So after reading some of the works of 20th century on such political matters (Brave New World, 1984, Fahrenheit 451), all of them being set in a futuristic 'deemed-to-be-perfect' societies, I wondered and wondered and wondered at every page I turned. Not only did they remind me of Swift's Gulliver Travels (the work which I think is the true daddy of them all in this aspect),

they made me ask myself the question that I very obscenely pasted into the title of this post.

My answer, to that, would prolly begin by asking the definition of "perfect". Does perfect mean that the happiness index is highest? Or does it mean that the rate of progress in science/art is highest? Because, my humble and idle reader, you must clearly see, that "meanings" of "perfect" are quite contrary to other in terms of parallel sustenance. 'Perfect' being a very mean word on its own. When we're all happy, nobody would bother progressing, and when we're progressive, all of us won't be equally happy. There.

But what I just said, is nothing new. We all know that and also that, that I merely dodged the question (that I myself posed in the first place) in the most hideous and pedantic manner. To answer now, I'd say, it's really hard to have a perfect society. At least the kind of society in which perfect means the way I see it. And the way I see it, "perfect" means so much and encompasses that very much, that by logic, it defeats perfection itself, reaches a state beyond perfection, which I call the perfect-perfection, and so it becomes unattainable, in fact, rather unthinkable.

On our road to perfection, we might begin by dissolving differences, by diluting the variations of color, caste, creed, language - which I believe are foremost in requirements (if there were any) but then how formless or bland that society would be? How plaintive would be the morphology of such a society which has no differences or shades or nuances? But then, in our pursuit of those differences, we pose the risk of losing equality. And even if, we do manage to bring everything to equality, can we really control conditioning (or bringing up of a human) so flawlessly that it achieves our set standards and goals? And if we do, where are we headed? To a brave new world? Oh Lord! Oh Ford!

And so I'd stop the rant, and recommend Thomas More's Utopia for further reading if you really cared and didn't hit the little cross on the top right hand corner so far. For, Utopia is a perfect place and a place that, literally, doesn't exist.

Swimming is one of those "staying healthy" evil schemes that I adopted this summer along with gym, yoga and other fitness classes. This is the only time that I can even think of such things, as once classes start in the Fall semester, I won't have any time. That's a good thing about studying in US, you get summer holidays. 4 months of summer vacation. But ofcourse smarter people work and earn money during this time. I'm just a fool horsing around.

Anyway, so yeah, I just can't swim. I have tried a few times, my friend who's teaching me, says it will take about 30-40 trials. But that's sad. I was hoping to learn it within 4-5 trials, assuming that I am a super genius and all. Turns out am not. Well, that's not a surprise. Happens with me a lot.

And I hate those shitty little kids swarming in the pool. They are swimming around so perfectly. Like naked little demons with wiggly sharp tails. They make me drown myself with shame - in the shallowest section of the pool. And there are about millions of them in that bloody pool. That's the worst part.

My back, oh Christ, my back, hurts. I have begun to believe now that due to the sins of past (Thanks Mr. Computer) my back has been irreparably damaged, and now it can't arch up the way it's required to in order to be able to be swim. And whenever I try to to be afloat and raise my legs to the water level, the spine yells like it's being tortured by a Chinese (Well, I love them though) and subsequently forces my old body to drown. Breathing under water isn't no chicks game either. Nevertheless, I kept trying.

I wasn't sure till today if any improvement had occurred. But you know what? Today I swam two laps, yeah two complete laps. So you see? You basically need determination, hard work, focus and all that similar kind of crap to be successful in life and of course you need to be a super-awesome genius, about which we both exactly know that how much we're kidding ourselves when it comes to such matters and illusions of grandeur.

(No, am kidding of course. I did swim but with a bunch of air bloated rubber props keeping me afloat. Which, is lame. I still can't do shit in water.)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 Really SUCKED Hard:

I was too excited and skipping about in my frock, and all prepared to end the decade old legend after refreshing my mind by revising the previous movies (out of which only the third holds some respect in my eyes, rest of them are pretty okayish and don't even get me started on David Yates please), so I bought some costly IMAX tickets and braced myself with some popcorn.

Well, turned out, popcorn were good. They were salty, soft, butter coated, and possessed an amazing instantaneous ability to melt between human palates. And a pretty good deal too, 3 bucks for a large one. What? Movie? Oh yeah, the movie, I nearly forgot about that. It was fine. No wait, which movie you said? Harry Potter one? Oh it sucked. Oh Christ.

It. Sucked.

I don't see why the entire crew continued to make a parody of themselves under the burden of such a huge budget. And JKR? Well, she never really could interfere so we can't blame her I suppose. I mean, all the characters, everyone is passing on POOREST PJ's throughout the movie.

McGonagal, or however you spell that old witch's name, passes a terrible joke "Ooooo I always wanted to cast that spell!" when in a grim atmosphere she awakens the Hogwarts Guardians. And then in the end, Ron is all lewd about the Elder Wand. I mean, I think he's lusty throughout the movie, like a wasted boyfriend dripping saliva around an overly hot girlfriend. An adorable character, brought to such a mess. And then the miserable couple never get tired of kissing each other "Brilliant!" "Brilliant!" whenever they get a chance. Thanks Harry Potter Film people. Thanks.

When I returned home my mouth's taste was so bad (not literally, popcorn was good) I had to wash it off so I watched "The Godfather", and oh my, after that, I totally forgot that I was once so crazy a fan of Harry Potter that I failed my 10th Grade Maths exam because I was reading Order of the Phoenix before the exam because I had borrowed the book from some lame guy who would want it back after the exams end, so that he can read it again a few times in the holidays.

Anyway, in old times, I loved the books, no doubt about that. And fear not, fantasy lovers! 'The Hobbit' is coming soon.

Well, based on some of the classics I currently read by Joyce, Faulkner, Hemingway, Twain etc etc, here are some general points:

1. Always read these classic or difficult texts in the day time or when you have a lot of energy. Do NOT read while going to bed, you won't get anything out of them. Other than sleep, of course. Which, according to me, sometimes, is the best use those garbled texts within dusty cover can provide.

2. Be prepared for a lot of suffering. Like, a lot of suffering and tragedy. Oh wait, no, Twain was hilarious.

4. Based on above point, every great classic has a certain % level after which you really start understanding the things for the first time. For eg, James Joyce's "A Potrait of..." it took about 80% of the book to make me understand what was going on. Faulkner's both books I read (As I lay dying, The sound and the fury), took 50% before they could get me. So keep going, keep reading, you will, at some % of book finished, get the things.

5. And if all else fails, you can always read Wikipedia. That's okay.