…but i'm doing it anyways. some of the posts that i'm posting here i've also posted on a blog i share with karen and alex, two friends that I'm over in Bombay with.
i'm double posting for a couple of reasons:
(a) I'm lazy;
and (2) i figure that that other blog will die out once we all come back to the US, and i'd like to keep some of my more obnoxious posts around to haunt me. or something.
it's still worth reading both of them because alex is clever and karen is clever and cute, and this site will continue to have my more bizarre ramblings whether they stem from boredom or psychosis.
or both.
or either.
you decide!!
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
I thought the weird malaria pill induced dreams were over...
…but I was wrong. Today I was telling Karen and Alex that I had a really strange dream that I had read some graffiti on a wall and I woke up in the middle of the night and wrote it down. I forgot all about it until the afternoon when we were in the office, and I was curious what i actually wrote. Alex said he heard somewhere that people can't actually read in their dreams, but they only think they do, and then we were trying to figure out if there is an actual difference between the two. So I was really curious if what I wrote was actually words that made sense, or just babble.
When i got home and looked at the paper it said: "usho gandesha asho gundecha."
Well that answers -- hold on!! That’s not the paper I wrote on last night! That’s the name of the guy that owns the hotel. (I wrote down his name a while back because he had the bellhop call me up and invite me to his daughter's wedding reception which is another strange story.) When the person cleaned my room they must have moved the papers around. There it is, underneath the guy's name.
This is what I wrote in the middle of the night, what I remember being written on a wall in my dream:
"Under pursuit it can be understood that I am a dangerous learner.
6th June, 2006
Mark Fink"
what the...?
oh, I almost forgot -- on the wall in my dream this was written upside down, like this (from flip via reddit):
ɹǝuɹɐǝl snoɹǝƃuɐp ɐ ɯɐ ı ʇɐɥʇ pooʇsɹǝpun ǝq uɐɔ ʇı ʇınsɹnd ɹǝpun
I have no idea if Mark is a dangerous learner, under pursuit or otherwise, but I do know on that particular day I went to a metal show with Priya and Rick.
When i got home and looked at the paper it said: "usho gandesha asho gundecha."
Well that answers -- hold on!! That’s not the paper I wrote on last night! That’s the name of the guy that owns the hotel. (I wrote down his name a while back because he had the bellhop call me up and invite me to his daughter's wedding reception which is another strange story.) When the person cleaned my room they must have moved the papers around. There it is, underneath the guy's name.
This is what I wrote in the middle of the night, what I remember being written on a wall in my dream:
"Under pursuit it can be understood that I am a dangerous learner.
6th June, 2006
Mark Fink"
what the...?
oh, I almost forgot -- on the wall in my dream this was written upside down, like this (from flip via reddit):
ɹǝuɹɐǝl snoɹǝƃuɐp ɐ ɯɐ ı ʇɐɥʇ pooʇsɹǝpun ǝq uɐɔ ʇı ʇınsɹnd ɹǝpun
I have no idea if Mark is a dangerous learner, under pursuit or otherwise, but I do know on that particular day I went to a metal show with Priya and Rick.
my abs0lute new favorite thing on the internet for today
game, game, game and again game is surreal. I just beat it, and now i'm going to go back and play it again.
it's a burroughs cut-up novel slash video game poem slash hallucinogenic angel diarrhea slash animated fever dream from the sporadic imagination of a retarded autistic genius schizophrenic 4-year old.
i wish i invented this. this -- this is what Al Gore invented the internet for.
i saw this on reddit titled "WTF."
exactly.
it's a burroughs cut-up novel slash video game poem slash hallucinogenic angel diarrhea slash animated fever dream from the sporadic imagination of a retarded autistic genius schizophrenic 4-year old.
i wish i invented this. this -- this is what Al Gore invented the internet for.
i saw this on reddit titled "WTF."
exactly.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
26407383 for life
one of the first things you notice after a few days of driving around over here is that all over the city "beanbag" or beanbags" followed by an 8 digit telephone number will be spray painted all over the place.
on our usual routes between the hotel and the office we see the above number mostly -- the other expats can tell you I'm fond of shouting out '26-40-73-83!" a couple of times during our drive. sometimes we see, 32668802, but that's rarer. when we took a trip last weekend down by the gateway, we would see other numbers painted on the walls.
so I got to thinking what these numbers mean. it's obvious they are phone numbers, but why? and why bean bags? you see them sprayed usually on or near construction sites, or on the temporary metal siding walls put up around construction sites. so I wondered if perhaps beanbags were a byproduct of construction here. Like, maybe they have to dig a lot of holes, and they fill the bean bags with the gravel.
and then I thought that perhaps it is the case that these numbers are marking gang territory. you often see it where one bean bag number will be crossed out and replaced with a rivals'. makes sense, especially coupled with the fact that different numbers show up in different neighborhoods.
so I wondered out loud what it really meant and Gina said "what? they sell bean bags".
right. it's that's simple.
well it seems that it is that simple. This afternoon Godwin (the AP version of Daniel) was riding with us to go look at an apartment, so I asked him what the deal was. He says they sell beanbags. “you want me to call them? I’ll call them.” So I give the number I’ve memorized by now (26-40-73-83!) and he calls them up, asks them where they are (West Bandra next to the stereo store, which is about as precise as addresses get over here), how much the bean bags cost (Rs 2000), and if we can stop in and see them (sure, but we didn’t).
Godwin says they send people out in the middle of the night to spray “bean bags” and their phone number all over town.
turns out Gina was right. But that just leaves us with a new mystery: how is this effective advertising? And if it is, THEN WHY DO ONLY BEAN BAG STORES DO IT?!!
It makes no sense to me. But I’m glad that in our (hopefully) new neighborhood I see 26407383 on the walls.
____________________________________________
UPDATE: i just googled "bombay beanbag" and I found my number.
_____________________________________________
UPDATE AGAIN: i started thinking how cool it would be if 26407383 was prime. turns out it wasn't so i googled "26407383 factor" to see how it factored. what i got instead was this page advertising dolphin beanbags (control-F 26407383 to find it on the page):
Do you want to relax -- Dolphin bean bags are available in exotic colours and materials and a variety of sizes. They are ultra lightweight and sturdily built with triple stitches. The bean bags are made of high density polystyrene beans and are 100 % washable. They come with a unique three years warranty. Dolphin bean bags have a style to suit everyone from kids to the not so young. Available at leading furniture malls. Delivery possible all over India. For bookings, contact 9820439364 / 26407383.
....i think I'm on to something big here.
_______________________________
now...now I'm starting to get obsessed.
here's a couple of other beanbag numbers, one of them being the rival 32668802 number. I'm totally starting a flickr photo pool for these numbers.
on our usual routes between the hotel and the office we see the above number mostly -- the other expats can tell you I'm fond of shouting out '26-40-73-83!" a couple of times during our drive. sometimes we see, 32668802, but that's rarer. when we took a trip last weekend down by the gateway, we would see other numbers painted on the walls.
so I got to thinking what these numbers mean. it's obvious they are phone numbers, but why? and why bean bags? you see them sprayed usually on or near construction sites, or on the temporary metal siding walls put up around construction sites. so I wondered if perhaps beanbags were a byproduct of construction here. Like, maybe they have to dig a lot of holes, and they fill the bean bags with the gravel.
and then I thought that perhaps it is the case that these numbers are marking gang territory. you often see it where one bean bag number will be crossed out and replaced with a rivals'. makes sense, especially coupled with the fact that different numbers show up in different neighborhoods.
so I wondered out loud what it really meant and Gina said "what? they sell bean bags".
right. it's that's simple.
well it seems that it is that simple. This afternoon Godwin (the AP version of Daniel) was riding with us to go look at an apartment, so I asked him what the deal was. He says they sell beanbags. “you want me to call them? I’ll call them.” So I give the number I’ve memorized by now (26-40-73-83!) and he calls them up, asks them where they are (West Bandra next to the stereo store, which is about as precise as addresses get over here), how much the bean bags cost (Rs 2000), and if we can stop in and see them (sure, but we didn’t).
Godwin says they send people out in the middle of the night to spray “bean bags” and their phone number all over town.
turns out Gina was right. But that just leaves us with a new mystery: how is this effective advertising? And if it is, THEN WHY DO ONLY BEAN BAG STORES DO IT?!!
It makes no sense to me. But I’m glad that in our (hopefully) new neighborhood I see 26407383 on the walls.
____________________________________________
UPDATE: i just googled "bombay beanbag" and I found my number.
_____________________________________________
UPDATE AGAIN: i started thinking how cool it would be if 26407383 was prime. turns out it wasn't so i googled "26407383 factor" to see how it factored. what i got instead was this page advertising dolphin beanbags (control-F 26407383 to find it on the page):
Do you want to relax -- Dolphin bean bags are available in exotic colours and materials and a variety of sizes. They are ultra lightweight and sturdily built with triple stitches. The bean bags are made of high density polystyrene beans and are 100 % washable. They come with a unique three years warranty. Dolphin bean bags have a style to suit everyone from kids to the not so young. Available at leading furniture malls. Delivery possible all over India. For bookings, contact 9820439364 / 26407383.
....i think I'm on to something big here.
_______________________________
now...now I'm starting to get obsessed.
here's a couple of other beanbag numbers, one of them being the rival 32668802 number. I'm totally starting a flickr photo pool for these numbers.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
rainy day
it seems like a cold, rainy, overcast day perfect for listening to some mellow music, the rain against the window, and laying down with a good book. in actuality, it's a hot, rainy, overcast day in Bombay perfect for listening to some mellow music, the rain against the window, and laying down with a good book. The AC will fool you.
either way, sun kil moon is the perfect music for now. I think "ghosts of the great highway" has got to be my favorite album right now; I must've listened to it 19 times since i've been here.
and again, i feel like an idiot for not listening to the red house painters years ago at kyle's urging.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
don't let the bastards grind you down
sometimes there's nothing like some good ska to get you skanking at your desk.
the toasters rule!!!
and so do the rulers, of course.
the toasters rule!!!
and so do the rulers, of course.
george washington was a pimp
"women dug his snuff and his gallant stroll,
ate opponents brains and invented cocaine,
he's coming, he's coming, he's coming,
washington, washington,
six foot twenty and weighing a ton"
this is what made america awesome. pocket full of horses, indeed.
thanks Alex!!
Monday, July 2, 2007
missing houdini and daydream nation
I love the fact that I'm living and working on the other side of the planet in Bombay. downside: i'm going to miss the melvins playing the complete houdini album, and sonic youth playing daydream nation.
if you get out to either one of these shows tell me how they are.
if you get out to either one of these shows tell me how they are.
a letter from cousin arlo
Tuesday is Tuesday. And today is Tuesday. And so is yesterday. And so is tomorrow. And so are the days after that, I suspect. Here at Camp Happyland everyday seems to be Tuesday lately. Every Tuesday we play volleyball. Today we played volleyball, too.
It seems that life at Camp Happyland is a lot simpler than what I’m used to. I mean, than what I’m conditioned to. I don’t have as many synonyms for the words around me. I mean the things.
I used to wonder, “what was Wednesday like?” but it seems so far away now. What would we do if we didn’t play volleyball? They won’t tell me how long I’ve really been here, but I’m sure that I arrived before Thursday.
I heard a rumor in the showers that the day after tomorrow might be Monday. And if not, then probably the day after. I hope so, because, Lord’s nose, I’m getting a little tired of volleyball, thank you.
It seems that life at Camp Happyland is a lot simpler than what I’m used to. I mean, than what I’m conditioned to. I don’t have as many synonyms for the words around me. I mean the things.
I used to wonder, “what was Wednesday like?” but it seems so far away now. What would we do if we didn’t play volleyball? They won’t tell me how long I’ve really been here, but I’m sure that I arrived before Thursday.
I heard a rumor in the showers that the day after tomorrow might be Monday. And if not, then probably the day after. I hope so, because, Lord’s nose, I’m getting a little tired of volleyball, thank you.
a knock at the door survives the echo of the knocking
“You eat steak? Sorry to bother you, eat steak?” He wears a jacket black and green, sneakers. Looks around, twitches. I stare from my hastily donned jeans and cracked door with uncomprehending eyes.
“Do you eat steak? Chicken? Fish? Do you eat meat?” My head shakes no with its own accord, meaning I don’t understand, what are you doing here at my door asking these questions? Are you with the census? Are you selling something poorly? Shake no, I don’t understand, he’s a tweaker I think, robbed a butcher maybe.
“Do you eat meat? You don’t eat meat? You don’t eat meat.” I stare. He glances across to number forty. “There’s nobody here.” He runs back down the stairs and I clumsily climb back to bed.
“Do you eat steak? Chicken? Fish? Do you eat meat?” My head shakes no with its own accord, meaning I don’t understand, what are you doing here at my door asking these questions? Are you with the census? Are you selling something poorly? Shake no, I don’t understand, he’s a tweaker I think, robbed a butcher maybe.
“Do you eat meat? You don’t eat meat? You don’t eat meat.” I stare. He glances across to number forty. “There’s nobody here.” He runs back down the stairs and I clumsily climb back to bed.
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