My New Year's resolutions are as follows
(Before you ask the question anonymous, this is my blog and i kinda like it and it will have 'my' new year's resolutions no matter how hackneyed they are, you dont like it, go get your own blog!!!!)
1. Lose weight. (Something i have always resolved to do as long as i have known what is it like to be able to resolve something, so in this case we are not taking this resolution very seriously.)
2. Make one pack of (10) cigarettes last fro two days.
3. To not spend more than 500/- a week.
4. To study for two hours everyday. (Well, its a beginning)
5. To crack the NET in 2006.
6. Make concrete plans for Ph. D.
6A. Therefore write the GRE.
7. Stop taking money from home or H. i.e. earn money
And Happy New Year's resolutions to you too.
Medusa howvever is ecstatic to announce that she doesn't look like medusa anymore, coz her hair has been shorn off. We are proud of our new look.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Thursday, December 29, 2005
If you feel attacked by feminism, it is probably a counter attack.
Take a look at what we found at www.goodquotes.com today.
Here's a look at what caught our fancy (the caption is also a part of the booty)
My mind works like lightening. One brilliant flash and its gone.
Before giving someone a piece of your mind, be sure you have enough to spare.
All generalizations are false.
Age is a high price to pay for maturity.
All I want is less to do, more time to do it and higher pay for not getting it done.
Eat right, exercise, die anyway.
Man made beer. God made pot. You make the choice.
Plagiarism is copying from one source, research is copying from two or more.
With such words of consolation, medusa signs off. There goes another brilliant mind ruined by higher education.
Here's a look at what caught our fancy (the caption is also a part of the booty)
My mind works like lightening. One brilliant flash and its gone.
Before giving someone a piece of your mind, be sure you have enough to spare.
All generalizations are false.
Age is a high price to pay for maturity.
All I want is less to do, more time to do it and higher pay for not getting it done.
Eat right, exercise, die anyway.
Man made beer. God made pot. You make the choice.
Plagiarism is copying from one source, research is copying from two or more.
With such words of consolation, medusa signs off. There goes another brilliant mind ruined by higher education.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
kumbh ke mele mein
okay, here it goes.
kumbh Kay mela is this 12 yearly gathering of people that happens at Allahabad and therefore mucho chaos (as is natural with everything religious) ensues. So often in Hindi films, twins and brothers and sisters and families get separated and go on to live their individual lives, that often turn out to be in opposition with one another.
at the end of the film they reunite and live happily ever after.
among other things:
I ALWAYS FALL ILL WHEN I HAVE TO START WORKING.
after procastinating for 28 days, the moment medusa made up her mind to sit down and study, her wheezings and asthma came back, with severe sleepfulness, which has reduced (or elevated ) medusa to the state of a vegetable which occasionally spreads its roots in search of nutrition, that being done goes back to its vegetable life .
the internet has not done anything to help her recovery.
jgbvurafjdsvuwrtopw eiruiefhknc;lgveugh746574ydjfvbjsavuty786 jfeihgurwdjvjsakllk
kumbh Kay mela is this 12 yearly gathering of people that happens at Allahabad and therefore mucho chaos (as is natural with everything religious) ensues. So often in Hindi films, twins and brothers and sisters and families get separated and go on to live their individual lives, that often turn out to be in opposition with one another.
at the end of the film they reunite and live happily ever after.
among other things:
I ALWAYS FALL ILL WHEN I HAVE TO START WORKING.
after procastinating for 28 days, the moment medusa made up her mind to sit down and study, her wheezings and asthma came back, with severe sleepfulness, which has reduced (or elevated ) medusa to the state of a vegetable which occasionally spreads its roots in search of nutrition, that being done goes back to its vegetable life .
the internet has not done anything to help her recovery.
jgbvurafjdsvuwrtopw eiruiefhknc;lgveugh746574ydjfvbjsavuty786 jfeihgurwdjvjsakllk
Monday, December 26, 2005
MERRY CHRISTMAS
had the funnest christmas ever. the gals in the hostel decided to have a christmas party and invited the boys over. as the designated santa i had to make the surprise gifts*, and all of us ransacked the campus for something that resembled a christmas tree, put one girl on the terrace to cut the branches, planted it, decorated it, brought cake and wine and chips and lit a bonfire and raised toasts and generally freaked out.
but the freakier part came later, at around 1 in the morning when my army- friends M** and G came in the campus at 80kmph, picked up me n tootsie and dashed off into the night.
i was wearing a cut t shirt n jeans, tootsie had slippers on, and apparently we were going to this place called Runwy 9(passes to which gala christmas ball had been given to us on tds on wednesday) which is at the back of beyond, somewhere beyond jungles and fields in a far far away place which was also extremely cold. obviously neither me nor tootsie knew where were we going, or what was this place (i still dont know) and were shivering in the cold. obviously by the time we reached there (2 a.m.) the party was long over, only underdressed women and bulky men could be seen walking towards their cars.
so our two defencemen had another brainwave, and we went to another god forsaken place (trust me i am not taking god's name in vain, this place was definitely in the middle of nowhere) and we could not even turn the lights of the car on, for fear of regimental patrol who might not be pleased to see two jawans*** with two women .....they however took it upon themselves to scare the shit out of me by telling me stories of a woman who had been raped in this same place and killed, and how she still runs screaming for help and etc...
that dark night, that crescent moon, that deserted place and those creepy trees, did nothing to reduce my scaredness. sigh!!!!
thankfully the men were hungry and we left for pickles (fave expensive restaurant where i have never eateb with my own money, with an excellent midnight buffet) after freezing our butts off. it was 3:30 in the morning and every shapes and sizes of the male of the species inhabiting the city of hyderabad were there, and they were basically greeting each other like kumbh ke mele mein bichhren bhai ****
came back at four thirty, (the less said about M's drunk driving the better), after having spent by far the best christmas of my life.
*bookmarks with ribbons attached to them, which people like and disliked on equal measures....but hey, if it weren't for me, u wdnt even have a gift huh?
**M happens to be the sweetheart whose car i filled with puke coupla weeks ago....
***Hindi word for young man or youth, but in this case an officer serving in the Indian Army, or so i think
****serious aplogies to my non indian readers, but this term requires an entire blog posting of its own....and will be taken care of in some time
but the freakier part came later, at around 1 in the morning when my army- friends M** and G came in the campus at 80kmph, picked up me n tootsie and dashed off into the night.
i was wearing a cut t shirt n jeans, tootsie had slippers on, and apparently we were going to this place called Runwy 9(passes to which gala christmas ball had been given to us on tds on wednesday) which is at the back of beyond, somewhere beyond jungles and fields in a far far away place which was also extremely cold. obviously neither me nor tootsie knew where were we going, or what was this place (i still dont know) and were shivering in the cold. obviously by the time we reached there (2 a.m.) the party was long over, only underdressed women and bulky men could be seen walking towards their cars.
so our two defencemen had another brainwave, and we went to another god forsaken place (trust me i am not taking god's name in vain, this place was definitely in the middle of nowhere) and we could not even turn the lights of the car on, for fear of regimental patrol who might not be pleased to see two jawans*** with two women .....they however took it upon themselves to scare the shit out of me by telling me stories of a woman who had been raped in this same place and killed, and how she still runs screaming for help and etc...
that dark night, that crescent moon, that deserted place and those creepy trees, did nothing to reduce my scaredness. sigh!!!!
thankfully the men were hungry and we left for pickles (fave expensive restaurant where i have never eateb with my own money, with an excellent midnight buffet) after freezing our butts off. it was 3:30 in the morning and every shapes and sizes of the male of the species inhabiting the city of hyderabad were there, and they were basically greeting each other like kumbh ke mele mein bichhren bhai ****
came back at four thirty, (the less said about M's drunk driving the better), after having spent by far the best christmas of my life.
*bookmarks with ribbons attached to them, which people like and disliked on equal measures....but hey, if it weren't for me, u wdnt even have a gift huh?
**M happens to be the sweetheart whose car i filled with puke coupla weeks ago....
***Hindi word for young man or youth, but in this case an officer serving in the Indian Army, or so i think
****serious aplogies to my non indian readers, but this term requires an entire blog posting of its own....and will be taken care of in some time
Thursday, December 22, 2005
pubbin' days
wednesday was meant to be great. what with the chance encounter with the perfect vcd/dvd parlour that has all the films that i need to write my paper, and the cool* film viewing with a grumbling boomshak, the stage was all set for a great ladies' night at our favourite joint.
and what a night did it turn out to be?
four of us, and no men and all four of us determined to enjoy at whatever cost.
so we drank (i drank only a beer and a blue lagoon and a gin n lime n four screw drivers) and then we played truth n dare n then we went n started talking to random cute guys**, something that we had never done ever before in our lives.
to top it all, we were the first ones at the dance floor, which resulted in free passes to some random fuckin expensive place, some place that we will never be able to afford.
but what the hell.
and then there was the all time favourite midnight train ride to sec bad, the grumbling autowalahs and a snack at the hostel steps.
long live hyderabad and its ladies' nights.
* the film was "bluffmaster" with hot hot hot hot hot......Abhishek Bacchan, and even though not great by itself, was completely paisa vasool thanks to the impeccable charm and virility of Junior B. and to top it all, he could act!!!!!!
**cute guy vinay, this one is for you, what with giving us the mail id and ph no. that we shall never use, and the cutest smile in a long long time.
p.s. only bad thing about the evening: the cool guy that hot neighbour has been trying to hit on for the past two months, finally hit the dance floor, with a girl friend in tow. bummer.....
and what a night did it turn out to be?
four of us, and no men and all four of us determined to enjoy at whatever cost.
so we drank (i drank only a beer and a blue lagoon and a gin n lime n four screw drivers) and then we played truth n dare n then we went n started talking to random cute guys**, something that we had never done ever before in our lives.
to top it all, we were the first ones at the dance floor, which resulted in free passes to some random fuckin expensive place, some place that we will never be able to afford.
but what the hell.
and then there was the all time favourite midnight train ride to sec bad, the grumbling autowalahs and a snack at the hostel steps.
long live hyderabad and its ladies' nights.
* the film was "bluffmaster" with hot hot hot hot hot......Abhishek Bacchan, and even though not great by itself, was completely paisa vasool thanks to the impeccable charm and virility of Junior B. and to top it all, he could act!!!!!!
**cute guy vinay, this one is for you, what with giving us the mail id and ph no. that we shall never use, and the cutest smile in a long long time.
p.s. only bad thing about the evening: the cool guy that hot neighbour has been trying to hit on for the past two months, finally hit the dance floor, with a girl friend in tow. bummer.....
Saturday, December 17, 2005
muh life
tootsie and fly on the wall (random close frends whose random adventures are a huge part of muh life) are sleeping happily on my bed, while i tiptoe around the room wondering how can two grown human beings fit into such a tiny bed. but then again, they are not as fussy as sleepers as i am i suppose, but on second thought, i am not fussy at all. i can sleep with the light on, with people holding regular conversations all around me, with blaring music and/or loud tv, basically everything. but i can't sleep with someone right next to me, touching skin to skin. don't get me wrong, i can stay awake in such situations, and be fairly active etc, but sleep always eludes me.
among other things, phdcomics (as the accompanying comic will testify) has hit the nal on the head again. i dont want to work, i think there is something like two weeks left before any of the term papers are due, anyway the place is too quiet and too chilly to get any work done. (no one else shares my sentiments though, least of all hot neighbour who is on the verge of finishing her work). but i do have really important work to do, i make lemon tea thrice a day and worry about money. actually that is the only luxury that i can still afford, i dont even have money to buy food, and am obsessing about it so much that all kinds of people are willing to lend me some. but i will not take money from em coz i know i can never pay em back, the speed with which all my moeny gets spent whenever i have any.
so basically am learning how to save (slightly late in the day though coz i dont have any to save).
what else, had great pubbing wedensday. left a trail of puke from the pub to the campus and such similar marks on other people's cars and clothes (dint spend moeny though, it was a free ladies' night), and my frends are ecstatic. they gahtered around me and cheered, saying finally u r drunk.....yipee do.
seriously, from now on my guzzler reputation is going to be a diff one to live up to.
Monday, December 12, 2005
After watching Sin City!
This is about my relationships with scary movies.I might be culturally deprived, but I really can not see the point in making or watching a scary film. As far as I am concerned, I can not, have never, and never intend to watch a scary film ever in my entire life. Okay, the statement seems slightly hyperbolic, and it is. The question one might as well as ask me, is, if you have never watched a scary film, then how you know that you do not want to watch one.
That is because, my dear readers, I have tried to sit through films that have scary sequences, I have sat in the next room while my sister was on an endless horror serial watching trip, and I have felt myself shut my eyes tight and stuff my ears with cotton just to ward off the sound that comes from the next room.
So, I actually am not half as inexperienced as I would like people to believe, but that does not take away from the fact that I am really scared. It is not because I think that the stuff on tv will happen to me one day, or because I empathize with the grief and horror stricken characters on the screen, but because, I think, it is in me that the scary film gets its ideal viewer, the spectator who is absent.
I mean, what exactly is it that you are trying to achieve by making or in this case screening a scary film? To scare people right? So when a person is scared it can safely be assumed that the purpose has been served. And therefore, since I get scared in a movie hall with the first hint of anything remotely scary, or violent, or bloody, or gory, or reptile-y, then am I not the implied consumer? And if I am, and if horror films are too scary for me to ever go and try and watch another one of them, then why produce more horror films?
(And yes Mr. Tarantino, this applies to you too.)
That is because, my dear readers, I have tried to sit through films that have scary sequences, I have sat in the next room while my sister was on an endless horror serial watching trip, and I have felt myself shut my eyes tight and stuff my ears with cotton just to ward off the sound that comes from the next room.
So, I actually am not half as inexperienced as I would like people to believe, but that does not take away from the fact that I am really scared. It is not because I think that the stuff on tv will happen to me one day, or because I empathize with the grief and horror stricken characters on the screen, but because, I think, it is in me that the scary film gets its ideal viewer, the spectator who is absent.
I mean, what exactly is it that you are trying to achieve by making or in this case screening a scary film? To scare people right? So when a person is scared it can safely be assumed that the purpose has been served. And therefore, since I get scared in a movie hall with the first hint of anything remotely scary, or violent, or bloody, or gory, or reptile-y, then am I not the implied consumer? And if I am, and if horror films are too scary for me to ever go and try and watch another one of them, then why produce more horror films?
(And yes Mr. Tarantino, this applies to you too.)
Thursday, December 08, 2005
about my work now....
Thought would write something about my project, and expect the small yet regular readers' to comment on it. so don't disappoint me you guys.
My research aims to look at women's work. But this is where it also hits a block. Almost all the feminist analysis of women's work and working women has concentrated on the working class women, their participation in economic production and the possiblities of more equal rights for women and consequently the possiblity of emancipation.
But i do not want to look at the working class women. for entirely selfish reasons (being brought up by a working mother and working father who took their work very seriously, mother being part of a worker's union and always knowing that when i grow up, i can not think about getting married and letting the man take care of my needs, not because that is impossible, but because that is simply not done.) When i looked to feminism for some engagement with the work done by women like my mother and the kind of woman i grew up to be, i had to face a void.
Middle class women, those who do not have to be a part of the workforce by economic necessity, especially in India, have not found any analysis of their situation in mainstream feminist discourse.
Even abroad, the discussions have mostly been restricted to the analysis of housework and etc.
that is where women's fiction, especially romantic fiction comes in. it is my proposal that unlike feminist theory, popular romantic fiction read and written by women, exhibit a different level of engagement with the middle class woman's work. they concentrate on exploring the meaning of work for women who do not have to earn their livings but choose to do so, women who derive pleasure from the work that they do, and women for whom work is a question of choice.
The formation of subjectivity in a patriarchy like India, for middle class women, i believe is determined greatly by their ability to go and work outside of the home, in the public domain.
Examples? MIlls and Boon would be nice. these straight forward romantice stories have seen a lot of change in their shape and conetent of the last 60 years or so. the chaste kiss has been replaced by some heavy duty sexual acitivity, but the women heroines are also no longer subordinate nurses or receptionists. they have carved out a niche for themselves in the public sphere, and by their own right. what are the implications of such an important move? how does the narrative reconcile with the two distinct traces of movement in the fiction, one in which the hero is the be-all-and-end-all of the heroine's life, and the other in which she refuses to compromise about the importance of her work in her life?
Also, what is the necessity of asking questions about middle class wokring women?
and so on and so forth.....
My research aims to look at women's work. But this is where it also hits a block. Almost all the feminist analysis of women's work and working women has concentrated on the working class women, their participation in economic production and the possiblities of more equal rights for women and consequently the possiblity of emancipation.
But i do not want to look at the working class women. for entirely selfish reasons (being brought up by a working mother and working father who took their work very seriously, mother being part of a worker's union and always knowing that when i grow up, i can not think about getting married and letting the man take care of my needs, not because that is impossible, but because that is simply not done.) When i looked to feminism for some engagement with the work done by women like my mother and the kind of woman i grew up to be, i had to face a void.
Middle class women, those who do not have to be a part of the workforce by economic necessity, especially in India, have not found any analysis of their situation in mainstream feminist discourse.
Even abroad, the discussions have mostly been restricted to the analysis of housework and etc.
that is where women's fiction, especially romantic fiction comes in. it is my proposal that unlike feminist theory, popular romantic fiction read and written by women, exhibit a different level of engagement with the middle class woman's work. they concentrate on exploring the meaning of work for women who do not have to earn their livings but choose to do so, women who derive pleasure from the work that they do, and women for whom work is a question of choice.
The formation of subjectivity in a patriarchy like India, for middle class women, i believe is determined greatly by their ability to go and work outside of the home, in the public domain.
Examples? MIlls and Boon would be nice. these straight forward romantice stories have seen a lot of change in their shape and conetent of the last 60 years or so. the chaste kiss has been replaced by some heavy duty sexual acitivity, but the women heroines are also no longer subordinate nurses or receptionists. they have carved out a niche for themselves in the public sphere, and by their own right. what are the implications of such an important move? how does the narrative reconcile with the two distinct traces of movement in the fiction, one in which the hero is the be-all-and-end-all of the heroine's life, and the other in which she refuses to compromise about the importance of her work in her life?
Also, what is the necessity of asking questions about middle class wokring women?
and so on and so forth.....
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
chatting blues.....
This is what happened to my friend tootsie when she tried to chat with someone.
gauraveee: pic/cam?
tootsie: nope
gauravee: bye
tootsie: bye
gauravee: just a sec, asl?
tootsie: i just wanted to talk. i am not interested in stupid conversations.
gauravee: r u sita or what?
tootsie: no i am just an average girl.
gauraveee: so what's your surname?
tootsie: trust me i am not Sita RAmchandra Raghuvanshi
gauravee: date of birth place and time?
tootsie: what the hell!!!
gauravee: I am an engineer in Nigeria and i think you are perfetc fo rme to marry.
tootsie: are you nuts?
guravee: why do you talk like that? average girls don't say hell and nuts.
tootse: What the hell!!!!!!!!
gauraveee: again you are saying hell. Chat with me with a cam tomorrow.
tootsie: no, sorry am busy.
gauravee: you are missing the chance to marry me. i wont marry you now.
gauraveee: pic/cam?
tootsie: nope
gauravee: bye
tootsie: bye
gauravee: just a sec, asl?
tootsie: i just wanted to talk. i am not interested in stupid conversations.
gauravee: r u sita or what?
tootsie: no i am just an average girl.
gauraveee: so what's your surname?
tootsie: trust me i am not Sita RAmchandra Raghuvanshi
gauravee: date of birth place and time?
tootsie: what the hell!!!
gauravee: I am an engineer in Nigeria and i think you are perfetc fo rme to marry.
tootsie: are you nuts?
guravee: why do you talk like that? average girls don't say hell and nuts.
tootse: What the hell!!!!!!!!
gauraveee: again you are saying hell. Chat with me with a cam tomorrow.
tootsie: no, sorry am busy.
gauravee: you are missing the chance to marry me. i wont marry you now.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
my student
This is what my student at the English Proficiency course wrote when he was given a homework of describing the physical appearance of his favourite person
Physical Appearance about my fiance
She is 19 year old. She is pretty good looking. She's weight 50kg and height 5.4 feet.
1) She has wavy burgundy coloured hair with step cut.
2)She has oval face, fair colour with pinkish complexion.
3) Her eyes are round in shape with long eye lashes and shaped eye brows.
4) A bit sharp nose.
5) She has slim personality with sexy attraction.
IS there a law anywhere preventing incompetent teachers from hitting on their students' fiances?
Physical Appearance about my fiance
She is 19 year old. She is pretty good looking. She's weight 50kg and height 5.4 feet.
1) She has wavy burgundy coloured hair with step cut.
2)She has oval face, fair colour with pinkish complexion.
3) Her eyes are round in shape with long eye lashes and shaped eye brows.
4) A bit sharp nose.
5) She has slim personality with sexy attraction.
IS there a law anywhere preventing incompetent teachers from hitting on their students' fiances?
Friday, December 02, 2005
where are you going?
medusa: Auto!!!!
auto driver: where to?
medusa: vidyanagar.
auto driver (from now on ad): come.
medusa: (feeling really surprised, why is this guy speaking to me in English? for the uninitiated, all auto conversations are held in Hindi, because most drivers are not literate and definitely not conversant in English)
ad: (still in English) so what you study?
medusa: er....English....
ad: why? coz it international language?
medusa: (not knowing the answer to the question) er....yes....
ad: what foreign languages you know?
medusa: (now terribly embarrassed) none....
ad: no foreign language? how many langugage you know?
medusa: (more embarrassed) three...hindi, bengali, english.....
ad: bas? very bad
medusa: (desperately fidgeting with the cell phone, not looking at him in order to divert attention from herself)
ad: ok, it is 20/-
medusa: (smiling sheepishly, knowing fully well that she is being fooled) thank you
ad: why not go abroad?
medusa: (to herself.....abroad? abroad? he said the word abroad?)....er.... i dont know...maybe later
ad: go to Us or Switzerland
medusa: ok.......(please dont do this to me, i keep on asking myself this question everyday)
ad: I did German and French from your institute
medusa: (dumbfounded....then why are you driving an auto.....how very mean of me to be thinking that....aaaaaaaaa, this is what will happen to me also...help help help!)
ad: (starts speaking french, or so medusa thinks coz she doesnt know anything anyway)
medusa runs for her life........
lesson learnt.....never learn a foreign language coz u might just be in a position to bully poor research students.
lesson 2: learn a foreign language otherwise everyone will bully you.
lesson 3: where is your academics headed to?
auto driver: where to?
medusa: vidyanagar.
auto driver (from now on ad): come.
medusa: (feeling really surprised, why is this guy speaking to me in English? for the uninitiated, all auto conversations are held in Hindi, because most drivers are not literate and definitely not conversant in English)
ad: (still in English) so what you study?
medusa: er....English....
ad: why? coz it international language?
medusa: (not knowing the answer to the question) er....yes....
ad: what foreign languages you know?
medusa: (now terribly embarrassed) none....
ad: no foreign language? how many langugage you know?
medusa: (more embarrassed) three...hindi, bengali, english.....
ad: bas? very bad
medusa: (desperately fidgeting with the cell phone, not looking at him in order to divert attention from herself)
ad: ok, it is 20/-
medusa: (smiling sheepishly, knowing fully well that she is being fooled) thank you
ad: why not go abroad?
medusa: (to herself.....abroad? abroad? he said the word abroad?)....er.... i dont know...maybe later
ad: go to Us or Switzerland
medusa: ok.......(please dont do this to me, i keep on asking myself this question everyday)
ad: I did German and French from your institute
medusa: (dumbfounded....then why are you driving an auto.....how very mean of me to be thinking that....aaaaaaaaa, this is what will happen to me also...help help help!)
ad: (starts speaking french, or so medusa thinks coz she doesnt know anything anyway)
medusa runs for her life........
lesson learnt.....never learn a foreign language coz u might just be in a position to bully poor research students.
lesson 2: learn a foreign language otherwise everyone will bully you.
lesson 3: where is your academics headed to?
Thursday, December 01, 2005
coz it has been to long without them
i dont care what wanabe thinks, it has been so long without her in this blog that it almost hurts....
for ghb
Grasshopperboy can not always save the day...after all he is a grasshopper, and even if sidekick girl kicks him by mistake, he wouldn't be around to save us....
so that is when you feel the need of medusastoned (drumrolls ladies and gentlemen and my friends...).
medusastoned fights super villains by turning them into stones (ya sure as if you did not guess). bt what is interesting is that in her undying quest for justice she uses illegal substances like pot. she comes in the dark of the night under the disguise of a pedlar (your very own tambourine man, if you want that) supplying pot to her arch enemies....and the stuff is so good and so strong...the enemies smoke up and get stoned.
Thus in one gesture she subverts the law that bans marijuana by using it to punish those who are the enemies of superheros like her. she and her trusted sidekick potbelly (one who carries pot in her stomach...duh) roam the streets in search of grasshopperboy, poor insect that got lost in this wide wide world......
so that is when you feel the need of medusastoned (drumrolls ladies and gentlemen and my friends...).
medusastoned fights super villains by turning them into stones (ya sure as if you did not guess). bt what is interesting is that in her undying quest for justice she uses illegal substances like pot. she comes in the dark of the night under the disguise of a pedlar (your very own tambourine man, if you want that) supplying pot to her arch enemies....and the stuff is so good and so strong...the enemies smoke up and get stoned.
Thus in one gesture she subverts the law that bans marijuana by using it to punish those who are the enemies of superheros like her. she and her trusted sidekick potbelly (one who carries pot in her stomach...duh) roam the streets in search of grasshopperboy, poor insect that got lost in this wide wide world......
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
this is a new column type thing
This is kind of a regular column type of a thing that i have been thinking about, one that keeps track of the films i watch and the books i read (apart from fulfilling the most imporatant task of showing off), but since i do not know how to achieve a column kinda thing inside this blog, i suppose i just will put them in regular posts.
horse whisperer is very slow, but has picked up pace now that the whisperer has been introduced to the reader, i wish he could have cut down a bit on the description of the landscape though.
Daswani on the other hand, is promising to be a perfect subsitute for the mindless Mbs that i have been craving for a long while now. (Shame on me, i call my subject of research "mindless", especially since it is one of my aims to show, after many others, that they are not so after all)
Antarmahal
Abhishek looked gorgeous, and so did Rupa. Jackie was also nice, but Soha killed the film. One knows that she is being fornicated without any pleasure being derived by her every night, but one almost doesn't feel sad for her. one knows that Abhishek is fetishisd, and one participates in that process mostly because of the way in which Rupa leads us into doing as much....One however keeps on thinking how do the Bengalis get away with this...the scenes where Abhishek is making the breasts of the Durga idol and starts fantasising about his wife (Raima who also looked great) and then Soha, are definitely the most sensuous ones, apart from the shots that had Rupa in close focus...Anywhere else in the country, he would have had a hindu fundamentalist fatwa (there i have appropriated a regularly misused term) against his name ...he is Rituporno by the way, and he should start making greater films now...good he is good at.....this is not meant to be a review though, if you want one, then go here.
Monday, November 28, 2005
This is goin' to be one helluva long post....
The internet is back!!!!!!Hallelujah!!!!!!
What happened is as follows: one fine Saturady morning (fater yours truly had sat through "My Fair LAdy" for the nth time in a row at 7 in the morning), the administration decided to chop off two huge branches in front of the LAdies Hostel, coz it was intefering with the electric cables, good decision one must say.
as a result, no electricity from 11 to 5, and then when it came back, all the world ran for the internet, and it wasn't working, coz the smart asses had cut off the internet cables also.
The power cut however, was not entirely unproductive, i got a hair cut (so now i look like a late 19th c Bengali Bhadralok), as did serendipiduous and hot neighbour.
But the usefulness with which i have been occupying my time is as follows: read shitty and not so shitty books, was really really nice films and also watched "Antarmahal", but it is an enitrely fifferent story all together......
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Citation and reiteration
This is a very sad attempt at paraphrasing Judith Butler, but since one is so taken by her, one has to do so....it is an ontological propensity (could one possibly get more UN-Butler like?)...Anyway, what i thought she was trying to say is that, every act, or what you think of as an unique act is a reiteration, a citation, and is consituted of a failure of memory. but it is in those moments of citation that it is possible to cite the past differently (as it anyway always is), to displace the desired effect by something diferent.
I do not quite know whether this made any sesne to anyone but me, (anon will definitely extend his/her helping hand), but reading Butler is so electrifying that i have been raving about it ever since the afternoon, and what else, but have decided to appropriate it to my specific purposes.
Since the possiblity of subversion makes itself present in every conscious reiteration, i can definitely dedicate this blog to such a purpose....:)
So the first repetition is what was heard during the Reading course discussion session....Her Highness the Diva (my supervisor) told course mate....Why do you have to smoke to defy patriarchy? Why can't you do maths better?
What, dear smokers, do you say to that?
I do not quite know whether this made any sesne to anyone but me, (anon will definitely extend his/her helping hand), but reading Butler is so electrifying that i have been raving about it ever since the afternoon, and what else, but have decided to appropriate it to my specific purposes.
Since the possiblity of subversion makes itself present in every conscious reiteration, i can definitely dedicate this blog to such a purpose....:)
So the first repetition is what was heard during the Reading course discussion session....Her Highness the Diva (my supervisor) told course mate....Why do you have to smoke to defy patriarchy? Why can't you do maths better?
What, dear smokers, do you say to that?
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Harry Potter ans the Goblet of Fire
Watched it.
Loved it.
Loved Fred and George the most.
Got scared.
Cdn't watch the entire maze sequence.
Agree with UG on all counts about the omissions though.
But, it will also be interesting to find out how they manage to make the next film.
Loved it.
Loved Fred and George the most.
Got scared.
Cdn't watch the entire maze sequence.
Agree with UG on all counts about the omissions though.
But, it will also be interesting to find out how they manage to make the next film.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
This is meant to be a smiley
The following is what was waiting for me in the message box.....
anonymous said...
anonymous said...
a humble submission: please check the meaning AND usage of the words "disclaimer" and "proliferation"...academics?? doesnt look like it..yeah..but someone wise has already told you that before on your own blog.
couple of well known disclaimers you're perhaps not aware of:
disclaimer 1: people with borrowed intellect are an antithesis to blogging...hence they are not allowed.
disclaimer 2: blogs are not "lets pretend to be different" zones
Thought of the day: holding front seats to a basketball game doesnt make you a player.
get it get it get it?? more later..since you love comments so much...
ps: beatrice once said..truth is nastiness; nastiness, truth!
Monday, November 21, 2005
Disclaimers, Clarifications, and what say you....
Disclaimer one:
The Speed excerpt was not an original, it is taken from this fantastic site at rinkworks/movieaminute.com.
Disclaimer two:
The author is respnsible for all the posts on this blog, but not the comments. As the title clearly states, "If you do not like this blog, go get your own."
Disclaimer three:
I like it when people post comments, no matter how nasty they are. So dear Anon aka wanabe, :) thank you.
Disclaimer four:
This blog will never have pics of hot neighbour.
Disclaimer five:
If you have a problem with the proliferation of Angelina Jolie on this blog, as I mentioned earlier, you can jolly well go and get your own.
And about the image on top, it is part of my favourite, phdcomics, who can be visited at www.phdcomics.com/comics.php
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