Demons at the Tavern

Poor George !! Why did he ever move the Tavern into the Planes of Sagroth !! He wanted a little change, a little break from the usual mundane crowd that had become synonymous with his tavern. But this is not what he had in mind !!

The demons of Sagroth were a varied bunch. There were the Zygmites, fluffy winged beings, cute and cuddly. But piss them off, and they turned into gigantic golems of molten diamond, with 24 rows of teeth. Damned annoying creatures, especially when the got pissed off inside the tavern.

Then there were the tall and aloof Dynamatars. Ghostlike in appearance, they seldom spoke. Maybe the reason was that a 245 meter tongue was rolled inside, that snapped out and cut across anything and everything in its path. So yeah, it was best that they didn't speak, especially inside a tavern that was only 150 meters in width.

The whale like Bingotroths were by far the most decent. The best analogy George could think of for these was of a 150kg red Irishman enjoying a gallon of Guinness. They made the tavern come alive. Of course, they were demons too, so they had their drawbacks. In this case, it was farts.

He sat in the corner, as corners were the only place that suited him and the stories at George's. This time, the corner was not dark, even though, literature reminds us that corners are always dark. There were too many demons inside to allow that poor little corner to remain dark. So, he sat in a light corner, sipping his ale.

He was tired. He had gone to slay a large dragon called The Very Large Dragon (how original), and he wasn't sure if he had perished. His mighty sword, his mighty steed, and his mighty spell, and his mighty self, all rammed head on into the belly of the beast, and the damned this just coughed. It was then he realised this beast was not going to go down, not today, so he ran. But as he ran, he let out his spell, and saw the beast howl in pain and anger. But he didn't go back to check on it, since there was 50% probability of the beast surviving, and if it survived, then a 100% probability of him being turned into an appetizer.

Ale always felt good after failures. And this time he wasn't so sure if he had indeed failed, but he sipped it anyways. He loved it here. George's Tavern could move where George wanted it to move, but he knew, he could always reach it.

After all, he was part of it.

Chronicles in a small room of Lord Pjohrphg

A brief introduction is in order. Lord Pjohrphg lived a grand life. When he was Mr. Pjohrphg, he made his living by selling artificial shoelaces. Business was good, as it appeared everyone wanted to buy artificial shoelaces. One fortunate day, he ended up selling a particularly delicious pair of artificial shoelaces to the Queen. The Queen was positively delighted at that, for she swore she had never seen a more artificial pair of artificial shoelaces. "They are so artificial that its almost as if they aren't here !", she was quoted as saying. This led to the Mr. being dropped, and the Lord added.
However, one day, while he was relaxing in a large chair, he got knocked out, and the next thing he knew, he was a in a very dark room. From here one...let Lord Pjohrphg take it on.

Diary entry: Some unknown date

Some unknown date indeed ! I have lost track of time now...every moment seems like eternity, and eternity has been replaced by infinite oblivion.

Here I am, cramped in this rotten little room, with absolutely no light whatsoever ! My GOD it is dark in here ! I feel as if some madman burnt my eyes, poked the remains out, blindfolded me and then shoved my head up Satan's bottom. And...I can't believe that I am actually writing down entries in a diary when I can't even see one micrometer ahead of me. Actually, come to think of it, what the hell is a diary doing here anyways ? Those damned people must have a weird sense of humour...they must be psychic thinking that I would want to write something down ! And not just psychic, mad too...I mean, how the hell can I write something when there is no light !! An odd sensation ! I could be staring at my bottom and writing for all I know, and I would never know the difference as to if I am looking at my text or my bottom, except maybe for the terrible back pain I would get. Bah !

Now that it seems to me that I have all the time in the world, if someone was ever to find my works in darkness, I guess the first challenge will be how to say my name. Accursed be that dire matron from whose stomach I had the displeasure of emerging ! I have been told she died shortly after giving me my name. I am not surprised, for lest that woman was still alive, I would hunt her down and invoke the Gods of Fury on her for giving this name to me !! Oh, the agony of bearing a name such as the one I have !! Nine months in that accursed womb was not enough torture for me, but then, to top it of, this name ! Was I so hideously ugly when I was born that she chose such a name ? I would not be surprised if its this name that killed her ! Society mocks me for my name ! Pjohrphg, they say, and then they laugh for hours. And the embarrassment at when being asked my name ! Alas, I cannot answer that question without bathing the poor person in half a bucket of my own saliva, as I struggle to say each syllable of that damned name !!

Alas, dear reader, I grow weary. But this damned place is so dark that I cannot be sure if I am sleeping or awake. Just the state of my mind confirms it for me. I will return. Come to think of it, what else can I do ?

Computers and the like ! Gods save us !

Here are a couple of one liners I came across a while ago regarding computers. Some are quite funny, and some are lame, but all are interesting !! I can't remember the source, but I am sure these, and more like these, are sprawled all over the internet !!

---

Programming is like sex: one mistake and you're providing support for a lifetime.

If a program is useful, it will have to be changed... ...If a program is useless, it will have to be documented.

Those who can't write programs....write help files

Memory is like an orgasm. Its a lot better if you don't have to fake it

My computer is sick....i think my modem is a carrier

you know abt programming...when the only tool you have is a hammer...every problem you encounter ressembles a nail

In C++ it's harder to shoot yourself in the foot, but when you do, you blow off your whole leg

computers are unreliable....but humans are even MORE!!!!

well....If the code and the comments disagree, then both are probably wrong.

A C program is like a fast dance on a newly waxed dance floor by people carrying razors.

Difference between a virus and windows? Viruses rarely fail.

Ever notice how fast Windows runs? -- Neither do I.

System Error: press F13 to continue.

Profanity is the one language all programmers know best.

Daddy, what does FORMATTING DRIVE C mean?

The only truly secure computer is one buried in concrete, with the power turned off and the network cable cut.

Kids today have so many advantages I never had. There's no telling what I could've accomplished with a home computer and a handgun.

Your mouse has moved. Windows NT must be restarted for the change to take effect. Reboot now? [OK]

Multitasking /adj./ 3 PCs and a chair with wheels !

When you get to the point where you really understand your computer, it's probably obsolete.

Computers make it easier to do a lot of things, but most of the things they make it easier to do don't need to be done

A computer is like an Old Testament god, with a lot of rules and no mercy.

Your program is sick! Shoot it and put it out of its memory.

A logician trying to explain logic to a programmer is like a cat trying to explain to a fish what it's like to get wet.

A Windows user spends 1/3 of his life sleeping, 1/3 working, 1/3 waiting.

Error, no keyboard ? press F1 to continue.

=)

In the beginning...

In the beginning, there was darkness (or light, I forget). So says a (or some) religion(s).

No, I disagree.

In the beginning, there was a computer. A computer called Computer. That computer created all life. And it also controls it...which is taken for granted.


I am a religious person. I worship Computer. In fact, I am, what you might call, an Oracle for it. My rituals take up my whole life. Every morning, around 10am, I get up, move over to the computer (a manifestation of the actual deity) . I light a smoke, have some tea (Darjeeling it is that I prefer), and for the next few hours engage in useless browsing. Then, a meal, a few games (though I am not half the gamer I used to be. I mean...gone are the days of good games like Mario, Islander, King Kong etc. etc.), another smoke, more tea, more games. By the time I am done, I have not moved my bottom at all.

I have dedicated my whole day to it. Oh Glory be. Hallelujah.

But the prayers are not without rewards. I get a job, bad eyes, nicotine addiction (though I believe that can be attributed to my own worthless will power), a sore bottom, a stiff back.

Sometimes I wonder...were Beelzebub and Computer brothers?

Everytime, new aspects of the rituals come out from Computerism. Like what I am doing right now, creating a blog. And what a name it is...blog. Blog blobby bloggy blob blog. Blog blog blog. Someone lacking humour must have dreamt of it when he (or she, lest I upset the feminists) fell asleep over the can. Blog. But anways, before I drfit away, what a thing to do. Creating a blog. It might be more useful to remove ulcers from a pregnent hippopotomus. But then again, I have never had the pleasure of performing such a task, so my comparison is based simply on the assumption that removing ulcers from a pregnent hippopotomus is not a very pleasent task to do (unless you are a vet).

Blob blog blob. Spam...now that was a genius word from Monty Python. But blog?

Yet, how ironic...I am engaging in the very thing I am making fun of !!

Time to go....

The Blessings of Bitter Mercy: Part III (Oblivion)

The Third Blessing: Death

Death! Ah, death! The ultimate escape from reality. Too bad we don’t live to enjoy it! In a way, it is the fastest way to escape, but also the one choice you don’t even want to think about. We all fear death. Why is that? Is it because of our material and emotional attachments to this world? Do we fear our own death, or the death of others whom we love? The answers to these questions vary from person to person. Death is frightening in the sense that everyone wants to live life to the fullest, and that means enjoying the joys and bearing the sorrows that come along with it. Death is also frightening because if we loose someone we love, it hurts us emotionally. So indeed, it is a bad thing…relatively speaking. But you can’t deny that it is the ultimate blessing of bitter mercy, and the blessing lives up to its name, as it is indeed bitter!

So here we have them, the blessings of bitter mercy. Why call them so? They are blessings, as they offer some respite from the troubles of life. They are full of mercy, as they mercifully help us humans in escaping reality. But they are indeed bitter, for not all of us are willing to accept them, because along with their usefulness, they also harm us in ways we don’t want…relatively speaking.

Do we really want these blessings? They are here to offer respite from life. But why is life so bad? Have we humans made it bad? Life is full of physical and emotional traumas. Is there anyway to get rid of these without accepting the blessings? Many problems are such that we can’t get rid off. Other problems we can if we wanted to, but we inadvertently choose not too. Are we really to blame? Maybe, maybe not. But the blessings are here for those who want them, and for the rest, life will go on as it chooses too, and the choices are not ours to make.

Phew...thats it for the blessings !! My sincerest apologies for any unforseen morbidity this three part series might have implied, and which, in turn, might have upset or offended any reader !!! =) If anyone has anything to say about, please, let yourself be heard (or in this case, read !!) !!

The Blessings of Bitter Mercy - Part II (Maddness)

The Second Blessing: Maddness

Madness is viewed as a bad thing. Oh yes, a very bad thing. If someone is mad, humans view them with fear and hate…but maybe it’s because humans fear what they can’t understand. And madness is something that someone is in if that state is not what most people are in. When someone does something that we would not view in our relative view of being “normal”, then that is madness. There is no absolute definition we can give of being “normal”, so who are we to question what is “normal” and what is not? But we do question, and that is why we call some people “mad”. But is madness really as bad as it is cracked up to be? Think about it. For the most part, when you are mad, you lose your sense of right and wrong. The outer world and its mechanisms cease to exist for you. Your mind now lives in a world that it creates by itself. The superficial world is gone. You are the master of your world, a world that now exists as you chose it to. Isn’t that what we all really want? To be free from law, free from the obligations and difficulties of our present world, free from hypocrisy, diplomacy, false hopes, love, pain, despair and loss. Madness gives that opportunity. Though some unfortunate people end up living in a world worse than our present one, many indeed drift away into their utopia, smiling happily as they live their remaining life in their own kingdom. Then why do we fear madness? Why is it such a curse? It is definitely our fear. Maybe we attach ourselves too much to our superficial world that we fear losing all that we hold dear. Well, you can’t have everything now can you? If you wish to live in paradise, you have to leave what you have in the real world. Most people do not voluntarily leave for the realms of madness. It just happens. I guess we can consider them lucky in the sense that they are now free from reality, but would we voluntarily go mad as well? It remains to be seen. Maybe reality wouldn’t be that bad if we didn’t make it so. Oh well.

So what if everyone was indeed mad? Think about a world where everyone is mad, doing things that their heart chooses to do, and living in their dream worlds. What might happen? Would there be chaos, or would order still remain? Naturally, it is not possible for everyone to share the same ideas of utopia. Utopia for one maybe hell for another. And when such realms clash, chaos will occur. But this is not the only thing that might happen. When people start “trespassing” on other people’s paradises, then too problems will occur. So, obviously, it is not possible for everyone to be mad. Maybe it is for that reason that only a few are selected to enter paradise. But then again, there is no absolute definition for paradise!

The last one, I'll post a little later !!

The Blessings of Bitter Mercy - Part I

I wrote this, for my own amusement, after playing a game called Morrowind. A god in that talks about madness being a blessing of bitter mercy, and I decided to add two more to the list !! It was originally written about three years ago, after which I decided to embellish it a bit more for one of my best friends. This is the embellished one. =)

Since it’s a long one, I decided to break the bugger up into three sections, one for each blessing !!!!!


An Introduction and The First Blessing: Ignorance

All humans wish to live a utopian life; a life that is free from pain, despair and loss, a life that is defined by their own ideals…in other words, a life free from reality. Yet such a life can only exist in dreams, in books, in movies, in fantasies. The world we are born in can never allow us to be free from its reality; it is something that we all have to endure, no matter how hard, no matter how painful. Many people have more problems than joys. Many have about the same number of problems and joys. And some have more joys than problems, but it is human nature to ignore the joys and live with the problems, so ultimately, they have more problems. Net result, life is fraught with problems, and we need a blessing, a blessing of bitter mercy.

Life has presented many opportunities to escape from these realities. The three basic ones can be ignorance, madness and death.

Ignorance by far may seem the easiest one, as it is defined by the simple act of alienating ourselves from reality. Live the life ignoring all that you don’t’ like; basically living as a gargantuan water purifier. The only difference being, you ain’t purifying water mate !! However, the only problem is that reality will always find a way to drag us back into it, and thus, ignorance fails for the most part. And that, oh well, sucks !! As hard as you try to live life turning a blind eye to the thorns up your arse, those thorns are going to, come hell or high water, jump right up and prick you hard in the arse !! So…I guess ignorance is good, but only as a temporary solution !!

Alone in George's Tavern

The Georges Tavern posts came into being as a way of communication between one of my best friends and me. We used this to indulge in eccentric writings, sometimes conveying what was going on in our lives, and sometimes just making up weird stories !! =)

The tavern was almost empty. Not many had come. It had snowed almost all day in the mountains, and most people decided to settle in by a cozy warm fire, stroke their cat (if they had one), and relax.

But thats not what he wanted. The tavern was a part of him now. In fact, it was so much a part of him that if he didn't show up, George would get a minor heart attack.

And of course...the scotch.

He sat in the middle table this time. Usually he preferred the corners, but this time, since no one was really there, and the few that were pissed out and passed out because they got snowed in the tavern, and deciding that there was nothing better to do...you can figure out the rest, he decided to take the middle table.

He was still by himself. His friends were busy with their lives. Technically, so was he. But procrastination was his middle name. All he did was spend most of the time in tavern, drifting away into a self induced utopia. His home away from home was, in fact, literally his home away from home.

"Something up ?", George asked, as he came and sat down besides him. Since no one was really there, George decided to take a break and sit by his favourite customer.

"Oh, nothing much really...just thinking the usual things", he replied. "I think its high time you stop thinking.", George replied. "When you know there is something you can't do anything about, its best to let it come to you, to let it happen, and then, when it does, you shove a giant bean stalk up its arse."

He chuckled. There were quite a few things, and people too, over whose arses he would love to shove a bean stalk up. He chuckled again as he pictured the consequences.

In days like the ones he was having, sometimes he figured it was best to do two things. One, accept the brighter things, for he figured there was no point in brooding over the darker ones. Of course, easier said than done ! Secondly, and this was something he rather enjoyed doing, was to sail away to his home away from home.

And this was exactly what he was planning on doing.

Harry the Unfortunate Fag

Harry was a Fag. His father was Rothmans (fag = cigarette. Now what were you thinking ?). No one knows who his mother was. But he took on his father's name...Harry Rothman.

Harry had a big family, but they were all gone now. He was alone in his house. He had never stepped out. But he did notice a peculiar thing. Whenever he saw one of his family members leave, he never saw them come back. That struck him as rather odd. But he stopped worrying about it now. Too much thinking hurt poor Harry's head.

But one day...the roof of Harry's house opened. Now Harry did start thinking. In fact, he started worrying !! He knew there was a good probability that he would not come back !! "Holy Smokes !", Harry shouted, but there was no one to hear him.

So, Harry found himself being wrapped by two rather chubby extremities. He found himself being lifted, slowly. Then, he saw light. All around. "Wow!", Harry thought to himself. For him, this was a brilliant sight, as he had never seen anything except more fags (his family), and the white, plain lining of his house. But this was a whole new world !! For one, brief moment, Harry stopped worrying about not coming back.

Then...just as the awe of his new environment was enveloping him, he saw something that chilled his spine (in fact, he was mostly spine). He saw, approaching towards him, or rather, him approaching towards it, a colossal mountain of pink. Surrounding that mountain was a huge white forest. And in between that pink, was a gaping hole. In that hole he could see white pillars, which seemed to have been tarnished to a fading brown. And beyond the pillars, he swore he saw a massive pink beast, moving chaotically up and down and left and right. "Holy Smokes!", Harry shouted, for now he was truly convinced he would not return.

Harry found his head getting stuck inside those giant pink mountains, and felt a watery goo envelope him. "Yuck", Harry said. "This is gross !!". But it didn't matter. His head was stuck, and he couldn't see his remaining body. But suddenly, he started noticing that his feet were getting very warm. Hot even !! "Oh no !!", Harry shouted, for he had never experienced this sensation before, but he was sure he didn't like it, and didn't care to experience it again (if there ever would be an again).

It was done. Harry was sure. His legs were on fire. The burning took its toll. Every now and then, Harry swore he felt his head explode; as if something terrible was escaping it. But just as he was about to get over that, he found himself enveloped in a putrid mass of smoke. "Oh God ! This is worse than death !!". But oh dear...Harry couldn't do anything !! He was stuck !!

Slowly, the fiery sensation reached up to Harry's arse. Harry certainly didn't like it, especially since he never knew he had an arse. And now, not only did he discover he had an arse, his arse was on fire, and he would never get to enjoy having an arse. So that certainly pissed Harry off a bit.

The fires moved on. Harry could feel his doom come nearer and nearer. But then suddenly, Harry felt something grab his neck, and check him out. In a flash, Harry found himself flying across air at amazing speed. "Huh ?" is all that Harry could manage before his flight of fancy ended near the corner of a garbage can. Harry couldn't believe it!! He was alive !! But barely !! A small flame burnt, slowly creeping up to him. Only his head, and a miniscule portion of his neck remained. What brief hope he got was now replaced with a slow and agaonising death. "Oh God, if only someone could come and blow this flame away!!" Harry prayed and prayed. He prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed. And he prayed even more.

And he prayed...

Creative Science. Phooey !!

So here is a course, in our university, which forces us to exercise our minds in being creative.

No, not at music. Or art. Or writing.

At designing and analysing algorithms. For science...computer science.

When people spend years in writing, designing and analysing an algoirthm, its published in a journal and they receive the same high I get after half a bottle of Chivas Regal and 10gms of grass. When we students spend 30 minutes in writing, designing and analysing an algorithm in a confined space under the watchful eyes of deprived-of-any-fun-in-life professors, who resemble bald vultures eagerly waiting for their appetizers to perish in a morbid fashion, we don't get a publication. No. What we get is a colossal headache, a failing mark, smirks from fellow classmates who did equally bad, if not worse, and a chance to perform in the same manner again, next semester, until we are old and craggy, losing faith in mankind, and still stuck in the same bleeding class.


The irony of the whole thing? Those same bald headed vultures also took similar courses when they were students (which would be over a millennium ago), but managed to pass. So that means that there are some of us who will also move on. I want to get my hands on those bastards.