Drummer's Diaries

The Ultimate Advice Column Ever

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 05:16:11 GMT

Self-help books are self-help for their authors. They sell you, your dream of making it big, in a better package than you could've wrapped yourself and charge you for it. But there is one self-help / advice column that I am completely in awe of. Mary Schmich's 1997 Chicago Tribune column(click to read the original article) which became an urban legend and transformed Ms Schmich in to Kurt Vonnegut overnight in cyber circles : Yes, I am talking about the much forwarded "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)"

You can watch her simple but incredibly powerful words accidentally discovered by Baz Luhrmann and set to music, in the video below.

If you are hearing about this for the first time(fat chance) you should definitely watch the video. If not, pardon me for thrusting it on your face once again after a decade long gap. You had thought it was safely tucked away into VH1's: I love the 90s attic. Oh, be a sport and listen to it one more time. To read more about Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen, refer to its wiki link.

Notes from my rear-view mirror

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 06:30:49 GMT

Paradise in those days of bruised scabby knees and wild hair was set in red laterite country. It had grandmothers who moved around in an ether of Ayurvedic oils handing out admonitions and sweat-meats with equal ease. The main citizens of this nation were a mob of tanned and rowdy cousins who would crawl out of the woodwork the minute we city-dwellers landed. Within the next few weeks we'd map every nook and cranny of the wild farmlands to the last earthworm and the last dragonfly (Dragonflies were particularly useful as these when tied with a string on their tails could be used as backhoes for picking up stones.) Our feet would tear fields and playgrounds to shreds as a determined sun watched on while vaporizing an occasional itinerant cloud.

.....and what you see above is a piece of that paradise. If it was a human this photo will be eligible to purchase and consume alcoholic beverages by this year. It doesn't know what it is missing. But you know. You are looking for 72 virgins, swaying palms and cool emerald water that are notable by their absence in my dated version of paradise. Instead what you see on either side of the mud road are rice fields getting roasted in ample solar radiation typical of April in South India. A river which could've salvaged the otherwise dry and dusty frame hides a couple of hundred meters behind me, the photographer.

I took the picture with my trusted Yashica. A few of my cousins and my sister are in the photo. The two men in lungi are passersby. The photo has been tickled a bit by my funny photoshop bone. I couldn't help but contribute to the mutilation of the photo already warped by time, weather, scanning conditions and a 13 year old amateur camera aficionado (I bet you just calculated my age.) The only person untouched in the picture is the man wearing thoppikuda (thoppi= hat, kuda = umbrella.) It is my homage to an extinct age when thoppikudas could travel inconspicuously in public without eliciting puzzled glances and when I was at an age, like the one perfectly summed up in this song,

It was always summer and the future called
We were ready for adventures and we wanted them all
And there was so much left to dream
And so much time to make it real

Earlier in the day this song (or rather the refrain, I do not know any song beyond their chorus) was making rounds in my brain. Sung by the beefy bard of modern rock ballads a line from it was adopted by automakers world wide and affixed on many rear-view mirrors. The automakers might claim it was the other way around. But I wouldn't doubt the ingenuity of bards of any kind, from anywhere, whether from New World or Old Country.

I've unstuck a line from the lyrics and have pasted it on the photo. The rest of it is here.

..There are times I think I see him peeling out of the dark
I think he's right behind me now and he's gaining ground

But it was long ago and it was far away, oh God it seems so very far
And if life is just a highway, then the soul is just a car
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are
And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are

Like Kenny in the song this photo has a cousin of mine who is with us no more (you can only see his brown legs, not his face) and there are times I think I see him peeling out of the dark.....I am thirteen again and it is summer blazing up in the lost paddy fields in far-off Malabar.

Paradise Geo-coded: the exact location where the picture was taken two decades ago

Denali aka Mt.McKinley's South Face

Sun, 20 Sep 2009 20:10:27 GMT

The original image

Today's Ultimate Question

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 21:26:52 GMT

"How many roads must a man walk down?" Bob Dylan pondered in pop, back in '63. In Douglas Adams' H2G2, mice - hyper-intelligent pan-dimensional beings, responsible for the creation of the Earth asked the same question to the super computer Deep Thought as The Ultimate Q & A to reveal the truth about Life, Universe and Everything because they failed to come up with the real ultimate question. Come 21st century we have to modify this query a bit since walking is no longer the norm for going places and connecting with people.

"How many social networking sites should I create a profile and friend the same people, over and again?"

I remember the time when it all(the fancifully called Web 1.0) began for me, the moment of truth when you realize that there is more to internet than just email. In 1999 AD, I joined millions of others who were discovering(/had discovered) brand new free world of internet publishing. Virtual Publishing houses were offering megabits of free space at a time when most of us carried our data in floppy disks in limited kbs. I chose Y! Geocities because Yahoo had a Page Builder application which allowed drag and drop without any html. It was my first social network. Of course I am not forgetting Yahoo's chatrooms before it became all pr0n. Yahoo was such a pioneer, what has happened to you Yahoo!? Bits to bits, dots to dots, dashes to dashes, I did shed a tear when recently Geocities moved on to the Great Yonder, even on the internet death happens, dear ones pass away.

What had started with Geocities, AngelFire, Tripod trickle is today at Facebook, Blogger and Twitter torrent. These days, Live Journal doesn't even make the cut. But it is Facebook that really scares me. It is the reason I felt the need to break the blogging break. I need some answers, perhaps some of you might be able to provide those.

Now straight to my question, how does friends suggest on Facebook work? It creeps me out just knowing what it knows about me.

My history with Facebook is a long(by current social networking site standards) and an empty one. I got a FB account in '05 when it opened its doors to commoners. Since none of the people I knew were around in FB back then, I encrypted (a better word for forgot) the password in my mind and lost it, joined Orkut which was flush with homies.

Fast forward four years, the junta is moving on to FB, so I decided to unlock my Facebook account, to see what the buzz is all about. FB sends the forgotten password to my email account and I am in. The first thing that's on my face at Facebook is the Friends Suggestions. How does it know the people I know?

Let me give you the details. The email account I used for creating the FB id is not a personal one, but the one I use for buying, selling on Ebay, Craigslist and the like. There are no personal friends on its contact list. I have no friends on my Friends list at FB. I had not filled my employment, education or location details while creating the account and I do not use my real name as the user name. In short I was anonymous as I could be or I thought so, still out of the 10 or so people FB suggested, three were people I know. It is almost sure that Facebook snoops into your inbox, but does it spider out its search to every other inbox in touch with the first one?

Facebook with its enormous volume of personal information(for starters, you told FB 25 random things about yourself) might hold us all for ransom if it feels like it. Ha, how I love issuing portending prophecies. We have already seen certain chinks in FB's character armor in Feb 09. No wonder Google feels threatened, Facebook is comfortably riding on its blind spot – holding data which Googlebots have no access to.

Personally I feel it is the right time to be a Digital Rebel, to stay away from the web mayhem unleashed by Facebook, Twitter, Digg and other similar internet pandemics. (How to become one could be the next post, stay tuned :P) Meanwhile if you know the answer to today ultimate question posted in bold red font, please leave a comment.

My Experiments with Paranormal and their Truth

Wed, 17 Jun 2009 23:24:04 GMT

If you are offered a choice between a free course in Paranormal Studies or a free course in Evolutionary Studies, each with hands-on projects, which one will you pick? I'll go for the Paranormal (Normal with a prefix usually offers some scope of excitement.) I am guessing most women/girls will do the same. Women being the natural adventurers they are wouldn't want to waste time on a dud subject like Evolution which has been done to dust already. I could be wrong, there might be women out there looking for that extra shot of adrenaline before they take on Intelligent Designers and a course in Evolutionary biology might be just what they need.

Men on the other hand, when offered the same choice, I am pretty sure, would like to steer clear of the Paranormal BS(as they'd call it.) They are simply not wired to yield to the paranormal, the extra-sensory, the sixth sense, the fourth dimension and the like, that easily. For men it is like asking directions. They cannot get over the crushing fear hard-coded into their Y chromosome that someone might get it right and it might not be them. Nor can they really commit to the idea that they are indeed interested in "unexplained mystical" phenomena as Miss Cleo or Moon landing. Imagine what a beating their male egos would take if the mystics/occultists turned out to be right? Finally there is no bigger shame for a man than being caught red-handed by their Beer Brotherhood while coming out of a seance-joint frequented by female imbeciles.

But if you ask me, I believe most people are closet meta-physicists because the mysteries of death and the great beyond have not given into physics as easily as thunder and lightning had. It begs for the 'meta' add-on. It's hard to resist the temptation to explore the unknown if an opportunity presents itself - like Jimmy Neutron offering you a ride in his space-ship or your neighbor conducting an exorcism right in the line of sight of your telescope. If someone tries to open the doors of the unknown when they are at their vulnerable and exploratory best, you should cut them some slack, especially if they are teenagers, which leads me to my story.

Teenage is when you overestimate your potential. Your days are crowded with experiments. Your mind is busier than Los Alamos lab cooking up the first A-bomb. When I was sixteen or seventeen I decided to take part in a so-called paranormal experiment under the influence of a friend who had become an authority in Ouija-board in a short span of days.

Conversing with spirits sounded infinitely more interesting than having meaningful conversations with my peers who were affected by giggling fits after every full-stop. Moreover spirits came with a bonus - they'd predict the future, not theirs(what kind of future can you have when you are in eternal limbo) but ours. Sweet deal, right?

I was on. We got out our antique Carrom board - Ouija board of choice in our part of the world. A carrom board of such advanced vintage could have easily been harboring any homeless ghosts who were looking for a cozy abode in the neighborhood. Once the perfect flat surface was found, we wrote our A to Zs and 0 thru' 9 along its four edges with chalk and marked a round circle in the center for the resident spirit who would be the fortune-teller for the session.
For all those unfamiliar with carom board, a copyright-free wikipedia image.

Three of us - mediums du jour, my friend the expert, I and my sister - novice trainees, put our forefingers on an upside down steel tumbler(in its commoner incarnation it was used to hold our daily cuppa) placed purposefully on the center circle and waited. For four hours. A epic lesson / achievement in patience for any teen.

Almost when we were about to throw up our hands in despair and abort the mission, the tumbler started moving in fits and starts. After the initial apprehension its movements became more furious, making fast concentric circles on the board like Lance Armstrong on overdrive. Our friend - the COBP(Certified Ouija Board Professional) commanded the spirit to stop, go to the center of the circle and wait for our questions. To our surprise the hysterical steel tumbler calmed down immediately and did as it was told. At this point you might question the credibility of our guide, the COBP. How can we be sure she was not making the tumbler move?

Wait, don't jump the gun. Honestly, it didn't feel like anyone of us was making it move, the tumbler seemed to have a life of its own. Our first question was about our future professions. "What will be X's profession when she grows up?" We asked loud and clear. No rules there, you can ask in unison or just one person, doesn’t matter for spirits have pretty good hearing. Then the tumbler would move to different letters and make up a word, say 'PILOT'. Good enough for us. After a few questions, we asked our friend COBP to remove her finger from the tumbler and both of us(my sister and I) went on with the QA session. The tumbler still moved, giving us one word answers to our eager queries about the future. We swore that neither of us made the tumbler move and I trust my sister.

We had great fun the rest of the night. We found the places we'd settle down as grown-ups were as far and away as Netherlands and Germany. Thankfully these were all attractive European countries. Not for us the poverty-ridden Africa or the over-populated Asia. One of us was going to be an ambassador to a foreign country, another a pilot and another one an engineer - nice cushy jobs. The spirit told us we were all going to have 'love’ marriages' (the other option in India is an arranged marriage. I am guessing around 80% of all marriages are 'arranged') with the men we will choose and it even gave us the names of our prospective husbands.

I don't remember about others, but mine started with N, it was a synonym of N's real name but not his exact name (probably a coincidence, 1/26th of a chance for predicting the first letter right, way better than the odds of winning Powerball or getting struck by lightning(1:244,000.) Meeting N was still three years into the future.

At the end of the session we were three satiated teens. The most vexing questions about our futures were resolved. We just had to make sure that we'd go on living and be at the right place at the right time. Since the spirit had already shown us the flight plan of our lives' journeys with exact verbal clues about destinations and people we'd eventually meet, we could engage the auto-pilot, sit back, relax and enjoy the sights.

Fun? Not so much. After a few days we were all struck by the same sad thought, the thrill of anticipating the unknown was gone. I liked Switzerland better than Germany and would have loved to live in a chalet, but now I was stuck with Germany. We hit the Ouija board again to see if the spirit had changed its mind about our tomorrows. This time, sneaky as I was, I tried to interfere with the spirit's answers. I'd concentrate real hard and think up an answer I'd like to get and the tumbler would get confused, it'd make non-sense words. I found that if I was the only person interested in getting a particular answer the so-called spirit would spit it out without any problem. But if my friend or my sister had their mind set on another answer and I was concentrating on a different one, the tumbler would go haywire, flying over the letters. Funny thing was none of us felt we were physically exerting any force on the steel tumbler.

We had few more sessions with different friends. By then, the time required for a spirit to arrive was reduced to 30 minutes or less. I also realized the more eager and less skeptic the participants, the earlier the tumbler would start moving. A veteran of half a dozen Ouija board sessions, by then I was convinced that there was no spirit anywhere near us except the bottle of rubbing alcohol in the cupboard. We or our muscles were making the tumbler move, but our brains refused to register it. I felt it was kind of like self-hypnotism mainly because 'the spirit' was giving us the answers we already had in our minds. A hard-headed skeptic even back then, what I lacked was the right words and / or the intellectual capacity to give a convincing explanation. There was no way I could prove to anyone that it was just us and the ghost world had better security levels than let a bunch of bored teens in just for fun. After sometime like all teenage crazes 'communing with the spirit' craze also found its way out of our busy schedules.

I had to wait for more than a decade to find a satisfactory answer to the phenomenon. Google arrived into our clueless lives at the turn of the century and from then on it has been a journey of enlightenment. On this voyage of information and discovery, the truth about Ouija board was also divulged.

Silly, it is called the Ideomotor Effect. It was quickly recorded and posted away in the Resolved Questions section of the brain, until last week when it resurfaced.

I came across this blog post at Digital Bits Skeptic which explains Ideomotor Effect in detail and how it applies to various paranormal techniques such as Ouija Boards, Dowsing, Table Tipping etc. I realized it was time I came out of my blogging winter and told the world about that summer long past when we had accidentally stumbled upon the truth about life, existence, death and the netherworld, almost.

This is what Digital Bits Skeptic says about Ideomotor Effect (in a nutshell) : "The ideomotor is the mechanism which makes your reflexes kick in when your knee is tapped gently with a doctor’s hammer. But in this case what happens is, due to you focusing so much mental power on something, your body makes it physically happen. You may not think you are doing it, but you are, and the more you are convinced it is going to happen, the faster it happens. Which is why a Ouija board 'works' better for people who use one more often."

It is an interesting post. Please read or listen to it(podcast) if you are interested and have time.

If you can’t get enough of the paranormal, life and life after death, these are some movies that come to my mind on similar subjects (minus ghost movies.)

****Flatliners,
****The Sixth Sense
****Poltergeist
***Final Destination(The whole series)
***21 grams
**What Dreams May Come
And the original B&W Twilight Zone TVseries.

Fading out...for the time being.

A Blog Burnout : Exclusive Live Coverage

Thu, 11 Dec 2008 17:08:39 GMT

Burnout: Physical or emotional exhaustion, especially as a result of long-term stress or dissipation.

Blogs remind me of pets. Some blogs are cats, some are dogs, some are gold fish and some are hamsters. In my mind they are different in almost every way except a few. One, we keep them for companionship. Two, they have a much shorter life span compared to us, humans. Three, you have to feed and nurture them, otherwise they kick the bucket sooner than expected.

A healthy human being might go through a series of pets in her/his life if s/he choose to have them. They die too early for our liking. Same seems to be happening to blogs, the few I’ve known. Mine is awaiting a messiah who specializes in reincarnation and other related digital tricks.

Some of the oldest ‘friended’ journals are still going slow and steady like pet turtles, but that’s pretty much about it. I can feel the old order dying amidst terse tweeting from remote corners.( 12:10pm: I pooped 2:10pm: Chillin' at work ....) There are journals who immigrated to greener pastures, taking permanent citizenship in places where they press word and look pretty. Out of sight, out of mind.

Then there is commenting - the holy activity that ensures a steady stream of the faithful. It has undergone drastic cut-backs. Don’t be fooled by the fuel prices, this is a real energy crisis. I can’t bring myself to tap a few well-meaning lines to fellow journalists(?). A shame, when you consider I do this tapping for a living. But then again a strong anti-social 'charisma' has always been the selling point of this LJ :P

There is no dearth of topics to write on, only an obstinate exhaustion that has come to pervade my days. But one thing is sure everyone loves to witness a burn-out, like the girl in the picture. You might have read thru' this whole post thinking that it has something to do with the blonde. Not really. It's just that there are so many gentlemen in my friends list.

Denali Panos

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 07:44:12 GMT

Nature is the best cure for human haughtiness. Every time I step outside into the real wilderness of Alaska I am reminded of my insignificance, which means I should do that more often. If it was a prescription, once a day would be the right amount, just to reset the arrogance clock back to 00:00.

One of the best places to humble yourself infront of the magnificence of nature is Denali National Park - 24,585 sq.kms of pure unspoilt back country. Home to bears, caribou, moose and North America's tallest Peak - Denali or Mt.McKinley, it begs for the widest of wide angle lenses. Otherwise you'll have to bring your 'other' lenses, the ones behind your pupils.

How can I convey to others the wide screen splendor of Denali without a wide angle lens? The answer is, cultivate good friends, the kind who'll let you borrow their tripod on a weekend for no charge. And voila, your lowly kit lens could be used to shoot panoramas that might motivate people to visit Alaska, bolster the State's economy, thereby single-handedly administer CPR to the ailing airline industry, make Chinese banks restart lending to Americans,...haa I believe in the power of dreams(dollar is sinking anyway) and panos.

(Please click on the pictures to see the real images which again have been reduced 30% from the original.)

The pics above and below this paragraph were taken from Grand Denali Lodge where we stayed overnight. We had a wonderful view from our room similar to the one below, thanks to an end of season Alaskan Resident deal. What you see in these pictures is the main lodging/dining hub in the national park area, with Parks Highway winding north and Nenana river and the low mountains of the Alaska Range in the background.

This is at Polychrome pass inside Denali National Park at Mile 45. Only the first 15 miles of road inside the Park is accessible to private vehicles. There are shuttle buses and tour buses(not the big AC juggernauts, but revamped school buses) that take tourists in to the Park. p.s- Never shoot at the sun or your photo will end up looking like this.

On the Parks highway, traveling south from Denali to Cantwell, a wonderful stretch of red, an area favored by migratory swans. There is one in the pic, an almost invisible white dot on water.

Toklat River, a braided glacial river at Mile 53. There is another picture of Toklat river I took in 2005 (last one in this page), shows how the river changes its course every now and then. It flows much closer to the banks these days.

This one is from the Denali Highway, the subject of my last post. Hunters, moose and mosquitoes abound in these parts.

This post is sponsored by Photoshop CS3. As far as stitching panoramas goes, CS3 shows a world of improvement over CS2. I was fighting a losing battle with CS2 till I realized that I could get a trial version of CS3(now maybe even CS4), which turned out to be so intelligent that with a little modification it might do laparoscopic surgery by itself.

Denali Highway

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 01:24:16 GMT

Denali Highway is the Route 66 of Alaska. Once the main thoroughfare through the untamed wilderness of Alaska, now virtually abandoned to hunters and wild-game after the new highways replaced it in the early seventies. Currently it is a gravelly pot-holed 135 mile road from Paxson to Cantwell, traveled by a few. It is closed(you can still travel, but at your own risk) from Oct 1 to mid-may.

An 'Alaskan' pond. On the Denali Highway somewhere near Cantwell
This is not the most scenic part of the Denali Highway, it is just one of the numerous lakes/ponds that dot either sides of the highway. It just happened to catch my eye on one of our rest stops on the way. It is a beautiful road, a piece of real Alaska you can experience on four wheels, if you trust your wheels.

(Click here for a detailed mile by mile description of Points of Interest along the Denali highway. Not many guide books cover this road.)

Deep Sea Fishing in Alaska

Tue, 22 Jul 2008 06:43:56 GMT

If you could visit only one place in Alaska I'd suggest Homer in summer. It is not the guide-book or the celluloid Alaska that many are familiar with or expect to see. It is not noted for its In-to-the-Wild hostile tundra that would coldly snuff out McCandlesses. It is too warm for polar bears except those made in China and found in curio shops. It doesn't have enough magnetism to charm some Aurora Borealis(s) it's way. A winsome little fishing town pointing its geographical finger into the waters of Kachemak Bay, the only claim Homer makes is as 'the halibut fishing capital of the world'.

I have been smitten with Homer ever since I visited the first time. Please click here to read an account of the trip we made in 2004, serves as a good Homer primer if you are interested. Last weekend we ticked off one of the must-do-Alaskan things, fishing for Halibut in the high seas. Before you dismiss it as 'Bah, fishing!' let me tell you I am not a fishing enthusiast either. I have fished for salmon before and didn't find much pleasure in donning the waders and communing with a fishing rod for the better part of the day with zero results. Unless there is a salmon run(which is like Kumb Mela or the Carnival in Rio of the salmon kind) there is no guarantee that the rare masochistic salmon will choose your novice rod to impale itself upon. Unlike that, halibut fishing is a highly rewarding experience, it looks like no one returns empty handed from a halibut charter. If you have a heart strong enough to handle a few dead fish and bandwidth to justify your bravado,

Deckhand Tim readying the rod and the hook.

Leaving the harbor: Started early morning at 6:30 from Homer boat harbor, that's around the time all halibut charters take off. It's usually a full day trip. Reminder: Sun rises at 4am and sets around 11pm in Alaska in summer, day is as long as you want to make it.

Overcast morning: Weather plays a major part in your future as a fisherman/woman. When we left the harbor with our friends' family(four generations in one boat), the sky was overcast. We had braced ourselves up for a zero-success day only to be reassured by our captain(all of 22, with 6 years of sea-faring in his resume) that cloudy days are the best for deep sea fishing

The Boat: The boat which took us could conveniently hold 12 passengers in addition to the captain and the deckhand. There is a toilet incase you are not into exhibitionist behavior. It took us about 30 miles(apprx. 60kms) in to the ocean to the fertile Halibut breeding grounds.Halibut is a bottom feeding species, usually your line goes down about 150m into water before it can hook up with any potential catch.

Hooking the Bait: The bait they usually use is frozen store bought herring, thawed before use. Sometime salmon heads are also used, although it didn't land us any more fish than the herring did.

Ready to Reel in: Everyone standing in position with their rods. I don't have many fishing-in-action pics since we were all fishing really seriously. Seriously!

Except this one: which was taken to prove a point- Halibut Fishing 101: An extremely relaxing experience. You put your rod thru' the holder(there are many on the railing of the boat, choose yours), stand back, can even go inside, play a game of poker or down a keg of beer and ponder on the immensity of the universe(easy when you are in the open ocean with nothing but the merging blues of ocean and skies.) Check for any action on the rod - a twitch or a persistent pull(eyes would suffice, don't even need to touch the rod with your hands for this preliminary investigation.) If there is a suspect on the hook, slowly reel it in.The fish is not going to go anywhere, make sure you don't (go overboard that is.)

That is my rod at rest: Waters were glacially calm. If it is a sunny day, the fisher-wisdom says that sea is rougher, you'll be more prone to sea sickness and will not be able to catch many fish. So what is good for us is not good for the fishermen.

The catch: The women in our group (3 #s) turned out to be more prolific fisher'men' than the men themselves. Nine of us together caught around 40 fish, of which we kept the biggest 18 because Alaska Fishing License Rules set the number of halibut caught per person per day should be two or less. We kept the ones which were around 30-40 lbs, the smaller lucky ones returned to the ocean to have one more go at life.

Fillet o'Fish: Tim, the deckhand set about filleting the fish soon after he cleaned and put away the fishing rods. The kid(he goes to college somewhere in the lower 48) had been slogging all the while when were having fun.

Slimy jobs: Alaska tourism and fisheries industry employ a lot of college kids who summer in Alaska with paid jobs like these. Hillary Clinton, during her Presidential primary made a fond mention of Alaska, that her crappiest job ever was sliming fish in a cannery in Valdez,Alaska as a college student on a summer job.

The 'Wasted' Throw: The halibut is cut into two long fillets per side and the rest of it is thrown away. I do not know whether it is my third-world mentality, it pains to see so much fish go to waste. Looked to me like you could feed a family for a week from just the remains of one fish wasted this way.

Gull Island: On the way back we went to Gull Island seabird rookery. A great big colony of seabirds of all sizes and ages, cackling beyond known decibel levels and god forbid, the wind blows your away, the smell of guano can knock you dead in seconds. All that said, it is great that the birds are having the time of their lives, except for occasional trespasses by a few pestering research biologists, tourists and kayakers.

Sun shiny day: The skies had cleared up when we reached back Homer harbor in the afternoon. This picture was taken at the same spot as the third pic.Of the four we were entitled to (between the two of us) we took one fish home that day, all the others were packed off to the be flash-frozen and later shipped to us. The smallest of the fish made way to our oven below.

Lock's Meme

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 01:18:30 GMT

locks tagged me a while back.

Last movie you saw in a theater

What book are you reading

Favorite board game

Have never been on any board to play games. I don't look good in formals, nor do I have the bucks to buy my way in. (btw do people still play board games, get a (second)life atleast.)

Favorite smells

Om-boy, Monsoon on scorched earth, Coffee with jaggery made on earthen stove(preferably out in the open) burning twigs, Smell of shadows in cashew groves on lazy summer afternoons...

Favorite sound

Om calling Ammiyaa

Worst feeling in the world

That triggered by ill-health/disease of near and dear ones.

What is the first thing you think of when you wake up

Weekdays: All thinking suspended till after the first cup of hot cocoa.
Weekends: No thinking at all on weekends.

Favorite fast food place

My kitchen (OST: That NC17 Black Eyed Peas song "Whatcha gonna do with all that junk All that junk inside your ~~trunk~~kitchen", Eat it.)

Future child's name

Moon Unit & Moxie Crimefighter are already taken. Future will wait till I think up something to trump those two.

Finish this statement. "If I had a lot of money, I'd...."

...guarantee that it’d not be given away to charity or poor people. Nor would it be wasted to promote world peace. Instead all the money would go to the most needy of them all - our ailing economy.

Do you drive fast -

Probably yes, except in neighborhoods with little people under 4ft.

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal -

No. Except after Thanksgiving dinner

Storms - Cool or scary -

Chalta hai. Nature too has to let off her steam some time.

What was your first car

The first car I drove was in India - My father's Fiat. The first one I owned was/is here, a Chevy S10 truck.

Favorite drink

Any fluid with a minimum percentage of hydroxyl derivatives bound to carbon atoms works for me.

Finish this statement. "If I had the time, I would..."

...be older! No way, peddle time somewhere else.

Do you eat the stems on broccoli?

You mean the trunks on that thing, that'd require a logging permit!

If you could dye your hair any color, what would be your choice?

(Facial)Hair to burnt rustic brown (to match my face-color.)

Name all the different cities/towns you have lived in -

Thiruvananthapuram, Bangalore, Ahmedabad, Delhi, San Francisco and Anchorage. To compete with arunshanbag I am thinking to include all the places where I had transit stopovers for more than 10 minutes.

Favorite sports to watch:

Politics, currently watching The World Series(That's how it is called when you have only teams from the US competing.)

One nice thing about the person who sent this to you

Her vivacity, her nurturing spirit, her usericon,...

What's under your bed?

Carbon – products and bye-products and some dissected dreams.

Would you like to be born as yourself again?

If everyone who ever lived is getting a re-run, I'd like that to be multiple choice. Else, I'll take me.

Morning person or night owl

Starts off as a night owl and ends up being a morning person, happens when your most active hours are 11pm-4am in the land of midnight sun in summer.

Over easy or sunny side up :

Eggs? I'd like to keep a few of mine frozen :P

Favorite place to relax:

The other side of sleep.

Favorite pie:

I.M.Pei(his parents were Chinese thus the spelling mistake.)

Favorite ice cream flavor -

Milma (a brand from my childhood, came exclusively in vanilla flavor, more froth than cream.)

Of all the people you tagged this to, who is most likely to respond first?

...probably the one who is going to see a windfall of good luck in the coming months ;-)

Tagging deelight, hariputtar, jayasankarvs, shri, tko_ak, vinjk and the only blogger I met in blogland after being friends with her in real life - Anamika

Bar on a Mountain

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 16:28:57 GMT

Winter in April

Sun, 27 Apr 2008 07:09:29 GMT

Muffins, Photo-editing sites, Web Services and so on

Tue, 01 Apr 2008 18:12:56 GMT

Ten years ago I didn't know such a thing as muffin existed. I had come across a different type of muffin, which was called Ragamuffin on the jacket of an Enid Blyton book. But that was about it.

Then one fine morning, muffin was discovered as a cure to fruits. Fruits, by nature gooey and slimey, could be easily hidden inside folds of butter, flour, sugar and cream and passed off as delectable non-fruits. In a world where fruit flies like a banana and time flies like an arrow the only way to keep fruit flies away and finish off bananas before they darken their faces is to make muffins with them. Fruits during the fag end of stay in my fridge(Day 4 or Day 5) often end up in muffins, like the blueberries in the photo below.

Talking of photos, it's been ages since I explored photobucket or flickr. Was pleasantly surprised to see the presence of lot of editing features. Looks like these sites have released the ordinary user off the grips of copyrighted pricey image-editing software. Fun to play around with(as you can see I went overboard with these two) and if the final destination of your photos is the web, photobucket or flickr now have pretty much all the editing power you need. They say it is all about web services and the advent of Web 3.0?!!

Since everyone is offering some kind of web service as an anti-dote to their other ills, I hope you'd overlook this mish-mash post after taking the Quick n Painless Enneagram test. It's supposedly scarily accurate about yourself, ofcourse you could always use a mirror for the same results. But go ahead, click the link, it is interesting and only two questions lie between you and the revelation!

...from dj_bennyb's blog

Link: The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Test written by felk

you chose BZ - your Enneagram type is FIVE (aka "The Thinker").
"I need to understand the world"
Observers have a need for knowledge and are introverted, curious, analytical,and insightful.

How to Get Along with Me

Be independent, not clingy.

Speak in a straightforward and brief manner.

I need time alone to process my feelings and thoughts.

Remember that If I seem aloof, distant, or arrogant, it may be that
I am feeling uncomfortable.

Make me feel welcome, but not too intensely, or I might doubt your
sincerity.

If I become irritated when I have to repeat things, it may be because
it was such an effort to get my thoughts out in the first place.

don't come on like a bulldozer.

Help me to avoid my pet peeves: big parties, other people's loud music,
overdone emotions, and intrusions on my privacy.

What I Like About Being a FIVE

standing back and viewing life objectively

coming to a thorough understanding; perceiving causes and effects

my sense of integrity: doing what I think is right and not being influenced by social pressure

not being caught up in material possessions and status

being calm in a crisis

what Wikipedia says about your type...

One Night @ The Call Centre

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 16:23:58 GMT

Note: The views and opinions expressed in this page are strictly those of the author. The contents of this page have not been reviewed or approved by the general public. Now read on.

When you are past thirty you have to ‘read books’ to know what is hip. Your fad sensors are past their usefulness or are oriented in a totally wrong direction. That was one of the reasons I picked up Chetan Bhagat’s book One Night @ The Call Centre on my last India trip, more than a year ago.

Call Center was a hitherto unpredicted socio-economic phenomenon. It escaped the heavily prophetic eye of Indian astrology. Most of the Indian horoscopes made 20-30 years ago failed to mention it as a career possibility, in the same way they ignored computer-programming. Yet thirty years hence more than half of urban India find themselves mysteriously morphed into programmers or call center employees. Call centers became the great levelers – giving the non-professional(-degreed?) youth the same take-home salary and dignity as their professional brethren, not to mention an American alias. Thus in the dead of the night (of Indian kind) when some become werewolves and others Mr.Hydes, Jaydeep Menons become Jake Murphies with questionable Texan accent.

I had crossed over to the forbidden territory (read America) when the first wave of calls reached India and had missed out on the whole hoopla. I left an India where people dragged around cell phones the size of microwave ovens to show they were ultra rich or uber cool. Today if I saw someone in a street corner in Delhi talking to himself, I’d probably rule out insanity and instead put the blame on an embedded micro Bluetooth cochlear implant.

One Night @ the Call Centre was bought as a one-stop shop for all my queries regarding call-centers, youth and pop-culture in the present day India. It starts out promisingly, providing me with the answers I have been looking for in simple English. I almost recommended this book to some of my American friends, till I came across some inflammatory anti-American talk.

You see, anti-American rhetoric is one of the easier ways to stay true to our socialistic roots. The US govt’s foreign policy tactics provides the shot in the arm whenever anti-american lobby looks like they are losing steam (that is another story.)

Who in their right minds have not bitched about their bosses? For the call center kids, their top boss is some guy(s) sitting in an office in Boston or LA running the big company that has transferred its call operations to India. If you are capable of looking at big picture, the boss is the US of A. But this logic is kind of hard to understand when you hear someone else blaming your country (your country = USA.) People take personal offence reading a few lines in a book of fiction, remember Khomeini’s fatwa on Salman Rushdie. My American friends are better of reading the exotic yet non-toxic Indian prose like Jhumpa Lahiri’s. Probably 'One Night...' is not a wise choice for a book recommendation.

The story gets pretty filmy towards the end – with emotions running high and omnipotent invisible beings making their presence felt - the kind favored in churches, mosques and temples. This book is sure to pass the Bollywood test. It has it all, the right mix of guys and girls in an urban setting (lots of foot-stomping songs), high drama, jingoism with power packed patriotic dialogs for instant gallery response (Sunny Deol is too old for the part though unless it is his home production.) In the hands of a good director, it has the no-fail formula for a Bollywood hit. We will have to see what Atul Agnihotri will cook up (The movie has been named Hello). Coming to the theaters near you this March it says.

Review: Easy breezy desi

Chocolate: A Behind the Scenes Look

Fri, 15 Feb 2008 00:35:53 GMT

Scary dreams are no strangers to kids.I too had my share. One particulary scary one was where I hated chocolates and banished all those sweet nothings from my sight. Then I'd wake up and be relieved to find that I still liked Dairy Milk and Five Star. It was beyond my comprehension how our parents could forego chocolates and let us kids gorge the brown goo to our hearts' content. But somewhere during the journey from the brimming cup of childhood to the thin restrained lip of adulthood, the dream became true. There are atleast two tins of molding chocolates in the pantry that I know of (and I don't know much when it comes to my own pantry) so there is probably more.

Two decades ago we were almost at the threshold of inhouse chocolate manufacture. Maybe it was in the seventies or in the eighties, a golden plant purported to give whopping economic returns was unveiled to the small farmer in Kerala. The plant was cocoa, our target was to become the Switzerland of Asia. We had the mountains, the valleys and the cheaper knock(ed)-off watches, the cocoa would take care of the rest and make us all Swiss Misses(and men could become watchmakers if they wanted.)

We didn't hesitate, despite being city dwellers we nursed grand green ambitions of farming in our backyard - the size of a handkerchief. Six or seven cocoa plants accepted our invitation and decided to call our modular(read space constrained) yard their home. They had good growing seasons, were low maintanence and produced fruits which bore no resemblance to chocolate. Althought we didn't know it then, it was a time when the world was in dire need of Our patron saint of searches- Google, whose coming was still more than a decade into the future. Otherwise we could've found this site and learnt the art of turning raw cocoa beans into chocolate slabs from someone living in a desert in Southern California and put an end to all our tribulations.

Elsewhere the real farmers who ventured out in to cocoa farming sacrificing their coconut plantations and tapioca plots were also hit a similar desperation, but on a larger scale. The cocoa fruit had no takers and the market was flooded with supply. For most of the cocoa-convert farmers it took years for a full recovery. Our backyard was enriched with ripened but purposeless cocoa fruits for ages before the plants became trees and succumbed to death due to natural causes, dust to dust.

Today, a day when for a few moments world trades in chocolates and roses, a dedication to one of the plants which makes it all possible(the other one is featured in a songs by Poison, Seal, Bette Midler etc etc - thereby quite famous and has thorns, not wasting my time there.)

cocoa tree

cocoa fruits

(p.s-These are not photos I took, the images might be copyrighted by someone else, if it's yours let me know.)

To Hell in A Hand Basket or To Alaska?

Mon, 28 Jan 2008 20:01:51 GMT

The four horse men are taking a time out, they are not going to come and get us, but the Apocalypse is still on schedule. Are you ready for it? What are the essential items you should have in your survival kit? Read the next sentence uttered by the modern prophetess Naomi Klein and check the things you have.
"Me and my friends are going to be fine. We have SUVs, we have generators, we have air- conditioners, we have bottled water and we bought land in Alaska." Five out of five and you should be fine.

A ski resort sells for 90 cents. Boys are disappearing from native communities in the Arctic. Here in Anchorage we had rains in January instead of that fluffy white stuff that used to fall. Same story on the other side of the ocean . Rivers break open in the middle of winter in the high arctic. Yeah yeah yeah, you know all that(pfftt...anecdotal evidence) and you are still voting for Michael Crichton.

Every generation has its treasured doomsday predictions and blames itself for having squandered the earth beyond repair. Are we just one in a long line of generations who have been forecasting our planet's cursed ride to hell in a hand basket? Or is it for real this time?

Forget global warming, take the population. The earth is supposedly 80 years old in human years. An attack of a strain of flu virus which could take a week to clear out for a 20 year old person might prove fatal for an eighty year old(Not my concept heard it from some scientist, forgot his name.) This time the virus under the microscope is us – the humans.

The human population was 978 million in 1800. All that population explosion ever since Adam's incident with the apple or the ape-man evolution (whichever one you prefer) had only been able to produce ~1 billion people by A.D.1800. By 2000, a mere 200 years hence we multiplied almost 6 times to almost 6 billion, thanks to progress(which is not a bad thing, but the population is.) Just between earth's 79th birthday and 80th birthday, the virus count increased by 5 billion. The newer strain is more polluting, venomous and uncontrollable than the previous one. Such high counts are enough to kill anyone in a jiffy. How much longer will this 80 year old earth survive and how long is a jiffy?

While top scientists around the globe race to calculate the length of the jiffy to the nth decimal you can read some inspirational literature. Especially if you want to be one of the privileged few who will ride out in to a brand new sunrise when everyone around you is being mercilessly wiped out, thanks to their own actions. Your inspirational literature of the day is sponsored by the prophetic Naomi Klein(again.)

"We are looking at a system of climate apartheid. The waters are rising. Some people are going to be left to drown - a lot of people. But there will be people who'll be able to drive out, not everyone would die and those people will build their global green zone, where - Alaska? But this isn't a joke. The land in the Alaska is getting more expensive. And I think that is clearly the direction we are going. I'd not say human extinction. But it is going to be a genocidal logic, I suppose the survival of the fittest but more what it is about is, me and my friends are going to be fine, we have SUVs, we have generators, we have ACs,we have bottled water and we bought land in alaska....."

-Naomi Klein

In these times of tumbling real estate and unstable markets the only hope is to drive North to the Future. There is more inspirational literature about the last place on earth(if you want to survive that is) plus an old uplifting photo from my archives. Here goes,

"Alaska, come because of the scenery, stay because you're f#*king lost."
"Alaska, nobody you know lives here."
"Alaska, it's goddamn cold."

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 04:00:02 GMT

Suggestions on Lens

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 00:04:31 GMT

All people who own DSLRs(Canon or Nikon), what is your walk-around lens and/or what is your favorite lens? TIA.

Improve Your Presidential Candidates GK

Mon, 24 Dec 2007 21:07:41 GMT

From Associated Press, some of the most important snippets of information about the 2008 Presidential Candidates. Probably this'll be more influential than the Presidential Diabetes, Iowa Couscous or New Hampshire Pilaf.

DEMOCRATS	REPUBLICANS
ALTERNATE CAREER CHOICE Clinton: "Continue to work for causes and issues I care about, in a setting like a university or foundation." Edwards: Mill supervisor. Obama: Architect. Richardson: Center field, New York Yankees.	ALTERNATE CAREER CHOICE Giuliani: Sports announcer. Huckabee: Bass guitar player for a touring rock band. McCain: Foreign service. Romney: Auto company chief executive.
FAVORITE FOOD TO COOK Clinton: "I'm a lousy cook, but I make pretty good soft scrambled eggs." Edwards: Hamburgers. Obama: Chili. Richardson: Diet milkshake.	FAVORITE FOOD TO COOK Giuliani: Hamburgers or steak on the grill. Huckabee: Ribeye steak on the grill. McCain: Baby-back ribs. Romney: Hot dog.
HIDDEN TALENT Clinton: "I love crossword puzzles." Edwards: "Jump shot." Obama: "I'm a pretty good poker player." Richardson: "Boxing trivia."	HIDDEN TALENT Giuliani: "Listening." Huckabee: "Voice impersonations of dozens of celebrities." McCain: "Barbecue grill chef." Romney: "Singing."
RECENT MUSIC PURCHASE Clinton: Carly Simon's "Into White." Edwards: U2. Obama: "The latest music purchase would probably be 'Ray' - the soundtrack from the Ray Charles movie." Richardson: George Strait, "50 Number Ones	RECENT MUSIC PURCHASE Giuliani: Verdi's "Macbeth." Huckabee: Evanescence, the goth rock group from Little Rock, Ark. McCain: Likes "Sounds Of Summer - The Very Best Of The Beach Boys." Romney: "Selection of Roy Orbison songs from iTunes."

There is more where it came from.

Gift Ideas

Fri, 21 Dec 2007 17:19:19 GMT

The Americans are spending and the Asians are saving. This is not a trend, but a natural law, hard-coded in to the genes as the epicanthal fold or 'God Bless America'. Today I heard a British economist utter the unthinkable - that this 'trend'(!) should change and Americans should do more manufacturing themselves. The radio followed this up with a timely warning to all listeners that they have only a few more gift-buying days left. This can only mean one thing, that the gift buying catastrophe color-level has been upped a point to iphone deep- red, which is a very dangerous place to be, other than California. There is not much left time to shop, let alone manufacture gifts in your garage.

Some catalog companies have been cashing in on this human weakness of all U.S Americans ever since the days USPS was founded and have been coming out with the gifts that really appeal to the people of the New World . I find my eyes moisten with gratitude as I present a few 'can't-do-without' items from one such gift-brochure that make a beeline for mailboxes come December.

Rotating marsh mallow toaster: Move over modified wire hanger, this is the super gadget that marsh mallows have been waiting to be impaled upon and to be taken for a spin while they are getting roasted. For the happy camper or the barbecue chef it cuts the labor involved in roasting marsh mallows by 83.6% percent. This might be a devastating news for those who have been scheming on getting a 'Disabled' license using the disfigurement of their hands caused by s'mores manufacturing as an excuse, but for the rest of us and the bling gang it is a heaven-send just like the

Jeweled Cellphone Holder with Crystals: In cellphone community, this has to be the penthouse coveted by all cellphones, JLo's private suite. The sales are predicted to sky rocket in the hip hop music world where they have run out of teeth, belly buttons, purses and pets where they can put their bling on. Talking of bling and rappers, Fiddy Cent has decided to take on the Big Os(Oprah and Obama) declaring his support to Our Lady of the Nutcrackers, which comes next.

The manufacturer of Hillary Clinton Nutcracker guarantees that Ms.Clinton's stainless steel upper legs are studded with steel teeth that'll will crack nuts fast and easy(bet her opponents didn't know about this genetic anomaly of hers) and should be kept away from children under 12 years of age. If the lady wins the elections next year this'd be a fitting nome-de-plume for her, considering all the rival Presidential candidates are men.

One'd think this next item in the list should be given to not so vociferous people, but not so according to the manufacturers. It is an excellent gift for men whose existence began on the day they were dropped on to the fertile topsoil of their couches and have thrived there ever since.Considering their farthest transcontinental excursions have been to the refrigerator door, the Beer Mug with a Bell is almost like the second coming of The Dude or something.

Here's the manufacturer's ad for Beer Mug with a Bell, "Remember the last time you were sitting in front of the TV watching a game and you picked up your beer bottle, only to find it empty? You politely ask your wife/girlfriend to please bring you a beer and she pretends not to hear you. You graciously ask again in a little louder voice. Again, no response. Now, you're thirsty and tired of yelling and yelling so you decide to phrase it a little differently in a little louder voice. This time she hears you and all hell let's loose. She yells back some unprintable comment and the fight is on!
Now, we can save all that drama. Ring the bell and she will hear the sound and know that she needs to get up and get a beer for you. No more yelling and arguing, just a cold beer for the man of the house. Wasn't that a lot simpler? Save your marriage - buy a Beer Mug with Bell."

Couldn't have put it better. A must buy gift for all your friends in doomed marriages or rather, get this for all the married men you know and do not have deaf spouses.

You are welcome to add to this list of essential Christmas gifts with your own choice picks and the inventions we could not have done with out. Hail the creativity that accompanies Christmas!

Louis Vuitton Presents: Mikhail Gorbachev

Tue, 13 Nov 2007 21:41:45 GMT

If all the newspaper images that affected my childhood could be condensed to the most memorable few, it'd be just a handful. Among them will be – Kapil Dev's victorious grin holding the Prudential Cup, Rakesh Sharma floating inside the Russian space craft and the duo who were competing to occupy the driver's seat of the world at the time – Gorbachev and Reagan - sitting, standing, signing, discussing at numerous conferences and summits, with or without Raisa and Nancy at their sides.

While Kapil's and Rakesh Sharma's achievements were the stuff dreams were made off, Reagan with his Star Wars, laser defense systems and MAD gave me nightmares. India's socialistic leanings and the Russian patronization we've been receiving ever since Nehru got infatuated with the largest European country that worshiped the hammer and the sickle only fueled my worries. I was certain Reagan would do target practice of his missiles on India before taking on the real enemy. So much for being the sidekick of the Reds. The eight year old me admired my parents' knack to be preoccupied with more prosaic stuff as housing loans and price rises and remain utterly unperturbed by the evil guy in the white house hatching plans to annihilate the whole universe. Atleast there was someone in the family who was doing the worry duty and they didn't even thank me.

Gorbachev and his birthmark were my heroes at the time. Glasnost and Perestroika were useful concepts I had been advocating to my parents who were absolute dictators like the Commies Gorby was trying to preach sense to. Only that in Russian these concepts sounded weighty and people sat down and took note of them. To this day I believe that Gorby and Scorpions have a 50-50 share in bringing the Wind of change, which brings me to the purpose of today’s history rant.

After what seems like a lifetime I saw Gorby again this morning, in the most unlikeliest of all places – in a Louis Vuitton ad! (Yes I am late, news arrives late when you have to rely on sled dogs.)

It is not the first time Gorbachev did "I am in your capitalism eating your moneys" thing. He had done a Pizza Hut ad in the late nineties. Can’t blame the man, from his looks in this newest ad he could seriously use some moneys. The former President of USSR is pictured(taken by Annie Leibovitz) as traveling in a limo, the backdrop is what is left of the Berlin wall and beside him on the seat is a Louis Vuitton bag. There is a newspaper of some sort in Russian on top of the bag, which has given rise to plenty of conspiracy theories, I’ll leave you to make up your own. Meanwhile I express sincere thanks to Louis Vuitton for bringing one of the most important historical figures of our time to a magazine page near me. Long time, no see comrade :)

Race for Ice Begins flagged off by Media Celebrity, Ms.Global Warming

Fri, 19 Oct 2007 22:06:38 GMT

Thanks to Global Warming, the Arctic is up for auction and a major increase in action in the years to come. The famed North-West passage could be a bustling trade route anytime now. Chinese are already making all the Dutch pottery(Delftware). The tradition that started in Denmark in 17th century to so that they could compete with Chinese pottery. The battle has come a full circle, the Chinese have won(again!) and they need the North-West Passage for sending all that burnt clay from Asia to Scandinavia. So do the Americans and the Russians (and the Canadians in smaller font.)
The North West Passage

The North-West Passage and the Arctic Ice cap are not going to be in the hands of walrus and seal hunters or the occasional marine reseach crew for long. The warming of Northern Oceans have led to longer ice-free periods in summer leading to traffic commotion and more importantly revealing the hitherto hidden, lucrative undersea deposits of oil and gas. Where there is oil, there is a war(the smoke and fire analogy is so outdated.) and the war has begun.

The Russians came first. Fifty years and fresh from a surprise win seized by Sputnik later, they made it good for the moon-landing setback by planting a tricolor Russian flag made of titanium, three miles below the polar ice cap on the yellow mucky sea-floor in Aug this year. Looks like they've more restrained territorial ambitions this time around, nothing as far and away as the moon, just a chunk of ice, closer home. But they are serious, as Mr. Chilingarov, Russia's most famous Arctic explorer and a deputy speaker of parliament, made clear before flag 'submersion' ceremony, that the effort is not just about expanding the horizons of science. "We are here to define the outer limit of Russia's territory," he said.

A month before that in July, the US had announced that it would be increasing its ability to patrol the Arctic. What is there to patrol if Russians make off, right under the American noses, with all that petrol ? Looks like Americans thought about this same question long and hard and decided to send a team of oceanographers aboard the Coastguard ship Healy. They came back in September this year armed with sonar studies which found hints that thousands of square miles of additional seafloor could potentially be under American control. The floor might yield important deposits of oil, gas or minerals in coming decades. Royal Dutch Shell is preparing for exploratory oil drilling off Alaska's Arctic coast beginning next year. The Coast Guard is going to set up its first operating base on Arctic Ocean in the US's northern most town - Barrow, Alaska.

Coastguard vessel Healy in the Arctic (Photo by Dave Withrow/United States Coast Guard, via Associated Press)

Canada, which has the second-longest Arctic coastline, is currently conducting a $70 million project to map the seabed on its side as a prelude to making its own submission to the UN. Other competitors include Norway and Denmark(because of their claim on Greenland.)

How do you decide how much sea your country owns? The 1982 Law of the Sea Convention establishes a 12-mile offshore territorial limit for each country, plus a 200-mile "economic zone" in which it has exclusive rights.(US Congress is yet to ratify the treaty which is why American are suffering a slow pace in this race.) Under the treaty, countries have a small menu of benchmarks they can choose from to make a bid for extending their jurisdictions beyond 200 miles. They can use the foot of the slope leading from the top of the continental shelf to the deep-seafloor. They can use an imaginary line along the slope at a depth of 8,250 feet. Or they can pick a spot where the depth of the muck on the deep-sea bottom is 1 percent of the distance between that point and the foot of the continental shelf. Countries can pick the approach that gives them the most leverage.

It is evident from the unfolding drama that some major changes will take place in the geopolitical climate of the world in the future. Eskimos will be the next Arabs, Middle East will shift to North Pole, directional North sign will be elimnated because all the world will lie South of the action (the North Pole), Polar bears will meet penguins for the first time when they both apply for refugee status at Galapagos, frozen dihydrogen monoxide will be a major building material - fit for kings(as marble used to be) and ice sculptors would be in great demand, whale blubber will replace caviar(same difference), but there still would be no hope to poor people - they will remain poor.

Woodside Park

Fri, 28 Sep 2007 04:11:07 GMT

A few photos from the park next door - Woodside Park(Eastchester). Alaskan fall is predominantly yellow(I remember tko_ak mentioning that) and its slight variations. Not many flaming orange trees here.

35 Plus

Thu, 20 Sep 2007 17:33:00 GMT

An observation: The most active journals in LJ belong to the 35+ age group. This could mean a couple of things, like people are not updating their journals regularly so that they can pass off as young. Remember those London ladies who caught Oscar Wilde's roving yet discerning eye, the same trick.

It could also mean that those who missed the social networking bus run by famed operators such as MySpace, Facebook, Orkut, Friendster or deliberately refrained from using such public transportation facilities on the internet still insist on driving the rickety old LJ VW Van. Furthermore they type in cursive and think that SMS is some kind of female disorder.

As for me, I've bought in to the carbon offsetting scam and has stopped typing altogether. Ending emissions and saving the world, one journal entry at a time.

Final Exam

Fri, 24 Aug 2007 10:26:09 GMT

I write this in the faint gleam of the night lamp well past midnight because tomorrow life will take over with more current things, stuff that need to be taken care of, like that telephone bill that has to be paid before the end of the month.

Tomorrow like everyone else still walking, talking and eating on this planet I'll deny death, shut my eyes on its existence in the bold brightness of mid-day sun.

Tonight for two and a half hours when the world around me was asleep I walked through the valley in the shadow of death, in the company of someone who has faced it hundreds of times in her working life.

From Pauline W.Chen - Harvard trained surgeon, a UCLA award recipient for the best surgeon of the year and the winner of several national awards for non-fiction and creative writing comes the revealing and thoughtful book - Final Exam: A Surgeon's Reflections on Mortality.

Tomorrow I might not write this at all.

Tonight I hold my loves a little closer, a little more tighter....