C'mon, A-Team.

Fuck the naysayers. Fuck criticism. Wash it away with eau-de-toilette.

This is not it. Start over. Start over.

Cultural hyperlinking.

Q. Okay, I do follow you. But, tell me this, in a land so full of psychological and cultural strife, where the odds surpass the means, and where time kills creativity and chokes morality, where do you see the world headed? Is there a Grand Plan for the world? Or will this temporality be forever erased by the Big Crunch?

A. As long as there are no methodical patterns to educational growth, the human race will survive. The moment water stops reaching the branches, and the high-heads are all for how important it is for the roots to remain turgid, we will reach an existential plateau. Where even the loftiest ministrations of our contemporary philosophers will cease to work. As for a Grand Plan or a Great Purpose, I do not think there is one intended, because when we manage to conclude with the Plan, then what? Tread on, thinking that we are alright and perfection has been achieved. That is, undoubtedly, the most wayward of thoughts.

Never classify egos.

As I make my bed in that conversational pause pregnant with implied meaning, I realise that sometimes even the most pleasant of conversations are gagged by a certain no-gooder – Failure to Communicate.

Some shooting-from-the-lip and other memorabilia.

Don’t rationalize everything you say, bubblehead. I mean, whoever thought of saving your ass when you were getting picked on by the neighbourhood bully was being pretty obtuse (or a tad insouciant). Then, you’d extricate your machismo from your ranting-hat and then with a deft flick of the wrist, demonstrate how Exhibit A was perfectly in line with Exhibit B, and how Exhibit B trumped Exhibit C’s ass although Exhibit C was busy sleeping with Exhibit A’s older brother and rattling off names of movie stars before you could say ‘I’m a harangued man with a prescription’. That’s called ‘being tough on talking’; do not prove to me that nothing defeats the male ego – the minute you get confrontational, that’s the end of the line for your hypocrisy. I do not have a hedonistic beef with you, I do not like to pick on your insecurities, it’s just that it’s always that I had a hard time getting around with people who didn’t notice that every day the world turns a little, and that if you refuse to budge from your spot under the sun, you get left behind. Or worse, you don’t get Grandma’s crab-apples for supper. Which, as it goes, is profitable optioneering.