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--->The Torquemaster<---Orbis Non Sufficit
2月18日 just in general..Well, last week, all was well and I hadn’t quite reached(or started for) the land of “park ze car with a minimum of two wheels over ze kerb, even if it’s a ford GT, so your exhaust is about as straight as the average twelve year old wide eyed “I’ve just discovered testosterone” guy’s idea of a girl’s profile with his “choooooooooo chweeeeeeeeeet” innocence of not having discovered that such an evil as silicone exists; and constantly in close association with the ground; and women with hairy upper lips and a female middle and old-age population that’s greater than all the people who have Hyundai Santros and their and their “oh look at me I’m drivi…-BANG!!!!” wives and snot nosed kids at whose teeth you can look at when they smile (and they inevitably do, being kids) and find out what they had for breakfast, dinner the last night when they copied their homework from the kid whose parents own a WagonR, or Swift, or an old Honda city, and lunch yesterday, when they spilt a little on their shirt, and wiped it with their middle fingers and licked it off.
Now, a day or two ago, I had called a certain someone
There are a number of different systems, but each effectively does the same job – if you apply too much power for the wheels to take, it senses it and instructs the engine management to reduce power to that wheel, so you don’t crash. Like mobile phones and faxes, traction control just doesn’t work.
If you put your foot down in a something with a “TCS” light, it senses something is wrong, and does what we all do when we’re in a quandary. It goes for a walk around the garden, and after much chin and bottom scratching, it decides that yes, it ought to warn the brains of the operation. But way before the Engine management pushes the throttle to where it thinks it belongs, you’re going backwards through someone’s fence and adorning your back window with his drying off-white cotton briefs with the worn out elastic bands.
Then again, Indian cars aren’t really a danger, because if you put your foot down in a bog standard Indian car like the ninety nine per cent of the bog standard Indian cars, it would simply telegraph a message to the engine room, where a fat man in an grease covered sleeveless vest and smelly armpits reluctantly would put down his copy of Chandamama or stop wondering why men have nipples, and, after a bout of relentless bottom scratching, chuck a few more lumps of coal into the boiler. So we’ve established that we can still get home to our families in time for dinner, safely, without traction control. But why pay for it?
Simple. Any car maker knows that traction control sounds good. It implies that the car to which its fitted is such an untamed monster that ordinary drivers couldn’t handle all the power."Wow! The makers themselves admit that the car is too fast!! I must have one, and I’ll turn off TCS. Meant for ordinary drivers.I'm not ordinary, am i?" See, men are egos covered in skin, and car makers know this. But the fellows in the backroom with the spectacles and the hollow faces don’t, and they’re sweating blood improving traction control. So if you put your foot down in a car which has a genuinely good engine and needs traction control, you get nothing. The engine coughs and splutters and when you need power the most, coming out of the apex, you get as much power from it as your blender. And you crash and die, leaving everything to your wife and kids, and your wife runs away with the postman, and your kids get themselves Hyundai Santros
And when the postman calls up your insurance company to claim the few million rupees, he’ll do it from a mobile phone, and the insurance guy will wonder why his phone rung, but there’s no voice on the other end. And being a sensible guy who drives a maruti, put the money in a trust, investing it and letting it grow until someone who knows the password comes along. or spend it on himself and his family. until he gets ambitious and drives something with traction control, that is..
And darling, the password'll mostly be “old Honda city”. I’m sexier than the postman, right? Right?
J
12月5日 Instructions for use of the elevatori'm conscious there has been a long hiatus, coinciding with a similair one with most of my friends who blog.. reason being we're either too busy or there's nothing to blog about. this one, though, i felt, had to be an exception.. . touche' !
where i live now, for the uninitiated, is moscow, russia. english teachers are at a premium here.. extremely highly paid and everything. you wouldn't have to look very far for a reason.. in fact i suggest you just scroll down and see for yourself. this is from the elevator just down the corridor, which i use daily; typed verbatim.
INSTRUCTIONS FOR USE PASSENGER LIFTS
Before arrival of the emergency service do not try to get out of the faulty lift independently!
SAFETY MEASURES
In all cases - REMEMBER ABOUT the button "OPENING OF DOOR"
for those skeptical of my transcription skills, http://img177.imageshack.us/img177/6559/pc040124bd9.jpg yea that's pretty much all of it. if this hasn't brought a smile to your face at the least, i suggest you visit your nearest surgeon tomorrow to get those haemorrhoids removed. or contact krv. i mean the anna with the big mousche outside the cv pool. ta-ta.
6月20日 oh my .. that evening ..yea, i absolutely realize that it has been ages since i've updated, but my brain wasn't empty enough to think of anythin until now .. which is how mine seems to work, as compared to other (active) ones .. which is besides the point anyway ..
what follows, is absolutely fictional, of course, as everyone knows i tend to be a little wary of stuff like this in real life..esp. involving the ladies other than the few who i know properly.
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the day was a pretty normal one at that, with the proverbial blue skies and the sun and all the bells and whistles that come along with a sunny day. for those who are familiar with the durgaprasad, they would expect me to jump at the day with a "up and at 'em, atom.. ant" mood, but i would be rather decieving you if i had said i was in that mood., for i had already written the day off as a loss.the familiars wouldnt have to look to far for a reason, if they would trouble themselves enough to glance into the hatch where the little grey cells, as enunciated by the belgian with the egg shaped head, were present, in a manner of speaking, of course, for a direct view inside would reveal not much other than the good ol' cerebro-spinal fluid and a lot(i assume) of brain tissue, one would be able to see that the reason for the not-so-sunniness would be the fact that the self had a date for the evening. now the thoroughly athletic of you, my readers, would immediately begin to jump to conclusions, of course, that it was my girlfriend, but it wasn't, the date being with a girl who was my friend. the difference between the two has always been debated, and .. a satisfactory conclusion never being obtained .. it would remain one of the mysteries of mankind, on the lines of the man with the iron mask, and so on and so forth.
it would be pretty normal for the self to do this, of course, but i had a reason for being reluctant about the whole m.o ; the reason being that the girl had what the public would call a "boyfriend" ; the normal difference between me, a boy and a friend operating here too. more so, he was a good friend of mine, in a very cordial manner and so on and so forth, and i would doubtless be a fly in his ointment, or his soup, whichever you might prefer, and it might lead to a whole lot of unpleasantness, to cut a l. story s., if he knew i was meeting up with this wench, he being the kind to generally view a wench as his own, and no one else's if all the mushy stuff was said, done and received with thanks. which was fine with me, really, because i wasnt trying to be the f. in the o. (or the s.) and tear his girl (and thus his heart) away from him, to be melodramatic, for frankly i had a whole lot of better things to do, and the girlfriend, i'm sure, wouldnt be too pleased at such an action.
so that was about the res'. having driven to the place, which was quite some distance away (as are most places) i noted the presence of the lass's automobile, of a korean manufacture. having duly grimaced, i proceeded to make my way into the venue to spot her immediately, looking radiant, as always. a quick glance around told me that i would be the envy of the guys in the place, which seemed to me an added perk. i made my way through the dense smoke and could make out the foggy outline of what looked like a human body singing through a megaphone. i was disposed to take a charitable view of the whole affair, the reason being that the place was filled with arguably boyfriends and girlfriends, or in other words,couples.. and this human outline behind the megaphone was making the best of the posish, doling out what seemed to be pretty meaty stuff about a guy crying into his pillow because of his love getting married the next day, the point in operation being the fact that it wasnt to him. he was pretty concerned about the whole gig, as any man would be, and left no s. unturned to share his view with the present section of the public. i could have done with a lesser romantic atmosphere with dimmer lights and silence, of course, and minus the aroma of chicken hanging about the place, but having parked the bottom, so to speak, and rather unsatisactorily at that, because of the chairs designed to accept only bottoms of minimalistic design, i wasnt about to overcome the inertia again..
she got down to what i'm accustomed to calling the crux of the matter pretty quickly, talking about her relationship with the boyfriend. all was not honky-dory, it seemed, and it was heading nowhere in particular. this reminded me of an incident where my best friend and i would put our automobiles in gear and get out and walk along with them, and which would have no doubt had the folks in the proximity rolling in the aisles, however mushy they might be. but i was a man of sensitivity, as has been said by many, and i could sense that this wasn't the place or the time for it, so i kept the hatch firmly closed, and listened, rather, adding appropriate ah's and um's at the right places, as she unloaded the dirt on my friend. she proceeded on what seemed to be an encore to me.. and my attention wandered to rest on a member of the arthropoda family, what the general public would call an insect. i was wondering at how precise the markings on its back were and admiring its measured moves to ascend an anthill for what i assumed to be khana, when i was suddenly aware that she had become silent and was looking at me expectantly. my mouth jerked open and i ejaculated " ha! ha! exactly. right. absolutely. you were saying?", and awaited an explosion or waterworks at my apparent failure to listen, but she looked at me and smiled, and said "how sweet of you to patiently listen to my drivel". nothing to do at this point, of course to brush the dust off my sleeves and say "oh it was nothing,oh come on " and so on and so forth, and i did precisely that. she continued to look at me, and i was acutely aware of attracting the attention of nearby couples, which was disturbing, because strictly speaking, nothing was supposed to be more interesting than their .. other, or debatably, better, halves. she continued on to heap lavish praise on the self, and if i was not mistaken, i knew where this was leading, and i wasnt too charmed at the prospect of being asked out in a mood like this and hence looked around for a quick means of escape.
people who have seen self in person know that i possess ears like the handles of a flower vase of greek lineage.. why i mention them at this juncture is that i couldnt believe those very ears as she continued down her path with a stubbornness no one would have imagined her to possess. the male at the next table was a neatly tailored, north indian guy, who had the "ishtyle" sense and everything, and wore his pants halfway down his bottom. i would have very much liked to ask him the point of wearing pants at all, if i hadnt my m.o in black and white for the evening .. you get my point. anyway, to continue, there was this roguish looking employee of the establishment walking down the aisle with what presumably were cups of coffee. with a lissomness i had rarely believed myself to possess, a leg was put out and it impeded the employee's path as planned, the result of the whole gig being the employee falling a victim to gravity and the contents of the cups flying through the air and coming to rest on the ishtyle wala's trousers. it wouldnt be exaggerating to say that he wore coffee, rather than "dangerously low" trousers and he proceeded to stand up and enrich the atmosphere with a vocabulary none would have suspected him to possess.
i saw a quick exit was on the cards, and threw down the family doubloons enough to show my appreciation for the stuff that the cook had provided us with on the table and we made for the exit, the self not losing a chance to wink and flash a grin at the guy behind the megaphone who, no doubt thought that the girl whose hand i held to aid the exit ,was not going to perform the act the girl in the song had ..reverently wishing i had the time to correct his mistaken assumption, i continued down to the car park at a high rate of mph, slowing down only when the door was within arm's reach. i turned to her and asked "and you were saying? ", confident about my method working out. she blushed, the reason beyond my comprehension, and denied having said anything. with a quick "oh right ho then. we'd better get out. take care, nice talkin to you " i transferred my weight to the automobile and trod on the gas pedal after making sure everything was om-piddly-pom-pom with the engine. as i pulled away cleanly, it seemed to me that the gears were a little rough, but it was only the ishtyle guy grinding his teeth.
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4月11日 the apple of my i ..quite. the thing's here .. i've been expecting it for days ... after i decided to give my prev white one to my cousin cuz bestie jus got a black one.
anyway .. mm .. its .. okay .. guess it matches expectations ... the display's a bit smaller .. and wow .. its lighter than my 3g thing .. which became a casualty of my curiosity .. anyway .. mm ..
the box : its a nice piece of work i guess .. not as good as the prev ones .. its a bit smaller .. but apple's sorta made a stronger seal .. consinderin tht i cldnt open the box myself. it required a yenna ravi (well, dont ask) and a wheel spanner to open it .. so .. that's an eight outta ten.
the form factor and looks : it looks beautiful. there's no other word for it .. the front looks a bit like its been laminated .. which is good, because it resists scratches. the back's the same polished thing, which scratches given the slightest of chances .. but guess well .. if its protected, its fine. the display's a bit bigger, and the headphone port has been moved to the right... and the dock connector has moved a bit back .. which renders older accessories useless...but on the whole, its a snip. a ten on ten.
the display: the display's become a bit bigger than the older pods .. its a 320 x 240 capable of displayin 65k colors. it does its job brilliantly .. its almost as good as the one on the palm. photos, videos and all album art stuff are disposed off with aplomb ... but it scratches a bit easily .. which means its a nine on ten.
the audio/video : we come to the important part .. usin the thing. the audio quality never fails to amaze me .. the same portalplayer hardware is used in this, so i'm not surprised the audio quality hasnt changed. it doesnt disappoint. videos have to be converted to mpeg4 or h something, so a converter has to be used... which does make the process a bit tedious. but its well worth it when its done, because the screen's big enough and shows minute details per..havent we gone there before? anyway .. and tv out is possible, not only with apple's av cable but a normal av combo cable purchased locally .. wid a lil hack i discovered .. apple's jus interchanged the connections .. so the video comes out of the audio right signal cable .. so .. apple .. don think we're dumb. also, one of the top gear videos keeps crashing it .. and i've no idea why. fast forwarding is not in real time so we're left blind .. unless we remember the time. a nice touch is that the pod remembers where we left the video and starts playback from there the next time. a nine point five outta ten
battery life : battery life's fine .. as long as you arent a heavy user as me .. i keep changing tracks so the hard disk has to keep spinning up to seek the songs .. which consumes a lotta battery. on an improper charge, it lasted about eight and a half hours of audio, which is close enough to the company's claimed life. but charging takes forever because the pod trickle charges from the usb cable .. i'm gettin a power adapter soon .. okay renuka, CHARGER .. fine?
other gripes / hurrahs : the earbuds are the usual stuff .. they sound amazing though i'm not sure how long they'll last . my palm went through a pair of new earbuds .. apple earbuds .. in a couple of months .. so i'll be gettin sennheisers soon enough .. . the usb cable is about as long as arvind stretched out on the floor .. which is useless .. i had to use the extension cable from my memory stick to reach the port on the backside of my rig .. and the itunes installer cd kept hanging in the middle .. i had to download itunes from the apple site and then install it.
overall : on the whole .. this is a fine piece of machinery .. THANKS MUM !!!! for bein so patient and gettin me the black one after i.. .. well, bein mum. anyway .. .. i'm not reviewing mum here. okay. so .. i'd give it a nine point five outta ten. its almost PERFECT. but almost. its good enough to compete with my palm for pocket space. that's good enough.
OKAY, NIRAL? There's a review for you... oh n all of you regulars .. i'm really sorry but this kinda brought out the techie in me .. i'll try to revert back to normal .. if i can overcome the inertia. i'll see if i can take pics n put 'em up.
mm .. toodles. 4月1日 TT Sriram's Band Stereotrip's new song : Pink Something(pyromania)yea well sorry da macha but on the spur of the moment cldnt remember pink wht it was. anyway the id v3 tag is on the mp3 so ppl'll know when they listen to it.
k i've gone off the rails a bit. that was for the tt.
to you guys, my public, this is quite wht the title says it is.. a song called pyromania within braces and something else without ... and it sounds good. its a rough recording, but doesnt sound really rough. here's the link.
UPDATE : SERVER's UP YAY !!! this is the new link. you can try either of them i guess .. but the latter has more probability of working
PS : I remembered .. its swirl .. pink swirl ..
this is not my usual upload server.. my usual one's undergoing maintenence and i had to put this on, so i'll keep you updated if i change the link address.
i'm working on the song, editing and tweaking the sound a bit. i'll post the new one too as soon as i'm done with it.
cheers. remember.. having a geography teacher with a strabismus is not quite bad. you could have two. even worse, you could have one who asks you for help to start her older-than-you sunny.
in any case, i'm signing off before i can unload more trash.
PS : if the link doesnt work, get in touch. i promise you tht prompt action wont be taken. wht can a guy do w/o a file server?
oh, and there's one more thing. this was added, of course, later than the blog itself, after a brief fight with tt. the music is absolutely stereotrip's....and they shed the usual b., s. and tears to make the song .. and its come out damn well. dont blame anyone who wants to claim the song as their own, but they'll have to choose between claiming the song and having their cojones. amen. 2月26日 Guerilla Warfare...As I write this down, its about six-fifteen in the A.M. - an unearthly hour by anyone’s standards, more so because it’s a Sunday. I am a staunch believer in the theory that man should get his eight hours of sleep to keep his brain’s wheels running smoothly..and so I find it a preposterous injustice that I am able to afford but all of three and a half hours. As always, I am not focusing on the issue at hand..the one about the warfare..
Not too long ago, I was pleased with the world in general and looking at things around with the proverbial rose colored spectacles. It occurred to me, as these things often do, that my phone might need charging and so I picked it up and cast a benevolent eye on the display, to find it showing a terse “Insert SIM Card”. Was dumbfounded, to say the least, and restarted the phone about a couple of times putting up with great difficulty the finnish manufacturer’s hand-clasping routine. With no other alternative, I looked at the er..entrails of the phone after removing the cover to find it characterized by its total freedom from SIM cards of any description. “R!!
This did have me a bit “god bless my soul” kinda for some time, having been taught by our flawed education system since I used all-day suckers that SIM cards do not grow legs and walk away. It then occurred to me that the perpetrator would have been nobody else but the dad, who had been a bit chuffed with the fact that I was up late aah.. entertaining, if I may use the word, a couple of amazing frends.. from the tenth..
End of Round 1 : The Torquemaster – nil. The Dad - 1
It would have been all fine, had it stopped at that. The pater went a bit further, and said that I could use the internet only for half an hour per day… and by this committed a blooper – rubbin salt into my wounds… war was officially declared. I must confess that this did unnerve me a bit, but not for long..the toughest ammo’s have their weaknesses .. and by jove, I had just spotted the weakness in my dad’s.. his means of bringing home the bacon(figuratively speaking, as I’m the only non-veg in the family) involved the software industry.. whose backbone is the internet. The fasha, hving been a bit chuffed at the bills from touchtel, decided that he would use my connection for his purposes and set up a wireless network sorta thingie at home.. so tht his comp wld access the net through mine.. tht was unnecessary, of course, seeing that he could connect directly to the router, but since he had to get me to set up the network, I took the precaution of doing it this way, with the foresight that a situation similar to the current one might arise..the pinch wasn’t felt, as such, till yesterday, because my computer would be perennially on and all he had to do was boot up his d/top or the notebook n access the net. Ahh.. the best part – I’ve changed my computer’s BIOS so tht it looks for the boot files everywhere else except where they usually are – the hard drive. The result – an inocous error msg reading “Boot Disk Failure, or Boot Disk Not Found. Press Any Key To Continue”
End of Round 2 . The Torquemaster – 1 . The Dad – 1
It remains to be seen how this guerilla tactics will end, as me and the fasha are perfectly amiable in person… which I suspect might be due to the presence of my aunt and co. but anyway, there’ll be more up. To the few who might miss the torquemaster’s presence on the internet, keep the faith. I’ll be back.
Amen 2月17日 Go....hang yourself....jus go....****************************************************************************************
hi xxxxx
i am from your school
i want to give u a small piece of advice ******** IS A BITCH! stop talking with her ok? she is always telling how great all the 12th standard peopla are all that bullshit. if u stop talking with her u can have so many girlfriends trust me. u may not know me but jus listen to me about this she is a whore and a slut and a bitch and she talks with many guys and flirts with them she says you are her best friend so i feel u are in most danger be away from her from ur secret admirer ****************************************************************************************
addressed to "ur secret admirer" in specific (static IP : [125.22.74.135] ) n all hate mail buggers in general...
names hv obv been blanked ... for obv reasons....
if there's a question abt the relevance of my comments upon the whole thing...as i'm neither the recipient or the victim of the slandering....but i'm not going to abstain....from this...on that ground...
excuse me? xxxxxx happens to be my bestest mate.....soulmate....? n ******** is ............words jus can't xpress it....n the the role tht they play in my life....is unfathomable.....
wht's it wid u ppl? why do u hv to be this way, for christ's sake? u dont even hv the guts to stand up to xxxxxx(i'm gettin tired of tht)? or ***********? do u honestly think xxxxxx is going to take your advice? i mean...i dont know...scum .. like you... readin my blog... but still... take my advice.... n GO GET A LIFE!!!!!
damned if she's a slut n a whore n a bitch..... she is the sweetest girl i've ever known.... n so there !!! on the contrary, you've just lost any respect I had for you.... n yes...i daresay i'm not too far from discovering your identity....n u cld get into major trouble....i mean major....hate mail.. is prosecutable.....
if you like xxxxxxxx tht much, hell, just call him up n talk to him... like million others do? u'd hv a better shot at him liking you back without this...
u dont even know how much this affects ppl? i kno for a fact tht there's nothin between xxxxxxx and ******* (sweet lord in high altitudes...) except for an amazin friendship....which i daresay even i envy... n u mite even be a frend of hers.....n btw... xxxxxxx doesnt need to be told that he can hv a lot more girlfriends....he already does... but one like you....he doesnt...
bottom line...LEAVE PPL ALONE....GO GET A LIFE, for CHRIST'S SAKE, OKAY?
hey....jus go fuck yourself....
you can spread vicious rumors abt me........ i'm not even in CV....n as far as i'm concerned....its enough if i'm okay to ppl who matter......n u don't.... n not many others do......in tht respect...i still hvnt changed.....i still don't give a damn....ur jus a vicious insect who ought to be squashed....nipped in the bud....n
by the looks of it...i did good by gettin outta cv...if it's housin.....losers like this...
n yea koala..... u hv ne ..like gripes abt this blog, get in touch....n i luv u so damn much...n dont u forget that...vermin like this always exists......jus don care....
there is no such thing as anonymity on the internet....so don hv ne illusions abt tht....
cheers....
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on a mobile phone, and she was in a bus going somewhere, and I had to call her about twenty times in a twenty five minute conversation. So, yes, mobile phones. When we’re out of range, we’re paying for a service that we don’t use. So why don’t these phone company blokes build more of those towers? That’s beyond my comprehension, as doubtless it would be, seeing that it would require a number of meetings of men in formal pink shirts and large sweat circles wearing tie pins and shoes with golden buckles, smelling of the latest new odour by gavin clein or piery kardin, bought for thirty three and a half rupees, having haggled to bring it down from fifty(saar.. pathu rooba pakkadhinge saar) rupees. And fax machines. Everyone has them these days, but no one knows how to use them. The first fax I received was in 2 cm wide strips of paper. The second too. And the third. And the.. well, it would suffice to say I kept count until it reached two figures. But did I flush it down the WC? Did I bash it over the head of the guy who’d sold it to me? I didn’t; cos admitting you don’t have a fax machine or a mobile phone these days is like admitting you don’t have genitals. This kinda thing seems to be reaching the automobile world too. Take traction control, for example. 
..It’s been pinched” 
God, I love DOS. But was I satisfied? Nope.. went into windows and started up the linksys utility.. and disallowed any requests for access to the internet with the error message – “Sorry. Administrative maintenence has to be performed on a-ebac978bacc24 before access to Dataone is permitted”. 
Touche 
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