13 things about Nothing

The sea so deep and blind
The sun, the wild regret
The club, the wheel, the mind,
O love, aren’t you tired yet?

The lady is waist deep in cerebral potholes trying to scrutinize Chomsky’s mutterings on linguistic affiliation and its greater/graver impact on culture from a series of essays that were dangled in front of me much like a plate of foie gras in front of Mr Cockney French(read his introduction elsewhere). I can’t resist disagreements and arguments. Its in my DNA. (Someone might sue me for this catchphrase)
It doesn’t shame me anymore to admit that I devote my Saturday evenings to Naom Chomsky and occasionally even Chekov, with enough oil in my hair for Bush to launch Operation Free-dumb on my head and a packet of oreos. But, I have Kings of Convenience. I might even be one(notice how I say “king”). Ahem.

Interesting things have not happened. Speculation is rife about my sabbatical from the current iron-cage I call the Gray Bay aka Work. I might actually go to Sikkim and teach kids if flexi job options are confirmed  in the next 2 weeks or so.
More reading on Tibet and its history ensured that there were enlightening debates and cat-scratch fights with some activist type people. I am, as my boss puts it delicately, a construct of my temperament. And he is a wiry balding man who critically points fingers at other wiry balding men.

My room looks infinitely better with the new additions. I went to a quaint bookstore, bought myself ethnic floppy cushions and a bnw print of an old Delhi relic that could’ve been a fort in its previous lifetime. Precious. Next week I will gather enough courage to actually attend a salsa meet with trained dancers. The anomalous fears of an Indian girl with some Puerto Rican RBCs floating in her bloodstream.

The nick is ACD now, which essentially stems from a standard office joke bout Average Cheap Delhites. Go figure. Actually, you can’t. Especially if you happen to be one!

Did I mention the quaint bookstore? It’s manna. An entire volume of Franz Kafka’s works purchased for a steal. God exists.
Must watch Ratatouille. That’s not an action item on a todo list but a very “plausible” threat(most threats are) by someone who has watched it and wont stop raving bout it. Since I don’t want to lose a limb(and there is a possibility that I might if I don’t listen to him) I will dedicate my Friday evening in the pursuit of an animated rodent championing the cause of meticulous cuisine. What better way to ‘eh?

Amidst culpable absentmindedness that is my memory, The Alternative Frock turns 4 today and that estimate is of course in Sexlon years (the planet that worships Sir Nicoli, who recently went missing with our collective orgasms). Many happy returns of the day, Mz Nitwit. You owe me Malaysian flat noodles with sufficient sprouts and one fortune cookie. Thank you.

I have no political/spiritual/intellectual witticisms to spout for this post. Not that I ever did for the earlier ones.

Oh, yes, We are starting something. And hopefully its not a fire. Or maybe it is. Blame it on the activist type people.
Which brings me to this..

Manager’s GEM for the day –
Contingency Management
– “You are excellent at contingency management. In fact I’d say you are attracted to adversity. Its an admirable trait. You are the first one to dowse fires and you seem to actually enjoy that. If you see a fire, you run towards it. Like a pyromaniac. Its brilliant. Its great.”
This from a Individual Skills/Strength determination session. Indeed, its am Empty Team(MT).
MT = Management team.
Pyromania is now a luscious quality for the resume building process. Inventory just keeps adding to itself.

Note to self – Soccer, more soccer needed. Not connected to anything but just something I need to do. My sports ration has been rationalized a little too much.

Also, I have at least 3 articles to submit by end of next week and those are for 3 different publications, a restaurant review to submit by Friday and at least 2 sessions to attend at two different places and if you live in Bombay then you can try and fathom the distance between Nariman Point and Andheri. All of this of course is just my casual juggling of a hobby which precludes the acrobatic choice of a vocation I ve made and therefore I will be left performing Nada Brahma for the Gods of Time. 24 hours ain’t enough y’all!
It also means(for the 8 and a half people who read me) that posts will be infrequent and sloppy. Live with it. Just like I live with the fact that directors are still offering work to Lindsay Lohan.

Afterthought. I am chased by your weak form every night. What are you doing to yourself? Why?

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~ by iconoplastic on September 4, 2007.

One Response to “13 things about Nothing”

  1. that’ll never explain enough.. but it’s probably a start..

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