Friday, November 14, 2008

"To be great is to be misunderstood."

He was always more than just a great cricketer to Calcutta. It was never about the elegance of those square cuts or the magnificence of those dances down the pitch. It was never about the cricket. Numerous adjectives have attempted to describe the city's love for its champion: unconditional, irrational, parochial. The reason, however, has been just one: pride. Pride over a local hero who transformed the city from one that loved the game to one that celebrated it.

A stroke played a flash too early brought this Prince to his end. Many saw it as inglorious. But he was never one for perfect endings. His was a story that will be remembered for its imperfections. For it was the imperfections that brought forth his struggle against his weaknesses. And he was a man of many weaknesses. But never a weak man.

Farewell, dear Prince. And thank you for the memories....

Friday, October 10, 2008

Wi-Kewl!

I have a friend. His name is Nikhil. I hate him immensely.

Mostly, because he keeps designing awesome websites which remind me of how I can't design awesome websites and that, I believe, is a blemish on my otherwise unchallenged radness. His latest creation is a micro-blogging website.....

Wikyl.com

It is, what you would call.... Awesome! It's also Twitter-compliant. So you can seamlessly (yes, I just said "seamlessly". I swear I'm not getting paid for this. Just doing it out of the goodness of my heart.) redirect your updates from there to your Twitter page. So, if you're into this blogging thing, that kids these days keep talking about, give it a visit.

The Wikyl chapter of this blog can be found on http://wikyl.com/worldpiece. Although, not as wholesome (or handsome) as this one, it should be home to more frequent updates.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Friday, August 15, 2008

Victory!!!

Season 5 of Entourage is reported to have a scene in which Johnny Drama suffers a meltdown on The View.

Fact: That is the best premise EVER!


Friday, August 8, 2008

"Them Haters... They Out There..."

P. Diddy has a video blog.

'Nuf said.

Now watch.



Diddy talks about "Bitchassness":



Diddy talks about politics:



Diddy talks about success (feat. Lil' Wayne):



Diddy talks nonsense:



As an exercise, I leave it to you to figure out the many ways in which those videos annoy you. But more than any of the others, this next one did me in....

Diddy talks about superheroes:



A number of obscenities come to mind. But I was always taught that if you have nothing nice to say about a retarded, talentless, ego-centric moron then you shouldn't say anything at all.

*Edit:
Also, just to clarify, let it be known that P.Diddy, despite his infinite wisdom, doesn't know squat about black superheroes. Case in point: Black Panther, Luke Cage, Green Lantern (John Stewart), Nick Fury (the Ultimate universe persona), Cyborg, Storm, Blade. Just to name a few.

Yeah, Diddy! That's right! Get your comic book facts right. Or a whackjob comic book nerd might just write about it on the Internet. And that cannot be too good for your street-cred.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

You know who can totally kick your ass?

////////



That guy.


I'm guessing everyone has watched The Dark Knight by now. If you haven't, you need to. Unless, of course, you're terrified of awesomeness.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Rest In Peace, Michael Turner

Just found out that Michael Turner is no longer among us. He has been an inspiration to comic book lovers everywhere and he will be missed...


Identity Crisis #1, artwork by Michael Turner

Sunday, July 6, 2008

A Bengali's rants about VTU.

Note: This fine piece of literature is best read with a thick Bengali accent.



Finally, today my exams ees feenish.
No more sleepless nights of pain and anguish.
But last 10 days ees teaching me lot about life.
Thees lesson I learn after all my strife:
Not stronger, faster, harder or fitter,
That which does not keel him, makes Bangali bitter.
After each exam, I am feeling my confidence fall.
Like Dada's wicket on short-peetched ball.
6 times they have make me feel their scorn.
6 times I am thought, "Ja Shaala! Thees one also gone."
Can they not give one simple paper, shaala?
VTU paper-setter, tera mooh kaala!
I am feeling like to kill, but Tagore's words coming to mind:
"An eye for an eye is making the world to go blind."
Then I am thought, thees words Tagore is not speaking.
But it's ok. For anything, Bangalis always credit taking.
But today I will celebrate, have Rosogolla and feesh.
Because today I am happy that my exams ees feenish.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

If I don't remind you, who will?

On May 17th, 1987, a catastrophic imbalance in the bad chi of the world set into motion a disastrous cycle that renews itself every 365 days.

21 years down the line, the horror continues...















Yes... It's my 21st birthday. Which means 2 things:

1. I can now legally espouse womenfolk above the age of 18.

2. I'm one year closer to being as cool as these guys:


Life is good.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Korbo, Lorbo, Jeetbo Re!

If you happened to miss the first IPL match, I hope your stay under the largest rock on the planet was worth it. But there's no need to sweat it if it wasn't. Because what you missed can be summarised, metaphorically, by this depiction of absolute carnage:



And also this:




The aggressors, in this case, were none other than the Kolkata Knight Riders.

Now, even though the Bangalore Royal Challengers are my co-favourites in the IPL, I decided to pull for my other co-favourites, the Knight Riders, for this match. This is where things started to go horribly wrong for the Royal Challengers. Because you may have all the hot American cheerleaders on your side, but nothing beats the advantage offered by my flagitious telepathy. Of course, McCullum's 158 n.o. of 73 balls didn't really hurt our cause either.

As much as it pained me to see the Royal Challengers get drubbed in such brutal fashion, the ecstasy of watching a public rogering of Dr(?).Vijay Mallya was just something else.

So, whatcha gonna do Dr.Mallya? Whatcha gonna do, when Rider-mania runs wild on YOU?

Monday, April 14, 2008

R. Kelly's Trapped In The Closet. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Very rarely, in life, do you come across works of art so captivating, that they compel you to get down on your knees and thank the Man Upstairs for blessing you with the privilege of being witness to such greatness.

I experienced one such surreal moment when I had the pleasure of watching R. Kelly's "Trapped In The Closet". For those of you who've been unfortunate enough to lead a life without knowledge of R. Kelly's "hip-hopera", your misfortune ends today.

"Trapped In The Closet" is a 22-part story-- nay, a 22-part epic that transcends all limits that mere mortals, such as us, have defined to understand musical genius. You truly need to watch it in order to fathom its brilliance.

Chapters 1-5:


To help you understand the sheer awesomeness of it all, here's an excerpt from chapter 4 of this masterpiece:

I kissed her and then we went to the room
Then I turned some music on
Apologized one more time
Then went down and start gettin it on
And she started bitin her lip
Grabbing me and makin noise
Now we makin love and she's my ear whisperin
It's all yours
I said I love you
And she said I love ya, too
Then a tear fell up out my eye
Then I called her my sunshine
And then she looked at me
And said baby go deeper please
And thats when I start goin crazy
Like I was tryin to give her a baby
The room feel like its spinnin
We keep turnin and turnin
As if we were in a whirlwind
The way our toes are curlin
The next thing ya know, she starts goin real wild
And starts screamin my name
Then I said baby, we must slow down
Before I bust a vessel in my brain
And she said please no don't stop
And I said I caught a cramp
And she said please keep on goin
I said my leg is about to crack
Then she cries out
Oh my goodness, I'm about to climax
And I said cool
Climax
Just let go of my leg
She says you're the perfect lover
I said I can't go no futher
Then I flip back the cover
Oh my God, a rubber...


The word, ladies and gentlemen, is LEGENDARY.

The narrator here is a character named Sylvester (played by R. Kelly). The events described in the above passage occur immediately after Sylvester accuses his wife, Gwendolyn, of infidelity. Gwendolyn manages to convince him otherwise and that's when they start "gettin it on". As is clear from the following lines, Sylvester knows how to satisfy his woman, despite a rather severe leg cramp and the imminent danger of "busting a vessel in his brain". My favourite part, however, is when his wife cries out, "Oh my goodness, I'm about to climax." To which he curtly replies, "Cool. Climax. Just let go of my leg." Now that, dear friends, is a real man. A selfless lover, who is in fact "cool" with his wife's orgasm and an assertive husband, who dictates exactly which parts of his anatomy are available to his wife for grasping. And after we've all been educated about Sylvester's proficiency in love making, R. Kelly throws in a twist that leaves all of us wondering what happens in chapter 5. Sylvester, much to the viewer's surprise, finds a used condom in his bed.

The flair in the execution of these tortuous plot-lines is a testament to R. Kelly's mastery in the art of storytelling.

R. Kelly. Please. Take a bow.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Bow before me, Grammar Nazis!

It has just come to my attention that the word 'its', when used as a possessive pronoun, isn't supposed to have an apostrophe. I'm not quite sure if any such grammatical transgressions have come to be on this blog but in case they have, let it be a lesson to all:

Sometimes, just sometimes, even I make mistakes.



And why do I choose to write about it merely hours before an effing internal?
Because I can.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Paul McCartney Dead?

First off, I'd like to take a moment and apologise for the long leave of absence.

I'd like to. But I won't. (Some wicked word-play, huh?)

Instead, I'll be the same ol' escapist that you guys have grown to love over the past few months and blame it on college and other boring aspects of my life. Some would say that's mighty arrogant of me. But when God has blessed you with the rare talents of being able to blow bubbles with spit and procure pimples around your nose, delusions of grandeur are somewhat justified. Wouldn't you say?

Wow. From self-importance to self-indignation in the same paragraph. I'm on fire.

Anyhoo... I'm back. Well, atleast for now. And I have some interesting reading lined up for y'all. Yesterday, an extremely random and pointless link following rampage led me to one of the most detailed conspiracy theory websites I've seen in a long time. I love conspiracy theories. Partly because they prove that you can come up with the most ludicrous conclusion and work backwards to find clues that vaguely point to it. But mostly, I find the theorists more interesting than the theories themselves. There's this unique dichotomy to them. It's like they're telling you, "Yeah. I can disprove logic.... With logic." It's one of those 'fight fire with fire' things that I don't quite get. Having said that, lemme also tell you that there are some conspiracy theories out there which sound just as convincing as the more commonly believed notions. The one I'm talking about is NOT one of them.

The website's called "Officially Pronounced Dead? The Great Beatle Death Conspiracy."

The back-story:
On Wednesday November 9th, 1966, The Beatles were in the studio working on an album that would go on to become the masterpiece that is 'Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band'. Paul McCartney left the studio with his bandmates a little before 5 am. On his way home, he offered a lift to a woman walking in the rain. Once the woman realised the person driving the car was Paul McCartney, she went ape-shit on his ass, which caused Paul to lose control and get into a fatal car accident. The accident caused the car to explode and left Paul decapitated.

Now, apparently, this wasn't enough to deter the spirits of the remaining Beatles, who decided to secretly replace Paul with a look-alike named William Campbell. But the guilt of duping their fans made them drop subtle hints about the conspiracy in their album covers, lyrics, etc.

The website is a collection of alleged "clues" discovered thus far. The home page implores you to- "Turn down the lights and pour yourself a glass of wine for you are about to explore one of the greatest rock and roll conspiracies of all time!"

Why the website demands behaviour befitting a hot date, is something that escapes me. But it, nevertheless, provides for reading recommended for all Beatles fans and pretty much anyone who has a few hours to kill. Enjoy.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go do some reading on why some people believe Akon, Sean Paul and Kumar Sanu are really the same person. Unbelievable, you say? Think again.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Of Colours and Skin Rashes...

Happy Holi, World.

May the festival of colours bring you happiness and bright cheer.
(Kinda not true, seeing as what it really brought you was a post that proves, to your great horror, that I am still alive.)










More filler posts to follow
.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Epiphany, Part 2.

When it's between CG and CN, the choice is never right.



CG: Computer Graphics.
CN: Computer Networks.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Epiphany

USP is not fun.



USP: Unix System Programming.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

"Life" rhymes with "bitch". Sorry. Not rhymes with. Is.

Well, John the Baptist after torturing a thief
Looks up at his hero the Commander-in-Chief
Saying, "Tell me great hero, but please make it brief
Is there a hole for me to get sick in?"

The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
Saying, "Death to all those who would whimper and cry"
And dropping a bar bell he points to the sky
Saying, "The sun's not yellow it's chicken"

Mama's in the fact'ry
She ain't got no shoes.
Daddy's in the alley
He's lookin' for food.
I'm in the kitchen
With the tombstone blues
-Bob Dylan (Tombstone Blues)

You guessed right. Internals around the corner. *Groan*

Friday, February 15, 2008

...because it's the funk that separates us from the animals.




This is why...


Once again, we learn that when it comes to astuteness, Charlie Brown is Boss.

Learn, Linus. Learn.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Alternate endings to the last Harry Potter book

Greetings, devoted readers. It's been too long.

So what have I been upto lately? Not blogging, that's for sure. But that can mostly be attributed to the long, not-so-awesome hours being spent in college these days. And since the sem has just begun, I urge you all to brace yourselves for several such periods of dormancy.

No! Stop! Don't reach for those knives just yet! Suicide is never the answer.

As mind-numbingly boring as college can be, it can sometimes act as a breeding ground for some great blogging ideas. Just the other day, a friend and I were discussing the final Harry Potter book in class. A one-off incident, really. Normally, in class, I indulge in much more masculine activities, like sleeping. Anyway, he brought up the ending and how everyone he knows really liked it. I, however, will risk getting lynched by a Potter-crazy mob and admit that I wasn't really impressed by the way J.K.Rowling decided to end things.

Personally, my favourite character was Lord Voldemort. He seemed like a badass and God knows how much I appreciate badass-ness. To have Voldemort killed by his own rebounded curse, in my opinion, is just a tad better than to see him succumb to a really bad case of food poisoning. So, I decided to put my super-power of blogging to good use and come up with some alternate endings which, had they been used in place of the actual confrontation between Harry and Voldemort, would've made the book a lot more enjoyable to me.

So, here they are:

1. Voldemort shuts Harry the hell up, once and for all, by roundhouse kicking him, Chuck Norris style. He then brings Dumbledore back to life only to kill him again with an equally devastating roundhouse kick.

2. Voldemort gets pissed off at Harry for always coming at him with an insultingly ineffective disarming spell and decides to show him how it's really done by blasting Harry's ass to smithereens using an earth-shattering Hadouken attack.

3. Harry decides to join forces with Voldemort. They seal the deal by performing the Fusion Dance and become Harry-mort: 50% Harry, 50% Voldemort and 100% awesome. They then kill anyone who doesn't think Dragonball Z is pure awesomeness. They also torture and kill Bellatrix Lestrange for being the most unnecessarily obnoxious character in the series.

4. If Voldemort's death was inevitable, then I would've liked to see him go in this fashion:
Voldemort and Harry have a nail-bitingly close duel in which Voldemort seems to have the edge before Hermione creeps up behind him and deals out a vicious low blow. Harry then finishes Voldemort off with a Stone-Cold Stunner, opens a can of beer and says, "Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!"

Keep in mind that all of the suggested endings are enjoyed most in the absence of the torturous epilogue. Anyone who procreates and names his son Albus Severus deserves to die a most painful death.

Also, please note: SPOILER ALERT.

You may now discuss.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Bring on the Crunk!

Today, dear friends, marks a landmark occasion in the short yet eventful history of "Ramblings of the Self-Important", because today I come to you live from the Taylor household. This past evening, Arshad Yaqub Taylor (most of you know him and if you don't, I pity your existence) played host to a supremely awesome B.Y.O.B. party.

The festivities began at around 7. The libations flowed, the music played and the Gods of inebriation smiled down upon us. As one of the few sober (read super-cool) people at pretty much every party, I normally keep myself occupied with a little game I like to call Talking-to-the-Drunk-People. Today, however, was different. Today, an extremely boisterous Nambi D. left us all thoroughly entertained (and also slightly disturbed) with his incessant discussions about faeces.

Don't ask.

Ever.

Also, during the party, my demigod status was affirmed when the following questions were put to me... "Akaash. How do you manage to stay so cool? What's the secret to your good looks? How do I become more like you?" To which I replied, "Well, Arshad, it's a gift. One that can only be obtained from hundreds of hours of comic-book reading."

It's 2 in the morning right now. Needless to say, everyone is pretty much OUT. Apart from me, Arshad is the only one awake, despite his efforts to wake the others up and get them to help him finish the alcohol.

Yep. Tonight was great and the history books might even refer to it as "bitchin'".

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Something Boring This Way Comes...

Today sucks. Not as much as it would've had Djokovic lost. But it still does. The reason?

College begins in a day.

Seriously, VTU. If you had a face, I would bitchslap it.

I would. I'd bitchslap your face. Ninja Style. Like so...

Sunday, January 20, 2008

A Day In My Life....


Yep. That's right. My life is off the hizzle!

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Shoot 'em Up! Badass or Totally Badass?

I watched Shoot 'em Up yesterday and if you were to ask me, "Akaash. Is Shoot 'em Up the most badass movie ever?" I would answer, "Yes!" right after I hand your ass a beat-down for doubting the movie.

It would be impossible to summarise the awesomeness of this work of art in a single blog post but just to give you an idea, let me try and do justice to the opening sequence.

The movie starts off with a gunfight in which a gunman, played by Clive Owen (who, I suspect, might just be God's representative for Badass-ness on Earth), takes on a whole bunch of henchmen, single-handedly, while helping a woman deliver a friggin' baby. Oh and did I mention, he actually kills one of the goons with a f*@#ing carrot.

And that's not even the highlight of the movie.

Other super-rad moments include:
- A gunfight in which Clive Owen owns a bunch of goons while making love to a hooker.
- A gunfight in which Clive Owen owns a bunch of goons in a firearms factory
- A gunfight in which Clive Owen owns a bunch of goons while free-falling from an airplane.
- A gunfight in which Clive Owen owns a bunch of goons by firing bullets without a gun (not kidding).
- This line:
Smith (Clive Owen): I'm a British nanny and I'm dangerous.

If that wasn't enough to convince you of the radness of this movie, then you are completely retarded.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Now Groove, Sucka!

For those of you who know Jacob Thomas Chacko (AKA Chacks), here's a download link (right click and choose "Save Target As") to an audio file that is exactly the kinda thing that the word "AWESOME" was invented to describe.

Kindly note that our friend, the reborn Sinatra, has no clue that this audio file has been leaked. Let's keep things that way till the next time we meet him.

Until then.... Jaya Nagaraj Tara...

You know what everyone likes? Monkeys....

I didn't quite have a real post lined up for the day.

Therefore, I decided to blow all your minds with pictures of..... wait for it..... Monkeys!!!

Behold!


Friendly Monkeys...


Creepy Monkeys...


Really Creepy Monkeys...


Arctic Monkeys...


Hand Puppet Monkeys...

You're minds have officially been blown.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

My name is Andrew Symonds. Please help me pull my head out of my ass.

We're about a day away from the Perth test match. Like all Indian cricket fans, I sincerely hope India can come back strong after being denied a draw in the Sydney test, by the umpires. Unacceptable as the decisions were on that fateful day, what angers me a lot more is the Australian cricket team's conduct after the match. And by the Australian cricket team, I mean Andrew Symonds.

If you've been a supporter of Mr.Symonds through the Bhajji-Symonds controversy, this post is not for you. This link, however, may be more to your liking.

In order to conform to the theme of this post, Mr.Symonds will be referred to as Mr.Numbnuts for the remainder of the post.


Now, racism, in any form, is a very serious issue. But Mr.Numbnuts' take on racial taunts from other players isn't just stupid, it's downright hilarious. According to Mr.Numbnuts, racial slurs towards him are alright when they come from his own teammates or from opposition players who he knows well.

So, if you're a friend of Mr.Numbnuts and happen to call him the 'M' word, there's absolutely no need to sweat it because Mr.Numbnuts likes you, inspite of the fact that you're a bigot. But, if you're someone like Bhajji, who has been tremendously fortunate not to run in the same circles as Mr.Numbnuts, then you had better watch out. Therefore, my advice to Bhajji would be that the next time he wants to call Mr.Numbnuts a "monkey", he should buy him a beer and get to know him before doing so.

I am in no way implying that Bhajji said the things that Mr.Numbnuts claims he did. But even if he did call Mr.Numbnuts a "monkey", I don't think he meant it as a racial slur. I think he just meant to call Mr.Numbnuts a dread-locked troglodyte who has an I.Q. and personality to match that of a primate.

Congratulations, Mr.Numbnuts. You just made the top spot on my shit-list. Just above Steve "Dipshit" Bucknor.

This blog is The Shiznit!

Just noticed that my blog has now crossed the 50 hits mark. It's quite late at night (do not trust the post-time info below the post... it lies) but even that won't stop me from dancing around in circles.

This momentous occasion tells me that you must really love me or really hate yourself to keep coming back for more. Either way, a big heartfelt THANK YOU goes out to everyone who's indulged in the self-inflicted torture that is tantamount to reading this blog.

Thanks to your support, my attempts towards the devastation of the World Wide Web continue...

Sunday, January 13, 2008

This ain't no filler-post, fool!

I think I can safely assume that anyone who's read this blog understands the importance I place on my journalistic integrity. Nothing would be worse to me than to appear derelict in my blogging duties.

Therefore, my devoted readers, this post is a consequence of the obligation that I feel towards you. It is now my sole purpose in life to come up with posts on a regular basis, no matter how inconsequential and/or irrelevant they may seem. It's a classic case of quantity over quality.

I guaran-damn-tee (Yeah. That's right. Hyphens AND Infixes) that you will see (or rather... read) more of me.

Friday, January 11, 2008

"Self-Important"... It says so right there in the header, so don't say I didn't warn you.

You may frown upon me now, for cluttering your favourite blog (hah!) with unnecessary posts such as this, but blogging, contrary to what I believed, can be difficult.

It seems to me that no blogger can have a blog without intermittent patches of inactivity which he/she ends with an apology-post in which he/she explains how the past few days have been the busiest of his/her life. But the real reason, however, is that people just run out of things to say.

But not me.

Since I can't even be sure of whether more than 2 people (and that's including myself) know of this blog, I don't think I owe an apology to anyone. On the off-chance that you do know about this blog and are still nice enough to check in regularly for updates.... I'm sorry...

And now, what you've all been waiting for (double hah!), a rundown of the week that was....

The Music: Re-discovering Coheed & Cambria's debut album, The Second Stage Turbine Blade.

The Movies: Finally caught I Am Legend (awesome), Taare Zameen Par (also awesome) and SuperBad (more like super-awesome).

The Anime: Getting my daily dose of Cowboy Bebop (for the 3rd time) and Fullmetal Alchemist (1st time). Totally bitchin'.

The Comics: Still haven't checked out last month's and this month's titles. Criminal... I know. But seriously, with the kind of stuff Gotham has been bringing out lately, the only thing I regret missing is Joss Whedon's run on Astonishing X-Men.

The Vacations: Have been awesome thus far. Only 16 days left... *sob*

The Chicks: They're all over me.

So there you go... A post that tells you exactly why I call this blog "Ramblings of the Self-Important".

Until next time... Sayonara.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Why So Serious?

Alright. So if you're anything like me (a truly dreadful prospect... I know), you probably can't wait for summer '08. The reason would be the much awaited release of the sequel to the 2005 blockbuster, Batman Begins.

For those of you who haven't yet checked it out, here's the official trailer to The Dark Knight...



Now, after watching that, most people won't really need me to tell them that that was freakin' awesome. But screw most people.... That was FREAKIN' AWESOME.

It's got Christian Bale playing Batman, Christopher Nolan directing and Heath Ledger giving the character of the Joker a twist that has comic book lovers everywhere flipping out (in a good way, of course.)

Add to the mix this mind-shatteringly badass arm-driven motorcycle and what you'll get is a movie that just could not get any better.






Wait. What's that?

They're coming up with an anime prequel to the movie?

Holy Cow!!!

Um, yeah. I'd say the movie just got a whole lot better.

Here comes the PAIN!!!!

Yes, it's true.... God really does love you that much!

What else could possibly explain the existence of this super-awesome blog?

Now I know that at first look your thoughts might be along the lines of "This is such a bad idea." But that's what we all said when we first heard news about Britney Spears procreating and look how much entertainment that's provided us with.

Your criticism is welcome (so long as you refer to the contents of the blog as "The Shit")....

I look forward to the one-sided dialogue...