Things past?

I can remember even though I feel I want to forget. Such a haunting feeling, like the memory of you, occasionally kickstarted to life through the facebook picture and the birthday email. It is pointless to try to forget, sometimes I wonder why it all happened - the bus route, living on the other side of the river together, you coming home at odd hours, my mother remarking at your ease in coming into the house.

She thought there was 'something going on', perhaps there was for you, it was certainly for me. Matters were not helped when I started getting close, but you always stood a bit further away. And on that sorry birthday, made sweet by your letter and the appearance of the two quizzing fiends (hello!), the letter you wrote, I still have it, "I sometimes take you for granted." I told you no, but of course you knew I was lying.

The world and life swung by us, and swung us by, it started to drift, but this was only natural. It was a true friendship, honest and open, kind and gentle; the biggest compliment here is that such friendships are simply not being made anymore. (Notice the emphasis on the past.)
I tried keeping my end of the bargain with visits that never fully felt complete, to be fair, you tried too. When my lady and I got together to face life with each other, the email that came in, it was straight from that shared past.

It's been my birthday come and gone, 4 years ago you called me from across the world and we spoke for half an hour. You got married, it was quite the fairy tale come to life, I feel extraordinary happiness for you. Now, we are barely a few hours bus ride away and despite all the facebooking, emailing, free phone calling on weekend...

"I owe you a phone call", full stop.
****
Here's a thought to chew on: if something begins to fade between two people, since no one else is around to notice it, does it really fade?

If ever a transaction came with cost

(the DRS must be it)
"There must be some way out of this" says the joker, with the thief listening.

"It's too confusing, boss. The administration dithers, the scientists bring in more angles. Even Harsha Bhogle wants relief. And none of them understand what it's worth."

"You get excited too easily" says the thief. "You know we can use an auction to discover worth. You and I, come on, we've been through that."

(pauses, while Mark Nicholas airs his view on shrinking three dimensions down to two)

"Let's not pretend to perfection, the game's staring down the toilet bowl it will soon start to circle as it is..."

All along the TV towers, HawkEye keeps it view.

Unanticipated events and the DRS

when the Decision Review System (DRS) was brought in to cricket, it was meant to resolve the "howlers" that is decisions made by an umpire that was obviously wrong.

Instead it is used for marginal decisions. But that is not of concern here, the focus is on the unanticipated effect of using the DRS - it has changed, or will change surely, how the batsmen play their defensive shots.

Why should this be so? The DRS contains a highly controversial ball tracking technology that can "predict" where the ball would go. In times past, when the umpire on-field was the sole voice of authority, it was usually okay to tuck bat inside pad and take a big step down the wicket to smother the ball (the only caveat was if it was obvious that the batsman was not offering a shot, then a more relaxed, bowler friendly decision is possible). This would cause enough uncertainty as to where the ball would go, since it still had a way to go, and the benefit of the doubt went to the batsmen.

Now, with ball tracking, this uncertainty is removed. Obviously (in retrospect) now batsmen have to use their bats more to pat the ball down. For this alone, the DRS is a good thing, no more will England and South Africa get over their inadequacies against spin by hiding behind their legs. Perhaps a more equal game, and thus, a more interesting game awaits.

Shows how policy changes can have effects that were not anticipated, let alone expected.

Vital Curriculum

Breaking Adolescence

Manic Algebra

Generic Evisceration

Illuminating English Gardens

Mostly Satisfactory

Persuasive History, Discriminating

the rhetoric of twitter

bhogleharsha Harsha Bhogle

@

@vvkrj because i am looking at it rationally, not with a pre-determined mind.

Harsha Bhogle believes that being rational means being not pre-determined. He should read some McCloskey.

Station Id:47283

By chance, I happen to fall upon a website that allows you to tune in to Cricket Australia.

And now, I discover the joys of listening to radio commentary. Let me tell you kids this is one of those rare little pleasures that one happens to tumble onto. Test match through a radio perspective is a strange mythical beast, I struggle to put into words how vivid everything seems. It is probably the greatest tool I have come upon as background to when I work.

It helps that there isn't an obnoxious ex-Indian captain telling us how he would do it; or an ex-allrounder whose collection of methaphors wouldn't exceed the number of fingers he has on one hand. The quality of commentary is so much better, and it isn't simply that they have to describe everything - that would be boring.

For whatever reason, sacrificing the visual implies you note the rise and fall of the commentators voices more clearly; at the same time the commentator also understands this. The two reinforce each other in a symmetrical merry go round, chasing each other on and on. The commentator also translate the emotion of the players better; partly this is due to the fact that one hears the noise the crowd makes - and let me say, crowds in Australia are superb, they applaud whenever a bowler gets a wicket and once again at the end of the over, for instance. Talk moves over the nature of the players, their movement, you hear the whirring of the air-conditioner as they talk about the heat and your mind makes images that reality could only disappoint.

These tiny flicks of atmosphere are almost totally missing from television coverage, don't ask me why. I feel so much more drawn into a game, even when its boring, you can feel the breeze they talk about or the slope of the ground as the ball rolls away. Your head is clear of most thoughts, and your mind opens up.

And the oddest thing of all - one feels more neutral and tend to empathize in a strange way. This isn't pantomime, no, it's a bunch of (mostly) 20 somethings attempting to snatch a piece of history for themselves under the knowledge that most of their efforts will be wasted. There is a heroism here of an ordinary kind, the best kind.

I feel more grown up, ain't that somefin' as the little girl delightfully yelled to her mother when she saw the rainbow over the car park?

A heavy nostalgia hangs in my head these days, searching for I don't know what, I spent 2 hours staring at the sky today with thoughts of my papers, friends, and family popping around, mirroring the shift of the clouds, duality to the power of too many. I can't see what's going on, but something is changing. Edges are smoothing, puffing away silently from chaos into order. 2 years of thought strained by the constraints imposed by academic discourse into a few pages of talk and numbers (but the numbers also talk only we give them their speech). There are no endings, only new beginnings, proclaimed Sir Bruce Dickinson. So all we are right now disappears in an instant, and then we are reborn again; what we end up is then a collection of beginnings besides the dust and bones, it is this that people remember, no? A delightful view, I urge you to consider it with care.

Hmmm, hmmm, hmmmm.

facebook? more like facepalm

for the last time, quit it,

(a)those pictures fishing for compliments

no it is not something you did that made your friends squeal with "so hottt yarrr"

other than show a little skin, wearing a flirty little nothing expression and that handsome pout

so don't f*ing say "thanks! :) "

its about as original as having cornflakes as breakfast - nice, but nothing new

gah

(b) and i'm happy your professional life has kicked into a higher gear, don't shove it in my face, i don't really care, your writing is pretty ordinary anyway

talk is cheap, but listening isn't, no sir.