Random Rant 7:- The Excuse-Me Tango

So there I'll be, walking along, tralalalala, minding my own fucking business.

Then suddenly, some idiot will stop right in front of me. These idiots can come from anywhere. They may materialize around the corner, or may coming head on at you. Usually they are looking somewhere else. The ones coming around the corner do not have the sense to recognize the possibility of someone coming in the blind spot behind the corner, they just come barreling through. Those coming head on are looking at the ceiling, the floor, or into space- anywhere else but right in front of them. These I can at least see, because I'm of course looking in the proper direction.

But it may just be that I am in the confined space of a narrow corridor or such. Not much area for maneuverability. So now, bam, I'm stuck with said moron in front of me.

Idiot.

I hate having the flow of my walk broken for no good reason, but for someone's carelessness.

But being the bigger man, being the peacemaker, being the nice fucking guy that I am, I choose to step aside and give the erring soul yield, so that he/she may get the fuck on their way, and I can continue as well.

But no. Said idiot moves in the same direction that you do.

Damn it. Why would you do that? You have already put your incompetence on full display, why now would you block me from putting you far behind me, physically and otherwise?

Okay, I choose to ignore this blip. All is not lost yet. But I want to get the hell out of there. So I go to side-step the person. Only to have them step in the same direction.

Okay, what the fuck, man? Why are you mocking me now? Can you just move so I can be on my merry fucking way?

So I step back the other way. To my absolute horror, so the does the other person. It is getting agitating now. I mean, I was already agitated, but now the facade of good citizen is starting to crack.

So this back and forth thing can happen any number of times. It may be accompanied with embarrassed smiles and muffled apologies. Excuse me, no you excuse me, no you excuse me, and so on.

But here comes the best part.

I stop. I think, enough of this chicanery, I'm done with this bullshit. You can do whatever you want. But then the other person stops too. Now we both look like idiots who are just standing there. The horror. The shame. I want to die. I want to pick the other person up and throw them in the other direction. Look, just go around me, what are you doing?

But that's okay. I know the person's next move. By following the previous pattern, I know they are going to the side. So, here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to prevent any further shenanigans. I am going to end this misery. I am going to go right down the middle.

But then, would you believe it, so do they.

Why.

The Avengers- Something Of A Review

I hated the Tim Burton Batman movies, but I loved the Nolan ones. I don’t know when it happened, but somehow the taste for “fantasy” creeped out of me. Perhaps it was because I grew up a Batman fan, and everything about him was so… human. But the first “incredible” superheroes that were presented in a “credible” way were X-Men and Spiderman, two cartoons I religiously avoided. If I could enjoy those movies, surely there was hope?

But I was still always concerned about the Avengers project. Iron Man came out, and I became an instant Robbie Downey Jr. fan. The Incredible Hulk reboot was also very enjoyable. By the time Iron Man 2 came out, we all knew about the Avengers project. It annoyed me because that would involve placing the “credible” Iron Man (yes, even with his out-of-this-world technology) into the “incredible” world of green monsters and Norse gods. I cringed a bit at the time.

But I let the excitement build, even if it festered with my doubt. I knew the basic premise… they would be recruited, they would falter, then they would come together as a team to avert a global catastrophe. That is taken for granted. It was how they would do it that was my concern, could they keep my attention, and would each hero be given his due.

After all, it felt like a couple of movies were made just with this one in mind. So I thought, what the hell? At least I’ll get to see more of Sam Jackson than just a small teaser clip at the end of the previous movies.

But they did make good of it. And I was pleasantly surprised. There was enough emotion to go around, something I was worried would be sorely missed. We had the conflicted soldier complex of Captain America, a counterpoint to the renegade of funk that Tony Stark was. Both of them didn’t see eye-to-eye. We had the reserved Bruce Banner who wanted nothing to do with them. There was a romantic tension with Romanov and Barton that was more taut than a bowstring (see what I did there). There is the weight of the world on Nick Fury. There is the maniacal Loki who is bent on revenge, and I’m not certain anything else. I’m not sure what Thor brings to the table other than a big hammer, but it seems that Robin lady’s sitcom career wasn’t a waste after all because she landed a role in this movie.

Apart from that was a heavy dose of good action, which is hard to come by because we are so spoiled with all kinds of brilliant action pieces that we become kind of desensitized to it all. The film starts slowly (after an initial action packed bang, that was to be expected) with several references to previous movies that have you excitedly saying “Ooo, that’s the thing from Thor!” or “They told that in The Incredible Hulk, remember?” and “Oh yes, that comes all the way from Nazi days in Captain America!”.  And also the recruitment process. This is not a bad thing, because it allowed for a lot of banter to take place- Tony Stark, of course, being the king of banter. Then comes the typical scattering, accompanied by a big action scene, where the heroes are distraught, and there is a lot of emotion here. And it is handled well. And finally the big kaboom when they decide to come together as a team, and Sam Jackson does not get eaten by a shark.

Now the thing about superhero movies is that the entire city or world has to be on the edge of doom. Otherwise, it’s no fun. In Batman Begins, Gotham was on the verge of destruction. In The Dark Knight it is arguable that even more was at stake. In all Spiderman movies, New York stood on the threshold of annihilation. Iron Man had problems with doomsday technology. Earth was going to be overrun by Frost Giants in Thor. Watchmen had the world poised on the brink of nuclear war. Hulk had to stop a giant scary beast from tearing apart Harlem in his movie. And Captain America… sorry, I was dead drunk for that one. But he beat up a lot of Nazis, so like, whatever. The point is, global catastrophes have become the order of the day, because anything less will fail to capture our destroyed attention spans for more than 2 seconds. Every life has to hang in the balance, or why the f**k do we need a superhero? In this case, however, a global catastrophe is DEMANDED by the sheer scale of things. And we are given one, one that is built across the span of at least 2 prior movies (Thor and Captain America). Everything has its place, everything fits.

The special effects are, as expected, amazing. When Romanov tells Banner and Captain that “its going to get hard to breathe in a minute”, and you think the boat is a submarine, but a second later you realize its not… these kind of things are what you love about these movies. And the action is beautiful. Not overcooked and unintelligible like certain Michael Bay movies. It is REALLY good. The big final fight where all the Avengers are working together is marvelous. And it really is a sweet cap on a truly excellent superhero movie.


My doubt can finally rest peacefully. I can finally look forward to the final Batman movie.

How Girls Are Different For Boys (told in rage comics)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Legend Is Legendary

Adzilla: IndiGo's Musical Ad

I know, this one is a little old, but I can't not pay attention to it.

Wow! What a blockbuster ad!

IndiGo Airlines releases this ad to announce their new international flights. The ad is in the form of a musical, starring the pilot and all his supporting crew, including ground staff, control room staff, and charming air hostesses. They all sing about the efficiency and international reach of the airlines. And if you haven't seen it yet, you simply must watch the ad here.

Grand. What a beautiful Broadway feel. The coreography is excellent, and the dancers are superb. The air hostesses are really hot. The stage design is wonderful, with a beautiful use of bright lights and complementing colors (blues, blacks, browns, golds...). The cinematography is great, like the quick zoom-ins at certain points. The music and the lyrics are catchy (the song is inspired by the number "I Am The Very Model of a Modern Major General" from the 1983 Gilbert & Sullivan operetta "The Pirates of Penzance"). The TVC has been shot in Los Angeles, directed by Steven Antin, director of the Christina Aguilera musical feature Burlesque, and choreographed by Denise Faye of Chicago fame. This is a highly entertaining ad.

I love the grandiosity, which is obviously tongue-in-cheek. The use of grandeur to relay a simple message has always been to me a humorous thing, and subtly so. In the meantime, the ad broadcasts its message of the international flights and relays with panache and utmost style the message of the complete efficiency of all its staff, metaphorized by the minute detail and synchronization of a musical. I am reminded of their previous ad which I also liked, the "Conveyor Belt" TVC that again metaphorized their efficiency quite creatively. But if I liked that ad, then I love this one (and yes, I am a fan of Glee).

The target audience, in my opinion, seems to be the "upper" middle class (which I say for lack of a better term). I mean to say the educated middle class that is indoctrinated enough with Western culture. (Please excuse the use of the word "upper," I did not mean to sound conceited). The "Star World" class, if you will. They are the ones who would benefit most from this communication, the ones who can afford this service, and would most likely be the only ones understanding this communication.

So let's break it down:

Good:

• Very creative. Rises high above the clutter. I cannot praise enough the execution of this ad. I love it. (And that's what matters the most).
• Effective use of the metaphor of choreographed precision to make an entertaining ad and get across a message.
• The humor is there in the delivery. An entire musical? It's a bit much, yes? Perhaps that's the point.
• Hot air hostesses. I mean really hot. And the smiles they give.
• Choreography. Set design. Cinematography. Lyrics and song. Very crisp (they did get some of the best to help). 

Bad:

• It's too "English." While getting the words was no problem for me, not everyone got more than a few words here and there. Such was the opinion expressed by much of the ad fraternity. It raises the question, who exactly is the ad for? The message may be missed.
• The ad is too Hollywood. Too Broadway. Granted the song is taken from a Broadway musical, but does it strike a chord with a majority of the Indian public (even keeping in mind the target audience)? Probably a Bollywood version would have resonated with the TG more, and a wider audience as well. Subtitles could have helped too (another widely expressed opinion).
• They don't talk enough about the international flights! Where do they go? It's left to the consumer to find that out. But perhaps it was a small (a very large small) sacrifice to make to keep the integrity of the ad).

The agency was Wieden+Kennedy. Read more insights from professionals about this ad from here, here, and here.

Porngate? What A Fail

Indian politicians are the biggest attention-seekers in the world. They get attention even when they don't want it.

A few days ago (8th Feb), three Karnataka BJP ministers (now ex-ministers) were caught watching porn on a mobile phone during an assembly debate.

My immediate reaction was one of hilarity. Getting caught watching porn, that too during an assembly debate? Classic. It also proved irrevocably to me that:

\m/ BOYS WILL BE BOYS \m/

A media storm ensued after that. The three ministers- CC Patil, Laxman Savadi, and Krishna Palemar- stepped down to save face for their party, because the BJP would not force them to as a matter of principle (as if we can't see right through that). Patil is in fact the minister for women and child development. The hilarity doesn't end there: Savadi went so far as to cut the lights in his constituency so his people wouldn't watch news coverage of his innocent, I mean indecent, act. When he allowed electricity to return in the night, the cable was predictably still out. And he still maintains that they were mainly doing "research" on what rave parties were all about. (And millions of little boys around the world are on their way to becoming anatomy experts as well).

The media has not dropped this. Why should they? It's fodder to fill in between news about the UP State Polls and updates on Yuvraj Singh's health. It's gold! Who doesn't love a good porn controversy, particularly the so-called conservatives that are we Indians?

The timing couldn't have been more perfect either. Porn had a huge promotional run just recently when Sunny Leone was a guest on Big Boss.

But let's get serious for a second: all this hoopla, all this condemnation from all corners, all this rushing to take the high moral ground... it's boring.

First of all, I DON'T CARE IF THEY WERE WATCHING PORN. I mean, sure, it's funny, but who gives a crap? What does worry me is that they weren't paying attention during a supposedly important debate. What does worry me is that is what my taxes are going for. I don't care if he was jerking off or solving a Rubik's cube, I want my elected representatives to fucking PAY ATTENTION in assembely. Because if they're not doing their job, the country is continuing to deteriorate. This, according to me, should be the real issue. But everyone seems more concerned about the content of the mobile.

Second, I don't understand all this hulabaloo over getting the ministers to quit. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they were efficient ministers. So does this tiny little act undermine their abilities so much? Do they by default become completely inept? I understand that ministers are supposed to be "model leaders," but no matter from which part of the world people come from, their DNA is almost the same, and boys will be boys. I'm more worried about ministers who have people murdered. Who openly rape the people's resources, who steal our money. I'm worried about completely inept officials in positions of power, just waiting for the next paycheck to come. I'd take 10 porn-watching but effective officials over a corrupt, inept bastard any day.

Meh. It's all about having ammo against the opposition anyway. In another rib-tickling twist, Karnataka ritualistically sends out "moral police" to harass couples on occasions like Valentines Day. They have a pretty low tolerance for open displays of affection or even attraction to the opposite sex, because that's so unnatural. And here we have three of their sons depicting the most human nature possible. After all, "to deny our most basic impulse is to deny the very thing that makes us human."

It kind of makes me think. And then it just makes me laugh again.

The Perils of Supporting Manchester United

Wannabes. Glory hunters. Idiots.

And these are some of the nice terms that Utd fans are often greeted with. I cannot imagine the plight of Utd supporter in England, especially during these trying times, but that of one on the subcontinent isn't a walk in the park either, and the derision we face in India shows no sign of abating.

Ah, but fuck that. Glory glory Man Utd. What a team! What a club! What a history, what a legacy. It's all there... pride, trophies, flair, and yes the inevitable arrogance. Oh, I'm sorry, that's the wrong word.

It is only natural to hate a rival club, and Utd has plenty (of rivals). It is also only natural to hate the champions when your team are not they. However, this makes for a unique situation in India. What right do we have to declare love and devotion to an English football team? We have no local nor familial (inherited support, like our children will have) obligation to support the club. We are thousands of miles away, far removed from the cold and the rain and the chants of rival supporters. Add to that the fact that in India, the first match that most people have seen is that fateful '99 Champions League final, which Utd clinched in the dying minutes, immediately creating a huge fanbase here. That's how a lot of people started watching and supporting Utd. Those were David Beckham's greatest days for the club. One of the first "rock star" footballers of the new millenium, he became a brand ambassador for Utd, with many people learning about him before they learned about the club. And thus began the propogation of Utd fandom across Asia and India in particular.

That got the ball rolling. Which is why Utd supporters are broadly classified into two categories: 1. The fans who began supporting thanks to that match, who didn't know anything about football. 2. The glory-hunters and the wannabes who support Man Utd because everyone else does. Because it's "cool" to support Utd.

In my time in Mysore, I was hanging around the basketball court when I overheard two people in conversation. One seemed a level-headed chap, the other seemed a twat. Guess if you can guess which was which. The conversation went something like this:
A: (in a heavily accented and annoying voice) "I just hate ManU, you know. I will take bets against them, I will lose money, I don't care, but I just hate them."
B: "Yeah. Actually they have a lot of fans."
A: "Yaaaa, and you know that's the reason I hate them so much..."

Hmm. Thanks a lot, asshole. You broadly sum up most Utd-haters. And your willingness to lose money just to make a point- highly admirable! I wish you'd've taken some bets with me. Cocksucker.

The ABUs (Anyone But United), united only in their common hatred for Utd. Which is understandable.

The persecution from these creatures starts at the basest level. Why do we support Utd? They see us as bandwagon-hopping glory hunters, and nothing more. It's a vicious cycle for them: Utd has many supporters, that's why so many people support Utd, which adds to their fanbase, and so on. It's as if supporting any other team would qualify us to a certain basic respect that doesn't come with supporting Utd. It hardly crosses their mind that maybe we, like many people, started supporting a team for arbitrary reasons in the beginning, but came to understand and appreciate them. But no one takes us seriously. Not a Utd supporter.

Second most important, they hate our history. They hate when we bring it up. They accuse us, after every loss or hiccup in form, of hiding behind our history. Okay. It's not our fault that our club has such a marvelous history. Such jealousy boils within our rivals that they jump as if scalded every time they even hear the number "19." How dare we ever bring that up? Liverpool used to be the team with history. What gets them is that that's all they have now. They once told us to come back when we have 18 (Premier League titles). We now have one more. So they take pride in reminding us that they have 5 European Cups, while we only have 3. So much for not hiding behind history. Got knocked off your fuckin' perch, didn't you scousers? And then there are clubs like Chelsea, who have even less of a history than Liverpool, and very little of a present to speak of, whose fans claim not to care about history. That's a very pretty and convenient excuse. But you will be so kind as to forgive us for being proud of our history. And just to keep it recent for your sake, in the last 5 years we still have more trophies than you've had managers- and that's saying something.

Speaking of which, another reason for their hate is another reason for our pride: yes, Manchester United is a one man team, but that man is Sir Alex Ferguson. And they HATE Sir Alex, more than they hate our history and all our trophies combined. He's an arrogant, pompous son of a bitch. He bans media reporters, he only answers soft-ball questions, he influences refs, he tells the England manager that he doesn't want his boys to play, he get's extra time at Old Trafford when he needs it, and he seems to dictate dubious decisions. He is a force of evil. How else could he have remained manager of a single team for a quarter of a century, a feat unheard of in these tough times? How else could he have won 12 Premier League titles, more than some clubs? He must be strong with the Dark Side of the Force. But I'm glad that he's on our side.

Tick tock, ref, tick tock...

Player scuffles happen, because millionaire egos clash in the dressing room. Some of these players are kids. But the Gaffer always maintains that the Club is bigger than any player, as it should be. Then came Rooneygate, in October of 2010, where he claimed the "club had no ambition." This was a shocker, especially given the friendly relationship between Rooney and Sir Alex. It was, perhaps, and agent induced kerfuffle. Rooney agreed to stay and was given a pay raise, something rival fans are quick to keep us from forgetting. So which was it? Did Sir Alex swallow his pride and concede to Wayne's demands, or was Wayne confused because some caustic components were whispering poison in his ears? The fact is, we can only speculate. For me, whatever the case may be, his drastic improvement in pitch performance and utter devotion to the team has earned my forgiveness, sealed with that emphatic bicycle kick at Old Trafford against Manchester City in the same season. So when he kisses the badge, I believe it. Haters do not.

Rooney is a Red, at lest for now. So be afraid.

And now we come to the competition. The Blue Moon rising. Where to start. For years they have been the underachieving little brother. From across town. Suddenly Manchester City FC finds itself rolling in a sheikh's oil money and chock full of big stars with a successful Italian coach at their head. And now they are winning. Why wouldn't they, with stellar talent in the form of players like Sergio Aguero, son-in-law of the legendary Diego Maradonna; David Silva, one of the best midfielders in the league; Mario Ballotelli, a black Italian with behavioral issues and a mean streak.

The man behind the Blue Wave, Roberto Mancini.

Stellar talent, no doubt. Aguero, Balotelli, and Silva. Any team would be envious.

They are a force to reckon with. This season they have already beat us at Old Trafford by the embarassing scoreline of 1-6, and currently lead the table on points. And this is a fact that we are constantly reminded about. What gives them more glee is that it is the once upon a time retarded little brother that now seems to be calling shots in Manchester. And suddenly the City fans have come out of the woodwork. It's a bit sad the way they love a Utd loss more than a victory for their own side, whoever it may be.

Liverpool beat us 2-1 in the FA Cup this season. To lose to rivals is a horrible thing. Because we then face all kinds of dubious insinuations. And the ribbing is caustic and non-stop. It's a very special thing, and rival fans use it with the utmost glee. I suppose I can't blame them: defeating Utd IS a special thing.

Just recently we drew Chelsea at Stamford Bridge 3-3, coming back from 3-0 down. We had the help of two penalty calls, by none other than our savior, Howard Webb, top English referee. The accusations are rife and endless: Howard Webb is a Manchester United man. He always gives decisions in favor of Utd. He always helps Utd win. He always gives Utd more injury time so they can score a winner or an equalizer at OT. Sir Alex himself is supposed to have a magical control over all referees (except maybe Martin Atkinson). This notion, is of course rubbish. Rarely will they remember decisions that went against Utd. The penalties in question, however soft, were indeed penalties. The overall quality of refereeing these days is shown in a bad light altogether, with the media hyping every single bad or dubious call, but this constant whining and complaining about how certain referees support and protect Utd (or any other club, for that matter) is annoying and childish. I personally hate it when decisions go against my team (like Atkinson's refereeing in the reverse fixture of last season), but I also hate it when we win dubious challenges. Such sanity is never extended when dealing with a Devil, I'm afraid. The mob comes with pitchforks and torches to burn us at the stake.

Hold your cliched accusations till the end.

So their you have it. Utd fans are subject to a variety of disproportionate hate crimes, from ill-humored ribbing to blatant and arbitrary labelling as wannabes and worse.

Oh, but what to do. We support Man Utd. Manchester fucking United. The Red Devils. Oh baby, what a team. From the Busby Babes to the Fergie Fledglings, inspiration and triumph is everywhere you look. They are relentless. Your players may make money; ours make history. We are not arrogant, just better. Utd has given me so much, but one of the most important things is the power to B.E.L.I.E.V.E.

And that is a wonderful gift. No matter at what stage of the match it is, I NEVER LOSE FAITH. Last season we were down 2-0 to Aston Villa. When Macheda came on and bolted a strike in to make it 2-1, I was waiting for 2-3, not 2-2. Just recently against Chelsea, when we were down 3-0, I didn't give up. I sat up and waited for us to get equal, and the goals came one by one. Even on Black Sunday, when City had us pegged 1-3 at OT down and we lost Johnny Evans to a red card, I did not waver. The first two matches did indeed end up a draw, and we all know what happened with the last one. But this ability to BELIEVE in the face of sheer defeat is a gift Utd has given me, and something I am able to carry beyond football. What a magnificent thing.

And then there is just the pure joy of watching Manchester United play. What a beautiful high, to see that lovely attacking football. I love every one of those boys playing in that shirt. Yes, this thing with Utd has turned into a real love affair over the years. It is a privilege and a treat to watch them play. That never-say-die attitude which has become synonymous with brand Utd is massive. How do I thank them for this? For that unbeatable high and joy of watching Manchester United play football?

The haters will hate. That's what they do. They will pick and prod and point and grab at anything to pull you down, but that spirit is unshakable. Jealousy blinds and hatred stupefies, they will insinuate and accuse but they may never know that feeling, and for that they must be excused. Perhaps even pitied. And we LOVE your hate. It makes us stronger. It makes Manchester United who they are. Fuck yeah, it's the world against us. Give us hell.

So go on, label me. Insult me. Hate me.

We are The Red Devils, and we will march on.