Sunday, May 13, 2007

Of coastlines and hippies

I haven't had the time to update this blog in a while. But since my dual processors are doing all the work running my simulation right now, I might as well put my idle mind to some use.

Out of the most recent things I've done, driving upto big sur is the most fresh in my memory due to reasons that will not all be revealed here. Regardless, I think some of the photos in this post will convince you of the "memory stamping" capability of big sur. And as I write this, I'm becoming aware of my writing style resembling that of Marianne Keyes. I wonder if it's because her writing had a powerful impact on me or only because she's the last one I read.

Anyway, trying not to digress anymore, about big sur: I've been to my share of beaches in California (a merit of being in Santa Barbara). But the coastline in big sur is truly the "greatest meeting of land and sea", as famously called in the visiting propaganda. The water is a fleeting shade of blue that turns to emrald if you stare long enough. The waves crash against the tiny rocky islands with might that is unknown to the pacific of southern California.

And the visual delight culminates at a creek falling 80 feet down into the ocean next to a cove. Sort of like putting together all the elements in the climax.

The bizzare thing about big sur though, are the rock concerts and beer fests at the campgrounds. One would wonder why the hippies would need to come all the way down to the mountain wilderness to listen to rock bands and drink beer. Well, the fact of the matter is that it's not as much a need as a convenience. You see, Hwy 1 is very conducive to riding harley-davidsons and the it's other two wheeler cousins due the views and the slower speed traffic. So all the bikers (=hippies) are really just taking a break from being baked in the sun and slapped by the winds.

So that's that. The moral of the story being that if you're ever visiting California, don't waste your time going to sea world and universal studios. Drive up 1 and the see the real deal.

Oh, and did I mention that you can see about 200 elephant seals lazying about in the sun right off the freeway. Also, rent a convertible if you don't own one. It's worth it.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

I might have had my issues with SB, but I can't deny that it's gorgeous.

what is a "person"?

Many times I wonder if somethings I think about just occur to me or they come to other people too ("thoughts arrive like butterflies", as Vedder says). For example the following happened to me a few times (it's true, I'm not making it up): I'm staring at myself in the mirror and I see a face. And the realization that I'm looking at myself is suddenly washed away. Like my mind refuses to recognize myself and I'm blank. I think I've found the right words to describe it now. It's like the mind and body are two completely different things and the brain refuses to acknowledge that it belongs to this body. It thinks like an independent entity. The worst is yet to come though. I stare wondering who and what this is that I am looking at. The thing that I'm looking at is a stranger to me. Well, to my mind atleast. It's a feeling that I never would experience consciously, meaning if I tried to.
What I'm trying to say here is nothing philosophical really. It's just a realization that body does just the mechanical work and the brain is where "you" are. That the brain would bring you your identity and the body could look like an egg for all it cares. How peculiar though, that we identify everybody by the way they look. Don't you think?

Friday, February 2, 2007


Iridology (sometimes referred to as iris diagnosis) is based on the bizarre belief that each area of the body is represented by a corresponding area in the iris of the eye (the colored area around the pupil). According to this viewpoint, a person's state of health and disease can be diagnosed from the color, texture, and location of various pigment flecks in the eye.
if you want to read on!

ha ha ha! I should rethink wearing coloured lenses.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Breaking a sweat over a dream?

I wish dreams came from a more intelligent source than my brain. Something that knew how to deal with difficult situations. Something that showed merrier things when life is showing you a hard time. But that's the demise of the real world. And the demise of evolution having gotten only so far. And so I woke up in the middle of the night breaking a sweat over a nightmare. I guess it's true that we need artificial sources of entertainment. Coz if it were left upto us, we'd all be miserable little goons.