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Tag Archives: bad for your ego

For Want of Whiplash

I don’t care what anybody says, but I love Willow Smith’s Whip My Hair. And that’s a good thing because I can’t get it out of my freakin’ head.

But look, it’s age-appropriate and it’s fun and it’s silly and it makes me vaguely wish I was still a kid – and hardly anything makes me want to be a kid again because let’s face it, being a kid sucks. But if I got to whip my hair back and forth and just shake ‘em off, shake ‘em off, shake ‘em off, shake ‘em off, maybe it won’t be so bad.

I don’t know why public opinion is so harsh against the Smiths for letting their kids act. Will Smith was a child star too and he didn’t invent the whole famous-parents-introduce-spawn-to-family-business gig. In fact, if we must have the children of famous people foisted on us, I wish more of them would be like the Smith siblings, Jaden and Willow, who have a real personality.

Look at Willow’s red-carpet outfits (thanks for alerting me to those, Beth!)! I think the Fanning sisters, Dakota and Elle, do a good job at princessy-appropriate, as does Abigail Breslin – but it’s great to see a kid really play dress up. So her parents have the money to make it couture rather than family hand-me-downs discovered in the attic and she does it on red carpets – that’s the way it is. She didn’t go rob it from some other kid.

 
3 Comments

Posted by on November 26, 2010 in Celebrity, Entertainment, Music, Video

 

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Yup, They’re Married

What do Bollywood stars do when they go abroad?
Duh. They shop.

What do married Bollywood stars do when they go abroad?
Double duh! They shop together, of course!

Ta-da! Meet Aishwarya Rai, currently beloved of robots, and her husband Abhishek Bachchan, fortuitously the patron saint of robots in films. As soon as I saw these pics, I wondered how come I hadn’t seen or heard anything about their little Roman holiday until now – and then I realized that this is no longer 2007 and nobody cares. Oh well. Let us pretend!

The Glamorous Life of India’s First Couple (with-a-Portmanteau-Name)

ABHI: I don’t understand. What are these short, fat, ugly things? Are they edible?
ASH: Ha-ha, of course not! They’re people – common, little people. Eating them would mess up our organic diet.

ABHI: Astonishing! They’re everywhere. Walking upright.
ASH: Stop staring at them, you moron. They‘re supposed to stare at us!

ABHI: You know, it’s not cool for you to talk to me like that!
ASH: Yeah? Who’s gonna stop me? You and your baby pink shirt, flaming orange watch and that murse you clutch like a blankie? I don’t think so.

ABHI: When you talk like that you sound exactly like your ‘roid rage-y ex.
ASH: Yes, well, this scene was a lot more fun and interesting when Sanjay Leela Bhansali was directing and Ajay Devgan was in it.
ABHI: Huh?
ASH: Just wanted to throw that out there. Hey, do you have a white suit? I just remembered some fanfic we might want to try out.

[via]

 
28 Comments

Posted by on September 21, 2010 in Celebrity, Fiction, News

 

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The Shame of Young Adults


Video NSFW

Auntie: What are you reading?
Child Amrita: Gone with the Wind. Have you read it?
Auntie: What?!
Child Amrita: I don’t really understand all of it but I think it’s great! The drama is out of this world! I think I’m addicted to good trash for life now. In fact, I’m gonna get the movie now and watch it.
Auntie: Stop it immediately or you will lose your childish innocence too soon!
Child Amrita: *grumble* When I grow up, nobody’s gonna tell me what I can read or not.

Teacher: What are you reading?
Tween Amrita: The Giant Book of Murder. It’s great.
Teacher: What?!
Tween Amrita: Look, it has sections devoted to axe murderers, serial killers and poisoners. I’m totally going to mine this for information that I will cunningly introduce into my English school essays to blow my competition out of the water!
Teacher: Stop it immediately! Or you will grow up into a psychopath.
Tween Amrita: *grumble* When I grow up, nobody will tell me what I can read or not!

Friend: What are you reading?
Teen Amrita: The Wheel of Time. It’s great!
Friend: What?!
Teen Amrita: Yeah, I’m really into fantasy fiction! It’s like science fiction but better! There’s parallel universes and alternate realities and magic and strange creatures and -
Friend: Stop!
Teen Amrita: Why?
Friend: I dunno. It sounds stupid and I’ve never read any. Here, read Chicken Soup like everybody else.
Teen Amrita: *grumble* When I grow up, nobody’s gonna tell me what I can read or not.

Internet: What are you reading?
Present Day Amrita: Young Adult fiction. It’s great!
Internet: What?!
Present Day Amrita: Yeah, I was too busy reading regular adult stuff when I was kid but now I find that there’s a lot of YA fiction out there that’s really good. So now I’m catching up.
Internet: Stop! Or at least have some shame! You’re reading stuff meant for children.
Present Day Amrita: *grumble* When I grow up…

I didn’t even know I was supposed to feel inferior about it. Should I cover my copy of Mockingjay with brown paper the way some women who read sexy romances on the subway do? What about graphic novels? Are those cool? Or is everybody sneering at me for choosing to read a comic like a little baby?

If only I read less and monitored the reactions of random strangers to my choice of reading material more, I bet I’d have the answers to all these pressing questions.

 
23 Comments

Posted by on September 2, 2010 in Books, Personal

 

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Peeping Through My Fingers at Peepli Live

Peeping Through My Fingers at <i>Peepli Live</i>

Written and directed by Anusha Rizvi, Aamir Khan Productions’ Peepli Live is about as funny as a heart attack.

Farmer Natha (Omkar Das) is the very picture of the word gormless. He’s bullied by his elder brother, the marginally more cunning Budhia (Raghubir Yadav) before whom he regresses into a state of infantile uncertainty; pegged as a twerp by his mother (Farrukh Jaffar) whose selfish refusal to die when she gets sick in her old age leads the brothers deeper into poverty and debt; and harassed by his wife Dhaniya (Shalini Vatsa) whose native shrewishness is only exacerbated by a pretty good recognition of her husband’s lackluster character.

It is easy to laugh at Natha’s stoic bovinity as he shuffles along behind his brother, trying to make sense of his life. If his hapless form makes an easy target for his wife’s taunts, his mother’s deprecations and his brother’s manipulation, it is no less convenient a target for the blows of the pissed-off local politician’s goons, a young reporter’s ambitions or our own derision. But it’s not quite so funny when you realize that those dazed eyes that peer out underneath that tangle of dirty hair and facial scruff no longer dream of anything but escape.

One particular day, when death is all anybody can talk about, a few careless words from an uncaring overlord, an equally carefully engineered conversation with his brother and a momentary impulse to do something, sets him on the path to what could be the ultimate escape: death.

A chance meeting with Rakesh (Nowaz), a young man who also wishes to do something – and suddenly Natha is an unlikely national headline in an election year. Everybody wants to know if he’s going to kill himself for the compensation money or not; if yes, then when; if not, then how come. Even as his unhappy family is imprisoned in their home, the area around his miserable hut turns into a fairground as the media, politicians and the locals turn his possible suicide into a thriving mini-economy where everything but reality has value.

Like any other movie, Peepli Live works best when it forgets that it has Important Things to say and show. The climax in particular with the big boom that kills real journalism was unworthy of a movie that gave us an exquisite scene in which the Agriculture Secretary daintily drinks the finest Darjeeling tea while passing the buck on poor farmers killing themselves on his watch or the hilarious scene in which Natha receives a “Lal Bahadur” and is sternly informed that he can no longer kill himself because the long dead Prime Minister has come to his rescue… even if his largesse has absolutely no bearing on Natha’s problems.

The news bits are particularly plastic. Cable news in India is so incredibly fevered, trivial, kiss ass, shrill and just terrible overall that a partially deaf blind man could see it – as the actors self-consciously attempt to parody something that is already a parody of real news, the cardboard scene collapses flat on its face. And rightly so.

The one standout of the whole news section is the vainglorious Deepak, star reporter for a Hindi channel and an unparalleled master of bull (and other species’) shit, played by Vishal Sharma with an earnest egotism that is instantly memorable. The political bits, meanwhile, are mostly ho-hum even if Naseeruddin Shah periodically makes an appearance to spray silky venom and a bureaucrat takes you on a brief yet entertaining tour of red tape in our republic.

In stark contrast are the scenes of the village. Perhaps somebody who has actually lived in a rural area might have a different opinion, but to this city brat Peepli Live came alive in the dying fields of Peepli.

“What is the answer to farmers committing suicide?” asks the shiny reporter.
“Industrialization!” replies the Agricultural Minister.

Peepli Live is funny but I’ll laugh the day I can eat a steel curry with iron rice.

 
3 Comments

Posted by on August 24, 2010 in Entertainment, Movies, Review, Video

 

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Rare Rat

Sammy Davis Jr. was always my favorite of member of the Rat Pack – Frank Sinatra was way too capo di tutti capi-ish, Dean Martin’s good-humored alcoholic act makes me impatient, Peter Lawford creeps me out, and Joey Bishop… I’ll tell you what I think of him as soon as I remember who that is, poor man.

Sammy Davis, however, is my idea of an icon.

But one thing they all really did get right was style. Everything the original Ocean’s 11 lacked in terms of cinema, it almost made up with its stars. Here are some previously unpublished photographs from that era, courtesy Life. I do not understand why they were never published because the four of them featured here look way more yumsicle than I have previously seen them pictured.

If you had to click over to just one site today, make it this one.

[via ONTD]

 
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Posted by on August 13, 2010 in Celebrity, Entertainment, Life

 

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Future Overlord

Fantasy is not fiction. It’s life in India.

After Phase I in which loads of clever kids went to the original IITs and grew up to become New India’s success stories, came Phase II in which loads of parents programmed their kids at special indoctrination camps tuition classes to become the New Indian’s successful employees. And now we’re entering Phase III where parents are building customized children to train the ever increasing vast blob of Phase II applicants.

Rejoice, parents of substandard children! Manipulating a fetus is no longer something restricted to villains in science fiction novels and Hitler. My favoritest tabloid in everty ever brings joyful tidings:

Prof Tulsi Narayan Prasad, an advocate at the Supreme Court and a serious practitioner of astro-genetics, had to fight the world around him when he proposed that the sex of a to-be-born child could be manipulated.
[...]
“It’s a science called eugenics,” Tulsi Prasad said, explaining the way his genius child was conceived. “By employing it, we can ensure that the child achieves the desired traits. As I knew what we wanted, we followed the prescription for a genius mind…I and my wife had to plan everything in the process of having the child, right from our diet to our mood to the sex itself.”

Oooo-kay. A little reminiscent of the sex scene from Rosemary’s Baby, perhaps, but genius and deals with the Devil both demand a certain amount of sacrifice.

It’s all worth it in the end:

Hailed as a child prodigy, he finished high school when he was just nine, B.Sc by the time he was 10 and M.Sc before he turned 12. “It wasn’t surprising at all as my parents had told me that I was programmed before birth to be genius. I knew I was different when I discovered that I was more fascinated by physics while the others my age were into sports and games,” he said.
[...]
“But now I have learnt the art of pretending to be ‘normal’,” he added. “I finished reading A Brief History of Time (by Stephen Hawking) when I was six. I loved it even though I didn’t understand everything there,” he said, giving glimpses of what it was like to grow up as a programmed child.

I hope all those people freaked out by Indians’ Hitler obsession are reading this. :mrgreen: Astro-Eugenics is the way real Aryans do it, baby.

PS: Hey buddy, when the revolution comes, just remember it was all fun and games! Seriously. Please don’t eat me or preserve me in a slime pod or whatever it is that advanced specimens do. Thanks!

 
7 Comments

Posted by on July 29, 2010 in Life, News

 

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Minus the Stripper Heels…

Okay, now she’s just fucking with us.

 
13 Comments

Posted by on July 23, 2010 in Celebrity, Entertainment

 

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Gah! The Pretty!

I can’t remember what I had scheduled for today because ever since a kind reader sent me these pics, they’re all I’ve been staring at.

You know, if I were even a fraction as beautiful as this woman, I would never pose for photographs and insist on candids like these. It’s not just that she has no bad angles – it’s the sheer vibrancy of her. Look at her! This is a woman who’d make you look up just by walking into a room even if she’d never made a movie in her life.

And, I’m sorry, I have a great deal of love for Mads Dixit but all that comparing business is nonsense and these pictures should tell you why. La Dixit is a fine, fine woman, but Madhubala isn’t just in a class by herself, she travels private jet.

Sigh. I have absolutely no thoughtful comment to make other than “OMG! GORGEOUS!” but wanted to share. Thanks, Reader! You know who you are! And you’re awesome!

Update: Since many of you asked for the full set, here it is. I have no idea who took these or where but it appears to be somebody’s apartment, most probably hers given her comfortable vibe, and she’s walking up the stairs to the terrace where she blows the camera a kiss. Enjoy!

 
30 Comments

Posted by on July 6, 2010 in Celebrity

 

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Coz One Bout of Public Humiliation Wasn’t Enuff

Have you ever found yourself in a crowd of people thoroughly annoyed by one single rotten apple who does her oblivious best to ruin the day for everybody around her… and realized that said wormfood was you?

Sigh. I swear I didn’t mean it.

So there I am, watching I Hate Luv Storys in a packed house and my body up and decides that this is an excellent time to get rid of the five tons of phlegm it has apparently been hoarding for days. Does it leak out of my nose like all well-mannered mucus ought to? NO!

My mucus believes in a dramatic entrance. It chooses to erupt from my body in a series of violent sneezes that went on – I kid you not! – for a solid half hour at three minute intervals. At first, I thought I could employ the discreet and possibly medically-frowned-upon tactic of all people struck by inconvenient sneezes: pinch my nose and whuffle it.

[Yes, I said "whuffle". The next time you work up a sneeze, pinch your nose and force it to die inside your body instead of whistling out your nasal cavity. That sound you hear of capillaries bursting is called a whuffle. And if you want to prove me wrong, you come up with a term for it, smartass.]

I whuffled the first one and it hurt. My nose does not approve of whuffling. It believes in freedom of expression. I whuffled the second time with greater care and ended up with nosey on my fingers. Yech. I fished out a paper towel, which is what I use in lieu of handkerchiefs like all intelligent people who prefer to throw away any bits of material smeared with their bodily emissions rather than tucking it carefully back in their pocket to be laundered lovingly at home. When the next sneeze came hurtling out my nose, I caught it in the quilted, quadruple-strength confines of my paper towel.

HONK! said my nose. HONK! HONK!

Now, it’s true that I turn into a kindergartner when confronted by mucus but I was never the kind of kid who attempted an on-the-spot PhD on her goobers or ate them or anything bleurgh like that. But I too am a human being and there is nothing quite like clearing your blocked nasal passages of phlegm. Clear your throat, blow your nose, pick it clean – it’s like it massages some special nerve center in your brain and whispers, “There, there. It’s going to be all right now.” You breathe in, your lungs expand, nothing gargles inside your skull, you’re not swallowing gobs of matter with your spit – and whaddya know? It really is all right now! I perked up.

And that’s when the sneezing fit began. One sneeze, two sneeze, three sneeze, four. A sneeze there, a sneeze here, a sneeze-sneeze everywhere! Skeevy sneeze, steezy sneeze, snotty sneeze, snooty sneeze. Snooze a sneeze! Wheeze!

Sorry. Anyway…

My brain, being all jostled about, decided that this spasm couldn’t possibly last and what’s a few sneezes in a theater resounding with Bollywood cheer? Especially when muffled by my trusty industrial strength paper towel? I’d cleaned entire counters with a single sheet of these bad boys, so what was a sneeze or one million? So I crunched my abdominal muscles, crossed my legs, closed my eyes and hunkered down for the violence to end. A staccato series of sneezes later, I opened my eyes.

There, in my hand, I clutched the pitifully wadded remains of my damp and steadily disintegrating paper towel. FALSE ADVERTISING! Boooo! (How quickly I turn.)

Gingerly, I felt my nose. I couldn’t be sure without a torch to shine up my nasal cavity and a mirror to better study it, but it felt like I was missing skin. I’d definitely lost a few hairs by the root in the late struggle. Ow. I briefly contemplated opening up the solid mass of paper and mucus that I held to further investigate but as I mentioned earlier – I’m really not that kind of kindergartner.

However. It was really kind of dark in that theater. Maybe I could discreetly insert the tip of one finger to check the state of affairs in my nose? I cast a furtive look around to see if it was light enough for anyone to make out what I was up to.

… and met the eyes of everybody three rows deep to the front and back of my seat. It was like one of those scenes from Children of the Corn where individual parents turn around from their everyday tasks to be confronted by the phalanx of creepy kids except in this case I was the creepy kid and everyone staring at me was desi, grown up, and most definitely not expressionless. Thankfully, another significant difference was that nobody attacked me with a sickle. My people are so polite.

I quietly offered up a mumbled “sorry” to the universe rather than the uncle in front whose neck I’d probably sprayed with a few billion of my germs and did what I ought to have done 30 minutes earlier: skedaddled to the restroom to wash my puffy face, my germy hands and my poor tender nose. Then I bought myself a hot cup of tea to nurse and sidled back inside.

Coz I’m thickskinned like that.

 
6 Comments

Posted by on July 3, 2010 in Life, Personal

 

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Oh Boy

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Clearly, I’ve been wasting my time all these years by looking over women’s couture collections. The real action very obviously lies in menswear.

First up at the recently concluded Milan Fashion Week, for example, is what Calvin Klein thinks the well-dressed man will wear next year. Don’t worry if you don’t have that kind of definition in the midriff area. You can air your paunch.

Then there’s the Emporio Armani collection. What can I say but woo-hoo? Their head designer obviously went to a lot of exciting parties this year. You gotta respect a man who dreams up a show based on Nazis in leggings and S&M.

Meanwhile Dolce and Gabbana just randomly threw in a few men in their skivvies. As did Bottega Veneta. I honestly had no idea they showcased speedos on runways. I mean – it’s a speedo! How far can you tweak it? Oh wait…

And then there were a bunch of other folks, including Versace with an androgynous-but-not-in-a-good-way lineup of models who all looked anorexic. Donatella should have called up Vivienne Westwood for tips.

In related news, I’m still a philistine but a happy one today!

 
10 Comments

Posted by on June 22, 2010 in Celebrity, Entertainment, News

 

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