admist five journals
And two more tests
That paper isn’t reviewed
And Mr.Lagrange can’t wait
But that FB game
Is too good a bait
Until you realize
Your work’s out of scope
And diversions keep pushing you
On the slippery slope
Deadlines to meet,
Motivated by fear
Wake up, realize
You’ve got five years…
Frequently questioning
The purpose of life
A longing glance
At that elusive knife
And to the end you think
What is it worth?
When all but boredom
You’re in forever, dearth…
A doctor before
And nothing much after
And you get down thinking
Does a name really matter?
Its all transient
But I’m going to flee
Adieu to you
Hail, Pee Eich Dee….

Death of Paranoia

November 24, 2008 at 1:50 pm | Posted in bong, life | Leave a comment
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The darkness is closing in. I can feel it. Today must be the day… I have been waiting for this moment for days now… Years… Scared, careful, nervous… I run down the silent lanes, trying to hide between the shadows. Why did I ever leave the crowds? Surely that would have been safer.

I turn around now, hoping to see him. I have never had much of a glance, but I know he is in there. I can feel him eyeing me, always ready to pounce on a moment of weakness. I must know. After all, I have known this dread since I was ten. Perhaps earlier, but I couldn’t remember.

Yes. Between talking to friends in the group, while walking back home, on the drive. I have felt him all the time… It has struck me at times that the imposter could perhaps be disguised as a true friend in the group. One could never be as careful. Groping around in the dark, searching for that tinge of vested interest. For in the dynamics of the world today, one can be destroyed in ways far more devastating than the bullet.

I am sure I have heard his footsteps following me. A talented agent, he sure is, but even the smartest make mistakes. Yet his greatness is in covering his steps just as quickly, ever ready to be driven back to alertness. And one must give some leeway for the patience through over two decades… Like a shadow… A masked terror of death that I still cannot but awe…

My pace gets quicker. I can feel his breath on my side. I have tried confiding the truth to apparent friends in moments of drunken trust. I have been certified paranoid, to the extent of doubting my own sanity. But it is only the truth.

I can trust no one. Not the silence of darkness, nor the crowds of murderers. I can sense the plan in motion. Time is closing in. The predator is tired of the wait. I must start running again. And this time, only faster…

The pain of the bullet is now sinking in. Suddenly I feel no more pain. I smile at my genius flip over the enemy’s guard. Unexpected, I tell myself. The feeling of cold steel burning in my flesh. I drop the knife from my hand. I have beat him at last. I have made his years of chase futile.

I stop. There is no one following me. The world is not out to get me. The crowds are running, late to work. No one seems to care for that bleeding victim. No time for another lunatic. I see the crowds, still about in a blur of red and black.

Perhaps I was truly paranoid all my life. Perhaps there was no one to begin with. Perhaps the enemy never felt me that important.

Insulted and unimportant the corpse falls into the dark lonely side street. A mere corpse.

Of Years, Days and Time(s)…

November 12, 2008 at 8:40 pm | Posted in bong, King markiV returns | 4 Comments
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It must have been about this time last year. I guess it must have because my birthdays so far have been fairly consistent in date and time. Frowning at the mokkai already? No wait, don’t close the browsers or start typing that “Happy Birthday” comment right away!

If there is one thing I really adore about my birthdays, other than the fact that I was born on that day and time, is that they are highly predictable, repeatable and fairly consistent. Love it or hate it, but wake up on the morning of the thirteenth day of the eleventh month, year after year, every year (after the mid 80s), and you can be fairly assured that its my birthday.

Well, not anymore. Longitudes, time zones and the presidential elections to blame! All my life, in physics, math and logic, I have been taught about the consistency of time (under baseline limitations- don’t get me started on poor Albert now). A good six months or so ago, I made a decision with minimal forethought on its implications on possibly the most important day in my non-research-grant-awarded, not-yet-doctrate-obtained, non-US-presidency-winning, non-married existence. I decided to follow educational pursuits half way across the globe.
 
Caught in a time wrap, stuck in the past by a good half day, in the place I thought was centuries advanced in thought and deed. Now if that doesn’t make this confusing enough, add a liberal dose of day-lights savings in, and there you are, with a complete loss of day, time and hour. 

I shall go with the flow of time, as great philosophers of my kind often do. Its my birthday on the 13th day of the 11th month. On the 12th hour (in the pm) of the 12th night if you will. Eastern standard time. Its my day and I shall hold it on my time!

PS: Blaming the time zone is not an excuse- if you haven’t wished me already, you will be eternally damned in hell!

How to Fall In Love- Part 2

November 6, 2008 at 2:01 pm | Posted in bong, How To | 9 Comments
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A Lesson on Prospecting….

Last weekend was truly a reality check. An awesome trip through nature, enjoying the sight of fall leaves withering,cold and dehydrated…taking pictures of them, as they fall down to the ground dead and lifeless. A beautiful sight worth romance indeed.

That was also when one of my closest friends told me he was getting married in less than a year from now. Flabbergasted. My first hit-on-the-head that my age had crossed those goofy college years was when girlfriends told me they were getting married. With others. Blame arranged marriage, but girls my age are now either too busy nursing their babies or developing them, that they are no longer on the list of prospects. Legitimate babies, mind you.

But well, Boo (name changed to protect identity) is the first guy in the group thats taken this “last step forward”. That he is also the only guy in the group with anything even mildly close to female companionship is immaterial at this point of discussion. And Im pretty sure that all the other guys are going to run in too. One has already resigned to letting the elders do the sights, and I hear his jaadhagam (astronomical grid that has the address of the bride/groom-to-be) is already on the front cover of Mylapore Maami’s Guild. Another is sifting through Bangalore hoping to reap something worthwhile, and has accepted my advice to sport the devdas look. 

Last weekend I also had the benefit of deep discussions with famous philosopher Chirayu. Yes, that’s a name. This post is, in fact, the juice of this genius discussion. Genius, primarily because he agreed with most of what I said, but Im going to go with the fact that this ingenious philosopher is older (by 6 months) and wiser (has a Masters) and therefore speaks objective truth. 

The Art of Prospecting

If you are 24, indian, male and single (and not trying), chances are you are going to be that way for a pretty long time to come. Except for the 24 part, that is. And after a point, the trying part just doesn’t matter either.

Remember that boyfried-girlfriend couple in college? The one that wasted their time going to merry-go-rounds in MGM while you headed to the TASMAC? Remember thinking about how they were wasting their young days and individualism? About how you were laughing when they told you they were going to get married the day they got out of college, just in case they ever did? Sit in a corner and cry now, moron. And then join me for another TASMAC, if you will. 

When guys are in high school and start going out with their first girl friend, they have dreams of a beautiful marriage, a house with dogs (kids are still out) and a good life ahead, By the time they get to the middle of college with their fifteenth, the thought cycle doesn’t get much beyond transplanting saliva, and hope to transfer genetic material as well. By the thirtieth its just trial and error.

Women, on the other hand, start with a trial period before maturing into a dream-angel-that-did-not-go-out-with-markiv stage (termed ‘soul’ in classic Tamil literature)*. By the time they move to the final years of college, they have it all figured out.

 

Assuming a guy and a girl are in true, eternal, divine, deiveega love, lets run a root cause. The girl could have lost hope of repeat romance and just stuck on to the trial, or experience and societal pressures could have pushed her to commitment. Obviously the optimal case for the ‘Guy’ parameter is if this were his first (and only) relationship. Ever. 

Now, guys, don’t just close your browsers already. I know your love history most likely resembles Mount Road surface after the rains, but we really got something for you too.

Now back to the analysis. I don’t really think there exists a high enough chance of a newbie guy going out with an experienced other. Riffs would erupt, egos would mount, hell would break lose. And the girl would just sign the guy off as a kid. No. That must not be. Most often it is the firsts from both dimensions that seems to work.

That brings us to our predicament- yours and mine. The next is probably not going to be your first. For the remainder of this discussion, lets assume that you, at least briefly at this point, decide to make this your last. Face it- the years are running through. Guys around have started sealing their duality. Girls your age are out. Reality!

Prospecting begins with understanding the problem. Indian girls generally get married around 24, with a threshold between 22 and 26. Familial pressure starts at around 21 and most girls give in and leave the matter to the afore mentioned mylapore maamis guild by about 23. Further most of this set would be off the candidates list by their 24th birthday.  

Most good looking girls, 24 and over, still not married either have a very high pressure tolerance or are already committed. And there is a good chance that most 23-and-over lovers end up getting married. Not due to any higher maturity here, but simply because they have far lesser time to hate each other before the marriage-age (as opposed to the good 6-8 years from early college). Not much of a chance here.

And if a girl looks good and has been warding off the pressures at home, despite being single enough, there is a good chance she has been getting a lot of RFPs (request for proposal, you non IT nits!). And if she still remains single, chances of you going out with her are pretty low. Especially for someone who has to read blog posts on How to Fall in Love!

But the bright side is, women tend to know that guys would tend to know that if they (girls) were single at 24 the chances of a guy asking them out is pretty low (due to the afore mentioned). That makes them more desperate at a threshold age of realization. I would ball park this at around 22-23. 

There you go- find a beautiful, single, non-pressurized-but-likely-to-be, indian girl and time your RFP to the threshold age. Oh and did I mention smart? In case that leaks out (and that is a good thing) just make sure she understands the “Guess 2/3 of the Average Game”**.

Note: If you are 26 or older the game’s up for you old pal. Trust the Mylai Maamis. 

PS: If you are a girl and think you satisfy the good looking part please do send me an offliner. The Mylapore Maamis have it against me ever since I wrote this!

Claimers and Otherwise:

*- One may assume that some women, most women or all women jump over this stage, depending on the amount of feminist one assumes oneself to be. 

**- In case you are too tired to read through, this is a game in which each player’s move is his best strategy, based on his assumption of what the other players would pull. Like speculation in the stock markets. 

The Art and Science of Argumentation

October 30, 2008 at 2:15 pm | Posted in How To, King markiV returns | 4 Comments
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 ‘Conversation, indeed!’ said the Rocket. ‘You have talked the whole time yourself. That is not conversation.’ 

     ‘Somebody must listen,’ answered the Frog, ‘and I like to do all the talking myself. It saves time, and prevents arguments.’ 

     ‘But I like arguments,’ said the Rocket. 
     ‘I hope not,’ said the Frog complacently. ‘Arguments are extremely vulgar, for everybody in good society holds exactly the same opinions. ‘

 

 – Oscar WIlde, The Remarkable Rocket.

I, for one, am a true lover of arguments. In fact I see no reason why one wouldn’t.  There isn’t a better source of entertainment in all of mankind. Except romance perhaps. Now that is a topic worth arguing!

Plus all the addition to your knowledge bank than a smart enough argument brings in. Existence of God, the correctness of terrorists, international politics, movies, attitudes, love… That is the beauty of an argument- you don’t have to necessarily believe in your stance. Just take one and break the opponent. Quite obviously, one does not have sufficient data in an argument. Of course I cannot prove the existence, nor inexistence of God. If I did, I would either start a religion or a political party. The point being, in an argument one is fielded with insufficient data, left to percolate through one’s rationale and perspectives to build a sufficient justification to one’s stance.

Now, a debate is different. By definition, in a debate both participants have pretty much the same amount of data available and therefore the subject matter is merely interpretation. On the contrary, in an argument, the arguer’s objective is to surprise the arguee with new data. The edge could be in the arguer’s capability to obtain some knowledge that the arguee has not yet received, new or old. Often times, however, both participants know sufficiently low enough information on the subject that the breaking flash is from information quite not related to the question at hand. No- I am not talking about the Palin types.

The greatest source of inspiration for bringing this indisputable unrelated data to the current argument table comes from social networking- specifically the six degrees of separation. Simply said, you should be able to connect any two random people in this universe (in fact any two events, incidents or things) in approximately six steps. There are different ways of doing this. Let me explain with a worked out example using the “same community” theory. 

The basis of this theory is to figure out how two people would know eacho other, assuming people in the same community would know one another.

For example, lets try and connect the tamil legend MGR, to, say, Michael Dell.

1. MGR’s grave is in Marina (Anna Square area)- which makes him part of the famous people at Marina Beach Community

2. Paul Dinakaran, the famous christian evangalist would be part of this communtiy as well, since this was his landing stage for most part.

3. Guy Kawasakhi and Paul Dinakaran would be part of the Evangalists community (Guy was the Apple evangalist in the 80s).

4. Steve Jobs and Guy Kawasakhi would obviously be in the Apple community.

5. Quite obviously Michael Dell and Jobs would be part of the “Will My Start-Up survive as long as I do?” community.

There you go.

I am pretty sure that if you only gave it a good enough thought you could connect any two random people- living, dead or in a doctorate program. 

Let me give you another one. Now try to link up Ramadoss and Jackie Chan. 

1. Ramadoss is part of the “I-know-supporting-LTTE-would-get-me-votes-but-Id-have-to-give-up-my-ministerial-seats” community, sitting right next to Karunanidhi.

2. Karunanidhi is part of the “Used-to-be-in-movies” community, along with Danush (he joined it after Pudhupettai, his only 3 on-screen hours worth classifying as a movie).

3. Danush and Jet Li are part of the “i-look-like-bruce-li-so-i-probably-am-him” community

4. Finally, Jet Li and Jackie Chan are the only surviving members in the “shit-when-is-the-next-flight-from-hollywood-to-china” community.

I could really go on, but thats not what this post is about. Try out the six degrees experiment for yourself- it could be a lot of fun!

Coming back to argumentation, the next skill set is placing a well defended premise aroung the argument.

Lets take the now all-so-frequent economy arguments. Since the arguee would most often take the offensive, punishing the economy for their lack of foresight, you would be left with having to defend the genius of the economists. Since that pretty much allows very little space for well fielded points, a smart enough arguer would move to reductio ad absurdum- reduction to the absurd.

Perhaps I hold reliable data about the prevalence of Aids amongst south Asians. Which makes south Asian markets unstable due to diseases. Since the whole of Wall Street except for the occassional “made in China” computers and “made in Bangladesh” suits beats by the pulse of south Asian markets, a troubled socio economic condition there would obviously carry its effect here. Moreover, the economists had nothing whatsoever to do with the prevalence of Aids in South Asia since they are mostly overworked and often impotent. So there.

Another tactic that I often use is called the slippery slope. Here instead of a premise backing up the argument with data, a number of logical effects are built over the causal argument, resulting in a catastrophic result.

For example, lets run through the argument of two neutral voters- one favouring Obama and the other McCain (yes, they exist). Just for discussion, let us assume that the voters are not fanatics (you must see this city!) and therefore not initially biased against the other. Under the given conditions, the McCain voter votes for McCain, and presumably McCain wins- whatever the reason (rigging, racial bias, high voter turnout, rationality and the likes). The not-so-logical majority would, however, assume the result to be a case of rigging. The country has endured a non-democratic election once and probably wouldn’t a second time, resulting in rioting, picketing and internal conflicts. This would further the already sinking economy to rock bottom, carrying down with it emerging pro-capitalist countries. That leaves us with the Chinese as a superpower. Imagine having Tofu and Springrolls as a global cuisine.

Thus voting for McCain would result in having to eat spicy Tofu for the rest of our lives… With chop sticks! 

 

 

I have finally invested in a domain for myself: http://vikki.me

I will, as frequently as I choose to, blog at http://vikki.me/blog starting my birthday (so I can keep count of the timeline and stuff; plus it helps my ego!). I hope to make that site a collection of marketing stuff- thoughts, ideas, plans and results, obviously with my theories as well. However this space would go on for a bit longer. I hope to continue mainstream randomness, Reena posts and the likes here.

If you do know my birthday, please check vikki.me then. If you don’t, open the site everyday and keep refreshing it every twenty seconds until I throw an announcement.

P.S

How to Fall in Love….

October 17, 2008 at 4:50 pm | Posted in How To, King markiV returns | 6 Comments
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I have decided to write. I have been wanting to for a while now. No, not just on this blog. The irregularity here, I have pretty much consoled myself to.  Perhaps even reconciled to the inability, googling and wiki-ing writer’s block and a thousand other phrases that could merely justify my lack of initiative.

I have even been talking about moving to my own domain. I don’t know why. From the looks of it, even the ownership of this space, with its sporadic posts, most of whose quality no longer impresses my sophisticated clientele of two, is a bit too off target. I either need newer ideas, which aren’t coming in, or newer clientele, that aren’t thronging either! Then again, I have the cash, and everybody with any internet knowledge and cash are buying their own domains. So Im just going to get mine and justify the venture to myself with the claim that it would at least suffice as an address when I get into doing what I eventually should be doing- making more money.

Anyway, this post is not even about any of that. This is a post that I have been wanting to write, perhaps even before the launch of my first blog ever (I have subsequently had three before this one, all killed due to illness, disease, old age and bad frequency).

No, its not the average run-off-the-mill How-To post. I can pretty much throw a guarantee that an honest following of the directions below would find you in truest of true love. If you don’t I’ll give you back every penny you paid for this advice right here.

Quite obviously, those in true love would never even think of commoditizing their apparent pot of gold, while those outside would ideally not be advice-worthy. Therefore the great responsibility comes down to me, the knowledgeable, wise and good. And since the knowledgeable, wise and good are currently working on Open-Source G-Phones, its my word against yours. And the comments are moderated.

For starters, let’s begin with a basic defenition I would be using in a greater part of this post, and any follow ups if my end button starts working again (got pulled out during a game a couple of weeks back and though I don’t really much ever used the key, the difference is kind of distracting). The concept of singularity and duality. 

Any sixth grader would know that these glorious words take roots in advanced particle physics. Science, maths, philosophy, Swamy and a bunch of other documented crap would go great depths to bring in the various absolute, relative, objective, subjective views of these concepts. And to give them theri fair credit, their contribution has been to the greater good of mankind- you and me. Actually, it hasn’t….

But well, the meaning should be pretty obvious. Singularity is a status of single-ness, a term used to define one’s inability to impress a girl, and further cover it up with excuses of quality, attitude and preference. Duality refers to the status of non-singularity, marked by the existence of a single person in two states- the boyfriend and the girlfriend.

The uncertainity theory clearly states that it is impossible to claim, with 100% confidence both the state and level of desperation of a person. That is, the surer we are about our percieved singularity or duality, the less certain we will be about our level of desperation. Therefore, the truly single or dual person tend to live in ignorance of their own despo status until external realization dawns in, muddling the clarity in their status.Further, extreme duality may be associated with a nagging sense of foreboding, and a total loss of individualism. The terms could further be extrapolated to single-dom, though a specific dual-dom does not exist.

The concept of existing in more than two states, wherein a single boyfriend can peacefully co-exist with more than one woman is laughably negligible since peacefully and co-exist are impossible assumptions in the subject matter of two girls. In similar light, since multiple boyfriends tied to a single girl break the very purpose of a girlfirend- to break any form of intra male communication channels, this again is not a case worth consideration.

Now that we got that cleared, this post is a guide to move from singularity to duality. I do not endorse the move, however. Nor do I oppose it. In fact I understand the pains of either side pretty simply put.

Let us analyze the case of singularity here. I go as much to put forth the hypothesis that singularity is often not a field of choice. If you are living a solo, pathetic life with no one to call to on those boring evenings, sitting around commenting on the hours your not-so-single friends spend on the phone, and getting unwarranted “How To”s from every tom, DICK and hairy, especially female dicks and hairy’s, I don’t really believe you are enjoying those glorious moments. I know you yearn to have a beautiful tamil-movie-love that brings joy to your existence. I know it sounds like a sad life. That’s probably because it is. And its not even worth a debate- I say so!

On the other side, if your life consists of hours listening intently to meaningless gibberish on the phone while your “free” friends are having a riot commenting around, bound by having to make those incessant phone calls every few hours and pretty much have a tied down life with neither time, nor patience, nor energy, nor the independence to do what you would logically assume to be greater pleasures of being a man, that couldn’t really be much fun either. Since logical people would not take this upon themselves, one would be motivated to claim that duality, therefore, is not a field of choice either. However, since we are talking about the romantics here, the assumption of logic in the previous line does break down.

The point being- love is a field of choice. It probably does happen miraculously when you bump into the perfect one across the library or when you thrash the bunch of assholes who were throwing sexist comments in her vicinity. There again, the assumption of “perfect one” is quite questionable. Moreover, I wouldn’t presume the average reader around here (direct and those who google for stuff like this”) to have ever walked around a library, let alone beat up meanies. In fact I could quite safely assume you’d be amongst the guys making those sexist comments.

No. I hate to break your heart. But “Love through Accident” is not for you. Don’t get disillusioned by taking the accident part too literal. You’d rather have an auto guy put you in that hospital and that humungous middle aged mallu nurse aunty at Best Hospitals sew those cuts than a hot babe that looks down and goes “achachooo”.

No my friend. The only way to break the single barrier is through strategizing. Through careful planning. Contigencies. Deep thought. More strategizing. Generous donations to my paypal.

The first step in your elaborate plan-de-plan (anything to do with plans, secrecy or love have to be French. Anything with a “de” in the middle becomes French!) is to define the viewpoint. I have observed successful relationships over the years, success defined merely by the ability to coexist in the same room with less than three attempts to murder in one hour. In general, the plan-de-plan takes one of two decisive game plans. The cockroach plan and the mosquito plan. While both have their obvious advantages, the use of either technique is completely an individual choice.

The planning phase, which pretty much consists of identifying the path to be taken and the initial prospecting, is fairly common. At the end of this phase however, the experienced player should be able to determine the mode of operation to get started with the conquest of love since each mode takes drastically different approaches to this issue.

The Cockroach Plan: A sumptuous dinner waiting on the table. Another cup for the coffee. And who must you find waiting on the sink’s edge?

The best, and possibly the most satisfying solution cockroaches is to strike them multiple times, between their second leg and the mean distance between the third and end-of-body point. Of course the trusty broom would do just as good- breaking their body into unidentifiable pieces and throwing them around for other roaches to eat, therefore pushing them towards a degeneration of their moral fibre, decadence and an eventual destruction of the roach civilization.

The cockroach plan takes a pretty similar view point. Strike with minimal resources, but strike fast and efficient before the victim (love-ee) has a chance to realize.

The Mosquito Plan: Ever so gently as you drift into the glorious semi-dream pre-sleep state, sinking back into the soft comforts of your bed, the covers thrown lazily over your torso, imagine that irritating whistle as the most elusive of beasts flies by.

Waking up and trying to kill that mosquito would not generally have the same effect. You could shoo-shoo them all night and still they would have gotten enough of your blood to donate to Hindu Mission Hospital. And the whistle would continue. The mosquito-way involves technology. Procurement. Your sleep is pretty much ruled out tonight, but tomorrow could be secured with the mats and coils and creams and sprays. The pleasures of watching those flying dingbats get drowsy and fall off as you drift into peaceful sleep, inhaling more monoxides than you would care is in itself worth last night’s bite.

An important note here is that the mosquito plan requires a more detailed plan than merely point-and-shoot. It requires the investment of time and capital. A slow diffusion of thought. However, the mosquito plan is generally more workable than the cockroach plan. Especially because there is a lesser chance of you coming out looking stupid if the plan bombs.

Now, now, don’t jump in yet. This is merely the tip of the iceberg of an elaborate thesis. Yes, my friend. You can fall in love too. Or at least hope to. May be not, but then, that’s just you.

 

P.S.: I hope to put up a follow through post. Sometime.

P.P.S.: I am also getting married to the girl I have been in love with for over nine years now. 

P.P.P.S.: No, Im not really, but that’ll teach you not to waste time around post scripts.

No Longer Invisible!

September 15, 2008 at 5:46 pm | Posted in bong, King markiV returns | 16 Comments
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I got a phone
After a month of cloak
Can’t hold no longer
Thought I’d croak

So what’s the deal
So great, to speak?
What’s in a phone,
Such pride, to seek?

The model ain’t great
Plain Vanilla, the kind
But then you ask
A story, don’t mind

A good half decade
Before “G”s came thrice
Or so I should tell
My communicating device!

It started with hutch
or RPG
It was far in too yester
Its hard, you see

However then,
A postpaid run
The puppy, they claimed,
Loads of fun

WAP and SMS
and tonns o’ tone;
Downloads and stuff
sold on the phone

A wax, a wane
a month of joy,
The puppy and I
How the time did fly

The honeymoon went on
No cons, just pros
A bomb in mail
To pay through my nose

No! I said
I need a check
I’ll pay in the begining
and save my neck

Life went on,
The puppy, naught
But now he was fed
Right in the start

All was cool,
until the groups;
It was, afterall
free for coups!

“Time for change”
I said to me
“unlimited calls,
and its even free!

“I wouldn’t want to miss
Couldn’t sit back;
The puppy is nothing
against the maestro’s track”

Talk all day
Stay in the groove
Talk all night
But talk? to who?

Conference calls
All night yap
With them people
I was almost trapped

The puppy came,
A second rescue
I ran before
My brain got skewed

Changes did come
In time and place
The puppy i held,
In every face

Now so different,
I have no doubt
In the land of dreams
But the dog’s out

Free phone, they say
Free airtime, mate
Forget the puppy
Forget your fate

I got my number
A month’s gone
But (at least) I’m contactable
From night to dawn

Oh! Did i tell you?
In, Outs don’t matter
Its the time that counts
‘When’ you choose to chatter

The nights, they claim
are all just free
But anytime else,
“Oh, Poor me!”

So give me a jingle
Drop by, a voice
And if i don’t pick up
Its the time- bad choice

The globe looks nice
a-t-and-t
But nothing like being followed
By a little puppy!

Thus, another Avataaram

July 3, 2008 at 2:05 pm | Posted in bong, King markiV returns | 6 Comments
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My theories are often counter intuitive, but this one had me totally surprised. Just ended up watching Dasavatharam and didn’t feel anything spectacular about it. Just another color-color flick…It must be all that hype that surrounds the act that raises expectations to levels that can never be achieved, finally just ending the victim up with disappointment regardless of the initial worth of the act. It happened with Sivaji, and now with Dasavatharam again. And mind you, I am quite a fan of both super star and world hero (corny name).

But that’s not what Im going to be getting at. What worries me is that Tamil movies, like any other big-money business tend to follow a proven track of success. That is, until the track is sufficiently worn out, raped, plundered, withered, dried and gone. There was a college movie phase, seeing the invent of the likes of Prashanth and early Ajith. An initial success until there were movies with anybody who just stopped their scooter (this is the early to mid 80s) near AVM studio. A beat up story involving the hero riding a Yamaha RX100. Standard Ctrl+C scenes would include a college tour to a hill station on a beat up bus (with a banner saying “College Tour”), song, possible rape of asst heroine or attempted rape of heroine (heroine must always be virgin- even if married, divorced or with kids) by college rowdy. A few hundred movies with the same plot, story line, song sequence and long shot scenes until it stopped selling.

Then an action movie phase, a non-fighting romantic hero phase, police phase, criminal phase, zamindar plot phase, hero-comes-to-pattinam phase… And that’s what scares me. With Dasavatharam turning heads already, I hear Rajini’s coming up with 20 roles in his movie.
The trouble is, there’s a good chance that movie would run as well. It’s the Super Star for Christ’s sake! But it wouldn’t end there, would it? Lets just go ahead and extrapolate the consequences. How many could have the heart to take 25 Vijays in one movie? And Ajith fans wouldn’t be too far behind either. But that’s not what scares me either. At least these guys make entertaining masala.

So I just go ahead and imagine the icing of multi role movies- the true apple of our eyes. But to make the task simpler, lets put in the Dasavatharam plot. Only lets cut budgets by removing Kamal, Ravikumar, Himesh, the light and camera crew and all the other actors, extras etc. Starring TR!

A great actor needs to create a great space around himself. The plot revolves around TR, a DoD laurete who researches on integrating WMDs with poetry. An eloquent repeat of “Thatti Paathen Kottangachi” results in the gruesome creation of little superstar. In a parellel run, thousands of years ago homo sapiens hunt down not-yet-evolved cross bred human-bear populations. This part, like the original, has nothing whatsoever to do with the plot, except its one extra role for our hero and no makeup! Heres a rough of TR on this role:

 bear

Basing my trust on the readers creativity I shall stop short with the plot and just give the equivalent of each character:

 George Bush: Veerasaamy as the all powerful MLA because both always end up getting me in splits of laughter. No matter how serious they are.

the sophisticate

The police guy: Vakeel Dhada from Kaadal Azhivadillai as the bringer of justice because they act pricey and have a nasal tone.

the don

The scientist guy: The Kaadal Daasan from Sonnal Daan Kaadalaa (that wise love guru+ poet) because both are the inventors of the WMD but end up acting like heroes. Couldn’t find a picture or a video of this so if you find one do send it across.

The dumb tall guy: Cameo dance in that Vallavan Song. The acting required, and elasticity of movement is just the same.

The Japanese Marital Arts guy: The martial arts expertise and timely punch dialogs during the fight… Who else but Vaa Daa En Machi.

That sand quarry guy: The witty lawyer speaker. There couldn’t be a better fitting role- both guys talk too much and look disgusting. Although one tries to look good- TR doesn’t need to TRY!

The Paati Role: Our hero could never get down to being a woman, let alone an old hag. But delirious and stupid- a definite!

tr rand

The Singer dude: The sad thangachi sentiment role that shot him to stardom- boring!

Ex CIA Villain Guy: I couldn’t find a part where our guy could even be remotely bad, but the closest I get is this.

Oh and by the way, if such a movie did come you could be sure I’d even buy black tickets to watch it!
 

 

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