A Dose of Blogging Is Good for Your Health!

...: What?
Me: What what?
...: You look ... erm lost!
Me: 'Disoriented' you mean?
...: If it means 'lost', yeah. Is it a disease?
Me: Even worse; it's kind of constant dizziness.
...: Do you feel sick often then?
Me: So often....

Civilization!

Just some pictures of the atrocities in Lebanon. You can find more pictures here.

Catwalk

I am confident that the whole tradition of 'catwalk show' has been first inspired by this scene. I am two-minded, though, to decide which one is doing the job better. However, we should give more credit to the cat, I think, who is doing it so naturally, without taking his/her clothes off, and yet s/he has mesmerised so many! Even his/her arrogance is more genuine! Poor dogs!

And then this happened:

Sky in the Desert

When there is a desert, there isn't much cloud. If you haven't been to a desert in a calm night you can hardly imagine what you have missed. And when I say desert, I simply mean some really dry weather not necassirily a Sahara.

With no stretch of truth, it is immensely difficult not to be charmed by the bright and awesome desert sky. All you need to do is to lie back and let yourself be lost in the all too close festivity of REAL shining stars. In an instant you find yourself among literally gazillions of stars tantalizingly inviting you to join the party. Don't miss the chance of treating your soul with a heavenly peace and light. The Western Sky in the Europe can never provide you with such a glory. (All the picture are taken about 20 Miles south of Tehran.)

Iranian Rice: Polo

Iranian Rice is not as famous as Persian Rug or Persian Cat or even Iranian pistachio but I think it deserves a ranking of such recognition somehow. The thing is since its production only suffices Iranian consumers inside Iran, who love it to bits, it is not exported in large scale. What separates Iranian rice from other kinds, like let's say the famous Indian Tilda, is its smell.

For us Iranians who are brought up with its lovely smell it smells not only of a very yummy meal awaiting grumbling tummies, it also smells of 'home', of 'mum', of 'a hot family meal', of 'old good days'. I never forget overeating myself till I had a tummy ache and yet I did not like to leave it at that. I liked and llike raisin in my Rice a lot: 'Keshmesh Polo' it is called. In farsi, cooked rice is called 'Polo' and 'polo' always means a tasty meal for us. My other favourite is Zereshk Polo: which means Polo topped by gazillions of SWEETENED Zereshk. Then, I don't bother if there is any chicken or not. It usually comes with Chicken though. It is good to mention that Saffron is almost an indispensable companion to Iranian Polo.

God's C.V.

The state of things as they are would leave God with no chance to apply for another Godship position. I, for one, would not give him a positive reference. All aspects considered, He must be either a funmonger who enjoys all the strife, struggle, and imbalance everywhere or He must be inefficient as he cannot fix the mess he has created. I am more inclined to think that he is the former rather than the latter: just like a disinterested child at a computer game bought second hand (which comes with faulty joysticks, faulty cards, missing cables, blurred screen, etc.) I wonder from where he gets his stuff! Is there a brand-new world somewhere?

Hateful Species

Either I take things too seriously, or I am a coward, or I am paranoid or all or I don't know what! I just watched Species on BBC1. I hated it. I usually don't take to horror movies. I don't even want to try them.

I think some 20 minutes had passed when I turned the channel to watch it. I did not know it is a horror film and the title was not suggestive of such at all. Then I was curious to know what was going on. When I knew it was a horror film wrongly presented as Sci-Fi with a lot of manipulated love in it I just forced myself to watch on to see what will happen at end. It was the same American horror nonsense.

Yes, I am scared. Yes, I hate the whole idea of having monsters around. I especially hate all the femmes fatales in the world. I hate them when they are too actively predatory. I feel bad. I am already fed up with a world full of human-faced monsters, please let the horrifying monsters stay in their own den.

Hi Fellow Calculators! (No Offence meant!)

I just feel like pouring out from time to time; thus if I keep posting, which I don't suspect would happen too often, don't be surprised.

I dislike all pretend. I hate all the calculations made to make life go smoother. Not that I don't like a smooth life, I cannot do without one, yet I think honesty should replace all the cunning and tactful ways. I am not a tactless person, well possibly I am; I just don't like it to be the common code practiced day and night. Humans are now more like calculators who wouldn't say 'Hi' to you unless they have measured every ups and downs of doing so. And when they do it or choose not to do it, it does not come from the heart it comes from the calculator.

(Of course I don't mean we should act rashly and just do as we whim at the moment and discard any consideration about the consequences of what we do or we don't.)

A tale told by an idiot!

Of course life is not all sex; it is not all money either; nor is it all faith conflicts; you name it and life is not that. Life is just a waste of life-long time to decide what it is about. Not that you don't enjoy it; definitely you do, however occasionally. But then there are times you wonder why you enjoyed as you did! And that's the killer feeling! Or why you were so sad for such a trifle as that! Yet another killer feeling!

This is how Shakespeare puts it (Macbeth, Act V, Scene V)
Macbeth: ...
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.