Threads Tangled untangled Composite run through Ravel, Unravel Is there a link? Weave a design And the thread itself not know Where in the picture Does it lie.
Now that you are here
( If you think this is contradictory, wrong, funny, or anything, you may protest here!!!!!)
Saturday
The Ballad of the Higgs Boson.
Friday
M F Hussain dies and other observations
But the former's book was banned in our land, the second country to do so. While India's Picasso has died in exile. Both exiled for "offending" the sensibilities of people too ignorant to understand their work. Now, while Rushdie may yet earn his way back into being another Indian-doing-great-things maybe by winning the Nobel- the Booker of Bookers is obviously not enough, Hussain unfortunately has passed on.
Sunday
Lesson 4: So Feminism did not ever do anything for you?
And you never had any problems ascending the corporate ladder at the workplace despite being a woman. Because you had a really good maid and excellent support in the shape of your mother, mother-in-law to substitute for day care. And it is people's bad luck if they do not have it. And maternity leave is for losers- because men never get medical leave for sickness- medical leave that becomes half pay and then without pay depending on how long they are away from work. After all women must choose between family and work- just like men do- what is that? Men don't, because more often than not they have someone managing their homes for them. I guess there is equality, one gender gets more of it.
Tuesday
On Blogging
Friday
Existential Crisis
Sunday
Monday
E-Stalker
Do you follow me on twitter
Hanging on every 140 expression
Of some whimsy of mine?
Do you look at my status on gchat and wonder
Why I show busy but never reply?
I have been looking through
Your pictures on facebook
Where we are friends
Following your status updates
Reading your daily blogs
On your mundane daily life
Made fascinating by your willingness to lay bare
Before a stranger
The intricacies of your real relationships.
Friday
The muse as a Structural Equation
I miss the old days
The old innocent days
Life uncomplicated
Unsullied by complex modernity
Life innocent
Of MS Excel
Or other MS monstrosities
Word 2003 and every other year
Every circa AD.
But even MS- initiation
Did not fully sully
The Innocence
As fully
As Statistical Software packages did
All those endins SS( SPSS and NCSS)
( was it a sign I wonder?)
When one went hunting for Rsquares
And significances
(usually with a magnifying glass)
Heck, even that nostalgia seems for really bygone days
Even the Un-LISREL’d days
Were better
I was happy
Not knowing those Beta and Gamma Matrices
Those Phis and Psis Ksis and Etas
Greek would have been simpler
In the classical
Combined with software
And models
Structural and Measurement
I might
Just be another casualty
Of a F_A_T_A_L_E_R_R_O_R.
Wednesday
55er: Unlikely Libbers
The Princesses were on strike. The Brothers Grimm tried everything. Promising more happily ever afters, threatening with wicked witches and dragons. Even high-handedly - transforming frogs into beautiful women to provide them competition.
The Princesses just refused to go back to their tales.
They had such unreasonable demands
“We want to be doing the rescuing.”
Thursday
WTF1
The Principal
DGPC College
Kanpur
Dear Madam
I send this letter to you as a concerned woman citizen of India. I recently discovered that your institution instituted a policy banning women students from wearing of jeans and high heels, “to prevent eve teasing” the logic goes. I find it very ironic that an institute that celebrates “enlightened feminism” ( this is from your website http://www.dayanandgirlspgcollege.org/principal.htm) should engage in a classic “Blame the Victim” game. Women do not ever “ask for it”. No matter what they wear or do. Harassment is a crime- with the harasser not the victim being the perpetrator. And an education institution that tries to perpetuate the myth that in the case of sexual harassment it may be the victim’s fault, is not only failing in its duty to its students but to society as a whole. You mention developing “confident women” in your website. It is a noble goal. But restricting women to dress in a particular manner is not going to help them become confident, or even equal. Indian law recognizes women as having the same rights as men. Why, then do you want to abrogate that right and allow anti-social elements the freedom to use their victims as an excuse for the crime. Your policy saddens me as a woman, as an Indian and as a human being. It makes me feel sorry for my sisters who have to follow these almost Talibanical dress codes, to struggle hard just so that they can get an education and become equal contributing citizens of our country. We have long way to go as a nation to achieve perfect equality between the sexes, but policies like your own, only firmly kick us further back in the past. Don’t teach your girls that it is their fault if they are harassed. Don’t give the criminals who harass them free run, don’t let these anti-social elements terrorize our streets. Teach your girls to take a stand, to become the “enlightened feminists” you want them to. I appeal to you as a woman, a citizen and a fellow law abiding human being.
Regards
Alankrita Pandey"
The other colleges are ( still looking for contact emails and things)
Acharya Narendra Deo College,
Sen Balika College
Johari Devi Degree College.
Intergallactic Poetry Appreciation
Vogon poetry is not the worst in the Universe. But the Vogons are bad poets. Perhaps the worst ones in the universe. Consider the portion
"dr fllthprtyulipa
Rtthy mnsprksakal"
There is nothing wrong with it.
However, combined with
"Rhtt ghlyippnss
Gerpillioustarte heliaster heliaster"
it becomes catastrophic. Indeed so bad that one begins to re-read it to see if it is really as horrible as on the first reading.
Normally I do not read poetry. Even the pieces that I criticize. I don't not read it, but hurriedly glance through it. Picking on words and pieces and sort of connecting the ideas. If the picture that emerges seems to make sense, I write out my criticism or words of appreciation. And conserve my "will read in detail and consider every portion" for prose- mostly newspaper articles and newsflashes about the stock market. I invested a lot of Arcaturan Artemii in the NYSE and lost a fortune- but then Arcaturas was destroyed and what would I do with it anyhow.
Back to poetry, you can see how bad poetry can be a drag. It wastes time. Time I can spend more constructively doing other things. Bad poetry forces me to read it- analyze it and get disturbed by it.
Good poetry is easy. Raetians are decent poets. Or as good as poets can be. With three word poems- they hardly waste intellectual space. And are very content with "very nice" as a criticism. Indeed they are content with no comments at all. Creatures of a few but well-chosen words indeed.
Vogons, on the contrary want you to read their poetry. And criticize it. It is usually appalling, so the criticism becomes forced- every other species is forced to go through and for sanity's sake make noises about it. And the noises follow. Like the case quoted above. How can you not be compelled to say that it is all wrong.
"heliaster heliaster" indeed
When actually "fllthprtyulipa
Rtthy" cannot be "heliaster". It needs "beliramna seliarmna" or the entire inteneded meaning is lost. And how does one know intended meaning? Simply because the Vogon poet has expressed it clearly, loudly and several times- in prose at the beginning of, in the middle of and at the end of each and every poem.
They are bad poets. Very bad ones. But they get their audience. Of course one dies in throes of supra-gallactic seizures and stomach cirrhosis (species that have stomachs) but one is an audience- unwilling or otherwise.
Edited to Add: this has been written by an Alien Alter Ego Intellikins Alienofski. A little green creature, this one often writes about things about the universe etc. Should have clarified earlier, but Intellikins has no copyright or copyleft issues.
Wednesday
A Dark Tale- or the Perils of writing Poetry
It was a dark day in early April. Actually it was not so dark. And I am not sure it was in April-early or late- either. But that does not matter. This is a dark tale of soul destroying despair and it needs all the build-up it can get. I wrote down something, something, something Dawn, then a line later rhymed it with Morn. And the beginning of the end had started. The end of sanity, happiness, and a good credit score. But I did not know. How could I? I was busy writing poetry. Rhyming Way with May, Away and Gay(this was in more closeted times).
Parenting is an onerous responsibility. I know it now. But I do not really blame my poor non-rhyming parents. They could have stopped me. They did not. Too much of black coffee, astrophysics and a liking for Faiz does that to you. You miss out on responsibilities to Progeny. Responsibilities to dash the paper and pen away from the little fingers at the first sign of Night being rhymed with Might, before it plunges everyone into black ruin. Spare the iambic pentameter spoil the child.
But those were more innocent times. One had to wend ones weary way through the world unchecked and unencumbered. So I rhymed through school magazines. And did not seem to find much adult guidance regarding the horrors I was unleashing. I guess a large student to teacher ratio denies these simple life lessons to one. As do distractions in the shape of education. But what use is a degree- even a third or fourth one, if it does not reveal to you what an insufferable bore you are- always searching for the right meter.
There were signs. There always are. The neighbors dog howled incessantly every time I tried to write verse- even free verse. But I ignored it- it could be that the howls were not very specific- he did tend to howl at children- big and small, adults, cats, kites, mice, his master, the moon and on every day beginning with a T. But his howl at my poems had a darker more were-wolfish tinge. Of course I did not hear it then. I was too busy looking at sonnet schemas. The tom-cat at home hurled hairballs and chewed up poems- but I paid no attention to the feline. It ran away eventually. Ostensibly to meet other cats. But that was just an excuse. By the time I discovered sestinas, even hamsters were avoiding me. And the one tiger I met in a reserve got himself captured by poachers a little while later.
In my early twenties I discovered haikus and was seized by a dull despair. I had begun to weary of this addiction to verse- bound or free. I plunged myself into work but the lure of the villanelle (among other things) proved too strong. I wrote about emotions and passions and love and the other things that go with it.
Cataclysmic events took place in the world- there were tornados and earthquakes and terror attacks. It was as if the elements were trying to warn me. But I paid no heed. My boss left his job. As did his secretary. "More money "they whispered, but in my heart I knew it was my poems. Sort of chastened I moved to higher education. But the plaque followed. And before I knew it I was trying to massacre the Greek myths in meter.
Then the world financial system collapsed. Bear Sterns fell, then AIG and the big banks needed to beg money to keep them afloat. But it was only when Iceland went bankrupt that I began to realize the extent of my addiction. The next time the urge came on to obfuscate feeling, I desisted. I went for a long walk- then a run and wandered through a couple of Museums of Natural History. I did this for a week. Of course I ended up in Waco and had to take a Greyhound bus back to Arlington, but when I last checked the Dow is climbing again.
Tuesday
Heisenberg’s Uncertainty
You cannot know
Momentum and position
At the same time
Though the product of the two
Is less than half the constant of Planck.
This is all about a quantum
Which being a particle is also a wave
Heisenberg the uncertainty postulated
For certain with a Fourier analysis.
Saturday
Wisdom
Earlier I used to engage in discussions, becoming rants, on the dangers of letting things go out of hand. For miscellaneous items of clothing, towels and such like. In the hope that I to would learn to be organized. I have since learned the joys of having separate closets- and separate restrooms. And my closet is on an average tidier and better organized- (by about a 1/100, but hey there is a significant p there somewhere….).
Life on the whole has mostly been a breeze. I mean there is a lot to be said about someone willing to type out 100s of references of horrible papers in ASQ and such like for my school work. Also if the same someone has spent more time circling my department, than returning from Dallas (on I-35). Of course this is the same someone with whom I have warred while learning how to drive. Argued, screamed, thrown fits (as much as it is possible while concentrating on Stop Signs and one way streets). But I passed my drivers with an “Excellent job, you had a good teacher”.
But even as my eye becomes softer and I decide to go back and edit some of what I have written so far- make it little softer- talk a little about myself, I hear something on TV about how Ray Allen really helped them Celtics. In the middle of news.
How will I deal with it? Exercise. Yup. Always works And I have two plus years of being together wisdom.
“Exercise Releases endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. And Happy people DO NOT kill their husbands”.
Sunday
Lugubrious libations
Gin is grim
Rum so glum
Whisky makes tears risky
For unadulterated soul rot
A Vodka martini hits the spot.
Monday
Probability

You cannot get
Heads and tails together
When you toss a coin
Nor all numbers
In the throw of a dice
(that’s why the house always wins, y’know)
And events can either happen
Or maybe they won’t
The happening and non-happening
Both cases together a certainty.
Mutual if together, exclusive apart
Two coins ( or dice- hey it’s a subject of chance)
Mutually exclusive( you could use three or four or more)
Certainly calculate the odds of winning
Big at a race or the market
Just not guaranteeing
Whether you surely will.
Photoelectric Effect
A photon decided
A metal plate
To irradiate
An electron robbed
The energy
And escaped
Work function
To functioning work
Nobel Prize committee’ d rave
Light both a particle and a wave
Special Theory of Relativity

Where there is a will
There are relatives
A simple explanation
Of frames in relative motion
The former
Easier to understand
Saturday
Schrödinger's cat
A black cat in a dark room
Radioactive material
Death a half life away
Or maybe not
Half lives are tricky
Equally dead and equally alive
At the same time.



