The Shopsin's General Store Tour - The Greenwich Village Experience

Here is the plan:

1. Read the article

http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2002/04/15/020415fa_FACT

2. Watch the documentary (available for instant watch on netflix or get the DVD)

http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/i_like_killing_flies/

3. Go to the website. Don't cheat and try to go to the website first. It won't make a lot of sense. If you follow steps 1 and 2 first, what you encounter when you click on the website will still be very weird but it will make sense.

http://www.shopsins.com/

4. Scan the menu. This will take a hour. Pick a dish. Don't pick the same dish. Thats against the rules (No, I don't set the rules. Kenny Shopsin does)

5. Form two groups of four. It has to be groups of four. (Kenny Shopsin sets the rules)

6. Pick a date.

7. Meet at West 4th St Station and walk to 14 Carmine St (Original Shopsin location)

8. Walk to the second location on Bedford St.

9. Go to the current Essex Street Market location. Try not to get kicked out. Actually, that may be a fun experience.

10. Meet Kenny Shopsin and eat his food.

If you don't like the plan..."Eat me"...this is a inside reference...you won't get it if you don't follow steps 1 and 2.

Legs!

Sexiest ad I have ever seen. Didn't think much of Claire Danes before I saw this.

What is going on?????

Am I expected to go to Barbados as a Bangla supporter against Ireland?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Best I can hope for now is a India Vs Ireland game...and thats if everything goes well.

Raul's story

Raul is from Venezuala. One fine morning, as Raul was walking to his college after pulling in an all-nighter working on a class presentation, he was attacked by some goons. Handcuffed, blindfolded and with a handgun to his head, Raul was thrown in the back of a van and driven to some unknown location. All along the way he was beaten and cursed. Finally, when he was allowed to speak, he was able to establish a clear case of mistaken identity and was promptly thrown out of the van.

On the lonely highway, Raul chose a direction and ran the first half-marathon of his life. He reached a town and convinced a good samaritan to drive him to college. Raul met his professor, handed in his work, went home and slept. Needless to say, Raul scored an 'A' in that course.

Raul is my classmate at Stern.

Mission Accomplished

I am a MBA student at NYU: Stern School of Business, the number one part-time MBA program in the country.

Every waking minute of the last eight months has been about this moment. I will live in New York, work in New York, study in New York.

'You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime'

HaHaHa

Funny article in the Sunday Times:

LAST CALL
God, sex and call centres
Fearing that the youth in the outsourcing industry is leading a loose life, Christian groups are taking desperate steps to reform them, like planting evangelical spies in call centres. Manu Joseph reports from Bangalore and Mumbai
Across the country, good Christians are consoled by the belief that Jesus Christ is present in the call centres, and are disturbed by the fear that he might be the only unmarried virgin out there. Unable to bear the tales emerging from Indian Outsourcing’s famous night shift, of condoms clogging toilets, live-in relationships, drugs and other joys condemned in the Old Testament, men who call themselves shepherds are offering to show one road that everybody points to the young — the right path. Christian evangelical groups are asking the youth to carry chastity cards that say, “I commit before god to save the gift of my sexuality from now until marriage, regardless of my past.” Catholic priests are cautioning parents about the moral perils of the profession. Spiritual counsellors are seeking out lovers and asking them not to get physical. And they are also telling homosexuals that they must be mentally ill. Scores of evangelical Christians have even infiltrated call centres in the guise of regular workers to keep an eye on the youth. In a country where parents believe that their daughters can be despoiled only after sunset, it was inevitable that the arrival of nocturnal call centres would bring in fears of wards gone astray. The Christian concern is birthed in the fact that a growing number of its youth is entering call centres. The Indian outsourcing industry, where call centres occupy the lower rungs today, employs about 400,000, with an average starting salary of over Rs 10,000. Squirming under the moral scrutiny, several call centre workers, especially girls, feel cheapened by the apostles of righteousness who try to reform them. They say that the Christian brotherhood is full of hormonal boys afflicted by their own prolonged virginity. “They are just desperate guys. They like to talk about sex to girls. And religious counselling is a nice, convenient way to do that,” a girl who works in a Bangalore call centre says. She was questioned about her sex life by an evangelical co-worker who revealed to her that he was there to show her type the right path. 27-year-old Krishna Puri of ICICI OneSource reflects a common sentiment, “This kind of counselling is for school kids. We are mature. We can take care of ourselves.” Among the many preachers of the lord's will is 31-year-old Dominic Dixon, from the Ministry of Reconciliation and Evangelisation. He is newly the author of ‘The Beautiful Christian Mind —Deliverance From Mental Illness’. He is sitting in the lobby of the Oberoi Hotel in Bangalore. He is a short, dark man with a slight paunch. His hair is gelled. He is in a black shirt with geometric designs and black trousers. He smells good. His phone is a latest model. In him, there is this unmistakable assurance that in this world some individuals may be liberal, but all parents are conservative. And parents run the world. Dixon, born in the fringes of Chennai to a humble ancestry, is now a seemingly successful man of God. “I have trouble maintaining an Indian accent because I travel so much around the world,” he says. Dixon is against the Catholic Church embracing yoga, meditation and Buddhist philosophies. “The Bible does not preach these,” he says in a calm confident manner. He chuckles when he says, “yoga”. He is also against pre-marital sex, masturbation, abortion, homosexuality and drugs. “Call centres are an embodiment of all this,” he says. “From the very start they promoted unethical activities. Workers were asked to employ a fake accent and tell lies on the phone.” Dixon shows a yellow chastity card that he has been distributing. He plans to start a virginity campaign in the Mount Carmel college. That’s the way to catch the young before they are corrupted in call centres, he says. “I have a lot of contacts in the outsourcing industry. They call me to counsel workers regularly. If I am counselling Hindus, in the beginning I use the word, ‘God’ but ultimately I give Jesus. I give the gospel. Many accept it.” What does he talk to them about? What do they say are their problems? “They never say anything. The Holy Spirit inspires me. The Holy Spirit talks to me. That’s how I know what their problems are,” he says. That brings to mind the exasperated query of a young Hindu girl this reporter spoke to earlier — “Why does the Holy Spirit inspire them to talk only about sex?” Dixon believes that the biggest problems facing call centre workers are usually rooted in sex. “Lesbianism is rampant,” he says. “One hundred percent of all the homosexuals I have counselled were mentally ill. It is a disorder and I tell them that.” He says that the “moral situation” in the call centres has alarmed the pious so much that, “some Christian organisations have planted their boys and girls in at least 60 call centres in Bangalore alone to catch those who are going astray. To talk to them and bring them back to Jesus. I too have planted some.” How does he plant them? “I have contacts. And the attrition rate is so high in the industry, if you can speak in English, you will be employed in a call centre.” One such God’s own mole is 29-year-old Barnabas Kumar, an unmarried protestant pastor in Bangalore, who worked in Siemens for about four years, and another call centre for two months. Barnabas has an endearing angelic face that looks particularly cherubic under a Nike monkey cap. He is in a beige windsheeter and there is something innocent about him. His grandfather was a Hindu who, “accepted Christ”. Barnabas cleared his tenth standard and after difficulties in going any further, he turned to theology. He runs his own church. “A few years ago, I began to notice that the youth have stopped coming to the church. That’s when I learnt about call centres and how the youth was working in the night and sleeping in the day. And I heard a lot of disturbing stories too. Jesus went to the people. So I too decided to join a call centre and help.” He worked on the floor of a call centre as an assistant manager in quality control, a person who has to check if others are being efficient. “That’s when I heard about live-in relationships. I was fascinated,” he says. His large boyish eyes widen. In the first call centre he worked, for several months nobody except one Human Resource manager knew that he was a pastor. But after a sudden public preaching session on the floor, a lot of colleagues came to know that he was god’s fellow. Barnabas used to keep a close eye on the workers to seek out evidences of office romance. Once he caught a whiff of love, “I would probe about their love life.” Even girls? “Chiefly girls, because they need assistance. I would try to come across as a friend, as though I am cool with what they do. And then they’d open up. Sometimes, of course, they would get offended. There was this 22-year-old girl. I have informers everywhere who tell me stuff and I was told that she was seeing a colleague. She was a beautiful girl. He was a dumb guy. But she thought he was a genius. I could not bear it. She was going astray. I called her to me and asked her if she was having sex. In the beginning, she was offended. She asked me who I was to ask such things. But I persisted. I kept asking her if she was sleeping with him. Finally, she admitted that she was having a live-in relationship. He was a dumb guy. I told her, she should either ask him to marry her or leave him. I spoke to the boy too. I asked him why he was forcing himself on her. She was so beautiful I didn’t want her to be spoiled.” Barnabas’ face clenches. He is angry at the memories. “I tried to give her Jesus. I told her, ‘I have a heart for you. Not because you are beautiful but because God has an eye on you’.” But Barnabas could not break them up. Was he ever attracted to the girls he was trying to reform? They were beautiful, he was single and they were telling him personal things. Love blooms in such situations. “Yes. But prayers saved me. Some girls even made passes at me. One girl says, ‘you are capable of many things it seems, you must come to my house’. Another girl sat next to me in a very suggestive way. I prayed. And I told her that she was not gold that can be used often. I told her, she was a diamond. She said, ‘Cho Chweet’. Next day, she called me and said, ‘Even a diamond is used sometimes’. I asked her if she would be willing to lead a frugal life, survive on porridge sometimes? I knew that would put her off.” Barnabas also studied the drug culture in the call centres. “They used to do all kinds of stuff,” he says. “They had their own codes too. Boys and girls who wore a black thread around their neck with a glass pendant that had a weed design etched on it were the ones who were interested in buying or selling drugs.” About two years ago, Barnabas left his call centre interlude, having learned enough and to devote more time on his church activities. While Christian groups have been trying to reform its young, the Catholic Church in India, apart from priestly interactions with parishioners, has not taken a formal stand yet on the issue. Father Francis Yeluvathingal who is attached to the Bishop House in Mumbai says, “We do not condemn call centres. They are a very good source of income. But we are concerned about the Christian way of life too.” The Christian way of life, at the moment, includes nurses leaving hospitals that conduct abortions. "Sometimes, what is legal, is not always Christian," Father Francis says. “We will formulate our stand bearing that in mind. Apart from moral issues concerning the call centre, we are also worried that it is discouraging young people from studying further.” In the middle of all this, the outsourcing industry is, off-the-record, fatigued by the moral scrutiny. “Times are changing. Everybody sleeps around. Why focus on call centres alone?” asks a senior executive of an outsourcing firm. “And, why do newspapers write so much about pre-marital sex?” Probably because, the ageing men in a newsroom with a pleasant grudge against the young would say, there is no such thing called post-marital sex. TNN

Buffer post

Two good posts by my friend Gadling.

I want to write something about Bombay but this post says it all.

The Spiderman post reminded me of a great day in my childhood.

"Spiderman, Spiderman, fendy naygago Spiderman. Hooray, he is the Spiderman!"

That's what I remember of my version of the lyrics of the theme song which I used quite successfully during my 1st standard fancy dress competition in school.

My dad sat up all night designing a black and white costume for me. He got an old white kurta pajama, white gloves and a white mask with holes in the right places, stitched by the friendly neighbourhood tailor. He then painted black spider webs all over the costume with a pretty realistic spider around the chest area for added effect. When I woke up the next morning, I thought my dad was a genius! He helped me perfect the low crouching spidey walk and tried to correct my lyrics but when I protested he agreed that my mumbo-jumbo made a lot of sense.

So, I show up for the competition and the friendly neighbourhood relatively rich kid has a garish red and blue spiderman costume that his parents bought for him. I was insanely jealous.

When it was my turn on the stage, I did my spidey walk and musical rendition quite well. Then the rich kid walks to the stage, stands there for a few seconds and walks off the stage. What a dumbass!

Needless to say, I totally kicked his ass and won the competition. The first significant achievement of my life. Thanks Dad.