Crafty literati and other oddities

Every once in a while and in one of my more distracted moods, I use my web counter to have a look at the reading habits of my fellow denizens of this rotten planet we call home. Or is it just idle curiosity?

That and I am feeling exceedingly cold--both in the extremities and deep in my bones. Which is odd for me, really! For years, I have been feverish and hot. The body, it seems, is going through some fundamental changes again. And a bit of concentration would help right about now. But I have been obsessing about matters political way too much. And that’s bad.

Because I have been thinking I should call an exorcist or a jinn chaser, perhaps!

Not really of course. It just sounded good because of this politics of the sophisticates I force myself to stomach everyday. Even incorrigible masochists have limits, don’t we?

I mean, the ceaseless bugle blowing of the self appointed Mimirs of Novelty or Custodians of Ancient Traditions and then the dud of that inability to tolerate simple differences of opinion and life choices.

The best they can throw around is that charge of being an instrument of some kind. A foreign agent here, or the British stooge there or that Great Satan’s pawn. And the highly imaginative accolade, of course, the evil incarnate.

So, don’t have a taste for goose stepping behind the murderous Ahmadi Nejad & Gang and they aim to hang you high. Don’t care to settle for the predictably nauseating Jr. Jr. Show and, yes, you’re “objectively” evil.

The same old cacophony, different tunes!

So idle curiosity or not, it is always fascinating checking out some of what keeps other folks in different countries preoccupied.

Then imagine my sense of charmed amazement when I noticed the most popular sites in Cambodia today.

And if you’re curious, over eighteen and not easily offended:

I give you what passes for philosophy amongst those crafty Cambodian literati here and here

And for chemistry here and this for literature and language.

And while we are focused on the lighter sides of life-- or the more grave, take your pick--there is an Iranian somewhere in California boasting a wicked sense of humor that inevitably always makes me smile. A rare occurrence these days.

Two of his most recent shorts:

Danish brokeback
February 23, 2006

A prominent Iranian director said, "Forget movies about gay cowboys. I'm making a movie about gay Arab suicide bombers who find it difficult to blow themselves up in a bus full of naked Danish male dancers."

Ready to go
February 18, 2006

When America attacks Iran, as an Iranian-American, I would like to fight for the Iranian side, Monday through Wednesday and for the American side, Wednesday through Saturday. And I would like Sundays off to run errands, do laundry and catch up with some sleep -- if it's okay with both sides. In a case I'm taken as a prisoner of war by either side, I refuse to perform human pyramid tricks or commit suicide by downing hair removal creams. I also like to request from the Iranian side not to ask me to blow myself up, and the American side not to ask me to attach electrical wires to nipples of hooded prisoners. Other than that, I'm ready to go. Where do I sign up?

And the rest.