An Open Letter to Google re: the "Fictionality" of Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine

Dear Goo,

Can we call you that, Google? You seem like the type of innovative multinational IT-based corporation who is playful, easygoing and enjoys a good nickname. We're writing to you because over the weekend you made a horrible mistake, Goo. You suspended Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine's Google+ accounts because you believed them to be "fictional" characters. We find your lack of faith disturbing.

You can’t just arbitrarily decide to cancel a REAL PERSON’S social networking page without even telling them about it or giving them an opportunity to defend themselves first. That's not fair. It’s not like blowing up a planet, after all. 

You know Goo, for some reason a lot of people (like TIME Magazine) have called Darth Vader "fictional", despite the fact that he's been in SIX BIOGRAPHICAL MOVIES AND A TELEVISION SHOW, plus countless books, comics and video games. You can find replicas of him in almost EVERY TOY STORE ON EARTH. Does that really sound like a "fictional" character to you?

What does it even mean to be "fictional" in this day and age of carefully constructed public personas, plastic surgery and media manipulation? Don't we all choose to represent ourselves in different ways to those around us, changing chameleon-like to suit our context? Do any of us really even know the "real" us? Do you know the real Gyougle, Goo? Aren't we all just "fictional" characters in the end? As Shakespeare once said, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."

What happened to you, Goo? Who hurt you? Did you unexpectedly have your heart broken by a really Hot Young Lady Search Engine who left you for a more brooding, buffer, Bad Boy Search Engine in Search Engine High School, thus making it difficult for you to trust others? Because we'll be honest, you seem to be constantly searching for something. Something you won't find by tearing down the happiness of others, just to make them as miserable as you feel.

Should they just LIE and change their names to Dan Vader and Eugene Palpatine instead (as suggested by Scott Oldfield)? Is that what you want? Do you really want to create an online culture based on lies, where people regularly pretend to be somebody they're not? What a horrible world that would be to live in.

Maybe it's discrimination. Maybe you don't want Darth Vader and the Emperor to have an account on your precious little social network just because your slogan is "Don't be evil" and they're "evil wizards" who "took over the Galaxy" and "murdered" millions of people. Because if you're going to use "evil" as the basis for your decisions, then we can probably all agree that you'd better start by cancelling Dane Cook's account first.

On that note, how is it that the FRIGGING Hogwarts Sorting Hat, SEVERAL Lord Voldemorts AND Chewbacca still have their Google+ Profiles? Answer us that, Google. Oh, that's right, you can't, because you're a corporation. Did you know that makes YOU a fictional entity of sorts too? No, you probably don't, because you don't even have a brain or a mouth.

Or could it be that you have something against Sith Lords? Is that it, Google? We thought people had moved beyond religious discrimination in this day and age, except against the Jedi, which is totally acceptable. Doesn't your informal corporate culture extend to people who enjoy wearing a plush velour robe to work and who have different belief systems to your own that involve frying the very occasional subordinate with Force lightning? For shame, Goo. For shame. Is that really the Google we've bonded with and come to think of as a good, nay GREAT, friend during the countless hours we've spent searching the web for funny videos of people hurting themselves? Of course it's not. Don't be that search engine, Goo

Perhaps it's just that your recent affiliation with Androids has led you to be prejudiced against cyborgs. Don't get us wrong, androids have their place. Usually that place is poncing about in a black and gold unitard and wanting to become human. But can't you see that cyborgs are people too, Google? Well, mostly human. Okay, AT LEAST 42% human.

Finally, if you can't find it in your cybernetic heart to be swayed by the infallible logic and wild accusations contained above, then we're afraid we're going to have to bring out the big gun: litigation. We hate to bring up the whole copyright issue but the truth is, you owe a LOT of your success to us. Clearly the idea for Google+'s "Circles" comes from Darth Vader's classic line, "The circle is complete." 

 

Does this "Circle" look familiar to you, Google?

And don't even get us started on Google Chrome...

 

So finally, Google, remember that the Force surrounds us, binds us, and can also be used to Force choke us from great distances if we get on the wrong people's bad side. Isn't it funny that "Google" even sounds a LOT like "Gurgle", the last thing most people say when they're being lovingly throat hugged from across the room by a caring Sith Lord? What a strange coincidence that is, right Gurgle Google? Haha. Ahaha. Oh, we have such fun together, don't we Goo?

We trust this will help you make the right decision and restore Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine's Google+ accounts immediately. Otherwise you might find your planet becoming "fictional" by the weekend.

Warmest regards,

The Death Star PR Team.

on Harry Potter

The year 2000.

I still remember that day, when my father presented to me a paperback version of a certain book called 'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets'. I also remember, how after reading through the first few pages (the first chapter was called The Worst Birthday, I recollect ) I had closed the book and kept it somewhere and ... well, yes, had stopped reading it. It made no sense to me. It seemed all too imaginary and hocus-pocus for me after the fairly more realistic and less-fantastical Enid Blytons and Tintins, that had been my constant companions and sleeping partners for the past few years. (yes, don't you raise eyebrows now. flying chairs and gnomes and pixies were less fantastical than a jet of green light that killed people, or so I felt back then)

Now, however, when I look back on that day, I can only have a good laugh at the thing that was me twelve years back.

Yesterday marked the end of that era of my life that had begun on that day in the year 2000. An era that had begun in utter distaste, an era that had grown to become an inseparable part of my childhood and teenage years and an era that I feel blessed enough to have lived through.

There have been sagas and chronicles before, in English literature, as well as in English cinema. The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, The Pirates of the Caribbean, et al. Some of them are even, better than Harry Potter, I would dare say, from an absolute scale of reference.

But something set Harry Potter apart, right from its conception. Something made the child wizard connect with us. Something about Harry Potter, about Hogwarts, about Ron Weasley, about Hermione Granger, about Albus Dumbledore, about the rest of the Wizarding community. Reached within us. Identified with us. Something that Luke Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi, and Princess Leia couldn't do. Something that Frodo, Gandalf and Bilbo Baggins couldn't do either.

I guess, one factor that made it special was how the story of Harry's life unfolded with that of our own. It was as if Harry Potter was one of us. He was eleven years old when the story began. We were of a similar age too, when we started reading the books. His schooling went alongside our own. He matured with us. 

This was something that neither Luke Skywalker, nor Frodo could do, for absolutely no fault of their's, mind you.

Was it just this?

Hell no. Harry Potter reached out to an audience far expansive than just children of a particular age group. It appealed to the young, and to the old. To the housewife, and to the college goer. To the busy corporate, and to the archaic grey haired armchair stereotype.

Why was this then? Was it the story? Was it J K Rowling's mastery with the pen? I guess we'll never know. Also, it doesn't matter much, even if we do. It definitely wasn't the finest literary work ever. But then again, it was far superior from being just another work of literature, or so I feel. It was a new world that J K Rowling created, that merged seamlessly with the world of our own. A world that stared at us from the 4000+ pages of print. A world that drew us in, like a vortex, in a manner that no other fantastical world had ever drawn us before. And a world that left not one stone of doubt unturned and not one loose end before it dropped us back to reality.

Yesterday, as I sat through the final installment of the epic series, I cried like a little boy. The wilderness of feelings that gushed through my mind; through my self; through my body. Seemed choked by the sheer constipation of my ability to express them. I scarcely have felt more emotionally tugged before. As scene after scene rolled past in front of my eyes, all I could do was sit and stare, stunned to the very core.

To quote a certain review. The movie was "monumental cinema". It  had everything that one would want. Nothing more, nothing less. It invoked every little bit of every possible feeling that one can muster. The sorrow that stuns you when you see Dobby's grave; The rush of adrenaline when the Hungarian Ironbelly breathes fire right at you; The overpowering sense of elation when Harry Potter returns to Hogwarts; The revelation of Snape's past, and his unconditional love for Lily Potter that blows your mind; The outburst of reverance when Minerva McGongall steps forward in the Great Hall. Oh man, this list goes on. The surge of new found respect for Neville Longbottom when he confronts Voldemort; The sheer finesse of Molly Weasley when she finishes off Bellatrix Lestrange, shouting, "Not my daughter, you bitch!" And the final flourish of triumph when Harry Potter "resurrects" himself and ... the final duel ... and the epic expression on Voldemort's face when he realizes that his wand is no longer under his control.

The movie has it all. It reaches deep within your soul; reaches places you don't know exist, and scours for every iota of feeling, and hunts them down. Personally, it is as if, someone had dipped me in liquid nitrogen and then hit me with a sledgehammer. Yes. That was the feeling. An inexplicable mishmash of wonder, shock, sorrow, and jubilance, (thought I doubt being hit by a sledgehammer while frozen makes you jubilant, but you get it, right?) It is something that no one can do justice by writing about. Needs to be experienced. First hand.

I really have nothing more to say about Harry Potter. I've been one of the millions who have stuck with Harry right from the beginning, till the very end, and I'm proud that I have.

And is this the end? Definitely not. The story may have ended, but the spirit of Harry Potter lives on. The voice of Dumbledore "Help shall always be give at Hogwarts to those who ask for it" and his reassuring smile; the undying spirit of Fred Weasley. The bravery and awe-inspiring courage of every Auror who sacrificed his life. The spirit of Sirius "Padfoot" Black. The character of Severus Snape, "the bravest man of them all". And Neville Longbottom. For being the ideal Gryffindor. In spirit and in action.

I should end this now, lest I get more emotional. I can only thank Ms Rowling for everything. It's been one helluva ride. And we've enjoyed every second on it.

To you J K. We all owe you one.

a collage of some of the posters featuring most of the major characters. (click to enlarge and see in greater detail)

Jacob French's Troopertrek: An Imperial March With A Difference

Stormtroopers are usually known for their unerring accuracy with a blaster rifle and for their heroically brave murdering of the Jedi, but 501st Legion ("Vader's Fist") member Jacob French is making a name for himself with a different kind of Imperial March.

French is walking the length of Australia solo on a "Troopertrek", from Perth to Sydney, a journey of some 5,000km (3,106m) in an attempt to raise $50,000 for the Starlight Children's Foundation, a charity designed to lift the spirits of seriously ill children.

To complete the grueling journey, Trooper French plans to walk 35-40km per day, five days a week, pushing a 50kg (110lb) buggy containing his supplies, all the while wearing his armour. Along the way, he will cross the dreaded Nullarbor Plain, a stretch of Tatooine-like desert 1,100km wide.

Don't let this Stormtrooper miss his target. Donate at Jacob French's website now.

This message brought to you by the "Death Star Cares" initiative.

Images via Huffington Post.

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Image via Dr. Pete.

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Alderaan: A Retrospective

Alderaan. The "Shining Star" of the Core Worlds, a peaceful planet of unparalleled beauty, rich cultural heritage and a long, proud history dating back more than 30,000 years. And yet, somehow the name has become synonymous with explosive, fiery destruction. One year on, Death Star PR takes a completely objective look back at the "Alderaan incident", at what we've lost and what we've learned, in a quest to finally uncover the truth.

 The mountains of Alderaan. Probably.

What we know
Let's start with the cold, hard FACTS. Alderaan was (almost definitely) a planet that (allegedly) existed. There are many (probably not faked) photos. At some point, for some reason (discussed below), it ceased to exist in its more well-known planetary form in the spatial location it was previously renowned for being found at.

 Alderaan: You don't know what you've got till it's gone.

What may have happened that day
From scientists to conspiracy nuts to "eyewitnesses" who were "actually there", everyone seems to have a different theory on what "actually" happened to Alderaan.

Many scientists have suggested that Alderaan may have spontaneously combusted. "Oh yes," said Professor Iluff Scyeenze, "planets do spontaneously explode all of the time. It has to do with complex gravitational forces combining with a freak build up of magma beneath the planet's mantle, as well as loads of other scientific things like exothermic reactions and the parallax effect and... umm... carbohydrates."

Another strong possibility is an unexpected strike by a huge meteor, as seen in documentaries like Armageddon with Bruce Willis.

Was this man responsible for riding an asteroid into Alderaan? We're not saying he is, but can you prove he isn't? 

More likely, however, is that Alderaan was disintegrated when it was hit by a wayward paragraph of gigantic floating yellow text, a tragic tale that has become all too common in recent years. But where exactly do these unstoppable monolithic paragraphs come from? What do they want? Are they, perhaps, some kind of expository message to us from an unknowable, unfathomable creator? For now, the answers to those questions remain a mystery.

A photograph of one of the rogue paragraphs, taken by one of the few to survive an encounter.

A small minority have even suggested that the benevolent Galactic Empire used the Death Star's superlaser to destroy Alderaan as a demonstration of the Empire's firepower, designed to frighten the Rebel Alliance into submission. Well, just about anybody can suggest anything. Maybe it was accidentally eaten by a gigantic star turtle carrying four giant elephants on its back, who in turn carry some kind of disc-shaped world on their backs. Maybe a giant space bird flew off with it. Or MAYBE it was just a "special effect" made for a "movie" using "computers" and Alderaan never really existed at all.

Who's to blame?
Assuming Alderaan did exist and was blown up? Terrorists. There's a lot of things we don't know in this crazy, mixed up galaxy we live in but one thing's for sure: terrorists are always to blame for explosions.

For years, the Rebel Alliance have been waging guerrilla warfare against the Galactic Empire, constantly disrupting our valiant attempts to bring peace, order and security to the galaxy (even if we have to very occasionally use extreme violence, oppression and fear to do it).

 Grand Moff Tarkin surveys a totally unconnected asteroid field.

Although the Rebel insurgents haven't claimed responsibility for the attack, and indeed have quite vehemently and consistently stated that the Empire is to blame, the reality is that there would be no wars of the star variety or otherwise if the Alliance simply gave up. They won't, of course. They're only too eager to risk your lives for their own selfish ends. Said Eeval Tehryryst: "We're fighting to free the entire galaxy from a ruthlessly oppressive totalitarian dictatorship led by two evil wizards." See? Selfish.

Hypothetically speaking
From a purely hypothetical, non-committal, just throwing it out there kind of a place, if Alderaan did explode and if we did it, which we are in no way suggesting is actually the case, then it would definitely have been totally, unequivocally justified.

 What the Death Star laser might look like if it was fired at Alderaan. Which it almost definitely wasn't.

If the Galactic Empire did, for example, use the Death Star's gigantic superlaser to turn Alderaan into the galaxy's newest meteor field, it would only have been to bring peace to an entire galaxy. A galaxy filled with literally thousands of planets, and possibly to teach a certain uppity Princess a lesson. Are people really going to miss one? After all, doesn't the good of the many outweigh the needs of the few (billion)?

Tarkin, Leia and Darth Vader share a laugh during some father/daughter bonding/abduction time.

Simply put, if Alderaan did get blown up by the Galactic Empire, it was the Rebellion's fault. But even if it turned out that there was some kind of "video evidence" that "proved" we were "responsible", the chances were that we were just test firing the laser when Alderaan shifted its orbit in front of it.

Final thoughts
In all of the discussion of the "horrific tragedy" that (allegedly) befell Alderaan, aren't we all forgetting something? Did the (alleged) destruction of Alderaan really happen to the Alderaanians? After all, you don't hear them bringing it up very often. Isn't it fairer to say that Alderaan happened to all of us? For it is we who must march bravely onwards, valiantly struggling to put behind us/forget completely what (may or may not actually have) happened on that fateful day.

And doesn't that make us the real heroes, in the end?

Yes. Yes it does.

The Greatest Star Wars Game You'll Never Play

If you've ever wanted to command a fleet of Star Destroyers as they bring freedom to the Galaxy by blowing up Rebel fighters, or take the role of an entree-based Rebel Commander and skillfully guide your fleet into yet another trap, this is the video game for you. Except it isn't, because you'll never get to play it.

Arthur Nishimoto's Fleet Commander was developed at the University of Illinois at Chicago's Electronic Visualization Laboratory (EVL) and runs on a 20-feet wide 16 megapixel LCD multi-touch wall.

The exceedingly kick ass looking multiplayer game, "explores how a real-time interactive strategy game that would typically rely on complex keyboard commands and mouse interactions be transferred into a multi-user, multi-touch environment."

Fleet Commander is able to use all of the Star Wars ships and sounds because it was made for a student project, which means none of us will ever get to play it.

Enjoy.

Via Topless Robot (via Kotaku).

10 Terrifying Things Doctor Who Can Teach Us About Humanity's Future

Doctor Who isn't just a documentary about the most evil being in the galaxy and how he constantly goes to other people's worlds and mercilessly kills them when they were just trying to go about their average Tuesday. It also teaches us a lot about the future of humanity and all of the wonderful things you will do. Okay, not really. Mostly it just shows you how terrible it will be for you all.


Here are 10 terrifying things Doctor Who can teach us about Humanity's future:

10. You'll all turn into LOLcats

Show us a person who hasn't spent hours of a Saturday night trawling the internet for pictures of cats with funny captions, LOLing at the antics of those aptly named LOLcats and we'll show you a person who hasn't lived, loved, or LOL'd. Unfortunately, they won't seem so funny when you become one in the year 5 billion and 23 (New Earth). To really add insult to injury, you'll be forced to wear one of those flying nun habits. But whatever you do, DON'T THINK ABOUT HOW THE CAT/PERSON RACE GOT STARTED. Oh, you already are? That's a shame, isn't it?

9. Plastic surgery will get even worse

If you think that the current Hollywood trend for everybody to get so much plastic surgery that they gradually turn into the cat people mentioned above is a bit disturbing, or Mickey Rourke's twisted, inhuman visage turns your very soul to ice, you're probably not going to love the distant future. Because The End of the World shows us that in the year five billion you won't need boob jobs or tummy tucks. You'll just need your face, some skin and a nice picture frame to put it all in.

8. Reality TV will become even more popular

If you're one of the few people tired of the 47 "different" versions of The Horrible Housewives of Someplace Terrible, are sick of trying to Keep Up With the Kardashians, and wish that global warming would just hurry up and wash away the Jersey Shore, there's good news and bad news. The good news is, you have a brain. The bad news is, there's going to be loads more reality TV by the year 200,100. In Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways, there's an entire Satellite devoted to beaming out reality TV. What's truly terrifying about this is that it says humanity will STILL be watching Big Brother and The Weakest Link 200,000 years from now. Maybe we should just bring the Death Star over right now and end your suffering.

7. Pretty much everything inanimate will come to life and it will hate you

Doctor Who is filled with stories of inanimate things coming to life and deciding immediately to devote their lives to destroying/enslaving/feeding on humanity. Shop mannequins (Rose), television sets (The Idiot's Lantern), statues (Blink), and even satellite navigation systems (The Sontaran Stratagem), though upon reflection that last one probably isn't very surprising. So basically, unless you plan on living out your days in a cave in the middle of nowhere, you should probably expect a battle to the death against your household appliances some time in the near future.

6. Holidays will be a really bad idea

We know you're thinking to yourself, "Hooray! In the future I'll be able to jump in a space ship and fly to exotic and interesting locales and meet strange and wondrous alien life forms and have adventures and things!" Well you're right, you will definitely be able to do all of those things, except for one teeny, tiny little problem: every single alien on each of those worlds wants to kill you. On some of those worlds, like the crystalline resort planet Midnight (Midnight), you don't even get to see the thing trying to horribly murder you, it just crawls into people's brains and mimics you until people get annoyed and throw you from the shuttle.

5. Say goodbye to human evolution

The Doctor has been to the furthest corners of the universe, and even the end of time (Utopia) and back again, but no matter where he goes one thing remains the same: people. No matter where he visits them, or what time period he finds them in, humans always look exactly the same as they do in the 21st Century. Too bad, humanity. You may spread out across the stars like an unstoppable spaceship delivered super STD but you'll never develop that prehensile tail or those totally sweet gills Kevin Costner had in Waterworld.

4. YOU'RE the bad guys

"Whaaa! We've been victimised by evil aliens again! Boo hoo!" Oh, poor Earth. While it's true that, yes, the very occasional space monster does try to kill or enslave you all (see below), the reality is that you're going to do far worse to them. You see, in the future you're going to colonise countless worlds throughout the universe, doing to them exactly what every colonial power did to every indigenous culture on Earth: kill them, take their land and resources, then "give" them small amounts of their land to live on while robbing them of their rights for their own protection. And because you're feeling extra nice, you'll also "give" them really cushy slave labour jobs. See: the Ood (Planet of the Ood, The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit).

3. Earth will be constantly invaded by evil aliens

Is there anything better than a lazy Sunday morning? A nice sleep in, bacon and eggs with coffee from the cafe down the street, followed by an hour or two curled up with a good book. Aaah, that's the life. Or it used to be. Because in the future, your sleep in will be being up early running for your life, bacon will be Daleks (Every Second Doctor Who Episode Ever), eggs will be Cybermen (Every Third Doctor Who Episode Ever), coffee will be Sontarans, the cafe will be a reality bomb and the book will be YOU EXPLODING. Because if there's one thing that Doctor Who consistently teaches us, it's that Earth is a magnet for every single bastardous alien in existence. Three quarters of the time they don't even come to Earth for any particular reason except just to mess with you. Which is actually fair enough, really.

2. You won't get to marry Amy Pond

Yes, she's your dream woman. Yes, you feel a special unspoken bond because of that time her hazel eyed gaze pierced the camera, shot out through the television set and locked onto yours in an expression of love that surely no two other people could possibly share. Well get in line, buddy. Ms. Pond is already spoken for by Rory Williams. Yes, the guy with the nose. Even worse, there's no point even contemplating trying to kill him to get him out of the picture, because the guy literally cannot die. No, wait, he literally dies all the FRIGGING TIME (Amy's Choice, Cold Blood, The Curse of the Black Spot, The Doctor's Wife [twice!]), but don't get your hopes up, because he KEEPS COMING BACK.

1. One day you'll all be tiny Death Stars

In Utopia, the Doctor, Captain Jack and Martha travel to the end of the universe in the year 100 trillion. When they get back to the present (The Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords), they find that the Master has taken control of earth with the help of the Toclafane, six billion tiny little Death Stars. It turns out the Master has converted all of the remaining humans at the end of time into incredibly bloodthirsty cyborg death spheres and brought them back using a Paradox Machine so they can kill everyone in the present (namely, you). Actually, six billion tiny Death Stars sounds pretty good. So at least there's that to look forward to, right?

the message

If there is one thing that I have gained after seven weeks of summer internship, it is the sound knowledge of the working of Eastern Railways and the Kolkata Metro. This story is a direct culmination of all that knowledge. Also, pardon my Hindi if in some places it is incorrect. (Update : many thanks Vishala Arya for the corrections :P )


--


"Poroborti station, Belgachia. Platform dan dike."

"Agla station, Belgachia. Platform, dahine taraf."

"The next station is Belgachia. The platform is on the right side."

Rajat looked up from the magazine he was reading as the automated voice sounded over his head. He gave an exasperated groan, and cursed the Kolkata Metro announcements to himself. A 40 minute trip from one one terminal station to the other, spanning the whole of Kolkata from the south to the north, fraught with annoyances such as cackling automated female voices and sweaty co-passengers, wasn't the sort of start he had been expecting to an internship. Also, he had missed the new air-conditioned metro by a whisker, and that added to his present miseries.

As the train reached a standstill, it struck him, that his destination was now only a few minutes away, so he should better ready himself if he wanted to make the most out of the rush when the sliding doors gave way.

With a lurch, the train pulled away again, and Rajat nearly toppled to one side as he tried getting up. Clinging onto the handlebars, and cursing under his breath he steadied himself on his feet. And simultaneously, the automated female voice cackled once more.

"Shesh ebong prantik station, Dum Dum. Platform baa dike."

"Agla aur antim station, Dum Dum. Platform, baai taraf."

"The next and terminal station is Dum Dum. The platform is on the left side."

Rajat heaved a sigh. There, that had to be the last of them all.

He looked around. The crowd had thinned considerably. He had been praying and praying that it does. Seeing the exodus of passengers into and from the train at the stations in central Kolkata, he had remained mortally scared of his turn at Dum Dum.

Needless to say, Rajat wasn't the type of person who had frequently availed of public transport during his twenty odd years of his life in this city. He had remained confined to the luxuries of air-conditioned private cars, and rarely would one see him taking a bus or an autorickshaw. At worst, it would be a cab.

He looked out of the windows. It was still as dark as the insides of a blue whale. He had seldom been on the metro, but whenever he had, he had never travelled to the Dum Dum terminal where the new extension of the track made it come up to the surface and then travel in broad daylight. That was one little thing he was looking forward to. The transition from the darkness to the daylight, and how it happened.

A vibration in his right pocket brought him back to his senses, and he heaved a sigh realizing that he had once again come within the usual network coverage of his mobile service provider. The intermittent availability of the network throughout the boring 40 minutes of journeying in the underbelly of Kolkata had given him yet another thing to crib about. 

He took out his phone and noticed that it was a text message from a friend, Sup it read. At work? 
On the way. Shit crap this thing, he replied, and looked out of the window again, wondering when exactly would he start feeling the ascent.

And then suddenly, there was light all around. He frowned. That's it? The thing just goes out from darkness into light? Without any funny feelings in your tummy. On second thoughts, what else would have happened. I really shouldn't have expected something like a roller coaster here.

The train had now slowed down. It was drizzling outside, and the spray from the window wet his shirt. He moved away from the windows and approached the door.

A few more minutes later, the train pulled into the station. And once again, the now murderous-feeling-inducing automated voice was back

"Jatrider onurodh kora hocche, je ei prantik station e jeno garir kamra khali kore dei."
"Yatriyo se anurodh kiya ja raha hai ki is antim station par gaadi khaali kar di jaye"

"Passengers are requested to completely vacate the metro at the terminal station."

And the train gave a final lurch and stopped. The doors slid open and the customary rush ensued. Rajat went with the flow and soon found himself on the platform. He looked around, clutching his bag close to his self, before swinging it around and straddling it on his back. He knew that now he had to make his way to the railway station at Dum Dum. He looked around and fortunately saw a big red sign showing the way down the stairs to the same. This close, huh. All good.

The scene at the railway station was chaotic. It had all the attributes of the usual Indian railway station, random filth scattered in random places, malnourished and half naked children sleeping in front of the counters. Beggars and decrepit old men lying neglected. An involuntary shudder went down Rajat's spine as he made his way and stood at the end of the queue at the ticket counter. Thankfully enough, the queue was moving pretty quick and it was within a minute or two that he had bought a two way ticket to Agarpara, his intended destination. Dropping a coin in the pleading hands of a woman in tatters, he made his way to the platform. Credits for afterlife, he smiled. He did not look it, but actually was extremely religious and believed in doing good things to people in return of a grateful smile from them. Doesn't hurt. Does it?

On the stairs up to the platform he stopped at yet another blind old man, and dropped a coin into his steel bowl. On the platform however the scene was healthier. Passengers flocked around. Some aimlessly strolled smoking bidis. Quite a few of them were on the tracks, cutting across it, instead of taking the overhead bridge in their haste. A lungi clad person who was standing a few feet away was making weird facial gestures and holding a glass of what appeared to be water in his hand. Rinsing his mouth, Rajat realised, when the person squirted out the contents inside his mouth onto the track.

He looked around. A few hawkers lined the side of the platform: magazine stalls, tea stalls and the sort. He walked up to the magazine stand and the latest copy of the Top Gear magazine caught his eye. He grinned. Not so bad after all. He turned away and looked at his watch. The next train, the Barrackpore Local was due in less than 5 minutes. He resumed his aimless strolling, checking his watch at regular intervals.

Soon enough, the green and yellow electric locomotive was in sight. It was approaching the platform quite steadily, blaring it's horn now and then. And another cackling voice, and this was far worse in tone than the mildly respectable one in the metro, blared from the loud speakers.

"Barrackpore Local arriving at platform number 1."
"Barrackpore Local arriving at platform number 1."
"Barrackpore Local arriving ar platform number 1."

Ugh. Rajat frowned.

The people who were cutting across the track scattered, and clambered up on to the platforms on either side, as the train lumbered in slowly. These oafs will die like this, Rajat grimaced. Much as he was cautious in most of the things that he did, he loathed cutting across railways tracks. What is the overbridge for then?


When the train had come to a halt, he heaved himself up and was relieved to see it almost empty. He went and occupied a window seat, two seats away from an old man reading a newspaper.

Accha dada, eita Agarpara jabe toh? (This train will stop at Agarpara, right?) he leaned to his right and asked him, just to reassure himself.

The person did not take his eyes of the newspaper, Haan. Duto station pore (yes, two stations from this).

Rajat heaved a sigh and leaned back, took off his bag and placed it on his lap. Shouldn't be a long journey, he thought.

The train had started moving by then, and it steadily kept putting on speed. A candy seller had boarded too, he noticed and he kept moving around, asking one passenger after another. He came to Rajat as well, and thrust his colourful lot of candies at him. Rajat turned him down and gazed out of the window. When was the last time I had boarded a local train? He couldn't recollect. But he was more than glad that this one was not crowded, like the ones he usually saw at level crossings - local trains with people hanging onto the doors. Like bats. As he would say.


The next station was Belgharia. The train halted there for a minute or two before lurching off again. Rajat yawned. He had been up all night watching the Champions League Final. A disappointing game, for the Manchester United Fanatic that he was, and had thus lost most of this night's sleep. He wished he was home, happily snoring in his bed. Curse internships. He muttered.

Dada, time ta koto holo? (What's the time?)
He turned around and saw a young man looking at him and pointing at his watch.

Showa Nota. (A quarter past nine) he replied. He took out his phone and whiled some time away playing some random games, till he noticed that the train was slowing down again. Realising that this was Agarpara, he got up again, and headed for the door. An old woman sat huddled, on the edge, who peered up at him when he arrived. Rajat frowned again. What's with the fascination for edges?!


A few others flocked around him, all readying to disembark. The train kept rolling, slowing down with every passing second. The impatient passengers leapt off the train and hurried away. Rajat rolled his eyes. Won't ever learn, will they?

It was a few seconds later, when the train had come to a halt, that he jumped off, and looked around. He had to reach platform number 4, and then take a rickshaw from there, he had been directed. Reaching platform 4 would mean taking the overbridge. He glanced down, along the platform and saw one some feet away.

He started walking towards it. The platform he noticed, was far less crowded than the one at Dum Dum. The hawkers and stall keepers however were the same. His eyes wandered around at the colourful advertisement bill boards. There was a new Raymond's showroom at Agarpara, and they were giving 20% discount. He read the Bengali script slowly. He had studied Bengali for twelve long years in school, and still found reading Bengali to be a challenge.

The train had started moving again. He glanced at it, as it slowly moved out of the platform. The old woman was still huddled on the edge of the door, and was looking at him queerly. For some reason he kept staring at her, till his ringing phone made him break away his eye contact.

It was his mum.

Hullo? Yeah, I've reached, ... yeah, am okay. Bye!


He dropped his phone into his pocket, and turned around once again to catch that old woman. She had gone forward by quite a distance. However, he could still see her, and the hair at the back of his neck tingled when he realised that she was still staring at him. There was something she wanted  to convey. He didn't know what.

In fact, he would never know what.

The next thing he knew a metal rod had sliced through his body. He fell down. His phone dropped upon the platform and split open. People around him gasped and rushed to lift him up.

It was too late.

--

Twenty odd kilometers away, Anindita stood outside her house, and locked the door. She looked at her husband.


Rajat's reached. Says he's ok.


Her husband nodded. You told him to collect the key from the darwan when he returns? As it is, we won't be done by then. We'll be late.


Oops. Hang on, will tell him, she called his number, and frowned. Says coverage kshetra se bahaar hai. (says that it's outside network coverage)

Network problems. Send him a message then.


Yeah Ok.

--

This story is a work of fiction. But it is based on a true story. Check this : http://www.ndtv.com/article/cities/four-killed-in-freak-accident-at-aligarh-junction-113485

Another Open Letter to Beloved Hollywood Actress Natalie Portman

Dear Natalie Portman,

We trust you’ve been well since we last wrote to you after the birth of your son. The first few weeks of parenthood are a wonderful, crazy, sleepless time that can be difficult for some, but if anyone can handle it, it’s you, Natalie Portman. The woman who starred in no less than three blockbuster movies (very well done, Natalie, inspiring stuff) in the same year that she gave birth to her first child is surely capable of anything.

Congratulations are in order once again. After months of thought spent endlessly agonizing over the perfect name for your son, you’ve chosen “Alef”. What a beautiful, lyrical (and can we say magical? Well, you can’t stop us, Natalie Portman. MAGICAL.) name, which in no way reminds us of “Alf”, that annoying wisecracking alien who ate cats.

All of us here on the Death Star were incredibly thankful when we heard you’d made the decision not to go with “Luke”, mostly because this significantly decreases the chances of us eventually getting blown up by a Luke in the not-distant-enough future, but also because “Luke” rhymes with “puke”, which can lead to some really unfortunate bullying at school. You are incredibly wise to avoid that sort of future heartache, Natalie Portman.

But THEN we heard that that “Alef” apparently means “Oneness with God” in Hebrew. We looked up this God character of yours Natalie Portman, and although we really enjoyed his first book “The Old Testament”, it dawned on us that what you refer to as “God” in your galaxy is what we know as “the Force” in ours.

Which means you’ve actually called your child “One with the Force”. Which means he will one day become more powerful than we could possibly imagine.

WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, BELOVED HOLLYWOOD ACADEMY AWARD WINNING ACTRESS NATALIE PORTMAN? WHY?!

We’re sure it was simply a minor oversight on your part, Natalie. Not that we’re suggesting a woman of your intellect, charm and acting ability is capable of mistakes. But even the best of us overlook things at times, like forgetting to shield a small thermal exhaust port in your otherwise impenetrable Battle Station of Doom. Err… that one’s just an example, Natalie Portman. Just forget we mentioned that, please.

You strike us as a very moral person and you’ve stated repeatedly that you’re against war, which is great, because war is a terrible thing, Natalie. And Star Wars? Urgh. Those are the WORST kind. We’re sure you have no interest whatsoever in watching your beautiful baby boy grow up, only to eventually watch him blow up more than a million probably innocent people.

So please, beloved Hollywood actress Natalie Portman, don’t bother teaching your son about the ways of the Force. Otherwise before you know it he’ll be levitating the family car and chopping all of your carefully constructed IKEA furniture in half all the time. You don’t need that kind of hassle in your life, Natalie. After all, on top of being probably the world’s best mum, you still have an incredibly successful acting career to pursue.

Yours admiringly,

The Death Star PR Team.

P.S. If a bearded man in a brown bathrobe ever comes looking for you and offers to “train” Alef, just say NO. We have it on good authority that he only wants to show your son his lightsaber.

Bad Guys

Han, Leia and Luke deaths caused by Stormtrooper: 0.

Stormtrooper deaths caused by Han, Luke and Leia: 176,442.

Sorry, who are the bad guys again?

200 Reasons

Ke$ha has written 200 songs for her new album.

We like to think of them as 200 reasons why your death by explosion will be a merciful one.

This message brought to you by the Death Star Cares initiative.

Autobots Are Dicks: A "Transformers: Dark of the Moon" Review

Michael Bay's Transformers: Dark of the Moon is here, bringing with it the promise of unparalleled Autobot propaganda, 36 solid minutes of things walking and/or exploding in slow motion, and enough happening on screen to make you feel like you've been molested by a giant robot having an epileptic fit, while in a blender that transforms into another, even more giant molesting robot.

In an effort to counter the Autobot spin, we recount the film and present an unbiased view of events. Be warned: spoilers and logic after the jump.

TDotM opens with an extended trailer for the Transformers: War for Cybertron video game. In the last days of the war, Autobot leader Sentinel Prime invented "the Pillars", technology that would end the war once and for all but his ship, the Ark, is shot down by Decepticons. It crashes on the dark side of the moon, which is apparently right next to Cybertron, sparking the 1960's space race.

Sixty years later, the Autobots are working with the American military to protect humanity from itself, which here means murdering the Middle Eastern parts of it. When we first see the Autobots, they're infiltrating an Arabian military checkpoint disguised as a diplomatic convoy. The moment they pass the gates, they transform and begin heroically killing the unsuspecting guards, thereby totally and utterly negating the point of being in disguise in the first place.

Megatron and the remaining Decepticons are cleverly hiding from the Autobots in the one place nobody would ever think to look for a giant robot that can disguise itself as whatever vehicle or mechanical object it wants: right out in the open in the middle of the African Savannah, where there are, you know, no vehicles or giant robots whatsoever.

Back home, Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf) is ANGRY! because he can't get a job, despite having saved the world twice already before. We know this because pretty much the entire first hour of the film is devoted to everyone in the entire movie talking exclusively about how Sam can't get a job.

As with most unemployed people, Sam's life is TERRIBLE. He is forced to live in a well-appointed two storey loft with his new ridiculously hot, nice, driven, (apparently) intelligent supermodel girlfriend Carly Banks (Rosie Huntington-Whitely). WORSE, the Autobots are too busy to even talk to poor old Sam anymore. Except for the two comedy relief bots who live with him for no reason. Even WORSER, Carly works for McDreamy (Patrick Dempsey), a (clearly evil) charming billionaire playboy accountant, which is apparently a thing.

Possibly because they've killed everyone in the Middle East, the Autobots travel to Chernobyl, Russia, where they discover a fuel cell from the Ark. Then Shockwave, a Decepticon with a giant robotic Dune sandworm penis, attacks them with said appendage, because hey, if you've got it, flaunt it.

Surviving the close encounter of the penis kind, Optimus returns to the USA OptiPISSED, because the US Government has been hiding knowledge of the Ark the whole time. He very maturely does an "I can't hear you" routine with No-Nonsense CIA Boss Lady (Frances McDormand) before eventually going to the moon anyway, recovering Sentinel Prime and the five remaining pillars.

Oh, FYI the pillars form a "space bridge" that can instantaneously teleport things like large amounts of Decepticons or, say, planets, from one end of the galaxy to the other. Remarkably, it can even transport plot points directly from other iconic science fiction franchises, as this is literally EXACTLY THE SAME evil plan the Time Lords had in Doctor Who's The End of Time.

Meanwhile, Sam has found a job in the mail room of Some Company Inc., run by John Malkovich playing Charlie Sheen on the drug Charlie Sheen playing John Malkovich in Being John Malkovich. Decepticon whistleblower Community's Señor Chang turns up and drags Sam into a bathroom stall to tell him Chang knows THINGS about the Decepticon master plan, WHICH IS FUNNY BECAUSE JOHN MALKOVICH THINKS THEY HAD GAY SEX! CLASSIC!

At this point, presumably because he is incredibly bored of waiting for the action to begin, Laserbeak (literally the only Transformer in the movie smart enough to remember he is a transforming robot who can transform himself into different things, like a photocopier [hey, nobody said they were GOOD things]) gives up on the whole secret plan thing and tries to kill Sam, as well as pretty much everyone in Sam's office.

Before Sam (now joined by John Turturro and Alan Tudyk doing a funny accent because apparently Michael Bay thinks that an accent and characterisation are the same thing) can warn the Autobots , Sentinel Prime turns to the Dark Side, kills Ironhide and activates the pillars, using them to teleport all of the Decepticons to Earth who've been hiding on the moon for the last 60 years waiting for their cunning and incredibly drawn out plan to come together.

And no, if this really was the Decepticons plan all along, they couldn't have saved a lot of time and done it in either of the first two movies because shut up.

The Decepticons quickly and efficiently take over Chicago, make a huge number of gargantuan gunships and assorted other Decepticons appear out of nowhere, get McDreamy to kidnap Carly and have the Autobots exiled into space via rocket ship, which, in a move everyone saw coming, they promptly blow up. OH NO, the Autobots are dead! Sentinel Prime fires up the pillars again, this time planning to bring Gallifrey Cybertron through the pillars to Earth.

The US military can't even get close because their planes get blown up the second they approach the city, which leads Lt. Colonel William Lennox (Josh Duhamel) to come up with what might literally be the most insanely stupid plan in the history of everything: enter the city using WINGSUITS! Which are TOTALLY COOL. And are also, you know, nowhere near as fast, heavily armoured, or armed as any of the planes the Decepticons just blew up.

Sam decides to make his own way into the city to rescue Carly with the help of his new friends, a bunch of plucky (but actually surprisingly cowardly) ex-soldiers who all apparently chose to be paid in heavy artillery instead of money when they left the army.

Sam & Co are about to be put out of everyone's misery by a Decepticon when SHOCK TWIST! Optimus and the Autobots return. Optimus explains that it was their plan all along to pretend to leave Earth, so that the people of Earth understood that Decepticons could not be trusted. Meaning, and this cannot be stated emphatically enough, the NOBLE LEADER OF THE AUTOBOTS LEFT EVERYONE IN CHICAGO TO DIE IN ORDER TO TEACH EARTH A LESSON.

This commences the one hour (literally) action sequence portion of the film, during which: Sam totally blows the Autobots' chance of a surprise attack by selfishly rescuing Carly; Sam and Carly get trapped for 20 minutes in a skyscraper while Shockwave molests it with his giant robot penis; Optimus transforms into Flying Optimus™only to get tangled in ropes. For at least 15 minutes. Which he needs the Wreckers to help him get out of. Despite the fact that he: a) is a ridiculously strong giant robot; b) is made of at least 4,907 incredibly sharp pieces of metal; and, c) CAN TRANSFORM INTO AND/OR CARRIES A WIDE VARIETY OF EDGED AND PROJECTILE WEAPONRY.

Ultimately, the pillars are destroyed and Cybertron is sucked back into the vortex from whence it came but that still leaves Optimus to get his ass horribly kicked by Sentinel Prime, losing an arm in the process. That is, until Megatron is convinced by Carly (who has never met, seen, or assumedly even heard of Megatron prior to the moment she sees him, but somehow manages to completely understand his nature and skillfully manipulate him anyhow) to help kill Sentinel.

Megatron saves Optimus' life, basically defeats Sentinel on his own AND then offers Optimus a truce. Optimus repays all of this incredible kindness by doing exactly what you'd expect the heroic, noble and wise protagonist to do: he rips out Megatron's head and spine. Sentinel is crawling away when Optimus catches up to him and, despite pleading for his life, executes the elder Transformer, shooting him in the head point blank with a shotgun, execution style.

Roll credits.

So, just to recap, the movie ends with Optimus Prime BRUTALLY MURDERING TWO TRANSFORMERS IN COLD BLOOD.

You should see this movie if: you enjoyed Transformers 2, like giant robots, explosions and one hour action sequences.

You should not see this movie if: you are in any way a fan of logic, character development, or CGI-light films.

What exactly has Google+ stolen from Facebook?

This is going to be a quickie. A vent of sorts to all that is bubbling within me.

What exactly has Google+ stolen from Facebook?

• the concept of friends? And family? That too from Facebook? Really? Because Facebook never really understood the difference between the two, like ever. Google+ apparently does.
• the concept of sharing? Right. I did that with food in my kinder-garden.
• the concept of photos and tagging? *YAWN*

The more serious ones.

• notifications? At first glance it's exactly like the Facebook thing. But a second glance, and whoa. There's the Google ingenuity staring at you in the face. What Facebook first brought into social networking - the notifications thingy ... it has remained the exact same thing to date. Excepting a few minor changes like clubbing multiple notifications into one, and positioning it from right to left, Facebook has never really improved on it. What Google has done is transform it  into something so much more awesome. You can access it from any Google service, and can even do mini-Google+ ing in the small window that pops up. Also, Facebook had three irritating notifications for friend requests, messages and general notifications. Google+ has just one.
• the 'like' as +1 ? Facebook's 'Like' evolved from a means to say "i approve of this status or photo" to simple sharing all across the web. You liked a page on the internet. That got shared on your Facebook feed. That is just simple sharing. Google Reader, StumbleUpon, Digg, Reddit ... had all been there, done that. And did Mark Zuckerberg really think that he would have a copyright over a simple English word like ... 'like' ?
• tagging? Letting a person know that he's been mentioned somewhere? Wasn't it Facebook who stole the exact same thing from Twitter in the first place? Where was the hue and cry of "not original" then?

bonus : What exactly has Google+ stolen from Twitter?

I personally love Twitter. But yes, what is there to steal from it? The concept of followers? Hullo. Jesus Christ and the Buddha have had their followers. So have a thousand people before them. The concept of "following" is too old to actually be considered plagiarism from the 2000s. Nothing new there!

What has Google+ not stolen from Facebook?

This could go on for ages. 

• The epic Google chat : that's like a slap on the face of Facebook chat.
• Circles == sheer awesomeness. Because every person whom you know is not necessarily your friend.
• Hangouts. This is the sheeez. \m/
• Missing Facebook events? Check the top bar -> Google Calender ftw!
• Document sharing? Google Docs ftw!
• Videos? YouTube ftw! 

Isn't this like utter pwnage already? Wait there's more.

• Photo Albums : Picasa ftw!
• Mail : GMail ftw!
• Google Reader for RSS -- ftw!

last but not the least :

Google Search FTW!

I mean. HOW is Google+ still a Facebook copy?

--

Well, one thing that Google has actually copied is possibly this.

Because, that's essentially what Google+ is.

Legen-waitforit-dary.

Lord Voldemort: Behind the Basilisk

With the Deathly Hallows Part 2 due to hit cinemas on July 13^th, the impending death of Harry Potter to celebrate and the total domination of the world to plan for, Twitter’s one and only Lord Voldemort is one very busy evil wizard.

Thankfully, “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Blamed” found the time to answer a few of Death Star PR’s questions about eternal life, taking over the universe and everything.

DSPR: Firstly, congratulations on being the first “fictional” character to pass 1 million Twitter followers. How does one celebrate such a momentous milestone?

LV: I would tell you but the celebration is revealed only to those who make it to this momentous milestone. Yes, Gaga, Britney, Bieber, NASA & I are all in the know about this secret. Like I said, I’d share; but horrible things tend to happen to people who try and enter my chamber of secrets when they shouldn’t...

DSPR: Speaking of Lady Gaga, she dresses crazier than Bellatrix Lestrange and calls herself “Mother Monster”, and Charlie Sheen recently claimed he was the world’s most powerful warlock. Are today’s celebrities just trying to ride on your cloaktails?
LV: It’s upsetting to me that people feel they can leech off of my fame. I know a thing or two about living off of someone else; I did live in Quirrel’s head.  Let me tell you; while unicorn blood is refreshing and quenches your near-death thirst, there is nothing better than living on your own. (Unless it’s seven of you living on your own in various places of course). These people need to find their own thing. Look at Cedric Diggory. He realized being yet another whiny, wizard, git didn’t work for him so he took up sparkling. Do I advise this route? No. But to each his own.

DSPR: People see your movie star good looks, plush velour bathrobes, exotic pets and all the other trappings of superstardom, and forget that you’re a self-made man. Has the road to success been an easy one for you?

LV: The road to my success was neither easy nor hard… it was non-existent. You don’t need a road to success when you can apparate to success; or, better yet, fly.

 

DSPR: Dumbledore was the yin to your yang, the beard to your clean-shaven look, the dead to your still alive. Are there any positives you can take out of that relationship now that he’s gone?

LV: Well, as you stated, Dumbledore and I were opposites. I plan on continuing our yin-yang relationship & fully embracing the being alive to his dead.

DSPR: Speaking of Dumbledore’s demise, it seems like Severus Snape has finally made himself useful. What are the best and worst things about having henchmen?

LV: Snape, Snape, Severus Snape. Dumbledore…. well Dumbledore never fully embraced the whole “henchman-are-useful” mentality. I like to think of them less as “henchmen” and more “evil groupies”.  I’d say the best thing about having Henchmen is the loyalty. You know, people like Wormtail are literally willing to give their right arm to serve me. Snape? Well that’s the kind of guy who would never, ever stab me in the back. I mean, there’s a better chance that Hagrid would become a professor than Snape betraying me. As if that would ever happen. The worst thing is that I started some kind of weird trend. Now every group feels the need to “name” themselves. It’s worse than the asinine “couple-naming” that people do.  My name is already ridiculous enough, I don’t need you adding to it. Now there are “Beliebers,” “Little Monsters,” “Smilers.” I think they should all group themselves together and form a new group. We can call them ‘dead’.

DSPR: Just between us, can you share any “Deathly Hallows Part 2” spoilers with us? Is that Harry kid finally going to get what he deserves?

LV: I think you’ll be surprised by the ending. They haven’t let me see it yet but I’ve been promised that it would be completely different than this “book” ending. One that reflects what REALLY happened. As you know from my previous interview, that “JK Rowling” character got into a bit of a tiff with me when I refused her advances. Suddenly I was “evil,” “couldn’t love” and she refused to even speak my name. Drama-queen. She really crucioed my patience so I’ve been promised that this will be a more accurate reflection of a wizard who knows how to make magic and loves playing with his snake. Wait…

DSPR: Between Harry “The Boy Who Lived” Potter being famous just for not dying and the cast of Jersey Shore being famous for being stupid, does it ever surprise you that there are still people out there who don’t want you to take over the world?

LV: It does. It really does. I mean, can anybody get famous nowadays? What happened to the good old days where you DIDN’T want people to say your name? I go around helpfully killing off stupidity faster than Bella Swan can kill someone’s patience and all I get is complaining.

DSPR: When it comes to magic, is it the materials of your wand or how you use it?
LV: I mean, my wand is thirteen inches. I don’t need felix felicis to get “lucky” if you know what I’m saying. That being said, it’s definitely about how you use your wand but when I meet a special lady I’ll let her see what’s inside it…

DSPR: With the occasional attempted avada kedavraing of unaccompanied minors and assorted Muggles, wizards, etc, you’ve developed something of a “bad boy” reputation. Is that a fair assessment?

LV: Listen, I speak the truth (as well as sarcasm and parseltongue) and if that makes me “bad” then so be it. However, I can never be a bad “boy” as I’m not a boy. Really, if you think about it, I’m teaching a valuable lesson. Don’t want to be killed? Don’t suck. It’s as simple as that.

DSPR: Finally, you mentioned you speak parseltongue. Out of curiousity, do snake’s have anything interesting to say?

LV: My snake has a lot of interesting things to say. Ladies, if you’d like to know more, I’d be happy to introduce you some time.

DSPR: Lord Voldemort, it’s been an absolute pleasure talking to you. Thank you for allowing us to enter your chamber of secrets once again.

Click here to read our first exclusive "Behind the Wand" interview with Lord Voldemort.