Khakra

Winners and losers in debt-ceiling debacle

2011-07-27T19:52:00.000-07:00

Newspapers are hee-hawing about everyone losing with debt-ceiling problems looming. Who said so? Conan the Barbarian or He-man the Stupid?

WINNERS:

Debt ceiling: Aah, I *finally* know what it means.

Harry Potter: Cashed in before the debt ceiling fell.

Nuts: Glad the politicians joined their ilk. Also glad the politicians got kicked around.

Venezuela: I guess America's problems benefit enemies?

Pubs: Halls were crowded with frustrated, angry people looking for a pint to sink the debt-ceiling pain.

Air conditioner: Remained cool and raised electricity bills without the ceiling crashing.

Chewbacca: Furball talked about debt-ceiling problem centuries ago, just no one understood him.

Tea Partiers: John McCain called them "hobbits," Tea Partiers revelled in joy of being compared to world's top fiction book(s)

NFL: Struck a deal with players without using the words "debt" and "ceiling."

Hawaii: Realized they had the option to join China as a state after breaking away from the US.

God: For once, not blamed for problems

LOSERS

Tea Party: America's biggest reformer turned second-worst enemy after Al-Qaeda

Texas: Found out Tea Partiers want to make them independent state, make George Dubya chief cowboy

Republicans: Wants to ban term Tea Party, because they are held in Russia

Joe Walsh: No "compromise," Tea Party dumbass. OK with interest rate rise, loss of triple-A rating, his reelection loss

Fox News: After decades of bashing Democrats, suddenly had to choose between Republicans or Tea Partiers

Martial arts: Suddenly realizes that Tea Partiers were actually studying mouth boxing

CNN: Tired Anderson Cooper hates covering debt ceiling, realizes his white hair is growing grey

Nintendo: Glad many Tea Partiers will be voted out in next election, will buy Wii to pass time

Obama fan club: Tea Partiers want to prove Obama is an alien that beamed in debt ceiling from an outside galaxy

Planet of the Apes: Realized they have competition in Washington

Debt ceiling: Finds out it has been banned from dictionaries by irate readers

Rap music: Cursing debt ceiling makes lyrics more intelligent

The split second music mystery

2011-03-26T13:50:00.000-07:00

Bollywood songs rarely play on Pandora, but when they do, I hear with plenty of interest. One such song "Yehi Meri Zindagi Hai" hit the waves that day. As is with me, I treat each song like a mystery movie, with suspense unwrapping to reveal a fine gift that jolts a pensive mind.

The song starts just like any Bollypop song, nice instrumentation with some great traditional Indian riffs. A female's vocals come on a few minutes later, and the lyrics indicated it could be filmed around a woman having a good time.

Then came the stunner: she sang "Yehi Meri Zindagi" with a classical Indian tone that slides for a second. It slowly got back to a pop mode just a second later. Clearly, this woman had trained in Indian classical music, she sang it like the great Indian classical singers. It bought a bit of a twist to the song, and a split second of listening joy. Rest of the song? Pop music, I'd say.

Bollywood music has come a long way. My parents think the old music was great, some misguidance came along in 80s and 90s when pop music from Europe and the U.S. invaded Bollywood songs. Then came AR Rahman, the experimentation, which raised the bar. And now we're hearing classical Indian making appearance in pop. Can't get any better, especially for a person who can't listen to classical Indian endlessly.

Happens so that singer is Aditi Singh Sharma. She's uneven at best during the song in switching between classical and pop, though she's kinda good lower tones at which Indian classical music becomes becomes such a joy. But she's young, and will learn. I'd like to hear her on an AR Rahman song.

And sorry for being away too long. Extended writer's block, perhaps. A bit of word shy, perhaps. It comes and goes.

In New York

2010-03-07T10:12:00.000-08:00

For the curious, I moved to New York last month (from San Francisco). I've been a bit more passive aggressive ever since, don't know why.

Perhaps it's the weather. Many questioned the timing of my move in February. I move, and down comes a record amount of snowfall for NYC in a month. Including the fourth worst storm since the 1860s.

Perhaps it's the people? I can't say, but I can get lunch here in 2 minutes. The lines run quicker, the people just push you out of the way. Find myself walking faster from anyone who looks in a hurry.

Perhaps it's the attitude. San Francisco was pretty laid back . I could maintain what felt like a anonymous and sedentary lifestyle though I ran, did martial arts, walked up hills. Here, it's all about avoiding getting spotted by a girl by Indian aunties roaming the streets.

Given, the speed's a bit surprising. But a glass of wine once in a while takes care of that.

Conspiracy theorists around the Mumbai blasts

2008-12-22T01:50:00.000-08:00

Noises still come from the Mumbai blasts. The muted sounds barely envelope tragic events of that day. Some friends had a close call, locked up at home as the drama played out next door.

For some, it was too close. A couple my parents knew perished in the Taj, shot close to the lobby, and their two young children are now orphaned. I shudder thinking what life will be like for those kids.

There will never be closure for those kids, as they have to live with this tragedy for the rest of their life. But, hopefully, in time the case will be resolved and India will be better equipped to deal with attacks like these. A timeline has emerged and Indian authorities are solving the mystery.

Sure, the government will cover up some stuff to save their a**. But there are other crazies trying to make hay of it. Among them is a conspiracy theorist who wrote this article for Rediff.com on why US doesn't want India to get a hold of Dawood.

The author goes on with a windy (yawn) and disjointed explanation of how Dawood Ibrahim is a CIA asset, which is why the U.S. doesn't want him in Indian hands. The stories is so full of holes that it makes me cry.

The biggest hole: the author presumes Dawood is a U.S. friend. Sir, the U.S. Department of State has assigned him as a global terrorist. The U.S. is *looking for him*. The author talks about him as if he were some garden-variety criminal having a siesta in a park on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

Organized crime conducted by guys like Ibrahim is merging with terrorism, and the U.S. government is fighting it, not supporting it. Ibrahim not being sought by the CIA would have been a great 1980s story, but it is irrelevant now. Ibrahim's story draws parallels with the arms dealer Viktor Bout, who arrested in Thailand and could be extradited to the U.S.

The article also shows how deluded the author is. He seems to belong to a group of people who believe 9/11 was Bush's fault. Well, if your view is tainted right from the get-go, cracks emerge in understanding government, the system and ultimately, the viewpoint.

So the author fancies himself an editor of a website journal that publishes stuff from the who's who of nightmare wannabe foreign journalists. Other raggedy scum articles he has written read like cinema verité.

He's not studied foreign policy academically, nor has he spent professional time in the field. Other than writing for no-name websites, his most legit qualification is receiving a thanks in a book as a research assistant.

It's totally ok for him to fulfill some kind of pipedream or midsummer revival. But it burns to see him feeding people the kind of crap that should be toilet-bound. Indians have lived through the tragedy, the guy's just cashing in by blowing more smoke.

Thanks, but no thanks. Indians don't need that.

Punching foreign policy in the face

2008-08-27T17:02:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how politicians come together at the Democratic National Convention for nothing but show. They hide their hatred for a few days, sing and dance together for a few days. Some even cry pointlessly on speeches, so taken they are by the moment.

From what I've heard, that is a giant change from decades ago, when these gatherings were the flashpoint where conflicts came to the forefront. The camaraderie this time was too ultrasweet, so fake. But it was fun to watch.

The coolest image was of a sardarji clapping his hand, singing "Born in the USA" with Melissa Etheridge and the crowd. Wearing an orange turban, the old papaji seemed out of place, looking left and right, hoping he wasn't spoiling the party. He seemingly had no choice but to join the die-hard crowd.

So this was a watershed event, yes. It's great we are witnessing progress in this country. I don't expect much change after the election, but that won't stop me from voting.

For the record, I'm undecided. Obama has lofty -- and somewhat flawed -- ambitions. He isn't on fair ground yet, and McCain doesn't sound like an independent anymore. A decision may come one day before election.

These scenes of celebration are a sharp contrast from Russia, where elections don't seem like watershed event. Yes, there is a level of distrust in elections that citizens don't want to force themselves into. But in some ways that could be changing.

It's tragic that people call up shows and say "the U.S. presidential candidate has to stand up against Russia for what's happening in Georgia." No offense, but those Americans seem ill-informed and would do well to return to college to study geopolitics. (The Georgia event is recycling what's been going in years.)

Candidates react, and say "we will fight Russia." That happened with brave John Kerry, who four years ago hinted at readily invading Russia to get rid of nuclear weapons. A new election, and it's happening all over again. Obama hints he will take action against Russia, but he doesn't mean it. You can't risk pissing off China and India by doing this.

So those kind of campaign threats have raised the heckles of Russians, who then resoundingly vote to keep Putin/his surrogates in office to ensurity security and peace of mind. Like every country, there are voters who really want change. Putin ensures those democratic parties are barred from entering for lack of funding/support, which makes the choice easy.

The rashness of American presidential wannabes to attack Russia creates a ripple effect. Eastern European countries are so tired, they don't trust the U.S. anymore to defend them. Russia's rival Poland doesn't at least. Russia can constantly holler threats, knowing the U.S. can't do anything to defend Poland.

Georgia is in a similar bind. Russia's been threatening it for years across the border, fermenting the independence ideology in South Ossetia and Abkhazia. Despite calls for help, the U.S. is issuing token statements, saying Russia shouldn't be a bad boy.

Georgians are suffering, yes, but the U.S. can't do anything as 1) it doesn't want to mess with Russia and 2) Georgia has no significant sway in U.S. or world policy.

So American presidential wannabes need to be smarter and stop their pointless war calls with its Cold War enemy. Be discrete indeed. It has a ripple effect on the Russian election. It starts with well-informed citizens, and a lot of work is needed. You can't have people calling into news stations because Russia is pissing them off.

And McCain is pushing for Russia to be knocked out of G8 -- the Group of 8 influential countries -- he must be frickin kidding. Shed your thoughts, sure, but think before talking policy. His knowledge of world affairs is better than Obama's, and if he intends to do that, it's better done quietly.

Russia and Georgia, again... yawn??

2008-08-16T01:21:00.000-07:00

So there's this spike in people visiting my blog, specifically to entries on the Russia-Georgia war that I've been writing about for years. It's tragic: the most recent entry mentioned Russia gunning for parts of Georgia, and whaddyaknow, there they are: both countries fighting again.

Guess it's that news of Russia invading Georgia that has piqued people's interests. What surprises me is how US news channels treat this as a brand new development -- it's not.

TV coverage has the usual American razzle dazzle, what fun. Fox News seems to have sent some j-school kid to the Georgia border who manages to extract quotes from locals like "We love America" and "We want freedom."

Here are some talking points:

1) Russia has made incursions into Georgia in the past and the tensions have been high since the Soviet Union broke up, with things spiking in 1995. (Entry).

2) This is not the first time Russia has invaded Georgia. Russia has a constant presence in two Georgian areas: Abkhazia and Georgia. (Entry) It has made many, many incursions into South Ossetia, not just this one. This particular "invasion" is similar to ones in the past. It also has a number of "peacemakers" in the region. (hyuk, hyuk!)

3) Georgia has been protesting for years that Russia is meddling with its internal affairs. (Entry)

4) Georgians are treating people in South Ossetia, which Russia has "invaded," like trash. They want to be a part of Russia, but are being denied by Georgia. (Entry)

There's a North Ossetia too, and that is part of Russia. That is where the tragic Beslan hostage incident took place, where 300 people, including children, were gunned down by Chechen rebels. (Entry)

5) It is widely believed that Georgia prez Mikhail Saakashvili (aka Mikheil) doesn't care about the South Ossetian people -- he's using the war as a tool to boost Georgia's chances to join NATO. The war ending quick may not help Saakashvili. The implications are fair: there's no time to lose.

6) The U.S. doesn't want Georgia in NATO by account of both ongoing conflicts in Abkhazia and South Ossetia.

7) I'm not pro-Russia! I'm mostly passive on this because the war has been on for so long. But this time, Saakashvili's taking a somewha cold-blooded approach in dealing with this. Feeling no pity for Georgia at this point, though I always do in a way.

So that's the basic primer. Don't be too excited -- this will die down, and it'll come back again. It's like a gift that keeps giving. The tension has always been high and Russia and Georgia excitable enough to jump at each other at a minor provocation.

But it's good to see word of the long war reach out to the people, finally.

Few islands building thousands of bridges

2008-07-20T16:07:00.001-07:00

Just a few islands can build bridges that last forever, as proven by China and Russia today. Even islands that turn into the icy tundra for a larger part of the year.

Both are set to sign an agreement to resolve ownership of a few hundred islands on rivers shared by both countries. That should restore broken bonds after decades of disputes involving the islands, which seem typically pointless.

The rivers flow between the frozen tundra of Northeastern China and Siberia, and have been the main source of a rift between the two countries. They've even had a war over the dispute.

Basic details in the article are correct, but some historical data seems inaccurate. It implies Russia holds most of the islands -- incorrect -- many islands were handed over to China after the Soviet Union collapsed.

This seals one of the few serious issues of contention, freeing them to gang up against the US. Russia is apparently handing over some islands out of "goodwill," according to the article. If that is true, Russia will supply plenty of oil along with it. That should supplement China's growing world standing in the energy space.

By no means does this indicate that the two are now buddies however. When I saw the news first, I'm like: "this can't be real!"

Both have demonstrated expansionist ideologies; that won't change. China's squabbling with India for Arunachal and parts of Kashmir. Oh, don't forget Taiwan. Russia is gunning for parts of Georgia and if a grim situation hits the overexposed Eastern Europe, Russia will jump at any chance to gain ground. But then every country is like that.

So what should we expect through this warming of ties? For starters, the trade routes along the Sea of Japan will be freed. Russia will be able to supply oil and weapons to India more freely, with lesser Chinese supervision. China may get better access to Russian oil resources along the sea. It will also get better access to Mongolia, which holds a mostly pro-Russia stance.

When the rivers are operational, trade routes between Russia and China are now freed as well. That should boost trade between Siberia and the Chinese region of Heilongjiang.

Moreover, both countries can now peacefully negotiate a policy to subvert a somewhat confused U.S. foreign policy, which is focused on the Middle East. Don't forget that there are other places where oil exists, not just the Middle East! India gets a lot of its oil from Russia. Time for the U.S. to add another oil front to its foreign policy.

For the fearless

2008-07-08T21:43:00.000-07:00

Take on the fear
You can't ignore
Make it a friend
Open a new door

Your will to live
is stronger than before
So melt those tears
You had in store

Your courageous soul
Is not alone
So write a new song
Set a new tone.

For mom.

How not to write

2008-06-07T13:16:00.000-07:00

What happens when a writer's on crack and goes overboard to write a bloated article that means zippo? You get these types of articles, like the film review of "Sarkar Raj" written by a bloke who thinks he's the illegitimate, "Machiavellan" grandchild of Shakespeare.

I've been a big fan of Amitabh Bachchan since his Sholay days, but the author is the real star of this article. So tragic, yet so funny, I couldn't help but rip this article. Here were my thoughts as I read it. Enjoy.

--

-> Dark, sinister, sinewy and rugged - “Sarkar Raj” is Shakespeare on cocaine. Or the lacerated life of a Thackeray-like family with the concept of spatial harmony becoming meaningless because of the disembodied camera movements.

Incorrect usage of lacerated as a verb. It reflects as a noun. Poorly conjugated. And hello, writer, this is you on cocaine, not Shakespeare. The Shakespearean sentence means crap, cut.

Ram Gopal Varma just doesn’t let the characters be. In “Sarkar”, he observed, studied and pondered on the compelling contexts of political powerplay in the Nagare family.

Studied is an adjective, and if it was meant to be a verb, too many overlapping verbs. Also, illegal construction, contexts is not a legit plural. Reconstruct the sentence. Combine observed, studied and pondered to one verb.

Here he drags the uneasy relationship between patriarch Subhash Nagare (Amitabh Bachchan) and his son (Abhishek) into an arena of exacerbated emotions.

Sentence is in present tense, exacerbated is in past tense. The past participle makes the "emotions" verb irregular. Emotions could read emotion. Look at it closely, the complete sentence means garbage. Cut.

Amar Mohile’s background score doesn’t help the cause. Every discernible space in the soundtrack is saturated with tempestuous sounds straight out of a B-grade horror movie.

Pointless adjectives. Cut. Replace "out of" with "from."

In contrast, the three main characters maintain a poise and serenity that defiantly move in a direction opposed to the one Varma has chosen to take this time.

Move who and what in what direction? Please specify. Then correct the sentence, define "a poise and serenity" as singular or plural nouns (depending on what the reader is trying to reflect, or remove "a") and change move to moves to reflect present tense.

This is an angry film about an angry young man and his uneasily-calm father who define and demonstrate power in different ways.

No hyphen after uneasily. Infact, never use a hyphen after words that end with ly.

“Sarkar Raj” could have been what Coppola’s “Godfather 2″ was to “The Godfather”. Instead, Varma shrouds the characters’ grief and angst in a cryptic chaos.

"A cryptic chaos?" What the f***? Cryptic chaos.

-> What compounds the sense of claustrophobia is that every frame looks cramped.

Now I'm really getting pissed. Bad, absolutely bad construction. Every cramped frame compounds the sense of claustrophobia. (or claustrophic sense).

-> Dilip Prabhawalkar, who played Gandhi in “Lage Raho Munnabhai”, is a machiavellan rural icon here.

Machiavellan? Wrong, it's spelled Machiavellian. Sentence means nothing, cut. I bow to you, oh Shakespeare on crack.

--

And it goes on and on, more and more garbage sentences that torture intelligence. In fact, the article is one giant piece of garbage.

Then comes the question: "Oh, so you think you are a great writer to criticize others?" Granted, I'm not a great writer, I can be especially inconsistent with grammar, but I know my limits and operate within them. And yes, my work is massively ripped before getting published in the New York Times, for example. It never feels good because it exposes my weaknesses.

This was an example of a writer going overboard, trying to achieve what he really can't. So he's trying to show off. His grammar, verb usage, tense, sentence construction, adjectives, everything calls for help. If you can't get enough of him, let me know. I'll post his name.

Is Hilary Clinton the next Bush?

2008-04-23T17:38:00.000-07:00

Clinton's claiming she's leading in the popular vote over Obama, counting states that weren't to be part of a Democratic ballot. That's like telling people "well, in the big picture, we might as well count the votes I got to become New York Senator."

She's lying to herself, lying to the people and asking for "trust." Ridiculous. I won't trust her, though I used to. She's challenging my intelligence with outrageous claims like that, and I'm good at math.

She's just another George Bush, a snake-oil seller willing to cheat people to reach her goal. "Who cares if I have to lie to people, let's keep going," she perhaps tells herself.

This is not about Republican or Democrat anymore. It's about who's lying. That's going to set my benchmark on who to vote for. I can't take 8 more years of a Bush clone like Clinton.

The question now is: who to vote for? I'm not thrilled by Obama, Clinton or McCain.

How I really feel..

2008-03-23T13:06:00.000-07:00

Want to hear how I feel? Listen to the first few seconds of this song...

About relationships, expectations, guilt and conflict. Found myself humming this ditty today morning, so figured there must be something wrong, but still trying to figure it out.

Perhaps it's my turn to dump trash.

Perhaps I felt too environmentally guilty when carrying groceries in a plastic bag yesterday.

Perhaps I could have fit one more glass in the dishwasher before starting it.

Perhaps I'll forget to do my taxes on time and get fined $15.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

It's been a while since Brimful asked for throwback songs, and I recommended this one. Now studying what seemingly is medicine, it seems Brimful could use the song too.

The vocalist is Faith Evans, if you wonder. Check her bio, and yes, she perhaps sang the song because she really needed it. The band is A Tribe called Quest.

The song's from around the mid-to-late 90s, during my days as an NYC resident. And yes, I really needed the song every month in fear of meeting rent.

Obscurest of blow-outs

2008-03-02T14:37:00.000-08:00

Put it in the history books: Dmitry Medvedev is Russia's new President, and for the next 8 years, naysayers will keep on harking about the election being "rigged." Yeah, maybe Russians officials had the crazy idea of smuggling Chinese across the border to vote for Medvedev.

So what's the outrage? Medvedev was handpicked by Putin to be Russia's new President. Medvedev reciprocated, saying he wanted Putin to be his PM, to delay his political retirement. Foreign governments will call that foul, but they have more to lose if it isn't Medvedev.

More than 70 percent of the vote went to Medvedev, with between 55 million and 60 million people voting (50% of eligible voters). But what is a voter to do if the opposition is full of nutcases?

Guys like Vladimir Zhirinovsky (with his anarchist policies) or Gennady Zyuganov (USSR-type policies) should worry foreign governments even more.

Every election needs an circus clown, Zhirinovsky is that. He once stupidly suggested said that India conquer Pakistan to get rid of a menace. That's the war-mongeror in him, a crazy guy under whom Russia will implode.

And there's the evergreen curmudgeon who wants to go back in time. Zyuganov's policies take Russia back to its USSR days, without accounting for new world orders, like energy. Russia strikes fear into governments through Gazprom, a gov't controlled agency that controls part of the world's energy supply. Gazprom will lose its power and suffer under Zyuganov's reversal policies.

And Garry Kasparov as president? Please. Leave him to the chess table. Yes, his arrest may have been wrong, but giving the country to him is like asking for a death wish. He's pesky, but inconsistent and very moody. He's even worse than Zhirinovsky

Which brings us to Medvedev, a known quantity who will keep Russia's world status alive without floating crazy ideas.

One friend who doesn't hate the U.S. said he voted for Medvedev because he wants to be protected from the U.S. It's a tit-for-tat; Russians want to be protected from Americans, like Americans want to be protected from the Russians. Putin had a fan following with that, and Medvedev will continue to wield that stick, he said.

Like him, I don't have a proper read on Medvedev yet because he's an unknown quantity. But he's educated, sensible and is a hard worker. He will combat the U.S. with the somewhat twisted, but effective policies that Russia has in place today.

Where Medvedev becomes really hard to read is his plans to reform the Russia's political system, if he has any. Putin failed to launch a fledgling political system that would inspire and breed a competitive opposition, but will Medvedev develop that? Or will he lay waste on the private sector? It really depends on the people and how they conceive the economy to be.

Muscovites seem happy with their urban lifestyle, though students complain; villagers in remote parts of Russia complain because their nearest town draws talent away, a sort of internal brain drain. But supermarkets are expanding, the money is flowing in, the complaints from the country seems to be fewer than a few years ago. I'm not an economist, and it's hard to judge the metrics that reveal Russia's actual economic barometer.

All said and done, Putin is not dumb -- he is smart enough to remain in the background and exploit weak spots in int'l affairs to help Russia (like weapons sales, defense systems and oil). He will assist Medvedev until fading away. That is good news from countries like India and China, who need support to counter the U.S.'s growing geopolitical ambitions.

What about the U.S.? Both Democratic nominees -- Ms. Rodham Clinton and Mr. Obama -- don't even know Medvedev's full name yet, so that's even harder to judge. But neither expects much change in Russian policy, and that's a smart guess.

But the Russians have voted, and we have a winner. Life moves on. And Garry Kasparov will go back to jail 1000 more times if he can't work the political system a bit better.

One song and a five minute stand

2007-11-21T14:47:00.000-08:00

Some songs don't just jam, they invoke a strong and kneejerk reaction. Songs don't shake me up easily, but Massive Attack's fabulous "Teardrop" did.

Having drinks with a friend a month ago, Madrone's smart DJ dropped that song, the biggest lounge surprise I've had in years.

The sensual, ethereal crooning of Elizabeth Fraser was spellbinding; I floated back to some of my wildest years: London in the late 90s. I was young, stupid, the scene was hot, and sleep was impossible.

Like in Madrone, the song flowed out slowly and smoothly in a London club, and with it came a visceral feeling of passion. I exchanged glances with A, her bright black eyes trying to say something intimate. Instantly, we clutched each other tightly and swooned to Fraser's vocals for a few minutes. We were just friends, but the song evoked that strong a reaction.

It ended when a Eurotrash mix blew out the speakers. We were perhaps wasted, not knowing what we did, but I haven't forgotten those few moments.

So I landed a tease call to now-married A in London, telling her the Madrone moment didn't feel complete without her. She's got a razor-sharp memory, so it wasn't surprising she remembered those moments like it were yesterday. She now was intent on learning how I felt during the swoon, so she played along.

She grimaced loudly: "Want to share something? An emotion, perhaps?"

"A, come on, that was ages ago! We were young and stupid," I said, chuckling.

"You felt nothing in your heartless soul?" she said, behaving heartbroken.

"Yes, it was a special moment, but..."

"But what...?" she asked.

"Can I call it a 5-minute stand? I don't want your husband killing me!" I asked in humor. I've learned this the hard way, never tell women 'we're just friends' or similar. Be a bit more appreciative of what they mean to you.

It was a special moment, we agreed, but not much spice otherwise. But the song could have well redefined my my life in just a few minutes.

It was released when lounge in general -- Thievery Corp. and Buddha Bar's experimental tones -- started entering the quartet of club styles: house & trance (mostly summer ibiza anthems), hip hop, classic 70s/80s, and international (which included bhangra/rai/garage).

Fraser's lyrics were indecipherable, like most of her Cocteau Twins songs, but it has this weird charm that still haunts both A and me. Just amazing what it did.

And I heard a snippet of the song again recently. Until it disappears, I'm in for hell.

(A! hola!)

Cheap wine

2007-11-03T13:16:00.000-07:00

Few years ago, I contributed a $7.99 Merlot to a dinner gathering. Like any genius, I forgot to remove the price tag, which was shining bright throughout the room when the bottle was being opened. Everyone seemed to notice it.

Unless you remove the price tag, cheap wine isn't well received, I knew that. I picked up two lessons since -- 1) Never buy a cheap wine; 2) To always buy Yellowtail, the coke of all wines, which is cheap and universally enjoyed. Ravenswood's good too.

So there's a party tonight, and I went looking for a Yellowtail at a nearby grocery store. They didn't have it, and I've already taken Ravenswood there once, so sought an alternate. Nothing seemed pure Merlot -- they had Cabernet mixed with Merlot, Shiraz and some kinda low-fat "vegan" wine. How San Francisco.

Walked up to the store owner, asked him if he had Yellowtail.

"They are having supply problems, for some reason we haven't received a bottle in a few months," he said. He recommended one wine sitting in a box lying on the store corner.

"$6.50?" I shouted, stunned at reading the price of King Fish Merlot, with its cheesy sketch of some random prehistoric fish on the cover. "You must be kidding!"

"It's very good," the store owner said. "I don't drink wine, but it is very good."

"Cheap wines?" I answered, convinced it wasn't a good buy. "And who will drink a wine with a prehistoric bird sketched on the label?"

"Don't judge it by the name and price," storeowner said. "Got a good deal on it, just trying to pass the savings."

He pointed to 5 boxes of ugly King Fish bottles lying on another side of the store. It looked like decoration for a haunted house.

Worth a buy? A good gamble. The party I'm headed to tonight isn't a bunch of wine n cheese connosieurs, so it would be a good King Fish testbed. If people enjoyed it, I'd be able to buy a good wine atleast 1/2 the price of Yellowtail.

If it doesn't turn out to be a success, I dread the consequences...

Far away from the action in Burma...

2007-10-06T14:16:00.000-07:00

You've perhaps heard of the drama in Burma: military folks crushing peaceful protests, people being killed, and of all things, monks being whacked. Burma doesn't appear in the news often, so the Burmese may really be suffering.

Time to re-familiarize myself with the country.

So I picked up a Burma map and looked at its geography. The main action's up north; down south Burma narrows into a thin archipelago connected to the Andaman Sea. The Andaman Sea's got some amazing beaches.

"Dang, South Burma must have amazing beaches," I thought, a sort of Johnny-come-lately realization that was the day's moment of zen.

Indeed, it does. The Mergui archipelago in southern Burma is touted as an isolated haven with sensational beaches, clear water and stark beauty. Isolated, well, because Burma doesn't want tourists in its country. That also means amazing snorkelling and diving for the lucky ones who manage to get there.

Here's one photo tour of a Mergui island. And when the Burmese gov't decides not to be the party pooper, it'll perhaps be one of the country's hotspots. Maybe I'm wrong, but Burma doesn't offer much otherwise.

China's also partying in Mergui, renting an island to watch India, which has a strong naval presence in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, not too far away.

China has a history of using Burma to keep India under watch since World War II, so this shouldn't be a surprise. Read The Burma Road to get an amazing insight into how it started.

Trip to Culebra Island, Puerto Rico

2007-09-16T14:43:00.000-07:00

It may not be Morocco, but the trip to Puerto Rico wasn't far behind in brilliance. No passport needed, cheap, and isolated Caribbean beaches aren't too far.

Old San Juan felt like a European city. It's got an amazing old-world feel, with cobblestone streets, fortresses and enchanting buildings. Forget a few days; you need a week to see this city.

In the spirit of a true vacation, I spent most of my time on Culebra, an island off PR, swimming and snorkelling on some of Caribbean's best undiscovered beaches.

As my friend lazed around the hotel and read her book, one day I biked out to Flamenco, Culebra's most noted beach, and Carlos Rosario, a remote beach offering PR's best snorkelling. Enjoy a photo essay of that trip.

View from Culebra's ferry dock (Is it PR or Vieques?)

Culebra's ferry dock

A rude vendor at the ferry dock

Hippie dude Dick in old VW van with a gaggle of rental bikes to choose from

Culebra's tiny airport popped up on the way to Flamenco. Small aircraft fly in from San Juan airport, and don't leave until the 8 seats are filled.

The deserted airport had enough space for my bike. Visitors avoid Culebra between Aug and Oct fearing a hurricane.

Biking to Flamenco beach is a bit of an effort...

.. but worth it. Added gas into pedaling as the turqoise waters of Flamenco beach came to view.

An unstaffed information booth at the beach. With no tourism, Culebrans vacation in Sept.

Don't forget sunscreen!

Flamenco's calm waters are stunningly beautiful and yet to be discovered

Coconuts litter the beach

A tank on the beach.. self-explanatory

The green hill adds great effect to Flamenco

Sooty Terns breed on the island

The blue sky, turqoise waters and an isolated beach.. can't ask for more..

Heading from Flamenco to Carlos Rosario (CR) beach to snorkel

The trek to CR is arduous, on a hill with a small, slippery path and thorny bushes. Carry a Swiss Knife and antibiotic ointment. No road approaches CR.

I snorkelled around CR beach for 3 hours. Some of the best corals and fish in PR can be found there (it is a designated wildlife refuge). Snorkelling in Belize remains tops though.

Watch your step on CR beach...prickly objects are everywhere.

An ode to my grandmother

2007-09-01T14:31:00.000-07:00

Ba, my grandmother, was the most unassuming individual. Her love was unconditional, and she held nary a grudge.

Sitting in her little throne, a couch on the roomside, she loved watching movies. She was fond of flicks with Gujarati superstar Naresh Kanodia or Bollywood star Sanjay Dutt. She'd watch Chinese movies. English movies. Tamil movies. Language didn't matter to her, she somehow understood the visuals and patched the movie together.

We'd go crazy if an English movie was deemed too long, but she'd sit there, calm like a turtle, waiting for the next scene. The amazing patience came from a tough life she lived and a roller-coaster ride of emotions she endured. Under a tough and petite frame, inside, she was as tough as nails.

The rare tear she shed was gut-wrenching to bear and perhaps the most emotional few seconds anyone in our family ever faced. She would talk about small things and be overcome by emotion. She hoped her estranged son would come and meet her again, but she held no expectations. As long as her son was happy, she was happy.

She was a comic too. She loved banana milkshake, amusing for a traditional Indian lady who didn't enjoy modern food. Any other milkshake was "banned by religion." The exception also went to chocolates, a thing every woman needs.

The watchdog she was, Ba reported the daily activities of my younger bro and me to Mom and Dad. If we watched TV for 2 straight hours, she'd tell Mom. If we ate twinkies on the sly, she told Mom. She was the Mom's eyes; there was nowhere to escape.

Finally, we counterattacked. One day we recorded and reported everything she did to Mom -- from watching 2 Gujarati movies to drinking 2 banana milkshakes. She panicked, not expecting us to report her, and denied doing everything. In jest, she gave us a naughty glance as if to say "you finally got me!"

She mostly kept to herself; religion pulled her together. She would go to the Jain temple every morning, and we held her religious commitment in high regard. We didn't want Ba upset, so we refrained from eating nonvegetarian food at home, but we did outside.

We had codenames for non-veggie dishes -- "chicken" was "kitchen," and "kabab" was "tree" (for mint leaves that came with the kabab). Ba was smart -- she knew we ate nonvegetarian food outside but never said a thing.

Memories pinch me so hard that I can't stop shedding tears. She cried when I left home for university; she held on to my hand for a few seconds trying to stop me from going. I cry with the memory that she is now gone, no hand to hold or none of her tears to wipe away.

But it is her memorable smile of when I came back home that I'll remember the most. She lived a long life, and her memory will be forever with us.

We miss you Ba.

Press conference tug-of-wars

2007-08-28T15:40:00.000-07:00

If you want to waste time, attend a press conference thrown by the U.S. government. It's a waste of U.S. tax dollars and you'll grab lessons on poor management skills.

An unruly lady greeted me at the U.S. Department of Justice building in San Francisco, where a press conference to announce a guy's conviction in an accounting scandal was being held. My plan was to gather a few sound bytes and get out after 5 minutes of government BS.

In a bid to undermine my identity, the lady asked for my driving license, library card, passport, anything to prove my ID wrong. After convincing her I was as advertised, she called someone and said, "a hack is here." (In PR parlance, a hack is a journalist). Great, another ego-boosted character working for the government.

"How many hours a day do you sit behind that desk," I asked her. She growled, and silently asked me to get out of her sight. Ah, those small victories of life. I'm glad she didn't respond with: "I'll put you on jury duty you rascal." I would've run 5 miles away from her.

Then I was in the press-con, officials milling around, arranging the room for the big announcement. One yuppie guy popped out of nowhere and shook my hand, asked if I was "a hack." Stunned, I stared at him for a second, giving that "look" of disgust, and asked him who the f*** he was. An investigator with the FBI, his business card said. And he doesn't know saying "a hack" was rude.

We spoke about the case, he revealed some amazing things, after which I asked "Can I quote you?" His gleaming smile turned into a growl. "No, please" said the young one. He asked for my business card, grabbed it and ran to the other side of the room, to the comfort of other government folks hanging out. I went back to my seat.

In the front, near the dais, a lady wearing the dunce cap was trying to fit the oversized DOJ flag into a room with a low ceiling. The flag wouldn't fit, but some wild reason, she kept trying. She tried the left side of the dais, then the right side, but the flag wouldn't t fit. Nor did the ceiling level change. It seemed like her life depended on the flag.

As the flag bearer continued to hold her ground, a gov't lady was trying to decorate the background, mulling whether to put up the photograph of the U.S. president. She put it up, pulled it, put it up, couldn't seem to make up her mind.

Behind me, a DOJ guy argued with a TV cameraman over the camera location. The most helpful lady was helping reporters plug microphones into the dais, where a lawyer would announce the conviction.

As reporters schmoozed and caught up. I walked into a crowd of three reporters I regularly bump into. "What's up with the flag lady," I asked my friends.

"In the Girl Scouts we're not taught to bear a flag like that," a colleague said.

"Maybe she had 99 bottles of Red Bull," another colleague said.

Finally, she pulled the flag and headed out the door, not before bumping someone in the head with the solid steel pole. Anyone in the flag's range immediately cleared.

We waited, waited, and the press conference started after 45 minutes. For 5 minutes, the DOJ raved about how cool they were, and "no comment" on most questions that mattered.

What a waste of time.

Taekwondopia delay

2007-08-24T16:18:00.000-07:00

Got a note from a Taekwondo Park guy a few days ago. Construction of Taekwondo Park in Muju Hills can be expected to be completed by 2015, he said.

He declined further comment, and asked me to check the Taekwondo Park Web site for further updates. Well, not everyone outside outside Korea knows Korean, which is why I e-mailed WTF in the first place. If anyone wants to practice Korean, please visit the site and pass along an update!

So, we're back to square one -- Taekwondopia is under a shroud of mystery. Which raises two questions: Is it really stuck in the public approval process, or is red tape an excuse to cover up WTF's internal battles over the Taekwondo shrine?

Controversies aren't new at WTF. It came under fire when TKD was almost booted out as an Olympic sport. Then South Koreans pummeled WTF for trivializing TKD, a national treasure, by marketing it abroad. Now Taekwondo students are riling over its new, el-cheapo Dan certificates they are issuing themselves and via a U.S. agency.

There's a lot more to this Taekwondo Park delay than meets the eye. I sense a cover up, but the investigation will continue.

A Moroccan fall

2007-08-21T11:42:00.000-07:00

The Morocco trip got scuttled. My travel buddy R took up a job as a bartender in Southern France where she was hanging out, and that led to many planning woes.

Oh well, I'm thinking of going solo to trek the Atlas mountains, maybe not. It's up in the air.

There's no perfect Taekwondo school

2007-08-12T14:22:00.000-07:00

Finding a good Taekwondo school in San Francisco is a challenge. Fair to say, it's tougher than learning a rare African dialect.

The issues:

- Schools want contracts to be signed. Am I dumb to sign a 3-year contract *with* a penalty for breaching it? Am I wearing a dunce cap? (Read: ATA schools.)

- Back to the wonder years. If you're being taught like a kid, there's ego involved. I'm not against lining up in a class with kids, I *don't* want to be treated like a juvenile. I don't want to play kid's games. I'm paying wads of cash, treat me like an adult, give me respectful training. Don't ask me about my grades in school. And yes, I obey my parents, thank you.

And as a rookie, I'm banned from the "intermediate" and "advanced" classes, where the adults are.

- Short classes. What kind of workout am I getting in a 1-hour class in which the first 1/2 hour is spent meditating and socializing?

- Expensive. I'm selling a limb for an hour of training, I want a good workout. Schools want the limb, but don't deliver the promised "brilliant" workout. Everything in San Francisco's expensive.

- Distances. Each hill in San Francisco adds minutes to the commute, and a decent Taekwondo school can't afford prime area. Property's too expensive. There's one school accessible to me, that's all, but the classes start too quick.

- Timings are weird. Classes start at 6pm, when my work ends. That's fair, but they don't want students coming late.

"We ask students to take rounds if they are late," said one instructor, clutching his black belt with a kung fu grip.

"Rounds?" I asked, amazed. I just told him that I'd probably be late, but no accomodation. I looked at the gym; it's barely 15x15, it would take 200 rounds to take the gas out of me.

"Thank you sir," and I leave, looking for a coffee store to gather my breath and gasp over what the instructor just said.

- Styles. Taekwondo is fragmented -- with so many styles -- it's hard to pick one that will last long. There are no vanilla TKD schools - they are either combined with other styles, or the styles suck.

I could rant for hours. Nevertheless, it's been fun checking out different martial arts, their complements, and their flaws, like the "internal martial arts."

The quest goes on!

Morocco, here I come

2007-08-12T14:20:00.001-07:00

I'm going to Morocco in early September, watch this space for pictures! Any tips? Leave a note here!

You mess with Taekwondo, you mess with Korea

2007-08-08T18:40:00.001-07:00

With North Korea itching to dump a missile on its southern brother, the last thing South Korea needs is another controversy. One low-scale controversy has hit its national sport, Taekwondo (TKD), but don't panic.

Over the weekend, I read an e-book, in which an author talks about undying love for TKD lands the nutty author in South Korea. Insane, and fantastic at parts, the book redefines the meaning of the word 'obsession'. The book's pretty blithe and entertaining.

The author jumps into every moment as if life was at stake -- be it while learning TKD or simply being a foreigner. There are the Korean language problems. Freak dudes. Break-ins. Shabby houses. Double-crossing women. The book ends talking about TKD and Korean peculiarities.

Interesting bits dot the pages -- like plans to build "Taekwondopia," a new TKD HQ, in the hills of Muju. It's an upgrade to Kukkiwon, TKD's crabby HQ, where Koreans enlikened the author to an alien. (Taekwondopia's now Taekwondo Park)

Cute plan by the World Taekwondo Federation. Or deceptive, I thought. The park could attract foreigners and expand TKD's popularity.

Lo and behold, the plan isn't so cute anymore. The harmless project has morphed into a controversy that Koreans are boiling mad over.

A PR stunt gone wrong and a glitzy "Americanize it" marketing campaign are to blame.

Koreans are revolting against TP's international marketing plan, concerned that an American intrusion could destroy the sport. Taekwondo is a national treasure and overtures to the U.S. could attract sponsors like Nike. Americanizing the sport would effectively destroy it.

Even worse was a PR stunt that unknowingly created a national stir. A brochure made TP look like a Japanese joint -- big mistake -- never associate anything Korean with the Japanese. Korean and Japanese martial artists throw hacks at each other regularly, but this one drove all of Korea crazy.

And the icing on the cake --construction's stalled. Planned to start in 2005, TP is now plagued with legislative and public approval delays. That's the price you pay for messing with an environmentally conscious valley.

End game? If you mess with TKD, you mess with Korea. Ask the author. TKD is intertwined with Korea's society and politics, be it as a lazy gym on a city corner, or a sport that brings Olympic medals. More than an art, TKD is a lifestyle, S. Korea's face to the world.

All said, the Taekwondo Park is progressing. It may take 15-30 years, who knows, but it'll come. Serious controversies will piggyback, which will be worth following.

It may revolutionize TKD and bring rival organizations under one roof. WTF, the top TKD organization, could negotiate with rival ITF to be a joint part of the monument. A hard bargain, but ITF won't say no.

War gobbledygook

2007-08-05T10:48:00.000-07:00

As the war drifts on, some media-speak for you... these terms could be heard in briefings by the U.S. Defense Department.

This list compares words Defense uses for our army and the bad guys. It's a PR tool for the military to sell the war to the people, journalists use it to cut through the crap.

Us (USA)	The bad guys in Iraq
Men and women	Terrorists, bad guys
Lads	Hoardes
Daredevil	Cannon fodder
Brave	Fanatical
Determined	Ruthless
Professional	Cowardly
Collateral damage	Civilian casualties
Eliminate, neutralize	Kill
Press briefings	Propaganda

Yippee! It's downhill straight to a warzone!

2007-07-08T15:15:00.000-07:00

My eyes popped wide open after hearing that Sochi, a Russian resort, was selected to host the 2014 Winter Olympics. The resort is not too far from a declared Georgia-Abkhazia war zone (under 50 kms), and as I wrote a year ago, that figured to be a topic of contention when evaluating Sochi as a host.

Either the Winter Olympic officials are duffuses who don't know the area, or they were bribed. After all, we have witnessed weirdness from the Russians in past Winter Olympics. Remember the 2002 incident when a French judge was pressured to vote for the Russian figure-skating duo over the Canadians? The Russian duo stumbled and slipped their way to a gold medal over the Canadians, who were technically perfect.

But it's still 2007, and we're a good 7 years away from the Winter Olympics. Things can change. It is being reported that Sochi's selection is a reason for Russia and Georgia to reach a peace agreement over Abkhazia, the area of contention for both.

Georgia contends that Abkhazia, a breakaway republic, is its state and that Russia is meddling in its affairs; Russia contends that Abkhazia is an independent republic, and that the Georgians are torturing people and committing atrocities on Abkhaz people.

I earlier described their conflict as two kids fighting over a toy. The theme continues; both Russia and Georgia claim Sochi to be a victory for itself. How and why, I don't really understand. No, Georgia doesn't expect to beat Russia in curling, but it does expect political gains and concessions.

Maybe Georgia believes Russia has to treat it right, otherwise Georgians will create mischief in Abkhazia and keep the world from coming to Russia and Sochi. It's like hosting the Winter Olympics on the Iran-Iraq border.

There's another reason Georgia digs the Sochi victory: It will keep getting oil from Gazprom, the bully gas company that really doesn't care about Eastern European and CIS nations.

Sochi will finally come out of the woodwork of being just a backwater resort, it will put the Caucasus on the map. Hopefully it will bring some peace with it. Georgia and Russia need each other; it's time they both realize it.

But if the combat continues, nobody's going to visit Sochi. Security first, after all.

Stuck in Kamloops -- Part 3

2007-06-30T13:02:00.000-07:00

(Part 1, 2)

After spotting a Punjabi woman selling samosas in remote Canada, atop a mountain, we headed to Kamloops, a a snug city in a valley where two rivers meet.

There's not much to see there, but Kamloops' real vibe is in people's lives. (Much like Vancouver and Victoria). Overworked and struggling, life seems like a daily struggle. For good or bad, seems like they have nowhere to go.

Take the hotel manager. He complained working 14 hours a day, with their massive turnover rate. He couldn't even find people to carry luggage. Bah, this is just a manager's rant, I thought, heading out to trek.

On Day 2, I headed to the reception to get Kamloops' maps. I waited as a receptionist was chatting on the phone, giving what seemed more like a phone interview.

"Yes, I can come to Vancouver any day for lunch," she said, smiling and aware of my presence, but trying not to make eye contact.

She was thin, well groomed, with short blond hair. She was also in a bind, with me hearing the interview. I smiled, behaving like I didn't hear anything.

Another chat with her would be great, I thought. We did chat later in the day, about life in San Francisco and about Canada's skilled labor shortage, a rather grim topic among Canadians.

Kamloops is a stepping stone to big places like Vancouver and Victoria, she said. There's no shame in giving open interviews, even her bosses know that she intends to move on. She was perhaps the only qualified person available to staff the reception desk; her managers had no choice, she said.

That didn't ring true; there must be resorts as Kamloops downtown seemed weirdly active. In the evening, no downtown parking spots were available though *all* stores were shut. It just defied conventional logic. Comparable to New York or San Francisco. I kid you not.

It's a big ski town, the lady said, but lacks social life and the excitement of a tourist town, she said, as I watched her charming face turn to disgust. No Greek parties, few salsa dances. Skilled labor tries to avoid a life like this, she said.

Kamloops is only a stopover for nature enthusiasts and the timber industry, she said. I agree with that -- Kamloops' riverside is beautiful. We were greeted to a stopover of migratory geese; watching them sloppily parade around. What fun. Also got my weekly run in.

"It gets more remote as you head to Jasper [in the Canadian Rockies]," she said, adding "and I'm not going there." She's bent on getting to Vancouver, leaving Kamloops in the dust.

"Do you want my job?" she asked, with a twinkle in her eye.

Marooned by 5

2007-06-24T13:19:00.000-07:00

I thought Maroon 5 was some pimp band when I first heard of them last month, like "Lavender 6" or "Purple Velvet 1876". And I was paying a fortune for their concert tickets, so if they sucked, I was gonna destroy somebody's guitar. What I won't do for KM, who was hell bent on seeing them rock out.

Lo and behold, Maroon 5's the next coming of Stevie Wonder, Sting, U2 all rolled into one, atleast for KM. Anticipating atleast 1/4th of U2, KM godded me to hear Maroon 5 @ the Great American. "I've really never heard of this band," I told KM. "You're from Mars anyways," she responded, making fishy faces.

The room was crammed with a Britney Spears meets Eddie Veder type crowd, so I didn't know what to expect. Then the band appeared, a bunch of wannabe rockstars still in their diapers. All I wanted some rockin' jammin', vocals don't mean jack. I evaluated the instruments they bought -- a few guitars, keyboards, drums, few rhythm accessories -- hmm, enough to indicate a decent jam. Hope was in view.

Maroon then started ripping out songs that ringed of familiarity -- I thought I'd heard some of them in in movie promos, radios, paid bathroom stalls, everywhere. Ah, I thought, so those songs were sung by *these* guys. One of life's mysteries solved.

Overall, twas a good jam. Vocals were OK, but their music, arrangements and sounds were unique. The timing of keyboards, guitars and drums were impeccable and meshed surprisingly well for such a big arrangement. It's tough for three major guitarists to put their act together to a single keyboard octane, but these guys didn't miss a beat, not once. Bringing so much together can be tough, even a terrible guitarist like me can tell you that.

The songs were the usual pop fare, but the bass provided the kick I was looking for. They mixed interesting keyboard sounds with good bass guitar riffs to generate a somewhat deep bass. Not the kind you'd find with a bass viol, pick-up and strings, but good enough to please. But in the end, it's Maroon 5 and a pop concert for teeny boppers, not an a capella or jazz concert.

Also tuned into the MP3 of their new single, "Makes me wonder" and it's much more polished than the concert version. Guitars are fewer. Rugged synthesizer shots accompany bass guitar. Bongos add to what's an already deep bass. Drums are less significant they they were in concert, simple keyboards riffs instead set up a stanza (not like that in concert). Essentially the keyboards are the glue that patch the song together. They make up for bass cut by drums, and act as a great set up to execute the vocals.

Very clean and sophisticated pop arrangement, with interesting instrumentation and bass for a pop song. We see that in all pop songs, but this is a particularly interesting example.

If you hear it the second time, forget the vocals and focus on the song's instruments. You might find something new to appreciate.

And now I know Maroon 5, KM. Shut your big trash talkin' mouth.

TV news wars

2007-06-13T12:43:00.000-07:00

Bill O'Reilly's a TV personality you either love or hate. For all the outlandish things he's said -- most of it much worse than Rosie -- he hasn't drawn a lot of publicity. That changed, when yesterday's outburst drew the anger of media giants CNN and NBC.

On a radio show, O'Reilly -- bunching CNN and MSNBC in the left-wing caboodle -- said:

"On [O'Reilly Factor], I don't do a lot of Iraq reporting because we don‘t know what's happening. We can't find out. So I'm taking an argument that CNN and MSNBC are actually helping the terrorists by reporting useless explosions. Do you care if another bomb went off in Tikrit? Does it mean anything? No! It doesn't mean anything."

(This was in response to a study that cited Fox News doing the least Iraq coverage.)

He argued CNN and MSNBC delighted in showing bombs blast in Iraq. By showing that, they are discrediting Bush and helping the left-wing cause, he said.

Those accusations pissed off MSNBC . As a response, Dan Abrams, MSNBC's chief, interviewed a panel of network bitches and one dissenting media expert, Bob Kohn.

In a shocking reversal, Kohn made Abrams his bitch, slapping his butt at will and ripping MSNBC's fraudulent standards of claiming to be "unbiased." Abrams has no business in TV journalism, I've always maintained that, and this confirmed it.

MSNBC providing balanced coverage in Iraq and not discrediting Bush is BS, Kohn told Abrams. MSNBC openly discredits Bush, and their negative Iraq stories outnumbers their positive stories, Kohn said. That smells of bias, he said.

MSNBC atleast covered the war, Abrams debated back. He questioned O'Reilly and Fox News' patriotism and commitment to America by not covering the war.

And Kohn started his bashing right there.

KOHN: This is like McCarthyism. You know...

ABRAMS: How‘s that?

KOHN: Because you guys complain that your patriotism was being questioned when you guys spoke out against the war. Now you‘re questioning this [O'Reilly's] dedication...to the troops. I think you're taking this out of context. He was definitely making a point here about the journalism that's going on here.

And...

ABRAMS: As the person who runs the network, Bob, are you accusing me of telling people to cover the story a way that embarrasses the administration?

KOHN: You're not a news reporter, you're an analyst, OK? [There's a difference between reporters and analysts. Reporters don't make decisions sitting on desks or sofas, analysts do.]

ABRAMS: Right, and I also run MSNBC. [That's why Abrams sucks, and why MSNBC has been faltering. Abrams shifting his weight means he has no argue or response left.]

KOHN: We have numbers that say NBC is biased, OK?

ABRAMS: ...There is great pride in the way we have covered ... the story. There is no shame ...that MSNBC has ended up covering ... the most important story facing Americans today.

KOHN: But don't claim to be objective!

--

Abrams assumed O'Reilly was in an "indefensible" position, but Kohn turned the table and embarassed MSNBC. Assuming O'Reilly in a weak position before the segment shows "biased" coverage. Every good reporter knows not to assume that before covering a story.

That's a small sampler of why Abrams is a failure. Let's hope he doesn't garbage MSNBC completely. He hasn't done anything to improve MSNBC, while Fox News, as trashy as it is, improves and continues to innovate with experiments like "Red Eye."

Back to O'Reilly, I don't like or hate the guy. He's successful because he is a showman, and he draws attention with whatever he says. Like Rosie. Can you do that?

Property hijinx

2007-06-02T13:39:00.000-07:00

"Who is it?" I shout into my buzzer.

"We've come to see the condo," she says.

"My neighbor's condo is on sale. Please buzz 9." I tell her.

It happened three times. Downstairs, I notice: the apartment number on the "For Sale" placard is wrong.

That's my afternoon. It's nasty outside, I'm sleepy, and apartment prices in San Francisco are going into the "crazy" stratosphere.

I just saw the place. It's decent, nothing fantastic. The jazzed up place has 2 fair-sized bedrooms, 2 baths, skylights. View is good. A parking spot. My building's construction isn't brilliant, the walls not soundproofed. The pipes are decades old.

And the clincher -- bidding for it starts at US$1 million. Am I dreaming?? For a piece of junk? An apartment in this building was $559,000 when I moved in 4 years ago, it has doubled since then.

It's good equity, said my roommate, and San Francisco's property prices may or may not go down. Waiting for the bubble to burst shouldn't be a reason to not buy an apartment, she said. San Francisco's still cheap compared to Palo Alto, where every inch of earth is worth gold.

I sigh and catch a glimpse of the real estate agent. She's radiant, knowing a good payday's on tap.

Into the Canadian Rockies

2007-05-26T14:18:00.000-07:00

My parents are *tough* travelers - their last adventure was a 5,000-mile drive through South America. They dodged Amazon wildlife, a politically unstable Colombia and even fought tooth-and-nail with dicey Paraguayan policemen, who unsuspectingly asked for a $5 bribe to cross the border. They settled at $3.

The idea of traveling with them is unsettling, but it had to happen. At her emotional best, Mom asked "Do you want to come to the Canadian Rockies with us?"

Mom's always wanted to take *the* adventure trip with me after an Africa trip with my two siblings. "Ummmm...," I hesitatingly said.

"We're paying for it," she said.

"Ok Mom. When's the trip?" As easy as apple pie.

From Vancouver, we headed for the town of Kamloops, a one-day stopover before riding to the Canadian Rockies. Driving deeper into Canada, residential houses and rest stops vanished, replaced by the raw beauty of ice-capped mountains and a river flowing alongside the road, sometimes on the right, sometimes on the left.

Finally, we had enough of nature -- the urge to go was high. Ignoring the mountains, we scrounged around for a bathroom. We hit paydirt after 65 miles -- the bathroom had no tap, paper towel or soap, just a liquid handcleaner. This is an environmentally friendly way to save nature, according to a note on the wall.

Outside the latrine was an even bigger surprise -- a snack shop, with a lone, middle-aged Punjabi lady in salwar-kameez selling Kit Kat, chips, hot dogs and the last thing you'd expect in remote Canada -- *warm samosas* -- with chutney and tamarind sauce to boot.

"Are these [Samosas] home made?" I asked. [For reference: A samosa is an Indian snack, fried dumplings with a filling of potatoes, spices and herbs.]

"Yes! I made them an hour ago," she said. The Samosas were rotating in a warming device.

"I'll take two vegetarian!" I said. Screw the hotdogs.

"Are you Indian?" she asked.

"Yes, my parents are here too," I said, pointing down the mountain to my parents, who were duking it out over who'd drive next.

A warm smile spread across her face, and she asked where I was from. As I chowed, we chatted. She lived in a nearby town, splitting store time with her husband. They made samosas at home and brought it on duty change. They came to Canada from Punjab a long time ago. They settled down and made friends in the area. Their kids were now in high school.

"You are lying," said Mom, when I told her that Samosas were sold in that tiny store on top of that little mountain. "If you're incorrect, you give me $5," she said.

"Mom, look at her. I won't profit from identifying her as a Chinese woman."

I smelled danger as a stunned Mom looked at the Punjabi woman up the mountain. Mom loves to chat -- she gobbled up 1,374 minutes of my cell talktime in just 3 days. They met and chatted like long-lost friends.

The Punjabi lady's life revolves around the massive labor shortage in Canada, she said. That fact was more evident in Kamloops, our next stop, which I will explore in the next entry.

Life in Canada, Pt. 1 - Vancouver and Victoria

2007-05-19T15:07:00.000-07:00

Rumbling through the Canadian Rockies earlier this month, its easy to orient with the easy paced life in Western Canada -- the provinces of British Columbia and Alberta -- for ethnic groups, Canadians and French-Canadians.

Between Victoria and Calgary, life changes with the blink of an eye -- from the social confines of Vancouver, to the remote openness of Jasper in Alberta, to sights of Punjabis walking around Calgary, Alberta's capital.

The trip started in Vancouver, a day stopover before heading to the Canadian Rockies. Vancouverites are proud of everything from restaurants closing at 9PM, the everyday rain, to the run-down Husky gas stations with World War 2 equipment.

That may seem egotistical, but Vancouverites are in clean denial about these issues. They'll counter back with stuff like "The Winter Olympics coming to Vancouver in 2010 (correct?). What does San Francisco have?"

Well, San Francisco residents are atleast honest about the city's shortcomings.

Beyond the ego clash, Vancouver offers a vibrant culture, fancy cars, and if I were to believe the hotel attendant, a strong marijuana culture. (He was a bit tipsy and almost broke my bag.) Vancouver downtown's got something of an Indiatown -- blocks filled with Indian restaurants and stores -- and further down that street, an even bigger Chinatown.

Canada also has so much greenery that Vancouver's natural beauty is underestimated. I fell in love with the dirt-cheap coffee at Tim Horton's, a donut chain you'll find at every block.

Go further west, to Victoria in the island of Vancouver, a tamed city smacked with beauty. It's like a quaint English town, with a stunning lakefront, gardens and historical buildings dotting the streets. Looking beyond it as a tourist, it seems like an artists' haven, many of whom have drawn inspiration from the city's beauty and all-year round good weather.

Victoria's biggest draw, Bushart Gardens, is a tourist trap; the city's creative culture is so compelling that it seems overwhelming. There were musicians all over the road, and a local newspaper's classifieds has dozens of writer and artist workshops.

Seeking an answer behind this creative haven in the middle of nowhere, I approached a tourist official. Emily Carr, one of Canada's greatest artists, was a Victoria resident, she said. She's a national icon and has inspired a whole new generation of artists in the region, she said. That's not the end.

The city is so remote it feels like being in wilderness, she said, and people are comfortable with the slow speed of life. As somewhat of an artist myself who really needs a year off, that felt palatable. With the fleeting thought of establishing residence there, I asked her about public transport in the area: the vast city is broken up by the lake and rivers, and residents can bike everywhere, she said. There is an airport too.

Nelly Furtado and Steve Nash are Victoria's other high-profile past residents, Wikipedia mentions. But behind Victoria's stark beauty is a conclave of artists, who remain anonymous and prefer to keep their city a secret.

(In the next entry, I'll move deeper into remote British Columbia, where warm and tasty Samosas are sold in the most remote confines.)

Dominate the weather

2007-04-14T14:35:00.000-07:00

Guess who America's new enemy is? Mother nature. Yikes, I'm shaking.

A weather check was in order to follow up on the plan to play catch at Lafayette Park. Turned to Weather Channel, where an argument was raging about U.S. satellites "defeating" global warming.

A new weather satellite wasn't needed to prove global warming, a cool-headed scientist said. A reduction in the Great Lakes' levels was enough to prove that, he said.

The political sluggo balked at the theory, following Bush administration's official line.

"Global warming isn't real. You guys said El Nino was real, but it wasn't." he boasted. Rather than theoretical garbage, new satellites would provide weather-tracking tools to help scientists make more accurate predictions, he said. He was clearly pointing the middle finger at the scientist.

New satellites will ensure "[Hurricane] Katrinas don't happen again," he continued. Satellites will be a solid weapon in "America's war" on weather as global environmental trends will become predictable. Satellites would help the U.S. "dominate the weather."

Before wunderkid suggested the sale of San Francisco to Canada because of Mother Nature's earthquake threats, common sense set in at Weather Channel. An anchor interrupted, giving the scientist the last word.

The scientist's cool-as-a-cucumber attitude hadn't waved. He said that global warming was real, and any new tool, no matter how dominant they were, couldn't combat Mother Nature.

Crafting a new friendship?

2007-03-30T21:03:00.000-07:00

Awaiting a phone call from SG on where to meet for dinner, I'm stoic. I haven't seen her in a long time, and ten years on, I feel queasy with the idea of chatting with her. Some tough issues may be on tap, and I'm not sure how it's going to turn out.

In college, we spent most time together studying in the library, though we did social things. During those years, she started seeing a guy she met at a party I hosted. A happy couple, but what happened next was surprise, shock. A few months after splitting from college, I got wedding invites from both families. I couldn't attend their wedding, nor could I really keep in touch with much more to focus on.

She called last week, saying she's in South Bay for a medical conference. I asked her how she was, she's fine, and now, divorced. I don't know why I feel the pressure, but these folks met at a bash I threw, and now we might have to talk about her divorce, and her ex-husband, who I also know. It's tough taking two sides, and it's a fine line to tread.

It's a line I rather not tread, but the topic will definitely come up. How long will we chat about Saag Paneer, Rasmalai or Indian beer?

Harold and Kumar go to Amsterdam... then?

2007-03-19T17:23:00.000-07:00

A while ago, I mentioned Harold and Kumar going to Amsterdam for their next adventure. That's just the start...they're go waaay beyond Amsterdam.

Assuming they are terrorists, Harold and Kumar are sent from Amsterdam to Guantanamo Bay, from where they escape to Texas. They ultimately end up in the White House where George W. sets them free.

It sounds like the ultimate stoner flick, if it lives up to its promising premise. Get George W. high on pot, and then watch him chat in Georgian.

The departed

2007-03-13T10:52:00.000-07:00

Out of nowhere, a few weeks ago, Mehfil restaurant bore a sign saying "We had to shut down because of a fire. We will be back." There was no warning, it just shut overnight. As a main source of lunch, I was disappointed (How many times can a human eat a sandwich or baguette?)

The sign, written by pen, was so casual that I assumed it would be back overnight. Three weeks have passed, it is still shut, and I'm worrying it will never come back. It's the only lunch place I cherish South of Market. Time to investigate just what went wrong.

I called, but nobody answered the phone. Lunch vendors are known to be gossipy, so I checked with a lady two blocks down as she made a tomato melt over foccacia bread.

"There was a fire in their kitchen," she said. "I think some kind of oil pan caught fire."

That seemed not too bad -- consider flambe -- so why was it was taking so long to reopen?

"The authorities have to inspect everything again," she said. Authorities investigate how it happened, whether the place is a threat to consumers and building residents, if it meets health standards, if it's a future fire hazard and what not. She couldn't stop rattling.

"It may be a little while before they reopen," she said, with a slighted look of pity as she looked downward to the sandwich, cutting it in half. "The restaurant business is difficult in many ways."

"But as long as it's shut, I'll get more business," she said, with a cheeky smile.

Jamming it up

2007-03-08T18:55:00.000-08:00

What's a bad jam? Musicians with drumsticks and trumpets in hand attacking me for single-handedly destroying a good jam. Ok, I'm not that bad a bass/pedal steel guitarist, but I'm not that good either. In a jam, make sure other instruments blanket my inconsistent guitar riffs -- xylophones, bongos, jamba drums, whatever it takes..

Compare that to my mercurial younger bro-- street performer, multitalented, lost soul, overall good guy. Last he was talking banjo -- not the "banjo pizza" at his closest pizzeria. He knows tablas, keyboards, piano, mandolins and I'm guessing, banjos. He'll eat a guitar for dinner. He really may. His choices are crazy-- he's taking 6 courses this semester, because he "wants to get [university] over with." Dude, take it easy.

I've been digesting loads of music lately, gearing up to attend the Spring Jazz session in SF. It's gonna be awesome. Prep-work's like a concert: listen to tunes, shout out the lyrics, really pump up and go frickin' crazy when the real deal starts. Jazz isn't the same -- it needs a little bit of patience -- a bit frustrating at times. But I want the rare treat of witnessing some thick, thick bass during the fest. Nobody gives bass primary focus, that was commonplace in old times.

At 16, the sounds from elder bro's Spyro Gyra and "Happy Birthday, Charlie Brown" tapes/CDs hit the ear. Soon came Herbie Hancock and Stevie Wonder. Hooked on to jazz. Now elder bro's going rastaman all the way. It's quite a change for him, from jazz to now, Pras.

Then I heard Kenny G. I actually liked his stuff , but when people trashed him, I started badmouthing him too. "He looks like Michael Bolton," I'd say. That's when I really started hating him.

"Real" jazz artists accuse Kenny G of trivializing jazz by jumping to the pop genre. Whatever that mean. Jazz does have a niche, but let a musician do what they want. It's like Sheetal Sheth being stuck in desi movies, that's just sad to see. I want to see her in Hol.... ok, I won't cheat by mentioning fluff stuff, because my deepest desires are absolutely X-rated. I'd rather not say, but I'm swooning just thinking of her. Figure out the rest.

Jazz artists are also sour on university bands, it's easy to see why. Hearing college trumpeteers is like hearing 500 Kenny G's playing at a football game. You need a Herb Alpert to appreciate the trumpet, he brings a whole new level of appreciation to the instrument. Though pop, he's a great trumpet player, and a musical supergenius.

He holds some crazy music records -- the only one to have 5 albums on the billboard charts at the same time, the only to win Grammys for an instrumental and vocal performance. Nobody can match his versatility. He's not the best trumpet artist, but his stuff is cool on the ear.

Mom if you're ignoring the jazz bit, wondering if Sheetal Sheth's my wife or girlfriend and whether we have a lovechild -- here's an assignment for the week -- learn how to use a search engine! Find out yourself. . You've worked hard trying to find me a wife, take a small break from it.

Watch out, there's an Abominable Snowman

2007-02-26T23:34:00.000-08:00

Some run to the bathroom, some run across the Sahara. It's natural instinct, gut feeling. And a few people did trek 5,000 miles across the Sahara, but not without reality striking one runner.

Stuck in a nasty sandstorm, he sat down and asked himself: "What [the hell] am I doing?" But, he persevered and finished the trek. Battling extreme conditions, these guys are an inspiration. Compare that to Slavomir Rawicz, who wrote an amazingly boffo book: "The Long Walk."

Slav's amazingly 'true' story is about his capture and unjust imprisonment in a Gulag, escape and trek from near the Arctic Circle into India. He walks through Siberia, Mongolia, Gobi desert and the Himalayas, ultimately landing up in Calcutta. To do that is incredible -- humanly impossible -- his will to live must have been amazing.

First, he crosses Siberia, living on camp supplies and hunted animals and fish. He swims across rivers effortlessly. Amazing, I thought. Soon, Slav and his escapee gang meet Mongolians with conical caps. They walk across the unforgiving Gobi sands, dehydrated and killing snakes for dinner.

I told myself "Wow. This is absolutely unreal. I didn't know Mongolians wore conical caps and Gobi had snakes."

Soon they climb hard Himalayan peaks, all hungry, tired and cold. Wow, dude, this really can't be happening.

And then Slav sees the Abominable Snowman. Arghh! In one quick second, reality came crumbling down. This guy is a fraud.

But who was to prove this story is fake? Channel 4 did an expose of this so-called "true story." He didn't do the long walk, nor was he innocent.

Official records indicated that Rawicz was sent to prison for killing an NKVD officer, and he was released as part of an Polish amnesty. (NKVD is KGB's predecessor.) He went on to fight in World War II out of Russia, not from Palestine, where he claims to have fought from.

Nevertheless, the story's an interesting read. The literature's strange -- words like 'blouse,' 'garter,' and 'girdle' are used to describe men's clothing. It reads like a design journal at times with rooms detailed in excruciatingly painful detail. And of course, the Abominable Snowman gets 2-3 pages.

Blunders apart, the campy plot makes up for the poor literature. If you're into Russia/Mongolia stuff, pick it up.

Cool to the G

2007-02-13T19:05:00.000-08:00

Jazz artist Praful brings coolness to retro Gujju names. Sure, the guy did some dumb stuff during his day, like spending time with Osho, but who hasn't (done weird stuff, not spend time with Osho.)

His name came up when chatting with a friend about Bebel Gilberto's upcoming grassroots album and how Diana Krall deserves a Grammy for best jazz vocal album (Nancy Wilson won). This friend -- a freakish jazz artist who swears by Charlie Parker -- then switched to Praful.

"Pray-fool," he said, "is amazing. You have to hear him." A Gujju wielding a tenor sax playing bossa nova? I just couldn't believe it.

So I googled. And his Web site, which purveyed interesting sounds, the type you'd hear at Pearl's or on a Buddha Bar CD. He looks Indian, born in Germany, cheesily noting that he's a "citizen of the world." He's also a 5th kyu in Judo, which isn't really saying a lot (it's really far from a black belt.)

He seemed like an Oliver Rajamani-Bally Sagoo mix. Rajamani in the number of instruments he plays (sax and flute/bansuri), his love for world music. Also like Rajamani in his self-obsession with music, forgetting the audience after a while and striking his own, unexplainable tangent in Roma/world music rendition. Bally Sagoo in that he can hit the right beats and mix it up.

Pray-fool's real story comes after he lost his "voice," his inner sanctum of peace, karma et al. To confront "burnout and personal problems, he went in search for inner peace and his own lost voice. He spent 6 months in India in the Ashram of the enlightened teacher Osho, followed by 6 months in Brazil."

The enlightened Osho openly distributed dope and loved the idea of a ménage-à-trois, but he's changed the lives of many people, including Praful. After six months with Osho's gang, Praful was back on his feet, re-obsessed with the sax and collaborating with some really cool sounding groups. He topped the U.S. jazz charts with the single "Sigh".

It's fun tracking the Indian alternative music scene -- through desi parties, BBC's Asian Network radio station or bootleg CDs -- but somehow Praful's passed my radar, even during my days in London, where the Indian alt scene's just booming.

He collaborated with the radical chant artist Deva Premal, who I can't bear, but any work with her means Praful has to be good. I suspect his stuff's gonna be like The Thievery Corporation, or similar, with some more Indian riffs to it. In any case, should make for interesting hear given his background. Next stop: Amoeba!

Sepia Mutiny's journalism effect

2007-02-07T16:33:00.000-08:00

"Wire stories don't have Jhumpa Lahiri quality text," a PR friend told me recently. I was telling her how Bengali's had great family relations but bad food.

I looked back at her blankly. "Do you expect every breaking story to be a Jhumpa Lahiri book?"

"No, but you guys can write better," she replied.

She was driving me nuts. "Do you expect Shakesperean text from a reporter who gets 15 minutes to write a story?"

"Atleast you can fix it," she replied, with no sign of giving up.

"I get only one pass to check a story for structure, errs and inconsistency. Even Jhumpa Lahiri can't perfect a story in that time." I said, hoping she'd go away for a pee or something.

Welcome to a day in my life as an editor.

Our news unit's full of easily excitable and talented folks who thrive under pressure. News is constantly breaking, we're on call 24/7 and there's barely any time to enjoy a sit-down lunch. The newsroom is humming: phone calls flowing in, wires tracking news, editors reminding reporters that an error could cost them their job. A wire job usually holds a short leash.

The're something sexy about breaking news. It's fun being a journalist, but we're feeling a pinch from the bloggers who break news and provide a spin on it too. Sepia Mutiny beats any news source with its humor spin and sources. A standard question between a desi colleague and me: "Did you read Sepia Mutiny today?"

Sepia Mutiny worries not just me, but other journalists. It dishes out meaty, selected info much quicker than us, without a formal editing process. It rips traditional journalism apart, getting rid of the journalist as an information provider and the editor as a gatekeeper. Sepia Mutiny in a way is killing journalism, or redefining it, however you want to look at it.

They also show news isn't limited to big conglomerates, unless they turn into one someday. You and I can publish news. Readers will figure out the trustworthy and untrustworthy bloggers over time.

CNN's taking a Sepia Mutiny-type approach with I-Reports, where a video camera in hand makes anyone a reporter. CNN says: You shoot breaking news, we'll carry and you can tell people "I reported for CNN." It's an interesting experiment, and the site has great stuff to surf through.

CNN's initiative says something -- journalism is open to everyone today. Journalists try to keep up, but a person standing next to you with a video camera as competition is a scary proposition.

In generic terms, journalism isn't specialist work like engineering or medicine. Adapting to work requires a few years in the profession. The real value as a journalist comes in skill versatility, contacts and specialties -- regional, science and others -- something that ultimately lands you in a think tank.

Traditional journalists are trying to adapt to the world created by bloggers and podcasters. Learning to blog, hold video cameras and edit videos, and podcast. No matter what, the race is to get information out quicker. Traditional journalism is crumbling, which is good news. Free information to people.

I saw that coming years ago, and regrouped to focus on specialties. That's my future, though I can't say the same about some other journalists I know.

Running away from Vista

2007-02-02T11:51:00.000-08:00

Give me a hammer, and the first thing I'll do is break my skanky old laptop PC, a work substitute. Time to go shopping for a new one.

Buy a Mac, a friend says. It's better hardware, more user friendly and it doesn't crash. But Mac-tops are delicate sweethearts -- I remember them smashing clean on one fall in journalism school. It just can't operate on the field like a Panasonic Toughbook or IBM T40 (a standard issue at work).

As a wire service guy, I need great stability, mobility and great battery life. A failed PC could cost me a job. I need to self-fix it on the fly. No IS department will fly in to help on the road.

Then hang on till summer, friend said, when Apple comes out with its new operating system and supporting hardware. Good try, but a Mac is a Mac, I can't see its use on the road, especially if it breaks down and costs me my job.

So I looked into Windows Vista PCs, recently launched, and found these interesting aspects which make it useless for laptop:

-> It needs a major investment in new hardware, especially for small, portable laptops.
-> Vista could sap up more battery life than XP. It's more demanding, and needs more hardware to operate.
-> It doesn't support all standard programs yet.
-> It's still incomplete, open to viruses though hardware vendors may claim otherwise.
-> I just understand XP very well and can fix issues quickly, or call someone to fix stuff. As long as I can file and edit a story and it works, I'm happy. It's not worth spending hours trying to fix a Vista problem, not worth it.

If it's a home PC, sure, I'd try Vista. But not as a portable, tiny laptop that I use as a work substitute. But if I were to buy a home PC, why not buy a Mac instead?

But what pisses me off even more -- I can't find a brand new laptop from Dell or HP that has XP. Microsoft is forcing Vista on us, taking advantage of us, just the f***ing way I don't want it.

But I could be wrong. If Microsoft didn't develop Vista with laptops and portability in mind, they certainly were dumb.

Back to search for deals. Try this site: dealcatcher.com

I am not crazy - please find me my sponge!

2007-01-31T12:27:00.000-08:00

(This SOS from a friend may sound insane, but it's the real deal. Help her!)

Ok, some of u know my obsession with dish washing and sponges. Some of you don't but now u have an indication.

The problem is, I can't find my second favorite sponge in any stores anywhere (Of course you must always have at least 2 kinds of sponges to do dishes with, in the first place) -- and it's been driving me crackers -- and some of u too.

I have now started dreaming of my second favorite sponge for which I have no name or brand except that I think I bought it at a dollar store and will go mad if I don't find the exact same thing very soon.

So to save me from going completely crazy I think my friends should look at the sponge section of every store they visit when they grocery shop. Yes.

It's blue and yellow, a sort of wavy rectangle, and has 3 layers - one cellulosey side and one rough scrubby side with a big layer of sponge in between. Beware the cheap imitations that have only a very thin layer on sponge in between - that will clearly not do!

Here's what it looks like.

If you see any, please let me know where -- I will be eternally grateful.

This is not a joke.

If u want to know y this is my second fav. one and what its unique qualities are over less superior sponges, or if u'd like to know about my most fav. sponge, or have any other sponge-related queries, call me!

Thank you :)

(PS.. Found! And am I glad to get rid of those filthy pictures of a used sponge. The distance I'll go to do things for a friend.)

Look, an anti-spy missile

2007-01-20T20:50:00.000-08:00

The Star Wars space defense program has always made the U.S. proud. So proud, that one day during the Cold War, Russia decided to challenge its effectiveness. Perhaps underestimating Russia, U.S. said 'sure, go ahead, let's see what you got.'

On Oct. 10, 1984, the Russians launched a low-power laser on U.S.'s Challenger space shuttle, which caused onboard equipment to malfunction and blinded the crew for a few seconds. The U.S. launched a diplomatic protest in response.

That, for starters, is an example of what anti-satellite (ASAT) weapons can do. Lasers can be ASAT weapons too, and Russia launched a low-power laser. Imagine what may have happened if a high-power laser was launched.

My imagination's running a bit wild now -- Imagine both countries launching lasers like crazy to destroy opponent satellites and spaceships. A couple of laser shots and cell phone companies could be out of business. That may be the future of warfare, who knows.

Now China's a George Lucas, sending a missile to devour its own satellite.

China supposedly used a kinetic energy missile to destroy its defunct Fengyun-1C weather satellite, originally launched into the orbit in 1999. When the speedy missile collided, it generated kinetic energy that destroyed the entire satellite and created loads of space garbage. The debris will now float around the orbit, perhaps threatening other satellites. Satellites move around the orbit fast, so any interruption could be potentially destructive.

That news -- of ASAT, not the space garbage -- raised US's and Russia's antlers, a reminder they aren't the Earth's only powers. Is India developing an ASAT weapons program? No doubt; it's only a question of somebody digging in and finding out the details.

Russia initially denied it, saying China's test were just false rumors. Was that an attempt to cover up China's test? No, surely not. Russia may sell China weapons, but the two are not friends. These two countries almost went to war many times. This test really happened.

Russia denied the story to maintain the validity of their own shaky ASAT weapons program, a friend said.

The need to destroy spy satellites during the Cold War gave birth to ASAT weapons, with U.S. and Russia researching options ranging from long-range missiles to lasers and the freakish nuclear-explosion powered laser. Many tests to destroy satellites were carried out in the orbit.

There were reports of U.S. spy satellites 'blanking out,' suspected to be the handiwork of Russian lasers, much like the Challenger spaceship in 1984. China also was accused of blanking out some U.S. spy satellites, which may indicate that their ASAT weapons program started in the 1960s or 70s.

In 1985, U.S successfully destroyed one of its satellites by launching a kinetic energy missile out of air.

Ultimately both U.S. and Russian ASAT weapons programs were scrapped for lack of concrete results, though have a system in place if a threat emerges, however shaky it may be. Add China to that list. U.S. and Russia will take a hard look at their current ASAT systems and try to redevelop it.

Tracking missiles into the orbit is the job of NORAD, an agency originally formed in 1958 to remain save our land from the Russian aerial threat. After the Cold War ended, its funding and personnel were drastically cut as it was deemed irrelevant.

NORAD was repurposed after 9/11, which served as a stark reminder of the threat posed by the skies. Hunkered in a Colorado bunker, thousands of U.S. personnel scan the sky for threats. With China's new development, NORAD's importance comes back into the spotlight. They will see more funding, for sure.

What's your poison?

2006-12-19T21:32:00.000-08:00

Putin's finding the most exotic poison to assassinate leaders, critics and what not. KGB poisoned Alexander Litvinenko with a rare compound -- Polonium -- apparently available in earth’s crust.

So, should I delete entries that pull Putin's leg? Who knows, my next vodka shot may contain some poison extracted from Pluto. I'm just a small fry, and Russia's playing for bigger stakes – the Russia is using China as its poison against the US.

Russia and China are not buddies – by no stretch of imagination – they are conveniently using each other to counter U.S. They almost went to war multiple times, most notably during the Cold War days, and that rift continues. Those conflicts revolved around border disputes in northwestern China (over islands in major rivers), and in the Far East.

Though, the two realize the threat U.S. poses to them. Basically, it's stupid if they didn't gang up to bully the U.S.. That alliance is shaking U.S.'s security interests globally. So, what exactly are they doing together?

Sharing weapons:

Russia's like the Wal-Mart of weaponry, they are supplying weapons to U.S.’s purported rivals – Iran, Venezuela and China, which concerns the U.S. China military spending is nuts ($105 billion or so, estimated), and that threatens U.S. dominance in the region. At best, the U.S. is trying to keep its Pacific relevance alive by using Taiwan and Japan as a bone against China, but China’s overpowering economic power is crushing it.

China's getting close to 95% of its weapons from Russia. China bought ship-borne fighters, a diesel submarine, tanks and other big iron from Russia. That’s a LOT, and the U.S. naturally is very concerned. Russia spent close to $6 billion on arms supply in 2006 according to Putin (yeah, right!).

The U.S./EU have tried slow Russian weapons supplies through sanctions on arms companies (Rosboronexport for arms and Sukhoi for jets), but failed as it barely pinched Russia. Russians don’t really care, they have arms customers in China, Iran (a missile-defense system), India (t-90 tanks), Venezuela (fighters and choppers) and many other countries in Africa and Asia.

Oil

China's oil spending is crazy, in the future they may overtake the U.S. The problem? They don't have their own oil reserves, so like the U.S., they may look outside.

The U.S. is going to war for oil, while China prefers to aggressively acquire oil companies in strategic areas. China’s strategic approach isn’t pissing off countries while growing its sphere of influence globally. That approach is worrying the U.S., and we all know that oil defines political influence.

So aggressive is China, that it even tried to acquire a dominant U.S. oil company, Unocal. The US gov't blocked that, worrying it would increase China’s influence over the U.S. oil industry. China's acquision of Central Asian oil firms has already increased its influence in Caspian oil reserves. But, the U.S. still holds an edge in oil because of OPEC’s blessing.

Russia already has global oil influence through Gazprom, and its growing oil relationship with China will hit U.S. directly in the belly. That is one area to look at closely in the future.

The voting rookie

2006-11-11T13:03:00.000-08:00

On a pretty San Francisco morning, I surveyed the 7 people in front of me on the voting line. Others were stuck to voting booths inside the room, so the wait seemed long. Figured stirring up a chat would help pass time.

Ahead of me was an aged black man wearing a veteran's cap and in formal wear; he seemed to have worked hard enough to deserve respect. Before I struck a conversation, the vet was greeted by a young black man approaching the line.

"Word up Stinky?" he told the vet. "How you doin' man?"

"Hello Jonathan, this seems a bit early for you," the veteran responded, his English proper. It was 7:45AM.

"Why standing in this line? What's goin' on?" John-John asked the vet, glaring curiously into the voting room.

"I'm voting Jonathan, today is Election Day," Stinky replied.

"What day?" John-John asked, still confused.

"Election Day. Maybe you should vote too." Stinky advised John-John. "If you can play a boombox, you can vote. It's important you vote; our lives could change with your vote. "

John-John started looking more and more excited about the idea of toppling a president. "How can I do it?" John-John asked.

"It's not hard. Here's an election form -- you just select who you want in public office and what policies you don't like," vet said. In SF, supposedly close to the tech capital of the world, we used paper ballots.

"Just walk in there, Jonathan" vet continued, pointing to the room, "and check if your name's on the list. Then they'll give you this form."

Stinky's speech was encouraging, an awe-inspiring demonstration of the need for every U.S. citizen to perform their civic duties.

"So who do I vote for, Stinky?" John-John asked, close to jumping up and down.

Stinky's mood stumbled. From close to saluting the U.S. flag, he now looked demoralized and flattened.

"Maybe it's a good idea for you not to vote Jonathan. May be next time." mumbled vet.

Borat fools reviewer

2006-11-04T17:37:00.000-08:00

Journalists shouldn't get as clumsy as Mr. William Arnold, who wrote a heartless review about Borat's movie for the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. The gentleman fell for a trap set by Borat, a fictional Kazakh journalist in the movie. Sample this:

In the review lead you'll see:

[Editor's Note: This review has been edited since it was originally published to remove a statement that could be interpreted as ethnically insensitive.]

What was so ethically insensitive that had to be removed? This line:

(He's obviously Islamic, but the movie is afraid to use the dreaded "I" word, and we have to guess it from his anti-Semitism.).

The removed sentence was at the end of this paragraph: Along the way, he has encounters with various American characters and institutions in which he demonstrates himself to be a sexist, racist, ultra-nationalistic, harrowingly crude and insensitive jerk.

Borat should be proud. Arnold, the reviewer, fell, hook, line and sinker for Borat's forte: acting dumb and making people laugh with his antics. Borat's really Sacha Baron Cohen, and being Jewish in real life, he can mock Judaism, atleast to an extent.

As for Arnold's review claim: is Borat the caricature an 'Islamic'? Borat does come from a Muslim nation, but Kazakhstan is multi-religious. His name (Borat Sagdiyev), by face value is Islamic, but he could also be Christian, or Hindu.

Arnold just assumes the "I" name and assumes the enmity between the "I" and "J". That's just sick. Does Borat use the "H" word for "Hindu"? I haven't seen the movie, so I don't know. It's a stupid assumption Arnold makes, something he should not be doing.

Borat's track record's impressive: he's gone as far as instigating the Kazakh president Nursultan Nazarbayev to call the powerful Bush to get Cohen to stop giving Kazakhstan bad PR. Personally, Nazarbayev's gesture was mighty impressive. In Central Asia, no leader cares about their country, atleast Nazarbayev does.

Goes without saying, Kazakhstan is not as bad as Borat makes it seem. Kazakhstan is the world's 9th largest country, and it has plenty of money with oil companies lining up to drill into its massive oil reserves.

I went on a day trip to Almaty, Kazakhstan's largest city (capital is Astana), and it seems like a modern city with a vibrant population. People are friendly, but they do seek an extra buck from tourists if given a chance, like in all Central Asian nations.

Some Kazakhs can be Borat-ish, especially the vodka sharpshooters along Mongolia's borders. That vodka culture has spread into the mountainous Mongolian province (aimag) of Bayan-Olgii, known as the unfriendlist part of Mongolia.

But .. the Kazakhs can be friendly folks. Who exactly are they? Mostly a mixture of Mongoloid, Cossack, Russian and more. Kazakhstan's been a stopping point for empires trying to expand, so Kazakh people have a nice mix of cultures. More about them in the next entry.

Strip

2006-10-29T20:07:00.000-08:00

(Rated R. Includes profanity, and comments that some women may find disrespectful. Absolutely classless entry, but I HAD to write this.)

It feels like a military school at home on Wednesday evenings, when roommate E's favorite trifecta of TV shows play. Starts with Tyra Banks' 'Model' show, some program, ending with 'Project Runaway.' She orders complete silence -- no clanking pans, talking on phone or eating toast. Sitting on the table after language class, I watch those disastrous shows -- I have no choice.

That is where I spotted Anchal, the Indian-American supermodel. She's cute, not necessarily super hot -- she doesn't induce my animal instinct, the way Sheetal Sheth does. Can Anchal be really sexy? Last week's Model episode had the answer, when wannabe models were shown how to be "sexy," not "slutty."

I was in the kitchen when I heard something like "I will teach you how to be sexy, not slutty," and my eyes popped open. I instinctively shouted, "STRIP, STRIP, WOOHOO!!" I mean, come on, I told you I was an SOB.

Hungry for more, I ran for the TV. E gave me a nasty glance -- she's all about women's rights and hates disrespect to women. I wasn't budged though, E's intense, dirty look can be pretty sexy, so hey, why not induce and enjoy that too.

Alas, the segment was nothing more than striptease fluff. E didn't want to hear, but I shouted, cheered and jeered with the segment asking them to do certain 'sexy' moves and yes, they reciprocated. Butt slaps, chest forward, that dirty, seductive look and other small knick knacks that add up. It was enjoyable, no doubt.

If the show's definition of sexy is being a stripper, how about two hot women dandling their pucking lips with each other as they strip for starters? Live performances may be found at Zeitgeist in SF on a warm Saturday night.

E looked at me in full horror. I was crashing her party, but she was impressed at how the wannabe models were responding to my will. We get lightly flirtatious at times, but she had never seen me like this.

She shouted: "I didn't expect an Indian to be like this!"

"Oh come on! An Indian isn't allowed to watch a striptease?" I cried.

She smiled, for once on a Wednesday evening. Thank goodness she wasn't going to beat me with a broom.

Poor Anchal struggled, she just couldn't be sexy. I don't know what a slut is -- maybe it's a term women assign to other women. The other women tried hard to be "sexy," one stood out, but it just wasn't a dirty stripshow that I expected.

Then, it was back to the same old garbage, so I headed back to my room. Don't know if Anchal was booted.

Over light banter next day, E asked me: "Why do I watch so much trashy TV?" This quirkiness is what makes her so awesome. I consoled her, saying "atleast you aren't listening to Billy Joel after a long day of work!"

(Postscript: Happy Halloween mum and dad, sorry if this entry makes you want to disown me. Back intellectual stuff that makes you proud soon, promise..)

A sample Diwali day in India

2006-10-19T17:52:00.000-07:00

Some Diwali tidbits as seen over years in India:

-> 6:40AM, the doorbell rings, and the milkman shows up, asking for a "Diwali baksheesh." Mom hand out Rs. 40, and no, that ain't enough. "I've worked so hard, gotten up early in the morning." Got a point, Mom adds Rs. 40 more. "And you better stop mixing water with the milk from now, or no more baksheesh." Milkman makes a run for it with his huge water bottle.

-> 7:15AM, newspaper delivery guy shows up. Perhaps the only day he reliably delivers the complete set of newspapers. More "Diwali Baksheesh." Mom hands Rs. 40, and paperguy says "What memsaheb? I served you so well!" Memsaheb gets livid, and pops up an annual list of the days on which he didn't deliver newspapers (like 183 days or something). "Either take the baksheesh or give it back." Paperguy scoots.

-> Cable TV repair guy shows up, around 10:25 a.m., to check the wires. "Baksheesh, madam." Mom's a bit blank. "But yesterday another cable guy came," she says. "Madam, he is cheat! I am the real cable guy!" His proof? Some bare cable wires, RadioShack type. Mom goes on "Cable TV is working fine, maybe you have come to the wrong flat."

-> Afternoon newspaper guy shows up at around 2:15, Mom is sleeping. Dad deals with this dude. "Diwali Baksheesh, sahib." Dad pops out Rs. 80. "What saheb, Memsaaheb promised more." Dad pops out Rs. 200 more. Mom finds out, she gets angry on Dad. "One thing Ma didn't teach you was how to bargain."

Diwali's awesome in India, except for visiting a crowded temple to pay respect to Krishna and his 16384 wives. Inadvertently, the slippers you leave outside get stolen.

Hot buns and Carl's Jr.

2006-10-15T02:47:00.000-07:00

After showing plenty of buns and getting down and dirty at Mr. Smith (a club somewhere around Market and 9th in San Francisco), I headed out looking for some chow. It was late, and the first place I found was a Carl's Jr. Not ideal for Hindus, but screw religion. I was hungry.

As I walked to the food slaughterhouse, I comforted a worried soul on the horn and asked her not worry about my drunken state. Truth? I was worried because she was more drunk, and she can drink like a gutter.

At Mr. Smith, I pocketed my glasses before hitting the floor. They got jammed, and they wouldn't open. All I could read on Carl's Jr.'s menu was "low fat" and the cashier ran the register. $7:03 was the bill, whatever dude. So I was getting "low fat," something that looked like a chicken sandwich.

Ended up being a burger with tomato, spinach and no bun. The lettuce jammed on both sides was the bun. Looked freaky at first, I'm like "what the f*** is this?" Turned out, it wasn't that bad. I was a bit wasted, but I know a burger when I taste it. Burgers really don't need buns.

With a surgery next week, my original plan at Melanie's place (she's back from Banda Aceh) wasn't to go to Mr. Smith. Then S spurted out that a DJ named "Omar" was spinning, and I thought Desi (Indian) music instantly. "I'm coming," I said. Fark it, who cares. Go for it, let vodka mix with the doctor's medicines.

Mr. Smith's a pretty good place, give it a try. After numerous vodka shots everybody started looking like a Desi, but I saw a substantial Indian crowd there.

On a larger scale, Mr Smith was good for me. An uncalculated move in the ongoing transition with a lot looming, this was a good antidote.

(Postscript: Drinking is NOT COOL. It is dangerous, can destroy lives, so avoid drinking if possible.)

Harold and Kumar go to....

2006-10-12T10:08:00.000-07:00

Wanna spread happiness around? Unwittingly, I spread around loads of it after mentioning the impending release of Harold and Kumar go to.... in 2007. Folks were so thrilled they started dancing around. Where do the White Castle freaks go? It's a no-brainer. The dope capital in Europe. Go ahead and Google for more info.

Also, as I walked to Market St. with a fellow journalist yesterday after work, a flowing conversation led to the kid's book "Charlotte's Web," where a little piggy enlists the help of a spider from becoming pork. As a kid, I never read it, I was just so obsessed with Dr. Seuss titles like "Go Dog Go" that I missed a whole generation of kiddie fiction.

Coincidentally, there's a film version of Charlotte's Web coming out too, in late 2006, I just saw the trailer a few days ago. Told her that, and so thrilled she was, she jumped on the streets.

Thinking about the fiction I've read for a while, it's been mixed. I started with Dr. Seuss, then moved to Enid Blyton-Roald Dahl type stuff, (forget the middle), then got to Hardy Boys (ok, I'm NOT embarassed!). A few uninspiring mysteries later I took on non-fiction, perhaps at 17 or 18. I'm still stuck on that end, like war stories and lives of real people. Occassionally, I read fiction, Don DeLillo's my favorite author.

Right now, I'm back to the basics -- Harry Potter VI. It's frustrating at times to see the verbosity -- I'm a pro editor -- but keep in mind, the book is written for kids who need more words to understand the sentence. It takes real talent to write such easy-to-read books, hats off to JK Rowling.

The misguided, rock music-obsessed Chick Pea is a person who writes like that in the blog universe. Simple language, an easy-to-read format and great structure make her blog super fun to read. Dr. Seuss' absolute, puristic influence. Her prescriptions will be terrible to read though.

The railing connection

2006-10-11T18:23:00.000-07:00

Picture two babies fighting over a toy -- that is Russia and Georgia's political feud. In between their torrid love affairs, its baffling just how much they fight.

Last year, both countries decided to reestablish the Transcaucasian rail link between Moscow and Tbilisi that was severed years earlier. The rail resumed earlier this year, but with problems about establishing checkpoints and other usual blah.

Then, Moscow stopped the rail link with Georgia when the conflict started late Sept. Technically, not exactly.

Moscow still operates trains to Abkhazia, a semi-autonomous Georgian province where Russia supports the rebels fighting Georgian forces. Russia first established a rail connection with Abkhazia in 2004. Georgia got upset, saying Russia's actions encouraged separatism in Georgia. Russia didn't care. They yelled boo and kept chugging.

The Abkhazia train service was a minor issue in the widespread fight between Georgia and Russia. Now that Russia has suspended the Tbilisi-Moscow service, that issue could pop up again.

Each political issue they bring to the table -- like the train one -- is so immature and imbecile that it feels like babies fighting over milk. That's just the political issues; the non-political conflict in Abkhazia and South Ossetia itself is a very serious matter.

Russia has invested a lot in Georgia, so as long as transportation remains severed, Georgia will suffer economically. Armenia for certain wants the service running, as the train floats from Moscow to Tbilisi down to Baku carrying loads of freight and keeping Armenia's trade connection with Russia alive. At this point, Armenia just has no say.

Try the best they can to bring this fight to the world stage, Russia won't succeed. The world has a lot more crap to deal with right now than Georgia, an unharmful little country in the Russian backwaters. Russia has done what it could to publicize the affair -- evacuate citizens and personnel, sever transport links, try to impose trade sanctions, run a pony and monkey show -- but none of it will work anymore.

This conflict will hopefully end soon, and the trains will run again.

Imbalance is Russia's fine balance

2006-09-30T13:45:00.000-07:00

How effective is the UN? It took a month to broker the Lebanon-Israel deal, after hundreds died. On the flip side, without the UN, a deal would have been impossible. The bloated UN juices resources, but it has anamazing micro-level success rate where political agenda doesn't rule.

On a macro level, it's a different and exciting affair for the UN, like the Georgia-Russia bouts. After a long silence, their dormant UN sparring affair is back.

Georgia recently arrested four Russian soldiers, accused of being spies. These were army officers, not just enlisted men, so Russia raised a stink in the UN. Russia also staged an overdramatic evacuation of its embassy personnel in Tbilisi, Georgia's capital.

Russia either does it or overdoes it. There's never a fine balance. That also applies in the larger context of the decade-old Georgia-Russia conflict, which has killed millions. The arrests are tied to the conflict.

Georgia wants the UN to stop Russia from supporting rebels in Abkhazia and South Ossetia, regions seeking independence from Georgia. Russia's response? Georgia can't handle its own regions, so the UN should vote to grant Abkhazia and South Ossetia independence. I chronicled the Abkhazia conflict in an earlier entry.

Russia's vision of the ground reality could be true. Georgia's treatment of Abkhaz and Ossetians was and is pathetic, which is why locals rebeled. Georgia is now loading up on arms to fight the rebels.

Russia is alarmed by Georgia's arms race over the rebel threat, as it doesn't want another conflict spilling into its borders (let's say they don't want another Chechnya). We're big, so let's be the peacemakers, Russia thinks.

If a conflict starts, Russia will be forced to send its army as peacekeepers (which has happened before). The peacekeepers will help the rebels break away from Georgia. It will bring regional stability and Russia can close the door on this issue.

Georgia seems right in contending that Russia is meddling with its internal affairs. The rebels are receiving some help, and the KGB still bug washing machines. But having an embassy evacuated is a poor reason to waste eardrum space in the UN.

It's hard to judge who's right and who isn't because of the imbalance. Beyond the political chess, the ground reality seems somewhat different. The Russians and Georgians seem eager to cooperate.

(to be continued...)

Wedding -- not yet!

2006-09-26T10:51:00.000-07:00

Maybe I blew the wrong fuse in the last entry -- I rarely double-check my entries, so this one slipped. I may have misled people into the fact that I was getting married. Congratulatory mail's been flowing in, even my family grapevine's rumbling a bit. What's standing out though is some people wondering how I even reached this decision.

I am miserably indecisive, people know of my disastrous past with relationships ending because of, uh, indecisiveness. I can't turn vegetarian, I can't stay in one city for long, I can't give up the thought of being a lifelong student.

Some people understand my conundrum, but some wonder "who's the gal who can live up to all that crap?" Hold your horses. I don't want anyone else to suffer from my indecisive past. It's been my bugaboo through past relationships, and before I commit, I want to be sure where my life is going. And things could change.

So much longing...

2006-09-23T15:26:00.000-07:00

So, wow. Hello. I approach blogger.com for the first time in forever, and I get asked "do you want into Blogger Beta?" or similar. I've learnt it the hard way: avoid Betas, especially Microsoft garbage. Isn't Gmail in Beta? Maybe Google is safer.

It's never pleasant to be MIA. So where was I? In a dark room, imagining why 'Dancing with the Stars' is so darn popular? Perhaps, that could really be the answer.

Actually, every day has become bone-crushing busy as the *real* transitional phase approaches a close. I am excited, but a bit apprehensive. As you age, change is a bit hard to swallow, but it's not causing me sleepless nights yet.

For those wondering marriage, nope, the transition is not marriage at all. Not until the football season ends atleast. But that should be coming too. Invite-only. People keep telling me "I want to attend your marriage, that's the only chance I get to attend a *real* Indian wedding!" Now how about if I respond with a court wedding. The guest's Monsoon Wedding passions will go aflame, and damn, my house will get ransacked by a disgruntled person whose plane ticket money I wasted.

I'm writing this to get my blogging feet wet again. I feel lost, unsure what to write about. Things will be back to natural in a while. For now, I'll pump up the Bhangra music and rock up for what's going to be a wild Saturday nite.

Seen and heard...

2006-08-25T19:31:00.000-07:00

Seen in San Francisco over the last few days:

1) "Wife and dog kidnapped. Please help"

The sign of a homeless man seeking cash. Should I buy the story or not? The answer came pat.

"No checks please."

2) Sugar

The lighted neon sign of a new Hayes Valley restaurant, with a dark 'y' at the end. Out of curiousity, I checked in with their staff. It's original name was "Sugar-y," but they changed it. Doesn't matter -- both names are cheesy. Restaurant was packed, looks good.

Heard:

3) "Fu-tang"

Aunt wondered what a "futon" was. Told her about my futon sale, and she rattled out in all gujju-ness: "fu-tang? fu-tang soo chhe?" (what is fu-tang?). She's cool, part of the Fu-tang Clan. Like one of me homies.

4) "Snakes will eat you"

Mom, encouraged by the movie title Snakes on a Plane. Pajushan, a Jain festival, is on, and we're not supposed to eat green veggies, meat or dunkin donuts. Out of respect for granny, Mom requested we atleast not eat meat.

Being the useless, rebellious child, I declared "No, I'm gonna eat a mutton-chicken combo, what are you gonna do?" An angry Ma retaliated "Snakes will eat you one day then." So, I'm off meat for now.

Freshly manufactured caca

2006-08-21T15:10:00.000-07:00

It's fun to be an SOB in an argument with a gang of people. You get the attention, you are heard, and you are thought of as a radical. This weekend I went up against a gang of Indians who took protest to the whole Macaca incident. I found it funny, brilliantly covered by Wonkette and Sepia Mutiny.

The topic got boring after everyone agreed on Macaca being a derogatory slur. Time to spice up things, so donned the role of devil's advocate, the Indian George Allen. Here were my arguments:

1) Indians in India rattle out ethnic slurs endlessly. An example: how African students are insulted in Bombay. Nobody protests, nobody is ashamed. It's a huge disgrace. That's even worse than Allen's purported slur, if he meant it.

2) If Indians called other Indians Macaca, it wouldn't be an issue. It's like a generic slur that can be exchanged openly between Indians, but if said by somebody else, it's an issue. That adds up to racial profiling, and it is hypocritical on the people arguing with me, maintaining double standards.

3) Webb, for whom Macaca works, used the incident to gain political advantage over Allen. Did Webb purposely assign Macaca to video Allen? If yes, it worked. Macaca got his new name and Webb's rating in the Virginia polls went up a bit. Webb used Macaca, and Allen gets the blame.

Naturally I got pulped by the crowd for the weak arguments-- it was 5 on 1, not me vs Bush. But, things won't change. Macaca is still Macaca, you, I and even a kitchen table knows that. Even if he lives in the remotest confines of Africa, the Indians will find him. Or George Allen, if he loses the election.

Wack-o-mother

2006-08-17T08:48:00.000-07:00

My friend's parents don't like her drinking whiskey with masala dosa, especially in India. Not even wine or martini.

It took her only days to let loose after reaching the US, making up for years of alcohol deprival. Barhops every week, hip hop party invites walked in like junkmail. She partly got it from her father, a drinker who thought whiskey was a 'macho' drink.

For R's her ma, alcohol was a no no. She is a traditional South Indian woman, a homestead. Actually, what is a traditional South Indian woman?

Thinking R would enjoy a glass, I landed up at her place in New York with a vino bottle. She buzzed me in, and everything was gung ho, until lo and behold, I ran straight into her parents sitting in the living room, right by the door (R 'forgot' to tell me her parents were visiting.)

So there I was, wine bottle in hand, gazing at her parents, wondering what to do next. I could hide or call do something lame like call the vino a disinfectant or a special cooking product.

Their eyes fell on the wine first and then my face, alarmed.

As weird as it felt, I presented the wine to the parents. "Welcome, Aunty and Uncle. It is nice to see you."

R's parents, astonished, perhaps were wondering why I didn't give them an agarbatti instead of wine. R looked at me too, wondering just what the hell I was doing.

Her father gladly accepted the bottle, placed it on the table and said "beta (son), where is this store? Let's get some whiskey!"

Mother angrily shouted at her husband "What you always looking for whiskey whiskey. He has just come, let him rest." Her sneer glance turned from her husband to me.

"What is your name beta?"

I introduced myself. "I am R's friend, just came to visit you." So I was now visiting her parents; the pint plans with R vanished instantly.

The wine situation under control, I hunkered down and joined them to watch this disco woman crossing fingers across her eyes while performing some ill-advised PT stunt. Soon, R joined us too. Not many options now. Sit at home, because her mom wouldn't allow her daughter to be out late at night. Like it is in India.

For an hour we saw more strange PT moves and rated Hindi movie trailers Ebert N Roper-style.

R's mom hated that, being a sensitive TV watcher. To get rid of us, she turned into one of those evil TV mamas and gave us permission to head out for "ice cream."

"And don't bring back whiskey," to which mama's hubby whimpered.

Finally, jackets on, R & I headed out for a pint.

(Let me strongly recommend people: Alcohol is damaging to both the health and spirit. Please avoid it.)

Jill Carroll's Iraq mis-adventures

2006-08-13T18:31:00.000-07:00

USA Today is carrying the story of Jill Carroll's 82 days as a hostage in Iraq. It starts with how she was kidnapped and the initial days as a hostage, which is mindboggling. Further chapters will carry further details about her days as a captive to the Iraqi goons.

The first chapter is horrific, just the hors d'oeuvres. It promises to get more gory when she sheds light on what she went through.

I'm very curious about her release. It was vague and all of a sudden, like instant oatmeal, just too good to be true. Carroll's sister pleaded for her release on national TV one day, and voila, next day she was walking on the streets. It seems like a US government covered up for some deal brokered with someone (maybe the insurgents). It'll be interesting to hear her end of that angle.

There's no contesting how strong and brave she is. Unfortunately, Carroll's translator Alan Enwiya was killed by the goons. My prayers are with Alan's family. The Christian Science Monitor has established a fund to support them. I'm donating, and hope you will too, especially if you are a mediaperson.

Alan gave his life in the line of fire, maintaining the sanctity of our profession and dying for a cause we seek -- to tell the truth. The fund will enable his wife, two children and parents to start a new life with their relatives in the US.

You can send donations to:
The Alan Enwiya Fund
c/o The Christian Science Monitor
One Norway Street
Boston, MA 02115

(Postscript: I received multiple e-mails crying foul about her release. My theories could be naysay aka conspiracy theories, but there is an angle there to be investigated. Apologies to those hurt by it.)

Russian mail-order brides

2006-08-10T10:07:00.000-07:00

Mail-order brides give Ukraine a bad name. And of course they have the hackers, computer pirates, mafia, the corrupt elite (supposedly more corrupt than India) and much more to pinch your last penny.

The Ukrainian mail-order bride business has shook the US Embassy. The Kiev Embassy warns Americans of buyers beware for Ukrainian agencies dealing in brides/grooms. A bride "abandons or otherwise misuses the trust of the American partner" by disappearing. Brides get their visa and shazaam, they're gone.

Based on red flags, the Embassy makes the final decision on who to pass. Sometimes they get it right, sometimes *extremely* wrong. A friend, an American gal, went through the latter. J married a Russian man naturally, hoping to bring him back to the US.

American women are 'more reliable' in Russia (easier for Russian grooms to get a US visa than brides.). The US embassy raised some red flags in Jessica's case, and her Russian hubby was denied a US entry visa. So J stayed in the country.

The wedding was legit, atleast for J. Maybe the Russian man had some trick up his sleeve, I never met him so I can't say. J co-edited our newspaper; she'd come to work, do her thing, and disappear. It was impossible to figure out she was emotionally distraught.

Until a vodka session, where she spilt her heart out after a shot and Spaghetti "American Bolognaise." Either the food was terrible, or she really meant it. The US Embassy couldn't see her case.

Don't know where J is today, but hope she's doing well and happy. Last I heard, she had plans to move to the UK with the Russian man.

The tentacles of the Russian/Ukrainian mail-order bride business reaches far. And before the thought crosses your mind, I *didn't* go to Russia to find a bride! Though my mom would be happy if I married a Russian, Irish, Viking, Ugandan anyone. She wants me married, period.

Mudslinging

2006-08-04T14:06:00.000-07:00

I love slinging mud at morons, especially armchair quarterbacks. I've been on the receiving end, and it felt queasy. Why not reverse it for a change.

After a long time, I found one moron to compost. In mudslinging at Venus' blog, a gentleman Sreej*** said the spirit of Indians is great and sputtered his own agenda on how the Bombay train blasts could've been avoided.

Nothing wrong; he just seemed disaffected, compared to folks like, say, relatives of people who died in the blasts. That got me going with some classic trash talk -- unknown words, South Park terminology, you name it. Stuff designed for "turds" like him.

He fell right into the trap and returned with this baloney: "You are a journalist. I honestly do not know what newspaper accepted you as their employee, seeing your horrible language." (His usage? Queen's English. Verbose structure with *three* verb forms in the same sentence, inconsistent verb tense and wrong attribution. Sick, ugh. This is a blog for god's sake, calm down man.)

Anyways, my writing is bad. It really sucks. I'm not as elaborate as Brimful, Iditis or Mukta. Classic journalism isn't about good writing anyways; newspapers are boring to read. I can't even read my own articles. He deserved some heat, and I gave it to him.

If he's smart, he won't respond. Smart people avoid trash talk from losers like me. If he does, he's falling straight into a trap to put him through garbage disposal. Do I sound like a sicko? Hey, I *need* this one. In a world of smart people, lunkheads like him are hard to find.

But seriously, the broken spirit of people who lost loved ones in the blast won't 'bounce' back quickly. They are the people *really* affected by it. They can be found mourning a loss, not dancing in the alley.

The dangerous sidewalk

2006-07-31T10:00:00.000-07:00

Walking to work today was adventurous: A WWII German bike almost ran me down, a pooch chased me away. And I almost stepped on a homeless man camouflaged under some white cover.

Was I glad to get to the MUNI bus.

Maybe it was payback for the venom I spewed out at media in the previous blog entry. Or maybe it was Mom's curse -- she wasn't one bit happy about the filthy language I used in the entry. Mom being mom, she was perhaps worried that she didn't raise her children right.

It's family ethos to be nice, never to curse, to stay on one job and make plenty of $$ (not in my nomadic nature). My bank's run dry twice and I've landed up at my parents' doorstep for shelter. Mom's always been there, feeding me free chow and blabbering about how useless I am.

Mom's great and welcoming the first few days, then comes her request for a rent check. (read: you bum, hit the road, get to work.)

Not that she'll like the previous paragraph either. I'm kidding Mom, I love ya and how much you worry about me. And happy 21st birthday.

Bend that missile up yo ass

2006-07-29T23:31:00.000-07:00

(Rated R for *extreme* profanity and indecent language)

A "Bend it like Beckham" quip keeps playing itself in my head like a broken record. It goes like this:

"Paula: Get your lesbian feet out of my shoes!

Wedding Guest (older woman): She's not Lebanese, she's Punjabi!"

(from IMDB)

So, this may be a sick way to find humor in the Lesbian-Israeli war. But what am I upset about in the first place? CNN's tacky war footage. It has put on line everything -- my reporting experience, my j-school theory, my granny's mattress, you name it.

The iceholes at CNN garbaged it all overnight with their dumbf*** coverage.

Point in case: the dickwads at Hezbollah treating journalists like their whores. Even I wasn't had this bad during my sloppy ground coverage. CNN's a sitting duck dishing out Hezb propaganda to the world.

Wanna walk? Follow Hezb PR. Wanna pee? Sorry, all bathrooms destroyed by Israelis. Hezbollah's taking CNN for a ride -- making people shed fake tears, simulating false sirens of empty ambulances to show the world how peace loving and innocent they are. Oh, did a missile just fly over my head?

Just like WW1 coverage. Studios created war scenes, with Hollywood artists became Rambo Jrs and destroying Commies without a casualty. Their acting was so bad, we needed the Vietnam War to regain trust in Hollywood.

Video cameras criss-crossed Vietnam shooting images depicting death and despair. Hippies, who needed an excuse to have dope and free sex, hit the street like it were some Bob Marley concert.

"This gizmo called camera is bad news for our propaganda effort," the US military realized, finally getting with the program.

And then came the "embedded journalist," the ultimate f***tard of a concept that rubbished my j-school knowledge. Reporter became military's bitch, sat in cool tank to see desert all day long.

And the Israelis? If they had more planes, they'd knock out all mediapeople in the world, period. If you're in the way, they'll stick a missile up your ass. A bit crude, but atleast they're being honest about their intentions.

Beirut, love it or not

2006-07-25T22:24:00.000-07:00

Apparently Cynthia's connections with Beirut aren't disappearing, even after she escaped to Amman. (She should be in France soon.)

Today's NYT print edition carries her picture within a picture.

Confused? The NYT snap depicts tense Beirut residents chatting and sipping cuppas at a cafe. Cynthia's snap sits in the cafe -- of a lady in the Asian bicycle silhouette -- which she took in Beijing.

It's a beautiful shot, picked up by De Prague Cafe in Beirut where Cynthia hung out often, as she noted. It still lies there, many days after she left Beirut.

She noticed the photo she took being in NYT and suddenly e-mails started floating around. Now I'm holding multiple print editions of today's NYT to send to her and other friends.

For once, I don't have to burn down the NYT, which says only Beirut, Beirut, Beirut all day long. I am tired of Beirut. I'm tired of hearing American reports saying "Beirut," as if they were saying "Babe Ruth."

I'm tired of any footage about Lebanon, Israel and Palestine. Don't they get tired? Don't readers get tired? Am I the only one who finds Fox News a welcome respite these days?

So it's not only Cynthia. All of us will be connected to Beirut for a long, long time. Just like Ai-rack. Buckle up folks!

Running for cover in Beirut

2006-07-21T10:19:00.000-07:00

An acquaintance, Cynthia, fled Beirut after Israeli bombing started and successfully crossed the border into Jordan. She is now in Amman from where she's going to France.

Is she going back? I'm assuming yes, considering she left most of her belongings in Beirut. A reply to her is due, so many questions to ask. She crossed into Jordan with one bag and a camera in her hand. She captured some telling pictures fleeing from Beirut. Here's what she had to say in her mass e-mail:

"When i was waiting for a way to get out, i took photos. When i was passing the border with my only bag (I left everything in beirut) I took photos. when i saw a smiling face on my road, i took a photo. When I found other evacuated people in Amman, i took a photo. Thanks to morning shots, i had something to do and to think about."

(Morning Shots is an image section of an Inner and Central Asia webzine Pomegranate House, started by a friend who works in Beijing. For now, it is his personal effort where we also share pictures. Check it out. Images taken without permission, I'll get busted!)

Over the last 10 days, I've asked 4 people worldwide if they were safe (Beirut, Israel, India and Indonesia). This is a first, just shows *how* bad the world is today.

Cutting through the crap

2006-07-19T11:22:00.000-07:00

In mail today I received a copy of "Shop Smart," a new magazine launched by Consumer Reports, with an accompanying note saying it was targeted at women 30+.

Though a stick, I'm still a manly man, not a 30+ woman, I said after consulting a mirror, with a buff grunt thrown in. So out of all people, why did they send me a copy? Because they want me to trash it, and yes, I will with complete manly man pride.

The quarterly Shop Smart logo ends with a chatty ;) and it points out great buys by cutting through the crap they show in adverts.

Does sleeping on Tempur-pedic beds feel like sleeping on wet sand, as the ad claims? BS, Shop Smart says. They review a neat list of items from fitness products and vacuum cleaners to toasters and hula-hoops, pick your choice. Some are covered in detail, some in snapshots.

Women don't look for good HDTVs, but my roommate is, and that pointed out an issue -- it doesn't cover all products in one thin issue. Have to wait for another issue. Nor do they give a hint of products appearing in the next issue.

They focus on product quality, but don't care much about pricing. The ladies I know look for deals even more than I do as a Gujju, so this isn't the reference book for them. They listed Hewlett-Packard's PhotoSmart 335 printer at $130, though it's available at online shops for $55, according to PriceGrabber.com.

Of all print publications, every journalist expects only Consumer Reports to survive the blog hype, considering its encyclopaedic nature. Others will disappear, or move online. What challenges Shop Smart is the same question it poses - is it a smart magazine to buy?

Nada, just buy Consumer Reports. Or browse through it at a store. The 'Quick and Easy' guide Shop Smart claims to be isn't newsy or detailed enough. Their mish-mash of products covering different requirements is confusing. But again, I'm not a woman.

But yes, if I see detailed coverage of an HDTV, I will pick one up for guidance.

Loitering in Banda Aceh

2006-07-17T14:19:00.000-07:00

Friend Melanie Mel just can't sit at home and enjoy a Rice Krispies.

The nomad is back on the road after her stint with CARE, this time with Oxfam trying to patch up tsunami-torn Banda Aceh, a town in the Indonesian island of Sumatra. She will be there for 4 months, and her blog should have some interesting write-ups about her adventures, the recovering town and the region.

It hasn't even been a week since she left, and I'm sending out notes asking if she's safe. A terrible tsunami today struck the neighboring island of Java, unfortunately killing 110. Trust her to fall into such adventures. It's been her dream to help nonprofits, empower women and curse Dubya.

In an e-mail a few days ago, she mentioned heading to Bangkok in October, wondering if I knew a tailor. I'm extending this question to blog readers: if you know a good and inexpensive tailor in Bangkok, please mail me. Thanks! (thanks for the leads P)

Sochi's road to greatness

2006-07-14T10:56:00.000-07:00

The U.S. hosted the Winter Olympics a few years back, so can Russia be far behind? Last week Moscow backed Sochi's bid for the 2014 Winter Olympics.

So what is Sochi? I have no clue.

A Wikipedia visit revealed an amazing factoid: It's the second largest city in the world at 147 km, second to Honolulu. Honolulu the hugest city in the world?. Unbelievable!

Sochi's a resort where the Caucusus mountains meet the Black Sea, on the southern Russian border in Krasnodar Krai. (Russian borders are shaped weird, so the term "southern Russian border" is as vague as a Bush-ism.) Reading Krasnodar Krai was alarming, I took out my maps right away.

Just one glance at Sochi's geographic location to shout: "Aah, now this is *very* interesting!"

Sochi is *very* close to Georgian province of Abkhazia, which has been waging a war to breakaway from Georgia -- through militancy and diplomacy -- for years. Long story short, Russia wants Abkhazia, and its funding the rebels' small independence effort from Georgia.

Russia isn't shy about their desire to get Abkhazia, which isn't doing much for Georgia and won't do much for Russia than bring political problems. Technically, Russians insist they want to bring Abkhazians independence they've been fighting for, but the Georgians feel bullied.

With mininal power, Georgia has been resisting Russia's eye on Abkhazia for about 13 years now. It's also losing its control on Abkhazia with each passing day.

The desire for independence drove the Abkhaz people into a conflict with the Georgians in the early 90s. It was a brutal war - millions fled, many died. The CIS, and Russia, sent in peacekeepers, and the war turned into an independence struggle.

Unofficially, Russia supplied Abkhazian rebels with arms to counter the Georgians. As Georgia's control over the Abkhazia faded, Russia's increased. Now Russia literally controls the autonomous region, leading to massive tension between the two countries.

Trying to save every bit of land, the Georgians are telling the UN and world that the Russians have no business meddling in its internal affairs.

The UN recognizes Abkhazia as a Georgian province, not an independent state. Russia wants the UN to convince the Georgians to conduct an independence referendum in Abkhazia.

Technically, Abkhazia is considered a danger zone by the U.S. State Department, unless a person is Mad Max. The U.S. supports Georgia, unsurprisingly.

Sochi doesn't seem like a dangerous place, being a biosphere reserve and all. But, it is close to Abkhazia, and the International Olympic Committee (IOC) will certainly raise that as a concern for the 2014 Winter Olympics. It'll be up to Russia to put on the best face and convince the IOC that it is safe.

On the other hand, let's hope the world's most candid conflict ends. After Montenegro, I have a very strong feeling that Abkhazia could be the next country added to the world map. Russia is crushing Georgia on this one.

A Bombay dispatch: Luck of the draw

2006-07-11T21:35:00.000-07:00

Luck played a part in saving my younger bro from the Bombay bombs that killed 190 people. A lot of tragedy came with the blasts, which was targeted and followed a pattern. Certainly the hand of a big militant group.

My younger brother, from New York, is in Bombay right now on a 3-month internship for a venture capital firm.

What follows is a dispatch from him about yesterday's events, initial reactions and Bombay's FM radio, which preferred to broadcast junk Bollywood songs instead of reporting this massive event.

--

8 blasts rocked the city this evening. I'm OK.

For some fortunate impulsive reason, I decided to drive to work this morning.

Around the time of the blasts, the cellular networks got jammed and the Internet went down. A colleague's dad managed to get through to his cell and relayed the shocking news that a bomb had gone off in the local trains.

We took it lightly and figured that it'll get cleared up in no time. Within minutes we heard about the other blasts. I had the car, so packed in the car with whoever was left at office and left.

We had no clue how bad the situation really was. Bombay's radio FM was completely clueless, still playing songs of the 'chunari chunari' [Bollywood] kind. We kept scanning the stations for some news, but none of these mirchi masale-daar FM stations felt that news was worth any air-time.

The traffic was completely insane. What normally is a 45-minute drive, took close to 3-1/2 hours. Cars were bumper-to-bumper from Andheri to Worli [Bombay suburbs, 15-20 miles apart]. The streets were packed with people, trying to figure out how to get home. This was peak rush hour, when Mumbai gets off work.

[Bombay's mapped like a V. Andheri falls in V's upper part, where bro works, close to the blasts' location. Worli is lower, where bro and a lot of Bombay-ites stay.]

Only when I got home and switched on the news did I realize how bad the situation really is. The blasts went off at stations that i cross twice every day, six times a week. The blasts went off at around the same time that I would be on the train going home. [Bro usually travels in one of the 'First Class' compartments of a train, in which the bombs went off.]

Had I not driven to work, I could've been in one of those first-class bogeys ..

Flying high in the Russian sky

2006-07-09T20:34:00.000-07:00

I'm tracking news reports of an Airbus crash in Siberia a few hours back, killing 200 people. Tragic news, I'm so upset it's difficult for me to write a news digest about it. I'm angry in a way.

This is Siberian (Sibir) Airlines' 3rd major crash in 5 years. Repeat: 3rd crash. Maybe it was a terrorist attack, so Sibir gets a clean slate. But the other 2 Sibir tragedies were crashes, and nasty ones. After so many tragedies how can they still be in the air? All I can say: Avoid Sibir Air and save your life.

Maybe they are better than what I give them credit for. But for a major Russian airline, this is a sorry safety record. A black eye on their face.

Airbus takes a hit with this news. Just two months ago, an Airbus belonging to an Armenian airline crashed in Russia, killing 113 people. Before crashing this Airbus, Sibir crashed two Tupolev jets, a Boeing/Airbus alternative promoted by Russia.

Tupolevs may be safe, but Ilyushin and Antonov jets/turboprops still operated by airliners in Russia and other countries (mainly poor or ex-communist countries) are somewhat dangerous. These planes are old, shake while moving and feel generally unsafe. I've flown Russian flights and some feel like roller-coaster rides.

The Antonovs are especially bad. One AN-24 flight felt like a roller coaster ride. After landing at the destination, I kissed the ground and thanked god for being by my side.

Seven Antonov planes crashed in 2005, and 1 has gone down in 2006. The Mongolian national airline, MIAT, phased out the Antonov turboprops -- used for internal flights -- last year. A friend described MIAT turboprops as being like buses, crowded and passengers being treated like cows herded.

Though old, some dating back to the 50s, the Antonovs can be fixed easily, he said, like a jeep, which is why they were preferred. Boeings perhaps take a whole specialty technical staff. Mongolians have little money to buy new Boeings anyways, so they may keep the Antonovs until it completely runs into the ground.

Like MIAT did, money-sapped airliners may opt for Tupolevs. Though more robust than Antonovs and Ilyushins, a Tupolevs difference from, say, a Boeing can be felt right away. A Tupolev flight to Bishkek felt shakier and noisier, but it didn't feel unsafe.

Though Tupolev has a good safety record, the way the planes go down is disturbing. In 2001, A Sibir Airlines Tupolev plane exploded in the air and just disappeared. In 2004, two Tupolevs crashed simultaneously. The Russian gov't said the planes were attacked by terrorists, not yet proven.

Tupolev recently launched a new model -- the PSC -- which it says will be used for cargo. It is still pursuing a Concorde alternative. I hope it performs well, like the Boeing's Dreamliner or Airbus' superjumbo A380. Both planes attract lots of curiosity and I can't wait to sit in them.

Back to work...

Tea is like wine

2006-07-07T00:11:00.000-07:00

During Dad's visit last week I took him to a restaurant called Modern Tea, located at the cusp of Hayes Valley (opposite Suppenkueche, for those familiar).

The menu items were limited and the food was decent fare. The real charm was the tea list, which had unique flavors from all continents.

This restaurant is the genius of a tea-freak couple. The wife loved quality tea; mentioning Bigelow or Earl Grey made her tummy churn. The husband looked like a hippie and spoke like one, he even called my Dad dude once or twice.

Dad isn't a gastronomic adventurer, so he asked for a good old Darjeeling. Unavailable. Curious, dad asked why. Hippie said: "The Darjeeling crop wasn't good this season. Try Nepal, it's like Darjeeling." Now even more curious and in professor mode, dad sought more knowledge about how a crop is related to a tea's taste.

Tea is like wine, hippie's wife said. Each year tea leaves turns out good or bad, just like wine. This year's Darjeeling crop wasn't good, but Nepal was excellent, which has a similar texture and taste. It's traditional to have a Darjeeling and Assam on tea menus, she said, and luckily the Nepal crop turned out excellent this year.

It's difficult maintaining a tea menu. They have to juggle their menu continuously depending on the quality of a tea crop. The Assam in India is good this year, but they don't expect a good crop next year, so it may not to be on the menu.

I had my best tea ever there -- the "Seven sisters"(or something similar, can't remember). The rare tea is found in certain parts of China. After it finishes growing, the tea is turned into a cake and kept in caves for a while so it can develop its acquired taste. So hardened is the tea that its taste never changes, Hippie said. Even after 45 minutes, the tea tasted light and fresh and not bitter. Cost $4 or something, well worth it in a world where we senselessly spend $3 for a coffee.

Whenever I need tea advice, I'll go to them. Quality tea needs to be sought out, they said. Tazo was rated as a decent brand by them.

In support of neighborhood restaurants, I hope this place succeeds. There's something San Francisco-ish about the place -- a tea-freak couple putting their full passion into an effort, hopefully, with some business acumen.

Giving Newark its rap

2006-07-05T00:08:00.000-07:00

Newark gets thumbs up for its reputation as a highly accessible and convenient airport. I'm still trying to figure out how. I've had problems three straight times now:

- One for delayed baggage (trust Continental to always do that)

- One for entering the ladies bathroom by mistake (it was *really* by mistake!!)

- This time, for a tarmac full of planes that delayed my flight by 2-1/2 hours. After boarding the plane, the co-pilot said "Sorry, air traffic control says the tarmac is full of planes trying to take off at this time. we will take off in 45 minutes or so."

It took us 1-1/2 to start taxi, and another 1 hour on the tarmac before taking off.

Apparently this happens often at Newark, so take this from me: Buyer's beware flying from Newark between 8AM and 11:30AM. Either the queue is too large, or ATC is Continental's bitch for letting their planes take off before any other airlines'.

Anyways, if the problems are ironed out, it's a cool airport and the exteriors are slick. It's cheaper to get to Manhattan from Newark Liberty airport than from JFK. Considering Newark's rep as a crime haven, it actually seems safer outside the airport than JFK.

NY cabbies want Cal... only for 2 seconds

2006-06-27T22:21:00.000-07:00

Saying "I am from California" elicits ooh-aahs from many New York cabbies, who are frustrated with the dumb drivers, traffic and the drunk-people-without-wallet problems in the Big Apple.

They dream of California being a fantasyland with great weather and hot chicks (read Malibu). They talk about how they want leave the terrible New York behind and be a dreamboat in California.

Then you mention earthquakes and Oakland. New York suddenly feels fine to them.

The hideous Kinko

2006-06-22T01:04:00.000-07:00

Besides insurance companies and roommates using too much toilet paper, the biggest swindler on this planet is Kinko's. They cheated me of 60 cents just to check gmail.

A wine bottle in hand, I headed to a friend's place to start a drinking party while in NYC. Genius she is, friend sent the wrong address, or I may have noted the wrong address. I rang the bell of an apartment, which was answered by a Jerry Springer chick.

"You ringed wrong apart so get away," said a woman in a Middle Eastern accent over the buzzer. Would've been cool if she added "you bastard."

That wasn't S, she usually laughs. Before threatening woman came down with a chainsaw, I was on my way to Kinko's in the Upper East Side to check S's address.

It costs 30 cents a minute to access the Internet @ Kinko's. Repeat: 30 cents a minute. The ancient desktops takes a minute to boot, so 30 cents gone right there. Starting IE takes 45 seconds with the popups, so 30 more cents.

Overall, it took me 4 minutes to check friend's address on gmail -- starting the browser, shutting down popups etc. -- costing me $1.20.

So, Kinko's used kinky old 1999 Dell desktops to swindle people. Naturally, I'm not paying for what is their fault. So I go to the counter, tell a rep that I'm not paying for the prized Bronze Age Dell desktops that take 3 minutes to start/load IE. Rep cooperated and refunded 60 pips.

I'm cheap. That's just me. I want to justify every frickin penny I spend. Criminal organizations like Kinko's don't deserve the extra $0.60 that I can spend on...on...what can I buy for 60 cents? Perhaps an Apple Pie in McD's and perhaps Us Weekly, which I did actually buy.

In the end, she called with the right address and the party started at Chinese Mirch for dinner, which was argh, disappointing.

Seems like they've been uprooted from the homefood origins they were etched in. Instead of dishing out fresh stuff, the bowl was burning with microwaved stuff.

Didn't feel like eating, so we slinged each other in a chili-eating match after ordering innumerable chilis and half-n-halfs. Constantly fanning our mouths after a chili, proceeded by downing half-and-halfs to cool the mouth, made for some neat public viewing.

Delta's return to grace

2006-06-19T21:49:00.000-07:00

If I didn't have tons of miles in their frequent flyer program, I would've hated Delta. But I loved Song, their low-fare effort that came and went in the wink of an eye.

Song was spunky, flight attendants had a sense of humor and energy like Southwest has. Their flight times were weird.. leaving SFO in the afternoon, reaching Boston late night. That meant empty seats and I didn't mind forking out a few extra bucks to get three empty seats for some nice sack time. Delta being Delta, they got rid of Song and plan to incorporate that in their new cross-country services.

Delta was fun too. They'd waive all kinds of cancellation fees, but not when the op moved to agents in India. Just when you thought our Indian siblings would be nice and give us a home discount, they instead stick by the rulebook. So if you expect a waiver, dream on. You can try, sure. Charm better be at 100% and be ready to chat up about cricket and Sachin Tendulkar.

If that isn't shibby, don't even mention your reservation number: go straight to "I want to talk to your manager." Ok, a bit rude, but results needs aggression. And every $$ counts. Just hope you don't marry that person in the future. Spouse will recognize your barking voice, and demand a divorce. Weirder things have happened, and Delta can make anything happen.

I'm on my way to New York (past dated), and an attendant just barked at a bunch of people exchanging seats "What's wrong?" Say, what in the world happened to "how can I help you?"

So that's my story. Criss-crossing USA as my life moves into transition period bearing Delta flights and needing a weekend to recover from the shock of it.

Realize an update is due...

2006-06-17T20:23:00.000-07:00

... but hovering around the East Coast has halted it. Hope to soon file some notes about the rabid side of NYC and the airlines that take us there.

The King of morons

2006-06-01T23:08:00.000-07:00

I've seen the dumbest U.S. politician and he goes amazingly low for a vote. Point in case: Rep. Steve King of Iowa. He's not even savvy like another person we know.

His office recently created this pathbreaking report pointing out how Iraq was safer than Washington DC. The death rates in Washington DC (41 odd per 100,000) are higher than Iraq (27 per 100,000), statistically making Iraq a safer place, the moron said.

"But I recommend not to visit," he continued, with that politician smile. Of course you idiot, we're not dumb. But only if he had researched a bit more.

His report doesn't account for the death rate in Iraq's real battle zones. Only major cities, where people jam their asses at home besieged with fear of getting killed by a car bomb. People aren't stupid, they know fear when they smell it.

So where did the data come from? "From a site called" icasualty.org." A Google search revealed no such legitimate site. He was actually referring to icasualties.org, a compilation of Iraq death reports issued by CENTCOM, or Iraq's Central Command.

King's next big thing really made my blood boil. "Iraq is not being portrayed correctly by the news media."

So incensed I was that I'm still clenching my teeth. Just a few days ago, two fellow journalists died covering Iraq and one was badly injured. More than 65 have now died covering Iraq since the war started in 2003.

Reporters in Iraq are dying in the search of truth, and they are accused of "misleading" people, that too, by a politician? Journalists do mislead people, no doubt, but look who's talking here. A political chimpanzee named King, who relies on scummy data available and doesn't even get that right. Some politicians treat reporters like soldiers, but this guy was operating on a few joints.

King's job is to mislead people, so he was just doing his job. Point is, he doesn't know how to add style and substance to his crap talk, making him a well-equipped moron.

Iraq technically being a safer place than DC. Hmmm. I'm still astonished. Let alone thinking, how can anyone even *say* that?

Sporty Indian cyclist

2006-05-30T12:09:00.000-07:00

Don't call cyclists bikers, especially the Indian ones. I made that mistake once and the growl was worth hearing. Separate the bikers and cyclists, be it for any community. I've made it generic.

One Indian cyclist rocked the sidewalk I walked to work today morning. She rode one of those tiny fold-up bikes, an uneasy vehicle but relevant city transport. She creakily navigated through the crowded sidewalk, as if riding a scooter through a crowded street in Madras.

It looked like a Candid Camera trick or some scene for a spoof show, but it was real. I swear she could've banged into anyone at any moment. It annoyed me a bit, but the pedestrians enjoyed the scene, encouraging her with thumbs ups and cheery smiles.

This was after I saw a Buddhist monk standing in a line to get into the SFPD building/courthouse. I'm not saying Buddhist monks aren't capable of crimes, he perhaps jaywalked not knowing where he'd find karma. Or he was on jury duty. It was just an interesting sight, this robed monk standing and praying to god with his beads, sandwiched between women on cellphones. Not an everyday sight.

Interesting morning.

The future of Montenegro?

2006-05-26T11:34:00.000-07:00

Serbians seemingly never stop their mischief. Their interference in the referendum fell a tad short of denying Montenegro independence. They only had to import a few more dummy voters from Croatia or Russia on May 21...

Montenegro got about 56% of the vote for independence from Serbia, barely a few % points above the minimum requirement set by the EU.

The new country's premier criticized Serbia meddling around with the referendum. Cool down dude, you *won* the election, so keep it positive. And precaution: don't mess with the Serbs. They can really screw Montenegro at will. Fortunately, the Serbs have recognized the new sovereign nation.

The new nation faces many challenges, Serbia's only one of them. Reporters may misspell the new country and National Geographic may decide not to create a world map for financial reasons -- Montenegro can't do anything.

On a serious note, my thought process would be something like this if I were heading Montenegro:

""

Neighbors are my first first concern. The battle-tested Serbian and Kosovar populations are quite a handful for my peaceful population, so a support system to tackle them would help. Call on the superpowers -- US, EU and Russia. It is a lock that landlocked Serbia will meddle, as they would drool over the ports at the Adriatics and Mediterranean Sea for trade.

Focus more on the West. Lobbying for EU support is the best; it's a quick way to get on the fast-track for EU membership and develop economically. As Serbia also seeks EU membershtip, EU will discourage the Serbs from meddling in Montenegro. U.S. may be good for Coke and Wendy's, but keep them in the background for now.

Stay away from Russia and its dubious reputation. (Russia doesn't expect attention, if they need Montenegro, they will just conquer it.) China.. where is China? Forget Asia for now, focus on the West.

Disconnect Montenegro from other Balkan nations which have a dubious reputation of pride and prejudice (which will never happen. The Balkan Effect will never disappear, given its location. Had it bordered Austria, perhaps yes...) Try to avoid the infiltration of Serbs and Kosovars who will try to leave their lands searching for a better life.

Create an identity promoting Montenegrin nationalism. Draw from the country's past and bury the tumultuous Yugoslav years to create that new identity. The EU should give Montenegrins a reputation where quick business can be conducted.

Become a dictator ummm..... naah, bad idea for now.

""

Is it shameful to be Indian? (part 2 of 2)

2006-05-20T12:10:00.000-07:00

(Previously... got chatting with an "Indian"-looking girl in a restaurant about descent. She was Malay of Punjabi descent, but looked very Indian.)

"I am Malaysian of Punjabi descent," G said, with a different accent indicating she wasn't from India.

That is where the trouble started.

Her eyes had some distinct Malay features-- which I didn't notice -- Erin pointed them on the way home.

"Don't get to meet Indians from Malaysia everday," I said. Wrong, wrong. She bristled.

"I am Malay and Punjabi. I don't like to be called Indian. I can't stand people calling me Indian at Bhangra parties," she said, throwing a few bones to analyze her.

She seemed idealistic, so time to set up the chat rules:

1) Don't argue with her..
2) Agree with whatever she says..
3) Ensure she doesn't brainwash me into some crazy religious or cultural thought process.

"Why is that [you hate being called Indian]?" I asked, out of curiosity.

"The only connection with Punjab is through my Mom, and her village was in Pakistan, not India," G said. "Call me Punjabi, I'm happy with that." she said. Her hand loitered in the air and voice got intense.

I got her point. She was Indian as we'd generically identify, but with intense Punjabi history/culture pride. She loved traditional Bhangra music with dholaks, not Talvin Singh's fat beats. She respected Maharaja Ranjit Singh, a great Punjabi ruler who ironically was based in Pakistan.

But *why* was she upset at being tagged an Indian? Punjabis had a remote connection with being "Indian," a simple, unharmful 6 letter word. Right, I'm Gujarati, Jew of the East, but I didn't mind turning into a 'Nepali' to avoid chat with Indian cab drivers. What was so difficult with a simple cultural transformation?

"Historically, Afghanistan and Pakistan were part of the Indian subcontinent," I said, adding a dumb factoid into the intensifying flame.

"Punjab could have been in Pakistan after [Indian] independence, and I would've been a Pakistani, which I am not. I treat India the same way. Malaysia is my country." she said, getting into a groove I felt uncomfortable with.

She simply felt no connection to India. She even referred to Gujaratis as "Jews of the East," not "Jews of India," a rather easier simile I would have preferred to hear. Was she challenging the concept of modern India, a mish-mash of cultures? Continuing a historical argument wouldn't serve a purpose, she was kicking ass in that.

"I know some Punjabis who wouldn't mind being called Indians, like my sister-in-law. I think it's relative to each person," I said.

"Do your Gujarati friends really feel Indian?" G asked somewhat fiercely.

"I don't know where we [Gujaratis] were from, maybe China, Japan or San Francisco, but we're now Indians," I said, garnishing facts about the India/being-Indian concept. "Some feel Indian, perhaps not all. Many don't mind being called Indian for the cultural connection." Maybe I was BS-ing, but it sounded good.

"They [Gujaratis] have their choice," G said, cooling down a bit. "When I use a term, I want to mean it. I've never been to India and I have no connection there, so I don't understand what being Indian is like. I'd like to keep it that way," she said passionately. "Though, I'd like to go to India and my village in Pakistan someday."

Every few seconds G swigged her beer, a sure sign of her Punjabi-ness. She controlled the conversation and my head. Time to bust-a-rhyme and put the topic on hold. G seemingly had a point to prove, so she kept going.

"Being Indian is such a wide term. Do you prefer being called Gujarati or Indian?" G asked.

"Maybe desi is the right word?" I said with my Colgate smile, trying to lighten up the argument. The last thing I wanted was a ruckus in a peaceful restaurant.

G rested her hands on the bar table, looking me straight in the eyes with a beautiful smile.

Erin, monitoring the chat next to me, smelled the one-second silence and asked me to join her for a smoke outside. Twas a surprise, none of us smoked.

"Is everything okay with the two of you?" Erin asked outside.

"Oh yeah, everything's just fine." I said. "Where's the ciggy?"

Is it shameful to be Indian? (part 1 of 2)

2006-05-17T08:31:00.000-07:00

Sitting on barstools at Chow by Church and Market, roommate Erin insisted I chat up with an (Indian) girl sitting alone next to me, reading a book. I don't disturb people reading, it's just not me. I don't like being charmed by a random stranger when reading The Onion.

So Plan 1 came to action. Crack loud jokes to try attract her attention. Erin knew my gameplan, so she assisted with fake laughs to anything I said. Her performance was lousy, but it worked.

Indian girl looked toward us for 5-10 seconds and I got my hint -- she was willing to be disturbed. I made my move, nibbling Erin's back indicating I was going for the kill.

"Are you waiting for someone? You are welcome to join us," I told her. In support, Erin flashed her million-dollar smile. Indian girl smiled back, so happy as if she had waited for us for eternity. I wasn't well-groomed that day -- hair was scruffy, beard bore the peace sign. But not a hassle. Indian gal was in the fold.

"Thank you!" Her book shut down.

"You are welcome," I said. Erin got back to her business.

"Cheers!" G said, and the glasses tinkled.

"Are you waiting for someone?" I asked.

"Actually, I'm new to this city and I heard a lot about this place, so I came for a meal."

She opened up many topics to chat about, so I let loose. After 5 minutes, we were chatting about DJs in Sacramento and how they stayed in Indian motels free of cost.

"Asian motels," she corrected me. Well, Gujjus own the motels and Gujjus are Indians, so where did I go wrong? I mulled over it for a second.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"Boston," I cleared. "And then it's a long story." Atleast I wasn't from Vermont.

"What is your ancestry?" she asked, digging deeper. Thankfully, as a Gujarati, my story didn't reach the motel dead-end.

"Gujarati," I said, proudly. "Dad's supposed to be Mongolian, but we can't prove it." She gave me a strange look. Darn, I should've realized. Presenting my quirky sense of humor a bit too early. "Just kidding actually. We all are Gujaratis."

"Aha, Jews of the East," she crackled, with a huge smile on her face.

"Jews of the East?" I asked. "Serious? Where did you get that from?" Happened so that Erin, who is Jewish, and I were headed out to see a Jewish comedian perform that evening, but didn't find seats. G took centerstage.

"You are the businessmen. The money makers," G said.

"I seriously hope you'd pay for my beer G! I have not a pretty penny in my pocket," I said. Only if I could add us being money hoarders.

"What are you of the East?" I asked her.

"I am Malaysian of Punjabi descent," she said, with a very different accent indicating she wasn't from India. And that is where the trouble started.

(to be continued...)

I hate Dunkin' Donuts

2006-05-16T16:15:00.000-07:00

I've been tripping around East Coast over the last 15 days, but finally back.

It's amazing how your love for Dunkin Donuts changes to hate within 15 days. Many observations about Boston, but so many, I can't even fathom.

I'll be writing a two-part version about how this woman changed my views on how to look at Indians. Sorry can't jam it into one piece.

In the meanwhile, monitor Montenegro's possible independence (from Serbia) referendum on May 21. Funnily enough, Serbia-Montenegro is sending a combo team to the soccer World Cup. Tough choice.

Tree-hugger and more communist essays

2006-05-01T15:57:00.000-07:00

In university, after a drunken night, a classmate banged her head on a tree to convince me that I belonged to her, only her and nobody else. And I was this skinny, dim-witted dude with a rainforest of unkempt hair wondering how to get the situation under control.

Partly it was my fault -- for some odd reason, I have associated with the most psychotic women on this planet -- but she just took the cake. I told her if she wanted to chop a tree, she'd be better off in the Amazon, and asked a friend to drop her home.

Next day in the class, she didn't remember anything, though a small scar on her forehead from behind her mountain of makeup was worth a million words. Even mascara didn't save her from dropping a small tear about it. Darn, was she a nutcase.

Continuing about university essays from the last entries, I couldn't resist Russia/Eastern Europe in college, so I majored in war journalism. (Had to separate the previous entry from this for the profanity thing..but some more follows)

Anyways, scouring j-school essays, hit upon one on how TV helped knock out communism in East Europe. I read *27 books/articles in one month* to complete it. I now struggle to finish San Francisco Chronicle's sports section.

You may find a treasure trove of information in college essays *you* authored. I found this amazing extract of an essay I wrote on how TV helped trash communism in East Germany, Czechslovakia and Romania. Warning: it's informative, but academic in nature. (Sectional references edited out for readability. For the curious, they are: G. Baines (1990), G. Robinson (1995), C. Sparks & A. Reading (1994), M. Smid (1992), P. Gross (1995), J. Alter (1990), P. Novosel (1995))

“First, we will take Eastern Europe, then the masses of Asia, then we will encircle the United States which will be the last bastion of capitalism. We will not have to attack. It will fall like an overripe grapefruit into our hands”

-Vladimir Ilyich Lenin

REVOLUTION AND TELEVISION

What really surprises most people is that the peaceful fall of communism in Czechslovakia (November 1989), Romania (December 1989) and East Germany (October 1989) went unarmed . How did that happen? According to Baines, television was one of the “key catalysts to change in Eastern Europe”.

Giving a stance of all Eastern European nations would be impossible, so I would like to focus on the three aforementioned nations to help manifest my argument. Please note that in this section, I am just trying to explain the revolutions, and a little description of how the TV system reacted to the revolutions. The judgements and critiques will come in the “Arguments” section.

East Germany

On October 1989, a demonstration was organized on the streets of Leipzig, East Germany, where people demanded “opinion and informational freedom” thus making “media democratization one of the central issues of the campaign." Western TV stations beamed images of these demonstrations to East German homes.

Erich Honecker, feeling threatened by these TV images, ordered the military to stop the next demonstration with the use of force. The next demonstration involved half a million people, forcing Honecker to retract his order to massacre. Half a million lives were saved, and the Berlin wall was broken to form a united, democratic Germany.

All the while, East Germany had uncontrolled access to the next-door West German television signals. The West Germans relentlessly beamed images that acted as a contrast to the propagandist East German TV.

Czechslovakia

On November 17, 1989, a pro-democracy student demonstration was organized in Prague, Czechslovakia where the “communist system was most rigid." Milos Jakes, the Prime Minister, suppressed the protest with the help of the riot police. Images of the suppression were replayed on TV (with the help of a clandestine video) and on “large television screens set up by street corners."

Czechslovak TV was striving to provide images of that event on TV, but Milos Jakes restrained them from doing so. That led to a dispute between Jakes and the TV authorities. On November 25, Czechslovak TV provided live images of a huge pro-democracy demonstration. Jakes resigned, and Vaclav Havel appeared on television for the first time.

The communist system in Czechslovakia and its control on TV was most rigid in all of the Eastern European nations. Non-socialist programs were discouraged and there was one whole channel dedicated to “the rebroadcast of Russian TV."

Romania

Based on the media model prescribed above, the erstwhile Romanian Television had no credibility in the programs it produced. The people got fed up of the propaganda they meted out, and they relied on foreign TV channels for information.

Romanian audiences had free access to foreign TV signals: those who had satellites could view CNN, Sky News et al; those with TV antennae could access the Bulgarian, Hungarian, Yugoslavian and Russian TV channels.

Before December 22 (when communism was ousted from Romania) the revolutions in other Eastern European countries were being beamed into Romanian living rooms, harvesting the seeds of revolution amongst the public. Their images of other nations succeeding in ousting communism gave them hope.

On Dec 21, 1989 Ceausescu’s rally, which had a booing audience, was broadcast live on Romanian Television. When the last bit of his speech was blanked out (censored) by Romanian TV, people moved out onto the streets in confusion of what had transpired. Ceausescu’s regime was ousted the next day, and the communist Romanian TV was restructured a day later.

Cool school days and those communist essays

2006-04-28T12:50:00.000-07:00

(Rated R for profanity)

I'm missing university rummaging through essays written as journalism school assignments. Amazing how hard I worked then -- whether drinking or putting in hours of study/research -- now I'm a bum.

It was one crazy essay titled "The Dolly Folly" about cloning that made j-school a nightmare. I worded it like a funny Sun article; the lede was "Who would you like to reproduce with? Pamela Anderson? Cate Blanchett? Sorry, if you can't get the original, then try a duplicate – who maybe available elsewhere."

It ended with "I think cloning is not good. I wouldn't want a clone writing this essay or a clone teaching me this subject."

In the middle? Daft junk like this: ".. as genetics can help create an embryo out of a few tissues and cells, will the women need the men anymore? Women, who prefer to have the men, think "We say it in a joke that we don't need men, but it would be horrible if there weren't any." Right again.. sometimes newspapers can't do without men either."

The krusty old professor, expecting an academic essay, naturally didn't take a liking to the humorous twist: he almost ducked me on the subject. Asked him if I could rewrite the essay to improve the grade, and he said: "do they call it bhaago (run) in Hindi?" Boogie-woogied straight for the door.

That one stupid essay killed my overall j-school grades. (tbc)

Free Diver

2006-04-24T09:43:00.000-07:00

Exploring the marine world is best done without scuba gear -- just take of deep breath and deep dive into the water. That came from "Free Diver," the best TV program I've seen in a long, long time. It aired on Animal Planet on Sunday.

It's peaceful and easy on the eyes, like Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind. You can sit there and watch it for hours hoping it never ends.

Free diving is the best way to interact with fish, said Tanya Streeter, a freediving champ who presents Free Diver. Scuba gear produces bubbles that distracts fish, making natural interaction difficult.

Free Diver has a lazy, idyllic feel to it; great jazz music plays in the background as Streeter dons flippers and a face-protector and frolics alongside turtles, whales, manatees, and other amazing mammals or birds underwater. She's like the Rambo of free divers, spotting and swimming with any marine life in her path.

The flippers and face protector made her look like another fish that attracted the curiousity of seals and penguins. Seals played catch with her underwater; Streeter instantly became a ring leader of a gang of penguins, who followed her wherever she went.

From Galapagos to the Turks and Caicos, she visits islands where the water is blue and the environment free of people. Life underwater seems so calm. If only we could slow down and be at peace with life like it is underwater...

And yes, free diving is an official sport! Without scuba gear, free divers hold their breath and take a free dip into the water. Whoever holds the longest breath and goes the deepest wins. Look out though, you never know where sharks are lurking, and timing needs to be impeccable. If you can't hold your breath for more than a minute, make sure you get up by then.

Streeter held her breath for 6 minutes and went 100+ meters deep into the water, both world records, according to her. In Free Diver, she'd come up, take a deep breath and go down again.

We're still human. A Galapagos turtle can hold its breath and stay underwater for 8 straight hours; iguanas for only a minute to chow on seaweed, the only thing they eat.

The program packs interesting information, though some questions remain unanswered. The penguin breed went unanswered in the Galapagos section, she just called them "tiny penguins," not a breed. They weren't King Penguins, so which ones were they?

It gets a bit self-indugent during the whale encore, but by that time, my mind is set: I want to free dive, for recreational purposes atleast. I never knew the possibilities that free diving opens up. Scuba diving or snorkelling doesn't even compare.

Which is now obsession: to free dive in the islands, if that's ever possible! It's time to hit my cousin's volleyball pool in Arizona to start training.

A lawyer for dessert

2006-04-20T13:51:00.000-07:00

Putin doesn't know where to stop. The big Yukos bosses are already behind the slammer, and Putin has the massive oil company in his piggybank. He isn't happy with the desserts either.

An ex-Yukos lawyer will join her bosses and enjoy contraband in jail now. The recent sentencing of Svetlana Bakhmina, a Yukos lawyer, to seven years in prison on tax evasion charges is the latest in the Yukos gang crackdown. She may be released on compassionate grounds as she has two young boys to take care of.

On the face, living in a Russian jail might sound like a Poltergeist rerun, but it actually isn't that bad. The ex-Yukos chief Mikhail Khodorkovsky has his own cell phone, TV and other goodies in his cell, just like Al Capone did when he spent time in prison.

A smart guy given a cell phone? Sounds like a dumb idea, but Russian's wouldn't allow it unless they saw some benefit. It goes without saying that the phone is being tapped, and Khodorkovsky has to know about it.

This is all just naysay, thinking aloud. Maybe Putin is footing Khodorkovsky's phone bill to legalize his black market money.

Any other jail news? Oh yeah, apparently 40 goofy prisoners in a Russian jail revolted against the warden, demanding not guns, not vodka, but *women*. I mean, what about freedom? Has any Russian even heard that word?

So a deal was negotiatied and the revolution ended peacefully, with some demands of the prisoners being met. Yeah, right! No women; most of the 40 were shipped out to other jails.

Russian jails sound like fun. Make sure you visit one on your next trip there.

Supermarket frenzy -- paper or plastic?

2006-04-14T11:19:00.000-07:00

Ever been jipped in a Russian supermarket? I was and it wasn't fun. On entering a huge supermarket in a central Russian city, I was asked to leave my backpack at the front desk as I couldn't take it in for security reasons.

Bought spaghetti, pasta, chai, checked out, got the backpack and walked home merrily. Checked it on reaching home -- my credit card was gone!

Stupidly enough, I left the credit card inside my backpack when I handed it over. How dumb can a person get?

Somebody was enjoying my credit card -- s/he perhaps bought a TV, video, and Pootie Tang by now-- and there was no Visa office next door I could call to get it cancelled.

Luckily enough, few stores in central Russia accept credit cards. Transactions are mainly cash-based and lots of bargaining takes place, even at the check-out counters of fixed-price supermarkets. Give Russians a chance to bargain, and they'll notch your skin for every penny.

Back at the store the next day, store employees reported seeing no credit card. A different guy from yesterday was seated at the baggage counter, and he asked me to visit the police. Basically, only if a policeman was your uncle or nephew would you get any results.

I reported the theft to the American Embassy, who provided the name of a policeman who was surprisingly nice and accomodating. He saw no way to solve the problem, saying I could've dropped it on the way home.

By that time, I called Visa in the US who cancelled the card and sent some emergency funds via Western Union. Visa couldn't dispatch a new card via snail mail because of Russia's unreliable postage system. I had my UK debit card so I asked them to avoid the godawesome expense of FedEx-ing a new card overnight.

Another dumb decision -- that bank account soon ran out of cash for some undisclosed "overdraft charges." Apparently the bank called up my dad and threatened him that if I didn't pony up the cash, they'd make sure I never got a loan again in the UK. What followed was even more eventful, but that's reserved for a few pints.

Otherwise, Russian supermarkets are great hang-out spots. They have loads of imported Italian pasta, broken shopping carts, Sri Lankan tea, bootleg CDs and replica Sony TVs. And they are heated. But that isn't attractive enough; most people prefer neighborhood stores within the block.

Russians buy most of the malako (milk), yitso (egg) from babushkas in corner stores or farmer markets, especially in the Caucasus and Urals.

Putting those babushkas out of business is the first thing Western retail chains want to do to succeed in the Russian market. Like how Wal-Mart got rid of mom and pop shops in the U.S. But their future is bright, shown by a recent string of acquisitions and expansions.

Russia has a version of Wal-Mart too, just born. This week, chains Pyaterochka and Perekriostok merged in a US$1.2 billion deal to create Russia's largest supermarket chain. And Metro, the German superstore operator, said it would open more stores in middle Russian cities (population 1 million or more, if I guessed correctly.)

But Metro is a German chain.

Germans carry their own bags to supermarkets as stores don't issue paper or plastic. Just like Whole Foods in San Francisco, which issues a $0.05 donation chip per bag you don't ask for.

Russians would instead cash in the donation chip to buy an additional jellybean. But that's why I love them: they play hard and rest for them means drinking Guava or Spaghetti Squash vodka.

30 worst pick-up lines

2006-04-10T17:55:00.000-07:00

(Rated R for explicit content)

Apparently South India's Telugu language is the "Italian of the East." Sigh. What next? Cockney is the "Gujarati of the West?"

Resultant, there are some cheesy Telugu pickup lines, like "Are you from Italy?" or "you look Italian" or "you sound very Italian." When a friend hears one of those, her ears go sore for hours.

There are lousier pickup lines to be heard, according to a website, like:

- "I'm here. What were your other two wishes?"
- Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?
- Nice dress. Can I talk you out of it?
- That dress would look great - on my bedroom floor.
- I may not be Fred Flintstone but I could make your Bedrock
- I seem to have lost my telephone number, may I borrow yours?
- Get your coat, you've pulled.
- Here's 20p. Call your mum and tell her you won't be home tonight.
- If you think you'll regret it in the morning, we could sleep until afternoon.
- Is it hot in here or is it you?
- Does God know you've escaped from heaven?
- I think I've seen you on the cover of Playboy.
- I'm new around here. Could you direct me to your flat?
- If I could arrange the alphabet I would put U and I together.
- There's something wrong with my eyes - I can't taken them off you.
- I'd really like to see how you look when I'm naked.
- I wish you were a door so I could bang you all day.
- Do you sleep on your stomach or can I?
- You must be tired. You've been running through my mind all evening.
- What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this.
- You look like someone I know.
- Do you come here often?
- Drink up - you've pulled.
- How do you like your eggs in the morning?
- I feel like Richard Gere because I'm standing next to the Pretty Woman.
- You're great at fishing because you've caught me – hook, line and sinker.
- Bond. James Bond.
- You look so good I could drink your bath water.
- Are you free tonight, or will it cost me?
- If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me?

(Apologies for the continuous Rated R stuff. I'll get back to talking Russia soon!)

Jill Carroll's back

2006-04-05T22:27:00.000-07:00

This comes a bit late, but Jill Carroll is back, and she's already indulged in some Americana, streaking her hair purple and smiling at the discovery of freedom.

The big question is: Did the U.S. government broker a deal to get her released? Or did she work with the captors to get the freelance money CSM owed her? (kidding!!) We'll perhaps never get an answer, but my gut instinct says, yes, perhaps. Her family seemingly didn't have any cash, nor did the Christian Science Monitor, for which she wrote (and will perhaps write.) CSM has no option but to offer her another assignment.

Most print media organizations in general don't have any money, and the situation's getting worse every day. CSM couldn't have afforded the ransom money, so it has to be the US government.

Her twin sister pleaded for her release one day, and next day, voila, she popped out of nowhere. The back-to-back string of events is a bit mysterious, perhaps a sign of some cover up. That mystery will never be solved, so I'll just celebrate her return.

I checked for her updates everyday over the last few months -- new statements, pleas, or clues of her being found -- it seemed like a never ending saga.

As for her controversial statements, when anyone's head is under the gun, they'll say anything. It's a pressure situation.

So what's next for her? She seems to be enjoying the rest. But she's a writer and may be getting fat book offers. For now she's eligible for worker's compensation benefits, which means filling out forms and going through red tape.

The CSM folks say she won't be writing for them for now. I hope she writes a book.

She will, however, revisit Iraq, it's a lock. She belongs to a rare breed of journalists who don't let the past interfere with their future. International reporting requires guts, and she has loads of it. If she can fill out the worker's compensation forms, she can do anything.

But I'm better. My specialty is to cook up amazingly unreal stories. Guts? Plenty of it. Only when playing golf.

The sixth roommate

2006-03-29T00:09:00.000-08:00

(Rated R for profanity and pot)

Over a cuppa joe on a wintery NYC morning, younger bro detailed his new digs to Dad and I. He shared it with 6 others near Coney Island; as a struggler, he couldn't afford a fancy joint in Manhattan or even Hoboken.

It was the 6th roommate that raised dad's heckles. The first few roommates were the standard struggling NYC folks: actors, writers, artists. The 6th roommate came out of the blue, literally.

"And the sixth one sells whips, chains, hancuffs. You know, fetish stuff," bro said.

"Who is fetish?" asked Dad with curious eyes. OK, either Dad was being insanely funny or a geezer from ancient India.

"Dad, you don't know fetish?" I asked.

"Know I don't. Who is fetish?" he asked once again. This comes from a university professor, who enjoys talking stock prices.

"Dad, it's sex stuff. She works at a sex store," bro said, forced to answer.

Dad, a simple man, for a second mulled over Ms. Fetish and her consequences.

"Get out," dad said wryly, looking at his cuppa, ashamed. He pointed his finger to the door, indicating he wanted younger bro out of that apartment.

Bro and I broke out into fits of laughter, believing dad hadn't come to terms with younger bro's adulthood.

"Dad, she's not my bride, don't worry!" bro said, cracking up. "She won't hurt me."

It took a while for dad to get the scene, but he joined us with a laugh or two.

But this isn't the biggest life secret dad will keep.

As a university professor in 1970s Boston, some of his students thought he was a drug dealer and landed up at our home seeking pot. Dad had to convince them that "just because he was funny in class didn't mean he was a drug dealer." He would have kept quiet about this -- Mom forced it out of him during a family cocktail hour.

Anyways, thankfully for dad's vanilla values, bro soon moved to Manhattan over a bagel shop, where he got free bagels and coffee everyday. Gone were the crocodile tears of his youngest son living with a fetish store concierge.

Some watery details

2006-03-21T17:24:00.000-08:00

A huge line snaked up to Castro Theater, waiting patiently to see Deepa Mehta's "Water." This is an hour before the show started; we found our spot in the line after walking what seemed like a mile.

Met some new folks; we talked about a peace project taken up by Yumi, a young philanthropist, of getting 100,000 Indian and Pakistani children to write love letters to each other. She did something similar in Darfur, Sudan. But the most amazing Yumi factoid? She doesn't have health insurance, despite all this risk.

Anyways, finally came "Water," that shows how Hindu widows were/are mistreated. Mehta said incensed Hindu fundamentalists destroyed the movie's original set in Varanasi because they conceived it as a potshot at the Vedas and Hinduism.

Angry, she moved ship to Sri Lanka to complete the movie, according to a K. K also pointed out that many movie extras looked unmistakably similar to South Indians.

"Water" took me back to my Indian schooling days, where I learnt that leaders like Gandhi and Raja Rammohan Roy promoted equal rights for Hindu castes. Water digs deeper and explores what seems amiss from those history lessons.

Going solely by the movie, it seems like my Indian history lessons reveal lots of misinformation and cover ups by the teachers. Not for a second do I believe that Maratha king Shivaji escaped from a Mughal sweetmeat basket -- that seems like a legend for children, unless someone proves it to me. Movies like Water seem to break such stereotypes.

Water seemingly lags like Terrence Malick movies, so patience please! If you've reached this far in the blog, you certainly have patience enough to see the 2-hour long Water. I won't reveal any more watery details, watch it if you want more of the interesting movie.

Continuing with teaching, wasn't there a teacher who called Bush a war criminal? In retrospect, I disagree with his teaching style. Fill a child's curiosity with fact, not fiction, misinformation or cover ups like I got sometimes as a student in Indian schools. Some of that information remains ingrained in my head, and I'm still trying to shed it off.

Please settle Kosovo, please

2006-03-13T09:45:00.000-08:00

How many know Mother Teresa was Albanian? In Albania, they even have a holiday on Oct. 19 in Mother's memory. While generally known as peaceful people like the Mother, they have rankled up other ethnic groups in Balkan nations like Macedonia and Serbia.

In the 1990s, when CNN was brand new to India, hearing about new places like Kosovo and Bosnia-Herzegovina was amusing. Kosovo rhymed with Laad-vo, a great fatty Gujju sweet. Herzegovina rhymed with "Kameena" (bast***), and I'd look into the mirror and shout Amitabh Bachchan-style: "You Kamina Herzegovina!" Helped me fine-tune the terrible Hindi skills I was acquiring through Bollywood films.

Kosovo's still in the news and now hurting my ear. The 90% ethnic Albanian population in Kosovo believes their land should be freed; the Serbs disagree. Men being men, the Serbs and Albanians picked up their guns to resolve the feud on the streerts. Pristina, Kosovo's capital, turned into a war zone and the Serbs left a trail of destruction on the Kosovars.

Which led to Clinton's and NATO's ravaging of Yugoslavia in 1999, but Kosovars still weren't happy. Yugoslavia was vanquished, but Kosovo was now a state of the new Serbia-Montenegro -- cool name, but Albanians don't really care about names. So the battle continues, albeit political and diplomatic.

Kosovo's new prime minister, Agim Ceku, supports Kosovo's independence and British foreign minister Jack Straw recently said that Kosovo's road to independence is "almost inevitable," perhaps after a pint or two. It's obvious Tony B and his cronies are for Kosovo's independence from Serbia. The macho Serbia is outright denying Kosovo an independent nation status.

The Macedonians don't like the Albanians and its no secret, according to a friend. Ethnic Albanian refugees spilled into Macedonia during the Kosovo war, and their population grew to an extent where they demanded an independent nation.

That pissed off an already angry Macedonian population, which led to a civil war between both groups in 2001. It was stopped after the UN intervened, but tensions are still high.

We all can't be brave like Evel Knievel, so give Kosovo benefit of the doubt, some countries believe. In a proposal to the UN, Bulgaria is going to suggest independence to Kosovars. They realize the ethnic Albanians are volatile and if the Kosovo conflict continues, it could overflow into their country and resultant, spread the chaos, which Bulgaria doesn't want.

Personal thoughts? I don't care, I want my MTV. For Albanians: please, I'm not degrading you. Indians are violent too. We are self-conniving people who watch soap operas where daughter-in-laws fight mother-in-laws.

Drunk clocks down under

2006-03-10T20:10:00.000-08:00

Saw this cryptic message on the Windows Update site:

--
Update for Windows XP/Date: 2/28/2006Download size: 479 KB

Australia has changed the regularly scheduled end of Daylight Saving Time in five Australian states from March 2006 to the first Sunday of April 2006 due to the 2006 Commonwealth Games. Install this update to enable your computer to automatically adjust the computer clock on the correct date. After you install this item, you may have to restart your computer."

--

So, well, there you go. Enjoy.

Post-Oscar watch

2006-03-07T21:49:00.000-08:00

Crash won the Oscar for best film, but I'm disappointed. The film took a serious jab at every ethnic community but the desis. Why were Indians ignored?

I expressed dismay about Crash's ignorance in an earlier post. Just what do the desis need to do to get Hollywood's attention? Do we need to populate those seedy LA areas with desi inner-city kids? Or move gay Indian goat-herders to northwestern Iowa?

I threatened the Academy that if it gave Crash an Oscar, desis would strike back. Lo and behold, not only did it get the best film, it apparently was the biggest upset in Oscar history.

Hollywood directors, please don't hesitate to poke fun at Indians. Doctors will still treat you, your computers won't crash, and motels will still accept you. Try us out. We don't bite. (Except the proud Punjabis and the Sikhs, those guys who you've stereotyped as bad guys.)

Indians can ignore Hollywood. I mean, we ignore Vijay Amritraj anyways, the biggest garbage producers in the US. But the US-desi film scene isn't any good. Enough of American Chai, ABCD Chai, Green Visa with Chai and other nonsense.

Oh well, ignore the rant. Crash was good and it deserved the Oscar. Next, the Razzies. My vote for worst film: Fantastic Four.

The smell of freedom

2006-03-03T18:13:00.000-08:00

On May 21, two new countries may emerge: Serbia and Montenegro. We currently know them as Serbia-Montenegro, a combined relic of Yugoslavia's official vanquishment in 2001.

A referendum in Montenegro will give Montenegrins two options: to remain with Serbia or to break away and go on its own. Montenegrins have to answer "yes" or "no" to whether they want full international legal recognition as an independent nation. Polls show around 40% leaning toward independence, around 30% against it.

The success of this referendum differs between organizations. If 55% of Montenegrins say yes to independence. EU will recognize Montenegro as a sovereign nation. If it falls short, EU will still consider Montenegro a part of Serbia. The U.S. has no rules: they view an independent Montenegro as a fresh chance to establish a Balkan presence, which they lack.

For Montenegro, a poor state with under 750,000 people, EU's non-recognition would be economically devastating. They would be better off merged with Serbia, which is approaching EU integration slowly with help from countries like Germany and Sweden.

Montenegrins are miffed at EU's 55% requirement -- they want the "yes" for independence vote to be 41%. A number of factors can be reasoned for that: Montenegro are concerned that minorities could swing the vote, among others.

Though friendly, they have not much to gain with Serbia, a trainwreck of a country itself. In four years together under one roof, they havent developed much. More Montenegrins believe they'd do better without Serb help.

Anticipating the referendum to be a success, businessmen are said to be scouring Podgorica (pronounced: Pod-go-ree-tza), Montenegro's capital, for business opportunities. Euro is Montenegro's official currency, a big business advantage.

Do the Serbs benefit from Montenegro's independence? No. Serbia and Montenegro have deep historic ties and Montenegro's separation could landlock Serbia, affecting them economically. But the Serbs will retain the important cities of Belgrade and the big cities of Novi Sad (which Montenegro would die to have) and Pristina (atleast for now).

Pristina has caught my imagination in the past. Sitting at London's Heathrow airport twice -- in 1998 & 2000 -- I saw Pristina flights go *packed*. Why would herds of folks head to a place I've barely heard about?

Happens so that Pristina is Kosovo's capital, another state seeking independence from Serbia. The Kosovo-Serbia melee has led to much of Serbia's internal turmoil. Kosovo is currently under UN administration, but the Serbs want it back.

To keep this piece short and sweet, I'll write about Kosovo and their ethnic Albanians later. That's a whole story in itself. It stretches way before genocide and war-crime accusations were levelled at the Serbs, yep, including Slobodan Milosevic.

The Serbs want Montenegro too, but they may fail this time. Montenegrins seem to cherish the thought of full over partial independence. So on May 21, be ready to update your geography books.

Have an earthquake, will travel

2006-02-28T23:38:00.000-08:00

Experiencing an earthquake on entering a country must not be easy. My friend Melanie felt a tremor measuring 5.2 on the Richter Scale on entering Honduras, after hearing an ear load about soccer.

Comes with the territory, she says. Countries like Taiwan and Japan can't go a day without boogeying 21 times a day.

That's just the start of Melanie Mel's adventures. For years she's talked about doing something for the underprivileged. Her chance has come -- to do a combo-job with Accenture and CARE -- which is why she was in Honduras.

She's circling the globe over 3-4 months to combat poverty and empower women. Read her blog (workingwithcare.blogspot.com) to keep up with her adventures.

A soccer frenzy has gripped Honduras as the World Cup approaches, she observes. (For the record, my team to win it all is The Netherlands.)

Mel's a wild child -- mellow at first glance, but tempo ratcheting up at any time called party time -- but this effort is where her heart really is.

To ensure she's in touch with the wild side, I've asked her to hit Latin bars and challenge tequila swigging amigos to a pool match occassionally.

Many-a-women friend have hung up their 'wild child' boots after meeting their respective beaux. I'm not going to lose any more friends to that!!

Deepa Mehta's Water @ San Fran Film Fest

2006-02-25T14:23:00.000-08:00

For those in the Bay Area, there's a screening of Deepa Mehta's Water on March 19 @ Castro Theater at 6:00PM (Sunday).

It's part of the SFIAAFF (San Francisco International Asian American Film Festival, whoosh!). Tickets still seem to be there, grab them before they run out.

The movie is the final of the brilliant Fire, Earth and Water trilogy. Unconfirmed reports say Mehta might be there herself to answer questions.

Some other movies I might catch @ the festival: Parineeta, Sobhraj, View from a Grain of Sand and Gaijin 2. Any recommendations appreciated!

Grumpy martial artists and Kha-Kra-Do

2006-02-21T10:09:00.000-08:00

I'm grumpy in the mornings. Erin avoids me, and the chatty barista at my neighborhood coffee shop tries to cheer me up by unloading the deliciously invective cultural insult: "I love Indian Chai Tea."

The day usually kickstarts at work after reading Sepia Mutiny and Bullshido, a martial arts bulls*** monitor. Establish a "McDojo," (or martial arts McSchool), overcharge students and dish out black belts to anyone who can kick. You'll get on Bullshido too.

There's "Grand Celestial Do," which offers martial arts defense against 'aliens' (say, folks like Tom Cruise?). There's also desi bullshido -- a Bombay school offers an online "Ph.D in Martial Science." Write some BS, pay some Rs. 15,000, and tada, you're a Ph.D. in Martial Arts. Napolen Dynamite's Rex-Kwon-Do is Bull-Shi-Do too.

A loony ninja named "Ashida Kim" offers $10,000 to beat him in a no-holds-barred fight. He first wants a $25,000 collateral and a 1st class ticket. There's a reason he keeps himself masked.

Slightly more authentic was "Count Dante," who claimed to be of Spanish royalty, perhaps ashamed of being from Kentucky. He had nothing better to do than challenge Muhammad Ali by "personally going to his house in Chicago's south side," and challenging the world wrestling and judo champions to bouts.

During the "Dojo Wars"of the 60s/70s, Starsky & Hutch-types whacked the pulp out of each other, as if to say "you stole my monkey windpipe flip move!" Somewhat like Bruce Lee meets Sesame Street.

But genuine martial artists *still* threaten to knock the wind out of each other.

Steaming up heat is an interesting war between WTF and ITF, two substyles of Tae Kwon Do (or TKD), a fine Korean kick-based martial art. Rival practitioners claim their styles are better in the ring. They talk, never put their mouth where the money is.

This conflict is political bullshido, between egotistical folks and dysfunctional mismanagement, a friend J said.

The IOC recognizes WTF as the official Olympic TKD style, not ITF. ITF says its sparring style is more practical than WTF, which focuses on the impractical Olympic Style sparring. It's a pointless fight -- both styles looked similar during observation, only the terminology differed.

The conflict could have led to TKD being removed as a 2008 Beijing Olympic sport. WTF's HQ in Korea, Kukkiwon, wants to bring WTF/ITF under one roof, but hasn't done enough, J added.

The US Olympic Committee threw mismanagement and fund misappropriation accusations at US TKD Union (USTU), which selects the Olympic Taekwondokas. Since then, USTU dismantled and USOC took the task of restructuring it in its own hands.

In the WTF/ITF bullshido, other TKD styles like ATA and ITA benefitted by developing their systems and going about their own business. All of TKD generally originated from one person, though technical and theoretical differences broke it up as time went along.

Not having done TKD, I don't know any better than what my friend says. But like in Karate, only some bad apples give TKD a bad rep. Violence defeats the purpose of learning martial arts, so why those odd TKD/Karate crazies can't control themselves is beyond me. They have to stop watching the triple runs of Bruce Lee flicks.

Despite Karate, I can't control my grumpiness, especially in the mornings. My style of preference is Kha-Kra-Do, a martial art that doesn't preach patience. Nor does it teach people how to read The Onion at 7:00 in the morning.

A roast to V-Day

2006-02-16T09:56:00.000-08:00

Compared to your average American, being a cheap stingy SOB on V-Day this year rekindled my pride about everything Gujju.

(For readers unfamiliar: Gujjus are (Asian) Indian folks known to leave dirty sheets in US motels to save money. For women unfamiliar: V-Day is nothing but psychobabble.)

So she called @ 7:15AM Pacific on Feb 14, accusing me of purposely avoiding her call last night (9PM PT/12AM ET, V-Day already started for her).

"I will never talk to you again and I will ogle at other guys from now on," she shouted before slamming the phone. Oh well, whatever makes her happy.

I sighed at my misfortune. Perhaps work would be the place to snap away from the mindfunk.

Riding the bus, I saw two kids from the Bad Boy Bail Bonds slug it out outside a taco stand at 9AM. More sigh. I finally saw a smile -- from a lady (let's call her Toto) who entered the bus on that street. She noticed an acquaintance sitting behind me (let's call her Lulu).

"Hi, it's been a long time" Toto told Lulu. "How are you?"

"I'm great. My 1-year old granddaughter called me and said 'Happy Valentine's Day, Nana'." Lulu said.

Alrighty, a full-talking 1-year old robot kid. What would follow?

"Oh that's so nice. All of my kids wished me yesterday night. I am so proud of them," Toto said. "They are in college now. Did any of your kids end up in college?" Toto asked Lulu, with a hint of bitchiness. Lulu couldn't take it.

"Yeah, my first daughter went to college in Georgia and she's studying XX YY there. My son is still messed up but he's now living on his own. I don't want them in my home," Lulu answered humbly, not yet accepting defeat. "Are your college kids still living with you?" Lulu testily asked Toto.

"The kids are still with me. But hopefully they will earn enough to live on their own once they finish university," Toto replied. "There's no problem having them at home," she lashed out at Lulu, as if teaching her a life lesson.

It went on and the heat flowed, but no fist fight broke out. This amazing fight was fought between civil adults behaving like long lost friends. How women get bitchy and control their temper at the same time just beats me.

At work, the drama was grammatic, not dramatic. I didn't want the stupid gimmicky day to read like a proper noun in *my* stories, so I lowercased the "D" in "Day." I got busted by my editor, who gave me the whole etymology of how Valentine's Day came from the great St. Valentine.

Ok, so work wasn't the place either. Home is where I found the answer -- Valentine's Day is actually about Gujjus being proud of their motherloadin' love for money.

I was stunned by a CNN report that said US spends $14 billion on Valentine's Day gifts. Showing some Gujju swagger, I splurged on two books, Malgudi Days ($11) and finally, Chasing the Monk's Shadow by Mishi Saran ($18).

Right then, I felt a surge of pride about being a Gujju, born hardwired with money-hoarding skills. As the clock passed 12:00AM to reach Feb. 15, thankfully, I recovered from the "it's either the motel business or bust" hangover.

The uncensored Superbowl

2006-02-08T08:46:00.000-08:00

Raucous crowds, bar fights and Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction," made the Superbowl two years ago the most memorable. Went with buddy LL, and hooked up with two women, CC and DD, in SF's Marina Sports Bar.

So boring was the first half of New England Patriots vs Carolina Panthers, CC and I ended up bar-spotting for most of it, analyzing people's appearances. CC did a makeover of a punk gal a few tables away and decided she was the wife I was looking for.

Even trash talking didn't draw LL's passion. She stood grim next to us, cussing at guys who admired her long leather boots. DD didn't care much about football, she was messing around with any guy in her path.

Finally, a touchdown for NE came toward the end of halftime, and more growls than cheers came from bar crowd. I pumped my fist, so happy like I'd seen clam chowder after years.

That's when the fun started. The crowd went wild and I got a middle finger from a Carolina fan when the team returned a touchdown in no time, tying the score. The ruckus in the bar went a notch up when NE struck back with a touchdown a few seconds later, leading it 14-7.

Everyone stood up, slogans for each team getting louder and louder. With a few seconds left to half-time, Carolina struck back with a field goal to close the half at 14-10. The game turned into an exciting shoot-out.

I looked at CC and sat down discouraged, like other NE fans, with hopes of an easy NE victory.

Took a swig of Sam Adam's and shouted "Carolina sucks."

"You need halftime too," CC said. She just saved me from a bar fight with any random Carolina fan.

Time passed, and then DD asked "Why are Superbowl champs called World Champions? Don't other countries play?" Good question.

"Only people in the U.S. love to watch violent sports like the WW...." Den, popped her eyes looking at the TV, stopped me in the tracks.

"Did you see that?" she asked, her eyes stunned, still looking at the TV. The crowd gasped in delight.

I missed Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction." Darn. Just missed the most publicized blooper in Superbowl history. They didn't even show replays of it.

The commentators were hesitant to use the word "boobs" or "breasts," saying someone's "bodily parts" were exposed. I didn't understand what may have happened that was so outrageous -- perhaps some background dancer's pants fell off?

The action-packed halftime was followed with a dull 3rd quarter. LLgot back into her anguish, CC's admiration for the punk gal as my wife vanished. She took upon making over a "bad-ass gal" who'd be my great "bad-ass wife."

"Not a life with her," I told CC, "please give me back the punk gal."

One portion of the crowd started shouting when one TV broke down. That just started the wildest 4th quarter I've ever seen. New England scored a touchdown to take a 21-10 lead, Carolina struck back twice to lead 22-21. My worries started. If NE lost, I'd face a tough life.

I envisioned ESPN analysts grinning as they said "NE lost, haa haa, they sucked." Thankfully, Tom Brady threw a touchdown to gain the lead back, 29-22, which was more relief than something to be thrilled about.

By now barfolk knew I was the New England heckler, so I got grunts, fingers and filthy looks when Carolina tied the score at 29-29 with just seconds left. Luckily the idiot Carolina kicker kicked the ball out of bounds, giving enough for New England to score a field goal as time expired. NE won the Superbowl, what relief.

No fist fights followed. NE fans, bad sports some are, shouted stuff like "Carolina should recruit Janet Jackson to be a winner," which got no response. San Francisco isn't much a sports city like Boston. The game was over, life goes on. But thank goodness, NE won a phenomenal game that see-sawed back and forth.

We'd been in the bar for 7-1/2 hours. Before the Superbowl, LL and DD never met, but two years down the line, they are great friends. CC is somewhere in the Bay Area, she lost touch after meeting her dream guy. We all may have dispersed, but four of us will never forget that day.

Iran, Iran whatcha gonna do

2006-02-05T01:44:00.000-08:00

Iran's rediscovered nuke ambitions has the U.S. thinking about military action. No doubt, the U.S. has a war plan against Iran ready, but it considers North Korea a better target at the moment.

Iran president's chatter could have been considered empty threats like the ones issued by Fidel Castro and Hugo Chavez occassionally. But Iranian president's hint of developing nukes with its enriched uranium nukes and halting IAEA access to nuclear sites shook up the world.

Working its diplomatic channels, the U.S. today supported an IAEA vote to report Iran's uranium enrichment to the UN Security Council. Russia, China, and India too supported reporting Iran's violation of the nuclear non-proliferation treaty (NPT) to the UN.

Syria, Venezuela and Cuba voted against reporting Iran to the UN -- they perhaps thought brave Iran was toying with the idea of challenging America. Five abstained.

Iran could face sanctions if the UN finds the allegations legit. U.S. wants an immediate vote, but Russia and China have asked for more time, so the vote might happen in March.

With a UN vote delay, Russia hopes to complete a deal that moves Iran's nuclear enrichment to its soil. Doing that would convince the world Iran has no nuke ambitions, Russia says. The deal was offered a while ago

Russia says it wants Iranians to get nuclear energy while keeping the world free of nukes. What bulls***. In Iran, Russia gets a good ally to counter growing U.S. influence in the Middle East, which boasts as allies Israel, Iraq and Afghanistan (assuming the US gains grounds in the latter two countries over time.)

Unless the crazy Iranian president keeps his gob shut, gear up for an upcoming UN vote that imposes economic sanctions on Iran.

I don't call every leader extremist -- but Iran president's threatening comments qualify him as one. His suggestions to wipe out Israel and to hold a conference to determine whether the Holocaust really happened are just plain ridiculous.

The sanction will directly hit the local populace. Iran's got oil, so it has some money, but not as much as Saudi Arabia or India to be self-supportive. Iran's just isolating itself from the world and will pay a price for that.

I'm not a big Bush fan either, but he's making the right move here by putting pressure on Iran. So is Putin, whose antics I am a big fan of. Like how he stole the Superbowl ring from New England Patriots owner Robert Kraft a few years ago. The guy is a nutcase.

Cutting the political process from the equation -- do we, as individuals, need to worry about it? As an ordinary citizen, every nuke worries me. But Europe and U.S. are united on this, putting pressure on the extremist Iranian leader to stop him from developing a nuke.

Sweet revenge

2006-02-04T02:24:00.001-08:00

My buddy M usually makes it known loud and clear when she's upset. During a Thai dinner yesterday I may have pissed her off, though never got a clue about it.

So as an act of gratitude (yeah right!), she sent me this hilarious clip, worth checking out:
http://www.grapheine.com/bombaytv/play_uk.php?id=667660
[Content Rated: R, incl. offensive text.]

It's happened between us before. This fiery Marwari lady has had me in splits over sharing taxi costs, getting a lift in a police car, going dutch on dinner bills (The amount we go out, I can't afford buy her dinner everytime. We're both broke.) And much, much more.

We got into an animated Superbowl spat on the dinner table and she may have taken the trash talk to heart. Never got a hint from her or R opposite me, who reads M's mind pretty well. It's hard to identify when she'd like to be treated like a lady, or like the buddy who loves to watch football.

But hey, the core is we get along so well, the rest doesn't matter. Shit (or pee, if M prefers) happens, just deal with it.