A Good Day To Dali Hard

So the done thing when you get a code is to decode it, apparently. And the best way to get this done is to hand over said code to a guy who knows a guy, in a dark alley behind a bar. At night. Wearing trench coats. And sunglasses.

No, don't ask me why. These are time honoured traditions that have existed since the days of The Wachowskii.

Anyway.

First, I had to find a bar. Which was ironic, seeing as I had just bolted from a bar. The bar. The greatest bar in the Universe. Bar none. Zaphod had probably barred me already. Which reminded me, "The Bard" was an excellent choice of a bar for a clandestine meeting.

From the End of The Universe, the number of ways to get to any other place in the Universe is 2. (Theoretically, there are infinite ways. Because the theoretical answer to any question that involves numbers is "Infinity".) The first way is to get a really fast car/ship/unicycle of some sort, and gun it away from the End, because once the Universe ends, you're not going anywhere.

The second way is the Loophole. A loophole is a rare and powerful type of wormhole that can take you wherever you want. A supercharged, personalized wormhole, if you will. This means that two people can see the same loophole at the same time, and yet end up in two very different places! But unlike wormholes, which are a dime a dozen, loopholes are extremely difficult to find. According to the Encyclopedia Galatica, a loophole can usually be found lurking next to a "star that appears near the end of anything". So all I had to do was find a star near the End of the Universe, see the loophole, and...

*****************

"The Bard" is a nondescript, shady alternative hangout for shady characters who have been barred from all other bars across the Universe. The creme de la creme of shady, so to speak. The Real Slim Shady himself was the Guest of Honour at the inauguration. What better place to meet Guy Hunosagai, Knower of Guys.

Disguised as a Barred Bartender, I sat in a dark corner of the bar. The position was perfect. No one would even think of looking in the corner, because the place was circular.

Pretty soon, I saw a guy make his way to the counter. This was my chance. Was this the guy who knows a guy, Guy Hunosagai? I decided to probe him. By asking questions. At a safe and respectable distance.

*****************

'ssup.

'ssup maaan.

Ah, nothin'. Jus' the old SSDD.

I know man. It's all propaganda though. I know a guy who says the same shit everytime.

*he knew a guy!*

You know a guy?

Of course man! And this guy he knows a guy, Hinoe Zagii, who knows a guy who told him *dramatic pause for effect* that it was propaganda. By the Galactic Government no less. But I know a guy who gets me around.

*This was the guy, Guy Hunosagai. He had a guy for EVERYTHING.*

That's cool man, because I had some work. Of sensitive nature. The kind that could get you barred from The Bard.

Keep going...

I have code.

SSSSSHHHH! Why didn't you tell me before?! For code, we must go the Alley. 

Right you are, let's go then!

But there's still 42 minutes to nightfall! We must wait. And don't worry, trenchcoats and sunglasses are available at a very nominal security deposit. So drink up, my man!

*****************

...42 minutes later...

*****************

I'm sure you understand why we had to wait. The ancient Wachowskian tradition...

I totally understand, Hunosagai-san.

You know my name! You are no ordinary bartender. Tell me, who are you?

You see through me. I am Pathos, formerly of R@EoTU.

So the stories are true! There is a vacancy at the R@EoTU!

I'm afraid so. Why, are you interested?

Noooo. But I know a guy who is.

Ah well. So, do you know a guy who can decrypt code?

I know lots of guys who can decrypt code. But what kind of code?

It is unlike any code I have seen. It seems to be derived from the Ancient language of Web.

Let me have a look.

Here,  what do you think? 

goo.gl/dsiEt

Hmmm, you are close. But no cigar. This is a later form of the Web, called Goog.

Goog?

Goog.

And you know a guy who knows Goog?

It is an extremely rare skill these days...

Money is no object.

...but luckily for you, I know a guy who can Goog. In fact, he goes gaga over Goog.

That's good to hear. It is of utmost urgency. A matter of life or death.

It always is. Meet me here tomorrow at the same time. With your credit card. I don't accept cash.

Thank you, Hunosagai-san. So this guy who Googs, what is his name?

Hees Thagii.

I know he's the guy, but what's his name?

Hees Thagii! His name is Hees Thagii.

Hees Thagii?! Legendary overlord-turned-philanthropist-turned-axe murderer-turned-painter Hees Thagii?!

The same. Luckily for you he turned Code Breaker last week.

Are you sure Hees can be trusted?

"...he can be trusted", where's your grammar, my man! And, yes he can be. Hees has always been extremely professional. 

If he's the guy you say Hees Thagii is, I have no reason to doubt him.

Rest assured, Pathos. I must leave now, I have to meet this guy. So tomorrow it is then? 

Of course, Hunosagai-san, we shall meet tomorrow.

Cheerio!

**********************

Help is on the way, d' Argh.

Hold on.

The Return of The Dali - The First Try.

*Clockwise. Anticlockwise. Upside down.*

*Clockwise. Anticlockwise. Upside down.*

Hey man, how about another one of those Galacticky thingys?

*Clockwise. Anticl...Well, wiping glasses kinda sucks doesn't it?*

I said, HEY MAN HOW ABOUT AN...

I HEARD YA! GET IT YERSELF! I'm outta this dump!

************************

That was a year ago.

A year. Chasing a ghost.

Well, not so much a "ghost" than a "temporally challenged midget".

I've been here, there, then, now. Everywhere and everywhen.

All I've got after all this is this weird code.

It was carved into the adamantium countertop at the R@EOTW.

goo.gl/dsiEt

Where are you, d'Argh?

************************

Of Signals And Blunders

I don't know what's going on, but suddenly, it seems like everyone is hooking up, or breaking up, or getting married.

A friend of mine was talking to me about how her boyfriend's "advice" had messed up his friend's potential love-life. Twice.

Another friend of mine keeps telling me he's "just friends" with this girl from some North Indian town (forgot the name), who keeps calling him up at 2 in the night to ask him what he's doing. And from there, through the haze of slumber, I can hear them mumble nothings on the phone till 4 or 5. Of course, they're just friends. That phrase has always made me want to ask "Are there 'unjust' friends?". Maybe next time, I will.

Anways, this set me thinking about the whole guy-girl thing, and how it's the only thing that's standing between Stephen Hawking and the Theory of Everything. So, let's try to break it down into scenarios, and try to take it ahead from there.

Scenario 1. The Smooth Hook-up

Guy meets girl. Guy likes girl. Girl likes guy. The universe conveniently looks the other way, as everything quietly slips into place. Some people have all the luck, what you gonna do about it.

Boring.

Scenario 2. The Saga

Guy meets girl. Guy likes girl. Girl can't decide. Guy loses interest. Girl likes guy. Guy likes another girl. And so on and so forth. Their "like" is so out of phase. Like sine and cosine waves. But eventually, they somehow clank into place. This is the stuff Karan Johar movies are made of. I think.

The Best Friend has the best seat in the house. Bring on the popcorn! But, he/she may feel like offing himself/herself at any of the million, endless fights the mismatched couple go through, and then think that The Best Friend has the answer to all of Life's Questions.

Scenario 3. The Crash-and-Burn
Ah! My personal favourite. This is completely guys' domain. Because, I am yet to see a girl who has crashed and burned because the guy wanted to be "just friends". Whereas every other guy is literally a phoenix (...now you know why the blog is named so.).

So, as I was saying. This usually involves painful, usually unreciprocated affection/attraction/crush/luuurve.

It follows a fairly predictable pattern. Guy sees girl. Guys falls for girl. Girl is still unaware of guy's existence. Guy befriends girl. Guy gets "signals". Guy goes for the Hail Mary pass. Bam! Just friend-ed. Or even worse, brother-ed.

Let's pause for a minute here. Signals. The one word responsible for more Crash-and-Burns around the world than bird hits. But let's make one thing very, very clear. Guys suck at reading "signals". In fact we suck so bad we shouldn't even be trying. I don't know if it's the Y Chromosome messing up the reception, or what. But we as a gender CANNOT read signals. We just can't.

Just like girls have no idea they're sending said signals.


Coming back to the point, when all is said and done, the guy finds he's been shut out with clinical efficiency. Still, the damage is reparable. The guy can pick up what remains of his dignity, and make a dash for it. Preferably to sub-Saharan Africa, where they speak in clicks and whistles. And hide for a long, long time. IF he has brains. But, the Crash-and-Burn usually indicates the lack of one. So some of us choose to hang on to that tiny, microscopic thread of hope left trailing behind her skirt hem. "Maybe, I can still get her to come around...".

There is only one way that particular line of thought has been known to end. And it has been documented extensively through binge-ing sessions which involve our Ragged Romeo sobbing his way through several bottles of spirits. Ending with the declaration, "I hate women! No more women for me!". Despite this very-nearly-gay outburst, it leads him on to Rebound (TM), and Relapse (TM). Yes, it is a Vicious Cycle, I tell you.

Guys, there are plenty of fish in the sea. Cliched, but true. Move on. It's less painful. Ladies, ladies. Tell us you don't like us, tell us you hate our guts. But please don't tell us you want to be "just friends". You know you don't really mean it. It's just that sympathy alarm ringing. You know it, the one which makes the guy with a broken leg irresistible. Switch off the alarm. Shoot us in the head.

In extreme cases, girls have been known to employ that much-feared WMD. Brotherification. "But you're like a brother to me!". This is the relationship equivalent of Chinese Water Toruture. It's like, "You're family! Except, not in the way you want to." The guys is supposed to feel happy about the neutering. After all, he's practically family. Ladies, Ladies. Spare us the sympathy. We didn't spend all that time being totally out of character being gentlemanly and all, just so that we could qualify as your elder sibling. Again, switch off that alarm. Headshot, please.

Yeah, yeah, I had to have had some experience, being able to dissect such a tricky topic so professionally. Yeah, I've done my time. And I've come out an older, if not wiser man. Guys, word of advice. Switch off those Signal Receptors next time you see a girl you like. Girls, well, just switch off that alarm.

Red Skies.

Once upon a time.

Somewhere in Kerala. Or is it? I have been here before. I think I have. On a day like this when the sky shone red.

The temple gopuram rises majestically into a cloudless sky. I glance up, seeing its sepia tones light up the earth like a long forgotten photograph.

As I enter through the temple gate, I can see the sparse crowd of devotees making their way around the temple. The steady chant of mantras echo from the inner sanctum. Why am I here?

I see you. A face so familiar, and yet a memory of a life that's so far away in the past that it seems like a half-forgotten dream. Do I know you?

Your eyes are still the same. But how do I know that?

And an eternity passed but the sun still hovered, just above the horizon, as the sky shone red.

The throng of devotees glance at us as they pass by. There is no time. We have to complete the pradakshina, before the sun sets. Why? Why do we have to? Why can't we just stay like this, here, as the sky shines red?

It's raining, you say, looking up. Your eyes blink as raindrops fall from a cloudless, red sky. I raise my palms skywards, feeling them splash on my skin. I have to keep my eyes open.

Around us, I see the devotees walking faster now. Don't we have to make the pradakshina, before the sun sets, I hear myself asking you. You smile, as if humouring me.

You said, I start, my voice sounding accusing. I know, but there's still time, you say, taking my hand in yours. I have known you, from a long time ago. When we met on the banks of the Sarayu.

You told me then, that you would see me again. On the banks of the Sarayu.

The sounds of a raging river fill the air, as the rushing water tumbles over craggy rocks, throwing a mistry spray into the air. The stones paving the temple courtyard are dotted with the remnants of raindrops from the cloudless, red sky.

The sun hides halfway below the horizon now, the last rays of the day lighting up the gopuram. The rain has all but stopped, leaving us both standing below the fading light of a red sky. It is time, you say, coming closer. But you said there was time, I say, feeling an inexplicable sadness. You said there was time to make the pradakshina, I say, petulantly.

I know, you say, but the sun is setting.

We just have halfway to go, I say. I don't know why, but we have to make the pradakshina. We have to. You glance westward, wistfully, and for a moment, the fading rays dance off the tears welling in your eyes. Or are they raindrops?

This is as far as we can go, you say, but I will always be here, on the banks of the Sarayu.

My fingers close around nothing.

Wait, I stumble, as I grasp at thin air. My voice echoes through the empty courtyard.

I must complete the pradakshina. I cannot turn back. The right shoulder always faces the deity. The shadow of the gopuram waits ahead, as red skies glow, and the sun slowly sinks below the horizon.

The light from the garbhagriham spills over into the courtyard, sparkling from the raindrops on the stones, like a thousand diamonds scattered on the ground. Like a thousand mirrors shattered. I look up and the rain comes down again, from a cloudless, red sky.

This time, I close my eyes, and wake up.

The Supershort Story Of How The World Ends.

Ctrl + Alt + Del.

Open Task Manager.

End process "superman.dll".

The world ends.

...Dammit.

We're All Super. Really.

Because, our real lives just ain't cool enough.

****************

Lord Of The Rings

JRR was a genius. Harry Potter ain't got nuthin' on Middle Earth and its names. Hell, even the bad guys sound cool. The "Orcs" sounded way better than they looked. And the "Uruk-Hai"? Wow. And then there were the "Nazgul". The places too. Minas Tirith. Rivendell. Elendil. Khazad-dum.

What would it be like to live in such a world? What would you be called? 

Find out using this LoTR Name Generator.

Smurfs

Tiny, bright blue, and running on seemingly unlimited banks of Duracell.

You'll need a really cool name if you look like that.

The Smurf Name Generator might help.

Superheros

Ah, of course. We all knew it. In fact, we believed it. More so, some of us still do.

All the vampires (or should I say Vampyres) started making their presence felt after Twilight was released. When Spidey saw tiny thingmajigs coming outta his fingers, we all knew we could scale walls too. 

Ah well, whatever makes you happy.

We're going to save the world. Over and over and over again. And there's nothing anybody can do about it.

Do you know why? 'Cos we're all superheros.

And this is what we'd look like. 

By the way, this is what I'd look like. And I'd be called "WingBlade". With the capital "B" in the middle. Yeah, I know.

Robots

Robots never go out of fashion. There's always a cool robot for each generation.

Which is why we're all robots. Really. Deep down inside, we go "tick tock tick tock" and talk to each other in monotones. And then we do The Robot Dance.

Your parents knew a thing or two before they gave you that name. Find out what it really means. You're a robot. Really. Are you ready for the truth?

Pokemon

The future of the universe is in your hands. Your weapon is the innocuous-looking mouse-pad by your side. When you throw it just so, plasma rays (..they're like, totally, supercool rays, mostly green, sometimes blue in color. Nothing, nothing, can stop plasma rays.) come out from the sides. And you become a two-dimesional, anime-d, Japanese cartoon, with your mouth stuck in "scream" mode. Forever.

Super Mystery Fireball Ignite!

Wait, doesn't somebody have to choose you?

Oh, yeah. Here you go.

****************

Aren't we kewl.

DreamCatcher

That bike of yours is going to get you killed one day.

Oh, probably, but I left it behind at the Plaza.

Come on, there’s no time.

Where are we going?

Run faster, you can fly, can’t you.

That’s what happens when people get old.

But you can’t go. You can’t.

It’s inevitable. You know that.

Couldn’t somebody else die?

No, it has to be me.

But I don’t have anybody else!

“…That there

That's not me

I go

Where I please

I walk through walls

I float down the Liffey

I'm not here

This isn't happening

I'm not here

I'm not here…”

What took you so long?

I bought you something. I know you’ll like it.

What is it?

Open it.

Wow. Wow!

You do like it, don’t you?

I didn’t do it! I’m telling you.

No. I saw you. You killed her.

I didn’t! I didn’t!

But you have blood on your hands. Look.

“…In a little while

I'll be gone

The moment's already passed

Yeah it's gone

And I'm not here

This isn't happening

I'm not here

I'm not here…”

We have a long way to go.

Isn’t it amazing?

Oh yeah, we have to do this more often.

These places are like out of Heaven or something.

Yeah we have to take a lot of photos.

Damn, I forgot the cam.

I guess we’ll just have to draw them then.

I’m sorry, but nobody survived.

What? But…No, you’re lying.

We’ve identified the bodies. I’m sorry.

No, I heard them saying they were ok.

They went away.

Where are they? I want to see them.

“…Strobe lights and blown speakers

Fireworks and hurricanes

I'm not here

This isn't happening

I'm not here

I'm not here…”

I missed you. A lot.

I missed you too.

But now it’s going to be alright again, right?

Of course, it is.

Why are you crying?

It hurts so much.

I know, it hurts me too.

Then why are you doing this?

I don’t want to, but I have to.

No! Don’t’ leave me! I love you!

“…It’s only a dream...”

“…only a dream…”

Author’s Note: In Chippewa culture, a dreamcatcher is a handmade object based on a willow hoop, on which is woven a loose net or web. It is then decorated with personal and sacred items like feathers, and beads. The earliest dreamcatchers, commonly called “Sacred Hoops”, were crafted by parents to protect their children from nightmares. Newborns were given charms that were woven in the form of spider webs to protect their dreams so their innocence would not be harmed by the tricksters of the night.

Good dreams slip through the web in the night, and the bad dreams become caught in the web and are perished by morning light.

Lyrics : How To Disappear Completely - Radiohead