Scared. Excited. Worried. Holding my breath. Vacillating. Eager. Confident. Guarded. Unsure. Prepared. Nowhere near it. Determined. Nervous. Like steel. Irrational. Frantic. Tired. Impatient. Absolutely scatterbrained. Bubbling. Bursting. Petrified. On the edge. Back. On the edge again.
I've waited 12 years to feel exactly like this. And I can't wait one minute longer. Ladakh, here I come.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
**********
Abraham ben Samuel Abulafia or Abulafia was a thirteenth century Jewish scholar and philosopher. Among all of his deeply philosophical pursuits and passions, he had this obsessive belief that alphabets, numerals, vowel-points and their infinite permutations hid the purpose of human existence and the “truth”.
Umberto Eco wrote this incredible book called Focault’s Pendulum. Now related to as the intelligent man’s Da Vinci Code (I got this from Wikipedia!), the book is about these three nerdy editors who think they’ve stumbled upon the truth of the universe and get into a world of trouble and, of course, adventure! One of three editor has a computer, or a “Word Processor”, that he called Abulafia.
This guy (for the frailty of memory, lets call him Bob) is a really interesting character. He believes, like a lot of others, that the true name of God is one particular combination of the several million characters of the Torah. And that Abulafia and Basic Programming (can you believe this!) could be the key to cracking the right combination of God’s name. In other words, the “Password” to the truth.
The third editor (the first one is our protagonist) believes that the point of the belief that the combination of characters makes God’s name and the pursuit of finding that is to give people a purpose in life, a religious direction, and other theological implications of that. So he is completely opposed to the idea of using Abulafia for this purpose (even though both know that the piece of medieval hardware they call Abulafia would take close to 30 million years to get all the combinations in place, let alone find the right one).
So the story begins with Bob going missing. One night he calls our protagonist, the first editor, and tells him that their “Plan” or theory about the truth of the universe was true, and that the details of it were in Abulafia (all this while vacillating and scaring the large intestine out of the protagonist). Bob manages to tell the hero that his life is in grave danger (in true bollywood, no hollywood style) and hangs up, abruptly.
Our hero reaches Bob’s apartment at the speed of light, tumbles over an assortment of books, paraphernalia and other nonsense a complete nerd would have in an apartment, scampers over to Abulafia, turns it on, and wheezing like a pug with an asthma attack stares into the screen, dumbfounded.
The screen says, “Do you have the password?”
The hero has this desperate sense of urgency to save his fellow nerd (Bob). So he gets about the business of hacking into Abulafia so he can understand what Bob is really stuck in and exactly where in hell he is. He works all evening, all night, the whole of the next day, the whole of the next evening, punching password after password. He tears his hair out and that of a stuffed toy lying on a shelf next to him trying to figure out what the password could be. Names of girlfriends (not that Bob had many), dates, books, places Bob liked, absolutely everything. But each time, Abulafia returns the same answer. “Invalid password. Do you have the password?”
Just as he snubs out the last cigarette in the apartment, in a fit of utter frustration, he tries his last attempt before he puts Abulafia under a train. And he types “No”.
Abulafia flickers to life.
Evolution!
This is an article I found here.
I still can't believe there is any debate about the reality of evolution as a process in nature, but large groups of people continue to resist any form of scientific revelation. Part of the reason is no doubt related to religion, as for whatever reason, evolution and religion have been put in a cage with each other with orders to kill. Last time I checked, evolution made no claims as to how or why we got here, so there's no reason you can't have your religious beliefs at the same time you can admire a mysterious process that influences all life.
Need proof? Look no further than the Italian wall lizard, which were introduced to an island off the coast of Croatia back in 1971. Scientists placed 5 adult pairs on the island and have recently returned to see what happened. There are now 5,000 lizards running around, all genetically related to the original 5 immigrants. What could possibly have happened in only 30 years?
From National Geographic:
Pod Mrcaru, for example, had an abundance of plants for the primarily insect-eating lizards to munch on. Physically, however, the lizards were not built to digest a vegetarian diet.
Researchers found that the lizards developed cecal valves—muscles between the large and small intestine—that slowed down food digestion in fermenting chambers, which allowed their bodies to process the vegetation's cellulose into volatile fatty acids.
"They evolved an expanded gut to allow them to process these leaves," Irschick said, adding it was something that had not been documented before. "This was a brand-new structure."
Along with the ability to digest plants came the ability to bite harder, powered by a head that had grown longer and wider.
Scientists are stunned at how rapid evolution took hold and created a physical transformation of the lizard. An amazing example of evolution at work.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Reclaimation.
If you had to look back on your life, what would you remember?
The promotion? The performance bonus?
The plaque in the conference room?
It does not take supreme intelligence to know what really matters.
And yet, you do little besides look in the distance and sigh.
Wouldn't it be tragic to realise too late that you didn't see the trap? That you didn't recognise the two words that are the biggest curse of humanity... 'maybe someday'?
I'm leaving for Ladakh on 17th May, 2008.
Not on a Safari. On a Bullet.
The promotion? The performance bonus?
The plaque in the conference room?
It does not take supreme intelligence to know what really matters.
And yet, you do little besides look in the distance and sigh.
Wouldn't it be tragic to realise too late that you didn't see the trap? That you didn't recognise the two words that are the biggest curse of humanity... 'maybe someday'?
I'm leaving for Ladakh on 17th May, 2008.
Not on a Safari. On a Bullet.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Black screen. Green letters.
This feels like the computer I used in 1987. Remember those days of "Logo" and "Basic". Damn I was good with that shit! I drew a house using all those lousy commands. I was probably in 4th Class (Grade, if you like). And could barely boot a computer with DOS. And I drew a house with things like rt 45, Lt 90 etc. My computers teacher was so excited, we thought she was having a seizure.
Talking about excitable people, do you remember that guy Siddhu? Yeah the same one who swallowed the unabridged volume of English Idioms whole. If you were to stand right in front of him when he's in one of his English moods, I'm guessing, you'd have a nice shower of morning dew.
Actually, if you've ever seen Doogie Howser M.D., I guess this is exactly how he must've felt.
Ah! but you're not seeing this clump of gibberish right now like I am. Kinda like seeing the ad for a gargantuan, plasma-LDC-projection-3D television on your old EC TV (God you remember those days!).
So click here. And hit F11 once the window opens. You'll see for yourself!
Talking about excitable people, do you remember that guy Siddhu? Yeah the same one who swallowed the unabridged volume of English Idioms whole. If you were to stand right in front of him when he's in one of his English moods, I'm guessing, you'd have a nice shower of morning dew.
Actually, if you've ever seen Doogie Howser M.D., I guess this is exactly how he must've felt.
Ah! but you're not seeing this clump of gibberish right now like I am. Kinda like seeing the ad for a gargantuan, plasma-LDC-projection-3D television on your old EC TV (God you remember those days!).
So click here. And hit F11 once the window opens. You'll see for yourself!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
This is killer stuff. Part II
The song (The band: Avial, the song: Chekele or Takathara) has been used for the Ligy J. Pullappally film, "Sancharram". I've pasted a little about the film that I found here.
Sancharram (English: The Journey) (2004) is a Malayalam short-film written, directed and produced by Ligy J. Pullappally, inspired both by her short film Uli and a true story of two lesbian lovers in the South India state of Kerala.
The film follows two young friends, Kiran (Suhasini V. Nair), a Hindu, and Delilah (Shrruiti Menon), a Catholic, from their first meeting as young children to young adulthood, when they realize that they have a lifelong (lesbian) love for each other.
At first, Kiran is asked to write love letters to Delilah for Rajan (Syam Seethal) a teenage boy who also has a long-standing crush on Delilah. Kiran does so as it allows her to express her love to Delilah without having to be ostracized by her family, friends and culture. Eventually Delilah discovers the truth behind the letters and poetry, and admits her mutual love to Kiran. The begin a delicate love affair despite social taboos against homosexuality.
Their blossoming love affair is dampened severely when Rajan discovers Kiran and Delilah stealing a moment of intimacy in the jungle. He proceeds to inform Amma (Lalitha K.P.A.C.), Delilah's mother, of what he (briefly) witnessed. Amma confronts Delilah, who reveals her love for Kiran. In response, Amma arranged Delilah's marriage with a suitor who recently visited intent on seeking a bride. Delilah reluctantly consents to the marriage.
Sancharram has been compared to Deepa Mehta's Fire, a movie which also touches upon lesbian relationships in India. However, where Fire is explicit in stating that the main characters enter their relationship due to the failure of their heterosexual marriages, Sancharram is clearly a film about two lesbians who fall in love with each other.
Quote
"Dude.. don't worry about the chinkies baap..they have.. err.. tiny ching changs.."
Found this on a guy's profile on Orkut.
The writer's blogs:
http://terpsikure.blogspot.com/
http://shivakarukonda.blogspot.com
Found this on a guy's profile on Orkut.
The writer's blogs:
http://terpsikure.blogspot.com/
http://shivakarukonda.blogspot.com
Saturday, April 12, 2008
On-stage
There was this guy who was invited on-stage to present awards for a certain category at the Goafest ’08. He was the Chair of the Jury for that particular category.
He comes on stage, takes the mic for the few words he’s expected to say as the chair of the jury, in front of a crowd that’s s booing anybody choosing to actually take up that offer for talking.
He says, “I always wanted to say motherfu@#$% on stage. There, I said it.” And he hands the mic back.
He comes on stage, takes the mic for the few words he’s expected to say as the chair of the jury, in front of a crowd that’s s booing anybody choosing to actually take up that offer for talking.
He says, “I always wanted to say motherfu@#$% on stage. There, I said it.” And he hands the mic back.
Holier than thou?
Ad people are a strange lot.
I was at the Goafest about a week back. It was the most exciting festival I’ve seen in a long, long time. I love it. The sun, the parties, the unlimited alcohol, the sea, the unbridled passion for great creative work, basically everything about it. Which is exactly why I’ve been at all the three editions of the festival.
But the one thing I’ve not been able to get a fix on is how people don’t mingle. There is no animosity, or hatred (I put that a little too strongly for the loss of a better word to describe exactly what I mean). But there is that invisible boundary. A space, if you like, that cannot be breached. People are social, having fun, accommodating and all, but they just don’t mingle.
Why? Maybe it’s this deep-seated “our-work-is-better-than-yours” feeling. Or it’s that fierceness of competitive instinct and passion.
But its definitely there. Why else would even the most charming act I put up not let me land even one chick (in spite of the fact that she’s obviously interested)? Alright, I’m a little boring. But then, even the more charming guys ended up with zilch.
There is obviously something wrong. And I wonder “what it is!”
I was at the Goafest about a week back. It was the most exciting festival I’ve seen in a long, long time. I love it. The sun, the parties, the unlimited alcohol, the sea, the unbridled passion for great creative work, basically everything about it. Which is exactly why I’ve been at all the three editions of the festival.
But the one thing I’ve not been able to get a fix on is how people don’t mingle. There is no animosity, or hatred (I put that a little too strongly for the loss of a better word to describe exactly what I mean). But there is that invisible boundary. A space, if you like, that cannot be breached. People are social, having fun, accommodating and all, but they just don’t mingle.
Why? Maybe it’s this deep-seated “our-work-is-better-than-yours” feeling. Or it’s that fierceness of competitive instinct and passion.
But its definitely there. Why else would even the most charming act I put up not let me land even one chick (in spite of the fact that she’s obviously interested)? Alright, I’m a little boring. But then, even the more charming guys ended up with zilch.
There is obviously something wrong. And I wonder “what it is!”
Friday, April 11, 2008
Ever wanted more hours in a day?
Surprisingly, you can get them! And upto 6 hours extra!
Consider this, we spend a large chunk of the day sleeping. If you could change that sleeping habit, we, obviously, more hours! This does not mean depriving yourself of sleep at all.
Most adults sleep in one stretch. Kids sleep in several stretches. And infants nap all the time! Animals don’t sleep in a chunk either. That we need to sleep for 8 continuous hours was apparently a recent habitual development, before we had bulbs and the likes around.
So this girl (Rachel something) and her boyfriend decided to get to the bottom of this and see if they could stagger their sleep and get those extra hours.
Their theory is: take a 20 to 30 minute nap every 4 hours. So in a day, you’d grab about (less than) 3 hours of sleep. After about a week, your body rhythms adjust to this new sleep pattern so every time you nap, you slip directly into REM sleep. And you’re totally rested and fresh all the time!
They call it “polyphasic sleep”. She’s experimenting this theory, and I hope to whoever is upstairs that it works!
You can find her experiment here.
Consider this, we spend a large chunk of the day sleeping. If you could change that sleeping habit, we, obviously, more hours! This does not mean depriving yourself of sleep at all.
Most adults sleep in one stretch. Kids sleep in several stretches. And infants nap all the time! Animals don’t sleep in a chunk either. That we need to sleep for 8 continuous hours was apparently a recent habitual development, before we had bulbs and the likes around.
So this girl (Rachel something) and her boyfriend decided to get to the bottom of this and see if they could stagger their sleep and get those extra hours.
Their theory is: take a 20 to 30 minute nap every 4 hours. So in a day, you’d grab about (less than) 3 hours of sleep. After about a week, your body rhythms adjust to this new sleep pattern so every time you nap, you slip directly into REM sleep. And you’re totally rested and fresh all the time!
They call it “polyphasic sleep”. She’s experimenting this theory, and I hope to whoever is upstairs that it works!
You can find her experiment here.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
I don't know what to call this.
You want something really bad. And it steps right in front for you. You look at it. Closely. For all of 15 seconds. And you brush it aside. "Nah! Not this." And then you're restlessly, incessantly looking for something that you don't really want, but just think you do.
Guess nothing should come easy.
Guess nothing should come easy.
Monday, March 17, 2008
This is killer stuff! Part I
The band: Avial. The song: Karukara
This is a song written about the monsoons. Listen carefully, you might just see the rain.
This is a song written about the monsoons. Listen carefully, you might just see the rain.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Once upon a time, there was a car that was allergic to vanilla ice cream
This is a real story that happened between the customer of General Motors and its Customer-Care Executive. Read on!
A complaint was received by the Pontiac Division of General Motors:
'This is the second time I have written to you, and I don't blame you for not answering me, because I sounded crazy, but it is a fact that we have a tradition in our family of Ice-Cream for dessert after dinner each night, but the kind of ice cream varies so, every night, after we've eaten, the whole family votes on which kind of ice cream we should have and I drive down to the store to get it. It's also a fact that I recently purchased a new Pontiac and since then my trips to the store have created a problem.
You see, every time I buy a vanilla ice-cream, when I start back from the store my car won't start. If I get any other kind of ice cream, the car starts just fine. I want you to know I'm serious about this question, no matter how silly it sounds "What is there about a Pontiac that makes it not start when I get vanilla ice cream, and easy to start whenever I get any other kind?" The Pontiac President was understandably skeptical about the letter, but sent an Engineer to check it out anyway.
The latter was surprised to be greeted by a successful, obviously well educated man in a fine neighborhood. He had arranged to meet the man just after dinner time, so the two hopped into the car and drove to the ice cream store. It was vanilla ice cream that night and, sure enough, after they came back to the car, it wouldn't start.
The Engineer returned for three more nights. The first night, they got chocolate. The car started. The second night, he got strawberry. The car started. The third night he ordered vanilla. The car failed to start.
Now the engineer, being a logical man, refused to believe that this man's car was allergic to vanilla ice cream. He arranged, therefore, to continue his visits for as long as it took to solve the problem. And toward this end he began to take notes: He jotted down all sorts of data: time of day, type of gas uses, time to drive back and forth etc.
In a short time, he had a clue: the man took less time to buy vanilla than any other flavor. Why? The answer was in the layout of the store. Vanilla, being the most popular flavor, was in a separate case at the front of the store for quick pickup. All the other flavors were kept in the back of the store at a different counter where it took considerably longer to check out the flavor.
Now, the question for the Engineer was why the car wouldn't start when it took less time. Eureka - Time was now the problem - not the vanilla ice cream!!!! The engineer quickly came up with the answer: "vapor lock".
It was happening every night; but the extra time taken to get the other flavors allowed the engine to cool down sufficiently to start. When the man got vanilla, the engine was still too hot for the vapor lock to dissipate.
A complaint was received by the Pontiac Division of General Motors:
'This is the second time I have written to you, and I don't blame you for not answering me, because I sounded crazy, but it is a fact that we have a tradition in our family of Ice-Cream for dessert after dinner each night, but the kind of ice cream varies so, every night, after we've eaten, the whole family votes on which kind of ice cream we should have and I drive down to the store to get it. It's also a fact that I recently purchased a new Pontiac and since then my trips to the store have created a problem.
You see, every time I buy a vanilla ice-cream, when I start back from the store my car won't start. If I get any other kind of ice cream, the car starts just fine. I want you to know I'm serious about this question, no matter how silly it sounds "What is there about a Pontiac that makes it not start when I get vanilla ice cream, and easy to start whenever I get any other kind?" The Pontiac President was understandably skeptical about the letter, but sent an Engineer to check it out anyway.
The latter was surprised to be greeted by a successful, obviously well educated man in a fine neighborhood. He had arranged to meet the man just after dinner time, so the two hopped into the car and drove to the ice cream store. It was vanilla ice cream that night and, sure enough, after they came back to the car, it wouldn't start.
The Engineer returned for three more nights. The first night, they got chocolate. The car started. The second night, he got strawberry. The car started. The third night he ordered vanilla. The car failed to start.
Now the engineer, being a logical man, refused to believe that this man's car was allergic to vanilla ice cream. He arranged, therefore, to continue his visits for as long as it took to solve the problem. And toward this end he began to take notes: He jotted down all sorts of data: time of day, type of gas uses, time to drive back and forth etc.
In a short time, he had a clue: the man took less time to buy vanilla than any other flavor. Why? The answer was in the layout of the store. Vanilla, being the most popular flavor, was in a separate case at the front of the store for quick pickup. All the other flavors were kept in the back of the store at a different counter where it took considerably longer to check out the flavor.
Now, the question for the Engineer was why the car wouldn't start when it took less time. Eureka - Time was now the problem - not the vanilla ice cream!!!! The engineer quickly came up with the answer: "vapor lock".
It was happening every night; but the extra time taken to get the other flavors allowed the engine to cool down sufficiently to start. When the man got vanilla, the engine was still too hot for the vapor lock to dissipate.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Yawn!
The worst part of a really hard week is the weekend. No, I’m not kidding you! It’s really like that! All the work that you have to do for yourself somehow finds a way to just pile itself out, and leave you with no choice but to deal with them on the two days that you hope to catch up with some shut eye. God alone knows how this happens! Well I think that’s exactly what every chronic procrastinator’s going to give you.
Anyways, this weekend was one of the worst I’ve had in the recent past. It was Diwali. So there was loads to do at home. And then there was the freelance that you never find time for during the week. So, deadline on head, I work from 10 am Diwali morning to 8 am the next day, finish it, deliver it by 12, and get down to edit a film at the studio. (Which, by the way, found exactly that very day to go horribly wrong.) Work all night again, and get the first glimpse of the bed at 9 am the next morning.
That’s 48 hours non-stop.
Ok. So I finally hit the bed. Then what. 2 hours in, the phone (@#%&@!) decides to scream its tonsils out. Up again. I deal with the phone, something else comes up. It’s evening soon and there’s that hot girl waiting for me to catch a movie. So I catch the movie, down a couple of beers and head home at 3 am to hit the bed. The next thing I know, it’s 7 am on Monday and time to rush back to the grind.
Status now. Awake: 64 hours. Asleep: 6 hours.
Now, like all Mondays, this one was a bitch. And I ended up getting screwed around till 2 in the night. And then I hit bed. It’s 6 am and mom needs something real bad. So off I am scratching my backside, running errands with dog breath.
Situation. Awake: 96 hours. Asleep: 10.
By now, I feel completely out of my skin. I have goose bumps every 7 and a half seconds and yawn every other minute. I decide for the 37th time in 2 minutes to tear the pharynx out of Himesh Reshammiya. I hate tube lights, my art partner’s ultra sonic sneezes, laughter, the sound of a mouse click, and the entire species of client servicing. And I feel like I’ve had 71 cups of coffee.
Again, the day has a mind of its own. And I reach my bed at around 4 am. I decide that you have to be really demented to take clothes to sleep and sleep with my left shoe on. 7 am, and the damn alarm. Arrgh!
Awake: 120 hours. Asleep: 13 hours.
It’s 10.32 pm on Wednesday right now. And I have not the faintest how and where I’m gonna end this.
Anyways, this weekend was one of the worst I’ve had in the recent past. It was Diwali. So there was loads to do at home. And then there was the freelance that you never find time for during the week. So, deadline on head, I work from 10 am Diwali morning to 8 am the next day, finish it, deliver it by 12, and get down to edit a film at the studio. (Which, by the way, found exactly that very day to go horribly wrong.) Work all night again, and get the first glimpse of the bed at 9 am the next morning.
That’s 48 hours non-stop.
Ok. So I finally hit the bed. Then what. 2 hours in, the phone (@#%&@!) decides to scream its tonsils out. Up again. I deal with the phone, something else comes up. It’s evening soon and there’s that hot girl waiting for me to catch a movie. So I catch the movie, down a couple of beers and head home at 3 am to hit the bed. The next thing I know, it’s 7 am on Monday and time to rush back to the grind.
Status now. Awake: 64 hours. Asleep: 6 hours.
Now, like all Mondays, this one was a bitch. And I ended up getting screwed around till 2 in the night. And then I hit bed. It’s 6 am and mom needs something real bad. So off I am scratching my backside, running errands with dog breath.
Situation. Awake: 96 hours. Asleep: 10.
By now, I feel completely out of my skin. I have goose bumps every 7 and a half seconds and yawn every other minute. I decide for the 37th time in 2 minutes to tear the pharynx out of Himesh Reshammiya. I hate tube lights, my art partner’s ultra sonic sneezes, laughter, the sound of a mouse click, and the entire species of client servicing. And I feel like I’ve had 71 cups of coffee.
Again, the day has a mind of its own. And I reach my bed at around 4 am. I decide that you have to be really demented to take clothes to sleep and sleep with my left shoe on. 7 am, and the damn alarm. Arrgh!
Awake: 120 hours. Asleep: 13 hours.
It’s 10.32 pm on Wednesday right now. And I have not the faintest how and where I’m gonna end this.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Electronic implants in the brain
Found this here.
Jose Delgado’s development of the Stimoceiver in the 1950s brought intelligence agencies’ ultimate dream of controlling human behavior one step closer to reality. The Stimoceiver—a miniature electrode capable of receiving and transmitting electronic signals by FM radio—could be placed within an individual’s cranium. And once in place, an outside operator could manipulate the subject’s responses. Delgado demonstrated the potential of his Stimoceivers by wiring a fully-grown bull. With the device in place, Delgado stepped into the ring with the bull. The animal charged towards the experimenter – and then suddenly stopped, just before it reached him. The powerful beast had been stopped with the simple action of pushing a button on a small box held in Delgado’s hand.
Dr. Delgado, a neurosurgeon and professor at Yale, received funding for brain electrode research on children and adults. He did research in monkeys and cats, and in one paper describes the cats as “mechanical toys.” He was able to control the movements of his animal and human subjects by pushing buttons on a remote transmitter box. In 1966, Delgado asserted that his experiments “support the distasteful conclusion that motion, emotion and behavior can be directed by electrical forces, and that humans can be controlled like robots by push buttons.”
An 11-year old boy underwent a partial change of identity upon remote stimulation of his brain electrode: “Electrical stimulation of the superior temporal convolution induced confusion about his sexual identity. These effects were specific, reliable, and statistically significant. For example, the patient said, 'I was thinking whether I was a boy or a girl,' and 'I’d like to be a girl.'" After one of the stimulations the patient suddenly began to discuss his desire to marry the male interviewer. Temporal-lobe stimulation produced in another patient open manifestations and declarations of pleasure, accompanied by giggles and joking with the therapist. In two adult female patients stimulation of the same region was followed by discussion of marriage and expression of a wish to marry the therapist.
Brain electrode research was also conducted independently at Harvard by Dr. Delgado’s coauthors, Drs. Vernon Mark, Frank Ervin, and William Sweet. Mark and Ervin describe implanting brain electrodes in a large number of patients at Harvard hospitals. A patient named Jennie was 14 years old when they put electrodes in her brain. In their book Violence and the Brain, photographs show 18-year old Julia smiling, angry, or pounding the wall depending on which button is being pushed on the transmitter box sending signals to her brain electrodes. The mind control doctors saw their patients as biological machines, a view which made them sub-human, and therefore easier to abuse in mind control experiments.
Dr. Robert G. Heath, Chairman of the Department of Psychiatry and Neurology at Tulane University, placed brain electrodes in a young homosexual man and fitted him with a box. A button on the box could be used to electrically stimulate an electrode implanted in a pleasure center. During one three-our period, the patient, referred to as B-19, stimulated himself 1,500 times. “During these sessions, B-19 stimulated himself to a point that he was experiencing an almost overwhelming euphoria and elation, and had to be disconnected, despite his vigorous protests."
Dr. John Lilly describes the technique of electrode implantation. “Electrodes could be implanted in the brain without using anesthesia. Short lengths of hypodermic needle tubing equal in length to the thickness of the skull were quickly pounded through the scalp into the skull. These stainless steel guides furnished passageways for the insertion of electrodes into the brain to any desired distance and at any desired location. Because of the small size of the sleeve guides, the scalp quickly recovered from the small hole made in it, and the sleeve guide remained embedded in the bone for months to years. At any time he desired, the investigator could palpate [rub] the scalp and find the location of each of the sleeve guides. Once one was found, he inserted a needle down through the bone. After withdrawing the needle, the investigator placed a small sharp electrode in the track made by the needle and pressed the electrode through the skull and down into the substance of the brain to any desired depth.”
Jose Delgado’s development of the Stimoceiver in the 1950s brought intelligence agencies’ ultimate dream of controlling human behavior one step closer to reality. The Stimoceiver—a miniature electrode capable of receiving and transmitting electronic signals by FM radio—could be placed within an individual’s cranium. And once in place, an outside operator could manipulate the subject’s responses. Delgado demonstrated the potential of his Stimoceivers by wiring a fully-grown bull. With the device in place, Delgado stepped into the ring with the bull. The animal charged towards the experimenter – and then suddenly stopped, just before it reached him. The powerful beast had been stopped with the simple action of pushing a button on a small box held in Delgado’s hand.
Dr. Delgado, a neurosurgeon and professor at Yale, received funding for brain electrode research on children and adults. He did research in monkeys and cats, and in one paper describes the cats as “mechanical toys.” He was able to control the movements of his animal and human subjects by pushing buttons on a remote transmitter box. In 1966, Delgado asserted that his experiments “support the distasteful conclusion that motion, emotion and behavior can be directed by electrical forces, and that humans can be controlled like robots by push buttons.”
An 11-year old boy underwent a partial change of identity upon remote stimulation of his brain electrode: “Electrical stimulation of the superior temporal convolution induced confusion about his sexual identity. These effects were specific, reliable, and statistically significant. For example, the patient said, 'I was thinking whether I was a boy or a girl,' and 'I’d like to be a girl.'" After one of the stimulations the patient suddenly began to discuss his desire to marry the male interviewer. Temporal-lobe stimulation produced in another patient open manifestations and declarations of pleasure, accompanied by giggles and joking with the therapist. In two adult female patients stimulation of the same region was followed by discussion of marriage and expression of a wish to marry the therapist.
Brain electrode research was also conducted independently at Harvard by Dr. Delgado’s coauthors, Drs. Vernon Mark, Frank Ervin, and William Sweet. Mark and Ervin describe implanting brain electrodes in a large number of patients at Harvard hospitals. A patient named Jennie was 14 years old when they put electrodes in her brain. In their book Violence and the Brain, photographs show 18-year old Julia smiling, angry, or pounding the wall depending on which button is being pushed on the transmitter box sending signals to her brain electrodes. The mind control doctors saw their patients as biological machines, a view which made them sub-human, and therefore easier to abuse in mind control experiments.
Dr. Robert G. Heath, Chairman of the Department of Psychiatry and Neurology at Tulane University, placed brain electrodes in a young homosexual man and fitted him with a box. A button on the box could be used to electrically stimulate an electrode implanted in a pleasure center. During one three-our period, the patient, referred to as B-19, stimulated himself 1,500 times. “During these sessions, B-19 stimulated himself to a point that he was experiencing an almost overwhelming euphoria and elation, and had to be disconnected, despite his vigorous protests."
Dr. John Lilly describes the technique of electrode implantation. “Electrodes could be implanted in the brain without using anesthesia. Short lengths of hypodermic needle tubing equal in length to the thickness of the skull were quickly pounded through the scalp into the skull. These stainless steel guides furnished passageways for the insertion of electrodes into the brain to any desired distance and at any desired location. Because of the small size of the sleeve guides, the scalp quickly recovered from the small hole made in it, and the sleeve guide remained embedded in the bone for months to years. At any time he desired, the investigator could palpate [rub] the scalp and find the location of each of the sleeve guides. Once one was found, he inserted a needle down through the bone. After withdrawing the needle, the investigator placed a small sharp electrode in the track made by the needle and pressed the electrode through the skull and down into the substance of the brain to any desired depth.”
Monday, November 05, 2007
What is Lorem Ipsum?
Again, I pulled this off the web. Unfortunately, I do not remember where I did that from. If you do, pls msg back!
What is Lorem Ipsum?
Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry. Lorem Ipsum has been the industry's standard dummy text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book. It has survived not only five centuries, but also the leap into electronic typesetting, remaining essentially unchanged. It was popularised in the 1960s with the release of Letraset sheets containing Lorem Ipsum passages, and more recently with desktop publishing software like Aldus PageMaker including versions of Lorem Ipsum.
Where does it come from?
Contrary to popular belief, Lorem Ipsum is not simply random text. It has roots in a piece of classical Latin literature from 45 BC, making it over 2000 years old. Richard McClintock, a Latin professor at Hampden-Sydney College in Virginia, looked up one of the more obscure Latin words, consectetur, from a Lorem Ipsum passage, and going through the cites of the word in classical literature, discovered the undoubtable source. Lorem Ipsum comes from sections 1.10.32 and 1.10.33 of "de Finibus Bonorum et Malorum" (The Extremes of Good and Evil) by Cicero, written in 45 BC. This book is a treatise on the theory of ethics, very popular during the Renaissance. The first line of Lorem Ipsum, "Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet..", comes from a line in section 1.10.32.
The standard chunk of Lorem Ipsum used since the 1500s is reproduced below for those interested. Sections 1.10.32 and 1.10.33 from "de Finibus Bonorum et Malorum" by Cicero are also reproduced in their exact original form, accompanied by English versions from the 1914 translation by H. Rackham.
Why do we use it?
It is a long established fact that a reader will be distracted by the readable content of a page when looking at its layout. The point of using Lorem Ipsum is that it has a more-or-less normal distribution of letters, as opposed to using 'Content here, content here', making it look like readable English. Many desktop publishing packages and web page editors now use Lorem Ipsum as their default model text, and a search for 'lorem ipsum' will uncover many web sites still in their infancy. Various versions have evolved over the years, sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose (injected humour and the like).
What is Lorem Ipsum?
Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry. Lorem Ipsum has been the industry's standard dummy text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book. It has survived not only five centuries, but also the leap into electronic typesetting, remaining essentially unchanged. It was popularised in the 1960s with the release of Letraset sheets containing Lorem Ipsum passages, and more recently with desktop publishing software like Aldus PageMaker including versions of Lorem Ipsum.
Where does it come from?
Contrary to popular belief, Lorem Ipsum is not simply random text. It has roots in a piece of classical Latin literature from 45 BC, making it over 2000 years old. Richard McClintock, a Latin professor at Hampden-Sydney College in Virginia, looked up one of the more obscure Latin words, consectetur, from a Lorem Ipsum passage, and going through the cites of the word in classical literature, discovered the undoubtable source. Lorem Ipsum comes from sections 1.10.32 and 1.10.33 of "de Finibus Bonorum et Malorum" (The Extremes of Good and Evil) by Cicero, written in 45 BC. This book is a treatise on the theory of ethics, very popular during the Renaissance. The first line of Lorem Ipsum, "Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet..", comes from a line in section 1.10.32.
The standard chunk of Lorem Ipsum used since the 1500s is reproduced below for those interested. Sections 1.10.32 and 1.10.33 from "de Finibus Bonorum et Malorum" by Cicero are also reproduced in their exact original form, accompanied by English versions from the 1914 translation by H. Rackham.
Why do we use it?
It is a long established fact that a reader will be distracted by the readable content of a page when looking at its layout. The point of using Lorem Ipsum is that it has a more-or-less normal distribution of letters, as opposed to using 'Content here, content here', making it look like readable English. Many desktop publishing packages and web page editors now use Lorem Ipsum as their default model text, and a search for 'lorem ipsum' will uncover many web sites still in their infancy. Various versions have evolved over the years, sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose (injected humour and the like).
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