I saddens me greatly that there are people in this world who have read self help books, or spiritual types of books, and not read The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. Everyone knows that H2G2 has the biggest self help gyaan in the galaxy - 'Don't Panic' (in large, friendly letters, no less). What greater spiritual meaning can there be than 42, the answer to life, the universe and everything?
If you are a member of this group of people, please, please, remedy the situation by reading H2G2 as soon as possible. It's the best self help you could possibly get!
Showing posts with label Theories of life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Theories of life. Show all posts
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Procreation
This is a response to this blog post:
Existence
Please give that a read before you continue reading this.
(No, seriously!)
Now that you've read it, a little recap - Abhishek asks why people want to have children. I present my response to this question:
1. Because: They like children
Individual choice stands for a lot, and people like many things that make no sense to other people. There will also be people who must be in a relationship. Others will find that confounding. People want to have children, so they will.
2. Because: The BPL argument
A history teacher once put forward this argument to explain why you tend to see really poor people have large families. Poor people think that raising more children means there will be more people to support the family, and themselves. The said teacher had also, quite rightly pointed out - if there must be x number of children born every day, let them be born into a family that can support the children. The BPL argument is inherently flawed, but it is true.
3. Because: Cogito Ergo Sum
Man thinks, therefore he is. I like to believe that one of the most fundamental needs of the human race is the desire to gain knowledge. Knowledge comes from new ideas. New ideas cannot come about from an ageing, dying race of people. New ideas need new people - a new generation.
4. Because: Legacy
Another fundamental desire of the human race is to leave behind a legacy. Everyone wants to die knowing that someone, somewhere will remember them. For great luminaries of any generation, this is easy - their acts leave behind a legacy that will remind future generations of them. An ordinary person (by virtue of being ordinary) does not have access to this sort of legacy. Procreation is another way of being remembered. Your children will remember you. It's not as great a legacy as that left behind by a great scientist, but it's better than none.
5. Because: Anarchy
One of the reasons that the world at least attempts to control its excesses is so that something maybe left behind for the future generations. If the whole world were to go completely, and irreversibly sterile - it would be worse for the planet than it is now. Today you try to minimise using a fuel guzzling SUV because you want to limit the harm you cause to the planet. If there is no future, you might as well trash the planet as you go. And make no mistake - that is exactly what will happen. 2000 years of (recent) history point out that humanity is not a race well suited to compromise and agreement.
6. Because: It makes no difference if Humanity dies out
If the human race dies out, you only buy the planet a few million years. It's a seemingly long time, but not very long when compared to the age of the earth. A new dominant species will rise, and will eventually behave the same as we do now.
7. Because: Natural Selection
Natural selection is the reason why we're all here today. Natural selection exists on simple principles - the race must go one, and only the best of the race must go on. Consider a situation where the six billion people of the world have agreed to not reproduce. There will be people who will circumvent this agreement- let us say 2 million people, giving birth to a million babies. You can act all hurt about these people breaking the pact, but it will actually be Natural Selection acting in its best interests- the genes of those unfit to carry on the race, the 5.998 billion who abstained, are eliminated from the gene pool. The remaining million face possibly the best quality of life in modern history.
Finally - Abhishek says, "We exist, therefore, we protect existence." This is not a unique thought. It's just a rewording of natural selection. Every species exists to protect its own existence. There is nothing special about humans in this respect - it is a part of the instinct that every animal shares.
Those are some reasons for people to have babies. I don't agree with all of them, just some of them.
Existence
Please give that a read before you continue reading this.
(No, seriously!)
Now that you've read it, a little recap - Abhishek asks why people want to have children. I present my response to this question:
1. Because: They like children
Individual choice stands for a lot, and people like many things that make no sense to other people. There will also be people who must be in a relationship. Others will find that confounding. People want to have children, so they will.
2. Because: The BPL argument
A history teacher once put forward this argument to explain why you tend to see really poor people have large families. Poor people think that raising more children means there will be more people to support the family, and themselves. The said teacher had also, quite rightly pointed out - if there must be x number of children born every day, let them be born into a family that can support the children. The BPL argument is inherently flawed, but it is true.
3. Because: Cogito Ergo Sum
Man thinks, therefore he is. I like to believe that one of the most fundamental needs of the human race is the desire to gain knowledge. Knowledge comes from new ideas. New ideas cannot come about from an ageing, dying race of people. New ideas need new people - a new generation.
4. Because: Legacy
Another fundamental desire of the human race is to leave behind a legacy. Everyone wants to die knowing that someone, somewhere will remember them. For great luminaries of any generation, this is easy - their acts leave behind a legacy that will remind future generations of them. An ordinary person (by virtue of being ordinary) does not have access to this sort of legacy. Procreation is another way of being remembered. Your children will remember you. It's not as great a legacy as that left behind by a great scientist, but it's better than none.
5. Because: Anarchy
One of the reasons that the world at least attempts to control its excesses is so that something maybe left behind for the future generations. If the whole world were to go completely, and irreversibly sterile - it would be worse for the planet than it is now. Today you try to minimise using a fuel guzzling SUV because you want to limit the harm you cause to the planet. If there is no future, you might as well trash the planet as you go. And make no mistake - that is exactly what will happen. 2000 years of (recent) history point out that humanity is not a race well suited to compromise and agreement.
6. Because: It makes no difference if Humanity dies out
If the human race dies out, you only buy the planet a few million years. It's a seemingly long time, but not very long when compared to the age of the earth. A new dominant species will rise, and will eventually behave the same as we do now.
7. Because: Natural Selection
Natural selection is the reason why we're all here today. Natural selection exists on simple principles - the race must go one, and only the best of the race must go on. Consider a situation where the six billion people of the world have agreed to not reproduce. There will be people who will circumvent this agreement- let us say 2 million people, giving birth to a million babies. You can act all hurt about these people breaking the pact, but it will actually be Natural Selection acting in its best interests- the genes of those unfit to carry on the race, the 5.998 billion who abstained, are eliminated from the gene pool. The remaining million face possibly the best quality of life in modern history.
Finally - Abhishek says, "We exist, therefore, we protect existence." This is not a unique thought. It's just a rewording of natural selection. Every species exists to protect its own existence. There is nothing special about humans in this respect - it is a part of the instinct that every animal shares.
Those are some reasons for people to have babies. I don't agree with all of them, just some of them.
Thursday, 8 July 2010
Cake as a metophor for life
Just the other day, I was talking to VRD, and ended up saying that cake is a metaphor for life. It was said in jest, but come to think of it, it is true. This is because cake, like life, can be bitter, sweet, dry, awesome, horrible, cheesy, hard etc.
Like life, cake has a lot of variety. Cakes can be confusing, astounding, magnificent or boring.
Most importantly, like life...
... the cake is a lie!
Like life, cake has a lot of variety. Cakes can be confusing, astounding, magnificent or boring.
Most importantly, like life...
... the cake is a lie!
Wednesday, 23 December 2009
The world isn't ending...
... in 2012. I will quote the same sources that are running around in circles with their hair on fire, screaming 'aaaaaaaaaa', claiming we're all going to die in 2012.
The Large Hadron Collider will become fully operational sometime in 2010/2011. I am sure that there is much truth in the 2012 doomsday predictions, but I have similar faith the 'LHC-will-be-our-end' theory.
Therefore, since the world will asplode in 2010/2011, when the LHC creates an all-devouring mini black hole, there's no chance of doomsday being in 2012.
There simply won't be a world to asplode!
The Large Hadron Collider will become fully operational sometime in 2010/2011. I am sure that there is much truth in the 2012 doomsday predictions, but I have similar faith the 'LHC-will-be-our-end' theory.
Therefore, since the world will asplode in 2010/2011, when the LHC creates an all-devouring mini black hole, there's no chance of doomsday being in 2012.
There simply won't be a world to asplode!
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Growing up
Is the time it takes for the Birthday flag in your status register to go from:
1 - Yipeee!! Birthday time
to
0 - Heh, it's my birthday
to
x - Don't care
1 - Yipeee!! Birthday time
to
0 - Heh, it's my birthday
to
x - Don't care
Thursday, 6 August 2009
The drivel that is 2.0
I've been using the internet since the early days of the technology in India. When 28.8kbps was decent. When 56.6kbps was blazing fast. When a 1MB file took an hour (or more) to download. I distinctly remember when HTML4 was the 'in' thing. I've coded some websites myself...
Over the past couple of years, the one thing that disturbs me is the emergence of the so called 'Web 2.0'. It's supposed to be this revolution in the way web sites are designed. And it is. It has made web sites glossy, cool and hard to use. Don't get me wrong- people who know me will appreciate that I'm all for the 'this looks awesome for no reason' funda. But not at the cost of usability. During the last year, two websites I frequent , CricInfo and The Inquirer, have undergone a significant facelift. For starters, the experience was horrendous in the first few days after the switch. And even so, after I got used to the new 2.0 interfaces, I have not noticed any real improvement in the usability of either site.
The only change I have observed is that the sites are now more bandwidth intensive (which does not really bother me since I'm on broadband, but you don't leave the tap open just because you get 24hrs water supply, do you?). They look flashy and cool, but the sole reason I go to these sites is the fact that they had excellent content. I fail to see how web 2.0 is a value addition.
I know it appears like I'm now cribbing about inconsequential things, but since you've held on for so long, I'll leave you with another revelation (it was to me, anyway). I have been used to the internet as it was for many years, almost a decade now. Web 2.0 makes me feel technologically retarded. Maybe this is what growing old feels like. When the young can adapt so easily to the new world, while the old struggle to keep up... I think those of you who have been online since as long as I have will appreciate what I say. Those of you who who are relatively new will simply have to wait for a few years before you too can feel old and feeble!
One thing's for sure, I know what my mum feels like when she comes across a computer.
Over the past couple of years, the one thing that disturbs me is the emergence of the so called 'Web 2.0'. It's supposed to be this revolution in the way web sites are designed. And it is. It has made web sites glossy, cool and hard to use. Don't get me wrong- people who know me will appreciate that I'm all for the 'this looks awesome for no reason' funda. But not at the cost of usability. During the last year, two websites I frequent , CricInfo and The Inquirer, have undergone a significant facelift. For starters, the experience was horrendous in the first few days after the switch. And even so, after I got used to the new 2.0 interfaces, I have not noticed any real improvement in the usability of either site.
The only change I have observed is that the sites are now more bandwidth intensive (which does not really bother me since I'm on broadband, but you don't leave the tap open just because you get 24hrs water supply, do you?). They look flashy and cool, but the sole reason I go to these sites is the fact that they had excellent content. I fail to see how web 2.0 is a value addition.
I know it appears like I'm now cribbing about inconsequential things, but since you've held on for so long, I'll leave you with another revelation (it was to me, anyway). I have been used to the internet as it was for many years, almost a decade now. Web 2.0 makes me feel technologically retarded. Maybe this is what growing old feels like. When the young can adapt so easily to the new world, while the old struggle to keep up... I think those of you who have been online since as long as I have will appreciate what I say. Those of you who who are relatively new will simply have to wait for a few years before you too can feel old and feeble!
One thing's for sure, I know what my mum feels like when she comes across a computer.
Sunday, 24 May 2009
When Curses are Blessings
Some of you may know, that we have a new Baba. Abba is passe. Make way for,
*drumroll*
The lord of the universe,
The protector of the innocent,
The decimator of the pseudo-scientists,
The instigator of scientific thought,
The sampler of the delicate rose,
The photographer of the beetle,
The Rose-Beetle Baba, VRD!
So you should guess why he cursed me. We were out on a little trip out of the city. Staying overnight at a village after climbing (and unclimbing) Torna. And we went on and on and on making terrible jokes about the new Baba. He took it quite well for most part, but as the jokes got worse, you could see his expression changing. From the calm and collected look he always has, you could see a pained look entering his face. Finally, he snapped.
[Useful background information]
VRD rejected an IIT to grace our college with his holy presence. Some say that if you know VRD's actual grades, you would have an accurate value of infinity. We usually get grades on a scale of ten. He on the other hand, would be scandalised if he got anything less than ten.
[End of useful background information]
Gathering his reserve, VRD put in as much sneer as a nice chap like him can put into his voice, and cursed me. He thought it was the most terrible curse one could give. He whispered, with a manic grin,
"You, GreySith, You who have insulted me, the holy baba, I curse you! You, will get the paltry result of NINE POINTS for this semester!" A frightening evil laugh followed.
I didn't know what to do. Here I was, struggling to make eight, and he curses that I shall have nine! I found it hard to supress my joy, but I heroically did. I looked at him, glum and sullen, as if it truly was the most terrible thing in the world. He was duly satisfied with my reaction.
The results have come around, and the guy who was struggling to get past eight, has ended up with 8.6! Truly, Jai ho baba!
*drumroll*
The lord of the universe,
The protector of the innocent,
The decimator of the pseudo-scientists,
The instigator of scientific thought,
The sampler of the delicate rose,
The photographer of the beetle,
The Rose-Beetle Baba, VRD!
So you should guess why he cursed me. We were out on a little trip out of the city. Staying overnight at a village after climbing (and unclimbing) Torna. And we went on and on and on making terrible jokes about the new Baba. He took it quite well for most part, but as the jokes got worse, you could see his expression changing. From the calm and collected look he always has, you could see a pained look entering his face. Finally, he snapped.
[Useful background information]
VRD rejected an IIT to grace our college with his holy presence. Some say that if you know VRD's actual grades, you would have an accurate value of infinity. We usually get grades on a scale of ten. He on the other hand, would be scandalised if he got anything less than ten.
[End of useful background information]
Gathering his reserve, VRD put in as much sneer as a nice chap like him can put into his voice, and cursed me. He thought it was the most terrible curse one could give. He whispered, with a manic grin,
"You, GreySith, You who have insulted me, the holy baba, I curse you! You, will get the paltry result of NINE POINTS for this semester!" A frightening evil laugh followed.
I didn't know what to do. Here I was, struggling to make eight, and he curses that I shall have nine! I found it hard to supress my joy, but I heroically did. I looked at him, glum and sullen, as if it truly was the most terrible thing in the world. He was duly satisfied with my reaction.
The results have come around, and the guy who was struggling to get past eight, has ended up with 8.6! Truly, Jai ho baba!
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
The render of the veils
It's the title of a horror story by Ramsey Campbell. Among the creepiest stories I've ever read. In synopsis, it's like this:
It's a rainy, gloomy night. Two men, looking for a taxi, decide to share the first one they find. During the taxi drive, they begin to discuss perspectives, and the thought that we do not truly see things for what they are. We see things as we have been trained to see them. One of the men is a worshipper of Daoloth, the render of the veils. Daoloth is the deity who renders the veils that keep humans from seeing what truly is. This man is about to perform a ritual to Daoloth, so Daoloth may remove the veils.
The other enthusiastically agrees and they head to the first's house to perform the ritual. The next morning, police finds both the men dead. They also find a very creepy audio recording of what transpired that night.
I read this story a long time ago. But it has always been at the back of my head. What if what we see, what we feel (as in sensory perception), what we hear, what if it is all a figment of our imagination? An imagination that we have been brought up with?
It struck me how much the perspective changes the way we see things recently. Friends of my parents came home one night. My entire family was at our shop at the other end of the city. I offered to go along with the friends to the shop, since they were not from Pune and didn't know the roads. And it changed the way I see Pune.
Having travelled the length and breadth of the city on a two wheeler for most of my life (generous thank you to the folks at Kinetic Engineering and Honda Motor Scooter India, for the unforgettable experiences I've had on a Kinetic Honda, a Kinetic Nova and a Honda Activa, before my current beast), all the development was unnoticed. I'd seen it change slowly, seen it evolve. But when was the last time I'd travelled through Pune sitting in the back of an Army Gypsy vehicle? A VERY long time ago. Sitting in a Gypsy again, it suddely showed me the contrasts in the Pune of old and the new Pune. It showed me the immense development that had taken place in my city. The city I'd lived in for years. It felt an alien city suddenly.
Another example of this, is the realisation that my college is actually a very beautiful place. When you're busy with college activities, you seldom see how nice the place is. The other day, I took out my camera to take a couple of pics. The realisation didn't dawn on me until I'd started clicking. My college is beautiful. In bits anyway. And it took me the bast part of three years to realise that.
How deep does it go? How much of what we sense is real, and how much of it is what we're supposed to sense? Who can tell?
It's a rainy, gloomy night. Two men, looking for a taxi, decide to share the first one they find. During the taxi drive, they begin to discuss perspectives, and the thought that we do not truly see things for what they are. We see things as we have been trained to see them. One of the men is a worshipper of Daoloth, the render of the veils. Daoloth is the deity who renders the veils that keep humans from seeing what truly is. This man is about to perform a ritual to Daoloth, so Daoloth may remove the veils.
The other enthusiastically agrees and they head to the first's house to perform the ritual. The next morning, police finds both the men dead. They also find a very creepy audio recording of what transpired that night.
I read this story a long time ago. But it has always been at the back of my head. What if what we see, what we feel (as in sensory perception), what we hear, what if it is all a figment of our imagination? An imagination that we have been brought up with?
It struck me how much the perspective changes the way we see things recently. Friends of my parents came home one night. My entire family was at our shop at the other end of the city. I offered to go along with the friends to the shop, since they were not from Pune and didn't know the roads. And it changed the way I see Pune.
Having travelled the length and breadth of the city on a two wheeler for most of my life (generous thank you to the folks at Kinetic Engineering and Honda Motor Scooter India, for the unforgettable experiences I've had on a Kinetic Honda, a Kinetic Nova and a Honda Activa, before my current beast), all the development was unnoticed. I'd seen it change slowly, seen it evolve. But when was the last time I'd travelled through Pune sitting in the back of an Army Gypsy vehicle? A VERY long time ago. Sitting in a Gypsy again, it suddely showed me the contrasts in the Pune of old and the new Pune. It showed me the immense development that had taken place in my city. The city I'd lived in for years. It felt an alien city suddenly.
Another example of this, is the realisation that my college is actually a very beautiful place. When you're busy with college activities, you seldom see how nice the place is. The other day, I took out my camera to take a couple of pics. The realisation didn't dawn on me until I'd started clicking. My college is beautiful. In bits anyway. And it took me the bast part of three years to realise that.
How deep does it go? How much of what we sense is real, and how much of it is what we're supposed to sense? Who can tell?
Sunday, 15 February 2009
To be loved
I don't mean romantic love. I mean respect, adulation, adoration, awe. It is the reason why I feel working in an office all day long is tiring. It is not fulfilling. Humans crave all of the emotions I just mentioned. This post has been in my head since the Brazilian Grand Prix (Formula 1) of 2008. The last race of the year. Felipe Massa - a Brazilian in a Ferrari was in with a chance to win the drivers world championship. It was a moving sight, even on TV, to see the crowd in the stands. I cannot imagine any experience in life better than to perform in front of such a large crowd that overwhelmingly supports you. That race had to be seen to be believed. The fan reaction when he crossed the finish line, the drivers champion if the order at that moment held. The deafening silence when the order changed and he lost the drivers championship by a single point. It's hard to describe.
I attended a metal concert a couple of months ago. Ensiferum, at IIT Bombay. I doubt more than 5% of the crowd knew what the band were singing or even who they were. I didn't. But they were fantastic. So much so that I (and if you know me, you'll see how this is a little surprising) landed up in the mosh pit. Took me on another thought voyage. Can you imagine what it would be like to be the band in this case? To have a huge crowd in your grasp, to see that people were having the time of their lives because of you? What would it feel like?
It's not only a showman who can feel this though. Even the lowly engineer can. If he is in the right place that is. (The author apologises for delving deep into graphics processing unit folklore) In the first half of 2008, ATI, the graphics arm of Advanced Micro Devices, came out with the Radeon 4800 series of graphic cards. This series, in way that cannot be comprehended fully, changed the computer graphics industry forever. For so many years, ATI and Nvidia tried to play better (metaphorically). In 2008, ATI stopped trying to play better. It changed the rules. The 4800 series captured the imagination of everyone who cared for this industry. A couple of months later, I came across an article on Anandtech, describing what went into creating the 4800 series. The design team took gambles, audacious gambles, and it all paid off. The comments to that article are relevant to this post. It was a public outpouring of admiration for the folks at ATI.
During a similar time last year, I also saw The Dark Knight in theatres. The first day and the first show. The movie had been hyped to levels I had seldom seen. And it lived up to the hype. In fact, it exceeded the hype. Most of this was thanks to a certain Heath Ledger. I have never seen a movie receive a standing ovation at the end of a screening. That day I did. I'm sorry that the people associated with the film do not get a chance to see this reaction (I'm sure it happened many times over across the world).
Life isn't about how much money you earn. It isn't about how much success you have. It isn't about how many promotions you get. It isn't about how many cars or houses you have. It is about being loved. The love of a small group of people close to you, and the love of a large group of people across the world. I wish that life takes me along a path that will let me achieve my goal in life. Indeed, there is only one. To be loved.
I attended a metal concert a couple of months ago. Ensiferum, at IIT Bombay. I doubt more than 5% of the crowd knew what the band were singing or even who they were. I didn't. But they were fantastic. So much so that I (and if you know me, you'll see how this is a little surprising) landed up in the mosh pit. Took me on another thought voyage. Can you imagine what it would be like to be the band in this case? To have a huge crowd in your grasp, to see that people were having the time of their lives because of you? What would it feel like?
It's not only a showman who can feel this though. Even the lowly engineer can. If he is in the right place that is. (The author apologises for delving deep into graphics processing unit folklore) In the first half of 2008, ATI, the graphics arm of Advanced Micro Devices, came out with the Radeon 4800 series of graphic cards. This series, in way that cannot be comprehended fully, changed the computer graphics industry forever. For so many years, ATI and Nvidia tried to play better (metaphorically). In 2008, ATI stopped trying to play better. It changed the rules. The 4800 series captured the imagination of everyone who cared for this industry. A couple of months later, I came across an article on Anandtech, describing what went into creating the 4800 series. The design team took gambles, audacious gambles, and it all paid off. The comments to that article are relevant to this post. It was a public outpouring of admiration for the folks at ATI.
During a similar time last year, I also saw The Dark Knight in theatres. The first day and the first show. The movie had been hyped to levels I had seldom seen. And it lived up to the hype. In fact, it exceeded the hype. Most of this was thanks to a certain Heath Ledger. I have never seen a movie receive a standing ovation at the end of a screening. That day I did. I'm sorry that the people associated with the film do not get a chance to see this reaction (I'm sure it happened many times over across the world).
Life isn't about how much money you earn. It isn't about how much success you have. It isn't about how many promotions you get. It isn't about how many cars or houses you have. It is about being loved. The love of a small group of people close to you, and the love of a large group of people across the world. I wish that life takes me along a path that will let me achieve my goal in life. Indeed, there is only one. To be loved.
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
You don't know what this means....
... until it happens to you.
@ At the other entity involved- no hard feelings, merely an observation.
Disclaimer: The image and alt text are copied exactly as is from xkcd.
(c) xkcd etc.
Saturday, 27 December 2008
How to use a bike on a date
Ahoy there! It's been a while eh? Well, back again to try and amuse you, I am.
So this article, is a collection of thoughts of things that you could do with a bike on a date. I'll be talking about how different bits of a bike can be used on a date. For the guys, take this with a heap of salt (the author's never tried any of this). For the girls, if you notice your guy following this post like a textbook on your date, you know what to do (or do you?). So here we go:
1. The headlamp [L]
It could help you get her attention before you're out on a date, but not much use on a date.
2. The horn [H]
You might need it when you go to pick her up. A nasty loud blaring horn (that sounds like a Punjab da trukkk oye!) will probably not go down very well, but if you've got a wimpy horn, you'll sound sound like a, well, wimp. Now you know.
3. Torque [T]
If you have a torquey engine, it's a nice tool that you can use. On the first few dates, use the torque to overtake the other jerk with the chick behind him. She (the one behind you :s) ought to be a little impressed. On later dates, open the throttle suddenly to have the bike leap forward. Likely to have her clutch at you as a knee-jerk reaction (Though it's pretty sad for a girl to be clutching at a jerk like you).
4. Engine roar [E]
I suppose it looks better if your engine roars more than it purrs.
5. The front brake [B]
Nothing, I repeat, nothing will bring two people closer on a date than a well disguised and hard brake (the verb brake, not the noun brake). For this, you need a strong front brake. Ought to work like a charm.
6. The size of the rear seat [S]
A small rear seat leads to obvious consequences... the less said (by this author) the better *cough* *cough*.
7. Riding gear [G]
No idea how this impresses the ladies. Jerks tend to believe that they look more macho without riding gear on. I tend to differ on that view. Your take really.
8. The grab rail [R]
If you have a nice big grab rail to hold on to, your girl will hold that. You have a bad grab rail to hold on to, the lady will hold on to you.
9. The shock absorbers [A]
Bad shocks will make the pillion clutch harder at whatever she's holding, so bad shocks + #8, the maths is simple.
Now that we have eight parameters, let's rate bikes on these points. Scores out of 70, converted to a score out of 10. Higher scores are good for the desperate guys, lower scores good for the ladies. I'll only be rating bikes that I have used.
The results:
So there you have it.
Ladies, you know you can trust a guy on a Unicorn. Guys, Pulsar 200 for the win!
Disclaimers:
1. The author has never tried any of this. (What did you think?)
2. Guys, if the girl has (unfortunately) read this post, best of luck on that date.
The author wishes to acknowledge that the probability of him going out tended to zero before this post was published. After publishing, the probability now stands at zero. If you were amused for one moment by this article, please observe a microsecond's silence for this tragedy.
So this article, is a collection of thoughts of things that you could do with a bike on a date. I'll be talking about how different bits of a bike can be used on a date. For the guys, take this with a heap of salt (the author's never tried any of this). For the girls, if you notice your guy following this post like a textbook on your date, you know what to do (or do you?). So here we go:
1. The headlamp [L]
It could help you get her attention before you're out on a date, but not much use on a date.
2. The horn [H]
You might need it when you go to pick her up. A nasty loud blaring horn (that sounds like a Punjab da trukkk oye!) will probably not go down very well, but if you've got a wimpy horn, you'll sound sound like a, well, wimp. Now you know.
3. Torque [T]
If you have a torquey engine, it's a nice tool that you can use. On the first few dates, use the torque to overtake the other jerk with the chick behind him. She (the one behind you :s) ought to be a little impressed. On later dates, open the throttle suddenly to have the bike leap forward. Likely to have her clutch at you as a knee-jerk reaction (Though it's pretty sad for a girl to be clutching at a jerk like you).
4. Engine roar [E]
I suppose it looks better if your engine roars more than it purrs.
5. The front brake [B]
Nothing, I repeat, nothing will bring two people closer on a date than a well disguised and hard brake (the verb brake, not the noun brake). For this, you need a strong front brake. Ought to work like a charm.
6. The size of the rear seat [S]
A small rear seat leads to obvious consequences... the less said (by this author) the better *cough* *cough*.
7. Riding gear [G]
No idea how this impresses the ladies. Jerks tend to believe that they look more macho without riding gear on. I tend to differ on that view. Your take really.
8. The grab rail [R]
If you have a nice big grab rail to hold on to, your girl will hold that. You have a bad grab rail to hold on to, the lady will hold on to you.
9. The shock absorbers [A]
Bad shocks will make the pillion clutch harder at whatever she's holding, so bad shocks + #8, the maths is simple.
Now that we have eight parameters, let's rate bikes on these points. Scores out of 70, converted to a score out of 10. Higher scores are good for the desperate guys, lower scores good for the ladies. I'll only be rating bikes that I have used.
The results:
So there you have it.
Ladies, you know you can trust a guy on a Unicorn. Guys, Pulsar 200 for the win!
Disclaimers:
1. The author has never tried any of this. (What did you think?)
2. Guys, if the girl has (unfortunately) read this post, best of luck on that date.
The author wishes to acknowledge that the probability of him going out tended to zero before this post was published. After publishing, the probability now stands at zero. If you were amused for one moment by this article, please observe a microsecond's silence for this tragedy.
Saturday, 28 June 2008
Marat Safin
I don't consider myself a tennis fan. I know most of the rules, know the current world #1s. But that's about it. On a fine January morning in 2005, I happened to read an article celebrating the twenty-fifth birthday of (to me) little known Russian tennis player. That player was of course, Marat Safin (And if you didn't see that coming after the post title, YOU'RE A DOLT). I remember being extremely fascinated by this man. I loved the fact that he wore his heart on his sleeve, wasn't afraid to say what he thought. His temper amused me too - he'd break racquets and berate himself in multiple languages... His only stumbling block was his form, which varied as erratically as weather forecasts vary from reality. I decided that I had to see this man play. It was convenient that his birthday, and consequently the article, were around the time of the 2005 Australian open. I saw all of his matches during that Australian open, and was immediately a fan. He defeated Roger Federer in an epic semi-final and the went on to beat the fan favourite Australian Lleyton Hewitt in another fabulous match. I'd finally found a tennis player to support.
It all went downhill from there. Plagued by injury and a lack of self belief, Safin hardly ever made it past the initial rounds of most tournaments after that. I gave up watching tennis too. Roger Federer was too boring and I didn't really like Nadal. Fast forward to a couple of days back, and I see a news article that said that Safin was through to the third round of Wimbledon having beaten Novak Djokovic. That got me excited, I made every attempt to get the time for his third round match. A prolonged search got me a time of 6:30 PM IST, yesterday. But then, one must not forget that Wimbledon is in Great Britain. Thanks to the weather, the match only started around 11 PM IST. To cut a long story short, he won. What excites me is that last night (I stayed up to 2 AM, watching him win) he was the vintage Safin. There was a little bit of everything that makes Marat Safin what he is. There was a racquet thrown, frequent yelling, multiple expressions of disbelief at how he'd been cheated by providence over one shot or the other. Coming up to the what had to be the last game (he only had to hold serve), him leading 7-6, 3-6, 7-6, 5-4, the crowd was going crazy. There was a spectacular Mexican wave that went around Court 1 thrice before he could even start his serve. And then, just to prove that this was of course, the ever erratic Marat Safin, he went on to trail 15-40. Everybody (me included) must have groaned inwardly at this juncture. Could he blow it all? Having done all the hard work, would he stumble now? And he didn't. The crowd went beserk as he took victory from an increasingly panic stricken Andreas Seppi.
Safin is quite the fan favourite. The spectators gathered at court 1 braved chilling weather, seated till after 9 PM local time, to see another Safin epic, and they were rewarded. Safin was gracious enough to sign a multitude of autographs after the gruelling three hour match, and left the court to loud cheers from the spectators. What is it about this Russian that makes him such a favourite with the fans? To be really honest, I think Safin's rollercoaster career appeals to this feeling we all have inside us. The tragedy of unfulfilled genius. Safin embodies that unfulfilled genius. That's why, his win is our win, his loss is our loss, his heartbreak is ours and his jubilation is ours too.
One of the commentators said something about destiny. If ever Safin was supposed to win Wimbledon, it had to be now. Can he win? Of course, when he's mentally fit, it doesn't matter who the opponent is. It just doesn't. He can steamroll the best into submission. Will he? That's another matter altogether, for Marat Safin always plays with a handicap. Only one man is trying to defeat his opponent. Safin. However, two men are trying to defeat Safin. His opponent and - Safin himself. I'm sure there are millions of fans worldwide who'd like to see him overcome himself in the coming days. If he can do that, I truly, from the bottom of my heart feel sorry for his opponents.
Like another commentator said, "It's ridiculous really, that a man of such prodigious talent last won a grand slam at the Australian open three years ago."
It all went downhill from there. Plagued by injury and a lack of self belief, Safin hardly ever made it past the initial rounds of most tournaments after that. I gave up watching tennis too. Roger Federer was too boring and I didn't really like Nadal. Fast forward to a couple of days back, and I see a news article that said that Safin was through to the third round of Wimbledon having beaten Novak Djokovic. That got me excited, I made every attempt to get the time for his third round match. A prolonged search got me a time of 6:30 PM IST, yesterday. But then, one must not forget that Wimbledon is in Great Britain. Thanks to the weather, the match only started around 11 PM IST. To cut a long story short, he won. What excites me is that last night (I stayed up to 2 AM, watching him win) he was the vintage Safin. There was a little bit of everything that makes Marat Safin what he is. There was a racquet thrown, frequent yelling, multiple expressions of disbelief at how he'd been cheated by providence over one shot or the other. Coming up to the what had to be the last game (he only had to hold serve), him leading 7-6, 3-6, 7-6, 5-4, the crowd was going crazy. There was a spectacular Mexican wave that went around Court 1 thrice before he could even start his serve. And then, just to prove that this was of course, the ever erratic Marat Safin, he went on to trail 15-40. Everybody (me included) must have groaned inwardly at this juncture. Could he blow it all? Having done all the hard work, would he stumble now? And he didn't. The crowd went beserk as he took victory from an increasingly panic stricken Andreas Seppi.
Safin is quite the fan favourite. The spectators gathered at court 1 braved chilling weather, seated till after 9 PM local time, to see another Safin epic, and they were rewarded. Safin was gracious enough to sign a multitude of autographs after the gruelling three hour match, and left the court to loud cheers from the spectators. What is it about this Russian that makes him such a favourite with the fans? To be really honest, I think Safin's rollercoaster career appeals to this feeling we all have inside us. The tragedy of unfulfilled genius. Safin embodies that unfulfilled genius. That's why, his win is our win, his loss is our loss, his heartbreak is ours and his jubilation is ours too.One of the commentators said something about destiny. If ever Safin was supposed to win Wimbledon, it had to be now. Can he win? Of course, when he's mentally fit, it doesn't matter who the opponent is. It just doesn't. He can steamroll the best into submission. Will he? That's another matter altogether, for Marat Safin always plays with a handicap. Only one man is trying to defeat his opponent. Safin. However, two men are trying to defeat Safin. His opponent and - Safin himself. I'm sure there are millions of fans worldwide who'd like to see him overcome himself in the coming days. If he can do that, I truly, from the bottom of my heart feel sorry for his opponents.
Like another commentator said, "It's ridiculous really, that a man of such prodigious talent last won a grand slam at the Australian open three years ago."
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