Buying a Sri Lankan

Why can't I own a Canadian? is an internet meme that became popular because of a parody letter about the ramifications of a certain Biblical law that states that it is okay to own slaves as long as they are from a foreign nation. The letter was originally written by someone named Jim, as a response to Dr. Laura Schlessinger, a radio personality who dispensed advice to people calling in on her radio show. A follower of Orthodox Judaism herself, she had condemned homosexuality by citing Leviticus 18:22 which says: "Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination." The letter has been posted and re-posted several times (Hence, the post) since it first appeared on the internet in 2002. Here's the version from the Humanists of Utah website. It's been sometime since I read something so snarky, and 'informative':

Dear Dr. Laura,

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them:

When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?

A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this?

Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?

Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Your devoted fan,
Jim

The Lumberjack's Guide to Philosophy

Word of Derision – Dedicated to the book which inspired this nonsense. But more to the idiot who gave it to me. At night, I read it to sleep :-) Please refer to the glossary in case you find the terminology a bit abstruse.

Long long ago, in a forest far far away, hidden somewhere in the Macula Cluster in the southern spiral of the Galaxy, lived a friendly neighborhood lumberjack named Marvin Black. From the very dawn of his remarkably singular life, everyone around him, including the fortune telling computer Dumb Opinion, had the firm notion that Marvin would grow up to become a great philosopher (and lumberjack). Even when he was just 4 years old, Marvin started showing the traits of becoming one. He purportedly asked his grandma, “Why do we suck thumbs?” on his 4^th birthday. It is also rumored that his very first word was not Mum or Dad but Why. Amazing as it may sound, Marvin also grew up to become a skilled lumberjack. Many lumberjackass girls swooned over him. However, Marvin was not oblivious to his duties as a fine philosopher. He remained, people speculate, a lifelong bachelor.

Believing more in the prophecy of Dumb Opinion than his capacity, Marvin Black learnt the nuances of philosophy from the great Cheekat Oracle himself. For 13 years, and at a fee of 4223 purest Clam Shells, Marvin persevered. Ultimately one fine morning, when he sat meditating under a Mocking Tree, he experienced Stupid Enlightenment – the greatest of all enlightenments. Marvin realized his journey had now begun. He took the leave of his guru, Cheekat Oracle, and departed in search of the Greatest Question. The entire lumberjack community of Macula Cluster bid him a teary farewell.

(Aside – Actually, it was the Mocking Tree just making fun of Marvin. “There were no signs of the real Stupid Enlightenment”, said expert Enlightenment Inspectors. It is suspected that Cheekat Oracle had himself rigged up the entire fraud, for he hiked his fee the very next semester. The book 1000 Ways to Ridicule Lumberjacks was also found in the possession of Mocking Tree, supposedly a gift from Cheekat Oracle himself. Every lumberjack in the cluster knew that Marvin Black had been duped. But no one had the courage to tell him the truth and break his heart. Also, many Elders believed that Marvin was destined to become a philosopher, enlightenment or not. Marvin was about to prove all them very correct.)

Marvin wanted to bring philosophy within the realms of understanding of the Common Man, the dumbest computer in the world. Having sworn to achieve this commendable feat, Marvin began to seek one Enlightenment after another, even giving up lumbering after he was just 42 years old. He learnt philosophy from all the great masters in the galaxy, including Wholesome Hole and More of the Moron. Sometimes he had to even hitchhike and travel in unsanitary conditions across the immense reaches of space; just to satisfy his Satya Ki Pyaas. But Marvin Black was relentless. His ultimate aim was to solve the most perplexing question in the galaxy, The Greatest Question – “Why Do Men Have Nipples?” For answering the same, he sought the assistance of the most useful theory in philosophy, the Theory of Life, the Nipples, and Everything. Having attained the blessings and guidance of all the great thinkers of his time (including Wholesome Hole and More of the Moron), Marvin settled down on a lonely planet called, well quite obviously, Lonely Planet.

Slowly, but steadily, the galaxy came to know of Marvin’s prowess as a philosopher. People send exa-pigeons to him with their doubts and questions. He always tried to answer them to the best of his capability. In pursuit of the Greatest Question (re - para 2), Marvin solved some of the other lesser known but equally difficult puzzles. For example, he came up with answers to baffling problems like “Why don’t people shit just one turd?”, “Where have all the dodos gone?” and “Who is your daddy?” within three years of his stay at Lonely Planet. It is for the same reason that the Elders asked him to keep an account of his philosophical exploits, lest his efforts were lost after him. This request led to the publication to what we now know as The Lumberjack’s Guide to Philosophy, an attempt to explain philosophy to the Common Man.

The success of the guide was impeccable. Within months of the first edition being published, Marvin Black became a household name. Lonely Planet found a place on the tourist map of the Galaxy. Marvin was not too pleased with all the undue attention he got. Like any other eccentric philosopher, he wanted to be left alone to his devices. Often, he would throw a Philosophical Bomb at some unsuspecting admirer and when the fan had been baffled enough, Marvin took his leave, often smiling smugly at his victory. With age and knowledge, Marvin became more and more of an oddball and even less accessible. Earlier resorting to just Philosophical Bombs, Marvin now employed the services of Quackomatic Ducks in order to ward off unwelcome admirers and fans.

The galaxy had accepted Marvin as the greatest contemporary philosopher, even better than all his gurus and mentors. His proofs were immaculate and up till now, each had been understood by Common Man. By ensuring this benchmark was met, Marvin made sure his take on Nipples, Life and Everything was understood by all the inhabitants of the galaxy. However, all his attempts to quench his Satya Ki Pyaas had proved futile. He knew time was running out and in desperation, he came up with less than perfect solutions to The Greatest Question. Quite obviously, these solutions were comprehensible by everyone but the Common Man. Prone to bursts of moodiness, Marvin blew all his money on drinking binges and bar fighting. People thought that he was going crazy and called him the Perennial Paranoid Pauper. Up to some extent, this was indeed true. But as far as philosophy was concerned, Marvin was the best the Galaxy had seen and that would remain so for several decades to come.

One night, as Marvin turned around in an uncomfortable sleep, he was visited by none other than Mogamboji. It has been widely speculated that Mogamboji whispered the answer to the Greatest Question in Marvin’s ears that night. Quite contrary to expectations, Marvin Black chose not to refute any such allegations. In a press conference held the next day he said, “I think my theories and solutions should give you an idea whether Mogamboji is behind it or not.” Myth or mystery; The Greatest Question was solved that night. Its solution made Marvin Black, the Perennial Paranoid Pauper, immortal in the annals of history.

Having succeeded in his life’s aim, Marvin spent the rest of his life in peaceful contentment, warding off the Quackomatic Ducks he had previously hired. He had somehow managed to forget the secret frequency and was not ready to pay the hiring agency any more clam shells for recovering it. He died at the ripe old age of 142. It is said that his last words were, “Gosh! I think I don’t have any nipples.” Marvin Black, through his determination and dedication, became synonymous with philosophy and all that it entails. This is just a small glimpse into the life of a great thinker. SleepingTablets hopes you enjoyed the read.

So long, and thanks for bearing with all the nonsense.

In case you want to buy a copy of The Lumberjack’s Guide to Philosophy, please email us at sleepingtablets@gmail.com. The cost of a deluxe edition is 42 Clam Shells and includes Marvin’s Solution to the Greatest Question. The paperback version, for beginners in philosophy, comes at an unbelievable price of just 17 Clam Shells. Book your copy now!

Glossary

In alphabetical order

Common Man – Supposedly the dumbest computer in the Galaxy. It once calculated two plus two as four and a half. Possibility of Diode Malfunctioning was ruled out.

Mogamboji – The patron god of all god fearing philosophers. Digambarji is the patron god of all non god fearing philosophers.

Elders – Wise looking people in any community of Lumberjacks.

Exa-Pigeons – Mechanical Robotic Pigeons designed to travel through hyperspace and deliver messages faster than the usual means of communication.

Mocking Tree – Also known as Mockree, a tree which attempts to mock the lumberjack chopping it. It does so in the hope that the lumberjack will ultimately be so depressed by the ridicule that he will give up chopping the tree.

Quackomatic Ducks – Ducks which emit shrill quacks and can discourage any person from entering one’s home. These ducks give you a special frequency which makes the quacks ineffective on the employer/owner himself.

Satya Ki Pyaas – The ever lasting hunger for truth and the Greatest Question.

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I have now realized how grossly mistaken I was when I thought that my esteemed readers would redress some of my grievances by answering a question that had been put up. I can now say for sure that the decision wasn't what most of the junta would consider intelligent. Maybe therein lies the eluding definition. Thank you all. What would I do without your benevolence? Even your silence is profound.

Coming to think of it, this silence was commented upon not once or twice but several times during the course of the past few days. “Sid Lal, tumhaare blog ko saanp soongh gaya hai!!” said a concerned reader. I was almost mortified. Some reparation was due. My trash-conjuring skills were not meant to die an untimely death. They were, in the least, meant to drive some naïve souls to insanity. A disaster management scheme was put into motion. The results are eagerly awaited.

The opportune experience has, of course, left me wiser. Never bore people with questions that do not concern them. They are liable to consider you a philosopher, an assumption which is sure to deter any future visits to your online haven. The Golden Mantra for getting the maximum number of responses: Find your funny bone. If the former is too hard to unearth, be neutral. Don't be all genius-y if you can help it.

Believe me, being genuinely funny is probably as monumental a feat as attending all (and I mean ALL) classes in a semester. You can put up a decent show. You can even tickle a few souls who have been gifted with a malfunctioning sense of humor. But to be able to achieve the feat, time and again, is a commendable achievement. It's the forte of those who have been born with special powers. Lesser mortal can only hope to effect a reprise, often ending in disastrous consequences.

So this lesser mortal will put an end to this monologue of his, expecting he has not been too exacting. He also hopes he hasn't been too churlish by trying to emulate the smile gurus. Forgive him if he has erred. For as Shakespeare might have put it, "Justice is almost divine when seasoned with mercy." Oh damn! There I go again. Pardon me folks. It's time to catch a few ZzZzZzZ. So long.

iPod Nano

Here's the story about how my iPod came to be mine:

Circa July 07, I asked SB to get an iPod for me. Mr. SB "BusyBee" promised to get me an iPod at a discounted rate of 10k. I was positively bubbly. I was getting a flat rebate of 3k on the market price. Nothing could be better. SB assured me I would be grooving to a Nano by the time I left Lucknow. The day came and went. Instead of the grooving bit, I was literally fuming.

SB again became the knight in shining armour. He made me believe I would get it in a week's time through Tewari Bhai. A week of anticipation passed as well. I was as near to getting the Nano as Chiku was to proposing to The *beep-beep* Team. Hmpf. Some cells were fished out and some calls were made. However, after a lot of phone calls and frustration, I finally realized that nothing was going to happen. At least not until I banked on SB to make things happen. So I decided to get one myself (courtesy a venture capitalist who goes by the "nick"name of John G. Buss). I hitch-hiked to Ahmedabad today and got me one for 11k (not a bad bargain eh?)

I had promised Shaktimaan I would update my blog tonight. But I was too wrapped up in my latest muse. In fact, I was too engrossed to do anything but upload as much music onto it as possible (I am enjoying the fruits of my labor right now).

So, my apologies Shaktimaan. Next time, I will try to do a better job out of posting trash here. My sincerest apologies to SB as well (for casting him as a villain in this teeny anecdote). He is not that bad either. Or is he?

I will let the matter rest for the time being. A lovely number from Sadma is playing. Shantaram is waiting too. It's time to say good night.

A Journey of Sorts

We have often heard people say that the soul of India resides in the villages. I found that statement to be very true. But my impression is that one can get a feel of this extraordinary country by traveling for a day or two (is that too much?) in a general compartment of Indian Railways. What not can you find there? You get to see every facet of India. Ah Well! The elite class of the millionaires might be conspicuous by their absence. But that doesn’t constitute even a fraction of the population in India. So we will ignore them for the meanwhile. So let’s begin our journey of sorts.

It begins by arriving at the railway station 30-40 minutes before the scheduled departure for you can never depend on the irregularity of the railways. There you might have to make your way through camps which seem to have sprung up all over the platform. Finally, after a lot of shouting and haggling, you find a decent spot on the platform and then begins your ‘not so long’ wait for the lady of your dreams. And just like your girl friend, it arrives in all its glory right when you were about give up in a moment of desperation. Horns Blaring, Lights blazing; it enters its court in regal grandeur.

But the grandeur often doesn’t last long. For there is a stampede, not an exaggeration of course, to get into the unreserved compartments. I will leave the scene to your imagination for I had neither the courage nor the necessity to experience it first hand. I move to a more civilized section which goes by the name of ‘sleeper class’ and is obviously meant for people like me (read people who like to sleep a lot). After a lot of pushing, you get to your berth. If you are lucky enough, then you won’t have to fight to keep your luggage underneath the berths. But if you are not, then God help you. Now is the time to relax after all this hard work. I often get out to get myself a bottle of water and to escape the unbearable heat inside a stationary compartment.

Smiles lighten up the face of the passengers if the train departs according to schedule. They soon occupy themselves with various tasks (read chatting and bothering other people). But the bugging chats are often the most interesting part of a rail journey. One can find people from almost all sections of the society in a general compartment. There are the students, then the huge Indian Middle Class and then come the masses. So naturally the topics of discussion are very varied and range from reservation to superstition. But the best part is that the orator often considers himself to be the master of the subject. He will go to any lengths to emphasize that point. Reason for such a behavior may not be hard to guess and stems from the primal need to gain attention. (I remember reading a story named The Seventh Pullet which emphasized this very point in quite a remarkable fashion).

One can find people carrying their entire household with them. Beddings, quilts, mattresses, utensils withal. Babies cry and disturb peace-loving passengers like myself. Cleanliness may be next to Godliness. But Indians find it hard to resist not providing the railway cleaners with some real hard work. (It is a different matter altogether that the cleaners don’t bother either). One would know when it is the season for groundnuts from the shells decorating the floors. But in spite of all this blab, I may be the next one to dirty the same floor. That is the state of affairs here.

Even associations and friendships are formed in the blink of an eye. People, who hardly knew each other an hour ago, chat away merrily as if two long lost friends have suddenly found bliss in each other’s company. They bid each other teary farewells (not to say that I have not done that) and hope to meet again in some other remarkable journey!

That really is the crux of the matter. We can’t help hating this country for all the shit that it conjures up. But at the same time, we can’t help romancing with it for the same reasons! Maybe the problem lies in us. After all, what is a nation without its people? Just an empty shell. But whatever may be the state of railways or the traffic or the politics, one just can not help adoring this remarkable nation for all that it has given us. It seems to have some paranormal magnetic field which will make the prodigal son return; no matter how much of the world he has seen.