Yahoo!! (Bad Neo, Bad Marketing, Erratic Customer Care, and How to Create an Account WITHOUT a Mobile)

All right, I'm a tad afraid to jinx things for others, who may need a way around Yahelldemort's latest act of utter silliness, but it may work for a few (or they won't even bother to change things, which is entirely possible).

It all started when I hopped by a Yahoo group where I was made a Mod, and I realized that the page was all wrong.

The reason? A thing called Neo that hundreds of thousands of people are hating with a passion, but that the Yahell bots and minions are defending as if their lives depended on its promotion and success.

Let's face it, like Windows8 (from A to Z, Microthingy boys), like Windows7's so-called impossibility to disable auto-arrange in Explorer (there's a crack for that, guys - just like one was made for 8 when it came out, because people who work on their computers, you know, the ones who don't just play games on them, need to have the possibility to re-arrange the icons in a way that suits them), like Google stopping to allow us to personalize the welcome page of their search engine, like............ Like sooooo many things, this is a failure.

A FAILURE (apparently, working for companies like that make you a bit deaf. Emphasis is badly needed).

Neo is unpractical, and the hours of personalization that went into our groups are down the drain - all that for teenagers who are fans of FaceBook or adults who are IT incompetent and just go: 'Oh, Shiny!' (plus the handful of silly bunnies who work for the offenders).

Once I realized that life as I knew it on Yahoo! was over (because just like the rest of the plonkers, they'll never admit that Neo is a failure, and they'll keep it, shouting at the world that it's good and better and... Oh! Go buy yourselves a collective brain, guys!), I started growling (yea... again. Soooorry!).

I don't like changes much.

Sudden, unexpected (sorry, not reading IT magazines at breakfast) changes... *grrr* I hate that.

After a decade of fun and friendships started, thanks to Yahoo!, that hurts.

Then, I realized that under another identity, I used to have a group that's dead, and that I thought should be put to rest.

That was how I wasted most of my Tuesday.

I tried to log in through two different browsers. Nada.

I tried to retrieve my ID (though I had it, because I archive important e-mails like passwords and IDs and changes to an account). Nothing.

I tried to get help with my password. Zilch.

After hours of testing, surfing, "Googling" (yea, I'm that stubborn), I finally realized that since I hadn't logged in in months, my ID had been de-activated and recycled.

*blink*

Dear Yahoo! How about you send a lil' reminder before doing that, um? I was silent, but I wanted to keep that ID. Ta. Muchly.

And then, a brand new circus started.

I managed (that was a bloody miracle, yea!) to find a way to send an e-mail to Customer Care.

First, let's be honest, I got a thorough answer describing what I needed to do. I was amazed and pleased.

Hold it right there, Diego!

Step 1: create a new ID... and to do that you MUST give a mobile phone number. Yep! You read that well, it's not an option. You don't have a mobile phone, you  CANNOT register (I tried giving my landline number, but Yahell saw through my trick).

So... I contacted the help site again, stating very clearly that I don't own a mobile phone, and 'Could you tell me what to do, please?'.

Answer: You need to give a mobile phone number for reason yadda, yadda, and yadda.

Me: Yep, but not the answer to my question. I don't own a mobile phone, and 'Could you tell me what to do, please?'.

Answer 2: Oh, sorry! You need to give a mobile phone number for reason yadda, yadda, and yadda. (No kidding! It'd be funny if it weren't so sad - I was this close to asking them if English was their native language!)

Me: Erm. Still don't have a mobile phone. Help (or may I go frell myself slowly in a different dimension)?

Last answer: Without a mobile phone, you can't register.

Okay. 
Thanks, guys, I'll go frell myself, but that's awful, unrealistic marketing.

What's that mobile phone thingy? Working for the NSA, intending to sell the lists in a few months when you've changed the ToS, discriminating people allergic to mobile phones or too poor to afford one?

I don't care what the answer is... but I do wonder if that's entirely legal where I'm currently parked, and I'm going to phone some government agency because I don't like being bullied... all the more since there is a way around.

Instead of creating a new account, I logged in with a Gmail address (it works with FaceBook, too, but the security issues are bigger there). I migrated the ownership of the group to my new ID and deleted the group I wanted to delete since the small hours of Tuesday very morning.

Then, I changed my Yahoo! password and deleted the account.

Voilà !

There was a way around, but the latest people who answered me didn't want to share it with me (it'd be way too scary if they don't know that way to connect without surrendering a mobile phone number!).

In a month, Yahoo! has managed to anger and disappoint a lot of people.

As I already tweeted:

- Whatever happened to 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.'

- 'Too big to fail' is no longer true.

So... Who else is disappointed in "upgrades" that are bad?

Come and growl with me...

Dru Stubborn de Lanor, proud to have managed to do what she wanted to do without much help from Yahoo!

PS: worth a Plonker Award, ne?

One Version of Ratatouille

I think that, on one side of my family, we know that each family has got a different version of ratatouille: olives or no olives? Aubergine or no aubergine?

So, I'm going to give you one version (not the one from my Provençal [h]ex, the one my mamma got during a stay in the south with friends).

First, the cast:

So, you'll need:

1 onion

1 aubergine

1 big sweet pepper (or 2 small ones of different colours)

2 or 3 courgettes (it all depends on the size - I usually take the weight of the aubergine as a reference and double it)

2 or 3 tomatoes

salt

pepper

black olives - optional

1- Cut the onion (small bits, thin slices, I never do the same thing twice, so just do what you prefer when it comes to onions) and put it in a big pot with olive oil.

Cook over a low heat.

 

2- Cut the sweet pepper in small bits (once more, cut as you like your sweet peppers on your plate) and add them to the onion.

You'll probably have to add some oil.

3- Cut the aubergine (guess what? Yes! Cut it the way you like it best).

What I started doing is cutting a few round slices, for fun, and then I cut the aubergine in two and cut it in rather small bits.

Add it to the pot.

Stir a bit, and add salt and pepper then.

4- Now, it's time to turn to the courgettes.

For fun, I cut one in full, round slices:

and the rest in small bits:

Let them join their friends in the pot.

You may have to add some salt (and pepper). Check that.

5- Cut the tomatoes in somewhat smallish bits, and add them:

This is here that you should add olives if you want.

Since the moment you started with the onion, about twenty/twenty-five minutes have passed. Can I give you a cooking time? Approximately. According to the vegetables you did pick, you'll have to keep cooking your ratatouille for fifteen to twenty minutes more. Courgettes and aubergine should be your guides in this; they should be soft (and almost translucent for the round slices - they're hidden testing devices in the pot!).

It should vaguely look like this:

Bon appétit !

ps: if you're feeling bold, you can add grounded hot pepper. Yum (totally unconventional, but if one cannot experiment in the kitchen...).

Greed in Games

I've got to admit that I've never been a fan of the Olympics (not even historically speaking).

I loved visiting Olympia and had a lot of fun there with friends and my favourite teacher on school trips, but... that's it.

Recently, things have become slightly annoying. Olympics by Olympics.

I truly hadn't been paying attention until China got the Olympics, and I found myself with the Olympic flame in front of me - and blocking the bridge I needed to cross in order to go to work. By sheer luck, I managed to cross the bridge and reach my classroom, but I started paying attention to Olympic gossip.
What do I remember about the Beijing Olympics?
In my corner of the world, the Olympics nuts bullied people in town, and no one had the right to smack them in order to kick-start their brains.
In Beijing, people were evicted with practically no compensation, and people weren't allowed to protest.
Why? But in the name of the love of sports and for the love of humankind, of course! [I haven't located the Sarc font. Sorry]

Then... London! Or as we called it Londinium MMXII.
If there were things that were no surprise from the Chinese government, I was utterly disappointed when the new Olympics bully decided that no one, for whatever reason, could use the names linked to the Olympics. I particularly remember the shops that had to drop a part of the names that had been theirs for years because there was olymp-something in it.
The Olympic bullies were allowed to harass anyone who refused to comply and obey.

Now, let's move to the winter variety of the Olympics.
Next, we're getting Sochi, in Russia. Russia, where the government (ex-KGB and ex-lawyers) has decided that their poor policies needed to be hidden from the sheeple, thanks to scapegoats; and therefore, the Russian government has passed laws that discriminate against and criminalise the LGBTQ community.
Some artists who were invited to the Olympics have refused to go.
The athletes are divided.
Some people want the games to be boycotted. Others are against it.
Whilst I understand that it's properly heart-rending to not participate in something when you've been training for years, I know that I couldn't caution  the anti-human rights bullying of politicos who need a smokescreen.
As well, in this particular case, I can't help thinking that money is talking (I have no idea how much money is involved - I must have read something on the topic and forgotten everything about it - but I just bet it's a lot).
So, boycott or not boycott? Boycott!
Why? Because I cannot take the 1936 Olympics out of my mind. The world went to Germany and validated the Nazi regime.
It's no surprise that a lot of people have dubbed this one the "Nazi Olympics".
Of course, the athletes and the people from the Olympic committees all around the world, after considering a boycott, declared that sports had nothing to do with politics. <BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ!> Wrong, boys! By agreeing to go to Germany, you helped more screws get loose in Hitler's head, and that basically told him that he could bully his way to more power. Three years later: war, slaughters, death camps.
I'm not putting all the blame on the Olympics, but, bloody hell, that didn't help one bit.

A few years later, other Olympics people decided that what was going on with Apartheid in South Africa was not right, and the country was boycotted. Hurray!

Today, we're back to the square 'Let's not mix sports and politics'.
Why?
Because the Russians are not threatening the Jews, so they're not planning to kill the gays?
Chickenshit.
A scapegoat is a scapegoat, and if you don't fight for human rights now, History is going to kick you in the nuts and laugh at you whilst you roll on the ground calling for your mummy. Just saying...
No dictator (okay, the Russian boys may not be dictators yet, but, boy, how Vlad wishes he were) should be allowed to bully one minority in order to manipulate his sheeple - sorry, law-abiding citizens - to hide the holes in his politics.
1936, it was the Jews - and we all know (except denialists) how that ended.
2014, it could be the LGBTQ community next.

By solidarity with my Russian brothers and sisters, I (yes, I, tiny drop in this vast ocean) am going to boycott everything related to the 2014 Sochi Olympics.

People suggested to move the games to another, friendlier country, but I'm afraid that money talks (from the committee down to some of the athletes). Piece of news guys, when you kick the bucket, you won't take your money with you, so it all boils down to 'How do you want to be remembered?'.
It's quite easy: either you stay home in protest or you go stroke the Russian politicos' egos and you face the potential consequences. I'll help you: imagine that some dictator orders all sports to become illegal; wouldn't you like someone, abroad, with an international reputation, to defend you and your rights to do what you want? Now... Make a choice...

Talk? To Whom?

This is a general, honest question about people.
I think that the answer might be in a form of self-protection for most, but I'm still puzzled.

So, before my friends start panicking, I'll state that I'm fine these days, but I still have questions about the way some people react to depression, depressed people and the shadow of suicide.

I'm puzzled because today, I met someone who'd left something in my postbox. He wasn't even surprised that I hadn't opened the box in a week when I said so.
He probably thought that I wasn't home, but in fact, I hadn't left my flat since the day before the one he put the note in my box. I was just working hard to plan my lessons, and since I had a full fridge, I didn't leave my nest.
I could have been unwell or depressed, but he didn't say a thing.
Are we just all being too polite?
"Are you fine?"
"Yes, thank you. And you?"
"Fine, thank you."
Are we drowning in formulas?
Do we care?
This is one thing that disturbed me.

Then, twice in the past, I asked contacts to check on me if I ever became silent on the net.
No one cared.
I could be slime on my floor by now. No one cared to check on me when I did disappear because, yes, back then, I was depressed and needed someone, anyone to wave my way.
That was the Internet, where people care and don't care... Okay.

I've seen people encourage depressed people to speak and contact friends, relatives or complete strangers if they think about death.
Fine.
All right.
Short of phoning the Samaritans, to whom can you turn when you've no contact with your relatives (who wouldn't care anyway), when the people around you are being polite (but not interested in your life), and icing on the cake, when your friends to whom you mention suicide ignore what you just said?
Back when I was feeling down because I'd just lost two people to suicide, I felt extremely low. I did try to speak, and no one listened.
What do you do then?

Broken Promise (with a Lie on the Side)

Is it the end of the world? Absolutely not, but that won't stop me from being disappointed.

If you've been reading prior entries, this will ring a bell: a few months ago, we got new doors in my building (to raise the rent - I'm not buying the 'It'll be better for your security' reason, sorry).

My problem was that they wanted my phone number, which bothered me on several levels.

Back then, my caretaker saved the day by suggesting that I didn't give my number, which, he said, would force the building owners to give me a box which my visitors could call in order to have me open the door. Swell! He was my hero.

Hint: notice the tense.

I was unwell for most of June, then I was hacked, then I was on the roads for two months.

I decided to bite the bullet today and hop by my caretaker's lair in order to ask him what would happen if someone wanted to come see me.

The next scene was surreal:

Caretaker: Oh, you'll have to give your phone number.

Me: But you said...

Caretaker: That's the only way.

He didn't say that that he'd never mentioned a special box, but he implied it so "loudly" that I got the message very clearly: 'You've been smoking the lawn, little lady'. 

Basically, he thought there was another way, but it turns out that he was wrong.

That's an honest mistake, but I don't like that he made me feel as if I'd been dreaming about that other way that he mentioned.

So, yea, it's not the end of the world, but yea, I am disappointed.

Idiotic Bipeds Alert

I'm an idiot.

My blood starts boiling too fast, and whilst I do feel compassion, I also feel the urge to grab my favourite rolling pin and use it on the skulls of plonkers!

What's making me growl today?

This:

Now, yes, it's not my country, but to quote Buffy: 'Yada, yada, yada.'.

It's still my bloody planet, and I'm furious.

I'd love to watch that documentary. It looks extremely interesting.
I just tweeted about it, but I'm so angry that I feel the urge to tell the world how I feel.

Do I have something to say about the beauty contest? Not much. Yes, oh, sweet Merlin it's a degrading exploitation of looks (and possibly of young women's dreams), but it bugs me a lot less than the rest of what we're shown in these extracts - and the lady who tells young women to go with change because that's the only constant in life was quite awesome (and she's got a point!).

First, the "lady" we see from the start should be smacked. Bloody hell! When she asks the young girls (who look either scared or bored or outraged, by the way) if it's okay for them to even want a career, I wanted to shout at my screen 'YES!!!'.
Yes, it's okay because they're not slaves, because they've got their own lives, and because the idiot who's lecturing them is, pardon me, not exactly staying at home since she's on a bloody stage telling gals to do as she says, but not as she's doing.
Hell, I could punch her... and there goes my bloody karma!

Then, the male Hindu extremists we see, in courageous and righteous mobs [*gags*], attacking young women make me sick. I'll admit that I wasn't aware of the extent of the issue until I saw these images. And when I saw these images, I wished I could use my aforementioned rolling pin on them. This is no joke; these people are awakening a monster in me that could/would become violent if confronted with them.

Next, the young girl at the camp. The way she's been brainwashed is making me so sad. The bipeds who scrambled her brain cells so much that she'd kill never did anything to deserve her.

The so-called father in the part where his delightful daughter is considered a "product" (yes, we get it, Cupcake, your lil' contribution in her DNA allows you to say that you own her [*gags again*]) is a complete disgrace. That sinister plonker was blessed with a good child and what does he do? He tortures her for pretending to have done her homework when she hadn't finished it. I loathe that biped. His problem isn't that his brain's stuck in a cave; it's that he doesn't have a heart and that he's convinced that he's got the right to treat his daughter like a property, a piece of furniture.
He's another candidate for my rolling pin.

What I see in this is boys (whatever their age!) being encouraged to treat women like slaves - because they're made to think that it's the right thing to do and that they've got the right to do so. In the meantime, the girls are being brainwashed or scared into obeying and allowing boys to boss them around.
I hate that.
That's not the planet I want, and I wish I could protect these children and educate them in compassion, tolerance and a healthy dose of "mind your own business".
I'd be in sooooo much trouble if I lived over there.

Remembrance (a General Post - Incidentally Written on September 11th)

#NeverForget is something I often use on Twitter (must be the years training to become an archivist and the BA in History... plus the fact that I care - too much).

It's got me into trouble a few times (denialists happen).

Of course, I don't know everything about History. I wasn't made aware of all the wars and tragedies since the beginning of time.

I remember that one of my teachers in college spent an afternoon explaining, in great details, the battle of Agincourt. He focussed on the mediaeval aspects, but I spotted links with other, more recent battles (soldiers will always be on the side of anything that can make them win - even if it means that more people will die than in the preceding conflicts; after all, they're soldiers, and that's what they do).

I had another History teacher who was rather fond of military history, and he taught my class everything important in the military from Julius Caesar to Napoleon.

WWI? My family taught me about that one (it was the beginning of the end for us).

WWII? My family again (that was why some of them ended up in London, which is a silver lining in my book), and German classes (nine years of German, nine years of WWII), and other History classes... and my own work.

Why this post? Because I know that I remember too many sad things and events, and I'd probably be less stressed if I forgot a few things (I envy the people who delete things from their brains in order to protect themselves). Because I read too many newspapers that keep me informed of what's going on in the world, and I spot the connections with the past and it makes me sad and angry. History should not be repeating itself (but that's because most people forget).

Why today? Because I'm sad and angry.

Let's deal with the angry part first because it mostly applies to things being remembered today. It's because I remember how, on Internet forums in 2002 and 2003, people were insulted if they didn't all massively kept forwarding messages about the 9/11 events. When I say "insulted", I don't mean 'Oh, you heartless plonker!', I mean 'If you don't forward this remembrance message, you're just a filthy cunt who should be handed over to the animals who murdered our brothers!!!! You pathetic twat! Forward it now, I say!'. It was that level of civility.

In 2004? There were just a few messages to remember September 11th, and the tone was much more civil; the two prior years you were really made to feel as bad as the culprits if you didn't comply and did as you were told (and don't get me started on that one because, even today, anyone daring to question what really happened is ridiculed and silenced - well, sorry, but let's make a comparison and have a look at the declassified archives about Pearl Harbor; first, make up your mind, and then see how people daring to ask questions about that attack are still being treated. Next, remember that politicos are professional manipulators with means none of us have).

What did I catch today on the portion of net that I browsed? One newspaper article. One! And seven tweets (three from US citizens).

Of course, it hurts to remember, and scars do heal (otherwise we'd all be depressed all the time), but since I haven't forgotten the rabid reactions of '02 and '03 (the fake example I gave is nothing compared with the actual posts that were sent back then), this adds to my sadness.

So, this slow healing somehow makes me sad, and I'm also sad because I remember how I learnt about it. I was on the phone with my mother, who'd called to warn me about the first tower, when the second one was hit.

I was on the other side of the world and I started crying for fellow humans who were hurt, because they're all sisters and brothers. Sometimes, I still get misty-eyed.

The one story I want to keep with me is the one of the elderly couple who got separated during the chaos, but who was reunited a few days later; they're (strangely perhaps) my symbol of hope when I think about this particular tragedy.

Do I wish that more people remembered more? Yes and no. We'd get less History repeating itself within just a generation if more people did remember, saw the warning signs and acted - but that's tough, and I understand the wish to preserve oneself. I understand that forgetfulness can be bliss in some cases, and we all react differently to loss and tragedies.

Bottom line: it's hard to be a human.

P.S.: that skyline is forever in my heart ->

Musical Plot Bunny

In that other literary life that's behind me now, my first big, serious plot bunny was full of music. It's completely mad, because it was a Frasier OST that inspired me to write my first big fanfic (the plot bunny was hugging in his paws several songs that were, I still remember very clearly how it all started, the spark that encouraged me to start writing again).

I grew up with music, and I love music.

A few hours ago, something odd happened as I listened to a piece of music that I've always had in my life (and now, I've got the MP3 on my tiny player). Suddenly, I saw a dancing couple, back when the musical piece was created.

I don't know who they are - yet.

I don't know their story/stories/adventures/whatever, but I've got a baby bunny on my lap, and over the next weeks (months?), he's going to take shape and tell me his tale.

Here's the bunny soundtrack:

Badvert Aplenty (International Edition)

Of course, I'm not in the business of making commercials or creating advertisements.

Nope. I'm not.

But... I'm the one in charge of shopping, and I'm the one in charge of the house and all the choices made for the house, and when I see stuff like this, well... I may overanalyse, but I gag:

Two companies, three commercials ->

First, a bank that wants to promote its international service for students:

Well, sorry, but what I see is a bloke stupid enough to go to the other side of the world without bothering to learn the few words that he's going to need in his everyday life (yea, I know, there are people like that, but non-preparation shouldn't be encouraged).
Then, there's the employee: she doesn't speak English, and when an obviously lost foreign student types the wrong words in his phone through a faulty translation programme, the one thing she thinks of is 'Oh, my God! Bank robbery!'.
On the YouTube page, it seems that the commenters find:
a - the bloke cute (I don't care one bit)
b - the commercial very funny

In my book, this is badvert because the student is made to look like a perfect idiot and the Chinese employee is shown as racist and stupid, which in turn, is deeply sexist - and racist.
Basically, hello cliché!

Then, a series of commercials from a company that sells sanitary protection.
With those, I give you two alleged boyfriends who are praising their girlfriends:
Bloke #1:

So, he likes his nutty girlfriend even though she's got a massive collection of bats in the attic. Awww! *gags*

Bloke #2:

I don't know if he could be more patronizing: 'She's my girlfriend - but I don't mean that I own her.'. Of course not, plonker! She's not your slave. *gags again*

What profoundly bugs me is that people were paid (paid!!!) to make this crap.
If either bloke were my boyfriend, I'd punch him and dump him in five seconds.

So, okay, we're spared the blue liquid that shows how efficient a sanitary thingy is supposed to be - because women bleed blue curaçao once a month, but that kind of sexist stupidity would make me dump a brand at the speed of light.
Now, we get sexist boys promoting sanitary protection. Why? Because boys are buying their girlfriends' sanitary protection? Because they're the ones shopping (yea, we've got decent, shopping blokes out there - but how many?)? Because it's too darn difficult for lil' gals to choose a sanitary protection brand, so they've got to be told by a man?
Bloody hell, I could smack someone! (Merlin be praised, the comments on those are mostly on my side, which is somewhat reassuring.)

*shakes head, growls a bit & beams out*