The infamous Ajai Raj is an English major and campus journalist who idolizes Hunter S. Thompson and swears like Cartman. He complains about being busted for pot:
The Pigfucking Establishment had other plans. My roommate and I were awakened at 3 A.M. by two grinning Austin Police Department officers and a greasy-haired fat fuck of an RA who gets his jollies by hanging around with his thumb in his ass until he smells marijuana so he can inform the Justice League in exchange for a free raffle ticket. No shit– as the cops cuffed me for having an ounce of grass, this fucker got a chance to win a free microwave. Or to suck off a sheriff, as far as I know or care.I was led in handcuffs into a waiting room full of crazy yelling degenerates, wife beaters, whores, thieves, and contemptible crying cunts… my balls were fondled by leering criminals posing as representatives of justice… according to our “justice” system, a straight-A college kid holding a bag of weed is as bad a criminal as a guy who beats his wife and kid. I learned that in Texas, a cop can decide to arrest you for no reason at all and you can sit in jail for 72 hours before you’re even charged with a crime…
The law is sticking all kinds of fingers in my asshole right now, but with a few savvy business deals, I can plow through this shit and come out smelling like roses. Ironic, really–to get out of this drug charge, I’m forced to arrange bigger drug deals than I ever intended to. C’est la vie, non?
Raj worships the original gonzo journalist…
Hunter S. was, and is, my hero. No other writer has had a greater impact on my way of thinking…
… and turns surprisingly clean and reverential on the subject of his hero:
[Thompson] wasn’t fucking around – he didn’t have time to worry about the shallowness of decorum and etiquette and politically correctness and society’s misguided rules of propriety… a shaman — a man wiser than the others around him, whose apothecary of mind-altering substances were held in reverence as magic potions or catalysts, if you will, for direct conversation with the holy spirits which occupy planes of existence for which the unenlightened are simply not privy. Through altering his perceptions and staying true to his nature, the shaman finds higher truths and brings them to the people… His purpose is not to put on a happy face and shake hands with false preachers or hypocrites or liars. His job is to put himself in danger of utter destruction at the hands of his own demons in order to show us the demons at large.
Raj’s world-weary affectation even sounds familiar:
We have with us an ounce of grass and two bottles of rum — one white, one gold. Our stash is nothing that would have made the Good Doctor envious, but all of our connections with the harder drugs in life decided to choose tonight to be unavailable, so we had to make do with what we could muster up.
I’m now more inclined to think there’s some coherence behind his asinine stunt. Is he prophet or poseur? The throwback, Mark Knopfler / Hannibal pose doesn’t help.
Update: Here’s Raj’s second statement on the incident, considerably deflated:
I do not, nor have I ever, dealt drugs.
The original pot essay was pretty clearly satirical, so I guess he’s spelling it out in big black letters for the literalists.
Manish, we should consider inviting him as a blogger on SM. Our ratings are slipping and he’d be able to spice things up during May blogsweeps. Of course, this may result in our balls being “fondled by leering criminals posing as representatives of justice.” The blog wing of the FCC. 🙂
As long as he remembers to study for his MCATs, I’ll overlook the coarse language.
He’s my new hero.
Newsflash Ajai: Some people actually get upset about going to jail. This statement reeks of self-importance (everyone here but me has something wrong with them), lack of empathy (the crazy yelling degenerate may be some poor old homeless schizophrenic) and presumptuousness (someone who cries in jail is a “contemptible cunt”?), and sexism (why is calling someone a female body part the worst insult you can bestow?).
I unequivocally agree that Coulter’s bs needs/needed to be called out.
But I have nothing but contempt for this punkass pothead KID who seems to be just full of himself. His actions and followup letter are a sophomoric whole lot of nothing.
Dear SepiaMutiny, do not jest thus with thy loyal readers 🙂
But that’s the thing. He is a punkass KID. He’ll mellow out in a few years, and mutter “christocrats” along with a few choice expletives under his breath as he drinks responsibly with his friends in the privacy of his own home. But for now, let him act like the dumb…undergrad…he is. At least he’ll have stories to tell the grandkids.
Fine with me; I only object to people representing him as a desi emblem of fighting back etc etc.
How cute…our very own Holden Caulfield! Ahahahah…
I only object to people representing him as a desi emblem of fighting back etc etc.
Oh we would never do that. We have M.I.A.’s radical chic and her hipster groupies to do that for us 🙂
So The Smoking Gun has the arrest warrant up I found it via UrbanGrounds, which has firsthand alebit reactionary and possibly racist commentary (“future domestic terrorist”?).
Here’s what the police said he did after he asked the infamous question, according to the TSG document:
“Raj then ran the 30 yards from the microphone back up the aisle to his seat making a repeated motion with with his right arm and hand, which was cupped in a circular shape, towards his crotch area simulating masturbation.”
Hilarious!
On a serious note, I really hope this kid doesn’t lose his financial aid for legal reasons from his drug conviction and/or this.
Here is one of his poems
The Station Lights by Ajai Raj
I. Madmen stalk at twilight Hovering under streetlights that catch their Glowing eyes And make them twinkle through the smoke of their Cigarettes and joints and The various illicit tools of their Crazy trade.
II. Sane men march by sunlight Congregating at institutions that fill their Empty eyes With rickety dreams built of debilitating compromises, furnished with their Tangible baubles and material glammer and The other soulless, lonely fruits of their Judas tree.
III. Confused men stumble in poor light Waving blank banners in crowded buildings, trying to focus their Clouded eyes And see how to dress and how to act, how to use their Half-talents and average smarts and The not-quite-great accoutrements of their Voiceless roles.
IV. Wise men stride through all light Baiting sane men, rousing madmen, drawing confused men with their Piercing eyes And displaying for all the raw truths and wayward glory of their Canons and messiahs and The iridescent beauty of their DreamerÂ’s world.
Another poem
Blueprints by Ajai Raj
Would you like to help me? I’m building a fortress The blueprints say to use stone but the product Never Measures up to them— their perfect concept For an imperfect structure I am using toothpicks and matchsticks And lies, as many as I can believe— would you help me out? I need you to tell me your lies Lies like I love you and He loves us and everything’s alright Glue for my matchsticks, I’d like to use cement but cement is for stone And I have none We can build it together, carefully, a fortress that the blueprints say Could withstand a hurricane (But will not take more than a strong gust) We’ll just try to build it away from the storms and We can sit inside and I will make promises to you until the wind comes To blow them all away.
He has a few short stories published here:
These are the first lines of each story.
Pangaea
by AJAI RAJ
First came the thunderstorms, then the hurricanes, and then the old man.
+++++
Dice
by AJAI RAJ
The cloaked man carried dice in a pouch and was fond of drink.
+++++
Gunther
by AJAI RAJ
Gunther rolled a twelve for “water viscosity”, which is why Amy Zurich fell off of her bike. He watched it on the monitor and giggled, then moved Amy’s piece from “optimum” to “slight injury” in the “FAIRLY FORTUNATE” column.
Wowzers. This kid is a baaaaaaaaaad writer. Ah the self importance of youth. I cant wait till we see him in a few years at Goldman Sachs with a cherry red M3 and shiny shirts for all the desi parties he goes to. But yeah, Ann Coulter is a contemptable, racist, war mongerer.
he is the man.
Personally, I think he is a twat. Anyone that writes such self important, ooh-arent-i-so-hard-and-tough crap as this:
Is an prick. Anyone who prances and poses and wanks off to Hunter S Thompson and beats his chest about what a rebel and hard hearted non-PC brave spliff smoking take no prisoners truth telling man he is is a self loving narcissistic wanker. Anyone who calls weeping people in a police station
is a contemptible cunt himself. A twenty year old spliff-head misanthropist who can write lines like that and thinks he is going to be a writer is not only a contemptible cunt, he is also a deluded contemptible cunt. His writing and poetry are laughable teenage rubbish.
Making a yah-boo protest against a right wing idiot doesnt change the fact that he is a contemptible and deluded cunt. His poetry is masturbation, he is a tosser.
One last thing: anybody who uses the word ‘cunt’ to describe people as casually as he does is a woman hating mysoginist too. It is a disgusting and degenerate word to use in the context, it is a sign of idiocy.
Stupid Cunt.
I want to de-construct this twats poetry but its not worth it. I can just imagine him penning meaningless crap like this and thing it is profound.
Pompous, vague allegory meaning nothing.
Sorry, but one thing I cant stand is self regard and pomposity, those are sins in my book.
Punjabi Boy, damn ur last two posts were so sexy
Jelly- he can dance, too. He’s brilliant. I’ll fight you for him 😉
DesiDancer, would you prefer to settle it with a dance off? although haven’t you heard… PB & Jelly go together
HA! I can’t argue with that logic
Punjabi Boy, please deconstruct Blueprints for me! All I’ve managed to gather from the poem is that it’s about the false concept of utopia and the pointlessness of trying to find the “right” idealogy with which to govern ourselves. Is he referring to God in “He loves us” to make a statement about the Christian Right? The part about using lies, weak bases (matchsticks) correlates with his quibbles regarding the judicial system doesn’t it? Does what I’ve extracted make sense? What is the point he is trying to make? Please don’t respond harshly, I’m not well-read like the rest.
I love the reaction Punjabi Boy is getting
This was a stupid prank. It gives people like Coulter more fodder. Just because people hate Coulter doesn’t mean folks need to cheer idiots like him on.
He did this stunt for attention, validation, and to feel like some revolutionary breaking onto the scene. The issue he raised has become secondary to his conduct and himself. He is the subject of discussion rather than the issue. This is what all egotistical bomb throwers do (Coulter, Limbaugh, Franken, Moore, etc).
Whats even worse is that this kid was serious about the whole event. If he did this as a joke, it would be laughable.
I’m all torn up about his complaints about weed and prison. What the hell did he expect? A pat on the back and a 5 star hotel reservation? It is called prison for a reason.
Actions have consequences. If he wasn’t willing to accept them, then don’t break em. If you do, graciously move on and keep trucking. The Drug bust article was far from amusing.
He smoked pot, got caught, and went to jail. Happens all the time. Plenty of ways to write out a story like that and sound entertaining, if that is the goal. Instead he lauches a tirade against policemen who were paid to be, well policemen, and alleged “degenerates, wife beaters, whores, thieves, and contemptible crying cunts”. I never knew that would be the demographic of a prison. Shudder
Talk about a guy full of himself.
He was actually in a jail, not prison. The distinction is very important because people in jail have not been convicted, and are much more likely to be there unfairly than people in prison. I commend what he did at the Coulter speech, but the fact that he was in jail does render the “crying” comment to be pretty damn mean-spirited and misanthropic as others have said.
My bad. I meant jail. I do know the difference:
Ladies, control yourselves IÂ’m about to let rip on more of this foolÂ’s prose.
Right, I bet this little pissant comes from a wealthy family, Daddy is probably a doctor, never had to struggle in his life. So he gets busted for weed (wowÂ…how dangerous and radical) and he writes about it in his college paper to show the world how cool and great he is.
Note, he didnÂ’t just get take to any police cell, man, he got taken to a hellhole, full of the crazies, man, the degenerates, the wife beaters, the whores and thieves man, I was there man, I went to the dark sideÂ…
Yeah right. He gets turned on when he reads Hunter S Thompson and wants a slice of that, he wants to appear as ‘dangerous’ as that tedious boorish moronic junkie, wants to be ‘cutting edge’ (I just don’t give a fuck man! And I don’t care who knows it!) so he makes sure he tells us he was locked up with the underbelly man, I come from a middle class background, never wanted for anything, born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I’ve been there man, I’ve been on the razors edge, with the whores and the thieves, I am so dangerous man, look at me, look at me, I’m so dangerous.
Its bogus, its false, its masturbation, not writing. The final line, when he tells us about the ‘contemptible cuntsÂ’ who are crying, that just shows what an absolute wanker he is, what a narcissistic spoilt little fey rich boy playing at being bad he is. Appropriating real misery and spitting on the people on the margins (whores and thieves…contemptible cunts…me…the man whoÂ’s been to the edge…look at my picture…IÂ’m smoking weed…oooh…i have long hair…its wild…like me….and i squint…because I just dont give a damn….oooh…), sneering at them just to show how dangerous he is. (I bet there wasnÂ’t anyone else there when he got busted)
ItÂ’s all about him. ItÂ’s self-love, masturbation. What a prick. I reckon he jerks off in front of the mirror every morning. His writing is the literary equivalent of that action.
Dreaming of being a bad boy, when really he is just a sap. I hate posers and frauds.
PB: swooooooon
PB: I think I figured out a way to get you a visit to the US! by hosting a tour of poetry-dissection workshops… We can start in Austin 🙂
PB Fan
You know, I reckon ‘Blueprints’ is a half-assed attempt for this self styled explorer of the dark side to try and appear sensitive. It doesnÂ’t mean anything. ItÂ’s stupid and empty. Like him.
ItÂ’s all fey allusion and an attempt to appear meaningful when actually there is nothing there, insubstantiality for the sake of it. (Hey, I love you baby, lets build a house together, or something, but donÂ’t build them with lies, because IÂ’ve been hurt man, IÂ’ve been hurt before by lies, and IÂ’m so dangerous, I smoke weed, I got busted, met some thieves and whores, but really IÂ’m a sensitive poetic soul, IÂ’m so rough and tough but really IÂ’m sensitive, I smoke weed, I get busted with contemptible cunts, can you feel my sensitive side, IÂ’m a tough guy, but lets build something, our love, not with lies, with, ummmm, matchsticks or something, I donÂ’t know, I smoke weed and go to the far side man, been with thieves and whores, but can you feel my poetry?)
hehehe
Get a life, PB. Your posts are quickly becoming as crude and despicable as what you’re trying to put down.
DesiDancer
I can Kung-Fu like Bruce Lee too.
Just
OK. Do you have life I can borrow? Lend me yours for a little while please because I need to get one.
Thanks.
Punjabi Boy= Renaissance Man
Just… or should we call you A RAJ!
PB, do me next 😀 /stewie
Haha jokes. This guy (A Raj) is getting way too much press here for being an arse. Move on already!
Wow Punjabi Boy, your literary insight has a bibliophile like me crushing on you!
I admire his bad assness! I wonder how many pounds of grass he smokes per week. He looks he is heading for taco bell after getting stoned. This dude rocks!
Punjabi Boy – I, like Jelly and DD, am in awe. He is a bad writer, isn’t he? But, then, as someone who writes badly on her weblog, perhaps I shouldn’t cast stones….
The saddest thing is that there is probably some 19 year old co-ed who thinks he’s hot stuff ’cause he stood up to a rabble rouser second rate who loves this kind of attention cause it sells more of her books, and years and years later, when the co-ed thinks about her college days, she’ll go: “God, how could I have done that? Ewwww. He was such a loser.”
MD, Sonia, Jelly and DesiDancer
I’m single, too 😉
I don’t think its sad at all. He’s a 19 year old kid, and it does seem like he’s almost purposelly trying to write swear words to be “gonzo”. I used to write like Faulkner, but badly. Really badly.
He probably is going to get female attention. At 19, what are you expecting…well thought out critique? He’s kind of well-thought-out in a way. Name me a 19 year old with a literary hero and some opinions on a college campus who thinks he is politically engaged, and I’ll name you….a guy named Ajai Raj
If you want the truth to the whole Ajai Raj story here it is.
Well, thanks PC editor, now I’ve read his version. Yes, perhaps it’s time to move on. He is young, after all.
I stand by my sad comment, raju, mostly because I was thinking of the girl and how she is probably ignoring that really nice guy who is into her but just doesn’t seem that exciting..pay attention to that nice guy, girls.
PB: I am sorry to inform you that by Bollywood movie standards, I should have a gray streak spray-painted into my hair and play the mother to an actress at least 7 to 10 years my junior…. 🙂
iDESI, please stop posting on SM. Your lack of intelligence is appalling. You are embarrassing the real Desis here with your idiotic comments.
Md, I see what you’re saying. I think its better for the girl too
iDESI, please stop posting on SM. Your lack of intelligence is appalling. You are embarrassing the real Desis here with your idiotic comments.
Hey! Play Nice!
“tedious boorish moronic junkie”
anyone who writes this about hunter s. thompson loses all credibility really.
that punjabi boy is somehow then worshiped in this thread is a very telling indicator of the lack of thought out there today. you hate people being “self important,” but yet somehow manage to bleat out your opinions on this character as loudly as you can. your “deconstruction” is amusing. i don’t think the kid is a great writer, either, but he could pick worse to emulate.
you, for example.
“No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun — for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax — This won’t hurt.”
We lost a great writer, drug freak, American, etc. with you, HST. 🙁
RIP
1937-2005
hst was awesome, and for anyone who thinks he was just a drug junkie, you should actually READ some of his work.