Sunday, June 25, 2006

There is a God of Gorgeous Butts

A few days ago, I had posted a comment on A's blog on the characteristics of The Great Indian Queue where I had bemoaned... ok, let me paste it in so you can see for yourself.

- there will never, ever be a young woman with a gorgeous butt in front of you. Ever. If you have a sex change and enter the miss universe contest, the person in front of you will still be someone who's done the same.

Within 24 hours of posting this, I was in a queue. The window was closed (gone for lunch) and immediately in front of me - right in front - was the best denim-clad butt I had had the previlige of seeing for the last month.
The timing of this is... frightening.

But it definitely makes a lot of sense for me to do what I'm about to do... I think I'm on a good thing.

The next biggest problem with India is that nobody comes to you in the street and for no reason hands you large amounts of cash.

Ok, God Of Give Ashish Pots Of Cash, do your stuff!

Friday, June 23, 2006

Return of the Living Dead

Under any other circumstance, I'd have found this freaky. Over the last ten days, my dead past has been crawling out of the woodwork in the form of
orkut contacts. People I haven't met, spoken to, mailed, IM'd, thought about, fantasized about, or even had featuring in nightmares suddenly appear in their new avatars of networking pages, coming first in ones and twos and then by the dozen.
Coincidentally, the last ten days have also seen a massive surge in zombie movies. Resident Evil, Resident Evil: Apocalypse, Dawn of the Dead, Shaun of the Dead... I finally aquired the Constantine divx and the new Omen, Underworld 2, and Final Destination III released in theatres... not to mention Hellboy tonight.
Diabolic Conspiracy or Divine Communique? The frequency of calls coming from the US for one highly work-intensive client also went sharply up, so I mapped the correlations between horror on TV versus horror on call.
It was .76.
Not funny. Not funny, man.
That is - I don't consider my clients in any way to be associated with the Downstairs, or possess any form of demonic powers or influence. They may have, but someone will need to actually banish one with holy incantations before I'll accept it.
But that's the beauty of networking sites - they network. Simple fact of life but comes across as pretty creepy when you see it in action - one person signs up, starts getting in touch, and suddeny long-lost friends and enemies turn up everywhere... and they're all mailing, messaging, scrapping, smsing. A cloud of cacophonous virtual pigeons around my head. And unlike real pigeons, I can't even catch and eat 'em.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Go to hell!

Except that this time round, I know exactly where that is.

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!

You approach Satan's wretched city where you behold a wide plain surrounded by iron walls. Before you are fields full of distress and torment terrible. Burning tombs are littered about the landscape. Inside these flaming sepulchers suffer the heretics, failing to believe in God and the afterlife, who make themselves audible by doleful sighs. You will join the wicked that lie here, and will be offered no respite. The three infernal Furies stained with blood, with limbs of women and hair of serpents, dwell in this circle of Hell.

Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)Extreme
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)Very High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)Extreme
Level 7 (Violent)Very High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)Very High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)Very High

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

Somehow I never really imagined heresy to be the biggest sin I'll be committing in my life. Lust, gluttony, avarice, gloom, treachery, even violence... but heresy? Or is the fact I can't recognize it proof of the fact?
Or is it just the Net's way of telling me I don't agree with anyone?