Does Multiply have a Fair Usage Policy (FUP) too?

Read this article about ISPs & Broadband connections.

"The amount of data that you download has a significant impact on your
broadband speed.

With each broadband package, you're assigned a download limit. Exceeding
this can either cost you money or result in a slower broadband connection.
If you've gone for an unlimited account, you may think that you're safe from
these concerns, but you're not. The reality is that all unlimited packages
are subject to a fair usage policy (FUP), which is anything but
straightforward and fair.

FUP disclaimers can be as the following examples: "excessive online
behaviour may result in termination of customer accounts without notice" and
"very heavy users may have their bandwidth restricted during peak time", or
even "usage not at a reasonable level may lead to disconnection of service".
Unfortunately, quantifying what is excessive, very heavy or not reasonable
is not made clear.

You can't blame the ISPs for wanting to cap broadband usage for fixed and
unlimited accounts. After all, they have only a finite amount of bandwidth
capacity, and it costs money to provide it. If usage truly were unlimited,
the network would become clogged within a very short period of time as users
soaked up the available bandwidth. Adding more capacity costs money and that
cost would have to be passed on by way of higher subscription fees and would
quickly be used up anyway. BT Wholesale, which provides the majority of raw
broadband supply to the ISPs, switched from billing by numbers of users or
total amount of data moved around to a system based upon capacity in 2004.
This means that ISPs are charged by the amount of data that can be carried
every second, and it has led to ISPs needing to control customer usage in
order to keep costs down.

The ISPs use traffic-shaping tools to spot what they regard as abnormal data
traffic, where there is continuous use of the full line capacity over an
extended period of time, such as might be experienced when using a file
sharing service. The bandwidth management system reacts to this and 'shapes'
traffic flow by reducing the available bandwidth, resulting in a dramatic
slowdown for the user.

Soft-capping is another method applied behind the scenes to shape traffic
flow and works by prioritising based upon application: online gaming and
internet telephone calls sit higher up the data transfer queue than web
surfing and email, while file-sharing users sit at the back. If the network
is quiet, then P2P users won't notice a slowdown; when it is busy, they
will. Customers who have gone over any monthly download limit are sent to
the back of the queue."



This is applicable to ISPs in general, but I'm wondering if free online
storage sites or even Multiply has a similar policy for maximum data that
can be stored.



Is this the reason Segaman's account is getting deleted repeatedly?


Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 24 Jan 2009 13:54 UTC
Message-id: 716787311S244

In pursuit of Hirsuteness

Rejected Titles: Fresh Prince of Bel-Hair, I am Hairy Legend, Wild Wild
Thatch, and Haircock, Enemy of the Hair and all other badly punned Will
Smith movies and sitcoms.



Fresh Prince of Bel-Hair lost out to 'In pursuit of Hirsuteness' by a hair's
breadth!

Sorry, No more Hairy jokes...I mean Bad jokes...



In pursuit of hirsuteness...is nothing new.

If you've watched the Russell Peters sketch, you'll know that we Indians are
hairy.

Scary Hairy!

Hairy Scary!

Even wimmen...if they get lazy.

I even had to post a 'how to ' video for underarm hair removal for a
clueless gal with an inclination towards sleeveless tops once.





I'm also the guy who asks you things that no one else thought about...

A friend told me I ask the most outrageous questions...they are, and they
come right out of the blue!``

But what I asked her was pretty tame.

I asked,' Why Don't You like me?' when it was really the opposite.

I mean she's the girl who broke up with her BF after meeting me!





Not conceding so easily to my question, she said that my basic line of
questioning was wrong, and that I had to ask her a slightly different
question...Hey! I know that...But really, can I ask her the opposite without
sounding like I am fishing desperately for compliments?



As I said, I ask weird questions...and once for fun, I asked a bunch of
girls about their opinion of chest hair in general...

The smart girls never give you the truth...their answers are veiled in
political correctness...they hem and haw...backtracks and change sides...

"Chest Hair? It all depends on the guy...whether he can carry it nicely or
not"...

"Chest Hair? Sometimes it looks good, sometimes bad" and other ambivalent
politically correct answers.



But really, c'mon, I mean, I'm the guy who can put Austin Powers to shame
with my man thatch...

Groovy Baby....

I put the 'rrr' in the hairrry baby...

Oh Behave!





It's actually the stupid girls, the bimbos and the socially inept girls that
give you the true answers...

"EWW!"

"Yuck!"

And other one word answers that pretty much sum it all up!



Here I do a small test...I tell them that I have wall to wall shag carpeting
on my chest that is softer than cashmere and angora.



Indifferent girls stick to their original answers.

"EWW!"

"Yuck!"

And sometimes 'STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU FREAK"



Other Girls suddenly backtrack...they hem and haw...they suddenly become
politically correct!

"Chest Hair? It all depends on the guy...whether he can carry it nicely or
not"

"Chest Hair? Sometimes it looks good, sometimes bad"

And other ambivalent bullshit answers.



But so far, only one girl has asked me if she could touch it...



I said, "Quid Pro Quo, Clarice, Quid Pro Quo"



Hirsuteness is a sign of intelligence, according to some research by some
Prof.Aikarudy...I've put that somewhere in my posts before to validate my
inflated ego.

It seems that scientists and doctors are much more hairy when compared to
manual laborers and other blue collar workers.

It was found that Mensa members are the hairiest of the lot!



It's always confusing in far east, where both men and women are relatively
hairless...I mean , I've stared at shapely smooth slick legs, only to
realize a bit too late that they belonged to a man...but have you noticed?
Most of the Far East population has no problems with baldness, whereas I've
always had a high forehead (like my dad), which is susceptible to premature
balding. (Not to worry my friend, stem cells will make baldness obsolete! If
not buy a rug)





I've never tried to shave my man thatch...too much work...can you imagine,
it takes ten minutes to drag a very sharp blade across my face, or as you
call it, for shaving , but my torso is at least 5 times larger in terms of
surface area, so shaving it might take a very long time!

Also I don't like the shaving blade going anywhere near my nipples...it
scares me (What??? They are sensitive)



The research also reveals that men with hairy backs (sexy backs?) are far
more intelligent...top surgeons and chess champions have always had hairy
chests and hairy backs. (Surprisingly not Einstein)



Recently on one of my narcissistic binges, I noticed that I had begun
sprouting back hair...right below the collar.

As these back hairs grow, I can feel additional neurons and axons and
dendrites connecting together in my brain and my brain getting denser in
grey matter...

Hey Stephen Hawking...you better watch out now.

There's a new kid in town and he's gonna blow your Grand Unified Theory out
of the solar system!
                             (Not my photo...just some hairy dude!)

Shadow

"At any moment that you find yourself hesitating, or if at any moment you
find yourself putting off until tomorrow trying some new piece of behavior
that you could do today, or doing something you've done before, then all you
need to do is glance over your left shoulder and there will be a fleeting
shadow.

That shadow represents your death, and at any moment it
might step forward, place its hand on your shoulder and take you, so that
the act that you are presently engaged in might be your very last act and
therefore fully representative of you as your last act on this planet."

-Carlos Castaneda



One of the ways you can use this constructively is to understand that it is
indulgent to hesitate. When you hesitate, you are acting as though you are
immortal. And you, ladies and gentlemen, are not.



You don't even know the place and the hour of your death.



And so one thing you can do... to remind yourself that not to bother to
hesitate is not to act unprofessional... is to just suddenly glance over
your left shoulder and remember that death is standing there, and make death
your advisor. He or she will always tell you to do something representative
of your full potential as a person.

You can afford no less.


Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Mon, 12 Jan 2009 01:09 UTC
Message-id: 713514223S121

My memories will haunt you

Those familiar footfalls that echo,
resound and reverberate,
quickening your pulse
are not mine, but they once were



My memories will haunt you...



Those endless susurrus of sweet nothings whispered,
as soft lips brush lightly
against your earlobes
are not mine, but they once were



My memories will haunt you
like a cold winter's breeze...
but I am your creation,
just a figment my dear!

a fragmented figment of your imagination



And those nimble fingers that trail
and trace your curves
and linger, so longingly linger
are not mine, but they once were



My memories will haunt you
like a cold winter's breeze
that touched you in places,
long forgotten out of existence



You reach out, arms outstretched
to touch, to hold,to surrender
But I fade away, rendered to wisps of past memories
and imaginings long forgotten



And My memories will haunt you
like a cold winter's breeze
that touched you in places, long forgotten out of existence
and surprise you with a shiver and a smile



And those caresses that tickle and make you blush,
those gentle tweaks that makes you flush
and shudder, Ah! Those wonderful guilty pleasures
memories that you still treasure
dissolve and crumble as you wake up...

and all you are left is with my memories

and my memories will haunt you
like a cold winter's breeze









p.s. I miss you too.

The Prince and the Magician

Once upon a time there was a young prince who believed in all

things but three. He did not believe in princesses, he did not

believe in islands, he did not believe in God. His father, the king,

told him that such things did not exist. As there were no princesses

or islands in his father's domains, and no sign of God, the

prince believed his father.



But then, one day, the prince ran away from his palace and

came to the next land. There, to his astonishment, from every

coast he saw islands, and on these islands, strange and troubling,

creatures whom he dared not name. As he was searching for a

boat, a man in full evening dress approached him along the shore.



"Are those real islands?" asked the young prince.

"Of course they are real islands," said the man in evening dress.

"And those strange and troubling creatures?"

"They are all genuine and authentic princesses."

"Then God must also exist!" cried the prince.

"I am God," replied the man in evening dress, with a bow.



The young prince returned home as quickly as he could.

"So, you are back," said his father, the king.

"I have seen islands, I have seen princesses, I have seen God,"

said the prince reproachfully.



The king was unmoved.



"Neither real islands, nor real princesses, nor a real God exist."

"I saw them!"

"Tell me how God was dressed." .

"God was in full evening dress."

"Were the sleeves of his coat rolled back?"

The prince remembered that they had been. The king smiled.

"That is the uniform of a magician. You have been deceived."

At this, the prince returned to the next land and went to the

same shore, where once again he came upon the man in full

evening dress.



"My father, the king, has told me who you are," said the

prince indignantly. "You deceived me last time, but not again.

Now I know that those are not real islands and real princesses,

because you are a magician."



The man on the shore smiled.



"It is you who are deceived, my boy. In your father's kingdom,

there are many islands and many princesses. But you are

under your father's spell, so you cannot see them."



The prince pensively returned home. When he saw his father,

he looked him in the eye.



"Father, is it true that you are not a real king, but only a

magician?"



The king smiled and rolled back his sleeves.

"Yes, my son, I'm only a magician."

"Then the man on the other shore was God."

"The man on the other shore was another magician."

"I must know the truth, the truth beyond magic."



"There is no truth beyond magic," said the king.



The prince was full of sadness. He said, "I will kill myself."



The king by magic caused death to appear. Death stood in the

door and beckoned to the prince. The prince shuddered. He

remembered the beautiful but unreal islands and the unreal but

beautiful princesses.



"Very well," he said, "I can bear it."



"You see, my son," said the king, "you, too, now begin to be

a magician."



The Magus, by John Fowles,


Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Tue, 06 Jan 2009 09:17 UTC
Message-id: 712090977S138

A little bit late for New Year Resolutions

I don't believe in new year resolutions.

If you really wanted to change, you wouldn't wait till the end of the year
and then consciously decide to change.



Repeat after me.



'You will change, and your conscious mind won't have anything to do with it.






I know that you have a vast array of resources available to you that your
conscious mind doesn't even suspect.



You have the ability to surprise yourself, each and every one of you.

Amen '





Also, I'm a bit late, now that so many days have gone by, but if I were to
make a New Year Resolution, It would be me asking to learn the art of
forgiveness and the art of forgetfulness.



But since we are playing the game of 'If I were to', I'd like to add a few
more to the list.

If I were to make a New Year Resolution, it would be to:



Get a girlfriend. (It's about time now.I Know, you and I both believe that I
don't deserve one.but hey, can't I even get half a girlfriend? Hmm.now I
wonder which supermarket has girlfriends in it. Which aisle? What section? I
hope they have something in my size.small or medium.something nice.something
that's right for all occasions and not too expensive)



Learn another Musical instrument, Hmm...I've always wanted to learn the
Piano or the Mouth Organ, whichever my (non-existent) Girl Friend likes. How
about a digiridoo? How about getting thrown out of the house?



Do something really disgusting and totally love it.watch a Hillary Duff
movie...or Sex & the City or both in one sitting (find out your threshold
limit)





Stop wearing Tight Jeans. Being able to wear them is not why you should be
wearing them. Tight jeans are cooking your family jewels.



Stop wearing tight T-shirts.your nipples are poking out plus your bitch tits
are drooping. and it ain't pretty.



Moisturize.



Eat more: Just because you don't like the food is no reason for skipping
dinner and going hungry.



Exercise less: You don't want to end up like a muscular jock. Huge muscles
are ugly.



Wear Bling-Bling. Invest in Gold Teeth Caps.



Let somebody love you.



Repeat after me.



'You will change, and your conscious mind won't have anything to do with it.






I know that you have a vast array of resources available to you that your
conscious mind doesn't even suspect.



You have the ability to surprise yourself, each and every one of you.

Amen '



Never underestimate the usefulness of just saying that to yourself or
others.



If you really congruently act as if you have the resources and are going to
change, you begin to induce impetus in the unconscious.



In other words, 'Just Pretend'


Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Mon, 05 Jan 2009 17:44 UTC
Message-id: 711928646S79

Forgiveness

Forgiveness has always been impossible.

Because I cannot forget, I cannot forgive.

But I don't bear a grudge.

It's far too draining to harbor hatred or resentment for eons.

What I do is practice Passive Unforgiveness.

It's simple.

It is cold and effective.

I deny your existence in my map of reality.

I erase you out of my existence.

That's it.



I remember.

My childhood friends. The ones I grew up with.

Someone among them broke my dog's leg.

I never found out who.

They used a bat.

I remember the blood curdling yelp that pierced the silent night.

The hind foot was broken, with the bones shattered beyond repair and the
broken foot dangling by a thin thread of tissue.

She was in unbearable agony for days and had to limp for the rest of her
life.

But what was worse was she had lost her faith in humans.

She'd shiver at the sight of humans and slink away simpering silently in
fear.

Even the gentlest touch would cause her to yelp in pain.



Then they tried to bully me into putting the dog to sleep.

(It's Funny how I could never bring myself to call her a bitch. Maybe it's
because I loved her)

They failed miserably, for they were a just bunch of riff raffs.



I suddenly woke up and saw how low my so called friends could stoop.



It wasn't really a difficult decision.



I erased them out of my existence.

All of them.





They don't exist anymore, but sometimes they try to get in touch.

I deny permission.

Frozen ghosts and woolly mammoths cannot make contact with the living.

The ice has not thawed.

The ice age is still upon us.

And between us.

They remain in stasis.Un-forgiven.



Sometimes letting go is harder because your heart is involved.

Some ghosts are relentless.

They invade your dreams, the one place which you have no conscious control
over.

I've been having these recurring dreams of this friend whom I had removed
from existence.

The dreams are increasing in frequency and duration. If it's an attempt to
communicate, then it is a message, that either one of us is not ready to be
removed from each other's existence.

But the living cannot touch ghosts and ghosts cannot whisper to the living.

Not when I decide.

Not when they remain un-forgiven.

Not when I deny permission.

But those dreams...those dreams, they are so painful because I remember
everything when I wake up.

But I want to remember none of it.

In These dreams I'm participating in the other's life, and sometimes forced
into the position of an observer of the everyday mundanity and commonness of
that life, and it is heart wrenching.

The ache and the gravitational pull are overwhelming.



Letting go is harder when the heart is involved.



So I tell the heart to shut up and listen to the crystal iciness of the
unforgiving mind.

The mind remembers coldness, thus it can be unforgiving , while the heart
remembers only heat , so it can love, hate or froth in rage.



Unforgiveness needs frigidity, just like love needs warmth.

Hate, born at the seat of the heart in heat, is love's polar opposite.

What heats up must cool down or else explode and self-destruct.

I don't want either to happen.



But when the chill subsides , all that is left is tepid indifference.

And that's what I aim for.



I don't believe in New Year resolutions.

If you really wanted to change, you wouldn't wait till the end of the year
and then consciously decide to change.



But If I were to make a New Year Resolution, It would be me asking to learn
the art of forgetfulness and the art of forgiveness.






Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 03 Jan 2009 15:14 UTC
Message-id: 711407529S202