Da Bad Coffee Man

Call me what you want, but the truth is that I am the bad coffee man. I is Da Bad Coffee Man.
I’m not quite sure why I do it. The coffee that is provided in my office never fails to make me grimace – this to a man who ate with great relish in his college mess. But this coffee…it tastes as though it were brewed in an airplane fuel tank.


But I am an accomplished rational thinker. A tough, mind-over-matter kinda guy. Battling tough problems in my mind and beating the crap out of them is my job. Cogito. Ergo Sum Cafe. That’s Latin for - I think, therefore I drink coffee. Every so often, as I am sitting at my desk, typing random documents, I get the insane urge to drink Da Bad Coffee. As I am going toward the kitchen, my body is dreading the smell. I see the coffee pot sitting there, stale coffee of two hours ago, silently awaiting the unsuspecting and the sadists. I am aware of this but still I go. I stand in front of the coffee machine, pretending to weigh my options.

Then with the dignity of voluntary action, I lift the pot and inhale the aroma deeply. It’s disgusting. I pour it into my delicate Euro-trash coffee cup. Perhaps elegant coffee cup design can make up for Bad Coffee taste? I watch the brew swirl, jostle with itself for space and settle down. What are those little black dots and lines I see? I gasp. And furiously smother the gasp with cold logic, “Ahh, particles. Oui. Brownian motion. In Blackian liquid. The irony.” Now the liquid has settled. Like desperate people switching on lights to drive away the ghouls and ghosts as they enter their apartment late in the night after a hard day’s work in the office, other desperate people pour half-and-half cream into this unrelenting liquid, they bombard it with white sugar and powdered cream. It works. It actually does mitigate the damage to a certain extent. You might actually forget the pain of the pure Bad Coffee for a moment.

But I don’t do it. I drink it straight up. Lock, stock and one smoking cup. My senses scream in disgust. Ugh! Yikes! Sheesh! Aaargh! But unrelentingly I sip the coffee, seemingly at peace with myself to the rest of the world. ‘Coz I is Da Bad Coffee Man. Uh-huh.

The Truly Divine Apocalypse Now

When the apocalypse came, it took everybody by surprise. As the twenty first century leaped forward and man became increasingly arrogant of his own capabilities, there was hardly time to ponder the question of God and His existence. Man, drunk on his own accomplishments, didn’t have time for that – Man would become God! He built, he explored, and he attacked with an abandon born of absolute confidence. Such was the sacrilege Mankind committed. So when the Apocalypse came it took everyone by surprise.

In a grand display of evil might and unfathomable cruelty, the Army of Satan ascended from the depths of the earth. Trumpets blared and clouds gathered ominously. Striking fear in the very hearts of man, they began to spread forth and plunder and loot and destroy and kill all that man had so painstakingly created. They ransacked the cities and looted the villages and vice versa. The Cloaked Ones of Darkness on black horses spread across the continents to spread the Message of Destruction. So! Doomsday was here! Mankind besieged by the Armies of Evil!!!

And all was well with the Master Plan of Divine Intervention.

Mankind would try. And how hard! Mankind would fight valiantly but it would all be in vain. And that is how the Divine Spirituality would return to the world. People would pray. They would beseech and beg for deliverance from this utter Evil. They would be repentant for their earlier unbridled arrogance. The very earth would weep for man. Then in a show of magnificent splendor, God himself would arrive.

Men beseeched and begged for deliverance from this utter Evil. It was a sad, sad period. A tragic end to a glorious era of human confidence. Doomsday was here and the children of God were repentant. The very earth weep for man when God’s own final emissary would arrive to restore the Order of God and defeat Evil.

At least that was the Divine Order of events. As mankind despaired, God would send his final emissary and Good would triumph. Instead, God was worried. He knew that the situation was deteriorating, and time running out. But still he hoped – maybe his visa would get approved and he could continue to work here. Once that was taken care of then maybe he could go and do something about this deteriorating Good versus Evil situation. Maybe chat with Satan. Convince him to stop. God winced, or rather God in his present avatar of Bunty Kumar, winced. But really it was hard to concentrate on two things at the same time. No wonder he hadn’t been promoted in three years. No, no! He winced again because of late he tended to get so caught up in the trivialities of his avatar existence. He sighed. Still getting the visa would make it easier to focus on Evil. And he would get it only using his humanly powers.

You see, Bunty (i.e., God) was working as a software engineer at a local startup that really didn’t have a chance in Hell of succeeding – and he strongly suspected that one of Satan’s minions knew this and had infiltrated the management camp. But if Satan’s activities were actually decreasing his chances of getting his visa approval then was He not actually justified in breaking the…? Yah, Satan and He had signed this contract really, really long ago about who came when onto the world stage. So there was something fishy about this, in maybe the timing…Aha! The buzzer sounded. It was his turn to approach the visa officer.

“Denied? Denied! DENIED!!!! How dare the little worm of a visa officer! Just let him come in on Judgment Day…..no, I am God. I am Most Beneficient, Most Merciful”
Bunty (aka God) walked home, smiling benevolently.

But his Divine mind would not reset. That night, after saying his prayers – to Himself – he tried to sleep. But could not. He tossed and turned and tried to read one of the holy books that he always found hilarious. But not tonight. Maybe something else was disturbing Him. Then he remembered…the contract with the Devil. He pulled out it out and peered intently at it. But unfortunately it was the lease on his apartment. With exasperation, he threw it away and switched on the TV. And was immediately bombarded with a slew of Sprititual Gatherings and Prayers on all the channels. All of them were looking for God too! The rewards were high - $1000 payable over 2 months for a citizen/permanent resident or a green card for a legal alien. God stroked his beard, which he grew on the spot for this purpose, and thought, “Hmm…”. He thought so hard, galaxies and quasars and pulsars unimaginable distances away grew dim. Then he began in earnest to search for the God-damned contract.

Suddenly, the phone rang! He let it go to the answering machine.
**Heavy breathing**“Thought you would not respond to my calls? As per the contract, if you do not confront me within 1 week of the attack, all bets are off. I win!”

God willed the speaker phone on. ”Why are you breathing so heavily?”

“Oh that”, Satan said, a little nervously God thought. “I just finished working out. “

God asked, “Where are you staying?”

Satan said, “At the Hotel Details in mid-town Manhattan.”

God said, “So, the Devil is in the Details, eh?”

Satan said, “Enough of your silly puns. This is a lot of work. And I still have to maintain Hell…”

“Cut the crap, Satan. I’ve got troubles of my own. I got denied my H1B visa today”

Satan breathed despondently, ”Geez, sorry to hear that! I actually tried to apply last….”

But God hung up. Why couldn’t he just play mean?!!

So he continued searching his apartment for God (Self)-damned contract but it just wouldn’t show up. This made God really mad. Really, really mad. And when God (aka Bunty) got Really, Really MAD, his Divine Creativity stopped functioning. Then his Divine Creation stops functioning. And when that happens, everything stops. Everything.

Everything.

Even this.

And this is how the Truly Divine Apocalypse came to be.

Perfect Decision Analysis

Noted Decision Analysis researcher Bruno had just released his most comprehensive and complete psychoanalysis model to date. “This model is the grand finale – the culmination of long years of thought and research,” he said. And he paused for dramatic effect. “This, my friends, is Perfection”.



As the scribes scribbled furiously, a young reporter got up and asked,” What exactly does your Perfection do? And what is it exactly?”

“My Perfection is a theory – no, The Theory – that can predict exactly human behavior, given a set of input parameters”, replied Bruno.

“But that was already postulated and demonstrated by Doctor Spears twenty years ago!”, somebody said.

Bruno saw it coming. “That was a feeble attempt. A weak effort that satisfied itself with predicting human behavior only on a large scale. Any simpleton with a PhD could do it.”
Then his eyes narrowed. “But Perfection, my Perfect Theory, will predict individual behavior. Yours, Yours. And Yours. And all of Yours! Your very move, your very thoughts, your very next blink and itch – are mine to predict and mine to exploit. Nobody can escape it.” He raised his hands up toward the heavens and arched his back and proclaimed, “I am God!”

There was pin drop silence in the auditorium. A few people shuffled uneasily. The gathered journalists and scientists didn’t know whether he was joking or had simply gone insane.

Finally, somebody spoke up,” Uh, Professor Bruno. How does you theory work? What branch of science would this be?”

“Decision Analysis – the very purest, most exalted form of it.”

Later that day Bruno slipped down the stairs and fell to his death.

My life, my way

"You are still living in ancient history", said Ahoha, exasperated at his friend’s reluctance to listen to him. "In those days, life was simple and technology was still primitive. So mankind had to do all that grunt labor on its own. But now its not only too complicated but…why do it at all?"

Hohal sulked and looked off sullenly at the aircars whizzing past in the sky.

Aloha said,” Seriously, think about it. I agree that it seems that art has become commoditized but it's where the money is. It used to be in those days that art was the unknown field. But things have changed – Lal-Bal Creativity Model, the Ainstein AI Life Diamatrix, and most importantly,”he spread his hands,” the arrival of the aliens!”

Hohal looked at him, still sulking but understanding.

Aloha continued,"These damn aliens love humanity’s art. It’s the rage in the whole galaxy right now. Not one humanoid life form in the whole freakin’ known universe. You’ve been to Centauri and Andromeda. You’ve seen how they love our work. "

Hohal sighed. He said,”All these things you said, I don’t dispute any of them. I agree that art is where it is at. But I do not want to be one of these mindless creative types – sitting for years on end in their workshops and creating new art…Or a moron actor superstar, spending eons acting and being famous. I want to follow my dreams. I want to be an electrical engineer!” And then softly, “I want to work in a cubicle…”

Ahoha’s heart sank. His worst fears had been confirmed. He could not imagine anyone throwing away the comfort and safety of a nice creative job for an engineering career – where the competition was extremely tough and only the chosen few actually became Engineers.“And what about all these years you’ve spent working as the most famous singer on Betelguese 6 system?”

Hohal’s reply was fierce. “I don’t care! Life is too short to be spent doing something just for the money and looking forward everyday to retirement. I don't want to be an artist. I don't want to be one in the crowd. I want to stand out. I want to be an electrical engineer!”

And he walked out into the sunset of Arcturus, a lone ranger, while Ahoha looked on in despair.

The Great Indian Godfather Movie Ripoff

I have a great movie idea! Combine Godfather I & II into one mega-Bollywood movie. Have Amitabh Bachchan play Brando. And have Abhishek Bachchan play De Niro. Abhishek Bachchan with a 70s Amitabh hairpiece. However, since ultimately the original Godfather series is about the third son, it turns out that the third son is also played by - you guessed it - Abhishek. So now we have a tightly controlled family loop, the rest of the superficial stuff like story and stuff should be fairly easy. For purposes of originality and Indianness, this family is called the "Kharliwani" family which I suspect could be a mix of Sindi and Punjabi with a slice of Gujarati or Parsi. I forsee this being a 4 hour movie so I can break this movie into 4 acts each:
Act 1 - Same as Godfather 1 - Part A
Act 2- Same as Godfather 2 - Part A
Act 3 - Same as Godfather 1 - Part B
Act 4 - Same as Godfather 2 - Part B

This intermixing of the two Godfather movies is bound to confuse the critics and prevent them from guessing our source of "inspiration". And gives a sense of Quentin's Pulp Fictionesque non-linearity to the whole movie - a surefire way to become India's entree of Oscar nominations.

Now for y'all failing to understand why this project should hit the floors immediately - there are three reasons (and here is where I "don" my marketing hat).
1. This whole enterprise hinges on my excellent grasp of the Indian moviegoers pulse. And they are thinking: "How cool will it be to have Abhishek "don" a 70s vintage Amitabh hair-piece?"
2. Amitabh is not getting any younger. One has to capitalize on available resources before they become defunt and start to decompose.
3. To prove superiority of Bollywood talent over Hollywood talent: A tall, baritone Amitabh and a tall, baritone Abhishek who bear striking resemblance to each other versus mumbling, short Brando and a smokey voiced, short Al Pacino.
I rest my case.











Vintage Amitabh









Abhishek, Pre-Vintage Amitabh Hairpiece








Abhishek, Post-Vintage Amitabh Hairpiece

Vintage 70s Amitabh Hairpiece