Ramblings of a delusional dumbass

Before I begin I want to make a few things clear- 1. This is not about the quality of the movies. I am sure both Rangitaranga and Uppi-2 are amazing movies. I haven't watched either, so I am not in a position to comment about the artistic value value of the movie. 2. This is not a move to defame any language, movie, artist or your beliefs. This is purely a comment on the skewed perspective of the IMDB rating of a movie. 3. This does not question the integrity of IMDB ratings, simply because it is impossible to accurately identify the metrics IMDB uses to rate a movie. Someone who is good at math will be able to explain it better. For more information about it, see here . It is impossible to measure the success of a creative pursuit because there are no standard units that can accurately gauge the quality of art. It's like measuring the straightness of a line in a world without scales. The only measure of success in such a world would be the popularity of one particular...

(Originally written on 16 May, 2013. Reposting for archiving purposes.) She lays there exhausted Disgusted at the crazy cat Silently weeping tired of the broken sign, flashing at her face incessantly She's confused, she's deranged She hates the world, she hates herself She hates that stupid cat as well She looks around in despair for a caring shoulder to cry on I look at her from the dark corner Invisible to her Invisible to the world

Based on the death of a friend. The first death I was exposed to. I was 4 at the time And then she died, a painful death They stuffed her throat with sand and stones Ankles pulped, and stripped of silver Ear lobes snipped, like a piece of paper And then she died a painful death...

An asshole cut me off at Manyata today. That was both a. An asshole move on his part b. An extremely stupid move on his part Because let's face it. It's fucking Manyata.  Where are you gonna go when you cut me off? You're gonna be right in front of me, asshole, and I'll be giving you a death stare through your mirrors. Making uncomfortable eye contact for about half a kilometer or so. Following traffic rules is real important and everything, but this is what it got me thinking. I assumed he was an asshole as soon as he rushed his nimble Pulsar to fill the little space between my bike and the Indicab in front of me. To me, he will always be an asshole of the supreme kind, no matter what. But what if he isn't an asshole. What if he runs an NGO for blind kids. Maybe he was just on his way to donate blood for the 100th time. I don't know. If any of those were true, then I am the bigger asshole- not only because I have never done any of those, but also for...