Weis, Tricks, Vulcans, and Pencils

The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao – Lao Tzu.

Tao means ‘the way’. So apparently, while they revered him as a spiritual guru, no one in China ever asked him for directions when they saw him on the street.

Imagine. You are on a way to an interview, to meet the Grand Panjandrum in Lao Tzu’s city. You are applying for the job of imperial street sweeper, and carrying one of those long bamboo sticks with bristles at the other end, meant to sweep up debris from the public byways. Never call a broom, a broom (or an earth inverting implement, with a long handle and grip on one end, and a metal plate attachment at the other end –  a spade, if you can help it. It will help when you finally set up your own consultancy startup. Word to the wise). You are already ten minutes late, sweating, and shitting bricks (I have always wondered about that metaphor – you would have to have a rather specialized assembly line, to produce those. Just saying). 

Your parents are going to kill you, if you do not get this prestigious job. “Look at your brother! He has already made it to chief chopstick inspector. And he looks decent and respectable. Wears his long hair in a queue, like any proper young man should do. You sit around with your short hair, and play the Guquin all day.  No, you are never going to play the background during Jet Li fight sequences! Do not come back if you do not get this job!”. No one seems to know the right way to reach the office. You run up to this venerable old man, who from the look in his eyes, is self-realized. He KNOWS. “Please tell me the way to the panjandrum’s office?!”. “The way that can be spoken, is not the eternal way machan.” Guess where the broom goes?

Oh, and remember to thank whatever forces you believe in, that you do not have to study Chinese history. This is an actual excerpt from Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gao_Huan):

“In spring 543, another sexual wrongdoing by Gao Cheng would lead to a new campaign between Eastern Wei and Western Wei. The official Gao Zhongmi (高仲密, Gao Aocao's brother), already fearful over his situation because one of Gao Cheng's major assistants, Cui Xian (崔暹), had tried to pick his faults after he divorced Cui Xian's sister, was further aggravated when Gao Cheng tried to rape his second wife, Li Changyi (李昌儀). He therefore surrendered the important garrison of Hulao (虎牢, in modern Zhengzhou, Henan) to Western Wei. Yuwen led his troops to try to come to Gao Zhongmi's aid and further again seize the entire Luoyang region, but was repelled in a major battle near Luoyang, during which both Yuwen and Gao Huan were nearly killed in battle, with Heba Sheng, then a Western Wei general, nearly killing Gao with a spear. (In retaliation, Gao Huan later had all of Heba's sons who remained in Eastern Wei territory executed.) By summer 543, the Western Wei forces had withdrawn, and the entire Luoyang region was again under Eastern Wei control.”

Yes. That made things very clear, thank you. And that, is one paragraph. Your history unit test? It would have been on a few hundred such incidents, if not more. But they do seem to have lived it up, don’t they? This Wei, and that Wei…  Anywei, moving on… That said, let us begin.

I am back after a long lowatus (I am never high), thanks to this friend of mine. So, this same really ‘cool’ friend asked me today, if I had ever done any of those silly conjuring tricks when I was in school (Just for the record, cool in Tamil, is jillu. Cruisin’ for a bruisin’, right there…. LOL!). I told her I had not. But I did see one of the greatest magic tricks ever performed, when I was in the seventh standard. Yes, I went to school, all you doubting Thomases and Lot’s wives! No. Not lotsa wives. She was the lady who turned back to look at Sodom, and was transformed into a pillar of salt. Sodom being a little relevant to the said magic trick (Rather coincidentally). To the disappearance trick, forthwidth (No, not a typo. Wait for it)!

Three of us were sitting on the bench, with me on the extreme left (You will see how this incident created my phobia of these ‘centrists’). The kid on the extreme right was asked a question, and stood up to answer. My friend who was at the center, had just sharpened his pencil, and was looking at it the way Good Will Hunting probably looked at the math problem on the blackboard, before solving it. And just as the rightist sat down, the centrist placed the pencil under him, with extreme dexterity, and care. Sharp point up. And voila! Exit – the pencil. It disappeared! I shit thee not (Rather inappropriate usage of metaphor in this case, I admit), gentle reader, whilst thou cringe.

In his defense (The penciller’s, not the penicillin’s), it was a rather small one. The pencil, that is. We used pencils till they became stubs. Ummmm….  I shall cease and desist on that point – the imagery is not too conducive to how much we actually knew anything, about the birds and the bees (See earlier post explaining this – if you have the patience). But, damn! The pencil disappeared. I cannot stress this enough. But then, neither could the guy who received it.

A turning point in my life, because that was the first time I heard Scandinavian Black Metal vocals. Even more, that boy could have grown up to be Mariah Carey’s voice trainer. I mean, the dogs for a few square meters around the school went berserk, because of the pitch of his voice. No. You should use a dog whistle instead. Do not try this at home. Or anywhere else, for that matter. This trick was actually pretty straight. Not a revolution, or thankfully, even a rotation. But it lent a whole new interpretation to the expletive ‘up yours’. This was no mere pencil pusher, who performed the trick.

Talking of which, have you heard about QUASARs? ‘Quasi Stellar’ objects? They apparently are the result of mass from the core of a surrounding galaxy, under the influence of the black hole's gravity, falling onto the black hole's accretion disk. I saw one that day. That goddamned pencil was definitely Quasi Stellarse!

And talking about space travel, and new dimensions that you arrive in by travelling through a black hole… I wonder where that pencil ended up. We will probably have to watch Inter Stellarse, to find out. I mean, that pencil… It was the Starship Enterprise’s equal – “to boldly go where no man had gone before”! I bet you that kid probably never watched a single episode of Star Trek for the rest of his life, without forwarding the intro. And, I also bet you he was glad Mr. Spock was not around. Let us look at this situation in the context of a few of Mr. Spock’s famous quotes:

“You speak of the objective hardness of the Vulcan heart, yet how little room there seems to be in yours.” Yes, Mr. Spock. But unfortunately, the human arse too, has no room for the objective hardness of a pencil.

“That position Mr. Scott, would not only be unavailing, but also undignified.”  Say that to someone who is bent over with a pencil stuck in his arse, Mr. Spock. I dare you. I double dare you!

“The fact that my internal arrangement differs from yours, doctor, pleases me to no end”. That is exactly what the kid did not say to the doctor, after arriving at the hospital. And can we stop talking about ‘ends’ already, Mr. Spock??!! Thank you, very much.

“It is curious how often humans manage to obtain that which you do not want.” Ya think, Mr. Spock??? Here I was, always dreaming I would obtain a pencil in my colon.

“Has it occurred to you that there is a certain inefficiency in constantly questioning me on things you’ve already made up your mind about?” Aw gee, I am sorry Mr. Spock… I just asked you if that is a pencil stuck up my arse. I mean, it sure feels like one. But you see, I just seem unable to turn around, and see it.

“Captain, I see no reason to stand here, and be insulted”. Stop complaining Mr. Spock! I probably will not be able to sit down for a long time to come.

“An ancestor of mine maintained that if you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the solution.” No shit Sherlock? Literally. And what do you think the pencil up my arse is Mr.Spock? Impossible, or improbable? Because it sure feels possible, and very painfully prob(e)able.

“Fascinating is a word I use for the unexpected; in this case, I think interesting would suffice.” You know, I would have gone with interesting too, Mr. Spock. Really. You have no idea how much I expected this to happen. Interesting….

“Captain, your analysis of the situation was flawless – anticipating that she would deny you admittance. However, the logic by which you arrive at your conclusion escapes me.” I anticipated denial of admittance too Mr. Spock. But the evidence by which I arrived at this conclusion, is something that refuses to escape me.

“You may find that having is not so pleasing as wanting. This is not logical, but it is often true.” Well, let me enlighten you Mr. Spock. In this situation neither wanting, or having, are pleasant. I know what I am talking about. Believe me.

“It is somewhat stimulating. You seem to be moving very slowly, doctor. Fascinating.” Not even bothering with the response to this one. ROTFLMAO!!!

It was magic all the way. Here’s the proof: “Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird, or a man (Or a pencil). He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal (And unsharpened). But of course, it probably is not. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary (How can you disagree with this?). Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know (You know you don’t want to look. You know you don’t to know). You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back (Aye, and there is the difficult part). That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call "The Prestige".” QED.

Let me leave you with some more really ‘straightforward’ information to ‘chew on’. “A pencil marked “HB” is hard and black, a pencil marked “HH” is very hard, and a pencil marked “BBB” is really, really black! Today, however, most pencils using the HB system are designated by a number, such as 2B, 4B or 2H to indicate the degree of hardness. For example, a 4B would be softer than a 2B and a 3H harder than an H.” 

No, you perverts. I do not know what kind of a pencil it was, to this day. 

LCN, Birds and Bees, Ostrohips and Hairy Plodder

"Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pitch and moment in this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action."

- Shakespeare (Hamlet)

I sort of like that line a lot... difficult to understand.. but has nice ring to it, wot? I think what the Hamlet dude is saying, is something to the effect of "Wassup?" I maybe wrong of course, and he may be talking about the deforestation of the Amazon basin and how it affects the 'natives'. Or whether the ball will spin because of the showers on the 'pitch' yesterday... Or that electricity/'current' supply in Bihar is not up to the mark... Or the new 'action' flick Rambo, sucks... Take your pick... And that said let us begin.

I've been planning this one a long time, and now it's time to deliver. And before you ask, no, I am not a part time gynaecologist. I owe Sheetal this post, big time. As a taggee (person who's been tagged - my contribution to the queen's English), I was supposed to answer five questions, all of which are things I'd rather not address in my usual, serious, concise prose (posts on family, friends, love etc.). Not because of anything else, but for the fact that I value my miserable hide. I'd make very poor shoes or handbags or sofa upholstery. Especially, family. I mean the LCN (No, not Liver Candy Nose, its La Cosa Nostra) can't shine a candle to my family when they get it into their minds to enforce Omerta..... "Sleeping with the fishes" would seem a lovely holiday. Can you imagine waking up to make your own coffee? AAAAAA!!!! Yes, I'm a lazy bastard.... but on the other hand...unlike y'all, I 'wake up and smell the coffee'. So, who's a bigger idiom, now?

Talking about 'sleeping with fishes' (sticking to my usual habit of sticking to one topic - laser focus ha, ha), apparently mermaids used to seduce sailors in days of yore.Ummmm.. aren't mermaids supposed to be fish from the waist down?? So, how would a mermaid seduce... Well, to each man, his own.... But if any of my learned audience can figure out how this was done, do write in...and fill in what seems to be a vital gap in my knowledge of the birds and the bees (and mermaids apparently).

On another related topic why 'birds and bees' I always wondered. I mean most of my knowledge on the subject was from wildlife documentaries, in general. And of course, from flowers touching each other at crucial times during song sequences in true Indian movie fashion, in particular. Like any competent Indian adolescent (I could be wrong here - about the 'competent' bit and probably also the 'any' bit), I'd assumed that that's what really happened. Which on the whole didn't do me any good. Ever see this documentary where the female praying mantis bites off the head of the male, while in the act of procreating, or the one which has huge ugly Elephant seals cavorting on the beach?? Well, all things considered, not the best of images. According to the all seeing oracle, governing my life (in this particular instance it goes by the name of 'Wikipedia', usually it goes by the name 'the missus') the terms 'birds and bees' comes from a Cole Porter song (which was titled 'Let's do it' - interesting coincidence wot, wot?). Apparently the lines go like this:

Birds do it, bees do it
Even educated fleas do it
Let's do it, let's fall in love

At least, there is something to be said for educated fleas. They're also called MBA's, apparently. Consequently the song could be re-written to be "Even MBA's do it". And if they do it, anyone can. Obviously - remember George Dubya Bush is an MBA from Harvard - the very first American president to hold that degree - need I say more?? But why 'birds and bees' I fail to see. Why not 'Hippopotami and Ostriches'? (I don't seem to have lost my 'Ostrich Fantasy' as Sheetal calls it...) Hmmm... can you imagine the outcome if a Hippo and an Ostrich did it? Apart from presumably, a squished Ostrich. An Ostrohip, perhaps? This would probably be something for the next Harry Potter book. There will obviously be another one (would you give up on such a big money spinner, even if you were Rowling in the stuff, like J.K currently is?)

Speaking of which, here are some plausible plots for the next book/movie in the long and boring (and largely unknown parts of the) history of Hairy Plodder, Herwhiny Grunger, and Runt Measly:

Warning: Rated PGA (Parental Guidance Advised) - I could never figure out why parents would 'guide' their children to see or hear any stuff rated PGA or which kid would ask his parents for 'guidance' about this new tape thats got some really 'nice, new' words, or that video featuring the latest Playboy Bunnies??!! As far as these things went, in my era, we used to to consider them PGA too. But PGA stood for Parental Guidance Avoidable.

Anyways, if the PGA tag hasn't piqued your curiosity and made you want to read on... God help you.

Hairy, Herwhiny and Runt together discover a radical new method of lighting up their long, dreary and unnecessary nocturnal adventures at Warthogs, without using their wands. The movie of the book is a blockbuster... Eminem does the 'incendiary' title track, covering a number by his 'dear friend' Elton John and summarizing the radical new method of lighting ... "Candle in the ass" goes multi-platinum!!

Hairy and Herwhiny experiment extensively on Runt Measly, and prove that the fourth deadly curse can be used to cure certain conditions. They patent it and become millionaires. Runt Measly is never known by the same name again. 'Lettherebe Viagra!!" is an 'outstanding' success!

Principal Dumbodork perceives the great threat to Hairy’s life and proceeds to instruct him in the only skill that will help Hairy overcome the odds. Hairy is instructed in the ancient art of ‘buggery’ (that’s Chinese magic for getting rid of Mosquitoes, and not anything else you might be thinking of).

Hairy moves to another game, which has simpler rules than Quidditch. A leader flies around the field trying to catch an Ostrohip, which predictably cannot fly, while opposing team members pair off as klotzwinkles (centre right backward positions), who try to sing the Warthog anthem while drinking fermented dragon milk at the same time, boozetinkles (up, down and anywhere positions), who try to goose each other with their wands while trying to prevent the klotzwinkles from singing, by banging loudly on the drums that are carried by the swingledingles (there go your goolies position), who try to stop the leader (I’ve lost my marbles position) by giving him broomstick wedgies. No one wins until everyone loses. Games often continue for days, by which time the leader develops a castrato tone due to the number of wedgies. This may be the reason the game is called Squishit.

Hairy discovers that he can speak Parsley tongue, the language of vegetables. The rest of the book is a conversation between him and a stalk of Spinach. The book is considered to be more interesting all the other Hairy Plodder books put together. The fans lap it up as unquestioningly, as usual. The book is critically acclaimed and gives rise to a huge burst of demand for Spinach. Third world agrarian countries prosper. J.K Rowling wins the Nobel Prize for Economics (the committee for the Nobel prize for literature having to be committed to an asylum after reading the book).

If you’re a Harry Potter fan, and would like to see me in the near future, please do make an appointment. I’m in the process of collating reasons why I’d rather not meet you in person (refer line on shoes, handbags and sofa upholstery in para 2).

Idiots, Ostriches, Alfred.E.Neuman, Spaceships and Parathas

"Mit der Dummheit kämpfen die Götter selbst vergebens". (Against Stupidity, the Gods Themselves Contend in Vain)

- Friedrich von Schiller, Jungfrau von Orleans (Maid of Orleans)


This guy (Schiller) was apparently a contemporary of Goethe. The surprising thing is that he got this at an age when I would assume there were lesser number of idiots around. I shall prove this conclusively in the following part of this blog (assuming that proof is required for something that I, Mahesh, contend is true...). Yes, all this and modesty too... That said, let us begin.


But first, after a long hiatus, I am back, and I'm sure all my readers who were clamoring for more are extremely gratified. There was a vast number of people (ummm.. OK!! Three, if you really MUST know!!! ) who respectfully enquired as to my health, when I took a brief respite from blogging. "Has he become sane" they wondered, "Has he stopped blogging" they wondered. And then they decided that it wasn't that big a loss to mankind, and went on with their lives. Genius should never expect to get appreciated in its own time. Actually, when I made a formal announcement to a certain section of my friends that I would be blogging again, they were deliriously happy, and there was dancing in the streets. It had nothing to do with the fact that we were all several pitchers of beer down (several pitchers each, not several collectively- you understand) that day, I'm sure (the dancing, not my blogging again). Hmmm... maybe 'deliriously' wasn't the best word to use in that context?


I'm concerned. Yes, me. For those of you who know me, this will be reason for concern - that Mahesh is concerned about ANYTHING. "I mean, this is the guy who's only major concern in life is walking straight!! And even that concern, only emerges after those looong Saturday night parties!! Well actually Sundays too.. and maybe another three or four days in the week.. but not too many, mind you...") Ah, gentle reader, as much as the Ostrich in my constitution tries to assert itself.... I am unable to bury my head in the sand and pretend that the problem does not exist.


OK, for those of you who are woefully uninformed about Ostriches (how anyone can not know about this in the present day and world I can't understand. I mean, after all, isn't the life and times of Ostriches part of every elementary schooling curriculum?), let me save you a trip to Wikipedia. For some time in the past it was assumed that the response of this avian equivalent of Einstein, to danger, was to bury its head in the sand and hope that it would go away (the danger, that is). A most educated response, I must say. On a completely different note, there's something that I've always wanted to do. Find an Ostrich with its head in the sand; give it a swift kick in the butt, and run away before it pulls its head out. Whoa! Now that's my idea of fun!! Well, for those of you who don't appreciate this, just picture yourself as the Ostrich, and your flow of emotions (and expletives) when this happens to you.. geddit? Ha, Ha! A word to the wise though. Apparently Ostriches kick, and a kick from an ostrich can apparently disembowel a Lion. So once you kick the Ostrich, you'd better run like you were the Ostrich, and your tail feathers were on fire. I mean, if it were to kick you a little lower, you wouldn't be disemboweled. You would be Dis-somethingelsed. And believe me, disemboweling would be better than getting dis-somethingelsed.


OK.. enough said about avian genius, lets move on to my pressing 'concern'. I see so much about 'Global Warming' 'Global Pollution Levels' 'Global Warfare' etc., and I'm concerned. Concerned that we're missing out on the biggest threat to all mankind. "Global Stupidity'.


There are signs all around us that people are becoming more and more stupid, and we just refuse to acknowledge this. And even if the rest of you don't see this happening, I do. Let me prove it to you. Over the last few years, the kind of statements that I hear around me/ questions I've been asked/people I've met, have led me to believe that while the amount of IQ in this world is constant, the number of people sharing it is steadily increasing. You go do the math. There was this friend of mine who asked me recently if I knew any men who were handsome, erudite and rich (and before you let your imagination wander... the friend was of the female gender. Wander about the friend, I meant, not about me. Obviously). "Erudite"??? I mean what kind of person 'digs' an 'erudite' male??? Sounds like some kind of fat person.. Well its any day better than 'Hirsute' I guess...Hmmm... anyways those kind of questions are the ones I'm talking about. The only person who I know answers that description (handsome erudite etc. not hirsute) is this iconic American called Alfred.E.Neuman (this time, no spoon feeding. Go Wiki!!). This youth has been at the forefront of the fight against stupidity since 1954 (and has aged surprisingly little).


His contributions to the fight against stupidity range from becoming the mascot of one of the most 'erudite' (do you hear me snigger?) magazines to come out since the dawn of time, to making earth shatteringly logical statements such as:


"It's not the ups and downs in life that are problem. It's the jerks"


and


"Most people have minds like concrete - all mixed up and permanently set"


Well, I didn't in all sincerity suggest Alfred to her. But yes, the fact remains that more and more people are asking questions like that. Just today, someone asked me "How do you maintain your beard?" I was stumped. I was tempted to say "I have this guy who comes in every weekend dude? And then gives me the works with a lawn mower and a pair of gardening shears... Amazing what those instruments can do". Well, I can't imagine what his reaction would have been, had I said this..(And no!! He gives my beard the works!!! My beard you hear??!! Before all your itinerant imaginations go to work again..) Well that question was actually tolerable. As compared to people, who come up to me when I'm eating and ask me "Having lunch a?". What does it look like?? "No, oh my god!! how could you even think that?? This is how I excrete." Or, "Had a hair cut a?" (the 'a' is mandatory in Indian English. I think it qualifies as a genitive form of the adverb declined in the past participatory tense. And its Geni 'tive' geddit? Geni 'tive'). My answer to the hair cut problem was "No, its winter. I usually moult in winter".


The high point came when some one mailed me recently and wrote "pls feel me for any clarification required". Excuse me?? What made it worse (in a perverse way of course...) was that this was from a male colleague.. Not that receiving such a statement from a female colleague would have me shouting from the rooftops in joy, I must confess. Well, this is when the stupidity barrier kicks in. The stupidity barrier is something like the "Jedi Force" (remember your physics? Electromagnetic, gravitic, weak, strong and Jedi forces? The five fundamental forces?) The effect of the barrier is to make you wish, that you lived "once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away" (if you can't connect Jedi force with that phrase... I have only one suggestion.. Wiki the phrase and look for specific topics that have 89.4% relevance. I'm assuming that if you've read this far, you don't have anything better to do)


So, in response to the mail, I put on my velvet smoking jacket, sat down and composed this exquisitely polite and immensely insulting mail to the interlocutor in question.(Does the use of 'interlocutor' make me an 'erudite' person? Hah!!) I expected him to cringe in discomfort, squirm in the throes of my masterly, rapier sharp, wit. I miscalculated.


What I received back as a response was broad sweeping swathe of utter imbecility, with a vote of thanks for having replied, a copy to my superior asking him if I was right, and of course and invitation to "feel me for any 'further' clarification" (punctuation inserted by author i.e. the person with whom your present interlocutor is in the habit of identifying with, by means of the perpendicular pronoun - in other words, they were inserted by I. Nice grammar there, wot?? More evidence of my erudition or your not having heard about Anthony Jay and Jonathan Lynn - take your pick. I'd prefer you pick the first option, though. "My erudition" - sounds kinky huh? ). Anyways, the stupidity barrier kicked in again. The man was simply impervious to sarcasm and wit. It was I who was left cringing and squirming at my inability to permeate the dense screen of idiocy surrounding him. I was also left cringing at my inability to kick him in the family jewels (goolies if you must... do ostriches have family jewels? Hmmmm....) resoundingly.


The cut to the chase being, that stupid people are impervious to the fact they are stupid!! There is nothing you can say, short of "you dumb m*&%af*%$a!!!" (And if you don't know what that means.. go figure. And no, I don't think wikipedia has a section on this particular turn of phrase). Does anybody realize that these people are breeding like mice? (if not Ostriches.. I shall keep the breeding habits of Ostriches for another day) And since they are in a majority already (stupid people, not ostriches - bird brains!!), one day this world is going to be run by them. In fact, there's enough evidence all around that it's already being run by them. Just watch the news on T.V for justification.


The only way to solve this problem is to leave them and fly away to another galaxy, far far away (to take a page out of Douglas Adam's book, but in the reverse - the idea, not the page). I have the plans for the spaceship. Donations are welcome. Once I have it built, I shall decide who gets to fly away. Depending on what kind of donations are received. Beer is the most favoured form of donation though, as it helps me think better on the intricacies involved in designing such an advanced technological invention. I've put in an order for a dozen Mice, three Pigeons, one Yeti, and of course, one Ostrich, to power the new bionic engine for this spaceship. If this doesn't impress you, and send you running to buy me beer, then I'm sorry. You'll just have to deal with being left behind; when all us smart people fly to the galaxy, far far away. Which connects in with my earlier point on being surprised at Von Schiller recognizing this epidemic of stupidity, so early in the century. There must definitely have been lesser idiots then, than exist now… Hence proved (Hah!!)


In the eternal words of my hero Alfred.E.Neuman, "A fool and his money are soon parted". In the eternal words of my hero Alfred.E.Neuman's biggest fan (me of course, do you really deserve a place on my spaceship??) "People who wake up in the morning, wondering whether to scratch their watches, or wind their asses are the world's biggest problem, today"


On a tangential topic, I came upon an alternate form of life a week ago. It was called a 'Kerala Paratha'. This thing insidiously cons you into putting it into your innards, and then clogs your internal plumbing for a minimum period of three days. The only way to dislodge it is a strong dose of "Kiwi Drainex" or some industrial strength pipe cleaning solution. You realize you've made a mistake, when you put it into your mouth and then realize that it has exquisite texture and subtle taste of a cycle tire left out in the sun for three and a half days. But by then, it has control over your mind and you have to swallow (add to it the fact that spitting food out isn't completely accepted in all levels of our society, even today). My only advise to you, the next time you see one of these things eyeing you is.. Run. And if you're in time, you might even catch the spaceship carrying all the clever people to the galaxy, far far away.