Welcome to Nerdsville

Karl Marx was right, the human species derives a sense of worth from their employment or whatever that they are doing. Never was this so obvious to me as I was watching Harold and Kumar go to White Castle on Zee a couple of days back.

FOr all of the film's not so subtle humour, the naked girls and the exposed breasts the only thing that really struck me about the film was when Kumar treated a pneumothorax by inserting a wide bore needle into the patient's 2nd intercostal space.

Sound's like a movie full of nerd porn? For those of you that haven't watched the movie its a ninty minute extravaganza that could best be described as a slightly less vulgar American Pie movie. Anyways, what really struck me was that the movie seemed memorable only for the aforementioned incident, perhaps to a pot-head it might have struck a chord due to Kumar being a Ganja aficionado, to an Asian guy coz Harold is your typicl hard working Chinese dude.

Anyway the point am trying to make is our reality is tinted by what we do and what we are and more often that not, these two situations are a conscious choice. Personally I found it normal when I was sitting at McDonalds with a bunch of firends and when one of my friends noticed that the lady sitting at the next table had an unilateral facial nerve palsy. The ensuing conversation was about which branch of the Facial Nerve could be injured, some said it could be the buckle nerve branch.. but then how coould she eat? For the buccinator is supplied by the buckle etc. etc.

Even the jokes I hear are medically oriented nowadays( even the dairty ones). For example while I was examining a friend's cadaver for their inguinal canal...i overheard him telling a girl in the group "We should name this cadaver Brianna Banks!!! I found a spermatic chord in her mouth!!" LOL pretty sick joke ... but then again.. it was kinda nerdy at the same time.

Even the riddles that people come with nowadays are the same. Name three similarities between the Vas Deferens and a female's oesophagus.. the answer? They are both tubes, they are both 25 cm long and both can carry sperm.. LOL

Anyways... after that rather detached tangent where i managed to prove that most of Sri Lanka's medical students are sexually frustrated. My point is this: we are what we do! So would that mean that I would be a different person if i had chosen a different undergraduate degree. Would SkullZero be different if he wasnt some online marketing mumbo jumbo?

So say if i were to fail my exams and was subsequently kicked out of med school.. would i loose a part of me? If someone looses their job do they also loose meaning in their life? Strange to think that we sometimes take jobs that we absolutely hate with the reassuring thought of ..oh its only a job... its not gonna be my life.. but are we being consumed by what we do?

Walking in Another Man's Shoes

A concept brought up in Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, Atticus Finch states "you never really knew a man until you stood in his shoes and walked around in them"

So to carry on the tale from where I left off, my illustrious sandwich scheme was stopped by none other than my worst enemy, The Pakistani Ambassador's Son. He saw it, told his mother, who told my mother and the rest is history.

Now this guy was someone I used to hate, he was the bad guy, always doing petty things like that. My view of him stayed this way until I was forced to walk around in his shoes. Due to negotiations between our mothers, I had to go to his house for an evening. Neither of us was really looking forward to that, at least that's what I thought.

But when I got there this guy was super enthusiastic. He's like "Come Come! Quickly" as soon as his mother is gone. We run in to the closet under the stairs (sounds dirty I know!) but this is where the house food hoard is kept (stacks of soft drink cans, chocolates etc) was and he quickly offers me a drink.

I'm like that's a bit fast... but ok. He starts gulping down his one like a madman. Once's he's done he grabs another one and hands it to me whilst grabbing another for himself. I'm like "dude what's wrong with you?". He doesn't say anything but quickly pulls the ring with the snap-hiss and starts gulping.

He doesn't get very fast. "MAAAYHAAARRRR.... WHERE ARE YOU?" his mother bellows. He freezes, but says nothing. We stay still in the cupboard. It's very quiet. He quietly keeps drinking. A few seconds later the door of the closet flies open. I can't remember the rest properly, but I'm remember my visit was over and I was swiftly exiled from the premises, never to return again.

I soon realized that while I got to get to my own drink hoard whenever I wanted to, this guy was denied everything by his mother. It became clear that he wasn't the bad guy, his mother was.

Another time we had an assignment where we had to trace our own shadows on to a cardboard sheet. I remember it was a pain in the ass, requiring my brother's assistance, and we got a good silhouette. This guy, Mayhar comes in with some hand drawn cartoon shadow with a super long nose and bald head... which made him the laughing stock of the entire class. He didn't have any brothers or sisters, and probably an absent father, so I guess either he drew it himself, or his mother did to spite him.

Those days I summed up his mother was the bad guy... but really there is no such thing. I'm pretty sure she had her own experiences in life that made her that way... nothing is ever so simple.

Who is to Blame? God, Karma, or Chaos?

How does one exactly start a tirade? Let me jump straight in to a story.

"When I was a child in Iraq, I remember one day laughing and pointing out that a girl was wearing the same outfit she had the day before. Seemed like something to laugh about at the time. But I was soon sharply told off by our resident Yugoslavian, ‘We’re not all rich like you to change our clothes everyday!’

It was at this point that I looked down at my intricately woven United Colours of Benetton sweater and compared it to the generic single colour outfits worn by my compatriots that might have come from the Pettah market. It was a rude awakening. I realized I had so much more than them. I went from snob to humbled in a single moment.

Shortly after I started to give away my Nutella sandwiches that I was provided for lunch in exchange for local food from others. The country was under sanctions, nothing luxurious was available. This went on for a while until my parents found out and well told me I was quite frankly insane and did not know the value of money. Looking back on it now I guess I can see their point."

So I’m going to ask you now, what did I do that earned me all the comforts in life that included Satellite TV, a Benz, chocolate, Pepsi, Mega Drive that just about everyone else was denied? Being about 10 I doubt I had done anything to win the favour of any deity.

If it was God, why had an entire nation been singled out for supposed punishment? Surely the little children growing up in the country hadn’t committed any kind of crime, yet they were also pulled in. It doesn’t make sense. My mother said something along the lines of ‘the people here used to live in ridiculous excess, throwing away half eaten bread and not realizing the value of things, but now they realize.’ That seems to be a Karma argument, but could be attributed to God.

But then surely looking at the situation today where people in Japan’s cities are lining up at soup kitchens to receive a single meal a day, no longer having a job to sustain them, what have we done in Sri Lanka to deserve a fate better than them? Have we performed some noble feat to please God? Were we collectively well behaved in our previous lives to earn us good Karma? You could argue Japan has committed horrific war crimes, but are those the bulk of the people living in the country today? You could say Iraq invaded Kuwait, but not all Iraqi's were behind Saddam Hussein, he was a dictator.

Or could it be the scary thought that the Universe is governed by a systematic form of Chaos? Things just happen. They are unpredictable and without warning. At any second a natural disaster can show its unsightly face, much like the 2004 tsunami and wipe out lives without scrutiny.

Is it possible that we as men strive to rationalize an irrational world by easing our mental burdens with belief schemes? We implement laws, customs, practices and processes to maintain a sense of regularity and control that can rudely be interrupted at any point.

I don’t seek to rob you of the comfort that your deity gives you, but is that how we go to sleep at night? We justify all terrible events as being something we deserved either by Karma or punishment from God. There has to be a reason for misery, I mean if its all random and senseless, well that’s just plain scary.

A Girl Named Sue (Extended after today)

Dunno what it is... but this woman makes me wanna sing for some reason. Its fun and funny. LOL.

She sends me a mail with a mildly apologetic tone after our conversation today when I was never mad or discouraged to begin with. A silly, sweet, and funny woman. Oh... and she's kinda my boss now!

I'm pretty sure she has to have a mean darkside... SOMEWHERE.

The Art of Lowering a Woman's Defences

Ah life in the sea, full of cargo ships happily chugging along with assets. Cargo ships come in all kinds of sizes, shapes, colours and various other characteristics. Some have bublous bows, long bodies or large rear engines that splash against the water in a noticeable fashion. Nice sails and well applied paintwork are also present on some. Ask any admirer of cargo ships and they will tell you which kind they like best.

These ships carry various kinds of attractive cargo across the sea and as you all well know cargo simply does not come for free.

A Pirate ship suddenly appears from nowhere, a sneak attack usually comes from the rear. A good Pirate always knows to fire his first shot at the engine crippling the cargo ship, leaving it stranded at sea.

Sometimes the cargo ship captain spots the Pirate in advance and fires up the engines in an attempt to escape, or the first shot misses the engine. It is at this point that a fast paced pursuit begins. The Pirate shouts words at the Cargo ship, designed to lower the morale of the crew, to try and slow them down.

Sometimes the Cargo ship escapes, but other times the Pirates successfully stop the cargo ship, either by megaphone or by a swift cannon shot to the engine. Soon the attacking ship encircles the stranded one, firing shots to probe the defences, gauging the make and nature of the ship. The Cargo ship sends distress calls to other Cargo ships for assistance. "Help? We're being fired upon! What can we do?"

Sometimes help arrives and the Pirates are forced to flee. Other times the pirates manage to get their anchors across and begin to board. Now it is at this point a distinction in pirates makes itself apparent. The more common pirate begins to pillage the ships precious cargo, taking what they want and see fit. Once they are done they de-anchor and leave. More benovelent pirates on the otherhand are quite happy to trade cargo and hang around for a bit. Sometimes they even give up a life of piracy and switch to protective Gunboat duty.

Gunboats are pretty plain ships with big cannons. Mainly protective in nature they are often less shiny in appearance and not as maneuverable. However they are highly reliable and come to aid cargo ships in distress. They signal their approach from far away and are very easy to spot. A Gunboat always performs Gunboat duty and captains only accept cargo that is given freely and with consent. They don't get too close to Cargo ships for Gunboats are hard to steer and sometimes clunky collisions occur.

Depending on the Cargo ship captain, sometimes the tact of a pirate is desired. Some want to be pillaged, while others want the pirate to eventaully turn in to a Gunboat. Often though as Cargo ships age, their hulls become resistant to superficial gunfire and burdens become heavier, causing captains tend to look for Gunboats for security and stability in the raging waters of the sea.

The clashing philosophies of Gunboats and Pirate ships often collide. A Gunboat can't really keep up with a Pirate ship, but that doesn't stop Gunboats from patrolling the sea. Sometimes clever pirates masquerade as Gunboats before getting up close. How can you spot these? Do their guns look like they've been fired a lot? Does the flag look like it was hastily put up? These could be signs but are no assurance.

But once Gunboats and Pirates dock at the harbour, all differences are forgotten. The crews mingle together and talk. Pirates tell tales of sucessful chases and pillaging urging Gunboaters to switch to piracy, that its a better and more satisfying way of life. Gunboaters argue that they don't want to, gunboating is all they know and all they want to know. Eventually though all pirates must one day hang up their hats.

Anger Anger

I barely slept at all last night. A simple fact. I'm deeply troubled at the state of my very good friend. A friend who helped me through an extremely tough time, a person unlike any other person I've ever met in my entire life.

This person is smart, funny, beautiful and much bloody more, so when I see her in trouble and pain it pisses me off to no end. I want to resort to violence, but there is no one really to hit, nothing to break. It's not that easy, it's not that simple.

I feel totally helpless because there's nothing I can do. I want to say more, explain everything but that would probably only end up hurting her if I reveal to much. I've realized so much in a space of a few hours. She really doesn't deserve this, but she is a victim of her circumstances that make her the wonderful person she is... and I feel she is forever destined to repeat her current situation. She is unable to break the predictable pattern. She is chained in a manner beyond physical bondage.

There's nothing I can do.

This post is but a pinprick of everything that's running through my head right now, but I can't even talk about it. Even Worse.

The Truth About Love - Don't feel bad people

I've just had an epiphany thinking about the Dilemma of my own and of a friend. Please bear with me, this idea comes to me late in the night/ early in the morning, the time when most of my inspiration hits.

It is my belief that there are in fact 2 kinds of love. The real kind and the hyper kind.

The Hyper Kind:

This is the one we all commonly fall for. Super heated excitement. Heart Beating faster, we fumble around, tongues get tied and that person is on our minds all the time. We can think of nothing else. Its exciting, it involves dying for someone, loving someone so much that it hurts. Its dramatic.

I'm going to tell you now that this is not real love at all, but a madness, a temporary insanity driven by unbridled passion. Your entire being is swallowed up by this. You feel it is your entire life.

This kind of love is what I like to call 'the game'. Women love to chase that hard to obtain guy. Some guys are the same. It's exciting, its romantic, its dazzling. 'Ohh... how can I win him over? How can I get him to see me?' Its that chic flic kind of lets resolve everything in 2 hrs kind of thing. Its cheap self satisfaction, but it is so strong. But what happens once the guy/girl is caught? The excitement is over... and then the part where the real love should be comes in. The relationship can carry on due to established routine, can even get as far as marriage, but it will fall apart eventually, or carry on miserably, or in the most unusual scenario... the two people may unglamourously actually fall in love.

Real Love:

Is more of a choice. It's not glamorous, its not exciting. Its mundane, necessary and not really ever lasting. It involves going on your daily business over and over again.

Relationships are easy when there is a lot going on, people trying to stop you etc, but the hardest part of a relationship is when there is nothing going on, the perfectly mundane, the everyday. This is the part we never really see in our Hollywood movies which instead give us the thrilling on rails part. We never see the everyday part where our hero buys the bread and groceries for his wife or anything mundane? Why? Simply because its not exciting.

Real love is no where as intense as Hyper Love. Its a soft tender feeling for someone that you have. You don't want to die for that person or any shit like that, but you choose to stay with that person for no real reason exactly. It's not quantifiable. They are the ones in your life everyday. They are there for you in a quiet unexciting way. Most people fail to realize this. That's why you have the affair, when the Hyper Love comes knocking on your door, its exciting, trailblaizing and quite frankly far 'better'. Woah... my heart is beating so fast. Its like a drug.

But real love is where you stop yourself going over for such short sighted thrills. You decide the person you are with everyday is worth more than that cheap short thrill. Its not glamorous, its not exciting, but you do it because you truly love that person. Its not easy, it requires hard work. It involves sacrifice, and life changing long term compromise (but not cripplingly so). If your not willing to do this, then your not ready for something serious.

Its trivial, mundane, repititive and its beauty can only be seen when viewing the whole relationship. Any one day will never usually be that exciting. But sometimes we remind the other that we are together because we do love each other, whether its with a rose, a box of chocolates or some other small gesture that neither one is going to run and tell their friends "oh my god, oh my god.... he bought me another box of chocolates!!" or "I just bought my wife another rose... COOL"

This thought comes to me when a friend tells me her good friend settled with what I dubbed a 'nice safe man' which seemed to puzzle my friend. Its because that's the real lasting kind of love. Its a choice, one that you can stray from anytime...the one that requires all the commitment and hardwork. The one about paying the bills, sending the kids to school, doing the laundry, worrying about the mortgage. The one they'll never make a movie of, the one no one wants to hear about.
That's real love.

This post was inspired as a solution to a problem. But now suddenly at 3:00 in the morning this movie I saw a few years back comes to mind and makes greater sense. I see now that it is far more beautiful than I ever thought it was. Watch it and you'll understand what I mean.

Away from Her
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0491747/