White Noise

Coursera (2013)

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 3 Jan 2014 03:46:00 -0800

2014

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 2 Jan 2014 01:32:00 -0800

PS: 2013

Kwench

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 26 Mar 2013 23:18:00 -0700

I order books from Kwench mostly because of the way they are packaged when they get delivered. Also, the list of fiction novels is greater than the company's collection.

PS: The largest amount of time spent in this blog post was to set the two pictures next to each other.

2013

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 3 Jan 2013 01:44:00 -0800

Resolutions:

Read more
Write more
Learn more
Travel more
Play more

Happy New Year, folks :)

PS: Be less like:

Probabilistic Graphical Models

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 26 Dec 2012 00:36:00 -0800

The Kingkiller Chronicle

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 24 Dec 2012 00:39:00 -0800

After "A Song of Ice and Fire" series by George R. R. Martin, "Bartimaeus Trilogy" by Jonathan Stroud, "The Kingkiller Chronicle" by Patrick Rothfuss is the third fantasy series I have read in the near past.

Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" needs no further introduction as it has been made amply popular by the ongoing television series "Game of Thrones". If you have watched the series and liked it - I assure you (as almost always), you would love the books better.

Stroud's "Bartimaeus Trilogy" is the only fantasy series I can recall that gave humor a high priority. This was one light, fun series of books.

I also vaguely remember reading a bunch of David Gemmel, David Eddings etc. But since they were not read as a complete series these stories have been long forgotten.

I started on Rothfuss' "The Kingkiller Chronicle" last week.
The two books that have been released are: "The Name of the Wind" & "The Wise Man's Fear".
Both books are a delight to read.
Even though they are huge manuscripts, the style of writing in these books makes for a very quick reading.

"The Name of the Wind" I have to admit, is more crisp and tighter than the second one.
Even with some character assassination around the second half of "The Wise Man's Fear", the story does pull itself together towards the end pretty well to set up the third book.

These books have elements that parallel J K Rowling's "Harry Potter" series, Christopher Paolini's "Inheritance Cycle", J R R Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings", Daniel Knauf's "Carnivale" etc.

An excerpt from an interview before Rothfuss' "The Wise Man's Fear" was released:

- "What can readers expect from the two sequels and the trilogy that will follow this one?"

- "Well.... I've already written them. So you won't have to wait forever for them to come out. They'll be released on a regular schedule. One per year.

You can also expect the second book to be written with the same degree of care and detail as this first one. You know the sophomore slump? When a writer's second novel is weaker because they're suddenly forced to write under deadline? I don't have to worry about that because my next two novels are already good to go"

But though the first book was released in 2007, the second one only came out in 2011.
The tentative, unconfirmed date for the third book in the series "The Doors of Stone" seems to be May 1, 2013.

Along with "The Winds of Winter", the sixth installment in Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series, Rothfuss' "The Doors of Stone" is another book to look forward to.

Modern & Contemporary American Poetry

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 5 Dec 2012 21:50:00 -0800

Kemmangundi - The trip that was

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 28 Nov 2012 23:31:00 -0800

One of those posts.
You decide to write about a trip. You open a gvim file. And start adding sentences.
Next thing you know it is seven pages long, filled with details that you can't yourself read again.
Even to try to condense it into some manageable length.
You give up.
And forget about it.
Then one day, you have a mail that says: Alert: UNIX Home Directory is 85% full.
You start to delete useless documents occupying precious space in your home area.
Then accidentally chance upon the once concocted drivel.
Decide to start typing directly into the 'New Post' window in the blog.
Without looking at the gvim file.
About the Kemmangundi trip.
Directly from memory.
Heavily condensed. Repetitive.
Using mostly phrases for sentences.
So that - if not for anything else - waking up at 4:30 AM on a Saturday morning on the 8^th of September, 2012 gets recorded.

Yup. This is one of those posts.

Here we go.

The top points of the top points of the trip.

Mullayanagiri, the highest peak in Karnataka, was reached first.

Stone steps were climbed.

Through the clouds.

Through horizontal rain.

Through gales of wind.

To the temple on the top.

It was cold. It was wet. It was great.

There was amateur spelunking involved.

Discarded chips packets and old water bottles were discovered in the caves.

There was amateur photography too. As shown here.

Z Point, Kemmangundi was reached the day after.

The mud was verified to be red.
Red mud paths were trod upon.
Through small leeches.
Through greenery.
Through Shanti falls:

Till a certain height was crossed when Nature changed.
Red mud tracks were now trod upon:
Through the clouds.
Through horizontal rain.
Through gales of wind.
To the Z point.
It was cold. It was wet. It was better than great.
Bread was had. So were biscuits. Not sure about the biscuits though.
Nature was wonderfully furious.

(Be warned: The Z point picture above captures none of Nature's fury)

Hebbe falls was the last place to be visited before heading back.
Badly kept roads were traveled on worse kept jeeps.
Longer distances were trekked as usual routes were blocked.
By gatekeepers of the coffee plantations.
Through the forest estates.
Through the realm of leeches.
Through streams along the path.
To the breath-taking falls.

Literally.
The water was too cold to breathe in.
All of twenty minutes were spent in the water.
Before making the trek back.
Through the realm of leeches.
Through the streams along the path.
Through the forest estates.
In the opposite direction.
Uphill this time.
And without drinking water.

The sight of the jeep at the top provided the same amount of excitement as the falls at the bottom did.
The sight of the punctured wheel took some of that excitement away.
The dysfunctional jack did nothing to help.
Quick trial and error process indicated that six people were necessary and sufficient to tilt a jeep to its side while a seventh quickly changed the tire.
The new old tire held till we were back to Kanthi Nivas.
Lunch was had. Rest. And a second round of cleanup.
There were group photographs.

And the satisfied trip back home.

Shououts/Takeaways/Post scripts:

Shoutout to Gaanja’s bag which took a dive along with its owner into the water, breaking the fall, saving its owner and the assorted electronics and wallets inside it.
Fatigue and tiredness makes everyday food taste so much better. Does nothing at all to mushroom curry though. That remains bad as ever.
The three animals - the deer, the jackal and the same jackal again probably – giving the only indication that there’s some wildlife in the Bhadra reserve.
Single room accommodation, washroom time-tables and running tap water.
Life to death conversion and wanted outlaws.
The leeches. The damn leeches.
The anti leech ammunition.
The leech bite on my left foot, which when healing got infected with an Amoxicillin resistant strain of Stephylococcus aureus, giving the first years in MS Ramiah teaching hospital a fine experiment to conduct - an incision draining procedure, also at the same time providing a topic of conversation and free lifts on the road from random people.

All men for Honor hardest work

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 23 Sep 2012 05:13:00 -0700

[Long story short, I came to realize that I had come up with a 'close reading' of a wrong Emily Dickinson poem. This monstrously cringe-worthy mutilation of a brilliant work is thus presented here. For your face-palming. Cheers!]

All men for Honor hardest work (1193)

All men for Honor hardest work
But are not known to earn —
Paid after they have ceased to work
In Infamy or Urn —

This is one of Emily Dickinson’s short poems. It follows ABAB style of rhyming.

Analysis of the poem:
The poem talks about all people who work for Honor.
Honor, here, can be taken to mean honorable work, charitable work, work carried out for the benefit of others, the general public. It represents a sacrificial type of work that transcends banal occupations carried out solely to acquire money or achieve fame and fortune for oneself.

Emily says that such virtuous people are not known to earn.
Earn, in the way it is used, can refer to earning money, physical or material comforts or luxuries. It can also refer to earning of accolades, adulation, praise, rewards for the honorable work done.

Emily indicates such people are rewarded or paid only after they have ceased to work.
It is when the men retire from service and are no longer seen to be beneficial, to be of any further productive value; only then she says that the public will rise to take note of them.

The rewards and payment indicated in the poem, doled out to such men who gave their all towards Honor, at the end of their tenure, according to the poet, are usually infamy, harsh criticism, dishonor, notoriety or in the some cases even death.

Death is signified by the word Urn in the poem. Getting paid in urn here can be interpreted in three different ways.

Since the poem by itself strikes a melancholy note throughout, firstly, it can be taken to imply that the hard work of the people was never appreciated and was actually considered to be against the public interest and such people were put to death and their ashes contained in an Urn.

Secondly, paid in an Urn could mean that the person working towards Honor, did just that till his own death and his only reward was death itself, naturally knocking on his doorstep.

Or thirdly, taking the ever slightly positive note – it could be interpreted to mean that the selfless person’s work is appreciated at last, after his death and he is rewarded posthumously. But the initial interpretations gel better with the mood of the poem.

Summary:
The righteous people who work the hardest, while doing honorable, selfless deeds seldom garner earnings of any sort during the course of their duties. It is only after they stop being beneficial, they are paid by dishonor or death.

Possible Interpretations:
This poem might be slightly autobiographical.
The men working hard towards Honor can be taken to represent Emily herself. As, even though she composed over eighteen hundred poems, in her lifetime she saw only a very small handful of those poems published.
She did not gather any recognition as a poet while she was still alive, nor did she earn anything from her work.
The poem might be an indication of her realization that probably after her own death, when the people did discover her work she might live in history, in infamy at least.

PS: Parallels:
This poem reminds me of the poem “The Patriot” by Robert Browning wherein a similar theme is portrayed.
The patriot is elected joyously, and even after he works hard and accomplishes tasks that no others would have done, his achievements are not recognized and he is sent to hang. At the end, the man does feel a sense of relief that since his achievements were not paid for by the world – God will have to answer in heaven.

A Nonchalant Exfoliator...

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 23 Feb 2012 08:28:00 -0800

A loofah

A loofah, aloof

A loofah, aloof with flu

A loofah, aloof with flu, flew

A fool!

Judges You!

-----------------------
Downloaded, Finger Painted, Blogged from my Windows Phone.

Bilikal Rangaswamy Betta

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sun, 19 Feb 2012 00:04:00 -0800

The longer one stays away from posting or giving any heed to the blog; when restarting, more becomes the need to pen down such a monumental literary piece that would someday be at least made into a bad action movie.

Though the hiatus from blogging does fit nicely into that long time interval, this is not one such post.

This is not.

The most action you might come across in this post is a three way bull fighting scene, which was witnessed for a grand total of three seconds, from the window seat of the bus, someplace outside Bidadi.

But if you are reading this line, you have already come across it. The action sequence of the post is over.

The remainder of this post deals mostly with tips about reaching Bilikal Rangaswamy Betta and making it back.

First off, knowing Kannada helps.

A basic knowledge of the where the place is does too.

Since all knowledge about reaching Bilikal Betta on the internet appears to be generated by various versions of the one paragraph, here is some more content to increase that database:

Assuming you are not going by bikes, cars or skydiving right to the top the hill - this is what you do:

Get to K R Market, Kanakpura Bus Stop. There are buses to Kanakapura every 15 minutes or less. At least that’s what it looked like. Hop into one.

No matter what the Google maps say - there is no need to go to Kanakapura.

Get down at Harohalli.

Take a shared auto to Dodda Maralwadi. This is 8 km off. You pass through a lot of Doddis on the way like Narale, Karikal, Durgagowdana Doddi etc. Try to sit in the back of the shared auto with your feet dangling off the edge. Imagination permitting, a video can be made depicting one running very quickly in the air – in full reverse.

Stock up on food, water and drinks at this point. Stare and disbelief at auto drivers who proclaim it is an additional 15 km to the bottom of the trek. Small outbursts of laughter are permitted as well.

The foot of Bilikal Rangaswamy Betta, or as the locals call it - Tal betta is 5 km from Dodda Maralwadi.

Get into an auto whose driver mentions a number no more than 7 km.

One passes through Devanahalli, Konala Doddi during this part of the trip. The place is overgrown with mulberry plantations. And every house is immersed in sericulture.

The best way to make the auto driver warm up to you is to ask basic questions on sericulture, where the eggs are procured, where the silk is sold; make appropriate sympathetic sounds when he details how they get only around 200 bucks for kg of silk produced etc. This effort will not only increase your sericultural know-how, but will also get you his name and contact details, and on the way back make him get a better auto and wait for you for the best part of a quarter hour - as you make your way down the trail.

The trek up – from Tal betta, to Madhya Betta to Bilikal Betta - is about 3 km. In the worst case scenario, as we had to test it out, starting at 1 under the scorching Sun, it takes exactly 2 hours to reach the top. If there are four people trekking, you will almost completely go through at least one kg of bananas, one kg of oranges, one liter of Maaza and two liters of water in this interval.

Tamarind and ‘Belad hannu’ can be foraged as additional appetizers along the way, but this completely depends on how accurately one can throw sticks or dried coconut husks to strike these down from the tree tops.

This trek is usually grouped under Easy to Moderate. In retrospect, it is easily moderate.

Atop the hill, there is a Rangaswamy temple. Carved underneath a giant monolithic rock.

There is a man made pond to the side of the temple, a slight ways off, which provides a sweet swimming area for several small frogs, large toads, small birds and huge bees. As we also came to understand, it serves a dual purpose of providing clean drinking water to the temple inhabitants.

And also, if you really wanted to know it all right away - on a biggish rock in front of the temple, an elephant is painted in blue.

The temple is open on Satudays. The priest comes in for puja on Saturdays. Saturday is the day of the week to target. Or the week of January 14-15th. A huge jatre takes place atop the hill and people from all surrounding villages attend at this time. But this decision, esteemed reader, is totally yours.

The altitude atop the Bilikal Betta makes it so that there is a very pleasant cross breeze at all times. After soaking in the scenery all around where one can see for miles and miles on end, lounging near the temple’s side is serene and peaceful.

The trek down takes just 45 minutes. The Sun also helped by greatly reducing its experiments to see how quickly it can dehydrate trekkers. You could call up your newly made auto driver buddy halfway along the trail, who will deliver you from Tal Betta till Dodda Maralwadi - directly into another auto which will take you all the way till Harohalli and a from there a bus will get you to Bangalore.

If you happen to get down at Banshankari and not K R Market, eat Masala Dosa and Sambar Vade in Adigas before returning home.

The trek will then be truly complete.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

This post is dedicated to Sarvesh and my brothers -the fellow trekkers, the Harohalli aunty- who knew the place way more than Google maps and various blog posts on this topic put together, the kids along the way– Sidalinganna –the woodcutter- for his entertaining tales of elephants and wild buffalo and his elephant survival techniques, Seethamma and her two brothers – for finishing the supply of chocolates, Manju – the sericultural auto driver – for being there on the way back and not making us walk an additional 5 km back to Dodda Maralwadi from Tal Betta.

Point the finger

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 12 May 2011 01:35:00 -0700

And suddenly I found myself staring at this picture in a random tumblr account:

That is to blame for reminding me that I have a blog.
And this post's existence.

Well.. since I am already here, in the words of John Langrishe -

Only the minimal of civilities.
Hello.
How are you?
A bit warmer today than Tuesday.
The last may be a little too forgiving.

I see now that Blogger has come up with ways to make even blogs like mine look way cooler than they rightfully should be:

Flipcard

Snapshot

Mosaic

Sidebar

Timeslide

Bonus:
Series Recommendations -
Sitcom: The Office (British Version), Modern Family
Drama: Deadwood, Carnivale
Fantasy: Game of Thrones
Crime: The Wire, Breaking Bad

Watch the weather change.
Peace.

The Betrayal

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 18 Oct 2010 09:27:00 -0700

He leaped over the fallen tree and followed his elder brother as they ran swiftly through the forestland in the moonlight. He smiled as he ran. They carried good news back to their besieged camp.

Their town had been peaceful till the enemy attacked. The battle had been raging strong for weeks, with neither side accepting defeat. All able men from his town were sent to battle armed. The brothers had been eager to join. But they were disallowed as they were still young.

Upon their insistence they were assigned reconnaissance duties. They were ideally suited for this mission anyway. They had grown up in these woods and knew it better than anyone in the town. Their efforts had paid off today. They had discovered the enemy’s storage supplies and routes which was vital information.

The enemy appeared out of nowhere. There were thirty heavily armed people. Within seconds the brothers were captured and tied up. His brother was roughly pulled to their leader who demanded they lead them to their hidden base. Otherwise they both were promised a slow and painful death.

He knew his brother very well. He also knew his end had come, thus. There was no way his brother would divulge anything to the enemy. This realization strangely did not affect him. Instead a strange calm descended. He awaited his inevitable death.

But what followed completely shattered this. His brother instantly agreed to lead the enemy voluntarily, if they were both let go after. A deep rage rose in him and for the first time he truly hated his brother. He was aware his brother knew the enemy would not keep their promise. But in his current state, there was nothing he could do.

The enemy realizing that he had no intention to co-operate tied him to the horse which carried additional weaponry. He burrowed his face in the horse’s mane, to hide his tears of his brother’s cowardice and betrayal.

The elder brother led the group through the forest. They were traveling faster than before now. The horse was almost at a full gallop. He vowed to strike down his brother the first chance he got.

It was then he smelled it faintly. It was only the years of exploring this place that he could detect it. He was thankful of his gag for the first time.

He knew that the smell could only be the toxic gas that hung low above the deep marsh.

The enemy was thundering through a poisonous marshland without their knowledge. The horse which was at the end, realized it too late; started thrashing in vain.

He could not hold his breath in any longer. His head was spinning and his sight unfocussed.

Next thing he knew, he was pulled off the horse and hefted onto a very familiar back. He blearily watched his brother also pull a flame thrower from the horse.

The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness were flames.

Flames burning purple.

He smiled again.

The Tunnel

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 18 Oct 2010 09:25:00 -0700

The man awoke. He could not remember falling asleep. The only vague memories he had were of a fight, a flight of steps, a ledge and drowsiness. Everything else was fuzzy.

He looked around. It was late night. He was on a high ledge in a long, dark tunnel. A naked yellow lamp shed a dim glow of light in the distance.

Somehow he felt different. Good different. Except for a slight numbness in his throat, a few bruises on his limbs, he had never before felt more alive or alert.

He sensed her before she even came into his sight. Her delicate perfume and the smell of her hair filled his nostrils with a heady aroma. He could hear the soft musical sound of her footsteps and quite surely, the rustle of the wind through the folds of her dress.

He was suddenly acutely aware of his own heartbeat.

The light from the lamp caught her. He inhaled sharply. She was exquisite. Her hair softly rose and fell onto her shoulders with her every step. The sight was so mesmerizing that he stared transfixed.

It was only then that he became aware of the other man behind the pillar. The discovery had taken this long as all his senses had been captivated by the vision in front of him. Just as the other man started to move, the light of the lamp caught the hilt of the dagger in his hand.

The glint of light spurred his enthralled body into action. Without any conscious thought, he leapt from the ledge; landed on the ground cat-like and rushed between them before either had moved two feet.

The swiftness of these actions took all of them completely by surprise. The mugger was the first to recover and within the blink of an eye, arched and threw his dagger.

The man, still operating on auto-pilot, ducked instinctively. He closed the distance between them and struck out once. And just like that, the fight was over.

He slowly turned around. On its way past him, the dodged dagger had made a slight graze on the girl’s cheek. They were suffused with a dark pink color now. She stood there motionless, wide-eyed with trembling lips.

His senses went into overdrive. His heart threatened to burst a hole through his chest. He felt a deep heat rise to his head. He eyes saw red. He could no longer breathe. The only thing he knew for sure was that remaining there any longer would make his rescue completely meaningless.

He turned and bolted blindly. A seedy bar was the closest building. He stumbled into the nearest stool. The bartender, dexterously wiping glasses, didn’t even look up when he asked:

‘Blood or wine?’

The man did not reply. He did not need to.

The bartender took one look at the bite marks on the man’s throat, reached for the nearest bottle of blood, and pushed it across.

The label ~~read~~ on the bottle read – ‘For Vampires Only’.

I Write Like

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 9 Aug 2010 02:06:00 -0700

Neil Gaiman.
At least the last two short stories, it seems.

And before that I used to write like Raymond Charles, William Gibson and Stephen King - in that order.

And all that listing stuff - purely ripped off from Cory Doctorow and Isaac Asimov

:P

PS: http://iwl.me/ (for those who did not follow the link above)

Top 50 Foreign Films

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Wed, 12 May 2010 00:53:00 -0700

The top 50 foreign language movies that I have seen, which were released after 1985, are these:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cidade de Deus - City of God (2002). Portuguese
Das Leben der Anderen - The lives of others (2006). German
El Secreto de sus ojos - The secret of their eyes (2009). Spanish
La vita è bella - Life is beautiful (1997). Italian
Amores Perros - Love's a bitch (2000). Spanish
Krótki film o milosci - A short film about love (1988). Portuguese
Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain - Amelie (2001). French
Okurubito - Departures (2008). Japanese
Un Prophete - A prophet (2009). Arabic
La haine - The Hate (1995). French.
Oldboy - Old Boy (2003). Korean
Festen - The Celebration (1998). Danish
Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi - Spirited away (2001). Japanese
Låt den rätte komma in - Let the right one in (2008). Swedish.
Le scaphandre et le papillon - Driving bell and the butterfly (2007). French
Mar Adentro - The Sea Inside (2004). Spanish
Nicija zemlja - No Man's land (2001). Bosnian
Bacheha-Ye aseman. Children of heaven (1997). Persian
Bom yeoreum gaeul gyeoul geurigo bom - Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring (2003). Korean
Chung Hing sam lam - Chungking Express (1994). Cantonese
Lola rennt - Run Lola Run (1998). German
Wo hu cang long - Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000). Mandarin
Madeo - Mother (2009). Korean
Diarios de motocicleta - The Motorcycle Diaries (2004). Spanish
Batoru rowaiaru - Battle Royale (2000). Japanese
Lilja 4-ever - Lilya 4-ever (2002). Swedish
4 luni, 3 saptamâni si 2 zile - 4 months, 3 weeks, 2 days (2007). Romanian
Tôkyô sonata - Tokyo Sonata (2008). Japanese
Entre les murs - The Class (2008). French
Volver - To Return (2006). Spanish
Kolja - Kolya (1996). Czech
Linda Linda Linda (2005). Japanese
Shi mian mai fu - The house of the flying daggers (2004). Mandarin
Die Fälscher - The Counterfeiters (2007). German
El paraíso ahora - Paradise Now (2005). Arabic
Revanche (2008). German/Russian
Mies vailla menneisyyttä - The man without a past (2002). Finnish
Tenten - Adrift in Tokyo (2007). Japanese
La Misa Luna - Under the Same Moon (2007). Spanish
13 Tzameti (2005). French
Malena (2000). Italian/Sicilian
Irréversible (2002). French/Spanish
Ao no hono-o - The blue light (2003). Japanese
Maison do himiko - La maison de Himiko (2005). Japanese
Yeopgijeogin geunyeo - My sassy girl (2001). Korean
Mogari no mori - The Mourning Forest (2007). Japanese
Chi to hone - Blood and bones (2004). Japanese
Scrap Heaven (2005). Japanese
Bakwji - Thirst (2009). Korean
Gwoemul - The host (2001). Korean

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PS: The list is populated only with the movies whose names I could remember. And of those only those worth getting listed.
PPS: At least one component of the genre of most movies here is 'Drama'.
PPPS: Since rating every movie individually seemed a huge exercise, the list is arranged such that the real good movies are on top.

Top Manga and Anime - Take Two

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 07:54:00 -0700

Repopulating this earlier list of top anime and manga.
Here be the latest ordering:

One Piece [Manga + Anime]
Berserk [Manga + Anime]
Bleach [Manga + Anime]
Naruto [Manga + Anime]
Death Note [Anime]
Full Metal Alchemist [Manga + Anime]
Lone Wolf and Cub [Manga]
Monster [Anime]
Samurai X: Rurouni Kenshin [Anime]
Code Geass R1: Lelouch of the Rebellion [Anime]
Code Geass : Lelouch of the Rebellion R2 [Anime]
Gintama [Anime]
Black Lagoon [Anime]
Black Lagoon 2: The Second Barrage [Anime]
Ubel Blatt [Manga]
Vagabond [Manga]
Detective School Q [Anime]
Trigun [Anime]
Cowboy Bebop [Anime]
Kenichi [Anime]
Gun X Sword [Anime]
Nodame Cantabile [Anime]
Gantz [Manga]
Eden [Manga]
Akira [Manga]
Nodame Cantabile Paris [Anime]
Seirei No Moribito [Anime]
Fruits Basket [Anime]
Hunter x Hunter [Anime]
Avatar [Anime]
Zero No Tsukaima [Anime]
Zero no Tsukaima: Futatsuki no Kishi [Anime]
Fate Stay Night [Anime]
Elfen Lied [Manga + Anime]
Melody of Oblivion [Anime]
Macross Zero [Anime]
Hellsing [Anime]
Samurai Deeper Kyo [Anime]
Full Metal Panic [Anime]
Busou Renkin [Anime]
Blame! [Manga]
Bitter Virgin [Manga]
Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei [Anime]
Serial Experiments Lain [Anime]
Afro Samurai [Anime]

In the list:
Underlined ones are continuing, and still going good and strong.
Bold ones are new additions to the list.

Special Mention:
Watchmen - [English/Comics] - would have tied with Rank 7 in the list above.

Along the way while cooking up this list, came across these titles too:

Full Metal Alchemist - Brotherhood
Claymore
Hajime No Ippo
Samurai Champloo
20th Century Boys

Any of these worth watching?

Random:
Black Lagoon - Third Season is confirmed.
\m/

'Hello', he lied

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 07:21:00 -0700

For about a week now, a majority of the daytime has been spent in documenting stuff already done, stuff that needs to be done, and the way to do the stuff. Since I have been creative writing for days on end, and also as this blog is somehow turning out to be a place where I report what I have watched in the recent remember-able past, herewith lies one more in the same vein:

In reverse chronological order, here goes:
[Start date - 19/4/2010]
1. Saw Eddie Izzard's - 'Definite Article' (1996) because of a comment about this post - Top Stand Up Comedians - in Buzz. This dude will make the top 15 in the list. Easily. Had forgotten how good he was since the last stand up bit I'd seen of him was years and years ago.

2. Watched 'Like Totally' and 'Melbourne International Comedy Festival' by Dylan Moran. Added respect for the dude. Bumping this guy two places up in the original Top Stand Up Comedians list. One of the few guys who do not re-use 90% of their material from their first show in all their acts.

3. Watched the latest episodes of One Piece. This still remains as the best anime on the Top Anime list. Eiichiro Oda has still a God status. Berserk is up 50% or so from last week too. Mostly because I realized that Kentaro Miura has restarted drawing Berserk, after a long hiatus where he up and left to professionally learn to play Guitar Hero.

4. Watched the whole series of - The Wire - which according to Wikipedia "has been described by critics as the greatest television series ever made". And I must say, it is worth every single decimal point in the 9.7 rating in IMDB.

5. Discovered that the DVD release of FRIENDS has some decent amount of un-aired footage in every episode. And this realization after having watched the aired version over four times completely. /facepalm

6. A bunch of decent movies - will try to make a honest post out of this.

7. Briefly tried to continue watching Samurai Deeper Kyo. Still does not seem to show any more promise than the usual action anime.

8. IPL. On and off.

9. Simulation Waveforms. In VCS by Synopsys.
[End date - 19/3/2010]

Action Items:
a. Re-populate this anime list.
b. Do something about Point 6.

Random information:
Presently listening to - 'Breath of Life' by Shamindra from the Album: Secrets Of Zen - "Japanese Chill Out" Volume.1

Guess with the picture added and all this post may be of a decent length by now.
/kthxbai

The Hillock

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 02:21:00 -0800

The man climbed the rocky hillock. The air was cool all around him. He had been climbing for a long while now but did not feel the slightest bit tired. His mind felt fresh and clear, as it did every time he walked up this place.

As he climbed, he looked at the picturesque town nestling at the bottom. The lake next to it and the greenery at the distance all looked straight out of a scene from a postcard. He had come to this town a few years ago. And had never regretted the move. The bright and lively town looked quaint and delicate from where he was now. The lake right next to it looked impossibly clear and blue.

He walked slowly taking the whole scene in. There still was some way to the top, but he was in no real hurry. He loved this stretch. He felt more alive here. As if all his senses had been amplified. He felt sure if he concentrated hard enough he could hear the pleasant buzz of the town all the way from the bottom. He could make out the color on each feather of the bird that was flying in lazy circles above him. He breathed the clean mountain air and continued his way to the top.

He felt a cold draft of wind on the back of his neck which made him turn and look up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bird freeze in mid air.

He felt a distant rumble under his feet then. Several things seemed to happen all at once. The leaves of the solitary tree in the distance stopped fluttering in the wind as though they had been turned off. He felt a sudden chill in the air. The bird started to fly away rapidly. Unthinkingly, he turned his head a fraction to follow its movements.

That was when he became aware of the big rock that was hurtling towards him. It was so out of the blue, that he was completely stunned. He stared at the rock transfixed as it generated more momentum and thundered downwards. As it loomed closer, he felt unable to even avert his eyes.

He cringed. At the last moment, the boulder hit a small out cropping, deviated a bit from its original path and crashed loudly just about two feet away from him, carrying a part of the rocky path along, as it rolled further down along the hillock.

The man had never had a near death experience before. The shock was still too much for him to completely appreciate his good fortune. He continued to watch the rapid descent of the rolling boulder almost involuntarily. He watched it wide eyed as it crashed and displaced a group of huge rocks, a short distance below him. And these in turn, gathered more stones and rubble as they tumbled downwards. Horrified, he saw a rocky landslide form right before his eyes.

He remembered the town suddenly. It was directly in the path of the land slide.

The scene that followed was something out of a nightmare. The magnitude of destruction of the town was enormous. The group of rocks which had been displaced caused the most damage. He could very realistically feel the angst and pain of the townspeople. He could almost hear their screams. The din and clamor was deafening in his ears. The scene was just too much to take in.

Within a few seconds, a huge cloud of raised dust blocked his view. There was a lull that followed. He shut his eyes tightly as if to block the scene from his eyes. After what seemed like a long time, he opened his eyes.

He could not believe what he saw.

The scene in front of him was as picturesque as it was before. The town was nestling safely next to the blue lake. The bird was still lazily circling in front of him. He could once again make out all the color on its feathers.

This time, the man laughed out loud in sheer relief. He realized that he had not breathed in a while now. He gulped in large amounts of air and sighed as he slowly felt his nerves calm. He wiped the tears blinding his eyes and gazed at the town with new-found fondness.

After a while, he turned, looked at the unbroken path in front of him and debated whether to continue his climb.

He felt a cold draft of wind at the back of this neck. The bird froze in mid air.

The man rapidly walked forward two feet. And then stopped.

He felt a distant tremor under his feet. He looked up just as he felt a chill in the air. He caught one last glance of the bird before it rapidly flew away. He smiled.

A tall pedestal stands there on the hillock today. The structure has been built entirely by the huge boulder that crashed into the lake. The townspeople call it ‘The Shrine of the Savior’.

Top Stand Up Comedians

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 06:40:00 -0800

From all the stand up comedy that I have watched, this is the list of comics that I have. The list is arranged in the descending order - from the best to the so-so and less.
[Wherever I could recollect, the name of the show that I have seen them in is also added]

1. Bernie Mac - The Original Kings of Comedy, Def Comedy Jam
2. DL Hugely - The Original Kings of Comedy, Def Comedy Jam,
3. Steve Harvey - The Original Kings of Comedy
4. Cedric the Entertainer - The Original Kings of Comedy
[Mentioned at the top because the whole show - The Original Kings of Comedy, is simply, just simply, hilarious]
5. Mitch Hedberg - Mitch Hedberg Special
6. Chris Rock - Bring the Pain, Bigger and Blacker, Kill the Messenger, Never Scared
7. Richard Pryor - Random clips
8. George Carlin - Random clips
9. Rowan Atkinson - Rowan Atkinson: Live
10. Robin Williams - Reality, What A Concept; Robin Williams: Live on Broadway
11. Bill Maher - Be More Cynical, Victory Begins At Home
12. Dave Gorman - Googlewhack adventures
13. Eddie Murphy - Random clips
14. Dylan Moran - Monster
15. Earthquake - One Night Stand, About Goddamn Time
16. Lewis Black - Red, White and Screwed; Black on Broadway
17. Zach Galifianakis - Purple onion, Between Two Ferns
18. Chris Tucker - Random clips
19. Russel Peters - New york central: Live; Red, White and Brown
20. Jeff Dunham - Spark Of Insanity
21. Robert Schimmel - Unprotected
22. Dave Chappele - For what its worth
23. Jo Koy - Jo Koy Special
24. Pablo Fransisco - Bits and Pieces
25. Katt Williams - American Hustle
26. Joe Rogan - Joe Rogan: Live
27. Jerry Seinfeld - from Seinfeld
28. Brian Regan, Demen Martin, Jim Gaffigan, Sebastian Maniscalco - Comedy Central
29. Dane Cook - The Insomniac Tour, Vicious Circle
30. Carlos Mencia - Take A Joke America; Mind of Mencia, No Strings Attached

Conference Proceedings

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 06:34:00 -0800

About the conference:
SVUG - System Verilog User Group Conference.
Taj Residency .
Wednesday.
11th of November, 2009.

[Prologue: The conference was great. I could actually understand what was being explained almost completely, and that is a rare occurrence during conferences in general. Till lunch it was mostly an introduction to System Verilog and its uses for designers and in verification. Post lunch was mostly on OVM - Open Verification Methodology. Since that was methodology was alien, it was not as interesting as the first session was . But in general the latter half too was appreciated and was received with as much attention.]

Excerpts from the notes that I jotted down during the talks follow. They are mostly one liners from, C. Cummings, the speaker who delivered the brilliant talks in the first session:

[At the beginning of his talk, second point in his second slide]
I would like you all to sit back and listen and not interrupt me at all throughout the presentation.... NOT!!

[On adding assertions to legacy code using bind]
But if your mother and I ever catch you using the bind command to instantiate modules, we will be very angry with you.

[On using bind files properly]
Start using outputs in bind files, then the designer will have very unkind words for you.

[On using macros in defining assertions]
I introduced macros for assertions mostly for the designers. Because they are lazy.... C'mon, you know its true.

[On a question asked in a very low voice, after the talk]
You need to be more assertive when you speak, or we need to get you a mike.

[When his computer switched off suddenly]
I think the laptop feels it will work better with the power cord connected.

[During the time it took to restart]
I can do hand puppets till the comp boots...
[Laughs heard all around]
It doesn't matter anyway. It was only a summary slide.

[When the booting took even longer]
We can take questions from the audience now, without any distractions on the screen... Not that it is my choice.

[Announcing lunch after the talks slightly ate into the lunch time, and people were fidgeting]
I guess there is some food available to the left of this room. I think you can go and have some. I mean, only if anyone really wants to.

[End of the conference, while calling out the name of the last of 5 persons who'd won OVM code books on a lucky draw, after the others called out company first and first letter of the person's name before calling it out entirely]
Since it has become a routine...
Ok.. How many of you are from Flextora*?
[Three hands go up]
Ok.. Does your name start with K?
[One hand goes down]
Does your name have a vowel in it?
[Laughs heard all round]

PS: There were other one-liners too. Most of these would have worked better if one had actually been there.
PPS: The lunch was great. So were the drinks and snacks at the end of the conference
PPPS: Day well spent.

Reasons, Cycling and the Big Banyan Tree

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 03:32:00 -0800

Mostly because of the fact that I presently, as of this moment, have completely exhausted all the anime I had, both good, not-so-good, can't be in the vicinity of the word 'good'; and also because of other smaller things like the fact that I haven't written anything in a very long time; and I just finished Chetan Bhagat's latest dish out - 2 States - and figured, if something like that can get published into a book, the world is prepared to take a post like this any day; general boredom, a really unsteady internet connection from the last two days, and a blank notepad file in front of me, this post comes into existence.

Mostly because of the fact that Sagar(evilsense) bought a new cycle; and also because of other smaller things like it being a three day weekend; more than just two interested people; more than just one new bicycle; not too bad weather plus no rain, Diwali and with it the hope that there would be more than just vehicles on the street, for instance, stuff like crackers etc. ; myself, evilsense and Sarvesh(sakku) decided to go on a one day cycling trip a few weekends ago.

Mostly because after meeting up near Attiguppe, which is, according to Google Maps, almost in the middle from my house(Shankarmutt) and Sakku's(Rajarajeshwarinagar) and travelling along Bangalore University, NLS etc and reaching Sarvesh's place for brunch, we had no distinct routes chalked out to cycle, we thought we would generally ride the outskirts and catch any pools/water-logged areas/other buildings of note along the way - and in the process of doing so reached Kengeri.

Mostly because even after meeting with few relatives of mine in Kengeri and discussing options about nearby places to cycle, the only place that was at a ride-able distance and could be accepted as a tourist spot with some value was the Big Banyan Tree, we found ourselves there at around 2 in the afternoon after about a 7 km uphill climb off Mysore road.

Mostly because the grass was green and so inviting, and our thighs and behinds had known better times, general tiredness, several monkeys that seemed to mind their own business, a vantage place to keep an eye on our bicycles - since two of them didn't have proper locks - and one didn't have a lock at all, a huge canopy overhead by the one single huge banyan tree which blocked most of the sunlight and made the place around real cool, not too many interesting females walking around- the power nap for the next hour felt great.

Mostly because we still had time to kill after, and one of us remembered that we did pack a camera, and a general interest to see what the fuss about the tree was all about, to check out the graffiti on the bark - some of those signatures in impossible places on the tree; and because the single tree sprawled over 4 acres by itself; and the hope that there might be some of the above-mentioned females around; we walked through and around the tree.

Mostly because the guard-person had got tired of telling people off about things they should not be doing - which on later realization, he probably had mugged from the huge list that was displayed on a board with a green background - at the entrance of the tree; or probably he was just bored; he told us a few details about the tree - details which I could have done better justice to if I'd written this post earlier - about how this was the second biggest banyan tree in India, how the existing Shiva temple in the center was the place where the original trunk was, how it was over 450 years old, and it has some 2000 odd off-shoots that are twined together and nurtured, so that they can continue to grow, about the 4.5 odd acres, and other such numbers and data I can't quite seem to recollect now.

Mostly because the above-mentioned hope wasn't held up, and the realization that we were about 25 odd kilometers away from my house and similar two digit numbers to the others'; and the fact that the thighs and the behinds were starting to get accustomed to the walking on the ground; and the fact that it was Diwali which expects some attendance in the house when one is in the same city; we cycled back - sagar, sakku and me and reached home - in that order.

Mostly because this has gone on longer than I thought it would, I am ending the post here.

PS:
Raw data:
1. Total distance in one day = Over 50 km
2. Date = October 17th, 2009
3. Start time = 7:00 am
4. End time = 6:00 pm (4:45 pm- 6:00 pm)
5. Cycles used =

Mine: Cannon barrel: Bought Jan 1, 1996, Cycle seat inserted on 16th Oct, 2009.

Sagar: Hero - New Age Hawk. Bought 2009

Sarvesh: Hercules Ryders. Bought 2009

6. Exact route taken* = (insert Google Map snapshot here if it is ever taken)
7. A few random pics* = (Just the one actually)8. Previous cycling trips = The Bicycle Diaries

*reasons heartily used to delay the post

About the Big Banyan Tree:
1. Size = 4.5 - 5 acres
2. Age = 450 odd years
3. How to reach: Drive on Mysore Road beyond Kengeri, take a deviation to the right at Kumbalagod junction and proceed for 7 km. If approaching from Magadi Road, turn left at a spot with a clear indication between Tavarekere and Chennenahalli, and continue for about 6 km.

Blogofractal

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 07:58:00 -0700

Remembered having scribbled this as a draft of an illustration/comic for an article in the magazine. I stumbled upon this after a long time. Its blogged here to do some justice to the fifteen minutes that I spent on it. [Click here to biggify]

[Read all the tweets in this page anyway- http://twitter.com/shitmydadsays]

It really ain't

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Tue, 8 Sep 2009 20:58:00 -0700

The Partner

noreply@blogger.com (Anonymous) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 10:36:00 -0700

The man followed the old geezer. The old man limped, probably from a bullet wound. It was hard to say, as most of his left leg was swathed in old bandages that looked like they hadn't been changed in years. They walked in silence. The path they trod did not seem oft visited. But it seemed that the old timer knew exactly where he was going. They kept good time regardless of his limping.

The man bowed his head and thought. It had been about two years ago that he had taken on this mission. His peers hadn’t wanted him to. They had more or less accepted that his captured partner would have been killed by now. And even if he wasn’t, the chances that he could be found, and if found, that he would still be sane were very slim at best. But the man couldn’t be persuaded against. He and his partner had always worked as a team. They were the best agents the company ever had. If there was any chance of rescuing the captive, he was their only shot.

The man had left no stone unturned. The capturers knew his comrade was very valuable. And his whereabouts had been kept very private. But years of doing what he did, finding people with information, and extracting it came as a second nature to him. But this time around though, it hadn’t been easy at all. He was one of the top in his line of work, and it had taken him this long to find this place.

He had found the old man in the smallish village at the foot of the small dense hillock, they were presently walking through. The old man was the only one who seemed to have some idea of where the building was, which through the fragments of information the man had obtained, was most probably where his friend was being held.

The old man turned sharply to the left and pushed through an overgrowth of vegetation, and in a clearing, hidden from the path, there was a creepy, medium sized building. It appeared self sufficient from the looks of it. There was a water pump, a generator, cut up wood. But it looked deserted and seemed out of use for months now.

Mostly by habit, the man circled the place once slowly. He found no signs of recent human activity anywhere around. He entered the building and quickly scanned all the rooms. It appeared there had been about three people, mostly guards.

This definitely felt like the right place.

He discovered the hidden door behind the wardrobe quite easily. He had noticed the faint scratch marks on the floor the moment he’d walked in. He shoved the wardrobe aside, picked the lock, and walked down the dark staircase that followed.

There was a very heavy iron door with a huge bar keeping it closed at the end. There was a small latched opening at the bottom which he assumed was for passing a tray of food and water.

He lifted the bar and pulled mightily at the door. It creaked and opened slowly. He stepped inside.

It was the gloomiest room he had ever seen. There was no source of light except a very small opening almost close to the ceiling. There were broken pieces of what might have been a table or a chair once. There were a few threadbare rags in a corner. The rough stone walls all around felt creepy and cold.

There were two things that drew his attention though. One was the faint blood stains on the floor and the wall. It seemed it had been hastily cleaned up after, but he knew where to look, and he found them without much difficulty. The other item of intrigue was a strange contraption that was made of pieces of wood and cloth. It was hanging from an out jutting in the stone wall. It looked like a pouch, with some sort of a lid.

He walked a couple of steps and looked inside it. It was empty save for some minute bread crumbs at the bottom. He shut the lid and looked around the stone walls once more, taking in everything. The he closed his eyes. He thought.

The pattern of the faint blood stains indicated a fight. A fight indicated that his partner had escaped, or at least tried to. But this was a perfect locked room mystery. There was only the iron door and no other points of entry or exit. This did not seem like a place of interrogation, and since it appeared that the prisoner was being held here the whole time, there was no need for any guard to enter the room. He opened his eyes. They rested on the pouch which was swinging back and forth gently

And then it hit him. He smiled for the first time in years.

He heard a sound and turned around and saw that the old man had followed him and was peering interestedly into the room.

The man asked the old geezer – ‘So, partner… what did you do for water?’

The old man gaped and stared at him wide eyed for a few seconds. Then he grinned hugely. He stood up straight and stretched his limbs. He took a cloth and rubbed his face clean. He cast his wig aside and ran a hand through his hair, grinning still. The change was astounding. No one would have believed that he had been a septuagenarian seconds ago.

He stared questioningly at the man, and shook his head in resignation when the man pointed in the direction of the faint blood stains.

‘And?’ he said.

‘And… this, here’- the man said, pointing to the pouch –‘There is no way that you would have been given so much bread every day, that you needed something of this sort to store it in. You ate only a part of the bread and stored the rest here for sometime, didn’t you? And when you had sufficient amount stored, you probably started eating less and less each day, and leaving the rest in the tray. And then, probably, you completely stopped eating the bread given to you. The guards then would have had to come in to investigate or throw your dead body out. That’s how you escaped, right?’

The look on his partner’s face confirmed his theory.

The man smiled again. ‘But water would not have lasted all that long. What did you do for that?’

His partner bent down and lifted a piece of broken wood, and went to the far side of the room, speaking as he went. ‘Knew I should have cleaned up the stains better, but I wanted to get out of this place pretty bad by then.’ He pushed the wood between two stones in the wall and slowly water began to flow along the length of the wood. ‘Slightly cracked a water pipe’, he said, cupping the water flowing in his hands. ‘Discovered it within the first month in this hole itself’

He turned around and faced the man- ‘By the way, how did you know it was me? I thought the disguise was perfect. Not one single guy in the whole village had the faintest idea.’

‘You can’t disguise a person’s eyes’, the man said.

‘... and also… you have been limping on the wrong leg ever since I met you, partner.’