I'm back my pretties and all the flying houses in Kansas can fall on me now for all I care. For those of you in high school, I've got a piece of advice. Learn to sing, breakdance or juggle eggs but avoid University at all costs. It's all a huge, obese sham (thought I'd try the thesaurus-guided writing style of the infamous Ogre Wahid for a sentence). They work you to death and for what? To come out at the other end sapped of all your individuality and thoroughly convinced that every independent thought you've ever had fits into some perverse historian's/philosopher's/scientist's world-view (this is in no way an attack on Mary-Jo's blog, which I adore, and shame on you for thinking it is now that I've suggested it).
Seriously though. Dr. Borg-Muscat if you ever read my blog, I love you but I don't respect you anymore. A veritable golden-hearted hooker, you are, you Julia Roberts of academia. You disappear for a whole semester, return from your holiday (probably in Mykonos) and give me 71% for an essay which I practically stole from all the secondary sources I referenced throughout. Moral of the story: Don't bother with all that critical engagement these hypocrites harp about. The occasional "the" and an "a" or two will suffice in between a billion quotes from a dozen other people you've never met and will never care about.
So much for college life. I'm back on track where I belong. Doing things which I hate less than being anally raped by a horse. And what could I possibly like more than that? Sing it for me Corinne my Nubian goddess.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Valentiniosity
That's my word for a person's attitude toward the 14th of February. There's your broken-hearted Romeo who feels that this day is another twisting of the knife stuck firmly in his perineum. The multi-cat-owning single-woman in her 30s which is a broad stereotype native to Western movies who guilt-trips her friends into taking her out with them and then subsequently spends the whole night thinking of ways to convince everyone else in love to clean the underside of a guillotine blade.
However if we venture outside the abstract, attitudes towards Valentine's day are so varied that there are almost no generalizations to be drawn from them. Except when it comes to women (you predictable creatures, said he in a paternalistic tone). Women, of every size, shape and color, love flowers (no need to deny it ladies) while every human being (get ready for an exclusionary condition to your humanity) loves chocolate. So the rest depends on how dumb anyone is to refuse two of these irresistable goodies just to make a point.
I on the other hand am not confused at all about a day which, in today's world, has nothing to do with Saints and religions. And all because I have been asked to be someone's Valentine and that someone is mine as well (take that all you suicidal loners. HAH!). If not, you might have found me lecturing anyone who would listen on the pointless evils of the least offensive four-letter word in English. But not this year. It's all pink clouds, rainbows and butterflies for me.
Alright I'm grossing myself out now so time to go to song before I induce a worldwide pukademic. I normally don't do this but I feel it's only fair to let the theme song for love's greatest holiday come from the culture where 99.9% of the music consists of love songs. Here's Tera Mera Pyaar Sanam sung by what looks like a prison dyke and some garden gnome at a piano. Hell, I can't do this on Valentine's day. Falguni Patak and Bombay Vikings, I love you too. Mwah. Let your love light shine through everybody!
However if we venture outside the abstract, attitudes towards Valentine's day are so varied that there are almost no generalizations to be drawn from them. Except when it comes to women (you predictable creatures, said he in a paternalistic tone). Women, of every size, shape and color, love flowers (no need to deny it ladies) while every human being (get ready for an exclusionary condition to your humanity) loves chocolate. So the rest depends on how dumb anyone is to refuse two of these irresistable goodies just to make a point.
I on the other hand am not confused at all about a day which, in today's world, has nothing to do with Saints and religions. And all because I have been asked to be someone's Valentine and that someone is mine as well (take that all you suicidal loners. HAH!). If not, you might have found me lecturing anyone who would listen on the pointless evils of the least offensive four-letter word in English. But not this year. It's all pink clouds, rainbows and butterflies for me.
Alright I'm grossing myself out now so time to go to song before I induce a worldwide pukademic. I normally don't do this but I feel it's only fair to let the theme song for love's greatest holiday come from the culture where 99.9% of the music consists of love songs. Here's Tera Mera Pyaar Sanam sung by what looks like a prison dyke and some garden gnome at a piano. Hell, I can't do this on Valentine's day. Falguni Patak and Bombay Vikings, I love you too. Mwah. Let your love light shine through everybody!
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
...And All the Sinners Are Saints
As I'm in the process of writing my dissertation I can't seem to get out of thinking in academic-English-mode, so this post is going to reflect that in all its boring glory (still managed to squeeze in a little wordplay with the name of a flower though).
Let me begin in the proper formulaic manner from a personal premise. My father (who aren't in heaven) was once arrested and sentenced to banishment from the island of his birth for impersonating popular orator (sympathy for the devil being the theme) and shameless political opportunist (so much for that), Ibrahim Shihab on audiotape. Such an incident might be as commonplace as fashion-challenged men in effeminate plaid-patterned pajama-pants in the Maldives of today but in the days of yore it was definitely worth a "hoo" and a "ha". A simple question comes to mind which, I'm pretty sure, only warrants an answer any respectable somnambulist can give in a state of REM. But are conventional answers really satisfactory? Why the difference? Why do some crimes go through such a radical redefinition? Is this change ethical? Inevitable? Is it right? Should we give a flying fuck?
Take murder for instance. Once a simple crime punishable by geographically, culturally and religiously variable means of retribution. The picture at present is a lot more complicated in Westphalic law which is slowly taking over the world. There's manslaughter, plain old homicide, justifiable homicide in self-defense etcetera etcetera. Now I'm going to hit anyone who's reading this post with my not-quite controversial perspective on the whole shebang (which incidentally is my favorite quote by Emily Deschanel on the tv show Bones. Marry me Emily!). I don't put much stock in psychology (Nadha is SO gonna hate me). Especially when it comes to law courts when juries can be so easily manipulated with paid testimonies from "proffessionals" and "experts". So I'm asking the question. Can murder be justified? Certainly not every murder is equally reprehensible but (there's a but) does the motive justify the means and the end? The very difficulty of establishing motive makes the whole thing even fuzzier for me.
Up next, there's a perennial argument I have with my small group of mostly neo-con friends. Are drugs really so evil? Should they all fall under blanket bans? A very good friend of mine, who ironically despises marijuana, thinks it should be legalized everywhere from his particular economic worldview (Hashim you money-mad Adam Smith, you). His position being that if real honest-to-goodness shops sold good quality weed then there would be less crime associated with the sale and use of it. I certainly agree. If regular cigarettes were outlawed I would be the first person to kill, steal and suck cock in order to get my fix.
Now out of the courts and into the streets. What's the foremost concern which is a universal constant for all of us beyond the age of 10? (Ten being an arbitrary number based on when I first ejaculated. I define the very concept of tell-all, no?) Not hard to guess what the answer I was expecting for my own question was. Sex. And one of the biggest complaints and criticisms centering around people's sex lives have to do with sexual promiscuity.
But what really is promiscuity? The word has a tidy little definition but it's unsupported by surveys or statistics. So we're all free, as we please, to use it to derogate people who just simply have more sex than we do (whether out of jealousy, contempt or disgust doesn't really concern me). Why is extreme promiscuity either called a criminal tendency stemming from moral bankruptcy or a psychological defect? Are we really that much more free-thinking than we were, say, a century ago? I've certainly called a few people sluts and whores in my time (those of you who immediately assumed the people I'm referring to were women have only yourselves to blame for giving a gendered meaning to asexual words). But why do we do it? There certainly isn't one single reason but it's worth thinking about. So with an abrupt admonition to practice more introspection (as if any of us really needed a reminder to do that) I shall sign off. Au revoir mon amis.
Let me begin in the proper formulaic manner from a personal premise. My father (who aren't in heaven) was once arrested and sentenced to banishment from the island of his birth for impersonating popular orator (sympathy for the devil being the theme) and shameless political opportunist (so much for that), Ibrahim Shihab on audiotape. Such an incident might be as commonplace as fashion-challenged men in effeminate plaid-patterned pajama-pants in the Maldives of today but in the days of yore it was definitely worth a "hoo" and a "ha". A simple question comes to mind which, I'm pretty sure, only warrants an answer any respectable somnambulist can give in a state of REM. But are conventional answers really satisfactory? Why the difference? Why do some crimes go through such a radical redefinition? Is this change ethical? Inevitable? Is it right? Should we give a flying fuck?
Take murder for instance. Once a simple crime punishable by geographically, culturally and religiously variable means of retribution. The picture at present is a lot more complicated in Westphalic law which is slowly taking over the world. There's manslaughter, plain old homicide, justifiable homicide in self-defense etcetera etcetera. Now I'm going to hit anyone who's reading this post with my not-quite controversial perspective on the whole shebang (which incidentally is my favorite quote by Emily Deschanel on the tv show Bones. Marry me Emily!). I don't put much stock in psychology (Nadha is SO gonna hate me). Especially when it comes to law courts when juries can be so easily manipulated with paid testimonies from "proffessionals" and "experts". So I'm asking the question. Can murder be justified? Certainly not every murder is equally reprehensible but (there's a but) does the motive justify the means and the end? The very difficulty of establishing motive makes the whole thing even fuzzier for me.
Up next, there's a perennial argument I have with my small group of mostly neo-con friends. Are drugs really so evil? Should they all fall under blanket bans? A very good friend of mine, who ironically despises marijuana, thinks it should be legalized everywhere from his particular economic worldview (Hashim you money-mad Adam Smith, you). His position being that if real honest-to-goodness shops sold good quality weed then there would be less crime associated with the sale and use of it. I certainly agree. If regular cigarettes were outlawed I would be the first person to kill, steal and suck cock in order to get my fix.
Now out of the courts and into the streets. What's the foremost concern which is a universal constant for all of us beyond the age of 10? (Ten being an arbitrary number based on when I first ejaculated. I define the very concept of tell-all, no?) Not hard to guess what the answer I was expecting for my own question was. Sex. And one of the biggest complaints and criticisms centering around people's sex lives have to do with sexual promiscuity.
But what really is promiscuity? The word has a tidy little definition but it's unsupported by surveys or statistics. So we're all free, as we please, to use it to derogate people who just simply have more sex than we do (whether out of jealousy, contempt or disgust doesn't really concern me). Why is extreme promiscuity either called a criminal tendency stemming from moral bankruptcy or a psychological defect? Are we really that much more free-thinking than we were, say, a century ago? I've certainly called a few people sluts and whores in my time (those of you who immediately assumed the people I'm referring to were women have only yourselves to blame for giving a gendered meaning to asexual words). But why do we do it? There certainly isn't one single reason but it's worth thinking about. So with an abrupt admonition to practice more introspection (as if any of us really needed a reminder to do that) I shall sign off. Au revoir mon amis.
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