You can't comb a coconut flat- or comb a hairy ball without getting a cowlick somewhere- or can you if you selectively ply your scissors upon that cowlick? Another way of putting the same question is to ask if some sort of haircut for private investors (bad hat hedge fund types) in Greek bonds- or whatever- could comb flat the hairy ball of global finance? Presumably- on the analogy of no wind here means a cyclone somewhere else- a Greek haircut necessitates, dunno, say Chinese hair plugs?
My intuition is that there's real obvious reasons why a forced Greek haircut would be a bad thing though it might still be fun to try.
Saturday, 16 July 2011
Thursday, 14 July 2011
Mumbai bombs a Hindutva ploy? Failed Journo- Sandeep- looks seriously guilty.
This is the Kannadiga dipshit, but also deeply dangerous ideologue, Sandeep, on the Mumbai bombings-
Happy Diwali!
He wishes Hindus Happy Diwali because innocent people have died? This is blasphemy. This is incitement to racial hatred .The cunt will be prosecuted. No he won't. Someone will cut off his head.
But what did this worthless cunt mean anyway? Diwali is a contraction of Deep-avali- festival of lights which happens way later in the year.
It seems this lethargic Kannadiga blogger got ahead of the curve, news wise. Or that he thought it was all just so peachy- all his Christmases had come at once.
Still, 'Happy Diwali ? The day after people died in a bomb attack? Really? He actually said this?
Yes. Twice.
And he was cheered on by his claque or sociopaths, of whom he recruits more through his blog..
Sandeep is a pile of shit, and shit attracts flies.
What can I do, what can you do- how stop this menace not to Muslims in India only- this fucker thinks Christians are a worse threat for backed by America- but also Hindus wherever Muslims are more predominant?
Well, I guess I could say-'Sandeep, tell me your address, it will be our little girlish Secret- you wear your teddy and...I will personally smash your fuckin face in.
You and all you fucking genocidal anti-Muslim shites.
Or, maybe, the fucker and his family just goes up in flame and dies.
Act of God.
A consummation devoutly to be ,,,
Vivek Iyer's own position
India is a safe country for Islam. So is England. So is America. You fucking cunt, Sandeep, you have said this was your Diwali- your festival of lights- YOU TERRORIST BASTARD YOU WISH US HAPPY DIVALI FOR THIS! People dead. Innocent people injured? Fuck you! You will be brought to Justice.... urm... eventually coz u probably live in Butt Fuck India and people down your neck of the woods are as crap as you and so on.
No wonder this Kannadiga dipshit aint worried.
Karnataka is some fucking genocidal shithole where fuckwits like Sandeep get to gloat over 'Divali fireworks' in which, at least, his own people not lost but gained.
He tells us 'Happy Divali!' For him and the evil, by so called Hindus financed,. bastards who committed this crime, this was just fireworks! No suicide bomber. Just fireworks.
Hence Sandeep's ' Happy Divali!
Rahul Gandhi said to the Americans- these shitholes are a bigger threat than the Naxals or the I.S.I.
I agree.
Sandeep, the famous Hindutva blogger, actually said to us 'Happy Divali' because he was so pleased about this supposedly Islamic attack on Mumbai to which he responded a little too quickly to be credible.
Who will investigate this little shit and his groupies? Oh. Right. No one.
I guess, Sandeep will be wishing us a lot more Happy Divalis.
Verb sap, Sandeep, You and your Terrorist friends gonna get it.
I will never permit the sort of genocide against Muslims you have in mind.
Happy Death and Torture Day to you you vile cunt.
Happy Diwali!
He wishes Hindus Happy Diwali because innocent people have died? This is blasphemy. This is incitement to racial hatred .The cunt will be prosecuted. No he won't. Someone will cut off his head.
But what did this worthless cunt mean anyway? Diwali is a contraction of Deep-avali- festival of lights which happens way later in the year.
It seems this lethargic Kannadiga blogger got ahead of the curve, news wise. Or that he thought it was all just so peachy- all his Christmases had come at once.
Still, 'Happy Diwali ? The day after people died in a bomb attack? Really? He actually said this?
Yes. Twice.
And he was cheered on by his claque or sociopaths, of whom he recruits more through his blog..
Sandeep is a pile of shit, and shit attracts flies.
What can I do, what can you do- how stop this menace not to Muslims in India only- this fucker thinks Christians are a worse threat for backed by America- but also Hindus wherever Muslims are more predominant?
Well, I guess I could say-'Sandeep, tell me your address, it will be our little girlish Secret- you wear your teddy and...I will personally smash your fuckin face in.
You and all you fucking genocidal anti-Muslim shites.
Or, maybe, the fucker and his family just goes up in flame and dies.
Act of God.
A consummation devoutly to be ,,,
Vivek Iyer's own position
India is a safe country for Islam. So is England. So is America. You fucking cunt, Sandeep, you have said this was your Diwali- your festival of lights- YOU TERRORIST BASTARD YOU WISH US HAPPY DIVALI FOR THIS! People dead. Innocent people injured? Fuck you! You will be brought to Justice.... urm... eventually coz u probably live in Butt Fuck India and people down your neck of the woods are as crap as you and so on.
No wonder this Kannadiga dipshit aint worried.
Karnataka is some fucking genocidal shithole where fuckwits like Sandeep get to gloat over 'Divali fireworks' in which, at least, his own people not lost but gained.
He tells us 'Happy Divali!' For him and the evil, by so called Hindus financed,. bastards who committed this crime, this was just fireworks! No suicide bomber. Just fireworks.
Hence Sandeep's ' Happy Divali!
Rahul Gandhi said to the Americans- these shitholes are a bigger threat than the Naxals or the I.S.I.
I agree.
Sandeep, the famous Hindutva blogger, actually said to us 'Happy Divali' because he was so pleased about this supposedly Islamic attack on Mumbai to which he responded a little too quickly to be credible.
Who will investigate this little shit and his groupies? Oh. Right. No one.
I guess, Sandeep will be wishing us a lot more Happy Divalis.
Verb sap, Sandeep, You and your Terrorist friends gonna get it.
I will never permit the sort of genocide against Muslims you have in mind.
Happy Death and Torture Day to you you vile cunt.
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
Ontology, South Park and the turd in the microwave.
South Park's Imaginationland trilogy solved the problem of Meinongian objects- at least within its own topos- but what does it mean to say that South Park will soon be off the air? Its last episode, till Fall, yielded the Erigenan epiphany that all things that are are shite- turds in the microwave to be precise- but did so by foregrounding itself as shite. But this raises the problem of what doing Ontology does to that Ontology once done. Especially if its completion and being done with Ontology arises out of its being done with itself- like that turd in the microwave previously referred to.
True, South Park isn't yet off the air- and only once it is will the episode under discussion acquire the property it ascribes to itself- but since, in a sense, every subsequent episode will be posthumous and done after being done with itself- it already is because it isn't.
In this sense, South Park exorcises by backward induction its own hauntology and possibility of deconstruction thus becoming truly outside ontics and hence purely deontic. But precisely for that reason- i.e. its being done with its own topos by having previously solved its own Ontological question- its metaphorical method is turned to pure Metatronics.
In this sense, already, every one of its episodes is that Elijah whose return, in the curious syntax of the conclusion to the Old Testament, turns the hearts of fathers to their sons and the hearts of sons to their fathers, lest God strike the land with a curse.
True, South Park isn't yet off the air- and only once it is will the episode under discussion acquire the property it ascribes to itself- but since, in a sense, every subsequent episode will be posthumous and done after being done with itself- it already is because it isn't.
In this sense, South Park exorcises by backward induction its own hauntology and possibility of deconstruction thus becoming truly outside ontics and hence purely deontic. But precisely for that reason- i.e. its being done with its own topos by having previously solved its own Ontological question- its metaphorical method is turned to pure Metatronics.
In this sense, already, every one of its episodes is that Elijah whose return, in the curious syntax of the conclusion to the Old Testament, turns the hearts of fathers to their sons and the hearts of sons to their fathers, lest God strike the land with a curse.
Monday, 11 July 2011
Dharavi in English poetry
Vikas Swarup- the Slumdog guy- genius and all round good egg that he is, has- of course- reclaimed Dharavi for Indglish literature by making it the launching pad for his, not merely politically but also soteriologically correct, project of always constraining narratology to maximise 'poetic justice'.
What however of Dharavi's first appearance in English poetry?
( this is excerpted, it is perhaps otiose of me to mention, from that vilest and most worthless of wankers, Mahatma Gandhi's one acknowledged Guru, John I-won't-Roger-my-bride-coz-her-Daddy-didn't-dower-her-right Ruskin's 'Salsette and Elephanta')
Condemn me for an ignoramus (what? I never claimed to be Bengali!) if you will, but it is only today that I learnt of the infinitely more interesting 'Salsette & Elephanta' of Arthur Hugh Clough (whose correspondence with Mathew Arnold, re. the Gita, Lionel Trilling mentioned to me that one time I accidentally opened one of his books mistaking it for Porn- what? I never claimed to be Bengali and the only fucking reason I ever started reading my Sister's Undergrad Eng Lit texts was coz the only wank worthy writing available to me then (I was 13 and this was New Delhi in the mid 70's) was embedded in Chaucer's 'The Miller's tale' and Aristophanes' 'Lysistrata', not to mention Queenie Leavis's 'Give over with your Lawrence worship already, F.R- no way I'm letting you corn-hole me, you great big poof, so just scrub out your tongue with soap and get back down there coz tampons aint been invented yet and what do you think your Sainted Mom's black pud was made from anyway?.')- anyroad, to get back to what I was saying, it was only today that I got a dekko of Arthur Hugh Clough's entry, on the same subject, for the 1839 Newdigate (not Nudie-gate- as, alas!, I learn't to my cost at the tender age of 13), and ...urm... I've forgotten the precise point I was trying to make.
Dharavi. That's right. We were talking about Dharavi.
Ruskin and what he stood for- in his Salsette and Elephanta- Gandhi, and what he came to stand for after his meretricious commerce with Ruskin resulted in his 'Hind Swaraj', not to mention his 'kindly get raped' counsel to his dynasty's true Infanta- ensured that Dharavi would become a byword for a dehumanising slum and literary topos, or Res gestae, for the gravamen against Lord Shiva and the Devatas and Mithra and Brahmins and so forth- i.e. the usual suspects for Benthamite Utilitarianism's fag-hag-as-consort of convenience to early Victorian cackhanded Evangelism.
Clough- the guy who actually fucking helped Florence Nightingale unlike Ruskin who shat on everybody including his own parents and his wife and Whistler and so on- Clough shows how English aint necessarily crap- it's actually Vikas Swarup's Indglish avant la lettre.
Why? How? The answer is that, for Clough, Dharavi aint a particularly auriferous prospect in Darien but the jumping off point for an internal moral audit- not Ruskin's triumphalist, Racist, shite.
Like Vikas Swarup, Clough shows us how, why, Dharavi is so thickly sown with auspicious stars that for it to enter our 'heart's deep cave' is to know Shiva as Smarahara- all one formerly considered worthy of Love, so utterly burned away, no fatality attaches itself to the Heart's faculties- all is auspiciousness and an eternal honeymooning with Ruth- fore-mother, ubiquitous Theotokos, of Christ.
What however of Dharavi's first appearance in English poetry?
Tis eve — and o'er the face of parting day
Quick smiles of summer lightning flit and play,
In pulses of broad light, less seen than felt,
They mix in heaven, and on the mountains melt,
Their silent transport fills th' exulting air —
'Tis eve, and where is evening half so fair ?
Oh, deeply, softly, sobs the Indian sea
O'er thy dark sands, majestic Dharavee
( this is excerpted, it is perhaps otiose of me to mention, from that vilest and most worthless of wankers, Mahatma Gandhi's one acknowledged Guru, John I-won't-Roger-my-bride-coz-her-Daddy-didn't-dower-her-right Ruskin's 'Salsette and Elephanta')
Condemn me for an ignoramus (what? I never claimed to be Bengali!) if you will, but it is only today that I learnt of the infinitely more interesting 'Salsette & Elephanta' of Arthur Hugh Clough (whose correspondence with Mathew Arnold, re. the Gita, Lionel Trilling mentioned to me that one time I accidentally opened one of his books mistaking it for Porn- what? I never claimed to be Bengali and the only fucking reason I ever started reading my Sister's Undergrad Eng Lit texts was coz the only wank worthy writing available to me then (I was 13 and this was New Delhi in the mid 70's) was embedded in Chaucer's 'The Miller's tale' and Aristophanes' 'Lysistrata', not to mention Queenie Leavis's 'Give over with your Lawrence worship already, F.R- no way I'm letting you corn-hole me, you great big poof, so just scrub out your tongue with soap and get back down there coz tampons aint been invented yet and what do you think your Sainted Mom's black pud was made from anyway?.')- anyroad, to get back to what I was saying, it was only today that I got a dekko of Arthur Hugh Clough's entry, on the same subject, for the 1839 Newdigate (not Nudie-gate- as, alas!, I learn't to my cost at the tender age of 13), and ...urm... I've forgotten the precise point I was trying to make.
Dharavi. That's right. We were talking about Dharavi.
Ruskin and what he stood for- in his Salsette and Elephanta- Gandhi, and what he came to stand for after his meretricious commerce with Ruskin resulted in his 'Hind Swaraj', not to mention his 'kindly get raped' counsel to his dynasty's true Infanta- ensured that Dharavi would become a byword for a dehumanising slum and literary topos, or Res gestae, for the gravamen against Lord Shiva and the Devatas and Mithra and Brahmins and so forth- i.e. the usual suspects for Benthamite Utilitarianism's fag-hag-as-consort of convenience to early Victorian cackhanded Evangelism.
Clough- the guy who actually fucking helped Florence Nightingale unlike Ruskin who shat on everybody including his own parents and his wife and Whistler and so on- Clough shows how English aint necessarily crap- it's actually Vikas Swarup's Indglish avant la lettre.
Why? How? The answer is that, for Clough, Dharavi aint a particularly auriferous prospect in Darien but the jumping off point for an internal moral audit- not Ruskin's triumphalist, Racist, shite.
Like Vikas Swarup, Clough shows us how, why, Dharavi is so thickly sown with auspicious stars that for it to enter our 'heart's deep cave' is to know Shiva as Smarahara- all one formerly considered worthy of Love, so utterly burned away, no fatality attaches itself to the Heart's faculties- all is auspiciousness and an eternal honeymooning with Ruth- fore-mother, ubiquitous Theotokos, of Christ.
Ahmed Ghazzali's causationless aetiology
There's a wonderful translation of the Savaanih here which got me wondering whether there might be a specifically Sufi esoteric orthopraxy- parallel to Ashari Occassionalist orthodoxy- which we ought to bear in mind while savouring a Ghazal's 'husn-e-talil' (beauty in poetic aetiology).
The hackneyed way to do this would be to gas on about teleology and the 'medieval mind- final causes, allegory, highly correlated systems, blah, blah, blah.
The trouble is, Ghazali's Lebenswelt was, in many ways, more sophisticated and urbane than my benighted intellectual coolie-dom in which all efficient causes are occluded by Media pi-jaw or Managementspeak or User Interfaces specially designed for morons almost as stupid as myself.
What, then, would a causationless aetiology cash out as for a bloke like me? Like most people of my generation,I think of emotions as 'Darwinian algorithms of the mind' and even efficient causes as arising out of a sort of Anthropic Selection Principle operating across a fitness landscape of Multiverses with different fundamental Laws or constants. Thus, to get away from efficient causes and glimpse the lifted horizon offered by causationless aetiology, is essentially (in Hindu terms) to escape Prakriti and seek to adopt the viewpoint of Purusha. The Ghazal then becomes not a trivialising 'talking to women' but talking to Prakriti.
Since, in our Weltenshaung, efficient causes gain efficacy by having been selected for, husn-e-taleel becomes the last word in pathos as that all puissant 'tyrant' is proven to be nothing but a series of snapshots in the mirror whose temporal existence is virtual and imaginary.
For which, needless to say, I blame David Cameron.
That boy aint right.
The hackneyed way to do this would be to gas on about teleology and the 'medieval mind- final causes, allegory, highly correlated systems, blah, blah, blah.
The trouble is, Ghazali's Lebenswelt was, in many ways, more sophisticated and urbane than my benighted intellectual coolie-dom in which all efficient causes are occluded by Media pi-jaw or Managementspeak or User Interfaces specially designed for morons almost as stupid as myself.
What, then, would a causationless aetiology cash out as for a bloke like me? Like most people of my generation,I think of emotions as 'Darwinian algorithms of the mind' and even efficient causes as arising out of a sort of Anthropic Selection Principle operating across a fitness landscape of Multiverses with different fundamental Laws or constants. Thus, to get away from efficient causes and glimpse the lifted horizon offered by causationless aetiology, is essentially (in Hindu terms) to escape Prakriti and seek to adopt the viewpoint of Purusha. The Ghazal then becomes not a trivialising 'talking to women' but talking to Prakriti.
Since, in our Weltenshaung, efficient causes gain efficacy by having been selected for, husn-e-taleel becomes the last word in pathos as that all puissant 'tyrant' is proven to be nothing but a series of snapshots in the mirror whose temporal existence is virtual and imaginary.
For which, needless to say, I blame David Cameron.
That boy aint right.
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Higher Orders of Nothingness
First order Nothingness is the existence of Nothing. Second order Nothingness is the impossibility of the existence of something rather than Nothing. Third order Nothingness is the unimaginability of impossible types of existences as alternatives to Nothingness. Fourth order Nothingness is...urm...Rahul Gandhi's politics? No. Natural numbers don't actually run high enough to express that ultimate nullity.
Saturday, 2 July 2011
10 top tips for mastering micturation from Fortune 500 Managers
1) Delegate
2) Okay, delegating was a real bad idea. Hire McKinsey.
3) Fire McKinsey- micturation aint mission critical but more of a P.R thing
4) Hire Hill & Knowlton
5) Okay, so we've fired Hill & Knowlton but how're we gonna get the smell off the carpets?
6) Hire McKinsey to get the smell off the carpets.
7) Okay, so we've fired McKinsey but how're we gonna get the smell off the carpet which they went and spread onto the drapes?
8) Endow a Chair in Mastering Micturation at Duke
9) It's a Chair, for fuck's sake, not a seat on the N.Y subway for bums to pee all over!
10) Ask Congress for a bailout and blame the Chinese.
2) Okay, delegating was a real bad idea. Hire McKinsey.
3) Fire McKinsey- micturation aint mission critical but more of a P.R thing
4) Hire Hill & Knowlton
5) Okay, so we've fired Hill & Knowlton but how're we gonna get the smell off the carpets?
6) Hire McKinsey to get the smell off the carpets.
7) Okay, so we've fired McKinsey but how're we gonna get the smell off the carpet which they went and spread onto the drapes?
8) Endow a Chair in Mastering Micturation at Duke
9) It's a Chair, for fuck's sake, not a seat on the N.Y subway for bums to pee all over!
10) Ask Congress for a bailout and blame the Chinese.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)