Dumbing down. Their doing it to the newspapers. Television is already a victim. Radio died a lifetime ago. The Internet will be next. They'll come one day, soon, with their scalpels. Full frontal lobotomy. What a way to go.

Why do I have to suffer a world of idiots?

These are strange days. I hope I'm old before I die. (Thank you Robbie Williams, you manipulative thief of a singer)

On a side note:
Why is good literature always about despair, hurt, loneliness, pain, cruelty, torture, defeat, animus and such else? Modern good literature in particular. Why do people have to die, fall ill, break, kill, rape, vomit and choke to get us all a good read? What happened to stories about happiness and honour? Heroism? Love even? I guess I need a change in library.

The good old days are gone it seems. More than seventy channels and nothing to watch. Comedy Central doesn't cut it these days. Cartoon Network even. And too many bloody commercials. TV needs a revolution.

Maybe they can have a reality show about viewer disillusionment with too many reality shows.

I want a British accent. Not because I want to sound fashionably British. Or because I want to impress people. No, the reason is much simpler than that. I want to be able to say "Bollicks!" without sounding funny.

For instance, you can say, "Be nice"
"Bollicks!"
"My life is so miserable."
"Bollicks!"
"I like whining. Please let me whine. I'm sad. Boo hoo."
"Bollicks!"
At this point, I remove my Walther and ...

Or consider the following, you can say, "Hello"
"Bollicks!"
"Hi there"
"Bollicks!"
At this point, I remove my Walther and ...

Yesterday, I ate bite sized pretzels with a pizza flavored filling.

It's during thrilling moments like these that I begin to realize the grandeur of human civilization. Dinosaurs ruled the earth for millions of years, flying and leaping and tearing each other down. All they achieved was a hit movie with unknown actors and great special effects that spawned some boring sequels. Humans have been around a fraction of that time and just look at us. We invented nuclear fusion devices, lobotomy, the 80's and pizza. And then one pioneering inventor outdid himself and decided to invent, (Tada! Drumroll!) pizza flavored filling! This blog entry is my humble tribute to him.

I read about a revolution today. Nobody was freed. It's hard to reconcile this with a world of cola wars and XML.

And right about now this blog should be dying a natural death, what with all the indifference that it's had to live with. But for some reason, it refuses to die. Mighty nice of it though, as I got something to discuss.

Let's do some food analysis here. First some definitions. Convergent evolution is an evolutionary process in which organisms not closely related independently acquire some characteristic or characteristics in common. This usually reflects similar responses to similar environmental conditions. (Quoting directly from the excellent wikipedia.org). Can this also work out for cuisines? Specifically Indian and Mexican cuisine. Both are spicy enough. Mexican food has the flat breads. The rice and spicy sauces. So what gives? Convergent evolution? Hah! Mexico been secretly spying on India. All these years! And of course Korea had been doing the same to the Konkan coast. Lots of seafood and lots of spice!

Ah! So nice to get that of my back. Now I guess I'll go back to my attempt to murder this blog.

Another cold and boring day, spent watching dlls crash. (And crashing dlls was the fun part)

Update! It didn't crash! It didn't crash!

They'll tell you it's a time of gentle flakes, floating through the air; a million tiny artists, painting a beautiful blue-gray picture. They'll tell you it's a time of warm fires and cozy beds and snuggling up. They'll tell you it's a time of fun in the snow, romping and prancing like goats on a hillside. They'll tell you it's a time of dazzling sunsets and crisp morning air. They'll tell you it's nice.

Don't believe them.

(Madison, WI -- Currently -14°C(6°F), feels like -19°C (-3°F))

Blogger's block!

Running after a bus is such a futile but fun exercise. The pump of adrenalin. The thrill of speed. And the slightly stupid feeling when you don't catch it. Especially when the temperature is -6°C with wind chill.

'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved.
Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail,
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Suddenly I turned around and she was standin' there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Now there's a wall between us, somethin' there's been lost
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed.
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much, it's doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

I've heard newborn babies wailin' like a mournin' dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love.
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation an' they gave me a lethal dose.
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Well, I'm livin' in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine.
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Bob Dylan - Blood On The Tracks
Copyright © 1974 Ram's Horn Music

Thank you Bob.

Winter never fails to frustrate me. It's too stuffy indoors and too cold out. We had our first flurries yesterday - little clumps of flakes, floating down, and melting on your face.

http://www.google.com/press/zeitgeist.html

Beginning.