Monday, April 03, 2006

Pinky and The Brain Brain Brain Brain!

Hel-lo Internet!

How HAVE you been?!

We, as is evident from the hyper-punctuation all around, are in a jolly good mood (and
thankfully, THIS time, it's not the PMS monster raising it's many-moody-heads)! Jolly enough, as a matter of fact, to be buffing our nails on our ever-so-raised collars.

The reason, you ask (and you know it doesn't really matter that you didn't, don't
you?)?

It is because, we have discovered that we are a handyman par excellence. *We*. We,
who are five feet tall and know zip, zero, zilch about hardware-y stuff. We would be squealing and clapping our hands excitedly at this point, except that we know that that's not what handymen (especially the ones P.E.) do.

So we shall content ourselves with looking down our nose at anyone who cannot fix
kitchen cabinets, because that, internet, is what we did do.

Kitchen cabinets with doors, which were, in falling off of their hinges, becoming potentially deadly weapons, because of
their sharp edges and absolute slavish adherence to the laws of gravity.

Be banished then! From this household, O ghosts of bloodied toes! No longer shall
ye haunt this kitchenette, which has it's doors firmly screwed-on, thank you very much!

We fixed 'em up good an' proper. With an hour (oh all right! five minutes) of
study, and a small electrical screwdriver (which is the only hardware tool this household currently possesses).

We are absolutely *the* coolest.

Today, kitchen cabinets, tomorrow, the world!*


*And this (the whole post actually), kittens, is why we should NOT blog right after coffee!


***

In other news, The Brain has turned traitor to the cause of carry-on-being-sane,
and is doing it's damnedest to think us all the way to crazy town. It's even promised us a nice little house with a view, white picket fence, padded walls and a lifetime supply of straitjackets.

The Brain (crafty bugger that it is) knows, that what we hate more than anything in the world, is not knowing. Ambiguity in anything, drives us absolutely batty and that is what The Brain is driving home again and again, with all the blasted questions.


It questions and questions and then questions some more, and then sits and rubs it's hands with glee (it's cheaper than hand cream) because it knows we're about to blow a fuse from all the thinking.

Will you just stop with all the questions, Brain?!

It has, in it's most diabolical move so far, forced us into reading What Should I Do With My Life** by Po Brosnan, who, for a living, writes books which tell people what they should do with their lives. And like it's not bad enough that we're reading...the-book-title-which-must-not-be-mentioned (suppresses shudder of revulsion), the book tells you everything but what you furtively picked it up, hid under your jacket and read by torchlight to find out.

This makes us very sad indeed and we are *this close* (imagine thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart) to turning to religion.

And the day that happens? Internet, be a sweetie and put a bullet through our head, will you?

In the immortal words of Calvin (The Bold, NOT the stoic), My brain is trying to
kill me.


**And when you're through jumping back from your screens in horror and revulsion, and
if you have a vague-ish idea that you're doing what you were *meant* to do, will you be nice and tell us how you did it? Discovered your calling, that is. Blog People, please...I'm on my knees here!

5 comments:

Arthur Quiller Couch said...

What was it that you wanted to find out?
I could tell you.
For a minor fee.
Negotiable.

Chronicus Skepticus said...

Ummm...How one finds one's calling?

But fees, minor or otherwise, can only be discussed once we *know* you've got the dope?

Fair?

Sougata said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Sougata said...

The solution to your particular problem can be flowcharted in pseudo-code, using a heuristic algorithm, as follows:


Algorithm FindNiche

Start

NicheFound = NF = false;
CerebralOverload = CO = false;

While (Not NF) And (Not CO)
    Counter = 0;
    
    Answer = Introspect("What am I good at?");
    If Answer = "Zip"
        SmartThingToDo = AskAround("What will make me the most money in the shortest time?");
        If Not IsEmptyString(SmartThingToDo)
            NicheFound = True;
            Exit While;
        Else
            Print "I must talk to the right people. Not just losers on the Internet :-)";
            Continue While;
        End If
    Else
        NicheFound = True;
        Exit While;
    End If

    Increment Counter;
    If Counter > 10000000000 (give or take)
        CerebralOverload = True;
        Exit While;
    End If
End While

Halt

Comments: I don't want to bias the result of the search algorithm by making suggestions -- which means that you should somehow try to forget what I am about to say right after reading it -- but you seem to be quite good at writing. That seems like a decent profession with only one drawback: It has no bell curve to speak of. In a few years time, you will either be stepping out of your BMW and your busy schedule to sign books OR you will be hitting people up for money; there is probably nothing in the middle.

Chronicus Skepticus said...

Sougata,

No! No! Suggestions which bias, are *exactly* what we're looking for... very-helpful-algorithm notwithstanding. :)


Re: Right people, losers on the internet.
You don't know 'em till you know 'em, do you? And by then it's too late!


Re: Writing
Thank you *so* much.

*all misty-eyed*