Mahinda: Bandaranaike For A New Generation

Muse

Do you remember a certain chap called Solomon West Ridgeway Dias Bandaranaike? Nice old fella, so intent on servicing, I'm sorry I mean serving his country that he converted to Buddhism so he could win votes. He then broke away from the UNP and went on to become Prime Minister with his newly formed Sri Lanka Freedom Party.

Oh, and before I forget, he did it on the platform of the Sinhala Only in 24 Hours promise. A minor thing of course, but worth mentioning I think.

And now we have Mahinda, (aka The Beast) who is the SWRD for the new generation.

When SWRD came into power he came in saying that the Sri Lanka was a Sinhalese nation and that he would make Sinhala the official language in 24 hours. It took a bit longer than that, but the Sinhalese majority, stupid fucks that they are, voted them in, resulting in the The Ceylon (Constitution) Order in Council. we should hope they were happy. And I also hope that those who voted for this act can now see what pain the country is going through because of them.

In 2005, The Beast went vote hunting. His primary platform was that he would win the war. The civil war that we have been facing for the last 30-something years. The one that we have been dealing with since SWRD decided that he could waltz into power by catering to the brain-dead masses. In fact, he did the same thing that The Beast did 50 years later.

Of course he couldn't do it alone this time. He managed to use some of his ill-gotten gains from the Helping Hambantota fund and paid off the LTTE in order to ensure that Tamil voting would be suppressed. There was another benefit to the LTTE too. A government which is willing to go to war would mean a renewal of the conflict. And when you have a conflict going, you can get more support. More aid. And not to mention more offers of help if the two of you would just stop fighting. War and conflict is big business.

So the Tamil people, many of whom would have voted against The Beast and his pro-war stance were not allowed to vote. And he managed to barely squeak in by just over 180,000 votes. Which wasn't what SWRD did, but he got in didn't he?

And so, like SWRD initiated Sinhala Only, Mahinda starts the war. He blames it on the LTTE and their closing of the Mavil Aru canal. The LTTE blames it on the LKGOV not giving them the aid that was supposed to go to the people of the area. The point is, that both sides were spoiling for a war, and a war was what we got.

This war was brought on to us by a politician willing to sacrifice the people and prosperity of the country for his own political gain. SWRD sacrificed the stability of the country by creating Sinhala Only, and The Beast did so by restarting a war and sacrificing the lives of millions.

Now its time to cue the people screaming but we're going to win the war!!

I know. We are. But the Sinhala Only Act didn't create the LTTE until close onto 20 years later. And it will take less time than that for the actions of The Beast to bear fruit.

Already the people are screaming for Sinhala majority privilege. The JVP is already screaming that since the war has been won by the Sinhalese, there is no necessity to give anything to the Tamils.

The problem with the JVP is that they are a good barometer of how the common man thinks. I don't think they are the voice of the common man, but they are very good at saying things that will be palatable and even attractive to the unwashed masses. If the JVP is saying this, its a good bet that there are many people who are thinking this.

So The Beast started a war. He wants to go down in history as the person who ended the LTTE. But will this be the end?

SWRD wanted to be known as the person who made the Sinhalese the top of the Sri Lankan food chain. It was due to his actions that we are where we are right now.

Unfortunately my crystal ball is broken. So we'll have to wait for history to happen before we can say what the consequences of The Beast's actions are.

And the problem with history is that we all have to suffer through it until it gets done.

Corpse Hunting

Muse

I went looking for a corpse today.

My friend Daniel had not been seen in two weeks, and we were all starting to be a bit worried about the guy. After all, the fucker drives around in a little 49cc mosquito bike. So when the Emmster called a search for him because we hadn't seen the fucker in close onto 2 weeks, and his facebook account didn't show any activity, we started worrying about where he was.

This morning, Emmster and Razzle asked if I could come to the Colombo General hospital to see if he was there, how could I refuse?

So I went off to Colombo General to see if the guy had been admitted, and I, of course, had a tough time convincing them to let me in with my laptop and my camera in my bag. I'm used to this. So it really didn't bother me much.

When I finally did get inside with Emm and Razz we went to the Inquiries desk and found that no one like Daniel had been brought in during the past week. But we were told, that since we were in the area, we should try the mortuary.

*gulp*

The fucking mortuary!

Yes, we debated it for a bit, but we finally agreed that we should go, just in case.

So we went to the mortuary and spoke to the cops there, and there were three bodies that had not been identified. I asked if i could see them. They agreed, and off we went to do body hunting.

When we went, the Emmster, bless her heart, wanted to come and see it with me. Trauma shared is trauma halved, she said. But somehow, I couldn't be anything but macho and I asked her to stay outside.

So I went and saw the bodies.

When I thought of the morgue I first thought CSI/24/X-Files kind of morgue. All stainless steel, and drawers, and antiseptic. Then I realised this was Sri Lanka, and the morgue was probably built in Colonial times, and started hoping for old-school freezers with ceramic tiles.

What I got, however, was a pile of bodies, many of them desiccated by the freezing in a 40foot refrigerated container. That's it. A literal pile of corpses. Many of them had the skulls open and the brains removed and the halves of the skulls were hanging on by strips of skin. The smell was, not too bad I guess. Either that, or my brain was so traumatised I had no idea what the hell was going on.

Now I've seen some horrendous stuff in my time. The '83 riots, the '89 JVP time, various accidents and stuff have left me pretty inured to it. But there was something really disturbing about a pile of corpses. I still can see the half-rotted and desiccated leg that was sticking out of the bottom of the pile. It wasn't freaky but it did disturb me quite a bit.

Then I went and had lunch. And beer.

Postscript:

Soon after publishing this we found that our friend was alive and well. That he was merely sick and not in the mood to talk to anyone. He will not be alive for much longer after I get my hands on him.

Oh the twitteration

Muse

I'm sure all of you have heard of twitter. If not, I guess Wikipedia will tell you more. Basically, for those of you who don't want to follow the links, it is a way of sending a status message to people who are following you. Remember status messages? They started off on Instant Messaging clients, and worked their way out from there. Even on IM clients, status messages were initially a way of saying, I'm not here or something equally innocuous. They soon became messages on how you were feeling and what you were doing. This trend soon spread. Forum status messages, MySpace, FaceBook. They all had status messages. Then came twitter.

FaceBook, MySpace, and LiveJournal made status messages a viable messaging format for many people. Status messages have become a way to add context to a person's actions. FaceBook status messages have been used in court cases to throw the case out, or to get the punishment increased.

Twitter enables and facilitates what is known as microblogging. It's like blogging on speed. Or blogging hors d'oevres. Small bites abut lots of them.

But I tried very hard to stay away from it. Twitter, and it's partner word tweeting was not for me. I prefer to write blogs. Of course, there have been many people who asked me, why are you not on twitter? That way we can know where you are and what you're doing.

For many of them I would use an illustration. I talk about what tweets could be like. And once, during one of the training sessions, I used Chanux's twitter account to prove it.

I need to shit

I'm in the bathroom

*urrrrggghhh*

*plop*

*ploplop*

*thbpthbpthbrrrrt

That was a shit of truly epic proportions.

It's fucking huge!

*flush*

You get the idea.

But twitter has its advantages. When I was in an accident, Chanux and Seejay were updating people about me using twitter. So they were very happy to hear that I would be on twitter. After all they were pushing me to get on the bandwagon for a while now.

But then one day Seejay told me something interesting. He was wondering if he could get updates on when my blog was updated using twitter. Now that was an interesting idea. Very interesting. After all, this blog is on Kottu and Feedburner. The goal is to make it easier for people to hear me screaming and shouting. So I went looking for a solution and found twitterfeed.

So now I'm on twitter. If you start following me, you can start getting updates on your twitter. But please be warned, I don't twitter. So all you'll get are updates from my blog feed, and I probably won't be reading anything that you send me via twitter.

tweet

Free Hugs

Muse

I've been going for a yoga/acting/lifestyle class for the last few days. It's organised by Abhina Academy. It's the same crew I used to go for yoga with, and I do enjoy hanging with them.

I'll write more about it soon, this was just my third day, and I want to write about something else.

I want to write about Free Hugs. Well, kind of.

Now if you want to learn the backstory of free hugs, or learn more about Free Hugs, follow the links. They will lead you to relevant Wikipedia article and the Free Hugs websites.

The guys and girls in the class heard about free hugs during a speech/seminar/training session about mental and physical health. Now, I must admit, I didn't agree with all that the person said. I personally he was pushing his idea of morality instead of the idea of mental health. But that was just part of it. Sometimes, you learn something new or interesting even in the middle of what you don't agree with. And that is why its worth exposing yourself to everything.

One of the guys there suggested a hugging session. Basically that we would hug each other. All of us. And the weird part is, I was one of those that held back.

Now those of you who know me, know that I am not usually one to hold back. In fact, 99.99% of the time, I'm the one who has to be held back. I tend to run into situations head first. Jump in the water feet first. To boldly rush in where no angel in his/her right mind (or even completely out of her mind) would go.

And I held back on hugging people.

It's not like I don't like physical contact. I do. Oh, how I do. It's not that I fear it.

I guess what it is, is I fear rejection. I fear being feared.

I am not what people would call a normal-looking guy. Lately I've let my hair and beard grow. I am, as Princess Leia once said, scruffy looking. In fact, I have left scruffy looking far behind, and am fast heading towards Wicket's retard brother. Short, hairy, fat, and yet not even close to being as cute.

And the class has more than it's share of hot girls. And semi-hot girls. And not so hot girls. All of them very nice, and with great amounts of personality. Many of them are aspiring (and/or current) actors, or singers, or presenters, or something. And one of the reasons they're coming is that the class is run by Anoja Weerasinghe.

And before you ask, I don't know (m)any other actresses, so I can't exactly compare her to others. But for me, she's not an actress. She's a good friend, and a good and warm hearted person. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

But for me, the big revelation was - I was afraid to hug the girls. Me. The guy who doesn't fear getting shot down at any club, fears offering - offering mind you - these girls a hug.

Why?

I can hug a guy. And not the usual hips-apart-shoulders-and-neck-only hug. But the real hug. Anything from an abrazo to a full-on bear hug. But I was scared to hug them. Weird huh?

So I had to spend some time in the old self-discovery mode to find out what the fuck was wrong with me. And I realised. It wasn't that I didn't like them. I did. It wasn't that I didn't want to hug them. I did. It was that despite everything, I didn't trust them to trust me.

I have seen so many girls who look on guys as.. pests. Who take guys as things to be endured. And let's face it, there are many guys who have acted in a way to deserve that reputation. I am not saying that watching girls is bad, or whistling. But forcing yourself on them is. And obviously, the girls don't like it.

And I am scared that they will classify me with them. I am still egotistical enough to see myself as a threat to them. I probably will be that way even when I am 90 years old (if I live that long) and need a whole bag of Viagra. And I am attracted to them. Which non-exclusively-homosexual man wouldn't be? Oh, it's not in the intense I-wanna-take-you-out-for-dinner-and-a-movie-and-drinks-and-dedicate-my-life-to-you sense. Or even in a hey-baby-how-about-a-dirty-weekend/night/afternoon/hour sense. But more in the I wouldn't kick her out of bed for eating crackers kind of sense. If they came on to me, I would not be running from them. I'd be thanking my lucky stars and heading for the nearest fast-sheet motel.

So I was scared to hug the girls, because I felt they would - by using some female super-powered soul-vision - be able to see that I found them attractive.

So I did the olny thing I know how to do. Jumped in. Feet first. Went on a whirlwind tour of hugs. And I found, it wasn't all that bad. In fact, I enjoyed it. And so, I think, did they.

But I guess there is still something to work out in me. I have noticed that I am, for want of a better word, wary of coming into emotional contact with new people. This is new, and probably has something to do with all the shit that went down in the last few years of my life.

But I'm working on it.

Until then, Free Hug anyone?

Where have all the winkles gone?

Muse

And the net is filled with a million voices - ok a thousand.. maybe a hundred.. two? - voices asking what the fuck is a winkle?

For those of you who don't live in Sri Lanka, and or never had a bike, and or never got their bike fixed, a winkle is a bicycle repair place. Usually they are small places, run by an oldish guy and a young apprentice (if any)

You get a patch, you take it to the winkle. You want to get your tyres re-inflated.. take it to the winkle. Want your bike modded up, you take it to the winkle. Want new tyres? Wheels? Spokes? Chains? Well, you get the idea.

A lot of you may have seen them. If you ever had a bike as a kid, then you probably took it there at some point or the other. It was always a place of wonder. Brand new tires hanging from the roof. An old Bicycle pump lying in the corner. Maybe a compressor chugging away, waiting to pump air into the tires. And like many such Ali Baba's caves of mechanical mysticism, they were almost all dark. The light came from the front of the shop, and the little low-wattage light bulb only served to accentuate the darkness. All the action happened outside.

I got my first bike when I was seven or eight. It was a Tomahawk, a smaller, cut-down version of the Raleigh Chopper. I rode it many places. My mother refused to allow me to leave the garden, and then confined me to our lane. But I loved riding the bike. It got stolen one day when I was about 10. I was heart broken.

My next bike was a Phoenix. It was made in China, and was what was called a sports bike. Which, in Sri Lankan terms, meant that it had slightly smaller wheels than the standard and cable brakes instead of levers.

That died when I was in my early 20's after I smashed it into a three-wheeler while going down-hill at high speed in the rain. I also broke my arm.

But one of the coolest parts of the bikes was tinkering with it. I didn't do much tinkering with the Tomahawk, but I did watch with interest as the old man at the winkle fixed it and tuned it. With the Phoenix i was more involved. I learned how to take it apart, flip the handlebar so that it was moderately under-slung, mod the seat and the pedals and everything else.

But the best days were the ones when I went to the winkle. It was a pleasure and education to see a professional do in a few minutes that which took me hours and many screw-ups.

In 2002 I bought a new bike. This was made to order. Lightweight racing wheels, narrow tyres, lighter pedals, 18-speed Shimano racing shifters. The works. It was what I called a street rod. A racing bike with a slightly curved mountain bike handle for better handling on Sri Lankan roads. The first time I took it to my old winkle was awesome. The look on the guy's face as he checked out my machine was gratifying. Of course that didn't stop him from tweaking it a bit more for performance.

I still have the bike. Though I don't ride it that often. I used to ride it the 25KM from my house in Piliyandala to Liberty Plaza every day in under 45 minutes. I used to be fitter then. Now I ride it when I can, and for much shorter distances.

Today I went to get my bike fixed. I wanted to do some riding this weekend, so I wanted the tyres re-inflated and checked. I went there and.. he was gone.

The place announced that it was up for sale.

I ended up getting my tyres inflated at a wheel alignment place. But it wasn't the same.

Then I realised, the winkles are disappearing. There used to be one at Anderson Flats, he's gone. There was another under the Mara tree near Bagatelle Road, he's gone too. And now my guy at Nugegoda is also gone.

I guess it's understandable. There are so few people riding bicycles now. I am one of the few people on a bicycle on the road. If I mention that I ride a bike, the questions range from ooh, how many CCs does it have to what are you? suicidal or something?

It really is dangerous to ride a bike nowadays. Most vehicle drivers don't pay you any attention. There are fewer and fewer of us on the road, which means that there are fewer and fewer of us to provide services for. I am sure that there are lots of winkles in the out-stations. But in Colombo they are a fast-disappearing breed.

I can't expect them to stay open for the few bits of business that comes their way. But watching them disappear is saddening. Like watching part of yourself die.

The laptop saga

Muse

Once upon a time, a long time ago, in December 2005, when dinosaurs ruled the Earth, Yours Truly got his first laptop. An IBM ThinkPad R51e. She was a beauty and it was love. She went with me to Singapore. I achieved nerdvana under a tree with her on my lap. I blogged on a plane and on a bus. I did so much with her. And in the middle of 2007 she died.

Her motherboard blew up. It wasn't a pretty sight.

I took her to EWIS for repairs, and was told that a new motherboard would cost about LKR800,000. Considering that was close to the amount I paid for her, I decided that I would wait and get a new one. Until I could get the cash, I would use an old laptop donated to me by a friend.

This one too travelled around the country with me. All over the country and even to to India. But, by Eris, she was heavy. She was a big ol' gal. Built as a desktop replacement not a laptop. Her keyboard was busted, and the battery dead. But she was good and reliable. What made me sad was that while her specifications were good in and of themselves, they came together to be a rather slow machine.

You know how they say that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts? Well this one wasn't. In fact it was much less than the sum of the parts. It was a reverse synergy. And besides, I wanted a laptop. The old rig, nice as it was, came in at around 10kg. That's without the power pack, which was pulling another 2. Couple that with heat, and Dell's reputation for blowing up, it was not my (or anyone's) idea of a laptop.

So even with that, I was looking for a new laptop. My first requirement was that it should be a ThinkPad. Yes, I got pissed off at Lenovo for one of their statements about Linux support. But they quickly recanted, and I am still in love with the model if not the maker. But the two things that really got to me were the pointing stick (or trackpoint, or nipple, or clit-mouse). I find it gives me better control than a touchpad, and almost as much as mouse or trackball. Besides, I do love playing with a clit or nipple.

The other was the ThinkLight. Whoever came up with the idea of putting a tiny LED at the top of the lid so that it lights yup the keyboard was a certifiable genius. There really is nothing like it for late night computing.

So a ThinkPad it would be. Even owned by Lenovo, it still has a certain build quality to it that I find attractive. Also, like I said so many years ago, in a world of shiny, beautiful looking laptops with all kinds of shiny blinkenlights, there's something about a ugly black box that people find, for want of a better word, reassuring..

First I wanted an R500. Since they are not available in Sri Lanka, I asked Short Stuff, who was coming down from the States, to bring it down. Too late, it would not be delivered until he was here. Well, there goes that. Time for Plan B.

A cousin of mine was heading off to the US. I was hoping she could bring it down. Also another friend in .lk came up with a cunning plan of his own. If I bought it here, he could pay for it, put it on his company account, and then get a 50% tax rebate. I'd get it for what was essentially half price. That seemed good too. But since I was dead set on getting a R500, and they only had a T400 here (look up the specs and compare for yourself, I'm lazy), I decided that I would get it from the US.

The day my friend leaves the country, I hear from my cousin that she has to bring two laptops down from her office, and so she can't bring mine. Plan C time.

Shit!

I call another cousin, but none of his friends are coming to Sri Lanka anytime soon. He offers to ship it, but I have reservations about shipping USD1500 worth of kit over DHL (or FedEx, or UPS, or migrating swallows).

So I decide on Plan D - buy the T400.

On Friday I went to the bank and got all my cash together. And found that I was exactly LKR1,500 short. And since when I say all my cash I really do mean all my cash, I was within touching distance but not grabbing distance of the laptop.

Arrrghhh!

I went and asked them if they could give me a discount, but they already had. And they could go no lower. So I had to get a friend of mine to lend me the cash.

After almost2 years and much insanity, I now have a new laptop.

And like any new relationship, she and I have been spending most of our time in bed. Getting to know each other. Finding out everything we can. Experimenting. Exploring (OK I explore her and she just lies back and enjoys it).It's all very romantic.

Of course, there are the bad sides too. The 1200x900 screen is too small for me. I require more resolution. More than a few things are not Linux supported. The touchpad is (as usual) more a hindrance than a help.

But then I found a hidden bonus. A built-in HSDPA modem built in to the machine. And they didn't even advertise it!

So we're still getting to know each other. But it is safe to say that I am now officially in love.

I started off with Debian, but then found that it is not supporting many of the features on a laptop. So I decide to go for Ubuntu. Or to be more precise, Xubuntu.

So now I have a sweet rig. Core2Duo 2.4. 2gb RAM (with more coming as soon as I get some cash together) and on the whole, a really good system. It's lighter than the R51, and has a titanium/magnesium alloy case, which makes it tougher too.

I foresee a long and interesting future for both of us.