Man is a Social ANIMAL

Some nutty philosopher of yore, in a constipated moment of madness, famously declared, “Man is a social animal!” and went on to be profusely quoted, misquoted and over-quoted across all literary texts that cater to the young pre-teen student. The nutty philosopher did try to make amends by claiming that the focus of the sentence was on the word ‘social’ but the damage had been done and feminist groups of the ancient world pounced upon the last word of the now infamous quote and proceeded to poison the minds of all women to come.

“All you guys are animals”, declared a friend of mine making it the millionth time that her sex had conveyed such sentiments to ours.

To lend the statement some perspective, she was had visited my heavenly abode once and was mapping it to a pig sty when her husband intervened and emoted he also lived like me till she came and spoiled it all for good. She had hence concluded that half the human race had missed out on the process of evolution at some point of time and was very, very animal to this day.

“What animal?” I asked just to give it a humorous touch her judgment.
“YOU?! You’re a pig!”

We broke off from the discussion on a pronounced resignatory note. This pig thing from womankind was getting all of mankind down by now... and thinking I am leading from front...its just not Kind.

I decided to get alternate opinions on this.

I asked another woman who always seemed to have something to say about men and never a nice word at that.

“You guys are dogs! Pigs would be too cute and cuddly a way of describing you. You all are just bloody dogs!”

I wasn’t convinced and I ended up thinking loudly“Dogs, eh? I’ll take that as a bitch’s perspective!”
“Excuse me?” she didn’t like hearing my inner voice.

I can still see, which is testimony to my ability to make a timely escape if the situation so demands. I decided I’d talk to someone older and more mature. A friend of mine happily married and well into her late thirties seemed to be the ideal candidate.

“Men? I can only talk of my husband. He’s my world, you know!” she said, all doting.

I remarked that while it would not be the most representative of samples nor would she be the most unbiased of respondents, we would have to do with it for the time being.

“Animal? He’s a boar at times!” she said and chuckled.

“That’s like a pig but wilder...a hog you mean?” I asked, taking notes.

“Oh no! I meant he can be boring. You know… bore, boar! You get the connection?” She chuckled again. “Anyway, he’s a deer, my dear husband is!” she said and started laughing again.

Her phonetic puns were bringing me down.

“Ah! So I think you mean he’s horny!” I concluded, still studiously taking notes.

She seemed to be in a hurry and didn’t let me finish the rest of the lemonade she had offered as she ushered me out of the house.

The market research has proved non-conclusive though a statistically high percentage of the population claim that all men save their fathers and brothers are animals which gives a “frame of reference” angle to the whole problem and hence needs a Darwinian Einstein with some Feminist experience to solve it. One has also decided on discontinuing the research lest such probing questions lead to the “social” bit itself getting removed from that infamous quotation.

SOCKing Disaster

Two is company, they say. What beats me is the consistency with which this universal law fails to apply to my bloody sock collection... One wash and all those pairs become sad and lonely singles... I have realized of late that despite my efforts towards collecting books on literature, philosophy, fiction, biography my single sock collection beats all these collections put together.

My career as a Business Analyst has left me heavily disoriented with the whole concept of collecting single socks. Single socks, unlike paintings, stamps and Madonna’s used toothbrushes, are non-appreciating assets and are hence of no investment value.

It’s odd, I must confess, but the only theory that lends any semblance of logic to the whole phenomenon is that of a disconcertingly fetid fascination for single socks on the part of my maidcumlocalguardiancumsaviour all rolled into one. The only other theory that lends the entire process any credulity is the one about her dating a one-legged pirate.

I shifted to a washing machine. It was a bloody overkill with the maid already washing at an inflated EMI but anything for keeping the happy socks from getting separated.

No change. What was worse was that I’d see them go in together, all happy and paired and out they’d come in singles. No two of the same couple would ever disappear together nor would a pair ever be left untouched.

I tried discussing the problem with a few friends, all veterans in the field of socks with an average of 25+ years of experience wearing them and 5-6years in washing them.

“Your washing machine is possessed by a sock whore,” quipped one of them who’d is an ace in finding porn sites online. You got to find a cheapster which wont catch your sock whore fantasy...

That sounded nearly as probable as the pirate theory on my maid.

“Man, that must really sock!” said a Bongali Brothor friend of mine, “Well, life itself socks!”

I gave him one of those stares which make you want to shut up.

Over the next few days, I was bombarded with theories ranging from the feminist one on the uprising of the sock community to lead an independent single-sock life to the stag-minded one on the conspiracy of single socks to “de-pair” subsequent couples.

The sock community still frowns on the very idea of a widow remarriage since all socks come in happy bright couples praying against the inevitable separation every time they’re sent to the cleaners but spend their post-washing life sulking in a clothes basket waiting for the day their owner wears trousers long enough to afford no glimpse of sock.

One of my roommates at college had also discovered much to his chagrin, that the probability of a pair of socks getting “de-paired” was inversely proportional to one’s personal dislike of the pair. Hence, the Reeboks always disappeared with the first wash while the ones bought off the footpath would stay on for multiple washes developing enough holes to join the Ozone Layer brotherhood.

It’s been a year now and I haven’t really come around to the bottom of the mystery, though the sock-whore theory does give me the chills every now and then when I see antique hole infested socks bought from footpath enjoying a happy married life.

Barack Hussein Obama - Things going right

George bush has fucked up so bad he bloody made it hard for a white man to run for president... People are so done with Bush Plague that they are shouting give us a Black Man or a White Woman or Hindu or Buddhist anything but another white man... this fucked up till the roof!!!...

Who we have running for presidentship John McCain... I don’t know about his policies but what I know is good enough... he is bloody 72 yr old... 72 years old!!! He was bloody very old 10 years back... He was there when they still used to smuggle slaves from Africa... you don’t want a American president... the most powerful man on this planet with a “Bucket List” So old got his nurse running from Vice President.... Americans would be stupid to make him a president and decide their future when he aint gonna be there... He is OLD accept it... and when you die at 72 yrs what ever the reason you die of natural causes...Even if you are hit by a truck its natural cause... because if you were younger you would have moved out of the way.... With McCain its the same old story they are saying since the time America understood war...He is a war hero...He is a war veteran...McCain is a war hero that got captured...Well we have lot who get captured and we don’t want them to come back and become presidents....

And who is he running against Barack Hussain Obama!!!! A Mighty Black man with a Mighty Black name... that’s the most a name could be black in America its like a name next to kbenau Mgutubu or Ouzbe Oduemebe...I mean if it was John or Peter you will still have a doubt of another crazy Texan riding his shit to glory but Barack Obama when you hear that name for the first time you expect a brother warrior in leopard skin holding a spear with a foot on his hunted Lion!!!

Barack Obama... So young so good looking smart calm composed sophisticated... at times you think Barack himself doesn’t realize he is a black candidate for presidency... like he thinks he can win this playing fair!!!

Everyone he knows is being monitored by the CIA to find something anything to make our brother lose... If you know Barack Obama I tell you they are tapping your phones right now...Well they are tapping mine#$@#@%#@%#@$ ....and that’s where McCain has the advantage because all the people he knew died during World war 2....

This whole election they are trying hard like never before to paint it as racial as it can get... How many white people voted for Barack... How many White working people voted for Barack how many white woman voted for Barack... now if you ask a white person he will come with something oh Barrack understand the issues... read his manifesto... his policies... His agenda... his portfolio... now when a black brother votes for him...
Oh well he is Black and he is Black...I guess that’s why...

But for time lets get back to the start again I guess secondary who wins McCain wins or Barrack wins... no matter who wins because Bush is still in charge... and no body gives less of a fuck than George Bush... you think you don’t give a fuck ... you are wrong its Bush who don’t give fuck.... If you were hanging with one hand to a cliff going to fall to your death and Bush is at the top of the cliff and all you need is a fuck to save your life and Bush has a pocket full of fucks...He wont give a Fuck... Good Riddance... that’s what it is

Barack HUSSAIN Obama....Imran HOSSAIN Ashraf prayers goes to him... “May he be the First Black Guy in White House”