Who do I tell about the moon now?

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Necessary Administrative Absurdities

Some of us recently got an email from a higher up at work. It set me off for a bit. I thought it was a disgrace to a profession such as mine, where driven people strive for years and years to a get relatively low paying jobs that mostly offer freedoms and security. Rather than shoot back a bilious outrage of an email, I decided I'd take the reductio ad absurdum route. Because my feelings affect no one and nothing, I might as well have a bit of fun with the source of consternation.  The email says things like " I completely understand academic freedom... but logging in and off with biometrics is mandatory... ". I have NEVER experienced this in the twenty years that I have been in different research and academic organisations in India and abroad, nor have I heard of it from my father. Having to log in is usually for people who come in to work for only for a pay-check, who would rather not come in at all if that was an option, like it is on the weekends or holidays. At least
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Ailing Curiosity bibeebee BEEP....... bibeebeeBEEP .......... bibeebeeBEEP. .... hmmmmm.... guud morning...... what time is it?...... nearly seven... no biking today.... mmmmmm.... let's sleep in . ... zzzz.... maybe not.... If Jawahar Bhaiyya wakes up... it'll be an hour before I can use the bathroom . Alright! Let's leave my island bed and cross the Great Barrier Reef of Clutter to get to the bathroom... And so started my Sunday morning. People are astounded by how/why I wake up early on Sunday. Frankly, I have nothing better to do. The world averages eight hours of sleep a day, a third of its lifetime. What a waste! I wish we could do away with it entirely. But what would I much rather be doing? Something worthwhile perhaps. I would workout or go biking maybe, but it's not happening today. The other worthwhile thing would be to get some work done. ....yeaaahhhh..... Work! I need this experiment done. It'd be cool to see the phenotype. And based on where th
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Veery Real Khrishen and I were walking towards the car. The students parking lot is at a distance from the Student Carrels and Khrishen's lab. I ogle at the first car, a BMW coupe parked right in the Faculty parking. I almost want to touch it. But then my eyes veer to silver Lexus posing at a different angle. Oh... and how could I miss the Porsche GT Carerra, purring silently in the other corner. I'm thinking "What sheer propulsion it'll give. Raw, smooth power!"... "Do you want to touch it?" sneers Khrishen in his Mauritian French accent. Not quite Poirot, but pleasant anyway. "Nah... it's the thrust of the engine beckons me" I retort... and we smile. Khrishen is a year into the graduate student life and I a day into it. Judging graduate student lives is tough. At twenty four, people have set ideas of what constitutes a good day. Khrishen is happy with his Sunday. He did some clean immuno-staining today and gathered three other papers supp
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