Gandhigiri Is A Failed Concept

BALD, OLD MOTHERFUCKER

What exactly the government’s problem with Anna Hazare wanting to fast is hard to understand, especially now that it is becoming clearer that he’s doing it all for publicity and doesn’t care all that much about eradicating corruption.

Gandhigiri is a concept that failed the moment it came into being. Keeping your head bowed before your oppressors, turning the other cheek – hey, if I slapped somebody and they showed me the other cheek, I would slap them again.

Gandhi himself was a dull guy who wrote the most boring book ever, so it would do people good to stop hailing him as some kind of a hero, because he wasn’t one. He was just a very nice guy, but we’ve all been nice guys at some point, and don’t we know what happens to nice guys? They get fucked over.

Here’s an example: When the Sri Ram Sene invaded a Mangalore pub and harassed the youngsters there, the dumbfucks of our country launched a ‘pink chaddi campaign’. The girls sent pink underwear to the Sene chief Pramod Mathalik, but apart from getting nationwide coverage, the campaign didn’t do anything. Oh yeah, it made the girls feel important.

FUCKING DICKHEAD

Now imagine the members of Sri Ram Sene surrounded by several pissed-off youngsters and getting the thrashing of a lifetime. Does that sound more effective?

Candlelight vigils, signing online petitions, protest marches, sending pink panties to extremists – none of these Gandhian tactics have ever worked… or to put it another way, they have never worked.

When a child is sulking because it wants to, you let it sit in the corner and sulk.

On this Independence Day, India should start freeing itself of empty vessels like Anna Hazare and Baba Ramdev. Let the motherfuckers fast for as long as they want can and get coverage till the media and the public are bored of them, because the moment they’re told they can go ahead and fast is when you’ll see them gulp.

READ: Adolf Hitler Was Cooler Than Mohandas Gandhi

READ: India’s Republic Day

Movie Review – RGV’s Not A Love Story

Movie Review: Flexing With Monty (2010)

By Devdutt Nawalkar

Directed by John Albo

Starring Trevor Goddard, Rudy Davis, Sally Kirkland

Some salient scenes from Flexing With Monty, now burned into my shrivelled mind:

(1) A buff, exercise-freak called Monty fucking a blow-up doll. Later on, he does an encore with a life-size, stuffed polar bear.

(2) Said exercise freak feeling impulse to clench his supposed brother Bertin’s naked buttocks while the latter’s asleep.

(3) Monty remembering getting a massage in the nude from his grandmother.

(4) Bertin always carrying a red scarf tucked between his legs, staring at a candle in the dark, getting hard and imagining the scarf turn to flesh.

(5) Bertin dreaming that he’s growing pregnant with his mother before having the foetus disgorged off by his shrewish grandmother.

(6) Bertin bringing back an exotic animal from the pet store to keep in his room, it being a bald, masturbating midget.

(7) Some nun conjuring images of a post-nuclear holocaust world where man’s been knocked back to primeval slime, and women are laying eggs in marshes. “DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO LAY EGGS IN A MARSH??”

(8) Monty lowering his tights to fart in the nun’s face.

(9) Nun also disclosing to Bertin that he was conceived on the haunches of a horse.

(10) Bertin eventually kissing his mother on the mouth.

Did I just see that? Flexing With Monty has got to be one of the most absurd, laugh-out-loud mindfucks I’ve ever seen. Directed by John Albo, the movie has been in the works for fourteen years, and has now earned the dubious honour of being the most delayed film in history. Starring the late Trevor Goddard (the first Mortal Kombat movie, the guy who gets beat up by Sonya in her first match…Kano, there you go) in the eponymous role, this amateurly-acted, and outrageously lewd and deranged movie will push all kinds of buttons and make you come out with rare insight into how fucked you are in the head to have had put yourself through it.

Monty is a Phy. Ed. teacher at a school, and a gym freak for the other twenty four hours of the day. He lives with his younger brother Bertin (Rudy Davis) inside what looks like a deserted hangar. Monty is built like a mother but is slightly simple-minded, dreams of becoming the head of athletics at his school, abstains from substance abuse, and is a raving homophobe and anti-feminist. His brother Bertin is his polar opposite; slim, into philosophy and other intellectual pursuits to the extent that it leads Monty to conjecture that all the stuff inside Bertin’s head results in the perpetually constipated look he carries. Bertin’s been looked after by Monty since the age of five, prior to which he was in an orphanage, presumably because Monty was too young to care for the baby. The brothers are generally fond of each other. You can take that as you may. The film runs through their lalaland existence, ultimately trying to unravel their dead parents’ identity which Monty has withheld from his brother all along.

Trevor Goddard died a few days after filming the final shot. What a way to go! He plays up his caricature to the T, strutting and posing like Atlas-incarnate, showing superb comic timing, probably unintentional at that. I mean..”You look like the mummied remains of an anorexic school girl”? “You damned faggets eat fried ratcunt and dessicated penises the morning after ya’ll bugger each other, don’t ya?” And that’s nothing, there’s tons more obnoxious stuff practically littered through the movie. The guy playing his brother is horrible, but ludicrously funny with his pearls of ontological wisdom. The nun is played by one-time softcore starlet Sally Kirkland, a character central to the film’s resolution as it is (hah!).

Monty dies at the end. His last words are, “Are my muscles sagging?”

All but one, Monty. All but one.

Imposter Alert

Fuck Off Nowadays Imposters

As if there aren’t enough fake Aditya Mehtas doing the rounds, now there’s an Alok Mehta who has a blog called Mehta Kya Kehata. Excuse the spelling, it’s as crappy as his blog. Get original, you losers.

Click here to take a look at the shitty content on his blog and Alok’s stupid face.

Make no mistake, there’s only one Mehta Kya Kehta? and only one Aditya Mehta…the one in the pic here.