This one's real deep...

Lists lists lists!
I love lists. There's something so crisp, airy and endearingly pompous about them.
Every time I attempt to cram my prancing, meandering thoughts into the segregated straight-jackets of points, I feel a sense of purpose. Like I've joined the army or something.
I'm sorry, am I coming off as surreptitiously sarcastic? Oh, don't get me wrong then. I love them lists. To-do list, book list, movie list, stationary list, checklist, blog list... they're as diverse as the insects in the Amazon (forest, not river or website obviously).
Making lists can almost be like decorating your room or garnishing a salad. So many ways to organise them! Say with me! Alphabetical! Random! Subject-wise! CHRONOLOGICAL!!
Almost sounds like a war cry doesn't it? In a way, my dears, it is.
I love how lists so conveniently cut through the crap and get right to the heart of all the tomfoolery.
For example, if you're still wondering why I bothered writing this particular post, let's seek our solution through that most noble of tools -the list.

Let's make a list of words that best bring out the essence of this deeply symbolic post:
- utter
- bloody
- rubbish

See what I mean? They're invaluable. The above list clearly indicates the following conclusions:
- the writer of this blog is an eccentric oddity
- who had a lot of useless time on her hands
- simultaneously, there was nothing good on TV

I sure do love them lists. Oh yes sir, I do.

Caught in the rye

Incredibly interesting monologue here by Will Smith from the movie, 'Six degrees of separation'.

Ever since I saw this little snippet on TV, I was pretty much twisting arms and wringing ears in a desperate attempt to try and get hold of the book, 'Catcher in the rye' by J D Salinger. I just had to read it, and now I am :)

Iron Maiden

Yay! Time for my random observation of the times that we live in. Tonight's subject, folks, is one helluva character. Read on:

So, here's a little something I learned this week. You know how all of us are forever trying to create this very cool, suave image for ourselves?

We are the shit. We don't care about nothing! We follow our own rules. We are indifferent to everything. We are mysterious. We are a world in ourselves. We are feared.

We

know

no

fear

(shifting to singular now; makes life easier) People will say nasty things behind your back even though they would never dare to in person. They will make all sorts of assumptions about you but of course they will not be able to muster the guts to question you about any of them. They will keep guessing as to who you are or more like, what is the phenomenon that is you. Most of the time, they will guess wrong.

Yeah yeah... sounds pretty darn hot but here's the catch. Once you get to this oh-so-revered position in life, you're stuck. You cannot waver, not for an instant. Once you've made people gape in awe at the sheer strength of your will, you can never again allow yourself even a moment of weakness. They won't let you. How dare you deny them the pleasure of unravelling your seemingly unchinked armour in their minds?

At the end of the day, that is how they are used to seeing you. That is how you've forced them to see you and they will never accept you in any other form ever again. You've turned yourself into a mythical unicorn my friend.

Like so much in life, it is a gift and it is a curse.
Because of course, you are now a fearsome creature. How then, can you ever show any signs of being human? You can never break, you can never have any moments of confusion. You are always that unicorn. Perhaps pedestal would be going too far, but you have definitely been placed in high heels. Show a little of your human wobbliness and the world turns into that scene from Alice in Wonderland: the pack of soldier cards rise in uproar and engulf you in their pandemonium.

You've locked yourself in an Iron Maiden, my friend. (No! Not the band for crying out loud) For those who don't know what that is check here.
You're rock solid from the outside whereas on the inside, you might be suffocating or bleeding to death for all you know.

Basically, there are times when you can be too invincible for your own good.

You better forget the very name of fear if you want to be what you have created -a robot.

Keep your fire extinguishers to yourself

Well whaddya know? I'm still here :D
I once read this article about how the number of bloggers in the world would double or quadruple over the next 10 years or sumfin like that. This article was written in the gravest of tones and with much gloomy shaking of the head I'm sure. Apparently having so many bloggers on the Net is a bigass problem since you know, global warming and terrorism have already been taken care of right? *burns a hole in her own tongue due to the acrid sarcasm*
Then of course towards the end of the article one wise soul gave his opinion on the matter. Since I don't remember his name, let's call him Mr. Snooty Pretentious Jackass. So Mr. SNJ said, "such heavy blogging traffic certainly raises some concerns about quality control on the Net. However, in a few years, the riffraff will naturally quit the blogosphere and leave behind only the blogging elite so to speak."
Well, I'm sure ol' Snoots has a point somewhere but the reason I related this whole random stuff is because despite everything, my blog somehow survives. I don't write for months and then I consider deleting the damn thing altogether but it so is that the furnce refuses to be swept out with the riffraff. So, I'm still here I guess. I still have something to say. Not quite enough time to say it but nontheless, I suppose I ain't quitting anytime soon.
So you see Mr. SNJ, my derriere is freely available for your smooching pleasure.