Happy Independence Day

Day 53. 136 pages, 63,362 words.

Taking a little break from the long-winded jibber-jabber to wish my friends and colleagues in India a very happy and joyous Independence Day.

Yes, on this day in 1947, India officially won its independence and, quite incidentally, one whole half of my family came tear-arsing across the Indian Ocean to settle in Perth, Western Australia. One colony’s as good as another, after all (and some significantly better on account of being well-behaved and stable), as long as they are warm and sunny and have plenty of disgruntled natives.

I kind of love the fact that the Independence Day celebrations in India mean that basically my workplace (and probably a staggering proportion of the Western World) will be getting no IT support today. And that’s it. India takes a well-earned holiday, and you’re just going to have to switch your own PC off and then back on again, damn it.

And good for you guys. You deserve it. You’re free and responsible and you’re flourishing. 1947, that means you are a grown-arse country, my friends, and more power to you. Many more years of happiness and fun to the lot of you. I’m actually privileged to be part of a couple of India-only mailing lists at my workplace (for complicated legacy reasons), so I get to see the celebrations and festivals and enjoyment you get out of every day. It’s colourful and happy and just fantastic to see.

Enjoy your Independence Day, India. As an Australian, all I can really say in closing is:

...wossit like?

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy. https://hatboy.blog/2013/12/17/metalude-who-are-creepy-and-hatboy/
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