Rants Raves and Miscellaneous Musings

Those who forget the lessons of history....

2011-12-31T14:10:00.001+05:30

Rant

I was there watching the election when Sarath Fonseka ran for president and lost. And then the Army surrounded the Galadari Hotel where he was waiting.

Of course no one came to his rescue. No one protested like they did in Iran against Ahmadinejad or in Russia against Putin. There was no mass upswelling of protest and anger.

Because very few people actually voted for Sarath Fonseka. Most of the votes were against Mahinda Rajapaksa - aka The Beast. Even YT who swore that he was going to spoil his vote because he felt neither candidate was worthy of his vote, ended up voting against The Beast because of the multiple showings of The Rise and Fall of Idi Amin on state TV. People voted for Fonseka because he was the not-rajapaksa.

Now everyone is trying to make a martyr of SF - forgetting, of course, that to become a martyr, you have to be martyred. They scream and shout that this is revenge (of course it is) and a frame up (would you expect any less from The Beast).

There are many petitions to free SF. There is even an attempt to liken him to Nelson Mandela. Nelson fucking Mandela.. I fucking swear. They even petitioned the White House, and there was much cheering and cries of "Jayawewa" because if they made 25,000 signatures the US Government would make representations to The Beast. Only thing is... they won't.

And of course The Beast himself has stated that he won't listen to the USGOV anyway. But, if the pardon plea came from the family (no doubt with much prostration and feet kissery - also dick sucking) he would "consider" it.

After all, why should he listen to the US? And why should the USGOV intervene? After all, it was the same people who now scream and beg for help and justice from the other countries that protested against and blocked any form of international intervention in the Sri Lankan Civil War. The same ones who claimed that other countries had "no right" to intervene in what was an "internal matter".

They were the same ones who were cheering that Sri Lanka finally had a "worthy leader" who had the balls to stand up to the "neocolonial powers". They were the ones who stood by The Beast while he trampled on the rights of the people. They screamed their support while he shut down and killed those who stood up to him. They convinced the Rajapaksa Brothers that they can do whatever they wanted with impunity.

And now the retards who supported all the bullshit, who screamed loudly that anyone who dared to question the "glorious leader" were traitors to the race and nation, who didn't see the whirlwind they would soon be reaping. Now those idiots are screaming to the very people they chased off and vilified for help.

First they came for the communists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

So reap the whirlwind, bitches. Reap it!

What is love?

2011-12-05T22:06:00.001+05:30

Muse

A long time ago my FEW called me a robot. She said that I had no emotions. That I didn't feel.

I, of course, took that as a compliment.

I have always valued rationality over emotions. Mr. Spock was my hero. Even to this day I would rather solve problems through rational discourse rather than screaming and shouting.

But that doesn't seem to work too well with women.

Women want me to make an emotional commitment to them. And I find this is something I just cannot do.

I can't seem to lose control. I can't seem to want to give up everything. to fight dragons, to say, "Fuck it. I will do this because I love this woman."

I can't seem to lose or give up emotional control.

It wasn't always this way of course.

In my younger days I had no problems in doing that. I would give my all for a woman. I was willing to do anything, make any changes to myself and my lifestyle to be with someone. But as I grew older, that changed.

I guess the big change was somewhere in 2001. A bad breakup in 2000, followed by an even worse one in 2002, which led to depression and an attempt at suicide where I learned that 24 tabs of Panadol are not enough to kill you, just give you bad heartburn.

Since then I have been uable to feel anything romantic for anyone. There is no rush of emotion.

I find it impossible to get that can't-eat, can't- sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, World Series kind of stuff.

I sometimes envy those who can. I envy those who can actually feel something. Those whose wires haven't been overloaded and burnt out. Those who can unconditionally love someone. And feel pain when it is going wrong.

As my friend the Toymaker asked me once, Would you rather be unhappy with her, or happy without her?

Apparently my answering - without any thought or hesitation - that I would rather be happy, meant that I was not in love.

This is not to say that I don't care for, or even love the women in my life. It means that I am unable to get that deep emotional bond that many of the women in my life seem to want. I even find it difficult to say I love you to someone. Something that I was able to do before my marriage.

But that doesn't mean that I don't care. That I don't miss them when they leave - or to be more accurate, when I drive them away. It doesn't mean that I feel sad that they are no longer in my life.

It just means that I shrug, and move on.

Paying for Petrol

2011-08-31T19:04:00.002+05:30

Muse

The hot news is that the LKGOV is compensating people for engine damages caused by the substandard petrol that was imported by the Ceypetco.

Now at face value this sounds like an excellent idea. After all, it is only fair that the people who fucked up your car engine pay for the damage they caused.

But who's paying for it really?

They say that they will pay compensation up to LKR50,000 for the affected vehicles. And over 2,000 vehicles have claimed damages, for a total of LKR100,000,000 in compensation.

Of course that isn't much. About LKR 20 from every man, woman, and child in Sri Lanka. And a lot cheaper than buying a Russian helicopter.

But it is the principle of the thing isn't it?

The money for compensation is coming from Ceypetco. Which means that it will be added to the price of fuel. So a few mililiters of every liter of petrol you pump into your car will go to pay for the compensation. And yet, the people who were responsible for this debacle are not only going to get off scot free, but they will be rewarded for it in the form of whatever cuts and commissions they got from it.

This is not new. This is not a unique situation. This is the status quo in Sri Lanka. Zero accountability. And whatever compensation will be paid by taxes by the state. And life - and the activities - will go on as if nothing had happened.

And that is the rub isn't it?

Buddha for power

2011-08-30T10:42:00.002+05:30

Muse

Or is it vice-versa? I forget.

So Sri Lankan - and perhaps the world - has its first Mayor Monk. Not only did he run for power, but when he was elected he held a temper tantrum fast because The Beast said he couldn't be mayor because he was - you know - a monk. One of those people who have stepped away from lay life for a life of seeking enlightenment.

Monks joining the monkeys in parliament is nothing new. We have had them since 2004. They even got into fights in parliament.

But talking about that is another blog post.

I'm here to talk about Wewelduwe Gnanaprabha who screamed, and shouted, and stamped his feet, and held his breath refused to eat until he was given the position of Mayor of Embilipitiya.

You see.. this is a Good Thing™.

"But wait!" I hear you yell.

"What about your 'separation of church and state' stance? Does this mean that you have 'evolved on it?"

Nay, True Believer. YT has not changed at all (in fact YT is still wearing the same shorts from a week ago).

You see, the reason why The Beast - in a fit of sanity? or just because even a broken clock can be correct twice a day? - initially refused Gnana (not the be confused with Nana, the purveyor of spicy meaty goodness at Galle Face Green) the post of Mayor is because as Mayor, he would have to approve of things that are (nominally at least) antithetical to Buddhism.

Things like Liquor Licences. Meat Licences. Gambling Licences. You know.. the good things in life. (although we're still waiting for the whoring licence)

Now the thing is, people love their vices. And Embilipitiya is no exception. Moonshine, venison, and - YT is told - some of the best local ganja comes from the area.

So there are three paths that this situation can take.

Stop issuing meat, liquor, and gambling licences
This would make him MIGHTY popular with the people.
Of course there will be people who benefit from this. Frozen meats don't need a licence, so your Food City, Keels Super, and regular shop owner don't need to worry. But considering that meat shops sell fresher meat for half the price, the consumer definitely will.
And then there is alcohol. Make alcohol illegal and you create a thriving kasippu (moonshine) industry. And considering that moonshine was ostensibly made illegal because of the chance that improper distillation would lead to methanol poisoning (the fact that they were not paying heavy extortions to the government had nothing to do with it. Nope. Nothing at all) the people who would suffer would be the Common Man™.
And of course the gambling ban will not affect the sale of lottery tickets at all. After all, if the Government does - nay promotes it, it's not gambling is it?
So IF Gnana decides that he is not going to sign any of those horrible things that undermine the virtuous nation, then when the next election rolls along, there would be a massive influx of money the candidate - any candidate - that promises, even in private, to bring back the licensing.
And because people love their morality at arm's length, the eating, drinking, gambling people of Embilipitiya would vote for them.
Let his secretary sign them
"I wash my hands of it," said Pontius Pilate.
Gnana may not be able/willing to sign the licences, but he could always tell his secretary to sign them.
But that would lead to other problems. First off, can the Secretary sign them? Is it even legal? Secondly, since these licences are the most lucrative income generators for whoever signs them, the Secretary is going to become rich. Very rich. And rich means powerful. And also means possibly able to stand for candidate at the next election. See above.
Sign the damned things
The simplest thing. And yet one that would get him flack from every direction. The people in his electorate would not be happy that he reneged on his holy vows for politics. They would not be happy that he got off the "morality" soapbox that he came to power on. And when the next election happens, this would be the first thing brought out against him.

Religion and morality in politics is a strange thing. It only works in the abstract.

Any politician who promises to make a moral law legal will be voted into power. As long as that law is not enforced too strictly. Bring in Prohibition, but don't look too hard at what is being sold under the counter. Make abortions illegal, but don't look too hard at that clinic.

Morality works best when it applies to your neighbour, not to you.

So the JHU is approved of when it gets into Parliament and screams and shouts and passes laws that affect no one directly. But when a robe-wearer gets into the local government and then starts messing with people directly, then there will be a problem.

What I hope will happen is that the people will get tired of this robe-wearer in particular and of robe-wearers in politics in general and refuse to vote them back in. That there will be a societal backlash against all this, and the creation of a SinBud Taliban will be forestalled.

What is more likely is that there will be more and more busy-bodies pushing robe-wearers into power because, it is their moral imperative to stop you doing what you want.H. L. Mencken defined puritanism as the haunting fear that someone, somewhere is having a good time. And we DO have a large number or Puritans in Sri Lanka (starting with The Beast himself) who want to stop other people from having fun, as long as THEY can do it.

And We The People will just sit with our thumbs up our collective asses, and do nothing about it.

That's what we always do.

A Blast From The Past: Time to give up on Sri Lanka

2011-08-29T14:31:00.000+05:30

Rant

Going through my hard drive, I found this article I wrote back in 2006, before I even thought of writing a blog.

Here it is for your delectation.

My father was a civil engineer in Nigeria. When the coup d'etat happened in 1983 his employer made him an offer – stay on with the company, and he'd get citizenship in any country he wanted. He chose to come to Sri Lanka and work here. For almost 23 years after his arrival he never worked in the engineering field.

Fast-forward from 1983 to 1999, I too chose to leave the US and come back to Sri Lanka. If I had so chosen I could have stayed there. I too, inspired by my father's example decided that I would help my country and returned.

I often wonder what things would have been like if we had not done so.

For better or worse both my father and I had a dream, that one day we would be able to make a difference in Sri Lanka, that the things we do would help make this country a better place. Dreams die hard under the harsh glare of reality, but die they do. And the more important that dream is to you, the more it hurts when you finally let it go.

The final nail was hammered into the coffin that houses what remains of our dreams a few weeks ago. We have a plot of land by the Bolgoda Lake. We have had that plot since 1980. In 2002 we applied for planning permission to build a wall in front of it, instead of the easily bypassed barbed-wire fence. It took almost a year for permission to be granted for a fence instead of a wall, because that is what the law allowed. Meanwhile, on both sides of our land, walls were being put up with impunity.

We finally started building the fence a month ago, only to have petitions brought against us. There was a lady in the authority who felt that we had enough of a case to fight the petitions, and helped us do so. She also made it plain that she wanted her pound of flesh. The dream died when my father finally gave in and paid her.

My father is an honourable man. He doesn't take bribes and he doesn't give them. When he finally decided to pay the woman, it was the end of his belief that if you are in the right, you don't have to worry about the law.

I admit that I am not as naïve as my father is. I have passed a folded note or two into the waiting hand of a policeman. I have applied what is euphemistically referred to in China as hyeung yao or "fragrant grease" when the wheels of bureaucracy seem to stall at the axle. Yet I firmly believed that this was not what the people wanted. That people were giving bribes because it was demanded, not because they wanted to. I honestly thought that under the right impetus you could actually get rid of the bribery and corruption.

Looking back, my naivete amazes me.

A bribe is not about money any more. It is the exchange of power and privilege for money. "Privilege" - now there is a word that has no ambiguity of meaning. Take the Latin roots of the word privus and legis, private and law. Your own personal law.

Bribery affects those who bribe as well as those who do not bribe. When the de facto rule is to bribe, then even the honest people who have no reason or wish to bribe, end up having to pass "a little something", a "small support", a "summa santhosam", a "podi udavva" to get what they want done. The people holding out their hands range from the beggar on the street who threatens to embarrass you if you don't give him something, to the garbage man who now expects a payment every month, all the way to the top.

The problem is like smoking. The first fag (and I mean a cigarette here) is the hardest one. Your head spins, your lungs burn, your body and mind rebels at this unnatural deed. Fast-forward a bit - you light up and take a drag and not only does nothing untoward happen, but you actually enjoy the sensation!

And people like it this way. A politician is not chosen on his abilities, but on "what can he do for us?" Can this man get my kid into a school? If I serve him will I get that fat contract? If I run around with his thugs, will I be able to get a few crumbs that fall from his table?

Unfortunately the entire nation is corrupt. The politicians bribe the people with promises of free this and free that to get them to vote. The politicians bribe the public servants with offers of more money in the form of salaries to make sure that things happen the way they want them to. The people bribe the politicians and the public servants directly or indirectly in order to get what they want. Everyone is bribing everyone else.

Near my home there was a housing complex being built. This was not your average complex, this was serious business. Immediately the politicians in the area were up in arms about it. The ecological and social integrity of the area was suddenly the most important thing in the world. The screaming, the shouting, the posturing and the postering was a sight to be seen. Yet this was as standard and ritualised an event as combing your hair and checking your fly before you ask a girl to dance. The performance was masterful, and the audience was appreciative. The money was paid, the construction went on.

The war goes on in the North. Many thousands die, many millions suffer. The ones who give the military contracts teach their children in international schools, send them abroad for their studies. All on a government servant's salary.

We used to have leaders of integrity in this nation. People used to be ashamed to give or take a bribe. This too has passed.

The problem is, like I said before, people actually enjoy giving bribes. It actually gives you a good feeling, that you can do something that the other guy can't or hasn't thought of yet. That you're actually getting away with doing something that you know is wrong. Its a rush, a high.

And there's the rub. Sri Lanka is, pardon my French, fucked. "Sri Lanka Matha" is the victim of a brutal gang rape. Her mind gone, her spirit broken, she sells herself on the street for a few rupees a shot. And she was made that way by the society that depends on her. The politicians sell her to anyone they can as long as they can get a cut for pimping her. Many of her illustrious, and not so illustrious, offspring are willing to sabotage any attempt to revive and rehabilitate her in exchange for a mess of pottage.

There is no honesty left here. No honour. Those concepts are dead. Dead like my father's dream of living in a society where if you did things right you could actually go forward and succeed.

What works here is money. Remember Al Pacino in Scarface? First, you get de money. When you get de money, den you get de power. When you get de money and de power, den you get de women.

Power is cheap in Sri Lanka. A few hundred bucks gets your trash hauled for a month. A few thousand and you don't have to go to court and face charges for drunken driving. Society as a whole is corrupt and likes it that way.

Many of us came back thinking we can help this country. That we can clean it up. I, for one, found that you can't clean what everyone wants to keep dirty. You can't free someone who keeps his chains on himself. You can't carry out an "intervention" in an addict's life when all he wants to do is see the pretty colours.

I'm here, still fighting. I run a small company and spend my time doing what is essentially volunteer work. What money I get comes from teaching. I make less than one tenth of what my friends who are in the same field make.

Even I can see the writing on the wall. Even if I try to ignore it, it's still there. Sri Lanka doesn't want to be saved. We the, dare I say, "intelligentsia" of this country don't have a hope. We come in with great dreams, and sooner or later we watch them get thrown in a pauper's grave.

Lets face it, the Sri Lanka we dream of is dead. The priests are performing the last rites, all we are doing is performing CPR on a corpse. Time to give her up. Time to walk away. Time to let our dreams die with dignity.

An Everlasting Emergency

2011-08-29T14:14:00.001+05:30

Rant

So The Beast walks into Parliament and announces that he is repealing the Emergency Law. Well, not so much "repealing" as much as "not renewing it."

But anyway.. YAY! Loud Cheers!! And the clinking of glasses.

But it was all oddly subdued. Very oddly.

Because - just like everything else this government has done - it was just an eyewash.

The Beast said in his speech that during the Emergency declared by him and his brothers, there was no censorship of the press/media. How wonderful. How unique. How true. How TOTALLY FUCKING INACCURATE!

Who needs government censorship when any reporter who didn't toe the official line was threatened with death, attacked or "disappeared", or simply killed.

So.. Anyway..

The Emergency Act will not be renewed. How awesome. But the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA) will still remain in force.

The PTA which already allows for 90% of what was allowed under the Emergency Laws. The PTA which is being "strengthened" with more legislation that will basically erase any difference between it and the Emergency Act. Well, any difference except one - you don't have to vote to extend the PTA every month.

So, we are being fed a nice, sugar-coated line of bullshit.

We are told to be happy that the Emergency Act is repealed. When all that is happening is that it is getting a revamp, and a booster shot of steroids so that we have it indefinitely, but under another name.

But we're told to be happy. That's a good thing isn't it?

The New Hotness

2011-07-05T11:48:00.003+05:30

Rave

Everyone's talking about the new hotness. Google+ walked in the door, threw its hat in the ring, and proceeded to do to Facebook - the reigning champion - what FB did to the previous champions MySpace and Hi5.

All of a sudden the game changed. Everyone is raving about G+, and everyone wants in on the ground floor.

I was a (relative) latecomer to the game. Despite all my self-proclaimed geek cred, YT didn't get an invite until Day 3. But watching the way things are developing is an education in and of itself.

Google+ - if you didn't know by now - is a social media system created by Google to go head to head with Facebook. But the important bits are not in the "what" but in the "why" and "how."

Let's start with the "why." El GOOG was getting solidly trounced in the social media market. In an industry that is run on statistics, customer data, and demographics; where business wants to know more about their consumers than ever before, Facebook was the data-mining resource do jour.

GOOG knew what people were searching for, and they could target their advertising to the right people, but FB was the new hotness. The new kid in town was getting all the hot press. Facebook was becoming the place to work, not the Google Campus. They even made a fricken' movie about FB. To all intents and purposes, Facebook was king of the hill, and GOOG - for all its profitability - was on its way down.

GOOG launched and then quietly pulled the plug on Wave, Google Video (when it bought Youtube), and at least a few others (YT is too lazy to get a comprehensive list, maybe you can search for them on google). But, I guess that is the point of innovation isn't it? GOOG kept on innovating, trying to find the tools that would make it all-powerful, while FB remained a one trick pony. They made minor interface changes and added a few things and got rid of others, but all the real "development" was happening in the third-party apps - some benevolent, most malevolent - created for it.

Taking the initiative to innovate, and not being afraid of making mistakes, meant that GOOG could work at becoming more than they were.

And GOOG knows how to market G+. They took the same approach they took with GMail. Give out limited numbers of invites to a select group of early innovators, and watch the demand rise. At the start GMail invites were being sold on E-bay for as high as USD200 per invitation. I got mine (free, from a friend) when the E-bay price was at USD50 or so. When G+ invites came out they did the same thing. They created a high-tech club, where you had to know someone on the inside to get past the velvet rope.

Of course there is the other advantage to GOOG of all this. In GMail, as in G+, they tracked the spread of the invitations. You would have to be extremely naïve to think that GOOG didn't have the resources and the algorithms in place to track the spread of the invitations. Keeping track of the social connections between people - even before FB existed - was something GOOG was good at. And despite Facebook's launch in February 2004, it was limited only to Harvard University, and Mark Zuckerberg didn't have or need the ability to track the spread of the - for want of a better word - infection. GOOG had means, motive, and opportunity.

GOOG did the same thing with G+. Although they didn't really need to. The whole purpose of G+ was to keep track of peoples' social connections. If they didn't track the spread of the invitations, I will eat my ~~hat~~cap; with the badges, hold the salt. The launch also generated enough of a buzz that G+ invitations started appearing on E-bay albeit at prices of less than USD20.

One of the reasons for the buzz is that the newsmedia missed out on the Facebook launch. When FB launched in February 2004, it was just a tiny little spark. No-one thought it would become the conflagration it is today. So when they get the chance of watching a social media revolution from the start, the jumped at the chnce. Also when a behemoth like GOOG announces that it is going to launch the Facebook-killer, the media starts fighting for front-row seats for the clash of the titans.

This is also part of the reason that users are clamouring to get into G+. Almost all of us - unless we were in Harvard in 2004 - missed out on the FB launch. People have a built-in desire to get in on the ground floor. To be seen as trendy or better yet, trend-setting. And with the launch of the "Facebook Killer" there are many people who want to be in on it.

Personally, I think that G+ is definitely the Next Big Thing™ in the social media field. Facebook went from being a social tool to being a marketing tool. People were getting tired of the targeted advertising, and the lack of privacy controls. G+'s solution is more intuitive. With the "Circles" concept as a way of controlling your social circles - taken from the open-source FB alternative Diaspora* - and extremely granular profile privacy settings.

MySpace went from being a social media tool to a way for musicians to market to each other. Facebook went from being a social media platform to being a way for companies to market to people. With the ability to create product pages and other marketing gimmicks FB - at least as far as YT was concerned - was going too far to cater to the marketers.

Of course this is bound to happen with any system. People have to eat, and get paid. But GOOG has a lot more experience in doing their marketing more subtly, as opposed to the heavy-handed methods used by FB. Which gives rise to the question "is ass-rape ok if they use lube and kiss you first?"

Because let us not forget - GOOG is not a search engine company. It is an advertising company. Its main business is figuring out what you want so that they can target their advertisements to you better. G+ is an attempt to not just get this information, but also allay the privacy fears that have plagued FB of late while collecting that same information. In a way what may make G+ work better than FB is that GOOG has a record of not sharing their data with third parties, while FB allows even the most basic app all kinds of access to your data.

I will not lie. I am excited by Google+. I think it has great potential. I am glad that the lessons El GOOG learned from its failures are being used to advance this tech. There are elements from Wave and many other "failed" services here.

But most of all, I am glad that in Google+ we now have an alternative to Facebook. Not just an alternative, but a solid competitor. This has shaken Facebook out of its complacency and even they are fighting to keep their position. Among the people who will benefit from this are us.

And that is not a bad thing.

Wanted: A Place To Hang My Hat

2011-04-18T21:48:00.001+05:30

Muse

A long, very long, time ago we moved into The Linux Center. And now the time has come for us to move out.

This could be the end of TLC as we planned it, and as we know it. Originally we planned this house as a location where the Linux geeks of Sri Lanka could learn, meet, and pretty much have a place to call a geekbase.

That didn't quite work out the way we planned. But it was a good run nonetheless.

I guess it is time for me to move on.

So I am looking for a place to live. A bedsit/studio or maybe even 1 bedroom pad on the High Level or Galle Road, with a separate entrance, and an attached bathroom and preferably kitchen.

Unfortunately I am not rich, and can't afford to pay much.

If you have a place that can suit, or know of a place, please get in touch with me at suchetha@gmail.com, or call me on +94 (0) 716710369.

Even if you don't know of a place, wish me luck eh?

This Too Shall Pass

2010-10-16T14:41:00.002+05:30

Rant

It is now over a month since the 18th Amendment was passed. And I can finally get my head around writing about it without simply saying FUCK a lot.

Isn't that nice?

Personally I am not surprised this happened at all. Sri Lankans in general and the Sinhalese in particular are extremely happy to give over control to someone, anyone. They are the kavum eating surrender monkeys of Asia. Not only are they willing to roll over and give up to anyone who comes in with an attitude, they will attack anyone who stands up and tells them to stop being such wusses.

The Heroes of Sri Lankan Independence are commemorated and fêted for standing up in Parliament and saying We would like independence please, if you don't mind.

This is at a time when the Indians with Mohandas Gandhi were engaging in civil disobedience and satyagraha, and getting beaten, jailed, or killed, Sri Lankans were quite willing to let it all happen. In a world that rewards the active, Sri Lankans are constantly passive. They are not just willing, but also insanely happy to give their freedoms away.

The two people who stood up for their rights in recent times, were brutally killed as the people around them cheered. True, they took a wrong path. True, at the end it was all about power. But, at least they began with the idea of we're not going to take this any more!

There were others too who stood up to The System and demanded their freedoms back. But they were marginalised and ignored - if they were lucky. Some of them weren't. And hoi polloi cheered.

But that is just the start of it. When the Governments were rapidly stripping away the rights of the people. When the Security ~~Theater~~checkpoints were being established all over the country no-one said anything, even when they knew there was no tangible benefit from them. When they started checking everyone entering a bus, nothing was said. This is because the Sri Lankan populace knows one thing - This Too Shall Pass.

There's a war on? No matter. He's stealing money? It's ok. They're shutting down the liquor shops? So? No matter what happens, it is not permanent. It'll pass. It'll go away, leaving nothing but a law behind.

When they started checking bags at the entry to bus stations, there was a time when they checked everyone for everything. About a month later, I walked in by just flashing my driver's licence. Three months later, the policeman was flirting on the phone and people were just walking past. I didn't even bother to take the checkpoint gate.

Sri Lankans believe that no matter what happens, it can't go on forever. And usually that is the case. Anything can happen, but not for long. Restrictions get relaxed, but not officially. Simply by tedium and apathy.

The problem is, this kind of thing increases passivity, as much as it increases with passivity. So when you get something like The Beast screwing the people in a big way, people are not going to do anything about it. There is the attitude that says, hey, he's not going to be here forever and the entire passivity that surrounds people. No one is going to stand up and say hold on, this is not right.

It is worthy of note that no one was celebrating when The Beast took on the role of el presidente de por vida. Well, no one except the people who were paid to do it. People understood what was happening, yet the question that many asked was what can I do?

But the thing is, there is a lot that can be done, if they wanted to. But nobody wanted to make waves. No one wanted to put himself in front and say this is wrong!

People just shrugged their shoulders and said, well, he can't live forever, and moved on. And this is the curse that plagues people who value freedom and equality in Sri Lanka. That anything you try to do will be haunted by the question, Why are you doing this? Why are you making a scene? Things will get better. This too shall pass

But it never does.

I'm me.. deal with it

2010-10-15T13:13:00.003+05:30

Rant

Recently I had a talk with a friend of mine. Not just a talk. A Talk. Note the capitals.

Now for those of you who know me, and for many of you who read this blog regularly, you know that I swear, a lot. My language and topics often go from the blue to the horrifying to the disgusting. It's not Tourettte's or Coprolalia (which, incidentally, translates to talking shit). It's not involuntary, I have a choice, I can choose what to say, and when. It's just that most of the time I choose to.

I have good friends. I might say that I have supergreatawesome friends. I might also say they are bunch of badass motherfuckers who would do anything for me. I would like to think that I am the same to them. They have, on many an occasion tried to get me to stop swearing. They have tried to get me to moderate my behaviour. It, obviously, hasn't worked.

What bothered my friend - from here on I will call him the Toymaker - was that apparently certain friends we have in common, that he introduced me to, are uncomfortable with hanging out with me. Apparently for some I am too much of a lech, for others, it is my language, for some more it is my overfamiliarity.

The Toymaker wants me to change. He wants to know why it is so much of a sacrifice that I will not amend my ways so that I would get to hang out with more people. It takes me a while to answer.

Firstly, I am not averse to change. I am the first to admit that I have many bad habits. I can be a bore, a boor, a brat, and many other things besides. I can be a right bastard to have around. However, it helps when people tell me what I am doing wrong. The Toymaker is not telling me what I am doing wrong, he is a messenger for others who are too cowardly and craven to do so. He has defended me when people I considered friends talked behind my back about how terrible I am. He has tried to get them to see my point of view, he has tried to get them to tell me. But since they know that he is the only one among them who is willing to confront me, they never complain to me, they complain to him. There is a part of me that rebels against that. I am willing to make changes, but not on a he said, she said bullshit routine. I change for people I respect, people who are willing to talk to me face to face. If they are unwilling to do so, and instead rely on third-party intermediaries, then my respect for them and their opinions automatically drops.

Secondly, I am usually a nice guy. At least my friends who know me tell me so. I am able to be serious when it is called for. I have even worn shoes on certain occasions. But, meet me in a relaxed place, in a time when I am out to have fun, then I am most emphatically not serious. I am the class clown. I will take a pratfall or three (or a dozen). I will be a lot of things, and all those things will be caricatures. If I lech, it will be a caricature lecher. Whatever I do will be exaggerated, larger than life. If a person has half a brain, they will know that I am joking. Unfortunately, it seems that a certain young lady doesn't have that. When everyone was hanging out and laughing at my lecherous antics, she not only didn't call me out and tell me that it was making her uncomfortable (which would have had me contrite and apologetic in nanoseconds), but she continued to laugh and joke and respond to my actions, which made me think she was quite cool with it. Later, much later she complains to the Toymaker about it, expecting him to come take me to task.

Item the third. I call women by a lot of affectionate terms. Hon, lass, love, sweetheart, and many others. I call my guy friends mate, dude, vato, machan (a Sinhala word meaning mate, dude, vato), and most recently cock-juggling thundercunt. These are not terms of endearment, they are terms of affection. I don't use that on my clients unless I am very close to them. I don't use that on strangers either. I would call a bus conductor malli, boss, or even machan, but as far as I am concerned, those are words for guys. And lacking equivalent female terms, I use a different set. And apparently that makes some people upset, because I use terms of endearment on them. I am crap at remembering names. I would barely remember mine if people didn't call me by it all the time. My name is Hey You Stop Thief Oh God Motherfucker. And I feel bad about being formal enough to call people by name. So I use terms of affection, not terms of endearment. Hon not Honey, the Cockney luv not love, the Bogartian schweetart instead of sweetheart, and the good old Scottish lass.

They get upset about it too. They feel I am being over-familiar. What the fuck? I mean seriously. We are meeting for drinks, and conversation. It is a relaxed atmosphere. I feel there is no need for me to call you by your name (especially if I can't remember it). I have no problems with them calling me anything they want, and I do them the honour of assuming that they are as open-minded as I am. But they get upset, they claim it is not PC, and want me to be PC. And then they go complain to the Toymaker.

Finally, I am not willing to change. At least not all the way. For me at least, friendship comes at a price. The price is that you accept your friends for what they are. It is always a choice. You can pay the price or you can walk away. I have friends from all walks of life, from all points of the belief spectrum. They know how I feel about things, I usually know how they feel. If they do or believe in something I consider wrong or stupid, and that belief is unshakeable, then I let them have that belief. I accept it, and ignore it. It is that belief that makes them the person they are, and if they are my friend, it is because I love the person they are. I also try to avoid calling them on it. And my friends do me the same courtesy. I am willing to change to a certain level, but I am not going to change all the way. Why the fuck should I? Especially why should I if those who are demanding that I change don't have the guts to face me directly? And most of all, why should I make all the changes? After all a relationship is a two-way street. Both sides make adjustments. The last time I was in a relationship where the adjustments were too big, the differences too far, it ended in tears, heartbreak, anger, and divorce court.

I have had way too many people telling me to change. I have tried to change, to fit in, to keep my head down and not make waves every since I was a lad. Then I realised, the people around me push, and keep pushing. Change a little, they want you to change some more. People don't like being made uncomfortable. I am ok with being put in situations that make me uncomfortable, and I will go out of my way to make people feel comfortable. But there comes a point when even I say, Not again. The line must be drawn here! This far, no further!

But, there is a price to pay. There always is. The Toymaker tells me that some of his friends don't want to hang out with me because of the way I act. He says he doesn't want to have to make the choice. I can understand, and I can accept. If the price I have to pay to hang out with people who are so un-understanding of me that they demand that I change my ways, then it is a price I am willing to pay. This is not a Tragic Hero thing. This is simply my recognising that I am not everyone's choice of friend. How could I be? I cannot be all things to all end-users. But for those who are my friends, who put up with me, who know me, I give the best. But I also demand the best. I am not the person who says, You can't hang out with us if you bring him along. How the fuck can I? I am not the person who holds it against people when they make a choice to hang out with people who are not me. Why bother? I have a place to stay, I have alcohol, I have the Internet, I have porn. Really, what more would I need?

I am me. Deal with it.

FUCK!

2010-09-09T19:02:00.002+05:30

Rant

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCKi! FUCK Ranil for being a pansy-assed motherfucker who couldn't create a real and viable opposition! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK the UNP for boycotting and abstaining from the vote! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK everyone who voted The Beast into power! FUCK them for the first election! FUCK them for the second! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK Prabhakaran for not doing a proper job and killing The Beast! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK Bandaranayake! FUCK Sripavan! FUCK Ratnayake! FUCK Imam! FUCK Suresh Chandra! FUCK all the Supreme Court Justices who said it was legal to amend the constitution this heavily without consulting the people! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK Sarath N Silva for saying that the Helping Hambantota investigation should be stopped so that The Beast can run for president! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK the system that doesn't work! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK the Police! FUCK the armed forces! FUCK them all for being the protectors of the Goverment's power! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK me! FUCK you! FUCK everyone!

After all, we're all FUCKED!

Scammers In The House

2010-08-11T15:45:00.001+05:30

Muse

A friend of mine nearly fell for a scam a few days ago. It was a quite well done scam, and would have passed through too, if it wasn't for the fact that the young lady was quite vigilant.

About two months ago, a guy contacted her on her Facebook account and sent her a friend request. She didn't know the guy but accepted the request anyway. Making friends on Facebook has become kind of like meeting someone on a bus. You may end up with a friend, you may end up with a romantic relationship, you may end up waking in a tub full of ice in a sleazy motel with your kidneys missing.

The person seemed quite nice and was friendly. Emails turned to chats, chats turned to Skype sessions. She noticed discrepancies in his story, and that put her on her guard, but she maintained the friendship anyway.

The guy spoke many times about his son, and that his wife had died of cancer 3 years ago. When my friend told me this, it set off my alarm bells. Cancer is a horrible disease, and people who get it suffer before they die. I am not lessening the suffering that other diseases bring, but cancer hits at a very visceral part of our psyche. So it is a major tool used by scammers.

He said that he was living in the US but his 16-year-old son was living in the UK. Somehow this didn't jibe either. And my friend noticed that he didn't have an American or British accent on Skype. His accent sounded more African, and the pictures of him were all Anglo.

I found it suspicious that his email address was his first name and his current age. Nobody puts their current age in a long-term email account. It's only relevant for that year.

As the days went by, he told her that he was coming to her country, and that he would be glad to meet her. My friend was not sure about this, so she was noncommittal about meeting. He sent her pictures of him, and his son. She even got an email claiming to be from his son telling her how wonderful it was that she and his father were getting along.

She sent me the mail, and the pictures, but none of the pictures raised any red flags with me. They should have. The son's email on the other hand was more interesting. The style of writing was more appropriate for a 7 year old's school essay than a teenager.

Curiouser and curiouser

A few days ago she got an email from the guy. Apparently he was on his way to her country to work on a contract. He had landed in India and was waiting at the hotel for his son's arrival when he received the news that he had been in a car accident on the way from the airport. The driver had died, and the son had a broken leg and minor internal injuries. They were getting a doctor down from Singapore to check the son out. The bill was going to be close onto USD6500.

The plot thickens.

He didn't want any money, he just wanted to be able to get the company he was working for to be able to give her a cheque in her name and then have her cash it and deposit it to him.

Are the alarm bells going off yet?

She, quite obviously, refused.

He went on to tell her the sob-story, and even went so far as to send a picture of his son in hospital with a bandage on his head. He refused to tell her the name of the company he was supposed to be working for, and didn't want them to know that his child was with him because it was apparently against his contract to bring his child with him.

It was about that time that I was fully brought into the picture. She had told me that she was talking to a guy and she didn't trust him, but this was a whole new level of bullshit.

Obviously alarm bells started going off in my head. My friend is smart enough not to accede to the guy's request, but it was eating her up inside - the entire what if this person is right can be a big weight on your conscience.

Thankfully he had sent a picture of his son in hospital. So Yours Truly submitted it to tineye.com, an image reverse search engine. You upload an image and they will see if it matches against their database of images (1,647,128,150 when I last checked) to see if it is in use anywhere else on the net.

I had used TinEye against the other images and not come across any positives, but with this last image, I got lucky. The picture of his son in hospital was a picture of a Pakistani boy who was caught in the war. If any more proof were needed that the guy was a fake that was enough. My friend blocked him on chats, and reported the profile to FaceBook as a scammer.

But I should have caught it sooner.

The TinEye search was just the start of it. I should have checked the EXIF data on the images he sent. When I went through them (using the FxIF plugin for Mozilla Firefox), I found that most of them had no such data, and the few that had the data had creation dates from many years ago. Hindsight is 20/20.

I can't teach people how not to fall for these scams. When you teach them how to block one, another 10 pop up in its place. But for this kind of scam, it is good to know the resources you can use.

It is good to have a healthy dose of suspicion, especially if you are a young woman, because they are the people who are most targeted by the bleeding heart/sympathy scams. If your gut feeling is that the person is bullshitting you and scamming you, then go by the basis that he is.

Good luck, and stay safe.

UPDATED 2010/08/12

Looks like this post has made somewhat of a stir. I have just heard of a young lady who has used tineye to find that her boyfriend was just scamming her with fake pictures etc.

I would also like to talk more about EXIF data.

EXIF data is written to an image when it is taken by a camera. It usually has the make and model, the date and time, the settings, the original size, and other data about the image. Some of them even have the latitude and longitude on them.

If the image was taken with a digital camera (even if it was the crappy little one on your phone) it will show EXIF data. If it was scanned it might show it. But EXIF data will not show on most manipulated images. If it has been worked on with image editing software there is a good chance it will not.

Most images on the internet do not have EXIF data. So if someone send you an image and says that it is a picture s/he took, there is a very high chance that the EXIF data is there. If it isn't, i would recommend you look at it with more skepticism.

The power of Human Rights cases

2010-04-08T14:34:00.000+05:30

Muse

My parents were in conversation with a Buddhist priest who is in the middle of a Human Rights case with the Police over a raid on the temple he is head honcho of. You may know (of) him, but I am not mentioning any names.

According to the case, the Police of the area raided his temple because they received an anonnymous tip that there were bombs, explosives, and other implements of destruction in the temple. And considering that The Beast is living in constant fear of an attempt to take his beloved power away from him, the place was raided. Of course it was helped by the fact that he was well connected with the UNP and had facilitated many a cross-party deal.

So his place gets raided. He also claims that there was an attepmt by the raiding officers to plant some explosives at the temple.

The next step is to file a Human Rights case against the police. Not just the cops who were directly involved in the raid, but also the OIC who ordered the raid. This is not news. We have so many HR cases happening in Sri Lanka that being a HR lawyer is practically a growth industry. Hardly worth a mention, let alone a blog post.

But as Baldrick would say, "I have a cunning plan."

When a HR case is filed against a Government servant, the person is not allowed to be promoted or transferred until the case is concluded. This means that if the cases drag on (as they often do in Sri Lanka) the person has no promotions for the entire duration of the case. Which sometimes can be as long as 10-15 years.

Now the priest in question has a lot of time on his hands. He also has deep pockets, running one of the more profitable temples in the area. He can afford to go on. He can throw sand in the axles. He can afford to run the case for a long time, calling for extensions, bringing more motions, whatever. Speak to a lawyer and he'll tell you far more about dragging a case than Yours Truly ever could.

But the final part of this is that the policemen cannot be promoted until the case is over. Everyone from the PC to the OIC are now stuck to that position. No more promotions, no more pay hikes unless they are the usual hikes for someone in your rank. In effect, your career has been frozen for the next 8-10 years. All because you gave in to some politician's revenge scheme.

The idea behind this is the creation of a Chilling Effect.

Now while traditionally a chilling effect - the silencing of opposition via legal attacks on more visible members which then leads to the silencing of other members (self-censorship) because of a fear of similar attacks - is based on legal attacks, in Sri Lanka it has escalated to murder, arson, physical attacks, and disappearences.

It is a well known fact that most such acts are carried out by members of the police and the various armed forces. Some of these are done by policemen in plain clothes. But with the prevalence of cameras on cellphones, it is now possible to get photographic evidence, and to identify the people. And further, to take them to courts.

The chilling effect works both ways. If the government can silence critics by its legal and extra-legal methods, so can the people stop those activities via legal methods. Enough HR cases, enough cops realising that their advancement prospects can be - at least temporarily - suspended because they did something that even they know is illegal, and the enforcement arm will start being a lot less helpful when somebody needs to be taken care of.

In a land where the general person has no access to arms and other forms of self-defence, where the police are not the protectors of the citizenry but the hired thugs of those in power, where people few to no rights, the only defence is the courts. Although that refuge is being swiftly eroded by those in power, it still exists. It is the only defence we have left, and if we are to have even some semblance of freedom, we have to use it.

Why I want Mahinda to win.

2010-01-25T22:28:00.001+05:30

Muse

Now there's a shocker.

Here I am, calling Mahinda Rajapaksa The Beast, attacking him and criticising him at every step, and all of a sudden I do a complete Heel Face Turn?? What the fuck is up with that? Why, oh why would I want him to win?

The answer is simple.

Revenge.

Revenge on The Beast for sure, but also revenge on the people who voted for him, the people who supported him, and the people who maintained that he was the Glorious Leader. But mostly for revenge on The Beast.

So how does a victory mean revenge? That is, logically speaking, a contradiction.

To understand that, you have to understand what Jeeves used to call the psychology of the individual.

The thing I have noticed about The Beast is that he is a very insecure man. Insecure in his position, insecure in his place in things, and most of all insecure in his self-image. His high level of superstition that led to - amongst other things - his removal and dumping of a 120 year old statue of Queen Victoria and his (in)famous arrest of the astrologer who predicted that he would be ejected from office. But, as with all such beliefs, this is because he feels that he is inadequate. How else would you explain it?

He just wants to be loved. OK, not just loved, but adored and adulated. The cult of personality he created around himself was not just the means to an end. It was an end in itself. I admit, I am not a psychologist. I can't read peoples' minds. But when you look at the things he has done, it seems painfully obvious. But he is a charismatic guy. Everyone who has met him agrees on that. Me, I haven't met him, so I can't say anything. But the way he acts is like he wants to be loved by everyone, and he would do anything to get that. And coming from me, that's practically a professional opinion.

So yes, The Beast is insecure. Very much so. Which is why he had astrologers on TV predicting to the world that he would win. Which is why he wants to be met by adoring and cheering crowds everywhere he goes. Which is why he sits and watches people adoring him like you and I would watch the animals in the zoo. I still remember this news report of him leaning on a railing with an adoring crowd separated from him by 3 feet and a chainlink fence. It looked so much like the Dehiwala Zoo its not even funny.

I want him to know how it is to be hated. Not simply hated, but truly loathed. I want him to be in power when the prices go up because we have to pay off the USD 500 million loan (at 8% interest) that is coming due in 2012. I want him around to hear his name being cursed.

I want him to win so that when all this goes to shit, then people will know who to blame. I want him to be able to steal a lot more sore that when everything comes crashing to the ground, people will remember him. So that neither he, nor his brothers, nor his sons, nor anyone who has the name Rajapaksa can ever enter into politics again.

Can you tell that I hate him?

I want the people to suffer. I want the people who cheered him on, who proclaimed him the saviour of Sri Lanka, who were willing to excuse and accept his illegal actions to feel the results of their actions.

And I'll be right there, suffering with them. But I will have a smile on my face. Because I know that as much as I suffer, it is nothing compared to the suffering of those who will feel betrayed by him, and have no-one to blame for it but themselves.

Mahinda's Legacy

2010-01-21T21:00:00.000+05:30

Muse

Usually it is when people die, or move on, or do something significant that you talk about their legacy. But The Beast is no ordinary man. He has forever changed the face of Sri Lankan politics. He has made more changes to Sri Lanka's political structure and political system than anyone ever has.

Too bad for us those changes are for the worse.

I knew things were going to be different when The Beast did his saatakaya cheat in the run-up to the presidential elections of 2005. Does anyone remember that? When the Elections Commissioner told people to take down their posters and cutouts in the run-up, The Beast complied - technically. In every place that he had a cutout he placed a picture of Sri Lanka with the saatakaya around it.

When he was accused of stealing LKR 800 million from the tsunami relief funds he filed a court case asking that the investigation be suspended until the end of the election. After he was elected the investigation continued and - surprise, surprise - found that he was not guilty and that it was an attempt by the UNP to discredit him.

This was just the beginning.

From the first day he came in he started creating a personality cult around himself. The little kids wearing the saatakaya, the athletes at the SAF Games wearing the saatakaya, pretty much everyone wearing saataka. A strip of red cloth became the unofficial must-have fashion accessory for any event that was even remotely connected to the government.

And then there was the war. When he decided to go to war, his actions created a whole new meaning for the word terrorism.

The Government itself spread terror at a level that we had never seen before. The media had a field day with various threats to the people. There were fake bombs planted. Bomb panics were initiated where schools were shut down because the LTTE is going to bomb 5 schools. The Government engaged in the creation of a fear psychosis in society that was unparalleled. Even the establishment of checkpoints - which even the IGP testified at the Supreme Court had not managed to capture or stop a single bomb-laden vehicle without other information - patrols, various fear-inducing advertisements, the establishment of a general sense of paranoia, and of course the security theater that goes along with it was done so that the Government could have a free hand.

Of course the checkpoints did nothing to stop the actions of the extra-judicial killings and assaults that happened. Lasantha Wickrematunge was killed within sight of an armed checkpoint and the killers managed to escape. And on a more personal note, the presence of a checkpoint less did not stop the Pajero/Montero that performed a hit-and-run on me. But they did their job. They kept people scared on one side, paranoid on another, and secure on a third. Of course the feelings of fear were amplified by the white van abductions and - for those of us who remember the Black Cats vigilante squads of the late '80s - the establishment of armed military personnel on motorcycles who routinely zipped through traffic. All for our safety of course.

There were other actions too that showed that the government was learning how to manipulate the people. The teacher's strike on the 13th of September was overshadowed by a tsunami alert on the 12th. Of course this is not an attempt to say that the Government caused the earthquake. But note that the quake was of magnitude 7.2 on the Richter Scale. Which is 100 times weaker than the 2004 quake that caused the tsunami. Of course that did not stop the media - especially the state media - from telling people that there might be a tsunami on the way even a whole day after the quake occurred.!

Then there is the corruption. The Beast's stooges and henchmen have been robbing the country. But that kind of robbery is a pittance, a mere drop in the ocean compared to the actions of Rajapaksa Brothers, Extremely Private, Totally Unlimited. After the death of Jeyaraj Fernandopulle, the job of Minister of Nation Building went to T. B. Ekanayake - who was given the authority to deal with any building project valued under LKR 40 million. All other projects go to Basil (aka Beast Junior). If the other politicians were shoplifters and armed robbers pulling a gun on the cashier, The Beast's family is akin to the manager of the store pulling a 40ft container up to the loading dock and emptying the store into it. If you're lucky, he'll leave the shelves.

The war was used as an excuse too. In order to stop the LTTE from finding out what weapons the Forces were acquiring the tender process was made a secret. No-one knew what was being asked for, who was bidding for it, and what it cost. There is, as yet, no way that we can get that information even after the war is over. The war was used as an excuse to stop the investigations into corruption, flagrant abuses of power, and human rights violations. It was used as a way to muzzle any and all critics of the government. It was used as a way to divide Sri Lankan society by branding all those who opposed the way the LKGov was handling the war as traitors.

The cult of personality went forward with the creation and distribution of the new LKR 1,000 banknote. It has The Beast in a blatantly campaign-poster-like pose on the obverse and an image representing the Forces - in a pose reminiscent of (ie a direct copy of) the raising of the flag on Iwo Jimaon the reverse. He is not the first person in Sri Lanka to do that. The JR and Premadasa 1 Rupee coins are still in circulation, though they are rapidly dwindling in number. But the image in the front is clearly a propaganda/publicity image. It seems conceivable - nay, inevitable - that the next president will put his image on the currency too, and since he has to go one better, it would be the LKR2000 note. And the next would want the LKR5000 note (we don't have one yet? we will, and soon) and so on and so forth.

The other legacy is the USD 500 million sovereign bond issue at 8.5% interest of 2007. Does anyone remember that one? The one that had Ranil the Ineffectual running around the world trying to stop? The one that had The Beast calling Ranil a traitor to the nation? Well that comes due in 2012. Welcome to the legacy.

Of course, there will always be those who claim that his greatest legacy is a Sri Lanka without a war. The destruction of the LTTE is worth all the corruption they say. But is it? Yes, the war continued because the people involved we making money. They were milking that cow for all it was worth. But the cow was getting old. The people were starting to ask why are we keeping this old cow? So The Beast did the thing you do with old cows. He milked the cow, then killed it, and sold the beef (what he didn't make a curry out of). And now the people are cheering that the cow is gone. There is more room. But - to quote an old advert and the basis of a US presidential election campaign - Where's the beef?

So The Beast has left a legacy. A legacy that comes from the people who came before him. The cult of personality, the corruption, the outright robbery is not new. The others did it too. But The Beast took it to a whole new level. What he has done is multiple orders of magnitude worse than his predecessors. We may never - hopefully - see his like again. But all that he has done will be learned from, carried forward, and built on.

So The Beast's legacy is not just what he has done, but also what he has shown the people the way to do. And that is a legacy worth fearing.

Why the Army should vote for Sarath Fonseka

2010-01-09T07:43:00.003+05:30

Muse

Before you ask, I am still spoiling my vote.

But there is something that needs to be said. Something worth thinking about.

There is lots of talk about the Army not voting for SF. There is talk that the people in the forces have become disillusioned with him.

This may or may not be true.

But if the Army wants to maintain its status - and let's face it, who doesn't - they should vote for SF.

The Beast is very scared of the Army. He fears an Army coup, which is why he had SF removed from power as soon as the war was over. And that kind of fear doesn't go away just because he gets rid of SF. It's going to go much further than this.

When The Beast wins (and I have laid bets he will, by hook or by crook) he will take on the Army. There will be downsizing, there will be mud-slinging campaigns, there will be a lot done to lessen the place of the Army in the people's esteem. And all through this The Beast will be on TV, on the stage, on the media wringing his hands and screaming about how the foreign conspirators who don't like seeing Sri Lanka rise up are trying to tarnish our image. He will claim this is done because he, the great and victorious and glorious leader, won the war against terrorism - something the other countries could not do.

He will come out with a line of bullshit via his PR flacks that would make the most histrionic posturings of a TV evangelist preacher look wooden and dead. He will cry his crocodile tears in public, while orchestrating all this in private.

The Beast fears the Army - not so much the other forces, but definitely the Army. And he will do his best to destroy the threat to him. And since we have all seen how wonderful a manipulator of the public psyche he is, he will do it by destroying the public's opinion of the Army, and by extension, the rest of the forces.

The SF coalition hasn't mentioned this. Maybe they don't see it. I had to have it pointed out to me as well. But it seems extremely probable when you look at it.

So tell the Army people you meet, if they want to maintain their status in the mentality of the people, vote for SF.

But I'm still spoiling my vote.

Where My Vote Goes

2009-12-29T17:03:00.000+05:30

Muse

Poeple ask me how I'm going to vote.

With the election fever in full effect, that is the biggest question on people's minds.

Who we vote for is what is going to set the course of this country for the next 6 years. And people are looking for reasons to vote for either of the two evils.

Obviously this doesn't include the hardcore supporters. All candidates and parties will have people who will vote for them no matter what they do. Those guys are unchangeable. But there is - especially so this time - a large group of people who have no idea who to vote for.

There will be people who decide to vote for The Beast because at least he guarantees stability. Instead of having to deal with a whole new devil who may act in a whole bunch of unpredictable ways, it is better to vote for the known devil. Despite all his corruption.

There are people who will vote for SF because he is the not-Mahinda candidate. Who will vote for him because that is a vote to show The Beast that he no longer has support in many areas. It is not a vote for SF, it is a vote against The Beast.

But then again, there are very few people who actually expect SF to win.

So who will I vote for?

I had to think long and hard about this. OK, not that long, nor that hard. I cannot in good conscience vote for either of them. The actions of The Beast pretty much preclude my willingness to vote for him. However, I doubt that SF is any better.

SF making blatantly racist comments was the start. But I just have my doubts in him as a good leader.

So I find that I cannot vote for either of them. Therefore I, like many others, will go to the polling booth and write in a vote for the fuck both of you and the horses you rode in on party.

Sarath Fonseka, the truth, and shooting the messenger

2009-12-28T17:05:00.004+05:30

Rant

Election days are here again, and the skeletons are coming dancing out of the closet.

In case you missed the news, Sarath Fonseka (aka the racist) is now running for presidency as part of the UNP. And im proper Sri Lankan mud-slinging style, he decided to drop a bombshell on the people. Evidently he thought it would bring the people to his side.

He claimed that Gota (The Beast's kid brother, and the Secretary for Defence) ordered that all surrendering LTTE leaders should be shot. This hit the news in epic fashion. After all, the head of the military had ordered that the surrendering leaders should be killed. No trial. No mercy. Just killed.

This made a lot of people angry. So much so that SF had to release a statement that said that he was misquoted.

The thing is, almost all of us know that what he said was the truth. Not only did The Beast give out a kill order on all the heads of the LTTE, but he ordered that the families of those leaders should also be killed. Three days after the news came out that Prabhakaran was killed, the news started circulating in Sri Lanka that he was not killed on the day he was supposed to have been killed while attempting to escape.

He had surrendered to the Army three days before, on the day that The Beast claimed he was returning to a country free of terror. He was captured with his family, kept alive and tortured. The stories are gruesome to hear. Tales of his kids being tortured and killed in front of him. Of the same treatment being given to the families of the other LTTE leaders who surrendered.

These tales were - obviously - hearsay. But they had a ring of truth to them. The word came not from above, but from the ground-level troops. There is no proof. There may never be proof. This is not the kind of thing you write a memo on.

And yet, its sounds so horribly true. The Sri Lankan Governments have a long history of killing the people it doesn't like. If you piss them off enough, they will come after you and kill you. Ask Lasantha Wickrematunga. If they really hate you, you'll be disappeared and tortured and killed. Ask Rohana Wijeweera.

Ask Prabhakaran.

The fact of the matter is that the Sri Lankan people already knew what had happened. And SF felt that by confirming what people knew he could get people on to his side. That by confirming the extra-judicial killings happened, and that the Government ordered it, he would make people realise what a fucked up and corrupt government we have.

He was wrong.

It's not that the people don't know how fucked up things are in Sri Lanka. It's not that no one knew what happened. Its just what we didn't want it confirmed.

When I was a young lad, I used to get into a lot of trouble. I used to go out and get drunk and/or stoned and/or in a fight and/or laid. I haven't stopped yet. But that's another story.

My poor parents knew about it. They knew that their dear darling son was upto a lot of mischief. But, bless their hearts, as long as they didn't officially know, they were ok. As long as i didn't get hauled into jail, or wasn't brought home by some irate father, things were just fine.

Denial, it's not just a river in Egypt.

People knew. People accepted it. Many even supported it. But as long as it wasn't an official statement, they could always say it was unconfirmed. and that it was probably rumour. Though deep in their hearts, they not only knew it was true, they wanted it to be true.

But when it gets told. When it is made public, people are made to see themselves for what they are. Vengeful. Petty. Murderous. SF telling the people this made them have to look at themselves, and it wasn't pretty.

So they shoot the messenger. After all, they can't accept that the kind of people they are can they? Actually accpet their faults and foibles? Say it ain't so!!

So SF shoots himself in the foot. Because, even though we keep saying we want the truth, we really don't.

We can't handle the truth.

And the manipulation begins..

2009-10-10T20:51:00.004+05:30

Rant

The power went out last night. You may have heard about it. You may have even experienced it. I did. I stayed awake until 0730 sweating and swatting at the mozzies. Damned mozzies. I barely got any sleep.

Of course, my first reaction was somebody must pay.

We pay the power bills, is it too much to ask that we get what we pay for. Of course the LKGOV doesn't have much of an excuse now do they? The big excuse has now been wiped out. The Government has won. It's all going to be wine and roses from now on.

But I want to know why. Some kind of reason as to why the entire country went dark. Why I didn't get to sleep. I want something that is rare in Sri Lanka. I want accountability. I want someone to say, Sorry, I screwed up.

So do a lot of other people. All that we get is We're not sure what went wrong. So we're going to start a commission to find out why.

Great. Fine. Awesome. After all, this is Sri Lanka, where Commissions have done excellent jobs in uncovering the truth.

Can you tell I'm being sarcastic? Good!

Then I turned on the TV today, and there was a lovely Thought of The Day type thing going just after the news.

They tell us that we should stop blaming the poor innocent heroes of the Ceylon Electricity Board. That we should stop asking why these things are happening. That we should not do anything that would cause a lowering of the morale of the CEB.

Wait, WHAT?

They seriously expect us to stop asking questions because it would cause a drop in morale? What the fuck gave them that idea?

Oh yeah. The War.

The so-called humanitarian effort that still has over 200,000 people in concentration camps.

During the war we were told that we shouldn't ask questions. That we should not demand accountability or transparency. That if we did that we would be undermining the modale of the brave soldiers. That we would be engaging in treason. That the white vans would come for us. So we shut up.

We allowed massacres, shelling of civillian areas, stealing of money. We allowed innocent people to be herded into camps that we know are terrible places to live in. We are all guilty by complicity in what is happening in Menik Farm today.

And the LKGOV watched. And they learned. And now they are using it on us all over again.

Only this time, it is the CEB. The brave soldiers who are fighting to bring us light.

We should not question their shortcomings, it would lower their morale.

Whose morale are we supposed to protect next?

Booster Blitz Powder test

2009-09-03T08:50:00.003+05:30

Rave

Yes, I know. I haven't posted lately. A lot of half-written articles are in my blog cache, but none are ready for being seen. So here I go.

Yesterday - in the process of getting ready for a long-weekend trip to Batticaloa and Pasikuddah - I went shpoping. Bought many things. Food, and eats a few meds and lions and tigers and bears. Oh my! I also picked up a few cans of Booster Blitz.

For those of you who don't know what Booster Blitz is, it is an energy drink from Malaysia. I prefer it to the candy taste of Red Bull, and at LKR 120 cheaper for a can - LKR160 for Booster vs LKR280 for Red Bull - it has other benefits too. Like being able to buy more for whatever you have in your wallet.

Now I'm a caffeine freak. I used to drink 3-liter bottles of Mountain Dew while in the US, and multiple 1.5-liter bottles while it was being sold here in Sri Lanka. I used to drink 8 cups (big mugs) of coffee a day. I still go through a 1.5-liter of Coca Cola every day, but I will joyously - nay ecstatically - throw it over for Mountain Dew if it becomes available in Sri lanka again. I drink double espressos at high speed. I get withdrawal headaches if I don't get my daily dose. And I now have gastric pain because of 3 double espressos in 2 hours on an empty stomach. My body's way of telling me it's not what it used to be.

As I check out with the supplies, I notice little sachets for sale at the counter. They also say Booster Blitz. What is this? I pick a few up to find that it is Booster, but in powdered just-add-water form. Curiouser and curiouser. At LKR80 per packet it is half the price of the Booster-Blitz-in-a-can. Always willing to try something new, I pick up a few packets.

Then - on the way home - it hits me. We used to eat concentrated drink mix when I was a kid. I remember having a packet of Coleman's Orange mix and using a spoon to dig out the raw powder mix and eat it. It gives you a massive sugar boost. And since it is powdered as you it it, you can't help inhaling some of it, which gives you a sore throat and yellow snot for three days. This is probably like that. And if I eat it raw instead of mixing it with water, it would be like mainlining caffeine.

This is one of my better ideas. And possibly an indication of what it is like in my head.

It is now 0830. I have a full day's class to do. I am running on 5 hours sleep. I am not a morning person. I have already whacked about 25% of a 1.5-liter of Coke. I am now going to have one of those packets. And in the interests of posterity, I am going to document all of this here. This is an excellent idea!

Right?

0830: I open the packet and the smell of Booster fills my nose. The powder is ivory white. Kind of like heroin. Not that I would know what heroin would look like since I am a good boy and would never do anything illegal. Or immoral. Or fattening. The packet has no sugar, just the boosty part of the drink. Here, as they say, goes nothing.

Ok. That wasn't too bad. It had some kind of sweetness to it. It also had fizzmakers built in that made me foam at the mouth. The flavour concentrate is still giving me a Booster taste in my mouth. I am not expecting any immediate reaction, but I should feel something within the next 10-15 minutes. One thing that is happening is that I am burping. A lot. This is probably the fizz-makers still fizzing away in my stomach.

0840: I've just had a shower, so I am not sure if it is a result of the shower or the Booster or some psychosomatic reaction. But I do feel more alert. And the effect is faster than from the Booster drink. Effects to the abused stomach are minimal to none. Lots of burping is still happening, but there is that hyper activagted feeling.

My brain is sparking, the neurons firing off in odd and random directions. I am even able to finish off a blog post and prep it and post it in under an hour. Sure its a short(ish) post, but it is a post.

Conclusion: Caffeine good. Booster good (because of aforesaid caffeine). Booster Blitz powder, an efficient delivery system of aforesaid Booster Blitz and caffeine.

Blogs on the beach

2009-08-03T10:34:00.006+05:30

Muse

Here I am, faithful reader. Still writing, still trying to figure out this strange-ass world of ours. Here I am, at 0700h (7a.m. to you clueless plebes) with a large glass of vodka/sprite (raspberry vodka if you must know) bubbling away in my gut, tapping away at the laptop, on a balcony looking over the beach. There is something .. extremely nice about all this. The Hikka Beach Fest is happening well to the North of me, I am down in Mirissa enjoying secluded beaches, crashing waves, vodka, and some rather nifty herb. Life, is good.

It is incredible isn't it, how we all seem to land at the beach at some time in our lives. Being born on an island in the sun this is not difficult. But, it's not that easy either. But that is probably a by-product of age. When I was younger I used to hop on the old velocipede and head down to Mount beach. Now, I actually have to make time to go there. How much suck is that? And even when I do go, i very rarely set foot in the sea itself. But spending this much time in close proximity to the sea gives me a good feeling. Reminds me that we have the same level of salt that is in the sea in our veins. Really, we do.. or they say we do.. but I don't advocate spilling any blood in the sea, or it's gonna be dun-dun.. dun-dun.. dun-dundun-dundun-dun JAWS!! Yes, thank you Peter Benchley and Steven Spielberg for completely fucking ruining my enjoyment of the sea. But I digress.

We all seem to love the sea. Maybe not those who got caught in the tsunami, but I certainly do. I could spend days by the sea, given enough connectivity and a water-proof laptop. Just sitting here watching the waves break, and the coconut trees move, and the salt wind in my face, makes it so awesome. There is something in the salt that calls to me. Urges me to get in there and start swimming to see if I can find the edge.

We are born of a womb of salt water, life crawled out of the salt, without salt in our diet we will die. But there is something that tells me that many of us, if we don't get our regular dosage of beach time would die. If not in our bodies, then in our souls.

I think one reason is that there is a certain chaotic power in the sea. Fire is chaos, but fire has no.. substance. It can't be touched, felt, be immersed in. As beautiful as it is, fire is just a treat fot the eyes. In the sea, you can get in there. Feel the strength with all your body, Know that she is wild, crazy, unpredictable. That she will cradle you. Carry you. Hold you. Then throw you at a rock at high speed. The sea is chaos incarnate. And we love her because we feel that in her. Something calls us back to the original chaos.

So here I am by the sea. Having an awesome morning looking at the sea, at a time when most of the people around me are asleep. There are five-foot curlers out there, and they make me wish I could surf. There are reefs to explore and shells to pick up. There are miles of beach to walk on, to leave footprints in the sand, to watch those footprints getting washed away. There is the attempt to forget that this is the end of my weekend out, and that I have to be back in the real world tomorrow.

And the sea calls to us. It calls to me. And if you'll excuse me, I have to put down the laptop and go for a date with a beautiful and extremely unpredictable woman.

One step forward, two steps back

2009-05-20T20:30:00.002+05:30

Muse

The things that worry me about the war, and the eventual end, started back in New Year's day (April 14th in Sri Lanka).

That was the day they showed the celebrations in Kilinochchi. The leader of the forces there was symbolically invited into the city by an Arachchi wearing what seemed to be an extremely Sinhalese costume, talking classically "old village" Sinhala.

Now, it's not the action or the symbolic welcome that I am against. It was the implementation of it. If they had done it with a Tamil-looking arachchi, wearing a verti instead of a sarong, if they had made some concession to the fact that Kilinochchi was a historically Tamil area, then I would not have minded it so much. The event was a symbol. A symbol that the area of Kilinochchi was under LKGOV control. But even symbols must be handled with care.

And then there was the speech by The Beast.

Giving a speech that says we have won is acceptable, but using heavily popularised icons of polarization is just stupid. If you read the victory speeches of the greats like Lincoln and Churchill, you will see that all they have said was something like it's over. we won. I thank the troops and God.

Whatever they may have felt in private, they refrained from attacking the country in their speech.

In his victory speech to Parliament The Beast mentioned Dutugemunu as a great hero, and, almost in the same breath, Elara as a usurper and conqueror.

The problem here is not that Elara was a usurper/conqueror who came down from India and took over. He was, but even the Mahavamsa calls Elara a wise and just king. It wasn't that Dutugemunu was doing the same thing that Elara did - namely, attacking a land that was not his so that he could get more power. The problem is that we are taught that the Elara-Dutugemunu fight was one between the Sinhalese and Tamils that the Sinhalese won.

This could not be further from the truth. It is the nature of birds to fly, of fish to swim, and of kings to conquer. That was all that it was. But the problem is what we are taught. In school I was taught many stories of Dutugemunu as part of history. One of the stories involved how Dutugemunu's mother came to find him asleep in a big bed all curled up. Why are you sleeping all curled up? she asked.

he answered , How can I stretch my arms and legs? In the North is the evil Tamil, to the South is the deep blue sea (හැඩි දෙමළු).

A historical story. A children's fairy tale. A vehicle for racial hatred. I was lucky my parents never taught me that. But I heard it in school. How many Tamil people heard the same story with a different twist for their race? It was much, much later that we heard about Dutugemunu considering Elara a honoured enemy and building a monument to him. In fact I don't think I learned that at school.

This is why referencing the Elara-Dutugemunu war was a mistake.

I would like to think that both of what happened was an honest mistake. A simple error in judgment from a speechwriter who didn't understand the connotations of what he said. But the problem is that he did say it. A golden opportunity to help the situation was squandered in words that created more harm. Now the LKGOV has to go further, and faster to regain trust.

So it's one step forward and two steps back.

Where the LTTE went wrong

2009-05-18T15:50:00.000+05:30

Muse

It's Monday. It's Morning. It's Monday Morning Quarterback time.

The news is all over that the LTTE has been defeated. Prabhakaran is probably dead. (Though the LKGOV's statements are best taken with a grain or ten of salt - remember the 60,000 civillians who suddenlt became 200,000?) But the LTTE are pretty much done.

It was almost funny to see them make a statement that We have decided to silence our guns.

Almost.

Now I guess its time to look back and see where the went wrong. After all, hindsight is 20/20.

Killing Rajiv Gandhi

Yes, there isn't any proof. But it seems obvious that the LTTE did kill Rajiv Gandhi in 1991 (it feels a lot longer). Biting the hand that feeds you is not a recommended tactic. And that alone cost the LTTE a lot.
Not quitting while they were ahead

1999 to 2004 was the best time for the LTTE. They had a de facto country, and they were in a very strong bargaining position. If Prabhakaran had played it right he could have got a place in parliament. Sure they can bring down weapons. Sure they can ready for war. As someone once said, There is no peace. There is only 'Open fire!' and 'I need to reload!'

Both sides were reloading as fast as possible. LKGOV not so fast because they were running out of cash, but the LTTE were going great guns (pun only partially intended).

But by refusing to talk and try to fix the problem instead of keeping on fighting, the LTTE lost what was a golden opportunity.
Killing Lakshman Kadirgamar

Lakshman Kadirgamar would probably have been the greatest ally the LTTE had. A senior player in the political field, a Tamil from Jaffna, a Christian (like Prabhakaran), and an internationally recognised figure. It is possible to see a pragmatist like him helping to bring the LTTE into the mainstream and political process if they had ever shown some willingness to do so. Despite all that, they killed him. This was guaranteed to ensure that they were not taken seriously in the political level, as well as that they would lose support of the moderate Tamils.
Helping The Beast win

This is possibly the biggest mistake that the LTTE made. They took money from The Beast to make sure that the Jaffna populace didn't vote and that The Beastwon.

Maybe they felt that they could win. Maybe they figured that this would be another war like the other wars. No matter what they felt, they sold themselves for a few million rupees. One hopes that it was worth it.

Looking back you can always go what the fuck was I thinking!!!??

And most of the time we don't know. As the old saying goes it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I want YOU.. to spy for the Government

2009-05-11T20:08:00.004+05:30

Rant

Isn't it fucking fun? The LKGOV wants us to report all foreigners who are criticising the LKGOV and the Glorious Forces (sounds like a band from the 70s). The Ministry of Immigration & Emmigration even has a phone number for people to use as a hotline. And the media (radio stations especially) are shouting it out at the top of their lungs. In fact, they are asking you to report anyone, no matter what the skin colour.

This pisses me off mightily. The LKGOV is so scared of criticism and people showing what fuckups are happening that they want to have people spying on each other. Kind of like The Spies Among Us. Very KGB and Hitlerian.

Of course, some of you may approve of it. I won't tell you not to. After all, it's a free country (as long as you don't criticise The Beast, or the LKGOV, or The Glorious Victorious Humanitarian Forces, or Mad Merv, or pretty much anyone in power). The LKGOV loves people like you.

But anyway, if this pissses you off as much as it does me, read on.

I'm not going to go on about how fucked up and screwed up all this is. You all know it is. Lets talk about how this is unimplementable.

Point the first, hearsay is not applicable in a court of law. There are exceptions of course, but that is the gist of it. Point the second, how are you going to report someone? Call them up and say Yes, I was in a bus and heard these people criticising the Glorious Peacekeeping Government. No, I don't know who they are, but they must be somewhere in Colombo. Point the third, how are they going to make sure if it happened? Or do they just deport people on your say-so? Nice way to get rid of any honkies you don't like. A white guy takes your seat at the bar? Call the hotline. Cool huh?

So there it is, a wonderful PR stunt, that is unimplementable.

Now... Wanna have some fun?

This is so open to having fun and abusing it's like shooting fish in a barrel.

Let's take the procedure a step at a time shall we?

Step 1:

Do not use your phone! They may have caller ID, and that doesn't make it fun. Use a phone booth. Don't use a Communication Center, why get some innocent fucker in trouble?

Step 2:

Call the number they gave - 0115329380

Step 3:

Tell them you heard someone criticisng the Glorious Wonderful Loving Kind Government Of Free Sri Lanka, who promise to give us candy, and cheap food, and even a pony once the people are saved from the Evil Child-Raping Mother-Molesting Henious LTTE Terrorists.

Step 4:

When they ask you who, where, and what they said, try the following.

Ranil Wickramasinghe, in Parliament, criticised the LKGOV for not carrying out the war properly and to the utmost
Hillary Clinton, David Miliband, and Bernard Kouchner, in multiple statements, accused the LKGOV of "failure to protect civilians."
Gordon Weiss, in a report to AFP, accused the LKGOV of shelling the CFZ and killing 100 children (which we all know can't happen because the LKGOV doesn't use any heavy weapons there).
M. Karunanidhi, in many interviews, criticised the Glorious LKGOV

If you're feeling particularly nasty, tell them your mom, last night, just after I fucked her.

Step 5: (Optional)

Laugh horribly

Good luck, I've got some phone calls to make.

EDIT 2350LKT - Added link to news report quoting hotline number.

Life, Love, and Hookers

2009-04-06T14:20:00.002+05:30

Muse

The time is 0645.

I just spent the last ten hours with some friends of mine who had flown down from the US.

First we went to Cheers for alcohol, and then we spent a large amount of time looking for a place to drink, because Cheers closes down at 0200.

We ended up in a hook joint. Want something more specific? It was a whorehouse. A place of ladies of negotiable virtue. It was also a club, with a large dancefloor and techno music. But primarily it was a hook joint. You'd go there for a drink and a dance and a bed in the back. That's where we were.

And as according to the policy there, (or at least according to what I could see) all guests are to be escorted and accompanied by a hostess, our table was joined by one. Our table. Our table which had four guys and two women.

I have to say, the place had a lot of lovely young ladies. In various shapes and sizes to cater to every taste. From the tall and thin, to the stocky to the petite. All in various kinds of clothing. ranging from the short, to the tight jeans, to the semi-business suit that the woman with us was wearing.

The thing is, the woman with us reminded me way too much of the 'Softie.

It's been over a year since we broke up, and I have not seen her in a very long time. But this hooker reminds me of her She looks like her. She sounds like her. And she's sitting next to me. And she's sitting next to me in the same way that the 'Softie used to. Next to me and a little away from me, but with some form of physical contact. Watching me and my friends go crazy and do crazy shit. I am quite drunk.

My friends note her interest in me. Or, lets face it, interest in the little that's in my wallet. Nice guys - and girls - they are, they egg her on. This is going to be hilarity for everyone. And so she does hit on me. Makes it quite obvious that she is available if I have the cash.

But I have to refuse because she looks like the 'Softie. There was this massive temptation to talk to her. To just chat. To flirt. There was a temptation to take her up on the offer. There was a temptation to take her and fuck her like it was going out of style.

But I didn't. The power imbalance was way too wrong. Because there was also the temptation to take her in my arms and comfort her (as if she needed comforting) and say let me take you away from all this

She would have all the power and I would probably be just the dupe.

It doesn't have to be that way. After all, as far as I'm concerned prostitution is just a profession. She sells her body, I sell my mind, and as a friend of mine once said we both whore out or dignity for cash.

There are cases where men have married pornstars. There are fairytales where men have married hookers. I have no problems with hitting on a woman and finding out she's a hooker. I don't have issues with marrying one or anything like that. But starting off at this point and getting into a relationship with her is a non-happening thing. If i ask her and she takes it professionally instead of personally, I'll end up blowing all my cash on someone who doesn't care about me. Not that I haven't done it before many times, but no one who didn't care about me went out of her way to make sure she gets every centavo I have (this maybe because I am seriously lacking in centavos). If she takes it personally, I'll always be worrying if she's with me, or with my full-of-cobwebs wallet. On the other hand, I would always be wondering if i was with her, or the 'Softie in my head. And she would be too.

So as we left, in memory of the 'Softie I left her a thumping tip. And I walked away.

My PSP Saga

2009-04-02T18:53:00.000+05:30

Muse

My life seems full of sagas.

No, not the Norse kind. Not like Gilgamesh. Or Odysseus. In fact not like anyone cool at all. It's just things that happen. And happen. And happen. And then end up becoming this weird uber-crazy insane thing that kind of snowballs into the stuff of legend. Or possibly cautionary tale.

I had a laptop saga. I got in more trouble that my life is worth. And for some people I am more trouble than I am worth. But the thing is, these sagas (I keep having the urge to call them by the faux-Latin sagae) make are what makes my life (almost) worth living. It definitely makes my life worth blogging.

This, as if the title wasn't a clue, is my PSP saga.

Many, many moons ago the 'Softie gave me a PSP gaming console for my birthday. It was way cool. I loved it. I never realised how cool it was to play games on it until I tried it.

I was one of the generation that grew up on LCD-based hand-held games. Absent the gaming consoles popular in America, we made do with little game-and-watch machines. Mario would forever climb the scaffolding, and Donkey Kong, and his side-kick Donkey Kong Jr. would constantly swing on the vines.

We had a few gaming arcades, usually a small shop with either Space Invaders or Galaga. One even had the table version of Centipede. But they all disappeared when someone went to Las Vegas and discovered that you could get electronic gambling machines, and made them popular here. Admittedly before the disappearance they became extremely popular, everyone seemed to have a gambling machine on the premises. But that soon finished when the Premadasa government discovered them too. Like all governments, they maintained that vices could only be legal if they (or their hench-men) were getting a cut of it. So all arcade games were declared illegal, confiscated, and destroyed. Even the purely game machines.

During that time, I played a version of Pong on a machine connected to the TV. And various games on my Sinclair ZX Spectrum (16 colours! 16k of RAM! WOOHOO!). My introduction to PCs brought games like Thexder and Leisure Suit Larry. Bootleg copies of Prince of Persia, Turbo Outrun, Death Track, and Golden Axe filled my nights and Poya days. I played Wolf3d, Doom, and Duke Nukem 3D. I got into Dune, Warcraft, Starcraft, and Diablo. I spent many a sleepless night trying to take over the world in Civilization.

OK! I'll get on with my story. Sheesh! I was just trying to lay some foundation here. So the Saga continues..

Anyway, I loved the PSP. I played it, and I possibly got a little obsessed with it. My friend Bud helped me hack the firmware and get it to use software on a MemoryStick Duo. It was a cool machine, and it went many places with me.

Then sometime during SFD2007, while I was taking part in an event, it went missing. Since it was in my bag, and put away (I thought) safely, I have to figure it was stolen.

I was pissed off. I was also more than a little disgusted that someone would steal from my bag during an event. But there it was. Or more to the point, there it was not.

So I no longer had a PSP. That was 15 levels of piss-offing. Hey it's my blog and I can make up words if I want to.

That wasn't the worst thing that happened that year, but sometimes I think it was the kick-off point.

I went on without it of course. It was a luxury, and I could do without it. Or I kept telling myself.

But I really missed it after my accident. I was confined to bed for two weeks, unable to move. I couldn't concentrate enough to blog. In fact I was - to use a medical technical term - pretty fucked up. I wanted to have something, anything to take my mind off what had happened, and more than once, more than 10 times, I found myself saying/thinking/wishing damn! I wish I had the fucking PSP!

Since I lost the PSP I had been trying to buy one. I had my eye on the Darth Vader PSP. Then the screaming purple one. But I never had the money. I also wanted the PSP-1000. This was the original model and was guaranteed to be hackable.

Today, after more than a little work, I have some cash. Did a few contracts, and I have decided that a PSP would be mine. I went looking for a PSP-1000, but all they had was a P!nk special edition. And since it was endorsed by and promoting Pink the artist, it was also, obviously, pink in colour. Not just pink, but Pink! A flaming pink that would have guys in fashionable clothes trying to chat me up. It was also about LKR10,000 more expensive than the PSP-2000.

I also decided against the PSP-3000 because 6 months after launch it has not been hacked. This either means that the PSP-3k is a) unhackable because Sony learned from their mistakes, or b) Dark Alex has been bought or killed (or both).

So with the toss up between the 1000 and 2000, I guess I'll be buying the 2k. I haven't bought it yet, I am at the Majestic City food court having lunch and trying to get my thoughts in order.

If I can sneak aboard a hotspot I'll be uploading this soon.

If not, it will be when I get to TLC.

So the PSP will be bought. Probably a 2000. And Bud and I will get together and create a Pandora battery with his PSP-1000 and hack mine.

And I will have a PSP in my hands again.

Mahinda: Bandaranaike For A New Generation

2009-03-31T11:24:00.002+05:30

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

2009-03-20T15:20:00.003+05:30

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

2009-03-20T11:08:00.002+05:30

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.

Free Hugs

2009-03-16T19:31:00.002+05:30

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?

2009-03-13T18:23:00.000+05:30

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

2009-03-09T13:15:00.003+05:30

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.

Acceptance, or Doing Nothing

2009-02-28T12:36:00.000+05:30

Muse

I was out with the parental units the other day. There's a new Italian restaurant in town, and the food is good. So I decided to take them out.

On the way we got stopped at the Wellawatte checkpoint. Since I was the one not driving, I gave my driver's licence.

Yes, my driver's licence. It is what I show at checkpoints.

Of course the copette who was there - rather cute too I might add - asked me for my ID. I said ,That is a valid ID.

At which point she insisted on seeing my National Identity Card. I kept on telling her the same thing.

That is a valid ID. Issued by the government.

The law does not state that you have to show your ID. It merely states that you have to establish your identity. In fact, there is no law that states that all people should have National Identity Cards.

So, if a government-issued document with your picture on it - and lets face it, all ID cards have old and unrecognisable pictures - is not good enough to establish your identity? Then what is?

Things were getting heated, when my parents started yelling at me to just show your damned ID card!

So I did. Not because of anything, but I was taking my parents out for dinner, and I really didn't need the bad blood this creates in my family. On the way, my parents were haranguing me about my actions. Why do I borrow trouble? Why don't I just show my ID? Why not just follow the status quo and move on?

Simple. I don't like the status quo.

I don't like giving powers they don't have to people.

I don;t like my freedoms being taken away from me.

Since I was a kid I have seen what happens to people who get power, especially the little people. To quite the (often misquoted) Baron Acton ,All power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

The problem is, we have been taught from a young age to bow to power, to not upset the apple-cart, to unquestioningly accept what is said. And this is being used against us. The rights we have are being taken away from us not de jure but de facto. Not by law, but by the simple fact of it. Things that are not against the law are being punished because people believe that it is against the law.

Let's take a few examples. A long time back, the cops used to raid guest houses and take the couple they found there away. They would be harassed, mocked, and finally released after a bribe was paid. One couple among the many taken in like this, on a raid that was done under the Prevention of Terrorism Act decided to fight it. They were both adults, and were not doing anything illegal. They had just come there to have a good time. When they were arrested, they went to court and fought. And won. This gave the cops the message that they cannot harass the couples who were in a guest room if they prove that they are not part of the terrorists. So if you ever have to go for a dirty weekend (or day, or night, or afternoon, or one-hour quickie) they are the people you should thank for making it possible.

Another example. A good friend of mine was having a post-prandial at Green Cabin in the outside area. You know the place. It has a roof on it, some tables, but not much else. Some guy comes up to him and says that it is illegal to smoke in public areas. So my friend, who is a visitor to dotelkay, puts away his cigarette. He tells me this later, and I explain to him that the law says that you can't smoke in enclosed public spaces. The place he was smoking in was not enclosed, and he could have told the guy to fuck off and die. But he's a nice guy who doesn't know the laws.

Buy us unquestioningly accepting the supposed laws they have, we are not just destroying our rights, but those of the people around us. And these rights were fought for by our forefathers. If we are willing to fight tooth, nail, and claw for the dining set that our great-uncle left us in his will. why are we not fighting for these?

So that is why I go out of my way to make life difficult for the cops and anyone else in power who wants to exert that power on me. I want to know what rights we have and what we don't have. I want to know the strength of the law that we have on the side of the people.

But there are many people who are willing to fight the creeping removal of our rights. One example is a guy who got arrested for not showing his ID in the US. Go, read the story, I'll wait.

But the issue in that story is not what happened. It is what happened after the event. He decided to fight it. He decided to fight for what was undeniably his right. And he would have won it too. Admittedly it may have been a long battle, but he would have won. The problem was his family. His family put pressure on him to not fight the case. To accept a lower charge and plead guilty. His family wanted him to plead guilty because they didn't like the inconvenience.

It is easy for my family to do the same thing. To say give up. Give in. Let them do their thing as long as you're not inconvenienced. But that is not the point is it?

The point is that we should always fight for our rights. If we don't, they get used to eroding them and the courts get used to fining us and punishing us for something that isn't wrong in the first place.

Let me leave you with another quote, this one attributed to Edmund Burke.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.

I am.. You are.. He is..

2009-02-22T21:25:00.004+05:30

Muse

You've all heard the triple standard. I am one thing.. You are a slightly less acceptable way of looking at the same thing.. He is acting in a way that is completely unacceptable. We are all doing the same thing.

Want an illustration? Here's one. I have reconsidered my options. You have changed your mind. He has gone back on his word.

We can get sexual too. I am experimentative. You are kinky. He's a fucking pervert.

Nice isn't it. The acceptability of an action is based on who is doing it. It is acceptable for certain groups to act in one way. It is unacceptable for another group to act in the same way.

I was at a seminar yesterday, organised by the Mad Monk. The famous half of the duo known as The Monk and The Punk. I'm the infamous half.

The event had a speech/presentation by a apparently well-known media personality. An announcer, and presenter. At least everyone else there seemed to know him. I am not quite so knowing. But that's just me. He was talking about the ethics of being a media presenter. About being a socially conscious media person.

All well and good I guess.

Then he started talking about protecting our culture. When people start talking like that, I tend to switch off. After all, things like culture and values and morals are not static things. They change. They are modified. And anyone who tries to say that they want to go back to the old culture is simply trying to create an excuse for repressing you. he just wants an excuse to fuck you up. The culture/morals/values he espouses are at best outdated, and usually made up from a rose-coloured glasses view of what the culture used to be.

He starts talking about a Valentine's day demonstration that was supposedly held at Victoria Park. Apparently it was sponsored by the big media organisations and had teenagers and schoolchildren walking around with posters, banners and placards saying things like set us free to love. The quote is not directly from the supposed demonstration, but from the speaker's memory of it. Personally, I am not sure this demonstration even happened. I used to read the papers those days, but I don't remember it. It's not showing up on any google searches. If someone can tell me that this happened, and point me to the relevant pages I would be happy to give that link a place in this article. So far, to quote something that is popularly said on the forums - pics, or it didn't happen. Or to put it more succinctly - prove it!

The point he makes is that the corporations made use of teenagers to promote Valentines Day. He spoke long and loud about the evil done to these kids by utilising them for the nefarious purposes of the corporations.

Then he goes on to say that the following year, the monks got together and on ValDay took a bunch of teenagers all dressed in white around Victoria Park with white lotuses in their hands, praising the dhamma etc etc etc. You get the idea.

I had the urge to ask him, didn't the monks do the same thing that the corporations did. Didn't they use the kids to further their own agenda. Were the kids on both occasions not used as simple promotional items? I didn't. I wasn't officially part of the event, and I didn't want to screw things up for the Mad Monk. So I kept my mouth shut. But I that told me what kind of a person I am listening to. And that means that the person lost a lot of credibility as far as I am concerned. The lack of proof of any pro-ValDay promotional events of the sort he has mentioned, drops his credibility even further.

But the main thing I took from this is his double standard. Possibly even hypocrisy.

This double standard is everywhere. There are people like that all around us. They may even be us. Look around you. Listen to those around you. Listen to yourself. Look in the mirror.

One of the Litmus tests for this in Sri Lanka is the war. The standards people apply to the LTTE are not the ones that they apply to the LKGOV. The LTTE bombs a civilian target, it is screamed at, shouted, condemned. The LKGOV bombs civilians, no one says a word. After all, it is a war. It is accepted, even lauded. Of course, the LKGOV, being in charge of all the media, whether officially or through various legal and illegal forms of Chilling Effects, can lie to us.

But war and conflict is where a lot of such things happen. People are willing to accept things on the part of their supported side that they self-righteously condemn in their opposition. If it was bad for the Germans and Japanese to run Concentration camps, then why was it OK for the American Government to do the same thing to Americans of German and Japanese descent during the First and Second World Wars respectively? While the American camps were not the Death camps of the Germans and Japanese, but the conditions were horrific. Why do we condemn the war criminals of the Nazis, while Bomber Harris who orchestrated indiscriminate and large scale bombings of German cities is given a knighthood and a peerage.

The LTTE holds a Heroes Day, which is derided by the LKGOV as well as many people, and when the LKGOV holds a similar event, the soldiers and veterans are féted. Are the soldiers of the LTTE not heroes in their own right? Have they not also fought for something they believe in? But the double standards remain.

The point of all this is here. If we are going to apply certain standards, they must be applied across the board. Equally. Totally. Impartially.

There are few who can do that. Most of us are willing to followed the clichéd I am.. you are.. he is.. formula. I try to do otherwise. I am not good at it, but I try.

What about you?

ABBA goes metal..

2009-02-15T16:40:00.002+05:30

Rave

Yes, you heard me right.

ABBA. Goes. Metal.

What. The. Figgedy. Fuck!!!

I grew up to ABBA. I'm sure a lot of you guys did too. And no matter what you listen to, whether you love them or hate them, you've probably heard them.

It is a standard of this wild and weird thing we call the internet that there is always something out there. Stuff that you don't expect to see. Stuff that you never thought you'd see. Stuff that you hope/pray/beg/plead that you'd never see. The Goatse Guy, TubGirl, 2 Girls 1 Cup and many others we wish we never saw. So many examples of Rule 34, some bad, some horrible.

And I ran into this. A bittorrent file that points to A Tribute to ABBA. Sounds good. After all, it's a tribute, to ABBA! But then comes the kicker. It's all done by metal bands. No, not bands of metal. Metal Bands. This scares me. This scares me. Disturbs me. Freaks me the fuck out. Kinda like a Groucho Marx glasses and mustache on the Mona Lisa.

But it arouses me. It calls to me. It makes me wonder ,what the fuck!!

So I put it on my download queue and pull it down. I listen to it.

I like it.

Really.

There. I said it. I like the metal bands singing ABBA.

For you purists out there. This may not be really metal. Or this may not be really ABBA.

But this tribute really is that. A tribute. Done with love and respect.

The songs are pretty much the same. Not many changes. Maybe a word or two. The musical theme pretty much the same. But there is a metalness about it. Stronger guitars and basslines. A slightly more strident vocal line. While the music was thematically the same, there was enough of a difference to make it worth listening to. Enough ABBA to seem familiar and bubblegum enjoyable. Enough metal to headbang.

Yes, I said headbang.

It is possible that headbanging to ABBA is a sign of the Apocalypse. Kind of like Pat Boone singing Metal. But I did it. There are tracks there, that coupled with the fact that it is ABBA made me headbang.

So yes Sri Lanka, there is a Metal album of ABBA tracks.

An yes, it's interestingly good, and, if you're an ABBA fan. worth listening to.

Non-lossy FLAC format - http://www.torrentz.com/534b4366404773f6f936202557f5a5e730887010

Lossy MP3 format - http://www.torrentz.com/752e4eefd3beeeb60241bcb84d467d5664a7dd0b

Not a Sri Lankan

2009-02-15T11:18:00.002+05:30

Muse

Something very interesting happened to me. I was told by a friend of mine that she doesn't consider me a real Sri Lankan.

What do I say to that? I have been called that, and many other things before. Including the famous kalu sudda or dark white man or, for any of you who understand American cultural references, an Oreo. Like the cookie/biscuit I am supposedly black on the outside and white on the inside. Yes, it's an insult. Yes I have been called that many times in my life. Even by people who I thought loved me. Actually that time hurt.

But here I am. Being told by someone, that she doesn't consider me a real Sri Lankan. But it wasn't an insult. She's not from Sri Lanka and doesn't have the cultural insult power of a Sri Lankan telling me that. And - Eris help me - I agree with her.

I am not a Sri Lankan any more. At least not in the sense that people who claim to be real Sri Lankans are.

I don't believe in all the bullshit patriotic shit that we do. I don't stand up for the national anthem. I don't believe it is a bad thing to burn the flag. I don't give up my seat on buses to priests. I don't say my country, love it or get out. I disagree with all politicians. I believe in things like freedom, and libertarianism. The right to do what you want as long as you don't mess with someone else.

I sing mainly English songs, and listen to them. I read in English. I speak English more than I speak Sinhala. I don't speak Tamil at all. What few words I know, are like most guys, basically swearing and obscenity. I don't like tea, I prefer coffee, or, better than that, Mountain Dew. I think and dream in English. I know Western popular culture better than I know Sri Lankan.

I gave up the label Sinhala a long time ago. I used to identify myself as Sri Lankan but I am one only in name. It's the only passport I have, so I guess I'm stuck with that label.

But I am not Sri Lankan, not anymore.

There, I said it. I accepted it. I live it.

So what am I then? What does this mean to me?

I still love this country, I think it's a great place to live. I love the fact that I can hang at Mount beach on Sunday evenings - or go further south if I feel the desire. I love that I can buy cheap weed, that the people are more or less friendly. That we still know how to have fun.

But I am not a Sri Lankan any more. I am a stranger in my own land.

I am Suchetha. I am a human being.

A rave for CommBank

2009-02-08T23:42:00.002+05:30

Rave

This blog is called Rants, Raves, and Miscellaneous Musings. I've been ranting for a while (though not often enough) and I have been miscellaneously musing. But I find that I have not been raving. Or in short I haven't been handing out kudos.

Maybe its because there are so few kudos to hand out. And no you stupid freak, I do not mean the bar/pub/babejoint in Colombo.

I decided to go AirTel. Hey, if it was good for Sanga, or was it Mahela, well.. one of them anyway.. its good for me. Not AirTel, but the freedom to switch. And lets face it, they did make a good offer. So I do a switch.

So here I am in the AirTel office. The one on Duplication Road, right opposite the British Council. I'm waiting to get a connection, postpaid of course. And they say they want a proof of residence. Fair enough, I say.

What would you like? Yours Truly asks.

They want a light bill (don't have one), a water bill (ditto), pay slip (freelance? pay slip? pay???), cellphone bill (hold on, I thought I was switching from a prepaid to postpaid) or bank statement (in this day and age of electronic banking who actually has time to read bank statements. And in this economy, who has money to have bank accounts?)

So looks like I'm fucked. And not in a good way with peanut butter and chocolate sauce. Did I just say that out loud?

Then I remember, I have a bank account, albeit slightly used with somewhere between zero to, well, zero rupees in it. And its at the Commercial Bank. Over in Kohuwala. But they have a branch right opposite the AirTel office.

So I cruise on in. Speak to a teller and ask him if I can get a statement.

Sure, the guy says. And I smile. Looks like the new phone link will be mine.

Oh, he says, and my smile sinks to my bellybutton and points south.

Apparently I have an account. Good. I have asked to not have statements sent to me. Of course I did that. I do not want my house cluttered with envelopes I don't bother reading. And since all it would say is opening balance 0.00/closing balance 0.00 I think I'm not missing much. Maybe that's just me. But this is, apparently, a Bad Thing. This means that they can't give me a bank statement.

Then the teller, he comes up with an idea. Since all I need is something showing my address, he can print out the account details screen. Print it on CommBank paper, and get it stamped.

Do it, say I. And he does.

He takes it to the manager, gets it signed, and has it to me in 15 minutes.

I take it to AirTel, and am waiting for my connection to go active. That took time. But that is another story.

So a big rave out to the guys at Commercial Bank. Sure they don't have front office tellers in short skirts like HSBC, or fancy drawings and lotteries (like almost anyone else). But really. who needs it? CommBank does the job, and give great service. Nothing more, and nothing less. Definitely the place I like keeping my non-existent money in.

There is nothing wrong with your television set.

2009-01-10T16:50:00.002+05:30

Muse

Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling the transmission. If we wish to make it louder, we will bring up the volume. If we wish to make it softer, we will tune it to a whisper. We will control the horizontal. We will control the vertical. We can roll the image; make it flutter. We can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarity. For the next hour, sit quietly and we will control all that you see and hear. We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your television set. You are about to participate in a great adventure. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to the Outer Limits.

Remember that phrase? Do you remember The Outer Limits? Or maybe >The Twilight Zone? No? How about Tales From the Dark Side?

Still no?

Well hearken to me, and I will tell you a tale. Or something like one

Welcome to Sri Lanka. A land where everything is beautiful. The people are happy and content. The rulers are benevolent, kind and uncorrupt. The laws are just. And the minor altercation in the North, very minor, against a ruthless and cruel foe who does nothing but kill women and children and rape little girls, is being won with the glorious forces of what is right and good, who are happily welcomed by the people they are liberating, not suffering so much as a hangnail. Where, at the same time just so that we can enjoy our lives, the heroic forces are risking their lives and sacrificing their futures and suffering a thousand travails against a ruthless and cruel foe who does nothing but - oh wait. I said that part already.

Welcome, to the mind-control that is Sri Lanka.

Does anyone remember the Shrub on an aircraft carrier? Why does that seem so familiar? Maybe because it has a lot in common with this pic of The Beast. Both were staged. Both were used to to show that they are not afraid to go to war. Or to a war zone. Or maybe to a carrier that was a whopping thirty miles from land.. People now know that the carrier picture was a fake. A photo-op. A set up job. The Shrub never flew the plane. Just had his hands on the controls for a bit. He never landed it. The White House created the famous Mission Accomplished banner and hung it up. And more people have died since he said Mission Accomplished than before. At least the White House is ashamed of it. Karl Rove, former Deputy Chief of Staff, stated soon after I wish the banner was not up there.

But of course The Beast and his ilk are, to say the least, shameless. And we, the people? We're fucking stupid. Seriously. Take a look at that photo. And see the others that came from the set. Remember the video that came with it? Are we to believe that The Beast would go anywhere where he is ever remotely at risk? He even gives his speeches behind a bullet-proof shield - something which even the American President, who has more powerful enemies than our one, doesn't do. Would someone like that actually walk in an area where he was not protected by many hundreds of armed soldiers? Or maybe you think that the image, a president, surrounded by tough looking members of the STF looks good. It's so macho. So John Wayne. So Oliver Stone. So Rambo. So fake. Yes. Really. Its only in the movies that the machine gunners carry bandoleers of machine gun belts on their body. The original bandoleer was for single bullets, which would be pulled off the bandoleer and loaded one by one into a rifle. An ammunition belt, on the other hand, is ammunition that comes for a belt-fed machine gun, like the American M60, and the Russian Kalashnikov PK (the ones they are carrying in the picture). And the machine guns are notoriously temperamental. Any dust or dirt in the belt can and will cause it to jam. And the one thing you do not want happening in a firefight is your gun jamming up on you. Which is why linked ammo comes in boxes that are only opened when necessary. And lets not forget the ammo wrapped around the barrel of the gun. A barrel that heats up severely as you fire it, wrapped with bullets powered by incendiary chemicals, adds up to a very nasty combination. And yet this is being put up on posters, put up on a massive billboard at Thunmulla Junction, and people still believe it.

The war itself started with a scam. The ADB gave the LKGOV a lot of aid to be given to the farmers in the East. This money was supposed to be deployed to farmers on both sides of the battle lines. And the money was used only on the Government controlled sides of the Great Divide. Obviously, the LTTE wasn't happy about this. I'm not saying the money would have all gone to the farmers. Hell, very little of it went to the farmers on this side of the fence too, but they were supposed to get it. And quite obviously, they cut off the water at Mavil Aru. No killing. Nothing major. Just a simple case of you don't give us aid, we won't give you water. Come to think of it, that was pretty fair. But what the LKGOV was looking for, was an excuse. And we all remember what Mavil Aru lead to. It lead to the LKGOV unilaterally breaking the CFA, starting a war, and many people dying. Why? Because The Beast needs a war as much as Prabhakaran needs a war. A war to hold on to power, a war to scare us into giving up all the peoples' rights to him, and most of all, a war to make money.

But the media portrays the war as a humanitarian one. One being fought to liberate the poor people of the North from the evil clutches of the LTTE. Much like the war in Iraq the US is currently engaged in. They said it was about WMDs. They said it was about liberating the poor Iraqi people from a tyrant, but in actuality, it was simply about oil. We are told it is because the LTTE is re-arming, we are told the goal is to free the poor innocent people of the North from the clutches of the evil LTTE. But how do they do that? Simply by killing them, bombing them, and by hitting them any which way they can. I guess it is possible to save someone by killing them.

But the government is playing an incredibly well-played game of public manipulation. The facets of it are interesting to see. It is always good to know how you're being ass-raped. The start is in the media portrayals. Does it seem strange to you that we are fighting a war but are suffering no casualties? It sure seems that way to me. Oh don't mention the poor innocent DPU guy who so heroically died in the fighting. Every war needs someone to idolise. And what he was, was the equivalent of an LTTE suicide cadre. The DPUs go deep into LTTE territory and set off claymores, bombs, and carry out assassinations. Are we to assume that they have been quiet through the ceasefire? Or were they also acting as agents provocateurs? But I digress. The point is that there is absolutely no coverage of the huge numbers of people who have died during the war. This is not just the civilian dead, but also the huge numbers of soldiers who have died. Do you seriously believe that there have only been a few soldiers who died? I think the Brooklyn Bridge is still up for sale if you want it. I can get it for you for a special low, low price. Of course the first casualty of war is a lady called Truth. We all know that. Even during the other regimes we had the same thing happening. The papers used to carry whole sections of CENSORED sections. They had to write the news and then submit them for censorship. There was no hiding from the word. There was no way of saying that the government was saying that they didn't want you to tell the unpleasant truth. And the people were happy with that, and the news-media were strong enough to tell the government to go take a flying fuck at a full moon if they ever got too repressive.

It's all changed now. The white vans go around. The media are scared. In a blog post I wrote many moons ago called Bombs or Bullshit I mentioned something a friend of mine, a reporter, said, in the white van era, no-one does investigative journalism. the white vans come, they lift you, and just like the in the days of the KGB, and the SS. The only difference is that the white vans are unofficially Government funded and operated while their, for want of a better word, inspirations were official.

The Government controls the media. And through the media it controls the people. And how does it control the media? Well watching the history of it all is rather disturbing. It started off with the famous MiG-27 Deal. The Beast asked the media and the newspapers not to demoralise the forces while they were attacking. This was the beginning. Any questions about corruption were suddenly pushed aside as demoralising the great and glorious forces who are giving their lives. Then the more insidious campaigns started. A law that made it an act of treason to demoralise the forces was put forward. While it was never made into a law, the proposal was given great publicity in the media channels, both by people who were pro such a law as well as those who were against it.

Treason. Its a very powerful word, with lots of other connotations. Calling someone a traitor is to brand that person in a very powerful way. And governments have used the treason tag against anyone who doesn't agree with them. Witness George W Bush calling the New York Times traitors because they reported actions done by the USGOV which violate, if not the letter, then the spirit of the law. The Beast did the same thing. It became treasonous to attack the morale of the forces by publishing the details of the corruption in the forces. With The Beast as the Commander in Chief and his younger brother Gotabhaya Rajapakse (aka Beast Jr.) as the Defence Secretary, it is quite obvious were the billions of rupees stolen in various defence contracts went. The personal attacks on journalists, by phone, by thugs (Mad Merv being one of them), or, as in the case of two reporters from Associated Newspapers (the LKGOV's print media mouthpiece), called to Beast Jr.'s office and threatened in person.

Tarring all media and associated groups critical of the government as traitors has had a chilling effect on the media. Investigative journalism is dead. The on-line media, such as blogs and websites, are in danger of being stifled by the new law enacted by gazette. And far more insidious is the campaign being carried out by the government's supporters. The public is being more and more conditioned to fear and xenophobia. Insular-ism, conservatism, and chauvinism racial and religious are the order of the day. People are being conditioned to distrust others, look upon everyone with suspicion and fear. This culture of fear is stifling everyone. You walk down the road, you're looked on with suspicion. Get in a bus, its the same thing. We are told this is for your safety, but this culture of fear and xenophobia is what is helping the government maintain and gain more power. Our heightened sense of fear has not made us safer. It has only made us more fearful and more willing to give up the freedoms we once took for granted. But it is also making us more and more willing to not only ignore and accept, but also laud actions that most of us would normally condemn. The regular roundups of civilians, the killings and torture. the attacks on the media (especially the recent attacks on the MTV studios) are not condemned anymore. The killing of the editor of the Sunday Leader was pretty much ignored by the people. What is obvious is that the government is using its current victories in the North as a way to suppress all criticism. While the killings have an immediate effect, it is more likely looking forward at the elections that are pretty much guaranteed to be held after the war. It is telling that the killings and attacks happened soon before the government announced that it had captured the A-9 highway to Jaffna.

LKGOV does not announce news that is positive for it immediately. Footage of the fighting so eagerly watched by the rubbernecking masses is not Live as the embedded journalists would like us to believe. It is done well after the fighting is over. After the blood and guts and bodies, at least the bodies of the soldiers, are cleared away. It is extremely probable that Elephant pass was captured either on Wednesday or Thursday. The news was held until the LKGOV could prepare for it. How else do you explain that the news was immediately greeted by fireworks? Yes, its just after New Years Eve, and yes, we set off a lot of fireworks. But that was over a week ago. No one keeps fireworks that long. Especially not in Colombo. The fireworks were part of a concerted plan by the LKGOV to create a feeling that people are celebrating. This feeling of jubilation was used as the cover for the attacks and the killings. Especially since both MTV/MBC and Lasantha Wickramatunge were both highly critical of the war and the human damage it is causing.

But is just the media control leading to mind control. There are other, and more insidious controls that are happening. For a starting point, lets look at Wikipedia. The on-line encyclopedia that allows lots of people to contribute. The Beast and his administration have been working hard on wiki-washing. Want proof? Just look up the history on his wiki page. Wikipedia pages are full of edits pushing the LKGOV agenda. The entire media blitz is being rather deftly controlled. This control is far too deft to be an amateur. There is a media company organizing planning and implementing this. I don't know who they are, but I am sure there are people out there who do.

However, it is unlikely that this image/spin control group would be responsible for the gross abuses that are happening. Its hard to tell of course. But if the Stanford prison experiment and the Milggram experiment have shown us anything, it is that even the most stable and normal of people can become brutish when they are given power or have the responsibilities for their actions are taken away.

Either way the people are being oppressed and pushed away from exercising their freedoms. And anyone who wants to exercise his freedoms is being scared out of it. How many of us are willing to take photographs in the street. I still do. But I have been questioned more than once. We fear to take our bags on the buses because the security forces may decide to check and search us. The sight of all the cops and army and other forces people on the road do not give people a sense of safety. They give people a sense of unease and fear. The STF types riding around Colombo armed and masked on their trail-bikes remind many of us of the dark days of the late 80's where government sponsored vigilante groups like the Black Cats rode around in pretty much the same manner.

People are being pushed into paranoia and fear. And like the old tale of the monkeys and the banana and the water hose. What? Never heard it? Here it is:

Put five monkeys in a cage. Inside that cage, hang one banana on a string and place a ladder under it. Keep a garden hose nearby. Soon one of the monkeys will spot the banana and start to climb the ladder to get it. When he does, spray all of the other monkeys with cold water. Now, replace the banana.

After a while another one of the monkeys will probably go for the banana. Again, spray all of the other monkeys with cold water.

Monkeys are relatively smart, so pretty soon, whenever one of the monkeys attempts to climb the ladder, all the other monkeys will try to prevent him from doing it. When that happens, put away the cold water hose. Remove one monkey from the cage and replace it with a new one. Now hang a new banana over the ladder.

The new monkey will spot the banana and head for the ladder. To his surprise, all of the other monkeys will spontaneously attack him. After several more futile attempts, all of which will result in further beatings, the new monkey will no longer try for the banana.

Remove another of the original monkeys and again replace it with a new one. Now replace the banana. Again, the new monkey will make a grab for it. Like his predecessor he will be stunned to discover that all the other monkeys attack him. In fact, the previous newcomer will most likely take a particularly enthusiastic role in his replacement's punishment.

One at a time, gradually replace all of the original monkeys with new ones. Each of the newcomers will go for the banana. Each one will be attacked by the other four. Most of the new monkeys have absolutely no idea why they were not allowed to climb the ladder, or why they are participating in the assault on the newest monkey.

When all of the original monkeys have been replaced, none of the remaining monkeys have ever been sprayed with cold water. Nevertheless, not one of those monkeys ever approaches the ladder, why not? Because as far as they are concerned that's the way it has always been done around here.

Imagine that. There is very little risk of getting killed in a bomb. In fact you are far more likely to get hit by a car than get killed in a bomb. There are few LTTE members in Colombo. But people have been trained into xenophobia and fear. Now, like the monkeys, they would jump on anyone who acts differently from they way that they have been trained to

This war will probably be over soon. Unless Prabhakaran can come up with some kind of secret weapon. But it will be over. But I find it unlikely that the freedoms taken away from us will ever be returned to us. The government will always come up with a reason why we should bend over and take it for just a bit longer. And the governments that follow will learn too. And we will keep spiraling further and further into insanity.

Welcome to the mind-control that is Sri Lanka. A mind-control that is being put in place by the current government. A mind control that is imprisoning us all. A mind control that most of us are gladly accepting.

Ave duci novi. Similis duci seneci

2008-11-05T16:44:00.002+05:30

Muse

Or maybe it's cooler to say Ave bossa nova. Similis bossa seneca. Still don't get it? How about Hail to the new boss! Same as the old boss.

So Barack Obama won. He is the son of a Black man and a white woman, so I guess that makes him Black enough for American historians to say that he is the first Black president. Fair enough. After all I have seen Indian - I mean Native American - Princesses who were whiter than most White people. SO Obama can go down in history as whatever he wants. Of course this only proves something I have said since watching the 1992 elections. Americans will wote a black guy for president before they vote a white woman in.

So now we have Obama. Who hopefully will be a better President than the Shrub. But what have the Americans done, really? Is this as big a change as they think?

First off. I am not a McCain supporter. During the last election I was hoping he would win because he was the not-Bush. And this time Obama gets my support because he is the not-McCain-and-thank-eris-Biden-is-the-not-Palin. But really, is he any different?

The President of These United States (and yes, it is these) is supposed to be about freedom. And at least according to his voting record, Obama seems to be fairly close to it. Or is he? I went to Project Vote Smart - an online archive of senate bills, who voted for them, what they voted, and a lot of other information about the candidates. And what I saw there was, not exactly pretty. Obama voted to pretty much carry on things as they were in Guantanamo bay, famous for torture and other activities against civilians from around the world. He voted that gun manufacturers can face civil cases for damages caused by their guns (kind of like cigarette makes being liable for civil cases brought on by people who suffered at the hands of others who smoke).

The way things are shaping up, Obama looks to be an anti-abortion kinda guy. Maybe not as much as Palin is, but definitely up there. He doesn't seem to respect gun rights, or the right to smoke.

Obama also raised US$639 million in campaign contributions. Of that he has spent US$573 million. The list of campaign contributers ranges from big organisations who donated from 500,000 to 900,000 USD to small online donations. I got that info from Open Secrets. What's going to happen when the time comes to pay the piper?

So what will Obama's term be like? Its hard to tell. But Right now he is riding a crest of popularity, buoyed on by the current financial crisis. He may not have played the race-card, but race is a factor in his election. In three months the honeymoon will be over. he will have to bring the economy back under control. He came in because the country was tired of what Dubya had done to it. The economy in recession. Gas prices high.

He's going to have to pull some serious magic tricks out of his hat to make it come together. And when he doesn't what will happen?

This is the TV generation. They want a sitcom ending. 30 minutes minus commercial time to solve any problem. And he can't. So like most leaders before him, he will engage in short term plans. Do some handwaving and try to make all the problems disappear.

Just like Dubya, Clinton, Bush sr., Reagan, Carter, Nixon, and so many others before him.

I hope I'm wrong.

Remember, Remember, The Fifth Of November

2008-11-04T22:53:00.002+05:30

Muse

The gunpowder treason and plot / I see no reason / the gunpowder treason / should ever be forgot

It's the first verse of a traditional poem sung in the UK on Guy Fawkes Night - A celebration held on the 5th of November to commemmorate the failure of the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 to kill kill King James I and destroy the House of Lords.

Yes, that's right. They failed. And celebration of Guy Fawkes Night was made compulsory by Royal Decree, until the Decree was withdrawn in 1859.

The original goal of the celebration was to celebrate that the King escaped, and the Government survived. In other countries, like the fledgling Americas, it began to take a more anti-authoritarian turn. It was this attitude that set the stage for V for Vendetta a graphic novel by Alan Moore which was then adapted for a movie of the same name.

The Plot was simple, to kill the king, and then replace his mostly Protestant government with a Catholic one. The graphic novel was about a totalitarian government that stays in power through voter apathy, and the film was about how people were manipulated into voting, and then into helping maintain the party in power.

And therein lies the tale. The graphic novel has a better and scarier story, and the film has the better lines. But the basis for them all, including the original Gunpowder Plot, is something far more simple. That Governments have no idea. That their control should be limited. And that they should be opposed.

I am not sure I agree with Guy Fawkes. I don't trust those who would replace a government just to put another in its place. Are we merely exchanging one evil for another? But I agree with the graphic novel, and I agree with the movie. Governments should be taken down. Ripped down and stomped on. Power should return to those who need it most - the people.

This world is screwed up in style. Every government is becoming more and more repressive. From the Land of the Free, to the Sceptered Isle, to the Paradise Isle. Every government is trying to pull more and more of the power into itself. And power is a zero-sum game - the more power they have the less power we have, and since freedom is proportional to power, the less power we have, the less freedom we have.

And they know it. And we seem to be oblivious to it. We have people who are willing to toe the party line, and vote for the party no matter who is running. We have people who are begging for their rights and freedoms to be taken from them - some because they believe everything the government tells them, and others because they are so apathetic about life they have no wish to control the way their life goes.

And every time we give up a freedom to the government, it becomes impossible for us to get it back. Does anyone actually believe that the checkpoints will disappear? That the fucked up anti terrorism laws will be repealed? That the roadblocks and security guards given to each and every politician will just simply disappear overnight?

We have given powers to the army, the cops, the stoolies. Are we ever going to wrest that power away from them? Are they, like Cincinnatus going to give up their power, the power that they have lied, cheated, fought for, and killed for when its all over? If you believe that the answer is Yes the please contact me. I have a lovely bridge I would like to sell you.

And yet, it is those who fight against the controls of the government that are called terrorists. Journalists, rights activists, writers, the LTTE, they are all lumped together. They are vilified and attacked by the people, including the so-called educated and intelligent ones. And who does the branding? None other than the Government. It must be great, to be able to call anyone who doesn't agree with you a terrorist. Maybe you remember Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists. How about O con noi o contro di noi? The first was by George W. Bush. The second - meaning you're either with us, or against us - is by Benito Mussolini.

Life imitates art.

And V, the character in V for Vendetta seems to be the only person who fights them. Seems to be the only person willing to see what is going on. And on the 5th of November, he blows up parliament, albeit empty, He does it as a symbol. An attempt to rouse people from their apathy.

So remember, remember, the fifth of November. And also remember a quote from the movie.

People should not be afraid of their government. Government should be afraid of their people.

Bomb da Base

2008-11-02T20:17:00.002+05:30

Muse

The day before yesterday (the 28th of October) the LTTE carried out one of their (in)famous air raids. Starting from somewhere in the uncleared area they flew their little two-seater Zlin Z-143 light aircraft and dropped bombs on Mannar - and, according to the LKGOV, Colombo.

The attack in Mannar was at the Thalladi base, which injured a soldier. The attack on Colombo damaged a fan at the Kelani-tissa thermal power station.

The attack on Mannar doesn't raise too many questions. After all it is in Mannar. But the one in Colombo definitely has raised questions.

The big question raised is, What was the air force, and army doing for all this time?

It is not as if it takes a short time to fly down from Mannar to Colombo. Especially in light aircraft with a maximum speed of 220kph. So what were they doing?

This is, of course, the subject of much media speculation. Articles are written in all the non-governent papers asking what the government is doing. After all The Beast spent billions of rupees on buying the MiG 27 planes. Some of that money even went towards the purchase of the planes. You lot can figure out where the rest of the money went. It's not exactly rocket science.

Then there were the, other expenses. The costs of buying ground based radar to protect The Beast. The cost of buying loads of anti-aircraft batteries. Maintaining the stuff. Ammo. All of it. After all, the protection of the government is our protection right? Right?

But back to the story. The LTTE attacked Mannar. The little plane flew over, and dropped a few bombs.

Then almost simultaneously, they attacked Colombo. Simultaneously. At the same bloody time!

Now this is not easy. Simultaneous attacks on two different targets are, to say the least, a logistical nightmare. Its not like one of the planes can spend time hovering around one of the targets waiting for the other to be in position. Especially not when your entire air force is two, maximum three planes.

But they managed it. They managed to bomb Mannar, and Kelanitissa at almost the same time. At the maximum within 15 minutes of each other. Using light planes that can be blown off course, face headwinds, or just generally screw up. Attacking targets many hundreds of kilometers apart.

Or what if they didn't? The LKGOV tells us that the LTTE is a ruthless killer team with highly intelligent tacticians. Then they tell us that the LTTE is not as smart as we think. Which is it? Maybe it is both.

In 2007, when the LTTE attacked the Sapugaskanda oil refinery, they flew in, dropped two bombs, flew off. The bombs did not explode. The only casualty of the entire thing was a guy who died in Wellawatta. A suburb of Colombo, about 30 to 40km away. How does he die? When the LTTE attacked, the anti-aircraft batteries opened up. An unexploded shell crashed through his roof, and exploded in his room.

The basis of anti-aircraft artillery is to fire a shell that explodes in the air, filling the area with shrapnel. The currently used one is in the 40mm range. Meaning that it is 40mm in diameter. It goes up. It explodes. It fills the air with shrapnel. But what happens if it doesn't explode? What happens if the shell comes down. Then you are in the realm of ballistics. You have to wonder where the shells come down. And they often do come down unexploded. It was such a shell that killed the man in Wellawatta. Doing more damage than the bombs dropped by the LTTE.

Go get a map of Colombo. I'll wait. They have them all over the Internet. Draw a line from the President's house to wellawatte. Measure it. Now use that distance as a radius and draw a circle. Guess what falls in that radius. None other than Kelanitissa.

Now look at the videos online of all the ack-ack fire over Colombo that night.

While the LKGOV would love to have us think and believe that the LTTE attacked Colombo, it is far more likely that the attack was an unexploded shell. Fired by the forces who opened up at the sky at the merest hint of an attack, an unexploded shell wet into the sky, and came down in Kelanitissa.

With all this, it looks like LKGOV is doing more damage than the LTTE airforce is. I do hope they're proud.

Oh greed..

2008-10-01T09:16:00.002+05:30

Muse

Greed, they say, is good. And what a greedy bunch of get-rich-quick schemers we have in dotelkay.

Sakvithi made off with (supposedly) five billion rupees, Seagull Software (remember them) made off with about the same, GoldQuest (ah GoldQuest) made off with a lot more. Even if you don't believe the number, after all, this is dotelkay, where exaggeration is an art form, a hell of a lot of money was scammed by them.

But they're not the greedy bastards are they?

The greediest of the lot are the people who invested in them. And in my books, highly deserving of what they got.

Oh yes, here I am, an uncaring bastard who doesn't give a shit for those people whose money was lost. The poor ranaviruwas, pitiful patients, homeless newlyweds. My word to them, fuck 'em!

The issue is simple. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. If someone offers you a shitload of money for working a few hours a day at home, start asking yourself, why are they offering me this? After all, they're businessmen, and they're not in it for love. They're in it for money.

But people are idiots. And there are lots of scam artists who can make their money this way.

And look at who gets fleeced, and why. People invested the money looking for, guess what, more money! People are happy to get 6% interest per month. People are happy to not have to have their assets reported to the Inland Revenue Department. People are happy not to pay taxes. Or, as in the case of the many cops and government servants who invested money, they are happy not to get pulled in front of the Bribery Commission.

There are lots of people asking the government for help. They want the government to pay for their deposits. And when they say Government they mean us! The people smart enough not to get involved in this shit. And we're supposed to bail those idiots out?

There is an old saying, you can't cheat an honest man.

I doubt any of the people who invested in any of these scams are honest in the sense of the word.

Bombs or bullshit

2008-08-30T15:14:00.002+05:30

Muse

A bomb went off today at Pettah. According to the news reports, it was near the railway station. But something about this doesn't ring true to me.

I was in the Nugegoda bomb in November 2007. The Center, where I live and work, was less than 50 meters away. On that day, 16 people died. and over twenty were injured.

Today, the reports say that 43 were injured, But none were killed, and there were no serious injuries.

This begs the question. How did a bomb injure that many and not kill or seriously wound anyone?

The laws of physics say its impossible. Any force loses power based on the square of the distance traveled. Were 46 people crammed so tightly together that the blast managed to injure them all? But yet, none seriously?

The only way for such a thing to happen would be if the explosives were suspended in the air above them. Otherwise, the force of the blast would be absorbed by the items (bodies, bags, columns etc.) nearest the blast, shielding the others. A prime example was the Dehiwala train bomb in (I believe) 1996. There was a big blast, at rush hour, and many died, but not as many as we expected. The tightly packed bodies managed to confine the bomb blast and the shrapnel.

So what the hell is going on?

Option one is, it was a plant. And the government is very good at plantings and False Flag Operations. And we have seen them. The supposed claymore bomb in Borella in 2006, the two phone booths that exploded in Colombo in the beginning of 2008, causing damage to the phone booths but not to anyone else. All those things were used to justify the heightened security, the patdowns, the restrictions on people, and the curtailing of more and more of our freedoms. It was also used to justify the skyrocketing cost of living. So you set up a bomb, then have your stooges run into the hospital claiming injuries.

Option two: the people in Pettah are shamming. Flocking to the hospitals with even a minor injury, hoping that they'll get some kind of payment.

Option three: everyone was so lucky that the bomb went off selectively causing minor injuries only.

Personally I find option three to be highly improbable.

So what can anyone do. Before I started blogging I contacted my friends. Due to the way of my life, I have friends in the newspapers. So I spoke to them. One said to me, I'm too junior to write what you said, besides, in the white van era, no-one does investigative journalism.

The other, in a more important position said, it was a plant, but I don't want to talk about it on the phone. I'll talk to you later.

So it looks like no one is going to follow up on this. Nobody wants to see how bad the injuries are, or if they're consistent with a bomb-blast. Yet another story that gets swept under the rug.

So I blog. I blog what I can see, and knowing what I know. I can make connections others can't, or won't, and am suicidal enough not to care about what the government may do to me.

So let's look at the facts shall we? A bomb goes off, in what is one of the busiest areas in Colombo. Forty-five people in the surrounding area are injured. None of them seriously, and no-one is killed.

Does that smell fishy to you?

Spies Among Us (continued..)

2008-08-29T19:26:00.002+05:30

Rant

I wrote the article The spies among us inspired by something that happened to me.

One of the guys here had parked his car on the kerb and one of the stoolpigeons had called the cops about it. The cops came and talked to me and things went downhill from there.

The stoolpigeon came out and started watching my house, trying to get the number. Since I find that suspicious, I took out the camera and took photos of him.

I didn't make it a secret, in fact, its bloody hard to hide a DSLR camera in the first place. Since I couldn't get a shot, I went behind him and took the photos.

At no time was I hidden from him. At no time was I on anything but a public place. He went into a department store, and sat in full view of the people on the street, on a chair next to a massive plate-glass window.

I took pictures of him inside, as well as on his way out to confront me.

During the confrontation he tried more than once to hit me, and grabbed my shirt. He demanded I remove his pictures, but I refused.

Today the cops came. Apparently he had complained, and since he is a cop lapdog, I have to go and make a statement.

My statement will be simple. I have no idea who he is. He showed no ID. He was watching my house, and I got suspicious. Yes, he said that he was a member of the CPC, but that means nothing. I was in a public place, and he was in public view, and he has no expectation of privacy.

Now, for your delectation. Here are the pictures I took.

The spies among us

2008-08-29T11:27:00.002+05:30

Rant

Yes, this is real. No, I'm not being paranoid.

But first, a story.

A long time ago - but not so long ago that most of us can't remember it - there used to be an Evil Empire. An Empire so evil they were the target of anger, fear and gallows humour on the part of the people who lived there. Or escaped. Not that there were many that managed to escape. The border guards were there to keep people in more than to keep people out, and if you tried to escape - and many tried - you would be lucky to be sent to a gulag, or concentration camp. Escape was punishable, usually, by death.

This country was real. It was called the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, the USSR, the CCCP, or just the Soviet Union. And don't let any communists in Sri Lanka - or anywhere else- fool you. The USSR was a bad place to live. Constant hunger and starvation, a lack of consumer items, long lines for the basic necessities, all while the top guys lived in comfortable houses, ate and drank foodstuffs brought from around the world, had dachas - houses - furnished with the best of what was to offer in the West.

But the worst thing of all was the lack of freedom. No matter where you go, you would be asked - Your papers, comrade! Of course, this is not new. The German Gestapo - whose antics were far from the bumbling antics of Herr Flick of the Gestapo in the comedy 'Allo 'Allo - and their masters the Schutzstaffel or SS were some of the most virulent users of this tactic in current history.

But I digress. I speak of something far more dangerous and insidious. A practice used by the Gestapo, the SS, and the Komityet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosty or KGB, of the USSR. And not just those very popular entities. Countries such as China, Cuba, North Korea, and even the USA have used some form of Secret Police to keep tab of their citizens.

Citizens have been encouraged to spy on and report on their neighbours and friends. Children were told that it was a wonderful thing to turn in your parents for being anti-state.

But that was a long time ago right? In a totalitarian country far from here, right? Right?

In our towns and villages and neighbourhoods we had a group of people. Everyone did. They would look over fences and walls, visit homes in a friendly manner, take a good look around, and then go out and gossip it all to the people in the area. We used to call them busybodies, in some parts of the US they were called curtain-twitchers. And we all knew who they were and what they were up to. Even my parents have told me, more than once, to take my new toys inside because so-and-so is coming to visit. And I used to think that the person would steal my toys. Shows how much we know as kids.

But back in the day, those nosy sods, the busybodies were known. We knew who they were, we knew how to treat them. They would be shunned by society, blasted on the street. Ignored. What they said was given little credence because everyone knew that they were small-minded individuals whose main aim in life was to watch other people and gossip about them. Or maybe you remember them in school. The tattle-tales, the ones who would watch to see if you were doing something even slightly wrong and run off to tell the teacher.

Those, my friends, were the days.

Now, the shoe is on the other foot. The government has formed Civil Protection Committees. Ostensibly to watch for terrorist threats and report them. It was looked at with great enthusiasm. But the truth is, it has become nothing of the kind. The people attracted to such a duty are the gossips and nosy-parkers we were told to ignore as kids. The tattle-tales we used to beat up because their primary joy was to get us in trouble and gain a few good looks from those in authority. The stool-pigeons, the trustys, the spies. And they're now in the CPC. And they're watching us.

The thing is, they have no idea what a suspicious action is. All they know is to say that person is doing something I don't like, so I'm gonna use my powers and call the cops on him.

And so they do. No matter if you're just walking down the street. If he doesn't like the way you look, or maybe your clothes, or if he doesn't approve of the way you're holding your girlfriend/boyfriend, they call the cops and accuse you of being a tiger. Even if that doesn't happen to you, the spies are watching you. They watch you as you go past them on the street, or as you get on a bus, or do any of the things you normally do. Accuse them of being a busybody, and they accuse you of being a terrorist. And guess what, being a terrorist is illegal, but being a busybody is sanctioned, and even approved, by the government.

But its for your own protection, you whine. Those guys are not getting paid for their time to look after you.

But who says I need or want looking after? Thousands of us in the streets every day, and maybe a few get blown up in a bomb. More people die in car accidents.

We don't have CPCs watching to see if we're crossing the road safely. All they want to do is spy on us.

But the question is this. When and where will it stop? The cops and the government want to know what you're up to. They want to know if you're speaking against them. And in the CPCs they have willing spies and collaborators. Even when or if the war is over, the government will maintain the CPCs, so that they can keep an eye on us.

So what can we do about them? The same thing they do to us. The same things our parents used to do to gossips and busybodies in our villages. Know who they are. Avoid contact with them. Shun them. But this is our generation. We can now fight back. If they like looking at us so much, lets look back at them. Sit and stare at them as they walk past. Take pictures and be seen taking pictures. Let them know that the glass works both ways. As much as they watch us, we will watch them. And there are many more of us than there are of them. And while you're at it, start writing and screaming for the Civil Protection Committees to be disbanded. Write to the papers. Make a stink.

Remember. These busybodies and spies will be there for as long as they are providing a service for the government. The cops will use them for as long as they want to spy on us. The only way we can get rid of them, is by taking the action needed to stop them.

Does the TRC have the right to ask us to carry PhoneIDs?

2008-08-09T14:42:00.002+05:30

Muse

In the few weeks that I have been incapacitated, there have been many things that have happened in the country.

If I was a superstitious man, I would say that my accident was a symbol and symptom of the unlucky period Sri Lanka has entered into.

Our eroding rights, burgeoning government usurpation of powers that were not given to it. Basically, the Sri Lankan populace getting fucked.

We're told to carry ID, to produce ID, when there is no law that specifies exactly what ID we're supposed to have. Apparently, there is, thankfully, no law that even mandates that we should all register and actually own a National Identification Card.

And yet the government, and the police, keep pushing us to have one. to carry one.

And every other possible agency seems to be getting in on the act.

This time, lets look at the Telecommunications Regulatory Commission, or TRC, whose website is here at http://www.trc.gov.lk.

Yes, the website sucks donkey balls. And whatever company that made millions of rupees in the contract, should be boycotted by anyone who wants a website. But it does give some rather telling information. And that is what we're after, information.

The old site has a mission statement. Apparently their mission is as follows:

To create the optimum conditions for the telecommunications industry in Sri Lanka by serving the public interest in terms of quality, choice and value for money; the service providers with equitable access to spectrum and other common resources; and the nation in its drive for socio-economic advancement through a skilled and ethical workforce.

Typical drivel of course, but it does seem to say something. That the whole point of the TRC is to regulate the telecommunications industry. Not us. Not the users.

Then you get the section in the menu called Legislation and reading that we find a link to The Telecommunications Act. The one that created the TRC.

This is interesting too. The TA enumerates the activities, rights, and duties of the TRC. And all of them seem to be dealing with corporations, not humans.

Section 4 of the act sets the general object to be achieved by the commission. And as far as my reading goes, there is absolutely no mention of network users being regulated by the commission.

In fact, the only mention that it gets about having power over users is that which is written in section 5(f). Which says that for the purpose of achieving the objects in section 4 (which makes no mention of any users) it has the power, among others that deal with the industry, to take such regulatory measures as may be prescribed to comply with any general or special directions that may be given to it from time to time by the Government of Sri Lanka in the interest of national security, public order and the defence of the country.

So there it is.

Other than that, the TRC has no right to require users to have a PhoneID. Or even to carry one with them.

So if the cops stop you for not carrying a PhoneID in some form, you can always state that the TRC has no right to ask you to carry one. No more than the Road Development Authority has the right to ask all users of the roads to get and carry a RoadID card. (And before anyone starts commenting, a driver's licence is not and example of RoadID. It is a certificate issued by the RMV to state that you have been tested and found capable of operating a certain class of vehicle.)

Of course, this is not a legal opinion. Maybe there are others who can read sections 4 and 5 of the act and make a more learned statement. Or maybe this will help someone with a case.

But the point is here. The TRC can ask companies to check and disable accounts without ID. But, except for that one statement which is also rather ambiguous, cannot ask you to get a PhoneID. And especially not to carry one.

Good luck with the cops.

Who will watch the watchmen?

2008-08-09T12:49:00.003+05:30

Rant

Or as the original goes - Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

The cops demand ID wherever we go. So does the army. I can't walk in the street in Colombo without getting copped and checked.

Now the TRC wants us to carry ID that can then be inspected by the cops to make sure our cellphones are ours. All in the name of security.

But anyone who actually looks at all this can tell, this is not security. This is security theater. In Sinhala I use the term ආරක්‍ෂක නාඩගම which has the added advantage of being more accurate in its nuances of ridiculousness and futility.

But that hasn't stopped the terrorists. That hasn't stopped the killings and robberies. That hasn't stopped the white van abductions. It hasn't even stopped the attacks on journalists by so-called public officials like Mad Merv.

But all it does is take away the freedoms and privacies of the common man.

So, where do we go from here. After all, we're losing our privacies and rights to the politicians and their whims. These are the privacies that we have come to value and consider natural. We are being brought into 1984 and there doesn't seem to be much we can do to stop it.

Or is there?

A journalist got beaten up by Mad Merv (for whom the sobriquet Merv the Fucking Insane would be a far more fitting term). The cops stated that the journalists should not have been there since the politicians asked them not to come. But here's the point. It was a public rally, in a public location, with a public figure, who is also a public servant. We, as the public, have a right to enter any public location. To go to any public rally. And to observe any public figure in his role as a public figure. And most of all, to watch over our public servants. In that case they have no reasonable expectation of privacy.

But what does this have to do with 1984 you say. How does this affect our rights? How does this make us any stronger?

Because not only does the police have the right to ask us for ID. We have the right to ask them for theirs. We should no longer trust them. If we ever did. If a cop stops us on the road and asks for ID, ask for his first. Take it. Look at it. If he asks for you to identify your cellphone ID (and I'll be writing an entire post on that monstrosity, ask to see his. They watch us, then we watch them. After all. They could be terrorists in disguise, walking around in fake uniforms. The same lack of trust they apply to us, we can and should apply to them.

The other, and important, way is to take a picture of the cops in action. If they have a problem with that, tell them that they are in a public place. that they are public servants and therefore, you can take any picture you want. Use your cellphone camera. We all seem to carry one nowadays. You are not doing anything illegal. In fact, you could be doing them a service. After all, they could be fake cops. Or they could be breaking the law like this guy here. Or you could just say that just as they are exercising their right to check you for ID, you are exercising your right as a citizen to take a picture of a public official, in a public place.

This is not going to be easy. Those who are in power rarely want us to apply the power to them. We are supposed to be like sheep. We're supposed to show our bags, show our ID, and show our cellphones at the request of any official figure. But we are not told that we can ask them for ID. Those of us who do use these systems, and I will be one of them, will be harassed and threatened. But they can't take you to court. And if they did, you would win.

So who watches the watchers? Who guards the guards? Who polices the police? The answer is simple.

We do.

It's my story, and I'll say what I want to

2008-08-02T12:46:00.002+05:30

Muse

It's now a month since I got hit. The physical scars are disappearing. The scabs are falling off. My knees are still painful. and my left one is still impossible to bend or straighten fully. My shoulders are a nit of a mess. My right one cannot be straightened and I can't seem to lift anything heavy with either of them. My right being the worst side. My mental and psychological issues are more worrying. Especially since they don't seem to be getting better.

But I gotta write.

When I started this blog, I had visions of making a difference. My heroes were, and still are, Hunter S. Thompson, and the fictional character based on him - Spider Jerusalem. I will never be in their league. But Who they are, what they have done, and what they have influenced in the world, they inspire me. Spider's filthy assistants, technology, and the collection of guns both he and Hunter had would hardly be denied as draws either.

Right now, and ever since the accident, the wallpaper on my machine has been one of Spider. It's a scene from the comic book, right after he realises that his mind is going.

I may not be as influential. I may not have the women, the fame, and the drugs. But I have the same problem they have. I gotta write.

And today, as has been for quite a while, my topic is me, and what happened.

A month ago today, I, La and Chande-girl decided to catch a movie. After that, we were off to the Beach Waadiya to have dinner at the invitation of my friend ChandUK. Yes, I'm not naming them. I will be giving a name to someone, but if you're bored with the story, got watch Redtube or something. They have a porn video of a group dressed as smurfs having sex.

Back to the story.. We started at 1330, watching Prince Caspian at Liberty. As is normal for me, I picked up some beers. The short stubby ones since they were out of cans. The three of us shared the beers, and I drank more than the others. At the end of the show we decided to go watch The Hulk at Majestic. Bought another four large bottles on the way. Which we all shared, and which i must have had about 1 1/2 bottles of. I can't remember. Not because I was drunk, but because I cannot remember what happened around the accident. Head and brain trauma works that way, and I probably never will recover those memories.

From here on, until I wake up in hospital it is pure conjecture and hearsay. Completely inadmissible in a court of law. Its based on statements by my friends and by the guy who hit me.

First off, I was not drunk. It takes me more than 2-3 beers over a course of 5-6 hours to get me drunk. And even my friends agree that I wasn't. We were, apparently, just high on life. We had been to see a good movie, and spent most of it discussing what happened and the CGI. The shame of it is I can only remember half the movie. Right up to the point where The Hulk is jumping off the helicopter. Or was that part of the trailer? I will never know.

So after all that, we went to the Savoy to go for dinner at the Wadiya.

According to the guy who hit me, he went past me and then I jumped off the kerb and ran into the side of his vehicle fast enough for me to get thrown about 10 feet or more forward. My friends are honest, they say they didn't see what happened because they jumped just ahead of me. Then, the guy who hit me says, he stopped immediately, and then parked at the nearby checkpoint and walked back to check on me, and was careful enough to carry me himself and put me in a threewheeler. My friends say that I was put in the threewheeler by a threewheeler guy himself, and they were too concerned about me to actually look around to see who it was, and where the vehicle was.

Apparently I was not completely unconscious. Just conscious enough to repeatedly tell people to yank the cable out which, I guess, makes sense if you're a computer geek. And I was a bad patient. They had problems getting me to x-ray, and since I smelled of the beer I had drunk and possibly puked up, I was classified as an alcoholic.

The next thing I remember after the movie, was waking up in a lot of pain, to find Bud, Chanux, Seejay, Kanch, Dassa, Kunch and the Mad Monk standing around me. Nice of them to come. If I remember, Chanux and Seejay went and got me some Fanta too. I remember them asking me if I remembered them, and I had no problems identifying them, and swearing at them for good measure. That was one of the few lucid moments I had. I remember a cop speaking to me, and I remember signing a statement. But I couldn't read it, or understand. I may have confessed to being Prabhakaran here in Colombo to blow up Parliament for all I know.

The guy who hit me, who apparently is a doctor, had parked his vehicle (apparently a Pajero) at the checkpoint. then gone home and spent about three or four hours before he went to the police station. I don't know what he was doing for so long. He tells me he went for a piss, but as far as I know, as a guy he could have pissed anywhere in the road. Maybe he had to go say prayers of thanks to his god that I was alive, and alright.

The next day, he had come to see me in hospital, but I don't remember anyone introducing themselves. That morning I had been unconscious, but Shani, Sanj, and the Mad Monk had been there. And if you know who I'm talking about, they are the nicest and most decent looking people that you can find. And no one had introduced themselves to them either.

That evening I was moved to ward (I think) 27 where I was given a plastic chair and told, We don't have any beds, but feel free to get comfortable and sleep in that chair all you want. It was at that time I called my parents up and asked to be taken home. I signed myself out of hospital, and moved out.

For the next two weeks I was at home resting up. Had problems moving my arms and legs, had problems staying awake, or even conscious. At the end of two weeks I did the training session at Hali Ela. No one, especially the guys at the Ministry, wanted me to go. But I insisted. I got the CAT scans, x-rays and blood tests done. I also got new glasses to make up for the ones I was missing. My parents paid for all of it, and I have no idea what they cost. I do remember that the glasses cost about LKR10,000.

I was at Hali Ela when I got the message from the Center. Someone had been calling for me, could I please call them back. Figuring it was a client I called up, to find that it was the guy who had hit me. He said he wanted to meet me to come to a settlement.

Before we go any further, I want to say a few things. I am not angry with the guy for hitting me. I can't even remember the accident, why should I be angry for that? I was not and am not expecting compensation. My parents didn't expect anything back when they took me to Apollo to be treated, its what parents do for their kids. I will mention his name, so if you don't want to hear it, then don't read any further. I am mad at him for his callousness, the way he acted, and the way he treated me after the fact.

I planned on meeting him the day after I came back to Colombo, and he called me on the day we were supposed to meet. That was when I realised that things were going to be hairy. His first words to me were, Hello Wijenayake. What time shall we meet today. No Mr. Wijenayake, no Suchetha, nothing. Calling someone by his last name is the equivalent of a challenge. I wasn't in any shape to go, but agreed. My parents also wanted to come with me and talk on my behalf.

That evening, at the copshed in Wellawatte, we were waiting for the guy. He took his own time showing up, and walked in. The first thing that pissed me off about his was that he made no apologies for hitting me. And he treated me and spoke to me like i was some kind of street bum he hit. He was the one who told the story that it was he who put me in the trike, and that I had stepped off the kerb and into the side of his vehicle as he drove by me. And that he had stopped and waited for me, and then been forced to go home because he had to go to the toilet to pee.

I tried to talk to him, tell him who and what I was, and that I was not the cheap-ass guy he thought, but then, and even now, I have a problem expressing myself. I finally left it to my parents to remind him that he hadn't even apologised. At which point he apologised, not to me, but to my parents. He then asked how much we wanted as a settlement so as not to take the case to court. My father, who is better at this than I am, said that they had spent LKR50,000 on me since the accident, for medicines, doctors, tests, and treatment. The other guy said he didn't introduce himself to me or my friends because he didn't want to influence them, but apparently had a complete report of my stay at Kalubowila, something even we didn't have. He then mentioned that the price was too much. My father said that they were not there to haggle, and would see them in court. He also made a statement to the police that there was no settlement.

That, as they say, was that. I have more than a few issues that piss me off about it.

First off, according to the cops, I'm fine. In perfect health. If I wasn't, I would have stayed in hospital. Never mind that the place had no beds. A sick man would have stayed there, or got transferred to another government hospital. That I moved out, and only got myself scanned and checked in a private hospital means that I am physically fine. And if I wanted to say that I wasn't, I should get checked back into a hospital. Apparently the legal system is based on the idea that if you're sick you're in a government hospital, and if you're not in one, you're not only well, but quite hale and hearty. Which explains why all the politicians who are suffering from some disease to escape being dragged into courts are in the hospital, wearing oxygen masks and holding press conferences.

And the next thing that pisses me off is the guy who hit me. The fact that he's a doctor. The fact that he took three hours after the accident to get to the police and make a statement. The fact that he didn't introduce himself to anyone at the hospital. The fact that he was completely unapologetic and acting like a superior asshole. In fact, those last two especially, piss me off. I was never angry with the guy who hit me, accidents will happen. I was angry because everyone thought he had driven away. But the biggest reason I am pissed off is because he came off as unapologetic, and figured that since I came to speak to him, and maybe since I was wearing my customary black t-shirt and jeans when he hit me, that I was well beneath his high status as a doctor. And more than pissing me off, it disappoints me in the state of doctors. I've got aunts and uncles who are doctors. Cousins and friends. One of whom. who was a LUGger, apparently checked up on me, at least by remote. But when a doctor, especially one who was the uninjured/active party in the accident, doesn't bother to even say hello to his victim, or to apologise when they meet, that is callousness of a high level. It makes you wonder what kind of a doctor he is in the first place, and is the reason why I came to the decision to mention his name. The guy's name was Dr Akbar. He works as a gynaecologist, and as far as he told me, at the Colombo North hospital. On the E-channelling site there is one Akbar listed, and he is a gynaecologist.

I am not, I repeat, not saying the guy on the site is him. For all I know, the guy may have given me a fake name, job, and address.. I don't know. All I know is, if I ever have to go see this doctor, I would be asking myself what kind of guy do I want my doctor to be.

Just to keep a log for myself, this post took three hours to write. While it is long, it was simply a report. I have not added anything to it except at the end, where I write my feelings about the accident. It still took me that long. I'm still not myself. But, like Spider Jerusalem, I'll try to make it back. Or maybe I'll end up like Hunter S. Thompson.

Doing what I have to do

2008-07-30T22:47:00.002+05:30

Muse

If you are tired of reading how my life is and the problems and issues I'm facing, stop now. Go watch Playboy or something.

It has been almost a month since the accident, and it has been eventful. I've been CAT scanned, x-rayed, and blood tested. All of which showed no physical problems. In fact, as my doctor said, I've got bad news. You've had an accident and a knock on the head. But it still hasn't cured your madness. Everyone wants to be a comedian.

I've also met the guy who hit me. He's a doctor, and to be quite honest, he was acting like a jerk. I keep thinking if I should blog that story with names and everything.

I've got another 5-day workshop in Wariyapola, starting on the 4th and going until the 9th. More teachers looking for an education. Its going to be time to teach, and by Eris it will be done.

That last training session wiped me out. It wasn't the walking, or the location. It was, quite simply, the mental strain.

If you don't want to hear it, just go away now. I am sure my problems don't concern you. And this is as much an aide memoire as it is a blog post.

Since the accident I have been suffering from a few symptoms. A loss of appetite, sleepyness, and a feeling of disconnectedness from reality. My memory is fine, but the interface between reality and brain seems to be a few circuits short of a motherboard. I also have this odd feeling that I am not meant to be here for long. Something akin to an impending end.

I am not sure what this all means. Most people agree that I have changed. My parents, who spend the most amount of time with me, can see the changes in my personality. That I talk too much of inanities, unlike I used to. Many of my friends have noticed it too.

But I don't tell many people all this. Some accept it and are willing to listen. And for them I am grateful. Others basically say get over it! I wish I could, but I can't. This, unfortunately, makes it difficult to be my friend. You don't want to hear dark, gloomy, suicidal thoughts from your friends. I may have even chased off a good friend, who recently battled her way through a real life-threatening disease, unlike me.

So I write. I write as a catharsis and a log. As much sending out messages in bottles hoping that someone reads them, as they are just scratchings on a cave wall. Something to say, I was here and this was me. Its also there to remind myself of who I am.

I don't want or need sympathy. I write, because if I didn't write here, I would be scrawling on pieces of paper and hiding them. And my handwriting, simply, sucks.

I'm off to train people. I have this strange notion in my head that this must be done, and this chapter closed. A feeling like there will be no more chapters to write. So I do this.

And to be honest, I am hoping for an ending.

Are cops and tamashas more important than students?

2008-07-29T14:26:00.002+05:30

Rant

I'm back, and I am ranting. I may not be as good as I used to be, but, by Eris, I am pissed off.

I spent five days teaching teachers at Hali-Ela.

It wasn't easy, but there is a part of me that insists I do such things. I have to test myself and push myself. Otherwise, I may as well just lie in bed all the time, and that is as interesting as watching the paint dry.

In Hali-Ela, I met members of the various schools. Teachers who run labs that provide ICT training for our students. The same students who lack jobs. The ones who have no future. The ones who might have a future in the ICT world. And these teachers were good. They were enthusiastic, and wanted to learn Linux and FOSS. More than that, they wanted to pass the knowledge forqward. Pretty awesome isn't it, to be in the company of people like that. Pretty fucking rare too in Sri Lanka.

So I taught them. For better or worse, I did it. And I also learned from them.

When we first started the project (we being me, bud, and the mad monk) we thought these teachers would all come from high tech labs like we went to. And some of those labs were high tech. But, that first round, we were shown the best of locations. Its like you getting all dressed up to meet a girl for the first time (or a guy for that matter). The average, and the reality, is far different. We found teachers in the Eastern province who didn't have labs, or didn't have buildings, or didn't have connectivity. I met one from, I think, Mahiyangana who was the proud owner of a lab with two computers. And one of them is a donation. I've got more machines than that in my bedroom.

But that's the point isn't it? This guy teaches with two machines. And he gets three students to answer the ICT exam each year. And then the Government spends 2.8 billion rupees on the SAARC festival happening here. And of that amount 2.3 billion is going to buy cars and bikes for the cops to protect the folks who are coming over to Sri Lanka for what has rapidly become a massive wank-fest. Like the Oscars, SAARC is not about getting anything done, but about patting yourself in the back and jacking each other off.

Do the cops need that many vehicles? Are we in need of more 750CC motorcycles to protect us? Bikes that cost well over LKR750,000 each? Bikes that will be used as outriders for the politicians who have ruined this country?

And worse, do we do that at the expense of the students who, with a thousandth of that money, could actually be provided with a future for themselves, and for Sri Lanka as a whole?

My sanity and other animals

2008-07-19T18:38:00.002+05:30

Muse

This system is turning from a blog to a LiveJournal, and for that I apologise.

To be honest I am trying to keep track of what is happening to me, in the best and only way that I can. There are others, but this at least gives me feedback. And feedback, I need.

Is it just me, or is my writing style improving? I can't tell at the moment. I think it is, but I am too subjective a person to tell. I ask because this, my writing and communicating style, is my biggest judge of my ability to communicate.

On Friday the 19th, I went to see my doc. I told him my concerns and also showed him the last few posts on my blog. After seeing the deterioration since Sometimes, you don't get the girl he showed me to a specialist at Apollo Hospital.

To be honest, I like our new geeky docs. I like the fact that I can show them a blog post and speak of my concerns. its also a hell of a lot more liberating than the old stick your tongue out and take deep breaths routine.

The thing is, I was given a checkup, where he listened to me, and then was asked to speak to my parents, and given a job list of tests to be done.

These tests were not cheap, but they were meant to see what he hell is wrong with me.

And, I'll be honest, I don't have a doubt that there are things wrong with me.

I can't speak, or write like I used to. I am a slow typist compared to what I used to be. While i feel my brain is alert as ever, my systems seems slower and a lot duller than they used to be. My new glasses make my sight a lot better, but I still seem to suffer from a sense of disconnection that has nothing to do with the drugs that were being prescribed for my condition. In any case, I haven't taken any drugs since the 14th or 15th of the month.

Obviously this is not the best way for things. And it worries me that my body seems to be accepting this, and I will eventually accept the status quo as the way things are and should be.

Like I said, this is turning into a fucking LiveJournal page.

My doc prescribed chest X-rays, CAT scans, enough blood tests to make me feel dehydrated. All of which I did this morning. I am not a fan of testing, and even less a fan of needles despite my multiple tatts, but I guess they had to be done.

Currently, I am on vitamin tabs only. Just multivitamins, vitamin C and zinc tabs.

I'm off to a training session in Badulla on Tuesday, and I am seeing the doc with my test reports on Monday evening. The teaching is something I want to do, to see how good or bad my shape is. For the next few weeks/months everything I do will be considered a test.

So there it is, a combination LJ and blog post, in an attempt to keep my mind in some order. I am pretty sure I'm gonna get better. But there are days.

I'm also running out of cool titles for these articles.

I still haven't found, what I'm looking for

2008-07-17T19:38:00.002+05:30

Muse

I'm not even sure what it is I am looking for. But I think I know what it isn't.

Or at least, I tell my self I do. Which is as good isn't it?

My typing is slow these days. Since I got in the accident, my head hasn't been the same.

Yes, unless you missed the updates to my blog, I got into an accident. If you want to know more, don't ask me. All I can remember is watching The Hulk with La, and Chandi-girl. Then apparently we went for dinner. Then we crossed the road in front of Savoy, then I got hit. There are other stories, but I can't even remember getting hit.

I was taken to Kalubowila Hospital where, apparently, I was a whiny, moany patient. I guess so.

My life is, for want of another word, strange, since then. I am sure I managed to hit my head, you don't get 6 hours of amnesia for nothing, but it is the rest of it that has me worried.

I can't seem to type properly. Its not just my physical problem of dealing with a wonky shoulder or two, but my mental ability to make sentences like I used to. That skill doesn't seem to be there. And even at the best of times, I feel like my mind is just that little bit out of touch with reality as I know it. But, it just doesn't seem right to me.

My doctor states that it is a wonder that I am up and around already. My mother, bless her heart, says its a wonder and a miracle that I am still alive. I am not so sure.

Let's face it. I wish I was dead. I really do. If this is the way my mind is going to be, do I really want to be part of it? There is a part of me that wants to be tested. To have a CAT scan, and any other scan to find out if there is damage to my brain. To see if i can fix it. But I am scared. What if it isn't fixable?

Does anyone out there know? or at least have a clue? I certainly don't.

As you can see, this article itself is disjointed. I hope I get better soon. I really do.

I need myself back!

I aten't dead yet

2008-07-09T16:28:00.002+05:30

Rant

No! I'm not

Not even close to it.

A big Thank you to all my friends who got me to hospital. Their fast action was appreciated.

On the other hand I would like to tell people a small message - DO NOT GO TO KALUBOWILA!!!!

Yes they've had multiple bomb casualties there. Yes, they've experienced a lot. But none of that seems to have helped them any. When I went, they were as lethargic as before. The transferred me from the accident ward to war (I think) 29 where they put me to sleep on a chair, because there were no beds left.

At that point I called my parents and went off home. I don't want to play that game.

If you have a a patient there.. please move them out to a better hospital if you can

Kalubowila had a bad reputation, which we thought it had lived beyond, but it looks like it is as shitty as ever.

I came out of Kalubowila. And I'm glad I survived

I faw' down n' go boom

2008-07-08T07:11:00.000+05:30

Yeah. I did. Really

Last Saaturday, La, Chabdrika and I watched Prince Caspian, and then went off to MC to watch The Incredible Hulk. Maybe I shouldn't have had multiple beers on an empty stomach, but I felt sober enough.

The next thing I remember was waking up in Kalubowila hospital with my body in bandages. That was Saturday afternoon, when I'd got hit on my way to one of the fish joints beside Savoy theater for dinner.

Sunday morning Kanchana, Bud, Lahiru, Kuncha, Dassa, Seejay and Chanux, and The Mad Monk, all showed up to see me. Which was nice. And then my parents came too, which was better. It was when they left me for the day that things became a lot worse. It was then that they moved me to ward 27, where all the post-op cases were. And I was stuck sitting on a plastic chair for the day.

It was then that I called my parents and asked them to take me home. Lets face it, hospital's no fun if you can't sleep at least nominally in a bed

It didn't help that a cop was coming to take a statement from me about the guy who hit me. I can't remember much, other than I shared a beer or two with my friends while watching Hulk. Is is just me or is it unfair to charge someone knowing that you weren't 100% at fault? I dunno.

I can't write more now. Body hurts and all. But please. feel free to leave a message

Sometimes, you don't get the girl

2008-07-02T17:04:00.002+05:30

Muse

I've known her for years. I can still remember the dress she wore when we first met. I remember the where, the when, the why, the how. I remember how she looked, how she moved, and how my heart felt like it had been kicked in the balls.

It was love at first sight, both for me and for her. We held each other close, we pushed each other away. It was a roller coaster of fear, and excitement, and joy, and gut-wrenching stomach-churning anxiety. What it was, was fucking awesome.

But life, as they say, goes on. We came together, we fell apart. Life, time, distance, community, all conspired to keep us apart. She was bound by the ties of her life, and I, in my own way, by mine. We went our separate ways, and I still remembered her. She was the Dream. The standard others were measured by. There were enough women who hated her, not because they knew her, but because of what she was in my head.

We met again many years after. Came together as adults, not the inexperienced duo we were. And it seemed good. But it didn't last. We were from two sides of the Great Divide. It ended in promises of friendship, but nothing more.

Many years have gone by. Lives have been lived.

And yet, she haunts me still.

I found her again recently. The Internet makes the world a much smaller place than it used to be so many years ago. She's still out there. We make.. tentative contact. Personally I would like to talk to her all the time, but it seems she doesn't want to. I am sure she has her reasons, and I don't blame her for them.

From what I see, she's found someone, and things are serious. It's not like I can blame her for it can I? We both have lives to live. And I have had my own share of relationships.

But the thing is, she still makes my heart go thump. She still makes me want to hold her in my arms like I used to way back when. She makes me wish that she was still with me, that life hadn't got in our way.

I sometimes wonder if she knows that I still care for her. That I still think of her, dream of her. That I may never be completely over her. That I still have her picture in my wallet. I'm sure if she reads this, she will. And I wonder how she will feel knowing all this.

Sometimes you don't get the girl. Sometimes she is just a dream. The one that got away. Maybe she's all the more perfect for that. The dream, after all, has none of the imperfections of the reality. Reality is where life is lived, where people hurt and bleed, scream and shout. Where nothing is ever perfect. Where the hero doesn't get the girl. Where there is no resolution in the final act. And where the romantic sunset by the beach goes unseen.

But sometimes, you dream.

Blogging in Ampara

2008-06-25T06:58:00.003+05:30

Rave

So here I am in Ampara, teaching Linux to some more of the Sri Lankan teachers. Eris help them all.

Kunchana came down for Bud's wedding, and then went back to Ampara with me and the Mad Monk.

It was a long drive. Kunch and I almost didn't get to have any food at the wedding because we were running late. But a last minute intervention by Kanchana, Bud's new ball and chain, made sure that we got to have at least a bite or three.

It was almost 0100 when we landed in Ampara, and I crashed at Kuncha's place. Poor sod decided to be nice to me and slept on the couch the whole time i was there. I guess his parents are a good influence on the guy.

The training event itself was held at the Kavanthissa Vidyalaya in Ampara town, in the CRC there. The guys for the training came from all over the Eastern Province, travelling from Trincomalee, Batticaloa, and other places.

The team itself was excellent. Very interested in the subject, and really into Linux.

I'd write more, but 4 days of training has pretty much wiped me out. There is so much to teach them, but both they and I are pretty much shattered. I'll be writing more later, so I'll let the Eastern Province Hardware Team speak for me. All quotes were typed in directly by them, inclusive of typos.

This workshop is very good for our Harware team.Your teaching methodology was very interesting and enjoying. We have got more about linux so we thank you and Kunchana and specially for our Neal Sir. Thank You.

You'r not only a geek but also a coke addict, but with a good atitude. We learnt a lot from yopu T' You

we have learnt about Linux more,I think it is very usefull us, thanku you very much

sir now a days i never saw dedicater teacher. but five dayes we saw your dedication. teaching field said teacher as a dedicater that term suaitable to u you are genious of linux society this message from pl hope our mail

Happy evangelist missionary day

2008-06-18T06:52:00.002+05:30

Muse

Many, many years ago there was a country. That country was not more, or less, peaceful than any other country like it. It had its good days, and bad. The rain came, the sun shone.

It had people too. No one knows exactly where the people came from, but they had been there for thousands of years. Of course, it wasn't the same people. There had been various invaders from time to time. People came in with weapons, took over the people there. And the people adapted. They absorbed the newcomers into their ranks. And in a few years, in less than a generation, the newcomers became locals. And as locals looked on the country as their country.

This country had a vibrant culture. Arts, music, skills. A fusion of what was there, and what was brought in. They had their songs, their music, their dances. And they had their gods.

Not too far away from this country, was another country. And this country had a king. He was a passionate man. And since he was a passionate man, and a king, he turned his passions to what kings do best - waging war. And wage war he did. For many years he increased his holdings until he ruled a very large area indeed. So much so that he was given the appellation the Cruel. But one day. After a great battle, one that he had started to get more land, he looked around and saw nothing but dead people. So he gave up war, and became the adherent of a new religion that was sweeping through the area. So he left his old religion, and took on a new one. But being a passionate man, and a crafty one, he decided that he was going to continue his conquest. He would do so by sending out missionaries, funded by the state, to promote this new religion that he was so into. After all, there is no adherent quite as fanatical about religion as a new adherent is there? He called this new concept of conquest Conquest by Faith.

This king used his wealth and power to support his new missionaries in their evangelical roles. He funded places for them to stay, Funded their missions, and sent them to every country he could, to spread the word of the new religion that he was into.

And since the first country we were talking about was not too far from this king's country - close enough to be known by him and, luckily for the inhabitants, too far to be conquered by him - he sent some of his missionaries there too. But he picked a special man to lead them. One of his sons. Child of the King's fourth wife of many. He wasn't just passionate about war you see.

When these missionaries came to the country we were talking about, they met the king of that country. Because of the royal connections, the missionaries were given a high status. And managed to convince the king of this country to abandon his faith, and take on this new faith that the missionaries brought.

The people, were encouraged to join the new religion, which was supported by its newest and most powerful convert. The old ways, the ways that had lasted thousands of years were swept away. The old religions pushed aside to make way for the new ones. And more and more missionaries came to the country. to take this new religion to more people. Converts within the country began to evangelise to their friends, their neighbours.

The old priests watched in vain as people turned away from them, turning to this new religion, which was not only being promoted by their society, but had the approval of their king.

And the missionaries were everywhere. The king built places for them to stay. He built places of worship, marginalising the temples and lands of the old religion. He forced young men to join the priesthood of the new religion, taking them away from their families. And soon, he too started to send out his own missionaries. Sponsored by the government.

The country is different now from what it was. The missionaries have completely taken over. Nothing remains of the old religions. Nothing but a few sad ruins.

So happy evangelical missionary day. The day we celebrate the arrival of the first state-sponsored evangelical missionaries to this country. The event that led to the destruction of a culture and religions that were ancient event when the upstart young religion was created. The day when Mahinda came to Sri Lanka.

Did the Jeppo get something right?

2008-06-14T19:37:00.002+05:30

Muse

Now I am not a JVP fan. In fact, it would be fair to say that I am far from being a fan. That I am a Jeppo-hater. That I am so far beyond being a hater, that if hating them was a star, it would take many tens, nay hundreds of millions of years for the light from the-star-known-as-I-hate-the-fucking-Jeppo to get to me. And when it finally does, many millennia after the star goes nova, the light will be so faint that I would need an array of Hubble-type space telescopes to see the light.

But once in a while, even the millions of monkeys that make up the Jeppo manage to open their mouths and say something that is not a steaming pile of feces.

Recently they called for a new investigation of Jeyaraj Fernandopulle's assassination.

More feces right? After all, everyone knows that Jeyaraj was killed by the evil, terrible, man-eating, child-killing, woman-raping, blood-thirsty, friendly, neighbourhood revolutionary freedom-fighters known as the LTTE right? The same ones I thanked in a blog post a few months back right?

What if we were wrong?

Let's consider what the Jeppo are saying. Most of their reasons for wanting a better investigation are based on two items. One, the woman who was picked up by the cops for providing support for the entire mission, died in the hands of the police.

Of course this is almost .. normal for our cops. It's not their fault of course. I'm sure people just .. die during questioning all the time. Our fine, upstanding, diligent police force have absolutely nothing to do with those deaths. And LTTE-ers usually do kill themselves when they are captured. Many of them, like the woman in question, with the ever present cyanide suicide capsule. But most of them tend to do it early, immediately after capture, probably to beat the rush. They don't wait two weeks in custody and then decide to check out.

Two, two of the MSD types who were with Jeyaraj that day, were run over by a lorry a few days later. Both died.

As Ian Fleming wrote in Goldfinger: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action. And if we want to find out who probably dunnit, we have to ask why?

Let's face it Jeyaraj was a crook. He was so bent that he could walk through a corkscrew sideways. The man skimmed off so much money from the various projects that he did, that it stopped being funny about a few billion rupees ago. But I don't think anyone in the government, especially The Beast, understood just how much was being stolen until the overpass deal went through. Does 10% sound like a reasonable kickback to you? Do you think it was more? Or less? 10% of 2.1 billion is 210 million. That's 210,000,000. That's twenty-one followed by seven fucking zeroes. Not too shabby eh?

And that was just the one deal.

So what do you think will happen when The Beast finds out that there's so much money just dribbling into dear old Jeyaraj's satin-lined pockets? It's not like he can fire the fucker. Jay-boy knows where too many skeletons are buried. And any attempt on him would mean those skellies come dancing out like it was a remake of the Thriller video.

So he goes in Mahamulana style. Jay-boy gets bumped off, and T. B. Ekanayake - effective and useful a politician as D. B. (Doing Bloody Well) Wijethunge - gets landed with the post. And then gets told that he can handle all the highway projects. Well, at least all of them upto a value of 40 million rupees. So if you want a small lane done, or maybe a culvert, TB's your man. For anything else, he's as effectual as jacking off a dead dog in the hopes that it will ejaculate Glenlivet Whiskey.

And the other projects? The other 250 two-point-one-billion rupee flyovers? Who's gonna handle them? Who else but Basil. So there's that golden goose safely in the pockets of Rajapaksa Brothers, Very Private, Extremely Unlimited.

Good story eh? A fine tale of murder and villainy to be shared with your mates over a beer, or an arrack, maybe a whiskey, or in this economy, kasippu. A tale that is as good as any that Chris Carter wrote for The X-Files. Paranoia and conspiracy theories galore.

But then again. What if I'm right?

How about paying for what you get?

2008-06-11T17:37:00.002+05:30

Rant

When you're an independent observer like me, you get told things. Things that upset people. Things that they can't tell anyone else. It does people good to know that someone else knows of their problems, and maybe will help do something about it.

I wish I could. I so wish I could.

When I was out on my teach the teachers project, I heard something very disturbing. Not exactly surprising, knowing the governments we've had, but disturbing nonetheless.

Our teachers aren't getting paid!

Yes, I know they're on strike. And yes, I know the government closed schools to minimise the effect of the strike. But this isn't about that.

What I heard, was something that, I think, affects us all. Apparently, the Government owes the teachers money. Not small amounts either. Some in the tens of thousands of rupees. This is money in bonuses, extra duuty pay, and other extra money that is due to the teachers. Whether you agree with the salary levels or not, the unarguable fact is that the money is owed to them.

So what happens when the Government owes the money to these teachers? They keep pushing back the payment dates. Further, and further back. And then, one day, they put out a Gazette notice that since (for example) 5 years have passed without payment, that money will no longer be paid.

I was speaking to a teacher who was owed LKR25,000 since 1990, and then was told that since his debt was so old, he wouldn't be getting paid. So this is not just a PA government issue. It has been a policy of successive governments to not pay their debts. This is the way things have operated. This teacher would be happy to get just what was owed to him. But I would be wanting the money, and interest. After all, 25,000 1990 rupees is worth a lot more now.

Most of you who are reading this work. How would you feel if your employer kept pushing back the payment of some extra money that was owed to you, and then says Well, it's been five years, so I won't be paying it to you after all?

How would you feel?

Imagine how these guys must be feeling. I, for one, believe that our teachers are not being paid enough. I remember what kind of hellion I was in school and I know they weren't paid enough to deal with me. I believe we should demand more education and more services out of our teachers than just the spoon-fed pap we give our kids. But I think that they, more than any other Government servant, should be paid a lot more.

And I think we should pay all the employees what we owe them.

Really. Ministers are willing to make commitments to pay people when they strike and not follow through. I think that should stop. But I also think that what is owed should be paid. And that should be done before The Beast goes off on another tour to China or before the ministers get new cars, or anything.

What can we do? they told me. Our union doesn't do anything to help, they claimed. Well, from my point of view, there is only one solution. It's time to bring out the lawyers. Screaming, shouting, and striking will get you nowhere. But a good lawyer, and a case in the Supreme Courts - especially in front of Sarath Silva - would make a difference for everyone. The ideal would be to get the Government to pay what is owed, with interest, and the costs of bringing them to courts.

Governments have responsibilities to shoulder. Whether it is Blue, Green, Red, or Pink and Purple Polka-dots, if they owe people, they owe people. It is not a privilege for us to get money that is owed us from the Government. It is a right! And it is time we started to exercise our rights.

Conservatives, Liberals, and Libertarians

2008-06-05T22:38:00.001+05:30

Muse

Look around you. Everyone today claims to subscribe to some form of political/social idea. Sometimes they can be defined by what they subscribe to. At other times by what they don't subscribe to.

Don't understand what I mean? Let me explain.

How many times have you heard someone say I'm a [insert socio-political belief system here] and I believe that we should [insert supposedly deriable action here]? Not many, I'm guessing. Why? Because they don't need to. Their beliefs on what should be done are, in fact, completely indicative of their beliefs and leanings. But when they say, I'm a [insert socio-political beliefe system here], but I believe that [insert action here], then you start to really get an idea of what they're all about.

Interesting isn't it? People can be defined better not by what they say they are but what they say they are not, but..

So, why am I writing all this?

Because I want to talk about these groups. These people that we see every day, who have impact on our lives. I want to talk about the Conservatives, the Liberals, and the Libertarians. And what I feel is the primary difference between them. And what is that difference? Simple!

Conservatives believe that no one has the right to be anything but conservative, and they will force governments into making that a law. Liberals believe that everyone has the right to believe in anything they want, as long as they don't harm others - and if they do harm others they'll look for someone (preferably some nice organisation) to stop them from harming others. Libertarians believe that everyone has the right to do or say whatever the hell they want, as long as they don't interfere with everyone else's right to do or say whatever the hell they want, and if you do interfere - well I've got this [gun/knife/broken bottle/sharp pointy stick/fist] that will stop you doing it.

Really. That's all it is.

After all, I know memers of all three communities. And I must confess, I don't really like most conservatives. At least some conservatives I can deal with. The liberal conservatives who are willing to accpet that their opinion may not always be valid. But I really dislike the ones who pretty much say that your opinion is invalid because you're a liberal. In fact, I would go so far to say that I don't like anyone who says that your opinion is invalid because you're a follower of something other than what they follow. On the other hand, I don't really get along with liberals either. This is becaue they are usually not willing to actually do anything about their beliefs. Most of the liberals you meet are the hand-wringing why doesn't somebody do something types who are willing to bitch, moan, and complain, but not to actually do anything. But then, there are a lot of people like that, even in the conservative camp. Those who are willing to talk the talk but not walk the walk. But it's the hand-wringing whiny liberals that give the working, active liberals a bad name.

Then there are the Libertarians. For some reason or the other, Libertarianism tends to attract the more active types of people. Maybe its the fuck you and the horse you rode in on attitude. Maybe its because the whole basis of being libertarian is that you do things for yourself. I don't know what it is, but I am yet to meet an apathetic libertarian.

So why does all this bother me so much? Why am I, who claims loudly and long to be a non-conformist willing to hang this tag on myself? After all, tags are for conformists, right?

But that's, I guess for me at least, the best part of being a libertarian. You are free to conform or not as you want. You can follow the many paths of libertarianism, in fact, there are probably as many paths as there are libertarians. But they all believe in two things. The first is what Lucifer (aka the Lightbringer, and probably the first libertarian) said to Jahweh (the first conservative) - Non Serviam!. I will not serve. The other, is that if you want to get something done, you have got to do it yourself.

So what's my point? I'm not really sure. But I will say this. The biggest problem with conservatives is the fact that they're so successful. Because governments are inherently conservative, at least in the way that they try to control wveryones' lives, cnservatives tend to get more done int eh legal sense. Whether it is the banning of things that conservatives consider bad or carrying out an unnecessary war. Conservatives manage to get it done.

Liberals, and libertarians too for that matter, are willing to sit by and let it all happen.

I think its time we changed that. And I'll start working on it as soon as I finish reading this book.

Blogging and bashing

2008-06-02T19:46:00.005+05:30

Rave

When you're a linux geek, everything is command line. The more you use it, the faster you become. Moving your hand from the keyboard to the mouse is a chore. Using the GUI is only good for two things. Browsing the internet and porn. For some people, that is still one thing.

I've been blogging with VIM for a very long time now. And I have always found it quite.. satisfying. There's something about green letters on a black background that makes my geek gene tingle. It also helps that going command line saves battery life and things. Basically, if you're going to be any good in the IT field, especially in the Linux/server area, you had better know your command line.

But there are just some things that a command line couldn't do. And for me, the worst of them was posting to my blog. It's irritating to write the blog in VIM and then have to open up a text editor to view it so i can paste it on the Blog*Spot control panel. Irritating, aggravating, and frustrating. It also jarred with my sense of aesthetics. Yes I have one. Yes you can stop sniggering now. I'll wait.

So, following the grand tradition of If you want it, and it doesn't exist, why don't you code it yourself? I started to code. And what a code it was. My knoledge of BASH is minimal. And while this probably could be done better with Perl or Python. I know less of those languages than i know of bash. So bash it was going to be. So I spent the last weekend going through the Blogger API and trying to figure out what needed to be done.

And I did it. It works. More or less. You can give it your username and password, and it will set things up for you. After that you can post your X/HTML formatted entries directly to your Blog*Spot account.

Obviously this is heavy, heavy alpha. I'll probably get it to a usable level and set it free into the wild to see who else makes something of it.

Well, I tried to place the code here, but it worked like a chocolate tea-kettle. So I'm giving you a link to the archives of the lug.lk mailing list that has the file

Click here to go to the file

There's gold in them thar hills

2008-06-02T16:41:00.001+05:30

Muse

No, really. There is.

Let me tell you a story.

I was going down to .. somewhere, I can't remember where, when we all stopped at the Ambepussa Rest House. I'm sure you know the one. It's the Rest House. At Ambepussa. On the way to Kandy, Kurunegala, Anuradhapura, and many other such Places of Interest.

Of course you stop for a meal, since it is the first food stop at a respectable distance from Colombo - after all there is no reason to stop anywhere close to Colombo for food, not when you're planning on driving for at least a few more hours. So you stop there, have their over-priced short-eats, or get in on the breakfast buffet, and you take a walk to stretch your legs before you get back in the vehicle. Many thousands of people have done that, and so have I.

So you stretch your legs by walking around the rest house. Take a look at the pictures on the walls, and maybe at some of the posters. Look around and take a sideways glance at the women in the place - you never know, the love of your life of the week may be getting out of a car. And then you look around some more.

I was doing just that, when on that day, many, many years ago, I noticed the big poster proclaiming the history of the Ambepussa Rest House. And what a history it is. Very interesting reading, if you take the time to read it, and to read between the lines.

Yeah, I'm getting to the gold. Be patient.

Apparently the Ambepussa Rest House was built to provide a place to stay for the British explorers who came down to Sri Lanka and Ambepussa to search for gold. Yes, you heard me. Gold.

But apparently the exploration stopped because they couldn't find enough gold there in commercially viable quantities. Seriously. That's what it says.

Commercially. Viable. Quantities.

Now as any one can tell you, the price of gold, and the technological advances in actually extracting the gold has increased in leaps and bounds. In South Africa, where they strip mine for gold with machinery, and they are happy to get a few ounces per ton of earth.

So what I see is this. There is quite probably gold there in the Ambepussa river. It may even be commercially viable to mine for it now.

Of course I'm not responsible if you decide to get a pie pan and a big had and go panning for gold. Or if you decide to buy up the land in the area and start strip mining the place. As far as I know, there are no rules regarding gold mining in Sri Lanka. They could try to get you on the environmental protection laws.

But then tell people there is gold there and all environmental concerns go out the window. It's gold. Gold! Fuck the environment.

People are strange like that.

Linuxing it in Thalduwa

2008-05-31T07:12:00.002+05:30

Rant

When Linux calls, I answer. Or something like that anyway. After all, I now have a Reputation with a capital R as the go-to guy for Linux events. It may have something to do with the fact that I do these events for free. or at least in exchange for Coke (Coca bloody Cola, not the powdery white kind, though I'd prefer Mountain fucking Dew) and a place to crash and a good dinner after (beer optional, but gladly accepted). I'm cheap and I'm easy. Ask any of the girls who'll admit to knowing me.

So when the MoE calls me, the Mad Monk, and Geekaholic to come talk to them about Linux, we obviously jump at the opportunity.

In case you didn't know, the three of us were the ones who pioneered the project to bring Linux into the SEMP labs in the schools. We did five schools, which in turn led to the RedHat funded project that had me running all over the country in 2006 teaching Linux to teachers. Now that was fun.

So off we went to the MoE and meet with representatives from the MoE, SEMP, ICTA, and the PICTECs from all nine provinces. All of whom were interested in promoting Linux. Especially in light of the heavy handed actions of the BSA in raiding shops and generally acting like dicks.

So at their request I agreed to do yet another run. Nine provinces, five days per province, providing Linux training to the more experienced Linux users. My payment? Food, Coke, and a place to stay. Also the opportunity to take some interesting pictures if i can find the time (and the pictures).

With all that out of the way we headed out to Thalduwa on the 26th, ending up at the Thalduwa Buddhist College. The teachers that i was supposed to teach were already there, and some of them were my old friends from various locations in the last training run. The Mad Monk and I were later joined by Seejay and ChanuX who served as my able assistants for the duration, happily cutting a week's worth of classes.

On the training itself, there is really not much to say. We came, we saw, and we kicked some fucking ass. The previous one-day training session was pretty good. But there really is nothing like a good 5-day full-time training session to get people really into Linux.

There were some highlights of course. We accidentally wiped out a rather important NTFS filesystem, and had to get my student Srinath to come and recover the files for us. There are no FOSS tools that will recover files from a formatted NTFS partition unfortunately, or at least none that we could figure out how to use. We recorded this week's Sinhalen FOSS podcast while at Thalduwa. Walking down the road, down by the Seethawaka River, at the training session, and in our hotel room.

We also took a good look at the social situation here in Thalduwa. As a wanna-be amateur sociologist, I noticed something interesting about the place. The place has no liquor stores!! Really. None at all. And it seems to be a pretty large place. On the other hand, after about 2000hrs the roads are full of drunks. This means that there is a thriving moonshine business going on.

I spoke to some of the teachers about it, and was told that this is normal for the place. I think it is a symptom. The place is an economic dead end. Most of the local populace depend on the twice-weekly pola or market for income. While kids are given an education, it is rudimentary at best, Computers in general and the Internet in particular are looked on as a source of corruption. Understandable, since the students themselves seem to look on it only as a way to get at porn. Which is not a good way to do things. Really.

Thalduwa is, like many such places in Sri Lanka and around the world, a dead-end. If you're born here, its a pretty good chance that there is no way out. Even if you could get out, it will always be a part of your life, a ball and chain on your ankle, holding you back and slowing you down. No wonder people here are more concerned with getting drunk, videos and porn rather than abstract concepts like IT and the Internet.

I feel sorry for them really. I've been privileged to grow up all over the world, see many things, and do even more. If I walk around barefoot in ratty jeans, it is safe in the knowledge that I can cut my hair, change my looks and talk my way into a good job. But there are many out there who can't, or don't even know that there is an opportunity like that waiting for them.

Thalduwa has had an exposure to FOSS and freedom. Or at least some of the teachers have. Maybe they'll make use of this opportunity. But, somehow, I doubt it. I liked doing what I did. But while the teachers who came to the sessions benefited, there is little chance that the students will. We can only hope of course.

The End of The World

2008-05-11T10:36:00.001+05:30

Muse

The world ended when I was fifteen. It didn't end with a bang. It didn't end with a whimper. It ended with a. A sigh.

The kind of sigh that says contentment. That says I have done what I came to do. And now I'm leaving.

The sigh my father used to make when he finished yard-work and looked back at the house, knowing there was beer cooling in the icebox, and maybe football on TV.

It had been coming for a while I guess, the End of The World. It was waiting for us. Just as we, in our own way, were waiting for it.

I still remember the day the world ended. We all do. It was the defining point of our generation. Just as one generation had Where Were You When Kennedy Was Shot?, we have Where Were You When The World Ended?

So where was I? Looking out, watching the world end. I had been the Watcher all my life, and I felt no need to change that just because the world was ending. You could see the world end. And you could see it best in peoples' faces. Some of them were waiting for it. Some with fear, some with anticipation.

Every religion in the world had something to say about The End of The World. Thousands had died in the riots. Hundreds more had committed suicide in acts of penitence. Governments had toppled, confessions were made. Some people gathered food. Others weapons. Many were determined to survive The End.

The media had a field day. With The End nigh, whistle blowers and stool pigeons came out of the woodwork. Old grudges were taken out and given a good airing. Families split up as people made their final decisions where they would spend The End. Disaster movies played endlessly on TV. No movie was too old. No plot line too thin.

Governments admitted they had known The End was coming. And had known it for a long time. They admitted they didn't tell us. They admitted everything. What they didn't admit, they were accused of by those who had been in on the cover-up. Records were leaked. And the leaks became bigger and bigger. Each trying to outdo the other. The leaks became torrents, torrents became deluges, and deluges became floods as the dams of secrecy crumbled.

We even found out who killed Kennedy.

Governments collapsed. The United States had three impeachments in three days. Seven Presidents of The United States were declared and recalled in a fortnight. Finally, The End did what the Civil War could not. The States decided to go their own way with vague promises to get together sometime, like acquaintances who meet at a party.

Some countries stayed stable. Some devolved into anarchy. Dictators tightened the reins and found themselves killed by their own cronies. England gave up on an ineffectual Prime Minister and turned back to the Royals. Countries Balkanized as ancient wars broke out anew. After all, The End was Nigh, and you may never get another chance to hate your neighbour.

And today, now, this moment, The End was upon us. Some faced it with equanimity, knowing they had done what they could. Knowing that Life, even if it went on after this, would be very different. Some discovered God. Sometimes quite suddenly. Prayers they had not said since they were children found voice. All over the world, a billion tongues in a thousand languages called prayers to a million gods. Others, just watched. Just as I was watching them, they watched the skies. People left their houses. Some by themselves, some with friends, or families, or just people they wanted to be with. And yet, they were alone. We could be in a crowd of tens, hundreds, thousands, or millions. But we each faced The End alone.

It was bright. Screaming with fire. Its sound a thunder as it burned through the sky. Clouds roiled in its wake. A sonic boom turned skyscrapers into mass murderers as glass shattered and fell hundreds of feet into the throng below. Buildings rattled, people fell to their hands and knees, some in religious ecstasy, some overwhelmed by the awe of seeing something that had travelled billions of miles in space, now travelling a few thousand feet above their heads. Some may have even noticed the multiple shadows at their feet, as the burning brightness equalled, then surpassed, the Sun.

It was not alone. It was followed by many others. There were enough, they said, that not a single country would be spared.

None of us would escape The End.

They went once around the Earth. That too was expected. Some believed that after that they would pass by. That they would be moving too fast to stay. Others believed that it would just slow them down just enough to stay in orbit. Neither of them were given much credence.

We all knew it was The End of The World. We all knew that everyone else was in denial. We all knew what was coming.

They came around again. Slower this time. The passage through the atmosphere had slowed them. This time, as they passed overhead, we saw their shadows fall on us. And we knew, like we had never known before, we knew that they were here. It was now. This was truly The End of The World.

Then they landed.

The doors opened with a sigh. The sigh of satisfaction. Of contentment. Of a job well done. Of a long journey completed safely.

The World ended.

Let's talk about Bridges

2008-04-19T00:31:00.004+05:30

Muse

Lets talk about the bridge over the Kelaniya railway crossing. The one that The Beast walked over. The one that Mad Merv renamed after one of the biggest crooks in Sri Lankan politics. Let's talk about Two-Point-One billion Rupees. After all, all the media were talking about it. Parroting on about how it was built in record time, with minimal interference to traffic. Everyone's having an orgasm about it. So let's talk.

Let's talk about the facts. We are not building one overpass, we are building two. The reason that we are building it this way is because the company that created and designed - and patented - the bridge doesn't build four-lane overpasses. They only build two- and three-lane overpasses. So the basic fact of the matter, is that we have to buy not one, but two bridges from the company - Mabey & Johnson. The other, is that this is not a world record. There are no records for building bridges. There are records for longest, biggest, widest etc., but not for fastest. This is simply the fastest that this type of bridge was built using the Mabey & Johnson technology.

Let's talk a bit of history. Mabey & Johnson came into Sri Lanka to build bridges for the Army. They provided the components for a bridge in Jaffna that was assembled by the Army Engineering Corps. From their website, it looks like Mabey & Johnson specialise in modular bridges that need to be built fast, doing work for military forces worldwide. They also have an overpass-building project in Panama and the Philippines. But something to note is that the bridges are mainly built using a process that is proprietary to Mabey & Johnson. Remember that word proprietary it will become important in the future.

When the decision was made to build the Kelaniya Overpass, the contract was given to Access International (who don't seem to have a website by the way), who came with the proposal for the bridge as well as the payment plan for it. The payment was to be in the form of a loan from the British Government and a commercial loan from the HSBC, supposedly at 9% interest on a dollar loan. Details of this loan did not make it into the media, but probably had something to do with Sri Lanka's Sovereign rating being downgraded to a B+. I don't know the exact loan split, but it is probable that the British Government loan paid for the bridge itself, while the HSBC loan paid for construction, installation, and, shall we say, other expenses.

There was, I hope, a tender process. If there was, I am sure that the big construction companies in Sri Lanka would have bid on it. Companies like Maga, ICC and others. I guess people like Jeyaraj and The Beast know why Access was chosen, But it could not have been because they were the lowest bidder. When looking at any project, it is wise to look at the Project triangle. A spin-off from the engineering field, the Project Triangle is a simple statement - You can have the project done fast, cheap, or well. You can pick two.

Let's talk about proprietary. For a Free and Open-Source Software advocate like me it means that the software I use is not not easily or changed, modified, or even repaired. It is the difference between USD400 for Microsoft Windows and downloading Linux for free. It is the difference between paracetamol and Panadol. It is, to very unofficially quote the engineer in charge of the project, the difference between a two rupee pill and a two hundred rupee pill. To be fair to the gentleman, he apparently said that with a very shamed look on his face. I wasn't there, but I know someone who was. The design of the overpass is quite simple. Concrete base. Galvanised steel struts. And the proprietary Mabey deck provided in modular form with factory applied anti-skid surfacing. Proprietary. Which means that when something happens to the bridge, we have to get the parts from Mabey & Johnson. I hope we went with the Extended Service Warranty.

Let's talk about building bridges. Let's, in fact, talk about a bridge that is under construction at the moment. Concrete, four lanes, two spans, over water. You may have even seen it. It's being built in Bentota, as a replacement for the old iron bridge. The construction is being done by the State Development and Construction Corporation (SD&CC). Mind you SD&CC have been blacklisted by the ADB for being too slow and too corrupt. But they are doing the job. Slowly maybe, but the job is being done.

Another bridge is the Bolgoda Bridge on the Panadura-Ingiriya road. Fifty four meters long. Three spans. Concrete decking, and built on a marsh after removing the current bridge. Build time almost 18 months. Build cost, 74 million rupees. It's official number is 8/3 and it's being built by the ICC. If you were to extrapolate this linearly, the same bridge, of the same length as the Kelaniya Overpass, would cost 445 million rupees. Mind you, they spent an extra 8 million rupees because they wanted to use the existing abutments instead of placing new ones. The old ones had rotted away, and needed repairs. The repairs cost 8 million rupees, new abutments would have cost about 2.5 million. And building on a marsh is not easy. You have to deal with water, mud, floods, pilings, and probably the occasional crocodile. Building in a marsh requires a whole different level of infrastructure. It's not like you can drive a 40-foot trailer loaded with equipment on to the spot and start working; something you can do on ground based bridges and overpasses.

As a point of interest, it should be noted that the original Bolgoda Bridge was a special kind of bridge. It was made of two solid spans which met in the middle but were not joined. They were a simple cantilever, and took all the traffic that went over it. Built by the British, it was the only one of its kind in Asia. Its destruction was a loss to Sri Lankan Engineering history.

So, the Kelaniya Overpass, built on solid ground, with minimal piling, cost four times as much as a similar bridge over a marsh, wit all the concomitant problems, would cost.

Let's talk about building a bridge. Let's talk about engineering contracts. Let's talk about technology. The Kelaniya Overpass was half-built in 60 days. There is an equal amount to be built. So technically speaking the bridge was not completed in record time. It's not even complete. But let's say that's beside the point. The point is, a bridge like that could have been built at speed, for a much lower cost. The technology is not only available, but is in common use in Sri Lanka. Prefabricated concrete structures can be built and sent to any part of the country. You may have seen some of them on low-bed trailers as you drove by them. Admixtures to concrete can greatly decrease the setting time. They too are used in Sri Lankan engineering. With admixtures it is possible to lay a concrete decking for a bridge, and have it cured and ready for vehicles to pass over it in four days. With plain concrete it is four weeks. Admixtures have been used in bridges in Sri Lanka. If you travel a lot, you may have even gone over them. One of them is the Bolgoda bridge on the Panadura-Ingiriya road. With admixtures, it took only four days for the concrete on the bridge to set to a strength that would allow cars to drive over it.

The fact of the matter is, we have the technology, We have the companies to do it. We can, using an engineering and legal term called acceleration have built the bridge in under four months. It would have cost us less than a tenth of what was paid to build the current overpass. How do we do this?

Let's talk logistics. The big selling point of the current overpass is that the disruption of traffic was minimal. Well, that's not that difficult anymore is it? Around the world, road building projects are done at night. You start work at 7PM and stop at 6AM. You use more lights than a Rolling Stones concert. You plan everything to a T. You prefabricate everything you can prefab, and bring it to the site. You buy up some land along the project (and lets face it, 10 million Rupees can buy quite a bit of land) and use that as the bypass road. It's really not that difficult. Talk to an engineer, he'll tell you how it can be done.

Let's talk about money. Talking to an experienced engineer, I found that the overpass could have been done in four months for Rupees 210 Million. That, my friends, is one tenth of the price we paid for it. One Tenth. Ten percent. Money we obtained on a commercial loan. Money that you and I will have to pay, with interest and inflation, in the next few years. And we all know how the Sri Lankan tender system works. Whoever runs the tender gets a commission. It used to be 3-4%, now it is at 10% and climbing. Military contracts can generate as much as 60% in commissions. So where does the money go? Well, the Minister for Roads and Highways gets a cut. In this case it was Jeyaraj Fernandopulle. But a deal this big would not end there would it? It is entirely possible that The Beast would get a piece of the action too. A very large piece.

Let's talk about the future. Let's talk about having to pay 2.1 billion Rupees back, with interest and inflation. That means that every man, woman, and child in Sri Lanka will be paying at least an extra LKR150 in taxes. And since not everyone pays taxes, if you are paying taxes, you're paying their share too. I'm sure they thank you for it. Think about it when the next tax day comes. Part of what you're paying, goes to pay for something that could have been done for one tenth of the cost. I hope that gives you a warm feeling in your stomach, It's called heartburn, and acid reflux, and a lot of other names. It means that you have eaten something that you're having a hard time digesting.

Let's also talk about the future of the bridge. Will they ever complete the second part? Will a galvanised iron bridge with a non-slip surfacing last? How long will the surface last? The standard lifespan of an asphalt (that's tar to you non-technical folks) road surface is 5 years. Which is to say that the surface must be replaced every 5 years. How long will the surface last on the overpass, especially under the heavy traffic on the bridge? Since it is made of proprietary technology, we will have to go back to them to get it replaced. What is the replacement cost going to be? If you use a Gillette razor, or a bubble-jet printer you may know what I mean. You get the hardware cheap. A Mach3 costs what? 500 Rupees? 600? But the blades, which last you 30 days of shaving, cost 800 Rupees for a pack of four. It could be more, I haven't bought a razor blade in a while. In the same way, a bubble-jet printer costs 6,000 Rupees. But a cartridge for it costs 2,000 Rupees. Proprietary technology means that when you need a replacement, you're at the mercy of the proprietor.

Let's talk about the future of the project. After all, there are 5 more such bridges being planned for the immediate future, with 222 planned for the whole project. The question is, can we afford that many bridges at this price? Is there any competent oversight on the project? After all, if a bridge can be built of concrete for one tenth the price for double the time, would the speed gain be worth it?

This project is one of the subjects that comes up now in engineering circles in Sri Lanka, but the media seem to be very happy to keep its collective mouths shut. It's understandable. After all, there are few people in the media who understand engineering. So let's talk. Let's talk about bridges, and overpasses, and money, and the future. Because these things are subjects that we need to talk about. After all, we're paying for them.

I would like to state something at the end. I am not an investigative journalist. A lot of what I have said is based on my conversations with a few engineers. The part about the bribery is pure speculation based on the tendencies and propensities of the people involved in the deal. Personally, I would love to see a real journalist have a go at this subject. After all, they're supposed to have more contacts and investigative skills than a geek blogger. I'll even help in any way I can. If you want to use any of the content here, feel free. I'm not even looking for credit. Take this information and run with it. Pass it around. See what more you can find. Please.

The right to secede

2008-04-09T13:06:00.002+05:30

Muse

A friend of mine asked me something a while back, Does anyone and everyone have the right to secede from the country? Can I, if I wanted to, secede and declare myself a separate nation?

I didn't have an answer for him at that time. But I had to sit and have a good old-fashioned think about it. Could I come up with an argument for secession that would sound believable to me, the cynic? It took time to think of and cogitate over.

So lets start off with the basics. What is secession? Wikipedia, in its entry on Secession says:

,Secession (derived from the Latin term secessio) is the act of withdrawing from an organization, union, or political entity. It is not to be confused with succession, the act of following in order or sequence. Typically there is a strong issue difference that drives the withdrawal. Though the term is often associated with full civil war, there are different degrees of secession, some as minor as a particular neighborhood seeking to become a separate municipality from a larger city, while still maintaining greater local or national ties.

So the act of secession, breaking away from a larger whole, is more or explained. But who has the right to do it? And what gives them that right? The best way is to look at who has the right to create the larger whole. Power, being fractal, devolves. Every country was formed by someone. Dravidian fishermen colonised Sri Lanka, then were conquered by a hooligan prince who got chased out of his home in disgrace for being too much of a trouble maker, broke into multiple sovereign countries, were conquered, broke free, re, and re-re-conquered, were unified by Gamini the Evil, who killed an old and respected king for it, broke into pieces again, then taken over by the Portuguese, who were kicked out by the Dutch, who were kicked out by the English, who finally gave independence, which was broken up by Prabhakaran and co. seceding, and now being reconquered. That, as they say is a brief political history of Sri Lanka. And lets not forget that during all this, we also had time for fishermen from the south of Sri Lanka to go and establish a new country in the Maldives.

So what is that all in aid of? Basically to prove a point. Countries are created by right of Acquiris quodcumque rapis, you keep what you can grab (familiar for those of you who watched The Chronicles of Riddick as you keep what you kill). If you can grab it, and keep it from those who would take it from you, then it's yours. All power is derived from that simple system, including the democratic power we value so much. We get voted into power and then do whatever we can to stop our opposition from pushing us out and taking power.

So what gives you the right to secede from the country? Why don't we all do it? We have every moral right to secede from the country. Even if the constitution legally prohibits it. It is interesting to note, that the Constitution is written by those in power, and, unless you are really lucky, it is written to maintain the power of those people. So the Constitution prohibits secession. But do we, as citizens, have the right to secede? I think we do. But, why don't we? The short and simple asnwer.. magic.

The magic that makes us believe that a piece of paper confers ownership. That a deed, a receipt, a registration, means that we own what we have, and that we can get the backing of people with force to either help us keep it, or to get it if we lose it. If we declare secession, we then declare that we no longer require what the initial confederation gave to us. We can refuse to pay taxes, or rates. We can only pay for services received. We can require visas and permission for people to come to our house, and in the same way be able to refuse people access to our house. Or I should say micronation. Some of these rights we already have. Property rights, the right to have a search warrant before the police can enter your house, the right to defend yourself with lethal force from someone who enters your house. They are all there. And yet, without secession, our house can be seized from us for non-payment of taxes or rates, can be taken from us by Eminent Domain, or simply by some politician's thugs deciding to take over.

the problem is that if you do secede, and declare yourself free, the government will come down on you hard. No government wants you to be free from it. It may start a trend. If you can defend your own. if you can make your own, or trade for it, if you can maintain your own stretch of road, or in some way contribut to maintaining your most often used road, if you can look after yourself with minimal impact on and from the rest of the community, you don't need a government picking your pocket. And governments really don't want you to know that. So if you were to declare independence/secession, they would come down on you like a ton of bricks. And every other government in the world would help them. Witness what happened to The republic of Minerva. A bunch of Libertarians created a private island on an unclaimed piece of reef in international waters. When that happened, every country around them hammered them down, with Tonga declaring that they owned the island and sending troops to take over.

So that is what stops us from seceding from Sri Lanka. Not some moral reason to stay part of the country, but that if we were to do so, the government would attack us, and possibly kill us for attempting to break away from their hand on our throat, and their fingers in our pockets.

The right to secede is important. The right to break away, or not support a course of action. The right to say Not in my name, and not with my money. That is the true power of secession. And unfortunately, governments understand that. They don't want you breaking up their voting bloc. They especially don't want you infecting the other sheep with your heretical ideas on independence.

And so, back to secession. Do I believe that we have to right to secede? Yes I do. But we also have the right to take the consequences. If you are willing to do a Braveheart, and run at the cops screaming they can take away our lives but they can't take away our freedom, feel free to exercise that right. But remember, we still do have rights here in Sri Lanka. Even if you can't secede, know wht they are, and exercise them.

Adey Prabha aiya

2008-04-07T10:11:00.002+05:30

Muse

Is this the way to run a terrorist organisation? I mean really. You're supposed to be scaring people. You know, dropping bombs from planes, taking out schools, threatening us all with violent and gruesome death. After all the Government needs something to jusify the rising cost of living, the inefficient infrastructure, the attacks on anyone and everyone who dares to criticise The Beast, and all the other bullshit we're going through.

And now you go and do this. I mean how dare you kill Jeyaraj. After all he did for the country. After he created and supported the airport taxi mafia, after he stole billions of rupees from the country in kickbacks - yes, yes, I know 10% of the LKR2.1 billion for an overpass is not much nowadays, when you can't even get a packet of rice for under LKR100, and a lot of that also went to The Beast - after he helped The Beast send you a whole lot of money so that you'd throw the Jaffna elections in favour of The Beast. How can you do this to him?

I mean, we want to hate you. We love to hate you. Modern mothers scare their children with the kotiya instead of goni billa of our childhood. And then you do this. You blow poor old Jeyaraj up. How can we hate you after this? How can we tell people Yes, the LTTE are terrorists, and have done nothing good for the people of this country, whether Sinhala or Tamil? But then, you did take out K A Karunaratne, our only hope for at least a we didn't come last at the Olympics. Maybe you should learn to use smaller bombs and get closer in?

But seriously Prabha machan, (can I call you machan?) killing Jeyaraj is not the way to maintain your evil terrorist status. But if you don't mind losing it, can I recommend Mad Merv for the next one? You'll even get the Rupavahini crowd on your side then.

Memories of Arthur

2008-03-19T08:14:00.002+05:30

Muse

Arthur C Clarke died today. No, I'm not going to link to the Wikipedia page or any of the many thousand pages about him on the net. If you don't know who he was, it's your loss. This loss is mine.

One of the first Clarke books I read was Dolphin Island. Put a little sci-fi with some good kids story and add dolphins.. Perfect for a young geek-in-the-making like me. As time went on I read his other books, Fountains of Paradise, Childhood's End, 2001, and on, and on. There was a time when not a day went by that I didn't have a Clarke in my book bag. And as I grew up, so, for some reason did his books. Reading Fountains of Paradise now, gives me a different view from when I was a kid. 2001 shows more now than it did when I was (12? 13?) well, whenever it was I read it.

My only memory of meeting Clarke was at the Otter club (or was it the SSC?) in 1993. He used to come there to swim and play table tennis. I was there with a friend of mine, and saw Clarke at the TT table getting ready to play with one of his minders (always young, always good looking, and always male), so I went up, introduced myself and asked if I could have the honour of a game. He was kind enough to agree. And he kicked my ass. Now I'm not much of a TT player. Hell, the main reason I played was so that some day I could tell people, Yeah, I played table tennis with Arthur C Clarke. But this was humiliating. A 75 year old man, who was supporting himself by holding on to the table with one hand, and not even moving from his position, beat me. he just had a massive reach, and a killer top spin that had me bouncing all over the place, while he calmly stayed there. As a friend of mine said when I told him this: Pwnt!

I guess that is one of the memories I'll carry to my grave.

We all knew about Clarke being gay. But I think many of us were right pissed off when Prince Charles decided not to personally give him his knighthood because some fucking tabloid said he was a pedophile. But, in a wy, who cares. Him getting a knighthood wouldn't change the impact he has made on us geeks. And the greatest honour he can get, is knowing that he will live forever. As long as there are people looking up at the stars and dreaming, whether they know it or not, there will be a bit of Clarke looking up with them. And one day, when they finally build the space elevator, I hope they name at least part of it after the man who dreamt of it.

For me, that was Arthur C Clarke. The writer, the visionary, the dreamer, the guy who schooled me in table tennis. I'm not going to speak of his other work. There are many others to talk about his contributions to science and all. Let them talk about those. As for me, I hope his spirit finds his way to its final home, and he finds out that it's full of stars.

Rupavahini, you fucking cowards

2008-03-14T13:56:00.002+05:30

Rant

You know, I was so proud of the guys at Rupavahini Corporation. True, they bend over like a cheap butt-boy when the new government comes in. So much so that they have two divisions in the News section, the Pinnawela crowd (named after the famous elephant orphanage), and the Nilkamal crowd (named after the chair makers, and because the name has the word nil in it). True that they will tell you the news in completely fair and balanced fashion, fair to the government and balanced towards the government. But at least they took on Mervyn Silva.

Not many of us will forget the many pictures and live telecasts of Mervyn Silva, the biggest thug next to The Beast, getting beaten up by the Rupavahini Corporation employees when he beat up their news director. People were fucking cheering. Its not often that we get to see the thugs in parliament get their comeuppance, and when we do, by Eris we enjoy it. I remember raising a glass to the Rupavahini guys soon after.

No one was surprised either when the CIB started investigating the employees for attacking the Honourable Minister for Labour instead of the actions that led up to it. We were shocked and stunned to hear that Mervyn the Mad had been offered a position in the Constitutional Council in exchange for resigning his Ministerial post. Shocked, stunned, dismayed, but not necessarily surprised. After all, The Beast looks after his own. We weren't very surprised to find that the News Director was sacked, that the reporters were being attacked.

Then comes this. The Rupavahini Corporation employees have gone on strike. No more live programming. they say, until they receive an assurance from The Beast that the attacks on journalists will stop.

No mention of Mervyn the Mad, no mention of the CIB investigation, no mention of the News Director who was beaten up by both Mad Merv and his bodyguards. No mention, even, of the one hour protest they had outside the Rupavahini office. None. Just please stop hitting us and we'll let you fuck us in the ass all you want.

For a moment there, Rupavahini was a hero. A shining example for what happens to power mad politicians who decide that they can do whateverthefuck they want. All this ends today. Rupavahini is now officially a warning. The Beast has sent his message, as he has done many times before. Bow to me and there will be perks. Let me beat you up, assrape you, fuck your daughter, and I'll give you a job for life. But say one word of complaint, refuse, or, worse, stand up to me, and there will be thugs in they night. White vans to pick you up. iron bars to put you in hospital.

Rupavahini, I feel sorry for you. You stood up to them, and you got beaten down for it. They haven't come to the blogosphere yet, but I am sure that there will be many of us caving if they did. But the warning is there. We can expect Rupavahini to toe the line from now on. Mad Merv won't even have to come to the office anymore. He can threaten them with a phone call, and it will be Athiwishishtaiy SIR!! And we can expect the same thing. if this is what happens to the media what chance do us normal fools have?

Rupavahini, you fucking cowards. You let the media down, you let the country down. We never expected anything less from you. But seeing you fall like this after you were such a shining example, that hurts. That hurts bad.

Breaking your pride

2008-03-14T09:29:00.001+05:30

Muse

An interesting thing happened to me a few minutes ago. A guy came to the Center. He said his son was paralyzed, and in physiotherapy. His son was also getting treatment from a buddhist monk. I've heard this kind of sob story before, and I usually just ignore it. It is a preface to a request for money. Many beggars have the story down so pat that they say it with a certain rhythm that comes from saying it so many times. So I said I didn't have any change. I do that a lot. and so do you. But then he told me something that made it all different. He was on a hingaman baaraya - a vow where he goes begging from house to house. He's hitting 7 houses in 21 villages as the vow. He would take any amount of cash, it doesn't matter what. He spoke pretty decent English too. So I gave him two bucks lying in the desk at the Center.

Then I sat down to think. We all have pride. We have pride in our work, pride in our lives, pride in the things we do. But no pride is greater than our pride in our pride. I will not beg, we say, no matter what happens. We would rather work for a meal doing the shittiest job rather than beg someone for a meal or money. Seeing someone beg for their lives, their virtue or something disturbs us. Even if we see it in a movie. Beggars disturb us not because they beg, but because they show us what could happen if we weren't so lucky to be born into the privileged position we have.

And this guy is out begging.

The Mad Monk, goes begging too. He takes his paaththaraya and goes begging for food. Then he sits and eats that unholy looking mess. Monks are supposed to beg. At least that was what the original plan was. Unlike some of the begging types in India who enter your house and take some food from the dishes (gowkari they call it), in dotelkay, they travel with the begging bowl and hope someone donates. Sometimes he comes back with a begging bowl full of soap, or sugar, or tea leaves. Those days, he doesn't eat. Not even when I go get food for him.

But back to begging. I take a certain perverse pride in my lack of care. I go around barefoot, I wear raggedy jeans and t-shirts in basic black. But I pride myself in not begging. I'm too proud to beg, I say. I prefer to starve rather than beg for food. Not that i have to starve too often. There's always a friend or auntie willing to drop off some food for me. But I ain't begging, oh no. Not me

Then I meet this guy. Who comes to me at 0800 and asks me for any money I have, no matter what the amount, so that he can fulfill his vow of begging. Why would someone make a vow like that? Would it really matter? Would his son be cured if he begged? Would I beg a hundred and twenty six people for the offchance that my kid would walk? How proud am I really?

This hingaman baaraya is about that. About leaving your pride behind. About showing that there are levels that you would go down to for the sake of someone you love. Would you beg your girlfriend to come back to you? Or maybe take you back? I've done it. Most of us have. Would you beg a school principal to take your kid into a school? Or a minister to get you a job? We usually prefer to bribe them, money costs less than our pride, and they can't sell your pride in the market.

But could I, you, anyone you know, walk up to complete strangers and ask them for money? Or for food? Or for your son's legs? I don't know the anser to that one. I really don't.

So I gave him the money I had. It wasn't much, just two bucks. But it wasn't the money he was looking for. It was, I guess, good wishes, or maybe understanding. I don't know. But I saw a man who made a vow to give up his pride for the sake of his son. I don't know if I could ever be that.

Is the Upali Group dead?

2008-02-26T18:45:00.000+05:30

Muse

Yesterday, (the 25th Feb), I bought a slab of Kandos Chocolate. The big slab, 180 grams, LKR200. Yes, I like chocolate. No you can't have any.

So I start munching away at it. I like my chocolate melty, when you get this gooey paste that you can spread between your tongue and upper palate. Get the temperature right and its like a velvety, chocolatey layer. Feels so.. decadent. Mmmm mmm mmm mmm.

My indulgence was stopped by the poking of something sharp into my tongue. So after cleaning it off, I spit it out to take a look at it. It was a tiny metal shaving, about a quarter-inch long, slightly curved, and rather sharp at both ends. Anyone who has been near mechanical stuff can tell you this was a metal shaving off a machine, possibly a sheared off or thread-stripped bolt. Suddenly, I don't feel quite so decadent anymore.

Now I'm the first guy to admit that I need more iron in my diet. But I prefer to get it in the form of good rare steaks. And I think even the most frothing-at-the-mouth health addict would suggest that I get my daily recommended intake in a slightly less direct form than pure metal shavings. So, I decide to call them up and see what's going on. Maybe tell them to check their machinery or something like that. And the hunt was on.

The first stop is Google, with a search for upali company sri lanka. Among the many myriad results are the links for The Island, and the wikipedia entry for Upali Wijewardene, the founder of the company who died when his Lear jet exploded 25 years ago last week (Feb 19, 1983 to be precise). No help there, but now I know its called The Upali Group of Companies. Come Watson, the game's afoot.

So the next search is for upali group of companies +contact. For those of you who don't know, adding the + to the search makes sure that the word following it is there in the sarch page. For phrases, use the plus-sign followed by the phrase in quotes. And the first result was a news release from Sri Lanka Telecom informing people that they are to provide total communication solution to Upali Group. Which, I assume, means the numbers are on SLT's directory, especially since the release was in 2007. So there's my next stop.

And so, my next search is the Business section of SLT's online phone book. A search for Upali brings 88 search results, of which at least 40 are for the Upali Group of Companies. One of them - (011) 234 2238 - is for Ceylon Chocolates Ltd. And a call to the number informs me that it is not in use. This cannot be good. So I randomly try a few more numbers, excluding the newspaper ones. It's the same response to them all. Curiouser and curiouser. But now I have a direct company name - Ceylon Chocolates Ltd.

Back to the Goog and this time the search is ceylon chocolates. Multiple hits, and the 6th on the list is from the national Chamber of Exporters, and they have a number for the Marketing Director. Success at last!! So I call the number - 011 2446611 - and I get asked if the person is a patient. Patient? Patient!!?? What the fuck? Apparently now the number is front desk number of the Nawaloka Hospital. Back to square 1.

A bit more digging gets me a link that points me to 011 4609000, which is a Suntel number that also doesn't work. And the NCE site tells me that the email is ccl@upali.lk. So now I have two leads. www.upali.lk is a non-working site, and upali.lk leads to some kind of login page with the LankaCom logo on it. But first, I decide to search on the Suntel directory page, and a search for upali there gives 39 results. Of which, 35 are for either Upali Investment Holdings Ltd. (29 numbers), or Upali Newspapers Ltd. (6 numbers). And the Upali Investment Holdings numbers are not in use. So I call up Suntel's helpline. Asked for the numberd for Upali Investment Holdings, and was promptly told that the numbers have been disconnected for non-payment. Oops.

Next I called up LankaCom. A few phone calls later, and some machan-talk to a bunch of guys, and I find that LankaCom's deal with Upali is probably on a contra basis. Which means that LankaCom gives them service, and Upali gives them free advertising. There is no sign that the Upali account is in deliquency, so the contract should go on for a while longer. Since LankaCom runs the Island and Divaina sites, it is unlikely that this will end any thime soon.

Now here are my questions, and if anyone can answer them I would be very grateful. First, what is the phone number for Kandos/Ceylon Chocolates Ltd.? I don't have the wrapper, but I would like to get the number. What is the financial status of the Upali Group? Once one of the largest and most stable Sri Lankan conglomerates, they had newspapers, electronics, an internal airline (remember Upali Helicopters?), estates, and even a motor car assembly plant. Upali Wijewardene was planning on eventually running for president. And now, they seem to be in delinquency to payments to at least Suntel, and probably to SLT as well. The Upali Group of Companies is now Upali Investment Holdings Ltd. When this kind of shell game is done, it means that things are heading south, and the investors are about to be skinned while the Directors run off with the assets.

I am not sure where to go next with this. I am not going to go hunting for the account balances of the Upali Group in whatever name it has. I don't have the time, I don't have the resources, I don't have the patience. Maybe someone who'll make money writing this for the newspapers can follow it up. All I know is that Upali used to be great. Now it is far from it. And Upali Wijewardene is probably spinning in his watery grave.

I ain't no Casanova

2008-02-22T12:16:00.003+05:30

Muse

I watched Casanova last night. Heath Ledger, Eris rest his soul, was in fine form there. portaying the greatest lover in the world as one who was simply looking for love in all the wrong places.

The real >Casanova was, apparently, not the libertine we imagine him to be. Guys tend to think of him as the ultimate stud, loving and leaving them. breaking hearts, and cuckolding husbands. He was a man in love with women, searching for that special someone - falling in love with strong women, ones who could take him on as an equal. Women who actually were strong enough to rise above the restrictions imposed on them by the society of the time.

So he had a lot of lovers, but possibly not as many as some people today. His multi-decade career gave him only 200 notches on his bedpost. This in an era when cuckoldry and seduction were not only socially acceptable, but were raised to a fine art. His exploits would possibly have been mundane even for that time period, if it weren't for the fact that he ended up as a librarian at the end of his life, and actually had the time to write his memoirs. What can be seen on reading them, is that in his life, he was the conquest at least as often as he was the conqueror, the victim almost as often as he was the hunter.

So what, does this have to do with me? Anyone who knows me can tell you. I ain't no Casanova. I may have some small successes, but I am not good enough to pull like he did. I'm simply not that good. But he and I have one thing in common. All we want is to be loved. it was the desire to be loved that led him on his way, and that. I think is the defining characteristic of the man. That he would do things that are stupid, and downright self-destructive in search of true love.

So why does Giacomo Casanova affect me so much? Maybe it's the difference between the man and the myth. The first time I read the Memoirs was a 1970's era book. A highly abridged version that cut out all the real bits and focused on the good bits. It was a sex-book masquerading as literature (not that there's anything wrong with that). But the thing is, I am actually enjoying reading the full-length, unabridged translation, with all his foibles explained than the one I read somewhere in my teens.

I have spent many years looking for acceptance. And I have made the mistake of assuming that by changing who I am to a more acceptable form, I too can gain the acceptance that i crave. I have mistaken love for acceptance, only to find that love tends to fade very quickly when you ask it to accept things. I have mistaken people who use the love and affection I feel for them to gain what they want. I could say that I have seen it all and done it all, but that would imply that there is no more stupidity left for me to commit in the name of love.

So yes, I ain't no Casanova. But then, neither was Casanova. He is not the sexual predator that modern day culture makes him out to be. He's not the patron saint of playas. In fact, he is a man, looking for something that he may never have found. And at the end so are we all. So many of us want to be loved, to be accepted for what we are. And yet, so few of us find that kind of love and acceptance.

I end this, how Casanova begins his Narrative.

The reader of these Memoirs will discover that I never had any fixed aim before my eyes, and that my system, if it can be called a system, has been to glide away unconcernedly on the stream of life, trusting to the wind wherever it led. How many changes arise from such an independent mode of life! My success and my misfortunes, the bright and the dark days I have gone through, everything has proved to me that in this world, either physical or moral, good comes out of evil just as well as evil comes out of good. My errors will point to thinking men the various roads, and will teach them the great art of treading on the brink of the precipice without falling into it. It is only necessary to have courage, for strength without self-confidence is useless. I have often met with happiness after some imprudent step which ought to have brought ruin upon me, and although passing a vote of censure upon myself I would thank God for his mercy. But, by way of compensation, dire misfortune has befallen me in consequence of actions prompted by the most cautious wisdom. This would humble me; yet conscious that I had acted rightly I would easily derive comfort from that conviction.

Boom shake shake shake the room

2008-02-06T13:07:00.000+05:30

Rant

Look at the pretty bombs. People dying every where. The LTTE drops some, the LKGov drops some, then the LTTE drops some more, and the LKGov drops a few and blame it on the LTTE, and then Jeppo drops some to show that they're still there. Meanwhile, We the People are dropping turds in our pants.

Did we really think that bombing the uncleared area was going to go without retaliation? When the LRRP takes out a school bus, did they ever think that there would be retaliation? When we dumped the CFA did we really think that we would be allowed to just get away with stuff? We killed their political leaders, they're targeting ours. We drop bombs on all sorts of areas and they return the favour. Welcome to the Mahamulana Chinthanaya. If you don't know about the area, ask an old-school Down Souther to tell you about it.

I'm not really fussed about the bombs. I'm not going to shout for more and better security. I'm definitely not going to scream for the ineffectual checkpoints to be brought back. I don't want security theater.

I want the fucking bigwigs who run this country to go around just like us. No checkpoints, no security guards, just them. Then they can see how much we love and respect them.

I think I speak for most Sri Lankans when I ask the LTTE to please stop hitting civillian targets. Most of us just want to live in peace. Many of us have nothing against you. But, hey, feel free to drop a load on the House on the Diyawanna. I'll even tell you some wonderful locations to fire from. Do us all a favour eh?

The bombs keep going off of course, and the LKGov does its level best to make sure that we live in a state of fear. What they don't realise is that the Sri Lankans only seem like an apathetic bunch. We'll take a lot of punishment, but eventually we'll turn on you. Bombs don't worry us much. We're getting used to blasts. We did it before and we'll do it again. The Jeppo used terror against us, and yet we got used to that too. And one day, we'll turn on you. Not because of the bombs. Not because of the terror. Not because The Beast and his brethren lied to us. But because we are sick and tired of this shit. Tired of the taxes we pay lining his pockets, tired of him living the high life while the price of food goes higher and higher. Remember the lessons of Premadasa, we may fear you, but we won't love you or help you. And when the time comes, there'll be fireworks all over the place.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. BOOM!!

60 years and what do you get?

2008-02-04T11:23:00.000+05:30

Muse

It's 60 years since independence today. 60. Six-Oh. In Thailand, 60 is a big thing. It means that you have, astrologically at least, been through everything that life can throw at you. Everywhere else in the world, it's mandatory retirement time.

What have we got for 60 years of independence? We've got a civil war. We've got an economy in the shitter. We've got a succession of government, each more corrupt than the last. We've got a brain drain the size of Niagara Falls. We're number 11 in the World Suicide Carts, We're 94 out of 179 in the Least Corrupt Countries ranking (tied with such greats as Tanzania, Panama and Madagascar), and some people claim that we're number one in the Alcohol Consumption list.

We actually had it good under the Brits. I mean sure, we didn't have independence, sure we were second-class citizens in our own country. But, dammit, we had it good. English was the common language of education. We could travel anywhere under the aegis of the British Government. We could go to schools in such places as Oxford and Cambridge (and many of us did). We had infrastructure development, we had the Brits planning a Garden City in Colombo and other places. Sure we had to stand up and sing God Save the Quoeen/King but at least no one killed themselves over the damned words to the natonal anthem.

Ask anyone, life was good those days.

Look at us now. We're completely ass-raped by the politicians. We pay 50 bucks for a fucken loaf of bread while they pay 150 bucks for a three course buffet in parliament. We work our asses off and go home by bus while The Beast's son drives an mother-fucking DB9. They get a 500 million USD loan that they skim off to their numbered accounts and we have to pay off.

I remember hearing something a long time ago. A British colony refused independence. They took one look at the way things were, and the way things would be, and decided No thank you. I could be wrong. It could just be wishful thinking. But I do wonder. Would the fathers of our independence have pushed so hard for it if they knew what the future would bring? Would they have done it if they saw the corruption, the thousands dead, the way that the people are manipulated by those who are supposed to serve us? I mean really. In a cost-benefit analysis, are we really better off?

Yes, I am aware that the UK is a welfare state, with upto 40% taxation. I am aware that there are cameras on every street corner. I am aware that they have people who are unemployed and loving it. But they are actually fighting against having ID cards, something we take for granted. Even with the scandals they are facing, they have a much lower perceived corruption level than we do. They have infrastructure. They have a media that is not tied down by the ruling elite. They have 24 hour alcohol, and they're legalising pot. A British passport will automatically get you into just about any country. They have to be doing well, so many of the best of our country are going there.

So here's the deal. Let's start a petition to repeal independence. Let's ask the Brits to please take us back. We've had our independence, and we don't want it no more.

An attempt at poetry

2008-01-28T17:54:00.000+05:30

Muse

Written the day after the Nugegoda bomb

the rain came down today
the sky darkened and the thunder roared
the lightning flashed

the rain came down

yesterday there were darkened skies
roaring thunder and a flash

but there was no rain

yesterday there was pain
blood and suffering

today there is rain

it will wash the blood
it will clear away the soot and ashes

it will not take away the pain or suffering

but the rain comes down

Rants Raves and Miscellaneous Musings

Those who forget the lessons of history....

Rant

What is love?

Muse

Paying for Petrol

Muse

Buddha for power

Muse

Stop issuing meat, liquor, and gambling licences

Let his secretary sign them

Sign the damned things

A Blast From The Past: Time to give up on Sri Lanka

Rant

An Everlasting Emergency

Rant

The New Hotness

Rave

Wanted: A Place To Hang My Hat

Muse

This Too Shall Pass

Rant

I'm me.. deal with it

Rant

FUCK!

Rant

Scammers In The House

Muse

UPDATED 2010/08/12

The power of Human Rights cases

Muse

Why I want Mahinda to win.

Muse

Mahinda's Legacy

Muse

Why the Army should vote for Sarath Fonseka

Muse

Where My Vote Goes

Muse

Sarath Fonseka, the truth, and shooting the messenger

Rant

And the manipulation begins..

Rant

Booster Blitz Powder test

Rave

Blogs on the beach

Muse

One step forward, two steps back

Muse

Where the LTTE went wrong

Muse

Killing Rajiv Gandhi

Not quitting while they were ahead

Killing Lakshman Kadirgamar

Helping The Beast win

I want YOU.. to spy for the Government

Rant

Life, Love, and Hookers

Muse

My PSP Saga

Muse

Mahinda: Bandaranaike For A New Generation

Muse

Corpse Hunting

Muse

Oh the twitteration

Muse

Free Hugs

Muse

Where have all the winkles gone?

Muse

The laptop saga

Muse

Acceptance, or Doing Nothing

Muse

I am.. You are.. He is..

Muse

ABBA goes metal..

Rave

Not a Sri Lankan