Sometimes, when you think about happiness, you think about things you've enjoyed in the past. Enjoyed in a way which, when you remember them, gives you a warm fuzzy feeling. Memories like these are good to keep around.

A few years ago, I stood looking down at the vineyards below me. I could see cars moving around like ants a little further, where the outskirts of town began. The sky was totally cloudless, that shade of blue you usually only see in high-budget photographs of expensive properties. The air was hot enough for a drop of sweat to form on my chin, just waiting to drip onto my arm. There was very little sound, I was above the pine forest and the animals in it. I was alone at the top of a very long climb.

At that moment, I looked down at my bike, lent onto my handlebar, and smiled.

Happiness can be selfishly attained, I thought. Without wealth, without romance, without any large degree of material success. Without relying on anyone but oneself.

As I turned around to head back down into the valley below, I thought about what I'd just accomplished. I thought about how I'd reached the top of a hellishly steep and high climb with nothing but my own motive power, how the bike below me converted every ounce of energy I'd given it into forward motion. How the meticulous attention I paid to drivetrain setup and the proportionate adjustment of my seat, my pedals, my handlebar, was affecting how quickly I could get to the top (and the bottom, after that). I thought about my suspension, about how much time I'd spent tweaking the spring and dampening rates, about how my tire pressure was affecting how I was drifting sideways across the pine needles below me.

Cycling - in all its forms - has always made me happy, ever since I rode without side-wheels for the first time when I was 2. Everything about it thrills me, from pushing further and harder than I thought was possible, to setting a bike up with the ridiculous attention to detail I'm regularly mocked about, to the way I feel completely drained and hungry for muesli and yoghurt (strange, I know) after a long ride.

And so, a little while ago, I decided I was going to spend more time, money and effort on stuff that I know makes me happy. Mountain biking, and my serious return to it, is the start.

Check out my new toy

Some define it in the way something around their neck sparkles in the morning light. Some see it as the degree of isolation they can achieve from the ho-hum of traffic. Others find it in the fit around their waist. Many believe it to be in the effectiveness of their differentiation from those less capable. Some even find it in the taste of a glass too costly to waste a drop of.

Me? I like stuff I can feel.

In the world of sleep, there's linen. There's also 100% cotton linen. Then, there's 100% cotton percale, which is cotton with a thread count of at least 200. On the end of the scale however, there's 400 thread count Egyptian cotton.

Oh yes.

Forget about spending money on jewellery, executive transport, designer shoes or single malt whiskey. Lay yourself down in the plush environment of high thread count Egyptian cotton, and all that other stuff will seem silly as you drift away into dreamland. It's hard to describe how the feelings of crispness and softness can go together, but they just do. It's awesome. Seriously, you haven't slept until you've slept in this stuff.

Now if you'll excuse me, it's past my bedtime.

A few years ago, I walked down a hallway towards the light, finding myself in a train yard when I emerged from the dark. There was a bold piece of graffiti on the wall in front of me. It said "Find the Freeman".

I thought "And what are you going to do when you do?"

This is what Gordon Freeman would've thought. A silly statement really, because I was Gordon Freeman at that moment...

From the moment I got onto the tram and stepped off at the anomalous materials laboratory, something felt different. I had cold chills running down my spine while diving down into the nuclear reactors in that HEV suit. The clanging sound that MP5 made just before it needed reloading had me sweating. The darkness and echoes inside those ventilation pipes I had to crawl through kept me on the edge of my seat and wide awake for many nights. Those damn marines just plain annoyed me, even though the challenge of picking them off, one by one (using a crossbow) from 100 meters away was quite a thrill. They wanted to "find me". Instead, I found them.

Everyone has an alter ego. At least once in their life. If I were anyone other than myself, I'd be the charismatic theoretical physicist from Black Mesa. Even though I only resemble him slightly (although a bit more with my stubble these days), I can quite convincingly put myself into his shoes at any given moment. At the time when Dr Freeman became a hero, he was 27 years old. So was I. When I embarked on the journey that is Half-Life 2, that is.

I've played adventure and action PC games since I was 5 or 6, but even though many have kept me entertained over the years, nothing compares to the kind of enthrallment I experienced when I first stepped into Gordon's shoes in 1999. Half-Life changed my world, enriching it with so much imagination and adventure that I've been dreaming about encountering the same kind of challenges Gordon faced ever since. The Half-Life world (specifically the Black Mesa facility) is incredibly expansive, so expansive that I lay awake at night trying to create a map in my mind, only mildly successfully. The storyline was so captivating you couldn't help but daydream about what was going to happen next. Freeman became a hero, not because of having special abilities, but because of what he did. And much there was to do; it's not every day you get to witness the kind of chaos a catastrophic resonance cascade can cause.

Now where's that MP5?

To my amazement I have heard that there are people who have never seen a gnome. I can't help pitying these people. I am certain there must be something wrong with their eyesight.

- Axel Munthe

Besides never having seen a gnome, many people don't know these interesting facts about them:

• The average gnome (at roughly 275 years of age) is 15cm tall from the tip of his toes to the top of his head. I have in past told people that it's "to the tip of his hat". My mistake.
• Gnomes in general have 95 million sensory smell cells. That's almost as much as a Daschund, and 19 times as much as the average human.
• Apparently all male gnomes receive cuckoo clocks as wedding gifts. You won't find a gnome residence without one.
• Siberian gnomes are inbred, hang out with trolls often, and aren't all that nice. They scare me a little, to be honest.
• Gnomes always help wounded animals by treating them with herbal remedies.
• Most gnomes will mumble something about "feeling it in your bones" when you ask them how they're able to predict the weather so accurately. Don't believe them, they actually determine air humidity and approaching low-pressure systems by the position of the stomata found on the underside of leaves: an oak leaf has 58000 stomata per square centimeter. The gnome, with his sharp eyes, is capable of seeing, just by looking at the leaf, if the stomata are open or shut and thus making his calculations - without the aid of computers, of course.

I'm fine thanks, and you?

I bet you said that at least 10 times today. Maybe more. No one flinched.

Now change the sentence construction just ever so slightly:

I'm fine thanks. (pause) Tell me, how are you?

Notice the effect?

Semantics, gotta love it.

I recently decided that it was time I teach myself how to cook. I mean really cook, not pretend to. As appetising as crumbed chicken breasts and veggies defrosted on the stovetop are, they don't quite rival a good bobotie (yum) or an expertly prepared pot roast. I've been wading through a standard-issue 5-yearly life assessment cum stock-take (as one tends to do) during the last month or so, and realised that cooking skills were conspicuously absent from my resumé. This is just not on.

So, I'm busy gathering copious amounts of information on the art of food, in the hope that at least a small portion will translate into actual flavour. Statistically speaking, this is a solid assumption, right?

As with most things, experimentation is a key element of the learning experience (as is the desire to learn in the first place). Being the smart-ass that I am, I decided this weekend that I'd start my experimentation with dessert. Hah, who said hors d'oeuvres come first? And so, I present my first self-invented dish, ostentatiously called "sweet fried citrus slivers". So simple really:

2x Persimmons (ripe) - I found a punnet at Woolworths, apparently they're not all that common
2x Bananas (ripe)
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon butter or margarine
Ice cream
Syrup

1. Heat a frying pan until it's hot (note my conspicious amateur status)
2. Melt the butter/margarine and spread evenly
3. Slice the persimmons as thinly as possible, cutting each sliver in half again
4. Sprinkle each slice with cinnamon on one side only
5. Stir-fry for roughly 5 minutes, or until slight browning starts to occur on both sides
6. Slice bananas about 1cm thick and add to pan
7. Continue to stir-fry for about 2 minutes
8. Remove, add ice cream and a small squirt of syrup
9. Enjoy

Complicated, isn't it? I had no idea something so simple could taste so nice, but now I do. Seriously, you have to try it, it's delicious.

Next stop, dinner.

Continued from part 1...

The subject of my very serious question session this time around is someone who brings eloquence to decomposition (or that's the impression I have at least).

Let's jump straight in and welcome her on stage. Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the frightfully delightful, the scarilicious (I made that up) Mrs Tex Benitez:

Tell us about your hearse. Is it equipped with any cool gadgets, like James Bond's car?

Sadly, no. In fact, it’s about as bog standard as they come: windows you crank by hand, (Dead) Babe on Board sticker on the rear window, a little gold trim here and there, but really, nothing to flutter a pulse over. It shipped with a lifelong supply of those pine-scented air freshener tags - and a little nodding dog in a neck brace, of course - but no passenger airbags! Not even a margarita-holder! I briefly considered adding 'go-faster' stripes to the bonnet but, you know, once you’ve settled into that Lux Interior®, what's the hurry?

I'm thinking of saving up for an ambulance.

What's your favourite shape of knife and why?

Naturally, most people take me for a 'stiletto', or 'machete' kind of woman but, in fact, I rarely leave home without the Swiss Army of Darkness® pocket knife I borrowed from Virgil after he used it to tunnel out of summer camp three years in a row. It has a cute little melon baller attachment and one of those things you use to remove stones from, er... things with stones in them. You won't believe how useful I've found it over the years.

I haven't been able to pick up any spelling mistakes in your writing. Is someone holding a sword over your head?

Mother claims it was a dark and stormy night, I vaguely recall a crossroads... and, forgive me, I'm a little hazy here... I’m pretty sure a firstborn changed hands and, yes... yes, that’s right, Microlytics rolled out their first spell checker shortly thereafter. You may have heard of it.

When last did you speak to Elvis?

Elvis? I had a landscaper named El Vez, once. He did wonderful things to my aspidistras. We're not actually allowed to communicate with each other these days. Unless it's through a State-approved medium. Mother used to be a medium. Now she's a large. Boom-boom! I'm terribly sorry... where was I?

Mrs Tex Benitez. Is it really Mrs, or just a clever ploy to dissuade drooling zombies from making marriage proposals?

I've had my fair share of suitors who would, I suspect, love nothing more than to nibble my earlobes and whisper "braaaaiiiins" as they fumble with my stays, but ever since my Tex – that's Mr. Benitez - met with his unfortunate pastrami accident, I just haven't felt the same about 'interviewing' the hired help behind the conservatory. At least, not until I find the webcam I know he had installed.

Still, there is a gentleman caller that I've been keeping an eye (and my hands) on of late. A couple more years of conditioning and I might even let him out of the basement.

So I'm a big fan of lists. I never was, but I became one over the last few years, thanks to OneNote (but that's a story for another day).

In the mood for fun (and in my never-ending quest for enlightenment), I set up a list of 5 questions for two fascinating personalities whose writing I've been thoroughly enjoying lately. First up is the Ex Wrangler of Grannies, who so kindly was willing to put up with my silliness. She's really kind, actually. So kind that my comment on this piece of writing of hers was "If seduction could occur via adjectives, I'd be naked on the floor by noun."

Without further ado:

Who drew your underwear?

First off, bless you for not calling them 'panties'. They were 'dreamt and drawn' by me and are modelled on a few key pieces i have lurking in my knicker drawer. The Japanese symbol is a sneaky little tattoo placed somewhere on my body.

You seem to swear a lot when you write (like your title says). Is this because of having been around grannies all the time - you know, because you have to restrain yourself during work hours?

Fuck yes.

What's your favourite adjective and why?

Heinous. Torpid. Lackadaisical. They're fun to say and not many people know what they mean. Ever read The Superior Person's Book Of Words? That book was written for me.

Do you think Harry Potter is hot?

Snape i could devour. Potter, not so much.

Back to the underwear (sorry)... Do you really wear sketched underwear? I mean, isn't it uncomfortable?

I'm always a bit sketchy on underwear ;)

The moment you walk through the door (or what isn't really a door, but an ingenious set of swivelling metal plates), you feel it. The texture, that is. It's not quite rough, but not quite so refined that it could fit into a restaurant chic enough for the type of girls you know can only be kept happy by apple martinis and Ferraris. Rather, it's a texture that feels like it's been around for a while. On the floor, it's been walked over by your grandmother on her way to the stove to tend a delicious stew. On the walls, it's been purposefully left in a state which says "I know what my purpose is: to shield you from the elements". On the assortment of plush couches, it invites you to sprawl out in the kind of comfort you appreciate on a cold winter's evening, with the wind howling outside. The texture's everywhere, even more pronouncedly so in the art which lives in the in-house gallery.

Set against a backdrop of careful minimalism, the Karoo Cafe invites you to enjoy food the way you would at home. You wouldn't be nervous about strolling over to browse the bookshelf while waiting for your partner at home, and aren't in the Cafe either. While you do, casually mention to the waiter at hand that a drink would be nice. You'll be politely answered without the stiffness you'd expect in what people sometimes call "upmarket venues". Why? Because you're just asking for a drink, which your host is just gladly providing . Want to sit down? Do so without pressure, because there's always room to spare - the Cafe doesn't subscribe to conventional populism, it doesn't need to. It doesn't need to do a lot of things, not least among them pretend to be anything it isn't - a fact which is clearly evident in your experience. There are no claims of cordon bleu perfection. No claims of being the place to be seen. No claims of being chic or hip or hot or happening. Rather, the collection of people who regularly enjoy the relaxed atmosphere are just themselves, like the Cafe itself. Which means (logically really) that you're also free to be, well, just yourself. No need to dress up, down, sideways or any other direction. You see, not being yourself dictates that things be artificially manipulated, that those little nuggets of character which are always so rewarding to find be polished out. It dictates that texture be removed. Luckily, texture cannot be removed from what you experience at the Cafe; it's part of the place, and you can't help but feel it.

The Karoo Cafe, Lynnwood Road, Pretoria
0724080909

...now that winter is here.

I'm not usually a meme fan, but since Victoire asked so nicely...

• Take a stroll in the forest after it's rained - There are few things as refreshing as being in nature after it's taken a nice bath. That smell of wet bark, the sounds of birds frolicking in puddles of water, the crispness in the air. Love it. Wait, did I just use the word "frolicking"?
  
  
• Catch a sunrise - Yes, it means getting up really early for a change (admittedly a tough thing to do when it's freezing), but then again the tougher something is to get, the more rewarding it tends to be. Preferably done on a day without rain.
  
  
• Read. On the couch. Under a fluffy blanket - Diving into a good book is always nice, but even more so when it's done in plush warmth with the wind and rain howling outside.
  
  
• Slip your feet into a pair of sheepskin wool slippers - I received a pair as a birthday gift last year. Slipping into these puppies after a hot shower is to your feet what a nice warm hug is to your soul.
  
  
• Give a nice warm hug - Need I say more?

So there I was, ripping apart the remains of the top of the cabinet. The detached bottom part was being transformed (by way of some sawing, sanding,wood filling and painting) into my brand new TV unit/stand.

As I pulled the pieces of chipboard and laminate apart, one of the shelves tilted over and fell onto my foot. The series of nails protruding from it flashed through my thoughts as it hit my shoe, puncturing the soft canvas on top and sticking straight through. Oh shit. I felt a sting, and was convinced that one of the nails had gone straight through my big toe. Adrenaline has a habit of numbing pain, apparently... I scurried to remove my shoe and sock, and as I did so (expecting a gush of blood), there was only a slight graze down the side of my toe. The nail had missed it by literally a millimetre.

For the next 30 minutes, I painstakingly pulled out or flattened every single nail and staple on every single piece of wood. Lots of them, in case you were wondering. Even though everything was going to be discarded as building rubble the next day, I felt compelled to remove the danger from this heap of junk. It wasn't someone else's problem to prevent harm to others, it was mine.

Something similar happens every time a taxi drives past me and a passenger carelessly tosses a plastic wrapper out the window. I wonder what they're thinking. It's always puzzled me. Over the last few years, I've come to the conclusion that most people spend less time thinking about things than I previously assumed. I wanted to ask "why?", but then I realised that it might actually be a better idea to ask "why do I think so much about things?"...

You see, whenever I see something out of the ordinary happen, whenever I meet someone interesting, whenever I discover a new concept, whenever I stumble across something I can see has been carefully crafted, I think about it. I don't just think, I consider in-depth. I try to understand the story behind the event, the history behind the person, the logic behind the concept, the motivation behind the craft. If I don't understand it at first, I try to find out more; and then I do a little more thinking. I want to know how and when. I want to know where. Most importantly, I intensely want to know why. It's never-ending for me, this curiosity. It's subconscious. When I'm walking down the road on an average day, I'll be trying to figure out how to better explain point A to Person X, when I walk back I'll be trying to make sure that what I've decided is correct before I put things into action. As silly as it sounds, it's always been this way for me, it's always been a way of doing I've cherished. I don't quite know why, but I do know that I really want to know why. I guess it's simple really:

I do not want to be indifferent, ever.

Right now, I've been told that I need to be indifferent. Something has happened in my life that has prompted me into trying to shift my mindset towards being less curious about the "why", to be less involved. I've been making a serious, concerted attempt to stop this involvement and consideration. I've failed so far.

I refuse to not let things affect me, to disregard them. I refuse to not continue to be curious about the why, even though I know that I may not understand it. I accept the reality of the situation (after all, reality cannot be faked), but I refuse to distance myself from the matter at hand, as much as I've been advised about the wisdom of such a choice. Most of all, with all my heart, I refuse to stop caring just because caring is to my detriment at this point, or at any other point.

I refuse to be indifferent, and will continue to do so.

Seth is not the only one who has a carefully preserved Mercedes-Benz for sale. Thing is just, mine stood boxed for a little while longer than his... Roughly 20 years, in fact... In 1996, it had just 40somethingthousand kilometres on the clock

Interested in driving a classic car in pristine condition, lovingly maintained by only 2 owners over its entire 36 year life? Specs:

1971 Mercedes-Benz 220. Just over 220,000km, quite rare for its age. Cream with tan/black interior, has recently been serviced, runs perfectly.

How much? I'm asking R20,000, but make me an offer and we'll negotiate.

UPDATE: Sold

This is not a Vista review.

This is simply a "wow, it really is pretty up close" note.

After a week on Vista, I continue to be amazed by the skills people in the MS interface design (both Vista and Office) teams have. Vista isn't just pretty, it's downright gorgeous. And not on a "I'm a Photoshop pro, respect my authority!" level either. Nope, it's down to a pixel level. The amount of precision that's gone into small things like icons, toolbars and buttons is just plain astounding. Every little thing is superbly crafted.

Respect.

When I walked out of the cinema after Die Another Day four years ago, I was in what you could call a disillusioned state. It was like I'd finally grown up, and found out that Father Christmas wasn't real. I felt betrayed, like James Bond was a cartoon character, someone fictional and without impact.

Today, I feel differently.

Casino Royale is so good that I can confidently say that it's even better than Goldfinger. Which means that, yep, it's now without a doubt my favourite of the 21 installments.

Bond is back.

No, the year's not really quite over yet, but the idea of sharing a few of my favourite things for 2006 just suddenly appeared in my head.

Let's call it "The d2 Delectability Awards". Yeah, I like the sound of that... And so, without further ado, my favourites:

Software

Microsoft Office 2007, specifically Outlook
Man, I don't know where to start telling you how much Office 12 rocks. Since installing it in March, my day-to-day productivity has literally skyrocketed, all thanks to one little two-part word: "To-Do". Outlook's To-Do bar, combined with calendar entries and reminders synched to my WM5 phone, have completely changed how I get stuff done. It really deserves a full review, so I'll give it one soon.

Entertainment

Prison Break
I've never really been a heavy TV Series watcher, but Michael Scofield and company have changed this. I can't remember anything I've ever watched that has such an unpredictable, on-the-edge-of-your-seat plot as PB. 12 episodes into season 2, it continues to be an absolute thriller, to the point where fights erupt in the office if someone happens to slip something about an episode everyone hasn't seen yet. Awesome.

Food

The "Muesli Munch with fruit yoghurt" from FreshStop
Fruit and Veg City's new fresh delight experience rocks. FreshStop opened 200m from our office halfway through the year, and I was instantly hooked. Where else can you stare at a huge counter full of absolutely fresh (you can see them cutting stuff up) fruit, get someone to mix up whatever varieties you choose, add some muesli and honey, and go and chill on a couch upstairs to enjoy? All for R13.95, no tip required. Yum.

Drink

Chai Frappe at Primi
Iced, sweet goodness, perfect for sharing with someone interesting. Yum again.

Web application

Campaign Monitor
Want to see how a web app should be built? Look no further. CM has quite possibly the slickest interface I've ever used (bearing in mind how powerful it is), and the attention to detail is phenomenal. We power bSOLVe's newsletters (along with a few of our clients') with Campaign Monitor - I won't even consider looking at anything else, it's that good. Did I mention that David and the team rock when it comes to friendly support? Highly recommended.

Blog

Signal vs Noise
I'll admit, I think Jason Fried and the team are pretty smart individuals. Yes, they're blatantly anti-Microsoft, but I guess it's just part of their whole vibe (and a major reason they get so much love from the web 2.0 crowd). The SVN guys have a knack for noticing, understanding and explaining the little things that matter; something I like to do myself, which is probably why I dig what they have to say.

If one thing, the rise of the blogging phenomenon has given us access to people's minds in a way we never imagined possible. Granted, many of these minds are pretty empty, but let's not get into that.

Rather, what I'm referring to is a broad, uncensored view into people's thought patterns. Specifically, to the advantage of both genders I believe, a view into the mind of woman, as never seen before.

This is something not to be taken lightly, and so I thought I'd share with you a few girls who (I suspect) I've gained some insight from over time:

• Peas on Toast
• Rox in the City
• Girlspoke
• Dooce
• The Lush

And, if you're less conservative:

• Girl with a one-track mind

Insight given yes. Actual knowledge derived, no. I still suck just as badly these days at understanding them as ever. Anybody have a clue to what's in those pretty things of theirs they call heads?

* Disclaimer: I'm not going to make any comment about whether I even remotely agree/disagree with the worldview of or like/dislike any the authors above, I simply find what they write insightful. You know, just so I don't get accused of anything.

This is that moment in the story. You know, the moment where the main character's thinking something along the lines of "OK, here we go..."

If you're reading this because you were curious about a newspaper advert, I suppose I need to sketch a little background first. My name is Martin, and this is my website. On it, you'll find a multitude of little snippets I've written over a period of two and a half years. I started writing on here to publish technical articles (I work in the software industry), but have always been intrigued by how much potential the internet holds for connecting people and their thoughts; that's why I quickly switched to writing about all sorts of experiences and personal viewpoints instead. I love the potential for discussion.

Earlier this year, I wrote an article (click to view) about a brief, chance encounter in a shop in Stellenbosch. I made a point of putting the experience down on proverbial paper because, although it seemed silly, I really thought "this is extraordinary". Because I have a habit of noticing small details, this nudging feeling I had fascinated me. It's still fascinating me - which is why I finally decided to give in to a suggestion to place the newspaper advert that lead you to this page, and why I'm writing this right now.

You see, I received a surprising amount of positive encouragement from friends, colleagues and even strangers to the three questions I asked:

• Do I try to track her down?
• How?
• Why?

The dominant question I suppose is "why?". If you have a logical answer for me, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Fortunately, even though I'm generally someone who's partial to logic, something tells me that logic doesn't quite factor in here… My answer to the question is short: Why not? I guess it's that simple really, so there you have it!

If you're reading this, and you know that I'm talking about you, I guess I can ask the one question I wanted to ask really: What's your name?

(Verskoon asb die Engels, daar is baie mense wat maar sukkel met ons lieflike taal wat ek weet ook graag hierdie sou wou lees )

UPDATE: Because Peas on Toast and Cherryflava asked so nicely, here's the ad. Nothing fancy really, placed in the Eikestadnuus August 2nd edition.

It's almost July, and I have our wonderfully sunny and spacious, fully furnished 2 bedroom apartment in Stellenbosch available for anyone who's interested. It’s a 75sqm unit with two full bedrooms (with built-in cupboards), a bathroom with bath/showerdoor and head, and separate toilet. The lounge is spacious, leading onto a huge balcony with sunset views across Papegaaiberg.

There's more: An undercover, inside-the-complex parking bay is included, and there's both a pool and braai area on top of the building as well. Except for a washing machine (there's a laundromat in the building below), all the furniture, appliances and crockery is included. Just move in! How close to campus? An ultra-convenient 600m, perfect for exchange students.

Available beginning July at R4000-00/month (which includes water, but excludes electricity usage).

Interested? Scroll right to the bottom and click on "contact me" (you'll find it in the left column).

So I've had a few complaints from certain parties about the update frequency around here. I'd like to respond as follows:

• This isn't really a blog in the true sense of the word. I just kinda put stuff on here from time to time… Yeah, I'm lazy, I know
• I've been really really busy with some things I can't tell you much about right now. But will, in future.

That being said, I thought it'd be cool to drop in a few screenshots of what I've been playing with over the last while:

Screen 1 - oh yeah

You'd be right if you guessed.. Through the nice people at Microsoft, I recently got my hands on an invite-only Beta 1TR (Technical Refresh) copy of the all-singing, all-dancing OneNote 2007. Remember the previous post? This is the real deal The following are my favourites:

• Live Outlook task & item linking - quickly jotted down something, and need to be reminded? Flag it as a task with the hotkeys (as simple as highlighting anything, and using Ctrl+Shift+1), and presto chango, a task is created in Outlook, in realtime. Use a mobile device running Windows? The reminder gets synced to your device as well… Want to jot down a note on a contact (whether in a public store or locally)? Simply click the "Notes about this item" button, and get a hyperlinked set of notes. Damn useful. More on this in an upcoming post.
• Auto OCR - I thought this was too cool to be true on Chris Pratley's blog. Well, it is cool, and it is actually true. To test it, I casually dragged a scanned magazine article onto OneNote, and amazingly, a search for the article heading actually highlighted the slightly-skewed, blurred text. Holy crap, searchable everything is here.

Screen 2

For the last while, I've been almost exclusively using Internet Explorer 7. Comments by a few smart people got me started, even though I've been using Firefox as my primary browser for the last year or so (reserving IE6 only for testing, and for accessing SharePoint - the current version, which is 4 years old, doesn't render correctly in FF). I'm not moving back. There are a few small things I think could improve, but in my humble opinion, judging from the beta, IE is back on top.

My favourite features in IE7?

• Quick Tabs - When you have more than a few tabs open, the QuickTabs button gives you a screenshot view of all open windows, making finding what you're after oh-so-much quicker. Easy peasy.
• Favourites Center - The way the favourites (little orange star) expand on-screen, and are organised (with collapsible sub-folders) is just very slick. Nothing fancy, but it works better than any previous incarnation I've used.
• Real rendering - At last. Most people agree, the IE team has put in a stellar effort to silence the standards-compliance critics. It's not 100% yet, but they've done more than was expected by a long-shot, and only a small handful of bugs are still left.

Screen 3

I guess I've been riding the beta train lately. Feedreader 3.0 RC1 is the latest version of a free tool that quite honestly does everything I want it to. The interface was already pretty good in previous versions, but 3.0 makes things even simpler. I specifically like the Unread news view, with its collapsible categories and feeds. You can even group by tags and hide all read news in most views. Nicely done.

So I've finished reading Atlas Shrugged, after 3 months.

You think of yourself as a capitalist? I'll leave you with one paragraph from a book that I personally regard as philosophically more significant than the bible:

Did it ever occur to you that there is no conflict of interests among men, neither in business nor in trade nor in their most personal desires - if they omit the irrational from their view of the possible and destruction from their view of the practical? There is no conflict, and no call for sacrifice, and no man is a threat to the aims of another - if men understand that reality is an absolute not to be faked, that lies do not work, that the unearned cannot be had, that the undeserved cannot be given, that the destruction of a value which is, will not bring value to that which isn't. The businessman who wishes to gain a market by throttling a superior competitor, the worker who wants a share of his employer's wealth, the artist who envies a rival's higher talent - they're all wishing facts out of existence, and destruction is the only means of their wish. If they pursue it, they will not achieve a market, a fortune or immortal fame - they will merely destroy production, employment and art. A wish for the irrational is not to be achieved, whether the sacrificial victims are willing or not. But men will not cease to desire the impossible and will not lose their longing to destroy - so long as self-destruction and self-sacrifice are preached to them as the practical means of achieving the happiness of the recipients.

I my humble opinion, this one paragraph sums up the core of what business is about better than anything I've ever read before. I have plenty to say about this, but my priorities are pretty defined at the moment - slotting everything together perfectly takes time, and patience is a nice trait to have...

On Saturday morning, something happened that I'm not quite sure what to make of.

I was in Stellenbosch doing maintenance on our flat (I've since rented it out to 3 Swedish exchange students, but that's another story). One of the problems was a non-cooperative set of blinds, for which I needed a few small plastic parts, along with a few of the cloth blades. A friend recommended a place called "Wonder Blinds" in the industrial area for said parts. And so I drove there...

Being Saturday, only a few businesses were open. I couldn't find Wonder Blinds immediately, so I drove around the block, and noticed a sign at Demtex Fabrics that said "blinders, opgemaak" (blinds, made up). Ah, I thought, and parked in front of the building. As I walked inside, I noticed that the place was almost deserted, save for two people: The one was a middle-aged lady behind the counter, and the other was a younger lady (about my age) standing sort-of in front of the counter. Nothing strange, except the girl was smiling, looking at me as I walked in - so much so that I wasn't sure who to say hi to, because it was almost as if she was sort-of greeting me. I smiled back, out of simple reflex; for a brief moment, these same reflexes told me she was a sales lady, but then I realised that she was holding a purse, and logic aimed my attention at the lady behind the counter.

"Goeie more (Good morning)", I said. "Ek is op soek na 'n paar onderdele (I'm looking for a few spare parts)". I held up the stuff I had in my hand.

"Onderdele?! (spare parts?!)", the girl asked, chuckling. She was mocking me, the cheek! "Wel, wat anders noem mens dit? (well, what else would you call them?)" I replied. She was smiling broadly now, and I think I was too. It was then that a guy appeared from within an office, looked at the stuff I had in my hand, and politely explained that they only supplied roman blinds (as opposed to my vertical ones). He recommended Wonder Blinds, obviously, but said that he doubted that they were open on a Saturday, and explained to me how to get to them. I thanked him, and walked out. When I got into my car (which is a classic 1971 Mercedes currently missing the front-left hubcap, they're damn hard to get hold of), I noticed the girl getting into her car two from mine. She paused, looked at me, smiled again, and got in...

OK, so here's the thing:

A chance encounter like this is nothing out of the ordinary, things like these happen all the time, except: she's the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I've never felt such an attraction towards someone, ever. It was completely eerie, which is why I don't know what to make of it - I've never experienced anything like this before. And that's not all… I'm sure I recognised her from somewhere, and that she recognised me too. I've tried my best, but I can't quite put my finger on it… My best guess is that we were at a graduation ceremony together, I think it was my master's. You know what, now that I'm typing this, I'm almost convinced it was.

It's bothering me so much, but I don't know what to do. All I have is a face (which I'll never forget for as long as I live), the fact that she drives a white Fiat Palio and probably stays in Stellenbosch. How do I know this? She had Stellenbosch number plates, which I noticed as I drove off  (I have this habit of trying to deduce people's life stories from their cars and number plates, try it sometime, it's fun). Nothing else.

Do I try to track her down?
How?
Why?

Unbelievable. I still get goosebumps when I think about it.

It's SA BlogAwards time again - go check it out and vote for your favourite local writers. Nominations only at this stage, but I'm sure we'll have a few good choices to pick from by February 17th...

Knock yourselves out!

Damn, I can't wait for OneNote 12.

I've been reading about the upcoming features of my favorite piece of software for a while, and have wanted to mention it on here, but I've just been so insanely busy. It's very seldom that I get so excited about a piece of software that I lie awake at night thinking about the possibilities. By golly gosh, the stuff we're going to see in the second iteration of the amazing brain-extender known as OneNote has me smiling in my sleep. Seriously.

OK, some background: OneNote is, as its name suggests, a note-taking application. It sits in your system tray (or on your second monitor in my case) ready for almost anything to be dragged into it, or typed into it, or pasted into it, etc etc. Then, it enables you to organise said anything into folders, sections and pages, and search them instantaneously. Imagine, if you will, an assistant who takes mental notes for you, and can without fail return these notes for you at will, within context. That's what OneNote's about. Actually, to really understand it, you've gotta read what Owen Braun has said. The way he's summarised the reasoning behind it is such a cool way of showcasing alternative thinking.

Anyway, I've been using OneNote 2003 (SP1) for about 2 years now, and I quite simply can't do without it anymore. You know how reliant you are on your web browser? Multiply that by 10, and you'll begin to understand how useful this puppy is. I'm typing this paragraph in OneNote. When someone phones me (or I phone them), I type their details into it. When I'm searching for stuff on the web, I drag links, paragraphs and images into it. When I'm shortlisting things I have to do for the day, I use it. When Charles and I are setting up software specs, we use a shared OneNote session to edit on a live whiteboard. I could go on and on, but the point is simple really: This baby has become a part of my life like no other piece of software ever has. Bearing in mind that I've been actively using PCs since 1984, that's a pretty big thing…

Which is why, when I read this, I just had to sit still and think about it for a while.
Holy. Crap.

Some days, Microsoft just plain kicks ass.

Last year, Onanymous won all our hearts with her Do you remember post.

This afternoon, I came across an amazing collection of sound clip links which gave me that warm fuzzy South African feeling all over again - Remember Wielie Walie, Derrick, Vyfster and Agter Elke Man? Die Man van Staal? Trompie?

Pumamouse, thank you - I feel like I'm 5 again…

Ever wanted to live in Knysna? Ever wanted to make it a regular holiday destination?

Now's your chance. Check out this dream log cabin. Actually, calling it a cabin is a bit silly, because it's a really a fully-fledged 3 bedroom house with location and a view to match.

Features:

• 3 Bedrooms, all en-suite
• The master bedroom has a walk-in cupboard, and a bathroom I'm jealous of (because you can look out over the awe-inspiring hills while soaking up bubbles).
• Light and airy lounge with huge windows (once again, view, anyone?) leading out onto the huge deck.
• Catwalk between upstairs bedrooms
• Large, open-plan kitchen, scullery and dining room
• Double garage and car port
• Did I mention the views?

I really like the place. It's got a great feel to it, is up on a hill, close to town (but without the bustle), and the mountains create an atmosphere that's unbeatable. On top of that, it's really well proportioned and practical - perfect. Asking price? ZAR 2.3million

Interested? Scroll right to the bottom, and click contact me.

I attended a good friend's wedding on Saturday, with the reception held at the magnificent La Couronne in Franschhoek.

Strangely enough, it was actually the first wedding I've attended since I was about 10 or 11, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The service was warm and personal, and the reception awesome - with wonderful food & drink, a group of people with the kind of charm you don't find just anywhere, and an atmosphere really fitting the occasion. It was superb, in all senses.

The superlative niceness of whole affair is, however, not really the point of this post (even though it really did deserve a mention)…

After almost everyone had left - it was dark already, having been a late morning wedding - I walked back to my car, got in, and realised (with that horrible sinking feeling) that I'd forgotten my headlights on since we arrived there. My battery was dead, and I couldn’t even coax the faintest amount of energy from it. Not good, seeing as I had about 90km to drive back home… Luckily, the best man (the groom's brother, and also a good friend) also hadn't left yet. In some strange twist of affairs, his car keys had ended up with his parents, who had almost an hour before left for Stellenbosch, which was about 40km away. So there we were, stuck.

Eventually, after a few phone calls, Frans managed to get hold of his parents, and they drove all the way back from Stellenbosch with his keys. The plan was that we'd grab a set of jumper cables from his car once he'd gotten the keys from them, and then get mine going. And then it started raining…

To keep a long story relatively short, the jumper cable plan didn't work as smoothly as we thought. My battery was totally drained, and even with the other vehicle's engine running, mine wouldn't budge. So we tried pushing it down the hill, which meant that we had to first push it over an incline into the road. And that's where the point of this whole long story comes in. Mr Scheepers (the groom's father) didn't need to help, and I didn't expect him to, but he did. In the darkness and pouring rain, with mud everywhere, he helped push, and continued to until we finally got things sorted out. After all the planning and hard work involved with the wedding, and the long day behind them, they didn’t step back for a second. They didn't even hesitate...

On rare occasions, I applaud the efforts of people of extraordinary calibre. This is one of those occasions. Thank you, I really appreciate it.

Today, the top item on GoogleNews’ Tech section was about some word all of us know, and which the rest of the world is very quickly catching on to. “Blog”. Just that little world. So familiar, with so much potential, yet still relatively obscure.

Google has had it for a while, but it’s about to go bigtime. Why? Microsoft has stepped into the ring…

OK, so why does that mean it will be big? Because they’re looking at integrating it into MSN Messenger. The same MSN Messenger that millions of “I don’t really care about tech stuff, I just want to chat” dummies worldwide use. That’s a very important little factor, simply because it will probably expand blogging to a level of critical mass, a mass which it’s only been reaching relatively slowly up until now.

I signed up and created a “space” for myself, just to check it out. Will I change to it anytime soon? Obviously not. Was it really easy, and VERY powerful? Yes. And that’s the crux…

The highlights:

• changing layouts (with drop and drag, übercool)
• changing themes (super easy)
• managing galleries (windows integrated)
• uploading WMP playlists (I use an old version of Winamp, but it’s still cool)
• adding links (super easy, once again)

The whole experience, although slow (probably the GoogleNews frenzy), was something I can see Messenger un-techies flocking to in droves.

Hopefully, getting a few million more on board will move blogging closer to an ideal world of interconnectedness. That can only be good…

Please speed my package via reindeer express to the good folks at DAAD in Bonn.

I’ve been a very good boy, working hard to prepare all the required documentation, and I hope they like it!

That’s all, thank you very much.

I used to think (maybe because of movies like Cast Away) that courier companies (like FedEx) operate 24/7/365 anywhere. After all, they operate their own extensive airplane fleets. So, getting urgent documents sent to Germany on a Saturday to arrive Tuesday at latest wouldn’t be a problem…

“I’m sorry sir, you can send it now, but it will only be shipped Monday morning” was the standard reply at the Post Office and PostNet (who outsource to DHL). What? Don’t courier companies fly 100 planes on a Saturday? Not in South Africa, clearly. “Your best bet will probably be FedEx, but I can’t help you with getting in touch with them”.

No sweat my friend, I’ve got the internet, so I’ll manage.

And so I went to FedEx’s website.

I can’t count myself to be an expert in site navigation structure, but Fedex’s sucks. After trying to figure out what and where for a while, I asked Abraham whether he’d used them before. “No ways, they’re way too expensive, and you have to have an account. We just import through them sometimes.” At least it made a little sense that I couldn’t just get some straightforward information on pricing, timeframes and pickup from the site – I’m sort of excluded from their business model. Fine. I (reluctantly) made peace with the fact that I was going to be a little late.

So I went to DHL’s site (I don’t really use couriers, so I forgot about UPS) – Damn, what a change. Immediately, right in my face, was what I wanted.

I selected “Express Services” from the Services dropdown.

I clicked “TimeDefinite” (which was clearly indicated as “The ideal choice for time-critical and express deliveries”)

I chose between “International” and “Local”

Next, I chose “Worldwide Document Express”

Okay, so now I knew which service I wanted to use. Next step? Click “Book a Pick-up”, and fill in the form.

Slick. But that’s not the important part. The navigation was simple, a crucial factor. Choose between 3 options. Refine between another 3 options. Know exactly where you are at all times. Sensible layout, with really effective use of colour. Somehow, it just all made sense. I was impressed.

UPDATE: Because of the rush, I ended up looking up the nearest DHL office, drove there (it was only about 6km from our office), and dropped the envelope off. The guy at the service counter was professional, friendly and knowledgeable (he even knew where Bonn was, and suggested confirming the address formatting and codes - which he promptly did).

Marketing always talks about locking in a customer for life. They've got me...

Isn’t South Africa just beautiful this time of the year?

Sunset over Papegaaiberg, Stellenbosch, reflected in a set of windows – Photo by Heinrich.

The title read “The radio broadcast that panicked America!

I remember sitting in our lounge when I was about 10, and listening to the eerie cylinder pop open with a HIISSSSSSSS. Of course that was in 1988, 50 years after the original broadcast that marked a shift in how people view popular media. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, do not fear – I seem to be the only one in our office who does. I’m talking about War of the Worlds, and the 1938 national (American) broadcast of the HG Wells classic from the Meridian Room at the Plaza in New York City. Performed convincingly over radio, the story told of the arrival of an alien meteor in Grover’s Mill (a small American town in New Jersey). The cylinder contained in te meteor was red-hot, and a strange creature soon emerged from it (obviously scaring the living daylights out of bystanders).

The frightening part was however not the alien, but how people reacted to the broadcast. Simply put, it caused massive panic. Radio was mainly a source of news in those days, and people weren’t at all expecting fiction. They believed every word of the broadcast, and the events that followed are to this day cited as a unique example of mass hysteria in action. Psychologists use the event to model hysteria scenarios. Military commanders use it to develop strategies for tactical information warfare.

I find it fascinating to think about how people have adapted their information consumption habits over the years. Today, achieving information credibility is extremely difficult, simply because everyone is an information source. This poses the question: Did they trust radio because it was the ONLY source, or because they hadn’t been subjected to smoke and mirrors and clever trickery before ?

In today’s terms: Do monopolistic information sources have mass credibility simply because of a lack of other options ? Hmmm…

Interesting Stuff link: War of the Worlds, Orson Welles, And The Invasion from Mars.

3 Islands, 3 tribes, 18 individuals, the best of the best, only 1 survivor (accompanied by an orchestral soundtrack of grand proportions). That’s the advert I saw last night, and it actually interested me.

As much as we love to hate reality-TV, and especially Survivor, it still sticks in our minds. It’s watched by millions, many of those being the type who wouldn’t want to admit it.

Why? Because it shows real people dealing with each other without the distraction of planning. It’s how we live every day, even if we’re not island-bound castaways with too much exposure to mosquitos and not enough rice to go around. It gives people something to reflect on, something to make them think about how they handle the relationships in their own lives. It deals with emotion, with people getting pissed off at each other, with them making friends, forming alliances (even if they only last for the duration of the show). All of these elements combine to make the spectacle undeniably like we believe it should be – because we can identify with it, even if only with little bits of it.

Reality TV is one of those things which gives us insight into the human mind. It’s not cleansed, adjusted to fit corporate image, or to portray a neutral, professional image. It’s a version of something that’s GOT SOUL.

Wait!, I hear you say. It’s all a load of commercialised rubbish, adjusted according to the directors’ aims and how they want to position the show “strategically”. Correct. But for a specific reason : The producers of these shows are driven economically, and because of this motivation, have to create something that as many people as possible can identify with. Sure, it’s aggregated and manipulated. But that’s not the point… Even in this form, bits of the phenomenon still strike a chord with almost everyone – an extremely difficult thing to do. In most cases, reaching a global audience successfully requires painfully precise scripting and research into every slight nuance, every smile and pronuanciation. Not so with Survivor.

My point? People are driven by human interaction, more than anything else. As much as many of us like to push clean corporate branding, we just can’t ignore the emotional element. It’s what we all want – SOUL.