An Attempt at a story..

content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type">

“Opening Airlock in 10…”

All around the airlock, men in blueEVA suits started their final checks, looking for leaks, locking helmets into place. The blue glow of their Heads Up Displays lit up the decompression bay.  Their bodies moved with the unhurried grace of professionals, who had clearly done this before.  Well, most of them did, My own partner seemed to be having problems moving about. I hoped it was just nerves.

The rest of the blue dots moved towards the rectangular airlock, while a voice counted down.

“5…4… 3..”

Outside the window, there were stars, clearer than ever, with no pollution or air to make them shimmer. They stood there, pinpricks of light from millions of miles away. No one glanced out the window as they completed weapons checks. We’d had months to get used to the view.  Ahead of me, I could almost pick out Hadley Station, the white, pre-fab buildings catching the raw glare of the sun, bouncing off its golden solar shielding. That station was about to be the first moves in our first Space War. Glancing back, I saw my home for the last day, the ISA shuttle; Destiny. Black tiles gleamed with an illogical sheen, as if someone had been mopping and cleaning them, and as I drifted further away from her, I could see the scars of micrometeorites, one of many hazards she had protected us against.

“Decompression cycle complete, Airlocks open”

I felt the airlock doors open, the vibrations moving through the metal plating of the deck. One by one, the men, activated their thrusters and hurtled towards the rocks that formed our objective.  The deck still vibrating from their departure, I followed suit.

“Squad Audiolink Online”..

At first, static filled my helmet, as I activated my own thrusters and headed out into the void. Usually, One would get a dizzying sense of vertigo, as if the ground had fallen away, but months of training had gotten rid of all the queasiness of space flight.  The voices of my teammates filled my ears, the tinny chorus somewhat reassuring. One by one they checked in, before the radio was mostly silent. In space, radio transmissions can give away your position as surely as tracer fire. Not a good thought to be having on any mission.

“Audio simulation online”

A series of lights lit up my arm panel, indicating that my radar and laser targeting system had come online, already detecting the other astronauts and dozens of micrometeorites. Using thrusters, I brought myself towards the nearest set of rocks, watching, and listening for any sound of enemy fire. Normally there is no sound in space, but developments in laser radar and computer-assisted tracking systems had allowed real-time movements of meteorites and bullets to be translated into passable audio simulations.

An observer would see dozens of flashing blue lights, as we all moved off our shuttle in formation. The same observer would have noticed those lights cut out as momentum carried us towards the tinier specks of light in the distance. In space, the difference between life and death could be in the tiny gaps between thruster bursts.

Moving in groups of two, the astro-commandos, moved from asteroid to asteroid, lit up only by the light from the thrusters of the man next to them. My partner was a rookie named “Raj”, hindi for King, which is his real last name. He copped a fair bit of shit about it since he came from an upper class family.  We both linked up above one of the pre-fab structures that once housed engineering equipment for the arduous task of mining the moon.

So far so good.

Hovering there like little specks above the boxy white-washed structures, the teams of astro-commandos swiftly maneuvered for entry. Stacking up against one door at a time, we would attach explosive charges to each airlock entry.

Raj’s fingers stumbled in attaching the charge. Calmly, giving no hint that he almost actually blown us both away into the depths of space, I guided his hand to the plastic tab marked ADHESIVE.  His arm felt stiff, probably because of the suit.

“Easy there, Attach the bottom adhesive first, then Arm the charge”.

Faceplates being what they are, I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or relieved that I intervened. I hoped for the latter.  Backing up against the wall,I waited for him to pull the ARM tab, when his head exploded.  It wasn’t an explosion like you see in those old action flicks from the noughties, but more like the outgassing of a wounded hot-air balloon. The hole is his faceplate let loose globules of blood, like those bubbles in lava-lamps back on earth. Bits of bone and brain matter smeared against my own faceplate. King was clearly dead, but his body would float forever in space. All this happened in the space of a few seconds.

Without thinking, I grabbed hold of his body to prevent him from floating away, when I noticed the gaping hole where his faceplate used to be.  Shit. Looks like there would another one for the micrometeorites.

Tracers flew over my head, looking like little shooting stars, with a point of light, and a nice vapour trail. Guns in space were completely different from your standard firearm. Basically miniature railgun in design, the bullet was twice as large as a .50 cal round on Earth, almost the size of a man’s hand. The SAR-51, or “Potholer”, as it was known by its unlucky victim, accelerates it’s highly conducive projectile using overlapping electromagnetic fields, to over 2.4 meters per second, about 7 times the speed of sound. Of course, that distinction is lost in space, save for the giant gaping hole it leaves in people.   

As I pressed against the wall, bright glaring flares of light sprung up here and there, men dying as their microfusion tanks exploded.  

 I thrusted closer to the wall of the pre-fab, pulled the ARM tab myself and waited. A bright yellow glow started around the edge of the blast charge. Unlike the “Frame charges” used back on earth, this did not use det-cord, but a powerful acid, ignited by the incendiary chemical lined along its edges.  Had the late Raj set of the incendiary without sticking it to something, we could have been blown off into space. If that weren’t enough, detonations are dangerous in space, sending fragments everywhere at high velocities. While the chances of a “natural” micrometeorite hitting you in space are remote, man made ones are a whole other matter.

The charge evaporated in a ball of gaseous vapour , taking the door with it. Tracers still flew outside.

After all that effort, I was in. Damn that was exhausting. 

The daily show on Israel

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Clusterf#&k to the War House - Korean Peninsula & Middle East
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Tea Party

Lies.

 Firstly, AWESOME PIC

And now for the serious stuff..
One of House's key recurring motifs is that "Everybody lies".
This isn't cynical, it's true.

The only thing that is constant in humanity, (note the "in"), is the extent to which we can deceive ourselves. We can rationalize anything, anywhere, anytime. We can convince ourselves that it is good to murder Jews, Palestinians or Tutsi. Indeed, given enough of a nudge in the right direction, based on half-truths and myth, we can convince ourselves that WAR, is good. (e.g. War on Terror).

Coming back to House, it seems that nearly every show has a disillusioned husband, wife, mother, son, father, niece, or close friend. I began to think, that really, they shouldn't be shocked. Everyone has secrets, everyone lies. Everyone hides. and Everyone dies.. (hey that rhymes)..

The lies go two ways, We convince ourselves that we know the other person well enough that they would trust us with their secrets too. We lie to ourselves in the face of all logic. One lie could not succeed without the help of an another.

For example, If Wife & Kids think husband can't have AIDS, it's because that not knowing their father/husband would mean some implicit de-efficiency in ourselves. It would mean we do not know them as we'd like to think. So we deny that they could have AIDS. Because we, ultimately, do not want to feel bad about ourselves, when logically, it's not even our fault.

Why ?

Hell, I don't know. No one does. Cue "It's the human condition" explanation. 

Social Pressures.

I suppose it’s typical, that as a young adult, social pressures would inevitably become a major issue in life. It is after all, the stage where our place in the world is most clearly not defined. That uncertainty of where our lives will lead results us in looking to others for inspiration and guidance. We look to our parents, our peers, the television, and almost everywhere but ourselves. We often do things that don’t make us happy, but we convince ourselves that they do. We see what’s “cool” and not “cool”. This is of course, a worst case scenario. Most of us have a limit as to the impact of society on our lives.

But that line is fast becoming blurred. Most of us have a “me” time/zone, and area where we don’t have to watch what we say, what we do, or how we do it.  Some of us, unfortunately, do not. But one must ask the question, How many of my hobbies, interests and attitudes are formed by my own mind? How much has been drummed into me by society, and how much is my own conscious decision?  

Are my attributes merely the product of genes? Do I choose to do the right thing because I want to? Or because society demands it ? Is there a fundamental aspect that is unique to each individual, one that used to be called a “soul”?  Do we have free will ? What is this festering presence on earth called humanity?

One could simply not care about societal norms, and as tempting as it is to say “FUCK YOU” to society, in large bloodred letters, Very rarely, do people actually avoid engaging with others. One could go live in a mountain cave somewhere, and not be seen or heard from, but then one would be devoid of all the benefits of society.  It finally dawns that, increased contact with society is the result of technological advances. The very same technological advances that I cannot do without. So while i can sit here and rant about how people take facebook too seriously, and that we can no longer truly know who we are, or who everyone else is, and that life is very much like a play, with everyone wearing masks in different scenes.  In the end, i will probably go and become a productive member of society, because I am human. I will end up adopting the same hypocrisies, the same emphasis on the superficial, the same sense of social ineptitude that we are all eager to hide. I will do all that because I cannot comprehend what it is like to live without a computer, running water, or electricity. 

And in a fittingly Bathetic end to this blog post, I will apologise to my imagined audience, that the internet bandwith has been capped, and hence the delay.

Oh, and here’s some pictures. It occurs to me that beyond childhood, we never comprehend "the big picture" That we are just on a planet, and our trivial concerns are just a few of 6 Billion. Most of them are the same as the other 6 billion, just with different dressings. We are not unique. We are the product of cause and effect. Only few of us can change the world. The rest of us have to deal with it. 

Facebook, twitter, and society

Good morning,

For some inane reason, my body clock decided to wake me up at 6 am, probably due to my severely screwed up circadian rhythm. Maybe it's the fact that I organise events on facebook (fb), or that I'm staying at home alone, but I couldn't help but log on, and check my facebook, instead of rolling over and trying to get some more sleep.

Why ?

Perhaps the whole concept behind social media, is not that people care, or that people want to connect, but rather that people are afraid. People are afraid that there aren't others like themselves out there. People are afraid of being alone, or different, and being the only one, who say, has a habit of (to take an example off fb), "counting the hours you have to sleep before you sleep".. Ok, that would be a minor fear. Granted, the majority of fb users aren't quaking in fear/maudlin emotions.. oh wait. Anywho, my point is, if you take away all the social pressure and gossip to be on facebook, at the core of it all, is a human desire to belong. But do we really belong there ?
I know that a similar thing about dehumanisation was said of SMS, and twitter and the internet in general.  To a certain extent, they are true.  However, some forums get along well and community members have no qualms about telling others that they post there, in real life. But an online presence is not the same thing as an actual presence and here's where my theory gets interesting, While excess fb usage is a fear of being alone, an actual social gathering requires effort, and carries the potential for awkward situations. So, fb usage is a combination of fear of being alone, and a fear of being rejected.

But why ?

Fb is society in a microcosm, and an intensification of fears and hopes that dominate our normal lives. Often, people don't know how to react to the immediacy of fb, and twitter, and either play it safe, or go above and beyond the call to "be yourself".. We have manufactured fb personalities, and while we would like to believe that everyone is acting honestly in our everyday environments, we know that to be impossible. We put on a face when we go to work, school, mosque, gym. We want to make ourselves look good. Certainly, these concerns aren't at the forefront of our mind, but they certainly do form a great part of our motivations.. 

But for someone who has just recently moved Cities, I can understand the feeling of non-belonging, but I also accept that there are some groups that you do not want to belong to. Clearly, for me, I would prefer to belong to a group that did not organise, and revolve around facebook. Hell, even texting, I consider to be closer personal contact than tweeting or fb. Fb has it's uses, but is not personal, and only an illusion/chimera?/ (insert fancy term for cure that only works for a short while), for our fear of loneliness.

Unfortunately, we all die alone, and nothing can change that. Having said all that, I still find my fb usage spiked when I moved, until i realised that my friends back in sydney probably had better things to do, and could not possibly respond to every tag that I had. So the only solution for me is to engage with friends I have here, while using fb to keep in occasional touch with people over there. Unfortunately, that's easier said than done, because physical interactivity requires a lot more effort and risk than typing away on a keyboard..

Wow.. didn't think this would still exist

 It occurred to me (rather forcefully, thanks to my friends) that facebook is no longer a space to express my thoughts as freely as possible while still ensuring that they get heard outside of my own head. It also was impressed upon me by the same friends that, my thoughts are not welcome on their walls. Hence, facebook does not, or rather, your friends do not want to know, what's on your mind, unless it's funny, important, or work related.

To a certain extent that is understandable, but I ask this, No one is asking you to read my wall, or even include me in your newsfeed. Furthermore, If you do strike me from your precious friends list, I'm not going to go all superficial on you and suddenly not speak to you in real life, or as they say on the internet, IRL.  I generally do not think about anything that I post on FB, because I didn't think that people took it seriously. Evidently, I was wrong. I make this blog post for two reasons, To put down my thoughts in a medium that is available, but not ubiquitous, i.e. something that doesn't appear on peoples walls unless they choose to, and to ensure that I maintain some form of record, of the paltry existence that is my life.

To this end, I have resolved to:

1. Post Once a week, and ONLY once a week, barring holidays. 
2. Make my posts as coherent and non-context specific as possible. 
3. To limit my posts to a general subject area.

I recognize that no one may see this post, and that I may eventually give up on this adventure, but It is , as they say, A start.

Left wing radicals ? You don't say ?

That there are two sides to every coin ?

Seriously. I find that there are more rightwing bloggers than ever. For example, an entry by someone calling himself "Dr Sanity", complaining that hostages rescued weren't even thankful, then further twisting their apology, into an accusation that all left wingers bite the hand that feeds them.

First of all, the hostages were grateful to be rescued, but this doesn't mean that they should change their views. It's like becoming an athiest because god didn't grant your wish.

Really.

Of course, I'm referring to something thats 2 years out of date, I just googled no good deed goes unpunished. and I get right wingers.. figures.