Here’s the European title of Harold and Kumar. The subtitle reads ‘Harold & Kumar – Let’s Get Retarded,’ which is maybe redundant.
There are actual castles instead of White Castles out there, so they didn’t want people getting all confused. And unlike us Americans, those Euros gleefully tolerate cheesecake.
Nope, no cheesecake on this here blog 😉
The ghost of Rudyard Kipling lives on in neocolonialist blog Arma Virumque (thanks, Saheli and many others):
… this third-world feminist of color should get down on her knees and thank Siva that her country was the beneficiary of British colonialism. Without it, she would never have heard of feminism or even of the third world, since the very concept depends upon the freedom, education, and language that the West brought to savages [sic] countries in the 18th and 19th centuries. India is such an economic powerhouse today because of the legacy bequeathed by her former colonial rulers… everywhere that Britain went–I cannot think of a single exception–it left better off.
The right-wing blog Power Line chimes in:
It’s great to see someone standing up for colonialism, especially British colonialism.
The author, Roger Kimball, picks the wrong deity and only gets lamer from there. This hapless duffer who calls himself an American patriot is arguing against American independence, which happened precisely because the crown raped its colonies and kept its boot upon the throat of political freedom. And in crediting the Brits with everything, despite their focus on their own economic interests, he falls prey to the classic fallacy of correlation vs. causation. It’s the one made famous by animism and sports superstition: ‘I wore a cap one day, I won, therefore my cap caused the victory.’
For Kimball to give the Brits all credit requires projecting an artificial stasis in India for 200 years. If you flash-freeze hundreds of millions of people and put them into deep hibernation for two centuries, that they’ll end up relatively poor is a tautology. You have to project India along the political, developmental and educational trajectories of similar regions not under colonial rule. Otherwise you’re reduced to a bogus argument: that absent the British, India would never have built a railroad, regional highways, river ports or seaports. Even the smallest and poorest of nations have managed that, if for no other reason than the economic interests of their kleptocrats.
Absent Ford, someone still would have popularized the automobile. Absent Microsoft, someone still would have popularized an operating system. And absent the British, India still would have had transport.
Attack of the blog roundups: MSNBC showed a screenshot of Vinod’s Indra Nooyi post today. Watch the clip.
They focused on Nooyi’s actual remarks and her position as Pepsi president, not the nativist backlash, which is exactly right. Oddly, they quoted the mildest phrase that’s ever been written on Little Green Frothballs: ‘I drink Coke anyway.’
This actually isn’t Vinod’s first time on an NBC network — here’s a photo of his appearance on CNBC several years ago. I’m not sure why he looks angry, but maybe someone stole his copy of ZAMM.
Also, Slate mentioned our MIT time traveler post last week, which Abhi first wrote about.
Thanks for the pixels, anonymous bored journies! Do your bosses know you surf blogs instead of working? Not that you’ll ever read this unless it pops up on Technorati with keywords about national stories. Unfortunately, I don’t see us writing about PARIS HILTON, MICHAEL JACKSON or TERRY SCHIAVO without a genuine desi angle. That would just be crass.
But The Daily Show was right, reading blogs out loud on TV does look pretty silly (watch clip). How about showing our dating profiles next time? Now that would be useful TV 😉
In news that shocked Edna and Wilbur Johnson of Beulah, North Dakota, it’s been discovered IITians are really, really smart. Mitra covers the big IIT reunion in DC:
… [IIT] alumni say American friends are starting to rank the institution with Harvard and MIT… Shenoy related that when his son, a Massachusetts Institute of Technology student, was asked by a professor where his parents went to college, he replied: “My dad went to IIT and my mom went to MIT.”
In turn, his son’s MIT professor said, ” ‘Your dad went to IIT?’ ” Suresh Shenoy recounted, mimicking an incredulous yet impressed inflection. “My wife hates it,” Shenoy said.
No, I bet their son hates it. IIT + MIT = unholy geekiness. Or perhaps your mom helps you install Linux on your iPod. Hey, that’s actually kinda cool…
A rookie air traffic controller just earned a medal for narrowly preventing an Air India disaster (thanks, Ennis). On July 24 last year, an Air India pilot landing at Newark Airport forgot to extend landing gear and came within half a mile of crashing the 747 on its belly. Was anyone you know on that flight?
I love it when desis take the initiative to cut through red tape, such as landing checklists with exaggerations like EXTEND WING FLAPS and LOWER LANDING GEAR. Bah, more unnecessary government regulation. You go, tiger!
One afternoon four years ago… out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a Comanche coming over the threshold and preparing to land. The aircraft’s landing gear was still up… my trainer told me, ‘Look for feet (landing gear). Always look for feet on the (propeller-powered aircraft). The prop guys don’t have the warning systems, but the jets will always have feet.'”Continue reading
Fast forward to the afternoon of July 24, 2004… “We had a (Boeing) 747 coming in,” he said. “You can point out a 747 easily on a clear day.” It was Air India Flight 145, with 409 passengers aboard.
“He was on five-mile final approach,” Dittamo remarked. “I saw him but I couldn’t see gear.” With his Fort Lauderdale trainer’s instructions in his head – ‘Always look for feet’ – Dittamo glanced in a different direction and then turned back to the 747 to look again. No gear. “I thought, ‘something just doesn’t seem right,'” he said. “In my mind, I said I would pick it up in my next scan. But then I looked up and the plane definitely had no gear.”
By this point, Flight 145 was on a half-mile final at an altitude of 600 feet. “I was surprised he didn’t go around,” Dittamo stated. “I was going to let it go for one more second, because this was a critical phase of the flight for the crew. But then I just said to myself, ‘I’m not going to let this go for any longer.'”
Dittamo keyed the mike: “Air India 145, check gear down. Gear appears up.” The pilot acknowledged the transmission with a calm, “Air India 145.” Down came the gear and the 747 landed safely on Runway 4R.
The last time I was subjected to the water-boarding called looking for a Manhattan apartment, I cast a covetous eye on a beautiful midtown loft. This place had a sunny balcony facing the art deco fantasy of the Chrysler Building, and a motormouth roommate who talked like she was on cocaine. I’d almost convinced myself I could handle the roommate, but one thing she said stuck sourly in my head.
She asked me whether I’d be cooking. ‘I can’t stand that curry smell,’ she said.
Let’s put that trope out of its British Raj-induced misery. Indian dishes as a whole are not called curry. They’re called sabzi or khana in Hindi, or just plain Indian food. In Punjabi cooking, curry is one specific dish: a thick yellow sauce made with yogurt and garbanzo flour, spiced with turmeric and eaten with rice. Some stir munchies like vadas, chicken or mutton into this base.
Calling all Indian food ‘curry’ is like calling all American food ‘Jello’: it’s nonsensical. If you tell me, ‘Let’s get some curry!’ and then order saag paneer, I’m going to laugh at you. Loudly.
Is this just semantic quibbling, when cheap Indian restaurants themselves perpetuate the corruption? Forget Curry in a Hurry, try ordering a Chinese dish by the wrong name. I did that at the tiny takeout place on the corner and got a stern lecture. ‘That not chow mein,’ the owner said. ‘I make you lo mein.’ Damned if it wasn’t better, just like he said.
Alef: By popular demand, we’ve posted a page showing all our banners and explaining the references. It’s also linked from the FAQ. Cliff notes for the Mutiny — it’s kitschy goodness.
This is one of my favorites. Dimple Kapadia and Rishi Kapoor have a Scooby-Doo, Daphne-and-Fred thing going on, crossed with a hapless Japanese bystander from Godzilla:
Ba: I know we asked earlier that people link us as ‘(Author) from Sepia Mutiny,’ but yeah, that’s pretty verbose. Just plain ‘Sepia Mutiny’ is fine, thanks.
Hear, hear! The first Los Angeles Carrom Open is hereby called to order (via Hollywood Masala):
First Prize $501, Entry Fee: $5 Per Person
11335 East 183rd Street
Cerritos, CA 90703
(562) 865-9892
All preliminary rounds will Start at 10:00 AM on Saturday, June 4, 2005
Quarterfinals, Semi finals and Finals will be on Sunday, June 5, 2005
A striking idea. I have a feeling that ‘Big Middle Finger’ Nooyi and her super-slippery talcum powder have this one in the pocket.
To those bored with M.I.A. hype, pretend I’m drawing a cloak of invisibility around this post. Pretend it was hidden somewhere far, far away where nobody would ever read it. In other words, my personal blog 😉
First up, Maya Arulpragasam’s dad and album namesake got a few lines in a 1995 book called Tigers of Lanka. The book describes his Sri Lankan escapades after training in explosives in Lebanon (via Nittewa):
One of the first three Tamils to go to Lebanon was Arul Pragasam, alias Arular. He reached Kannady, also in Vavuniya, in 1976 with a view to settle down and establish a base to woo the educated class into joining the EROS… Arular, with his Kannady farm barely 20 miles from Pirabaharan’s hideout, met the LTTE leader several times beginning September 1976. With his degree in engineering and newly-acquired knowledge in Lebanon, Arular passed on to Pirabaharan ideas about making explosives. In turn, Pirabaharan agreed to provide incendiary chemicals to Arular.
Once a LTTE courier carrying nitric acid to the Kannady farm was caught by the police after he could not give credible explanation about his presence in the Vavuniya forest. Arular, who came rushing from Jaffna on hearing about the arrest, told the police that he had ordered the acid to pour it into snake pits. Mercifully, the police were convinced by the explanation and released the courier. But Pirabaharan would not leave any evidence; at the first opportunity he had the police station raided and all documents related to the arrest were taken away…
Second, Turbanhead points us to some shaky handheld video clips of M.I.A. performing at Coachella. Live performances, like drinking, rarely look good in daylight, but Punk Ass Bitch reports that M.I.A. got a rare Coachella encore:
Tatonnement pokes fun at fellow Bengalis, who may just lay claim to being the French of India, Pondicherry be damned:
Q) What do you call three Bengali men?
A) Two Political Parties…We are actually a race of well-bred intellectuals interested in art, culture and the finer things of life. Gentlemen who watch cricket and… What’s that you say? Dravid is a better captain!?! …
For Bengalis more than other communities, the size of their immediate cohort almost completely determines their behaviour. The average Bengali is a pack animal… The sight of other werewolves is just the spark he needs and Dr. Bruce Bandopadhyay finds himself answering the call of the wild – transforming into a green-skinned monster… laying waste to every heavy vehicle… [the] Bonglomeration… is a sight to behold…
The Bonglomeration has risen in the past to fend of attacks from such savage races as the British and the Punjabis, who made the mistake of underestimating the capacity for violence in the Bengali, thanks probably to impressions formed based on Bengalis they personally knew… remember that however mild-mannered your Bengali colleague may seem, do not provoke him in the presence of the Bonglomeration. Your life is forfeit if you do…
