flâneur extraordinaire

You might notice that this blog has been recently redecorated. HTML code and me don't get along too well; in trying to execute my revolutionary design ideas onto this blog I almost deleted all the posts and nearly lost my dear old jukebox. Where would I be without the Wurlitzer, what would I do at work?

However, I am not one to give in easily; the search for the perfect layout shall continue. If nothing else, my pageview count shall rise to hitherto unknown levels.

The other day I was traveling more than six hundred kilometers through Naxal infested areas which were called names like Gandu (seriously!!), Kodarma and Tilaiya. To make my strange life even stranger I was listening to Yann Tiersen's album, Les Retrouvailles. The song was A Ceux Qui Sont Malades Par Mer Calme; don't even ask me what it means. It's instrumental, and I only have the guy's entire collection because he gave the score for Amelie. Hmm... It's at times like that when I stop to look for the meaning of life and start to search for some in mine. It's funny actually.

I was thinking, and I have often thought of this while traveling across Bihar - maybe I am the first and last person to bring Monsieur Tiersen to Motihari or take Messrs Floyd to Begusarai. I like to think of it as a great honour and a matter of responsibility. I often think like this. As a kid I'd throw stones right into the middle of a pond or river and be satisfied with knowing that the poor pebble would never again see the light of day.

Of course, immediately I returned to a pursuit far more intellectual. To the ignorant onlooker I might be seen nodding my head, in a bizarre fashion, every now and then while sitting in the car. Of course nothing can be further from the truth. What I am actually doing, is playing "Mo-Dot." (Copyright)

Now you will notice that windows in the car are full of spots. Pick one. Preferably a darker shade. You will find that moving your head will "move" the dot. Now the true beauty of this elite and sophisticated game is its flexibility. You can try to keep the dot between two parallel electricity wires for as long as possible. This is not as easy as it sounds, the wires have a mind of their own, they swoop and swing and sometimes the wretched things will even cross. You could try to "jump" the dot over every passing vehicle or "encirle" each one as it came. You could try to flatten the tires by "shooting" with the dot. Hell, you could even "cut" trees, people, poles and entire buildings with the dot. It's like being inside GTA Vice City, without any real damage.

Oh but my favourite variant is playable only from the front passenger seat. You need to swing your head to each side to move the dot between the gaps in the dotted white line painted on the roads. This one is certain to convince everyone else in the car of your madness.

Hah! What do they know? The joys of a simple game.

I have not watched a movie in so long! Even lost count of the ones I want to watch. Bond, and Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!

But for now I am sleepy. So goodbye. And goodnight.

It was a great song by the way. The Yann Tiersen one. You could also try, Good Bye Lenin, La Pharmacie, La Boulange and the Amelie soundtrack of course. Actually most of his stuff is great. If I could I'd make movies and get him to give the music.

Really Jean Pierre Jeunet (dir. Amelie) and me think alike. I have thought SO OFTEN of the no. of people that would be having sex at any given point. But then to my sorrow, I saw this Amelie thread on IMDB once, apparently half the world is secretly fond of sex-statistics. Also everyone likes to put their hands into a bag full of grains, or has a favourite simple pleasure of a similar kind. I like playing Mo-Dot, and taking stairs two at a time, what are your little jollies?