Internet Education Week: Day 1

          Hello, dear Internet. I've decided that it's time to make some changes around here. You will be pleased to know that today is officially the beginning of Internet Education Week (fireworks and explosions). Every day of this week I will introduce you to something beautiful in the hope that this exposure will cause you to become less-repulsive specimens of humanity, rather than the soulless apes you are at this point of time. If the wonders that I present to you during the course of this week are already familiar to you, allow me to express my apologies in advance, as well as my congratulations.

          Before we get started, I want you to know that I expect you to take this seriously. I'm doing this for your benefit, so stop whatever else you're wasting your time with and pay attention. Ranjit, stop picking your nose and attend. Thank you. Today's topic is "Beauty in Music". Write it down if you think you won't remember.

        The main problem with life in the twenty first century is that the term "beauty in music" has come to be relevant only as it applies to the symmetry of the faces and figures of our "musicians", rather than the sound they produce. I miss the days when ugly people could become rockstars. Of course, there are exceptions. I'm not going to just brazenly denounce all of the music that's been produced recently, but, really, we could do better than this (*pointed stare at Shakira and Nicki Minaj who shift uncomfortably in their seats and look away*).

      This is not going to be a rant about The Current State of the Music Industry (mandatory spitting noise). This is just going to be a tribute to some really wonderful works of art. Please take some time to enjoy this collection. It is by no means complete or even sufficient, it is just a tip of the glistening, rainbow-coloured iceberg of lovely music that has been produced through the ages by the human race, much of which has been unfortunately lost or overlooked. These songs have done a lot to propitiate for our sins. Enjoy.

             Bohemian Rhapsody. Five-part harmony from four classically trained rock stars. Freddy Mercury's seven octave voice range. Really tight, shiny costumes. Best of all, it was written by an Indian. *breaks out into complicated Bharatnatyam victory dance*.

           After watching that video, feel free to visit the link in Youtube and lose yourself in the related videos: notable mentions include Led Zeppelin, Guns 'n' Roses, Pink Floyd etc. Honourable companion: the Beatles. Do yourself a favour and listen to everything they've ever written.

            Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, ladies and gentlemen. I'll say that one more time. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. For a more light-hearted piece that is as enjoyable, follow this link.

             Aaaaand, last but not least, I shall finish off with this. You're welcome. Happy Saturday, minna-san! I hope you've had a wonderful week. May the lines fall unto you in pleasant places. Good night.

My Deepest Darkest Not-So-Secret-Anymores

                  Gah, okay, let's get this over with.

My Guiltiest Pleasures:
1. I secretly like One Direction now (not so secretly any more, I guess). I tried and tried to resist their cuteness and- well, their cuteness basically, but I couldn't. Just like my pathetic surrender to jeggings. DON'T MISTAKE ME- I still have no value for them as musicians (even though 'The Best Song Ever' is insanely catchy. You know what, make the rest of this post better, just turn it on and dance to it while you read this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcZBhvSxg_8) because they don't write their own songs, or even play their own instruments. They just sing well and any fool can do that (highly ironic considering that my shower-time serenading sends the neighbours running to our house pleading that we stop torturing the poor cat. True, and funny, story, I was trying to see how high I could go this one time when my sister was asleep, and she rolled over and said, with great urgency, "Ma! Help the poor animal.") 

Let's not be in any doubt over this: I consider One Direction a group of performers and nothing more, and I am outraged by any comparisons between them and the Beatles. That being said, they're adorable and I want a giant ceiling- sized poster of them for Christmas to plaster to my bedroom (you guessed it) ceiling. Quick run through of the reasons why I no longer pretend to hate this British boy band:

Harry Styles Hairy Styles (Yes, I'm doing this just for that play on words):

   




Can I just say- he is incredibly beautiful? Okay, let's leave it at that. (Follow me for Harry Styles' incredibly voluminous brown crop? Guess what he's hiding in there in the comment section? No? Dammit, STOP REJECTING MY EFFORTS TO INVOLVE YOU.)


2. Reading celebrity gossip. I know, I know, it's stupid and superficial, and no sensible person would exhibit any interest in whether or not Kristen Stewart really is expecting a little Twilight baby, or Miley Cyrus has orange or beetroot juice for breakfast, or whatever, but I just can't help myself! I will happily spend HOURS reading about every insignificant, trivial detail of their flashy lives, and I am as disgusted about this as you are. Moving on.

3. Sometimes I dip Hide 'n' Seek biscuits in peanut butter and eat them. Once when I was having a particularly bad day, I dipped them in freaking Nutella (freaking Nutella tastes much better than just plain Nutella by the way.) I am aware that this makes me undeserving to live on this planet and I would just like to take this moment to apologize to humanity. I'm sorry, humanity.

4. I actually enjoy watching America's Next Top Model. Sometimes I even forget to pretend that I'm just watching the show to laugh at the Amerian fashion industry and everything it stands for. The truth is those bimbos and their in-house issues and Tyra's mad rhyming skills are just engrossing.

And that concludes it. If you don't hear from me again it's probably because I'm lying face-down in a pool of peanut butter, covered in cookie crumbs and reading about Rihanna's favourite breakfast cereal while "What Makes You Beautiful" plays on repeat in the background. Ttyl, gotta finish watching that season of ANTM with my sister.

SCIENCE JOKE! What d'yu get when you drag a sobbing conductor through a uniform magnetic field? Emotional e.m.f. (Explanation for the commerce students: this is normally called MOTIONAL emf :P  Aaaand, my joke is dead. CURSE YOU, COMMERCE STUDENTS. YOU ARE THE SCUM OF THE EARTH.)

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Science-ey and I Know It

I just experienced one of those moments of euphoria, the kind that can validate an entire existence. If I was a drop out crackhead who continued to live with her parents at the age of fifty, and I experienced one of these moments, I would be able to say with absolute confidence that my life, rather than a fail, was an epic win. It wasn't a thunderbolt or a crack of lightning, like the kind you get when you finally understand a really hard concept, it was more like a light drizzle that grew quietly, getting louder and louder, until it was as beautiful as the peak of a rainstorm when the sky and the earth look like they're connected by a sheet of water, almost as impenetrable as a brick wall and a thousand times more lovely. The benefit of living in the tropics is being able to experience things like this, the downsides include poverty and mosquitoes.
My light drizzle started when two of my friends started singing the chorus of MIKA- Grace Kelly, you know, the part that goes "I can be brown, I can be blue, I can be violet sky-". I listened to these two out of tune teenagers, screaming out lyrics while walking home, shirts untucked and ties pulled down, and I felt like the shepherds must have when they heard the first Noel. My jaw dropped, actually dropped, which is something I thought only happened in over-dramatic TV serials, and I stared at them like they were a choir full of angels, complete with flute and sax players, rather than people who couldn't be more tone deaf if they were really deaf. And then the small mist of contentment just grew and grew until, at a point when I was standing next to a slightly alarming cow and a garbage dump, I felt like jumping and dancing and crying with the sheer ecstasy of being alive. Before you start sending polite and carefully worded messages to my parents asking whether their daughter is entirely normal, I have these moments very rarely, and if you have ever experienced anything like this, you will understand and you will be happy for me, you hypothetical killjoys.

Hey y'all how's it going? So while my small private party inside my head was going on (what a find this blog would be for any psychologist. You guys must be eyeing your couches longingly and wondering when I'll be lying on them, letting you unravel the intricacies of my twisted mind), I realized something extremely rewarding. I really, really love what I'm doing at this point of time and I wouldn't be in any other place, or in any other situation than the one I'm in right now. It's not like I was miserable or anything before, I've always been a happy little dweeb, but I am especially content right now. I love science. I really do. And the thought that I'll be studying something I love for the next two years, and possibly for the rest of my lifetime, fills me with joy and the desire to write poetry of some sort. Don't worry you guys, I will resist the temptation.

That's all I have to say right now. ISC Sci is surprisingly drama-filled (who knew nerds would lead such intricate social lives?) and I am extremely busy. Also, if you know me personally, here's something that will make you ROFL, or possibly LYAO, I'm part of the school's basketball program. If you don't know me personally, you can have fun imagining why this would make anybody ROFLMAO. See? Everybody wins!

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P. S. OMG, the current went off before I could save this. Add power cuts to the list of downsides. Fortunately, Blogger, all powerful and merciful, auto saved it. Everybody say, "Thank you Blogger!"

P. P. S Or- or not. You know, do whatever you want. Watch this video for instant happiness.

Midnight Posts: Part Deux

So I was thinking, it's been ages since I did one of those stupid midnight posts, so here goes! Half an hour to tomorrow! (EDIT: For those of you who haven't read my blog from the beginning (shame on you), this is not anything cool, it's just me trying to put up a post before after-midnight. Don't grudge me this, I need excitement in my life.)

Vaas appenin'? WARNING: This post will probably make no sense as a) for some reason, count downs seriously freak me out so most of these sentences will be in the language I like to call Gibbering Idiot b) I'm listening to my favourite songs, most of which involve awesome guitar. Awesome guitar is never conducive to good writing. There's a tip kids, write it down.

Hey y'all how's it going? (Aaaagggh, think you stupid brain, type something!) It speaks volumes for my current social life that I'm dying for school to start right now. My friends and I were up till three last night. Playing Pictionary.... On WhatsApp through our mobile phones. AT THREE IN THE MORNING. We need lives. Or at least, better smileys. WhatsApp's limited selection is the only reason I lost. Repeatedly.

My Dad told me today that I should try to thank at least most of you by name. Um, I don't actually spend all my time in front of the computer, as my posts might lead you to believe, so that might not be possible, but please believe I appreciate each of you sincerely. So the reason I brought up the Pictionary thing is because it was during the game that I first saw Carly Rae Jepsen's Call Me Maybe video.
It was three a.m. so my first impression was basically: DUUUUDE THAT GUY IS WORKED. LOL SONG. CARLY RAE JEPSEN HAS PRETTY HAIR, I CUT MINE LIKE HER!

You can probably guess how that worked out. Yeah, no, it looks terrible. I will post pictures soon I promise.

I woke up in the morning with a vague memory of shirtless dudes with lawn movers so I decided to go watch the video again. Here is the Call Me Maybe, in its video form, dissected for you. You're welcome.

So the video starts with CRJ standing in front of a window and creeping all over this guy with a lawn mower. For some reason, at this point, the guy decides to randomly take his top off in slow motion (no complaints, though. Homie is built.) And then Carly (Can I call you Carly?) does this really cute thing where she tries to wash a car seductively and ends up falling off it, apparently followed by her getting a concussion and making kissing noises into the air while The Hot One watches bemusedly. The song ends up with Rae-Rae (I love her name. There's so many possible nicknames in there.) and her band performing for him. He likes it.
The lyrics to this song are freaking ridiculous. They're not terrible, but it's Girlfriend Syndrome all over again which is just sad. The main reason I hate them are because they're super catchy so I go around singing them in my head and the whole time I'm going "Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, so here's my number-", I'm thinking what the freak am I saying?!
That was the first reason this song annoys me. The second is that no matter how hard I try I can't not like it. Carly Rae Jepsen's so cute and she doesn't mind laughing at herself so the video's really lighthearted and fun to watch. Also the guy turns out to be gay and crushing on Carly's guitarist. WIN.

Four minutes left! I'm proud of myself. Tomorrow I'm going to be taking an "art class" for these kids I know, so that should be fun. Went shopping today and bought shorts! Not the ones I wanted coz my Mum had a sudden bout of Indian Parent and didn't let me get the cute pair, but still it's all good. Toodles! Have a totes awesome Thursday y'all.

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Love Me, Do

Oh hey, I'm an idiot. I didn't even notice that the time zone thingy of my blog is all messed up. That's why my posts are entered on the wrong days! Does anyone know how to fix this??
Hey y'all how's it going? Recently I had a pretty shattering experience. I realized that one of my favourite songs of all time, a song that I had looked upon more as a heavenly arrangement of divine notes than just a song, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, is about drugs. Why Paul McCartney? 'Sup with that Lennon? Actually, reading the lyrics again, I'm surprised I didn't figure this out before. You know how they say the eyes are the window to the soul right? What do kaleidoscope eyes indicate? Multiple personality disorder?
Chill out Beatles, I still love you.
Second mind-blowing music related revelation: Elvis Presley had a twin brother *rim shot noise* Ba dum tss.
Since I'm talking about this anyway, LET"S MAKE A LIST!!! Oh and by the way.....

That got old fast. Aaaannyyway.

 The List of Shame. The worst songs of all time.
 (SO MANY CHOICES)

4. 

Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne.
Avril is a fantastic singer. She's got a great stage presence and most  of her songs are lovely and meaningful. However, Girlfriend is a whole other story. It's one of those sad cases where the necklines in the music video are deeper than the words of the actual song. Let me just give you a sample of the lyrics of this oh so intelligent... composition, for lack of a better word.
Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your girlfriend
No way, no way, I think you need a new one
Hey, hey, you, you, I could be your girlfriend
I think Avril's manager must have been like, "Hey, you, girlfriend, yeah, I need a song."
And Avril's like, "Perfect!"
And then she's got these two lines that she knows are great so she just puts them all over the song. "Nah, no one'll notice that it's just the same thing repeated again and again and again and again. Hey that sounded good too, I'll put that in as well."
I know you talk about me all the time again and again
And again and again and again

B-rought!

She says hey, hey, you, you SO MANY TIMES. It must be like a habit now. That's right, Avril is now unable to say hey without adding another hey and two you's. 

Fame. It's not all it's cracked up to be.

3. We Built This City, Starship.

I like the chorus of this song, mainly because it comes in the trailer of Muppets: The Movie, but the rest of it should be lined up against a wall and shot. 'Nuff said.

JAASSONN SEEEGEEELL!








2. Baby, Justin Beiber.

Boy, is there going to be some hate about this one. I can just see all you Beibs gasping in horror and pausing your routine stabbing of a Selena Gomez voodoo doll to throw rotten eggs at this website. My only hope is that it'll get me some views.
 Let me start off by saying that I have nothing against Justin as a person. He seems like a really nice guy, he donates to charity, he rents the Staples Center for his girlfriend, you know, the usual. He is also very good-looking which a dude ought to be, if he possibly can (High-five, Lizzie) Pride and Prejudice reference whoo!
The only issue I have with Justin is that his music sucks. That is just my personal taste and I admit, he is an extremely talented person. He can play four instruments while I'm still stuck with one. Also his hair is perfectly coiffed. That being said... his music still sucks.
He is a victim of what I have decided to call, 'Girlfriend syndrome", i.e. a condition in which a string of words making incomplete sense is repeated incessantly because repetition is catchy . Ryan Higa reference! I am on fire!
Let's face it, a song where the major part of the lyrics is "baby, baby, baby, ooh" should not be something most teenage girls listen to on a regular basis, and when I say regular basis I mean every waking hour. I dislike lewdness but it sounds like porn. It really does.
Less than three, Biebs.

1. Do I even have to say it? Friday, Rebecca Black. Wow, obvious much? I'm not even going to give you any reasons, just Google it, there are people who have devoted their lives to the study of this incredible song. Fun fact for you, Becky did not even write it. I hate to sound like your mom but stop hating y'all.
Anyway that's it for tonight. I will see you on Saturday becaauseee

OMG I need to get off the internet.
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