'tis the spirit to be...

...helpful*, it seems.

As a cyclist, 4x4s - especially those driven in-city by blondes and tanned lads** - are the bane of my travel-life. As are trucks. And vans. And buses. Sportscars. Food-delivery scooters. Pedestrians. The bloody local council that won't add enough grit to the edge of the frikkin' hello-there's-been-frikkin'-ice-here-for-three-days-now road. Sportsbikes. Pigeons***.

But 4x4s in particular. I'd scrape my handlebars across the side of each and every one of them if it weren't for the fact that I was so bloody noticeable in my reflective gear and I trust them whole-heartedly to hunt me down and shunt me onto the pavement.

And just because they're occasionally useful **** doesn't mean I think any better of them. PR job, I say.



* For a moment there, you thought I was going to relent and go 'jolly' didn't you? As if.
** And yes, it's always blondes and tanned men. I'd know - I make sure I have a clear view before I start throwing rocks at them*****.
*** Fat, stupid birds. It's a wonder people haven't dropped turkey in favour of roast pigeon for Christmas dinner.
**** It's been snowing here a bit. Four inches and this country shuts down. It's like Bombay's Harbour line trains during October showers.
***** Not really (see above about being hunted), but fantasies are meant for being fantasised about.

Manual of Life - Alternative Definitions #93

Helplessness
n., Trying and utterly failing to soothe an old, blind, almost-deaf dog who spends the last few hours of his life yipping away because of you-dont-know-what (before he finally decides to chuck it all - softly, unnoticed - and head for that roomful of unguarded slippers* he dreams about).


See also:
Ruined weekend

Manual of Life - Things You Didn't Realise Till You Did #67

You don't get to see billiards* on TV much anymore. If at all.

When some kid looks blankly at you while you're talking about how fast-paced life has become, point that out. And if they start talking about pool and snooker, smack them with the cue-stick.


* Three-ball or English billiards.

Friday Fun: Fact/Fiction

There are days when I feel low about the state I find my life in. Whenever that happens, I tend to go read just one paragraph* to make me appreciate what I have.

"A lot of good things had happened that day. He hadn't been thrown in the hole. The gang hadn't been dragged off to Sotsgorodok. He'd swiped the extra gruel at dinnertime. The foreman had got a good rate for the job. He'd enjoyed working on the wall. He hadn't been caught with the blade at the search point. He'd earned a favour from Tsezar that evening. And he'd bought his tobacco.

The end of an unclouded day. Almost a happy one. Just one of the 3,653 days of his sentence, from bell to bell".

- One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich

* sure, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of excerpts from other books that could be said to be more potent, more evocative, and more graphic about human suffering. But the sheer simplicity and clarity of this one, and the way in which it brought down everything to a few simple, basic requirements hit my 15-year old cocky self like no Gogol or Dickens or anybody else ever had. And that initial impact has been hard to shake off.

A "really-should-stick-to-promises" post

So, backstory.

Firstly, Joyce. And that book.

This is an update of no update. And just to make it clear how much of a non-update it is, this post is a redraft of a draft that was first made six weeks ago.

I did not read an additional page since the last post on it. I blame the man, and I blame Suketu.

See, after two years of owning this book, and forgetting to pack it every time I went home (or choosing to, rather - because really, why would I be carrying more books back here?), I finally got round to getting hold of a copy from the local library. And I couldn't help but drop everything else to finish it off first. Not that it's perfect (nowhere close), but the book reinforced a lot of things I've grown to accept and be scared of. More on that later.

And when I returned to Joyce, after revisiting so much...reality, his book felt so....silly. Pretentious. All look-at-me-I'm-so-much-smarter-and-have-you-got-all-the-references smugly superior. And yes, I'm impressed by the dedication and imagination it took. And I'm sure I'd appreciate it more if it was taken apart bit by bit in a critical review class.

But that's the point. Books are meant to educate, enlighten, entertain, comfort, and challenge. By themselves. Not by having to be taught.

I'm quite willing to tackle difficult books, drive-you-crazy books (oh, Something Happened!, how you still haunt my dreams), books that take ages to get through because you have to re-read every page to absorb its meaning.

And while this was a challenge, with every page it felt more as if he did not really want you to win.

It was as if he was thinking - Well, first now that I've got this awesome underlying concept (which nobody would realise unless it was pointed out to them), let me throw in all these random religious and linguistic references just to make sure they sit with four other books to understand it. And then - oh boy - then let me write it so crazily that they'll call me a genius for fear of appearing stupid.

Which is all fine. But you know what? I don't have to put up with it. I'm not going to be implicitly sneered at just because they didn't teach Latin when I was at school and my arse wasn't walloped by fervent Catholic priests who hated the weather of the place they lived in.

So, if you were still interested, Chapter 3 was where it ended. I just got bored.

That said - 'likelily'. Such a lovely word. He's absolved for that.


***************************

I use too many .... (just had a 30-second blankout trying to remember the word)...brackets. Apropos of nothing.

Sigh.

This is turning into a farce.

I post and comment in a frenzy, then I disappear. Then I come back, then whoooosh again. Pathetic.

It's not like I've been ill.
Or travelling.
Or super-busy.
Or in all sorts of difficulties.
Or been out saving baby seals.

It's not even as if I've been out of ideas.
Or broken my wrist so I couldn't type.
Or had my computer crash.

No.

The simple truth is that I've been lazy.
Also, distracted with something else, but that's no excuse.
Just lazy.

And the worst part is that I like blogging.

Maybe I'll blog about it next week.

Feel free to yell at me.

Friday Fun: Fact/Fiction

(Things you may choose to believe about me. Or not.)

I lose about two kilos in weight if I miss breakfast for three or four days in a stretch.

Obviously, I don't put on any if I eat regularly, more damned luck mine.


*********************

Tsk. Hate mail is bad for you. Avoid.

Manual of Life - Things You Didn't Realise Were Weird Till You Did #43

That the reason you've developed a very slight head tilt to the right, caused by all the endless hours browsing (English-language) books in a store, is simply because the spines are printed left-to-right (when placed horizontally) so that you can read it normally when it's placed front-cover upwards.

Obvious, yes?

Except.

If you are already seeing the front cover, with the title and the photo and all the other little details - why would you be reading the spine?

So. Why don't more publishers just print the spine in a vertical top-to-bottom, so that when they're stacked as per normal, my neck doesn't need to get such a horrible crick every single time?

**********************************
For those of you interested in such esoteric information - and that's pretty much all of you - here's some book-spine naming and printing conventions.

This is the way we ride our bike, ride our bike...

Keys. Helmet. Lights. Vest. Gloves.
Checkcheckcheckachinchang.

Hmm, those treetops are getting it good from Mr. Breeze today.

No, my mistake. It's Mister Wind. Mister I'm-going-to-slam-into-you-from-the-left Wind, to be precise. The Doors would have been appropriate right now.

Oh well, thank goodness for tree cove...

Uh oh.

fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Why are you honking you moron - you think I like swerving randomly into the middle of the road?

HatecyclinghatethesestupidcarsHATEthismiserableislandanditsmiserablebloodyweather.

STOP honking, you little shit - it's a cycle not a bloody tank, you try and keep it stable!

Ok let's just make it to the turning - once we go right, the wind should be behind us, and hopefully that will...

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Is it a bird? Is it plane?

HolycrapIfrikkinLOVEcycling.

Hey doofass, race you in your schmancy beemer.

...what is he grinning he abou...

Uh oh.

Two rights doth maketh a wrong.

fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Whoooaaa shit. Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to bang into you like....Hey, it's not my fault you're not looking while you're walking - and what are you doing out for a stroll on a morning like this anway? Oh yeh, well at least somebody wants to screw me. Jerk.

Just another few hundred metres and we'll be fii...

Whooooaaa shit. Sorrysorry, didn't mean to bang into....yes, simply dreadful weather, isn't it? Hmm? Oh well, it's not so bad usually, and it's good exercise too. And the same to you. Goodbye.

50 metres....

Whooooaaa shit.

Screw this.

This is the way we walk our bike, walk our bike...

"Mmmmm....cheese toast".

"Ugh!"

"....??!"

"Humans were not meant to eat cheese".

"Huh?"

"No seriously. Cheese is an alien organism which should be not ingested by us".

"Stop right there. If you're going to start on some vegan crap rant about how it's made from milk which is the fluid of another animal and would I then also drink blood - I swear I'll sock you one".

"No no. Not that - although when you think about it like that...."

"What did I just say? You love my knuckles so much?"

"Ah. Sorry. No, what I meant was - it really is an alien organism".

"Riiiiight".

"Really. See, you called that a cheese toast, but it's actually a toasted cheese sandwich, right?"

"I guess so".

"Yeh. The truth is hidden from you that way. No, if you really want to realise the truth about cheese, watch it melt under a grill*".

"And what will that show me?"

"Go see for yourself....go!"

"Okay, okay.
.......
uggh!"

"I told you so".




* No really, watch it. The Blob returns!

The worst fights are the ones you didn't know you were having.

Friday Fun: Fact/Fiction

(Warning: This may or may not be true)

Some days, when I'm feeling malicious, I go to the Google page to search for and then click on the Yahoomail link. I then go to the Yahoo homepage and search for (and click on) the Hotmail link. And just to complete the circle, I visit the MSN page and search for (and click on) the Gmail link.

I like to think it hurts their ego a bit, for someone to come to their turf and then declare an affinity for their rival. I also keep hoping it screws up all their 'Most popular searches' lists.

If I'm feeling particularly malicious, I visit the Rediff page and search for (and click on) all the other three. Because after all, it's Rediff.