damnit i cant write

It appears that I have expressed myself on every aspect of my conciousness. This is the only logical constituency that i can think of for not getting any ideas to write about. I have learned that i cannot write about the traditional matters which have haunted and continue to haunt most of the authors. I somehow cannot seem to bias my thoughts into a current of pulsating ideas. Rather, it appears that my subjugation to writing ideas flourishes only under brief impulse like epiphanies.

Few quotes by a dear but dead friend of mine: Salvador Dali

"The only difference between myself and a madman is that I am not mad."

"The only difference between me and the Surrealists is that I am a Surrealist"

"At the age of six years I wanted to be a chef. At the age of seven I wanted to

be Napoleon. My ambitions have continued to grow at the same rate ever since."

"Every morning when I wake up, I experience an exquisite joy – the joy of being Salvador Dali – and I ask myself in rapture: What wonderful things this Salvador Dali is going to accomplish today?"

"I tried sex once with a woman and that woman was Gala. It was overrated. I tried sex once with a man and that man was the famous juggler Federico Garcia Lorca [the Spanish Surrealist poet]. It was very painful.*"

"What is important is to spread confusion, not eliminate it."

* Dali was not gay, or bi by any standards, if any exist.

Thus spake Zoroaster

There exist strangest relations between the subtlest details of our observations. The comprehension of the matter is not to be established thoroughly. The comprehension of the nature is only possible through subtle glances on the details. The attention must be paid to the eliads and not to the obstructing heels. Consequently, the passages should be independent of the quatrains that follow; connected through only a logical harmony of a broader observation. There must not be refrains, hence. The knowledge must then flow from an individual to another, and not from an institution to a parasite. History makes it happen. The individual reins, the individuality buds on the shores of Euphrates, later to drown in the Tigress.

Only then the melancholy becomes beautiful. The sadness in the strings of violins becomes beautiful. This lachrymose becomes nature's allure. The violin plays; the hurricanes dance; the storms delight; the fires perform in the frolic lightning. In some room on a piano, Beethoven sits and composes the 5th.

not the update I talked about

Tonight, this night, by living one night,
we have lived a thousand epochs.
Tonight, like a healing wine,
these hands have drank the beloved.

by F. A. Faiz

Ether dipped table

People, apologies for the delay in update. A serious update coming soon, so stay tuned.

Violins

Tell those broken dreams to dewel elsewhere
this scar'd heart has no room anymore.

Harry Haller after failing in career, sociability, and love turned to cowardly thoughts of suicide. Declared as an outcast and labeled a madman he could only have made his comeback in the depths of his own thoughts when fueled by Opium. Indeed!

A case for a war

The exact time frame of the origins is unknown. It may even pre-date the egg and the chicken question. There used to be hens, and their male protecters: Cocks. A native indian, in cunjunction to those cocks, had a shaved head with only a strip of hair from front to back; called a roach. Miguel Cervantes thought of the idea of unification. The idea that two subjects can be combined in their nature, and yet be two different entities, hence he created Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. But Cervantes' story is unrelated to cocks, hens and the indian since chivalary died, and romance was institutionalized by the Bourgeois(: the flagbearers of mediocrity).
This tragedy however did not alter the sufferings of Prometheus. The eagles kept tearing apart his liver over and over again, for their nutritional needs. The Condours consequently were not happy with the eagles for stealing their job. Meanwhile, the indian smoked tobacco, and the cocks were being cocks; what hens were doing and the status of the roach is not clear during that particular moment.

If you have thought that this fable would end in concatination of the cock and the roach then know this that it has not. The fable has survived because of its conservatist interpreations.

Franz Kafka

Somebody said that Franz Kafka was crazy; he was a psycho.
Is this not cruel? Why do they say that?

An excerpt from Carmina Burana

O Fortuna (Chorus) O Fortune

O Fortuna                       O Fortune,
velut luna                      like the moon
statu variabilis,               you are changeable,
semper crescis                  ever waxing
aut decrescis;                  and waning;
vita detestabilis               hateful life
nunc obdurat                    first oppresses
et tunc curat                   and then soothes
ludo mentis aciem,              as fancy takes it;
egestatem,                      poverty
potestatem                      and power
dissolvit ut glaciem.           it melts them like ice.

Sors immanis                    Fate - monstrous
et inanis,                      and empty,
rota tu volubilis,              you whirling wheel,
status malus,                   you are malevolent,
vana salus                      well-being is vain
semper dissolubilis,            and always fades to nothing,
obumbrata                       shadowed
et velata                       and veiled
michi quoque niteris;           you plague me too;
nunc per ludum                  now through the game
dorsum nudum                    I bring my bare back
fero tui sceleris.              to your villainy.

Sors salutis                    Fate is against me
et virtutis                     in health
michi nunc contraria,           and virtue,
est affectus                    driven on
et defectus                     and weighted down,
semper in angaria.              always enslaved.
Hac in hora                     So at this hour
sine mora                       without delay
corde pulsum tangite;           pluck the vibrating strings;
quod per sortem                 since Fate
sternit fortem,                 strikes down the string man,
mecum omnes plangite!           everyone weep with me!

The complete lyrics of Carmina Burana can be found here.

submergence

There is a castle, and it rests below the waters. Fish swim by, and call it their home. There is a hydra plant next to the castle. The fish love to peck on his pointed leaves. He leans over the castle and likes to think that he is protecting the castle from the scorching heat of the light bulb. The castle is indifferent to Hydra.

I hate giving titles to everything I write!

Yestarday I saw a different kind of movie: The keeper: The Legend of Omar Khayam. I went to see another movie but the name attracted me immediately.
Most of the movie was shot in Isfahan, Iran, and Nishapur, Iran, and the remaining in Houston, TX. The theme of the movie revolves around the love of Omar Khayam and Darya. But the insights that it reveals does not make that movie a love story by a long shot. Again, my curiosity was sparked by the huge difference in the notions of love in east and west.
I highly recomend that movie to anyone who is a searcher of truth, and knowledge. Somehow, they both are attained through love. True love which is a struggle against impossible odds.

Lamenting caricature

csilence100: cheer up its almost past midnight
csilence100: this is the time when heart ache blossoms
csilence100: and lonliness strikes with all its might
csilence100: lock the insomniac gates of your eyes
csilence100: let the wine and the cup flow
csilence100: now no one, no one will disturb you.

(suggestion to a depressed friend across the Internet on AOL)

Fedora or Suse, that is the question my friend!

The enlightenment that took me by surprise came only after the discovery of the RF feature in my PCMCIA Netgear Wireless card. I was unaware that this WiFi device is compatible with Atheros, and hence, can generate special type of Arp request called 802.11_ARP instead of regular Ethernet ARP. So I installed them. This unleashed the power that I had always wanted from a network device, but with futile practices under incomplete wit! I had a project and that was to crack WEP encryption for 802.11 b/g networks. The first step had been taken with the installation of Atheros drivers and I was ready for the next step.

I wrote a small piece of code (about 700 lines) in C++ to exploit a weekness in the primitive WEB standard. With extreme concentration during debugging the code execution was successful, and the software was ready to crack! This was not the first time I had proved the Knights of Standards and Practices wrong (of course I am reffering to the RFC of WEP). I powered by card and unleashed the beast in it with my software to sniff. And Sniff it did.
After many a arp injections into the victim network (ofcourse the test network in the lab) and mac spoofing of the victim computer, I was finally able to crack WEP encryption. Then I polished my techniques and finalized the practice in steps.

Now I have this amazing tool that can crack WEP encryption of a WiFi network in eight to ten minutes. The only problem: I cannot run it on windows; I need Linux for it. So now I search for a good flavor of linux for my laptop. A flavor which will rejuvinate my ears by a working sound card. A flavor which will be gentle on my fingers by making the touch pad work. A flavor which will indulge into humanitarian actions by conserving the power (battery power for prolonged laptop use). A flavor which will encompass all abstractions of hardware compatibility chanelling them into proper easy to use interfaces. It will be one flavor to rule them all!

Will it be Fedora or will it be Suse? That is the question my friend!

brb?

u say my name and then you vanish
behind those flowing packets of bits;
behind the webs of wires and technology.
absorbed in the space
as a discontinuity in the time continum.