deadly infectious, obviously inspired from the 70s-style music, but well updated. the lyrics are a little confusing but it’s really well made overall. At least some people have the good sense to seek inspiration in GOOD MUSIC!
a more ‘traditional’ bollywood song, made awesome by the singers singing it and the SEAMLESS transitions between the 2 women singers(my two favourite singers in the bollywood playback industry).
Why then, must we face so many of them?
Apart from the fact that I am prone to the odd anxious moment when faced with mundane choices, i have never felt as anxious as this moment – facing an imminent end to the structured life of college and classes and curricula and the start of a new life filled with the chaos and uncertainty expected in an entrepreneurial venture. even though it’s in a field i love, and have trained for lo these 3 years, i guess i still have not reconciled myself to the fact that i am taking up a rather serious responsibility. Not to get too emu, but i will really miss the fun-filled and (more importantly) relatively irresponsible life i have led so far.
here’s hoping it all turns out well, and i am glad i have the family and friends i do to help me along the way :)
I just read this book, and it’s blowing my mind. It’s a very personal, existential, sad and honest look at the state of photography as it was in Barthes’ time. I think that it is still very relevant at a fundamental level to any photographer who aspires to the title of ‘Artist’. I will read it again and update here as to the exact reasons why.
now the power cuts last 3 hours a day. what;s more troubling is that the whole power grid in the state is 1-2Hz away from total disaster thanks to cityfolk like me and neighbours being greedy pigs.
Notwithstanding the existing demand of 4000 MW, the CPDCL is given a schedule to transmit only 2700 MW. Of this, about 1400 MW is consumed by the Greater Hyderabad region alone despite load shedding. This has forced us to take demand-side management measures,” says U.Vidyasagar, the Divisional Engineer at the Load Monitoring and Restriction Centre at the corporate office.
Rural areas are slapped with total blackouts, except for the 7-hour supply to agriculture. The city, with its needs grown multi-fold over the years, gobbles up much of the power that should go to districts. While the scheduled allocation for the city stands at 15 million units per day, the actual consumption even after load shedding hovers around 17 MU.
Any overdraft from the grid will result in plummeting frequency levels– a continuous threat for the CPDCL officials.
A minimum frequency of 48.5 hertz should be maintained to save the grid from collapse.
let me explain by chronicling the year 2008 in petty personal disasters in pretty much chronological order:
#1) my ipod loses half it’s functionality, necessitating a very expensive fix.
#2) my beloved ibook dies, leaving me disconnected from the world for quite a while
#3) my pocket is picked, on a bus taking away very little in cash, but a very special wallet and my driving license, college ID, and ATM card.
#4) and just today, my mobile phone popped out of my pocket unnoticed and is now missing, presumably forever because nobody returns things in this city.
#5) (hopefully) the ground opens up and swallows me.
some days you just dont see the reason to go on living.
How did this article get published in the NYTimes? Someone must still be asleep at their desk.
Why bother? That really is the big question facing us as individuals hoping to do something about climate change, and it’s not an easy one to answer. I don’t know about you, but for me the most upsetting moment in “An Inconvenient Truth” came long after Al Gore scared the hell out of me, constructing an utterly convincing case that the very survival of life on earth as we know it is threatened by climate change. No, the really dark moment came during the closing credits, when we are asked to . . . change our light bulbs. That’s when it got really depressing. The immense disproportion between the magnitude of the problem Gore had described and the puniness of what he was asking us to do about it was enough to sink your heart.
There is much much more in the article worth reading.
The story that Elvis stole his music from African Americans as told by, for example, my now-deceased, uber-leftie, America-hating, and otherwise wonderful aunt, turned rock-and-roll into a mostly white child miraculously born to a purely black family. It was a way of saying that cool and correct white people could love rock-and-roll—white music with roots in the South—but dodge the sense that they had any affinities with white southerners; they could imagine them as wholly other and hate them with ease, with a fervor and disdain that spilled over pretty easily to all blue-collar rural people, to the white American peasantry, basically. That hate had and has wide currency. Ask Dick.
The story that racism belongs to poor people in the South is a little too easy, though. Just as not everybody up here, geographically and economically, is on the right side of the line, so not everyone down there is on the wrong side. But the story allows middle-class people to hate poor people in general while claiming to be on the side of truth, justice, and everything else good.
I grew up surrounded by liberals and leftists who liked to play the idiot in fake southern accents, make jokes about white trash and trailer trash, and, like the Canadian enviros, made gagging noises whenever they heard Dolly Parton or anything like her. If Okies from Muskogee thought they were being mocked, they were right, in part. This mockery was particularly common during the 1970s and 1980s, but it has yet to evaporate altogether—after all, Dick, who judging by his typewriter was around then, wrote me only last summer. My aged mother continues to make liberal use of the term “redneck” to describe the people I grew up among (though they were just suburban conservatives), and last summer I met a twentysomething from New York at a Nevada campout who told me he too was raised to hate country music. He was happily learning to love it, but late, like me.
the levels of hysteria that are on show on the business news channels on TV regarding a relatively modest drop* in share prices over the past few months are getting ridiculous. to paraphrase a wise internet fish, it’s like no one has any medium term memory anymore.
that chart shows an approximate return of 33%. banks give a return on your mid-term deposits that are in the range of 9%.
if so-called ‘investors’ are not happy with a return of 33% for a year, there’s only one reason and that is pure unadulterated Greed. which is the primary reason that capitalism, in almost all shapes and forms, sucks like a black hole.
* the recent drop has been about 27-28%. however, this distaste should be quelled by long term graphs – check it out – 2yr graph here and even more emphatically with the 5yr figures here
similarly, one can have lots of fun with the ‘Nifty’ broad-based index as well
(Disclosure: Both my parents now work in Stock Market – related activities, and i’m really depressed about that)
ok, back from chennai, tired from lots of work(no one can sweet talk like grandmas) and making another trip for teh føtøgraphië.
so some links for you to mull over.
1) A grand don’t come for free from Lenin’s Tomb
2) Phony Obamania has bitten the dust
3) An interesting Goodbye to Commandante Castro
4) Obamania has bitten the Dust (Reprise)
5) Banksy Strikes again (and you can substitute Tesco for Wal-Mart as appropriate)
funnily enough, i am rather immune to memes but like quizzes. however i would like to jump on this particular memewagon, such as it is, thanks to the graciousness of our erstwhile cookie queen Jennifer. this is in no small part due to being on my 234th reading of Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency.
the rulz, such as they are(pay attention to this part, those about to be goosed)
• look up page 123 in the nearest book
• look for the fifth sentence
• then post the three sentences that follow that fifth sentence on page 123
“Exactly”, said Dirk, “bravo!”
“But what’s all that got to do with this… this Detective Agency?”
“Oh, that — well, some researchers were once conducting such an experiment, but when they opened up the box, the cat was neither alive nor dead but was in fact completely missing, and they called me in to investigate.”
(bonus!!! ending of above passage)
“I was able to deduce that nothing very dramatic had happened. The cat had merely got fed up with being repeatedly locked up in a box and occasionally gassed and had taken the first opportunity to hoof it through the window. It was for me the work of a moment to set a saucer of milk by the window and call ‘Bernice’ in an enticing voice — the cat’s name was Bernice, you understand —”
“Now wait a minute…” said Richard.
“— and the cat was soon restored. A simple enough matter, but it seemed to create quite an impression in certain circles, and soon one thing led to another, as they do, and it all culminated in the thriving career you see before you.”
More madness, and a compelling crime drama/mystery/thriller/sci-fi caper all rolled into one if you actually read the book. there are things in there that i did not believe could (or should) be done with, or to, the english language. of course it’s mostly for nerds, but that goes without saying.
Sub-goosification:
Goose
Goose
Goose/Plover(if he/she/it/avian/superintellectual’s done with l’affaire libertarian)
Goose Publica
Goose 5<< who wants to be it?
doop HQ 