Desperately Seeking Obama !!!

'The Truth About Obama', screamed the title.
But, that, was not what jolted me into wakefulness.

It was the, 'You'll be her night driller', in fine print, that did the trick.!!!

I rubbed my eyes in disbelief.
And, checked once more.
But, Obama stayed put, in the title field.
Without, transforming into the more appropriate Bill Clinton.

A fine way to start one's morning, you may say.

But, not, when there are, close to 100 odd of such mails in the spam box.

Now, before you ask, I was scanning my spam for legitimate mails, that may have strayed in there by chance.
A habit I cultivated, ever since, the chance perusal of the spam box, one fine day, yielded a mail from an old acquaintance, who went on, to become one of the most important people in my life.

But,today, all that I found, was a pile of cyber-trash.

Be a Better Man - For Your Meat Missile!
Be her Mighty Night Predator!
Be a Love Rhino!

Fortunately, there was no more bandying about, of, the American President's name.
Or, of any other world leaders'.

As I hastily skimmed through the page, it turned out, that, not all were about performance enhancement.

There, were, those that promised to augment one's vital statistics to wondrous proportions.
Yes, even larger than Pam Anderson!
And, her male counterpart, whoever he is.

Some, promised to, melt down the assets to nothingness.
Pretty much, like, Christopher Reeve's x-ray vision in Superman.
I specifically mention Reeve by name because, Superman, quite naturally, put in a spam appearance in an entirely different role, than as a lard buster.

There, were, suggestive invitations from seductive women.
And, handsome studs.
Some of which, even claimed to want to discover one's inner beauty, than, worship at the temple of flesh on the surface!!!
Oh yes, snigger on people.
But, going by the number, and variety of course, of spam flowing in, it appears that spamming has emerged as a serious choice of career in the modern world.
How else can anyone, and that includes perverts of every kind, have the time and resources to churn out crap in sustained manner?

The only thing that beats me, is the motive.
IS THERE, indeed, an overwhelming section of the population, so prostrated by performance and size driven anxiety attacks, that, they would resort to anything, and, everything to revive a flagging libido or organ?

Or, are the weirdos self propagating at an accelerated rate?

I really would love to know.

But, is anyone spilling the beans?
I guess not.
And, until someone does, it seems, that,the Obamas and Gordons of the world, will just have to continue with their unwitting endorsements of pills, powders, and, natural bed blazing techniques.

Hey Jack, Back Off!!!

I first heard of Jack, of the beanstalk fame, as a toddler, on my mother's knee.

Amma, you see, often, told me tales from far and wide.
Not to stamp values & principles, on my young, impressionable psyche, as one may imagine.
She did it, because, we both enjoyed it.
There were no morals to the stories, she told.
Nor, lessons to be learnt.
It was a fun 'mother-daughter' activity.
And, the most enjoyable way of getting through the hot, dusty afternoons in Dubai.

Coming back to Jack.
My baby mind was quite intrigued, by this tale of a young lad, who clambered up the beanstalk, robbed the blood-thirsty giant of his treasures, and eventually, killed him.
Giants, are, ugly, mean and stupid.
Plus, they ate humans too.
So, I thought Jack was quite justified.

I chortled with joy, and, clapped my chubby hands in glee, when amma, with a flourish, narrated, how Jack chopped the beanstalk, bringing the giant crashing down, to his death.

And, for days after, I went about, trashing imaginary beanstalks about the house.
Sometimes, it was amma's saris hung out to dry.
At other times, it was the floor lamp, or the sofa, which bore the brunt of my attacks.
I was not allowed to handle the sharp implements required for chopping, and, therefore, had to content myself with trashing!

I cannot remember, how, amma viewed my assaults on her possessions.
But, I imagine, she, probably was, all too used, to my excited role playing.
And, must have laughed it off, indulgently.

Today, I have a whole different perspective.
I am not entirely sure, if I had judged the Giant too harshly.
Or, Jack, too kindly.
For, it seems to me, that, the story, narrated Jack's perspective only.

Come to think of it, it, probably was, written by Jack himself!
Which, explains, why, the world, has never had, the opportunity of hearing, the other side of the story.

That, the Giant was huge and strong, is a given.
But, to assume, that, he was stupid and mean.
To take his Fee Fi Fo Fum, all too literally.
And, applaud Jack's thefts, and, the Giant's demise.
Well, my reactions,now, strike me, as being a wee bit extreme.

After all, Jack, did, rob the giant, of his most prized possessions.
An act, which, would have had, the most reasonable amongst us, baying for the offender's blood.
So, why fault the giant for threatening to bake his bread with Jack's bones?

I guess, personal experience, does have a way of tipping the scales to evenness.
My new found sympathies for the giant, stems from the fact, that, there seems to be an abundance of Jacks, and Janes, in the modern world.

I speak not of the petty thieves, and rogues, who lurk in the dark alleys, in search of hapless prey.
Or, those, who break into houses, to stealthily make off with treasures.

I speak of the lazy, unscrupulous vultures, of our world, who, unabashedly, claim for their own, the creations of others.
The shameless takers of the world!

Their audacity amazes me.
Especially, when they claim to be 'inspired'.
Or, maintain, that, they have merely 'borrowed', or, adapted' ideas, designs, words,whatever, without asking if they can.
When, they, deliberately, attempt, to pass off as their own, what they have shamelessly stolen.
And, especially, when they, nonchalantly, shrug aside their theft, either, as a non-issue, or, with defiant belligerence.

Perhaps, it is that, they aspire, to a few stolen moments of glory.
Perhaps, it is that, they assume, their limited intelligence, entitles them, to take what is not rightly theirs, without, as much as a 'May I ?' or, a 'Thank you'
Perhaps, it is that, they are just plain lazy.
Like, our good friend Jack.

Jack, was a smart, able-bodied lad.
He should have sought his fortune, the honest way.
As Dick Whittington did.

I,often, wonder, how Jack's 'happily ever after' worked out?
After all, it was founded on ill-gotten wealth.
Something, that no self-respecting person can be proud of.

Jack, may have, never known want again.
But, did he, live out the rest of his days in peace?
Or, with pride and dignity?
Did, his spirit revel, at having attained his goals, through hard work & honesty?

Somehow, I doubt it.
I think, deep down, Jack must have known, he was nothing, but a lazy, thieving bum.

He may have fooled the world around him.

But, there is no escaping the voice of one's conscience.
Is there?

About Rats & Cats... :) :)

Absence does make the heart grow fonder. I was back home after a long haul & kitty and I were spending quality time together.
We cuddled together on the sofa..Chased each other round the house...Played swipe and catch from under the bed...And eventually, I left Ging to her own devices as I turned my energies to my rather neglected blogs. Assuming that the moggies were otherwise engaged, our resident mouse ran in for a quick scrounge in the kitchen.
Sadly, he scampered straight into the demon kitty who could barely suppress her excitement and glee at the discovery of a live toy. As the startled creature ran for cover with Ging in hot pursuit, I discovered an ugly rodent of the cyber kind. Our very own parasitic cyber stalker, Ms. Cleveland, Ohio!
Careful investigation revealed that the rat had been out on daily forays into the Moggie territory over the past many days.
What could she possibly want? I mused to myself.
Probably searching for more material to disparage you, whispered the voices. Or perhaps, it was just an effort to draw our attention to some abusive gibberish which the delusional creature periodically tries to pass off as literary effort.
The beginnings of a smile curved the corners of my lips as I recalled the theatrics with which this verminous creature swore she would visit the moggies no more. It appeared that, like all hypocrites, the lady had indeed protested overmuch and was now sneaking into Moggie Land through little apertures when our eyes were trained else where!!!
But despite the amusement, I was also in a bit of a quandary
Do we let the pest know that we were on to her and that she had fooled none?
Obviously, she was desperate for some sign of acknowledgement, even if it came in the form of abuse. So should we put the vermin out of her misery by tossing a few written crumbs her way?
As I lazily pondered the matter, from the corner, came a little dissenting miaow
"Let it be mommy...Rats will always be rats...They are just not worthy of our attention..." As I raised a shapely eyebrow at my crouching tigress in the corner, her glowing grey eyes glinted once more " Well, except when we need toys to amuse ourselves with"

Ms. Stalkarazzi

"She is cyber stalking me now.......That *@*#*^@ ^ " .
I yelled at hubby dearest, in fury mingled with triumph...

The she in question, referred to a silly little mosquito who had been inadvertently removed from her murky marshes and now, buzzed aimlessly across the oceans in the Promised Land. It was the perfect example of a non-entity marrying above her station and reacting to the change in her fortunes with an assumed air of superiority. One would have assumed that the stench of her marshes would have kept her sufficiently grounded in reality. But sadly, this little mosquito was lacking in common sense as much as she did in breeding. With the rapaciousness of a true blue vector, she sought to milk her new station for what it was worth, channeling her new spouse's savings into the coffers of her parental home. An understandable reaction from a woman who had grown up with deprivation, envying and coveting the advantages others around her had.
But the greed was the least of any one's worries.

It appeared that her financial and moral insufficiencies weighed down her ego, because in midst of her willful ways and extravagant shopping sprees, she also decided to declare war on her extended family. If thine eye offends thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee said the scriptures. And follow it to the letter was what Ms. Mosquito did. Her new family and friends offended her. And the ensuing battles she engaged herself in to pluck them out was the stuff melodramatic sitcoms on Indian television were made of.

Like most sensible people, I would have consigned her to hell and gotten on with my life.....If it had not been for the fact that, for reasons best known to her, Ms. Mosquito had reserved the bulk of her venomous abuse for me. Why? I hadn’t the faintest clue. True I did not like her. But I had at first swallowed down my dislike, and responded to her appeals for help…And then judiciously kept out of her path while she was battling it out with the rest of the world. All to no avail…This mosquito was in no hurry to get off my my tail.

Desperate for any little tidbit of information about me which she could distort and use in her vitriolic attacks, she took to cyber stalking me with a host of abusive fake profiles on social networking sites and my blogs.

But pride does go before a fall and so was the case with Ms. Mosquito. While I could not track down her fake profiles on the networking sites, the location tracker on this blog did record her visits. And it was in that precise moment of discovery that I turned to my spouse in triumph and annoyance.

“ Look at that…Cleveland, Ohio…I told you that she was cyber stalking me!!! Earlier it was Woodbridge, New Jersey!!!....”

“ Hmm…yes indeed. Maybe she is trying to learn the art of blogging from you...” joked my husband but his flippancy only stoked the fire.

“You must be joking!!!. She can’t even string a decent sentence in English..Besides, she is so incredibly selfish that she can’t think about anything beyond herself. "

“….You know she is a complicated person with a massive inferiority complex….Especially where you are concerned….She hates it that you score over her in every respect...Her inadequacies makes her want to put you down...”
“ Well, if she has an inferiority complex, she should just stay away…Why stalk me with filthy profiles? And write vicious lies about my family? What does she even know about them? If your family had not vouched for her pedigree, I would have assumed that she was born in a fisherman’s hovel..She sure behaves like one. Arrrrgh…..If only I could give her a tight slap across her ugly pock-marked face!!!”

A hit below the belt, my conscience gently reminded me.... but I was beyond caring.

Dsk on the other hand, seemed rather amused

“ Come now, don’t complain…You should be most flattered…I mean how many of us normal people can stake claim to our very own personal stalker cum publicist ??? ....Only celebrities can boast of being stalked & written about in this manner....”

I gaped at Dsk in shock, with my fists still clenched in anger. As usual, he had turned the tables on me, effectively ending one of my tirades even before I had warmed to the topic. And, he was not done as yet.

"But you really should ask her to provide links to your blogs on all those fake abusive profiles she is churning out...Hell, what good is she as a cyber paparazzi if she can't offer her readers the proof of the pudding???"
Talk about saving the best for the last..... *# ^@*@!!!