Lately In The Lankanosphere

Yes, it's back. It's been a long time since the last "lately" post in these parts, mostly because there just hasn't been much in the Lankan blogosphere that's caught my reading eye. Most of my regular reads have gone quiet or now prefer to splash out quick 140 character tweets or Facebook status updates, usually saying how much they hate Facebook's latest look, instead of sitting down and putting the effort in to write sntces + wrds tht arnt abbrvted.

Many of these former bloggers are so outrightly selfish that they concentrate on their own lives, never thinking about the enjoyment of us, their readers. And Kottu has morphed into more of an aggregator than it ever used to be. Say what you like about fixing the most read lists but there used to be a sense of interaction and community on Kottu that's no longer there. It's become like a band that have split up but get back together now and again to do a tour just for the money.

And then this week there was a shift in the Earth's vibrations, a sneeze in the Lankanosphere and my interest was captured.

First Java Jones whacked one out. Then he wrote a post. There are many blogging youngsters who are unaware of the legend that is Java Jones, of his widespread influence among many of us, not to mention that he's a cat only matched in coolness by TC. Or Huggy Bear, but he's not a cat. As a young up and coming blogger all those years ago I'd read Java's posts and wish I could write with his fluidity and sheer fucking sense of craziness. They tell me that copious amount of drug taking helps with this.

These days JJ has semi retired and spends most of his time living in the hill country. He blogs only occasionally and spends the majority of his time practicing the vuvuzela. He's one of only a handful of professional vuvuzela players in the world and is a first call session player for most of the world's top gigs. He'll deny it though, he's humble and bashful like that. You thought it was a saxaphone at the beginning of Gerry Rafferty's Baker Street didn't you? Well it's not, it's JJ, doing his vuvuzela thing.

His post is only a brief one, on his thoughts on the Wikileaks cable saga, but worth its weight in gold and it got my attention immediately. I urge you to check it out and comment demanding that he writes more.

Then Dramaqueen, usually as elusive as a huge big invisible and soundless monster who's decided to have a game of hide and seek, decided to spurt out not just one, but four posts, all in one day. Somewhere in there lurks a joke about four poster beds. I wish I was wittier, as you do probably. About me I mean, not about you. You probably think you're quite funny as it is.

The thing about DQ is that she's funny, in a slightly animal loving and sensitive way. I can imagine that an evening with her, involving drinking games and farting would be incredibly good fun, until the point that an innocent fellow cracked a joke about killing cats or breeding Christmas trees for commercial reasons. Then all hell would break loose and the farting would stop.

Grab yourself a few minutes and read her posts, my favourite is this one, the story of her first full body massage. (insert smutty joke here......) Any girl who can write about farting gets my vote every time.

DD also came out with a quickie. His blog isn't one I find easy on the eye, what with its various adverts blaring out at full volume all the time, but I'm always keen to read his perusings. The latest one is entitled the £600 haircut and it's about, well a £600 haircut. At first glance I saw the opening picture of him and assumed that he was showing us the "before the haircut" situation.

"Not a problem" I thought, a decent hairdresser should be able to tidy up that mess and do great things with it. I read on and, without giving too much away, I'll only say that I hope DD got a receipt!

Also catching the RD eye lately has been this new blog called I am. I've mentioned it before but it deserves another shout. It's an eye and earcatching combination of images and narrative, all about Sri Lanka's regional identities, told through the eyes of some highly thought provoking characters.

Dominic Sansoni himself told me the other day that it's much, much harder than it appears to put images and sound together and come up with something so special. I noticed that he was talking to his mouth was actually making the movements for the word before the one I was hearing. So it must be true then. Check it out and see for yourself.

Groundviews has gone to the shops and got itself a sexy new look for the festive season. I must admit that I can't figure out if the logo is new or if it's always been there, but I wonder if Sanjana, at the merest hint of a rights violation, rushes into a phone box, does a spin and emerges with a T shirt with the GV logo on, some extra fast slippers and his pants on the outside. Actually, as I think on it I realise that's how he was dressed last time I met him anyway. Presumably he must have been rushing to an emergency.

This post by Michael Meyler tells us Suddhas about the word "goday". I just wish I was able to pronounce it correctly without you guys looking puzzled and then laughing at me once you realise what I'm attempting to say. The esteemed Mr Meyler tells us that the nearest word to "goday" in contemporary English s the word "naff".

With the utmost respect to him I disagree. I reckon it's "chav" or "chavvy". Just ask the Auf, he'll back me on this. And talking of the Auf I've heard it on good authority that there may be a little bit of Auf love in the air. I won't tell you who's involved but let's just say that myself and Pseudorandom are currently busily writing our speeches.

The Indi.ca channel has been particularly busy of late. He points out in this post that the noughties is almost over. The fact had escaped me until I read it. Bloody hell, that's another decade gone. In my life it's fair to say that it was a pretty big one, how was it for you?

Rajaratarala, him with all the As, published this post, all about eggs, chickens and the possibility of them being imported for the festive season. Clearly it's a chicken egg situation. That's all I have to say on the matter.

That's pretty much it for now. If you want more you know where to look. It's ever so slightly awash with posts on how to make your blog look like a Christmas tree, film reviews or out of focus pictures taken on someone's mobile of Murali dancing at a party but, once you filter through all of that stuff, there are some gems to be found.

As they say in France, this isn't goodbye, just bonjour.

RD

Sue She

As a firm rice fan I remain perplexed, puzzled and ponderous on the subject of Sushi.

I can tell you now, cous cous isn't my bag of chips. Rice, as far as I'm concerned, is the best thing since sliced kiribath, not that I'm a huge fan of kiribath, but Sushi just flummoxes me.

It's all the rage over here. Walk into Tesco, M and S or any of the regular places where one can purchase a lunchtime sandwich and you'll also be confronted by a range of Sushi for a couple of quid, that's two of your sterling pounds to you foreign johnnies. It's packaged in a lovely little box and comes with a fish shaped miniature splash of soya sauce, some wasabi and often a couple of disposable chopsticks.

There are lovely colours seducing and tempting the customer. There's the pretty pink of the prawns, the bright orange of the salmon, the green of the cucumber, the black of that skin stuff and the gleaming whiteness of the sticky rice.

And every time I fall foul of this temptation I eat the Sushi and feel as though I'm fighting a losing battle. It reminds me of when I used to smoke and I'd partake of a cigar every now and then. I just never understood the attraction. Every single time I'd smoke a cigar I'd slightly enjoy the taste, the aroma and the sensation, then feel like a cigarette straight afterwards.

Eating Sushi makes me feel like I need a damn good rice and curry, full English breakfast or even a McDonalds, straight afterwards.

The chopsticks are a major factor. I always use them and wonder who on Earth thought they'd be a good implement to use for the eating of rice. One can use a fork, a spoon or ideally the fingers for the task but two wooden sticks with a slightly pointy end, to pick up grains of rice, is the sort of thing these fellows use in impossible games at the fairground in order to grab all our money. No wonder they have to make the rice sticky and lumpy. It's food design gone wrong.

The vinegary and mushy texture of the good grain is sacrilege. A paella or risotto is as far as I can go in terms of cooking and serving rice in ways that God didn't intend. Rice should be served fluffy and light, not weighed down by sogginess and a total lack of flavour. Of course these Japs supply soya sauce and wasabi with the food, otherwise there'd be no taste whatsover, just that faint hint of fish going on somewhere in the deepest recesses of the palate. We don't do subtleties of flavour that well, us Sri Lankans, do we?

I carry on with my attempts to like it though. A, my fifteen year old, absolutely loves Sushi and regularly takes it into school for her lunch. Trendy people go to Sushi bars and eat, using their chopsticks as if they're easy and intuitive like something designed by Apple.

On Sunday morning I ate chicken Sushi for breakfast. I say "ate" but it would be more accurate to say that I fought bravely through it like one of those jungle chaps with undergrowth, a long crescent shaped knife and some natives who'll get killed later on in the film.

I satisfied my hunger only in the way that becoming proficient and getting high scores on Rockband or Guitar Hero equips a person to deal with a lead singer who thinks a crotchet is something to do with knitting and a quaver is a slightly weird religious sect. I was left feeling quite full but wondering how the hell it had happened, as nothing with any flavour had crossed the threshold of my tastebuds.

The questions lingers in my mind. Do I persevere with the Sushi or give it up as a lost cause? I imagine JapSach virtually lives on the stuff, he probably goes back to Sri Lanka and makes his rice and curry into little rolls with a bit of bean or maldive fish inside just to deal with the withdrawal pangs.

As for you? I bet you love the stuff.

Or do you?

Lately Auf Das Lankanosphere...

Ja, fur zis veek ve vill in another language talk. And ze language is Cherman. Das idea vas gut ja?

Except for the fact that my German has now been exhausted. By that, I don't mean that I have a cute German girl under my desk who's now totally knackered. No, I mean I've run out of German phrases, words and umlauts and things. It's probably because I failed my German 'O' level all those years ago and, on top of that, I don't know if the Lankanosphere's male or female.

The past weeks in the Kottu world have been a hive of all sorts of activity and have certainly made for interesting reading. Even as I start this has the smell of a long post. I'd suggest that you grab yourself a cup of something, sit down, get comfortable and prepare for a longish read. Like a good asian family it's all relative and it's not a long read compared to one of Bill Shakespeare's shortest works or the average length of a Sittingnut comment.

The first thing is that the sad passing of Mohan Ariyaratne has caused many bloggers to tell of their feelings and thoughts, whether happy, sad or both. I didn't know him well, to me he was the chap at Barefoot who looked after many things, music in particular.

I don't think he knew my name but he'd always acknowledge me and we'd have a little chat, often about music. I once gave him a CD of my band with me drumming and, to my surprise, he put it on at Barefoot. It made me smile like a cheshire cat to get played there and I'd like to thank him for that.

Indi's post has got a really atmospheric and poignant picture, Dom's post is a beautifully crafted black and white portrait as only he can make with a poem to accompany and Electra's post is written in her uniquely thought provoking style. Java gives us all a bit of background and history in his particularly esoteric way.

It's been a couple of weeks but there was the perplexing story of the Lankan blogger who went and got himself arrested. Perplexing because things were hazy, facts were unclear and simply that perplexing is a word I haven't used for a while. It's unclear who the chap was, though a name has been bandied about, and exactly why and what charges have been brought, if any.

Indi tell us about it here and Aladdin, the slippered Lothario gives us some more detail here. As a blogger I find it a bit worrying, though any arrest on my person is more likely to be from the fashion Police (metrosexual division) than from a political squad.

Rajaratarala, yes him with all the As in his name, has decided to go into acting. Word has it that he's been seen busily auditioning for the latest Gillette commercial, involving a sarong clad sword wielding fiend and lots of shaving gel. He tells us a bit more about it on his captivating blog. It seems he also ran over a bloke in a garage, then pretended the chap was working under his vehicle without the aid of a jack.

Life in Taprobane is the name of the blog, Serendib Isle is the name of the blogger and Lebanon is the name of the Country, though not the Serendib one. Our S Isle has been perving travelling across Lebanon, telling us about his observations and ruminations and falling in love left, right and centre. The posts are good reading and made me want to see the place. Check them out. As an aside I wonder what they call lesbians in Lebanon.

Cerno kicked out two little nuggets that couldn't be more different yet share one thing; brilliance. Firstly we have this one about domestic bliss at home with the Cernos. It made all of us go all gushy and gooey and I even heard a rumour that it had prompted David Blacker to rush out and watch a batch of romantic comedies while eating a large bar of Swiss chocolate.

Secondly is his post on the People's republic of Dehiwala. I think he may have put the apostrophe in the wrong place but, other than that, it's an example of comedic and satirical writing at its best. I think, in reality I don't know what satirical means. As Obama would say, check it. The scariest place in the world must be inside Cerno's head. Well, after Belgium of course.

That girl, the Drama Queen, is back. If I tell you that this post mentions porn, fellatio, a Sri Lankan mother, Hi!! magazine and lines like "because only hookers dress like mums and go to Galle Face Green" I think you'll be interested. You'll laugh and laugh like a demented hyena in an interview for a million pounds a year job at the canned laughter factory. Which is to say, rather a lot. And Dinidu, Fellatio's not a Shakespearean character either. Or an Italian midfielder.

Our Gyppo has been on form lately too. This gem about her thoughts on the war, her attempts to understand and make sense of it certainly hit a home run with me, probably with many others too. Like I said in a comment I left, if more people displayed honesty like this instead of claiming to know all the answers the world would be a better place.

JapSach's gone underground, we know not why, we know not for how long nor how deep. But does anyone else ever has the strange thing happen when you read his blog? It's a thing where my internet browser keeps opening tabs for his blog. I have to do all sorts of task management things to get out of it and it only ever happens on his blog, though not all the time.

Talking of going underground, where on Earth is Kalusudda? The last we heard was July 1st when he published this post. Since then there's been nothing, no comments, no posts and no sightings. Give us a shout out KS, I for one hope you're okay and roaming around in your academic way.

To round off let's just mention the surplus of blogoversaries that has been doing the rounds. Everywhere I turn, every blog I read, every breath you take, I'll be... oops, sorry I went all Sting for a moment there. What I meant to say was that there are blogoversaries galore at the moment.

Gutterflower has passed the two year point. We like her.

Drama Queen's previously mentioned post, which I'll previously mention again, was her one hundredth, so congrats and all. She wins a night out with her Mother for that.

Then that hard hitting, courageous and ground breaking blog, the one that's helped formulate so many people's opinions and has tackled many key issues hit a nice clean one thousand posts. It's quite an achievement indeed.

Did I mention Groundviews?

That hit its thousandth post too. Nice one.

Well I'll be off then.

A merry weekend to you all. I'm going to see Muse tonight avec A and K. Can't wait.

RD

Lately In The Lankanosphere....

There are times when I read the Lankan blogs and think that there's a desperate need for a "lately" purely because of a huge volume of posts that I find highly stimulating or interesting.

Frankly this isn't one of those times. All of you see me after class. There has however, been some good sparkly stuff floating around, bits and pieces from the expected bloggers and quirky stuff from the less expected, perhaps the ones that I usually don't read. Here are some of the best bits.

Darwin, who has become a bit of a Godmother of the Lankanosphere, by hovering away in the background, not posting that often and then writing gems when she does, has given us this thought provoker. The best words are those used by Darwin. They go like this

"Seriously. This is the cheesiest, creepiest, weirdest engagement announcement I have ever come across."

And she's right. Check it out. I commented, saying that there was something cute about it. The more I think about it the less cute it feels. I feel sorry for the husband to be, but perhaps they deserve each other.

Blogaversary wishes have been winging their way across to the land of the rising Sun for JapSach, who's celebrating a year of writing his blog. I remember the days when he was young and unknown. My how he's grooown! I left a comment on one of his posts, to say that I'm a bit envious of his adventures in Japan and he thought I was being sarcastic. I wasn't. I really enjoy reading his blog and of his discoveries and adventures, thundering typhoons included.

There's been a tag doing the rounds, one about five friends bloggers have made through their blogs. I was tagged by TMS in her post about it, for which I'm rather grateful. I thought about writing my own post and naming my five friends but I haven't. Why RD, but why? I hear you shouting. Well it's because I've made many friends and writing about a mere five would cause fights and bad feeling among the people left out. DD wouldn't be in the top five, that's the only certain thing! I reserve the right to write one of these posts at some time in the future though.

Lady Divine's post about the subject should probably win an award for meeting the most bloggers. I was omitted owing to a technicality; that we've never met, though that same technicality didn't prevent our LD including DD in the list. It's like she's like kinda met everyone like. Kinda.

St Fallen has contributed his piece on the matter here. I can't quite figure out who started it and where this particular tag is now but it's a good and enthralling one, seeing who's met who and exactly how much they love each other.

A Virile Nagalingam, a blogger who I often read but don't think I've ever mentioned has kicked out two contrasting and nifty posts. First came this one, about Indian food, though AVN makes us wonder if there is such a thing. He points out that so many are quick to label food that originates in the subcontinent as being "Indian" despite the fact that there are huge differences between the food from different areas of the country.

The average Brit does exactly the same thing. Here in Londinium an Indian restaurant is an Indian restaurant. There is little distinction made between a South Indian one compared to a Northern one, let alone between errm, well, you know. But are we wrong to generalise like this? The closer you get to a place the more specific the geography becomes no? In England it's fine for me to say my parents are from Sri Lanka. In Sri Lanka I need to say my Dad's from Gampola. In Gampola I need to say where the house is. And on we go with that spiffing illustration.

Secondly from AVN comes this post. WTF, OMG and OMWTFG. I haven't a clue what he's talking about. At one point, late in the first paragraph I thought I understood something. I was wrong though. I finished reading and thought that I'd like to be able to write like that, then realised that I don't know if I'd like to write like that, because I can't figure it out. Cool. See if you can.

In the land of Indi.ca there have been some goings on. This tour of a handloom factory is an interesting couple of minutes, or coupla minutes as Indi would no doubt say. I guess it's not actually a handloom factory as such, they don't make handlooms there, but they weave and churn out sarongs and shirts. Check it out, if you're thinking of investing then buy the place too, you can you know.

Rajaratarala, that farmer geezer who everyone reads, is back with a couple of quick and readable posts. I like him, he's the sort of chap I'd love to have a drink and a chat with. But, to my Suddha vocals his name just has was too many vowels, well As, in it. I'd find it easier if he was called Roger or something similar. Either way, whether it's Roger or Rajaratarala, I think he's got most people on his side and wishing success in his direction.

On a slightly serious note this post, on Chitrangi's blog, intrigued me. It's a story alleging Police brutality in Sri Lanka. I don't think it's the first, nor methinks will it be the last. The bit that really grabbed me was when the fellow says this:

"They asked me why I had assaulted a woman. One of them dragged my shirt color and started to assault me using their hand and legs. I told them that the said woman is my wife. But they didn’t listen to me. They assaulted me further."

I don't condone the alleged violence by the Police, I don't know if it's true anyhow. But is the writer's defence, that it wasn't an assault because the woman concerned was his wife, for real? He doesn't tell us exactly what happened but it seems mad. By my standards assaulting people is wrong, whether they're married to you or not. Please have a read of this and tell me if you think I've misinterpreted the post.

Amila Salagado, the man who knows more about birds than Dominic Sansoni knows about tying sarongs, has been out and about with his sparkling new lens. So far the results have been disastrous, as you can see here with his abysmal failure to get a single bird in focus. Amila, I'll step in and offer to take the lens off your hand if things don't work out better. I'm kind like that you know. You can pay me when you've got the money.

As we come to the end of the journey, maybe not a journey but more a little stopover in the Lankanosphere, we get to the best bit. It's him, some people know him as Cerno, all I know is that the Stig worships him. I must warn you that things could go a bit oooer here, it's Sunday night, though you'll probably be reading this on Monday, and I've got Zombie by the Cranberries blasting out. It's on my "energetic" playlist and it's fanfuckingtastic, as I'm sure you know.

"In your head, in your head, they're still fighting" sing along now.

So anyway, Cerno wrote this post about elephant watching and his discomfort with it. It's an engaging one that puts across a view many wouldn't consider. In its own right it deserves a place in this "lately". But then, with that splash of inspiration only splashed about by people like Cerno he follows up with something even better, funnier and more mind blowing. I'd try to describe it and attempt to quote something from it but I'm not worthy and I might get trampled by a herd of angry elephants. Go and read it, click on the link and prepare to be unprepared.

If there was a fellow with a project to compile a book of great Sri Lankan blog posts, then these two MUST be in it.

Lastly we had the first edition of the Kottu Mag out with yesterday's Sunday Leader. I've seen it on Indi's blog but the cover I see on the Sunday Leader page consists of a link to Kottu itself, which I glance at once in a while anyway. I really like the cover, I think it's eyecatching, which is good. It's big, it's mainstream and it's positive. What will come of it, how it will be/has been received I don't know, only time will tell.

That concludes our stopover. The weeks begins and I wish you a good one, filled with all seven days and some smiling and laughing.

RD

Anyone Seen JapSach's Clock?

Clock, I said.

Check it out though, it's the best widget I've seen for a long time. I stared at it, I smiled and figured out what was what and, hand on heart, it made me smile and feel excited.

I thought his fish were cool, I thought my moving tag cloud was nifty but Sach's clock is better than any of them, even sliced. It's over there on the left on his blog.

Wishing you a happy weekend.