Comics!

Yes I spend most of my time online reading webcomics. They're the new rage, and I like to get with the times. Ok fine! I'm a geek! So anyways, I've decided to give you a comic review list. What more can you ask for, huh?

Note: The comics are listed in the order they appear in my IE favourites.

Bottle Rocket Chronicles (***) - The detailing of the mundane existence of a super hero. Bottle Rocket is a super hero with a family, and he's funny too. Good for a giggle.

White Ninja Comics (***.5) - Psychotic humour is an interesting tool to employ in a comic. White Ninja Comics are really badly drawn, but that's part of the whole deal. White Ninja can be rather gross on occassion, but it's almost always hilarious.

Ctrl+Alt+Del (***) - I guess most people would call this another Penny Arcade clone, but this was the first comic I read with the two gamer roomies theme, hence the slightly high rating. Decently funny, and rather l33t.

Red Meat (*****) - Ah, this one is pure psycho hilarious. Max Cannon's artwork is both minimilistic and detailed at the same time. He uses the black and white medium to the fullest. The characters in the strip have well detailed personalities, my favourite being Bug Eyed Earl.

Beaver and Steve (****.5) - BnS uses the routine two character theme, but what characters they are! I love the artwork on this one too, it's very different from what you see around. This comic by James Turner is a constant laugh riot.

Last Kiss Comics (****.5) - This one is just brilliant! John Lustig draws his comics in the style of the cheesy American comics from the 60s. The captivating factor of this comic is the discordant combination of the romantic artwork and the totally unromantic dialogue.

Scotts Mind (***) - Mostly single panels, this comic is vaguely Larsoneqsue, sometimes predictable, but generally quite funny.

Banurgle (***.5) - This comic is just pure SICK! But if you can stomach it, it's despicably hilarious! The illustrations are also totally bizzarre.

Satan's Salvation (*****) - another of the early webcomics I read. This one is not for you if you're even vaguely Christian. It's filled with (non)Christian gags, from Satan's perspective. And while I'm staunchly heterosexual, Lucifer looks real cute! Highly entertaining.

Bunny (*****) - Bunny is cute and amusing. The unique artwork and bizarre settings make this single panel a great read!

Little Gamers (***) - The two gamers storyline again. This one has very simplistic artwork, and the jokes are pretty neat!

Simulated Comic Product (**) - Nice comic, but it's missing something that I can't put my finger on. Some of the strips are dull, some are pretty funny!

John and John (****) - This comic is straight out perverse. Lotsa deviant jokes and uproarious too. Another unique drawing style by this chap who calls himself D!o. It's very, very funny! He also has two cool fundas on his site. One, each of the strips is a link to a webpage that is linked to the punchline; and two, there's a textfield where you can enter the comic number and go straight to that comic, it's very useful.

Qwantz (****) - This comic uses the exact same 6 panels for all the strips. Initially it's rather annoying, but if you can get past that the gags are super funny!

Rabid Monkeys (**.5) - Another in the long list of gamer webcomics that you find online. This one is drawn in an anime style. While the theme is quite cliche, the addition of the character death manages to just about pull it out of the routine gamer comic trap. Some of the gags are quite neat though.

Nozzman (**) - A single panel strip. This one is highly inconsistent. Some of the jokes are really hilarious, others are barely laughable.

Rehabilitating Mr. Wiggles (****.5) - Pure vileness, this one is! Barfable hilarity! The drawings are really cool too!

The Outer Circle (*.5) - Straight webcomic, average humour with a cliched style. Features the cartoonist in the lead role and a couple of other backing characters. It's slightly leet.

The Morning Improv (*****) - By far the most brilliant comic, by one of the most innovative artists, Scott McCloud. The comics are all stand alones, except for Meadow of the damned, which is my favourite. Browse through the rest of Scott's site too, cause it's just brilliant!

Assorted Miscellanea (***) - Not exactly a comic in the pure sense of the word, but random stuff by Thomas Meade. The artwork tends to be a bit messy, but it's made up for by some brilliant gags! Tom, I'd like to see your old comics archived on the site too!

Penny Arcade (**) - I think this one's supposed to be the original gamer webcomic. I didn't really get into it, and PA fans are probably gonna kick my ass bout the rating. But that's what I thought.

Cup of Suffering (***.5) - It starts of very ordinarily along the two roommates-plus-assorted-characters lines, but this comic picks up some great momentum along the way. The drawings are really nice in and some of the strips are side-splitting hilarious!

Ornery Boy (**.5) - I somehow didn't get to into this one, but it's nice and dark and the site's pretty nice.

Able and Baker (****.5) - Very standard in terms of the two character theme, but Able and Baker are an outstanding comic duo, very near the likes of the inimitable Calvin and Hobbes. The jokes are killer!

Her! Girl vs. Pig (***.5) - This one is just weird and whacky. I quite like it!

A Lesson is Learned but the Damage is Irreversible (*****) - Even if this comic weren't good I'd give it a high rating just for the long name. Some of the early strips aren't too great, but they get better, it's a rather new comic and I'm sure it's gonna get cooler. The most amazing thing bout this comic is the artwork, which is just mind blowingly awesome!

Boy on Stick and Slither (***.5) - Another crazy comic. Very similiar to Girl vs. Pig, but the landscapes and scenarios are bizarre! Quite enjoyable.

Butternut Squash (*)- the usual story about two guys, who need sex and a life, and surprise, surprise the characters are the authors of the strip. The comic is occasionally funny, occasionally gross. The only decent thing bout this one is that the artwork is pretty catchy in a webcomic sort of way!

Nazi High (**) - a rather ordinary comic, but it's readable, with a few nice gags. Follows the usual character webcomic soap style.

Perry Bible Fellowship (****.5) - Tangential comics these are. Some are really whacked, and some creep me out. But most are just darn good hilarious.

An anecdote of undisputed interest

A friend once asked me if I was a bigot.

"A bigot?" I replied, "of course not. Only women or Christians would be bigots! I absolutely loathe, hate, detest, abhor and despise bigots! "

Commentary on the Departure of an Anglophile

The original scoutmaster has left the building.
Eclectic.
Wood chitty grub, wood shitting grub, woochitty grub, witchetty grub? Leave it to the Golden Fafa.
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
Jesus Christ?
Esoteric collector of journals, scraps and other documents pertaining to memory.
We glossed over music, magazine, women, book, and walked with the upper echelons of faith.
Obnoxious. Romantic sop!
Striving for perfection within the boundaries of complacency.
“Watcha beddy saying, chile. That Winston’s baay, lotsah puhlitcal clout, ‘eel beddy colt you, chile”
Nelson Mandela song plus Deep Purple plus Kannada text book plus graduation produces lachrymose condition.
(laughter)
The best way to remember anything is in Chronological order, and the same goes for the Rolling Stones.
Jack Daniels and the dipsomaniacal challenge.
Malluland drive calling Communist, Marxist.
Jojo left his home in Tucson, Arizona
In the throes of Bibliophilic passion, our hero did fall…
Watership Down, The Silmarillion, Candy is Dandy, Foundation and Empire, Mother.
The Empire strikes back? Princess Leia.
Tear jerker of the rightwing Christian fanatics!



Bah!

Another Account of Spurious Reckoning - 2

After dinner small cups of a warm, sweet liquid, which tasted vaguely like coffee, were passed around. As we sat sipping on it, some of the men started playing some rather peculiar instruments. The sounds of stringed instruments, skin drums and vocal cries filled the air. The younger women joined in with singing and dancing. They gracefully twirled around, did backflips and leapt in the air in smart synchronisation. The two girls who had served us dinner were also part of the dance. I held the gaze of the shorter, more petite one.

After what seemed like the main routine the girls split up and went to their huts. We were initially disappointed, but Prantis Bababa came up to us and told us we could share the girls’ huts that night. Apparently they had invited us during the dance, but their subtle customs were lost on us.

The remainder of the night was fascinating in the least. Scheznik and I were in separate huts. The girl I was with, whose name was Lehaka, proceeded to undress me, all the while babbling away in Ablalai, while I nodded appreciatively. She then sprinkled various fragrant leaves and flowers around the room, the floors of which were a soft carpet, before undressing herself. She continued chattering in the local dialect as she lowered herself over me. It was a liberating night of exploration and conversation that I could not fathom.

The following morning we were woken early and joined the men folk as they trekked to the quarry. The sun was already rather high in the sky before we reached the quarrying yard, which was filled with gleaming, crystalline rocks. There were already men hard at work, and we were given the necessary implements and shown how we were supposed to carry on with the excavation.

After a hard days work, all we had to show for our troubles were a few small lumps of crystalline rock. The rock was not very easy to chip away, and our arms ached from the constant work. As the sun started to set, we made our way back to the village. Here we were shown the cube farm – a large room where they went about the actually ‘cultivation’ of the cubes.

Here the women went about sorting the crystals the men had brought back into various sizes. There were huge vats around the room, filled with various liquids, within which the larger chunks of rock were dissolved. The resulting solution was then, poured into various cube moulds. The women would carefully polish one of the smaller crystals and this was dipped into the liquid in the cubes by means of a string. The crystals would be left in the solution for a few months. We looked around the farm, and saw cubes in various state of growth. Once the entire liquid had crystallized the cube could be carefully extricated and used in the telling of fortunes.

Prantis Bababa made one of his usual magical appearances, and gave us a guided tour of the farm. He explained how the different liquids from which the crystals were created gave the crystal different properties, how some liquids crystallized faster than others. At this point, Scheznik interrupted and asked Prantis Bababa, what the quickest crystallizing liquid would be. Prantis Bababa showed us a thick, silver liquid, which looked like mercury.

“I say we make our crystals from those, so we can leave quickly”, said Scheznik”

“Uh, tarry a moment” Prantis Bababa said, “are you sure you want to cultivate the crystals that quickly”

“What properties will this liquid give the cube?” I asked.

“One would not be able to tell the future” said Prantis Bababa, “but the cubes that result from this blend are always highly entertaining.”

“How long would it take?” asked Scheznik.

“It is an overnight affair!”

“That settles it” said Scheznik, “I’m getting myself one of these.

“Don’t you want to try out different ones Scheznik?” I asked.

“Well you can wait if you want to, but I have a couple of women waiting for me back in the city!”

Scheznik is Scheznik, so I shrugged and we went about setting up two moulds, with the viscous liquid, and set the crystals in them. Our cubes would be ready the next morning.

Dinner was served as usual. This time Scheznik and I decided to help out with the cooking, much to the amusement of the village women. We served out the food and handed plates out to people, and joined in the dancing too. Everyone was thoroughly entertained!

After another great night, this time with some of the women we had made the vegetable gravy with, we were excited to see the cubes we had cultivated. We made our way to the cube farm, and went to where our moulds were kept. Prantis Bababa was already there.

“You are here” he said, rather pointlessly.

We looked at the moulds; the liquid had solidified, into a translucent, gray cube. With the help of Prantis Bababa, we carefully removed the cubes from the containers. They were unbelievably light. Scheznik actually threw his cube in the air a couple of times. One could look through the cube and see distorted figures of the objects on the other side. Streaks of blue and gray ran through the cube, they were pieces of art, avant garde nonetheless.

“So how do we use these?” Scheznik asked Prantis Bababa.

“One must look into it and concentrate, each cube works differently for different people, depending on what you think of.” Prantis Bababa replied.

We decided to set off back to the city, if we left now we would make it in time for dinner. We bid our hosts farewell, and headed back to the little room where we had left our bags. After changing back to our old clothes I started packing the cubes.

“Wait, don’t you want to try them out?” asked Scheznik.

“Now? Shouldn’t we head back?” I asked.

“Come on, let’s see what our cubes do.”

“Alright, lets.”

So we kept our cubes in front of us and peered into them. I stared through the cube, but all I could see was a skewed perspective of the room.

“I don’t think it’s working.” I said, turning to Scheznik, when he vanished in front of my eyes.

Now I was left not knowing what to do, and Scheznik had disappeared too. I continued looking into my cube trying to focus, wondering where Scheznik could have gone. The quarry, the farm, the forest. The forest? As I looked through the cube, I noticed the distorted refractions slowly morph from the pale brown of the hut to various shades of green. I looked around and found myself in the middle of the forest we had crossed but two nights ago.

“Scheznik?” I yelled.

There was a rustle in the bushes near by. “Scheznik, is that you?” I asked. Unfortunately it was not, a large boar walked out of the bushes. It grunted when it saw me, and prepared to charge. I turned around ready to run, when I noticed that I was attired in battle gear, and had a broad sword in my hand. The boar was already making its way towards me. I stepped aside and swiped at it with the sword. The boar shrieked in pain, and collapsed, then it disappeared in a puff of smoke, and a gold coin remained where it had fallen.

I picked up the coin, it was real gold, and rather heavy too. I put it my belt, where I noticed I also had a dagger, and some vials of various liquids, marked ‘life force’, ‘mana’, ‘heat’ and so on. On my back was a large shield, which I tried to use, but the broadsword was too heavy to wield with one hand, so I had to secure the shield to my back once more.

“Scheznik!” I called out once more.

Another rustle in the bushes, this time it sounded like something much larger than a boar. I gripped the sword tight and readied myself for whatever would come through. Scheznik jumped out of the bushes into the clearing, he was dressed in pretty much the same way I was, and he had a short staff in his hand.

“Darius!” he said, “great you made it!”

“Yeah, though I have no idea what’s going on! Is this the forest we have to cross?” I asked

“I’m not sure.” He replied.

“Any idea what’s with the clothes and weapons?”

“No, but it’s a lot of fun, how many attacks did you survive?”

“Just one boar.”

“What a loser! Get ready now, there are some spirits coming through here!”

“What?”

As soon as the question mark emerged from my lips, two screaming wraiths appeared through the surrounding foliage.

“Check this out, Darius.” Scheznik said as he positioned himself and shot out a blast of blue light from his staff at the banshee which screeched and disappeared.

The other wraith lashed at me with some sort of whip and caught me right on the arm. I dropped my sword screaming in pain.

“Oh, come on Darius!” shouted Scheznik as he sent another blast at the second creature, and ran into the bushes.

I picked up my sword in my good hand, and followed him into the forest. We ran for a while before we stopped at another clearing, gasping for breath. Scheznik was laughing. “Isn’t this so much fun?”

“No it isn’t, my hand is killing me! What were those things?”

“I have no clue, but for your hand, drink a bit from one of those life force vials”

I looked at my belt, and picked out the life force vial. “Are you sure?” I asked him. “Trust me.” He replied. I took a quick swig from the vial, the warm liquid ran down my throat and I already felt rejuvenated. The marks from the wraith’s whip slowly disappeared from my arm. “This is crazy!” I remarked.

“I know!” said Scheznik.

We continued making our way through the forest, trying to find a way out. “Looks like our cubes were some sort of teleportation devices” I said.

“The cubes!” Scheznik shouted for joy.

“What?”

“We can use the cubes to get back!”

“Where are they?”

“In the pouch on your belt!”

“What? How is that possible, this pouch is too small to hold the cube, the cubes were much bigger…”

Scheznik interrupted me mid-sentence to pull out his cube from his pouch, “it’s quite magical he said.” Thoroughly amazed I put my hand into my pouch and pulled out my cube. We sat down on the forest floor, and looked into our cubes. I pictured the hut, imagined myself in normal surroundings. Scheznik had already disappeared. He seemed to be a natural at this. A large amount of concentration later, and I found myself in the hut. We were back in our normal clothes. Both Pico and Prantis Bababa were there too, with wide grins on their faces.

“These cubes are amazing!” said Scheznik.

“Pico is taking you’ll back to the city, I trust you have enjoyed your stay”, Prantis Bababa said in his droll monotone.
“Yes we’ve had a wonderful time,” I said “But what sort of cubes are these?”

Prantis Bababa smiled, and bowed and made the clicking sound, that we had first heard when we had arrived at K’na-Ablala. We bowed and did the same. Pico picked up his bag and headed out towards the forest, we picked up our luggage and followed him.

As we left Kna-Ablala, I looked back to get one last glimpse of the village. It wore a deserted look, Prantis Bababa was the only person in sight, standing outside the hut where we had cleansed ourselves.

“Those are Intended Game Cubes” he said, as we walked back to the city.


I love my little puns! Did anyone figure out the other gamer pun in this account?

Another Account of Spurious Reckoning - 1

Twelve hours had passed since we had left the city, and the sun was now low in the sky. We were rather exhausted by the long trek. Scheznik suggested we camp before it got dark, but Pico, our guide, insisted that there was an hour of daylight and we must get out of the woods and reach the village before dark. So with leaden legs we trudged on towards our destination – the remote village of K’na-Ablala.

As the light started to fade, an acrid smell started to fill the forest.

“Hurry up” said Pico, in a loud whisper. He had a worried look on his face.

“What is it?” I asked. He quickly put his hand over my mouth and glanced around to see if anyone was there.

“We must get out of the woods before dark”, he said in a hushed tone, “there are spirits that wander this forest after dark”

“And are they dangerous?” I asked

“They are not of good intentions”, he said, and walked on in a hurried gait.

We quickened our pace and headed towards the village with renewed inspiration.

The woods started to thin, and in the distance we could see a few scattered lights. Gradually the huts materialised out of the darkness. We were now close enough to see both the moonlight and wood fires reflect of their walls.

A man came out of one of the huts to greet us.

Pico bowed and made a sound with his tongue that can best be described as a ‘tcha’, he motioned us to follow suit, and we bowed and said ‘tcha’ as best we could.

“Good evening,” said the man in a deep, slow, monotone, “I am Prantis Bababa. You have cleansed yourselves in the rooms and have eaten with us.”

Scheznik looked at me with a raised eyebrow, while Prantis Bababa bowed and left.

Pico led us into one of the huts where he told us to undress and sit cross legged around a small fireplace, which was built in the centre of the room.

“His words made no sense”, I remarked about Prantis Bababa.

“He was telling us the events that will happen the rest of tonight. For him time holds no value. They confuse tense easily.”

“Yes, of course.”

At this point in the narrative, I must break to inform the reader of an important matter that I may have overlooked. The village of K’na-Ablala is home to seers, mystics and clairvoyants. The village is also most famous (among small, secret circles) for its clairvoyant cubes. The Ablalai are precise cube farmers. These cubes that they cultivate are akin to the crystals of the gypsies. While the Ablalai cubes are much cruder, less aesthetic (to some), and a lot more obscure than their Romanian counterparts, they are a more intricate expression of space, time and the other mysteries of the universe. But more on this later.

Pico had started a fire. He explained that we would have to be cleansed before we could interact with the Ablalai, so that the outside world that we brought with us would not contaminate them.

He then stripped bare and sat cross legged at an angle from us such that we formed the vertices of an isosceles triangle. He went on to throw a few crushed and dried leaves into the fire which caused the flames to leap up momentarily, before filling the room with a faint, purple glow and a sweet, intoxicating fragrance. Pico then closed his eyes and sat still. Scheznik and I exchanged glances and then closed our eyes. The smell in the room was warm and absorbing, like none I have ever experienced.

We opened our eyes after some time. I could not gauge how long we had sat there; apparently it had been a while, for the fire was now almost dead, and mostly burning embers remained.

We felt a lot more relaxed and at ease now. The tenseness in our limbs, from the long journey, had disappeared. We slowly went about dressing ourselves in some clothes that Pico gave us. The attire consisted of a loose shirt that had to be tied at the belly, and a long piece of cloth to wrap around our waists. This was rather similar to what Prantis Bababa had been wearing.

We followed Pico to an open area in the centre of the village where food was being cooked over various fires. There were clumps of giant mushrooms growing in the area, and the village people used them as chairs. Plates with food on them were being passed around.

Prantis Bababa came up to us (he seemed to have appeared from no where), and showed us some mushrooms we could sit on. Two young girls brought plates for Pico, Scheznik and I. We smiled at them and thanked them, and they bowed and went away giggling.

Dinner consisted of balls of a mash of substances I could not identify, in a rather tasty gravy. Prantis Bababa joined us mid-dinner. Pico had told us that Prantis Bababa was the village head and one of the few who knew our language.

We asked the village chief if we could purchase a few of the clairvoyant cubes. He told us that they did not accept monetary payment and we would have to help making our own. So it was decided. The following morning we would join the villagers in their cube making process.

Part 2 from this entry in the journal of Darius will be posted on Monday (hopefully). For more from the adventures of Scheznik and Darius click here.

The phrase 'Clairvoyant Cube Farmer' was coined by JP.

Lizard of woes

Phil the salamander
Would philander
Through night and day
Twas lizard’s play

In the bushes
He’d get his rushes
His needs he’d pander
With lady salamanders

During the day
On rocks he’d lay
One day as he lay on his belly
His friends got Phil a telly

He also learnt the blues harp
Which he’d play in C sharp
Thus did he tour in Corsica
With his royal Phil harmonica

His growing ego
Was now larger than a gecko
And to gold shopping sprees
Would Phil agree

Soon he was constantly cribbing
He was a moody amphibian
His friends soon got sick of his whims
And plotted to get rid of him

So they promptly took the matter
To the local rattler
And thus the prima donna’s days grew ill
And the snake had his fill of Phil

Work and suchlike

Bah! I haven't found the time for a decent update. So many ideas idling in the back of my head! Will update soon!

It's Reincarnation Time!

Yeah, so my old avatar link suddenly stopped working, and I decided to switch to a new one! And this one's off our site www.zebediahplush.com (Click on the link and buy our album!), so it shouldn't stop displaying.

Also it's all arty farty!

Oh and also, BUY OUR ALBUM!

Widow Speak

Kehar turned lazily in his bed. It was time he got out of bed and started getting ready for his big date this evening. His date, Arachnia, was one of the hottest chicks in college, and every guy wanted to go out with her. Of course getting a date with her wasn’t that hard since there weren’t a large number of guys in college, and the girls outnumbered the guys in a highly disproportionate ratio.

But now that Kehar had successfully asked her out, he was having second thoughts. Was the date going to be worth it? Even though he was in college, Kehar was still a virgin. He was good at his studies, excelled in sport, and was overall quite the young achiever, but he still hadn’t managed to get laid! As a kid Kehar had been a bit of a geek, and he had preferred his books to girls. This was what had saved him from sharing the fate of many of his male classmates, who never made it to college. But now with college nearing its end Kehar had taken more of an interest in his female classmates. Inside of him, his male hormones were raging. The fire of desire burned bright, but his was the wrong species to be male. Female widow spiders don’t take too kindly to post-coital snuggling; they prefer a nice meal instead!

Kehar walked downstairs to the kitchen and made himself a fly sandwich. He picked up the newspaper and skimmed through. The obituary section was overflowing - apparently there had been a carnival of sorts the previous night! Kehar saw Rachman’s mugshot among the dearly departed. Rachman was one of his friends, a rather smart young spider who seemed destined for a career in web research and architecture. He shook his head, he didn’t know whether to be happy for Rachman or not.

He looked up at the clock, he had an hour to go before he had to pick up Arachnia for a movie and dinner, (yes, it was common sense not to ask a girl out to dinner and a movie, cause then you wouldn’t make the movie!). He sat at the kitchen counter, staring at Rachman’s photo, not knowing whether to follow his head or his loins! He trudged back up to his room and put on his best clothes. A note fell out of his pocket. It was the note on which he had scribbled to Arachnia after mustering up the courage.

“Would you like to go out with me?” it said.

Behind it was the reply Arachnia had scrawled out, “I’d love to have you and your babies!”

He sighed as he picked up the heart shaped box of chocolate coated insects (assorted), that he had picked up for this very evening, and headed towards the door. He was going to get laid – he was dying to!

The Only Lie I Ever Told

A friend once asked me "Do you always tell the truth?" to which I replied "No!"

Travailogue?

Back from Gokarna along with a host of parasites, bacteria and viruses that probably have rather exotic names for themselves. Headed to work soon after landing in, felt the aches all over the body and a mild fever had set in by evening, but I dismissed it to the strain of the journey and opted to pop a paracetomol. Had to leave half day through work on Tuesday as the chills and shivering had become akin to rigor mortis.

Add to the fever, was a headache from hell, and a persistently irritating wisdom tooth. Downed various homeopathic remedies as prescribed by my dad in conjunction with the little homeopathy handbook. The fever got worse as evening progressed along with India’s bad defense of a good score. I would have to throw layers of blanket over myself to get any relief from the constant shivering, and once the paracetomol would start working then I’d have to shed all my clothes, as I’d be drenched in sweat. This procedure filled the entire night.

By the next morning the tooth had become worse, I could hardly eat, chewing was handled entirely by the right side of my mouth. The throat was absolutely inflamed and swallowing was close to impossible. At this point two appointments were made, one with the dentist and the other with the general practitioner. While my adenoids were adenoying, my duodenum seemed to be degenerating.

At the dentists I was told the wisdom tooth needed to be removed, I agreed all to happily. The procedure was far less painful and complex than I had imagined and I felt I had been cheated. She could have at least done some drilling for a while. Anyway, I returned, wisdom tooth in hand, and hopefully soon to be around my neck.

Half an hour and one blood soaked cotton later I was ready to head of for the next appointment. Possibly just the way they work or just my luck but the doctor I had the appointment with came in forty minutes late. After a quick look through he prescribed some antibiotics and some other stuff. Here however, my dietary dilemma struck. The dentist advised me not to have anything warm or hot, while the other doctor tells me nothing cold, only warm water and warm food, gargle with tepid salt water.

Back home and some tossing and turning and a rather unquiet sleep. The stomach’s become worse, bordering on diarrhea possibly. However, the range of sounds that the rectum can produce is rather amazing – the wind section of most orchestras would be amazed. I’ve done everything from clarinets, oboes, and bassoons…no, scratch that: I’m not really sure what sort of sound a bassoon makes. The name sounds more like it got interchanged with some species of primate. I bet there’s a monkey in South America that goes by the name ‘pipe reed’!

A large number of souvenirs I’ve got back from this trip. Including a few mites that I found in my hair the other day. And Laryngitis is awfully annoying.

Mills and Boon outtakes

Eric strode towards Susan, as she stood forlorn in the balcony. The moonlight accentuated the perfect curves of her body as it shone through her flower-print nightgown. Eric gently put his arms around her petite waist, “Eric!” she said, as she turned around, mildly surprised. He ran his right hand through her long, dark hair, as his lips moved to meet hers.

“No Eric, we can’t...” she trailed off as Eric gently placed a finger on her lips. No talk was necessary now. He brushed his finger along her lips, down her chin and to her neck. Susan sighed softly.

Their lips met, tongues interlocked, when suddenly Susan pulled back.

“No Eric, we really can’t. I’ve got a cold and you’ll catch it too”

“Don’t worry darling”, he replied charmingly, “I have some strain of the virus myself; perhaps they’ll mate and have babies!”

Where do we go now?

Silver foil and an imminent vacation are the perfect combination for a strong sense of deja vu!

Yay! I'm going to Gokarna!

Dog's Life

Dogs have such peaceful lives. They get nice tummy rubs, and they can lick their private parts in public places.

Elizabethan Nonsense?

Thine isentasis like stasinverous
Thine beauficsporous in gladdigvein
Smee love thee uffably andomead ferrous
My love for thee saphyllispain

Perchance the glamodibeauty
From haverscent like godoluv
I stay parouse eversivity
Nay sinefolleg sonerodove

‘Tis muchenspiffic and blithy those
How caffid wont emigetsin
Byselfous grom the unsel rose
That is the flammo perevin.


Yes, I'm bored (what else is new?), and the lady of madness beckoned seductively!

Question

The coloured formatting on my previous post was an experiment I tried. I would like some feedback on how people who read it perceived it. Was it easy to distinguish the speakers based on the colour? could you associate the speakers and the colour? Etcetera.

The Ace of Spades

From L to R: Patches, Kiara, Bonzo, Professor Feurich, Neimglo X3-30, Spike


“Well, professor Feurich, we’d like to thank you for your support.”

“Yes, professor, it has been an exquisite…collaboration, I must say. Bet one hundred.”

“Raise two hundred”

“Call.”

“Call. Well, I expect that I will be given safe passage to Grrnor before earth is destroyed.”

“Call.”

“Raise four hundred. Why of course professor, you can live happily on Grrnor.”

“Do you boys want anything to eat”

“Thanks, darling, but I’m good.”

“I could use a refill, Kiara”

“That’s not good for your system Patches.”

“Yes, I know, but this is the only good thing that’s come out of earth, and I’m hooked!”

Laughter all around

“You know, I’m a bit worried that I’ll be badly out of place on a planet with a superior race of dogs!”

“Don’t worry, professor, you’ll get along great with everyone. Humans are actually such sweet, naïve creatures. It’s a pity that we’re going to be annihilating the planet. But then again it’s such a rich energy source, and the positioning of earth is such that the repercussions of the implosion will be negligible.”

“By the way professor, you won’t be the only non-dog there. Grrnor is a melting pot of planetary cultures. Of course, you’ll be the first human there, but we are home to all sorts of races, even Horcens like Neimglo here.”

The dogs snicker; Neimglo glares

“I believe it’s your call Patches”

“Raise another six hundred”

“Call. You know what’s ironic, these humans call dogs ‘man’s best friend’”

More laughter among the dogs

“Call”

“Yes, but that did make our surveillance a lot simpler, than on the other planets.”

“Call”

“Yes, Kiara placed us in good homes.”

“I agree. Well done Kiara!”

“Call. Yes, the data collection was impeccable”

“I hope you have all the data you need to trigger of the implosion properly.”

“Yes, living in the homes of those scientists, made our jobs so much simpler. We won’t have to make any assumptions, we’ve got the precise data we need!”

“Not to mention good tummy rubs”

Doggy laughter

“So when will we be able to collect the plutonium”

“Don’t worry about that, we’ll handle it.”

“Well that’s what you said on the last planet too, yet you managed to inundate the sector with tachyons, and we couldn’t retrieve any of the plutonium.”

“That was a small oversight. We miscalculated the planetary mass, which caused an exponential particle decay, but this time we’ve got the exact…”

“I don’t care why that happened, I don’t want you to screw up again!”

“Shut up, Neimglo. You’re only a parasitic bounty hunter!”

“Well, perhaps you’d like to stop blabbering and show us your cards!”

“Three aces it is”

“Damn!”

“And just when I had a nice J,Q,K straight”

“Hold on a second professor, you might still have won. Perhaps Patchy here would care to explain how he keeps getting aces, especially when the Ace of Spades is still in the deck.”

“So what? I’ve got the diamonds, hearts and clubs”

“How convenient, you forgot to mention the ace of spades in your hind paw.”

Spike sniggers

“Oh, and what about you, Spike? How come you slid the king of diamonds under your seat? Oh, wait, that’s because the professor just showed a king of diamonds. You cheating lot of flea-bags!”
Patches stands up, knocking over his glass

“How dare you say that ingrate, when you should be thankful that we even let you dirty lot of scavengers tag along with us and collect up the remains at every planet!”

“Come on boys, relax!”

“Shut up, Kiara!”

“You son-of-a-bitch, don’t you dare tell my girl to shut up!”

“You go around destroying planet after planet scrounging up whatever energy you can generate from them and call us a dirty lot of scavengers?”

Now Spike stands up and whips out a de-atomiser

“I’ve had enough of you Neimglo!”

“And I’ve had enough of all of you!”

Neimglo clasps his hands together sending out waves of high amplitude ultra sound, the dogs fall to the floor flailing. Spikes sends out a blast from his de-atomiser, that hits the lightbulb and causes an flood of antimatter particles destroying nearly two blocks of building.

So finally the dogs’ devious ploy is thwarted by an unassuming ace of spades, and the earth is not obliterated (except for the two blocks around Professor Feurich’s place)


I thought it would take 15 minutes, but it took nearly an hour. Click on the image for a full sized version, I didn't post the full size pic here cause it's screwing up my blog alignment. And I hope none of the readers are colour blind!

Hip Hip Huey

Yes, I changed my avataar. It's now a picture of Hamster Huey - post Gooey Kablooie. The jury gave him life (which I felt was unfair), but he may make parole!

An Account of Spurious Reckoning

We flew south for a week, before we landed at the Copistan temple, where they worshipped Copulus, the god of reproduction. The place was a riot of elephants and placentas.

We checked into the hotel Lgugabi; the rooms were well aired and spacious. We spent the day touring the markets of Copistan, where vendors sold colourful wares. The streets were narrow and crowded, with people hawking various food stuffs of suspicious origin, people selling brightly coloured clothes (which was common attire in Copistan), medicine men peddling bizarre concoctions in bottles and packets of various shapes and sizes, dancing girls, jugglers and street magicians.

On the second morning of our stay we were accosted by a dark stranger, who informed us his name was Oi Oo Oi Oo. He was selling packaged dirt which he claimed worked as an aphrodisiac. We bought a few packets, which left us lacking a couple hundred shekels, and headed of to find some women, upon whom we could employ the dirt.

Scheznik chanced upon a buxom belle with blunt features, while I found myself a more athletic and dark beauty with enchanting eyes. After an evening at the Rikwik restaurant, where we drank black tea cooked with lotus seeds (another aphrodisiac, according to Yaa Wee Yaa Wee, the restaurant owner) we headed back to our rooms.

At the hotel, the girls performed for us the sacred rites of Khwandi – a complex process that included a lot of intertwined limbs and moaning.

Scheznik and I woke up the next morning and found ourselves rather hung over and tied to our beds. The girls had robbed us of everything except the four packets of dirt, which they had spread all over us. I couldn’t remember much of the previous night, but apparently they hadn’t required the dirt to whet their appetites.

After a few minutes of girlishly giggling at our predicament, we started yelling for help. A couple of hours and two sore throats later, the house staff came in and loosed our knots rather nonchalantly. We later found out that such were common occurrences in Copistan. We had been left down and dirty.

Yes, I'm just horny

Klutz

Unbelievably pretty, yet I can throw it out of the window, watch it shatter into a million bits. Klutz.

Self Discovery #66

If I keep moving my head closer to and away from my monitor, it looks like the text on screen is getting bigger, and then smaller. If I do this exercise constantly, I look like an idiot!

The Prophylaxis

She sits, like an apparition, upon what seems to be a mechanical device of some sort. The Prophylaxis. Innumerable myths have grown around her, enclosing her like the shadows of the abandoned Crominic buildings around her. Little children are scared into an early bed time by her, their mothers forcing them to eat the horrible gloop they make, saying “eat your food, or else The Prophylaxis will have you for dinner.”

I remember my interest in her as a teenager. We would make clandestine trips to the edge of town from where we would take the bus to Crominis. It was a two hour journey in a bumpy bus, Elenia and I sitting close, holding hands. From Crominis it was another twenty minute walk to the place where she sits astride her obscure vehicle surveying as they performed intricate rituals around her. They said she was the image of god, given to us to show us the True Way. However those who believed so found strong opposition from The Church. Many of the leaders of The Way of the Prophylaxis have mysteriously disappeared, and her followers staunchly believe that the Church is responsible for these disappearances.

Elenia and I would sit on the crumbling stone wall, a little away from the makeshift pulpit, from where one of the leaders of The Way would give his sermon. If our parents ever knew we secretly attended the meetings we would hear no end of it, we would probably never be let out of our houses again.

I went through a phase where I almost became one of those many maniacal followers of the way who resorted to extremism to spread the True Way. Even though the early followers of The Prophlyaxis preached a non-violent approach, the modern followers were a violent blood-thirsty lot, carrying out orders from their superiors under the influence of various mind-numbing substances.

Today I’m glad that I took more interest in college and learning than in the teachings of The Way, for as I see it now The Prophylaxis is being used as a political tool. The unscrupulous new leaders of The Way no longer care about the spiritual message of The Prophylaxis, but they let themselves be used as pawns by our parasitic politicians.

We still don’t know what The Prophylaxis is: where did she come from? Who is she? Is she of our world? Is she of divine origin, or just an ancient prank? Her body structure in no way resembles the body structure of our peoples; her mount is unlike anything we’ve ever seen; there is no recorded history of where she came from yet references to The Prophylaxis exist in our earliest written documents dating back to many thousands of years ago. Long dead civilisations worshipped her as a god. Then with the spread of the Lutwigian Church the worship of the Prophylaxis was forgotten, until a hundred and fifty years ago when scientists exploring the Crominic ruins found her, and she was once again known to mankind.

Today I may not be a one the fundamentalists of The Way, ready to kill for her, but like them I am ready to die for her, she has become my life’s study. My perspective on The Prophylaxis might be scientific but I am still a Prophylactic Agent.

Ok another 15 minute piece and I couldn't resist a mild pun. This painting is indeed weird!

Office Correspondence

Dear Sir,

Hope this letter finds you in the best of health. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to turn off the AC, or at least change the settings from polar to normal.

Yours truly,

The guy in the next cubicle.




Dear Sir,

Perhaps our failing postal system may have, by oversight, not delivered my previous letter to you, in which case I would be eternally indebted to you if you might lower the AC by say a notch or ten, so that those sitting around you may be saved from an icy grave.

Sincerely,

The guy in the next cubicle.



Dear Sir,

The reason I am writing this letter in pencil is because the ink in my pen is now completely frozen. This situation, I believe, might be remedied if we turned off the Air Conditioning, which is set to sub-zero. You might notice the anomalies in our office environment, like the harp seals and the penguins, which could possibly be due to these freezing temperatures.

Thank you for your co-operation,

Your colleague who is suffering from hypothermia.



Dear Sir,

Perhaps your unmarried father copulating with a polar bear was the reason you require such abnormal temperatures, but perhaps in the interest of your future you might want to reset the environment here, especially considering the fact that I have now acquired an ice pick and am quite well-versed at using it.

Kind regards,

Your agitated cubicle neighbour.



Dear Sir,

Hope this letter finds you in the best of health. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to reduce the temperature on the AC, it's really humid and the pygmies are starting to annoy me. It would be best to comply ASAP, unlike the last employee who was unduly ‘terminated’

Yours truly,

The guy in the next cubicle.

Zosix and Camelon - 5

Mixed Emotions

It must be noted that restraining a dinosaur, albeit a singing dinosaur, who is under the influence of a powerful hallucinogen is no easy task, especially if he thinks he is being restrained by a large green fly, with ugly, red eyes. In this respect Zosix could not be blamed for resorting to a variety of wrestling manoeuvres before finally settling for a modified full nelson to keep the highly perturbed dinosaur from hurting himself, while Leia went into the forest to collect some herbs that would work as an antidote.

“No. Stay away. Get off me. Oh help me!” Camelon yelled, as Zosix flipped him over onto his back, and forced his mouth open so that Leia could stuff her medicine down the dinosaur’s throat.

“There, that should be enough for his size” said Leia, getting up and dusting herself “It should take a few minutes before the effects of the bumble fruit wear off”

It was a few minutes before Zosix could relax his grip on his flailing friend. Camelon’s functions slowed down, until he finally fell asleep. Zosix looked up at Leia, “Is this normal?” he asked her.

“Yes, it is” she replied, “He’ll be asleep for a few hours now, probably will have some weird dreams too, but he’ll be fine when he comes around”

Zosix stood up, (at this point he should have wiped his brow) and surveyed the scene – an empty hermit’s hut overlooked a sleeping dinosaur who looked like he had just been in a scuffle. He remembered that the main event of the day had been Baba’s disappearance, of course this was rivaled by Camelon’s hysterics which qualified as a deserving candidate for the position of main-event-of-the-day.

“We should get lunch, don’t you think?” Asked Leia.

Zosix shrugged, “I’m not really hungry”

“It is well past lunch.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m getting some fruit, would you like some?”

“No, that’s okay”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes”

“How come you aren’t hungry? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Alright, I’ll have something.” Zosix figured he might as well put on a show of ingestion, before Leia started asking more questions about his lack of appetite.

Leia disappeared into the forest, and came back a short while later, a variety of fruits, nuts, and roots in her arms. Zosix had made himself comfortable in his usual place around Baba’s fireplace. Leia placed her collection of lunch items on a flat rock. “These are good” she noted, munching one of the roots.

“I wonder where Baba could have gone.” Remarked Zosix, absently.

“I’m sure he can take care of himself”

“Yes, I guess you’re right”

“Aren’t you gonna eat?”

“Oh! Yes, that.” Zosix picked up something from among Leia’s assorted find and started chewing on it.

“So how long have you been living here?” Leia asked, “It’s so strange that I never knew you were here, of course I don’t come up here ever, except once, but I still like this place. Have you come down before? Oh I doubt! I would have known you were there if you had. It’s so nice to have met you, it gets awfully boring alone in the forest some times. I mean it’s not like playing with the forest creatures isn’t fun, but it gets a bit stale after a few thousand years. So what do you’ll do up here?”

Zosix looked at Leia who was concentrating on the fruit she had just bitten into. He had never met anyone like her. Of course Zosix had only really interacted with two people ever – Baba and Camelon; Leia was completely different from the two of them.

“So we can be friends, right?” continued Leia.

“Yes, we can”

“Oh, that would be so great!” Leia hugged Zosix, who was quite taken aback.

Three hours later and Leia was still chattering unabated, while Zosix listened intently. She had hundreds of interesting stories to tell (just like Baba). Zosix had learnt that Leia’s mother Gaya, was the spirit of the earth, and Leia had many sisters and brothers, forest sprites, water nymphs, and various other earth spirits.

Leia had just finished telling Zosix another story when Camelon started to stir. Leia decided to use this break to give her voice a rest and get a drink of water. She cupped her hands and drank from the spring, where it emerged from the rocks near the forest. Camelon awoke with a start. He rubbed his eyes clumsily with his stubby paws, and looked up at Zosix.

“Oh, Zosix” he yelled “I had such a horrid dream. I dreamt you had become a giant fly and there was this crazy girl with you who was going to kill us all, and there was a shadow monster and a giant dragon and…” At this point Camelon paused, for he had just seen Leia. “That’s her…that’s the crazy girl” he yelled, frantically pointing at Leia, “she’s going to kill us!”

“Calm down, Camelon. She won’t harm you.”

It took a while before Camelon was convinced of Leia’s non-villainous motives. But he finally, grudgingly accepted the fact that Leia was not out to kill anyone.

Zosix and Leia sat together staring into the sunset as the sky threw various colours at them, and ended in a grand finale of purple streaked with crimson. Camelon sat a little away from them, munching some of the fruits leftover from Leia’s lunch basket, eyeing Leia with suspicion, waiting for any action of hers that could be deemed murderous.

As the last bits of crimson disappeared from the sky to go show themselves to another part of the world, Leia stood up and announced that she had best go back to her forest.

“Why don’t you stay here? I guess we’ll be waiting for Baba, and we can get a fire going.” Zosix said.

“No it’s best I go back to my forest. Thanks for having me.” replied Leia, as she walked to the opening that led to the underground passage from where they had come.

Zosix asked her as she climbed down “Perhaps you will come here more often?”

“Yes I’d love that” Leia replied “you’ll can come to my forest more often too.”

Camelon grunted in the background, as Leia made her way down the passage.

An experiment with Vermeer (in 15 minutes)

The man says “Alas! What transgression is deserving of such a pestilence upon my soul?”

The maid says “Such a morning I ne’er did see.”

The man says “Why must it be my burden to take? Such a fair maiden to behold but once.”

The maid says “If it were for me to say I love him not, my heart would not let me.”

The man says “In my wanderings I have not once looked for love, but here a heart of a wonderous maid is given me”

The maid says “I know him not a mere moment, not even his name I know.”

The man says “Why must it be that though I know her not my entire being longs to be with her alone?”

The maid says “Yet if I were to lose this life but to see him once more I would”

The man says “My life past must have been filled with sin so great to loose so vast a fortune ere I found it”

The maid says “What fate is this that love found such be so fleeting?”

The man says “A fie on love if it such a thing be that lets not one’s heart be at ease”

The maid says “’twere I to meet him not, my soul no unction would need; nay I should rather live a moment in his knowledge than a thousand lives without him.”

The man says “Against all odds would our meeting again be”

Together they say “Yet I hope above all hopes together we shall be”


Here I am 9 seconds overboard, and with a rather sappy piece in my hands (on my word processor, more like). I tried to make it a period piece, I dunno how well that has worked, considering I didn't pay much attention to Shakespeare in school!

Head on to Criminal English to see some more prose via Vermeer.

Book Meme

As seen on Criminal English

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.

The only book in reach for me is The Penguin Book of Modern Indian Short Stories
The instructions lead me to the story Savitri by P.S. Rege

The sentence: You will say I have written nothing about myself, but I am still looking at things around.

Cool, huh?

Beauty

Red stone walls
Red no more,
Aged with moss, and home
To myriad creatures
Science knows not
And god knows more.

The coconut trees
Stretch on forever;
Home for snakes, that come
Inside during summer,
And birds that make
The table for dinner.

The house is old
but young as ever.
The sea outside, salt foam
To frolic in,
A meeting point
Of many rivers.

Shooting liquor bottles
Fifty feet away,
Using the air rifle, (for some)
From the porch
Under tiled roof
Is the best way to pass the day.

Time to relax
Time seems slow
This is beauty, in the home
Of god's own country.
Over here you never
Worry about how time will go.
Time you will never know.

Bored as Hell!

Old cartoon of mine. Don't diss me, please.

A Simple Experiment in Brouhaha

An electric nun's habit would be rather shocking, or so say the Beagle Baggle Bible Thumpers. Their constant professing of faith is a minor irritant, however with the right mix of pesticide and whiskey one can make merry for three nights without break.

My aunt underwent a sex change yesterday. She's now part of the Association of Avuncular Gentleman. Yoko Ono is their president, at least that's what he says.

It's not too often that you hear pigeons gurgling from inside the raptors, then again it's not too often that raptors eat pigeons.

We partied all night for the last three nights, in part due to the pesticide and whiskey, but also because the raptors are such avid dancers, and they also like Yoko Ono (well grilled). My uncle and two aunts (which were previously uncles who underwent sex change operations) decided, quite poignantly, that it would be indeed sad if I joined a monastery. I, however, choose the rustic life.

Pay me well and I shall not know what this madness need be ascribed to.

Stars

Twinkling.
Changing.
Radiating light of varied colour,
Reflected from infinite source.

Exhaling causes them to scatter
Randomly into space.
Forming swirling spirals
Due to the slightest movement of my hand.
The ripple moves further and further away
Until it has blended in.

Is this how God feels?
Watching the dust
Falling away from light into darkness.

Self Discovery # 144

I love myself for being a narcissist!

The Paths We Tread

“What are you going to do with the place?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“You could give it to him.”

“He’s too proud to accept my charity.”

We stared at the sea, the waters a deep purple, as the last rays of the sun moved on to light up parts of the world they would soon be going to.

“You’re never going to come back?”

“No!”

I looked at him as he continued to stare at the sea, the distant sound of the waves defining the silence.

I thought of her, I could go see her again, but it had been so long. Would she even want me back?

She walked out into the balcony, looking into the almost black distance.

“What about you?” I asked her, “Aren’t you going to meet your brother?”

“No,” she replied, “he’s a fool, an idealistic fool, but a fool nonetheless!”

“You won’t come with me?” he asked.

“No, but maybe you can come meet me sometime, or I can come meet you…”

Silence.

His phone rang.

“So this is goodbye, I suppose.” The voice said.

“Yes” he replied.

“You never will return?”

“No…what about her?”

“It never will be satisfying, if that’s what you mean.”

“Yes, I understand… I suppose.”

“It won’t matter to him now, anyway”

“Yes”

“Well then…”

“Well then…”

She looked at me, “are you going to go back to her?”

I didn’t reply. She would curse me when she knew I had booked her brother on the same flight as hers, they had their seats next to each other.


*****

They looked at the note and the keys. He had given them the responsibility of taking care of the house. It was the only way they would accept his charity.

“Well I better be going then,” I said.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know!” I replied; I really didn’t!

Zosix and Camelon - 4

A Trippy Meeting

Camelon bit into a bumble fruit dolefully. It was the last of his stash of bumble fruit. He was all alone now; Baba had disappeared and now so had Zosix. He sat outside Baba’s hut, around the ashes of the previous night’s fire, waiting. It seemed like an eternity had passed since Zosix had gone in search of Baba.

“What am I going to do?” he wondered aloud, “it’s been so long since Zosix had gone.”

However the truth was that it had been less than an hour since Zosix had left Camelon and descended to the forest below. Camelon just had a propensity to exaggerate these things. In actuality he had watched as Zosix climbed down the cliff, until he was out of sight, then after a few minutes of sitting around he had found himself rather bored and had ambled of to the patch of bumble fruit he was so fond of. After gorging himself there, he had brought a few back to keep him company, while he waited for Zosix to return. Now that all the bumble fruit had disappeared, Camelon was left to rue the fate that had befallen Zosix and Baba.

He had also been getting a little tense with each minute. This was due to the fact that he thought he had seen people or creatures sneaking around him. It had started about half an hour after Zosix had gone. Camelon hadn’t noticed it then, but now he kept seeing their stealthy movements out of the corner of his eye, and when he turned to look they were gone. No doubt they were cunning creatures. He wondered what they could possibly want. And in the last few minutes they had started getting bolder, he turned just as soon as he saw them dart out of sight. And now a large boulder, a few feet away from him, started to move. Camelon jumped back (if he could rub his eyes in disbelief he would have, but unfortunately his feet were not built for that purpose) he edged away from the rock, towards Baba’s hut. At least he would be safe inside.

All of a sudden the rock leapt forward, Camelon leapt backward, and Zosix leapt out from under the rock.

“Zosix!”

Camelon ran towards his friend, unbelievably happy to see him, and highly relieved that he was back. Just as Camelon neared Zosix, about to jump on him, he came to a screeching halt, for Leia’s head had popped out of the hole in the ground from where Zosix had made his entrance.

“There’s someone behind you!” yelled Camelon.

“Oh! This is Leia” said Zosix as he held out his hand for Leia and helped her out from the pit.

Leia stood a little behind Zosix, dusting herself. She then adjusted the flower in her hair and looked at Camelon and smiled. Camelon regarded Leia suspiciously. He didn’t like her sartorial promiscuity.

“Hi!” Leia waved at Camelon, “And you must be Camelon, Zosix told me a lot about you on the way up here. It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve never met a singing dinosaur before!”

Camelon flashed the obligatory smile that was necessary in response to such a remark.

“Leia’s from the forest below” announced Zosix, rather unnecessarily, “and she’s a forest sprite!”

Camelon was annoyed that Zosix had not yet inquired about his health. Then he decided he did not like Leia, since she was the reason Zosix had not yet expressed his concern for Camelon. However his curiosity was piqued by the fact that she was a forest sprite: Camelon was not sure what a forest sprite was.

“What’s a forest sprite?”

Zosix turned to Leia. He felt she would be in a better position to explain to Camelon what a forest sprite was, especially since she was one.

“Well” began Leia, in explanation “I live in the forest below. It’s my forest”

Camelon did not think this was a satisfactory explanation. “Even we live in a forest!” he said, “It’s our forest!”

“Well what I meant was, I’m part of the forest, and the forest is part of me. We are essentially the same being. If my forest is destroyed, I’ll die too.”

Camelon felt this was indeed scary, and it was unfortunate that poor Leia’s existence depended on the forest. However since he had already decided not to like her, he pretended that he was not concerned about what happened to her or her forest.

Zosix however, was concerned “Oh! You didn’t tell me that” he said.

“Well I doubt that would happen, it’s just the easiest way to explain how I’m linked to the forest” said Leia.

“Oh, alright.”

“The fact is” continued Leia, “that the energy of the forest is constantly regenerated. When an animal dies its body gives of heat, which is used by the smaller plants around it, then it decomposes and becomes one with the earth again. It gives sustenance to the smaller insects that help in the decomposition process. Then once again it grows into a plant, which can be eaten by another animal. And so the entire energy balance is maintained.

“The only way the energy could be lost would be in a fire, or if trees are cut down or animals killed and taken out of the forest, such that there is a shift in energy. Of course this doesn’t matter at a larger level, since the energy will still remain within the biosphere, and I will once more be part of the larger consciousness.”

“So do all forests have sprites?” Zosix asked.

“Well, yes. In a manner of speaking, they do. We all are part of a larger plane of things – we are all sisters.”

“What about this forest,” Zosix pointed at the old forest that started at the end of the plateau where Baba lived, “we’ve never met a forest sprite here.”

Leia looked up at the gigantic, cretaceous trees. “Oh, this forest belongs to my sister Anticia, she’s the eldest of the existing sisters. She’s very reserved; I’ve never spoken to her myself. I don’t think she takes on the human form ever, I guess that’s why you’ve never seen her, which is a good thing, she’s rather temperamental.”

Zosix nodded. Camelon looked nervously at the bushes, while something moved about behind them.

“Zosix, there’s some creature in those bushes” Camelon said, rather nervously, “It’s been moving around here for a while now!”

“Where?” asked Zosix.

Camelon pointed in the direction of the purportedly moving bushes.

“They aren’t moving.” Zosix moved in closer towards the bushes.

“There’s nothing there” said Leia.

Camelon ignored her. “I’m sure there’s something there Zosix, what if it’s a giant dragon?”

“What rubbish, dragons don’t exist anymore” noted Leia.

Camelon ignored her once more.

Zosix moved into the shrubbery, quite certain there was nothing in them, least of all a giant dragon, which couldn’t possibly hide in the small bushes, unless of course it was a midget giant dragon.

“There’s nothing here”, he declared, standing waist high in the bushes.

“But I’m so sure there was something there” said Camelon disappointed, and at the same time relieved, that there were no giant dragons around. “There it is!” he cried, turning suddenly, just as the creature darted out of the periphery of his sight.

Leia looked in the direction Camelon had turned. A pair of butterflies flitted around, but she saw no creature that merited the description of giant dragons. “Where?” she asked.

“It must be a shadow creature” said Camelon.

Zosix walked out of the bushes. “There’s no such thing, Camelon. What’s wrong with you today?”

“I guess this is what’s wrong with him” Leia observed, as she picked up the remnants of a bumble fruit.

Camelon made a grab at the fruit. The arrogance of this girl, he thought, she arrives out of nowhere, she hardly knew them and now she wanted his bumble fruit.

Leia smiled at Camelon, then she turned to Zosix and said “Bumble fruit when eaten in excess can be a very potent hallucinogen!”

Zosix burst out laughing, “And he’s been eating them by the dozen over the last week”

Camelon didn’t find any of this funny (particularly because he had no idea what a hallucinogen was), he thought Zosix and Leia were being mean. What was worse was that his stomach was starting to feel funny and worst of all both Leia and Zosix had just turned into big green flies, with large, ugly, red eyes.

Beelzebub's Nightmare

The tsetse fly, Glossina morsitans, is a fly (order Diptera) that drinks the blood of animals, including humans. The tsetse fly can carry the protozoa human pathogen Trypanosoma brucei, which causes African sleeping sickness.


When I drew this, I was under the impression that the word tsetse is pronounced set-see, however someone informed me that it was pronounced see-see, well in that case the joke doesn't work. I did look it up, however, and I believe both pronounciations are acceptable. So for the sake of me and my cartoon please say Setsee!

Zosix and Camelon - 3

The Forest Below

Camelon did a little jig, singing “I win, I win, I win” rather out of tune. After a few seconds of jigging he realized he had better sit down and let his body recuperate from the strain he had just put it through.

Camelon looked at Zosix. A fly buzzed past. Zosix realized that by now Baba should have come rushing out of his hut, completely annoyed by the entire hullabaloo.

Zosix called out “Baba?” And then once more, “Baba?”

Zosix entered the hut.

“He’s not here”, said Zosix, coming out of the hut.

“Maybe he’s gone on one of his trips with Bahadur”, offered Camelon, “you know how he’s always telling us about the adventures that they had”

“Still…that’s strange, I didn’t think he would go of on one of his trips so suddenly, and without telling us”

“Should we search for him?” asked Camelon.

“I don’t know. Where would we search? He could have gone anywhere!”

“Maybe he’s gone to the forest below, he was telling us about it sometime ago, right?”

“Not enough data” flashed through Zosix’s multicore processor, as he stood at the edge of the cliff behind Baba’s hut, trying to figure out which way would be the best way to get down to the forest below. There would have to be some path leading down to the forest if Baba had been there before, but there were no signs of any possible gradual descent from where they stood.

Zosix scanned the cliff face. There were enough grips and footholds for him to climb down the wall, but there was no possible way that Camelon’s clumsy feet would be able to manage the descent.

“Okay. But I can’t find any way down except the cliff, and you’re not going to be able to scale the cliff face. Will it be okay if I go down now and search for some easier path, then you can come too?”

Camelon looked over the edge dubiously. “I guess so”, he said “but don’t take too long, please.”

Zosix descended steadily. He had already calculated the best possible route using an Optimal Path Algorithm to decide which grips would get him down the fastest and with the least effort. He had to stay away from the waterfall (though it was more of a waterdribble, at this time of year), as the rock there was very damp and covered with slippery moss. Camelon peered over the edge very carefully, watching his friend’s rapid progress.

Zosix reached the bottom. Even his rapid robot reflexes were not prepared for what he was about to see.

A girl!

Now Zosix had seen a few girls before, during their infrequent visits to the village, so typically this should have been no surprise. But here was a girl and not just a girl – a girl minus her garments, washing herself in the pond at the bottom of the waterdribble. Her hair was a brown so dark it was black. Her jaw was sharp. Her breasts were small and perfectly molded. Her garments lay strewn on the rocks around the little pond.

She turned and saw Zosix, who stood at attention; his recognition systems working overtime.

“Hi!” she said, wading out of the water undoubtedly unashamed by her lack of cover. She shook her head, causing a rather large number of water droplets to spatter on Zosix’s face. Then without a sense of urgency she put on her clothes, which consisted of a long white gown with intricate flower embroidery all along the ends. If the gown was meant to cover her nakedness it did not serve its purpose too well, since it was not very opaque, and with the added wetness provided by her recent bath it was as good as a sheer film.

She sat on a rock, smiling at Zosix, and started to comb her hair. Somehow Zosix’s advanced communication systems were failing him. Various programs running in his electronic brain were running into infinite loops. He finally managed to say hi, by quickly killing all the extra processes that were jamming his processor.

“Hi” she said once more, as she delicately placed a white flower in her hair, “what brings you here?”

“I’m searching for Hashmi Baba, would you know him?”

“The old fellow from up there?” she asked, tapping her index finger against her temple and then pointing up to where Zosix had recently descended from.

“Uh…yes” Zosix answered, unsure of what she intended to convey by her actions.

“Well I haven’t seen him in a very long time”

“He hasn’t come here today?”

“No he most certainly has not!”

“But he has come here before”

“Yes, a long time ago”

“With Bahadur?”

“Who?”

“Bahadur, his friend.”

“No”

“Alright”

The tennis-ball conversational exchange stopped at this point, while the silence made itself heard for a moment in infinity before the forest sounds continued their normal course. She continued smiling at him, paying careful attention to his features. Zosix, meanwhile, stood rigidly still, and if it were not for Styfroflom’s unrelenting pursuit for quality organic skin-look-alike material, one would certainly know he was not a real boy.

She got up from the rock she had been sitting on and walked toward Zosix. Optimized Action Interpretation Algorithms were failing to produce any results in Zosix’s head. They stood face to face, an arm’s length separating them. She ran her left hand down his face, from the start of his hairline along his smooth jaw to his chin. Her fingers, he noticed, were the softest he had ever felt, and her eyes seemed endless, and she smelled of the earth before it rains.

“It almost feels like you’re not real!” she remarked.

At this point, if it were possible for alarm bells and flashing red lights to pop out of Zosix’s head, they would have. If he was programmed to lie, he probably would have said he was a real boy, however that was not the case and he said nothing at all.

“How do you know Hashmi Baba?” he asked suddenly.

“I don’t know him personally, but my mother has told me about him. How do you know him?” she mirrored.

The question, though relatively simple, seemed to catch Zosix off guard. “We live across the forest from his hut.”

“What’s your name?”

“Zosix”

“I’m Leia”

There was another long pause in the conversation, when Zosix suddenly remembered Camelon would be waiting at the top, possibly getting more anxious with each passing minute.

“Is there any other way to get from here back to the top?” he asked.

“Why don’t you stay in my forest?”

“My friend, Camelon, is up there waiting for me.”

“Well let’s get him down then”

“He can’t climb to well”

“Well I know another way up.”

She took him by the hand and led him into the pool.

“Where are we going?” he asked. She didn’t reply. Holding his hand in a firm, yet delicate grip she continued leading him till they were facing the rock wall, the water splashing on them.

“Hold your breath” she said, and pulled him under the water.

Fortunately for Zosix he had no need to breathe or he would have choked. They dived through an opening at the bottom of the pool, and after a few seconds they emerged from another pool, this time in a cave.

Self Discovery #16

I have a punchant for pens and a moral predisposition towards Spoonerisms.

Say Cheese

I have a nice bottle of French white wine which we opened for my parents' anniversary. It's a rather ornate bottle, shaped like an old pitcher or an alabaster. The problem with these classy wine bottles though, is that once you open them you can't re-cork the damn things!

So now we've got the bottle lying there half filled and open, with a long queue of ants waiting to get in, like it's some posh uptown club. I've been watching them for half an hour now. I bet they have bouncers at the opening to prevent bottlenecks (Hey! I feel like making bad puns tonight!) The ants march in and promptly drown, what is it with ants and suicide, or should I say insecticide (Yeah! I know!)

Damn Alcoholic Ants! Atleast they float around happily in the wine before they die, it's almost pitcher perfect!

Zosix and the Singing Dinosaur - 2

A Race well ceded

It was the perfect morning, but so was every morning for Zosix, since they all fell perfectly into his built-in definition of the morning:

morn•ing môr 'ning The first or early part of the day, lasting from midnight to noon or from sunrise to noon.

He looked around. It was the same GPUs (Graphical Perception Units) that his OSDs (Optical Sensory Devices) registered each day, when he opened his Styfroflom® eyelids after his nightly energy conversion. The room was bare, the walls were cold, the floor was clean, and Camelon lay asleep in the corner.

Camelon was on his back, his stubby legs moving back and forth in a frantic running motion, faster and faster, until he suddenly jerked awake with a start.

“They’re going to kill me!” he yelled.

“Who’s going to kill you?” asked Zosix.

“The knights!”

“The knights?”

“Yes! The Knights of Our Lady of Perpetual Brontasaurus Fellatio. They were chasing me with pitchforks and hand-axes. They were crazed, they were going to kill me, wanted to kill me…”

“Calm down, Camelon. It was just another one of your rather weird dreams. I think we should talk to Baba about this and see what he has to say. This is the third time this week you are having one of these nightmares. Who was it last time that wanted to kill you?”

“The Sisters of the Holy Second Reich”, said Camelon breaking down in tears.

“There, there.” Zosix patted his dinosaur friend on the back.

“Thanks Zosix, you’re a friend”, Camelon said, as he wiped the tears from his eyes. Several fruit flies hovered around his face, and he swiped at them hatefully.

They walked through the forest, headed towards Hashmi Baba’s place. Camelon was already feeling much better with the fresh forest air and the mild morning sun. He waddled along blithely following Zosix who skipped along ahead of him.

“Let’s get some breakfast, Zosix”, Camelon suggested.

Zosix shrugged. “Alright”

Camelon ran along eagerly towards the new patch of bumble fruit that he had discovered a few days ago. Zosix followed after him. “Are you going to eat those fruits again? Aren’t you tired of them already?”

“No, they are absolutely delicious” yelled Camelon as he disappeared into the bushes.

Zosix waited, watching a few tiny bees as they hovered around in sudden jerky movements, and the phrase “as busy as a bumblebee” flashed through his multicore processor. A pair of butterflies danced from flower to flower around the bumble fruit bushes. Camelon greedily feasted upon the bumble fruit, making rather ungracious chomping noises. He could not understand what it was about the fruit, but he thought they were positively scrumptious. After a rather heady breakfast, Camelon ambled out of the bushes to where Zosix waited patiently on a rock.

“Watcha doin?” asked Camelon, as a few chewed fruit bits fell from his still stuffed mouth.

“Equations!”

Zosix stood up, and dragged his foot across what he had written in the ground with a twig. “Let’s go” he said, and the two of them ran along, leaving behind a large amount of symbols and numbers in the mud, which proved that the forces of attraction that existed between different particles could be reconciled to a singular fundamental force. Equations that unified field theorists would never see.

They strolled along the forest path. Birds chirped among the branches, insects zipped around buzzing excitedly, squirrels playfully bounded across the path, chasing each other in a high-paced game. The forest was bright and cheerful. Camelon looked down, seemingly dejected.

“What’s wrong, Camelon?” Zosix asked, sensing his friend’s mood.

“Oh, nothing,” Camelon replied, “Just wondering about my nightmares, what do you think?”

“I don’t know, I have never experienced a dream or a nightmare. I know the words only by definition. It sounds rather interesting though.”

“I can’t remember having nightmares ever before, I don’t know why now. It worries me…”

Zosix hummed, acknowledging Camelon. “How about we race till Baba’s place?”

“Well, I…” but before Camelon could finish Zosix was already running ahead, yelling “Last one there is a dung beetle!”

The two of them ran through the forest. Zosix up ahead, his Electro-Mechanical conversion cells rapidly pumping energy into the Styfroflom® muscles in his legs, and Camelon lagging behind, clumsily trying to avoid the trees and undergrowth, in an attempt to take a short cut to Baba’s.

They reached Baba’s hut, with Camelon yelling “I win! I win!” as he bounced along to an awkward halt just before the precipice beyond the hut. Camelon collapsed where he stood, he had put everything into the race and he was delighted beyond words to have outraced Zosix, who had voluntarily let his dinosaur friend beat him. Zosix came up behind him, forcing a look of exhaustion, happy to help get his friend’s mind off the nightmares.

The motives of selflessness

Aid is widespread. There are NGOs everywhere, and volunteers eager to help out. People from everywhere have contributed generously.

During the two days I was at Nagapattinam, I worked with the YMCA and Seva Bharati.

The YMCA was handling the situation at a general hospital, situated around a kilometre from the sea. Waves had flooded congested rooms that had once been a nursing school. The water had been drained away, but one can still see the mark (around 4 feet high) on the walls. We cleaned up and put back benches and tables that had been left out to dry. Later we helped shift medicines, sent in by Unicef, to a godown. I still wonder why the government hospital workers weren’t transporting the medicines to camps. Perhaps I’m unduly sceptical.

Seva Bharati is the NGO that belongs to the RSS. These chaps were unbelievably helpful in the villages we visited. It’s hard to imagine that it’s these same people who go around defacing everything on Valentine’s Day (and that’s not the worst of what they do!)

Along with the Seva Bharati members, all clad in their Khaki shorts and armed with spades, shovels and containers to carry mud, we visited a couple of villages and helped restore houses that would serve as temporary shelters for the affected.

Yet underlying the goodwill live the hidden agendas of religious, political and other sorts.

An old woman complains to us, how she has been wearing the same clothes since the wave hit, while in other villages children use brand new saris as swings.

Cooking utensils, bed sheets, kerosene stoves are brought to the doors of people who were barely affected by the sea, because a certain some one knows a certain some one else who knows an MLA to whom a certain some one else owes a favour… you know how it works in India.

Of course one can’t have goodness without a profit. It’s just bad business logic!

Note: I wouldn’t give my money to the PM’s relief fund, sure he’s a nice guy, but he doesn’t personally hand out the relief to the deserving. The money gets filtered before it reaches the affected.

Some of the organisations that I'd recommend are
South Indian Federation of Fishermen Societies: http://www.siffs.org/
Sneha: Nagapattinam Tel: 04365 - 222 907, 240 622
AID India: http://www.aidindia.org/

A Slow Restoration

It wasn’t the summer sun, thankfully. We worked hard. Standing in a chain, passing vessels filled with sand. Switching places when those who were digging were exhausted. Information Technology professionals who have never seen so much manual labour all their lives. A few of the villagers joined in to help us help them.

Nine houses we managed to restore to vaguely livable conditions. Only the tiniest iota of the work that needs to be done. Other teams that were with us helped out at shelters, children’s camps and the general hospital.

I cannot even begin to imagine what the survivors feel. I don’t even try. In the villages we visited, most seem to have come to terms with the facts. Children play a game of ‘vegetable shop’, a little girl sells neem leaves for two rupees fifty paisa, from behind the remains of a wall, to her friends; the men discus their problems with us; the women offer us bananas as a thanks for our little effort. Yet a sense of emptiness and shock hovers.

It will be years before a suggestion of normalcy is returned to these villages.

Raped!

Fishing boats, possibly weighing around fifty tonnes each, flung like children’s toys, their splintered remains sticking out of each other.

The supports of a bridge under construction, strewn around in disarray and the concrete remains of the bridge, half falling over.

A house, or what was once a house, covered in sand. A girl’s bangles lie broken in the sand. A goat chews on the remains of a child’s Biology test paper (he didn’t know the name of a fungi).

An old woman, in a yellow sari and a deep rust coloured blouse, sings a folk song broken by intermittent sobs, or perhaps the other way around.

A clock, its glass encasing broken, sand along its frame, faithfully ticks away.

The religious gymnast

One for today!

Chameleon First Dates

Never go out with a prudish female chameleon, I say!

At home with the family Squid

Another one of my doodles!

Cowboy Snakes

I hope the text is legible enough, perhaps I should have been less miserly on the DPI while scanning!

A Year Gone By

Time like an ever rolling stream,
Bears all her sons away;
They fly forgotten, as a dream
dies at the opening day.

Isaac Watts, I believe.

Today, the first day of the new year, yet it feels no different from any other day. I like the ethereal quality of time, so much like a dream. It only exists as a memory (at least for those of use who cannot perceive it as a distinct dimension), so intangible.

Zosix and the Singing Dinosaur

To most people, Zosix looked like any other ordinary little boy, but under that layer of Styfroflom® epidermis, lay the gold circuits that acted as his nervous system. These circuits carried electrical signals to and from his multicore processor system. Zosix never knew who had built him and why, but internally he was programmed to know that he was not a real little boy, and that he had a serial number ZSX3320. However, this made no difference to Zosix, for he spoke, behaved and generally felt like any other little boy.

For as long as Zosix could remember (and could remember for a long time, since he had carbon based storage systems that could store thousands of terabytes of data, as memory), he had known Camelon, the Singing Dinosaur.

For as long as Camelon could remember (and he couldn’t remember much, since dinosaurs don’t have good memory, singing dinosaurs having the worst), he had been blue.

This was rather strange, since most people don’t imagine dinosaurs to be blue. But this was not the strangest thing about Camelon. What was strange was that Camelon, like most other Singing Dinosaurs, couldn’t sing. This fact was the cause of many unnecessary conversational formalities, and Camelon hated it. When most people were introduced to Camelon, they would say, “Oh, so you’re a Singing Dinosaur? Why don’t you sing us something?” and Camelon would say, “But, I can’t sing”, they would reply “Come now, don’t be bashful…let’s hear you”. It was not that they wanted to listen to Camelon or that they enjoyed a good song, but they would ask out of courtesy.

Zosix and Camelon were the best of friends. They lived to the east of The Woods, in a well furnished house. Not far from where they stayed was a farming village. The two friends, however, hardly ever ventured out to the village. There was no real need for them to go to the village, since they did not need to buy provisions or food of any sort. Camelon was vegetarian, and his diet consisted of assorted foliage from the forest, as for Zosix, he could eat anything that was carbon based and could be broken down to produce energy inside his Styfroflom® stomach, apart from that parts of his Styfroflom® epidermis acted as solar energy receptacles, so as long as the sun was out Zosix didn’t need to eat. In any case they avoided the village, because the people there were too inquisitive about this strange pair, and inevitably someone would ask Camelon to sing.

Zosix and Camelon did not have a care in the world, though Camelon occasionally worried about the fact that he couldn’t sing, and Zosix was paranoid that someone would find out that he wasn’t a real boy, but then they never told anyone their worries. Zosix and Camelon spent their carefree days frolicking in the woods.

The woods were a large area of trees and plants that belonged to the cretaceous era. However, the flora was the only resemblance to that bygone era of dinosaurs, for the woods were inhabited by animals of a much more modern segment of evolution. Zosix and Camelon would run around through the woods the whole day, taking breaks to stop and observe the little forest creatures. The forest was filled with all kinds of small mammals and reptiles, birds, both large and small, and insects of assorted colours. As varied as the species were that dwelt in the forest, Zosix and Camelon had never come across any other dinosaurs, and everyone figured that Camelon was the last of his kind.

Sometimes they would visit Hashmi Baba. Hashmi Baba was a hermit who lived in the forest.
While he was rather old as recluses are apt to be, no one knew exactly how old he was. Zosix had never asked Baba his age, and it was hard to guess. Like most hermits, Baba had thick, graying locks of hair that flowed down his neck like a lion’s mane, a thick grey beard and deep, dark eyes that gave him a constant look of erudition. He also constantly smoked a large selection of herbs, which he told Zosix kept his spirits up and prevented him from developing his nihilistic streak.

Hashmi Baba had a little hut overlooking a small pond that was the result of a spring. The spring was constantly bubbling sweet water that was refreshing to drink. The view from Baba’s home was indeed scenic. To the west of Baba’s hut was the abrupt end of the plateau on which the forest lay. The water from the pond trickled down the precipice that was the end of the rock bed on which the plateau lay, and during the rains the water cascaded down like a small waterfall, forming a small pool at the bottom of the cliff. On the east giant trees from the cretaceous era, that made up the forest, overshadowed the Baba’s hut.

Zosix and Camelon had spent many an evening watching the setting sun from Baba’s hut. After the sun had set and as the lights gradually faded, Baba would start a small fire around which the three of them would sit lazily, Baba smoking his pipe.

While they sat around the fire, Zosix would trace patterns in the sky using the stars as connectors. His neural networks were so advanced that he had already come up with a few million images in the night sky. Camelon, who could never see a pattern in the stars, loved watching the insects circle around the fire in a ritualistic dance before finally sacrificing themselves to the crackling flames.

Then Zosix would say “Baba, Baba, tell us one of your amazing stories!”
“Oh yes, oh yes, please do”, Camelon would chime in.

“Only if Camelon sings us a song”, Baba would say, and Camelon would look all annoyed. Then Baba would laugh and say, “There, there, you know we’re only teasing!”

And then he would start narrating one of his stories, one of his wonderous tales of adventures in forgotten lands. Baba had all kinds of stories stowed away in his bag of tales. He had stories from all parts of the world, even stories from other planets, stories that involved the gods, stories that involved mythical creatures, stories of danger and passion. Baba had traveled everywhere, and had done everything. He was a veritable know-it-all. Or just a good bluffer.

Another Day

Another day
Another underwear

Jesus Today

I would have liked for Jesus to come now. No, I don't mean his second coming, I mean the first time. He came at a time when people were easily swayed by goodness. Of course people are still easily swayed by a capitalistic tainted goodness.

Christ is a common misconception among Christians. Modern, hypocritical, quasi-Christians take it upon themselves to condemn anything they feel is vaguely removed from Biblical rigidity, however JC would probably do a lot of things that would shock and appall today's church goers.

From what record we have in the Bible we know that Jesus was involved in a lot that scandalised the religious community of the day. He ate and drank with the lowlife, broke a lot of Biblical laws, flirted with prostitutes. All possible reasons why the common folk were so enamoured by him.

That's why I would have liked to see Christ in action today. He would have a larger group, comprising of a variety of subcultures, that he would have to endear himself to. Add to that the modern man's focus is a lot more materialistic (damn Capitalists!), than two thousand years ago.

So how would Jesus go about it?

Me first post!

Ah yes! I finally create a blog!
What will come of this bold venture, I wonder! Perhaps gold, jewels and riches untold?