Seen Any Big Cats Lately?

The Indian government launches a different kind of a census: to once again take stock of its tiger population. (40,000 a century ago, less than 3000 now - I'll take "fast dwindling" for 400 points, please)

Will the great tiger become a mythical, legendary beast, remembered only through pictures and paintings, poems and stories? Let's hope not.

If you think of extinction only in the context of dodos and dinosaurs, visit the Bronx Zoo sometime. The zoo has a depressing exhibit on animals that simply disappeared off the face of the earth. And the Tiger - the magnificent, beautiful Tiger - could soon end up on that wall in Bronx.

An old article in National Geographic (circa 2003) criticizes the Indian Government's previous attempts at such a census.

Here's A Great Idea

If, like me, you've been a part of a technology startup, you will recognize the lure of the Great Idea. It's that one blazingly brilliant concept that will immediately separate you from the other startups in the universe. It's the idea that will make your customers beg for your products and services. If ideas were symphonies, this Great Idea is the Ninth. Ode to Joy, baby.

But you also know that somehow, the Great Idea never seems to materialize. Till it does, and makes gazillionaires out of some other entrepreneur and elicits a "oh, i thought of this in 1986!" reaction from everyone on the team!

Been there, done that.

Which is why I thought this post by blogger-entrepreneur Ramit Sethi deserves to be read by everyone who's plotting to spring another technological marvel on the world.

I especially liked Ramit's closing words: "trying, not waiting" and "experimenting, not thinking about it". (Arun Verma makes a good case for doing in this post on Cre8ive Ignition.)

(via del.i.cious)

Going, Going, Gone

The (manually operated) bicycle pump, the ice-cream seller with a pushcart, the snake charmer - these are some of the things that, according to Falter Ego, will disappear in our lifetime. Sad indeed.

But "round the decay of that colossal wreck", there are so many "half-sunk, shattered" visages.

Seen a circus tent lately? It's gone.

Ever watched a slideshow through a (so-called) "bioscope"? Gone for good.

Someone tell me the dreaded "safari suit" is gone.

The Indian vulture, once found in most parts of the country, particularly in the North? Almost gone.

Oh, and a ten million girls. Dead and gone.

No Stinkin' Badges

Precious glittering gold, old dust-covered shoes, what's the difference?

There's a wonderful moment in John Huston's "Treasure of Sierra Madre", a little tragi-comic drama within the main adventure-drama, when two bandits fight over Bogart's shoes. Just like Dobbsie needs the gold, these two poor starving bandits need those shoes. And everything comes undone because of that need.

The amazing screenplay (it won an Oscar for John Huston) not only invokes sympathy for a deplorable character like Dobbs, but also heightens the drama to another level with a minor sequence. Somebody needs the gold, somebody needs the shoes and somebody needs a peach farm to find his happiness. That's what makes us human beings.

Wiki has a nice little entry on the film.

While My Guitar Tunelessly Weeps

Automatically-tuned guitars?! What will they think of next? Digital cameras? Wireless phones?

Seriously, why would anyone want to use a computer to tune an instrument?

For one very good reason: it spares the guitarist the embarassment of playing an off-tune instrument. Unless you are a guitarist in a really avant band, in which case you are supposed to play offtune.

What can I say, there's the romantic/Luddite in me that still cringes at the mere mention of the word "synthesizer", let alone "computer-controlled-automatic-tuner". Why must we bring technology into every aspect of music-making?

Now look 'ere (that's my impression of a Luddite guitarist), guitars are supposed to go out of tune. In the middle of a song. Guitarists are supposed to spend at least 20 minutes tuning while the crowd trickles into the venue. They tune up, they hammer out a few riffs that everyone knows, they suck that cigarette dangling from the corner of their lips and that's how it's done. It's tradition, man. Don't mess with that!

It's also how guitarists have built their mystique. Yes, tuning up is how they impress the girls. "Look at me, I'm tuning a horrendously complex 6-string instrument and that's why I am so damn cool" is the message conveyed by ALL guitarists who tune their instruments while gazing vacantly into the dark abyss. You've seen the look. It's the sensitive-complex-pained hero look. It doesn't work with drummers, naturally. It also doesn't work for keyboard players (they have always had them damn automatic tuners!) and bassists...well, they only got 4 strings to tune...how difficult could that be? :)

Come on. Would Pandit Ravi Shankar buy an automatic tuner? And Ustad Ali Akbar Khan? What about Robert Johnson? (I think Jimi would have used it...but he would have also inflicted some serious damage to the unit)

Tuning an instrument "automatically" with one's hands and ears is part of the job description, isn't it? I really don't care if a rhythm guitarist is slightly off-tune, or if the lead guitarist needs 4 guitars for a song because he's written the song in 4 different tunings. It's how its supposed to be. So keep it that way.

Transperformance's website has the juice, and Cnet has the news.

What Is That Music?

Is there a coinage clumsier and more naive than "world music"? One of these days, I swear I will tear that Word Art generated, laser-printed label off the public library's music shelf with my half-chewed nails.

I found out, after a little Googling that the phrase was not sprung upon us by some music company executive in Los Angeles but by a group of Englishmen. (link to an about.com site.) So much for the popular stereotype about the culturally isolated American and the, uh, globally integrated Britisher.

Naani Yaad Aa Gayi

Reading this touching post by TTG (via Desipundit) made me remember my dear naani. Or ajji, as she was known to her grandchildren.

I tell you, living in a naani-less world is no fun at all.