Peanut butter

...is not nice. Really, it's not. And even if it were (which it isn't, wasn't, couldn't ever be) spreading it over every animal, mineral and vegetable would still be, frankly, foul. Run hybrid cars off the stuff, sure. Just don't put it in your mouth.

It's Guy Fawkes Day back home. Among the lesser-known feast days in the calendar, I find. It's one of those things that tends to take you by pleasant surprise, usually when you're least expecting it. Then *WHAM*, fireworks, sparklers and burning popes galore!

An even more major festival - is that possible? - is also upon us. Diwali is the Hindu celebration of the return of Ram, along with Lakshman and Sita, from his long exile, for which lamps (दीप, pronounced "deep" in Sanskrit, hence the full name दीपावली, "deepavali") are lit in commemoration. There's a gathering in the President's Room here tonight I'll be attending. It promises to be very colorful.

I'm currently tinkering on a few pet projects, besides the normal routine. A study of how various political indicators affect fraud and corruption in India's food Public Distribution System. A book review of a small collection of essays titled "Democracies in Danger". And getting down to work on an article about medical tourism in South and South-East Asia with Mike. Hopefully my productivity levels will be equal to these manifold tasks; I have to admit my energy's waning a tad. Thanksgiving break can't arrive a moment too soon.

So, to merry Britons whose august parliamentary democracy and established religion remains in-tact, enjoy the bonfires. And to Americans (who, by the way, appear to have gone slightly bananas judging by this week's midterms), lay off the peanut butter, for no good will come of it.