This is officially the third time I'm starting this post. Not because I have writer's block or carpal tunnel but BESCOM, which is the single highest authority on who gets electricity and who sits and mopes in the dark. I ended up moping twice after typing two lines.
Now, I know I live in the back of beyond with the 'city limit ends here' sign about halfway between here and the city but the BESCOM office is next door. I thought at least the proximity would mean I have nearly unlimited power. Now we do have a UPS powered by what looks like the batteries they use at Sing Sing or some such but that stopped working. In fact I think half the power cuts are because some rat chewed up the wires and died of copper poisoning. I think in it's dying breath it's short circuited my house.
Note to self: might have to see MunnaBhai 2
So it's done. 4 days. 12 hours. An average of 45 pages of writing per exam. That's a 180 pages of writing. James Joyce would be proud.
Learnt a new word today - to pung. Vernacular slang with the u pronounced like the oo in zoo. Loosely translated it means to wax eloquent on a topic with little or no prior knowledge. Now this isn't waxing eloquent like maybe an ex tempore, it's coming up with an answer. Thus more akin to creative writing. Considering a hundred people wrote the exam for the aforementioned four days the collective punging would give a lot of good fiction a run for it's money.
It is commonly believed that the sudden release that one gets after a period of intense activity is one of the most relieving feelings in the world. It apparently applies to a very small set of activities like maybe jogging... or solving a crossword puzzle and maybe one more.
Waited most of the afternoon for the relief to set in and when it didn't decided that beer and food were in short supply.
After the pasta that turned out delicious, the past four days have been highlighted by the conspicuous absence of food. Not like Somalia but of good food. Ready to eat microwave-ables don't count. And neither does ThumbsUp. My tapeworms are all dead thanks to the pesticide. So a couple of beers, a couple of hours of yanking peoples chains, pulling their legs and generally spouting nastiness like there would be no tomorrow I think I've come to terms with the fact that there is no respite except of few hours of not having to look at printed matter.
I refused to read the menu. (at last count the past four days have seen the ingestion of over 2500 pages of fine printed text with the intermittent picture and the occasional quip - can I be blamed?)
Also had many thoughts on what to write, notably the sudden materialisation of William Shatner, back from going where no man had gone before with a 100 lbs added, in Boston Legal. The strange fact that Dr. Benjamin Spock MD (renowned author of Common Sense Baby and Child Care which among other things abhors consoling crying children and circumcision) would have a vulcan surname. Then again Pluto's been renamed and given a moniker akin to my car's number plate. The animators at Disney are out looking for the man who did that. Redoing Mickey's lip syncing is apparently going to cost them EuroDisney.
The Pope's lost it. Ranting about Islam in public. I agree religious differences are an inherent part of a society that has different religions but Benedict's pushing things a bit. Cancelling Christmas Pop Concerts and upsetting Christina Aguilera or Girls Aloud is a little prudish, openly voicing some thought against a religion is inviting trouble. Any possible repercussion would start a modern nuclear missile fuelled Crusade. The Caucasians and the middle east will bomb each other to oblivion and Indians and Chinese will take over the world. We have 1/3 the population so that was going to happen anyway but Ben just accelerated that by about 20 years.
So dad wondered how people could follow religion so blindly and I pointed out that ugly people get married too. Often without the influence of alcohol. He hasn't figured the metaphor out yet.
Some one wanted to fling themselves at someone else at dinner today. That's the line of the week. The corollary to that is whatever floats your boat is ok as long as it doesn't rock mine.
Beer talks. I need sleep. More when I wake up.
