Tuesday, January 24

Post A Mug!

Among the very few things that distinguish us apart from other beings on this earth is that we have our favorite mugs! That's right, we have this special need or belonging to that one piece of clay, ceramic or metal cup/ mug that greets us every morning and during tea and says goodnight to us every night. And since this is the International Post A Mug Week, I'm starting of by posting the image of my favorite mug.
[-] This is meant to be a tag, but I wont tag anyone. If you like the idea, and are bored of those 8 things, 10 things, 7 things and 4 things tag, then just do this one simple, 1 minute tag and make yourself and everyone else happy. And you're right folks, you've never seen this before, I bet.
[-] So pass the word friends, one simple post, one image of your favorite mug, one minute.
([-] Info's;
-Of course, it is widely documented that animals have their favorite watering holes :p,
-I got this mug as a free gift when you buy the Colgate Tooth Paste, I think the offer is localized to Malaysia, got this from Giant.
-My all time favorite mug is back at my hometown, it has Fred Flinstone on it :p)

Today, insight


Damn, I'm tagged, again!

Fauzan (click the title to his page) tagged me! And here's the shoutout.

***The 8 Things Tag***

The rules of the game are:
1. The tagged victim has to come up with 8 different points of their perfect lover.
2. Need to mention the sex of the target.
3. Tag 8 victims to join this game & leave a comment on their comments saying they’ve been tagged.
4. If tagged the 2nd time, there’s no need to post again.

Sex Target : Female. (animals/ aliens and AI might apply if you're a time traveller, or God)

I look at my superbabe to be:

(1) Someone who wont try to change me, my hair, my clothing and my name.
(2) Brave (but not girl power brave- just intelligent brave)
(3) Independant (able to be a motivator and also a leader)
(4) Creative-Eccentric (the top most quality)
(5) Tamil (atleast knows how to write/ speak Tamil)
(6) Occasionaly when I call, should say 'luv, I'm abit sleepy, can I call u back in an hour (in a
very , loving, soft, supercute tone'. Heck, all the sentences should be like that.
(7) Loves soccer...I might give in if she likes tennis/ badminton or gymnastics.
(8) Loves physics and Science Fiction

[*] Dont want to tag anyone, but please feel free to tag yourselves. Thank you Fauzan for the tag, i've enjoyed it.

Thursday, January 19

A House for Mr. Ghost; Part 6: Remains of the day

Chapter 1

There are some periods in life that we try hard to forget. It’s a huge task to erase a lengthy expanse of time when our memory commands so much of our daily existence. I enrolled to the university some years back, about 6 years ago. It’s the natural next step in many young lives around the world. There’s so much hope and eagerness in everyone’s imagination at that time, to experience a new world and to build towards the future. The university is an institution that foreruns everything else in creating an anticipated bright human future. So much for theory, now the reality, which sadly is not that cool.

What made me rethink of these hidden days, of lost glories you ask? I was walking the corridors of the concrete alleys that run around the faculty, something that I’ve been doing everyday, hoping in vain to discover something remotely different. Not the occasional crack in the wall or stray bug waiting for its prey, something truly monumental. I need it so much at this juncture, since this is my last semester here and I can’t figure out what I’ll be doing next. In a distant I spied a huge creature, all white, that brought back a surge of memories. In the next hours everything just bounced back into my head, of the early days. I traced the path and came near the enigmatic creature, as you can see in the picture. The elephant bones were one of my earliest collisions with destiny in my campus life. Events that will remain treasured forever in me even if it’s not as exciting as other campus stories or the fact that I try to forget it.

Being an Indian waiting for a place in university in this country is nerve wrecking. There’s this sick quota system that effectively eliminates more than 50% of the Indians out of the run for the limited seats. And even the successful students will not in most cases get courses they want. I don’t want to elaborate further, by now probably a lot of people would have known of the predicaments of the minorities in this country. Not forgetting also the ‘struggles’ inside the community itself to excel once enrolled. We have this sadist tradition that’s been going on for ages now, something called ragging. The first year students are terrorized out of their souls by seniors in the name of bonding or brotherhood or some shit. And I knew all this before the fateful days, learned the horror stories for others. I choose this particular university knowing well that it has the least Indian enrollment among all public uni’s. Figuring the crude math, less Indians means less trouble, so that I can do what I came for and achieve my dreams. So wrong was I, very very wrong.

In the first few weeks at campus I found out that my uni had some of the worst ragging cases in the country. I obliged the seniors, did all they wanted me to do, get trashed in the process and that traumatized me for months. I walked the graveyard, slept in the closet, had hot water poured on me while sleeping, you name it. I devised ways to escape them to no avail, so I started to irritate them, nag them that they finally did not want to see my face anymore. But some smart ass senior had this one great idea, to do that one last thing that would in their perspective ‘kill’ us. So there we were, the three of us roommates led to the biology faculty an hour after midnight. It was dark, all the lights turned off, I remembered the place well, and it was the stuffed animal museum. They left us there, took away the torch and simply left us to suffer. It scared the hell out of us; we sat at one corner trying to figure out how to escape from this. Shallow moonlight through the many windows made crude shadows of the animals. The birds and monkeys leapt to life on walls around the place. But at the end of the room was this huge white pile of some-animal too huge to even belong there. Curiosity took over; we walked, still close to each other tracing the corrugated light on the floor towards it, some kind of force pulling us to it. I dare say that if I was alone I would have simply ran away shouting. We reached it and to our surprise it was an elephant fossil. Its head reached to the ceiling and it just stood there majestically, unmoving, not afraid of anything. Was it life changing? Maybe, for the moment it was simply amazing. I returned almost weekly for months after that to look at it and simply admire it. It was something special, the whole concept of how something so huge is tamed and reduced to bones but yet still elegant and powerful.

Struggling through the Indian orientation period was hell, they made us skip classes and we lost precious weeks of introduction to the course. They always had these special stories of how elite they are, skipping classes yet being the most popular or scoring well in the studies. Nothing mattered to me, all I want to do is to study, do what I want to do. The many phone calls to home when my mother reminded me (and she still does) to study well, to think of the future. By the time the first semester passed, it was not good news at all, both for me socially nor my results. I was average at best in most subjects and I could not cope well in mathematics. That’s really not good if you’re a physics student. I lost confidences fast; mainly because of the sense I lost a lot of early experience. The other reason would be that I was the only Indian student in the whole course. History was unkind either; there were no Indian seniors in the course for years. I knew then I won’t get any coaching or advice, and everything seems to be lost. I managed to pull through somehow for the remaining semesters. I started to hate the other Indian students, mostly seniors, knowing well that they just wasted the golden opportunity given to them to earn a degree, something that a good part of the community did not have. We grouped according to the state we came from and that was xenophobia at best. Even though we studied together, there was this hidden war among us, clan wars, racial wars, hate of the authority. This was definitely not the most conducive environment to plan your future.

Chapter 2

I did not actually apply for a physics course. At the time when I finished high school computer studies was the entire fad, so I filled all the options with computer related courses. Fate has it, I landed this course in pure physics, the field that I loved for years and choose to ignore while applying. Maybe it’s the sign for the future. Being the only Indian also means extra attention. I had no chance of skipping class, for the obvious reasons. I was the marker for anything and everything. If I do miss the occasional class, they would worry for real. It did help me in some parts of the study. I found very good friends there of different races; some of them are still with me doing graduate studies. And Dev, currently my house owner, was my course mate. There is a real sense of relationship that you form here that’s missing or different from the ones you form while in school. The maturity of people and also the way of life, maybe because everyone dared to do anything and dared to be brave.

I brought my bike in the first semester itself, simply because the food in campus sucked big time and I had to get some Indian food. That’s something I won’t let go forever. And having a bike also means that I had a license to ride, anywhere. We raced the roads, strayed around the big city, went for supper(s) and yes, gave lifts to the girls. Everyone will have those moments, in my case very little moments. Those were the times before I turned myself into GP, I was just another dude enjoying my freedom away from home. Discovering beers and hangovers, girl friend(s) and heartbreaks, fights and broken bones, everything was in the game. We lived the game. From pure madness of tying curtains around our necks and becoming Superman on motorbikes at midnight to being model sophomores to the new students. We tried to stop the ragging culture, the small group of us but we failed, in the end we were isolated. So I was the bad senior, the dead man walking who did not want to continue the age old tradition. That’s a small sample of my campus life.

Choosing the correct subjects were tough, the CGPA system is notorious because one small mistake will leave a lasting mark when you graduate. It did not help being able to repeat subjects that we fail because simply sometimes the same subject wont exist the next semester. Learning the whole course in a language totally unsuitable for science is a bad experience. All the reference books are in English while the actually course is taught in the national language. Worst still are hyped up lecturers who have this huge faction among themselves. There are times when elective subjects from another department or faculty can simply kill your semester. Out of interest I registered for two subjects from the geology department. The exams were easy fill in the blank questions, but the results were not. Turned out that the lecturers there hated undergraduates from other faculties and that was not the first time it happened to me.

Lecturers tend to have general opinions of everything. Dicing with danger, in my final semester, I enrolled for elective subjects from the material science department. I took basic subjects such as paper technology, recycling and materials management just to get through easy. In the first day of class for one subject, we had this normal introduction session. Coming to me, again the only Indian in the class, the professor pointed to me and said this exact words "You, I now about you, you must be a vegetarian, am I right?" So that was the most unique first words that I’ve heard in a quarter century being alive, and you know what. I was wearing a dark green shirt. So I turned into a pseudo-vegetarian, thought it must be another of those signs. Vegetarian means good boy, good boy means good marks. Everyone respected me, the guys back at the hostel never knew and amazingly vegetarianism is social standard. And I had to avoid eating at the cafeteria for the rest of year. I'm a carnivore basically, but I’ve build this reputation that I don’t want to destroy.

The slow destruction of my final results happened that final year. As a third year student, we had this big task of conducting a research project and producing a thesis, not to mention to clear remaining credit units. And in the social scenes, third year Indian students have to organize a cultural night. I had this one chance of reconciling with the rest of the Indians in my year or loosing it forever. I chose the latter. I ignored them and focused in my research. After months of struggle I came out with this A grade thesis, an excellent piece of astrophysics and manage to salvage my grades. But the dreaded thing happened when my final results came out, most of my elective subjects bombed. It was too late, not wanting to continue another year I just stuck with the results. It was not that important anyway, the future is what we make of it. This is simply a stepping stone towards another part of my life.

Finishing the course was a struggle, especially if you’re not ready. There’s this whole culture shock thing, and even if you managed to get out of yours, the bubbles of conflict around you will swallow you. There is no solitary existence in the campus years and afterward. The end of the first part of the young youthful life also means that we need to source for a job. I wanted badly to do my graduate studies, but it’s a dog eat dog world out there. Everyone wants to work first, get some money and then ponder the next step. Mostly will end up doing their MBA which honestly is not an intellectual choice at all, it simply has no merit other than a small pay raise later. Not wanting to be stuck in the rat race of office jobs, I sent in my applications for a research stint in astrophysics. There is a story to this also, at the time of my enrollment; my university was famous for amazingly unique reasons. They created the famous ‘cili-bangi’ a type of chili plant resilient to diseases and to another far extreme, we had a famous lady professor in the physics department who because the UN space science director. There were plans for the nation’s first micro-satellite even before I enrolled. You will always have this feeling when you read the papers of some stuff so huge that you’re very sure wont be a part of. I had that moment, and in the years to come I actually managed to be a part of the satellite dream. Science gave me this wonderful chance to explore the world, the inner-self and also everyone else. And here I am.

Chapter 3

What happens to the elephant bones now? I think it did not matter anymore to them, they moved it out of the museum to the corridor where I found it. It shows that even the great can be humbled and if everything does have its opposite, so the humble me will strive great. Maybe I’ll never know what the future really wanted me to do. I choose this one path and here I am.

After the degree in physics, I had a few job offers, mostly unsuccessful. Can you believe that there was a chance then, a good chance, that I would have been a physics teacher now? I could not comprehend the implications then; maybe I would have been happy with an average life. Teaching is a huge responsibility, but it limits the self to a monotonous life. I did not go to that interview; I came back to where it all started, minus the old faces of course. Not all of them, but mostly the ones I never cared for, since now it’s a new beginning. I don’t know if after suffering so much we can make another mistake, knowing well it’ll be hard to correct. The masters’ course was a dream, but yet again it did not go well. I'm still here, in my 7th and final semester, staring blank into the future. I awe at the people who have their whole future lined up so clearly, those who can plan and execute their every move so majestically that each step seems godly, those creatures who never knew hardship. And also, I respect the ones who after scaling momentous hurdles managed to build a great life.

There are reasons why we are unique, why our awareness are different and why we do things differently. It’s the way we can tread the widest amount of space at any one time, exploring diversity. There are some moments that I feel lucky not to have followed other paths that would not have let me meet these amazing people on the net, in life and the passions that I discovered on the way. But then again, any path would have built towards that one goal in the future, a goal that we would not know till the end.

So where did this Ghost Particle come from? One part of your guess is true; it does have something to do with my field of interest. Particles of unknown nature that might exist, that might bend the laws of physics. As a whole, it’s a hidden ‘creature’ so to follow its nature I slowly morphed into a solitary being. The other idea is to live a modern color less life, a western freedom if you want to explain it. The reasons are simple, I did not want to identify with my community that wasted their years singing and dancing but never thought once of their studies. They never understood the real meaning of culture. Maybe it’s a small bunch of renegades, but they continue to kill dreams. There are salvations nowadays, there are more students who spend times in the library studying and achieving their dreams. It’s a complex matter that I find hard to understand let alone explain. I’ve seen people waste their lives for reasons so rubbish, and along the way I myself sank into the same patterns. There are signs that made me aware of the mistakes I made but I had not the will to change. So Ghost Particle is an existence to change it all. Impossible as it seems, the future if never late to be influenced and changed.

The moral of the story? The grass is always green on the other side; there will always be the best of something somewhere else. And then there’s the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. You might think the best is elsewhere, but the moment you charge to seek it, it breaks down. Information and reality are two sides of the same coin. That’s my principle. Go out to create something new, an amazing reality no one ever dreamed of and then live in it, because it’s the path to the great future.


[-] So ends another piece of history in the life of Mr. Ghost, who believes the future in its entire splendor still is a mystery and the past we can very well be selective to remember. But we’re humans in the end, so we can never run from it. The question is, will I ever become a true scientist and explorer of the unknowns and inspire a generation of others.
[-] Sorry that I have to put you guys through a long post, I could have split it and post for weeks each small part, but you wont get the whole idea then. Thanx for reading.

Monday, January 16


This could be only the second time a Steven Spielberg movie is banned in Malaysia, the first being Schindlers List, and now Munich. Wanting to watch it badly, I did the best possible thing a fan can do, yes, I bought the bootleg version of it, costing around 2 USD. A fairly fine copy except for the dialogues that I can’t understand from time to time though it doesn’t matter because the strength of the movie is in the visuals rather than the reasoning.
(Update; Actually it seems the distribution company havent applied for a screening licensce yet, they might try in March, but they said the hopes are slim. I did'nt want to spoil a good opener)

The idea of the movie revolves around the Munich Olympic terrorist tragedy in which Palestinian terrorist turned hostage takers seriously botched up their mission by first having bad logistics and second by executing their mission in the wrong country. The rest of the movie is a jumbled up mix of Mossad agents trying to exterminate each of the planners of the hostage situation and terrorist leaders who due to the vague logics of the cold war and the oil hungry world, literally, live a happy good life in France and the rest of Europe who was sympathetic towards the Palestinian cause.

Let's look at a few things before you attempt this movie or try to understand the issue further. First of all, dead people can’t talk, so the history in the movie is just a reconstruction of the events that presumably happened after the Munich incident. And by killing the perpetrators and the rest of their cadres, the Israel agents made sure the hopes for a symbolic showing to the world of the plight of the Palestinians are somewhat stumped. But then again, caution number two, the Munich tragedy is not the only black event that happened during those troubled time. The Black September movement, formed by non-other than the late Yasser Arafat himself, in the disguise of liberating the Palestinian people, conducted a series of terrorist attacks all over the world. Issue number three, while all this was happening, hundreds of thousands of innocent people lay dead in the Middle East for a war which none of us can understand. So don’t try, this is simply a movie, and what’s happening in the real world today, and what happened decades ago are justified only by the greed of men for dirt and yes, their minute of fame on international news channels.

To the movie now. Eric Bana plays a mossad agents (and non-agent) in the movie who is also a very good cook. You’ll understand his part if you watch the movie, and he lived up to his reputation by giving a superb perfomance, unless of course you’re a life long fan of the Hulk, then this movie is nothing. All the other actors played commendable roles too. Nothing much to say of a Spielberg movie, the polished direction, the superb screen play and the memorable soundtrack compliments a story well written. And if you last till the end of the movie, and I’m sure you will, the familiar skyline of New York where the movie ends is complete with the Twin Towers.

By the end of the movie, I still can’t understand the kind of peace message SS was trying to convey. As mentioned before, the movie is a near technically perfect rendition of a story that in my humble opinion is not worth making into a movie at all. And yes, a book would have done a world of justice eliminating some unnecessary scenes. I don’t know how far the scenes of Bana having sex with his pregnant wife are relevant to the movie. Or the scenes of him having sex with his wife intertwined with the flashback of the ambush of the terrorists at the airport are logic.

In the end, you don’t understand whose war it is, or for whom the fight is. Two factions fighting for dirt in a country where no economic future lies or two ideologies doing calculative termination of each other which in all its worth is nothing more than having their own colored flag or national anthem, and ignoring the fact that half of their citizens are dead.

That’s the end of the review of the movie, which if you ask me the verdict will be, get a Jurassic Park DVD and enjoy every moment if it. The creative license that SS have expired some movies ago, maybe since his modern day masterpieces of the Schiendlers List, the groundbreaking Jurassic Park and also the excellent SF noir Minority Report and AI.

The jury is out on whether sentiments for Israel or the hate for gays will finally determine the outcome of this year’s Oscars, but I’m rooting for George Clooney and his two movies to get the honors. Syrianna is a stunning movie.

And finally, finally, this entire post are of my own opinions, the facts are true as found on the net and the book that I mention bellow. Don’t let me influence your decision on watching the movie or not, but I think it’s strictly is for fans and not ever if you want to learn the history of the Middle East crisis. Get a good history text book to dissect the histories of the conflict. And remember again, Dead people can’t talk, they just don’t. The best explanation for the whole quagmire I think comes from the movie Syrianna; ‘The Middle East must remain in conflict for the rest of the world to survive’. Its all about oil and nothing else.

Take 2

The depth of the information that I know of the Middle East crisis especially the Black September movement and the Israel – Palestine conflict comes from the well researched book by David Yallop: To The Ends of The Earth; The Hunt For The Jackal. The books main story is of the illusive Ilich Ramirez Sanchez or Carlos the Jackal. Supposedly fighting for the dispossessed Palestinian refugees causes, Carlos led the terrorist cells of Black September in many attacks throughout Europe, which incidentally is featured in the movie Munich, is a subtle way. The book is a must for anyone who wants to understand the deep ideological war that took place during those troubled years and to some scale still is happening in the Middle East.

Saturday, January 14

Happy Ponggal

I wish everyone a Happy Ponggal and a memorable Tamilar Thirunal celebration. May this day bring forth a new beginning and hope to everyone.

Monday, January 9

A House for Mr.Ghost; Part 5: Mind Under Siege

Often I have written of the failure to describe the universe in its full objectivity and beauty. The mind often morphs and vibrates into many different states of explanation for each observation. The question is, as observers what is our task, or responsibility, in the context of describing the universe.

Does the universe want us to be correct all the time? If the answer is yes then this implies that the next observer can move on to the next task in line, so not to retrace the worked task. But what if we’re more subjective? Being critical to a point where we change some facts to suit the situation or external pressure. The logic is to leave certain openings so that the next observer can dissect the matter further. But in some cases, the next observer will by chance deviate further from the truth, since information from the first person who worked on the task would invade his mind. He would try hard not to follow the steps of the person and would employ some arcane methods that would produce the wrong output.

The rational of the above thoughts for a person with his mind under siege is that the particular person forces himself to ignore certain truths and facts simply to be original. He invades his thoughts and changes its natural methods so to keep away from external machineries that try to change his mind to comply with a singular method. Provided that the mind construes the universe independently, a mind under siege means that the natural process would ultimately be useless and the supposed correct workings deviated long before, hence the final explanation is wrong in any circumstances. (This also implies that a single path, lets call it the ‘true’ path is already laid out there just for us observers to find, but were still ignorant of it).

And since we have moved away from the correct path, because obviously the second observer situations have repeated a thousand times before, we would never find out the truth. I believe we observers call this ‘creativity’, the method of finding ones own way of describing the grand design. So is creativity simply a mistaken path that have formed long ago when the first observers decided that what they saw was too magical to be true so they carved their own path that would in an individual mind register as probable. Or, does this ‘creativity’ of the mind under siege also mirrors the opinion that we’re not supposed to know the truth?

And if the first observer and second observer theories are correct, then we have ourselves unknowingly forced the brain/ mind to evolve, thus bringing in the concept of God to be a primer and finally the solution in situations when the task is too hard to explain. The God being an entity one level ahead of us all the time so that we can easily predict that the task or observation is supposed to be there just because it is there and it should be in sync with the rest of the universal truths because it’s created by a super-being. (And also so that we don’t get lost in our own mind, the God being will always stand at dead ends to appease us).

Culture being a totally artificial method that arises when the observers wanted uniqueness in them, because when they saw the colors and sounds of the universe they were overwhelmed being solitary. In groups they created culture to quantify the amazing universe and stake claims of specialty and clanship so that that particular culture that corresponds to a particular observation doesn’t invade other groups. The reverse is true too, no one wants their observation to be copied, and imagine a culture being copied, it will ultimately lead to trash commercialization. The same goes for language, since we need to communicate and since we belong to groups. So the mind under siege did in time create all kind of special features such as creativity and culture and language (not in the correct order) and it was made more complex when we decided we’re part of groups rather than individual humans. Complexity in this context means diversity or depth since culture and language are infinite if the observers let it evolve. But why did this evolution lead us to form a shield around the mind and also the physical body to shut away all the other creative influences?

The mind continues to evolve (towards the future) to accommodate new observations that defy convention. A simple colorless triangle seen the first time brings more curiosity than a red colored triangle because the mind does not readily accept complexity, so it just considers the color first and there is no second thought. So the solution for problems it to rip it apart to the basic entities, to the quarks of its existence, and let the groups organize themselves to solve each quark of a problem and then gather the solutions into a single answer. Time is a factor and God should stay out of this. And after a thousand observations and problem solving the mind would become creative enough to consider the colored triangle to have a meaning of its own, that each feature must have an answer.

In another take, the mind under siege is invaded by the universe itself, who (I’m not implying a person) to protect its originality tries to steer the mind to the correct path. But now the mind is not single or alone, there are groups of it, and it developed methods such as culture and language, the methods that the universe doesn’t understand. But all physics being correct, everything new that arises in the mind of the beings in the universe must have been encoded in the fabrics of existence, so we’re merely deciphering what was left there. So why does the universe don’t understand us? Maybe because its another artificial thing that play the role of a tool left there in this space and then us being left here inside it to figure something more complex than the universe. Honestly can we even think outside the universe? It’s all white and fuzzy and full of silence.

And finally, the mind is the last ability that’s left in us to create a unique future, decoded from the hidden secrets of the world. Its not actually hidden, its just that we often start at the hardest place for answers. From time to time we uncover these hidden codes under some proverbial stone and put them together. These hidden codes lay untouched for billions of years, maybe already found by older civilizations in galaxies far from us, will slowly in quantum moments trickle into the deep vestiges of our brain and make wonderful images of what we were looking for. It will tell us that the path to the future is observations sans borders. The mind under siege allows so much to be born so let it be such, just free your soul to the universe. But remember not to change your methods, stay unique then only can you differentiate the solutions of the observations. Its out there you know, everything. Just that we don’t think it’s new or great or amazing, we just pass it off as social, politics and economy. If for once we think it as creativity, culture and language, we can see the bigger picture and know that we created this superb civilization of observers. Do you see your roles now? The meaning of life?
[-] And so the journey continues in this search for truth and also the end.
[-] A house for Mr.Ghost is a series of writings to describe my journeys as a scientist whose mind is lost in the turbulant world of information, lies, money and the lack of it, and so much more.
[+] Read the past posts; [Part 2],[Part 3],[Part 4]

Days of Angels

Celebrating this solitary night,
Painted by the voices of angels,
The occasional breeze reconnecting,
my broken touches tracing your face,
There were no memories of before...


[-] Havent written a poem for so long, so tried this. But I could not complete it.
[+] Here's a sample of my older poems; [Rain;Book1], [Dreamers Anthem],[SaggitariusSky],[Timescapes],[DeathisBeautiful],[StreetChild]

Sunday, January 8

Template Evolution, Year 2

Hey guys. Ok notice anything different? I've hacked the template. This is my Year 2 design. The color theme was hard to come up with, still a crazy mix but I was thinking what color would they paint the McLaren F1 car when Vodafone becomes their main sponsors in 2007. Their current color is silver and black...so add red/ dark orange to it and... you get a new template. The header graphics are designed by OrionFaktory who also hacked the 2050 blog template and header.
Please buzz me if there is problem loading my blog in ur internet browser, color problems, health problems because of the color, legal issues, or if the design offends you. In most cases I wont give a damn, but then again I love you guys, so please do tell me if any color or changes screws up your PC or display. By the way, it wont have much difference in Firefox...I hope so.
Anyone wants template changes or design work to be done, please visit the OrionFaktory site and ask nicely. If you're a student, a jobless graduate student who wakes up after 12 noon, have no girlfriend and no life, then I might do it free for you. If you're rich, make so much money that it screws up the atm screen display everytime you check the balance, spend a lot on booze and girls, don't know what to do with you 10 cars and 20 houses, then I might charge you a small fee. Its all for a needy cause. I will send them to the jobless graduate student...
Till the next post brothers and sisters ...lets Go Ghosting!

Friday, January 6

What might have become...

While finding for a book at the library yesterday, I came upon an old 1957 publication and found this page autographed by the people who presumably read this book way back then. The book itself was a gift to the library. Their signatures are from 1959! Nearly half a century back. Wonder what happened to them. Do anyone really collect old letters or papers anymore?


p/s:[+] Badastronomy is now a blog; [BadAstronomy]
[+] Quantum Diaries, the blogosphere created to commemorate The World Year of Physics ended last week. Read the archives here; [QuantumDiaries]

Wednesday, January 4

Poetry, it's everywhere...

This instruction label inside the metro sounds a bit like a poem. But somehow the real meaning seems to be lost here; in emergency, if you pull the handle, the doors will open...not we open the door? Maybe the person was really writing poetry because it reads abstract.

Tuesday, January 3

'No-Solution' is default.

[update]...In an amazing turn of events, the Malaysian Government decided to step into the case of Mr.Moorthy and the widow will now get all the death benefits and pension of her deceased husband. Thanks to Slim for pointing this out. There is hope now, lets build positively on it. Read the news reports; [TheStar]

Referring back to the case of the unfortunate Mr.Moorthy, I appreciate all your comments. In my last post, I wrote that I don't care about my religion. I clarify this matter in reference to the situation. If in time of serious problems, where human rights matter most, then I believe there is no place for religion and religious solutions. The matter of the fact is that the people involved in the case used religion as the reason and cause to produce a solution for this matter.In the end, all other solutions, including taking the case to court simply did not matter. Hence again, we're back to square one, for Hindus in this country, no-solution is the default answer. If even the court of law cant fight for whatever remaining rights that we have, loosing easily to religion and its reasons, the I sincerely believe religion has no use in this world. Why should I care for my religion if human rights continuously takes second place or even doesn't exist. I still don't understand why people still hope for invisible stuff, the magic bird or talking trees when the reality of the situation is that we lost one of the most important fights.

And for the record, the unfortunate Mr.Moorthy was in serious health complications when he was converted to the other religion which until now is still unproven whether he consented it or not. And still unclear was the fact, because Mr.Moorthy continued to live a Hindu life to the day of his death. And I wish all the stupid law makers will look into changing their act of conduct and also re-establish the importance of court hierarchy when dealing with this kind of matters. A court should only differentiate people as defendants and prosecutors, not of their race or religion. And also I wish a speedy death for the idiots in that special court for that other religion who ruled the verdict. I wonder what will they do if they find out their own children gets stuck in this kind of mess.

To stay in neutral ground, I'll stop this debate now, it's hard to start something and hoping not to anger anyone in the process especially in the issue of religion. Maybe when another religious war breaks out (or maybe its already have begun) then humanity will realize what's important and what's not.



it rains around the world sleep welcomes the dream, and  enigmatic souls awaken along the eternal shores of destiny