Hanging Warren Anderson

Of late, the media (Facebook, blogs and television stations) of the affluent classes has woken up to a tragedy called Bhopal.The Indian middle classes have learnt about Methyl Isocyanate, Union carbide and probably even about a place called Bhopal. There has been much finger wagging, shows of outrage, anger, soap opera like news shows and the normal disgust we reserve for our ruling classes. At the center of this storm is one man- Warren Anderson- and the story of his escape. Our sensationalist journalists have been going over board pinning blame for his "escape" to every Tom, Dick and Harry who operated the levers of power in 1984.

However, I have a single question- Why do we need to hang Warren Anderson? To me, it seems that its vengance. Vengance not because his company's profit guided zeal lead to the death of thousands, but because it is in some way, an insult on our recently rediscovered self respect.

I argue, that its not Warren Anderson that we need to hang. In his stead, we need to hang our own heads- in shame!

For years now, we as a nation, have remembered Bhopal only on anniversaries and court cases- just like we remember Gandhi and Independence day for the holidays they bring.We have looked on while the contamination at the factory site has leached into the water table and created new generations of victims, who will pin upon themselves not only the ribbons of Bhopal,Dow and Union Carbide,but also the apathy and inertia of our government. Its a crime, that years were spent, trying to get Dow to clean up the site, but that the goverment did not take upon itself to clean up the site. Sure, the site belongs to a third party, but the land belongs to India and the people being effected are Indians. This is a crime that our government is guilty of, yet we seek to hang Warren Anderson.

Warren Anderson represents a creed of people that will cut corners to make money. The government, is responsible, for overseeing and regulating the actions of such people. The media is responsible for the constructive criticism of the government and the society it governs. Yet, a

quarter century after Bhopal,we still stand at the edge, waiting for a disaster to strike. We still have to live our nights in the industrial cities with the putrid smells of unknown gases, released by industries out to make a fast buck . Its a shame, that we have no active agency that aggressively ensures the safety of the public. A The government stands dumb. The media is vocal, only in pursuit of individuals, but not issues. We, the people, are also to blame. For the media only shows us what we want to see and many of us, with the voice, are apathetic- for the thousands who died were not our aunts and uncles, but were only maids, rickshawpullers and menial labourers.

The fourth estate, our representatives and us are all out to hang Warren Anderson and the people who let him escape. For, in them, we have a scapegoat, a fall guy for the crimes of our government,our profit driven media and our apathy. Someone called his escape "a systemic failure". I would say that, our misplaced zeal and our inability to identify with our fellow citizens is the real failure. Warren Anderson has long been dammned! We on the other hand, are slowly dragging ourselves to the gallows.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and started to love James Joyce

This essay has two lies. One, I never stopped worrying about James Joyce. Two, I have never started to love him.In all truth, this essay has little to do with James Joyce.Actually, I must add that it has nothing to do with him whatsoever.This essay has nothing to do with various waterbodies of consciousness. It may in the end, have something to do with pseudo-nihilist literature practised by unnamed characters in the rubber monster movies of twentieth-century Japan.Ihope it has the same effect on your as Mothra and Godzilla had on Tokyo.

This essay is neither about Nora Barnacale nor her "sensual epistolary" correspondence with her husband or third wave feminist interpretations of her alter ego- Nora Joyce.However, I would like to mention that she thought, very correctly,that her husband wrote books that only her husband could read.Now, some of you would have begun to assume that I am a boor,culturally uncouth and probably uses literary masterpieces as litter for cats.But I can promise you

that its not true. First, cat litter usually has calcium bentonite. And since most paper is made of cellulose, its pointless to use James Joyce's books as cat litter.Second, I have no cats.These two observations, that flowed through my conscious about 10 seconds ago should convince you, that I do not use the books of that Irish drunk as cat litter.

There may be those of you, who believe that I am book burner.I have had several hair leveling episodes with my bunsen burner, but I defenitely dont burn books.In fact, I inspired no book burner and curiosity did not lead me to ask at what temperature, paper burnt. Though, I sometimes wonder, if I should know if the gods we worship are mortal. But,I digress.

Actually, I will digress. I find this strict conformity to one subject, is detrimental to my mental well being.This detriment makes itself apparent as a jelly like,sharp ooze.Most of this ooze, is from my disgust at our contemporary treatment of Al-Jabbr.Al-Jabbr, among other things,made gold from cabbage (and thus caused famine in germany),lent his name( for 89 dinars) to a vital weapon(algebra) in the fight against fourth grade super heros, created the Zebra (that too on a sunday) and wrote the instruction manuals for most of these achievements in a language that only he could read. Today, we call this langauge gibberish.You may all, by now have fiugured out that Joyce bashing is a strange attractor.For the object of maintaining subtlety, let me emphasize- Al jabbr wrote stuff only he coudl understannd. we called the gibberish. James Joyce wrote stuff only he could understand. We call them Ulysees,Dubliners and masterpieces.

Now, I must end. At the end, we all realize, that we are in the same place as we were in the beginning- in front of a comp. Some of you may rush the barricades, to nail me. But, Iwill tell you that they are no barricades. They were destroyed by Mothra and Godzilla's elder son, just yesterday- over who should get Iran's stockpile of NREU snacks(not really enriched uranium).

ps-dedicated to two physicists,A.Douglas,C.bergen,sixteen pairs of twin poodles and my old freind- count Duckula.