Spell Bound... and Fascinated

I'm quoting The Guardian (big surprise, hah!) yet again.

'The highest score that it is theoretically possible to achieve in a single turn in Scrabble is for the word "oxyphenbutazone". Even at the top levels of tournament Scrabble, this has never actually happened: it would require the game to have unfolded in exactly the right way up to that point, leaving exactly the right open spaces, and the right combination of letters in the bag. But if it did, it would span three triple-word scores, creating seven other new words on the board, for a total of at least 1,778, depending on which official word list you used. The closest anyone has come in real life was a now deceased Kurdish player, Dr Karl Khoshnaw, who got 392 points for "caziques" at a contest in Manchester in 1982. (Oxyphenbutazone, in case you're wondering, is a chemical compound used to treat arthritis; caziques were ancient Peruvian and Mexican princes. But if you had a Scrabble champion's mind-set, you wouldn't waste brain-space on what words mean: that's not the point.)'

This is from an article on Scrabble, my favourtiest game of all time and what it has to say had me absolutely riveted for the few minutes I spent perusing it. It's by far one of the best examples of writing I've seen — informative, well laid-out, well-written and very enjoyable.

What do you know about your favourite game?

Tag Five!*

“The rules of the game get posted at the beginning. Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.”

(1) What were you doing 5 years ago?

I had just started my second year of undergrad college after having the best summer of my life since the time when my favourite cousins used to come down. I was also about to take up my very first job.

(2) What are 5 things on your to-do list for today?

It's bed-time and I've pretty much done everything I wanted to do in my day, and more. I'm going to read Inconceivable for a bit before I sleep.

(3) What are 5 snacks you enjoy?

Potato chips/crisps, almost all veggie flavours
Misal/chaat
Papad/farsaan
cake/pastry
cookies/biscuits

(4) What are five things you would do if you were a billionaire?

Build a huge library and buy tons of books
Establish a publishing company
Help people in distress
Travel
Construct a lovely house and fill it with nice things

(5) What are five jobs you’ve had?

Intern reporter/editor
Content maintainer for website
Editorial co-ordinator/Publications Assistant
Production Assistant
Leaflet distributor for a day

I tag:

Sree
Always Happy Kya
Phoenix
Mahima
Pav Pav

* Like The Todd, from Scrubs, would say

The Best Thing About Truth...

... is that it's re-useable.

What is Fitting Justice Against Rape?

I happened to read a review of 'Teeth' in The Guardian earlier today (Let's not go into why I'm forever quoting the Guardian. At least, not in this post). The reviewer termed the movie a 'rape-revenge' theme one and while that was intriguing enough, and the article contained a few insights which took me by surprise, it was the last few lines which really hit home — hard.

"It's possible to give all these films a feminist reading. In Teeth and Thelma and Louise there is definite wish-fulfilment for female audiences in seeing brutality addressed in direct and often inventive ways. But in every case, there is a bleakness that ultimately undermines any other message. Cumulatively, they induce a sense of fear - the sense that the footsteps behind you are growing louder - and a recognition that, while harassment proliferates, justice does not. This may be realistic, but there's an inadvertent misogynist message, one that encourages women to feel unsafe, to stay at home."

How ironic is that? They talk about justice apropos rape and they still do not manage to sound supportive of victims. I'm rather taken aback that anything that speaks up against rape could ever be classified as 'feminist' but I'll let that slide for now. What has me bothered more is the obvious effect that these movies are having, the kind of message they are sending out. I'm not entirely sure if anything associated with rape could end on a positive note — 'positive note' is a rather cloudy concept here — but is there actually an alternative to the further helplessness and hopelessness that these movies and reports etc induce, with their content?

I once read a book titled Retribution. It detailed the story of a woman who is stalked and brutaly raped hours before her bar exam, loses faith in everything, moves to a new state and tries to rebuild her life, only, she is no longer the bold and brave young woman she was. Her boyfriend has left her, having tacitly blamed her for what happened and she believes him too. Years later, she has to face her rapist in connection to a different case and despite her extraordinary change in appearance he recognises her and, ignoring the legal complications this brings about, the rest f the sotry centres around what she chooses to do. Fight the case and knowing he is innocent of the charges he's been convicted of at present, let it go, or exact retribution by having him convicted?

The book did not impress me. While the scenes it described were horrifying enough, what threw me was the ending (no don't bother, it's not worth it). Retribution? Is that all the end there is to having been raped? Is that all the justice you get? And even then, your actions of vengeance (see? there doesn't even exist a WORD for this!) are not considered completely condonable. The enormity of this crime is ignored even more enormously. Show me ONE country/state/region where the laws are stringent against rape. What about it seems so trifling?

Women are the largest minority in the world. Minorities are forever being discriminated against. But history has proven that justice is served in the end. Except in this one case. Is there ever going to be an end to this? How will it end?

When will it stop? When will we see the day when shame is not the first reaction to rape? When will the 'entertainment media' wake up and quit showing rape scenes with the excuse of "It happens in real life, we're only trying to be real". What are you trying to prove by it anyway? There's no benefit to be had from it... none whatsoever. How about spending the same resources in helping to raise some constructive awareness instead, trying to sway the tide of change and attitude, not promoting more bleakness? And no, "She was asking for it dressed like that" and "Maybe she enjoys it" are not an answer. This attitude towards rape is a widely social and yet deeply personal responsibility. How about doing your bit? If it's profits you're worrying about, please the largest minority and your profits will be rolling in... we don't hold sway over the majority for nothing.

I'm Wondering...

God, please explain to me again, what was your point when you created idiots and losers?

Conversations

Girl: (Pointing to her eyes) Do you like this?

Boy: (slightly puzzled) What?!

Girl: Mascara!!!

Boy: I can't see it

Girl: Oh that's because it's transparent

*****

Boy: Would you stop looking at that guy??!!!

Girl: But I wasn't looking at him!!! (slight pause) I was looking at THAT one!

Let's Get This Straight

I recently discovered that 1/3rd of my office is gay. In my position, most of my real-life acquaintances would blanche at such a thing. And I know this to be a fact. Me? I consider it positively wonderful (don't read too much into this, we're not discussing me, we won't ever). It's much like being granted a chance to interact with Pakistanis first-hand on coming to London. Why? Because I forever wondered what they are like in person, when you ignore all the political and historical hoo-haa surrounding them. Wonder why else? Because the answer in both cases is: It doesn't matter.

My less-gay-friendly veering-towards-homphobic friends and acquaintances forever have me wondering why they'd choose to react/behave in this manner. Please note, choose. My friend D simply said 'It's unnatural' when I asked her about reasons for homophobia. Perhaps she means it seems unnatural simply because it's never been something that's been openly discussed. It's existed for ages to be sure. Historically, a whole lot of the nawabs in India were given to homosexuality. 'Nawabi Pesha' is how it is often described. And if you've read Lihaf by Ismat Chugtai, you'd know it wasn't only the men doing it. It is therefore, a matter of never having been deemed fit for public knowledge.

Personally, I think homophobia has its roots in 'the fear of the unknown'. The unknown being not the sexual preferences of such individuals or the 'normalcy' of such a thing, but the lack of a (for the lack of a better word) guideline to behaving with people whom we perceive to be different. Awkwardness and cluelessness, I feel, are the basis of homophobia. It's much like dealing with someone who is missing a limb, or their hearing, or eyesight.. or perhaps, mental capacity. (I'm not implying that homosexuals are missing something vital... merely comparing behaviour towards those incapacitated and towards homosexuals.) Because one simply doesn't come across them everyday, one is left fumbling for words, feeling awward, committing more gaffes than usual in trying to combat the situation.

In the words of Lionel Shriver, we depend upon our inbuilt emotional mechanism to help us react according to the norm in a given situation. We assume it is there. Only when faced with the absence of this do we stumble and fearing this unknown, do we give in to responses that are out-of-character and not commonplace.

I've heard a lot of 'I hate gays' 'Ughh!' 'Oh my god, I really wouldn't want to be around them' kind of responses. All the time, my only reaction is 'These people don't know what they're talking about'. Not one could give a sensible reason as to why they might dislike someone who's homosexual. To me, such reaction is akin to saying 'I dislike curly-haired people' or 'I dislike journalists because they think too highly of themselves'... or any such genereralisation. It's simply pointless.

Besides, what exactly is there to fear from someone who's gay? You think they're going to hit on you? For starters, you're probably not even their type so hitting on you mayen't even have crossed their mind. Instead of recoiling at that, maybe you ought stop and think for a minute that you're lucky to be considered attractive and potential-partner material by both sexes. That only ups your attractiveness quotient... although if you're homophobic, then divide that by 2 because it's such an obvious turn-off. Unless you have a valid reason for being homophobic, speak up... or hold your silence forever.

Also, another individual's sexual preferences are honestly nobody's business... unless said individual happens to be your partner. Sex-lives of other people are not up for discussion and they damn-well do not need to be judged. Judging someone's personal life is a big no-no in any part of the world, in any aspect of life. Also, in this case, it leads to discrimination. Do you know where discrimination stands? Right beside sexism, racism, nepotism, the quota system... so on and so forth. So unless you want to be classed among these, don't enter the area. I don't buy discrimination... in any form.

The Do(o)rk Case

Sunday morning, wake up just in time to e ready for violin class.

Check email: check
Check favourite blogs: half-check
Chart route to class: check
Shower and dress, deciding what to wear in 5 minutes flat: check
Wallet, keys, cellphone in new bag: check
Glasses: pause... and check

Lights off, out of room, room locked... pad downstairs and head to main door. Twist knob and pull door. No result. Oh well. Fish out key, insert into lock and jiggle. No result still. Bring on slightly puzzled look on face and try jiggling lock again. No go. Look at watch, panic and frantically start jiggling lock... when it still doesn't give, go to kitchen and bring out knives of different sizes to try and out whatever is blocking the dammned door. Try for another ten minutes and then give up, fuming because you've missed class, are feeling stupid and angry... and troop upstairs to room fairly seething. Send SOS messages and curse friends who try to make light of the event. Sit resignedly.

Say hello to landlady when she comes down and tell her of the door's troubles. Fetch keys and have her try again.... and have the door open. Go back to kitchen, annoyed and feeling even more foolish and confess missing class. Come up and cancel SOS.

The end. Case closed

Watch Out!!! It's Innovating!!!!

I'm having to do this yet again... there are SUCH geniuses out there that is seems only fair to give them their due limelight. Presenting*, the review of Aaron Rayburn's The Shadow God reviewed by Charles Moore. Mr. Moore, you are AWESOME!

"Trapped under a beam with the countdown ticking away, the monster just on the other side of the battered door, and my friends are trying to free me, I look up at them and yell, "Go on without me. I'll be alright. I'll hold him off while you escape!" And my friends, because they know my sacrifice won't be in vain, make their getaway and when the monster breaks through just as the explosives go off, I know I died saving the lives of my dearest friends."

That pretty much sums up my experience reading Aaron Rayburn's novel, THE SHADOW GOD. I took one for the team, so the rest of you would NEVER have to be subjected to this beast. I beg you, don't let my selflessness be for nothing. Heed my warning. This is the worst book ever written. The back cover copy reads "Craig Johnson had two best friends, two caring parents, a hot girlfriend, and a nice truck--not bad for a twenty-year-old." Already we're in trouble. The author photo shows Rayburn in all his mid-20s virginal glory. Manson contacts, a black cap turned backwards with a red 666 monogrammed on it, he's posing next to what looks like a rubber demon. His bio includes the line "He also says that he owes a great deal of gratitude to the Devil . . . for filling his mind with such horrific images." If this book is the most horrific thing the devil can come up, I think humanity is safe from the threat of hell.

There are so many things wrong with this book, I decided to keep notes so I could present them in an orderly fashion, with quotes to back me up. I don't want you to take my word for this novel's horridness, I'm going to let Rayburn speak for himself. We'll start with the plot. Craig Johnson was cursed at birth when his parents left the town church led by the possibly-evil Father Spiers. Spiers then tricked Craig's father Matt into strangling him, only in the end, Matt had killed, not Father Spiers, but one of the doctors. So Matt's been in jail Craig's entire life. Shortly after Craig's 20th birthday he begins to notice a blue light emanating from his bedroom closet. He calls for his mommy (I'm not making that up, it's on page 14), but she doesn't see any light, so he plays it off like he'd seen a rat, and asks her to check in his closet. After she leaves, Craig is compelled to enter the light, which takes him to the Dark World, which is sometimes like a vast black void, paved of course cuz you have to have something to walk on in a void, and sometimes is like Craig's own neighborhood, complete with the houses of his friends. Those friends, Todd and Mark, are also pulled into the Dark World, but they make their escape and then begins the action as the three try to solve the mystery of the blue light and the dark world.

To sum up--this book is 454 pages, okay?--Craig is the reincarnation of Abel, the Shadow God is Cain, and Father Spiers is Cain's acolyte, sent to prepare for his return to the real world. In the midst of all this Mark is killed and resurrected by Ridley, a club owner/satanist (he runs The Satanist Group Association. Again, I wish I was making this up!) and servant to Spiers and the Shadow God. Craig's girlfriend, his mother, his father, as well as Mark's sister Margie and Todd's parents, are all killed and the cops think Craig did it. One cop does, anyway, Detective Jim Underwood, son of the doctor Craig's father Matt strangled to death 20 years earlier. DUN-DUN-DUN!!! There's a showdown where Craig is sucked into another portal to face Cain, who then becomes a dragon, and Todd jumps in to help his friend, they all die--except Craig--and we live happily ever after.

Okay, I know it doesn't seem THAT bad from the plot. But I haven't begun quoting yet. Mark Twain said, "The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug." Rayburn wasn't even close.

"Spiers's eyes popped extraneously from their sockets, as his face turned from a deep red to a sickly purple."

"Extraneous" means "irrelevant." I don't think that's what he meant. At least, I hope not. Here's my favorite: "The lamp's glow was very weak compared to the blue glow emancipating from the basement."

Emanating, Rayburn, EMANATING. When will people learn never to trust their SpellCheck without verifying it's the word they meant??? There are, in total, 11 instances of Rayburn using the wrong word, and believe me, each one is funnier than the last. Okay, one more.

"It infiltrated his lungs, filling them with a kind of innovativeness he had never felt before."

To be honest, I don't know what word he meant, but I keep seeing Craig's lung filing patents for a dozen new inventions, getting promotions for discovering an even newer formula for Tide laundry detergent, or finding the cure for cancer. Then there are the characters. Craig and his buddies are all 20, they're in college, and they have cars and money. Craig bribes the guard with hundred dollar bills when he's trying to get in to see his father in prison. Yet never in the entire book do these men go to class, nor to a job. Where did Craig get his "nice truck"? His mother works "odd jobs", so I doubt she co-signed the loan. And the dialogue. Oh dear, the dialogue. "That's probably the fiercest dragon known to man," Craig tells Todd toward the end. Because, you know, we have so many different kinds of dragons in the world with which to compare. Okay, so he uses the wrong word and his characters are morons. You can overlook a misused word here and LOTS of writers are horrible with characters. Hell, I'm guilty of this myself. But sometimes he just plain gets his facts WRONG:

"The stranger was beastly in size with thick, bushy eyebrows, a prominent protruding forehead, and a thick, black coarse beard. His gait was that of a mammal--a Neanderthal."

I know I never went to college, but um . . . do you think Rayburn knows HUMAN BEINGS are mammals as well? And later we learn that Cain and Abel were Neanderthals who lived in the stone age, feared dinosaurs, and that Cain was kicked out of the Garden of Eden for slaying his brother. Dude, Cain and Abel weren't born until a LONG time after Adam and Eve--the only two people who ever lived in the Garden of Eden--were kicked out. And not only is this the worst book ever written, it's also the worst-written book ever. Behold:

"Of all the things to think, he never thought he'd think that."

And: "Already, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it. In fact, he KNEW he wouldn't." ???

Wasn't that already established in the previous sentence? "Eubanks looked annoyed. He exhaled annoyingly and said..." You know what? I could do this all night. THE SHADOW GOD is the perfect example of everything that's wrong with publishing in today's world. Anyone with the notion--talent or not--can write a "book", then contact a place like AuthorHouse ("publisher" of this fine volume and, I'm sure, Rayburn's second novel which I don't care enough to look up the title to), and unleash this mess on an unsuspecting world. And then we wonder why no one reads anymore. Why should they? If this is the kind of stuff they're being subjected to. Used to be a writer had to learn to WRITE before they could get published. Now, all you need is a couple thousand dollars and you got yourself a book. Talent? Who needs it? Skill? What for? Learning to write? Are you kidding me? Forget about it, I've got this here manyooscript and an address I can get it printed, I'mma be one of dem novelists. Riches, here I comes!!! It's enough to make aspiring writers want to give up seeking legitimate publishing venues. Please don't. Just be sure to write better than this guy. God knows it won't be difficult. Or should I say, God knows it won't be deficit.

*Thanks, again, to Boss for this piece of lunch-time hilarity. Now you know what makes working here such a lark!

Making a Cake of It

Ever heard of a single item of food inspiring a whole new legislation??? Wonders will never cease, reality is stranger than fiction and all that... presenting one among the many outlandish things that Britian is home to.

Turns out, McVities, foremost among the makers of Jaffa Cakes, wanted to escape paying VAT for their precious produce. Now, the law in the UK says that cakes and biscuits do not get charged VAT, but chocolate-covered biscuits incur VAT. So, the good folks at HM Customs and Excise stormed to court demanding that VAT be paid on Jaffa Cakes since they're chocolate-covered, orange-jam-centered, sponge-based gooey goodies very much the shape and size of biscuits.

Not really wanting to shell out a few extra million when they could well avoid it, McVities rolled up their baker's sleeves and set to work showing the Customs and Excise guys who was the boss of the bakery here.

Among other things, they managed to bake a giant jaffa cake and presented it, saying how the others were simply mini versions of the same. Also using their higher powers of scientific reasoning, they proved that it was indeed cakes they were talking about and not biscuits, because, cakes go hard when stale, like Jaffa cakes do and not soft like biscuits do. And what do you know???!! Viola!! McVities neatly pulled in their millions back from under the noses of the Customs and Excise. *

And they all lived happily ever after because there were more than enough Jaffa Cakes for everyone, including the Customs and Excise people.

Honest to god, have you ever heard anything equal to this???

* Thanks to the Boss for narrating this tid-bit and to Wikipedia for sorting the facts out.

H(y)ulk H(y)ulk!!!

I don't normally do this, but as my boss said, the write-up totally justified the making of such an awful movie. And so am posting the Guardian's review of The Hulk here.

The Incredible Hulk (Cert 12A)
Peter Bradshaw
Friday June 13, 2008 The Guardian
'Critic exit cinema miffed' ... The Incredible Hulk

"Hulk. Smash!" Yes. Hulk. Smash. Yes. Smash. Big Hulk smash. Smash cars. Buildings. Army tanks. Hulk not just smash. Hulk also go rarrr! Then smash again. Smash important, obviously. Smash Hulk's USP. What Hulk smash most? Hulk smash all hope of interesting time in cinema. Hulk take all effort of cinema, effort getting babysitter, effort finding parking, and Hulk put great green fist right through it. Hulk crush all hopes of entertainment. Hulk in boring film. Film co-written by star. Edward Norton. Norton in it. Norton write it. Norton not need gamma-radiation poisoning to get big head. Thing is: Hulk head weirdly small. Compared with rest of big green body.

Hulk not scary. Hulk look like Shrek. Wait. Critic have ... second thought. Hulk look like Shrek when Shrek turn handsome, in Shrek 2. Like Gordon Brown. Hulk rubbish. Hulk not look powerful. Especially when Hulk do jumpy bouncy floaty thing. Over New York buildings. Then Hulk look wussy. Big. Yet wussy. Not good combination.
Stan Lee have big cameo. Stan Lee keen on self. Previously Stan Lee just glimpsed. Now Stan in it for 30 seconds. Or more. Stan clearly on roll. Stan even give Robert Downey Jr cameo. As Iron Man. This very irritating. Audience supposed to be excited. Audience nod off. Long ago.
Idea is. Dr Bruce Banner - on run. Keep anger under control. Banner hope not turn into Hulk. Banner live .... in Brazilian slum. Work in factory. Total babe there fancy Banner. Banner quite fancy babe. But Banner not make move. Babe in film to keep guys interested. Until Banner's girlfriend Liv Tyler come into action later. Tyler not mind Hulk thing. Hulk remind her of dad. Steven Tyler. Possibly. Much location work. Overhead shots. Of slums. City of God vibe intended. But this rubbish. Like everything else.
Tim Roth come on. As evil soldier. Fighting Hulk personal for him. Roth typical evil Brit. Roth supposedly working for US army. Yet Roth Brit. Critic annoyed by stereotyping. Roth get injected with serum. Become Hulky supervillain. Smash cars. Tanks. Only with no trousers. Roth groin area ambiguous. Groin area look lumpy. Bumpy. Perhaps odd penis. Perhaps odd trousers. Critic ... not sure.
Same old story. Superhero movie give superhero mirror-image antagonist. Like in Spider-Man 3. Idea rubbish in Spider-Man 3. Idea rubbish here. Hulk versus humanity important thing. Cancelled out here. Basic problem ... critic not believe Hulk angry. Hulk just roar. It not look convincing. Not truly seem angry. Critic think about this. Critic decide why. It because Hulk not swear. Hulk just say: "Hulk. Smash" etc. If Hulk shout C-word ... different matter. Then Hulk look angry. Sound angry. Not here. Hulk genteel.
Critic remember Ang Lee version. Ang Lee version slagged off. Yet rubbish new Hulk film make that look like Citizen Kane. Critic exit cinema miffed. Film take away two hours of critic's life. Critic not get time back. Ever. Rarrrrr.

Read the original.

Calling My Skeletons to Attendance

So, Silvara tagged me to reveal my 'deep and dark secrets' as she termed them. Ten of them anyway... here we go:

1. I'm really really finicky about books. I hate lending them to begin with, but if I do at all, then heaven save the soul who borrows one and returns it in less than acceptable condition. Because all my books are always in the same condition as I got them. To quote my friend K, people have to read my borrowed books while wearing a gas mask and gloves, turning the pages with a pair of tongs. I guess it's somehow fitting that I starred in a play called 'Justice for Books' when I was in school. :P
2. I have recurring dreams of being stalked and then having something horrible done to.
3. That results in me sleeping in a very awkward position, usually curled up tight. If not, on my tummy with my hands tucked tightly under me, fists clutched tight.
4. I constantly feel like am from a different planet because it's very normal for me to not get the nuances of conversation when among people. I'm very confused as to how to interpret phrases and glances which other people seem to get in an instant and this always leaves me feeling like a loner in any crowd... it also makes me squirm in discomfort because I must always make an extra effort to get along or blend in.
5. I don't like revealing things about myself.
6. I'm inordinately proud of my handwriting.
7. I'm also inordinately proud of my ability to pick up complicated words almost instantly and believe I have inbuilt word intuition... I can almost always figure what any word means, given its context.
8. I have unnaturally high, exacting standards but only when it comes to my own performance. It leads to things like wanting better grades than I know I can achieve, trying to finish projects in lesser time than they actually require... and also never posting anything that I feel is not contributing to read-worthy literature.
9. Being scrutinised or looked at irks me... even apparaising looks irritate me if they last too long.
10. I adore ice-skating and cycling.

Right... am done. I'm going to tag:

Zephyr
Impulsively Me
Arunima
Romi
Divinity
Winger
Medha
Aditya
Mahima

D-me(a)nted

My best pal D here has awesome comic timing.

Me: What do you do with people who forget your existence for one whole year and then come complaining that they're not being kept informed ??!!!

D: :P say you've a baby.

My boss, who has a wonderful sense of humour himself, just asked me if I was actually planning to follow through with this, when told of this conversation. How am I not funny when I'm surrounded by such quirky people??!!

A Few Thousand Words...