Matt: Will you brush my hair for a few minutes?

Me: Sure. Just go grab my brush.

Matt: Okay, but just don’t… you know… brush it out of its style.

—

Also, out of the two of us, guess who was the one who insisted on seeing New Moon in theaters. That’s right.

http://neotericart.com/2009/11/21/interview-with-kathryn-arnold/

An interview I gave for neotericart has been published; I hope you enjoy and it creates understanding about my artwork.

’sam this video is really offensive.’

‘no you don’t get it! they’ve super-imposed a reference of the hip-hop gangster culture onto the organised violence of fascism, both referencing back to an ironically shared gun culture despite completely anti-thetical ideologies. it’s really a conflation of two entirely different …. yeah it is really offensive.’

6 years of training, all for this

Talking with your friends. Chatting on the phone. Instant messaging people you barely know. Meeting someone for the first time. Knowing how to keep up a conversation is a huge skill that you need to know in life, and if you can’t keep up a conversation, well then people will think you don’t want to talk to them. It’s just how life works. I talk a lot, and talking is one of my favorite things to do. If you can’t tell, I talk a little too much sometimes. But I must say I can keep a conversation going if I feel like it, which is all that matters. And trust me, I really can keep conversations going from ages ago. Such as my emails between cal-boy and I. Those go far back. From July 19 to be exact. Four days after summer camp ended. I miss those times a lot. But that’s pretty good, to be keeping up a conversation since then. Of course, I give credit when credit is deserved. Cal-boy has done probably the best job keeping up the conversation. Better than any guy I know would. Our emails back and fourth used to be about a sentence to three sentences long. Now they are like 10-12 sentences long. I think. No wait, more like 10-12 lines. That’s more like it.

“I just saw your twin gay brother.”

“What? Where?”

“Purr. Oh my god your twin brother in riding boots.”

“Is he hot?”

“Soooooooooo preeeeeeetttttyyyy.”

“Just look at the lights…”

What you about to see is the collection of nerd DJs living on the Earth. This can be a shocking experience, but they even manage to do some gigs from time to time… or they don’t? Who knows… Anyway, what we have here is a nice collection of “nerd dj related” images which were found all over the internet.

Read more
http://dj-case.com/nerd-djs/

Conversation 1

I was on a train in Brighton, waiting for it to leave for London Victoria. I was looking through my RSS feeds on my iPhone as I noticed a man sit down on the seats on the other side of the aisle from me.

Man: What’s the time?
Gary: It’s a quarter to.
(Pause)
Man: When does the train leave?
Gary: At 7.49 pm.

As I’d exchanged a few bits of information with the man, I had noticed that he was not wearing any socks and was bare-footed. I thought this to be slightly unusual, considering it was a cold, rainy November evening. He started muttering something about finding socks, and I feared that he would ask me if I had any spare ones (which, very strangely enough, I would have had). Thankfully he managed to find a pair and proceeded to put them on.

Man: So why are you going to London?
Gary: I live in London – I’m going home.
Man: You don’t sound like you’re from London.
(I wanted to ask him where I sounded like I was from, expecting him to say Hull, Newcastle or some other unlikely place)
Gary: I’m Finnish.
(Pause)
Man: Why do you speak English so well?
Gary: I learnt it at a very young age – I would be quite stuck if I only spoke Finnish.

The man nodded and looked puzzled. At that point I fixed my eyes on my iPhone and continued reading the blog entries I had been reading earlier. The man starts muttering to himself and mentions being in possession of two condoms and some lubricant. I would like to think that I can usually control my reactions, but I admit that I raised my eyebrows at this point.

Man: I hope you weren’t offended!
Gary: No, no, it’s alright.

I fixed my gaze even more intently on my phone, and the man left within a couple of minutes.

Conversation 2

Arriving at Victoria station, I had realised that I would need to buy something for dinner, so I proceeded to go to the Marks & Spencers at the station. I picked up some food and queued up. As I went to the till, I was served by a man who was a few years younger than I was, and sounded vaguely American. To make the story make sense, I was carrying a tote bag I had received at the annual American Civil Liberties Union conference a couple of years ago. The bag had the name of the conference on it as well as a picture of the Statue of Liberty.

Man: How are you doing?
Gary: I’m fine; how are you?
Man: [inaudible] just come back from New York
Gary: Oh, did you?
Man: No, did you?
Gary: No, no! What makes you say that?
Man: Your bag.
Gary: Oh, right. I got it at an ACLU conference I attended in Washington, DC, a few years ago.
Man: Okay.
(The man scans my item)
Man: Why carry it then?
Gary: It’s just my tote bag – I tend to carry it at weekends.
Man: Oh.

An exchange of money and goods followed, and, for some reason, the man seemed genuinely miffed. I thanked him and went off home.

So lately Ryan has been saying “Oh my God!” alot.  I’m not sure where this came from because I don’t think Jim nor I say it (I’ve been paying extra attention over the last few days).  But Ryan has picked it up from somewhere and uses this statement a lot lately.

Jim and I always correct him and say “Ryan, we don’t say that.  We say Oh My Goodness! instead.” And then Ryan will repeat and say “Oh my goodness!”

Well now, Ryan definitely knows that he’s not supposed to say that so the conversation now goes like this:

Ryan:  “Oh my goodness!  See daddy!  I no say Oh my God.  I say Oh my goodness.  See, I good.”
Daddy:  “Well Ryan, you said it though.  We don’t even say that just to say we didn’t say it.”
Ryan:  “But I didn’t daddy.  I DIDN’T say oh my God.  I say oh my goodness.  Not oh my God.”

Aaaaahhhh…. reasoning with an almost 3 year old.  It’s so fun.

Actual product may differ. See store for details.

soroboruo: Earlier in the month, apocalex and I came about making a friendly wager. We bet against each other on the appearance of a ping/latency counter in the PC version of Modern Warfare 2.

apocalex bet that the PC version would lack any numerical values for the ping/latency and would instead be represented by the simplified/console-ized version: 4 green bars. Modern Warfare 2 on the PC does not have any visible non-bar latency measurement, and you can’t even opt for the numerical millisecond measurements. Of course, being on the PC, people were hard at work finding ways to break enhance the game and have come up with a slightly less vague workaround. With a few modifications to a .ini file here and there, you can have 10 bars instead of the crappy 4, and now each bar represents 20ms ping. That, ladies and gents, will give you something like this:

I wonder who's the host.

I realize the picture is kind of small, but as you can see, ONE person has a full 10 green bars, and no one comes close. I think the most anyone else has is 3 bars, which if you calculate it means that person has a 140ms ping to the host, while the other 8 people have at least 180ms ping. In a game where latency can change the multiplayer experience greatly, this is just absolutely horrible. <sarcasm> How will you ever camp, now that you can’t even hit them when they’re right in front  of you? </sarcasm>

Anyways, I owe apocalex a box of curry mix.

A very good friend of mine suggested to dine out around the Deccan area and we somehow agreed for Foodlink (you would better know it as Level 9’s neighbour). We have been there before and were not very satisfied and it repeated today again. The Italian section provides a good open air ambience especially when the aura is a bit chilly. The subtle breeze that sweeps across your face refreshes you and wipes out depression shown very clearly from the limited menu; worst when most of the items are not available. We could hear no music today. I don’t know if they sold-off their BOSE. Good if they did as the music played last time was an insult to the finest piece in acoustics. The artificial candle is too lame to bring in the effect of the candle light, the warmth was missing and the romance too. The only interesting thing about the beverage menu is some poetry and one liners on various drinks which are worth a read. They have a pretty good range of whiskey from Royal Stag to Blue Label but they lack in their collection of cocktails. The prices are as elevated as the location of the resto, making it an “over priced-not worth it” category place. The hospitality is commendable and nothing else. The view of the city with the E-square and the Kakade Mall catching your attention is indeed a delight for the eyes and better if it is captured on a high zoom camera. It was a chilly night and a coffee would bring the mind and soul together. Now, search for a coffee bar is on. If you want a good hot coffee, never stop by a CCD. They suck! The options were Finale on the Law college road and the Barista on the FC road. Sadly, the Pune Coffee Shop lost its existence somehow and Finale is en-route. So, Barista it is. The FC road Barista is one of my favourite places for a coffee, anytime of the day. The location has a good crowd, the feel of the FC road, always packed with people, full of expressions and colours. As they say, “Stop drooling and place your order”. My drink at this time of the day is a Café Twist and a Hazel-nut cappuccino for my friend. And what else do you need when you have a perfect partner for conversations. Also a smoke or two gives a good company and adds to the refreshing frequency of the brain. Midnight it is, time for her to sleep and thank you for keeping us awake! The mood was so well crafted by those conversations that we decided to move on to some other buzzing place and continue it. Suddenly it strikes – CAD-B! Whoa! 12 AM and it looks as good as a college canteen! It did remind me of the All Night Canteen in my college when we used to have our supper and maggi was the universal choice. But here, the order is a usual one, CAD-B half shared by both of us. And as expected in such a place, my friend who has spent her full college life in this city, meets her old mates. One among them shared a similar interest as mine – photography. A good talk it was and a good commercial break! Back to the conversations initiated by the hot coffee and now being warmed down by the cold CAD-B. 0030 hours and yes its time to go back and have a tight sleep to get up for jogging early next morning (as part of the preparations for the Pune Marathon). Had a nice time. Good night! Chao!

“I’d pay his rent.”

“What about the boy over there?”

“I’d pay his rent too. Only if that hag doesn’t come with the package.”

“I think he’s straight.”

shift eyes to the right

“I’d pay that boy’s rent. I’ll pay his bills.”

“He could probably pay your rent.”

“No.”

“Is that a man or a woman?”

“He looks like a brat.”

“Who’s rent should I pay?”

I tried to explain why I used so much energy to push the door open, but you weren’t interested. You see, I’ve waited outside here before, not realising the door was just stiff. I was witness to sparkly women neck drinks and watch a bride-to-be unwrap presents, shrieking, cooing, some eye rolling. I was watchful and careful to laugh when things were funny and flatten my mouth in sympathy when they weren’t. So I thought it was just jammed, until you called ‘It’s occupied’. You weren’t keen to hear my story, leaving the cubicle in such a fatal, furious manner.

“Excuse me, you boys are worse than me!” I say in mock protest, “me and JL were all sweet and innocent before you corrupted us,” I say with a grin. This is met with incredulous laughter from the two boys stood in front of me. “Yeah right,” says DW, “we just talk about doing stuff…”
“Yeah you actually do it!” adds M.

I am stood on the floor talking to Green Eyes. “Yeah well SA Captain will do it…” I say, saying his full name. Green Eyes makes some joke about his surname. “No I think you’ll find it’s SA Captain, “2nd most attractive male”…” I say with a giggle for recently he sent out an e-mail with this accolade in his signature. There is a split second pause before Green Eyes response, “yeah and the people who voted for him must have been drunk…”

[00:41] angela78dotcom: and then i basically slept all day
[00:41] angela78dotcom: and that’s all
[00:41] angela78dotcom: what’d you do?!?!?!??!
[00:41] Eric Offq Le: hmm i woke up at 4am
[00:42] Eric Offq Le: a lil overwhelming for me actually
[00:43] Eric Offq Le: i prefer days like urs
[00:47] angela78dotcom: haha
[00:48] angela78dotcom: i have too many days like mine
[00:48] Eric Offq Le: hehe
[00:48] Eric Offq Le: i dunnoo. i’m pretty good at chilling
[00:48] Eric Offq Le: i think i can chill harder then you
[00:53] angela78dotcom: HAHAHAHAHAHA
[00:53] angela78dotcom: fighting words!!!
[00:53] angela78dotcom: you challenge me?!
[00:53] Eric Offq Le: lol a CHILL OFF!??

German-born, US-based nu-trance master Markus Schulz talks to DJsounds’ Lorna Cole from outside the Ocean Drive Hotel, in Ibiza. (And, yes, apparently that it is house legend Frankie Knuckles in the background!) Meanwhile, footage of mighty Markus in the mix comes from a club-thumping Armada night at Amnesia.

http://www.djsounds.com/11/27/interview-markus-schulz-part-1-in-ibiza/

Recently, I had a online chat with an old friend, W, who is a banana: Yellow on the outside, white on the inside. (She also claims to be an inner blonde.) Obviously, I am not a banana. I am a mango. The fact that W is often bananas, i.e. crazy—and I’m speaking the way an adult does of a cute but mischievous pet–—cannot be stressed more.

At the prospect of a meal consisting of the much-touted wagyu beef burger, W’s fingers went ahead of herself and typed ‘Thank you! MUAH!’  In her glee, the m word came out unfiltered and unabashedly in uppercase on my chatscreen.  [Remind me to get her a HEPA filter for Christmas.] Conservatism has never been her strong point. To her credit, she tried to backtrack. “Am I allowed to do that?”

I ignored that sudden outburst of spontaneity; afterall, I was exiting the MRT station going home and needed to focus on getting on escalators, crossing bridges. Besides, the use of muahs, in written/cyber form,  are still reserved for kids and significant others, right?

There’s a scene in Departures, one of my favourite Japanese films, where a man and a woman get into a quarrel. They kneel on the tatami, a square table dividing them, and they exchange words. Their terse sitting positions never change, only their words are circling the air, tense and bitter, edged with a sharpness that can cut through the soul.  They are husband and wife, but you would not guess it if you just chanced upon that scene. Conservatism in its ultimate expression–displayed between husband and wife.

Quintessentially Japanese, wouldn’t you say? And in the scene where she breaks the news that she is expecting their first child, the husband’s first reaction is not to go around the kitchen island to embrace her, but to express his joy in words.

One simply can’t go around giving everybody muahs, whether in word form or otherwise. Not when conservatism is the order of the day.

She apparently thinks differently. The written form, she says, is a simple outburst of spontaneity, nothing more, nothing less. In this classic instance of east meets west in cyberspace, my banana friend eschewed conservatism and showed warm gratitude at my gesture of the wagyu burger.

She defends her lack of conservatism, citing years of living in a Western culture.  Perhaps if I did study music in a place like Berklee (the famous music conservatory in Boston), my ingrained conservatism might have eroded a little. Things might have been different, I conceded. I imagine bohemian Asian musicians, walking examples of east-meets-west, walking around the campus, blithely sprinkling muahs in their e-mails, smses, online chats, and blogs, free to express themselves as they most certainly do in their musical forays.

“I used to be conservative, you know,” she said. “Still am. But spontaneity… That is allowed room for expression sometimes, right?”

Perhaps. Maybe more so when one has gone bananas for a long time.

[Link to this post]

What if I could have a vocation that both paid my bills and allowed me to minister as a part of a local fellowship of believers?

Would I still be compelled to live vocationally as a pastor?

This was an interesting question that came up in a conversation I had in my living room with a new found friend.  Of course there’s a story line that isn’t being told which lead to this, but the story that follows is the story I am writing.  It is a story of questions that I haven’t asked before, but are questions that aren’t new to me.  Questions like:

What if Christians celebrated someone going into a “secular” vocation as much as they did a “ministry” vocation?

What if the goal of pastors was less about recruiting people for ministry within the church, but about empowering people for ministry within their spheres of influence?

It’s funny the questions you ask yourself in life. Just a short trip into my personal journals finds me amused for hours.  (yes…I do keep a journal, and it isn’t my blog.)  Some of those questions I asked seem trivial and trite, but in retrospect, the very fact I was asking those questions led me to journey for answers.

And journey I have…

And journey I continue…

Topics of conversations with my family include:
Zombie apocalypse and how my mom is going to start a conversation with the goshen gunshop guys, just in case
Steven colbert and the werewolves congress
Where mom & dad should live post retirement
And of course a rousing game of tichu

I give thanks to holiday conversations.

Buttercup: It’s like, ‘Oh look, another movie starring Eddie Murphy as Eddie Murphy playing Eddie Murphy who’s in an Eddie Murphy costume.’

Bothell: It’s like an Eddie Murphy turducken.

A person I knew S, was two timing F & N for the past 2-3 years. When he was out with F, he would insist that he and N were over, when in truth, he still was dating N and seeing her every day. Similar story in reversed way was told to N about F. So these two rather silly and naïve girls hated the other to their guts. He was so suave in his lies and would treat them like princesses. They were insanely in love with him and placed him high on a pedestal – him to lord over their emotions and trust.

So Fate decided to overturn his enormous table of lies. N frustrated by certain comments received in his Facebook, decided to get things straight with F. The girls met and realized how deep a shit hole of lies they were in and plotted a way to confront S – yes, it involved hitting, thrashing his room and electrocuting his laptop to death – ah, he was screwed. Yet all the way to the end, he did not really show any signs of remorse and was still trying to convince each girl that the other was lying.

Ah did I tell you, he has an “ex-girlfriend” box, evidences of his conquests.

That is the story in a nutshell… a feedback from Ehsan that lead me to this entry:

I would never cheat on you, love you too much. But I wonder; S was not having sex with either girl. So why cheat on them and risk being found out? Is he just starved for emotional attention? Because that was all he got. In retrospect, his way of ‘cheating’ is how many girls do it; with the mind and not the body.

In a small way Ehsan is wrong because he assumes males desire for sexual benefits rather than emotional attachment. I feel that, males equally feel inadequate and insecure – making it worse, society has always demand males to show a tough and resilient exterior – no signs of “weak” emotions allowed.

However, I feel Ehsan rightly pointed S’s bizarre symptoms that may unravel plenty of underlying problems.

In my conversations with S, I figured that he has too many brothers that outshone him and his relationship with his parents were not close, perhaps even, they did not spend as much one to one time to nurture and understand him. I have a feeling that his parents may be the traditional, patriarchal typified family, widening the gulf. He told me that he was brought up by his female cousins.

I suppose he yearned for constant emotional attachment, specifically from females – as I figured he would have issues with being close to males – he is unable to compete with the egos of all the other males in his family. Hence, he clung on to N & F like a blood sucking leech – even if it meant lying to them all the time.

I also figured that, since he still has ANOTHER girlfriend, apart from N & F – this is a long distance relationship – she may actually be his first love. Perhaps she cheated on him before or that she requested for an open relationship where they both could freely date others or similar to him, she prefers casual dating as compared to being committed to just one. I feel that he does not really want an open relationship, but perhaps his ego or his claim to be very open-minded made him agree to it. Therefore, I am assuming that during their conversations (when they meet up), they would share stories of their conquests – he has to create relationships to prove to her that he is as “capable” in that area.

I have never seen anyone who has lied AND able to get away with it so many times and take those he claimed to care about, for granted. In truth, the only person he actually loves is himself. All his ex-girlfriends were just accessories to glorify himself – his conquests. The thrill of being liked, at the expense of forming any real relationships with others – I pity him.

Interestingly, I did have a hunch that S could not be trusted and I told him that. I do admit that for a while i was awed and interested by him, his fun, mysterious and “charming” ways. He is like a magician, able to delude you with his tricks and gain the admiration of many. However over time, his conversations became rehearsed and full of merry go rounds, incomprehensible – he is able to weave out the truth and weave in versions that sound like the truth.

A talent. A trickster.

Ehsan also told me that, the girls themselves deserved to be led by. Like an abusive relationship, both parties need to be willing to put themselves in the predicament. They were warned by others yet still proceeded to let him have a hold over them.

I am just glad that my first love is a true one and hope it would always be

Thanksgiving. While we should always give thanks to who we have and what we have in our lives, we set aside a day to celebrate such thanks. As has been customary for the past 10 years, I’ve made Thanksgiving dinner at my place and family and friends converge for an evening of conversation, good eating and relaxing. This year Mom and Sis were going to bring a few friends as well so I knew the pressure was on to make the perfect Thanksgiving. One where people would be begging for more.

Cooking was a breeze. The wild turkey I picked up from CT and the whole chicken turned out better than I thought. I don’t follow a conventional method of a butter, salt and pepper rub, but instead make breadcrumbs and then season the crumbs with various spices. Egg wash the birds and then apply the dry rub before sticking in the oven. This year I also tried a broccoli au gratin to cover some of the vegetables that should accompany the other items like mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn for the dinner. While all this sounds like a lot of work, I enjoy it. Kitchens bring out my creative side and I feel at home amongst food. I was busy in the kitchen when Mom came over.

Mom wanted to help out so she popped in earlier than she had planned. I think Moms are always like this. Always wanting to help but not realizing that helping could offset the outlined plan of action. Thanksgiving though, Mom was in help mode with sticking the plan. She helped me peel onions, garlic and take spices out. Very helpful indeed. And as any mother, made sure I was well rested and didn’t do too much. No matter how old I get, I can never dislike Mom looking out for me. She’s cool like that

As we were dicing and spicing, Mom asked me about how things were going. Asked about work, friends and life in general. Catching up on things. While we only live a few blocks away from one another, we rarely spend the time talking. Most of our daily talks is me checking in on her to see if she needs anything or is feeling ok. Pretty one-sided but only cause I don’t make the effort to share much about myself. This time was the perfect time for us to talk about me.

Mom asked me about my plans for the weekend and after I told her she became a little quiet. I was busy cleaning the birds when she asked me if I had anyone special in my life. My relationships and Mom have always been complicated. Mom loves that I am with someone yet she doesn’t want to think about it. Being old-fashioned, sex and what makes it up is not something she likes to hear about. Which is why between the ages of 22-26 Mom didn’t dare care about who I was dating because I was pretty much dating most of lower Manhattan. So it came as a bit of a surprise she asked me about my love life. I told her I was dating although it has not been an easy transition from being in a committed relationship to flying solo. She understood this well but then asked me if there was someone special. I stopped what I was doing and asked her what does she mean. She then started talking about how she always thought I would end up with Michelle. She thought the smitten 17-year-old and the length of time I’ve known her would end in marital bliss. Seeing that we instead became strong friends with no benefits, she wondered who was the one who had moved me from that course. I was babbling cryptically about loving someone but having a myriad of complications which makes a relationship beyond what we have seem impossible. She told me up front she wouldn’t tell anyone but she didn’t understand what I had said. So then, with reluctance that I reminded me of when I was 10 years old and had a bad report card to show Mom, I told her my issue. I confessed my love for a woman I cannot have. A woman who is married but whom I feel stronger than any other relationship I have had. The truth out, I let the floodgates burst forth and told her what was in my heart.  Mom stood there listening quietly. After I was done telling her. I waited for a response. Then Mom spoke.

She asked me a simple question. Does she feel the same way for me? I told her, I truly know so. She then scrunched her forehead thinking. I waited like a child to have her berate me for my stupidity. Instead, she asked me would she move for me or I move for her? I told her we talked of things like that but I can only face them if other things fall into place. She then started to ask me if the girl would get along with her. Would she be friendly or would she only humor Mom because of me. I told Mom she hasn’t met her yet but she talks how she wants to meet Mom. Satisfied with the answers, she then told me that she does hope this love comes to fruition. She also told me that she knows I’ve done everything she could ever ask from a son and it was time to follow my heart. Life is short. She told me she would never have traded the almost 16 years she had with Dad for a relationship with a man who would’ve been living today. Those 16 years were the best of her life.

I never much thought about the romantic side of Mom. Dad was the romantic one. Mom was the receiver when I was growing up but she does have a side to her that she felt she needed to express to me. We resumed cooking without mention of our conversation. I sit back today thinking she provided me with just another of the many reasons I am thankful to call her Mom.