Driven

It was a tough decision, but one that he had to make, and make today. Since his decision would have an effect on a large number of brands, he wanted to be careful while he made it. As he was test driving his new car, he remembered how he had gotten into the world of Formula 1 a few years back, thanks a whole lot to a certain Italian manufacturer and their charismatic main driver, the man who went by the name of Michael Schumacher.

These days, Ferrari was not doing too well, and a lot of people might think that he was chickening out because the going had gotten tough. And truth be said, it was getting embarassing to be associated with Ferrari these days. But his decision had nothing to do with this. Marlboro, Vodafone, Fedex, Bridgestone, Shell - these were some of the brands that he carried- all because of his association with Ferrari, and he was getting tired of it.

It was too much of a weight to carry around. It was a tough decision because he had been with Ferrari for so long that he did not like the thought of not being associated with them at all. And the lack of association would not come alone - with it also would come a change in lifestyle, a face without the shield of Formula 1 paraphernalia and it might also mean a weakening of the bond with the legion of Formula 1 fans.

He finished his test drive, and made the decision. He was buying the car, and since he would no longer be driving his two wheeler around, the Ferrari model helmet he used to proudly wear around would no longer be needed, and with it would go all the brands that found place in it... A tough decision, but a necessary one...Perhaps it was good this way, he would make do with a Ferrari car sticker and although it wasnt quite the same, this time it would be without the other brands....
until next time, how was the ride?

Unreasoning

The day was over, and he could go home, he thought happily. He checked his planner for the last time, to make sure that he hadnt left anything incomplete... he also reviewed the decisions he had made that day.. he was a meticulous man, who could coldly analyse facts and figures and arrived upon conclusions based on usually unerring logic.. but wait, he wasnt any inhuman monster, on the contrary, he had the right amount of humanity and compassion in him that made him a just and fair man... almost perfect...

but just as he got out of his office, his happiness vanished, for he saw the rain pouring down, and since the city planners hadnt planned enough, traffic snarls all around... this was the third day in a row that he was having to go through this, and he was irritated..the journey home, that normally took only a half an hour would once again be stretched to almost two hours...as his car waded through the traffic, he fondly remembered the days when he could zoom on this very road..

and as though God had heard him, almost miraculously, the traffic began to clear, and pretty soon, he could indeed go fast.. as he was cruising along, gradually picking up speed, he noticed an old woman quite a distance ahead, standing on the edge of the street, selling flowers to passers by, who, today, were more interested in getting to their respective homes before the next shower hit..he wondered how her life must be, having to go through this day after day, in her old age...

unknown to him, she had two grandchildren to raise.. the children's parents had died, leaving her to take care of the kids, who had just started going to school.. between what their grandmother earned, and what they got from doing errands after school, they just about managed to survive..their grandmother insisted they go to school, for she knew that was the way out of their current lives.. that was why she went through this day after day...

He was driving quite fast now, and had almost reached her, when a young man suddenly started to cross the road.. his blaring horns seemed to have no effect on him.. he was far too near for the brakes to have any effect, and besides, because of the rain, they would be almost useless.. the median and the traffic on the other side prevented him from making any attempts to his right.. the youngman was in front of him, and the old woman on his left..

in the couple of seconds he had, he actually thought, and made the decision... he groaned inwardly as he heard the wail of the old woman.. even though she was hurt pretty badly, the crowd had seen what had happened, and didnt harangue him, instead helped him carry her to the car... he looked around for the young man, but he seemed to have disappeared...

as the car zoomed away, the young man stepped out of a corner and cursed himself... earlier in the day, he had been diagnosed with a terminal disease.. all he wanted, was to die.....

until next time, who decides and how??

Human, after all...

As she sat in the coffee shop listening to the conversation, she wondered how she had ever become part of this group.. of late, she was trying to avoid them, but she couldnt be too obvious about it.. at present they were all she had..But the sweet syrupy camaraderie sickened her.. because she knew all the backbiting and tale telling that happened simultaneously within the group, not just about the others, but about people within the group too..

she had become part of the group because she thought they were genuinely different from her previous group of friends..but over a period of time she realised that all said and done, they were all the same within...she was one of the first members of this group, and all the members were personally known to her, for she was the person who brought them in, but she wondered whether any of them would understand if she tried to discuss this with them..

therefore she decided not to say anything, but gradually move out without too much fuss, and find another set who would be her kind of people, and this time she would be a little more careful about choosing the crowd..but damn, she thought, bloggers were supposed to be different!!

until next time, what exactly is 'different'?

A Matter of Choice

As he finished answering the last question in his aptitude test, he smiled at the irony of it all...

There was a time, a long time ago, when the fear of injections and vaccines had put a noble thought in his head - that he would become a doctor, a doctor who would take care of all the illnesses in the world, without hurting patients.. well all patients except some teachers,a few boys from the other gang and some assorted enemies he had made during his seven years of life so far...

But after he had heard his grandmother say that there was nothing better than to be able to sing and bring joy to millions of people, he had thought he should become a singer...considering that he had been won a whole lot of music competitions at school and otherwise in his twelve year life, he had every reason to believe that he would make a good singer...

He hated the injustice happening in the world, the way humans were treating other humans who were less fortunate than them... how humans were taking things for granted, and going along a path where the only aims were achieving more power and money without any concern for anything around them.. at 15 years of age,having been a part of the school debate team for over 3 years, he did believe he would make a good lawyer...

engineering was a good career option, especially if you were the kind who could build bridges,airports, railways etc.. that way, he could become directly involved with the development happening around him.. 22 years of life had taught him that noble thoughts had to go hand inhand with practicality, and there was a career to be made...it also taught him that an MBA could be a ticket to future successes.. that was why he was writing the aptitude test...

as he finished the aptitude test, he realised that it was quite similar to life.. for there were a lot of questions in which he felt that all the choices given were possible..

unfortunately,among the options, he could never find 'all of the above'...

until next time, life's like that....

A New Start

It was only a few days after the second world war ended. The victorious army marched into the city, the city which was all set to bask in its new found glory under the new regime...the army was tired, from the long march, but more so from the fierce skirmishes with the remnants of the enemy forces... but it had marched on, knowing that this was the dawn of a new era, and that they were about to make history...

all around them, people lined the streets, eager to welcome the forces that would take control of their country, their destiny, and eager to catch a glimpse of their leader, who was, by now, a living legend... the man who had fought their oppressors in different ways at different times, who had been their prisoner for years.. who had travelled across continents, with one burning dream, that of a free country..and that dream had been achieved, when the enemy had surrendered unconditionally...

the enemy had been part of a coalition that had called themselves the 'Allies' during the second world war, and had been ruling the country for centuries... but the 'allies' had been devastated in the second world war, and the man and his army, who had been fighting the allies were now about to take charge of the country... for he was the leader of the provisional indian government that had been formed during the war, and therefore the rightful leader of the now free country...

while the rest ofthe city blissfully celebrated, a few men huddled together in a small room, trying to chart their future course of action...these men were the working committee of the indian national congress.. the congress which believed that it had done all the hardwork to get the country free, but did not get what they considered their rightful due, not by any lack of effort from their part, but because of the shocking defeat of the 'allies'..for all of them, their joy at attaining freedom was tinged with a bit of sorrow, but all the more for a certain jawaharlal nehru, the man who would have been 'king' instead of netaji, if the die had been cast differently....

until next time, each different past could have meant a different present...

Ignorance and Bliss

i saw an old woman on the steet
and walked on... putting off a helping hand
for another day when we might meet



if by a strange twist of fate
i happened to know that she would be me and i would be her
on another world and another date




would i still ignore her and walk away
blissfully comfortable in my world, and ignorant of hers,
as i was on that day...


until next time, this is only a temporary aberration :)

Devil's Own

He aimed.. and missed.. damn!!, he thought... his target seemed to have the luck of the devil...perhaps he was indeed a devil incarnate... judging by his actions, that seemed to be very much in the realms of possibility...

He would have gone about the usual way - a small fire, a building collapse, a small road accident etc to finish his target, but this time the target was too wily, it was though he knew there was someone after his life.. which wasnt difficult to explain... for the target himself was aware that his actions so far would have created a lot of enemies, though few people realised he was behind many terrorist activities taking place in different parts of the world.. he was indeed the devil's own, created to spread terror and plunge humanity into misery and frustration... and since he realised he was a wanted man,he made sure he didnt travel alone.. he was always part of the crowd, and anyone trying to kill him would also kill a lot of innocent folk.. there was only one being he feared, and though he didnt realise it, he was being watched by him, that very moment...

Watching the target, he realised that he would have to bide his time.. for he really didnt want to use any method that would harm innocent people.. reworking destinies was a pain, one that he liked to avoid, unless absolutely necessary...He considered using some cop somewhere to finish his target, but realised that no human could match his target... thanks to the devil, some evil men he had to finish off himself... He couldnt afford the luxuries that the devil had, because from experience, when he made some humans extra powerful, he found that it was much easier for the devil to take them to his side..but damn, he was God, he wasnt supposed to miss...
until next time, do you think He needs help??

What goes around...

He rushed out of the lift, towards his car.. he was running really late for his flight... and it was a flight he had to catch, if we was to go as as far in his career as he wanted to... and he was confident, both about the flight and the career.. for he was an aggressive driver who knew how to have his way in the crazy metro trafic...he zoomed out of the carpark, much to the chargin of two drivers who almost crashed into each other.. in fact one of them still couldn't get his car under control...he couldnt care less..he was a veteran of such occasions, in most of which he had a direct hand...

he reached home, still running late, packed, got dressed and while waiting for the taxi, called the airport... the flight was on scheduled time, she said, but a litle bit of flirting made her divulge that the flight might be delayed, because the pilot hadnt reported in yet.. he leaned back, relaxed, more confident than ever before now... but that was shattered as soon as he encountered a traffic jam.. he called the airport, encountered the female voice again, and made sure that the regular check in time was waivered for him...

but inspite of all his threats to the driver, he was only able to reach the airport 5 minutes later than the scheduled take off, but he was sure that the pilot would have gotten stuck in the traffic, and the flight wouldnt have gone... but he was told that the flight had left on time with a different pilot...apparently, the scheduled pilot had not yet reported in...

as he was trying to get a ticket for the next flight, the pilot walked in, looking irritated.since there was nothing to be done, he tried to make conversation with the pilot..."i missed the flight too.." he said, smiling.."well, i wouldnt have", grumbled the pilot, "except that my driver was late. apparently some idiot zoomed out of a car park and made him crash into a median....."
until next time, take care, for we cant close all the loops...

The Hero

A small inconspicuous building in a remote island somewhere in south east asia. that was where he was, with a secret burning deep inside... he had flown here in his private jet,to commemmorate the birth anniversary of the man to whom he owed his current status... without that man, he would have been living a small life, in a small island.. not just him, every kid on the island his age..

the man, who had literally crash landed into their life ages ago, the only survivor of a plane crash.. though he had been very young, he still remembered how they had brought him to the village..he lay in a semi comatose state for nearly 2 years, forever rambling incoherently, in a language the island people didnt know... sometimes he sat bolt upright, eyes shining with a fire that commanded respect and awe..... the fisherman community of the small island tended to him for all the two years...he remembered the day in august, late 1940s, when the man regained full consciousness.. the first thing he asked was where he was, and seemed to understand the location from the rough drawings that the fisherman drew... he also realised that his co-travellers were dead.. however, he managed to confuse all those who asked him who he was..in spite of his condition, and the fact that he was obligated to the village folk, there was an authority in his tone...

the next thing he wanted was an english newspaper...the fishermen somehow managed to get the newspaper from the town in the next village... he first got to know about the time period he was unconscious for, from the newspaper date.. it quite obviously shocked him, but there was another news in the newspaper that seemed to shock and delight him simultaneously....he asked the fishermen to get all the newspapers and magazines of the last two years they could get.. after he read them, he cried for a long time, and his tears seemed to have quenched something in him, for after that, the fire rarely glowed in his eyes...

he didnt answer questions about his origin, and to all those who asked who he was, he claimed that he had forgotten.. he stated that the village was going to be his home.. he started a school, brought books from the nearby towns, and taught all the village children - basic englishand maths and the concepts of freedom and liberty, and how to fight against all forms ofoppression.... the man soon became the village's hero and when he talked about freedom, the fire in the eyes were briefly back...

He was one of the many kids the man taught... he later went to college and reached a positionin life, few from his village could even dream of... and when he had come back to convey his gratiude, he came to know the man had died... a man who had gifted a future to many.. a man without a past....that was exactly what he wanted to find out.... and after decades of search, he did, and that was the secret... in a land far away, they had made a movie about his village's hero... it was called 'Bose - the forgotten hero'...

until next time, thank you mr.benegal, for reminding us what we have ungratefully forgotten..

Stairway to Heaven

He was happy, he was going to die... for a long time now, he had been bed ridden, unable to do anything without someone else's help... he didnt want to be in this state, relying on others for everything, but he didnt have a choice...the past few days, his condition had worsened.. the doctors said he didnt have much time left, but he hardly believed them, they had been saying that for ages now...

he had come to the conclusion that he was going to die, based on his instinct...but his happiness was not only because he would finally be free of this disgusting existence, but at the thought of reuniting with his friends and relatives, who had died before him... though no one could ever be sure of what lay beyond death, he had a pretty old fashioned notion of what it could be... heaven, where it would be, well, like heaven, with all the angels and Him, of course... and all his friends, and everything good.. he was sure it would be like all the descriptions of paradise ever told... he would sit and talk forever with his friends, crack jokes... he was looking forward to all of it..

and he died.... and just like all the stories, he walked into the light, and was met at the gates of heaven by a very friendly person, who after several questions and tons of jokes on the people who generally landed up there, and reference checks from a big fat book, concluded that he had indeed been a nice person, and deserved a place in heaven....and with a 'welcome to heaven', the gates of heaven were opened to him...

and soon as he crossed the gates, he felt a wave passing over his mind, and all his memories slipping away...as soon as the wave passed, he realised that he no longer knew who he was....

until next time, maybe even memories arent forever....

(idea courtesy: the wife)

Work is Worship??

"Garden City Unguarded!!" screamed the headline, and he couldn't help but agree. in the past few days, the crime rate in the city was reaching alarming proportions. from common thieves to rapists to murderers , the city had become a haven for miscreants of all sorts... and the public and the media were raising a hue and cry over it, and rightly so...as he looked at the starry sky outside, the high rise buildings and the teeming nightlife, he knew why the city was being targeted for all the crimes - the sheer money that was so obviously and garishly displayed, and the huge percentage of non locals who had made this city their home... and because of that, travelling in the city after dark had become a very risky business...
he looked at his co-passengers in the bus, his colleagues, all of them belonging to the city, because his organisation believed in employing only the locals, giving them a chance to make money and realise their dreams... the founders of the organisation were veterans in their respective functional areas and all the employees were complete professionals, well trained and devoted to their job..
he felt a surge of pride, his organisation did set high standards...and he could honestly say that they were doing path breaking stuff... like the cliche went, they were not doing different things, but were indeed doing them differently...
his organisation was literally giving the software companies and the call centers a run for their money...he remembered that he was initially skeptical about joining, especially the late working hours and night shifts, but after knowing about the vision, work culture etc, he was convinced.. and now the organisation was taking care of the employees' transportation too, a nice gesture to say they cared...
as he watched different people getting down, he realised he was himself only a few minutes away from his stop... he was slightly apprehensive today because of the news about the increasing crime rate.. he wondered if the cops were doing something about it... he hoped not, for that would make his and his colleagues' work slightly difficult....
until next time, it helps to be organised...

Alternate Lives

He sat outside the court building, scanning the newspaper, and keeping an eye out for potential clients.." India win series", the massive headline on the sports page read, but he dismissed it with a contemptuous smile... he was no longer interested... he still remembered the times when cricket was his life, but that was a long time ago... these days, he sat outside the courthouse and helped people draft appeals, for a nominal fee. that was how he made a living. on weekends he went fishing, that was something he was good at since the old cricket days...
he wondered how his friends were doing these days, the old gang... he was still in touch with at least 4 of them. one was a visa consultant these days, waiting outside embassies in mumbai and helping people get the visa power... and having showdowns with underworld gangs while at it...
another was a bouncer at a popular discotheque in bangalore.. he was much in demand, because it was said that nothing could get past him, he was like a wall, and even the kids who couldnt get past him agreed that he was always technically correct...
the third guy was a mess. he had a problem with sticking on to any job. he was forever looking for some 'doosra' thing to do, and getting into trouble with officials, and girlfriends...
but the guy who was most successful was the telephone booth operator turned movie star.. he had initially got a phone because he used to regularly get calls from his mom, and since the phone was anyway available, he decided to make some money with it.. and since he was forever asking people "sir ji, mera chance", he finally landed a movie role, and became a superstar, of course, with blessings from his mom...
his thoughts were interrupted rudely by a client who was screaming at him, coz the appeal he had drafted had been turned down by the court.. some things never changed..
but life was a different ball game from cricket..once upon a time, he, along with the visa consultant and the movie star were the three S's, without whom the Indian cricket team couldnt exist. Between them and the 'doosra' guy they had taken indian cricket to its peak, but it was good only as long as it lasted...
until next time, howzzat??

Dance of Life

'Cut', yelled the choreographer, she winced at what she knew was about to come.... an avalanche of abuse and admonition from the choreographer... once upon a time, she was the most dependable of the 'extra artists', the one who would not take a step wrong.... she knew she still was getting it right, but things were different after she had strongly resisted the choreographer's advances..
he hadpromised her a prominent role in the movie he was about to make... but like she told him, if she had wanted that route to stardom, she would have done it long ago, instead of slogging out as an extra...a long time ago, she had come to this city of dreams to make it big in bollywood, along with her friend...
but somewhere, she had missed the bus to stardom, so had her friend..and though she had become an extra, her friend had stated that she would go to a studio only as a star... and to make ends meet, she was now dancing at one of the big dance bars..
these days, she felt envious of her friend... her friend danced in front of a crowd, who were extremely appreciative of her performances,maybe bordering on being lewd, but unlike choreographers and producers, kept their hands to themselves.. and literally showered money on her..
she wondered who was better off -she or her friend.. while her friend danced in skimpy clothes in front of a crowd, that was at most a few dozens of people, she danced in skimpy clothes (albeit in the background)in screens that were viewed by millions of people..
she decided that she would talk to her friend today, about getting work for her also in the place she worked in.. she didnt think it would be a problem, the dance bars always needed more girls..and so, she gave it right back to the choreographer, abused him, and spilled out his antics to everyone in hearing distance... when she was sure that he had lost tremendous face in front of everyone, she slapped him, a parting gift, she told him...
back in the room, she waited for her friend to return, it would be morning, but she decided to wait up... as soon as her friend walked in, she told her friend that she needed a job...
"so do i", said her friend...
"what do you mean?", she asked, with a sick feeling..
"haven't you read the papers? they are planning to close all the dance bars. i was hoping you could speak to your choreographer.."
until next time, sometimes getting the steps right aint enough..

Questions..... and answers

Tomorrow would be the last day of his current life, he thought, as he finished his day of work and got ready to go home... his wife would be waiting for him, they had decided to celebrate the night, not by hosting a huge party, but in each other's company.. before he left, he made sure he had passed on all his responsibilities to his colleagues...
he drove slowly, as though savouring each moment, for he didnt know if he would be seeing these sights again... well, he could know if he chose to, but he liked it this way... he shifted his thoughts, for these thoughts were for later in the night...
she was waiting for him, wearing the dress he loved to see her in... she smiled at him, a smile with a feeling he couldn't place... strange, for though he couldn't place it, he knew exactly what she was feeling.. no, it was not sadness, death was an inevitability they were all taught to accept... dinner was everything that he loved, and finally it was time for the one thing he had been postponing... he took out their box, the one branded 'lifefiles'...
it was programmed to accept only his and his wife's unique codes, he adjusted the controls so he could see his life the next day.... as the images flicked across the screen, he got to know that he would be dying on the way to work.. he had always hated the turn in the tunnel just before his office.. his wife was watching too, and again he could sense the strange feeling in both of them...a lot of people saw these images early in their life, for the day of death was given to you on the day you were born, along with your unique code, so you could access 'lifefiles' anytime you wished...
but to know your past and future lives, special permission was required from the authorities...a long time ago, people had tried to play around with their death situation, like not being at the place of death, but they realised that it led to unnecessary complications, and they died anyway,so gradually people stopped the fiddling and accepted the facts... the same way they had accepted the presence of a superior power a longer time ago... accepted it, when the power had started direct communication to them, at a time when humanity was its worst, with its continuous obsession for others, within the species and without..
well, times were different now, for after getting convinced that humanity was behaving itself,the power had told them the secrets of life and death... he also told them that he had revealed it to their ancestors aeons ago, but the knowledge had got lost as time passed...he wondered about his ancestors, how would it have been to wonder about the cycles of life and death, not knowing when you would die... to wonder about your existence and its meaning... all of which was impossible these days, for you knew the answers and the questions already... he wondered what was better, not knowing the answers or knowing them and not being able to do anything about them.... both of them were strange feelings...
until next time, whats the question??

Just a second.....anniversary special

All this while, there's been reason and no rhyme
And to the rhymester within, thats been a crime
So he thought, what better way to celebrate a blog birthday
than rhyming about all the guys he's met on the way....
For all who think he's better off keeping mum
This is nothing, the verse is yet to come....


Aqua wants us to remember
that we have dreams in December ...


Here's where we get elixir, but sadly, only a drop,
coz as the line goes,'once you start, you can't stop'


then there's the apple of newton's eye
ebony or ivory, wonder which is her favourite dye


The bad man talking calls himself stone,
But his notes to self always have a good tone..


and though this one advertises herself as a 'solitary cynic'
she is an integral part of the AA clique...


Vanilla writes on chocoalate cake,
dilse bolo, a better combination, could anyone make?


Until a jolt of reality, a potpourri of thoughts she used to fill,
pallavi's the name, and the blog that rocks is called jilmil...


Unless you have gone totally blind
a million light bulbs should help read the mind...


For those who think eschewing obfuscation wouldn't do
Harneet has random ruminations too...


Arunima has titled her blog "Silent Eloquence"
and for once, she makes a a lot of sense


Just a workshop?, nope, its not so simple,
coz its owned by none other than the devil...


And when you're always sanguine,
Celeb(be)rating life has to be in!!


The view from the tower must be supreme,
but then, being rapunzel itself is such a wonderful dream....


This one calls himself no hair brain
and his ruminations are far from insane...


From the oaf to pleo, he has a split personality of sorts
blot of thoughts, thought of blots, he calls it 'bloughts'...


The Goan Sri Sri, white is one of his favourite hues
but he still calls his blog 'saltwater blues'.


Finding a vanilla field is easier than i thought
but i hope this stays, and no new beginnings are sought...


The spirituality and the name -blokesablogin
got me confused, thought it was yang, turned out to be yin...


Arvind Iyer is the 'lean dude with attitude'
hey, its trademarked, unauthorised use could get you sued...


A lot of ideas are forged by the ideasmith
and most of them are the kind you'll agree with..


Ashweeta has got herself some pages at typepad,
and here, even the PJs aren't that bad...


The crackpot calls her blog 'inkspillz'
and though she's not a goddess now,it certainly sizzlez!!


The chipmonster speaks, but she blogz as coolcat,
but whatever the name, this one's cool and thats that!!


Whats an erratic soul that can dance?
That folks, is what we call an errantrance


The fish called goonda thinks she's a fishy fiend,
but after sad-turn kidnapped her, she's taken a long time to mend....


Austere she is, and a seeker too,
wonder what she seeks, or should it be who??


The Grinch may call it 'grinchscrumpit' or 'my dump pit',
but the content is as good as any floyd hit...


Nupur writes about what even she doesnt know,
but mate, she does have a template whiter than snow..


Chaotic daze and enthu knights,
gump does have some great insights


Garfy has got herself a diary
and her antics are anything but dreary...


Amidst all the middle east's troubles
ashi sips coffee and continues her virtual scribbles..


Kraz calls his place wrecktangle
and to every tale, he adds a unique angle...


Pompy's blog is "off the cuff"
but you wouldnt realise, judging from the stuff


Imagine a blog by satchit haridas,
actually dont, he already has....


Crabbie likes to call it goofiness personified
but pretty soon it could become a classic food guide :)


one of the best templates you can find - thats "pradeeps's mindspace"
he posts every bluemoon, and in spite of my taunts, he wont mend his ways!!


Once she used to be a bug, she is now an angel with wings
and from budhhism to winterwear, she can write on a zillion things!!


He's the blogger who whacks the talk,
but when he gets verse, i go "what the f***"!!


There's someone who goes by the name of J
she has a warped mind, and thats all she'll say..:)


Anubhas world has a lot of scribblings
and an attitude, among other things...


And from the days of rediff, i've been getting some pearls of wisdom,
She's not on the list, but she's as good as they come..


The journey that began on a boring tuesday,
has continued for 2 years, to this day...
for better or verse, this one is for all the bloggers i know
and the ones i dont, but who are still part of the show...