Most people may not understand this. Pardon me for saying this, but most of us eat whatever is dropped on our plate. At least you should know better !!
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Easy To Understand Nihilistic Quotes II
Most people may not understand this. Pardon me for saying this, but most of us eat whatever is dropped on our plate. At least you should know better !!
Easy To Understand Nihilistic Quotes
If you get and understand this NIHILISTIC QUOTE, you are an intelligent young man, and that you are AWAKE.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Nothing Much But All Okay
Victoria Azarenka (Belarusian: Вікторыя Фёдараўна Азаранка (Viktoriya Fyodorovna Azarenka), (Russian: Викто́рия Фёдоровна Аза́ренко), born 31 July 1989 is a Belarusian professional tennis player. She is a former world No. 1 and is currently world No. 49 as of 2 February 2015.
She has won two Australian Open singles titles (2012 and 2013), becoming the first Belarusian player to win a Grand Slam singles title. Her other achievements include winning the bronze medal at the 2012 Summer Olympics in London, two mixed doubles Grand Slam titles—the 2007 US Open with Max Mirnyi, the 2008 French Open with Bob Bryan—and the gold medal in the mixed doubles at the 2012 Summer Olympics with Max Mirnyi.
In August 2013, Azarenka was named the fourth highest paid female athlete in the world by Forbes Magazine, with total earnings of $15.7 million between 2012–2013. Her prize money constituted $6.7 million while her growing endorsements equaled $9 million. Azarenka's $7.9 million prize money haul in 2012 was a single year record for a female athlete in any sport.
Ooh la......
Thursday, February 19, 2015
What Is Nihilism
In other words, a nihilist is a "person who does not bow down to any authority, who does not accept any principle, however much that principle may be revered."
The human mind creates ethics, moral codes, rules, excuses and justifications for the deepest epiphany and the most trivial event alike.
Some even go so far as to hijack random events and misinterpret them as self-created, the psychological principle known as 'illusion of control'. Unfortunately the complexities of the human mind merely make it easier to believe in fantasy and entertain delusion.
Such an effort to find greater significance where there really is none and this only leads to wayward guidance and specious justifications. Those concocted reasons are then used to justify what need not be justified like our continued existence except based upon lies, setting up everyone for the fall when the myth erodes.
Everything would move onward quite smoothly without any human minds around to believe in good, bad and/ or any other fictions, which it did before us and it would do so after as well. Instead the Nihilist is concerned with the things that matter whether anyone believes in them or not; all those forces and factors that influence even the things that don't think.
Self-delusion may well be the defining quality of human nature. Lies maintain our flimsy order, we find consolation in myths like 'what we do has significance' and 'the bad gets punished'.
The constant avalanche of empirical evidence to the contrary simply gets relegated to the third class bureau of irrational philosophers.
In short, hypocrisy can only flourish when goodness is defined not only as kind and altruistic behavior, but as sticking to the rules as well.
Clearly we have a dilemma on our hands...
That is to say a real, mature nihilist is a very serious person with a sharp and cogent mind, but who also is dealing with a double edged sword that can just as easily lead to damage, as to enlightenment.
As humbling as it is, the scale and perhaps significance of humanity shrinks in accordance with the magnitude of our knowledge.
A basic understanding of cosmology leads to the ultimate nihilism.
Springing from a cosmic accident, we have apparently no purpose, objectives or value.
As a "practiising nihilist" [ and I hate myself for that ], I say it's our domain and we can make it a hell or a heaven. But as long as we prejudge the decision absolving ourselves of responsibility then it probably will be a realm of "mr. hot stuff".
If that's what everyone expects, then that's all it will ever be.
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
The Tracker - Stillwell shoots Noble Adams
"The Tracker" is just an old TV-movie from the 1980's you might think, but thanks to Kevin Jarre's well-written story the film works very well, better than most modern action-oriented Westerns. But the film has also Kris Kristofferson in the main role, and he is suitable as Noble Adams.
I think Kristofferson clearly shows that he handles his role very well, and one of the main reasons why the film works the way it does. Scott Wilson as the protagonist is excellent as usual, with strong contributions by all cast involved. I urge any true Western fan to obtain and watch THE TRACKER; it is an experience to be enjoyed and appreciated.
Any fan of the western genre should collect it.
Monday, February 16, 2015
Pranchiyettan And The Saint - Malayalam Movie
Hilarious - Must Watch - Highlights so many aspects of Trichur !
Friday, February 13, 2015
Indian Politicians Replacing A Light Bulb..
Dr. Kiran Bedi
Onlookers gathered at the house with the dead bulb scatter as a huge crane approaches with a loud honk. Dr. Kiran Bedi waves from the driver’s seat, cuing cheers from the crowd. Buoyed by the crowd’s response, she starts blowing flying kisses to the crowd.
With great dexterity and focus, Dr. Bedi moves a lever and navigates the crane’s hook through the door of the house. Dr. Bedi then presses a button that makes the hook clamp on the dead bulb. Dr. Bedi pulls the lever back, and the hook pulls the bulb out of its socket, and holds it high for gathered onlookers to see. A roar spreads through the crowd.
However, instead of putting in the new bulb, Dr. Bedi begins to click a few photos of the crowd, then grabs a microphone and starts giving a speech. “Kaisi lagi yeh? Aap dekhte rahiye, main is bulb ki sach much watt laga doongi [How did you like it? Keep watching, I'll take this bulb's case],” Dr. Bedi chirps with child-like excitement. The crowd looks a bit bewildered.
Undeterred, she continues, “I have been an administrator for 40 years! I have been a political scientist and I have also been an electrician. Yeh dekhiye! [Look at this!]” and opens a blue file, with the word “bulbs” on its cover. As Dr. Bedi wades through the file, each page containing images of different bulbs, the crowd starts murmuring, clearly distracted.
Dr. Bedi continues anyway, “Mitron, I have just 1 formula for light bulbs – 3F: Fuse, Filament, Fluorescence. Repeat after me!” The crowd, however, is clearly not paying attention. Dr. Bedi says, “You people are not listening to me! Listen and repeat after me.”
By this time, the crowd decides it has had enough and starts screaming out Modi’s name. Dr. Bedi covers her face, wipes a few tears and, “I can’t continue like this.” Seeing no signs of sympathy from the crowd, Dr. Bedi says, “I’m sorry, I’ve to go tow something else. There are 3 other objects waiting to be towed by me. See you some other time,” and leaves the venue.
Later, Dr. Bedi reasons, “I have not escaped from fixing the light bulb. I have evolved into a different reasoning. My party has escaped and it has to introspect. I will say I’ve escaped only when I’ve not tried my best to fix it.”
Smriti Irani
The nation’s favorite bahu, Union HRD Minister Smriti Irani arrives at the venue at 6 am, looks at the dead bulb and bursts into tears. The bulb is taken to a nearby lake, burned and then immersed. While residents of the house wait for a replacement, Smriti tells them that she will be a little late. The HRD minister then makes a quick dash to her astrologer, who looks at the new bulb, chants some mantras and says that there’s a Rahu Kaal for the next 2 hours and 11.30 am is good muhurat to install the new bulb.
Complying with his recommendation, Smriti leaves at 11 am, immediately after the Rahu Kaal lapses and heads to the venue with the bulb. As residents wait eagerly, Smriti pauses and observes the clock, until it turns 11.30. She then quickly fits in the new bulb and switches it on. Grateful residents of the house thank her profusely.
Smriti, however, says that it’s not enough. An official hands over a certificate, which the residents are asked to sign. The certificate reads: “This is to certify that Mr/Ms. Smriti Irani has successfully completed a crash course in fixing a light bulb at our residence. Signed/- ”
By this time, Prof. Madhu Kishwar has already written a stinging blog post, detailing why the new bulb is not likely to last more than a month.
Arun Jaitley
Cool as ever, Finance Minister Arun Jaitley arrives at the venue, turns the switch on and verifies that the bulb is indeed dead. As the residents of the house watch, Jaitley makes a couple of quick phone calls. In 10 minutes, the gate opens and an NDTV OB van comes in. Shekhar Gupta walks to the location, greets Jaitley and once the camera rolls, the Finance Minister pulls the dead bulb out and the duo walk around the house in the garden, filming another episode of NDTV’s “Walk The Talk” until they reach the dustbin, where Jaitley throws the dead bulb away.
While he walks back to the wall to install the new one, NDTV’s Barkha Dutt waits, overseeing the positioning of 2 chairs adjacent to the wall. As the camera rolls, Jaitley installs the new bulb, switches it on and under the bright light, the two of them take their seats. Barkha begins an hour-long interview about with bulb with Jaitley, where he says that he plans to allot Rupees 100 Crore in the upcoming budget to replace dead light bulbs.
Akhilesh Yadav
The UP CM arrives in his convoy at the residence where the bulb has gone dead. As his car door opens, Akhilesh emerges in a white skull cap, followed by his father. Mulayam asks him, “Beta, have you done this before?” to which the CM replies, “No dad, but fear not. I’ve downloaded videos of how to replace light bulbs. I’ll just watch this now and do it.”
Opening his laptop, Akhilesh plays a downloaded documentary on fixing a light bulb, watches it for 2 minutes and then proceeds to remove the dead bulb. Upon realizing that the residents in the house are Muslims, Akhilesh announces a complete waiver on the new bulb’s electricity charges. He then installs a brand new bulb in its place and turns the switch on. The bulb doesn’t glow and they all realize that there is a day-long power cut in the area.
Azam Khan
The senior Samajwadi Party leader arrives at the house where the bulb has gone dead, discovers that the residents are Muslims, and announces that this happened because they are Muslims. Azam pulls the dead bulb out and promises to be back with a new bulb soon. The next day, Azam undertakes a 2-week long massive study tour, across Europe, North America, South America, Antractica and Australia, to learn how light bulbs are replaced in those continents.
Once he’s back, Azam returns to the house and fixes a new bulb in the residence. He tells the residents that the old bulb will be handed over to the Waqf board.
Post Courtesy
http://www.theunrealtimes.com/2015/02/13/exclusive-part-2-indian-politicians-replace-a-light-bulb/
(Image via indiatoday.com)
Onlookers gathered at the house with the dead bulb scatter as a huge crane approaches with a loud honk. Dr. Kiran Bedi waves from the driver’s seat, cuing cheers from the crowd. Buoyed by the crowd’s response, she starts blowing flying kisses to the crowd.
With great dexterity and focus, Dr. Bedi moves a lever and navigates the crane’s hook through the door of the house. Dr. Bedi then presses a button that makes the hook clamp on the dead bulb. Dr. Bedi pulls the lever back, and the hook pulls the bulb out of its socket, and holds it high for gathered onlookers to see. A roar spreads through the crowd.
However, instead of putting in the new bulb, Dr. Bedi begins to click a few photos of the crowd, then grabs a microphone and starts giving a speech. “Kaisi lagi yeh? Aap dekhte rahiye, main is bulb ki sach much watt laga doongi [How did you like it? Keep watching, I'll take this bulb's case],” Dr. Bedi chirps with child-like excitement. The crowd looks a bit bewildered.
Undeterred, she continues, “I have been an administrator for 40 years! I have been a political scientist and I have also been an electrician. Yeh dekhiye! [Look at this!]” and opens a blue file, with the word “bulbs” on its cover. As Dr. Bedi wades through the file, each page containing images of different bulbs, the crowd starts murmuring, clearly distracted.
Dr. Bedi continues anyway, “Mitron, I have just 1 formula for light bulbs – 3F: Fuse, Filament, Fluorescence. Repeat after me!” The crowd, however, is clearly not paying attention. Dr. Bedi says, “You people are not listening to me! Listen and repeat after me.”
By this time, the crowd decides it has had enough and starts screaming out Modi’s name. Dr. Bedi covers her face, wipes a few tears and, “I can’t continue like this.” Seeing no signs of sympathy from the crowd, Dr. Bedi says, “I’m sorry, I’ve to go tow something else. There are 3 other objects waiting to be towed by me. See you some other time,” and leaves the venue.
Later, Dr. Bedi reasons, “I have not escaped from fixing the light bulb. I have evolved into a different reasoning. My party has escaped and it has to introspect. I will say I’ve escaped only when I’ve not tried my best to fix it.”
Smriti Irani
The nation’s favorite bahu, Union HRD Minister Smriti Irani arrives at the venue at 6 am, looks at the dead bulb and bursts into tears. The bulb is taken to a nearby lake, burned and then immersed. While residents of the house wait for a replacement, Smriti tells them that she will be a little late. The HRD minister then makes a quick dash to her astrologer, who looks at the new bulb, chants some mantras and says that there’s a Rahu Kaal for the next 2 hours and 11.30 am is good muhurat to install the new bulb.
Complying with his recommendation, Smriti leaves at 11 am, immediately after the Rahu Kaal lapses and heads to the venue with the bulb. As residents wait eagerly, Smriti pauses and observes the clock, until it turns 11.30. She then quickly fits in the new bulb and switches it on. Grateful residents of the house thank her profusely.
Smriti, however, says that it’s not enough. An official hands over a certificate, which the residents are asked to sign. The certificate reads: “This is to certify that Mr/Ms. Smriti Irani has successfully completed a crash course in fixing a light bulb at our residence. Signed/- ”
By this time, Prof. Madhu Kishwar has already written a stinging blog post, detailing why the new bulb is not likely to last more than a month.
Arun Jaitley
Cool as ever, Finance Minister Arun Jaitley arrives at the venue, turns the switch on and verifies that the bulb is indeed dead. As the residents of the house watch, Jaitley makes a couple of quick phone calls. In 10 minutes, the gate opens and an NDTV OB van comes in. Shekhar Gupta walks to the location, greets Jaitley and once the camera rolls, the Finance Minister pulls the dead bulb out and the duo walk around the house in the garden, filming another episode of NDTV’s “Walk The Talk” until they reach the dustbin, where Jaitley throws the dead bulb away.
While he walks back to the wall to install the new one, NDTV’s Barkha Dutt waits, overseeing the positioning of 2 chairs adjacent to the wall. As the camera rolls, Jaitley installs the new bulb, switches it on and under the bright light, the two of them take their seats. Barkha begins an hour-long interview about with bulb with Jaitley, where he says that he plans to allot Rupees 100 Crore in the upcoming budget to replace dead light bulbs.
Akhilesh Yadav
The UP CM arrives in his convoy at the residence where the bulb has gone dead. As his car door opens, Akhilesh emerges in a white skull cap, followed by his father. Mulayam asks him, “Beta, have you done this before?” to which the CM replies, “No dad, but fear not. I’ve downloaded videos of how to replace light bulbs. I’ll just watch this now and do it.”
Opening his laptop, Akhilesh plays a downloaded documentary on fixing a light bulb, watches it for 2 minutes and then proceeds to remove the dead bulb. Upon realizing that the residents in the house are Muslims, Akhilesh announces a complete waiver on the new bulb’s electricity charges. He then installs a brand new bulb in its place and turns the switch on. The bulb doesn’t glow and they all realize that there is a day-long power cut in the area.
Azam Khan
The senior Samajwadi Party leader arrives at the house where the bulb has gone dead, discovers that the residents are Muslims, and announces that this happened because they are Muslims. Azam pulls the dead bulb out and promises to be back with a new bulb soon. The next day, Azam undertakes a 2-week long massive study tour, across Europe, North America, South America, Antractica and Australia, to learn how light bulbs are replaced in those continents.
Once he’s back, Azam returns to the house and fixes a new bulb in the residence. He tells the residents that the old bulb will be handed over to the Waqf board.
Post Courtesy
http://www.theunrealtimes.com/2015/02/13/exclusive-part-2-indian-politicians-replace-a-light-bulb/
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Farida Jalal converts to Christianity in the hope of an apology from AIB
Actress Farida Jalal converted to Christianity on Monday evening at St Michael’s Church in Mumbai in the presence of a priest. According to sources close to the veteran actress, she took this drastic decision in the hope of an apology from comedy collective AIB for what some think is a crass dig at her.
(Image via IndiaToday.com)
Speaking to The UnReal Times, the actress who now goes by the name Farida Josephine Jalal, said, “Obviously I was deeply offended by the joke. How can they say something like that after all the countless maa roles that I have done? Of course I was hoping that they’d apologize to me!”
“But several days after the show went viral, forget an apology, not even an explanation came my way,” she added. “Then I read their post on Facebook where they offered an unconditional apology to the archdiocese and the Christian community, and figured out how these things work. I pondered over the matter for a while, then made my way to the church.”
Minutes after news about Farida’s conversion to Christianity hit social media, an AIB member began composing a fresh post on their Facebook page.
Amidst the din over the AIB knockout, we’ve had the opportunity to reach out to some groups who have had questions about the jokes and the taste they were made in. For example, we had extensive discussions with the kind Farida Josephine Jalal. We explained to her that we didn’t set out to hurt her or the Christian community when we wrote the jokes, and offered an unconditional apology to her and the entire Christian community for any offense caused. We’d like to thank the kind Farida Josephine Jalal for sitting down with us, hearing us out and giving us a chance to apologize. AIB believes…
Meanwhile, a fringe Hindu group based in Mumbai has already approached Farida Jalal to enlist her in their next ghar wapsi session.
Article Courtesy:
http://www.theunrealtimes.com/2015/02/10/farida-jalal-converts-to-christianity-in-the-hope-of-an-apology-from-aib/
(Image via IndiaToday.com)
Speaking to The UnReal Times, the actress who now goes by the name Farida Josephine Jalal, said, “Obviously I was deeply offended by the joke. How can they say something like that after all the countless maa roles that I have done? Of course I was hoping that they’d apologize to me!”
“But several days after the show went viral, forget an apology, not even an explanation came my way,” she added. “Then I read their post on Facebook where they offered an unconditional apology to the archdiocese and the Christian community, and figured out how these things work. I pondered over the matter for a while, then made my way to the church.”
Minutes after news about Farida’s conversion to Christianity hit social media, an AIB member began composing a fresh post on their Facebook page.
Amidst the din over the AIB knockout, we’ve had the opportunity to reach out to some groups who have had questions about the jokes and the taste they were made in. For example, we had extensive discussions with the kind Farida Josephine Jalal. We explained to her that we didn’t set out to hurt her or the Christian community when we wrote the jokes, and offered an unconditional apology to her and the entire Christian community for any offense caused. We’d like to thank the kind Farida Josephine Jalal for sitting down with us, hearing us out and giving us a chance to apologize. AIB believes…
Meanwhile, a fringe Hindu group based in Mumbai has already approached Farida Jalal to enlist her in their next ghar wapsi session.
Article Courtesy:
http://www.theunrealtimes.com/2015/02/10/farida-jalal-converts-to-christianity-in-the-hope-of-an-apology-from-aib/
Monday, February 9, 2015
How Much Do You Know About Australia
With all due respects, this was sent to me by an American friend based in the KangarooKingdom., a few years back... now with the World Cup round the corner, thought of updating myself...
How much do you really know about Ozzies and Australia
In many respects, the conventions of Australians and Americans, both in behavior (behaviour) and speech, align with similarities. This is even more clear, for instance, when an Australian newspaper made reference to the Mile High Club. And here I was all this time calling it the 1.6 Kilometer Club. No wonder I've struggled with membership.
Anyway, on the subject of cultural comparison, I've long noticed a Facebook group called "You know you're an Australian when . . ." -- which I've of course not yet joined, because it lists 50 measurements for membership, and you need to be painfully bored to read 50-item account of insanity.
Today, though, I was bored. So I took the test, pasted below (with my answers following). I decided to join the group only if I scored 25/50 or better.
1. You're familiar with Neighbours, Home and Away, Playschool, A Country Practice, Norman Gunston, Barry Humphries, Blue Heelers, Ray Martin, Bert Newton, Lisa McCune, Jon Burgess, Number 96, Molly Meldrum, Kerry O'Brien, and of course, Kerry Packer and Rupert Murdoch.
• Only three of these proper nouns ring a bell, perhaps the first handicap of life without television. Granted, one of these three is my boss's boss's boss's boss. But until I meet him, or ride on his private Gulfstream, there's no partial credit. (0/1)
2. You know that Burger King doesn't exist. It's Hungry Jacks.
• Bingo. For proof, see 13-Oct blog reference. (http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07286/825285-402.stm) Never eaten there, though. (1/2)
3. You know that snow is a memorable and freakish occurrence. Sometimes it's even fake.
• Easy. And what is this, Dubai? Most Sydneysiders don't own jackets. (2/3)
4. You know the difference between thongs and a G-banger
• Note to self: find out what a G-banger is. (2/4)
5. You know that "stubbies" are either short shorts or small beer bottles, a "gimp", "bogan" or "geezer" is a random idiot, someone in trouble is in "strife" and you're liable to burst out laughing whenever you hear of Americans "rooting" for something.
• Only the bogan reference eluded me, so I'm counting this. Rooting is the key. Say you're "rooting" here, and people will get the mental picture of nudity and orifices. I was warned about this long before departing for Australian soil. Thank you, Reg (3/5)
6. You know that some people pronounce "Australia" like "Strayla" and that's OK.
• Sure. You hear this especially out in the bush. Or on domestic-made country albums. (4/6)
7. You know that while we call our friends 'mates, we don't use terms like "shiela" and "shrimp on the barbie", contrary to popular belief.
• I've learned this, too. In fact, the whole notion that Australians know barbecue is a dangerous lie. Anybody who's dined here would agree. (5/7)
8. You know that none of us actually drink Fosters beer because it tastes like s--t. But we let the world think we do. Because we can.
• I agree with the smack-talk on Fosters. Problem is, other Aussie lagers taste quite the same. (6/8)
9. You know how to abbreviate every word, all of which usually end in -o: arvo, combo, garbo, kero, lezzo, metho, milko, muso, rego, servo, smoko, righto etc.
• I know the language, but don't speak it. Hey, the Multisyllabics gotta have some groupies, too. (6/9)
10. You resent people who succeed over others. Everyone should do the same thing, so we all get a "fair go"; a kind of 'American-dream' in reverse. This is why we actively like not liking Americans.
• Woah -- where did this hostility come from? Australians have this saying that parallels the sentiments above: something about cutting down the tallest trees among us. This culture abhors pretension, which is good. But it leads to a strange shame regarding great achievement, and you get this population overload around the median. I don't understand. (6/10)
11. You've seen Gallipoli, Crocodile Dundee, Young Einstein, Muriel's Wedding, The Castle, Beneath Clouds, Strictly Ballroom, 40,000 Horsemen, and maybe even Wolf Creek.
• No. No. And more no. No regrets losing this point, either. (6/11)
12. It makes you happy when someone in Hollywood is actually Australian. . . Mel Gibson, Nicole Kidman, Cate Blanchett, Baz Luhrman, Elle MacPherson, Olivia Newton-John, Midnight Oil, ACDC, INXS, Greg Norman, Cathy Freeman, Dawn Fraser, Pat Rafter, Ian Thorpe. . .
• Heart just isn't in it. (6/12)
13. One word: Skippy.
• Not peanut butter, evidently. (6/13)
14. You know that Sydney 2000 was one of our proudest moments in history. We just rock.
• No mention here, though, that tens of thousands of prescient Sydneysiders took three-week vacations during the Olympics to escape the mayhem. (7/14)
15. You know that you are not going to die of cholera or other Third World diseases (remote Aboriginal communities are a different matter).
• Been sick twice here, or more than I'd been in the last three years combined. The ol' immune system has been thrown by the antipodal bacteria. (7/15)
16. You know our country has never been conquered by a foreign nation (you don't count 1788).
• Clearly. Only conqueror here is named Rupert. (8/16)
17. We know that the Metric system will always be better than anything inches, feet, pounds and farenheit will ever offer.
• Disagree, and I will note the linguistic dexterity of "mile" as evidence. There is no metric equivalent, for instance, to gas mileage. No equivalent to the high-flyin' club, either. (8/17)
18. You drive on the left-hand side of the road.
• While feeling simultaneously at ease and bad a--. (9/18)
19. If you're a pedestrian and cars are stopped at a red light, you will fearlessly cross the street in front of them.
• Took awhile, but I'm comfortable now. (10/19)
20. You think of Australia as being somewhat out of place within the Asia-Pacific region; surrounded by unstable ex-colonial nations who regard you as racist, imperialist, and unfairly wealthy.
• True, but at least we've stolen their food. (11/20)
21. You know that New Zealanders are basically our naive country cousins, who have a weird fush-and-chups accent, and for some bizarre reason, think that they invented pavlova. Bastards. They are to be pitied and laughed at. They have no hope of gaining the upper hand in the endless sporting rivalry between our two nations.
• Australia : New Zealand :: US : Canada. (12/21)
22. You know that you can't eat Fantales alone. . . Otherwise who will you play the "Who am I..." game with when you're reading the wrapper?
• Huh? (12/22)
23. You know that Sydney should be the capital because Canberra is a hole.
• Canberra is like Harrisburg, but worse, because it doesn't have this guy. (13/23)
24. You know that Americans think we're all Steve Irwin clones. And crickey, they couldn't be more wrong.
• Confirmed. Australians don't wear those outdoorsy beige vests. (14/24)
25. You know that Lawyers wear wigs and gowns. And we make it look good.
• Documented by G'DFT, 1-Nov. (15/25)
26. You have some time in your life slept with Aeroguard on in the summer. Maybe even as perfume.
• Never. Not on the Bucket List, either. (15/26)
27. You feel obliged to spread salty black stuff that looks like congealed motor oil on bread. . . and actually grow to like it. You've also squeeze Vegemite through Vita Wheats to make little Vegemite worms.
• Vile quasi-food yeast residue should never be an obligation. (15/27)
28. You believe that democracy means the freedom to draw caricatures of good ol' Johnny Howard
• Funny thing about John Howard. He was Australia's PM for 12 years -- or slightly longer, if you believe everything to read here. But in my months living here, I've come to identify a curious quality that I feel certain contributed to Howard's appeal. A shocking portion of Australians between ages 50-65 look almost identical to Howard. Especially when jogging in the morning. They look healthy but well-fed. Generally of pleasant disposition. They are bald and round-faced. They are probably wearing New Balance shoes, with socks pulled up midway to the knees. My theory, basically, is that John Howard got a lot of votes because a lot of voters looked like John Howard. (16/28)
29. You think footballers dressing up in drag on TV is funny (but your son being gay isn't).
• Dear reference, meet the air above my head. (16/29)
30. You have the ability to compress several words into one -- ie g'day' and d'reckn?. This allows more space for profanities.
• Yeah, I've picked up on this. (17/30)
31. You've ever used the words - tops, ripper, sick, mad, rad, sweet - to mean good. And then you place "bloody" in front of it when you REALLY mean it.
• I say reckon, but not bloody. (17/31)
32. You know that the barbeque is a political arena; the person holding the tongs is always the boss and usually a man. And the women make the salad.
• Before we can start with all this Ralph-conch talk, first I gotta meet a man who knows his barbecue. Still waiting. (17/32)
33. The private lives of footy and cricket players become more important than local and national news stories.
• Sometimes, I even write these stories. (18/33)
34. You say "no worries" quite often, whether you realise it or not.
• If it sounds repetitive to others, I can't say I'm worried. (19/34)
35. You know what fairy bread tastes like, and you can't imagine your childhood without it.
• Back in the day, my parents enacted strict regulations on Nintendo and television viewing and sugary cereal, and I'm sure if our grocery store carried anything called fairy bread, it would have faced similar tariffs. (19/35)
36. You know the first verse to the national anthem, but still don't know what "girt" means. And you're OK with that.
• Couldn't recite it verbatim. Even when spotted the mystery word. (19/36)
37. You've drank your tea/coffee/milo through a tim tam.
• Never. But I'm picky about coffee. (19/37)
38. You know that backyard cricket is a nice way to bond with family and the rubbish bin. And the 'one bounce, one hand' rule always applies.
• I've covered cricket, but never played. (19/38)
39. You know that we are home to the just about all of the world's deadliest of animals. That's why if anybody messes with us we'll get some funnel webs on their a--es.
• It's amazing I've survived long enough to answer this question. (20/39)
40. You see people walking bare-foot on the sidewalk and don't scorn... because you're doing it too.
• Frankly, I never see bare feet. I do notice about 90-percent of the population wearing these. (20/40)
41. You know what trop-fest is and it makes you happy.
• Ignorance. (20/41). Please note, by the way, that I picked the 25/50 target without pre-reading these items, and by pure happenstance, I've been dancing just above and just below the 50 percent line. Serendipitous drama, I know.
42. Sausage rolls and meat pies. End of story.
• I've gorged on meat pies this year. Had one yesterday afternoon, for that matter, and the guy who served it to me even mentioned, "I don't know how these haven't caught on in America." Amen. (21/42)
43. You firmly believe that in the end, everything will be ok and have offered advice that included the words, "she'll be right, mate."
• I'd say, "She'll be alright, mate." Technicality costs a point. (21/43)
44. You have a story that somehow involves an excessive consumption of goon. . . but you can't remember.
• If only. Blog would be richer for it. (21/44)
45. You own a Bond's chesty. In several different colours.
• This is a chesty, which I do not own, if only because of residual stigmatisms formed from watching reruns of "Cops." I do, however, own some Bonds boxer briefs. (21/45)
46. You've ordered a steak the size as your head and only paid $5 at your local RSL
• I see signs advertising as much every day. And I keep walking. (21/46)
47. You know that Italy should never have been granted that fateful kick in the 2006 Soccer World Cup.
• Soccer? World Cup details? I'm feeling Pickler-clueless here. (21/47)
48. You know how to slip, slop, slap like it's nobody's business.
• "Budapest? I never even heard of that." (21/48)
49. You've heard the Prime Minister dismiss anyone who disagrees with him simply as "un-Australian," and that's enough to make us sit down and shut up.
• Un-Australian is the Aussie ace card, able to rationalize any behavior. I've seen it first hand. Many nights, it's been the reason to stay at the pub for one more. (22/49)
50. You know that the value of a public holiday is measured in terms of alcohol. God bless the queen and her 4-day birthday.
• Tomorrow is a public holiday, but for once, the pubs are closed. Good Friday ain't good for the Aussies. (23/50) Oh, and 46 percent won't make me an Aussie. Which is fine, frankly. There's no point in declaring full allegiance to a country that hasn't yet released the new DBT album.
How much do you really know about Ozzies and Australia
In many respects, the conventions of Australians and Americans, both in behavior (behaviour) and speech, align with similarities. This is even more clear, for instance, when an Australian newspaper made reference to the Mile High Club. And here I was all this time calling it the 1.6 Kilometer Club. No wonder I've struggled with membership.
Anyway, on the subject of cultural comparison, I've long noticed a Facebook group called "You know you're an Australian when . . ." -- which I've of course not yet joined, because it lists 50 measurements for membership, and you need to be painfully bored to read 50-item account of insanity.
Today, though, I was bored. So I took the test, pasted below (with my answers following). I decided to join the group only if I scored 25/50 or better.
1. You're familiar with Neighbours, Home and Away, Playschool, A Country Practice, Norman Gunston, Barry Humphries, Blue Heelers, Ray Martin, Bert Newton, Lisa McCune, Jon Burgess, Number 96, Molly Meldrum, Kerry O'Brien, and of course, Kerry Packer and Rupert Murdoch.
• Only three of these proper nouns ring a bell, perhaps the first handicap of life without television. Granted, one of these three is my boss's boss's boss's boss. But until I meet him, or ride on his private Gulfstream, there's no partial credit. (0/1)
2. You know that Burger King doesn't exist. It's Hungry Jacks.
• Bingo. For proof, see 13-Oct blog reference. (http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07286/825285-402.stm) Never eaten there, though. (1/2)
3. You know that snow is a memorable and freakish occurrence. Sometimes it's even fake.
• Easy. And what is this, Dubai? Most Sydneysiders don't own jackets. (2/3)
4. You know the difference between thongs and a G-banger
• Note to self: find out what a G-banger is. (2/4)
5. You know that "stubbies" are either short shorts or small beer bottles, a "gimp", "bogan" or "geezer" is a random idiot, someone in trouble is in "strife" and you're liable to burst out laughing whenever you hear of Americans "rooting" for something.
• Only the bogan reference eluded me, so I'm counting this. Rooting is the key. Say you're "rooting" here, and people will get the mental picture of nudity and orifices. I was warned about this long before departing for Australian soil. Thank you, Reg (3/5)
6. You know that some people pronounce "Australia" like "Strayla" and that's OK.
• Sure. You hear this especially out in the bush. Or on domestic-made country albums. (4/6)
7. You know that while we call our friends 'mates, we don't use terms like "shiela" and "shrimp on the barbie", contrary to popular belief.
• I've learned this, too. In fact, the whole notion that Australians know barbecue is a dangerous lie. Anybody who's dined here would agree. (5/7)
8. You know that none of us actually drink Fosters beer because it tastes like s--t. But we let the world think we do. Because we can.
• I agree with the smack-talk on Fosters. Problem is, other Aussie lagers taste quite the same. (6/8)
9. You know how to abbreviate every word, all of which usually end in -o: arvo, combo, garbo, kero, lezzo, metho, milko, muso, rego, servo, smoko, righto etc.
• I know the language, but don't speak it. Hey, the Multisyllabics gotta have some groupies, too. (6/9)
10. You resent people who succeed over others. Everyone should do the same thing, so we all get a "fair go"; a kind of 'American-dream' in reverse. This is why we actively like not liking Americans.
• Woah -- where did this hostility come from? Australians have this saying that parallels the sentiments above: something about cutting down the tallest trees among us. This culture abhors pretension, which is good. But it leads to a strange shame regarding great achievement, and you get this population overload around the median. I don't understand. (6/10)
11. You've seen Gallipoli, Crocodile Dundee, Young Einstein, Muriel's Wedding, The Castle, Beneath Clouds, Strictly Ballroom, 40,000 Horsemen, and maybe even Wolf Creek.
• No. No. And more no. No regrets losing this point, either. (6/11)
12. It makes you happy when someone in Hollywood is actually Australian. . . Mel Gibson, Nicole Kidman, Cate Blanchett, Baz Luhrman, Elle MacPherson, Olivia Newton-John, Midnight Oil, ACDC, INXS, Greg Norman, Cathy Freeman, Dawn Fraser, Pat Rafter, Ian Thorpe. . .
• Heart just isn't in it. (6/12)
13. One word: Skippy.
• Not peanut butter, evidently. (6/13)
14. You know that Sydney 2000 was one of our proudest moments in history. We just rock.
• No mention here, though, that tens of thousands of prescient Sydneysiders took three-week vacations during the Olympics to escape the mayhem. (7/14)
15. You know that you are not going to die of cholera or other Third World diseases (remote Aboriginal communities are a different matter).
• Been sick twice here, or more than I'd been in the last three years combined. The ol' immune system has been thrown by the antipodal bacteria. (7/15)
16. You know our country has never been conquered by a foreign nation (you don't count 1788).
• Clearly. Only conqueror here is named Rupert. (8/16)
17. We know that the Metric system will always be better than anything inches, feet, pounds and farenheit will ever offer.
• Disagree, and I will note the linguistic dexterity of "mile" as evidence. There is no metric equivalent, for instance, to gas mileage. No equivalent to the high-flyin' club, either. (8/17)
18. You drive on the left-hand side of the road.
• While feeling simultaneously at ease and bad a--. (9/18)
19. If you're a pedestrian and cars are stopped at a red light, you will fearlessly cross the street in front of them.
• Took awhile, but I'm comfortable now. (10/19)
20. You think of Australia as being somewhat out of place within the Asia-Pacific region; surrounded by unstable ex-colonial nations who regard you as racist, imperialist, and unfairly wealthy.
• True, but at least we've stolen their food. (11/20)
21. You know that New Zealanders are basically our naive country cousins, who have a weird fush-and-chups accent, and for some bizarre reason, think that they invented pavlova. Bastards. They are to be pitied and laughed at. They have no hope of gaining the upper hand in the endless sporting rivalry between our two nations.
• Australia : New Zealand :: US : Canada. (12/21)
22. You know that you can't eat Fantales alone. . . Otherwise who will you play the "Who am I..." game with when you're reading the wrapper?
• Huh? (12/22)
23. You know that Sydney should be the capital because Canberra is a hole.
• Canberra is like Harrisburg, but worse, because it doesn't have this guy. (13/23)
24. You know that Americans think we're all Steve Irwin clones. And crickey, they couldn't be more wrong.
• Confirmed. Australians don't wear those outdoorsy beige vests. (14/24)
25. You know that Lawyers wear wigs and gowns. And we make it look good.
• Documented by G'DFT, 1-Nov. (15/25)
26. You have some time in your life slept with Aeroguard on in the summer. Maybe even as perfume.
• Never. Not on the Bucket List, either. (15/26)
27. You feel obliged to spread salty black stuff that looks like congealed motor oil on bread. . . and actually grow to like it. You've also squeeze Vegemite through Vita Wheats to make little Vegemite worms.
• Vile quasi-food yeast residue should never be an obligation. (15/27)
28. You believe that democracy means the freedom to draw caricatures of good ol' Johnny Howard
• Funny thing about John Howard. He was Australia's PM for 12 years -- or slightly longer, if you believe everything to read here. But in my months living here, I've come to identify a curious quality that I feel certain contributed to Howard's appeal. A shocking portion of Australians between ages 50-65 look almost identical to Howard. Especially when jogging in the morning. They look healthy but well-fed. Generally of pleasant disposition. They are bald and round-faced. They are probably wearing New Balance shoes, with socks pulled up midway to the knees. My theory, basically, is that John Howard got a lot of votes because a lot of voters looked like John Howard. (16/28)
29. You think footballers dressing up in drag on TV is funny (but your son being gay isn't).
• Dear reference, meet the air above my head. (16/29)
30. You have the ability to compress several words into one -- ie g'day' and d'reckn?. This allows more space for profanities.
• Yeah, I've picked up on this. (17/30)
31. You've ever used the words - tops, ripper, sick, mad, rad, sweet - to mean good. And then you place "bloody" in front of it when you REALLY mean it.
• I say reckon, but not bloody. (17/31)
32. You know that the barbeque is a political arena; the person holding the tongs is always the boss and usually a man. And the women make the salad.
• Before we can start with all this Ralph-conch talk, first I gotta meet a man who knows his barbecue. Still waiting. (17/32)
33. The private lives of footy and cricket players become more important than local and national news stories.
• Sometimes, I even write these stories. (18/33)
34. You say "no worries" quite often, whether you realise it or not.
• If it sounds repetitive to others, I can't say I'm worried. (19/34)
35. You know what fairy bread tastes like, and you can't imagine your childhood without it.
• Back in the day, my parents enacted strict regulations on Nintendo and television viewing and sugary cereal, and I'm sure if our grocery store carried anything called fairy bread, it would have faced similar tariffs. (19/35)
36. You know the first verse to the national anthem, but still don't know what "girt" means. And you're OK with that.
• Couldn't recite it verbatim. Even when spotted the mystery word. (19/36)
37. You've drank your tea/coffee/milo through a tim tam.
• Never. But I'm picky about coffee. (19/37)
38. You know that backyard cricket is a nice way to bond with family and the rubbish bin. And the 'one bounce, one hand' rule always applies.
• I've covered cricket, but never played. (19/38)
39. You know that we are home to the just about all of the world's deadliest of animals. That's why if anybody messes with us we'll get some funnel webs on their a--es.
• It's amazing I've survived long enough to answer this question. (20/39)
40. You see people walking bare-foot on the sidewalk and don't scorn... because you're doing it too.
• Frankly, I never see bare feet. I do notice about 90-percent of the population wearing these. (20/40)
41. You know what trop-fest is and it makes you happy.
• Ignorance. (20/41). Please note, by the way, that I picked the 25/50 target without pre-reading these items, and by pure happenstance, I've been dancing just above and just below the 50 percent line. Serendipitous drama, I know.
42. Sausage rolls and meat pies. End of story.
• I've gorged on meat pies this year. Had one yesterday afternoon, for that matter, and the guy who served it to me even mentioned, "I don't know how these haven't caught on in America." Amen. (21/42)
43. You firmly believe that in the end, everything will be ok and have offered advice that included the words, "she'll be right, mate."
• I'd say, "She'll be alright, mate." Technicality costs a point. (21/43)
44. You have a story that somehow involves an excessive consumption of goon. . . but you can't remember.
• If only. Blog would be richer for it. (21/44)
45. You own a Bond's chesty. In several different colours.
• This is a chesty, which I do not own, if only because of residual stigmatisms formed from watching reruns of "Cops." I do, however, own some Bonds boxer briefs. (21/45)
46. You've ordered a steak the size as your head and only paid $5 at your local RSL
• I see signs advertising as much every day. And I keep walking. (21/46)
47. You know that Italy should never have been granted that fateful kick in the 2006 Soccer World Cup.
• Soccer? World Cup details? I'm feeling Pickler-clueless here. (21/47)
48. You know how to slip, slop, slap like it's nobody's business.
• "Budapest? I never even heard of that." (21/48)
49. You've heard the Prime Minister dismiss anyone who disagrees with him simply as "un-Australian," and that's enough to make us sit down and shut up.
• Un-Australian is the Aussie ace card, able to rationalize any behavior. I've seen it first hand. Many nights, it's been the reason to stay at the pub for one more. (22/49)
50. You know that the value of a public holiday is measured in terms of alcohol. God bless the queen and her 4-day birthday.
• Tomorrow is a public holiday, but for once, the pubs are closed. Good Friday ain't good for the Aussies. (23/50) Oh, and 46 percent won't make me an Aussie. Which is fine, frankly. There's no point in declaring full allegiance to a country that hasn't yet released the new DBT album.
Monday, September 14, 2009
ParetoLogic Privacy Controls - A Review
ParetoLogic Privacy Controls is a great software from ParetoLogic that has most of the essential features to keep your privacy features under check and to help keep your computer, protected. It is powerful and provides complete shredding and elimination of confidential information.
In other words, it doesn’t allow your business to become public.
Most of us are aware that any person who has access to our computer can view our Internet activities and any of our files, including pictures, music, and video entries, both permanent and temporary.
In other words, it doesn’t allow your business to become public.
Most of us are aware that any person who has access to our computer can view our Internet activities and any of our files, including pictures, music, and video entries, both permanent and temporary.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Searching to buy a van rack ?
What can one say about a van rack that hasn’t already been expressed...?
The van rack technology is so advanced now and if you are in the market to buy a van rack, there are certain things to check out.
Obviously, you are searching for a good price and there are prices ranging anywhere from $30 to $700. Besides, you would also want to do your homework on the different materials that they are made from...
The van rack technology is so advanced now and if you are in the market to buy a van rack, there are certain things to check out.
Obviously, you are searching for a good price and there are prices ranging anywhere from $30 to $700. Besides, you would also want to do your homework on the different materials that they are made from...
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Market research and Synovate - one word
This is a Sponsored Post
Market research is for discovering what people want, need, or believe.
Basically, Market research represents the voice of the consumer in a company.
Market research is for discovering what people want, need, or believe.
Basically, Market research represents the voice of the consumer in a company.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Win $10,000 From Joining Look Of The Year - be discovered !
Stand out - be discovered !
Do you love fashion or would you like to become a top model?
Are you young and beautiful and have you ever dreamt of a career in the fashion?
Do you love fashion or would you like to become a top model?
Are you young and beautiful and have you ever dreamt of a career in the fashion?
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Avoiding Impulse Spending
Answer these questions truthfully:
1.) Does your spouse or partner complain that you spend too much money?
2.) Are you surprised each month when your credit card bill arrives at how much more you charged than you thought you had?
3.) Do you have more shoes and clothes in your closet than you could ever possibly wear?
4.) Do you own every new gadget before it has time to collect dust on a retailer’s shelf?
5.) Do you buy things you didn’t know you wanted until you saw them on display in a store?
If you answered “yes” to any two of the above questions, you are an impulse spender and indulge yourself in retail therapy.
This is not a good thing. It will prevent you from saving for the important things like a house, a new car, a vacation or retirement. You must set some financial goals and resist spending money on items that really don’t matter in the long run.
Impulse spending will not only put a strain on your finances but your relationships, as well. To overcome the problem, the first thing to do is learn to separate your needs from your wants.
Advertisers blitz us hawking their products at us 24/7. The trick is to give yourself a cooling-off period before you buy anything that you have not planned for.
When you go shopping, make a list and take only enough cash to pay for what you have planned to buy. Leave your credit cards at home.
If you see something you think you really need, give yourself two weeks to decide if it is really something you need or something you can easily do without. By following this simple solution, you will mend your financial fences and your relationships.
1.) Does your spouse or partner complain that you spend too much money?
2.) Are you surprised each month when your credit card bill arrives at how much more you charged than you thought you had?
3.) Do you have more shoes and clothes in your closet than you could ever possibly wear?
4.) Do you own every new gadget before it has time to collect dust on a retailer’s shelf?
5.) Do you buy things you didn’t know you wanted until you saw them on display in a store?
If you answered “yes” to any two of the above questions, you are an impulse spender and indulge yourself in retail therapy.
This is not a good thing. It will prevent you from saving for the important things like a house, a new car, a vacation or retirement. You must set some financial goals and resist spending money on items that really don’t matter in the long run.
Impulse spending will not only put a strain on your finances but your relationships, as well. To overcome the problem, the first thing to do is learn to separate your needs from your wants.
Advertisers blitz us hawking their products at us 24/7. The trick is to give yourself a cooling-off period before you buy anything that you have not planned for.
When you go shopping, make a list and take only enough cash to pay for what you have planned to buy. Leave your credit cards at home.
If you see something you think you really need, give yourself two weeks to decide if it is really something you need or something you can easily do without. By following this simple solution, you will mend your financial fences and your relationships.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
You know you're an Australian when...
In many respects, the conventions of Australians and Americans, both in behavior (behaviour) and speech, align with similarities. This is even more clear, for instance, when an Australian newspaper made reference to the Mile High Club. And here I was all this time calling it the 1.6 Kilometer Club. No wonder I've struggled with membership.
Anyway, on the subject of cultural comparison, I've long noticed a Facebook group called "You know you're an Australian when . . ." -- which I've of course not yet joined, because it lists 50 measurements for membership, and you need to be painfully bored to read 50-item account of insanity.
Today, though, I was bored. So I took the test, pasted below (with my answers following). I decided to join the group only if I scored 25/50 or better.
1. You're familiar with Neighbours, Home and Away, Playschool, A Country Practice, Norman Gunston, Barry Humphries, Blue Heelers, Ray Martin, Bert Newton, Lisa McCune, Jon Burgess, Number 96, Molly Meldrum, Kerry O'Brien, and of course, Kerry Packer and Rupert Murdoch.
• Only three of these proper nouns ring a bell, perhaps the first handicap of life without television. Granted, one of these three is my boss's boss's boss's boss. But until I meet him, or ride on his private Gulfstream, there's no partial credit. (0/1)
2. You know that Burger King doesn't exist. It's Hungry Jacks.
• Bingo. For proof, see 13-Oct blog reference. (http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07286/825285-402.stm) Never eaten there, though. (1/2)
3. You know that snow is a memorable and freakish occurrence. Sometimes it's even fake.
• Easy. And what is this, Dubai? Most Sydneysiders don't own jackets. (2/3)
4. You know the difference between thongs and a G-banger
• Note to self: find out what a G-banger is. (2/4)
5. You know that "stubbies" are either short shorts or small beer bottles, a "gimp", "bogan" or "geezer" is a random idiot, someone in trouble is in "strife" and you're liable to burst out laughing whenever you hear of Americans "rooting" for something.
• Only the bogan reference eluded me, so I'm counting this. Rooting is the key. Say you're "rooting" here, and people will get the mental picture of nudity and orifices. I was warned about this long before departing for Australian soil. Thank you, Reg (3/5)
6. You know that some people pronounce "Australia" like "Strayla" and that's OK.
• Sure. You hear this especially out in the bush. Or on domestic-made country albums. (4/6)
7. You know that while we call our friends 'mates, we don't use terms like "shiela" and "shrimp on the barbie", contrary to popular belief.
• I've learned this, too. In fact, the whole notion that Australians know barbecue is a dangerous lie. Anybody who's dined here would agree. (5/7)
8. You know that none of us actually drink Fosters beer because it tastes like s--t. But we let the world think we do. Because we can.
• I agree with the smack-talk on Fosters. Problem is, other Aussie lagers taste quite the same. (6/8)
9. You know how to abbreviate every word, all of which usually end in -o: arvo, combo, garbo, kero, lezzo, metho, milko, muso, rego, servo, smoko, righto etc.
• I know the language, but don't speak it. Hey, the Multisyllabics gotta have some groupies, too. (6/9)
10. You resent people who succeed over others. Everyone should do the same thing, so we all get a "fair go"; a kind of 'American-dream' in reverse. This is why we actively like not liking Americans.
• Woah -- where did this hostility come from? Australians have this saying that parallels the sentiments above: something about cutting down the tallest trees among us. This culture abhors pretension, which is good. But it leads to a strange shame regarding great achievement, and you get this population overload around the median. I don't understand. (6/10)
11. You've seen Gallipoli, Crocodile Dundee, Young Einstein, Muriel's Wedding, The Castle, Beneath Clouds, Strictly Ballroom, 40,000 Horsemen, and maybe even Wolf Creek.
• No. No. And more no. No regrets losing this point, either. (6/11)
12. It makes you happy when someone in Hollywood is actually Australian. . . Mel Gibson, Nicole Kidman, Russle Crowe, Cate Blanchett, Baz Luhrman, Elle MacPherson, Olivia Newton-John, Midnight Oil, ACDC, INXS, Greg Norman, Cathy Freeman, Dawn Fraser, Pat Rafter, Ian Thorpe. . .
• Heart just isn't in it. (6/12)
13. One word: Skippy.
• Not peanut butter, evidently. (6/13)
14. You know that Sydney 2000 was one of our proudest moments in history. We just rock.
• No mention here, though, that tens of thousands of prescient Sydneysiders took three-week vacations during the Olympics to escape the mayhem. (7/14)
15. You know that you are not going to die of cholera or other Third World diseases (remote Aboriginal communities are a different matter).
• Been sick twice here, or more than I'd been in the last three years combined. The ol' immune system has been thrown by the antipodal bacteria. (7/15)
16. You know our country has never been conquered by a foreign nation (you don't count 1788).
• Clearly. Only conqueror here is named Rupert. (8/16)
17. We know that the Metric system will always be better than anything inches, feet, pounds and farenheit will ever offer.
• Disagree, and I will note the linguistic dexterity of "mile" as evidence. There is no metric equivalent, for instance, to gas mileage. No equivalent to the high-flyin' club, either. (8/17)
18. You drive on the left-hand side of the road.
• While feeling simultaneously at ease and bad a--. (9/18)
19. If you're a pedestrian and cars are stopped at a red light, you will fearlessly cross the street in front of them.
• Took awhile, but I'm comfortable now. (10/19)
20. You think of Australia as being somewhat out of place within the Asia-Pacific region; surrounded by unstable ex-colonial nations who regard you as racist, imperialist, and unfairly wealthy.
• True, but at least we've stolen their food. (11/20)
21. You know that New Zealanders are basically our naive country cousins, who have a weird fush-and-chups accent, and for some bizarre reason, think that they invented pavlova. Bastards. They are to be pitied and laughed at. They have no hope of gaining the upper hand in the endless sporting rivalry between our two nations.
• Australia : New Zealand :: US : Canada. (12/21)
22. You know that you can't eat Fantales alone. . . Otherwise who will you play the "Who am I..." game with when you're reading the wrapper?
• Huh? (12/22)
23. You know that Sydney should be the capital because Canberra is a hole.
• Canberra is like Harrisburg, but worse, because it doesn't have this guy. (13/23)
24. You know that Americans think we're all Steve Irwin clones. And crickey, they couldn't be more wrong.
• Confirmed. Australians don't wear those outdoorsy beige vests. (14/24)
25. You know that Lawyers wear wigs and gowns. And we make it look good.
• Documented by G'DFT, 1-Nov. (15/25)
26. You have some time in your life slept with Aeroguard on in the summer. Maybe even as perfume.
• Never. Not on the Bucket List, either. (15/26)
27. You feel obliged to spread salty black stuff that looks like congealed motor oil on bread. . . and actually grow to like it. You've also squeeze Vegemite through Vita Wheats to make little Vegemite worms.
• Vile quasi-food yeast residue should never be an obligation. (15/27)
28. You believe that democracy means the freedom to draw caricatures of good ol' Johnny Howard
• Funny thing about John Howard. He was Australia's PM for 12 years -- or slightly longer, if you believe everything to read here. But in my months living here, I've come to identify a curious quality that I feel certain contributed to Howard's appeal. A shocking portion of Australians between ages 50-65 look almost identical to Howard. Especially when jogging in the morning. They look healthy but well-fed. Generally of pleasant disposition. They are bald and round-faced. They are probably wearing New Balance shoes, with socks pulled up midway to the knees. My theory, basically, is that John Howard got a lot of votes because a lot of voters looked like John Howard. (16/28)
29. You think footballers dressing up in drag on TV is funny (but your son being gay isn't).
• Dear reference, meet the air above my head. (16/29)
30. You have the ability to compress several words into one -- ie g'day' and d'reckn?. This allows more space for profanities.
• Yeah, I've picked up on this. (17/30)
31. You've ever used the words - tops, ripper, sick, mad, rad, sweet - to mean good. And then you place "bloody" in front of it when you REALLY mean it.
• I say reckon, but not bloody. (17/31)
32. You know that the barbeque is a political arena; the person holding the tongs is always the boss and usually a man. And the women make the salad.
• Before we can start with all this Ralph-conch talk, first I gotta meet a man who knows his barbecue. Still waiting. (17/32)
33. The private lives of footy and cricket players become more important than local and national news stories.
• Sometimes, I even write these stories. (18/33)
34. You say "no worries" quite often, whether you realise it or not.
• If it sounds repetitive to others, I can't say I'm worried. (19/34)
35. You know what fairy bread tastes like, and you can't imagine your childhood without it.
• Back in the day, my parents enacted strict regulations on Nintendo and television viewing and sugary cereal, and I'm sure if our grocery store carried anything called fairy bread, it would have faced similar tariffs. (19/35)
36. You know the first verse to the national anthem, but still don't know what "girt" means. And you're OK with that.
• Couldn't recite it verbatim. Even when spotted the mystery word. (19/36)
37. You've drank your tea/coffee/milo through a tim tam.
• Never. But I'm picky about coffee. (19/37)
38. You know that backyard cricket is a nice way to bond with family and the rubbish bin. And the 'one bounce, one hand' rule always applies.
• I've covered cricket, but never played. (19/38)
39. You know that we are home to the just about all of the world's deadliest of animals. That's why if anybody messes with us we'll get some funnel webs on their a--es.
• It's amazing I've survived long enough to answer this question. (20/39)
40. You see people walking bare-foot on the sidewalk and don't scorn... because you're doing it too.
• Frankly, I never see bare feet. I do notice about 90-percent of the population wearing these. (20/40)
41. You know what trop-fest is and it makes you happy.
• Ignorance. (20/41). Please note, by the way, that I picked the 25/50 target without pre-reading these items, and by pure happenstance, I've been dancing just above and just below the 50 percent line. Serendipitous drama, I know.
42. Sausage rolls and meat pies. End of story.
• I've gorged on meat pies this year. Had one yesterday afternoon, for that matter, and the guy who served it to me even mentioned, "I don't know how these haven't caught on in America." Amen. (21/42)
43. You firmly believe that in the end, everything will be ok and have offered advice that included the words, "she'll be right, mate."
• I'd say, "She'll be alright, mate." Technicality costs a point. (21/43)
44. You have a story that somehow involves an excessive consumption of goon. . . but you can't remember.
• If only. Blog would be richer for it. (21/44)
45. You own a Bond's chesty. In several different colours.
• This is a chesty, which I do not own, if only because of residual stigmatisms formed from watching reruns of "Cops." I do, however, own some Bonds boxer briefs. (21/45)
46. You've ordered a steak the size as your head and only paid $5 at your local RSL
• I see signs advertising as much every day. And I keep walking. (21/46)
47. You know that Italy should never have been granted that fateful kick in the 2006 Soccer World Cup.
• Soccer? World Cup details? I'm feeling Pickler-clueless here. (21/47)
48. You know how to slip, slop, slap like it's nobody's business.
• "Budapest? I never even heard of that." (21/48)
49. You've heard the Prime Minister dismiss anyone who disagrees with him simply as "un-Australian," and that's enough to make us sit down and shut up.
• Un-Australian is the Aussie ace card, able to rationalize any behavior. I've seen it first hand. Many nights, it's been the reason to stay at the pub for one more. (22/49)
50. You know that the value of a public holiday is measured in terms of alcohol. God bless the queen and her 4-day birthday.
• Tomorrow is a public holiday, but for once, the pubs are closed. Good Friday ain't good for the Aussies. (23/50) Oh, and 46 percent won't make me an Aussie. Which is fine, frankly. There's no point in declaring full allegiance to a country that hasn't yet released the new DBT album.
Anyway, on the subject of cultural comparison, I've long noticed a Facebook group called "You know you're an Australian when . . ." -- which I've of course not yet joined, because it lists 50 measurements for membership, and you need to be painfully bored to read 50-item account of insanity.
Today, though, I was bored. So I took the test, pasted below (with my answers following). I decided to join the group only if I scored 25/50 or better.
1. You're familiar with Neighbours, Home and Away, Playschool, A Country Practice, Norman Gunston, Barry Humphries, Blue Heelers, Ray Martin, Bert Newton, Lisa McCune, Jon Burgess, Number 96, Molly Meldrum, Kerry O'Brien, and of course, Kerry Packer and Rupert Murdoch.
• Only three of these proper nouns ring a bell, perhaps the first handicap of life without television. Granted, one of these three is my boss's boss's boss's boss. But until I meet him, or ride on his private Gulfstream, there's no partial credit. (0/1)
2. You know that Burger King doesn't exist. It's Hungry Jacks.
• Bingo. For proof, see 13-Oct blog reference. (http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07286/825285-402.stm) Never eaten there, though. (1/2)
3. You know that snow is a memorable and freakish occurrence. Sometimes it's even fake.
• Easy. And what is this, Dubai? Most Sydneysiders don't own jackets. (2/3)
4. You know the difference between thongs and a G-banger
• Note to self: find out what a G-banger is. (2/4)
5. You know that "stubbies" are either short shorts or small beer bottles, a "gimp", "bogan" or "geezer" is a random idiot, someone in trouble is in "strife" and you're liable to burst out laughing whenever you hear of Americans "rooting" for something.
• Only the bogan reference eluded me, so I'm counting this. Rooting is the key. Say you're "rooting" here, and people will get the mental picture of nudity and orifices. I was warned about this long before departing for Australian soil. Thank you, Reg (3/5)
6. You know that some people pronounce "Australia" like "Strayla" and that's OK.
• Sure. You hear this especially out in the bush. Or on domestic-made country albums. (4/6)
7. You know that while we call our friends 'mates, we don't use terms like "shiela" and "shrimp on the barbie", contrary to popular belief.
• I've learned this, too. In fact, the whole notion that Australians know barbecue is a dangerous lie. Anybody who's dined here would agree. (5/7)
8. You know that none of us actually drink Fosters beer because it tastes like s--t. But we let the world think we do. Because we can.
• I agree with the smack-talk on Fosters. Problem is, other Aussie lagers taste quite the same. (6/8)
9. You know how to abbreviate every word, all of which usually end in -o: arvo, combo, garbo, kero, lezzo, metho, milko, muso, rego, servo, smoko, righto etc.
• I know the language, but don't speak it. Hey, the Multisyllabics gotta have some groupies, too. (6/9)
10. You resent people who succeed over others. Everyone should do the same thing, so we all get a "fair go"; a kind of 'American-dream' in reverse. This is why we actively like not liking Americans.
• Woah -- where did this hostility come from? Australians have this saying that parallels the sentiments above: something about cutting down the tallest trees among us. This culture abhors pretension, which is good. But it leads to a strange shame regarding great achievement, and you get this population overload around the median. I don't understand. (6/10)
11. You've seen Gallipoli, Crocodile Dundee, Young Einstein, Muriel's Wedding, The Castle, Beneath Clouds, Strictly Ballroom, 40,000 Horsemen, and maybe even Wolf Creek.
• No. No. And more no. No regrets losing this point, either. (6/11)
12. It makes you happy when someone in Hollywood is actually Australian. . . Mel Gibson, Nicole Kidman, Russle Crowe, Cate Blanchett, Baz Luhrman, Elle MacPherson, Olivia Newton-John, Midnight Oil, ACDC, INXS, Greg Norman, Cathy Freeman, Dawn Fraser, Pat Rafter, Ian Thorpe. . .
• Heart just isn't in it. (6/12)
13. One word: Skippy.
• Not peanut butter, evidently. (6/13)
14. You know that Sydney 2000 was one of our proudest moments in history. We just rock.
• No mention here, though, that tens of thousands of prescient Sydneysiders took three-week vacations during the Olympics to escape the mayhem. (7/14)
15. You know that you are not going to die of cholera or other Third World diseases (remote Aboriginal communities are a different matter).
• Been sick twice here, or more than I'd been in the last three years combined. The ol' immune system has been thrown by the antipodal bacteria. (7/15)
16. You know our country has never been conquered by a foreign nation (you don't count 1788).
• Clearly. Only conqueror here is named Rupert. (8/16)
17. We know that the Metric system will always be better than anything inches, feet, pounds and farenheit will ever offer.
• Disagree, and I will note the linguistic dexterity of "mile" as evidence. There is no metric equivalent, for instance, to gas mileage. No equivalent to the high-flyin' club, either. (8/17)
18. You drive on the left-hand side of the road.
• While feeling simultaneously at ease and bad a--. (9/18)
19. If you're a pedestrian and cars are stopped at a red light, you will fearlessly cross the street in front of them.
• Took awhile, but I'm comfortable now. (10/19)
20. You think of Australia as being somewhat out of place within the Asia-Pacific region; surrounded by unstable ex-colonial nations who regard you as racist, imperialist, and unfairly wealthy.
• True, but at least we've stolen their food. (11/20)
21. You know that New Zealanders are basically our naive country cousins, who have a weird fush-and-chups accent, and for some bizarre reason, think that they invented pavlova. Bastards. They are to be pitied and laughed at. They have no hope of gaining the upper hand in the endless sporting rivalry between our two nations.
• Australia : New Zealand :: US : Canada. (12/21)
22. You know that you can't eat Fantales alone. . . Otherwise who will you play the "Who am I..." game with when you're reading the wrapper?
• Huh? (12/22)
23. You know that Sydney should be the capital because Canberra is a hole.
• Canberra is like Harrisburg, but worse, because it doesn't have this guy. (13/23)
24. You know that Americans think we're all Steve Irwin clones. And crickey, they couldn't be more wrong.
• Confirmed. Australians don't wear those outdoorsy beige vests. (14/24)
25. You know that Lawyers wear wigs and gowns. And we make it look good.
• Documented by G'DFT, 1-Nov. (15/25)
26. You have some time in your life slept with Aeroguard on in the summer. Maybe even as perfume.
• Never. Not on the Bucket List, either. (15/26)
27. You feel obliged to spread salty black stuff that looks like congealed motor oil on bread. . . and actually grow to like it. You've also squeeze Vegemite through Vita Wheats to make little Vegemite worms.
• Vile quasi-food yeast residue should never be an obligation. (15/27)
28. You believe that democracy means the freedom to draw caricatures of good ol' Johnny Howard
• Funny thing about John Howard. He was Australia's PM for 12 years -- or slightly longer, if you believe everything to read here. But in my months living here, I've come to identify a curious quality that I feel certain contributed to Howard's appeal. A shocking portion of Australians between ages 50-65 look almost identical to Howard. Especially when jogging in the morning. They look healthy but well-fed. Generally of pleasant disposition. They are bald and round-faced. They are probably wearing New Balance shoes, with socks pulled up midway to the knees. My theory, basically, is that John Howard got a lot of votes because a lot of voters looked like John Howard. (16/28)
29. You think footballers dressing up in drag on TV is funny (but your son being gay isn't).
• Dear reference, meet the air above my head. (16/29)
30. You have the ability to compress several words into one -- ie g'day' and d'reckn?. This allows more space for profanities.
• Yeah, I've picked up on this. (17/30)
31. You've ever used the words - tops, ripper, sick, mad, rad, sweet - to mean good. And then you place "bloody" in front of it when you REALLY mean it.
• I say reckon, but not bloody. (17/31)
32. You know that the barbeque is a political arena; the person holding the tongs is always the boss and usually a man. And the women make the salad.
• Before we can start with all this Ralph-conch talk, first I gotta meet a man who knows his barbecue. Still waiting. (17/32)
33. The private lives of footy and cricket players become more important than local and national news stories.
• Sometimes, I even write these stories. (18/33)
34. You say "no worries" quite often, whether you realise it or not.
• If it sounds repetitive to others, I can't say I'm worried. (19/34)
35. You know what fairy bread tastes like, and you can't imagine your childhood without it.
• Back in the day, my parents enacted strict regulations on Nintendo and television viewing and sugary cereal, and I'm sure if our grocery store carried anything called fairy bread, it would have faced similar tariffs. (19/35)
36. You know the first verse to the national anthem, but still don't know what "girt" means. And you're OK with that.
• Couldn't recite it verbatim. Even when spotted the mystery word. (19/36)
37. You've drank your tea/coffee/milo through a tim tam.
• Never. But I'm picky about coffee. (19/37)
38. You know that backyard cricket is a nice way to bond with family and the rubbish bin. And the 'one bounce, one hand' rule always applies.
• I've covered cricket, but never played. (19/38)
39. You know that we are home to the just about all of the world's deadliest of animals. That's why if anybody messes with us we'll get some funnel webs on their a--es.
• It's amazing I've survived long enough to answer this question. (20/39)
40. You see people walking bare-foot on the sidewalk and don't scorn... because you're doing it too.
• Frankly, I never see bare feet. I do notice about 90-percent of the population wearing these. (20/40)
41. You know what trop-fest is and it makes you happy.
• Ignorance. (20/41). Please note, by the way, that I picked the 25/50 target without pre-reading these items, and by pure happenstance, I've been dancing just above and just below the 50 percent line. Serendipitous drama, I know.
42. Sausage rolls and meat pies. End of story.
• I've gorged on meat pies this year. Had one yesterday afternoon, for that matter, and the guy who served it to me even mentioned, "I don't know how these haven't caught on in America." Amen. (21/42)
43. You firmly believe that in the end, everything will be ok and have offered advice that included the words, "she'll be right, mate."
• I'd say, "She'll be alright, mate." Technicality costs a point. (21/43)
44. You have a story that somehow involves an excessive consumption of goon. . . but you can't remember.
• If only. Blog would be richer for it. (21/44)
45. You own a Bond's chesty. In several different colours.
• This is a chesty, which I do not own, if only because of residual stigmatisms formed from watching reruns of "Cops." I do, however, own some Bonds boxer briefs. (21/45)
46. You've ordered a steak the size as your head and only paid $5 at your local RSL
• I see signs advertising as much every day. And I keep walking. (21/46)
47. You know that Italy should never have been granted that fateful kick in the 2006 Soccer World Cup.
• Soccer? World Cup details? I'm feeling Pickler-clueless here. (21/47)
48. You know how to slip, slop, slap like it's nobody's business.
• "Budapest? I never even heard of that." (21/48)
49. You've heard the Prime Minister dismiss anyone who disagrees with him simply as "un-Australian," and that's enough to make us sit down and shut up.
• Un-Australian is the Aussie ace card, able to rationalize any behavior. I've seen it first hand. Many nights, it's been the reason to stay at the pub for one more. (22/49)
50. You know that the value of a public holiday is measured in terms of alcohol. God bless the queen and her 4-day birthday.
• Tomorrow is a public holiday, but for once, the pubs are closed. Good Friday ain't good for the Aussies. (23/50) Oh, and 46 percent won't make me an Aussie. Which is fine, frankly. There's no point in declaring full allegiance to a country that hasn't yet released the new DBT album.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Keno And Keno Rules
Keno is a game that is similar to Lotto.
Although the word "keno" has French or Latin roots [Fr. quine five winning numbers],
it was first introduced in China many years ago. It is said that the game originated in ancient China in the Han Dynasty between 205 and 187 B.C. It is even believed that its widespread popularity helped raise funds to build the Great Wall. Finally, it was the Chinese immigrants who came to work in the mines and on the railroad that brought the game to America in the 19th century.
It is a very popular game and is in fact, very easy to play. The fun part is that it is an exciting pastime and most importantly, it offers the possibility of winning large payouts on relatively small wagers.
Now what exactly is this modern version of Keno?
The modern game of keno uses 80 numbered ping-pong balls and every game, the house draws 20 balls at random and displays their numbers on these screens [ called keno boards or Keno monitors ] located throughout the casino.
As Keno is generally played in casinos and there are many television screens placed all around the casino halls to keep players informed.
The object of the game is for the player to guess some of the numbers that the house will draw. The player makes his/ her guesses by marking a Keno ticket, a piece of paper with the numbers 1 through to 80 printed on it. Keno tickets are located at tables throughout the casino but are most readily found in the casino's Keno lounge. The Keno lounge is a room or area with chairs to sit and write with crayons provided for marking the ticket.
You can mark a ticket, anywhere from 1 to 15 (more in some places) numbers. The more numbers you mark the more you have to “catch” to win. In dollar terms, the payoffs for the house percentage is pretty much the same regardless of how many numbers you mark.
But, one of the important factors is that before you go marking a ticket, you must need to decide how much money you intend to gamble on the ticket.
Normally, you are likely to find several copies of the house's Keno brochure, which tells you what the standard bets and payouts. Generally, at any point in time, all casinos tend to have similar betting / payoff scales, but there are times, when there are various "house specials" available.
Now, simply mark a blank Keno ticket with the numbers that you want and present it to the Keno desk with your wager and the clerk will give you a duplicate ticket.
Within minutes, 20 numbered Keno balls will be drawn at random from a barrel containing 80 numbered balls, and if enough of your selected numbers are drawn and the results would be displayed on the screens.
While in some casinos, the minimum bets can be 5 cents, some of them only accept bets of $1 or more. The house's Keno brochures give you information about payoffs and various tickets you can play.
The money you win is dependent upon the type of ticket you play with and the number of 'spots' you catch. There are instances where you could win as much as $50,000 on a $1 wager in some casinos.
There is also the video version of Keno, where there are slots, with coin operated machines and it plays using the same principle with similar rules of the regular Keno, but you get the results much faster. Although, video keno offers the same odds as regular keno, the payoff scale may vary from the casino norm.
A sample game
For example, let's say you decide to play a $1 6-spot. Now what would be the basic rules for it?
You would first find or pick a blank keno ticket, get yourself a crayon and cross out your 6 choices, using a plain X. On the right side of the ticket write "$1" and you would write 6 beneath the “$1” so as to indicate that you are playing a 6-spot. Although this may be not necessary, it is used for cross-checking by the dealer, as well as being important when playing combination tickets.
After having marked your ticket, you then bring it to a dealer [who incidentally is also called a “writer’)] and who is generally situated at the front of the keno lounge. It would look more like a bank with teller windows and a stand in line
Now hand over your ticket and the money to the dealer. The “writer” would make a computer copy of your ticket, and after retaining the original, would return the copy. It is your duty to verify the copy with the original, prior to leaving the dealer window. This is because, just in case of a huge win, the house would have to verify that you did mark those numbers on the original ticket that you had given the “writer”. This also saves as an anti counterfeiting measure as they index and save the original tickets and would search through them if you made a big win.
Once you obtain your tickets, you would have to wait for the rest of the players to buy theirs, until the house declares the game as “closed”. After which, all the original tickets are collected and located in front of a video camera as a security measure. Then, the balls are mixed in the hopper and one of the dealers opens the portals chose the balls. One after another, the dealer calls out the numbers and flicks the switch that makes the number to flash on the keno board.
After the last, i.e., the 20th number is chosen, the dealers return to their stations and the few winners rush in to cash in, while the rest of the pack plan their strategy for the next game.
Although the word "keno" has French or Latin roots [Fr. quine five winning numbers],
it was first introduced in China many years ago. It is said that the game originated in ancient China in the Han Dynasty between 205 and 187 B.C. It is even believed that its widespread popularity helped raise funds to build the Great Wall. Finally, it was the Chinese immigrants who came to work in the mines and on the railroad that brought the game to America in the 19th century.
It is a very popular game and is in fact, very easy to play. The fun part is that it is an exciting pastime and most importantly, it offers the possibility of winning large payouts on relatively small wagers.
Now what exactly is this modern version of Keno?
The modern game of keno uses 80 numbered ping-pong balls and every game, the house draws 20 balls at random and displays their numbers on these screens [ called keno boards or Keno monitors ] located throughout the casino.
As Keno is generally played in casinos and there are many television screens placed all around the casino halls to keep players informed.
The object of the game is for the player to guess some of the numbers that the house will draw. The player makes his/ her guesses by marking a Keno ticket, a piece of paper with the numbers 1 through to 80 printed on it. Keno tickets are located at tables throughout the casino but are most readily found in the casino's Keno lounge. The Keno lounge is a room or area with chairs to sit and write with crayons provided for marking the ticket.
You can mark a ticket, anywhere from 1 to 15 (more in some places) numbers. The more numbers you mark the more you have to “catch” to win. In dollar terms, the payoffs for the house percentage is pretty much the same regardless of how many numbers you mark.
But, one of the important factors is that before you go marking a ticket, you must need to decide how much money you intend to gamble on the ticket.
Normally, you are likely to find several copies of the house's Keno brochure, which tells you what the standard bets and payouts. Generally, at any point in time, all casinos tend to have similar betting / payoff scales, but there are times, when there are various "house specials" available.
Now, simply mark a blank Keno ticket with the numbers that you want and present it to the Keno desk with your wager and the clerk will give you a duplicate ticket.
Within minutes, 20 numbered Keno balls will be drawn at random from a barrel containing 80 numbered balls, and if enough of your selected numbers are drawn and the results would be displayed on the screens.
While in some casinos, the minimum bets can be 5 cents, some of them only accept bets of $1 or more. The house's Keno brochures give you information about payoffs and various tickets you can play.
The money you win is dependent upon the type of ticket you play with and the number of 'spots' you catch. There are instances where you could win as much as $50,000 on a $1 wager in some casinos.
There is also the video version of Keno, where there are slots, with coin operated machines and it plays using the same principle with similar rules of the regular Keno, but you get the results much faster. Although, video keno offers the same odds as regular keno, the payoff scale may vary from the casino norm.
A sample game
For example, let's say you decide to play a $1 6-spot. Now what would be the basic rules for it?
You would first find or pick a blank keno ticket, get yourself a crayon and cross out your 6 choices, using a plain X. On the right side of the ticket write "$1" and you would write 6 beneath the “$1” so as to indicate that you are playing a 6-spot. Although this may be not necessary, it is used for cross-checking by the dealer, as well as being important when playing combination tickets.
After having marked your ticket, you then bring it to a dealer [who incidentally is also called a “writer’)] and who is generally situated at the front of the keno lounge. It would look more like a bank with teller windows and a stand in line
Now hand over your ticket and the money to the dealer. The “writer” would make a computer copy of your ticket, and after retaining the original, would return the copy. It is your duty to verify the copy with the original, prior to leaving the dealer window. This is because, just in case of a huge win, the house would have to verify that you did mark those numbers on the original ticket that you had given the “writer”. This also saves as an anti counterfeiting measure as they index and save the original tickets and would search through them if you made a big win.
Once you obtain your tickets, you would have to wait for the rest of the players to buy theirs, until the house declares the game as “closed”. After which, all the original tickets are collected and located in front of a video camera as a security measure. Then, the balls are mixed in the hopper and one of the dealers opens the portals chose the balls. One after another, the dealer calls out the numbers and flicks the switch that makes the number to flash on the keno board.
After the last, i.e., the 20th number is chosen, the dealers return to their stations and the few winners rush in to cash in, while the rest of the pack plan their strategy for the next game.
Friday, February 13, 2009
The Proxy Father
The Smiths had no children and decided to use a proxy father to start their family.
On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, 'I'm off. The man should be here soon.'
Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. 'Good morning, madam. You don't know me but I've come to....'
'Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you,' Mrs. Smith cut in.
'Really ?' the photographer asked. 'Well, good! I've made a specialty of babies.'
'That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. Just where do we start?' asked Mrs. Smith, blushing.
'Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out.'
'Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for Harry and me.'
'Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results.'
'I hope we can get this over with quickly,' gasped Mrs. Smith.
'Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I'd love to be in and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure.'
'Don't I know!' Mrs. Smith exclaimed. The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. 'This was done on the top of a bus in downtown London.'
'Oh my god!!', Mrs. Smith exclaimed, tugging at her handkerchief.
'And these twins turned out exceptionally well when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with.' The photographer handed Mrs. Smith the picture.
'She was difficult ?' asked Mrs. Smith.
'Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Hyde Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing to get a good look.'
'Four and five deep?' asked Mrs. Smith, eyes widened in amazement.
'Yes,' the photographer said.
'And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. I could hardly concentrate. Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots.'
Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, 'I just packed it all in.' Mrs. Smith leaned forward.
'You mean they actually chewed on your, eh......equipment ?'
'That's right. Well madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so that we can get to work.'
'Tripod??', Mrs. Smith looked extremely worried now.
'Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me to hold while I'm getting ready for action.
Madam ? Madam?..... Good Lord, she's fainted!'
On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, 'I'm off. The man should be here soon.'
Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. 'Good morning, madam. You don't know me but I've come to....'
'Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you,' Mrs. Smith cut in.
'Really ?' the photographer asked. 'Well, good! I've made a specialty of babies.'
'That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. Just where do we start?' asked Mrs. Smith, blushing.
'Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out.'
'Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for Harry and me.'
'Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results.'
'I hope we can get this over with quickly,' gasped Mrs. Smith.
'Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I'd love to be in and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure.'
'Don't I know!' Mrs. Smith exclaimed. The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. 'This was done on the top of a bus in downtown London.'
'Oh my god!!', Mrs. Smith exclaimed, tugging at her handkerchief.
'And these twins turned out exceptionally well when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with.' The photographer handed Mrs. Smith the picture.
'She was difficult ?' asked Mrs. Smith.
'Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Hyde Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing to get a good look.'
'Four and five deep?' asked Mrs. Smith, eyes widened in amazement.
'Yes,' the photographer said.
'And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. I could hardly concentrate. Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots.'
Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, 'I just packed it all in.' Mrs. Smith leaned forward.
'You mean they actually chewed on your, eh......equipment ?'
'That's right. Well madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so that we can get to work.'
'Tripod??', Mrs. Smith looked extremely worried now.
'Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me to hold while I'm getting ready for action.
Madam ? Madam?..... Good Lord, she's fainted!'
Friday, December 19, 2008
More regulation will create more panic
The capitalist fat cat has long held a treasured place in popular demonology. Russians used to deride casino capitalism before showing us how to do it really well - by playing with the house's money. British trade union leaders castigated the City of London even as it created jobs at many times the pace at which their own mulish Luddism destroyed them.
Even for Americans - perhaps especially for Americans - Wall Street has been the target of popular revulsion and caricature almost since the first banks opened in Lower Manhattan. From William Jennings Bryan's philippics against the “idle holders of idle capital” in 1896 to Michael Douglas' portrayal of Gordon “Greed is Good” Gekko almost a century later, the susceptibility of the American public consciousness to the perceived cupidity and selfishness of Wall Street is every bit as acute as that of any European.
When crises unfold and the idlers and greed merchants get their comeuppance, the instant reaction is a mix of anger and Schadenfreude. The public experiences a sort of Kübler-Ross style progression through the various stages of socialist grievance.
The inner Marxist rather enjoys the spectacle of rich bankers becoming victims of their own unsustainable excess, proof of the inevitable internal contradictions of the market process. Picture editors never tire of those photographs of some trader holding his head in his hands as the numbers on the screen behind him bleed red.
Then the inner Stalinist takes over and rages at the injustice of it all. How dare these Masters of the Universe with their Porsches and their incomprehensible gobbledygook bring us to our knees? Annihilate the options traders!
Finally, we get to the inner Leninist, surveying the economic wreckage and calmly insisting that Something Must be Done.
That is roughly where we are now in the Great Panic of 2008.
There is a compelling narrative that spans the transatlantic political space - all the way from Barack Obama through John McCain to the Labour Left and, for all I know, the British Conservatives too.
We got into this mess, it says, because we unleashed the forces of free-market capitalism. This is what you get when you let the animal spirits loose. We bought too willingly into all that 1980s ideology of deregulation and the primacy of markets. Government bowed out of the business of supervising and constraining the financial system. We need to realise the destructive folly of free markets and put the Government back in control. It's a convenient and compelling narrative but is deeply flawed both in its historical account and its prescription.
First, the mess we're in cannot simply be ascribed to an insufficiency of government intervention. It's true that some better regulation would have helped but in important respects there has been way too much government intervention.
Take the US mortgage market at the heart of the present crisis. One of the largest sources of the problem is the role of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, the giant US mortgage companies, government-sponsored enterprises that hold or guarantee almost half of America's $11 trillion mortgage market. They facilitated much of the explosion of the mortgage-backed securities market in the US and they did so because investors always believed that these oddly public-private hybrids carried an implicit government guarantee. (They were right.)
Critics gave warning repeatedly that if they were not scaled back they would threaten the stability of the whole financial system. (They were right again.)
The idea that these two collapsing behemoths somehow represent a failure of the market is about as plausible as saying that the collapsing boxer falling to his knees somehow represents a failure of the canvas.
Nor is it the case, as capitalism's critics maintain, that the regulatory structure has been dismantled. On the contrary, the US system of financial regulation has been built up over the years into a staggering skyscraper of rules and institutions that induce a sort of governing paralysis.
The regulatory framework is not too small. It is a mess, multiplicated in many areas among different state and federal agencies, and completely lacking in others. It is developed on a base that was created in the 1930s to deal with a wholly different financial environment. Most of those still extant rules that deal, for example with commercial banks, are redundant, while others that should be in place to deal, for example, with investment banks, are not there.
Or take the UK model - please, take the UK model. Tripartite regulation between the Treasury, the Bank of England and the Financial Services Authority was a work of genius - until someone rediscovered the old truth that when you have three people in charge of something no one is really in charge. Again this is not lack of regulation. It is the wrong sort of regulation, misdirected, incoherent and in some respects, excessive.
Or consider another example in which tight regulation is actually hampering economic recovery. Under international financial rules, banks are required to maintain a core capital base as a proportion of their total balance sheet. But in a financial catastrophe, as capital dwindles and assets become riskier, those rules require banks to cut their lending and investments, driving deeper into the vicious circle
The need is not for more regulation but for more relevant regulation, a more intelligent and targeted role for government that acknowledges the essential wisdom of markets but acts to protect the weakest from their excesses.
That might certainly mean a more active role for supervisors in examining bank balance sheets. But it is more likely to require not aggressive government intervention, but simply the insistence on better provision of information to avoid the chaos created in the past year because investors didn't have a clue about the quality of many of the assets that they held. And in some respects it might even require less public involvement in, or restraint of, the economy: for example, the dismantling of the US mortgage giants and perhaps less onerous restrictions on bank lending when the economy is contracting.
We certainly don't need a system based on the wholly implausible proposition that, in the end, government knows better than people. We should resist at all costs the historically challenged claim that politicians, or the officials they appoint, can possibly know better than free, liquid, well-informed markets in which, every day, hundreds of millions of people put their own money on the line to choose their own future.
Even for Americans - perhaps especially for Americans - Wall Street has been the target of popular revulsion and caricature almost since the first banks opened in Lower Manhattan. From William Jennings Bryan's philippics against the “idle holders of idle capital” in 1896 to Michael Douglas' portrayal of Gordon “Greed is Good” Gekko almost a century later, the susceptibility of the American public consciousness to the perceived cupidity and selfishness of Wall Street is every bit as acute as that of any European.
When crises unfold and the idlers and greed merchants get their comeuppance, the instant reaction is a mix of anger and Schadenfreude. The public experiences a sort of Kübler-Ross style progression through the various stages of socialist grievance.
The inner Marxist rather enjoys the spectacle of rich bankers becoming victims of their own unsustainable excess, proof of the inevitable internal contradictions of the market process. Picture editors never tire of those photographs of some trader holding his head in his hands as the numbers on the screen behind him bleed red.
Then the inner Stalinist takes over and rages at the injustice of it all. How dare these Masters of the Universe with their Porsches and their incomprehensible gobbledygook bring us to our knees? Annihilate the options traders!
Finally, we get to the inner Leninist, surveying the economic wreckage and calmly insisting that Something Must be Done.
That is roughly where we are now in the Great Panic of 2008.
There is a compelling narrative that spans the transatlantic political space - all the way from Barack Obama through John McCain to the Labour Left and, for all I know, the British Conservatives too.
We got into this mess, it says, because we unleashed the forces of free-market capitalism. This is what you get when you let the animal spirits loose. We bought too willingly into all that 1980s ideology of deregulation and the primacy of markets. Government bowed out of the business of supervising and constraining the financial system. We need to realise the destructive folly of free markets and put the Government back in control. It's a convenient and compelling narrative but is deeply flawed both in its historical account and its prescription.
First, the mess we're in cannot simply be ascribed to an insufficiency of government intervention. It's true that some better regulation would have helped but in important respects there has been way too much government intervention.
Take the US mortgage market at the heart of the present crisis. One of the largest sources of the problem is the role of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, the giant US mortgage companies, government-sponsored enterprises that hold or guarantee almost half of America's $11 trillion mortgage market. They facilitated much of the explosion of the mortgage-backed securities market in the US and they did so because investors always believed that these oddly public-private hybrids carried an implicit government guarantee. (They were right.)
Critics gave warning repeatedly that if they were not scaled back they would threaten the stability of the whole financial system. (They were right again.)
The idea that these two collapsing behemoths somehow represent a failure of the market is about as plausible as saying that the collapsing boxer falling to his knees somehow represents a failure of the canvas.
Nor is it the case, as capitalism's critics maintain, that the regulatory structure has been dismantled. On the contrary, the US system of financial regulation has been built up over the years into a staggering skyscraper of rules and institutions that induce a sort of governing paralysis.
The regulatory framework is not too small. It is a mess, multiplicated in many areas among different state and federal agencies, and completely lacking in others. It is developed on a base that was created in the 1930s to deal with a wholly different financial environment. Most of those still extant rules that deal, for example with commercial banks, are redundant, while others that should be in place to deal, for example, with investment banks, are not there.
Or take the UK model - please, take the UK model. Tripartite regulation between the Treasury, the Bank of England and the Financial Services Authority was a work of genius - until someone rediscovered the old truth that when you have three people in charge of something no one is really in charge. Again this is not lack of regulation. It is the wrong sort of regulation, misdirected, incoherent and in some respects, excessive.
Or consider another example in which tight regulation is actually hampering economic recovery. Under international financial rules, banks are required to maintain a core capital base as a proportion of their total balance sheet. But in a financial catastrophe, as capital dwindles and assets become riskier, those rules require banks to cut their lending and investments, driving deeper into the vicious circle
The need is not for more regulation but for more relevant regulation, a more intelligent and targeted role for government that acknowledges the essential wisdom of markets but acts to protect the weakest from their excesses.
That might certainly mean a more active role for supervisors in examining bank balance sheets. But it is more likely to require not aggressive government intervention, but simply the insistence on better provision of information to avoid the chaos created in the past year because investors didn't have a clue about the quality of many of the assets that they held. And in some respects it might even require less public involvement in, or restraint of, the economy: for example, the dismantling of the US mortgage giants and perhaps less onerous restrictions on bank lending when the economy is contracting.
We certainly don't need a system based on the wholly implausible proposition that, in the end, government knows better than people. We should resist at all costs the historically challenged claim that politicians, or the officials they appoint, can possibly know better than free, liquid, well-informed markets in which, every day, hundreds of millions of people put their own money on the line to choose their own future.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Does London Have the Best Indian Food ?
Better quality meat, fish and vegetables could very well put London ahead of any Indian city when it comes to high end Indian food. World renowned London-based Michelin star Indian chef, Atul Kochhar and the owner of the Benares Restaurant, a high-end Indian restaurant in the exclusive Mayfair area of central London said India needed to reform and reorganise its farming industry, so consumers and caterers had reliable access to fresh produce.
Watch out - be warned! Chefs in India could lose their cutting edge in preparing top quality Indian food to chefs in London.
Atul Kochhar is one of the few Michelin star Indian chefs. He warns that if India's farming industry is not reorganised - London will become the center of Indian cuisine in terms of quality.
It's not because of lack of good skill, or lack of good spices. It's purely because of lack of excellent ingredients. India doesn't have excellent ingredients in terms of fish, meat or vegetables, he says. Back in 2001 Kochhar became the first Indian chef to be awarded the highly coveted Michelin star. Kochhar is looking to return to India and open up restaurants. His biggest worry however is getting a regular supply fresh food.
The lamb farming has to be niche. The vegetable farming has to be amazingly good. All those things are there, but there is no organized effort in India he says
It wont be surprising that more Indian chefs will be awarded Michelin stars in the near future as the reputation of the Indian chefs in the city are growing.
There are more people conducting business with Indians. They are trying to understand the culture and cuisine better now and hence the recognition.
Kochhar says the corner curry house which churns unique English scorchers such as 'chicken tikka masala', or 'balti chicken' - are on the decline. It in fact, was never an authentic cuisine. I call that British Indian food - because that's how brutish people liked it. That's why they were cooking it and thats why it went on for so long. The curry house will always be part of the British landscape
Incredibly there are 1000 plus new restaurants that open every year in Britain, more than any other kind of business, unfortunately around 850 to 900 close within a year. It’s a dream that every couple has entertained. Why? Because secretly they all think that it’s so simple and that they could do it.
They think that as they know the mindset and what people like to eat, what they only wanted is the money and the opportunity.
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