Get yourself on The Ark!
...fine, I sincerely apologize for that. I just couldn't help myself. It was just so...I know, I know...OK, I'm sorry. Deeply sorry.
But the are that good. I'm moving to Sweden and becoming a groupie. A free track here.
But just buy the album.
If the world was right, "Hey Kwanogoma!" AND "Clamour for Glamour" AND "One of Us Is Gonna Die Young"(the free song above) would be the song of the summer.
Thank me in the comments.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Monday, May 01, 2006
My Pinko Card Expired...
...obviously, as is evidenced by the fact that it's nearly midnight (here), and I haven't put up a happy May Day post. I'll call it a strategic choice, which my safety in mind, seeing as there is generally a strong distaste for those even remotely associated with Marx. And that distaste comes from two opposing groups here, one well armed, the other crazy. Getting those two factions to unite as they hunt me down in the hills of Hazarajat wouldn't be good. Nonetheless, my 18 year-old self would be ashamed of my 28 year-old self.
Perhaps more importantly (and in dismissing the holiday celebrated around the world), and definately quite interestingly, as N-mode points out, today is Natonal Law Day. And yeah, so he's right on how lame it is. (Any significance to them choosing May Day to celebrate Law Day in the US?) BUT, he also found that the ABA site lets you buy Law Day t-shirts.
Take a look at those law-day revolutionaries. Soon the masses will be taking the streets and chanting "Our heritage of liberty under the law and the rule of law makes our democracy possible!", as the ABA suggests. And you don't even have to silk screen these t-shirts in the basement of your punk-house.
One click-shopping...take that 18 year-old self!
P.S. Completely foiled by blogger, or perhaps the powers that be conspiring to make a point, some javascript error wouldn't let me publish the post on May Day...
Perhaps more importantly (and in dismissing the holiday celebrated around the world), and definately quite interestingly, as N-mode points out, today is Natonal Law Day. And yeah, so he's right on how lame it is. (Any significance to them choosing May Day to celebrate Law Day in the US?) BUT, he also found that the ABA site lets you buy Law Day t-shirts.
Take a look at those law-day revolutionaries. Soon the masses will be taking the streets and chanting "Our heritage of liberty under the law and the rule of law makes our democracy possible!", as the ABA suggests. And you don't even have to silk screen these t-shirts in the basement of your punk-house.
One click-shopping...take that 18 year-old self!
P.S. Completely foiled by blogger, or perhaps the powers that be conspiring to make a point, some javascript error wouldn't let me publish the post on May Day...
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
I'll write something about Kabul in the...eh...nevermind.
I’ve never really been tempted to start a myspace site. It’s bad enough that I’ve entered the realm of bloggers, but myspace is a whole new low (unless, of course, you’re just trying to get some). But they have those band sites, such as BTS’s, and more importantly you can stream music.
This is only now pertinent cause I found a theme song. And this is only relevant cause I’m name-dropping another new album. I finally got around to downloading the new Madlib album. I know, I know, it’s a shameful fact. I mean, the dude named a pseudonym after me, and I don’t have enough gratitude to buy each and every thing he puts out (and dude has diarrhea of the DAT) as soon as he puts it out. Add to that the fact that he’s pure genius, and the best beat maker (I mean, konducta, beat konducta) on the face of the earth. The best.
So...too little too late, but, he’s released a new album, ‘Beat Konducta Vol. 1-2: Movie Scenes’. More importantly, he’s dropped the track "Electric Company (Voltage-Watts)" (warning, that’s the iTunes link). The deep ‘electric hum’ that serves as a bass line, the clicking train track beat that evokes a meter switches deep in the generator, the interspersed warning chime/bell, and the monotone 50’s ‘electric company’ voice sample...all that, make for a perfect soundtrack to the current work.
It’s not even the best track on the album.
P.S. There is even a track with cowbell on it! Come on everyone, all together now: I need more...
This is only now pertinent cause I found a theme song. And this is only relevant cause I’m name-dropping another new album. I finally got around to downloading the new Madlib album. I know, I know, it’s a shameful fact. I mean, the dude named a pseudonym after me, and I don’t have enough gratitude to buy each and every thing he puts out (and dude has diarrhea of the DAT) as soon as he puts it out. Add to that the fact that he’s pure genius, and the best beat maker (I mean, konducta, beat konducta) on the face of the earth. The best.
So...too little too late, but, he’s released a new album, ‘Beat Konducta Vol. 1-2: Movie Scenes’. More importantly, he’s dropped the track "Electric Company (Voltage-Watts)" (warning, that’s the iTunes link). The deep ‘electric hum’ that serves as a bass line, the clicking train track beat that evokes a meter switches deep in the generator, the interspersed warning chime/bell, and the monotone 50’s ‘electric company’ voice sample...all that, make for a perfect soundtrack to the current work.
It’s not even the best track on the album.
P.S. There is even a track with cowbell on it! Come on everyone, all together now: I need more...
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Circling Towards Summer
It’s hard to have your nerves frayed when the weather is as amazing as it is currently in Kabul. But I think a lot of the expats on our team are in such a state; partly from the project and work itself, and partly from the upswing in attacks and violence.
There was this past week’s rocket attack close to the embassy. Luckily the house I’m in is quite some distance from there, 2-3km or so. I was up at the time and went to look at the smoke plume with a housemate that woke up. I think my skills at sleeping through earthquakes would extend to rocket attacks too. So it’s reassuring to know that my housemate in the room across from is a light sleeper.
Then just a few days ago, our security director walked in to dinner a few minutes late, reporting that there was another attack. A co-worker in the house quite close to the embassy and ISAF had called him reporting a blast and hearing ISAF sound the alarm. (We found out later it was just a gas cylinder that had gone off.) Our Chief immediately started discussing and working out the logistics of getting all the staff into the (safer, distance from target wise) house I live in. Then after about two minutes, and a few sighs, we all carried on, thick with sarcasm, insulting and ribbing each other and everything else as usual. The next day, when the other co-workers were to move to our house, not one decided to bother.
I’d like to think that decision was made because the spring weather brings hope.
P.S. In the past few months, whenever I would hear, or hear about attacks or gunfire or such, my thoughts would always soon race to the nationals and locals that live with this in much different circumstances than us well-walled expats, and moreover many of whom who lived through much worse for many years. I realized just a few days ago, even after reading about the Afghan national that was killed in the recent attack, that I didn’t pay much mind to the national’s/local’s situation. I’m far from settled on how I feel about this fact. Since in many ways, it was a patronizing empathy, but in the least it was an empathy, however misplaced or misguided or mis-rooted it may have been. And it’s absence implies some callousness and/or complacency towards certain things. Yet those two things, in then end, are somewhat useful in this environment.
... next time I write a paragraph like the above, I’m just gonna do a big circle flow diagram, with an appropriate legend. It’ll be easier to read and likely make the callousness point that much more strongly...
There was this past week’s rocket attack close to the embassy. Luckily the house I’m in is quite some distance from there, 2-3km or so. I was up at the time and went to look at the smoke plume with a housemate that woke up. I think my skills at sleeping through earthquakes would extend to rocket attacks too. So it’s reassuring to know that my housemate in the room across from is a light sleeper.
Then just a few days ago, our security director walked in to dinner a few minutes late, reporting that there was another attack. A co-worker in the house quite close to the embassy and ISAF had called him reporting a blast and hearing ISAF sound the alarm. (We found out later it was just a gas cylinder that had gone off.) Our Chief immediately started discussing and working out the logistics of getting all the staff into the (safer, distance from target wise) house I live in. Then after about two minutes, and a few sighs, we all carried on, thick with sarcasm, insulting and ribbing each other and everything else as usual. The next day, when the other co-workers were to move to our house, not one decided to bother.
I’d like to think that decision was made because the spring weather brings hope.
P.S. In the past few months, whenever I would hear, or hear about attacks or gunfire or such, my thoughts would always soon race to the nationals and locals that live with this in much different circumstances than us well-walled expats, and moreover many of whom who lived through much worse for many years. I realized just a few days ago, even after reading about the Afghan national that was killed in the recent attack, that I didn’t pay much mind to the national’s/local’s situation. I’m far from settled on how I feel about this fact. Since in many ways, it was a patronizing empathy, but in the least it was an empathy, however misplaced or misguided or mis-rooted it may have been. And it’s absence implies some callousness and/or complacency towards certain things. Yet those two things, in then end, are somewhat useful in this environment.
... next time I write a paragraph like the above, I’m just gonna do a big circle flow diagram, with an appropriate legend. It’ll be easier to read and likely make the callousness point that much more strongly...
Monday, April 17, 2006
Seeking Srinagar
On this last visit to Pakistan, my father, mother and I went to Faislabad/Lailpur. My dad had studied and taught there years ago. Had he stayed in Pakistan, he would have likely taught there for years on end, as his classmates and former co-workers who he went to go visit there did. They asked him to come back for a month for a stint as a visiting professor. This, which he is contemplating, launched the line of conversation about why he left, and emigrating and such between him and his old friends (who have children abroad now, and have visited them).
This, of course, brought the conversation to a salient point for me, and my choice to come back to this part of the world to work, and my contemplating finding a job for a few years around these parts. My dad’s friends, of course, thought it was somewhat ironic that I chose to come back here to work, Kabul too rather than Lahore or Karachi or Dehli or Banglore or such. So one of his friends decided to relate a joke he heard second-hand from his son when he last visited him in America.
After the trip back to the ‘watan’ and a recent conversation with a friend about somewhat similar throes they find themselves in, the issue has become more prominent. With the rising of India and the subcontinent, the rebuilding of Afghanistan, I’m sure a lot more folks are in similar straits too, as the options and opportunities for and benefits and value in returning for many 2nd gen folks have increased in these parts (parallels probably apply to China too as one of my college buddies is pursuing that right now). And I think this situation is separate from the “reverse brain-drain” of foreign students in the west electing to not pursue a life in the west. This is particular to 2nd gen folks electing to return to their “watan” or “Kashmir” (as Hamesha related a wonderfully apt pathan proverb in a recent comment).
The joke (retold with my special ability to make everything not funny) goes:
A man had been in paradise for some “time” now; all rivers of milk and honey, rolling green hills, gardens, serenity and peace and beauty. One day, kinda bored of all this routine paradise, he goes for a stroll. He came up the gates of paradise, and caught a glimpse of the other side. Raucous fun they were having in Hell; all partying and dancing and gambling and films and women and drinking—all things debauchery and fun.
So he asked the gate-keeper for a visit, and was told to put in an application for a visit. The application snakes its way up the bureaucratic machinery, finally to the higher authority, stamped and approved. Tourist visa in hand, the man crosses the gates, and has an un-righteously good time in hell—pure fun and enjoyment and rewards. The pleasures are endless. But his tour comes to an end and he leaves. Returning to oh so serene paradise, boredom, and placidity and all. He decides then and there that after a life of solemnity and steadfastness on earth, it’s time to have some fun. So his immigrant’s visa is filed. This one goes straight to God, who calls him in for his immigration interview. Only one question is asked, “are you sure you want to emigrate?” The man says yes. So he packs up his things, says his good byes and crosses the gates.
Lo and behold, it’s hell—fire and brimstone hell, demons and devils, boulders on the backs and lashes, serpents and servitude. So one day he finally makes it back to the gate-keeper and he asks, what happened to the hell that he first visited. The gate-keeper immediately starts laughing and says, “my friend, the first time you came, you came on a tourist visa, and this time my friend, you’ve come on an immigrant’s visa.”
Now my father’s friend related this joke in talking about immigrating to America, and in suggesting to my father that perhaps it’s time to come back to Pakistan. My father responded that yes, he does think about returning occasionally, and was even thinking about it on this trip back. He immediately followed that with saying (in Urdu with a poignancy that can never be truly translated) “sir, we must remember that this time, I’m in Pakistan on a tourist’s visa.” Heads nodded side to side, and a laugh was had all around.
As I think about the next few years, I need to remember what my father said that day.
This, of course, brought the conversation to a salient point for me, and my choice to come back to this part of the world to work, and my contemplating finding a job for a few years around these parts. My dad’s friends, of course, thought it was somewhat ironic that I chose to come back here to work, Kabul too rather than Lahore or Karachi or Dehli or Banglore or such. So one of his friends decided to relate a joke he heard second-hand from his son when he last visited him in America.
After the trip back to the ‘watan’ and a recent conversation with a friend about somewhat similar throes they find themselves in, the issue has become more prominent. With the rising of India and the subcontinent, the rebuilding of Afghanistan, I’m sure a lot more folks are in similar straits too, as the options and opportunities for and benefits and value in returning for many 2nd gen folks have increased in these parts (parallels probably apply to China too as one of my college buddies is pursuing that right now). And I think this situation is separate from the “reverse brain-drain” of foreign students in the west electing to not pursue a life in the west. This is particular to 2nd gen folks electing to return to their “watan” or “Kashmir” (as Hamesha related a wonderfully apt pathan proverb in a recent comment).
The joke (retold with my special ability to make everything not funny) goes:
A man had been in paradise for some “time” now; all rivers of milk and honey, rolling green hills, gardens, serenity and peace and beauty. One day, kinda bored of all this routine paradise, he goes for a stroll. He came up the gates of paradise, and caught a glimpse of the other side. Raucous fun they were having in Hell; all partying and dancing and gambling and films and women and drinking—all things debauchery and fun.
So he asked the gate-keeper for a visit, and was told to put in an application for a visit. The application snakes its way up the bureaucratic machinery, finally to the higher authority, stamped and approved. Tourist visa in hand, the man crosses the gates, and has an un-righteously good time in hell—pure fun and enjoyment and rewards. The pleasures are endless. But his tour comes to an end and he leaves. Returning to oh so serene paradise, boredom, and placidity and all. He decides then and there that after a life of solemnity and steadfastness on earth, it’s time to have some fun. So his immigrant’s visa is filed. This one goes straight to God, who calls him in for his immigration interview. Only one question is asked, “are you sure you want to emigrate?” The man says yes. So he packs up his things, says his good byes and crosses the gates.
Lo and behold, it’s hell—fire and brimstone hell, demons and devils, boulders on the backs and lashes, serpents and servitude. So one day he finally makes it back to the gate-keeper and he asks, what happened to the hell that he first visited. The gate-keeper immediately starts laughing and says, “my friend, the first time you came, you came on a tourist visa, and this time my friend, you’ve come on an immigrant’s visa.”
Now my father’s friend related this joke in talking about immigrating to America, and in suggesting to my father that perhaps it’s time to come back to Pakistan. My father responded that yes, he does think about returning occasionally, and was even thinking about it on this trip back. He immediately followed that with saying (in Urdu with a poignancy that can never be truly translated) “sir, we must remember that this time, I’m in Pakistan on a tourist’s visa.” Heads nodded side to side, and a laugh was had all around.
As I think about the next few years, I need to remember what my father said that day.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Making The Runs
And I mean that in every sense of the word "runs". Got sick from the wedding food the day before I was to leave. So I did get to spend some quality time with the parents and sis as I was bedridden. Followed by a 4 hour car ride up to Islamabad at 2 am. I caught the flight, and my stomach survived.
Had a wonderful time. Saw the family, almost the whole lot of them. And there is a whole lot of them.
Welcomed some more folks into the family. Some crazy desis, and some crazy "pakhtoons" (two cousins got married in one week). When I saw the barat of one wedding coming and it was about 10 men in white shalwars and black waistcoats, for a second, I thought I was back in Kabul. It was urdu/punjabi and pushto bantered all around. Got to see some places I hadn't been in 15 years (my dad's childhood house).
Most importantly, my mom brought me my new speakers. They are divine. I can actually hear bass lines now.
Perhaps even more importantly, I really had a sense of ease when coming back to Kabul this time. I was not only happy, but even a bit relieved to be back, the kind of relief you get when coming back home. I think I'm really gonna miss this place (or more correctly the compound and the little else I see) when I finally have to leave.
Had a wonderful time. Saw the family, almost the whole lot of them. And there is a whole lot of them.
Welcomed some more folks into the family. Some crazy desis, and some crazy "pakhtoons" (two cousins got married in one week). When I saw the barat of one wedding coming and it was about 10 men in white shalwars and black waistcoats, for a second, I thought I was back in Kabul. It was urdu/punjabi and pushto bantered all around. Got to see some places I hadn't been in 15 years (my dad's childhood house).
Most importantly, my mom brought me my new speakers. They are divine. I can actually hear bass lines now.
Perhaps even more importantly, I really had a sense of ease when coming back to Kabul this time. I was not only happy, but even a bit relieved to be back, the kind of relief you get when coming back home. I think I'm really gonna miss this place (or more correctly the compound and the little else I see) when I finally have to leave.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Ashes to Ashes, Diesel to Dust
So a few days in the Watan...my Watan (homeland, I believe in Dari or Pustho). A few days to go. Its been dusty, and not too hot, just around 100F. Pleny of donkey carts, rikshaws, lorries with beautiful decorations, beautiful to someone at least...and dust. Plenty of dust. And dancing monkeys. Ahh Punjab. Yesterday I was in Faislabad (aka Lailpur) that is punjab central, even had a tandoori pratha. But luckily, not too much on the deisel fumes. My cigarettes are tasting funny here.
Untill a few days...q.a.
Untill a few days...q.a.
Friday, April 07, 2006
Luckily We Have Armed Guards
Else, my off-key tone-deaf singing, and the impending rioting of our neighbors would be an issue. Our secruity director and his 9 is a concern. But he wouldn't shoot a man with a grin as big as mine is right now, I hope.
So more Built To Spill:
Doug Martsch is around the 40 mark after all, so I guess it's not surprising that he chose VH1 over MTV. VH1 is supposedly streaming the new album. Frustratingly, it wont play for me.
But, alas, all is not lost. I'm quite content with either streaming 'Conventional Wisdom' from the BTS myspace site.
And since I have some concern for my coworkers and our shared bandwidth, I've been listening to 'Liar' (a demo, I believe cause of the vocal reverb effect on the beginning). Find it here. Found it thanks to this site.
Hopefully Warner Bros. realized that I'll be in Lahore on the Apr. 11th release date and is shipping copies to the music stores there. Well...at least there is iTunes.
So more Built To Spill:
Doug Martsch is around the 40 mark after all, so I guess it's not surprising that he chose VH1 over MTV. VH1 is supposedly streaming the new album. Frustratingly, it wont play for me.
But, alas, all is not lost. I'm quite content with either streaming 'Conventional Wisdom' from the BTS myspace site.
And since I have some concern for my coworkers and our shared bandwidth, I've been listening to 'Liar' (a demo, I believe cause of the vocal reverb effect on the beginning). Find it here. Found it thanks to this site.
Hopefully Warner Bros. realized that I'll be in Lahore on the Apr. 11th release date and is shipping copies to the music stores there. Well...at least there is iTunes.
A minor change
So on the sidebar section "Kabul Blogs" has been changed to the more appropriate "Kabul & Related Blogs."
And two new blogs have been thrown up, Hamesha's and Home In Kabul.
And two new blogs have been thrown up, Hamesha's and Home In Kabul.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Owing to Acknowledgement
sorryPart of the, umm, inspiration for the last post was a few conversations, recent reading, and a comment posted by Hamesha pointing me to Easterly.
And today I came across this article in Salon.com, an interview with Easterly about his new book.
P.S. And in acknowledging my complete failings in acknowledging, VP pointed me to a review of Easterly's new book in the Economist a few days back. Unfortunately it's subscription only. Also, in the post below, I think I said I was going to talk about the aggravated situation in the south, and the rising violence. VP has recently posted on that already, so I'll just point you there for how that affects working conditions here, especially as she's more directly affected by it than I am.
P.P.S: VP just posted the review here.
And today I came across this article in Salon.com, an interview with Easterly about his new book.
P.S. And in acknowledging my complete failings in acknowledging, VP pointed me to a review of Easterly's new book in the Economist a few days back. Unfortunately it's subscription only. Also, in the post below, I think I said I was going to talk about the aggravated situation in the south, and the rising violence. VP has recently posted on that already, so I'll just point you there for how that affects working conditions here, especially as she's more directly affected by it than I am.
P.P.S: VP just posted the review here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)