BREAKing News

News is about reporting an issue. Its about telling the people through words and pictures and nowadays videos whats happening and how. What the issues are, and who is responsible. This post is a me being pissed at the modern press and journalism.
The news media in India either doesn't quite understand their influence on public opinion in India, Or understands it all too well. In India, where the newspaper circulation is only quite about 30.7 million in 2002. I wont be able to give any better stats for 2009. But back then, the number of newspapers circulated for the number of people hit about 50 per 1000. The 50 is assuming that circulation has increased. Assuming that each paper caters to one person, that's 3%(THREE PERCENT, just to amplify the point) of the population that reads the paper. In whatever language. This clearly showing that newspapers aren't exactly the most popular news delivery system. There is TV, which is obviously significantly more attractive. And that's about the topic of the post.
EVERY channel loves breaking news. But the entire concept of breaking news is a significant piece of news about an event that is important enough to warrant an interruption of regular broadcasts is order to report the news to the population. Now I am not going to argue the use of the term itself. That's a different argument entirely and not relevant to the current post.
you watch Indian news channels these days, and we have breaking news ALL THE EFFING TIME. Everything. Honestly, its annoying. After 26/11 (after the 5 days), we had breaking news on the television for a week atleast. RGV going to the Taj was breaking news. ?¿?¿?¿?¿ Prioritize. Of course, it isn't half as much fun watching news that is "just about stuff"... When its breaking, its so much cooler... Um.. Again ¿. Of course, it a lot about ratings and viewership. So its all business. But new broadcasting is an important service. It needs to be shown some respect. Check the comments on this article.
And everyone has an opinion. The number of talk shows with speakers on it just because they are available. Shows like "We the People" and "The Big Fight" and whatever-its-called on channels like StarNews and HeadlinesToday are more of a screaming and shouting fest of little appreciable content. The talk shows on NDTV, I used to hold in high esteem. But the speakers nowadays think laughing and huffing and puffing makes them put across their points better. And what points. Stupid points some are. I won't go so far as to say that they aren't good st the topic they were called in to discuss. The channels are hopefully, not THAT bad. But they make silly points.
A good debate also means respect between the speakers. Leave the hall and call your opponents whatever you want in private, but when the debates begin, you need to be responsible and respectful. Everyone is getting heard.

The Mangalore issue. It has to be about the most talked about topic on television nowadays. There was a show with a BJP Leader, some top person from the BJP Mahila group with Raghu form Roadies and a Restaurateur. The "leaders" were all against the corruption of Indian culture and "sanskriti"(which is something else). The restaurateur spoke minimally. Only once as I saw it and apparently only one other time. both times, with a little disappointment about the situation as a whole. Now, Raghu, who has a reputation of being a straight talker with lots of "attitude" and the king of sarcastic kickbacks, was probably the worst. I'm not trying to stand separate from a crowd here. He was screaming. Disrespectful. And had nothing of substance to say. He interrupted the other speakers. Whether or not their points made any sense themselves. That was low and wrong. He kept on arguing about his right as a person to do whatever he wanted. And the sarcasm was a serious step down from his regular style we see on Roadies.

Now,I am no judge here. I'm not asking to become the editor of national newspapers or the marketeer. I don't ask to become adviser to any news channel. And though I am neither a viewer nor a fan of Roadies, I will likely be first in line to agree that there are very few people who could do what Raghu does.
But I find some faults. I mention them. Like I said, not a judge. So if any of you are thinking, "Kunal thinks he knows a lot... But ... ", then please... PLEASE, comment. And tell me the "". Bhai will probably be first in line... :P I'd be right behind, come to think of it... :P

Chaar aane ki murgi, baarah aane ka masala - Sarkeshwar 'Circuit'

The Whole Wide World

I have a dream... A wish actually. To be precise, it wouldn't count as one... Its a collection. But first... I was born in 1987. And for those who don't know, the Halley's Comet was visible, that is, it crossed the Earth in 1910. Again in 1986. 76 years later. When I read about it for the first time, I was probably in class 3 or 4. Around 8 or 9 years old. I read that it appears every 76 years. I was excited and looked u when it passed the last time. When I read it came around in 1986, I was pissed. I felt vaguely cheated that I missed it by one year. YES... I KNOW. Even if it came in 1989 or something, I wouldn't really know. I KNOW THAT I WOULDN'T KNOW... You can stop shaking your head like a Chinese doll. But either way, its how I felt. And its what I thought. Ever since, I've decided that I wanna see it again. I wanna see it before I die. That means I'll have to be 75. In the year 2062. Blood far off eh...? I know. I don't know if I'll get hit by a bus or something else before then. But its just a dream. If I die before then, then I'm gonna go upto God and pull his long white beard. He will, of course be able to show it to me immediately.. But the wait itself is much cooler than the prospect of seeing it. Just in case, for a few of you who are thinking it, NO. Its not a different way of wishing I live till 75.
Continue reading.
I wanna see the world. Nothing amazing about that. I wanna live in New York and stand at Times Square. I wanna go see the Berlin Wall. I wanna pray at the Wailing Wall. I wanna see Mecca. I wanna LIVE in Africa. I wanna see Sierra Leone. I wanna drift on the Nile and swim in the Amazon. I wanna get caught in a rain in South America and sail through the Suez canal. All these and more. I wanna experience the world. I wanna live the world in my 75 years till the Halley's Comet. I'm 21 now. I have 54 years. FIFTY FOUR years. Its a long long time. 54 years, not given to me. 54 years that I have allotted to myself, hoping that I'll have it.
I have read about people who have moved country and place to settle down in They live in another place and have a family there.
I think its lucky that they did. Experiencing a new lifestyle is something quite amazing. I imagine. I want to. I'm not saying I will.
For a person who would want to do something like everything I described, they need a longer life than 75 years. Let me be clear here. I don't want to visit these places. And those I mentioned above are not even a tenth of the actual list. I don't only want to see these places. I wanna live there. I wanna make friends with the people there and I want to visit the grocer. I want to live in all these beautiful places for the experience they will give me.
But I was standing at the railway station yesterday when this thought struck me. Being able to do all of this would make me happier beyond my means. But I don't think it is necessary. We haven't been designed to survive the world. We can travel as far as our means will allow us. But we cannot hope to cover the globe in a lifetime. I'm not calling sour grapes. I'm just saying that it is how I feel. I have lived in the UAE. It is a different lifestyle. I have lived in Hyderabad and Chennai. Even the differences between cities within India took some getting used to. I cannot imagine what 5 cities in different countries would do to me. ha...
I like pani puri and chola batura. And I'm happy in Hyderabad and I actually have come to love Chennai. I don't like tea, Irani or otherwise and love sambar on my Vadai...
I'm a hybrid of a Hyderabadi and a Chennaite and am a little bit of a citizen of the world. I honestly say I could watch an Italian movie wearing Bermudas and a baniyan, sipping coffee and eating a lasagna while living in Moscow. A little bit of everything...
And I kinda hate this post. But I have effing typed the whole effing thing and if you have started and come to the end, you have suffered the equal agony of me typing it.
Joy to the world...

Sleepily I say...

I wanna sleep. I totally lack direction and topic and find nothing better to pick up a book and read myself into a good nights sleep. Whats the last book I read? Harry Potter... Book 7. Light reading. And I enjoyed it. I read 3 chapters a day and finished it slow. Second time. I already knew what happens.
Before that. 'Tis by Frank McCourt. Nothing fancy. An autobiography of the author(i know... i know.. duh...). A good book. Enjoyable. Not too many fundae. But he does manage to turn gears at certain points. He doesn't seem to intend to do so. But he does. Then again, the dude is a teacher. And he won the Pulitzer. So I'm guessing that's what good teachers do. They make you think. There's this nice part. He teaches this bunch of women. Night school. Illiterates trying to get a little education. Read and write. They discuss issues. So they come around to racism. Hot button topic all over the world. And its like the number two way of getting movies to become blockbusters. Number 1 way is Steven Spielberg. Anyway... getting back. So they discuss racism and MalcolmX and Martin Luther King and stuff. Its based in the US... So they talk about how people are bad and how the world is unfair to blacks... All this time, they are also learning to read and write.
Then one day Martin Luther King gets killed. They all get worked up. They discuss the actions of the white man and how he's wrong and bad and all that. Then 2 months later, JFK gets shot. The incidents are unrelated. I think. But it affected them far differently. For the 36 black ladies who want to be able to write a letter to their kids. They sit and now they have no argument. They sit and are confused. They don't know who to blame and how to think. The best thing to do is to continue and to just keep reading.I may have the exact facts wrong. But the premise is the same. 36 ladies put their heads down and go on reading. They have nothing to say. We have no understanding and no idea why the things that happen, happen.
Its a small part of the book. It does its part. I spent time reading it again. It had no powerful meaning jumping out. But you have to figure it out.

The same happened with the autobiography of MalcolmX. It begins and continues quite unremarkably. You begin the book and read all that he writes. I was quite stunned reading it. MalcolmX is one of those people. The kind you hear about and read a few paragraphs about. Pretty much everything is appreciative. Pretty much everything tells us how MalcolmX was a great man who changed lives and brought about the change that the world needed. But he doesn't say that. He lived his younger days among junkies and gangs. He was part and participated in them. And was pretty damn good at it too. It wasn't till later that he reformed. He was caught and sent to prison. He read there. He learnt there. He became a follower of the "Honourable Elijah Mohammed" and became a Muslim. He then became a preacher. He "recruited" for Islam. The error with it all was that MalcolmX was bent on colour. He was a racist too. I was disappointed and sad when I read that. He used to preach that the white man was evil. I was upset intellectually. I didn't like what I was reading.
But the greatest signs of a good movie and a good book is transformation(eg The Godfather)... In an autobiography and true story, it is magnified. On his pilgrimage to holy Mecca, he saw white man and black man pray together. He understood the error of his ways and amended. He never claimed to be enlightened overnight. But it happened. MalcolmX was the most arrogant and at the same time humble person I have read about.
What turned here was morality and past. Everyone runs from the past. I do. A little. And the present too actually. He did too. A great man. He was haunted by his actions all his life. I realise that I am not perfect. But I have an inkling of MalcolmX, Bhagat Singh and Mahatma Gandhi inside me. At the same time, I have Ivan The Terrible, Adolf Hitler and Aurangzeb thumping within me as well.
I hope I will one day choose correctly between the good and bad sides of me. Jekyll lost. I hope I will not. My Hyde is what you see. I am all the right and wrong. I am the example of the purest and vilest of sentient being.

But right now, I am sleepy. And this post is an example of that. Good Night everyone. Sleep happy... Dream that you fell naked on a pile of cow-crap and pig-droppings. Waking up will never be better.
Forgive the tangents of this post. I enjoyed typing it though...:)

Unchained Melody and Auld Lang Syne

Unchained Melody is my favourite song. Number 1 all the way. I heard it for the first time as an instrumental. Where... On my 16 bit Sega console. It was the a midi format background score for the main menu of the game. I played that game a lot. So the music left a print on my mind. I would be able to identify that music anywhere in the world. I agree, that its possible that my vague introduction to the song is a reason I have such an affinity for it. The song is more than 50 years old. Introduced for a movie, 'Unchained'. I haven't seen the movie and have no judgement to give. I have heard several versions of the song. The midi to begin with. Then there was also The Righteous Brothers, Elvis Presley and U2. I personally consider the version of The Righteous Brothers, performed by Bobby Hatfield the ONLY version of the song that does it justice. I haven't heard the first and original version. Even so...
Honestly, I think Bono was high when he rendered his version. And it was Elvis Presley's last ever Live performance when his version was recorded, so you can say where I'm going with this. Don't get me wrong. U2 is very good, and Elvis Presley truly is a god. I could probably write whole posts about some of his songs. But I truly wish he had never performed Unchained Melody. While Gareth Gates' version got its share of recognition, I didn't like it. His voice is too feminine for a song where the guy is professing his love to a girl. Or so I think. It was overdone.
I've been listening to the song or a variation for nearly 16 years now. And I probably heard it with lyrics about 11 years ago. And I probably understood the song about 5 years ago. And i related to it 2 years ago. I love this song. If anyone asks me, its this one.

Auld Lang Syne. Its old Scottish. Now I don't go hunting for Scottish and arbit-language music, but this quite popular. Loosely translated, it means, "long long ago" or "days gone by" (courtesy: Wikipedia). The reference will be understood listening to the song when it comes to

For auld lang syne, my dear,

for auld lang syne,

we'll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne

Its obvious what it means. For the thick-skulled, it reminisces days gone by and is all nostalgic. Take a cup is the equivalent of toasting the good old times.
This song, in variations is the most popular all over the world for Christmas and New Years. It has a beautiful meaning. But the prize here is the melody. And with the two put together, you get a piece of art. Undeniably fabulous and loved by mostly everyone. You've heard this before. You almost definitely have. Its one of those songs. Others similar are 'Ode to Joy'(Beethovens 9th Symphony), and probably Tubthumping by Chumbawamba. Tubthumping is a one-hit for Chumbawamba, but it still serves the purpose of the point.
I first hear Auld Lang Syne as a ringtone on my Dads Nokia. One of the older bulkier models, which made its appearance in India. My new phone, Nokia3110c doesn't have Auld Lang Syne. Its moved to Bach :D...
Anyhow, I used to take this phone and go to a quiet corner and listen to the tune a couple of times a day or something. At the time, I didn't know what it meant. There were no words, it was monophonic. But the melody strung a note for me. It stayed. I never forgot the name. I did however, hear the songs at various times. In movies, TV shows and stuff. The Godfather Part II features it. A group of nurses sing it a hospital just around the time Michael tells Fredo that he knows it was him who attacked him. New Years Day midnight in the movie.
This song too, I have heard several versions. They include Kenny G, Boney M etc etc.. Several versions are choir performances. Two renditions, which I have listened to over and over and will not ever get tired of are,

1. From, "Its A Wonderful Life". Fabulous and amazing movie. It features at the end. I wont post any other spoilers. But in context and given the moment, it makes you smile with a tear and feel like singing along. This is one of the movies during which I shed a tear. For critics, go stuff yourselves.
2. Dropkick Murphys. For a group that's also released songs named, "F**k You, I'm Drunk" and "Irish Drinking Song", it seems like an odd choice. But Auld Lang Syne has many versions and several mutations. The Dropkick Murphys strung out a fast rock theme of the Pub Version. Great music and feet tapping.

I am not doing justice to several songs by singling out these two. I have plenty of favourites. I'm not saying I have greater exposure, just that I have lots of interests. Music related. But these are two songs, I don't ever remember skipping over or fast forwarding. I either repeat it innumerable times or listen to if it pops on my playlist.

One of the greatest regrets in my life is never to have learnt how to play a musical instrument. Its a lifes pursuit to learn how to play the violin, in a sound-proof room if nowhere else... And whether it happens at 22 or at 40, or 60, I will do it...

Take care readers. Thank You, faithful ones. This isn't a "smart blog". I'm just bakwaasing here... So if you read all this stuff, I'm grateful. I won't know if you did, but if you do, I'm voluntarily thankful. Take care...

Change... The Green is gone...

Everyone has something that they're deeply attached to. An object. Most people atleast. A car is probably number one on most lists. Sportstars wear the same hats and underwear for games for luck. Michael Jordan has apparently kept his college shorts(that detail is true, not from Space Jam alone.. so There!!)... I have my own things. One thing, and most people from Chennai, my friends, people who know me, know this.
My green bag. I've had two actually. First a green sling bag which Rojin(for those who don't know, he's a good friend from college). He bought it for his sister. But my need for a bag was imperative. He gave it to me... Thanks man, if you read this. So it was a dark green Puma (imitation) sling bag. I carried it to college everyday.. I carried it outside when I went out. Even if its just one book. Always. Me without the green bag was non-existant. But it was imitation. And it was falling apart. Slowly... It started with the strap. Then the zipper... Then the bag cloth itself. Started coming apart. I spent more money than it was worth getting it fixed... So many times. There were strands of cloth hanging off. Christy offered more than once to have it repaired. It probably bothered a couple of people and unnerved a few others. "Why would Kunal carry that trash around..?"... I had it for over a year and it became kind of synonymous with me. However, I had to let it go. Eventually, I had to. I still have it. Its in a crappy shape and will probably hang on my wall later. I loved that bag. However, it gave way to something new.

I went for a Cognizant event in Chennai once. They were giving out bags. I got one. I was black and algae green. It succeeded the Puma. It was a backpack kinda thing. It probably has a specific name, but I dont know it. It was a good bag. Nice pouch in front and string things to wrap over my shoulders like a backpack. Now that lasted through life till two days ago. Unfortunately, its been a long time and its time to retire that beauty too... I'm officially done with that one too...

I dont know why. But these bags went everywhere that I did. And they became supremely important. Dont ask... Anyway. They're done. And its made way for a new black sling bag. Just got ot... So lets see how this goes...
Change sucks sometimes. But lets see where it goes...

The Anecdote and the Attacks

Well... The Mumbai attacks have all wrapped up... The aftertaste of the attacks are gonna stay with everyone for a long time. I caught the attacks myself the morning after they began. And the first pictures and videos I saw did kinda throw me off... I have to say, my first reaction was, "Shit... Attacks again... Now what?"... I didn't think of it as anything different. We'll come back to that later. When I found out it happened in two hotels, that's when I got worried. My Dad is a Hotel Man... Hotelier in the Hospitality Business. So it worried me. But he was safe. A relatively safe distance from the site of the attacks. And it wasn't in the hotel where he worked... So I felt relief...

Anyhow... The attacks are done. The news channels are having a field day. VP Singh passed away. Former Prime Minister. No one cares. Barely anyone knows. He got a passing mention in the newspaper. For all the professional and effective coverage, and more than 5 channels in English that I flip between and 3 Hindi, not a whiff of a mention. Only in passing. Well... The fat lady sings in the right place and that's where the crowds go...
I don't blame them either. Obviously the people are going to go to the place that is the most interesting. And how much ever we may call them sad and disappointing; it still excites the nation, gets adrenaline pumping and tongues lashing and sparks interest overseas...

So then... TV on... Everyone gunning for the most interesting celebrity to give them some cool comments. Everyone has stuff to say. Everyone has an opinion. And if curses could kill, we'd have elections next week. Everyone blames the politicos... They blame them for the entry into the nation in the boats. About the attack at the CST and the hotels and the rest... I don't understand that. Not entirely at least. Yes, I agree the politicians could've done a coupla things differently. And yes... A few small changes would've probably made some difference. Some will argue lot of difference.
Everyone's blaming everyone else. Some say the NSG were slow. Some say the system is messed up. Some say the people are irresponsible. Some say, "Foreign Hand"...
Now that's another thing. Why so adamant about blaming Pakistan...? The attackers were probably a few Pakistani. But that doesn't mean Pakistan DID IT. There was an Indian in the London attacks. That doesn't mean India planned that. It’s not right the way that happens. Again, I give so much leeway in the possibility that they were involved. But that doesn't mean they were. Let’s see... There's gonna be a movie soon. On these attacks. Probably based on a book. Let’s hope the books author does good research... Let me mention "Black Friday"... Good book. Good movie...

The title of this post stems from the root of my own guilt. I plead guilty to the interest and the excitement of the knowledge of the attacks. I tried to keep myself informed... I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth for every piece of disturbing news. I didn't like what I saw and read and it upset me. I didn't cry or anything... But I didn't like it. My friends and I were annoyed. We wanted it to change. We wanted to be able to do something. We didn't like being in the comfort of our beds and couches watching what was happening. I mean, we didn't wanna be in the thick of the attacks or anything. But we felt guilty at being just as innocent and being safe. I hear that something similar happens in plane crashes. Survivors live in guilt. Well... this is a comparison of sorts.
I was travelling the evening of the 28th and through the night. So I was cut off with no details. I had to wait for the next long-stop station or the morning. I was reading a book and had my iPod. So I was on a little island of my own. The book I was reading is called, " 'Tis ", an autobiographical account by Frank McCourt. Look him up if you’re curious. He isn't a celebrity though...And you'll be reading about him in subsequent posts.
Two things happened on the trip. They may not appear all that serious or interesting or even relevant. But they turned gears.

1. Between songs, I overheard the conversation between the passengers in my compartment. They weren't travelling together. As in, they were all new to each other. They were discussing the attacks. One guy insisted it was Pakistan. Everyone nodded. No one tried to say anything. I didn't either. I'm not exactly showing disappointment or being judgmental irrespective of how it sounds. But it got me wondering. Do we really have no opinions except that of others and the media? If Shobha De came on TV and bitch-slapped the politicians (which she did), do we say, "Hmmmm..." and think or say, "She's right..." and nod vigorously... Both are as applicable as the other. Everyone to his own. But the TV and "Other Tongue" have to stop being the source of our knowledge. And our opinions.

2. The book I was reading. It had an anecdote. Funny. It made me laugh. I found it funny and giggled. And mind you, I'm not saying I did something wrong. But I began to wonder. I moved from guilt to giggles in less than an hour. How did that happen? Were my emotions that hollow? Sigh... I'm not guilty about it. But it just turned gears like I said...

I love my country. I don't know. But I have always imagined the romanticism of being help my country even at the cost of my own life. I know it happens in movies. And as we all have seen, it recent times too... Too recent. Good people. Decent people. Everyone there had a life. They had cute kids and stomach aches. Asthma and too much money. Nagging wives and company reviews. Some probably had movie tickets and unpaid electricity bills. Some probably were waiting for a girlfriend and some to take a leak in the fancy hotel toilets. Ooh and Aah at the automatic flushes. Calling them lavatories and WC's...

I love my country. I do not want people to be scared coming to my country. India is a country of beauty and bargains and over-priced autos. But it’s also of love. The worst of us will respond to kindness. My image of my country is a Utopian belief. And I also believe the Utopia should be something we look for in our lands. Hopefully they'll one day come true. I've said earlier that I think violence is a necessary evil.

God Damn Me!! I hope that wasn't true...

Looking Up

One possible disadvantage writing about feelings and conscience is that people close to you who read the blog will start asking me if I'm ok. So yes.. This is me. Shaking my head to anyone who wants to ask me something like that. Look at it like this. I have close friends and confidants. If I have a problem, they'll know. So if you're one of them, you know if I have a problem with life. If you don't have any idea, it means you're essentially not close enough. Or that i have no problems worth worrying you about. I mean, come on... Who doesn't have problems...(rhetorical)

Go figure.

I'm 6 feet 3 inches tall. Now I'm not the biggest guy around. But then again, I have weighed 127 kilos. And I think I still am over a 100 kilos. Right.. Anyone who wants to know how I went from 127 to "just-over-100", don't ask... If I knew, I wouldn't be "over-100". Right, So I have had my share of being stared. Unfortunately, I'm not talking about women(though that has happened... Not in the intended manner)... I have turned corners and had people stop talking because they thought I was a teacher. I look at least 4 years older than I am. I'm pretty sure, that if I ever tried masquerading a teacher I could've pulled it off... Maybe.

I have never had an issue with my size. Never had an issue with my weight. I have looked at myself in the mirror and made my stomach talk like Al Pacino at times... I mean, "Fredo... You broke my heart".. Heh... How is that not funny with your stomach...

My height, weight and general shape and size have always, each, to the annoyance of some people been great sources of pride for me... :D

I'm not going to get a Nobel Prize ever.. EVER... Or even get the community award for 'Best Citizen'. Maybe 'Best at Eating Pani-Puri' though...

But I know I enjoy things I do. I've walked over 12 kms in a single afternoon and only turned around because the battery on my music player was running out... I have never bungee jumped or gone snake hunting. I don't live life on the edge. The greatest physical risk I can recall taking is eating a purple ice cream whose name I'm actually looking up right now as I type... Cannot believe I forgot it... 

But I like the things I do... I don't do charity work. I have no excuses. I now people who have really put their spines into it. I probably never will. I cannot think of anything I really have taken the effort to do. At this point, even putting effort seems fake to me. I have good friends. I have been lucky to have them. And I hope with most of my heart that they never read this.

I probably won't donate my kidney to a person unless I really had to or unless I cared for the person. I'm no saint.

Like I already said.. There are plenty of things I should have done at this point in my life. Plenty of things left to do. I don't know if I ever will.

I will always have critics. You're most likely shaking your head thinking how dumb this blog page is. You won't like the things I say. Shit.. I have people who have gotten angry at me for NOT talking and FOR talking, Trust me. I'm goddamn confused.

When I came to Chennai 3 years and 3 months ago, I didn't know anything about SMS etiquette. Honestly, I'm sad I learnt it. I have never smoked beyond a single puff. I have only had any kind of alcoholic spirit in the presence of my parents. I have never done any kind of drugs. Shit, except for movies and pictures, songs and books, I wouldn't know half the things I know.

When people don't tell me I suck, I think that maybe their thinking it and not telling me. I feel like an idiot halfway into conversations. I try to stop talking. Or then make bad jokes which no one understands. But I find them kinda funny though...

I'm essentially not as smart as most other people. My peers to be precise. NO.. I AM NOT putting myself down. But I can act smart. Its happened. I don't hunger for recognition and greatness. Thats called idiocy and small-mindedness in the world I live in.

I will always love the people who hate me. Its a character trait. We can judge a person not only by the company he keeps, but also the company that he doesn't. So people who curse my large overfed ass are the ones who give me a certain form of definition.

If you had to ask someone what kind of guy I am, the best one to ask is the guy I don't get along with. If they have any kind of respect for me, then its a very very positive thing. Not liking a person isn't the same as respect.

I have a few people I really really despise... But I have immense respect for them...

I don't know where I was going with all this. Its just going. Random words with no direction.

I don't know much about too many things. But I know I am a decent guy and every night, EVERY NIGHT, I go to sleep with no curses and no bitterness. I sleep at nights with the world as an ally. And it serves me well... I like it. And I advise it...

This following quote is from a fabulous movie named "Harvey" from 1950 starring James Stewart. A magnificent actor. he delivered the dialogue.

The quote makes more sense in context... But see if you carry any meaning from it. I did... In a manner...

ELWOOD P. DOWD:

'In this world, Elwood, you must be oh,

so smart or oh, so pleasant.' Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. And you may quote me.'