Asifhecares - Handling stolen truths

Progress Report 1: Kumail

2010-04-11T20:03:00.026+01:00

The subject of this report will be codenamed Kumail in the interests of the individual’s anonymity. The areas covered are Kumail’s lifestyle, general development and well-being.

First Impressions of Subject

Kumail arrived in the UK wide-eyed and innocent; you could say he was Bambi in human-form. Unfortunately he did not eat grass of which there is plenty, just the food in the fridge of which there is just what fits in the fridge. The initial impression was therefore of a happy-go-lucky youth skipping through a forest stopping occasionally for a fridge feeding frenzy. However, those new to the subject should note that if poked with a stick he is prone to become a rabid nationalist and is a different proposition all together. Though this can be alarming, the fiery rhetoric can be tuned out and it soon fades of its own accord as he starts feeling peckish. Such an episode should last no longer than 4 minutes.

Visit to the Subject’s habitat
After ensuring my poking stick was left in its case at home I journeyed to Bradford “The city of dreams” on the National Express magic carpet ride.

My re-acquaintance with the place was bittersweet. There was no commemorative plaque marking my stay at my old halls of residence. This is largely due to the accidental demolition of Shearbridge Halls in favour of a car park. Whilst weeping for the state of civilisation I searched for Kumail everywhere in JB Priestly library. There was no trace of him so I called him to meet me. When I mentioned I was outside the library there was a long pause on the other end of the line, almost as if he was searching his memory. My head was bowed in my fevered emotional state as the thought of the car park preyed on my mind. The spell was broken as a voice emerged from a red pair of eyes behind a curtain of hair “Asif bhai, hi, are you OK?" Bambi had obviously been burning the candle at both ends. It is a mystery how he navigates his way round the campus with his hair-obscured vision. I think he must have evolved some sort of sonar ability. I noted with relief he had no utility belt, we’d all been worried that if left alone he would indulge in his habit of fighting crime for snacks.

When we arrived at his digs it was predictably deserted and his room was quite neat. It seems word had gone out that the “eagle has landed” or “code red” or whatever army term was taking his fancy to ensure my investigation avoided controversy. The subject stated the kitchen was tidy. This was instantly confusing- mainly because it wasn’t tidy. He absent-mindedly opened the fridge helping himself to cheese marked “Zack” with a grace suggesting the manoeuvre was well-practiced. My hasty suggestion to eat out was accepted (readily). As we ambled towards lunch I subtly probed him about what he was up to when not standing bolt upright saluting the Pakistani flag and belting out the national anthem in an Irish accent. He said he was keeping fit, writing essays, growing his hair and saving money. He directed me to a restaurant and we had some medium spiced tandoori fare. Kumail seemed emotional throughout the meal. Any concern I had soon evaporated when I found his nationalistic tendencies did not extend to the spices found in Pakistani cuisine.

FND
On our return to the deserted halls we continued our chat, if only to break the silence the exclusion zone he had placed around me had created. It turned out to be most illuminating and positive. He mentioned something called the FND, a Muslim prayer group called Friday Night Devotion. He said people there were so ecstatic with spiritual fervour they appeared almost intoxicated by it, even speaking in tongues (more investigation needed).

We had a video call from Kumail’s parents. They were pleased that a person of maturity, judgement and wisdom had called on their son at such a critical stage of the impressionable lad’s development.

Influences
We then encountered Tommy, Kumail’s hall mate who had returned from playing football earlier in the day. He was chatting to a sleepy chap canvassing support for his campaign to become an elected student union rep. Tommy was exchanging pleasantries like “so you’re doing this for your CV then?” I then saw the candidate manage to look both sleepy and uncomfortable at the same time- a feat I had not seen before but resisted the urge to applaud. It was all very relaxing except I was slightly concerned the naked careerism displayed would rub off on young Kumail. Especially considering he is already planning to be a benign dictator of Pakistan and has opened several Swiss bank accounts in preparation. At present these accounts only contain 2 for 1 pizza vouchers but he must not go unchecked- vigilance is the key. The thirst for power must not overwhelm balance and good judgement.

As the evening drew in he seemed disappointed that the study group session he had arranged with his pals had been cancelled, by way of consolation I took him to see a film called “Legion”. It was so terrible I was screaming inside throughout, not least because it gave me flashbacks of the red-eyed demon greeting me in front of the library. All that screaming meant I was tired on our return to base. I took the liberty of shooting a dart containing a tracking device before I nodded off in the back of his neck (note to self: remember to sterilise in future). This enabled me to have data on his movements and heart rate ready for when I awoke. It showed the subject had been oscillating between the kitchen and his room all through the night. The chilling part was that the data appeared to show he was asleep the entire time.

After refusing the offer of Kumail’s artery abusing omlette special I found myself alone in the “tidy” kitchen. Moments later a student called Zack appeared. “You must be Kumail’s cousin?”. I confirmed I was, prompting the observation: “But you’re a fully grown man!?” I did not understand how his mind worked and decided I wouldn’t try. Privately, I congratulated my hormones for having done their job. You never know with all the oestrogen in the water nowadays. On the whole he Zack seemed fine and not necessarily an individual Kumail should be protected from. Zack’s cheese should however be protected from Kumail.

Conclusion
In conclusion it was a useful visit, Kumail seems fine and I am pleased with his interest in Friday Night Devotion. There is no need to worry about whether he is eating properly as he takes this responsibility seriously. His friends seem fine and are steadily turning him into a strange Irish Pakistani hybrid. This probably should be stopped but I am too curious to see the end result of this bizarre experiment. I am sure he said “What's the craic Asif bhai?” when I met up with him. I can’t be sure though, because the hair/red-eye combo took up much of my mental processing power leaving little spare capacity to focus on his Irishness.

2010 Resolution

2010-01-10T16:53:00.002Z

On the train this morning I was just mixing thoughts in my head and I resolved to treat each and every day as a complete fresh beginning in itself, no matter how well or badly each turns out. It felt such a simple thing- a resolution that is easy to remember and fun to keep. It's bizarre how the more familiar you are with the world/locality/routine/people around you the more subtley you are distanced from it. Things slowly become automatic so that you can feel like you are living your life in a kind of dream, you don't see the world as keenly as when things are new like it is to a child or a traveller in a totally different place. A child has perceptiveness but lacks understanding and wisdom, and adult often has understanding and sometimes wisdom but often the perceptiveness is blunted. A music and visual artist called Laurie Anderson, said to be an artist is to pay attention. She said that it's fun to be an artist and everyone should be one. I think the phrase "paying attention" can conjure the image of being in a classroom and concentrating but it doesn't work in when it comes to taking the world in because you can't do that when you have tunnel vision. However lightening yourself from the illusory concerns of the of the past and future lets you be alive to the present rather than going through the motions like driving a car until you park up at the end of the day. Anyway I was mulling this over when I saw an article in the internet edition of The Independent about new gadgets that will be available in 2010. One was called a Life Recorder, it's a pendant to record images, sound and conversation around you as you go through the day like a personal black box. If I hadn't been thinking about being connected to reality earlier, I would never have understood why someone would have decided to market this tool. In my opinion though, it's a bad name and therefore not the best way to market it. By implication, to buy it is to accept life is a confusing haze to be pieced together at a later time, that life is so hectic we may as well give up being in sync with it. Instead, it could be pitched as a super-handy recorder to store thoughts and things which strike us and emerging ideas. Of course to do that, you have to pay attention or be alive to the new present in the first place (which I find slows time down!). It's not to record the now, it's to record what you made of the now.

Life Recorder to record everything does have value for some people. A guy in America called Studs Terkel, a humane man in the US who has sadly passed away used to record everything and treated everyone as new and valuable. When he came to talking to people he made sure he encountered people who were ignored, people who history does not record. He recorded everything for 40-60 years. It is interesting to hear how sounds change and how people speak changes over time. His work is immense and of great renown and a museum has opened to house it.

Intelligent Hip Hop is not an Oxymoron Which is not a Spot Cream

2009-09-07T13:44:00.003+01:00

These videos are serious and a bit funny too. I'll add some funny ones that are a bit serious later.

The Society of Friends International- Defying Conventional Wisdom for over 300 years!

2009-08-23T23:30:00.004+01:00

I'm a member of a group called Society of Friends International (SOFI) which has been set up by 1st generation immigrants from the subcontinent. It’s become very successful with members from all over the world. When it was set up having "International" in the name must have seemed ambitious but it's worked out well. In fact it's so popular that there is a freeze on new members. The idea is simple:

It brings people together for cultural events containing music and poetry and of course food but there has been stand up comedy and dance. Its greatest success are the well-organised and varied group holidays that have attracted many new members and have bonded people together through shared experience. The context of being somewhere new has made it easier for SOFI members unfamiliar to each other to approach one another and chat.

Most attractive to me and many others is the deliberate spirit in which things are done. Life is busy, so it's a vehicle in which valuable things often pushed in the background can be expressed: religious tolerance, the encouragement of inter-generational mixing and the collective exploration of things that are new. The new things tried means there is a strong possibility of failure and discomfort. The stand up comedy that was booked was awkward because it there was almost no respite from taboo-busting material that was often just plain vulgar. However it was tried, something that was totally alien to many members in terms of form and definitely content was experienced, now it is no longer so strange.

The SOFI newsletter is open for anyone to contribute to. It is an outlet for talent, views and humour which the older generation with their history of hard work and struggle are not credited with. Equally valuable is the news of members it carries. Through it joy can be shared and support networks for difficulties friends many be experiencing can quickly develop. This accepting notion of friendship is so simple but so necessary today. Strangely, I can imagine people thinking it is radical, particularly in London which can be very lonely for the young and the old.

The current trend of individualistic pleasure seeking has its place but things have been skewed a little too much towards it. The clearest example of this is the ever-growing festival going crowd, who despite gathering in their thousands to enjoy themselves, do not enjoy themselves together, it is the individual experiences they seek. The drugs allow them to escape from themselves and their rigid perception of things; the people around them are the backdrop- there to enhance the experience rather than to be part of it. It's perverse to me that an opportunity to meet so many different people is passed over and in favour of a very private drug-induced experience. People are so much more interesting. My experience of festivals left me perplexed at how opportunities to have far more potentially rewarding experiences are wasted. People are to be taken sparingly, but binging on alcohol and drugs is far less daunting. The perversity of this seems inescapable.

However, SOFI and I have to be humble as the most radical experiment in friendship are also called the Society of Friends but are probably better known by their alias which is the Quakers. They have been around a bit longer- since the 1650s and now have a quarter of a million members spread thinly across the globe (their presence is most common in Bolivia, USA, Kenya and Britain). They are committed to the principle that individuals must make up their own minds. Though it sounds simple, the seriousness with which they have pursued this ideal meant they have always been an incredibly radical group. It was a bold experiment.

The combination of practising friendship and making space for individuals who do not agree with prevailing orthodoxy or with views of people within the society itself has led to interesting results. It’s a wonder to me that the society has survived. I’d expect the value the group places on respect for individual views to put too much strain on friendship between members; and friendship after all is the central point of the group. Their bravery in questioning things leads them to participate in or support civil disobedience which must take its toll, but they have survived and are still going strong. Another aspect of the group is that it is run on democratic lines and no decision is made until everyone agrees but this has not led to inaction, in fact they have initiated a huge number and variety of ventures. They ignore rank and status, in the past members were called “thou” regardless of titles any friend possessed. Their way of dealing with persecutors was to meet them face to face, surprisingly this sometimes worked, even with fierce opponents who were challenging the very foundations of society.

A clue to their survival apart from their mutual respect is the fact they update their outlook from time to time in response to changes in the world around them. Here’s how they describe the process: “Pressure for revision has always come from the generality of Friends, but each revision has met with resistance from some who had lived with the old words and had found them entirely satisfying. Nevertheless, it has been the experience of Britain Yearly Meeting that necessary change has, despite occasions of great tension, been effected in love and unity.” Their shared faith is also a balm that soothes fractious differences: “Friends find unity in the depth of the silence, when the worshippers are truly gathered and deeply centred on the things of the spirit. We struggle with differences in our meetings for church affairs and here, too, as we consider what action we are called to take over issues that confront us, we know the experience of unity in conviction and purpose. It is a unity which is not to be found in optional attitudes but in discovering the place in which we can stand together.”

The Quakers seem optimistic to the point of naivety in their faith in human decency. It can be seen in their hope that things would change as a result of a few people practising friendship, which was and still is assumed to be a private matter of minor consequence in public affairs. However, it has effected real change and must have lent some flair for enterprise and organisation, some of their achievements are listed below:

Set up the first anti-slavery society
First people to plead for the abolition of the death penalty
First group to propose a free national health service
Initiated prison reform leading to recognition and treatment of mental illness
Went to jail to establish the right of conscientious objectors
First group to invent the idea of offering humanitarian aid to civilians devastated by war (in 1870-1 they brought food and clothing to both sides in the Franco Prussian War)
Collectively awarded the Nobel Peace prize in 1947
Currently fighting for everyone to have the option to divert the portion of tax currently going towards funding war to peace building initiatives
Set up Amnesty International
Greenpeace
Cadbury Plc
Clarks, shoe manufacturer
Barclay’s Bank
Friends Provident
Lloyds Bank
Oxfam
Rowntree’s
Sony (formerly Tokyo Tsushin Kogyo); TTK's founding board chair was Tamon Maeda, a Japanese Quaker.

A company with no Quaker links:

Quaker Oats! (despite having a Quaker in it’s logo)

A pattern of their history is that they never sought control of the organisations they created. This was because they discovered friendship, equality and giving orders were incompatible. This was especially true as organisations grew beyond a certain size. Businesses they formed and controlled were initially very successful partly because they benefitted from the goodwill and trust their integrity engendered- they did as they promised. However this same integrity meant the quality of relationships with employees and customers they sought were incompatible with expansion at all costs or with maximising profit. Most Quakers have now moved into the service and caring professions. Similarly, Pennsylvania founded as a Quaker colony, remarkable for its unusual peaceable attitude towards Native Americans and for its exceptionally democratic government is no longer a Quaker Colony. They lost control of it because their approach meant they were unable to play politics.

The experience of Quakers, whose tolerance of internal disagreement is outstanding, suggests there is no need for friends to think alike, if that is, friendship is seen as an exploration rather than a search for security and if each partner is recognised as having equal dignity. While making their minds up for themselves, they made the listening to the opinions of their friends an essential part of their method, and the ‘Quaker Faith & Practice’- a core publication of the society emphasises that they be of both sexes. This was a radical outlook when Quakers were first formed, unsurprisingly by a man and a woman.

Unfortunately I have no record of them organising package holidays, a strange oversight in such an admirable society..

Nothing says I'm important like mutilated jasmine.

2008-12-04T23:03:00.005Z

I'm off to Karachi so there will be a run on demand for jasmine flowers. God knows how many will die in order to be strewn in my path when I arrive. You'd better buy some jasmine quick before their prices rise on the international market. Just an insider tip.

Well Done Gran.

2008-10-26T16:10:00.006Z

Last weekend we had a fundraiser that also doubled as a night of appreciation for the founder of the charity organisation responsible for it. She's run it for almost 40 years and it was about time she got some thanks. The founder is a family friend who is like my grandmother really, so I got to do a little speech in her honour. It was a promotion from my usual chair stacking, banner sticking and general errand running. I wanted the audience to properly "get her" so I put a bit of effort into it. The reaction was interesting, I was surprised by the bits the audience were keen on and the bits that seemed to pass them by. And I also realised eye contact seems a bit scary for many in the audience, especially for the "youngsters" as they are called, so I ensured it was always fleeting.

My gran was funny as usual. Some of the women who run the organisation are actually a hinderance and cause her some grief. One of them loves doing speeches and thrusting herself forward whilst actually doing very little if any real work. Her speeches are about admin really but go on far too long and can be patronising. Anyway I enjoyed watching my gran taking out her hearing aid for the duration of that lady's chat on the mic. She did it so she wouldn't fume and get stressed- it was a sensible precaution but it made me chuckle. She wasn't having her night spoilt.

Ramadan Scandal

2008-10-05T11:35:00.001+01:00

Major scandal: I've spilt printer ink on my carpet and now need to buy nail varnish remover to try and get rid of the stains. In my frustration at the ink-spillage, there was nothing to do but happy-slap a burka woman during Ramadan. In the ensuing melee I found that she had pancakes in the lining of her religious dress. It soon became clear to me that this sister was snacking during the fast. What was worse was that she had secured the pancakes to her burka using the syrupy topping. Urghh! It was a mess. That's not all: each pancake had a list of top-ten admonishments to give passers-by who look unclean. Yeah I know, I thought they could do that stuff off the top of their heads too. But no, it seems they use flour and egg mix based prompts.It was an unholy mess of sinnilisciousness. And ink annoyance.

By the way happy slapping is not a scandal, it is a natural reaction to the situation I found myself in. Please don't mention my pettiness, give me Argos vouchers instead.

A Dose of Marcus Aurelius

2007-08-05T11:30:00.000+01:00

A Contented Life

If you work at that which is before you, following right reason seriously, vigorously, calmly without allowing anything else to distract you, but keeping your divine part pure, as if you might be bound to give it back immediately; if you hold to this, expecting nothing, fearing nothing, but satisfied with your present activity according to nature . . . you will be happy. And there is no man who is able to prevent this.

Take away the complaint "I have been harmed," and the harm is taken away.

True colours

2007-07-08T21:03:00.000+01:00

I am currently green with envy but blue with scurvy, so am in fact a nice turquoise.

It's just not right.

2007-06-17T18:12:00.000+01:00

Brethern and sisteren, the jewel in Chicken Cottage's crown, Tooting branch, has been shut down. I hope it's temporary, there's a police cordon and the windows have been blacked out, plus a police van is parked outside with a satellite dish on top. Serious stuff. I nervously asked a policeman what happened, he said a stabbing took place last night. He then asked if CC is my restaurant of choice, I nodded "I've got to go to Dallas chicken now". He paused seeming to understand the gravity of the situation, adding solemnly "not the same is it?"

People, why can't we just get a long/eat in peace?

Receptionists havin' a laugh

2007-06-04T23:40:00.000+01:00

When walking into my Dr's waiting room to pick up a repeat prescription for my mum I was greeted by uncontrollable laughter. The receptionists could barely speak so I waited until they stopped. I kept a smile on my face, being serious would somehow be seen as disapproving "look at me, I can keep a straight face, why can't you?"

They didn't stop.

What to do? So I did some voice projection to be heard above the din and asked for the prescription. The receptionists were embarrassed but they couldn't stop, well one couldn't the other was doing quite well. I found myself hoping she would explode into laughter too, it did make me tense, like anticipating awful inevitability injury at the beginning of Casualty does; was she going to rupture some organ by containing the power of mirth?

The main laughing receptionist, knowing that this was strange, stopped long enough to say "I'm sorry there's something wrong with us" and carried on. She had surrendered to the funniness, I think the awkwardness probably made it funnier. She had nothing to lose now. I could empathise, anyway I shuffled off before I spent too long understanding the scene otherwise I'd look like I was staring.

"HA HA HA HA!" I bellowed on my way out. No I didn't, I'm British and I'd have to pop in again at some stage.
Please comment to list all the ways to improve this story.

KiLliNg yOU StoYcAllY

2007-05-28T18:40:00.000+01:00

I am now pronouncing "Stoic" correctly but feel I have lost on some matter of principle. Phonetic breakdown (<-- feel free to use as a one-hit wonder band name) is Stow-ic, I said it how it's spelt Stoyc. But you knew that already my smug phantom reader, didn't you? Why do you mock me with phantom tuts and sighs? A shoulder massage wouldn't go a-miss. Why don't you make yourself useful and make me a fried egg sandwich? Again with the tutting.

Other words that I have mispronounced are "oven" and "pizza" (<-- when I was a very young though, I tell you I gave my teacher and the rest of the kids what for). I soon realised my parents weren't infallible, imitation was now out! I sought consolation but they weren't inflatable either. That's when Marvel comics became of primary importance to me, they all can do stuff in there.

I still pronounce "oven" wrong sometimes and wince in expectation of an immigration officer in a cap and an off-the-shoulder number saying "Passport?"- in an Indian accent mind. So many tuts and sighs! It sounds like a human beatbox here. Quite fooonky, funkayy. Yes funky is allowed to be mispronounced. Free at last, free at last. I am quite enjoying the beatbox. Ahh hah! It's is flailing and sputtering- the phatom reader has no power for I have found it's Kryptonite. You is my tool for entertainment/bitch now. Cor, you're makin' a right meal of it, not very stoyc. Hahahahh, can't even tut now can ya? Excuse me while I fetch my limited edition kicking shoes signed by the Dalai Lama.

Memorable Quote

2007-05-26T22:49:00.000+01:00

"It's part of our complex history that we're surrounded by beauty that was funded by atrocity" -Mark Steel 23 May 2007 "The Independent"

An update for all my fans!

2007-05-26T19:14:00.000+01:00

I had a lovely cuppa today. I still get a thrill as I remember the sun dancing playfully on the surface as I recklessly added a splash of milk and watched it fight,then mingle with the tea, all the while undaunted, I stirred the brew to it's full glory. Due to my devil may care attitude and thin moustache (for I am a bounder) I perched a cheeky Custard Cream biccy on the side. Dats how I'm rollin'.

Hey and to all my girls out derr- I love ya!

Too little sleep fish

2007-02-19T08:56:00.001Z

Too little sleep fish 2, originally uploaded by SifMC.

I went to Billingsgate, to check out how God went wild on the designing board.

Check the rest if you want

Map

2007-01-06T19:28:00.000Z

Jack and the Magic Question Evasion

2006-11-13T19:06:00.000Z

What do you think was your biggest mistake as Foreign Secretary? TAHSIN BHANJI, by e-mail

Good question. The only people who never make mistakes are those who never make decisions.

Tell me one good thing you have ever done in politics. ROB HANSON, Brighton
Here are five: blah blah blah

Apples n Pears = stairs

Question evasion = illegal invasion

A Twee Description About Pangs of Outrage at Foreign Policy

2006-11-13T14:12:00.000Z

I'm a bit better now it's out.
From bitter to better
And to bitter again, no doubt.

Pam Ayres would be proud. If you go to the link you may want to turn off your speakers. Be it on your head. You may want to fill it with lead. I just can't help myself.. MC Sif on da mic and not on a trike... do u like spud u like?

Self-harm and other coping mechanisms

2006-11-01T08:28:00.000Z

Not done a heavy post for a while, I've been prompted to by the news that cases of self-harm are rising, particularly amongst British Asians.

From what I've seen it is often (but not always) early childhood trauma in many cases that lead to self-harming and other kinds of releases like drug addictions and even extremism. The trauma and upset happening at such a young age means the person doesn't know what is going on or see the resulting thought patterns that lead to self-harming etc as a coping mechanism- even if it is more clearly manifested in later life. This makes it difficult to come out of because the person him or herself doesn't understand it. It seems that people going through this often have at root low self-esteem and a perplexing sense of lack of control in some areas of life (a feeling their life is not their own and they can't impact on it by their own action) even though they are intrinsically capable.

Don't worry rat fans yeeehhhh!!!

2006-10-31T17:37:00.000Z

Don't worry imaginary fans of this site I will get round to doing part 2 of "Old Karachi Weirdness".

Now I will ponder why it is necessary for me to hear Roland Rat's voice in my head when I say the phrase "iimaginary fans of this site". Yeeeehhhh!!!

My Documentary on the Nikab

2006-10-31T17:26:00.000Z

If I were to do such a documentary the scenes of my choosing would be as follows:

Nikab assistant scene:
Some assistant teachers in Nikabs are going to extreme lengths to bridge their personal beliefs and society's demands: We film a case of an assistant teacher in a Nikab who hires an assistant herself to give students a rounded education by holding up signs at appropriate moments to indicate what her expressions are. In one scene we see a kid pointing to the sign in a lesson asking "miss what does that say?" The expression card says something a bit complicated like "Somewhat perturbed". She looks at the card, there is a pause, the assistant looks at the teacher then raises a sign saying "Baffled."

Efficient modesty scene:
A Nikab wearer is engaged in a very deep conversation with the documentary maker who is off camera about her beliefs. She happens to have an icream or lolly. She puts this fairly untouched lolly under her nikab to eat it and almost immediately it a bare stick emerges, the lolly had been consumed with freakish efficiency. She moves on in the conversation and discusses modesty informing her decision a friend in a hijab joins her and she gestures toward her and says "For instance I am more modest than her" maintaining her serious tone

Nikab's at Play Scene:
A scene where a nikab wearer tries to dismiss stereotypes by explaining that she does alot of activities with her friends. We join her and her friends in nikabs on a weekend. She is asked:
"so what are you up to?"
"We are doing a re-enactment"
"Of what"
"Pac Man" comes the surprising reply.
Next scene is her and her friends playing the ghosts chasing a friend (pac man) eating a burger in the park.

Empty Scene:
A scene where a woman in a Nikab is assailed by the media asking ridiculous questions. Not thought of the specifics yet may be you could help?

Rip off Scene:
I'd base it on one of the many entertaining "Ask a Ninja" videos:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPXF-iZh488

Ch-ch-changes

2006-10-30T22:47:00.000Z

I am now either a:

ESFP

Which is:

Extroverted (E) 55.88% Introverted (I) 44.12%

Sensing (S) 57.14% Intuitive (N) 42.86%

Feeling (F) 51.43% Thinking (T) 48.57%

Perceiving (P) 51.43% Judging (J) 48.57%

Or a ( I did a longer test):

ESTP
Extroverted (E) 51.43% Introverted (I) 48.57%

Sensing (S) 53.85% Intuitive (N) 46.15%

Thinking (T) 51.28% Feeling (F) 48.72%

Perceiving (P) 51.52% Judging (J) 48.48%

Almost exactly 2 years ago I was:

An ISTJ

Introverted 70% Extroverted 30%

Sensing 51.22% Intuitive 48.7%

Thinking 62% Feeling 37.5%

Judging 55% Perceiving 44.44%

This leaves me CONFUSED, I suppose I recognise elements of all 3. I am stable OK!

If you wanna have a go it's Free Jung Personality Test (similar to Myers-Briggs/MBTI) It's better than most the on-line ones. Percentages are interesting, but descriptions of personality types are done in broad brush strokes, so can be way off the mark, it got one friend spot on though. If you want to see a description of personality types have a look at this: http://www.personalitypage.com/portraits.html

Great letter to The Independent

2006-10-27T15:57:00.000+01:00

Self-powering roads

Sir: I was delighted to read about the possibilities of generating electricity by walking along pavements ("Man Power", 26 October). I have long dreamed of harnessing the pressure of vehicle tyres on roads in a similar fashion. I can see the day when impatient drivers on the M25 can at least be consoled in the knowledge that the electronic sign over their heads warning of severe congestion ahead has been powered by that very congestion.

ROBERT HUNT

WINCHESTER, HAMPSHIRE

Call me a romantic, but I think that's beautiful.

Get yer own!

2006-10-12T12:37:00.000+01:00

Yeah I saw this really charming kid and thought I must get round to getting it. Didn't know the name. Then, last week, I went into me basement to store me crates of Rubicon Tropical Juice Drink and saw I already had five kids. I just never got round to going through my stuff to see them. My little brother told me their names. Flash know it all! Thinks he's soo.. any way apparently my fiance gave them to me ages ago. I still want the original kid though. I bet she doesn't thieve juice like my lot. I blame the parents.

Typical Girls

2006-09-30T17:09:00.000+01:00

Lyrics for "Typical Girls" by the Slits

These lyrics by a girl punk band from the 70's and 80's called the Slits chime with my experience.

Women do seem odd a lot of the time, not having grown up with any (apart from mum gawwd bless 'er) I think I can notice their oddities more. I am glad I aint alone in my impression- and that it's shared by women too!

Ramadahan: A time for reflection.

2006-09-28T14:04:00.000+01:00

Mate: My ex had iftaari in a pub
Me: Reespec'
Mate: Dont say that!!
Me: That would confuse the taliban, I am sure they would say mashallah then slap him.
Mate: That is so bad though
Me: As long as he didn't break his fast with a whiskey
Mate: Yeah but still!! It’s so silly though, but he doesn’t see it, he needs to grow up.
Me: I dunno it doesn't seem bad to me.
Mate: Serious?
Me: Yeah. He is adhering to the fast and doing it in the right spirit without drinking spirit. It's what's in the mind not what surrounding ya. I can see breaking a fast in a strip joint aint right cos you can't avoid consuming the service, but in a pub you don't have to drink…if ya know what I mean.
Mate: I know but you're supposed to avoid places like that in ramdahan right
Me: Wot pubs? Pubs aint haraam, havin' bangers and mash and a pint to wash it down in a pub is.
Mate: OK mebbe im seeing things differently ‘ere.
Me: Apologise to him!
Mate: No cos he’d love that.
Me: I bet you gave him a right ear bashing.
Mate: I did yeah!
Me: Do it! Say sorry
Mate: NO WAY! he will go on about it forever (she laughs)
Me: I feel for the guy, this moany bird on his case.
Mate: Oi! I aint moany. Take that back! Apologise to me this instant!
Me: No, you'd laaave it!

I am not sure what we learnt, apart from: If you avoid saying “sorry” no one has to lose.

Old Karachi Weirdness (Part 1)

2006-09-26T20:59:00.000+01:00

Not able to sleep, the excitement of the new surroundings making me twitch, such a contrast from what I know back home. It’s no good, I stroll out from the alley at the side of the nihari master’s shop and out into the madly narrow midnight streets of old Karachi.

To my left is the weird sight of shiny expensive motors jammed into the street. Expensive non-battered cars just don’t venture into this part of town. Seems some rich kids from Defense colony are up to something. I come to a halt and begin hearing the muffled thud of bass.

A red Merc blocks my path, so I walk around the streets finding an alternative route. There are no street lights just the odd protruding weak light bulb randomly protruding from a shop front. Quite eerie, especially with the distant sound of the chokidaar blowing his whistle, the way it tapers off has a touch of sadness about it. Instead of silence it soon disappears to become repetitive bass, becoming louder with each step. I try not to move in time but it’s hard. Coming closer I see a few more shiny cars, one with its headlights on, sitting on the bonnet are a girl and a boy. As I approach they are framed between the featureless walls of two tired buildings. I can’t help but take a mental snapshot. Click: The carefree rich sharing a cigarette and a joke in their beautiful clothes sitting on a mint 4 by 4 raising them high above the city filth.

As I come close they glance at me and then carry on chatting. Kind of a relief. I walk towards the doorway to check out the party. A small group of lads and a woman look confused, then tense, then angry and I wait for things to develop.

"Eh yahan kya kaam hain tumarra?" Hmm, bit disrespectful. It did make me aware of my creased grey shalwar khameez and their designer gear.
"Just wandering about."
"Ah, you are from London?" I saw smiles now and noticed a surprising number of piercings.
"Yeah. What's going on? Any special occassion?"
"One of our close friends has just come back from the U.S.- he has completed his MBA." Someone interrupts for the sake of it... "And we are celebrating"
"Cool, can I go in..look around?"
"Ya ya."

I ventured in, then realised one of the chaps was accompanying me, he had taken the role of smiling guide. Music was not the soft rock that seemed to be favoured by my cousins, it was big beat, dance and house. Fat Boy Slim and the like. The place was decorated beautifully with fabrics draped here and there, soft colours, seemed much less industrial than the clubs back home. Got some strange looks owing to my clothes but things seemed cool. My guide decided I should meet a friend of his.

"Umar yeh, ek londonstani seh millo"
"Hello, Hello teek taak?"
"Teek Taak"

Once I told him my name he asked what I did there, all the perfunctory stuff. Then he asked if I heard of "Jugarr". My confused look was his cue:

Jugarr is when you pay someone a cut and as if by magic a job considered impossible some how gets done. The girl beside him betrays a little smile but seems intent on just reclining an taking in her surroundings rather than listening intently. Serene and sophisticated. Umar continued..

"An ambassador from America, I mean an American Ambassador had an S-Class Mercedes, one of the only ones in Karachi. As he was driving along, something went wrong with it. So he showed a mechanic. Mechanic said it was impossible to fix, it needs a Mercedes part and there are no Mercedes Garages in Pakistan. The Ambassador asked what he could do. The mechanic said you'll have to ship the car to Dubai, the problem is they'll keep the car for a few weeks. This was no good for the Amabassador. "Look what we can do said the mechanic is use jugaarr. The part costs about 80,000 rupees you give me 100,000 and I will use jugaarr. You will get your car in a few days."

"The ambassador got his repaired car and was pleased and asked how the mechanic did it. The reply was "jugaarr". Curious, the ambassador wanted to know what it was.
"Look it's just Jugaarr" said the mechanic."

"A couple of months later Musharraf visited Bush at the Whitehouse. And Bush asks: "We hear Pakistan has some new technology...what is this jugaarr?"

We laughed, his laugh was surprisingly high-pitched which made me laugh more.

Put in a track/artist you like and get an online Jukebox

2006-09-25T17:11:00.000+01:00

Pandora Internet Radio

Put in the name of a track or artist and this site analyses the chord structures, the way the melody is done, and the mixture of acoustic, electric and vocal sounds and outputs a bunch of tracks that fits, then plays them for you. It works very well and is based on the Music Genome project. The interface is cool too.

Some clever people out there.

I may be annoying but at least I exist.

2006-09-19T18:18:00.000+01:00

Friend: I AM modern!
Me: Do you have i-pod innit?
Friend: No I don't.
Me: Hmmm falling at the first hurdle.
Friend: Go on try something else.
Me: Were you into Sex and the City?.
Friend: Yes, loved it.
Me: K, have you bought Jimmy Choos?
Friend: Nope.
Me: Hmmm. Read cosmo?
Friend: Have done. But not a regular reader of it.
Me: I am sorry you do not fit into the media driven perpective of human females. Therefore I conclude you do not exist and are just a figment of my imagination. Are you a furry elephant?
Friend: (Sigh) Yes well done. You're always difficult.
Me: You is Dr Snufflufflegus innit!
Friend: You're just used to having da last word dats all.
Me: Dats all +1

I then do a prolonged victory dance. It involves much pointing at close quarters. I also imitate a mosquito to add extra creepiness.

She doesn't weep, but does look at her shoes.

SpiderySnake

2006-09-07T12:04:00.000+01:00

Snakes or spiders eh? What do you prefer? Eh!? (poke, poke)

Now this is my approach to this vexed question that has haunted man through the ages. Oh by the way, please do not be worried by my rigorous scientific approach. I shall be using layman's terms to make this accessible to the most casual reader. Back to the issue at hand:

Yeah what if you had this transmogrification device yeah…and like you got this snake and this well hairy spider and then pulled the lever (making sure you put on your goggles).
Then you get this half-snake, half-spider. Having considered this whilst puffing on my pipe, I find I would prefer having the creature to have spider head and snake bum. This is because snake head is more scary, their faces simply look more evil. Therefore spiders are preferable to snakes. Also it would be funny ( in a scientific way) to see those spidery legs trying to keep up with the snake body. So spiders can be funny which makes them score above snakes too. I hope this revolutionary thought experiment approach settles this perennial question.

Drunk Presumption

2006-08-15T09:29:00.000+01:00

Drunk woman: "Oh I know she's your friend and you really like her."
Me: "Yes I do."
Drunk woman: "Listen it aint gonna happen me dear as much as I want it to (repeated several times). I know you're her friend, you're a good friend but you and her aint gonna happen. I'm sorry"
Me: (visibly irritated now, shaking my head) "Yeah alright."

I walk away feeling, hmm I really need a pithy one-liner. I was pleased to walk away all the same though!

When English and Urdu just don't mix

2006-08-10T22:28:00.000+01:00

Lady: "Meh errr...orthopaedic triage hoon."
Me: "Acha phir..... meh chalta hoon."

How to stop questions

2006-08-10T22:24:00.000+01:00

Just say:

"All these questions flapping around me like bats- they make me cower. I am a black beautiful woman and that's it!"

Getting away from it all so you can get closer to it at the end

2006-07-14T13:15:00.000+01:00

It's the first time in some years I have had a holiday, not just a tour of duty and I tell you it works wonders. It was only a short one but it has had quite an effect. I aint never gonna diss holidays. Before, I sometimes couldn't understand the point. I know, I know, don't scowl some of us are late developers.

The point isn't the holiday itself though, yes it is fun but it's actually about how you feel afterwards. You see things much more clearly when returning to normality and you come into focus too.

Brother's Wisdom

2006-07-13T02:00:00.000+01:00

Brother: "No don't approach the council that way. It can come across as adversarial"
Me: "OK I wont"
Brother: "If you do make sure everything you say is absolutely flawless. Any fact that is questionable or incorrect will be zeroed into, whatever else you say however valid will be ignored and your progress will be stopped. "
Me: "Oh is that how the council operates?"
Brother: "That's how everyone operates."

If I could be asked to draw, it could become a cartoon strip.

My Fave Restaurants

2006-05-16T22:27:00.000+01:00

My Fave Beautician Shop.

2006-03-06T19:36:00.000Z

My Fave Fruit Shop.

2006-01-28T09:44:00.000Z

Women and spatial awareness

2006-01-26T19:44:00.000Z

It's very poor. It becomes very obvious in a busy city like London. Either that or they enjoy playing chicken as they insist in charging at you in loud clunking shoes and then swerving away at the very last moment. Also they suddenly side-step out from behind another pedestrian just as you approach. It's so uncalled for. Then there's the trance they enter outside a clothes shop as they come to a sudden halt- unaware of the fact that without some deft ninja moves on my part she would be looking at paving stone rather than those potentially loud boots in the window. I want to put learner plates on all of them.

I'm done now.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/4202199.stm

Time to Move On.

2006-01-23T23:00:00.000Z

Can’t cross or see the lines of hesitation
No choice, so uncomfortably strapped in
Chest tight with twitchy passivity
A responsible member of society
In a warm caf, inertia takes the initiative
So familiar that it tricks the brain
It’s dry, though it seems like rain
Unconsciously he shouts out an expletive

Gets funny looks.
Time to move on.

In the Machine

2006-01-23T22:32:00.000Z

“Finding a pattern it must all fit. If it doesn’t it then it is wrong. In fact it’s scary. I can’t help it, I am addicted to patterns.” She has no opinion on this strangeness she is nodding her head to. She wants to connect with the guy, he’s safe she won’t be hurt with him. As long as she understands the rules she knows where she is. She always needs to know where she is. The embarrassment of this failure in her is too much for her to acknowledge, but the need for certainty and the structure of rules is another pattern. The chance of connection that she is struggling for could have occurred if this thing she could not admit to herself she admitted to him. Her journey it seems is far from complete. Too delicate, the flickering thought is gone, not able to stay alive enough to burn into memory to be of use. She has failed again in a way she can deal with now by simply agreeing with him “Yeah I love patterns. I can’t stand it when something is not in it’s place”. Suddenly aware that this may sound scary and controlling she says “but you know I am not a control-freak. What I mean is I like everything in its correct place so I know where everything is.” She feels stupid, he is going to think she is stupid. A weak nothing-thing to say.

Nothing of this exhausting difficulty his words have put her through is seen by him. He has no idea that until she knows the rules she will never enjoy conversation with him. She doesn’t want to talk to him she wants to talk to his machine the thing that will produce predictable outputs form a set of given inputs. He needs to explain what he said. “ I like to see consistency in things because otherwise I go on analysing why things are not consistent. Like if a person says something and then says something that contradicts or something that doesn’t fit with what they said earlier it bugs me. I need to find out why. How can that person have an identity otherwise?” He is hooked on identity, this is bad news for her, she has a worried look in her eyes that he doesn’t fail to notice. He has given up wondering why she has these sudden changes of expression and tries not to let them affect him. Her groundwork is done, she has warded him off enquiring too much. Until she knows the rules she doesn't know herself.

One looks through curiosity the other comes from fear. It’s already over, too much unspoken and unrealised, it’s going to be another arc towards the end where no one is to blame, may be some fun along the way- but trapped in the machinery all the same.

The unimportance of being nice.

2005-11-07T01:24:00.000Z

I think decent and nice are different things. Decency is a deeper thing and comes from within, a moral code and thinking things through critically taking a view on things without arrogance or lazy dogmatism. Niceness can come from following protocol, rules, with little of ones values being involved. An arms trader can be personally nice and polite to be with, may even follow the motions of his/her religion. I would take issue though if he/she was described as decent. So simple niceness can be misleading, I think the article brings that out. So in my view "nice" doesn't tell you much about anyone. Niceness without decency is a symptom of weakness and I find these people can be dangerous. Cos they will do anything to get approval, be it following orders to torture captives to gain intelligence or simply playing up to the vanity of others for acceptance and personal gain. Nice is only really nice when it comes from a deeper source a sense of right that tries to be true in isolation from ego and desire. Aaaaannnddd reeeeellaaaaxxxx.

This annoying article kind of says the same thing in a bitchy way:

http://www.heartless-bitches.com/rants/niceguys/niceguys.shtml

The Tea Ceremony

2005-01-05T22:39:00.000Z

During introductions between a potential bride and groom there is always the main event: The Tea Ceremony in which the woman brings in Tea to the guests i.e. the prospective groom and his family. This ceremony has been much maligned but I think Tea Ceremonies are top.

I bring a big suitcase to build an obstacle course before the start of the Tea Ceremony. Amongst others there's the see-saw, road cone slalom, slippery lino, hoops (fire optional- avoid if she is wearing long dupatta, saree or long swinging ponytail we don't want a court case). At the end you check the level of tea spillage in the tray by pouring it into a measuring beaker. Note the amount of tea spilt; as you go to other Tea Ceremonies you will build a log of tea spillage amounts. Propose to the most skilful tea balancer as she will be calm under pressure, can probably balance home and work life too, enjoys challenges and most importantly respects tea. You can even take bets beforehand to add spice to the proceedings. You can add complexity by adding bonus points if the tea is brought in cups nicked from PIA flights.

It pays to do your homework, find out if the household favours the use of hostess trollies to serve tea before the ceremony. You may have to widen the see-saw and you could add other tests by bringing your own customised spikey wheeled trolley to re-enact Ben Hur.

Actually I’ve had introductions happen in my house, I wasn’t one of the people being introduced but my duty was to bring the tea. I counteracted the danger of feeling emasculated by wearing a really macho apron from which I cut off all the frills and had dyed black, on the front were stencilled words like “death”, “war”, “fast car”, “I love footie”, “city-slicker” and “big willy”. I think I got away with it, in fact I rather enjoyed it as it was a tea-serving job well done.

Glimpsing a stranger's world

2004-12-25T01:43:00.000Z

Clubbing with some friends in Coventry, I felt shadows being cast. A group of lads were behaving threateningly in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. It was a tentative display of aggression, their dislike of us was only just spilling over their inhibition and fear. As time went on and alcohol was dissolving their various restraints and doubts they began to be more obviously after trouble. It was unclear whether it was a personal thing or they were frustrated and just wanted to use violence to feel better. My concern though was about one of the guys in our group and if would rise to the bait, he was the most hot-headed and was known often to go too far- not knowing when to stop when he got started.

Thankfully a bouncer stepped in before anyone laid a hand on anyone, and did brilliantly. He saw the expressions that flashed across some faces and knew when make a move. He just separated us and seemed to know who needed his attention most. He spoke to us but focussed on my hot-headed friend. In a few words he gave us glimpse into his world; I’m not sure how it happened because it seemed so personal. We weren’t really taking in what he was saying until told us about how he saw his brother stabbed to death in front of him. Blimey. All the tension disappeared because it was rendered irrelevant and insignificant. When he spoke it became clear he had seen a lot of violence and that it held no fear for him, it was just banal. This made him, to me at least, formidable. The most impressive thing was he had a kind of concern, it was so unusual.

I reckon we caught him on a day when he gave us a glimpse into his world which he would never do ordinarily. Strangers do tell strangers things they may not even say to many of their closest friends and family, just because somehow the circumstances are right and/or they know never see each other again.

Out of the Blue

2004-12-19T21:11:00.000Z

I’m walking down a street on a dark evening feeling wearied by the general drudgery of existence. I decided to flap my arms, people around begin to look. I flap my arms again, now people begin to point and kids are heard laughing in derision. The cold scrutiny intensifies until the fifth flap, when I actually acquire the gift of flight.

People I'd share a cell with.

2004-12-08T21:37:00.000Z

Being a crazy maverick and a bit greedy, I’d like to have 3 people in my cell, for two of them I would require a time machine. Anyway they are: Muhammad Ali, Malcolm X and Paul Robeson. All are African Americans who did big things in the 20th century, but that is not really why I choose them. They were all willing to risk losing mass adulation, much wealth and a comfortable secure existence for their convictions; which at the time were deeply unpopular. They were also undogmatic and did not blind themselves to their errors and which shows integrity and intellectual honesty. Now the amazing thing is, despite their scrupulousness and the hardships they went through, they managed to be incredibly good fun to be with, spontaneous, funny and energising.

The mess of us

2004-11-17T23:14:00.000Z

I hate them both, Bush and Bin-Laden. Add to them those who revel in the hell the Bush-Laden double act are both raising: The opportunist unscrupulous criminals who mindlessly loot and kidnap and bomb- killing innocents more than anyone else.

There's someting wrong in how humanity has evolved, it seems the psychopatic bastards seem to rise to the top in most societies. Those who seek power most are the ones most unfit to have it.

Shameful so shameful. It's like a test. How bad are the worst? Would the most obviously blameless and actively caring amongst us be coldly murdered?

Margaret Hasan, we are all aware of is/was an exceptional person in so may respects, she is a woman upon many of the most vulnerable depended and if she really has been killed then there is a terrible poison in Iraq. It's hard to accept people can be corrupted to such an extent due to the war as inhumane, illegal and botched as it is; people cannot switch like this. To me it's like there is a latent sickness that seems to have had an outlet. Of course, it's not just in Iraq, it must be something inside a proportion people all over the world that society is blind to and lets fester as it ticks along

I can't make sense of it as hard as I try. I hope the family and friends find some peace.

Margaret Hasan, Margaret Hasan, Margaret Hasan- don't forget her name, she's more than fading electron beams on a TV screen.

Robert Fisk met her:
http://www.commondreams.org/views04/1020-01.htm

How to mobilise culture, dear.

2004-11-17T09:45:00.000Z

You know the Prodigy video for their tune "Fire Starter", well it was pretty cool and got the kids going. However what if there was something more sinister at work in the video than some geezer dancing wildly with an equally mad haircut and piercings?

Right at the end of the video after much exertion he produces a menacing-type expression turns and walks away, his job is done -- whataguy! All very good and youth-friendly.

Now what if that same scenario was replaced by him doing all the same wild stuff but defying all our expectations of credibility at the end when walking away? His final look at the camera could be a cheesy smile and wink like you would expect in a washing powder commercial or variety act.

When his shoes come into shot they could be replaced by a pair of those fluffy slippers with the cutesy animal face (they're mysteriously popular you know). Somehow the initial vibe would be lost. The video wouldn't go with the song. A fierce tune may become one of those comedy novelty records a la Spitting Image.

It could confuse the minds of people likely to buy the record: “Prodigy, they're cool right? That bit in the video must be some cool postmodernist (at last I've used that word) irony thing, you know just like those style mags say, metrosexual and all that.”

“Ha Ha great one, Prodigy are even cooler than before, for I am now enjoying them at more levels. All part of life's rich tapestry...blah , blah.” There are those who would think “sod it those Prodigy peeps just aren't part of the underground no more, I'm going to Virgin Megafabstore to buy Goldie's CD.”

Whatever the case there'll be questions resulting from the video, and it will be beyond the realms of which piercing hurt most. Having taken refuge in nice comfortable cutting edge Goldie a collective sigh of relief is breathed. Then there he is performing on Top of the Pops the hottest star of the moment, his obvious talent shines through like a really shiny thing, everyone enjoys.

Without warning, halfway through Goldie's thing a troupe of grandmas wearing floral attire like it was going out of fashion (literally) stride purposefully on stage. Forming a line behind the artiste they pause for a moment surveying the mouth-gapey scene around them, it's almost too obvious -- they know what they have to do.

In unison they move their arms in a fashion that TV's exercise maestro Mr Motivator dictates for the over 60's. They move their legs in a precarious way but everything they do is gentle. It goes a bit awry when they falteringly attempt to moonwalk, but nonetheless "this is fun isn't it Doris?" looks are exchanged.

However Goldie's facial muscles have not manipulated themselves in the same way as the dears. There's not even a trace of Doris in there. Instead they have manipulated themselves to display confusion and professional calmness (of sorts). Any winning smile he attempted to produce was again suppressed by confusion and much head-shaking.

At the end of his set one of the old ladies approaches Goldie and a faint "we're going for a cuppa, would you like to join us" has been caught on mic. Before he could give an answer she led him away by the hand. The camera seemed to be lingering on him for ages. He longed to swipe his hand away but that would be bad PR. Soon Goldie was to realise he was glad that he joined the old ladies: for he needed to see what he saw...

Meanwhile all was going smoothly for a while in culture land; TV's regular Punch & Judy double act, called Richard & Judy, were still making effortless links and stuff. Then the Hotel Babylon incident happened.

Jay-Z and Dr Dre were being interviewed by Danni Behr. Then a Tim Westwood style phone-in was put into operation. Jay-Z and Dre were paid respects whilst the Tunbridge Wells massive were given mentions. In the middle of this, a soft voice said hello to Dr Dre and Jay-Z and went on to say she loved all their ballads.

"We don't do ballads lady""Oh well, I do still like you boys""Err, OK keep takin' the medication""Oh I will Mr Dre, thank you for the advice""No problem."With that it was time to entertain the crowd. Jay-Z glided to the mic, proudly displaying his Torso to the laydeez. The crowd could have been implanted with the same device as Oprah's lot. They screamed until they were on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Nice" thought Jay-Z whilst Dre was aching to hit them with his impressive DJ skills. He cued and played an Ohio Players record but some "when I'm cleaning windows" shit was happening. He checked the label, yup Ohio Players.

He played his other stuff but his mind was a buzz with "It's a long way to Tipperary" and the "ha Ha ha Ha" of the laughing policeman. He felt his carefully crafted credibility unravelling. Meanwhile Jay-Z, hit the audience with one-liners about the situation. They loved it. He could have carried on for ages.
Dre had given up, but it was still great TV. While he sat in the shadows, an old lady appeared and slid in a DAT and activated the machine with what appeared to be rehearsed efficiency. It was a medley of beefed up old-time melodies. Another old lady walked on stage to confront Jay-Z. She was wearing seaside shades and Jay-Z just had to laugh in a bemused amused way.

Unfortunately she started battle-rapping in a surprisingly proficient and aggressive manner. Her Jay-Z put-downs were good, too good. The audience was crying with laughter. Her risky references to Jay-Z's chequered past were ruthless.

As the novelty was exploding before him, Jay had to collect his thoughts. He was being humiliated. If he hit her that would be yet another court case- and he'd never live down hitting a 70 year old.

His smile strained as he realised he had no option but to battle rap whilst being accompanied by a bastardised "Roll Out The Barrel." He rapped about old people and incontinence pads but he just didn't have the bite his opponent did. She knew his past as sprayed in the media, her jibes were specific to him. Jay-Z had never seen her in his life and could not focus his attack on her, only on oldies. In a word he lost.

It was media sensation time. In the news, in the arts programs, on comedy shows and, well anywhere that the producers had run out of ideas and needed something to create guaranteed interest.

All kinds of angles were found, even serious ones, such as Panorama's: "Old people and society -- a misunderstood relationship?" There was a crazy no time to rewind feeling as the lady in the seaside shades became the topic of serious conjecture and old Jay-Z had become a figure of fun. Not even Dre would touch him. Jay-Z knew what he had to do: to shuffle off and do a bit of re-inventing. He knew that MC Hammer was the key for what could go wrong, he therefore decided he would resort to using his brain.

Old ladies were springing up everywhere, even across the Atlantic. Their sabotage was becoming more and more inventive. Their infrequent and erratic appearances added more spice to their activities. TV dudes hoped it would be their shows that would be targeted; the publicity would be something to savour. The upshot was that youth culture (and in many cases middle-aged culture) had to take themselves less seriously. Hype was now hollow and was seen as setting yourself up for a fall (White Stripes and Oasis were losing weight through worry). Simply put, it was a content over style thing and Jay-Z realised it.

His come-back didn't sink, and made good progress. His lyrics were original, his flow new and his attitude was now really “real" not just real on vinyl. Culture had got a fucking move on.

Goldie knew what was going on. An angel was smiling on him the day he was led away by the old dear. He was taken to a school gym which the ladies had hired for the evening. There he saw, lined up neatly in rows, a crack squad of senior citizens. On each of their floral uniforms there was a badge emblazoned with the words "Cut the cultural crap. It really is shocking you know."

Very little was said but he knew the score anyway. Graciously he accepted the tea and biccies. Whilst gasping at an intricately woven teacosy, he felt inspired. No, not by the teacosy, but by the way they had turned their status as the ultimate social pariahs on its head whilst helping their cause. Shit, he didn't even mind when one of them asked if he had left Blue Peter yet!

http://www.hamusutaa.net/acen01-2/cool-grandma-2.jpg

The Motherland

2004-11-11T22:56:00.000Z

An Asian bloke said he feels totally disconnected from India- where his parents hail from. An wondered if anyone else felt the same.

For me the UK is my main base because of family and friends. I do still have a link with Pak/India, it's not that strong as I don't live there, but some aspects of life there are so cool- a kind of openness and community there which is very attractive. Plus I'd miss not using the language (Urdu in my case). It has a feel to it you don't get with English and visa versa. Having said that I'm probably more connected to India/Pak of the 60's because that's point at which my parents left.

On the other hand it's obvious to me there are cheeky chalak monkeys in the motherland. They make their own hell that way. On the upside there's such a variety of moustaches that nothing appears malicious. However I'm sure the novelty would wear off if I lived there!

Check this virile specimen: http://underthefirestar.blogspot.com/photos-03/muchhad.jpeg

Ooooooh.................. Aahhhhhhhhh!!!

2004-11-09T21:08:00.000Z

I didn’t go the big do. Sorry to the one reader of the blog who wanted the gossip. I went to a plebby fireworks display; it was set to classical music. So I suppose it wasn’t that plebby really. A friend and I went on some adrenalin-releasing fairground rides which was a welcome diversion. I regret not taking any pictures. The lack of dodgems was disappointing. Anyway I might go to the next poncey party as I’ve been invited again. But you know TV’s quite good that day. I’ll live another day.

I was trying to tell a co-worker off today for not locking up a valuable digital video camera. She said: “well why don’t I just lock away all the computers, they’re valuable too!” I liked her style. Blaady moral relativism- sending this country to the dogs. No wonder Bush got in. Hippies everywhere! I think I would make a rather good retired major. I think I will apply some sand-paper to my cheeks so they are the requisite level of ruddiness. If you are a retired general may be you could give me some tips.

2004-10-28T21:54:00.000+01:00

There's so much to do and so little time, but it's so hard to begin to do stuff. I am feeling guilty for not blogging for so long. Not sticking at it. What's life without drive? It's a living death. I've blogged phew.... the guilt has gone. This was supposed to be a pleasure! I think my last post took it out of me.

A mate and me have been given free tickets to this really exclusive bash. Celebs, models and me in my Burton's "must impress the judge in court" suit. Didn't think I would go before but now I think I will to see a swank-fest first-hand. It's been organised by this geezer I'll put his link here when I find it! Hey at least I've blogged!

Existential crises, yeah we all have ‘em.

2004-09-04T23:46:00.000+01:00

You know I threatened to get all heavy on yo ass. Well this is it (Run DMC). I am clinging on to this blog with my finger tips and breathing life into its flaccid body. Yup at the same time, clever trick eh?

I hope this entry serves as consolation for any passing reader who needs it no matter how slight. I'm not sure it works on me, it may at some level, but don’t let that put you off.

OK what do we want? Yup good guess, we want “The rapture of being alive” a phrase coined by Joseph Campbell. Can we get there when coping with everyday reality can be so challenging? Well may be if we accept there is no one meaning of life waiting to be discovered. Humans “give” meaning to their existence.

Some optimists say that all our lives are contributing to a higher purpose and an unknowable reality is sustained by our existence and eventual death. That’s cool, it’s just it doesn’t stop the brain from wondering about the weirdness of being here and making the best of the time during this existence. The brain is well annoying. I think it is nice to have the thought that in a later unending existence the unknowable becomes clear. Though someone always has to put the spanner in the works by saying what if the next existence, if there is one, continues to be as perplexing the current one but never-ending

What our real fear is that we never really savour or consummate our being in time. It’s a not unusual (Tom Jones) to feel out of phase with life it’s as if time as we live it is something we cannot fully experience. I guess that’s why photographs are not seen as an anachronism despite the advent of the moving image.

Some say what is significant in life, and what makes us feel our own lives are significant, involves participation in the creative acts. I warm to this one.

Meaningfulness in life does not mean there is happiness in life and visa-versa. You need both to define the good life. A guy who was into having a mission in life was George Bernard Shaw and he said the following in an interview:

“This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognised in yourself as a mighty one; the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. And also the only real tragedy in life is being used by personally minded men for purposes which you recognise to be base. All the rest is at worst mere misfortune and mortality; this alone is misery, slavery, hell on earth; and the revolt against it is the only force that offers a man’s work to the poor artist, whom our personally minded rich people would so willingly employ as pander buffoon, beauty monger, sentimentaliser, and the like.”

A bit harsh that, circumstances can have their own tyranny which may have little to do with a regime you live under. “Mere” misfortune could be grinding poverty or painful ill-health. It is well put though and can be inspiring for some. He had a way with words.

If you know what you are good at, what you derive pleasure from (and not everyone does) and it causes no harm to others, go for it. You are fortunate, may you fulfil your potential. Purpose and direction can come in many forms though and it’s good not to be slack and recognise why you do what you and apply some critical thinking. Are you being obedient to and gaining status along with other goodies from the wrong people or ideals in order to pursue your thing. Basically, are you making things worse or better? This is one of Google’s founding principles: “Don’t be evil.”

Weirdly, some people do find relief through the forced purpose and direction dictated by tyranny. The minimising of choices rid them of uncertainty and existential anxiety, which is why many still mourn Stalin as cruel as he was. This force of nature business that Shaw mentions is pretty cool and some manage to seem like one, Muhammad Ali always springs to mind. In reality people, Ali included, have too many sides to them to become a force of nature in one particular direction be it compassion or aggression. I like this, life is richer as a result.

You could have ignored all the above and read this paragraph:

The first requirement for preserving and perfecting life involves allegiance to the potentialities in us that constitute our natures within us. We cannot truly be ourselves if we drift with the times, passively submit to other people’s desires, or refuse to face up to what we want and what we do. The acceptance of our nature which does not mean compliant acquiescence in faults we can remedy is essential for living a meaningful life. It is because we accept nature we can improve it. We show respect for what it is even while we alter it in pursuing ideals. If you do this things should feel pretty good, as long as you are not too selfish about it; getting the balance right is not easy. Not everyone is at a point where they have a clue about their potentialities or natures. If you do, think yourself blessed, and don’t squander the blessing. Try and unlock other people's natures along the way. This is what good teachers who are beloved by old students are remembered for. It’s a great thing to do.

OK now for the confusing stuff. We’re getting elemental, life and death, the above wouldn’t have any relevance for the suicide-heads but this stuff would be more consoling:

An ideal many saints and mystics have tried to attain is to be able to love the entire universe- a tall order. Can you love things you don’t understand? Or a virus growing inside you that may kill you. If we cannot love all things, a guy called Irving Singer says we can at least treat them as candidates for love. Now the stretch in ourselves: We have no reason to love this virus. It affirms its need to live with the same urgency we feel in wanting to destroy it. However, in realising that we attack it merely because we want to stay alive, and not because of any supreme legitimacy on our part, we recognise its equivalent claim, accept it as a kindred being, and thus identify ourselves with it to some degree. By extension the cosmos also becomes a candidate for love. May be this will help to deal with any big tragedy that may befall us. Pretty major people have echoed this way of thinking Nietzsche called it amor fati, Santayana decribed it thus: “to love the love in everything.” I told you it was a stretch. One I cannot make, or have not been driven to make and am unsure whether I would want to.

The implication is that all things love themselves in their passionate focus on survival and perfection of their being. We cannot fathom all the varied and conflicting interests of living things, many of which seem self-defeating, but we are capable of imagining something equivalent to what we experience: will to self-preservation.

In making this act of acceptance it is hard to refute arguments of those who have renounced eating meat or animal products for ethical reasons. There is at least some value or respect bestowed towards nature even when we try to annihilate it. Essentially when you are wondering at and loving the love (self-love) in all things you give them value. Irving Singer says that if we neglect bestowing some value to things around us to this we lose out on creating a more significant life for ourselves. I am not sure how, probably because you begin to see value on a more basic or real(?) plane. My man Irving seems echo this:

“By pursuing this ideal, like religion we add a dimension to our experience beyond our practical or material necessities. It enlarges our being from self-regarding beings to that much of nature that seeks to protect and perfect life. Scarily small and isolated as we are, we in this way can establish our oneness with the rest of universe.” Apparently this mode helps those that believe, understandably, that nothing matters. This is because life will seem and hence will be more significant to him. I paraphrased a bit but whatdyareckon?

This reminds me of sherpa Tensing and Sir Edmund Hillary when they “conquered” Everest. Hillary’s reaction to this achievement was having a drink with his mates, cheering and proclaiming“we knocked it’s bloody head off”. Sherpa Tensing and his fellow sherpa mates were much quieter, they were humbled, offered prayers and felt a connection and respect for the mountain. Something that one of Edmund’s mates was struck by and impressed with.

Philosophy may help to cleanse our thinking, but only in experience and stumbling through life and reflecting on our moments of joy and despair, can we learn to live. It’s never bloody easy is it? Well if you have managed to read all this and maintained some interest I congratulate you (“You knocked it’s bloody head off!”). It means not only do you wonder and think, but that you are not hungry and you have a roof over your head.

Have a go it's interesting..

2004-09-04T18:00:00.000+01:00

Free Myers-Briggs-Jung Personality Test

It seems pretty good to me. Try it, it's fun and be honest it tells you your personality type. So you can catergorise yourself, producing shiney new shackles to free yourself from.

I am an ISTJ
Introverted 70% Extroverted 30%
Sensing 51.22% Intuitive 48.7%
Thinking 62% Feeling 37.5%
Judging 55% Perceiving 44.44%

Broadening the mind and breaking the behind

2004-06-03T21:52:00.000+01:00

Going on long bike ride with some friends this weekend, looking to see if the NHS do arse transplants for afterwards. There's probably a shortage so I'll probably end up with a baboon's shiney hiney. If there's nice scenery I'll put pics on the blog. If not I'll put them on anyway just for the thrill.

Went to see an opera last week ('Barber of Seville') so I am a bit more poncey as its after effects are still with me. I have developed a deeper affection for cornettos. I left the theatre with the thought that there was surprisingly little cutting of hair. In my next blog I will alienate my blog audience by going all heavy and talking about the meaning of life. It may be disappointing.

Since my audience is me, this entry will serve as an experiment to see whether someone can alienate themselves from themselves. I am sure it is possible. May be if you keep doing things against your conscience.

Cor I've really built up this future entry, I can't wait to see what I write.

Here's an interview with a group who are more interesting than most musicians.

FDM interview

Untruths told about Iraq

2004-06-02T06:43:00.000+01:00

The following is from 'The Independent' newspaper. It speaks for itself really.

The Lying Game:

An A-Z of the Iraq war and its aftermath, focusing on misrepresentation,
manipulation, and mistakes
01 June 2004

A Mohammed Atta. The Bush administration claimed that a meeting between the lead hijacker of the 11 September attacks and a senior Iraqi intelligence
officer proved a connection between al-Qa'ida and Saddam Hussein. But there
is no evidence such a meeting took place.

B Bush and Blair: The two leaders have reacted strongly to all suggestions
they misled their respective electorates over the war, and maintain time
will prove they were right to go to war. Both, though, are suffering poll
difficulties, as problems in Iraq become worse, and each needs speedy
improvement to shore up his position.

C Ahmed Chalabi. The leader of the Iraq National Congress, who is a member
of the Iraq Governing Council, is now accused of having duped the Bush
administration, as well as the media, into believing that Saddam Hussein
represented a direct threat to US and British security.

D Dollars. Between 1992 and the US raid on Ahmed Chalabi's home last week,
the US government channelled more than $100m (£55m) to his Iraqi National
Congress. The money may have been a motivating factor for defectors to say
what they thought the Americans wanted to hear. That funding has now been
stopped.

E Mohamed ElBaradei, the Egyptian head of the International Atomic Energy
Agency, exposed as unfounded many of the claims put into the public domain
by the US administration. The head of the UN weapons inspectors, Hans Blix,
also challenged the White House claims.

F The claim that Iraqi weapons of mass destruction could be deployed within
forty-five minutes of an order was a key plank of the Government's pro-war
argument and appeared in its September dossier of 2002. We now know that the
discredited claim - which applied only to battlefield munitions in any
case - came from the party of the caretaker prime minister of Iraq: Iyad
Allawi.

G Andrew Gilligan, defence correspondent on the BBC's Today programme,
reported that the Government had "sexed-up'' Iraq's weapons capabilities. On
one occasion, he suggested that it had done so deliberately. Events since
suggest that case for war was exaggerated. Gilligan lost his job in the
fall-out.

H Khidir Hamza. The man known as Saddam's bombmaker is now acknowledged to
have tricked the administration into believing he had more knowledge of
Saddam's nuclear programme than he actually did.

IWas Ahmed Chalabi an agent for Iran, which used him as part of a plan to
manipulate the US government into overthrowing Saddam Hussein? Washington is
holding an urgent investigation into the claim.

J The Joint Intelligence Committee was accused of allowing itself to be
manipulated by Downing Street in the run-up to the war, and of firming up
conditional language in the key September dossier on weapons of mass
destruction.

K David Kelly, the MoD weapons specialist at the heart of last year's
controversy, committed suicide three days after he denied to the Foreign
Affairs Committee that he was Gilligan's source.

L Langley. The CIA headquarters, which was regularly visited by the US
Vice-President Dick Cheney as he sought to pressure the intelligence
services into exaggerating the Iraqi threat for political reasons.

M Mobile biological labs. The alleged discovery of biological mobile labs
for the production of biological weapons was held up after the war as proof
that Iraq continued its illegal weapons programme. But the chief UN weapons
inspector, Hans Blix, said there was no proof of their use.

N The Iraqi scientist Hamdi Shukuir Ubaydi buried documents related to
Iraq's nuclear programme in his garden, and they were found last June in the
search for WMD after the war last June. However there was no confirmation of
the US claim that they were the "smoking gun" the Americans were looking
for.

O Oil-for-food scandal. The recent accusations that Saddam diverted billions
of dollars from a UN humanitarian programme, and paid countries for
political support, came from documents distributed by aides of Ahmed
Chalabi. US and UN investigations will attempt to uncover the truth.

P The Pentagon hawks, Donald Rumsfeld, his deputy Paul Wolfowitz and senior
adviser Richard Perle took their country to war on a false prospectus.

Q The Daily Mirror published photographs which it claimed showed members of
the Queen's Lancashire Regiment abusing one of its Iraqi prisoners. The
photos have now been dismissed as fakes. But the regiment remains under
investigation over the death of Baha Mousa, who died in custody.

R Karl Rove, president Bush's political adviser, is accused of "outing" the
CIA undercover agent Valerie Plame amid the furore over the Niger uranium
claim. A grand jury is investigating the leak.

S Bush and Blair insist there will be a transfer of "full sovereignty" to a
caretaker government. But the appointment of Iyad Allawi, who has close US
and British links, as Prime Minister raises questions over its independence.

T The New York Times last week issued a mea culpa for failing to question a
Bush administration leak relating to aluminium tubes reportedly being used
in Iraq's nuclear weapons programme. The IAEA demolished the claim, a key
prop of the White House case for war.

U Iraq's alleged attempt to smuggle uranium from Niger was used by the
allies as proof that Iraq was still attempting to build a nuclear weapon.
While the Bush administration now admits the relevant documents were forged,
the Blair government is still sticking to the claim.

V Iraq was said to hold stocks of VX gas, the deadliest chemical agent known
to man. Not a single millilitre has been found.

W World Trade Centre. According to opinion polls, a majority of Americans
still believe Saddam Hussein played a role in the 11 September attacks, a
view long propagated by the Bush administration, particularly Dick Cheney.

X Camp X-Ray, now Camp Delta, is the US prison at Guantanamo where prisoners
from Afghanistan were flown. But its practices were adopted at Abu Ghraib
jail in Baghdad. The ensuing scandal has tarnished Bush's presidency.

Y Yesterday, denials by Dick Cheney that he no longer had any association
with the Halliburton oil services company, where he was formerly CEO, were
under new scrutiny.

Z Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, accused of beheading the American Nick Berg , was
said to be the link between Saddam and Bin Laden. No such link has been
proved.

Hello , I hope you like "The Simpsons".

2004-05-31T19:56:00.000+01:00

Cos I do. Hmm let's see if I maintain an interest in blogging.