First Blogger to Second Blogger (whispers):
"Dude, that's the blogger who won the Desi Pundit Slogan Contest"
Second Blogger (craning his neck to catch a better glimpse):
No way!
First Blogger:
Way!
Second Blogger:
But..but...he looks just like US!
Flash bulbs popping. Screams, catcalls, whistles. The two bloggers try to duck under the velvet rope.
A HUGE BALD BOUNCER stretches out his muscular, tattooed arms and grabs the two men by their necks.
CUT TO
A tuxedoed blogger (or an off-the-shoulder, Versace-gowned lady blogger..)
making the acceptance speech, then jumping into a black, shiny stretch-limo to get to a computer to blog about the awesome prize-giving ceremony, about the celebrity bloggers in attendance and why Amit Varma has finally decided to enable comments - in his real-life conversations (just kidding, pardner..)
Yeah, the Slogan Contest is that cool.
A glance at the comments section on that sticky indicates that janta has got off to a flying start. They are busy polishing their rhyming skills, replacing well-known product slogans with the words "Desi Pundit" and even suggesting design ideas.
Only one problem. There are way too many similar-sounding slogans out there. Differentiation can be your best friend.
So why not try something really different? Like an anti-marketing angle, the negative psychology trick. For instance, a slogan like
"Because Desi Baba Is No More"
"We Suck Less Than IIPM"
"ToI Thinks We Are Great!"
"#2 in a field of 1"
is sure to stick longer in the panelists' minds than just puns involving the words "Blog", "Desi", "Pundit" and "India".
Slogans like "Hamara Blogistan", "Hum Blog", "Blogz By Sand Niggaz" are all awfully obvious. As are word-plays involving India's population ("One Billion Served"), spoofs of Bollywood titles ("Kyonki Main Blog Nahin Karta") and plain lies ("DP: Serving Tasty Blogs Since 1857")
On the off-chance that you can't come up with anything catchy, try bribing. Cash, iPod Nanos, DSLR cameras or an Ivy league education for the panelists' children. Try it. You will be surprised by the response!
Should they turn down your kind offer, use threats and intimidation. Send them scary emails. Like the ones that begin: "Hi! I have a new blog with pictures of my cat"
If gifts, sticks and stones don't get you the coveted prize, then, my dear friend, you will just learn to live with the bitter taste of failure.
Better still, open that bottle of Chivas you got for your imaginary Thanksgiving dinner, take 6 fast shots and blog about your hangover. You know whom to tip-off about that fine post, right?
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Monday, November 21, 2005
The Brave Mr. Shanmugham
A sad story involving the usual immiscible elements: ethics, politics, money and oil. (via DesiPundit)
Practically a replay of the Satyendra Dubey murder. (link to skdubeyfoundation.org)
Practically a replay of the Satyendra Dubey murder. (link to skdubeyfoundation.org)
Rhymes with Ice Cream
Driving up to work this morning, I noticed a truck with a red logo painted on its back: "Jack and Jill Ice Cream".
Jack and Jill? They of the broken crown and the after-tumbling fame? I can understand Jack and Jill bandages, adhesives and buckets. But ice cream?
Jack and Jill? They of the broken crown and the after-tumbling fame? I can understand Jack and Jill bandages, adhesives and buckets. But ice cream?
Guilty Pleaures
Driving around at night, listening to Carpenters' "Singles (1969-1973)".
Never have I felt such strong urges to both sing along and trash the CD. No point fighting either one, is what I have learned.
A great singer, and Karen Carpenter is a darn good one, makes you want to sing along. So I sang along on every chorus and verse, tried singing harmonies and even played air-piano to "Close to you".
But I am proud to say I made no attempt to fight the second urge either. As soon as the New York city skyline appeared in front of me on the turnpike, I switched to a monstrously beautiful Sabbath gold: "War Pigs". Devil signs were flashed (at myself), re-assurances given that I was not a hopeless case yet and teenage years were desperately relived as the volume was raised to near-deafening levels for the scary-good outro of that song.
So, how was your weekend?
Never have I felt such strong urges to both sing along and trash the CD. No point fighting either one, is what I have learned.
A great singer, and Karen Carpenter is a darn good one, makes you want to sing along. So I sang along on every chorus and verse, tried singing harmonies and even played air-piano to "Close to you".
But I am proud to say I made no attempt to fight the second urge either. As soon as the New York city skyline appeared in front of me on the turnpike, I switched to a monstrously beautiful Sabbath gold: "War Pigs". Devil signs were flashed (at myself), re-assurances given that I was not a hopeless case yet and teenage years were desperately relived as the volume was raised to near-deafening levels for the scary-good outro of that song.
So, how was your weekend?
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Revolution 10
I was googling* for some analyses of Beatles' chords and song structures when I stumbled upon a page containing these shocking words: "During their years together, the Beatles released roughly 10 hours of music with scarcely a loser in the lot." (link goes to a davis.ca.us page)
Did I read that sentence right?
I did. It does say "10 hours".
That's an average, typical working day for most of us. Or say, the time it would take to watch 3 or 4 films. Or less than half the time it takes to reach Mumbai from New York.
How will they measure our life's work? In fractions of picoseconds?
*I also realized that I really miss some of these fanboy geocities sites containing really good analysis, like this one (link to a geocities page, thankfully with a non-blinding background and text color.) Check out the chapter titled "Theory". Also recommended is the superb analysis of Revolution 9.
Did I read that sentence right?
I did. It does say "10 hours".
That's an average, typical working day for most of us. Or say, the time it would take to watch 3 or 4 films. Or less than half the time it takes to reach Mumbai from New York.
How will they measure our life's work? In fractions of picoseconds?
*I also realized that I really miss some of these fanboy geocities sites containing really good analysis, like this one (link to a geocities page, thankfully with a non-blinding background and text color.) Check out the chapter titled "Theory". Also recommended is the superb analysis of Revolution 9.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Bruce Springsteen on "Fresh Air"
No show has more interesting guests than "Fresh Air" and few hosts have the interviewing skills of Terry Gross (link to Wikipedia.) Her interview (link to NPR's site) with Bruce Springsteen this evening was just so damn cool.
A very insightful quote from the Boss about the structure of his songs (and I am being a fearless and a shameless paraphraser here): "...the details of the characters and their stories are all in my verses. But my choruses are about hope..." (wish I could remember the exact words.)
A very insightful quote from the Boss about the structure of his songs (and I am being a fearless and a shameless paraphraser here): "...the details of the characters and their stories are all in my verses. But my choruses are about hope..." (wish I could remember the exact words.)
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Countering the Counterculture
Yesterday, I saw this punk with a spectacular mohawk. I know punks can't live on anarchy, three chords and safety pins alone, but watching this thin, white figure covered in black leather and metal shopping in the cereal aisle at the supermarket and then ducking into the organic foods section was more than just a little funny. Did I mention there was Elton John playing on the PA system? Fuckin' A for Irony.
Standby for the segue, please.
Saw this post by the chart-bustin' toppermost of the poppermost, aka Amitbhai, who points us to a post by Prufrock The Second. They both wonder why there isn't a counterculture in India. Prufrock does list some important Indian counterculture movements (like the one led by this uber-punk or that other one), but that doesn't quite feel like a counterculture movement, does it?
Really, why don't we have a counterculture? Answers like "we are like this only" and "but that's Hinduism, stupid" sound glib (and sometimes, true.) As far as I remember, Indian teenagers also feel disenchanted, angry and helpless like teenagers do, all over the world. But only a tiny fraction of them get to sublimate that energy through rock music, blogging, film, literature and humor. What do the rest of them do? Does anyone know?
There is another level of difficulty to this debate. When we say India lacks a counterculture, are we really complaining about the absence of a western-style counterculture? Did that sound like western-style toilets? OK, so we never had Greenwich Village poets, no Mods and Rockers, no mohawk-sporting punks and no fists-in-the-air-Hell-no-we-won't-go marches. But what is India if not paradoxes. After all, are we not a nation of laid-back counterculturists wholearnt learned learnt to chant Mr. Leary's mantra way, way before the Summer of Love. And wasn't India the destination of choice for these rebels once? Woah, counterculture for the counterculturists!
I think the discussion is pointless without us asking this question: is there a monolithic entity called "Indian culture" and can there possibly be a single counterculture in response to it? This title by Mr. Naipaul comes to mind.
There are as many Indian countercultures as there are Indian cultures. You hate the culture of conspicuous consumption? There's a counterculture for that. You hate the counterculturists opposed to the flashy, material consumers? There's a contra-counterculture for that one. Loathe the mixing of politics and religion? Welcome to the counterculture of secularism. Can't stand the yellow-bellied, English-speaking, fence-sitting secularists? Join the orange fringe. And so on.
It may or may not match the romantic picture of the western counterculture that we carry around in our heads, so what, it's still a culture.
Standby for the segue, please.
Saw this post by the chart-bustin' toppermost of the poppermost, aka Amitbhai, who points us to a post by Prufrock The Second. They both wonder why there isn't a counterculture in India. Prufrock does list some important Indian counterculture movements (like the one led by this uber-punk or that other one), but that doesn't quite feel like a counterculture movement, does it?
Really, why don't we have a counterculture? Answers like "we are like this only" and "but that's Hinduism, stupid" sound glib (and sometimes, true.) As far as I remember, Indian teenagers also feel disenchanted, angry and helpless like teenagers do, all over the world. But only a tiny fraction of them get to sublimate that energy through rock music, blogging, film, literature and humor. What do the rest of them do? Does anyone know?
There is another level of difficulty to this debate. When we say India lacks a counterculture, are we really complaining about the absence of a western-style counterculture? Did that sound like western-style toilets? OK, so we never had Greenwich Village poets, no Mods and Rockers, no mohawk-sporting punks and no fists-in-the-air-Hell-no-we-won't-go marches. But what is India if not paradoxes. After all, are we not a nation of laid-back counterculturists who
I think the discussion is pointless without us asking this question: is there a monolithic entity called "Indian culture" and can there possibly be a single counterculture in response to it? This title by Mr. Naipaul comes to mind.
There are as many Indian countercultures as there are Indian cultures. You hate the culture of conspicuous consumption? There's a counterculture for that. You hate the counterculturists opposed to the flashy, material consumers? There's a contra-counterculture for that one. Loathe the mixing of politics and religion? Welcome to the counterculture of secularism. Can't stand the yellow-bellied, English-speaking, fence-sitting secularists? Join the orange fringe. And so on.
It may or may not match the romantic picture of the western counterculture that we carry around in our heads, so what, it's still a culture.
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