This new century, still only a few years old, is likely to witness the rapid ascendancy of China and India as both economic and political superpowers. But before they can claim that kind of status, both countries will have to endure the same kind of social upheaval that nearly tore America and Europe apart in the early decades of the last century. Perhaps that explains the enormous popularity of Slumdog Millionaire among American audiences. We see echoes of our own past in the struggles of present-day Indians to rise out of poverty through hard work, ingenuity, and a dash of luck. But that movie is only one version of India’s rags-to-riches story. Aravind Adiga’s The White Tiger offers a darker glimpse of modern India.

The book is a series of confessional letters written by a Bangalore entrepreneur named Balram and addressed to the Chinese president. Balram only knows the Chinese leader through reports on Indian news, but he feels compelled to share his story of how he left an isolated village to seek work in New Delhi. Balram eventually finds work as a driver for a wealthy family, a position that his village relatives both envy and respect. But Balram soon realizes that he is nothing more than a servant in a long line of servants. He has no desire devote decades of his like to working for a cruel, petty boss only to be tossed to the streets when his eyesight fails or his reflexes slow. Balram decides he needs to take drastic measures to escape the dreary life of a servant.

In telling his story, Balram indicts much of Indian society: its hopeless public education system, its messy and thoroughly corrupt political system, the bleak and persistent poverty, the greed of the wealthy outsourcing business owners (who themselves are servants to American corporations). These indictments are also Balram’s not-so-veiled excuses for his actions. But the book succeeds because Balram doesn’t try to delude himself or the reader. He recognizes that he is a deeply imperfect man trying to get by in a deeply imperfect country. His cynicism is tempered by his wit, giving this book a sharp satirical tone that even Dickens would have respected.

From the I Knew That Already Department comes a Wired Science story about the evolutionary roots of our tendency to stare at those with physical disfigurements. The story focuses primarily on staring at people with facial deformities, but the concept almost certainly applies to the rest of the human body. From the article:

To ensure the long-term survival of our species, we’re genetically predisposed to be attracted to symmetrical faces. The idea is that normal, healthy development free of disfiguring diseases or genetic mutations produces a symmetrical face. We unconsciously see symmetry as a marker of genetic quality. Our reaction to a face that is disfigured, however, also has links with short-term survival.

My symmetry ends just below my chin. I twist and curve like a slow river. I certainly don’t begrudge people’s stares. A few million years ago, I would have been that funny-looking ape with the oversized head who kept scribbling nonsense on tree bark.

Porn and the internet go together like, well, porn and the internet. It’s become so ubiquitous that now it’s just another feature of the pop culture. But we don’t often think about the people consuming all that porn. Video artist Robbie Cooper decided to point a camera at the people looking at internet porn for a project entitled Immersion: Porn. He interviews several people–men and women, straight and gay–about their reasons for viewing porn and then records them watching the stuff, keeping the camera focused on their faces. The video can probably be considered NSFW, as it’s pretty obvious that these people are enjoying a little self-pleasure. But the images are arresting and a vivid reminder that nothing strips away our reserve like an impending orgasm. And it’s honest in a way that porn never is. No pizza delivery boys or voluptuous schoolteachers here. Just average people dying little deaths.

You should be proud of yourself, Twitter. You’re actually good for something besides being an idle diversion for bored middle-class Westerners. Your role as a key communications tool for Iranian protesters is getting you all kinds of love from uber-bloggers like Andrew Sullivan. And good on you for delaying regularly scheduled maintenance to keep those lines of communication open. Maybe you can send Ashton Kutcher to Tehran for some man-on-the-scene tweeting. At the very least, it might give a few hundred thousand of his followers the incentive to learn where Iran is.

Do you consider me your friend? Well, that may be true now, but you might want to hold off on getting me that BFF charm bracelet. Studies show that social circles tend to look completely different after seven years. And no, that cute woman on your list of Facebook friends who used to know you in college but now only writes on your Wall once a year doesn’t count.

So if you’re waiting for me to buy that drink, you’d better get on my case because time’s a-wastin’.