Fast-changing ICT: why I'll start an ezine

I made an effort of writing a computer hardware book some three years ago. I photographed stuff, I scanned pictures I browsed the web etc, I had quite a cache of material. When I would pause for a couple of weeks or so then get back to the writing work, I would discover some information needed to be updated. After some time I gave in--too much patching up.

My favourite indicator of the computer world gallop is a cutout from Newsweek titled Model price cuts, where they were talking about "fast 386s" and "screaming 486s". Not that far back, that was just 1992. The prices were USD 2,286 and USD 4,891 (down from USD 7,198 a year before.

I bought my Pentium in 1999 and felt really good about it. It was boasting a 3 gigabyte hard disk and 16 megabyte of RAM. A tower design clone, it didn't have sound card, no CD-rom drive and definitely no USB port. At that time 16x cd-rom drive was very good. CD writers were virtually nonexistent and DVD wasn't in the vocabulary.

I like reading the past, therefore I have with me the whole load of magazines--news, computers, aircraft, etc etc. I also browse through old catalogs that I possess, such as Sears. It's interesting that the older non-ICT catalogs don't have much difference with the currernt ones (I guess everyone has heard that humour about Microsoft and GM exchange about their respective technologies).

This yearning for reading the past led me to thinking, heck, whyn't write the current bits of ICT information and publish them somewhere or other, and when they get obsolete they become history? We all know that so many good guys are offering loads of free space on the web, such as this blog.

This therefore announces my intention of publishing an ezine. The idea is still a mere sketch--how often to update, whether it will be on a website, in a blog or mailing list, those matters are still undecided.

Taifa Stars, you done us proud men!

Yesterday evening 21 hrs East African Time, a soccer game kicked off in Oagadugu, Boukirna Faso.

This narrowish West African nation is perhaps most well known for myth: voodoo. I do remember at one time when I was chatting with a certain diplomat who'd been there on a UN mission who was thoroughly convinced that voodoo really worked there--with several stories to tell. He got really cross with me when I said that was all gogolamba (bullshit in Zamundese language). I don't believe the stuff.

Back to the ball game. It was Bukirna national side against Taifa Stars of Tanzania. It was a repeat match, first having played in Dar es Salaam awhile back where Tz team beat the visitors 2-1. Tanzanian team that played at that first encounter had been a weakling that fluked a win. The team lately has been really hard-swinging, holding Senegal National team to a draw some weeks ago in a home tussle (lost badly during the first encounter in Dakar--understandably because the Senegal cards were well-stacked, especially cheers of home crowd). In a patriotic revolution, Tanzanians led by no less than the Tanzanian President, Hon. J.Ml Kikwete, egged on the boys. And there is also this superb coach, the Brazilian Maximo.

Bukirna didn't know what hit them. Tanzanians commanded the ball all the way from the start whistle, and the hosts did their utmost not to get embarrased infront of their home crowd, therefore literally packed themselves at their goalmouth like sardines in a can.Occasional efforts by the Bukirna attackers ended in frustrating fluid motion of Evo Mapunda snatching the ball and diving with it, pausing down there for a sec, likely uttering a short prayer, "Thanks again, God".

Meanwhile the seconds arm of clock kept sweeping, and things seemed certain to end nil-nil, such a fortress the Bukirna side had built around their goal, hardly anytime did the ball even reached their custodian. The opportunity came though, some five minutes or so before full time. The goal was professional, attributed to attacker Haruna Moshi, to put it simply. It broke whatever reserves the hosts still had, kind of like throwing a stone at the nest of hornets. But nuthin' seemed to matter to the emboldened Taifa Stars. Much to the overjoyed multitude of Tanzanians watching the ball live on Television ya Taifa, The whistle went 3 extra minutes after full time putting the gallant boys of Tanzania 1 up.
Tempers flared. One player from each side got awarded a red card, maintaining things scalar balance. Smelling the kill, Maximo didn't want to leave anything to chance. His effort to urge the boys awarded him with a red card. Tanzanians like me would concur that the red card for the coach, if anything, was like a certificate of achievement.