Public outcry and the swamping of my inbox with multiple instances of the same comment brings the blog back to where it was.
Aside: What did Heisenberg say? No same thing at same time in same place? I think my amateur html just proved him wrong. But hey, I'm not a rocket scientist.
And no I will not delete all the carbon copies of the comments. Let them stay as silent tombstones on my programming grave.
And finally as the crap said... oh it's carp on the comments of the previous post, Rest in Piece and Chait - another click and a window is the least you can do to be heard. Some less fortunate have to actually start a blog and update it regularly.
Word verification will be turned on if I get spammed. And I don't mean by T, V, Tan etc.
Now to business. The Dday for the exams draws close, my sanity quotient as I mentioned earlier is dwindling as is my threshold for the world at large. In times like these I resort to the giants, who before me have been there, done that and managed to write something about it. This weeks stress buster is Roald Dahl's (again? yeah but a different book... Read on) Revolting Rhymes. His take on the Fairy tales. Gruesome, twisted and with rhyme and meter that would make Vikram Seth lift an eyebrow.
Downloaded it off the net and laughed as I read and then some one was kind enough to lend me the book. Quentin Blake's illustrations do make it funnier. Lay your hands on it people, it'll be worth your while.
The usual profound brain-things inside my head started up after I read this and some delving in my cupboard, various inboxes and hard disk led to the discovery of an old poem I wrote. All ye who haven't eaten anything yet may leave for refreshments, the rest of you read on.
Aside: What did Heisenberg say? No same thing at same time in same place? I think my amateur html just proved him wrong. But hey, I'm not a rocket scientist.
And no I will not delete all the carbon copies of the comments. Let them stay as silent tombstones on my programming grave.
And finally as the crap said... oh it's carp on the comments of the previous post, Rest in Piece and Chait - another click and a window is the least you can do to be heard. Some less fortunate have to actually start a blog and update it regularly.
Word verification will be turned on if I get spammed. And I don't mean by T, V, Tan etc.
Now to business. The Dday for the exams draws close, my sanity quotient as I mentioned earlier is dwindling as is my threshold for the world at large. In times like these I resort to the giants, who before me have been there, done that and managed to write something about it. This weeks stress buster is Roald Dahl's (again? yeah but a different book... Read on) Revolting Rhymes. His take on the Fairy tales. Gruesome, twisted and with rhyme and meter that would make Vikram Seth lift an eyebrow.
Downloaded it off the net and laughed as I read and then some one was kind enough to lend me the book. Quentin Blake's illustrations do make it funnier. Lay your hands on it people, it'll be worth your while.
The usual profound brain-things inside my head started up after I read this and some delving in my cupboard, various inboxes and hard disk led to the discovery of an old poem I wrote. All ye who haven't eaten anything yet may leave for refreshments, the rest of you read on.
ARABIAN FRIGHTS
A land lies between east and west,
Where camels roam and flies infest
A land of beauty, a land of courage;
A land of harems and royal entourage.
A place of mystery in a mystic time,
Where death follows every crime
In the Royal Palace as days turned to nights
Here I present the Arabian Frights…
An intrepid sailor named Sindbad
Set off one day and all were glad,
He sailed around, his voyages numbered seven
Each with a mistress or two, a total of eleven
His ship now was a mini-harem
A sign read, "Girls, Beware him"
Encouraged the sinner picked up more
Every time he landed ashore
In time his boat was filled to the brim
And (Oh my God) you should've seen him
Too much sex had done him to the bone
Till one day his ship sank like a stone
In the land of the Arabs lived a man
Like most, of the princess he was a fan
Till the Caliph heard of his desire
And threw him in a quagmire
Alibaba was a young trader
A brilliant guy, straight A-grader
His family though had no sleep,
For they thought Baba was the black sheep.
Sure he was different, ugly and bald
And with 8th nerve palsy, he looked away when called
His teeth were like little chisels
And when he spoke, he did in whistles
Forty robbers he killed and lived in bliss
But the truth, of course, is Congenital Syphilis.
The Caliph sat brooding and sad
A feeling rose that he had been had
The Royal Dungeon had become an open shelf
For the locksmith was a crook himself
In the land of Agrabah lived a boy
Tall and strong but shy and coy
Until one day he lit a lamp
And joined the nearest nurses camp.
An instant hit was Alladin.
To celibate men he was joyous sin,
And when asked "Where's the Genie, I pray?"
He said, "I don't like him, he's not gay!"
In the Royal Garden she as she walked,
The princess was lost, deep in thought.
Her brave warrior love, no one could find
She figured, so what. Out of sight, out of mind
-- fin --
A land lies between east and west,
Where camels roam and flies infest
A land of beauty, a land of courage;
A land of harems and royal entourage.
A place of mystery in a mystic time,
Where death follows every crime
In the Royal Palace as days turned to nights
Here I present the Arabian Frights…
An intrepid sailor named Sindbad
Set off one day and all were glad,
He sailed around, his voyages numbered seven
Each with a mistress or two, a total of eleven
His ship now was a mini-harem
A sign read, "Girls, Beware him"
Encouraged the sinner picked up more
Every time he landed ashore
In time his boat was filled to the brim
And (Oh my God) you should've seen him
Too much sex had done him to the bone
Till one day his ship sank like a stone
In the land of the Arabs lived a man
Like most, of the princess he was a fan
Till the Caliph heard of his desire
And threw him in a quagmire
Alibaba was a young trader
A brilliant guy, straight A-grader
His family though had no sleep,
For they thought Baba was the black sheep.
Sure he was different, ugly and bald
And with 8th nerve palsy, he looked away when called
His teeth were like little chisels
And when he spoke, he did in whistles
Forty robbers he killed and lived in bliss
But the truth, of course, is Congenital Syphilis.
The Caliph sat brooding and sad
A feeling rose that he had been had
The Royal Dungeon had become an open shelf
For the locksmith was a crook himself
In the land of Agrabah lived a boy
Tall and strong but shy and coy
Until one day he lit a lamp
And joined the nearest nurses camp.
An instant hit was Alladin.
To celibate men he was joyous sin,
And when asked "Where's the Genie, I pray?"
He said, "I don't like him, he's not gay!"
In the Royal Garden she as she walked,
The princess was lost, deep in thought.
Her brave warrior love, no one could find
She figured, so what. Out of sight, out of mind
-- fin --
