Large media conglomorate seems to have won this round, small weblog site Mediaah! has been made to shut down. But, cliche time now, while the battle might have been lost, the war can yet be won.
I think.
I spoke to a senior editor yesterday about this and he commented that the laws in India are not well framed enough on this front. Another journo commented, what if the media conglomorate files from say Sikkim, will the owners of the said blog travel back and forth on their own money and time. And of course, that is before we even consider the great morass that is the Indian judicial system.
Oh well!
Moving on, had a breakfast assignment today. was made to eat. Here is unedited copy that flowed from empty head and full stomach.
I was told to be a decent food writer I must commune with the food. Bellyflop with arms wide open into a sea of maple syrup. Hmm, that would be quite a sticky situation. I would rather done a bellyflop into the Laphroaig distillery. But, I’ll try nonetheless.
Breakfast is not a meal that I usually take very seriously, I like communing with my pillow. A lot. Food is something that I do like, maybe even more than sleeping. If gluttony is a sin, I’ll use the Nuremberg defence, “I was ordered to be a glutton.” Well, at least in this case.
One of the first things I learnt when I went into the kitchen was how to make eggs. My best efforts at frying an egg sunny-side up led to abject failure, which in this case meant scrambled eggs. I have no hesitation in saying that I love eggs. It is a relationship that has blossomed over the years, cholestrol be damned. And well made scrambled eggs are pure heaven.
And that in itself is a good reason to wake up early and head to the All American Diner. The Betty Boop and Popeye posters on the wall might be a bad throwback to pre World War II animation, but a plate full of eggs, sausages, bacon, pancakes and potato hash is a good salve to make your mind forget.
You forget the downsides of the place that you are eating in, like the fantastically clear tables, a lack of fat jovial man working the skillet and sitting next to a bunch of old retired men discussing politics. They might call it the All American Diner, but no matter how much I tried, the memory of a truck stop on the I-95 from New York to Boston played back in my head. Somehow, sitting next to big tattooed truck drivers eating greasy eggs and sausages in a dirty diner, seems more American to me.
That said, the food was great. Good food should not be ruined by conversation with others. Switch off your mobile phone and dig in, don’t be gentle, the best thing about etiquette is the ability to forget it at times. Watching the maple syrup drip off the pancake as you pick it up in your fork is a sight to marvel at. Just don’t do it for too long, else you might get a large dry-cleaning bill. And it was a damn good pancake too. Unfortunately, the sausages were a bad let down, instead of getting big wholesome lumps of flesh, the little things I got can not qualify even as bite-sized.
Oh well, no wonder they have the ‘Glutton Special’, it’s an all you can eat option on the menu and it runs from 7-11 in the morning. And god knows how much I ate. Forgive me lord, for I have sinned. I should really go to confession, this love affair with eggs seems a bit peculiar.
I was told by an ed. that it was better than Big Cheez. But, then said ed. is foodie and he hates Big Cheez. That said, a compliment, actually any compliment from said ed. feels bloody good. Any comments on article are most appreciated.
Life has been a bit shitty today, despite the great grub, because I'm off to Bangaho tomorrow. Early in the frigging morning. F**k. I hate early morning flights. And Bangaho means I'll have to party with Monkeyman tomorrow, which means that I won't get no sleep till saturday night. But, I guess the party will more than make up for the lack of sleep.
And if you thought the American media were all liberal, here is someone with a wildly opposing point of view. Chuck Asay, the cartoonist for the Denver Post is scarily right wing. I mean everytime I see some of his cartoons I have read a lot of Ted Rall to understand where the middle exactly is.
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1 comment:
" the best thing about etiquette is the ability to forget it at times" Gotta love that line :-)
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