Back when I worked in Dubai, we used to get deadlines that would make any self respecting human being blink a couple of times, shake the coconut from left to right and again from right to left, say "you must be stark raving mad if you expect me to finish the job in the time you're saying I should" and repeat the process all over again until reality sinks in.
Doing something for a protracted period of time makes a person get used to the activity, so it is that managers get used to dumping work and ignoring above mentioned gawking and us Senior Associates (Sr. Ass' for short, no really, no pun intended - were called that) would stop doing the gawking routine, accept reality for what it is and set about our tasks valiantly.
Occasionally, in extreme cases when, at 11PM, the deadline is for 8AM the next morning, we would use the ol' noodle and fill up a file with information that has, lets say, some scope for improvement on the quality front, just to buy time until the file comes flying back to us for not being "up to standard", only to rectify it with all the relevant information and submit a fresh file.
The biggest advantage of the above approach is hidden. By submitting something that has scope for improvement, you manage to pull one off on the unreasonable manager because he is going to go through all of it, only to have to go through it again, this time when he is under pressure. So if you disregard the abuse, it is good fun, atleast in hind-sight
All this, just to meet the deadline.
Why am I saying all this? Remember my promise of 3 posts a month? Today is 30 April and I've only had 3 in the kitty this month. Pulled a fast one on you didn't I?
Thursday, 30 April 2009
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
Should I bring out the bubbly?
My name is Anand and I'm (supposed to be) a geek. And in Geekland, today I got the ultimate reward. I'll get to it in a bit. First, more on why I'm a geek.
Geek is a label that my sister lovingly stuck onto my forehead while I was with her in Dubai. I think that label is wrong more on account of her being 'um, lets say, "technologically challenged" rather than on my being any sort of technical gee-whiz with soda bottle glasses. You see, back then, when I was in Dubai, I was a man of simple means, living the bachelor life in a single room with no TV or girlfriends to keep me company. So it became that my means of entertainment centred around the Internet and appliances that make it possible to connect to the Internet - i.e., computers and related items.
I was quite content using my office laptop with a tethered connection for these pursuits until the suits in my office decided that using the office laptop for personal purposes was blasphemy and blocked all the fun software - messengers, video players and the like. For some sadistic reason, there were some software that were not blocked, but an email was circulated saying you may install these software, but if you get caught, somebody's gonna get hurt, we won't say who.
I needed a personal laptop now and not wanting to settle for anything else, it came in the form of a Mac. Soon I was blissfully spending nights watching movies online and even downloading some of them. Problem solved? No. My Mac has a 13" screen, so keeping it tethered meant the screen was faraway and audio sounded wonky. So I got a wireless router and sound blasters (again of the super fast and super fine quality varieties respectively). Problem number 3 was that I was running out disc space thanks to my fire-at-will downloading, so I needed more hard disk space and that came in the form of a 500GB WD MyBook (back then that was the most space available). The only drawback to the above was the minefield of wires that necessitated tip-toeing into my room to avoid an urgent meeting between face and floor. So that's about my computing pursuits.
Next on the list is my love of good mobile phones running Windows Mobile and lovely, fun filled hours spent customising them with custom ROMs that I tested for some 'fellow' geeks at an online forum. The result - three phones, with one almost always connected to my laptop. That's it.
When I started this blog, I also included a stat counter so I can see which countries people are visiting my page from and get some cheap kicks out of that. So in geek terms, I am really only a teenager who is experimenting and nowhere near the professional that I am portrayed to be. I can see true geeks nodding in agreement and I am thankful to them.
But please, pretty please, call me a geek! Why, because I got the reward mentioned above. With frowning eyebrows, I can see you asking me what that reward is. Here it is:
my page is listed 6th out of 4.2 million web pages, I am on Google!
PS: I will not rest until I reach the number 1 spot. So, to answer my question, no I will not bring out the bubbly on this occasion, but yes, I might just treat myself to another custom ROM...
Geek is a label that my sister lovingly stuck onto my forehead while I was with her in Dubai. I think that label is wrong more on account of her being 'um, lets say, "technologically challenged" rather than on my being any sort of technical gee-whiz with soda bottle glasses. You see, back then, when I was in Dubai, I was a man of simple means, living the bachelor life in a single room with no TV or girlfriends to keep me company. So it became that my means of entertainment centred around the Internet and appliances that make it possible to connect to the Internet - i.e., computers and related items.
I was quite content using my office laptop with a tethered connection for these pursuits until the suits in my office decided that using the office laptop for personal purposes was blasphemy and blocked all the fun software - messengers, video players and the like. For some sadistic reason, there were some software that were not blocked, but an email was circulated saying you may install these software, but if you get caught, somebody's gonna get hurt, we won't say who.
I needed a personal laptop now and not wanting to settle for anything else, it came in the form of a Mac. Soon I was blissfully spending nights watching movies online and even downloading some of them. Problem solved? No. My Mac has a 13" screen, so keeping it tethered meant the screen was faraway and audio sounded wonky. So I got a wireless router and sound blasters (again of the super fast and super fine quality varieties respectively). Problem number 3 was that I was running out disc space thanks to my fire-at-will downloading, so I needed more hard disk space and that came in the form of a 500GB WD MyBook (back then that was the most space available). The only drawback to the above was the minefield of wires that necessitated tip-toeing into my room to avoid an urgent meeting between face and floor. So that's about my computing pursuits.
Next on the list is my love of good mobile phones running Windows Mobile and lovely, fun filled hours spent customising them with custom ROMs that I tested for some 'fellow' geeks at an online forum. The result - three phones, with one almost always connected to my laptop. That's it.
When I started this blog, I also included a stat counter so I can see which countries people are visiting my page from and get some cheap kicks out of that. So in geek terms, I am really only a teenager who is experimenting and nowhere near the professional that I am portrayed to be. I can see true geeks nodding in agreement and I am thankful to them.
But please, pretty please, call me a geek! Why, because I got the reward mentioned above. With frowning eyebrows, I can see you asking me what that reward is. Here it is:
my page is listed 6th out of 4.2 million web pages, I am on Google!PS: I will not rest until I reach the number 1 spot. So, to answer my question, no I will not bring out the bubbly on this occasion, but yes, I might just treat myself to another custom ROM...
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Of chips and teenagers
With that out of my system, I can now move on with what I want to say now.
While Lovedale was a lovely place – peaceful and calm, safe and secure, paradise on Earth etc., - to cut a long story short, it was the perfect place to grow up. Nevertheless, there was one major gripe I had with the place – the lack of eateries. It wasn’t possible to sneak a visit to a nearby restaurant to grab a tasty bite, heck, there wasn’t even a decent place to buy snacks apart from the school Tuck Shop, but I couldn’t go there because Joe Uncle, the Tuck Shop manager was also the local ration shop keeper and in that capacity was good conversation terms with amma, worse still, he would go straight to appa, the Dean of the School, and spill the beans about my snacking exploits, leading to a money laundering style enquiry on where the money was obtained from and why I was wasting it on such frivolities as snacking, so that was a no-go. The only other place was Pitchies below Prep School. The risk with that place was that to sneak down to the shop from Prep School, I had to pass by Mrs Vaidyanathan’s house or if I took the long winded route from behind Prep School, I’ll have to pass Raghavan uncle’s, Jadgeesh Pandey’s, and finally Ms Virk’s house, all of which would for sure lead to the enquiry mentioned above.
So here I was, a boy in my early teens with hormones or plain hyper activity making my ravenously hungry all the time with just 3 square meals a day to look forward to (5 if you include morning and afternoon tea). Yes, I know it sounds shallow, what will people not getting 1 square meal a day and all that, but try that argument with a hungry, spoilt 14 year old and you’ll be amazed at the power in those little arms as they give you a fat lip.
That’s not to say there wouldn’t be snacks at home – appa would stock up on snacks like there was not tomorrow, but they didn’t feel the same as buying your own on the sly (though this didn’t really prevent me from stuffing my face, it’s a question of satisfaction, you see). There was only one exception to the rule – banana chips from A1 Chips in
The only time I did OD on those deliciously crisp, yellow fellers was when I finished an entire kilo in one sitting without sharing. Needless to say, the following two days were spent in the immediate vicinity of a toilet.
Now, I can only dream of those chips for I have searched high and low in
Monday, 30 March 2009
Executive chaos
Google for the word ‘perseverance’ and chances are you are likely to come up with one and only one result and that result would probably have my name all over it! Not Ghajini Mohammed, not Kamal Haasan, not George Bush, just good ‘ol me. I’m afraid I’m too chicken to check it out myself, but I’ll be dashed if it wasn’t me. What makes me so cocky about this? What tremendous feat have I accomplished to feel so sure?
Canary Wharf
United States
Here, I also wish to put on record that I suck at names. So, for the first 50-60 pages, each time I come across a name that doesn’t ring a bell, I would dutifully flip back and see if the character has been introduced earlier in the book before saying hello to him/her for the first time. This diligence resulted in me taking approx. 3 weeks to finish the first 50-60 pages and I’m none the wiser as to whom is who. Add to this, the hero of this book is a bloke called Jack Middlename Ryan and Mr. Clancy uses any of the 3 names randomly to refer to the hero, a fact that I only realised around page 75, thereby ruining my understanding that there are 3 heroes in this book.
As if all this were not enough to throw one off track, the author deftly starts bowling googlies in the name of conversations. Consider this – the scene is a bunch of people sitting around a table and whining – for the sake of simplicity (see, I think about simplicity – TC doesn’t) let’s name them A, B and C. How would any author describe the scene?
“A, B and C were sitting around a table. A said to B, “I think this is blah, blah, blahdiblah”, then turned to C and asked him, “What do you think C?””
Not TC. This is how the same scene would look like in his book: “A and B were in the room sitting around the table. “ I think this is blah, blah, blahdiblah”, “What do you think C?”” Caught you running back to the top of the line to see where C appeared didn’t I? Now try doing this every alternate page and just for fun, substitute “A” with a name like “Domingo Chaves”, “B” with “Rusedsky Pavlovsky” and “C” with “Godknows Whattonamethis Character” and use either first name or second name at random and you begin to scratch the surface of what I’m going through here.
In Mr Clancy’s defence, he is a very good author and I am probably one of his slowest, dumbest readers, but hey, a guy’s gotta cater to all tastes if he’s writing pulp fiction.
Using my astute powers of reading minds, I know one of the wise readers of this blog are going to ask me, “If it’s so darn tough to read the book, why on Earth are you reading it?” My reply is this: when a dog chases a car, it really believes it’s onto something big and when it catches the car, its going to be good and so it chases and chases real hard. I’m doing the same. I believe that if and when I do understand the plot, it’s going to be interesting…
PS: another benefit of reading the book is this – try reading a book that is 6 inches thick on the tube and see how intelligent you look, it’s all about appearances! (wink, wink)
Here, I also wish to put on record that I suck at names. So, for the first 50-60 pages, each time I come across a name that doesn’t ring a bell, I would dutifully flip back and see if the character has been introduced earlier in the book before saying hello to him/her for the first time. This diligence resulted in me taking approx. 3 weeks to finish the first 50-60 pages and I’m none the wiser as to whom is who. Add to this, the hero of this book is a bloke called Jack Middlename Ryan and Mr. Clancy uses any of the 3 names randomly to refer to the hero, a fact that I only realised around page 75, thereby ruining my understanding that there are 3 heroes in this book.
As if all this were not enough to throw one off track, the author deftly starts bowling googlies in the name of conversations. Consider this – the scene is a bunch of people sitting around a table and whining – for the sake of simplicity (see, I think about simplicity – TC doesn’t) let’s name them A, B and C. How would any author describe the scene?
“A, B and C were sitting around a table. A said to B, “I think this is blah, blah, blahdiblah”, then turned to C and asked him, “What do you think C?””
Not TC. This is how the same scene would look like in his book: “A and B were in the room sitting around the table. “ I think this is blah, blah, blahdiblah”, “What do you think C?”” Caught you running back to the top of the line to see where C appeared didn’t I? Now try doing this every alternate page and just for fun, substitute “A” with a name like “Domingo Chaves”, “B” with “Rusedsky Pavlovsky” and “C” with “Godknows Whattonamethis Character” and use either first name or second name at random and you begin to scratch the surface of what I’m going through here.
In Mr Clancy’s defence, he is a very good author and I am probably one of his slowest, dumbest readers, but hey, a guy’s gotta cater to all tastes if he’s writing pulp fiction.
Using my astute powers of reading minds, I know one of the wise readers of this blog are going to ask me, “If it’s so darn tough to read the book, why on Earth are you reading it?” My reply is this: when a dog chases a car, it really believes it’s onto something big and when it catches the car, its going to be good and so it chases and chases real hard. I’m doing the same. I believe that if and when I do understand the plot, it’s going to be interesting…
PS: another benefit of reading the book is this – try reading a book that is 6 inches thick on the tube and see how intelligent you look, it’s all about appearances! (wink, wink)
Friday, 27 March 2009
How I saved £9,970
My morning routine is just what it is, routine, getting up with a great deal of difficulty and around 7 ‘snoozes’ of the alarm, followed by daily duties part 1, a hot cuppa coffee with the newspaper, daily duties part 2, breakfast and running out of the house, late as usual.
The first 1.5 hours of this morning were no different and I found bursting into the train, huffing and puffing in a way that would shame Mr. Wolf, for I had done a manic 200 metre, 2 storey (3 storeys to them Americans) dash to catch the train, carrying my considerable bulk and around 15 kg of equipment and book (more on the book in the next post), breaking several land speed records in between.
I found a place to sit and tried to calm my breath, which incidentally, had no intentions of doing as I begged it to do. Textbook stuff so far. Then things changed. The man sitting opposite my seat was an elderly person of the English variety i.e., suit, tie, polished black shoes, newspaper in hand with the obligatory spectacles. Little did I realise, that barely 10 minutes later, this man would make my day…
With breath finally under control, heartbeat slowing down from humming bird speed to human-like speed, I was able to take in the finer details of other occupants of the train. I feel obligated to explain matters a bit here. Sizing up occupants of the tube is a national pastime here. You can’t find it in culture books; you won’t hear anyone talk about it. All it involves is a surreptitious peak through the corner of one’s eye while appearing to read a newspaper. Everyone does that and no eye contact is made whatsoever.
So here I am, sitting down, ‘reading’ (wink, wink) my book and looking around when I notice this person’s wrist. A shiny, golden object catches my attention and immediately looks familiar. Deeper analyses confirm my suspicions and I’m getting jubilant by the minute. Yes, his watch is the same as mine. I can see most people reaching this part of the post and wondering what is wrong with me and why am I getting so excited about finding another person wearing the same watch as me. Can skeptics please allow me to explain?
The watch was visually identical to mine, same cut bezel, golden dial, magnified date, silver metal strap with a golden strip in between. The only difference is that his was a Rolex and mine is a Paolo Gucci (in Mr. P. Gucci’s defence I don’t think he is in anyway related to the fashion designer Gucci. They just share a surname much like you would get a zillion people with surnames like Kumar, Rao, Reddy etc.). That discovery had me thinking – did the cheapskates at Rolex copy Mr. Gucci or was it vice versa or was it merely a case of great minds thinking alike? It’s probably vice versa, but whatever!
The fact that actually made my day was this. This poor loser had probably shelled out £10,000 for that watch while the good Mr Gucci decided to supply mine for £30. So is my watch a cheap knock-off or is his an overpriced rip-off? Let me know in the comments. Before you jump at the opportunity of knock-off bashing and beat me black and blue, consider this. If PG can sell a watch for £30 while still making a profit, what is the justification for Rolex selling it at £10,000? Quality wise, on a scale of 1 to 10, if we blindly give Rolex a 10, my PG would surely come in at 5 (reliability and looks), so is the fit, finish and goodwill of the Rolex for the remaining 5 points worth £9,970?
If the Rolex loses 1 second in a 1000 years (that’s 1 minute in 60,000 years), how are you going to find out of that claim is true? Not in your life, or your children’s or theirs or theirs…with the PG, it probably loses a minute every 2 years and all that’s required then is to pluck the crown out, increase the time by a minute and push the crown back in. Process done in 10 seconds. No sir, I am not paying £9,970 to save 10 seconds for the 601st generation of my family. I’m sure humans wouldn’t even exist then, let alone that watch.
Finally, I urge you not to dismiss me as a bloke who supports the piracy industry; I assure you I am not. I am merely a person close to the heart of well meaning people who gifted me the Paolo Gucci watch. So then, should the title of this post be “How I saved £10,000” because I haven’t paid for the watch in the first place?
The first 1.5 hours of this morning were no different and I found bursting into the train, huffing and puffing in a way that would shame Mr. Wolf, for I had done a manic 200 metre, 2 storey (3 storeys to them Americans) dash to catch the train, carrying my considerable bulk and around 15 kg of equipment and book (more on the book in the next post), breaking several land speed records in between.
I found a place to sit and tried to calm my breath, which incidentally, had no intentions of doing as I begged it to do. Textbook stuff so far. Then things changed. The man sitting opposite my seat was an elderly person of the English variety i.e., suit, tie, polished black shoes, newspaper in hand with the obligatory spectacles. Little did I realise, that barely 10 minutes later, this man would make my day…
With breath finally under control, heartbeat slowing down from humming bird speed to human-like speed, I was able to take in the finer details of other occupants of the train. I feel obligated to explain matters a bit here. Sizing up occupants of the tube is a national pastime here. You can’t find it in culture books; you won’t hear anyone talk about it. All it involves is a surreptitious peak through the corner of one’s eye while appearing to read a newspaper. Everyone does that and no eye contact is made whatsoever.
So here I am, sitting down, ‘reading’ (wink, wink) my book and looking around when I notice this person’s wrist. A shiny, golden object catches my attention and immediately looks familiar. Deeper analyses confirm my suspicions and I’m getting jubilant by the minute. Yes, his watch is the same as mine. I can see most people reaching this part of the post and wondering what is wrong with me and why am I getting so excited about finding another person wearing the same watch as me. Can skeptics please allow me to explain?
The watch was visually identical to mine, same cut bezel, golden dial, magnified date, silver metal strap with a golden strip in between. The only difference is that his was a Rolex and mine is a Paolo Gucci (in Mr. P. Gucci’s defence I don’t think he is in anyway related to the fashion designer Gucci. They just share a surname much like you would get a zillion people with surnames like Kumar, Rao, Reddy etc.). That discovery had me thinking – did the cheapskates at Rolex copy Mr. Gucci or was it vice versa or was it merely a case of great minds thinking alike? It’s probably vice versa, but whatever!
The fact that actually made my day was this. This poor loser had probably shelled out £10,000 for that watch while the good Mr Gucci decided to supply mine for £30. So is my watch a cheap knock-off or is his an overpriced rip-off? Let me know in the comments. Before you jump at the opportunity of knock-off bashing and beat me black and blue, consider this. If PG can sell a watch for £30 while still making a profit, what is the justification for Rolex selling it at £10,000? Quality wise, on a scale of 1 to 10, if we blindly give Rolex a 10, my PG would surely come in at 5 (reliability and looks), so is the fit, finish and goodwill of the Rolex for the remaining 5 points worth £9,970?
If the Rolex loses 1 second in a 1000 years (that’s 1 minute in 60,000 years), how are you going to find out of that claim is true? Not in your life, or your children’s or theirs or theirs…with the PG, it probably loses a minute every 2 years and all that’s required then is to pluck the crown out, increase the time by a minute and push the crown back in. Process done in 10 seconds. No sir, I am not paying £9,970 to save 10 seconds for the 601st generation of my family. I’m sure humans wouldn’t even exist then, let alone that watch.
Finally, I urge you not to dismiss me as a bloke who supports the piracy industry; I assure you I am not. I am merely a person close to the heart of well meaning people who gifted me the Paolo Gucci watch. So then, should the title of this post be “How I saved £10,000” because I haven’t paid for the watch in the first place?
Thursday, 12 March 2009
The same thing, in English please...
"I am awaiting confirmation of a B wave low in order to go long and ride wave C higher to 1.50 +. “The count that I am working with now treats the rally from 1.35 to 1.4990 as wave A of a flat (flats have subwaves 3-3-5).” Wave B is in 3 waves and waves a and c of B are roughly equal (a common occurrence). Exceeding 1.3954 would be the first sign that a low is in place. Until then, there is the possibility of price testing 1.35."
I have a confession to make. I am a bean counter, a bean counter of the boring variety. Wait a minute, that's NOT my confession, I'm still getting to it! A bean counter who is worth his beans would, theoretically speaking, understand what's written in the preceding paragraph. I don't. Its all gobbledegook to me. This gives me the same vague confusion that comes from reading free horoscope predictions.
Take this gem for instance:
"Longer term, if the USDCAD is breaking higher in an impulse as a terminal thrust from a triangle (that had been underway since October), then price needs to remain above 1.2348."
Any normal, red blooded male would think this is an excerpt from a romantic novel in which the story is at that critical stage when the hero, USD and the heroine, CAD are going to do things which only dirty little or highly romantic minds (depending on which side of the coin you're looking at) can come up with. But no, this is a long term forecast for the US Dollar and Canadian Dollar!
Do you know what's at the root of my problems? Mozilla Firefox, version 3.1 to be precise. The blasted browser is awesome at all times except when it has the little "subscribe to feed" link with each web page. While researching some stuff about foreign exchange rates, I came across this site which gives forex forecasts and promptly hit subscribe, only to feel inadequate with every passing day.
Woe is me....
Note: All text in italics are part of an actual forex forecast taken from the website wwwdotdailyfxdotcom and is copy righted to them. Feel free to check it out and join me in my inadequacy buhahaha....
I have a confession to make. I am a bean counter, a bean counter of the boring variety. Wait a minute, that's NOT my confession, I'm still getting to it! A bean counter who is worth his beans would, theoretically speaking, understand what's written in the preceding paragraph. I don't. Its all gobbledegook to me. This gives me the same vague confusion that comes from reading free horoscope predictions.
Take this gem for instance:
"Longer term, if the USDCAD is breaking higher in an impulse as a terminal thrust from a triangle (that had been underway since October), then price needs to remain above 1.2348."
Any normal, red blooded male would think this is an excerpt from a romantic novel in which the story is at that critical stage when the hero, USD and the heroine, CAD are going to do things which only dirty little or highly romantic minds (depending on which side of the coin you're looking at) can come up with. But no, this is a long term forecast for the US Dollar and Canadian Dollar!
Do you know what's at the root of my problems? Mozilla Firefox, version 3.1 to be precise. The blasted browser is awesome at all times except when it has the little "subscribe to feed" link with each web page. While researching some stuff about foreign exchange rates, I came across this site which gives forex forecasts and promptly hit subscribe, only to feel inadequate with every passing day.
Woe is me....
Note: All text in italics are part of an actual forex forecast taken from the website wwwdotdailyfxdotcom and is copy righted to them. Feel free to check it out and join me in my inadequacy buhahaha....
Monday, 9 March 2009
Don't put word in my mouth(s)
I suppose its fair to assume that all readers of this blog are familiar with my grand entry into my role as a "grahasthan" or married bloke.
With the said entry, I also decided to do two more things:
I was in fact so cocky about my new found(again) love for writing that I even taunted a fellow blogger and incidentally, my sister, so much about not being an "active" blogger etc., that she joined forces with my wife and decided to rub it in just a wee bit. The result: a noise not different from the one emitted by that annoying character in the Simpsons movie - Nelson who goes ha-ha, ha-ha much to Bart Simpson's "predicament".
What had happened, in reality, is that I had hit a terrible case of writer's block. I hate to admit that this was no ordinary block, considering it partnered with a certain Mr. V Lazy to make matters worse.
Ergo, this post is to clarify to skeptics amongst us that by no means are my first few posts a flash in the pan. I will belt out new posts every so often, stay tuned.*
Boy do I sound like a politician or what!!! I'm proud of myself.
The small print
With the said entry, I also decided to do two more things:
- start blogging
- advertise decision 1 to near and dear and basically anyone who cared to listen.
I was in fact so cocky about my new found(again) love for writing that I even taunted a fellow blogger and incidentally, my sister, so much about not being an "active" blogger etc., that she joined forces with my wife and decided to rub it in just a wee bit. The result: a noise not different from the one emitted by that annoying character in the Simpsons movie - Nelson who goes ha-ha, ha-ha much to Bart Simpson's "predicament".
What had happened, in reality, is that I had hit a terrible case of writer's block. I hate to admit that this was no ordinary block, considering it partnered with a certain Mr. V Lazy to make matters worse.
Ergo, this post is to clarify to skeptics amongst us that by no means are my first few posts a flash in the pan. I will belt out new posts every so often, stay tuned.*
Boy do I sound like a politician or what!!! I'm proud of myself.
The small print
- * in order to avoid any further doubt, I hereby clarify that by use of the term "every so often" and "being regular", what I really mean is a sum total in the region of 25 posts a year.
- what this small print is effectively trying to convey is that no further ha-ha's will be entertained until re-evaluation of the performance of this blog on 9 March 2010.
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