actuality.log

As you can see, this is continuing a trend to keep posts somewhat-short, so people won’t be put off. Let’s see how long I can keep it up.

I just got off the phone with my mom, and my, how things have changed. Who would’ve believed I would be giving her cooking tips one day?

That’s it, that’s all I have to say about that.

But before I go, I just have to talk about something else that came up, a family-tree. You know you’re a geek when your mom’s letting you know about your family-tree (traversing back some 4 generations) someone’s put up on a website, and you begin to show her how to use diff and patch to submit patches with corrections to the website maintainer.

I found it amusing that I have relatives that go by (legal) names such as Persia, and also interesting that my great-great-grand-pappy(?), a doctor, held the highest administrative post in the land (under the king, something like Chief Minister?).

Sometimes, you come across something and you wonder, “Why the hell didn’t I come up with that?”. Cases in point,

» IT Whore
» Million dollar homepage

Sheer genius.

I don’t know anything about financial markets, but if I’m reading this graph correctly, if I’d put the entire car account into google stock (or shares or whatever it’s called) this time last year, I’d have more than enough money for the car now. And left over change for so many other goodies.

It can’t possibly be that simple.

It was bring-your-daddy-to-school week, and there I was in my daughter’s kindergarten class. I distinctly remember struggling to explain to a bunch of few-year-olds why what I do really is cool and interesting, or even useful.

I don’t think I succeeded, not even with her.

And that scares me.

Fun “science”: Contrary to what intuition might tell you, the muscles in a male’s penis are most tense when it is limp. During arousal, the muscles relax greatly and this results in openings which cause an inflow of blood some 50 times what it was, leading to an erection.

Yes, tense muscles—limp. Relaxed muscles—turgid. Chew on that.

Going out to lunch or whatever with people in this country often results in conversations skewing toward things they’re curious about, but somehow feel you’re the right person to clue them in on—like the concept of arranged marriages. Now I’ve been through my spiel numerous times, and I think I’ve polished it to a fair degree along the way.

But there is still one aspect of all of this that people here simply do not understand, and I’ve stopped trying to bring it up as a result. It’s not that they’re unintelligent or unsympathetic, but it’s just that they’ve led very different lives.

People from my part of the world (or at least I) come from a very shielded and protective environment—an environment where everything is handed to you (for long after it is necessary), and one that provides a safety net for you to shamelessly fall back on at any point in your life. While this is good if you’re too lazy to make your own bed, it is not good if you’re looking to develop into a strong and independent individual, or even figure out something trivial, like operating a bank account.

My point being, they nudge you, kicking and screaming if need be, every step of the way until they (and society) decree you’re mature enough to stand on your own feet. In stark contrast, most people I know here have had to fend for themselves since a much younger age. They’ve had (even if small) jobs since mid-teens, they’ve made it this far in academics with little help because they’re passionate about it, and are a hell of a lot more experienced in the ways of the world.

Sure, they’ve all had phases where things have gone awry, but the important aspect of this has been that they’ve picked themselves up and not been broken. They are stronger as a result, more independent and have been through so much more.

But what does any of this have to do with what I started off talking about, arranged marriages? Not much really, but the biggest problem with the system from my part of the world is that the child never really gets a sense of true achievement.

For instance, parents put you in a good school after spending a lot of money. Even if you don’t do particularly well, they spend a lot of money and get you into a half-decent college. They then make a large donation, like build a library, and get you into your dream grad school. Once you’re done, if they assume you’re struggling to find your first job, they call a friend who knows a friend who knows a guy who gives you a job.

See where I am going with this?

Now, after all this and so much more, if they’re going to find you a woman and get her to agree to marry you as well, just what is it you’ve achieved for yourself?

Absolutely nothing.

And it is for this reason that people I know have an unspecified resentment toward arranged marriages, even if they can’t articulate their problem just yet. It has little to do with their parent’s actual selection. And this is not something I can explain to people here, nor do I try to anymore.

Aural logs.

Yes, I’m finally part of another mindless trend. Click the link you fancy below to listen to my opinions on different things.

[MP3 ~6.68 MB]
[OGG ~4.61 MB]

Enjoy,
or not.

You now why? Because they’ve got breasts, that’s why.

No, it’s not what you’re thinking—the goal here is not to make some sort of blanket sexist-pig statement—just wait for me to explain, before unduly getting your knickers in a bunch.

Having breasts and a uterus relate to one of women’s primary functions (in the whole survival-of-the-species scheme of things), child bearing. Now, babies are basically defenseless little things and their survival during a bulk of their formative years requires—amongst other things—close proximity to lactating teats.

(It’s clear I’ve been reading way too much of and into evolutionary psychology of late, but bear with me as I hand-wave through the following argument.)

In terms of early woman, this general scheme almost implicitly implies that she (or another caregiver with functioning nipples) is going to be home with this baby; feeding, taking care of it, and making sure the kid doesn’t do something stupid or get eaten by a predator or something. Now all this basically means, in a primal sense, is that there is a good possibility that groups of women stayed close to home and used to gather up small edible goodies, while the men were out trying to hunt or whatever. This has given women an inordinate amount of time to build up interaction skills—you know, getting other people around to help out and what not, and an uncanny knack of not only easily reading social situations, but also developing the ability to manipulate social situations to ensure their best interests. (The overtly-swaying walk or the seductive hair-toss anyone?)

Before you scream, think about it. For instance, you might have a situation where, or need to:
a. sleep with the alpha male to ensure your kid has the cream of the gene-pool crop (as opposed to that thin bald guy with the inhaler in the corner)
b. said stud is obviously more interested in “spreading his seed” (for the good of the species, mind you), and is probably not the kinds to stick around and take care of her (at least when she needs it, like child birth) or the kid
c. convince an available, gentler, more caring male that the baby is his (you know, so you now have a supportive dad instead of an absconding stud)

See? Perfectly plausible situation in a prehistoric group. And what does all this teach our woman? The art of carefully reading, manipulating social situations and the ability to communicate, well.

The men on the other hand, leave home to find, chase and hunt down food. So, what does this do for them? They probably develop the ability to run faster (as in hips and such more tuned to chasing beasties (or running away from them) than delivering a baby) and throw farther. They’re probably enhanced in terms of spatial dexterity, get stronger perhaps, and probably even gain some problem solving skills.

But the thing is, the world today is ripe for the taking when seen from the point of view of a group capable of sensing social nuances and easily best resolving situations to suit their benefits.

A group with defined biceps?, not so much.

It’s a woman’s world.

If you’re wondering how many frickin’ times I am going to bring up the same topic under different guises, I have to let you know, I have a ton of these up my sleeve. An idea pops up in my head every time I contemplate male redundancy.

Fun “science”: The average pH of a healthy human female vagina is 4. Now that’s rather acidic, like red wine.

Being the manly man that I am, I decided to take a bunch of baking classes, and now I’ve enhanced my culinary repertoire to include shortcakes, cheesecakes and tarts.

That will be all.

Oh, that, and it’s such a pleasant change to have a 1:8 guy to girl ratio in a (kitchen transformed into a) classroom for a change.

I don’t ever remember dreaming as a child. No, I am not referring to the sort of “I wish I am a fireman someday” type “I have a dream” dream, but more the sorts of things you conjure up as you’re asleep and your brain’s sorting out experiences and information it has gained. There have been numerous times when I have had to write an essay or two about “what I dreamt about last night” for school[1], and I’ve had to turn in a blank sheet, or fake it (which is totally fine if done to prevent failing a class).

What can I say? Maybe I was just a very sound sleeper.

Over the past few years however, things have changed dramatically, and I’ve been dreaming very regularly. Nothing spectacular, as in I barely remember them on awakening, but I know my brain has been (hyper)active. What I do remember about them is how formulaic they usually are, even though, superficially, they’re very diverse in setting or in terms of my role in them. For instance, I always start off extremely immersed in them, as in I can’t distinguish them from reality, however implausible the situation might be. However, quite a while into them, I begin to notice things, like “Hey, that lion I’m battling[2] has a face eerily reminiscent of a character in that children’s story I was reading to that kid yesterday!”. At which point I’m still asleep, but battling to stay that way and continue the experience being cognizant of the fact that it’s just my imagination running amok; Not because I need the sleep, but because it’s sometimes an interesting experience (however crappy the actual situation might sound).

Just last night, of course I remember no details, but I think at some point I was doing something mundane—like playing a real estate broker—trying to sell a lot of “prime land” (damn you, realtor TV ads), and during my careful delivery of the spiel of all-that-is-good about living there, I realized I was describing my own neighbourhood. But stripped to its essence and scaled up distortedly, of course. So the situation is almost always an over-the-top warped version of something I saw, some incident, or an experience I had in the recent past. Sometimes the situations are happy, sometimes they’re sad (I remember the feeling, though I seldom can put my finger on anything more specific), though often, they’re just… there. They don’t evoke any emotion, and it’s like they’re running just parallel to my existence, like I’m a passive casual observer all over again.

You know, like those bleh movies on the 12 hour flights that quickly fade into the background?

[1] Come to think of it, what better way for a teacher to play junior-psychologist and figure out if any of her students have deep-seated emotional issues?
[2] Yeah, to the death.

The following is the large block of boring text the previous post was seeded off of.

I am obviously not an economist or a politician, but ignorance or lack of experience has never prevented me from opining before. Kids, the issue we will be delving into today is: Unlike this country[1], I do understand the difference between a form of economy and a form of governance.

Just as people here often confuse freedom of speech with the ability to say whatever they want at whosever’s expense (which is quite evil even if they’re paedophilic-thought-inducing cute), they often tend to equate communism with evil dictatorship. Get your facts straight people, one is a form of economy and the other is a form of governance. They needn’t be related, and you (as in your President going[2]) “But Saddam abused his people… like communists abused their people” is so far wrong, I wont get into the details.

Before I go on, a disclosure: I am a socialist. Yes, I’m an evil bastard who’s not fully pro your capitalist economy (note, not regime).

They’re so ignorant, they’ve proceeded to equate communism with bad, and capitalism with good. They’re neither, they’re just forms of (say it with me) economy. All the major news programmes right now are focusing on the high prices of fuel—and keep getting annoyed that the oil companies are raking in hundreds of billions of dollars in revenue over a few months. They’re clearly angry, and are constantly wondering why their government isn’t stepping in and regulating any of this, especially in their “time of need”.

You know why?, because you’re capitalist you morons. This is the price you pay for “fully free” markets governed by supply, demand and human greed. You finding the price of oil too high, or being unable to afford it are not a valid problems. The oil companies get do what they want.

Don’t crib. Understand.

On a related note, I happened to notice during a news broadcast (over a month ago) that parts of Hawaii were going to limit their gas prices at three dollars a gallon. There was not more than the tiniest peep about this from the media, but I jumped in my seat. This is a HUGE DEAL. This is tantamount to this country testing the waters of socialism by dipping their toes.

Yes, that’s right, socialism. Mostly free and fair markets, but items and services of necessity have regulated prices and distribution schemes—so that everybody can get to them.

Oh, and by the way, while I’m at it, I am not against totalitarian governments (if done right) either. I believe individuals are intelligent, but masses are not. Having everybody have their say and appeasing everybody—pulling in different directions—impedes progress. You need one kind, intelligent, moral, knowledgeable, benevolent person with extreme foresight that steps in, grabs complete control, and drags everyone (kicking and screaming if need be) to a better future. Even having been born in, a citizen of, and living in a democratic country, I can see the benefits of something like a very good totalitarian regime.

And this is totally independent of whether such a society is capitalist or communist.

So basically, my views are along the lines of: not everybody is equal, and some do have to get a bigger say and more power. Scarily, this sort of thing can be assumed to be along the lines of those chicks (they were so sweet looking, it took me a while to get to their gasp-worthy lyrics). But it’s not. I’m talking about an all kind and gentle dictator, think, the pope? Or Gandhi?

[1] Yes, I said “this country”. I didn’t say “most people in this country”, or even “some people in this country”. The reason I tend to generalise things this way—before you jump-in with the “but over half of us know better and feel differently” defence—is because that explanation doesn’t matter. The rest of the world doesn’t care about your internal politics or intellectual differences; all they get to see and care about is what finally goes on.

For instance, over half the people probably don’t want the war. But are you at war? Yes. Apparently, over eighty percent of people don’t think free access to firearms is a good thing. But is that how it is? Yes. I could go on, but you get the idea, and I’m going to get on with my beef for the day.

[2] He probably didn’t say it, as in I just made that up, or he did say something I’m taking it out of context, but that’s how entries in this journal are set up, don’t get your panties in a bunch.

Disclaimer: This post is potentially disturbing. If in doubt, don’t read it. In my pre-defence, I don’t mean any harm.

I’d written up this huge (and yet somewhat unfinished) piece which eventually ended up in everyone’s favourite no-no, racism[1]. In particular, I’d seen a news article on TV about two paedophilic-thought-inducing darling-looking twin teens who “sing” extremely racially charged songs. I’ve quotesified “sing” because they’re so not talented.

I was intrigued by something, and being the good researcher type that I am, I began looking into this in greater detail. My primary beef being, apart from all the White-Supremacist and Neo-Nazi brouhaha that was tacked along with their seemingly angelic faces, there was also constant reference to negative connotations of the word “Aryan”.

Now this bothered me, because I have relatives a few generations up the ladder that have mentioned on occasion that they’re Aryan. Now they’re the very-sweet very-old lady types, so I was struggling to see what the media’s problem was. I mean, they don’t fit the profile of someone who’ll run out and get all violent.

After much reading, I realized what might be going on. Bookmark this representative article and read it at your leisure, and it will all make sense. According to numerous sub-classifications under Hinduism, I am apparently what’s called a Brahmin. Now this happens to be the priestly, scholarly class who’re[2] supposedly knowledgeable in the vedas and such. None of this is true or even valid anymore (or probably really even wasn’t eons ago), but the point is, the word “Aryan” stems from Sanskrit roots that sort of imply—spiritual, respect-worthy and stuff of that nature; which is the context in which Hindus, Jains and Buddhists used the word historically. Now, some might see it appropriate to use the word when referring to a scholar educated in religious texts. (You are supposed to respect your teachers you know.) And this is the context in which I’ve come across the word, in a totally innocuous sense.

Now what has happened is, some violent folk in Germany have:
a. Conveniently forgotten that this word has Indo-Iranian roots
b. Conveniently taken just the fun bits (the indication of nobility) and exponentially warped it—now feeling the need to “cleanse their world of the inferiors”
c. Used this as a rationale to do their dastardly deeds

It is this that the media takes offence to. They weren’t picking on my frail old great-grandma on her wheelchair.

There, I feel all better now.

[1] So I decided to sever that section and make it its own piece. You will get to read the longer (and somewhat more boring piece) soon enough.
[2] “Whore”, teehee. Juvenile humour never goes stale.

Before you wear your seriously low-riding butt-hugging pair of jeans that don’t leave much of your lower back or the top of your crack or thong to my imagination, take a gander at your own behind and ask yourself, “Am I fit and attractive[1]? Is this something I’d like to see?”

Because, if it’s a yes, by all means, go ahead (you ought to be chided if you don’t).

If not, just don’t. Wear your loose fitting large sweatshirt and baggy pants, saving the rest of us from some pukeworthy scenery[2].

This has been a friendly public service announcement from your neighbourhood community watch.

[1] In quantitative terms, like, “Is my hip to waist ratio smaller than the tiny requisite?”.
[2] Think overhanging flab to the sides of excruciatingly tight fitting pants.

People have referred to me in various ways—non-conformist, bohemian, mildly-eccentric, socially aloof, original—when they’re trying to describe my lifestyle in relation to society. What is clear, however, is that I am definitely not a follower, and often tend to buck “fashionable trends”. I rarely do this on purpose, though I have been known to make it a point to look the part on occasion.

I have always wondered why this was, and at some point chalked it all this down to my (yes, you guessed it,) social stuntedness. As in, if you don’t notice things like how people behave or appear in public, or what the “cool people” are wearing or doing, then there isn’t much scope for mimicking what goes on.

When people bring it up, I oft tell them something along the lines of how strong and independent I am, or something similar, subtly implying I genuinely don’t care about what society thinks. I am smart and tough enough to form my own opinions as well as rules, and stick firmly to whatever it is I’ve figured out for myself.

Basically, I don’t need your approval, nor do I crave validation.

The reason I bring any of this up is that I was up to some light reading the other day, and chanced upon this most apropos quote by Sartre (Jean-Paul Sartre).

“People who live in society have learned how to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. I have no friends. Is that why my flesh is so naked?”

I was blown away, and found it a most succinct and poignant way of putting the crux of the matter across.

Make of it what you will.