You can't touch this!!!!!!!!!

Hallelujah. Hammer's got blog-time!!

I love how everyone's here. Anyone seen Elvis?

Keep it poppin', you're still my man. Wear them funkypants, tho.

CAN'T TOUCH THIS (MC Hammer)

Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com

Definitions at a Conference

Decadence resides in
chandeliers that glitter
with the light of chinese
cunts that taste of tommy girl
and too much $6 red wine.

Awareness is counting the sudoku squares
formed by the ceiling's wood beams,
and sinking your bare foot hurting
into warm red carpet.

Knowledge is Ron the security guard,
who walks in definite majesty
midst high and happy thighs.

wisdom is poetry
written feverish
on the back of bills and
on the arm of a drunk lover--
(the one who's number you pushed into the planter)

Truth is dancing with
joe from california
(who smells of Bud light and a 2 year old girlfriend)
then walking away to
discuss the 1974 invasion with
the delegate from Chile.

Luxury is extra cigs,
and your bare feet up on a coffee table.

Responsibility is the
erring human boyfriend,
charging the ipod
and waking up in time for committee.

Magic is the drunk slovakian playing the
piano in time to Deep Purple on your 'pod.

Courage is reading Kerouac, and still writing,
on the back of a bill--
poetry at 00:56 in the night.

_____________________

First posted here

jugun ianfu

Thats the new phrase I learnt today. It's Japanese for "military comfort women".

This evening at Roger Williams University, Ms. Ok Sun Kim and Ms. Yong Soo Lee came to speak to an audience about the treatment of 200,000 young girls, most of them Korean, at the hands of the Japanese military during WWII. Ms. Kim and Ms. Lee were accompanied by a translator and a documentary which explained what being (Jugun Ianfu) meant to these women.

The two little old women are now in their early 80's. At the time of their enslavement, they were 15 years old.

According to Dr. Chunghee Sarah Soh, Ph.D. of the San Francisco State University, Jugun ianfu were created by the Japanese Army because their goal was to

"... enhance the morale of the military by providing amenities for recreational sex. The authorities believed such amenities would help prevent soldiers from committing random sexual violence toward women of occupied territories, which became a real concern after the infamous Nanjing Massacre in 1937. Besides its reputation, the military authorities were also concerned with the health of the troops, which prompted their close supervision of the hygienic conditions in the comfort stations in order to help keep sexually transmitted diseases under control".

It wasn't just Korean women who were targeted. According to Dr. Soh's research, 80% were Korean, but comfort women were enslaved from villages throught Japanese occupied territory-- They were taken from Taiwan, the Philippines, Indonesia, Burma and the Pacific islands.



From the testimonials as well as research reports, it's evident these women were subject to horrific treatment. The only reparation ever received was in 1948 when a tribunal in Batavia (today's Jakarta) convicted Japanese military officers who had forced 35 Dutch women into becoming comfort women. There was no mention made at that time of comfort women of any other race or nationality.

The victims of this practice have suffered diseases, addictions and/or a ruptured uterus. They have lived in loneliness and poverty. They have received no compensation and no apology from the Japanese government. They have been aging in silence. Until now.

In 1991, Kim Hak Sun (who was featured in the documentary that was shown this evening)gave the first public testimonial. Since then, more has been written and said to make sure the issue goes beyond the confines of regional politics in Japan and North & South Korea.


At present, Japanese Conservatives deny the existence of any evidence that points to the practice of coercing young girls into being the army's comfort women.

This wasn't the first time in history that women received such treatment. I have heard of this practice having occured amongst Nordic tribes, the Romans, Greeks and African tribes. U.N troops have been accused of the same crime in Kossovo. But the faces and words that I saw on that screen today made an impression like no Homeric talk of female slaves could have ever done.

I saw Ms. Ok Sun Kim outside in the hallway, as I was zipping up my jacket. A gentle graceful woman in silk and white slip-on shoes, she returned my bow with one of her own, and with a smile, went back into the hall. I stood there, mouth agape, wishing I spoke enough Korean to say "thankyou" and "sorry", though it would've sounded as stupid then as it does now.

Ms. Yong Soo Lee, the second "grandmother", as they were referred to the whole evening, had an interesting story to tell. She has told it before to a Chinese newspaper, and I quote it here:

"There was a 'comfort station' in Taiwan where I then received pilots who belonged to the kamikaze, a special suicide brigade."

One of Japanese kamikaze pilots, who repeatedly raped her in Taiwan, told Ms. Lee that she was his first love.

"That Japanese soldier gave me a Japanese nick-name, 'Toshiko'. And the kamikaze pilot taught me a song. He made up a song, because he was afraid he would die when he finally had to fly.

"It's in Japanese," Ms. Lee said, and then she softly sang the lilting tune which she never forgot.

"The song goes like this," she added, translating the Japanese into Korean, which was then rendered into English by a translator during the interview:

"The fighting planes are taking off / Taiwan is disappearing far below / Clouds appear / Nobody is saying goodbye to me / One person who can cry for me is Toshiko / We will fight in Okinawa / If I die, I will guide you to your mother / So please don't cry, because you will go back to your mother."

That shred of hope, amid their mutual doom and suffering, at least allowed Ms. Lee to believe she might survive.

"I think he is my savior. I still thank him," she said, clarifying that she felt no romance for him.

"He came to me many times. That soldier told me I was his first love."

Occasionally weeping while telling her tale, Ms. Lee said the kamikaze pilot "gave me all his soap, and other things for taking care of myself, because he said he was leaving tomorrow to die."

Ms. Lee never married.

For the whole story, click here.

Again-- this is not the first time women have been used and abused. This will not be the last time. But this is not about casting stones-- It is about recognizing history. Ms. Kim and Ms. Lee want an official apology. And they want to go back to Korea. May whichever god is listening, grant it to them.

For more on comfort women, visit:

http://www.cmht.com/cases_cwcomfort3.php
http://www.mogef.go.kr/english/dev/victims/index.jsp
http://www.comfort-women.org/v2/

Of Model U.N conferences, bars, smart economic sanctions, Floyd studio clips from 1970 and other sundry matters

I just got back from Harvard's model UN conference.
As the delegate from Cyprus in the UNWC-Applications, I sat with 551 other delegates in the General Assembly simulation and tried to come up with a treaty that regulated unilateral actions.

Thats the resume version. Now for the truth.

Being an ivy league-er apparently doesn't make you good at organizing. Delegates from around the world-- literally-- decried the lack of parliamentary procedure. The fact that they came from different countries and thus could decry in different languages made the entire event perfect.

I wish this happened more often-- college grads and undergrads getting together, discussing politics in the day and alcohol, music & sex at night. Its proof that woodstock will never die.

Disclaimer #1: I deslike the present structure of the UNO. It's post WWII philosophy is not in tune with the world today-- there can be no P5, or veto, in a world where Surinam and Burkina Faso [not to mention Cyprus and Brazil] introduce amendments and motions at model UNs. There is an open market, with non-state actors and people who communicate via the internet. Like Windows, the UNO needs updates too. But thats just my little rant.

Disclaimer #2: I chose to not go to this model UN for the above-stated reasons. I ended up going because my friends asked me to, as there was an opening in the 11th hour. Throwing principles and homework to the wind, I took off with zero preparation to this conference.

ok, it wasn't all alcohol, music & sex. Even from my perch as observer of the world, there were moments of brilliance throughout these past 4 days. In committee for instance, the latin american nations quickly got together, and the arab and african nations had no qualms joining them. Turkey, Greece and Cyprus sent each other notes and smiles, and vowed that if it was upto us, the 1974 dispute would be settled peaceably with a referendum, and Turkey would part of the E.U in 2007.

Chile, Zimbabwe, Argentina, Cyprus, Antigua and Barbuda, Jordan, Uruguay and Cuba became committee buddies-- We sent notes to each other about amending articles, sending memos to the other two sub committees and going out for coffee when the unmoderated caucus was called for.

South Africa got my salutations because he spoke with a britly clipped accent, and wore his turban and beard with true Sikh pride. Namibia was quietly amused. Losotho became Cyprus's close allies in clandestine breaks and laughing down certain votes. Ireland looked different without his tie, and deserved the award he got at the end.

Zimbabwe hit on mongolia. Chile followed a delegate who is from China but refused to tell me what country she represented. At 2:30am, sitting in the lobby with my bare feet up on a coffee table and my ipod on, I saw diplomatic relations carried on like never before. And yet, there was a sense of community to all of it: that all this dancing, and talking, and drunken pulling of fire alarms was done in the spirit of global good will.

Caught between cynicism and amusement, I was witness to beauty.

Like when the norwegian delegate sat down at the lobby grand piano, midst the false fire alarms and wobbly giggling female delegates, and played till his veins stood out. He played classical music up and down the scales never stopping, for two hours.

Like when Pakistan sent a cordial note to me, asking me to explain my reference to Musharraf. Like us toasting each other with beers across a room at the delegate's dance that evening.

Like Chile and I discussing canadian politics [of which, as a native, he is privy to] till 4am.

Like Ron the security guy discussing the Patriots and Life with those who stood around, unbuzzed, midst running after underage drinkers on the 14th floor.

Like getting stuck in an elevator with 21 other people and realizing that yes, I am claustrophobic.

Like hearing a delegate's take on model UNs, and why Harvard is full of sods-- Unorganized, he said. I seconded the motion.

As he said, nothing comes out of model UNs, except funding, fun and a good resume. Hopping up and down outside the Park Plaza hotel to keep warm in the -2 degree night that surrounded us, he said that he went up to speak at his first couple of model UNs in order to get laid. Which occured, of course [NB-- You agree with everything said by a drunken graduate post 1:35am. Its a thing]. But now, he said-- this was all pomp and show.

But of course. It's Harvard. But what hurts those of us who can consume alcohol and stay intelligent, is that such conferences are living proof of why the UN never succeeds in settling political disputes.

For instance-- The treaty that the UNWC came up with finally, had no reference to smart economic sanctions, eventhough the treaty contained specs for the creation of a body that would oversee matters of unilateral action. The amendment was shot down by those who sat up front, who-- as happens in most democratic processes these days-- were a minority. The majority sat beyond the microphones, and in silent angst, sent notes and played knoughts and crosses.

This new body that was set up would have no say about unilateral economic sanctions, "smart" or otherwise.

And in today's edition of the NYTimes and Washington Post?
Israel has frozen the financial assets of the new government in Palestine, which will leave the bureaucracy hamstrung by the end of this month. They claim to have done this as they fear Hamas will now take the government in an extremist direction. They have done this despite global dialogue, Russia's stance, and Abbas publically coming out at every opportunity and saying that there would be no extremist action taken, and the peace process would carry on. They have done this inspite of Hamas having shown no proof of "extremist" decisions as a legal part of the legislative, today.

And no one will say anything about it.

And we, unofficial diplomats, tied our own hands by leaving the amendment out.

Now you know why so much booze was consumed those three nights. Or so I was told.

NB-- If drinking in a bar in Boston, make sure you tip well. Otherwise she will muck up your mojito. Ah, Experience! The cruel lessons you teach!

Also-- The biggest thrill for me in Boston this weekend? Going into the hotel's bar, opening a tab, and paying for it myself. 3 drinks, a quiet wish that they played Floyd istead of 50 Cent, and a leisurely exit into the lobby, to talk to Ron, and take a tulip from an arrangement up to the room.

Speaking of Floyd though-- Thanks to Google video, I was blessed enough to come across sections of the 1970 studio sessions that the band did in California. I also go to see a few of the Pulse videos, like High Hopes and Comfortably Numb. My cup ran over and made a priyanka puddle, only coz I also got to see the 'see emily play' video, and pigs on the wing too.

In short, I am mellower, wiser, richer in experience and good accquaintances and loaded with homework like only Sisyphus would understand. Good stuff, at the end of the day.

PS: If you go to Boston, visit 'au bon pain'-- the best sandwiches and pain au chocolat I've had in a long time.

PPS: Jeff Buckley was born the angel he now literally is. If you have not heard his cover of Cohen's 'Hallelujah', and if you have a gmail account, then let me know.

Look, ma-- I'm flyin'!

disclaimer: the blogger would like her readers to remember she just recently turned 21, and for all her maturity can't resist such an opportunity to yell out

WHOOO-HOOO!!!

ahem. So Im a tad kicked. One of my poems were selected to be read out at the Kala Ghoda arts festival in Mumbai on the 12th of this month.

Here's the official report of the same-- Apparently someone played the violin in an effort to interpret the poem, which btw, can be found here.

I'm curious why the violinist tried to find a "calmness" in what he felt was the "disturbed" atmosphere of the thing.

[Do note my barefaced pomposity: I'm actually dissecting this damn thing, on my own blog, under my own name, the very moment I hear about it. Damn kids these days]

I'm also curious to know what the faces of those listening looked like.

But mostly, I am grateful.

The 6th of this month

What a day. It took 4 days of reflection [and threatening imran with death by drowning in a small innocuous pool of anorexic bat's blood if he didn't send me the pictures, with much thanks to anshu for the image] to finally type this out.

It was magnificent. Mum and dad decided to wish me when it was my birthday in India. As did the duck. My brother did the same-- all these happy people in India & Australia are officially declared by me to be living in the wrong hemisphere. Hmph. No, but it was a good feeling. Much wuv. Much sleepy thanks and falling asleep midst wishes. Beautiful.

Kevin and gina got me a cake. Ned was there to sing along. Hell, everyone should have ned to sing at their birthday cake-cutting. And gina put on 21 candles.

Gul wished me. My onion called. Lamya and imran sent cards. BENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN you doll, you did try, am sorry. Far away, along a starlit coast in Pondi, a drink was had at 7:31 as a "plesent". Got a whole bunch of wishes on ryze and facebook-- Hena was there thrice, with that damn red nose of hers. Baldy came by too :) My maya got me my first lip-liner: neutral, and tasting of caramel. The guys took me out for dinner to jackie's galaxy. We had much food and fun.

How cycles change.
The people who were the most important to me, about this time last year, were no where in sight.
And I don't hold this against 'em, at all.
But such is beautiful, all this journeying. To truly know, without any discussion, that everything and every person is on its way to someplace.

Am at peace.

Has anyone btw, tried salvia? Do tell.

"Today is the greatest day I ’ve ever known"...

... As the Smashing Pumpkins once said. And of course, you will let me tell you why.

My roomie is now my ex-roomie-- Not only does this mean that I can
1.sleep in my birthday suit
2.play AC/DC as loud as I like it , and
3.yell vernacular profanities & words of affection over the phone long distance,
but it also means that I have a sweet pad all to myself. Abdel & imran are coming over on Friday to help me set up, and the rest of the crew will show up and we will celebrate my new found "space" with chinese take out, arabic music and much yelling.

My birthday was beautiful, and made perfect by people from around the world. How often can a body claim such to happen in a lifetime? I am happy. More on that when imran sends me pictures to go with the copy.

Got to read Amit's brilliant blog-- Kept me enthralled for an hour. Stopped only because msn called. Wonderful stuff.

Also-- The scholarship gods have agreed to our collective idea to go down to n'orleans and help out during spring break. That's right-- no body shots in cancun, we're here to be responsible. Ahem.

This evening, I was lucky enough to meet the current president of Brown-- Dr. Ruth Simmons is an inspiration. Erudite she is. Dressed in pink, smiling chocolate. Calm, her voice like aged honey and summer in a school that rarely hears such. I will one day accept a degree from her on a stage. This is a promise... to my quackles.

Lit mag is a great class-- Im actually learning how to put together a magazine in there, the absolute nit-grits of editing, proofing, querying, typesetting, you name it Im in it. This is all good.

There's a summer internship in washington d.c with amnesty international. There is a global water class where I get to present papers.

goals to be fulfilled before dec 2006:

1) visit the gym more than just a fly-by on the way to the mail room.
2) make lots of money, legally.
3) finish writing my book.
4) develop a strategy to provide clean water to... ok, will stop.

Top of the day to ye.

Someday

More people hearing abt flipsyde thanks to the Winter games commercial. They have other songs that are more brilliant lyric-wise, but this has a certain... thinggy... to it.

SOMEDAY (Flipsyde)

Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com

"Dance fools, dance"

It was a great movie, one that launched Clark Gable's career and that made me stay up till 2:30am one night in madras, when I was in the 8th.

Joan Crawford will always be brilliant.

Anyway, the title seemed to make sense as a title for this blog, considering all the noise thats been happening. Don't get me wrong-- Im all for serious dicussion. When things get out of hand though--

I dance.

And this is a great one to do that to.

DANCE, DANCE (Fall Out Boy)

Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com

Post Scriptum

There's an article on the danish caricature issue on msnbc.com.

The article states that both the administration in washington and the Danish ministry said that the drawings were offensive.

The article also says that "Dutch-language newspapers in Belgium and two Italian right-wing papers reprinted the drawings on Friday. The Italian papers also ran editorials criticizing European media for giving in to pressure over the drawings"

There is an online poll available on this same article, asking if the "anti-denmark protests are justified"?

Yes 15%

No 82%

Undecided 4%

I put this here as a juxtaposition to my previous blogpost, the reactions of those who read that, and abhinav's comments on it.

Because what's beautiful about democracy is its relativity-- a minority on this tiny little space in blogdom is in "reality"-- at least on an american-based and american-sponsored website-- a majority.

I put this here to show that Abhinav is not alone in his reaction to the issue.

I put this here to show how "freedom of press" can be extended to include any amount of libel or disrespect, the same way that the "necessary and proper" clause in the american constitution can be extended to include illegal surveillance and warantless imprisonment.

I put this here to showcase certain quotes out of this article:

Danish Prime Minister Anders Fogh Rasmussen, in a meeting with Egypt’s ambassador, reiterated his stance that the government cannot interfere with issues concerning the press. On Monday, he said his government could not apologize on behalf of a newspaper, but that he personally “never would have depicted Muhammad, Jesus or any other religious character in a way that could offend other people.”

While recognizing the importance of freedom of the press and expression, U.S. State Department press officer Janelle Hironimus said these rights must be coupled with press responsibility.

“Inciting religious or ethnic hatred in this manner is not acceptable,” Hironimus said. “We call for tolerance and respect for all communities and for their religious beliefs and practices.”

And another quote:

"“If they want a war of religions, we are ready,” Hassan Sharaf, an imam in Nablus, said in his sermon"

And then:

"The Jyllands-Posten said it had asked cartoonists to draw images of the prophet “to examine whether people would succumb to self-censorship, as we have seen in other cases when it comes to Muslim issues.”

Turkey’s Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan was quoted as saying the caricatures are an attack on “our spiritual values,” adding they had damaged efforts to establish an alliance between the Muslim world and Europe"

Finally,

"In Europe, senior British, French and Italian officials criticized the drawings. Austria, which holds the European Union presidency, expressed concern over the escalating crisis.

“I believe that the republication of these cartoons has been unnecessary, it has been insensitive, it has been disrespectful and it has been wrong,” British Foreign Secretary Jack Straw said"

To clarify then, once and for all--

Abhinav, and all those who hold the same view as you do on this matter--

I am not pro censorship. I am pro sensitivity. The newspaper's claim that it was all an "exercise" is ludicrous, only because it is dangerous to publically play with people's emotions. And when I say it is dangerous, it is not to imply that the world should now centre its media and culture on being sympathetic to islam. I say it is dangerous because we do not live in isolation today. Such acts affects entire countries and economies. Such acts cause an increase in hatred when communication between nations is already in a fragile state.

I say it once again-- cartoons of the pope raping a choirboy will raise global rhetoric. But it will not send the catholic nation to war with the country whose paper published it. For two reasons-- One, that there is no catholic nation, at least not comparable to the extent that there is a muslim ummah. Secondly-- For the western christian world, catholism is but a sect, and economic and cultural matters take precedence over religious matters.

Islam is unlike any world religion because of that matter. As Haqqani points out in his 'Pakistan" between mosque and military', this monotheistic religion ties in with every aspect of a beliver's life-- whether it is at the family, business or governmental level. That is a difference. And misunderstanding that difference, or trying to test its limits is sheer blindness and folly.

Do not kill the danish cartoonists. Make them see reason.
Do not carry out "experiments" in social theory using caricatures in newspapers to test how far you can push people. This can and will be equated to acts of torture in abu ghraib. And why not? There too, all the soldiers were trying to do is to test how far they could push people.

Do not force people to defend their religion. Do not use freedom as a mask while inciting hatred.

And to think some jewish scribe ages back thought that writing about 10 commandments would be enough to keep an entire group of people safe and free from strife.

Pitiful, we humans are. I am still sad.

3 old men, a fishbowl and a song

At the Live 8 concert in London, what remains of Pink Floyd came together for charity.

When the opening notes are plucked, Waters [I think its Waters, doesn't sound like Gilmour] says this:

"its actually quite emotional, standing up here with these three guys after all these years. Standing to be counted with the rest of you.. Anyway, we're doing this for everyone who's not here, but particularly of course, for Syd"

'we're just two lost souls
swimming in a fishbowl, year after year.
running over the same old ground. What have we found?
The same old fears,
wish you were here'.

Listen to it here. And hold my hand, I don't care about being a baby just this once.

Reviewing reactions to Islam and Terrorism

God bless foreignpolicy.com-- Its a great, low-cost way of accessing the magazine online and reading relevant opinions on current issues.

Take for instance, C. Christine Fair & Husain Haqqani's article on on islamist terrorism,'Think Again: Islamist Terrorism'. A well written article, that seeks to clear away the prevailing myths about who terrorists are and where they come from:

"Pundits and politicians of all stripes are quick to offer their wisdom on what fuels Islamist terrorism. It just so happens that much of what they say is wrong. Poverty doesn’t produce terrorists, a solution to the Israel-Palestine problem isn’t a cure-all, and young Muslim men aren’t the most likely to turn to terror. If we are going to fight a war on terror, the least we can do is understand who we are fighting"

The article addresses some of the most burning aspects of islamist terrorism that papers such as the New York Times have devoted many dead trees to, ever since 2001-- Madrasas for example, and the muslim, unmarried, male, unemployed demographic thats been touted as the most susceptible to acts of terrorism.

"“Young, Unmarried Muslim Males Are the Most Likely to Become Terrorists”
No. It is de rigueur to suggest that young, unmarried, Muslim males are the most likely population to become terrorists or to support terrorism. But from the perspective of the global supply of terrorists, this claim is false. Consider the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam in Sri Lanka. They are the world’s single largest group of suicide bombers. Their cadres are not Muslim, but Hindu by religion and nearly 40 percent are female.

Even on the issue of support for terrorism, there is reason to be skeptical about the popular convention that young males are leading the pack. In a recent survey of 6,000 Muslims in 14 countries published in Studies in Conflict & Terrorism, females were more likely to support terrorism than were males. What’s more, married and unmarried persons are equally likely to support terrorism..."

As stated before, it is a well written article. C. Christine Fair is a senior research associate at the United States Institute of Peace, and Husain Haqqani is a visiting scholar at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace and is a source well-trusted by Prof. Sawoski, a teacher of mine whose classes deal with international relations here at RWU.

However, a point I found interesting was this--

"...the significance of each regional conflict varies from one jihadi group to the next. For Algerian jihadists, their war, provoked by the refusal of the pro-Western Algerian military to accept the results of elections won by Islamists in 1991, is as significant as Palestinian resistance to Israel. Pakistani and Kashmiri jihadists spew the greatest amount of venom in their publications against “Hindu India,” not Jewish Israel..."

By stating such, the authors seem to point out that there are multiple causes, and multiple groups. This much may be true. And yet, the fact is that if what is perceived as an insult or threat is offered to the global أمة or ummah, a collective reaction will be offered by all jihadi groups, around the world.

Take for instance, the recent matter of a danish newspaper publishing "offensive" cartoons-- "The newspaper published caricatures of the Prophet Muhammad, some of which depicted him as a terrorist" (bbc.co.uk)

There were reactions to this act at all levels, from around the world-- Ministers of 17 arab nations asked the Danish government to take strong action against those responsible. Embassies were closed, or the threat was made to recall ambassadors. The publication was protested in Gaza-- many thousands of miles away. Secretary General of the Arab League Amr Moussa said:

"Why do they talk about democracy and freedom of expression just when the issue concerns Islam?" he asked. "If it concerns other religions the facts will change."

Bingo, Mr. Moussa. This is the indicator of the key fact that the authors of the FP article, the danish newspaper editors and the danish government have collectively overlooked-- Islam today has a unifying strength that no other global religion has. This is because it is far more monotheistic than christianity is today, and carries a sense of community that other religions don't have, or possess to a smaller degree. There is no hurting the sensibilities of a part of it-- You affect the whole.

The editor of the paper tried arguing for the freedom of speech. He forgot abt malicious libel.

Its not about religion or ideas-- it is people dealing with people, people hurting other people. The "terrorists" are not fighting a crusade, or attempting to convert the world to their belief. They are protecting their culture and beliefs from external aggression. Take away the aggression and things could only get better.

But who am I to talk?

That danish cartoonist is going to have his ass kicked though. Rightfully so. How dare you use the gentle art of cartooning for propoganda? Children and whimsical-minded adults read that stuff. May the spirit of Gary Larson and Bill Watterson twist his undies forever. Sniff.

I need bed. I also needed a post scriptum on this piece, due to the comments it generated. Do read it, here.

Crikey!

By gorry, do I have much to tell ye--

of a quiet enlightenment, a love I thought I lost only to find I always had, a new penchant for shoes, my run in with the law, trans-atlantic flights, unexpected angels and MA courses.

It will all be told. Slowly, slowly.

For now though, an article that MUST be pointed out-- Attorney general Gonzales trying to justify the illegal serveillance indulged in by the Bush Administration:

Confronting Gonzales during his nearly half-hour speech were more than a dozen young people in the audience who turned their backs to him and held up for a banner for television cameras. The banner, loosely based on a Benjamin Franklin quote, read: "Those who would sacrifice liberty for security deserve neither."

- PETE YOST, Associated Press Writer.

Read the full article here. And check out the pic-- Dang, I'm proud of these guys.

WHOOO-HOOOOO!!!!!

Walk the Line just picked up the golden globe.

Joaquin Phoenix won best actor. Reese Witherspoon won best actress-- The category hasn't shown up yet on starworld, but bloomberg.com carries the news.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

I LOVED THIS MOVIE!

ok, I know. No typing in caps. But I'm happy.

Oh aye-- In india. Will be back on tuesday.

The Reason

For the longest time, I have not been able to understand why I came back to madras this winter. There had to be a reason for leaving my comforter-lined new-found fishbowl behind so soon-- Come on, 7 months doesn't warrant a teary-eyed return to ma and pa. It wasn't like I was homesick. In fact, as late as october, my plans for the season were meant to include at least two of the following:

i)working with Maya in the global studies office in Bristol

2) Going back to Portland and seeing Laura and Ryan and Kansei and Aman and Mike and Mary and Linda.

3)Ayush, Maya, Abdel Khader and myself together yelling in Timesquare when the ball would fall on 31st night.

And till yesterday, I did not know the reason why all that didn't happen. Being with mum and setting up the tree is all very well. Meeting old friends and new, driving to the coast and plane-ing it to delhi is quite alright. But that didnt explain a certain pattern to my actions-- ensuring I met the people I had been with last year around the same time. Laughing with them, grateful that I exist now outside their lives. Grateful too, that the few I count as close, still are. Driving past certain places-- an ex-college, a fishing village, a mofussil bus terminus, a temple, a beach, a chinese restaurant, a bridge. My room that carries no scent or smell of me, anymore. Throwing out old papers, old books. Climbing up to my water tank, relieved to find that the dragon spirit that used to live there has now gone.

It took a little book to tell me that I returned due to the second of the two greatest instincts known to human kind. The first one is fear.

"Then she turned, moved closer to Pedro Cantos, and did what she had lived for.

She curled up behind him: she pulled her knees up to her chest; aligned her feet until she felt her legs perfectly paired, the two thighs softly joined, the knees like two cups balanced one on the other, the calves separated by nothing; she shrugged her shoulders slightly and slid her hands, joined, between her legs. She looked at herself. She saw an old doll.

She smiled. Shell and animal.

Then she thought that however incomprehensible life is, probably we move through it with the single desire to return to the hell that created us, to live beside whoever, once, saved us from the inferno. She tried to ask herself where this absurd faithfulness to horror came from but found that she had no answers. She understod only that nothing is stronger than the instinct to return, to where they broke us, and to replicate that moment forever. Only thinking that the one who saved us once can do it forever. In a long hell identical to the one from which we came. But suddenly merciful and without blood"
- Baricco, Alessandro. 'Without Blood', Trans. by Ann Goldstein.

I returned due to the second of the two greatest instincts known to human kind--

The need for
closure...

Merry christmas, darfur. Happy new year, baghdad.

On the Greatest Song U2 ever wrote

And don't think that this was written in a drunken frenzy, or in haste to avoid yet another of those oh so famous madrasi power cuts.

Now I know you've had this discussion with yourself and whichever peer group you choose to go on a downer trip with--

"dude, 'with or without you'. I know the words backwards, and--"

"yeah man, when he sings "nothing to win and--"

"nothing left to lose. Fuck. And you give yourself away..

fuck. I need another drink"

True. I see the point in this discussion. Any poor fallen sod who's had the ill luck to have loved and lost the one person who will--unwillingly-- haunt every 3rd waking thought; any poor sod who will refuse to attempt getting 7 hours sleep for fear of dreaming; any such unfortunate wraith *will* share this view-point, and will--hoarse-voiced-- yell along with Bono, 3:03 into the song.

[For wraiths we are. Overweight, with blotchy lungs and dusty shoes. The undead have it better: at least they are just the decaying fleshy presence of their past. Wraiths are shadows: If we reach out to hold your hand, you cannot feel us. If we try weeping, we get a headache and itch horrifically for a smoke. We can't handle light, class reunions and old photographs. And no high works, and no new year party. But I digress.]

'With or without you' will always be a masterpiece. It is a song for the dying, for the idiot romeo who wakes up and realizes juliet couldn't see through his bad acting. It is a song for the loser left waving at an empty space in a crowd at the airport. It is meant to be sung along to on the radio when you're driving back to your personal hole, alone.

You can close your eyes at the end of it. But the screw up is, unless you have actually overcome hamlet's dilemma, pulled a madonnaish rebrand or jumped off your terrace's water tank , you have to open your eyes again and deal with the next song and the dawned day.

Which is where 'One' comes in.

'With or without you' is a howling at the moon. It's a drag race over the cliff. It's a blade in your wrist and the last words of Cobain when he said that if only he could fly with fire like Freddie on stage, if only the performance still had that for him...

'One' is for the man or woman who has the incredible balls to go sober and undoped where s/he is certain to find the ex. 'One' is for the calm handshake at the wedding, with no flamboyant gestures, because in truth no one is Slash and life aint a gnr video.

This song is for those who have the kind of humility that only comes with living the loss. This one is for the quiet standing face to face, and the laying down of the still sharp-edged weapons in front of the one who knows how to use them best. This song is for those who have the grace to turn away, no matter the mob, the kisses, the tears, the foot pressed against yours in silence.

This is for the meeting in a corner table for coffee, leaning forward and asking quietly
"is it getting better
or do you feel the same
is it getting any easier on you now
you've got someone to blame."

It is the song for kissing the ex, and then cursing yourself for the poisoned bitterness you both exchanged, when you laughed like it was no big deal and this is the way grown ups meet, and hey I'm busy all day tomorrow, and my flight's in the night so see you when I see you, and take care of yourself.

It is walking back upstairs without screaming your rage at yourself, it is refusing to give into being a compulsive alcoholic, it is admitting you are a coward, it is admitting you cannot live without him but now must, it is admitting you are overweight and don't give a flying fuck. It is admitting that it was more than just need in the night, and that nothing you write or say can ever change the words you typed over msn. It is admitting that it's too late tonight to drive the past out into the night. It is knowing the restraint it takes to not blog this, and admitting you have none. It is wishing you had refused that kiss. It is not minding them selling the story on their blog, to Time or NDTV. It is accepting that they had the nerve to make the final cut. It is telling your parents that everything is fine. It is not changing the song however much it aches. It is not clicking the send button.

Did I ask too much, more than a lot
You gave me nothing now its all I've got
We're one but we're not the same
we've hurt each other and we'll do it again.

It is bono and pearl jam performing the song live together, and bono, over the out-of-tuned screams tears hugs cries of the crowd, quietly flowing into the chorus of 'unchained melody'.

Because that's the fuck up with being a wraith. We may turn away, but we can never forget.

One of the greeks [remind me which one, please] said that we are all but halves of a whole, wandering the earth to find the completing piece. So what happens when you realize you're the kid who ate the 3,999th jigsaw piece, that you're the dude who broke the last match-stick in the last match-box on the camping trip at 2:04am?

There is no such thing as a new year. The power fails, and when you reboot, winamp comes up clean coz you hadn't saved the playlist.

Mr. Kipling, I know you said that if I could bend and pick up the pieces when the others break it down, I would have the earth and all that's in it.

But what if I raised the first hammer, and what if I don't want the earth, nothing at all except the thing that cannot be?

The song's changed. The Stones have a new album. He won't meet me tomorrow. Bob sings that when you hear the music, you feel no pain.

Goodnight, Mr. Marley. The song is done, the time has come.. thought I'd something more to say.

My muse sits

**********

My muse sits, her fat white spotted shiny-skinned calves stretched folded
Against the power of her squat in the light by the door.

She chooses to be fat. As she chooses to not wear bras and dog ear books and

Leave me.

As she does, often.

Pain is often brought, so much that like an unwanted baby striped, cottoned and warm
Piles of it are left around the floor of my mind, second hand clothes…

**********

I right.

I right for the might is in flight by night of words that bite with tooth-marks of light so blood run like kite like glory volcano sight.

I right.

I left my write a while back coz pain like a sack was stuck to my back till calcium lack made my knee go slack and…

I right.

Wait. I no right.

Now, I right.
Right so the all of the call will be
answered by rise and fall of apples
and the dead who are fed the seeds in your bed and…

I right.

Was I left?

I left the parts that were bought
And then sought on red silk that caught
Whispers like flu by corners in a loo and televised voodoo
That left you with plenty to see and nothing to…

I left when I knew that my muse read the news only for the funnies
And sweated in pews n' climaxed with the bunnies
That rolled on Discovery and possibly the green by the sheen
Of the moon and the Thames with Beatles in May.

I left where the word-pictures took curtain calls and made trunk calls
Where men and women left doodles on the walls of latrines whose sorrows
Were mourning waterfalls of lipstick and wishlick and Russian blonde heeled sputniks
All who ran man can pan hooved, laughing
Into the wilderness and jazz of parting, dancing.

I left who declared who be losers and who were the spared
Who cored my mind’s cunt and told me they cared
Who woke without grace or the necessary pace to get
Past the tangled sax of dreaming on a TV talk-show set.

I left how I came- plenty noise and taking my name
Back to before we turned the same like custard and mustard
All yellow and spineless no caress for the cess of our minds made sure
Our baits left us and we lost our lure

I left why I left why I left why I left
Why I left, was coz to die was a lie for
Who went? like your mothers back your will bent.

I left

to

right

Backwards.

Forwards

I right to be left which is best for the zest of a lime cut fresh
That comes with a world free and hair-ee.
I right to be left that is political that like conical
Is a shape that is susceptible
To faith and fall and fear and the maul
Of not quite walking the straight yellow line.

I right.

Now I right?

What is left?

Space on the page of this flat white cage
To hold the purest part of my droppings of rage

Damn you.
What is left?

I write.

Googlistically speaking

I'm trippin'.
Procrastinatin'.

But honestly, this was fun. Unfortunately, 'priyanka' brought up way too much abt the gandhi and the chopra, and it got boring. And apparently, Google doesn't know the blue goblin yet.

[insert threatening yet woeful growls]

So I settled for this.

My favourite?

pj is the meta devil.

Go figure. Go be a googligan.


pj is the man
pj is 2sweet2bbeat
pj is in the babybedroom
pj is made of stars
pj is back home
pj is in need of a loving home in ca
pj is famous?
pj is drifting more and more away from the huge
pj is home
pj is like rodney dangerfield
pj is evicted from big brother
pj is out
pj is a developer toolkit for parsing
pj is home and big troubles
pj is distributed in binary form in a single jar file called hip
pj is the first user interface framework that brings state
pj is not a gi jane poster girl
pj is
pj is a shameless publicity hound so if you are with a periodical
pj is between p
pj is famous? pj is famous? posted by
pj is a champion 14 lb
pj is the best golfer on the team
pj is ready
pj is not a man of few words
pj is our older norwegian fjord gelding who was born "ryvar" on a farm in illinois in 1980
pj is drifting more and more away from the huge fanbase they used to have
pj is an angel on earth she has wiped away my tears
pj is the biggest agency in pechiney world trade and since 1994
pj is made of all mahogany
pj is growing out of the stripes around her face
pj is now doing their homework together with fbi to lock down "hackers" who aleggely are involved on us hacks
pj is diagnosed when the freckles are noticed or hamartomas are found in the intestinal tract
pj is fond of many outside activities
pj is illegal if
pj is a social science graduate
pj is a director of a successful ten
pj is a breath of fresh air
pj is one of the easiest
pj is the meta devil
pj is featured on lead vocals and accordian
pj is short for a pompano jig
pj is devoted to the history of the japanese people and how and why they react to one another within their own society
pj is sponsored by
pj is listed in the world artist directory
pj is eligible to work legally in the following countries
pj is a pourable version of the popular polywater® j high performance pulling lubricant
pj is an area located in the district of petaling
pj is a factor of m
pj is just naturally curious and ready for anything
pj is saved from her pretensions by the force of her talent
pj is our retired racing greyhound
pj is so unattractive and was'nt he childish going on about why alex never picked him
pj is one of the best clowns in america winning numerous awards for her creativity
pj is a complete visual programming language based on the concepts of parallel
pj is for you
pj is a parlor
pj is defensive
pj is introduced as a man who has all the answers
pj is a toolbox for parsing
pj is wanting to get first tickets and she's first on the line
pj is clearly at height t+1 we have completed the induction
pj is currently enjoying a two
pj is also a member of the american association of suicidology and is both a member of and certified by the association for death education & counseling as a
pj is still scheduled to play bumbershoot in seattle on aug
pj is having no trouble keeping her music fresh while keeping her vision pure
pj is a big boy & is already potty trained
pj is the odds
pj is trypsin
pj is in a better place now
pj is contained in xðp; jÞ
pj is one to look out for
pj is now tested against pk
pj is all too happy to set the record straight now that he is back in the real world
pj is a relatively easy model to restore given the fact that there were more than 350
pj is currently busy working on
pj is a great source file management tool
pj is ?
pj is a very affectionate hamster and just loves to be cuddled
pj is the millennium place project coming up in the section 14 area

"The dead suffered a wrong. Uphold justice"

There is a fishing village near Hong Kong and its name is Dongzhou. At the mouth of the bridge leading to their village, a group of Dongzhou's residents, numbering about 100, gathered to hold a banner with the above line scrawled on it.

The chinese paramilitary forces are at it again.

And here is the curious truth: Tiananmen Square was apparently not enough for the administration. And neither is the first time since 1989 that violence has been inflicted on the little people in China.

It happened because the villagers were protesting the building of a power plant.

This is not the first time. If it aint a power plant, its oil ownership issues. If it aint oil, its the falun gong.

And the only reason yankville hasn't said anything to chinaland is because of trade and deficits.

The things you can buy these days. Silence, blindness, and battery operated foot massagers.

Qua-ack?

The United States, which generates a quarter of the world's greenhouse gases, had questioned the need to engage in even nonbinding talks on the subject. When the Europeans and Canadians proposed such talks Thursday, chief American climate negotiator Harlan Watson rejected it on the grounds that it would be tantamount to formal negotiations.

"If it walks like a duck and talks like duck, it's a duck," Watson told the other delegates, according to several participants in the closed midnight session.

As Watson walked out, one of the other delegates, baffled, responded: "I don't understand your reference to a duck. What about this document is like a duck?"

- 'U.S. Joins Informal Talks on Warming', by Juliet Eilperin
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, December 10, 2005; Page A01.


Read the full article here.Only good thing about yank Presidential second terms: they're on the way out & don't give a duck's beak about winning the vote of petroleum paladins and arms manufacturers. Thus they can finally concentrate on energy policies that will keep us all, bird and human alike, breathing easier.

Quacky.