"welcome to armageddon", read the recorded message
and three trench coated figures
with wide brimmed hats
stepped off the doomsday capsule
to survey the acid laced remains
of what had once been
their world.
they had returned from an interplanetary orgy
a congregation of spacebeests
handpicked to represent their planets in a contest of virility
the earth was represented by two human males, a woman and
an androgynous praying mantis
who died after screwing a wingding from andromeda
for twenty three straight hours.
as the three humans gazed in awe,
cockroaches approached them
and spoke in high pitched voices
of how this wasteland came to be
it seems that a para nuclear machine was triggered off
while two scientists tried making babies
in a barrel of plutonium 253.
and so it seems that the only survivors
of earth's last fuck
were cockroaches and cher and a town named stromsund,
population 5000, north sweden
a fields prize regular cockroach hypothesised
that stromsund had survived in accordance with
what had once been a far fetched theory of probability.
they say that death brings the need to procreate
this has been supported by a british study where
psychologists been proved conclusively that
people indulge in sex after attending funerals
and so, our heroes felt this very human need
more so, in the face of being the
universe's champion fuckers.
being desperate as they were, our human heroes three
realised that fucking cockroaches or cher
would not alleviate their misery
they needed to share their grief with like bodies
and asked, therefore, for directions
to that improbable town in north sweden
population 5000, the one that was called stromsund.
how they made it there was anybody's guess
but then again, reason had taken a beating
when the town itself survived
and as if probability wanted to wipe its penis on the fabric of time
after fucking with every humanly acceptable concept
it turned out that stromsund was not abound with viking descendants
but was a peaceful, sexless amish settlement.
they knew there was just one way to go
and that there was no choice
for cher and cockroaches and nuclear waste were out of the question
they rushed into the town like cash's whirlwind in the thorn trees
roller skates, cookies and white bonnets askew
all it took was seconds
for stromsund to come undone.
the cockroaches watched in horror
and cher was unavailable for comment
the post-nuclear destruction continued as every man, woman and child had every orifice in their bodies violated
the biological sex machines didn't even stop for a cigarette
until they came to terms with their pain
and even they degenerated as nature wept nuclear tears, a final shower of potent acid rain.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
the golden age of the fatherland.
now playing: kissing the lipless, the shins.
just returned from chennai today. maybe staying in mumbai too long has made my immunity to the charms of various places a tad weak. or maybe with time, space, effort and change, i've learnt to disassociate myself from the horridness of chennai. perhaps, it has really come a long way. whatever it is, chennai 2007 will be the golden age of all my visits to the fatherland.
the purpose of this visit was to attend a wedding of a cousin (not blood ties, rather, a legacy of friendship that my grandfather continues to nurture). it was in equal parts beautiful+emotional and ostentatious+disturbing. nonetheless, it happened and this paved the way for a long, deep introspection session which will eventually be shelved for want of a feasible solution until i'm forced to think again. actually, the various aspects of the chennai trip tied in to create a reasonably unwanted introspection session when i'm already in the throes of turmoil. i don't want to tap the turmoil potential now, though. it's something i'd rather leave buried in the yard.
i never imagined myself growing so fond of a city which i disntinctly loathed the first time i set eyes on it. there were certain moments, though, which i relished even back in the dark ages especially the mandatory visit to nalli (mumbai nalli cannot top it or even come close to it by a mile). though it's expanded to almost unimaginable proportions, that heady smell of mallee (flower like jasmine) in the air conditioning still greets you through open doors of the whitewashed institution as you walk in from the hot, sultry streets of panagal park. small time shopkeepers selling everything from flowers to bangles and bindis to amla, ginger and green pepper and fruit by the plate stand discreetly near the entrance enticing you with the sheer riot of colour. nouveau riche joints like saravana stores, rmkv and the like really draw the junta but they possess none of the charm, tradition and classiness that nalli does.
let's be fair here, though. it isn't as if nalli is the ultimate place to shop but certainly is a good place to start. there are reasonably established places like rangachari and radha silks (rasi) as well as tiny boutiques that pepper the chennai clothes-shopping landscape. personally, i have a fondness for shopping in exclusive nooks with a relaxed, cozy atmosphere. these blink and you miss places were a huge factor that caused chennai's ratings soar in my books.
another important factor in any place is the food. it can really make or break not just a city but an entire region, especially in a country like india. sadly, though, the food in chennai isn't nearly as good as some of the other places. in this respect, bangalore and ahmedabad are far more passionate about food and you'd have a handful of well priced places that can surprise you with sheer innovativeness at best and run of the mill but mouth watering fare at the least. even the coffee wasn't as orgasmic as i'd like it to be- this was a massive sore point.
rediscovered the hindu, chennai edition. in a day and age when you have the internet and 24 hour news channels for the daily dose of happenings in the world, you really don't need newspapers. there are very few publications that can actually make print journalism seem worthwhile despite newer media springing up with an almost alarming regularity and the hindu, chennai is one of them. it really doesn't get better than this- the brilliant and consisitent quality of writing, the complete grasp of information that the hindu journos possess over the subject and the razor sharp editing and proofing are the reasons that the hindu doesn't have to shout out its presence unlike its counterparts like mumbai. good journalism doesn't require guerilla marketing, twisting figures of abc/ readership surveys or witty taglines on hoardings. it just requires a tubelight hoarding with nothing but a masthead that lingers permanently like a polite sigh over this southern metropolis' changing landscape.
there are things that i long to talk about but can't for lack of ability to pin down my expressions and arrive at why they affected me the way they did- little signs, small places that would seem insignificant at first but which would, in retrospection hold the key to where chennai is going to be. there are places, too, that i couldn't see which i wish i can in the near future. nonetheless, as change blossoms, in erstwhile madars, one can only hope that it escapes the rut that the other megapolis have fallen into and retain its individuality or if nothing, let stand the whitewashed facade and mallee atmosphere of nalli, panagal park.
just returned from chennai today. maybe staying in mumbai too long has made my immunity to the charms of various places a tad weak. or maybe with time, space, effort and change, i've learnt to disassociate myself from the horridness of chennai. perhaps, it has really come a long way. whatever it is, chennai 2007 will be the golden age of all my visits to the fatherland.
the purpose of this visit was to attend a wedding of a cousin (not blood ties, rather, a legacy of friendship that my grandfather continues to nurture). it was in equal parts beautiful+emotional and ostentatious+disturbing. nonetheless, it happened and this paved the way for a long, deep introspection session which will eventually be shelved for want of a feasible solution until i'm forced to think again. actually, the various aspects of the chennai trip tied in to create a reasonably unwanted introspection session when i'm already in the throes of turmoil. i don't want to tap the turmoil potential now, though. it's something i'd rather leave buried in the yard.
i never imagined myself growing so fond of a city which i disntinctly loathed the first time i set eyes on it. there were certain moments, though, which i relished even back in the dark ages especially the mandatory visit to nalli (mumbai nalli cannot top it or even come close to it by a mile). though it's expanded to almost unimaginable proportions, that heady smell of mallee (flower like jasmine) in the air conditioning still greets you through open doors of the whitewashed institution as you walk in from the hot, sultry streets of panagal park. small time shopkeepers selling everything from flowers to bangles and bindis to amla, ginger and green pepper and fruit by the plate stand discreetly near the entrance enticing you with the sheer riot of colour. nouveau riche joints like saravana stores, rmkv and the like really draw the junta but they possess none of the charm, tradition and classiness that nalli does.
let's be fair here, though. it isn't as if nalli is the ultimate place to shop but certainly is a good place to start. there are reasonably established places like rangachari and radha silks (rasi) as well as tiny boutiques that pepper the chennai clothes-shopping landscape. personally, i have a fondness for shopping in exclusive nooks with a relaxed, cozy atmosphere. these blink and you miss places were a huge factor that caused chennai's ratings soar in my books.
another important factor in any place is the food. it can really make or break not just a city but an entire region, especially in a country like india. sadly, though, the food in chennai isn't nearly as good as some of the other places. in this respect, bangalore and ahmedabad are far more passionate about food and you'd have a handful of well priced places that can surprise you with sheer innovativeness at best and run of the mill but mouth watering fare at the least. even the coffee wasn't as orgasmic as i'd like it to be- this was a massive sore point.
rediscovered the hindu, chennai edition. in a day and age when you have the internet and 24 hour news channels for the daily dose of happenings in the world, you really don't need newspapers. there are very few publications that can actually make print journalism seem worthwhile despite newer media springing up with an almost alarming regularity and the hindu, chennai is one of them. it really doesn't get better than this- the brilliant and consisitent quality of writing, the complete grasp of information that the hindu journos possess over the subject and the razor sharp editing and proofing are the reasons that the hindu doesn't have to shout out its presence unlike its counterparts like mumbai. good journalism doesn't require guerilla marketing, twisting figures of abc/ readership surveys or witty taglines on hoardings. it just requires a tubelight hoarding with nothing but a masthead that lingers permanently like a polite sigh over this southern metropolis' changing landscape.
there are things that i long to talk about but can't for lack of ability to pin down my expressions and arrive at why they affected me the way they did- little signs, small places that would seem insignificant at first but which would, in retrospection hold the key to where chennai is going to be. there are places, too, that i couldn't see which i wish i can in the near future. nonetheless, as change blossoms, in erstwhile madars, one can only hope that it escapes the rut that the other megapolis have fallen into and retain its individuality or if nothing, let stand the whitewashed facade and mallee atmosphere of nalli, panagal park.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Macchan, macchan, macchan ne...
Rajnikanth is one of the greatest common denominators of pucca Southies all around the World. You're a qualified southie if you like Rajnikanth. You're not Southie if you don't.
History textbooks will speak of Shivaji Rao Gaekwad's invasion of Tamil Nadu as more potent than any previous Maratha invasion. He's got the charm, the grace and that spark to tap into the pulse the tamil speaking conscience which Chhatrapati Shivaji didn't possess.
I digress, though. My intention is not to carry forward further information on Indian Journalism's topic du jour.
Sivaji is an IT hotshot who has returned from the 'States to do his bit of Corporate Social Responsibility and the not so noble intention of producing spawn to add to the already burgeoning population of the Indian subcontinent.
Noble intentions (CSR) are thwarted by red-tape system and Iyengar named Adiseshan. There comes a point where our hero is penniless but strikes back at Adi by playing his own game. Having accomplished his main mission, he goes on to save all of Tamil Nadu and in the meantime, marry the woman of his dreams.
Moral of the story: Micro finance is going to put India in the G-10 by 2015.
Sivaji's Production Values were what left me screaming for more. In order of what impressed the most- gorgeous camera work, slick action sequences, superb makeup (let's face it, the 58 year old Rajnikanth shed about 20 years. Easy.), brilliant dialogues (execution was wonderful- kudos to all the actors, not one of them was shoddy.), good clothes (I think this is possibly the best that the Tamil entertainment industry has seen by far. Out of a period movie, that is. Naturally, there were glitches including this unforgivable one where the lead actress' boring beige underwear was showing when it shouldn't have.), lovely background score (the songs were just okay, dances didn't excite.)
High points of the movie: Rajnikanth-Vivek chemistry. Rajnikanth and clan pataoing Tamizhselvi (Shriya). Rajnikanth. Move over, Superman, Batman and Robin Hood.
History textbooks will speak of Shivaji Rao Gaekwad's invasion of Tamil Nadu as more potent than any previous Maratha invasion. He's got the charm, the grace and that spark to tap into the pulse the tamil speaking conscience which Chhatrapati Shivaji didn't possess.
I digress, though. My intention is not to carry forward further information on Indian Journalism's topic du jour.
Sivaji is an IT hotshot who has returned from the 'States to do his bit of Corporate Social Responsibility and the not so noble intention of producing spawn to add to the already burgeoning population of the Indian subcontinent.
Noble intentions (CSR) are thwarted by red-tape system and Iyengar named Adiseshan. There comes a point where our hero is penniless but strikes back at Adi by playing his own game. Having accomplished his main mission, he goes on to save all of Tamil Nadu and in the meantime, marry the woman of his dreams.
Moral of the story: Micro finance is going to put India in the G-10 by 2015.
Sivaji's Production Values were what left me screaming for more. In order of what impressed the most- gorgeous camera work, slick action sequences, superb makeup (let's face it, the 58 year old Rajnikanth shed about 20 years. Easy.), brilliant dialogues (execution was wonderful- kudos to all the actors, not one of them was shoddy.), good clothes (I think this is possibly the best that the Tamil entertainment industry has seen by far. Out of a period movie, that is. Naturally, there were glitches including this unforgivable one where the lead actress' boring beige underwear was showing when it shouldn't have.), lovely background score (the songs were just okay, dances didn't excite.)
High points of the movie: Rajnikanth-Vivek chemistry. Rajnikanth and clan pataoing Tamizhselvi (Shriya). Rajnikanth. Move over, Superman, Batman and Robin Hood.
Friday, April 27, 2007
south of the border, west of the sun
i don't remember the last time that i felt *this* depressed after a book.
"south of the border, west of the sun" really fucked up my circuits and it's getting me to evaluate murakami's position in my favourite authors list.
it's standard murakami- fucked up characters, strange incidents (including strange sex) and all the trappings of a consumerist society that's beyond redemption.
but this one was just depressing simply because of the idiocy of the central character- hajime. and the fact that this was so uncomfortably close to the truth of my existence and that of my friends.
then again, murakami's magic realism and his short stories (at this point in time, i can't help but smile about "family affairs" and "kangaroo communique") really helps pull his act together to retain his position in my list of favourite writers.
1984 was paranoia. martian time slip was that inaccessible world. cakes and ale will always be fascination. everyman redefined loneliness. the 100% perfect girl was love. and south of the border, west of the sun- it will be loss.
"south of the border, west of the sun" really fucked up my circuits and it's getting me to evaluate murakami's position in my favourite authors list.
it's standard murakami- fucked up characters, strange incidents (including strange sex) and all the trappings of a consumerist society that's beyond redemption.
but this one was just depressing simply because of the idiocy of the central character- hajime. and the fact that this was so uncomfortably close to the truth of my existence and that of my friends.
then again, murakami's magic realism and his short stories (at this point in time, i can't help but smile about "family affairs" and "kangaroo communique") really helps pull his act together to retain his position in my list of favourite writers.
1984 was paranoia. martian time slip was that inaccessible world. cakes and ale will always be fascination. everyman redefined loneliness. the 100% perfect girl was love. and south of the border, west of the sun- it will be loss.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
the wiki.
maybe i'm just spending more time actually browsing these days, but it seems to me that there are more wikis around than i previously imagined.
the first time i heard of a wiki was when my friend, A had/visited (not sure) a wiki outlining all the annotations on alan moore's v for vendetta.
some time lapsed before i stumbled on the wiki detailing all the er.. "happenings" connected to nine inch nails' year zero (for the uninitiated, check out the link which is my post before last). Today, again, i was reading the wiki dedicated to warren ellis' "doktor sleepless". Of course, there are all those artist wikis on last.fm...
the wiki concept is one solid step ahead to making sense of the information overload. i don't know whether academicians use wikis or not to organise their references, but considering the massive bodies of work that they reference and cross-reference, it would be a fairly prudent thing to do.
from what i could gather of warren ellis' interview on comicbookresources.com, the wiki can also be a sort of an extended back matter- it goes beyond the standard 2-3 pages that comes with the printed edition and helps create an entire context, particularly for readers not quite familiar with ellis...
"It's there to gather up all the information inside the book...There's more information written than could possibly be fitted inside the narrative of the comic itself -- at least, not without completely distorting the shape of the narrative and doubling the book's run. It's also there for people to play with. There's a complete backdrop and mythology to 'Doktor Sleepless,' and the wiki will allow people to make connections between it all, and perhaps see what some of the characters are really up to... I was inspired by the 'Lost' wiki project, where the first connection was made between a screenshot of the 'boatbillies' and the Dutch scientists involved in Dharma. If you work hard enough, then you can provide enough material that interested readers can find a whole new level of engagement with the work."
the first time i heard of a wiki was when my friend, A had/visited (not sure) a wiki outlining all the annotations on alan moore's v for vendetta.
some time lapsed before i stumbled on the wiki detailing all the er.. "happenings" connected to nine inch nails' year zero (for the uninitiated, check out the link which is my post before last). Today, again, i was reading the wiki dedicated to warren ellis' "doktor sleepless". Of course, there are all those artist wikis on last.fm...
the wiki concept is one solid step ahead to making sense of the information overload. i don't know whether academicians use wikis or not to organise their references, but considering the massive bodies of work that they reference and cross-reference, it would be a fairly prudent thing to do.
from what i could gather of warren ellis' interview on comicbookresources.com, the wiki can also be a sort of an extended back matter- it goes beyond the standard 2-3 pages that comes with the printed edition and helps create an entire context, particularly for readers not quite familiar with ellis...
"It's there to gather up all the information inside the book...There's more information written than could possibly be fitted inside the narrative of the comic itself -- at least, not without completely distorting the shape of the narrative and doubling the book's run. It's also there for people to play with. There's a complete backdrop and mythology to 'Doktor Sleepless,' and the wiki will allow people to make connections between it all, and perhaps see what some of the characters are really up to... I was inspired by the 'Lost' wiki project, where the first connection was made between a screenshot of the 'boatbillies' and the Dutch scientists involved in Dharma. If you work hard enough, then you can provide enough material that interested readers can find a whole new level of engagement with the work."
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
dreams and the endless
i promised that i'd write on experiential marketing.
instead, i'll write on the sweet, seemingly endless sleep of hashish- it's an experience to be cherished, especially since sleep in otherwise normal circumstances is a fleeting, furitive presence.
add to that the heat waves that linger when the summer sun is long gone, the sweat streaming from my body and the lack of desire for anything worth living for.
i realise now, though, that writing about a hash trip ruins the very foundations it stands on... it's an esoteric bond between the individual and the endless. i don't know and i won't comment on who is worthy of it, what the best hash is or why it is taboo.
all i know is that i long to bow down to the endless and get enveloped in parvati's womb. over and over and over again. for the dreams of hashish are the elements of the endless.
instead, i'll write on the sweet, seemingly endless sleep of hashish- it's an experience to be cherished, especially since sleep in otherwise normal circumstances is a fleeting, furitive presence.
add to that the heat waves that linger when the summer sun is long gone, the sweat streaming from my body and the lack of desire for anything worth living for.
i realise now, though, that writing about a hash trip ruins the very foundations it stands on... it's an esoteric bond between the individual and the endless. i don't know and i won't comment on who is worthy of it, what the best hash is or why it is taboo.
all i know is that i long to bow down to the endless and get enveloped in parvati's womb. over and over and over again. for the dreams of hashish are the elements of the endless.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
slowly speed my aching need...
on this space that has been christened raskolnikovna, i thought i'll probably do a series of essays on "globalization", particularly the fallacies of the term "anti-globalization" and how it belies a cause that's perhaps a shining testimony to the concept of "globalization" itself
however...
a. this requires much reading and reference work and all that fancy academic shit.
b. i was listening to 12 rounds this morning.
12 rounds can be classified as post-rock, industrial and shoegaze... as is my wont, i can't and i won't genrify the band. 12 rounds is not the kind of band that would induce you to take up suicide attempts or serial killing or pissing off born again christians as a full time occupation.
what makes the genius of claude sarne and her buddies refreshingly different are the totally off the kilter lyrics rendered in the smokiest, huskiest voice since beth gibbons of portishead. smokier and huskier, even.
oh, and if you do feel a tad doped, don't be surprised, 12 rounds does that to you sometimes.
do sample the lyrics while the going is good...
Sodomize the rage in space and watch your red red sky
Fill my heart with happiness and give me reasons why
Slowly speed my aching need no more so old so new
Breathe in me don't fight just be
Call your own come be my home
Ripped up sideways chained to Always
Spread so wide so true
Scratch the very life that fed
And sucked his fingers blue
Breathe in me don't fight just be
Call your own come be my home
Love the way he puts it
ripped and chained but I loved it
In as much
Strange daze
however...
a. this requires much reading and reference work and all that fancy academic shit.
b. i was listening to 12 rounds this morning.
12 rounds can be classified as post-rock, industrial and shoegaze... as is my wont, i can't and i won't genrify the band. 12 rounds is not the kind of band that would induce you to take up suicide attempts or serial killing or pissing off born again christians as a full time occupation.
what makes the genius of claude sarne and her buddies refreshingly different are the totally off the kilter lyrics rendered in the smokiest, huskiest voice since beth gibbons of portishead. smokier and huskier, even.
oh, and if you do feel a tad doped, don't be surprised, 12 rounds does that to you sometimes.
do sample the lyrics while the going is good...
Sodomize the rage in space and watch your red red sky
Fill my heart with happiness and give me reasons why
Slowly speed my aching need no more so old so new
Breathe in me don't fight just be
Call your own come be my home
Ripped up sideways chained to Always
Spread so wide so true
Scratch the very life that fed
And sucked his fingers blue
Breathe in me don't fight just be
Call your own come be my home
Love the way he puts it
ripped and chained but I loved it
In as much
Strange daze
Thursday, March 1, 2007
addendum to art fart.
this is going to be a narrative either at the beginning or the end of "city of joys", my latest apocryphal art project...
roland joffe missed an 's' at the end of 'city of joy'. i mean, joy can't be a unique factor in any city, let alone kolkata.
it is a city that is abound with joys. small joys, big joys. simple joys, fancy joys. uptown joys, downtown joys. legitimate joys, bastard joys. morning joys, night joys. straight joys, gay joys.
joy cometh in the morning. or so thinks wodehouse. joys can cometh when they are sufficiently aroused. sexually, i mean.
joy isn't simply an emotion in kolkata. joy is very likely your next door neighbour.
joy is joyonto.
roland joffe missed an 's' at the end of 'city of joy'. i mean, joy can't be a unique factor in any city, let alone kolkata.
it is a city that is abound with joys. small joys, big joys. simple joys, fancy joys. uptown joys, downtown joys. legitimate joys, bastard joys. morning joys, night joys. straight joys, gay joys.
joy cometh in the morning. or so thinks wodehouse. joys can cometh when they are sufficiently aroused. sexually, i mean.
joy isn't simply an emotion in kolkata. joy is very likely your next door neighbour.
joy is joyonto.
art fart
there is roland joffe's "city of joy". fortunately or unfortunately, this celluloid um... work has remained just a name to me and yet, it gave me inspiration and much er... joy on an idle wednesday morning.
joyonto or joyanta is a fairly common bengali name.
those who can see what i'm getting at can shut their traps and get the godsfuck out of here before you are tempted to question my intelligence or my sanity. for those who don't, here's the blueprint...
these hm... species are called "joy" for short. and there's easily a million of them in kolkata. imagine getting at least 20% of them to congregate in several well-known locations in kolkata thru' the viral sms thing. get a decent enough camera- nothing fancy, just a handycam. script is one simple line- "hi, i'm joy". no acting required. no makeup. no leading woman. sharp editing topped off with a decent enough music score (say, durga pooja music- "joyo, joyo he mahishasura moddhini, etc.)
best short action film at the oscars' is mine next year.
next post: what i'll wear to the oscars'.
joyonto or joyanta is a fairly common bengali name.
those who can see what i'm getting at can shut their traps and get the godsfuck out of here before you are tempted to question my intelligence or my sanity. for those who don't, here's the blueprint...
these hm... species are called "joy" for short. and there's easily a million of them in kolkata. imagine getting at least 20% of them to congregate in several well-known locations in kolkata thru' the viral sms thing. get a decent enough camera- nothing fancy, just a handycam. script is one simple line- "hi, i'm joy". no acting required. no makeup. no leading woman. sharp editing topped off with a decent enough music score (say, durga pooja music- "joyo, joyo he mahishasura moddhini, etc.)
best short action film at the oscars' is mine next year.
next post: what i'll wear to the oscars'.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
if i were a character in an indie flick...
... i'd be the nosejob.
and my speciality would be slitting people's throats *halal style* and pulling their brains out through their nostrils once they have been thoroughly bled.
and my speciality would be slitting people's throats *halal style* and pulling their brains out through their nostrils once they have been thoroughly bled.
Monday, February 5, 2007
kicking up a 'crorepati' storm.
quiz shows. there's something about them that disrupts an otherwise stable psyche at an individual level and at a macro level- it causes people to think irrationally, changing the world as we know it. kaun banega crorepati whipped up a fury at its inception and the one thing that has stayed common through these three seasons, other than the fact that its airing on Star Plus, is the fact that it continues to kick up a storm at the least or a tornado, at best.
the third season of kbc has had pretty much the same effect on the media and marketing circles as satan puckering up to an innocent virgin child. 24 hour news channels and media journals have managed to further confuse an already perplexed audience by weilding the ratings weapon- some fucking dipshit thought it would be a brilliant idea to compare kbc 3 with the previous season.
fuck the fact that universe sizes have changed since season 2, the entire fucking realm of television has undergone a paradigm shift. plus, let's not forget the weekday-weekend split- no point comparing a weekday show with a weekend show.
kbc 2 aired on weekends and was the perfect launching ground for baa, bahoo and baby on the 10 o'clock weekend slot. the 8.30 show that aired from monday to thursday saw a new lease on life when it was extended to friday. post kbc 2, however, the 9 to 10 weekday slot on star plus just rolled over and died like a st. bernard that had suffered too long and too painfully. as far as programming heads go, kbc 3 is the beautiful rebound for an audience that had moved on to Zee, kasamh se.
star plus is doing pretty fine, really, if you go past the TAM ratings and check out the aMap ratings. for the uninitiated, TAM's ratings come out an entire week later, aMap gives out ratings overnight. take the aMap ratings, write the dates against each day and plot 'em on a line graph. Star Plus is doing pretty neatly, really. for those who really want to look at an in depth analysis, check out this piece.
if the oms-hansa study is anything to go by, shah rukh khan is doing his job just fine in helping star plus (and in turn, marketers) reach out to a younger audience. it's going to be a while before kbc 3 does a titanic if you really consider the facts...
the third season of kbc has had pretty much the same effect on the media and marketing circles as satan puckering up to an innocent virgin child. 24 hour news channels and media journals have managed to further confuse an already perplexed audience by weilding the ratings weapon- some fucking dipshit thought it would be a brilliant idea to compare kbc 3 with the previous season.
fuck the fact that universe sizes have changed since season 2, the entire fucking realm of television has undergone a paradigm shift. plus, let's not forget the weekday-weekend split- no point comparing a weekday show with a weekend show.
kbc 2 aired on weekends and was the perfect launching ground for baa, bahoo and baby on the 10 o'clock weekend slot. the 8.30 show that aired from monday to thursday saw a new lease on life when it was extended to friday. post kbc 2, however, the 9 to 10 weekday slot on star plus just rolled over and died like a st. bernard that had suffered too long and too painfully. as far as programming heads go, kbc 3 is the beautiful rebound for an audience that had moved on to Zee, kasamh se.
star plus is doing pretty fine, really, if you go past the TAM ratings and check out the aMap ratings. for the uninitiated, TAM's ratings come out an entire week later, aMap gives out ratings overnight. take the aMap ratings, write the dates against each day and plot 'em on a line graph. Star Plus is doing pretty neatly, really. for those who really want to look at an in depth analysis, check out this piece.
if the oms-hansa study is anything to go by, shah rukh khan is doing his job just fine in helping star plus (and in turn, marketers) reach out to a younger audience. it's going to be a while before kbc 3 does a titanic if you really consider the facts...
Friday, February 2, 2007
what is a raskolnikovna?
a raskolnikovna is an obscure female species found lurking in urban areas (preferably metros). it is possible, however, to find raskolnikovnas hanging around rural areas (where cigarettes and chai are available) on occasion.
a raskolnikovna is pro-globalization, but possesses the habits found in government officers from more communist regimes (maoist). a very redeeming trait of a raskolnikovna is the desire for all things obscure, right from music to coffee beans. they are part-punjabi, part-maharashtrian, gujarati, irish and tam brahm, especially on the ethno-centric front.
this creature has a love-hate relationship with the media field. she enjoys criticizing dipshits employed in creative, client servicing and acting, while taking the occasional swipe at journalists, particularly desktop writers. while it is expected that she would have a healthy respect for scientists, engineers, accountants and other "respectable" professions, the truth is, she just finds them fucking boring and not nearly as much fun to taunt as mediapeople. raskolnikovnas take their professions as "media researchers" a little too seriously, researching everything from the latest campaign plugged by amsterdam's single location agency, 360 to India's finest cult flicks (read, mithunda starrers directed by kanti shah).
raskolnikovnas take to plagiarizing just because they don't happen to possess any talent to string two words together coherently. they abuse ellipses, let loose entire armies of fragments and almost invariably end a subject abruptly much to the chagrin to copy editors. a raskolnikovna's idea of art is to take lyrics du jour and render it in typographic styles that defy all rules of this high art or any sense of aesthetics for that matter. they have a penchant for trebuchet.
raskolnikovnas love movies. one of the few things they actually pay attention to. they also read movie scripts on occasion. this particular raskolnikovna's current favourite dialogues include "you rock, rock" from i heart huckabees, samuel l. jackson's "did i break your concentration?" from that dialogue-ricochet worthy tarantino classic, Pulp fiction and bhulla's achingly beautiful outburst of grief to his raped and left for dead sister- "maine tere liye teen sau ladke dekhe rakhe the. woh bhi chikne."
food is a fine way to lure a raskolnikovna. as a matter of fact, raskolnikovnas know festivals, communities and countries by food. never contest with a raskolnikovna on the matter of vegetarianism, chocolates and alcohol. raskolnikovnas worship coffee and accord the highest respect to south indian mamis (and mamas) who can make that perfect cuppa kaapi.
around the time that their uterus walls start chipping away every month, raskolnikovnas slip into depression and end up listening to slowdive, death cab for cutie or worse still, leonard cohen's "hallelujah" on loop for hours on end. they are unpredictable, especially when it comes to cigarette brands or for that matter, cigarettes consumed in a day.
raskolnikovnas adore their friends and despise them when it's all over. stability is merely a collection of letters that doesn't make much sense. a raskolnikovna's zodiac sign includes aquarius, capricorn, scorpio and the slightest hint of gemini. in other words, there's no telling what a raskolnikovna will do next.
raskolnikovnas can look like anything from a chamathu iyer ponnu to something that the cat threw away. they think that masters' degrees are necessary only to look good on a matrimonial site. a raskolnikovna's worst nightmare is migrating to america. period.
while this is no introduction to what this particular raskolnikovna is going to write next, you know what not to ask a raskolnikovna. ever. again.
a raskolnikovna is pro-globalization, but possesses the habits found in government officers from more communist regimes (maoist). a very redeeming trait of a raskolnikovna is the desire for all things obscure, right from music to coffee beans. they are part-punjabi, part-maharashtrian, gujarati, irish and tam brahm, especially on the ethno-centric front.
this creature has a love-hate relationship with the media field. she enjoys criticizing dipshits employed in creative, client servicing and acting, while taking the occasional swipe at journalists, particularly desktop writers. while it is expected that she would have a healthy respect for scientists, engineers, accountants and other "respectable" professions, the truth is, she just finds them fucking boring and not nearly as much fun to taunt as mediapeople. raskolnikovnas take their professions as "media researchers" a little too seriously, researching everything from the latest campaign plugged by amsterdam's single location agency, 360 to India's finest cult flicks (read, mithunda starrers directed by kanti shah).
raskolnikovnas take to plagiarizing just because they don't happen to possess any talent to string two words together coherently. they abuse ellipses, let loose entire armies of fragments and almost invariably end a subject abruptly much to the chagrin to copy editors. a raskolnikovna's idea of art is to take lyrics du jour and render it in typographic styles that defy all rules of this high art or any sense of aesthetics for that matter. they have a penchant for trebuchet.
raskolnikovnas love movies. one of the few things they actually pay attention to. they also read movie scripts on occasion. this particular raskolnikovna's current favourite dialogues include "you rock, rock" from i heart huckabees, samuel l. jackson's "did i break your concentration?" from that dialogue-ricochet worthy tarantino classic, Pulp fiction and bhulla's achingly beautiful outburst of grief to his raped and left for dead sister- "maine tere liye teen sau ladke dekhe rakhe the. woh bhi chikne."
food is a fine way to lure a raskolnikovna. as a matter of fact, raskolnikovnas know festivals, communities and countries by food. never contest with a raskolnikovna on the matter of vegetarianism, chocolates and alcohol. raskolnikovnas worship coffee and accord the highest respect to south indian mamis (and mamas) who can make that perfect cuppa kaapi.
around the time that their uterus walls start chipping away every month, raskolnikovnas slip into depression and end up listening to slowdive, death cab for cutie or worse still, leonard cohen's "hallelujah" on loop for hours on end. they are unpredictable, especially when it comes to cigarette brands or for that matter, cigarettes consumed in a day.
raskolnikovnas adore their friends and despise them when it's all over. stability is merely a collection of letters that doesn't make much sense. a raskolnikovna's zodiac sign includes aquarius, capricorn, scorpio and the slightest hint of gemini. in other words, there's no telling what a raskolnikovna will do next.
raskolnikovnas can look like anything from a chamathu iyer ponnu to something that the cat threw away. they think that masters' degrees are necessary only to look good on a matrimonial site. a raskolnikovna's worst nightmare is migrating to america. period.
while this is no introduction to what this particular raskolnikovna is going to write next, you know what not to ask a raskolnikovna. ever. again.
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