On Design

On Designers

On Design

The designer strings meaning out of little
For the benefit of the user
So that every feel and every touch. Feels just perfect

The designer arranges objects with perfect (a)symmetry
For if beauty requires imperfection
“Love is not a victory march, it’s a cold and it’s a broken”
Then Designers must be, must create, imperfect to be beautiful
They, he, she, must be
For if (I’m)perfection required beauty…
Then maybe the Designers’ Goddog is tacCat
Or maybe it’s Ameen-Ra

The designer abuses and uses and builds technology
From scratch, from chicken scratch, from text, from research
For the benefit of humankind
The designer builds the world around the person
So that the person’s life becomes as easy as possible

The designer requires pleasure and leisure
For the designer needs to ensure that the user’s xperience
Is also filled with leasure and pleasure
Leader, Leisure, Signer, Meeter,
DeSigner, Meter, Seater, Teacher
All these, designers must be

The designer signs off
Approves the most beautiful, the most useful designs
The designer meets with other designers, leading them
Guiding then to the truth
The Designers’ Throne has lost its warmth for some time
For lack of meter ‘n poems makes the beat of Time go cold

O Designer, now Warmth has engulfed the Seven Earths and Seven Seas
Let Six Become Five, Let three bee-come 2

Let this be the end of these deadly weeks

IceFyre will return once more
For The Designer wrings Order out of Chaos

On shoulders & Giants, or Independent Discoveries

On Shoulders of giants


EOn Indaependaent Discoveries

For thousands of years, for aeons, people across the world could independently discover some great truths about philosophy, mathematics, science, or spirituality, and we in the present could verify these forebears were truly independent discoverers. We could prove it by tracing the history of that person’s life, and knowing they never came into contact with any other human being who also made that discovery. The world was sufficiently disconnected, so that contact between these intellectual giants was uncommon for millennia.

Now we don’t have as many independent discoveries anymore, it seems. We only have dependent discoveries. Except for isolated tribes here and there (who may still prove to have independent discoverers), every human being is somehow connected to another. And they’re connected to all these past intellectual giants. But is that really true? Even if a child were to independently discover a theorem of Gauss, or a lesson or Buddha, or a theory of Avicenna, the child would not be counted amongst these intellectual giants. It’s not the case that such discoverers are no longer being brought into the world. However, the issue is of verification. It would be really difficult for one to prove that a child really did independently discover some (already discovered) incredible truth about the Universe, instead of just having read and learned about this truth through a textbook or two.

For thousands of years, giants stood upon giants stood upon giants… Now we in the present day stand upon colossal towers of giants so tall, that at our height we cannot recognize a small giant standing on the ground below us, the children of the present who are unverified independent discoverers. But just because we cannot see how tall they are, that does not mean their height isn’t impressive. Thus, I believe that independent discoveries continue to be made and will continue to be made. Just as I believe independent discoverers have always been born and will always be born. In fact, I think even more are born in the present and future than in the past, as the population has only increased. These giants who are the children of the present are so common amongst us, we don’t even see it as something special anymore.

Now, all this assumes that those that made discoveries in the past truly did make them independently. Perhaps our present verification methods aren’t good enough. Maybe Leibniz did steal from Newton, or vice versa, and maybe we just don’t have any record of it. Maybe Buddha had a teacher that we cannot know about. Maybe information could be communicated in incredible ways even in the past. Maybe a covenant from ancient alien civilizations, or maybe with Spirits of the Other-World(s). TheWho knows?

The Great Reset




Every ten thousand years,

or so

We’re hit by icy times and tears

For the age of iceWater

A decade of a millennia ago

Was not the first of ones we know

For us to see I’m-ages of the past

We will have to see the ice-ages passed


Read these pass-ages, we asses

For if we’re dumb then-Then we’re done

And then the End will-Will have won

Unless we have the Will of One

The will to aVoid the Mighty Crunch

A will to void the Wills of

The evils of pasts, we committed to


Or was it 41 thousand, or 42?

Or was it a century of a millennia, too?

Was it ten to the four by ten to the two?

Maybe a million…

…instead of millenia

Or maybe a billion…

we may knever know uh anyyka?

Or was it 21 or 40 or 400, by two?

A mystery surrounds a million point 2

What did Milenkovich say?


Perhaps our writing’s twoo weeaks’ Today

Ice & Fire, then Fire & Ice

A Pattern that goes round and Rounds

Evil then Good, then justice is Ice

A song that Rings and then re-Sounds

Good then evil, then Justice is Nice

A song that’s Rung and now resounds

For then Fire’s fire and Ice’s ice

As sound is Sound,


Now, our tail begins to un-wound

Humans are born and then we were Bound

Our destiny bonded to hate and fear

The songs we heard, we played by ear

Which songs were filled with fear and hate?

Which poisons were they, the ones we ate?

That then we spit back in the sky

And into seas and grounds below

Now Ice is Water, as we cry

The Heat of Rage is our creation


A Feat of Ages

we may now need

A Seat of Sages

We must now seed

For if we’re Creation

Perhaps a 6000 year deed

It’ll be


Deed, dead, A Sead of Dead

We’ll see the Seas we’ve killed, all dead

The World of C’s‘ll no longer be

Just as we’ll have killed the Bee

Unless we Seize our moments from We

The Best Part of Waking Up (Folgers) by Rockapella (Umer’s Version)

(adapted for the Musical InterDudes but they never accepted it):

Everyday I wake up

Say to you wassup

Oh my dude, oh i love ya

The best part of waking up

It’s the doo-wap doo-wap in all I do

My homies oh i love ya, always coming throuuugh

Whoa the best part of waking up

Is friends that say wassup

Now I’m right in harmony

When I doo-wap doo-wap da-dee, whoa

One more “sup”, and it’s a who-wap sha-bap for me

Oh the best part of waking up

Isn’t Folgers in your cup

Cuz the best part of waking up

Is friends that say wassup


Everytime, the same rut 

Y’know just what is what

You know just what to do, ya

You always pick me up 

It’s the doo-wap doo-wap in all you say 

The way you so support me, brightening my dayyyy

Whoa you know I can’t make this up

I live to hear that “sup”

Now you’re right in front of me

When you doo-wap doo-wap da-dee, whoa

Oh what luck, you’re the who-wap sha-bap for mee 

Oh you know I can’t make this up

I live to hear that “sup”

Oh the best part of waking up

Is friends that say wassup 

/ (forgers the

/ interdudes:)

Giving me that hard-wood

You’re my favourite dude

I never wanna leave ya

I hope we don’t get sued

It’s the doo-wap doo-wap in all our tunes

Our voices now engulf you, and we’ll make you swooooon

Whoa I hope that I see your nudes 

Ya we’re the interdudes

Now I can’t wait for you to see

We’re on-a doo-wap doo-wap-ping spree, whoa

One more dude, we’re the who-wap sha-bap indeeeeed

Oh I hope that I see your nudes 

Ya we’re the interdudes

Oh the best part of waking up

Is friends that say wassup 

/ (slowed:)

Oh the best part of waking up, 

Isn’t Folger’s in your cup

Cuz the best part of waking up, 

Is friends that say wassup

And the best part of this whole school..

And oh, boy we so do rule (melody same as above)

Oh I hope that we’ve not been rude (melody same as above)

Ya we’re the interdudes 


For clean ver, switch:

Oh I hope that I see your nudes 

Ya we’re the interdudes


Oh i really love your attitude

Ya we’re the interdudes

Now we live in the Era of Remakes

So I, too, will use this blog to write my own versions of popular songs and remake other people’s works.

I do not intend any disrespect by this. I hope to appreciate and celebrate other people’s works, and take my own spin on them. I will credit the authors for their original work.

I hope to celebrate, appreciate, and take part in: the Era of Remakes. The Era of Rebirth, if you will.

For although there is something souring about a parody, there’s also something sweet about a remake (even when it’s not a remake, and just uses the same name).

The mythologies of Gods were re-written over centuries, and continue to be remade to this very day. Thus, perhaps we’ve been in the Era of Rebirth since the time of the Ancient Egyptians, or even before then.

This post is dedicated to Deven Verma, who passed away at the age of 77, and Mohammed Yusuf ‘Dilip Kumar‘ Khan who passed away last year on July 7th. These are two actors my mom remembers.

A Prayer, A Poem

Four, three, two

A day ago

I walked down, a-rode,


And saw such a sight, behold:


Now what was sacred’s stolen, and what’s stolen’s sacred

As the cult of over-stimulation rears its ugly bee-hind

What was beautiful is now behind Us

Now, how can I say what’s sacred?!

When such deaths have occurred before and in front of me

For it was not just a day ago, but today too:

That such sights were seen

: (

Today, Too

Here lie these fallen heroes, Here lie these Kings of Wind

For every breath of Air we breathe comes from a flutter of mighty Wings

O Angels, now let your wings take them even further, even higher above

For this Earth, this ground became too filled with poison

As we pumped pompous pints of poisonous plumes into the sky

We poisoned the very ancestors of our spirits above

Now show me Spirits, Show me what’s sacred!

Let these Fallen Warriors become Sacred, become Heroes, once More


Without the beauty of birds,

The world seems a bit greyer

The higher the flyers

The birds are greater

O Spirits of the Sky!

Accept this prayer

O Watcher from Above,

Accept our Love

At the end of this prayer, at the end o’ these Eulogies

I want to Offer and offer sincerest Apolo*-Jeezus


Now I know, now I know They’re gone

Now I know

They’re nearer, my god, to Thee

Now prayers of ours are answered for me


It’s clearer, my Gods, to me

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