Tuesday, May 27, 2003

Back in Action

So I've been a little busy. My life is going through a rocky patch, quite literally. Climbing, that's what I'm into. Three weekends of blissful juxtaposition with rocks that seem to want to throw you off, no matter how much you hug them. It's glorious though - you can actually "conquer" a rock. And it's a lot of fun.

Look at this. The imbecility of the Inglish language? I don't think so,though the letter seems frivolously flowery, if you get my drift. It's amazing how we long to use sesquipedalistic words. For the uninitiated, that's words-that-are-a-foot-and-a-half-long. Is this an Indian tendency? Sure, you could say so - though that's a standard characteristic of anyone who's learnt a science but not an art. And good writing is, well, you know. Words are just words - it's sentence composition that makes the difference. I'm not a phenomenal writer, and I don't claim to be, but I can write sentences. I don't write to impress, I try to keep the flow going. If you see me use the phrase "banal serendipity" you're either from KREC, or I'm drunk. (Okay, maybe both) It's a dilbertish phenomenon I think, that makes you write mission statements. The kind that go, "Our aim is to generate effervescent customer delight by creating visionary apocalyptic solutions to alleviate previously arcane conundrums", or those to that effect. Actually that one's better than some of them out there. What's my company's mission statement, people ask me. I say, 'Two words. Make money'. Sounds fairly simply to me, and they say "Nah, it doesn't drive people!" So I'm supposed to write a corny line symbolizing my love for mankind, my unequivocal faith in humanity, my ability to have a shoulder to cry on, whatever...so that I can drive people to read it every day and say "Okay, this drives me to....well I don't know, but I'm feeling driven right now". Daft, I say. Make money. Simple. If you need more than that, you're working with people who probably need help putting a full stop in sentences. Hell, there's more'n a few like that, I know!

Tell me why I am not working as hard anymore, someone. Not that I'm complaining but there's this little bit somewhere that longs to work like I used to. Kinda like the DEATH of rats who didn't fuse into DEATH's body. There's some energy radiating out of my personal DEATH of rats that makes me go crazy when I work lesser than usual....


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