A tryst with destiny is something that happens once every 50 odd years, they say. Like Haley's comet and perhaps a good hindi film song. That doesn't involve jhankar beats, Bappi Lahari or Babul Supriyo or some other skanky characters of dubious genetic make up. But I sway from my purpose, after all digression is my middle name. Actually it's my first name. Always works are my middle and last names respectively. For those not working with a full deck of cards that would mean my name is Digression Always Works.
If there's one thing worse than a bad joke, it's the explanation.
My tryst with destiny after that little scenic detour is tomorrow. It represents the culmination of years of training, the efficiency of which will be judged in a matter of may be an hour and a half. All ye who feel that's unfair and extend sympathy in my direction I'm deeply touched and a few prayers would touch me more.
That isn't the point either. During my rather long study leave I have managed to actually get some studying done between two hourly mail checks, three hourly catnaps (that would mean I'm dozing on the keyboard every six hours) and frequent trips to the refrigerator and the idiot box. The idiot box of course follows the universal law that the more number of channels the less the likely hood of finding something remotely interesting to watch. In one of these random surfs I discovered that I get Jetix - Disney's animation/unmentionables channel. Since I like animation (yeah I think the Swat Kats are cool, so bugger off), I thought this might just be the panacea for all ennui. But, alas, at various randomly picked times of day the only thing on Jetix was Power Rangers.
Which now brings us to the point. Which crazy, demented, high on LSD or some such synthetic psychedelic specimen thought up that show? Even worse which crazy, demented, high on LSD or some such synthetic psychedelic specimen decided to adapt the show from Japanese TV to international broadcast. With Disney at that. It all went downhill after Walt died. Japanese entertainment is tailor-made for a very specific audience - Japanese. Nobody outside of them and perhaps 6 year-old precocious boys can understand it. Pokemon, Beyblade have taken over the minds of these kids. So much so that they can't operate the VCR anymore which used to be exclusively a 6 year old's domain. I will at this point confess that Takeshi's Castle is entertaining. Very funnily so. It reminds me of the Darwin Awards and of lemmings.
But the Power Rangers... If one season of Morphin' idiots in opaque helmets in all colours of the rainbow was not enough, they now have some ten variations of it. All of which come at different, randomly chosen times of the day on Jetix. Now I agree I'm not meant to watch stuff of that intellectual calibre but I don't think anyone is. Especially 6 year olds. The last thing you need is some pesky brat in an opaque helmet running into everything thinking he's going to save the world. Then they have this talking dog ranger. Whose muzzle vanishes in the helmet. And throw in some corny humor. And some potential racism with an African American playing the Black Ranger, and an Asian playing the Yellow Ranger. Which brings us to a disturbing thought, did Quentin get his idea of naming everybody by colour from the Rangers?
The end is nigh. Of the world and maybe this post.
And the show was banned in Malaysia due to the fact that these goofs in spandex kept shouting "It's Morphin' Time!" And Malaysians don't take kindly to references, as oblique as they may be, to Morphine.
OK it's back to the perusal of the famed textbook so toodle-oo and pip-pip.
