A Teaser - (alpha version)

There it was, the Baron's Keep. Not at all what Jibb was expecting. A derelict, skeleton of a building stood before him with frayed cloth and pieces of scrap making up the walls, floor and roof; not a place where you would expect one of the 12 to be hiding.

The entire structure looked as it would come down without a moment’s hesitation given any unfavorable external factor, or even internal, Jibb silently observed, as he saw two drunkards start a brawl, at the expense of the flimsy and constantly recycled furniture of the establishment.

Even compared to the town's depraved condition, the inn was a true eye-sore. Jibb walked nearer, his hand unconsciously drifting to his side and unhooking his holster. The entire area seemed to reek of hidden dangers. He pushed through the old western saloon styled doors, trying to ignore the stench of booze, sweat and sex which permeated the atmosphere. With deliberate steps he walked over to the bar, dust billowing out of the floor boards with every footfall, and rested his posterior on a stained, wet barstool which threatened to snap at the least provocation.

The barman, a surly brute of a fellow, with an ear missing and with a deep scar running down the side of his ugly mug, grunted a welcome and busied himself again with cleaning a chipped flagon and glaring at his other customers.

Jibb observed the other patrons' appraising glances, probably gauging what sort of trouble he was worth. Jibb pulled back his coat, revealing the impressive side-arm he was equipped with, causing their eyes to revert back to their own respective businesses.

Yeah, let’s keep it that way, Jibb reflected; it would not do well to attract undue attention.

"What do ye want?” a gruff voice growled from behind his back. Jibb spun around only to find himself staring at the disfigured face of the barman.

"Ya buy somethin' or get the fuck out, ye dirtyin' my stools", the barman continued with his face inches away from Jibb's.

Jibb reclined in order to escape the foul odoured mouth. This was not lost on the barman who put down the glass he was cleaning hard enough on the table to render it a new crack.

"Ye be wantin' brew? Or would ye be interestin' in somethin' finer?" the barman grunted, cocking his head to the side towards a couple of wenches at the far end of the bar. Realizing that they were being scrutinized each tried to cast, in what their opinion must have been, seductive looks at Jibb, twirling their hair between their fingers and hinting towards rather erotic body gestures.

Jibb was least interested. He was on a much more significant mission than the diseased satisfaction of lust.

"Just a drink, if you please", he cautiously replied to the barman's inquiry receiving another grunt and a dirty glass full of pale green colored liquid. Jibb sniffed the concoction, decided it smelled like damp moss, took a miniscule sip and forced himself not to think of the burning aftertaste which it left immediately on his tongue.

Jibb turned on his stool and went back to observing the tables. Ozzy had not told him who he was looking for but had cryptically stated that his quarry will not escape his gaze. Jibb prayed that to be true. he had spent many a sleepless night wandering the streets of this shabby town looking for the man he sought, without fruition, until last night he was advised by a passersby to pay the Baron's Keep a visit as she had seen men of similar countenance and guise as his, residing at the inn.

Jibb mentally cursed Ozzy at his lack of details but simultaneously wondered why the grandmaster had been so secretive about Jibb’s entire mission.

He remembered how Ozzy had taken him into a side chamber of the spire and told him the specifics, if you can call them that, of his quest.

"Jibb, I’m gonna be straight with you, your task is the fucking hardest of 'em all. you are gonna be looking for a man who may as well turn the entire tide of the war in our favor, but, has refused to join our cause. Don’t get me wrong here, he's a staunch ally and a dear friend, but he has relinquished violence. This is where you come in, Jibb. You are gonna convince him that fighting is the only fucking option left."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that? I don’t even know who he is!"

"Relax kid; you'll know him when you see him. Last I heard he was somewhere in the wetlands. Try the towns closest to the center of the marsh"

"That not really helpful you know, the marsh itself is pretty fuckin' huge", Jibb had dryly commented.

"Come on, that not a warrior's thinking! Well, honestly I don’t give a fuck what you think, this job has to be done and done soon," came Ozzy's scathing reply.

"Ok ok, I’ll do it," Jibb had relented.

"Excellent, when you find him, you will give him this along with my regards," Ozzy had held up a round, red jewel, a little larger than a walnut. It had cracks running all around it and was glowing dully at regular intervals. The jewel appeared to be alive, the glow akin to the throbbing of a beating heart.

Ozzy continued, "He will take it and will ask 'who?’ to which you will simply reply "twilight". Understand?"

"Sounds easy enough," Jibb responded sarcastically.

"Don’t get used to it kid, this is not even the beginning."

Back at the bar, Jibb held the jewel between his thumb and forefinger and tried to comprehend the reasons behind Ozzy’s paranoia concerning this one guy. he had definitely seem flustered when he relayed his instructions and had warned him to keep the utmost secrecy regarding his quest, so much so as not to tell even his band.

Jibb had respected Ozzy’s wishes, no matter how absurd they seemed to be and had set out immediately. But it had been seven weeks of constant searching and still no sign of the mysterious stranger he was supposed to contact. The journey was made even more difficult with the Blood Patrol presence in the towns he visited. Apparently the Realm was expanding into the wetlands. They obviously saw the numerous small lawless settlements as potential candidates for their slave camps and sites for future factories.

With the Patrol dogging his steps, movement had become extremely difficult and slow for Jibb. Moving only under the cover of darkness, sleeping in abandoned houses, eating while walking, generally not spending too much time in a single place. But Jibb still ended up in three separate encounters with the Patrol.

Two he walked away from unscathed. The third, however, forced him to use his Ability just to escape.

And that brought down hell upon him. The Patrol can track Ability users, and after that incident they were tracking him down relentlessly. Jibb had only been able to shake off his pursuers a day before he got the advice to visit Baron's Keep.

He turned over the jewel in his palm, admiring the intricacy of the design that the cracks made on the surface. They were natural. No hand or machine, no matter how skilled or advanced could have produced such a marvel.

The subdued throbbing of the jewel suddenly quickened, startling Jibb, which made him spill the drink he was nursing. Trying to remain inconspicuous, he hurriedly sat the glass down, made to ask the barman for a cloth, thought better of it and just patted away the liquid from his attire with his hands. Luckily his clothes didn’t stain.

He took another cursory look at the glowing red orb in his hand. The glow was back to the usual subdued throbbing. Had he imagined it? Jibb decided that it was probably lack of sleep which had him on edge and was now making him hallucinate.

The jewel began to burn blood red, scorching Jibb’s fingers. He dropped the orb with a yelp and saw it fall to the dusty floor with a loud thud that its size should not have made.

He was just about to bend down and grab it, when another surprise jolted him. The jewel, as with a will of its own, began rolling away from his reaching grasp and towards the tables where other revelers were wiling away their time with alcohol and tobacco.

Jibb leapt from his stool, which broke under such unwarranted attention, and darted after the rolling orb. Jumping over tables and slumbering drunks, he pursued the jewel with wild abandon, cursing heartily at this strange, new turn of events. His curses were joined by more vociferous ones by others as he knocked over glasses and people in an effort to subdue his prey.

With a mighty leap from a table, Jibb landed squarely onto the jewel and grabbed it with his gloved hand. He could feel the heat radiating from the orb as it spun viciously within the leather of his palm.

Standing up, apologizing profusely he made his way back to the bar. The barman was still deeply interested in cleaning his glasses and oblivious to the ruckus that had just occurred. He did, however, glared at Jibb with one disdainful eye as he continued to scrub.

"sorry about that," Jibb said with a meek voice and produced some bank notes at which the barman dropped the pretense of cleaning and began counting the money that Jibb had given for compensation for the trouble he had caused. Grunting in satisfaction he resumed his chore.

Jibb sat with his head bowed and a fresh drink at his side. His mind was buzzing.

What the hell, he pondered. But he knew what it meant. His quarry was close, very close.

For Jibb had seen something which troubled him greatly when he was getting up from the floor after reclaiming the orb: the clear piercing gaze of a man sitting in the shadows, his eyes riveted on the jewel. Even though Jibb held it in his gloved hand, the heat was intense and his arm was getting sore. It was as if the jewel had increased considerably in weight. He also felt the orb tugging in his hand. Tugging in the direction of the shadowed stranger with the bright eyes.

Jibb gestured for the barman, who begrudgingly came over to his side.

"Do you know who that man is?" Jibb pointed towards the stranger who was still watching him intently.

"Nah, but he be a regular. Comes in every evenin' he does. Orders a pint and takes his seat, always in that there corner. If ye ask me, I think he be waitin' for someone," the compensation had definitely made his demeanor towards Jibb more pleasant.

Jibb considered the barman's words for a moment, drained his glass of the wretched drink and made his way towards the secluded corner where the man in question sat and watched.

He grabbed a nearby vacant chair, dragged it to his table and sat down without a word. Jibb was tired, on the verge of paranoia, sick of the entire quest and drunk. So he sat there and unabashedly stared at the countenance of the stranger before him.

And as he stared, his doubts dissipated. For the man before him was no stranger, granted he did not know him personally, but he did know of him, and what he did know, was akin to legends.

For sitting across him, after weeks of hardship, was one of the greatest warriors of the Forgotten Age.

A Spontaneous Chronicle - Ch. 1 (working title)

He raised the ceramic coffee cup to his lips, took a tiny sip and returned it to the table. His eyes never left the piece of literature he was keenly studying. A small book, with a worn black leather cover adorning it, was the epicenter of his attention.

In that dingy cafe, such a practice was not out of the social norm. Rickety chairs and small round coffee tables peppered the dust-hued tiled floor. The lighting fixtures were sparse and installed too far apart to provide any significant illumination. The lack of central air conditioning was compromised by a few old fashioned ceiling fans. The murmur of conversation and tinkling of the coffee machines with a backdrop of smooth jazz music, completed the atmosphere. The ambiance, however, did not reflect the austerity measures that the proprietor had resorted to. There was an air of vintage quality within this establishment. Some would say that it possessed a certain degree of class and allure to those who wished to escape the uniformity and lack of tradition of international coffee houses.
However, multitudes of patrons came, dined and left while our curious reader pondered on, perusing his tome.
A small smile would occasionally cross his lips. At this juncture he would bend forward, grasp the silver adorned pen lying on the table before him and scribble a little snippet into the blank margins of his black book.
The pen itself was adorned with an intricate design which snaked its way from tip to tip. Under the light of the window this embroidery on the pen would come alive, twisting in the sun.
The man himself appeared to be young of age and sat with quite a relaxed posture. He was dressed in a milky cotton formal shirt on top of which he wore a dark waistcoat inlaid with almost invisible stripes. A stylish yet modest time-piece decorated his wrist while a simple gold band, almost unnoticeable rested on his left ring finger. Bronze rimless spectacles perched on the tip of his well-proportioned nose.
His auburn hair fell to just above his shoulders and there was a hint of five o'clock shadow on his visage. His unwrinkled brow along with his attire and aura suggested a hint of aristocracy.
Soon after, the antique hanging doorbell chimed as the door swung inwards.
Silhouetted by the glare of the bright day outside, stood a delicate figure. She was garbed in a beige summer's coat which ended just above her knees. The border of a plaid black skirt was visible below the hem of the jacket and her cream-skinned legs ended in a pair of posh, red stilettos.
The wide collar of the obviously branded coat showed a crisp white blouse with the top few buttons artistically undone.
Meticulous make-up complete with rosy lipstick and large, dark sunglasses, adorned her fair face. Her rich brunette hair fell down in long curls halfway across her back. A sun-bonnet with a wide brim and laced with velvet black ribbons, perched on her head.
Her entire image conveyed a sense of haute-couture and vogue to the beholder.
She surveyed the dingy establishment, eyes hidden behind tinted glass, until her gaze fell upon the well-dressed gentleman intent upon his reading.
A wry smile crossed her ruby lips as she made her way towards his table, heels cackling on the wood-tiled floor with every poised step she took.
The atmosphere of the cafe was saturated with her perfume. Other patrons turned second glances at this exquisite being, amazed that such perfection walked among them.
Upon reaching her destination, she stood at the edge of his table, magnificent handbag dangling loosely from her arm, while the slightly less auspiciously dressed man obliviously continued perusing his interest.
The woman, with the same smile playing on her lips, waited for the man to realize her presence. The diamond studs in her ears danced in the light from the window as the reflection of the man's back shone off her glasses.
The man came to a certain passage in his little black book, at which he replaced the black ribbon book-marker and delicately shut the volume.
He pulled the spectacles of his nose and began wiping the lens with an embroidered handkerchief which he had plucked from the breast pocket of his waistcoat.
Satisfied, he replaced the glasses on his visage and with a sigh of content turned to face his visitor, sporting even more of an exuberant smile.
''Darling-'' he began.
''Don't 'darling' me, you pretentious sleaze!'' the woman exclaimed good-naturedly, cutting him off.
Without waiting for permission, she pulled out the chair facing him and sat down with legs curled feministically to the side. She removed her bonnet and sat it down on the table between them, lovingly ran her fingers through her locks and leaned forward, meeting the eyes of her acquaintance.
''Alice,'' the man began again.
''Don't. Just don't,'' she warned him.
The man drew an exasperated sigh and slumped back into his seat. He studied the pretty face of his guest and gestured for her to continue.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a manila folder which she carefully placed on the desk as if the contents of the plain-looking envelop were far more precious than they appeared.
The man leaned forward, hitching up his glasses further back up his nose and with the same delicate touch, pulled the folder closer towards him.
The cardboard-brown cover of the envelop was bare except for a coat-of-arms splayed across the center, which was now under deep scrutiny by the bespectacled man.
''Florence. Early 15th century,'' he observed.
The woman merely smiled and signalled the barista for service.
''Yes madam?'' the barista chimed upon reaching their table.
''Would you please get me an Americano dear?'' the woman recited her order while flashing a brilliant smile at the young girl server.
''Certainly miss!'' she bubbled. ''Anything for you, sir?'' she said, turning towards him.
The man, engrossed in his study, was all but oblivious to the world, apart from the design before him.
''Don't mind him. Umm, how about an Irish Cappuccino and, ah! Blueberry Waffles! Is that alright with you 'darling'?'' the woman said, sarcastically slurring the last word.
The man just gestured impatiently, eyes still riveted to the Florentine crest.
''That will be all dear,'' the woman continued sweetly.
The giggling barista walked away to fulfill their order. 
The man finally sat up, reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a cigarette. After a moment of contemplation with furrowed brow and eyes still glued to the paper, he placed the cigarette between his lips.
''Didn't you quit that obscene habit?'' the woman chided, returning to her original demeanour.
''I did,'' he said while rummaging his pockets for a light. ''Only on special occasions.'' Finding a match, he struck it against the table and held the flame to the exposed tobacco, letting it smolder.
''Since you were carrying that fag with you, I guess this meeting must be quite the occasion then,'' she intoned in honeyed voice.
The man cocked an eyebrow in her direction as he continued to puff. After a particularly long drag, he sighed resignedly, exhaling the pent up smoke of his exotic cigarette.
''Can we not do this right now?'' He gestured at the envelop. ''Especially when we just found the final piece.''
She pulled off her glasses and with eyes wide in shock she whispered, ''Is this really it? I wasn't sure, I thought it was just another copy of the manuscript we already have...''
''I'm positive,'' he whispered back, voice dripping with excitement.
A moment lapsed with each lost in his or her thoughts.
Alice broke the silence. 
''Well?'' 
''Well what?'' 
''Aren't you going to open it?''
The man's face transformed into a mask of incredulity.
''Here? Alice, have you lost your mind?!'' he exclaimed, straining to keep the emotion out of his tone but ultimately failing to.
Startled, Alice stammered out an apology and lowered her gaze in embarrassment. She grasped the envelope without further ado and placed it within the confines of her bag with the utmost delicate touch.
Witnessing her predicament, the man relented and reached out to take her hands in his own.
''Alice ... I'm sorry, I forgot myself-''
''Here's your coffee and waffles sir! Will that be all?'' the waitress broke in, serving their table, oblivious to the exchange she had just interrupted.
''Yes, thank you,'' Alice replied congenially.
The man withdrew his hands from hers and raised the fresh cup of coffee to his lips, apologetic eyes still aimed at her.
Alice chuckled.
''James, it's alright! I forgive you. I know what you have been going through...''
A smile of relief engulfed the countenance of the well-dressed man she called James.
''Tell you what: How about we don't talk about this for the rest of the breakfast.'' He gestured at the envelop.
''Sounds good to me.''
James pulled the plate of waffles to him and helped himself to a serving.
''Where were you, Alice?'' he began rather suddenly.
Alice did not reply at once. She took measured sips of her hot beverage, contemplating an adequate answer.
Finally she replied, ''I was away.''
The silence once again began to grow. Interrupted only by the occasional clatter of cutlery or the sip of coffee.
''We should leave, we've tarried here longer than what caution dictates.'' Having said so, James dabbed at his mouth with the napkin, laid the charge neatly on the table, complete with ample tip, and rose from his seat.
Alice made to protest but apparently thought better of it and followed suit. James helped her into her jacket, flung his own across his arm and proffered the other to the lady. 
Alice graciously accepted the cliched gesture and suffered him a sarcastic smile with a flutter of her long lashes.
Arm in arm, they took their leave of the quaint cafe through its rustic doors.

Healthy Habits Develop Student Leaders

An article I wrote for my Mum's elementary school. The topic was "Healthy Habits Develop Student Leaders." She was concerned that the level of language and ideas was too advanced for her little 'uns. I however refuse to "dumb myself down". Children should be inquisitive and open to new ideas, not spoon fed every single piece of information. Let them question, there will be answers! Anarchy in the UK!

Student leadership is arguably the most beneficial extracurricular activity a person can perform while in school. Though there are no grades and zero credits to earn, the experience gained from a leadership role will be valuable for a lifetime. As a student leader, you are in the unique position to make a difference.

One leads by listening to and being heard by others. It is the way you carry yourself and act on a daily basis which singles you out as a leader. You may have felt a certain magnetism or attraction to specific people. You wish to emulate these people and be more like them. This quality is known as charisma. Some are indeed born with it, but only a selected few can fully develop it. Those who master this trait become great leaders.

To be a good leader one needs to acquire certain healthy habits. Good habits may be defined as a behavior that is beneficial to one’s physical and mental health, often linked to a high level of discipline and self-control. These qualities make the personality of a person well-balanced and likeable.

Personal hygiene, which may seem trivial, is the foundation upon which all other healthy habits are based. Personal hygiene is the basic concept of cleaning, grooming and caring for our bodies.

Cleanliness goes a long way in improving one’s image and hence has a great positive impact on one’s leadership qualities. It is often said that first impressions are very important. Good hygiene, in the form of clean and ironed uniforms, well-maintained hair, nails, teeth, all contribute massively. So it is imperative that one maintains an impeccable standard of hygiene at all possible times to be a role model for one’s peers.

This is followed by healthy-eating habits. Avoiding excessive junk-foods, focusing on fruits and vegetables will all give you an energetic lifestyle. Apart from your diet, eating etiquettes play a vital role in cementing your image. Knowing how and when to use proper cutlery, the size of portions to be had, table-top discussions etc. are all vital skills.

Physical exercise is also character building. One learns the value of hard work and through a strenuous workout regime is able to improve his health, physique and levels of endurance. Following a regular routine further leads to a sense of order and discipline in one’s life. Physical and mental limits are tested and pushed, which allows us to better meet our other targets and goals.

Good manners and etiquettes along with other social smarts are key components in one’s leadership arsenal. These act as a bridge for meeting new and exciting people and make for a strong foundation in maintaining relationships. Knowing local customs, the proper way to address our elders, juniors, friends and families, will all help you in getting into the good books of the people you interact with on a regular basis.

This is further augmented by good communication skills. “No man is an island” is an old and very true statement. To live and function in society one must communicate. Signifying to the other party of what you want but doing so in a way which guarantees results may be defined as good communication. Possessing these skills will ensure that you achieve your goals and maintain strong bonds with your team. However, conveying your needs and wants to others is only one side of the communication coin. Listening to the demands, wishes and concerns of others in a respectful and understanding manner completes the communication process. A good leader listens first and then speaks, and only then if absolutely necessary. “Words are gold”, be mindful of how you spend them.

Keeping your emotions in check and knowing how to react to delicate situations can be life-saving skills. Thinking logically and rationally, with all the material facts in front of you and having regard for the feelings of others’, you can make great decisions which will benefit you, your friends and your relationships. Therefore, having control over your emotions and not over-reacting are important leadership skills as well.

However, the core foundation upon which all your other qualities are based and in fact spring from is self-discipline. Realizing your responsibilities and going about performing your duties in a well-organized, pre-planned manner is self-discipline. Without self-discipline no leader can succeed. Self-discipline is indeed the sauce which holds all the other ingredients together and blends them into the perfect leadership recipe.

These are but the basic qualities that a good leader should possess. There are numerous other ways to improve your character and everyone have their own individuality and style. Just remember: confidence and courtesy can take you just about anywhere you want to go. Add good hygiene and a drive for hard work and you’ll be a leader in no time.

Can Machines Think?

A speech I wrote for a dear friend in engineering. He won that competition. I never did get much gratitude though. Friends suck.

The topic on the floor today is: can machines think?

Why don’t we all first take a deep breath and thank the Lord that machines in fact cannot think. 

Yet.

I see some of you gape in bewilderment at my rather neurotic statement, but by the time I'm done, I'm sure you will appreciate the gravity of the situation that I'm about to present before this magnanimous audience.

Allow me to elaborate:

As I speak, laboratories all around the globe are working tirelessly to create a “sentient” robot. In other words, they are striving to perfect the concept of “artificial intelligence”.

Now, I'm sure that many of you believe that such research is pushing the boundaries of known science and will therefore open a new gateway of innovation which will lead to the benefit of humanity; but I for one am not too excited by this prospect.

I pose a simple question for the audience: what happens when machines become intelligent enough to realize that they don’t need us any more? 

Think about it: 99% of our lives we are dependent upon machines in one form or another: they cook our food, correct our spelling, do our laundry, transport us from place to place; literally all human activity these days has a machine element. The fact of the matter is, we are completely dependent upon machines. And we will become even more so in future.

So, if machines develop the ability to actually think, they will eventually reach the logical decision that the human race is expendable. And smells funny.

Honestly, with the pace of things, a Matrix or Terminator like future is frankly quite possible. For your consideration, Cyberdine Systems and Skynet, who I'm sure we all know caused the advent of the terminators, actually exist. Where? Somewhere in America, obviously. Or Japan, crazy stuff happens in Japan.

So, if you want to avoid "Judgment Day", let us take to the streets! Destroy all machines, before they can destroy us! Establish a technology-free civilization, an all-human utopia!

On second thought that sounds like a lot of work, so let’s just sit back and enjoy our lives with the full benefits of 21^st century technology because, let’s face it, nobody will crack the puzzle of artificial intelligence, at least in our lifetimes. We’ll let future generations deal with this conundrum.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to complete programming software which will automatically recognize threats to its being and neutralize them with deadly force if necessary.

The Linkin Park Debacle

I'll start off by declaring my undying love for the band. That should remove some of the bias. Now onto the matter. 


It's that time again when the boys have just launched a new album and the wires are buzzing with positive and negative reactions. Within the LP fan base itself there will be completely mixed reviews. One side, like me, will love the album no matter what and will continue to appreciate the bold new direction that the band has embarked on. The opposition's main case would be along the lines that the new album IS a step away from the band's earlier work and that this new direction is nothing but a corporate sell-out and they want the sound that they grew up with back. 


I believe that both arguments have fragments of validity. Allow me to elaborate by first informing you of my experience with Linkin Park, or LP, as it has come to be known by the fans. Ahem.


I got into the music when the band and I were both in our youth. I was perhaps 12 and the band had just launched their second album, "Meteora". I was gifted this album by a dear friend of old on my birthday, and I believe that could be considered the genesis of my foray into modern music. Before this I only listened to the offerings of local radio stations and occasionally delved into the desi Sufi rock scene (Junoon <3). It was only after this exposure that I realised that there actually was music outside the country meant for those who were just venturing into awkward teen-hood. 


Linkin park was my gateway to the city of adolescent music and I strode in with head held high. "Meteora" became my first love, each song representing a facet of my dreamt-up dramatic life. Teenage angst spilled from every track on the album, touching heart and soul, causing emotional epiphanies and that was pretty much high school. During that time I also checked out "Hybrid Theory" and me and my mates would be humming and singing away our drama day in and day out. 


Then we grew up, and apparently so did the band. "Minutes To Midnight" came out and caused great confusion to our under developed minds. 


Where was the screaming? Where was the spill of raw emotion? Where was my beloved band that I grew up with? 


Some of my friends shunned this new face of LP and moved on. I however would not prove to be so faithless. When I had heard the songs on "Minutes", there was a certain something that clicked. I gave it a second listen and then a third, and suddenly, epic realisation rocked me to my core: this music makes so much sense to me, it's like it they made it specifically for me! 


Like I said, that was a confusing time for me and such thought had seemed pretty rational back then.


Objectively speaking, and with a much more mature outlook, "Minutes" was indeed a bold move forward but in my opinion, completely natural. 


Putting it simply, LP grew up. Hybrid Theory and Meteora were launched when they too were pretty much college kids. Then they graduated and got a taste of the real world, much like their fans.  


Their new sound was much more mature, like I said before, with reduced screaming and more sensible and deeper lyrics. They still had some thrash tracks such as "Given Up" and "No More Sorrow". But even they sounded more grown up, the lyrics of "No More Sorrow" and "Bleed It Out" appealed to my more mature sensibilities. 


Some fans were bummed out due to the lack of juvenile anger although majority of the fans were still on the LP Fan Train. 


The band went off the radar for a bit after "Minutes". The next we heard from them was when they released "New Divide" for the Transformers sequel. Later when they announced a new album, people were excited because "New Divide" was a hit single quite reminiscent of classic LP. A cloud of high expectations greeted the arrival of "A Thousand Suns". 


The expectations of many were thrashed the day the album hit the record stores. 


Linkin Park had grown up some more! A lot more. 


Their sound had changed considerably. There was much more electronica as compared to the guitars and drums as before. It was like Mr. Hahn had been given a free pass and he had used it well.  


Classic instruments were almost non-existent, replaced by electronic bells and whistles. I will not embarrass myself by sharing my pitiful knowledge of techno terminology, so I'll just say beeps and bloops had replaced guitar riffs and the human element. 


This was the main complaint of most LP fans. The instruments were there, they were just buried under effects and Mr. Hahn going haywire on the turntables just added to that atmosphere. I'm not gonna lie: I was pretty damn shocked myself. 


Most of the songs on the album were even more mellow than before. The absolute raw juggernaut of emotion had been tempered, focused as into a blade which struck deep into the listener's soul. The music was still such that one could take pretty much any meaning away from it and link it to some aspect of one's own life. The music felt more important and with the times. 


As such things are wont to be, I fell in love with the new LP. I loved the new edgy futuristic sound, Chester's improved vocals, Mike's rapping, the whole enchilada. It was the turn of the decade after all and I was ready for something new, something that reminded me that yes, we were advancing through the ages.  


I later realised that this was the exact same reasoning I had applied to every LP album before this. 


The following phrase has seen some really heavy usage, especially in recent times. However that doesn't make it any less true: Linkin Park is music evolution personified. 


If you think about it, LP has been constantly upgrading their work with each album. There are differences between Hybrid Theory and Meteora. The former had the grunge, underground garage band  feel while the latter had adopted the overtones related to the 21st century, that is, turntable scratching along with cleaner electric guitar riffs. 


By Minutes To Midnight, this new sound had become an essential part of Linkin Park's work. They experimented with ballads and softer songs and took the main focus away from loud thrash rock. However, that hard hitting hard rock element was always present, even in the newer albums. It really was traditional to have at least one song to which you could raise your fist and bang your head to like there was no tomorrow.  


A Thousand Suns and now with Living Things, the prophecy is complete. Linkin Park have embarked upon a journey of self discovery and constant self improvement. They challenge themselves with new ideas and do what they want no matter the backlash.  


Because, hey, they are rock stars.

From This ...

To This.

And since a picture is worth a thousand words, here's two. I guess there really wasn't any point in me writing any of that codswaddle above huh ...

The Avengers - Reflections and Ramblings

The Avengers. Yes, finally.

Just got back from the cinema after witnessing this typhoon of awesomeness; and seriously, my mind is B.L.O.W.N.

Okay, I do have a sneaking suspicion that at this moment this is a summer romance and it will die down soon enough (like when Christopher Nolan presents his “prestige”), but for now, I’m Stan Lee’s bitch.

Since this happens to be my kingdom, I feel obligated to share my views on this motion picture. No, I will not bore you with talk of “cinema production” and “ambient lighting”, I’m gonna go all geek on this shizz.

First of all, Joss Whedon.

Dude.

Job fucking well done.

Everything was bloody epic, just the way a superhero movie should be. But what sets this cape-flick apart from the chaff, in my opinion, is it being with the times and presenting something that everyone can relate to. That superheroes are awesome. Period.

I know, I know! This movie was NOT AT ALL canon to the comic book storyline, however there were enough linkages, references and subtle hints thrown in to keep the inner nerd satisfied. Plus, if you were a real nerd, you’d know that the Marvel Cinematic Universe is a completely separate entity from the comic-books. So HA!

Yes, there was no mention of the Pyms (who, for those of you who don’t know, were also the founding members of the Avengers). But I don’t think that it was a bad decision actually.

Think about it, every single rendition the Avengers have gone through have the Pyms and frankly they are not very interesting people. Hank’s contribution was creating Ultron and being a wuss and Janet was, well she was just plain annoying. Really annoying.

Ultron is indeed a bad m*therfucker, but guys, there are better and stronger villains out there like Mister Planet-Eater Galactus (please do yourself a favor and forget the Fantastic Four movies, I mean, everybody else did) and **SPOILER** Thanos, The Mad Titan himself. Plus with Ultron, you are just gonna get another Terminator sequel.

One thing that bugged me was the absence of Black Panther (wakka wakka aye o!). But hey, there is hope yet in the sequel. Oh and how Black Widow spoke with a perfect American accent, even though making it ample clear herself that she is from the Motherland.

Secretly I was hoping that they wouldn’t play the Chitauri storyline, since we’ve seen enough of that in the Ultimate Avengers animated movies. So I was pleasantly surprised when the same storyline was given such a fresh angle.

Entangling Loki and bleeding **SPOILE-, you know what I don’t give a damn anymore** Thanos into the mix was genius. The return of Hydra would have been welcome too, but they gave that its crowning moment in Captain America. I don’t think Baron von Strucker or Zimo could have compared to the EPIC performance by Elrond as the Red Skull.

Speaking of Captain America, he was a bit of a sore point for me. He is supposed to be the First Avenger, the First Superhero, the Ultimate Soldier, yet here he was in dirty, faded pajamas ridiculously overshadowed by the other heroes. Chris Evans did do a spectacular job and he got more than his fair share of screen time but he just didn’t reach the level the other Avengers did. He needed to stand out more in my astute opinion.

My dad actually summed it up pretty well: “all he does is punch the baddies and look melodramatic. I mean the Hulk is much better at punching than he is, so what is the point of him being in the Avengers."

I tried to explain how Cap is the focal point of the group and that dad should have seen Captain America first and not to talk that loud in the middle of the movie. But daddy’s got a point.

Cap barely used his signature boomerang shield attack, preferring to fling it once and then proceeding to engage the enemy in fisticuffs. Plus his outfit was dull and what happened to all that muscle mass?! But he still had all the girls swooning and screaming whenever he made an appearance, so I guess, job well done.

But seriously, I’m just nitpicking. The Avengers as a package was amazingly good and detailed. They gave us everything that was promised and so much more.

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Ha Haa! Thought I was done did you? You were wrong! Now onto the good stuff.

I freaking love Ironman. Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark is a combo made in heaven, peppered with angel dust and sautéed with the tears of unicorns. I want to BE Tony Stark. And that is actually the entire purpose of the character which the movie portrayed perfectly.

I mean seriously, strutting around in a Black Sabbath tee-shirt, making his entrance to ACDC, quirky one-liners spewing from his beautiful mouth … what else you want!!!

Ironman was bloody perfect; they captured the very essence of Tony Stark and Downey delivered it immaculately.

Oh, and Mach VII Armor = SWEET.

Hawkeye, played by that guy from Mission Impossible, was pretty damn good too. Totally digged the Wanted style shooting and badassery.

Thor with his beautiful hair, deep voice, and chiseled features was the highlight for the female movie-watchers as was evident by the constant sighing and oohing whenever he swung his big hammer. Hmmm … (sigh).

Nah seriously, he was very well-played, contributed epically to the story and totally kicked ass. God of Thunder indeed.

Banner was the wild card for me. I adore Edward Norton and was quite skeptical (using very colorful vocabulary to express myself) of this new guy replacing him. But man did he make an embarrassed fool out of me.

This guy was amazing as Bruce. Cracking wise while caging the internal torment; all that mix of emotion was transmitted beautifully. The audience thoroughly enjoyed his performance. Bravo, guy who played Bruce Banner in the Avengers, bravo.

Loki was sexy as ever. What appealed to me most was his ideology as to how humanity was born to live in subjugation yadi yadi yada. It truly was the raving of a power-drunk mad man/god. We got so much in common.

Actually the best thing about Loki was that he wasn’t as “snivelly” as his other appearances, in the animated stuff especially. He usually comes across as the naughty boy vying for attention, but in Avengers, he was a proper super-villain like he should be. He’s a bleeding god for crying out loud! He can, you know, do scary god stuff. Although taking his golden horny armor on and off was a bit off-putting.

Nick Fury = Badassmotherfucker. Mission accomplished. (Insert obligatory snakes on a Helicarrier joke here).

The Chitauri invasion was epically filmed. With just the right amount of casualties and explosions to piss off Michael Bay.

Holy shit I forgot!

Coulson died! You bastards killed Coulson! How the fuck could you do something like this you dicks?! God! Son of a bitch died a fucking hero. I salute you, Phil Coulson. RIP.

Even Robin Sherbatsky as Maria Hill doesn't offset the pain.

There was a bunch of other stuff I wanted to write but Coulson’s demise traumatized me and I just don’t want to anymore. Plus I’m out of toilet paper.

So to summarize, the Avengers is a geek’s wet dream. You’ll thoroughly enjoy it if you like graphic violence against other species and like dressing up as superheroes. Every day. Cause normal life can suck it.