The mighty Thor strikes again

After almost 40 years, I finally get the chance to find out what the comic strip character Thor is all about. Some of the guys in PFS were devilishly attracted to this character in their brightly hot coloured Marvel comics. I always was told that comics are a waste of time and would only waste your time and bring you down as life is all about studies and getting good results and comics were thrash. Oh, man! What a wasted childhood, missing on all the nice things that boys love. In fact, the only time I could indulge on this sin is during the monthly visit to the B block barber - sometimes feeling like Mr. Bean during his visit to the dentist (when he reluctantly had leave his magazine when his name was called for treatment by the dentist's helper).
Thanks to Hollywood, lazy people do not need read. They can conserve their God given retinal cells of rods and cones to savor the joy of colour, light and sense surround sounds of the psychedelic hues of the silver screen.
This Norseman mythological fable is an addictive one which wild imagination and computer graphics to match. The story is intricate with infusion of the idea of alien visitation to Earth  and purportedly secrets of space bridges in the universe to ease teleport transportation. 

Still on daughters and fathers...

Is it not funny that we only appreciate people and wet our eyes when they are long gone? We should all be thankful to have what we have and to learn to live with it. On the other hand, what is perceived as good now came with the social change that can only happen with that first step which requires us to come out of our comfort zones. Quantanamera....

Eat to live or live to eat?

Malaysian's favourite pastime, beside sitting down at the Mamak's over a cuppa complaining about injustices in the country and doing nothing about it, is eating. This is evident from the ever mushrooming of stalls here
and there as well as the existence of 24hr shops serving death-calling unhealthy food at each corner of the city. Hence, it is only logical that the 24hr cable TV be filled with cook shows. Besides the usual variety of food show depicting cuisine from the four corners of the world, of late they are cooking reality shows. The famous show run by the Scottish chef with a razor sharp tongue, infamous temper and fussy temperament (otherwise referred to perfectionist) seem to be a current favourite amongst my kids. I do not think they particularly plan to take a career in culinary field or plan a cuisine for their parents to appreciate their efforts in feeding them! I think they are more fascinated with the dialogue (or rather lack of!). It is filled with so many beeped out sentences that there is hardly decent conversation as it is filled with profanity but one does not need much imagination to figure it out!

Gordon Ramsey behaves as if the errors made by the contestants are life threatening if they are driving a 100-tonne lorry or performing life and death precision required brain surgery! For God's sake it is just food. From I learnt in Form 1 commerce studies, food is one of the basic item to live, period. We need food to live. We eat to live, not live to eat and life is not all about eating tasty food. There are other things in life than eating. The meat is slightly rare to your liking. So what, you should be grateful that you are are able to eat at all! Even Manoj Kumar said the same message in 'Roti Kepaada aur Makaan' (Bread, clothing and abode).

Merdeka Special!

Only one side of the story... The truth is the multifaceted knife which slices the finder of the real truth which ultimately stays elusively mysterious not yearning to be discovered but sneering at those who attempt to....

A daughter's assessment of her father!

Online edition of India's National Newspaper
 Sunday, Apr 03, 2005
Pages from the past

There was more to Gemini Ganesh than just being a star of the silver screen, finds his daughter JAYA SHREEDHAR.

Last of the Triumvirate: Gemini Ganesh with Vyjayantimala in a still from one of his films.

HAVING lived with my father all my life, I presumed I was privy to everything about him. Yet, there were several things I could never figure out. How had he managed to live with a breezy unorthodoxy bordering on the bohemian, yet have his feet planted firmly on the ground? Where had he learnt the Houdiniesque skill to wriggle in and out of emotionally knotty relationships, largely unscathed? Why did it seem like he was always one step ahead of retribution? How come society winked indulgently at his "excesses" while reserving stern castigation for the rest? All I can say is that he led a charmed life.

Contradictions
Home was a jumble of seeming contradictions. My grandmother's shaven head, brown madisar-kattu and strict ritualism flowed seamlessly with her loving acceptance of the many inter-community marriages in the family. Appa would switch effortlessly between impeccable English, Sanskrit and the pungent vocabulary of Tamil filmdom. He dashed off syrupy English poems with a gusto that made me giggle with embarrassment; yet he had a refined sense of humour that, regretfully, was never exploited by his directors. He loved my mother and quite a few "others" and yet expected us all to love each other too! He loved chatting up the glitterati; equally, he derived pleasure from teasing vegetable vendors each morning into quoting competitive rates — not movie-star prices. He was a rash driver, yet he taught me to drive for hours each day with patience, stopping the day I learned to apply the brakes. He would often watch me at the NCC rifle practice. When I told him I was going to become a journalist, he asked, perplexed: "But what will you do for a living?" Yet, he burst into tears of pride, giving me a bear hug when I showed him my article in Frontline.

Excerpts

Keen Interest In The World: Gemini Ganesh's diary entry and the clipping from The Hindu, August 1942 .
Once, I stumbled upon Appa's Madras Christian College calendar of 1942 and diary of 1943 with two newspaper clippings from The Hindu. From the pages spoke a young chemistry instructor of 22, who played cricket tennis, badminton and bridge, frequented the city's cinema houses and cafes and who followed politics on and off the campus. Some random excerpts from his MCC almanac:

July 22, 1942: ... in the evening C. Rajagopalachari inaugurated the College Union Society. "On how to speak." People were disappointed because he never talked `Pakistan.' Books recommended (1) John Stuart Mill `Liberty' and (2)Thirukkural.

August 12, 1942: Strike again. Most of the students didn't attend college. Played tennis in the college court. Presidencians indefinite strike. Lathi charge... police open fire everywhere. Mohan Kumaramangalam shouted down. C.R. differs from Gandhi. Cricket practice...

August 14, 1942: Went to city in the afternoon with D. Saw "A Chump at Oxford" Laurel and Hardy at Elphinstone. Had lunch at Udipi...

August 18, 1942: College as usual. Students again plan a strike. Very fickle minded fellows. No organisation. In the evening met one Mr. Mackenzie, a Scotch soldier, was talking with him along with Anantharamiah, Ali... and Samuel Raj. Very interesting communistic views.

August 23, 1942: ... Good report of the match in Sunday `Hindu'. (see clipping)

January 2, 1943: ... Went to city with Murthy and one Mr. Subramaniam of Bishop Heber. Saw "Pardon my sarong" at New Globe... Bud Abbot and Louis Costello. Nice picture. Went to Café Casino... Swell day.

February 19, 1943: Prayer day for Gandhiji's fast. Students' agitation. Mahalaxmi Bhavathi gets arrested. So is Bhopal Easo John, D.. and others. Very anxious situation...

February 21, 1943: News about Gandhiji's worse condition. Trying situation. Prayer for Gandhiji's health

March 7, 1943: Attempted some painting. Went to city in the evening... to Roxy with Gurunandan Mulki, saw the "Great Dictator". Very good picture. Liked it awfully. Went to Hotel Brindavan...

November 28 1943: Went to Golden Rock by train and played a cricket match for Ormsby Institute against R.A.F. I bowled and took three for 17. Batting ...made 26. We made it for 3...

November 29, 1943: In the evening went to Plaza to see "Dive Bomber" technicolour featuring Eroll Flynn, Quite good. Most of the test cricketers were there.

Records

In his MCC days.

Appa was at the time a married man of two years while my mother was in Trichinopoly, a fact unbeknown to his MCC compatriots. ... until that fateful day when my mother's cousin visited him. That day's entry reads:

February 31, 1943: ... Mr. Krishnamurthy Ayyar from Trichy came unexpectedly. What a drama! I was in a dilemma...

Appa always kept some record of the day's events in the Hoe and Co. diary of the year, an annual compliment from his friend Mr. Chandrasekar of Higginbothams. The MCC diaries, however, are testimony to the memories of a carefree youth that he cherished. And the boy in him never died.

Dr. Jaya Shreedhar, the youngest daughter of Gemini Ganesh, is Health Advisor, Internews Network. 

Aaaah! I get it now....

When we were growing up, we were told by parents and teachers (especially Sunday schools) alike to stay away from from dark music. How were to know to know what is dark music and what is acceptable. I finally came to the conclusion that all noise from musicians with long hair, loud Gothic non melodious sound emanated from shirtless bands with masks were out of bounds! (a simplistic view of the world). That deprived most of us from the music of great bands (are they really great like?) like AC/DC, Kiss, Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, Aerosmith etcetera, etcetera....

Fast forward 30 years to the future, with the comfort of reclining chair, non-arthritic fingers, the power of keyboard and cyber submarine cables, all the songs that we missed can be listened again and again. Not only that, we can gets its lyrics. Only now can we appreciate its true lyrics. All this while, I thought it was just gibberish and senseless yelling of self proclaimed artistes with croaking and constipation releasing voices!

The following song appeared Satanic to me then with its weird song chant-like Oooh... When you scrutinize its lyrics, it is nothing more than pure lyrics writing mastery at its heights of creativity.


Thanks again to the internet, the alleged backward masking of song (i.e. hidden messages encrypted into songs to psychologically deviate the mind of its listeners to the Dark side). Now, we can hear this back masking and decide for ourselves...like this one..

Bizarre thoughts at a bazaar

And all got me is this lousy 

badge, to tell me that I am

narcissistic! Still better than
my wife's CF (Control Freak)! 

So there I was, on a Saturday afternoon loitering around in an up-market bazaar on Petaling Jaya because my daughter just decided that she simply had to be at this place like this place was the greatest innovation since sliced bread! The bazaar was a collection of canopy covered stalls selling various items that one can just do without, predominantly of dresses (which were made from not much of material, quantity and amount wise) and cute handicraft souvenir items like the one on the left.
 Even one of the attendees was dressed like she was strolling along in Oxford Street for New Year sales in crimson red suede long coat in the tropical environment of Jaya One! It was as if the patrons were loitering with blinkers oblivious to reality of our climate and third world status!
The site was actually an avenue for small time on-line entrepreneurs to exhibit their merchandise. I was just wondering how many of these clothes were recycled hand-me-downs clothes from somebody house's backyard cloths line! The thought just sparked in my brain when a pungent odour emanated from one of these canopy stall as we pass them. It was definitely not a figment of my warped imagination. I distinctly overheard someone in the crowd mention the same (about the odour but theorized about leak in the container carrying the garment, hence the mouldy musky odour).
Amidst this entire bourgeois capitalistic ambiance, tucked neatly in the corner were a few nurses and student nurses (working class?) trying to highlight the importance of self breast examination and (by the way) to support the victims of the dreaded malignancy by selling some overpriced t-shirts for that cause. Proceeds of the sales were supposedly going to the victims (yeah, right!).
The intention of the youngsters may be noble - educating and propagating the news for a good reason, maybe deemed a spoiled sport for being a doomsday prophet, but whether the money actually reaches the intended recipient, that is anybody's guess. Like the tsunami area of Banda Aceh is still undeveloped despite the pouring of funds from the world over, and the Singapore NKF chief was found guilty of using the NGO's funds to fly first class and how the UN casual workers are only good at filling up claim forms in USD and on and on.....
Just the other day, I found out that my sister had been contributing RM30 monthly for the past 10years through direct debit of credit card to WWF. I know that she is an animal lover and all but 30X12X10 = RM3600.00 for beastly animals?
Yeah! I love animals too, so much that I eat them regularly, cooked and nicely garnished, of course.