It's been a rollercoaster ride, this past day. Approximately now, 24 hours ago, I was sat in the Ship and Mitre pub in Liverpool. I'd been bamboozled – someone said the beer festival was on til the 20th – cue an excited yomp up Dale Street awaiting a ridiculous number of perries and ciders.

The festival finished on the 17th. My tastebuds were in a right old pickle when I wrapped my eager mouth around a moderately enjoyable Titanic Lifeboat instead of an Old Cock, or whatever was left in the barrel when they carted the final one away on Sunday.

So that was moment number 1. A trip to the Belvedere followed (in at 2), where another somebody had insinuated rich pickings from the pub kitchen. The student behind the bar, who appeared to be on a trip when we arrived, was slow to point out that nutrition wasn't on the menu that night, so we slipped a couple of golden halves down to tease the oesophagus and trundled down to the Philharmonic.

This is where things took a definite turn for the better (3).

I'd been led to believe the Philharmonic pub, on Hope Street opposite the theatre of the same name (minus the 'pub'), was a bit of a honeypot for pie lovers. Last time I went in there wasn't a real ale on draught for love nor money (and I certainly wasn't in the mood to dispense my body in exchange for some fizzy keg tosh so filthy lucre was all that was on the table) so I left dejected and swore ne'er to return.

I believe in karma and that book called The Secret says it all for me, so even though the evening was set to continue on a ski slope curve towards absolute despair, I figured a turnaround could be just around the corner.

And coming up Hardman Street, it was. The Philharmonic seemed to exude hope (4). And it didn't let us down.

Well it did, to start with. I'd chucked in my request for the steak, mushroom and cheese pudding. And it was off. Or rather, mildly unavailable. And news of my second choice, chicken and leek, didn't reach the order taker so I unwittingly settled for steak in ale pie (5).

What a happy accident that was. Lashings of chump steak, swimming in thick, rich gravy and surrounded on all sides by pastry so moist and standing so proud it could have rolled out of the ovens at Ramsay HQ.

Geoff Capes' fistful of mash and cabbage and carrots cooked to perfection (6), rolling in more of the gravy that made the pie headline news. It was all too good to be true. But it was – true, that is! A lovely pint of something washed the savoury treat away and then we marched across the road to the Philharmonic Hall for a performance by musos of all shades and sizes in The Imagined Village (7).

I figured only a couple of years ago that you can't write about everything, knowledgeably. Yet as a young and impressionable journo I'd flit from political analysis to car boots sales to restaurant reviews to concert previews back to car boot sales. You reckon you can take on any challenge when you're immune to reality.

So I won't stun you with an NME-style carnival of multi-syllabic words expressing the band's ethereal splendour. What I will say is you must, must, must go and see them. Helmed by Martin Carthy and his bosomy daughter Eliza, it's a creation that betters Bellowhead in defining folk's renaissance and bringing together some of the greatest performers in world music (8).

Today takes up the rest of the 10. I've been working like a hound trying to fit all the bits of this WordPress site together for a client who has no idea how much effort it takes to get things just so.

I feel like I'm relearning CSS from scratch. I've thrown in so many comments to the stylesheet that on occasions I've been hair-pulling when removing an errant comment /* would have done the trick (9).

It's all an incredible learning curve, however, and I'm duty bound to finish it, especially since the cheque for the finished job arrived today.

Character building, my old gaffer would say. I still throw darts at his head on a board, even today, although since the court case I replaced it with a photo (10).

Posted via email from 10 for 10

Part of the challenge us technology communicators have is the very job itself – being buried in the latest stuff to bring you the ideas and insights that will make your life easier, more fun and more effective.

But by the same token it can often make our downtimes more limited, and in themselves more challenged.

I'm the first to say 'I neglect you' to mine other half when I should be able to bellow from the rooftops, 'I have given you everything'.

I think the old, ginger one out of the Spice Girls said it best. Recounting her last relationship (and there have been a few…) with a geek in 'Say You'll Be There', she squawked:

I'm giving you everything all that joy can bring this I swear
(I give you everything – that's the other ones that sang that)
And all that I want from you is a promise you will be there
Say you'll be there (Say you will be there)
Won't you sing it with me

So, don't let it slip or slide. There are times when your work is the most important thing on earth. Least, that's how it feels in the moment. But then think back to when you were in the moment of a spot of 'lover lover' and I'm sure you'll agree, work is worthless, vapid by comparison.

People love people – not productivity. So when your computer tugs you by the sleeve (or you could just have a thread caught between the Y and U keys) or you duck out of bed for a late-night coding sesh, remember this: your partner wants you to show you…

1. Care. Steal moments from the job in hand. Get down the shops and buy her some nice cereal. Or he. Let's be honest, us geeks don't all have dangly bits. Care means being there but it also means being excitable and spontaneous. Do something out of the ordinary. And if taking him/her to the theatre doesn't do the trick, push them, fully-clothed, into a fountain.

2. Can. Be true to yourself and make the impossible, possible. Because you know my friend, there's no such thing as can't. Genuinely. I've seen numberless examples of things that looked out-of-this-world that were brought down to an Earth level by a stiff constitution and a determination we can all aspire to. And maybe a large whisky.

3. Are strong. You don't have to pull a cart round the town centre to demonstrate your lack of fragility. Being strong is about making decisions.

Challenge for you: Go for a month without saying 'I don't mind', or 'it's up to you'. Within reason – if it's his/her birthday, you might choose to forego making the choice once or twice. But seriously this stuff is gold: not only does seizing the day, or Carpe Diem to you Romans, make a big, positive impression on S/HWMBO – it also makes you enormously aroused as to your potency. Try it: it'll make everyone smile.

4. Can cook. I'm totally down with this one. I have this secret hankering to be a chef. I read Londonelicious, and all those blogs where people go to restaurants every flickin day and rattle on about how incredible their dining habits are. And you know what? It's because there's an invisible connection between eating and loving. You eat good, you love great.

Secret 1: Oven avoiders can make a huge impact by following Delia Smith's ridiculously simple How to Cheat at Cooking book. Get yourself a basket of pre-concocted ingredients from M&S (mince beef in gravy in a tin) and a bag of spuds, and you got yourself a lush cottage pie. And a juicy lady or guy who will adore you forever (or at least until you burn the ice cream on your next culinary adventure).

5. Have fun. Don't be serious – be a Lebowski, dude. Be prepared to poke fun at yourself, to laugh big.

Here's secret numero 2: the bigger you laugh, the better you are. In business, in the bedroom. Shocked? Think about it. You network to a serious level, you get into a conversation about work – the economy, greenhouse gases, why Gordon Brown is an utter 'tard, something like that. One of you sparks up with a light-hearted aside – you bellow like a fool. It's a way of diffusing the tough times and making a new friend. And snatching a contract from under the nose of your staunchest competitor. The same rules apply at home – kind of.

6. Can say sorry. In the kitchen, in the car, in the conservatory – be the first one to apologise. It doesn't matter whose fault it is, just clear the goddamn air. Disagreements are natural and part of life but don't get bogged down in the detail. I know this: whatever you're arguing about isn't what you care about. You just want a snarl, and now you got it. So drop it, move on, make a little love, cook a little pie. But for heaven's sake, crack a joke and motivate yourself out of your rabbit hole of uselessness. Debates are fine – disagreements are poisonous. See their side, and whether or not they see yours, you'll be doing yourself a favour to get rid of the situation. And make a note to next time chew on a rope instead.

7. Have a smart inner geek. Everyone knows the ladies love a smartly turned-out gadget herbert. To be a technologist you have to be extraordinarily clever. Girls and boys love the intelligence thing. It means you're an expert communicator (even if you don't have the confidence, you ARE, believe me) and can see like Superman through problems that other homosapiens would struggle with. Man/woman, you're incredible. So covet and treasure your ample abilities and go shine on your cohort.

8. Think alternatively. Lateral cogitation is like your sixth sense. Your friends in manufacturing may have an aptitute for sproggets and bobbins but you, my friend, are in the zone when it comes to new ideas. They say you need to conquer your inner entrepreneur, technician and manager: but people look to you to spark inspiration. This applies equally to your love kingdom. Switch off the tv and show him what the lounge was really built for. Guys, recreate the cover of Scandal ready for your lady friend to return from work. Learn parcour and go jump off a building. I tell you one thing that works above all: making a picture of their face comprised of tiny little pictures of the places you've been and the things you've done together. Man, that rocks. I want one: Princess?

9. Help others. Get down the soup kitchen, rock out with those less fortunate than yourself. Help the homeless in Haiti with a contribution of your skills, be the next Chris Moyles and join your local Talking Newspaper group so the blind have to suffer current affairs junk, too.

10. Read widely. Don't do what I do, do what I say… I have a library stacked full of business propaganda masquerading as fine advice. It's not big or clever to bury yourself in manuals, guides and Dummies books the whole day long. Experiment with fiction.

Secret 3: there's a mind-boggling site that sends a few minutes of stunning reading material to your inbox or RSS feed every day. It's called DailyLit and it means it's safe for folks like you and me to fork intellectually without leaving the comfort of our screens. Books and pixels in perfect harmony!

11. Can write. Evidently 'can count' is missing from this list, for personal reasons. A message a day keeps the counsellor away. After making the Coco Pops sing as they endure third-degree burns in my scalding pot of milk, popping a Vit C, dishing out the Actimel and packing a lunch fit for a tiny queen (for she eats like a sparrow with constipation) I create a piece of prose on a green slab of cardboard. It is thrust with adulation into the carrier bag containing such miscellaneous digestibles as a foil-wrapped pair of Oreos (neither of us like them but I can't bear to throw them away – all those hungry people…) and perhaps some Haribo Starmix. It makes her day and it kickstarts mine. Ready to foist myself into the hotseat to create a blog post worthy of your time.

Well, was it? Let me know if any of these tips, y'know, resonate. If not, why not?

Posted via email from 10 for 10

Having just about bounced back from a particularly tardy finish on the blogging front, I'm probably in a great place, yet terrible time to uncover the truth about blogging.

I just found that there are 15 million blogs on the web. Now there are 15.2m. By the time you read this there will be more blogs than phones and people combined. Here and on Mars.

Having a burning desire to learn from as many people as possible, I'm quite frustrated that I might never be able to get round all these blogs. But this can only be a good thing. Not everyone has something valuable to say. And God forbid, there may be other sites out there like this one, and like me you might prefer to experiment with sticking hot pins in your eyes rather than risk another error of judgement.

I only wish when I started at the University of Blognor in Wales (well it exists in my head) I knew the stuff I know now. I might have chosen cookery instead.

See, when it comes to blogs, they don't say:

1. The clock moves faster. I swear it wasn't 4.30am when I finally nipped and tucked this blasted site into submission. I had undergone hair-stripping angst at the categoric failure to fix my broken comments system. The problem resulted from my lack of focus on the intricacies of point 5. If you take pride in the content you manufacture, then the chances are the time will fly at a speed exceeding Richard Branson's spaceship. To entertain and captivate you I underwent years of training at newspapers, magazines and websites. I don't believe the journey of education ever ends, but I did (falsely) believe that after nearly 15 years of writing this blog stuff would consist of a lightningly-quick post every day. In reality, we're talking at least an hour every time. That's an hour of my working day devoted specifically to you. I can't start any earlier, because Princess loves snuggles and won't sacrifice any of them for your eyes. Start a campaign.

2. Care? Code! When I started this journey I was defiant – I'd have the skills I needed to captain a blog because, hell, I could write. And that's what blogging is about, right? Well, wrong. If you have ideas above your station and want to get yourself a fully customised web presence, you can't just rely on a free theme and a tickled ego. There's CSS to learn, PHP to give you suicidal tendencies. Thankfully the web is replete with all sorts of funky things to help you step closer to madness. W3Schools has a great 'spaz' PHP tutorial list, echoecho can sort out your CSS catastrophes while lynda.com has fantastic video series devoted to both quirky ways to roll. And when you have questions? Try the excellent forums at SitePoint and WebmasterWorld

3. Making money is harder than impossible. This is a dark art as garbled as SEO right now. I'm sick to the core of people churning out self-serving 'ways to make $$$' eBooks. Actually that's only a half-truth. If the eBooks work, then they are better than beer. But most don't, believe me. The first thing you need to do is buy the OIO Publisher plugin which is just the most amazing way to manage and serve up adverts ever. If I can do it, believe me, you can do it with ease. The support and tutorials are superb and they even just launched a 'wizard' to install the plugin direct to your site (WordPress or otherwise) from the OIO website. Having said that, there's some chap who puts out an absolutely genius ebook about why…

4. Pillar content rules! It took me five years to get it. To understand how you become a respected member of the electro-chattyverse. You write a single post or series of features devoted to removing someone else's problem. It could be your problem. But if you document it and hit the nail on the head by scratching the itch, you have friends for life. My favourite pillar content creator du jour is David Doolin, aka Dr WordPress. Through experience and straightforward genius he saw there were still people in the world who wanted to set up a blog. So to those nine people (eight… seven…) David said: "Look – give me a weekend, and I'll give you a blog. A bloody amazing blog!" And he pulls it off in such an entertaining and educational way, that even blog regularists will learn something from his wise 2.5 day tutelage. Start here.

And while you're here, why not take up David to personally building your website over a weekend for just $300 – with every penny going to relief efforts for Haiti.

5. .htaccess matters. It matters so much it chewed six hours out of my Saturday night. That raised the hackles, let me tell you. I had no idea I had a .htaccess in the root of my server space which was reigning roughshod across my other blog sites. It meant my comments system was redirecting to a non-existent page. 404-tastic! It caused me a marathon head fug to not understand the true might of this security-driven file. It drove me mad. It drove my web host mad. But we got there.

The difference between needing to know .htaccess at a basic level is the difference between hosts. I didn't really need to know much at fatcow, but with clook, which is a really nice web host with the best support imaginable, it mattered. Check out Josiah Cole's 'almost-perfect .htaccess file' for WordPress and change all the yourdomainhere.com elements to, well, your domain name before uploading it to the root of your blog site. And check out more about .htaccess and the power it wields over everything you blog.

6. Plugins are inherently evil. They make things slow. There are exceptions like WP Super Cache and Headspace2 SEO and the Google Analytics for WordPress plugins but in most cases these days either WordPress has filled in the gaps the plugins plugged, or you can fix some code with the limitless guidance on WordPress hacks from the likes of Jeffro's WP Tavern, Digging Into WordPress and Marko Saric's How To Make My Blog.

7. Permissions. Permissions can mess your site up royally. They're either impassable sentinels or free-for-all and there seems very little middle ground. One thing you need to know is how to change them when you suddenly come up against a brick wall. Make absolutely sure your code isn't at fault then dive in to the Permissions on an individual file level, before changing the Permissions of an entire folder. You do this in FileZilla (my FTP client of choice) by right-clicking on the file and selecting Permissions. If what you're doing is blocked, go for 755 and if not, 777 (but unless absolutely necessary, restore its previous Permissions because leaving the gate widen open – as 777 does – can be a security issue).

8. You gotta write like a literary ninja. I've decided to banish all evil scribbling f
ro
m the web. I'm hoping this will be a crowdsourcing strategy. I may use that Mechanical Turk website but I'm thinking it would probably cost Barack Obama's annual salary alone just to get rid of the spelling mistakes from websites operated by bed and breakfast joints.

Since my pockets are not bottomless I have decided to adopt a slightly different tactic. I will be helping everyone around me to write better instead. Watch this space…

9. You need a book. You have four options: The WordPress Bible, Digging Into WordPress, How To Be A Rockstar WordPress Designer and the frankly now-outdated WordPress 2.7 Cookbook. Let's roll with it: Digging for code, Rockstar for design, Cookbook for a smorgasbord of everything. Like a finger buffet with chicken and mushroom Toast Toppers vol-au-vents. Don't lie – you love 'em too!

10. Check out frameworks! It's the future for everyone. There – I said it. Frameworks are the skeletons upon which you mould the flesh of your site. So you start with an impermeable (but basic-looking) foundation with all the code you need, then using CSS and a bit of PHP (realistically, as much as you feel comfortable with) craft your own unique blog site. Thematic is incredible. Hybrid – a Justin Tadlock production – shows incredible potential and he's even dispensing solid insinuations he may soon be working on a model not dissimilar to the 'tailor your own home page shifting blocks about' concept first employed at the BBC website. Focus on these. There are others, but for invaluable support you can't go wrong.

Posted via email from 10 for 10

We all love convenience – us geeks call it convergence when we talk about multiple products being brought together in one device.
Today we’re going to take a look at ‘camera phones’ or, as someone mistakenly referred to them in one of those websites where every bit of technology is ‘awesome’, smartphones.
Some federal chap somewhere in th’America recently told people over there that if they started massaging brands by being overly fond of their wares for no apparent, reason, they’d come down on them like a ton of trash.
Well this evidently didn’t come into force when they coined the word smartphone.Exhibit A is the HTC Magic. It’s powered by this schnarky narky Android operating system, which basically means Google lives in my phone.

My hate-love-hate relationship with this phone started, as you might imagine, badly.

I took it on a long, long charity walk. The battery was rubbish, and because I’m an organised kinda guy, I didn’t think about carrying a spare.

I hated the fact it didn’t have a keyboard, since I planned on using it for blogs (see even when I plan it doesn’t work). And I found the interface a pile of bobbins.

When I got back with sore knees I got it and Android showed itself to be a very flexible partner in telecommunications activities. The Marketplace, a bit like the App Store for the iPhone, was stuffed with great enhancements and stuff.

And I recently got so angry with it I would have thrown it out the window, but there was plenty of snow on the ground and instead of smashing into smithereens, it would merely have sat there, like some forlorn electronic puppy dog, until a hapless soul took pity on it and the curse was merely transferred.

This was because I changed phone networks – to o2, and switched to a Pay As You Go contract. £15 credit, and ‘unlimited internet’ as part of the deal.

My HTC Magic might be able to read, because on discovering the new SIM card it soaked up all my ‘unlimited internet’ allocation (which in itself is a little contradictory, don’t you think) on a freak auto-update frenzy and proceeded to Pac Man all my credit. Twice. Ever since then my Google phone hasn’t been able to dance the Google boogie because o2 haven’t restored my unlimited internet (limited through a technical glitch, it has been said) and show no intention of so doing.

I hate o2 and I hate the HTC Magic equally.

About them photos:

• I hate Vodafone as much as I hate o2. Here’s what happened: I took on a 12-month eat-as-much-as-you-like mobile broadband package with Vodafone. I was told in the shop it was unlimited and then BOOM, one day it slowed to the speed of a sponsored walk for snails to the salt mines. They said it was FUP (Fair Use Policy – I said it was FUP too, but they misheard me; twice) and I said YOU LIE. Eventually I managed to persuade them to cancel the contract, and sent the dongle back. It took them a month and five days to acknowledge receipt, and 16 emails later I cottoned on to the magic of customer service on Twitter. The matter was addressed in a couple of days. I still have this receipt in case they ever come back to ask me if I sent them that stupid dongle.
• Some of my most favourite moments in life have been spent in Liverpool. Most of them have been related to drinking unfortunate amounts of booze and some have been related to moments of absolute sobriety which I have occasionally captured on camera. God, not THIS ‘camera’! This is a picture of St George’s Hall at Christmas, during an event designed exclusively to welcome my most vital organ that this city has single-handedly attempted to destroy.
• These penguins were part of a really stupid stunt. Liverpool shot to fame as the home for weird animal-based objects with the Superlambanana which it ripped off from some Japanese artist and subsequently had to pay a fortune to. After such incredible fortune with the half tropical fruit, half frolicking Sunday dinner, I was surprised to hear they were preparing a welcoming committee for these supersized Arctic inhabitants. You didn’t have to come face to face with one to realise how rubbish they were. And there really were some rubbish ones: they let all sorts of people slop designs on them, and half of them looked like someone had sworn paint all over them.
• I like spelling mistakes more than you so this won’t make much difference to your life. However, you must admit the thought of dining out on a crusty oll in a public place rankles with your inner modesty.
• Tell your children to hide next year, because I’m the real Father Christmas. Here’s proof. It was quite difficult making people believe me on the day this crappy picture was taken on my phone, though, because it was the Santa Dash – where 6,000 people dressed up to mimic me and raise money for local pubs.
• The weather here is almost as cruddy as this phone. There we were, driving up the M whatever and all hell breaks loose with God’s dandruff. Obviously I wasn’t driving: I have people to do that for me. It’s because they know what I’m capable of when I have a phone with an integrated camera at my disposal. I’m like the 21st century frickin’ Leonardo da Caprio when I get my hands on this cameraphone. See this photo? It actually says ‘Snow’ on that M-way sign, but you can’t even SEE THE SIGN! That’s how amazing my photography is. I see stuff, and share it with you. For free.
• Someone stole the stoopid sand! I was like ohmigod we’re in Scarborough – there’s the donkeys, here’s the amusements, there’s that tramps that always eats from bins, that’s there’s cockles shop. So where the hell did the beach go [sic]! In retrospect I should perhaps have figured out that on account of there being a heavy snowfall that day, there may have been snow also on the strand. But I theorised that there wouldn’t be because the salty air would have stopped it sticking on the beach. There was. Bewildered and slightly dazed as the natural phenomenon dawned on me, my angel proceeded to make a hybrid snow/sand angel and everything was ok again. Everything, that is, apart from this fool of a phone.
• I like cheeky grammatical swordmanship more than you so you won’t be moved here. But my goodness – fancy calling your burgers ‘Wirral-famous’! If you got one of those American types to recite that phrase it would probably sound like ‘world-famous’, which would be very hilarious indeed. A fine marketing ploy. The burger was in fact pretty good, although I only had a nibble. We were at What’s Cooking at Albert Dock after I spied an offer on Twitter. They were giving two mains for £7 which I thought was a smashing deal, until I found out the couple on the next table had the same amount of food for £5. I then proceeded to wreak absolute havoc, swearing under my breath for perhaps a couple of seconds and missing the urinal on purpose, splashing a little bit of wee on the floor. That’ll learn em to duel with the Davester.
• Bonus content! Ok so it might be the 10th, so not technically bonus per se, but it’s a series of moving pictures, sort of. I was all excited last night (after my rampage through the restaurant, which also included me virtually demanding another ice cube to keep my cocktail cool) so I decided to record a video hyping up my next big service to change the world. I’d apologise for the quality of the recording, but it was produced on my HTC Magic.

Posted via email from 10 for 10

Today proves to be the first real test in the 10 for '10 series.

Yesterday I spent the entire working session working like an eager beaver on a big magazine feature which essentially sapped my reserve for extra-curricular scribing.

It's dripping outside, which helps not in the 'alternative ways to build a '10'' category. 10 videos, perhaps, or 10 photos. Of 10 different vegetables in their natural environment. I'd go with 10 different cathedral views but here in Liverpool there are only 8. Views, that is. Before anyone objects or questions my rationale, I dismiss you all: I counted them with my fingers so it must be true.

So there I was, plodding the flat and banging my head against anything less soft than a slice of toilet roll, and something literally fell into my box:

"Can I pick your brains if possible. I have asked about 10 people would they like to be interview for the magazine in different sectors and they said yes , but I need to send them questions. May I ask your opinion on what would be the best questions to ask to make the magazine interesting."

It's always nice to be asked a question, but without promise of payment in any form the natural inclination is somewhere between bugger off and yes – 'WILL A BOY EVER BE BORN WHO CAN SWIM FASTER THAN A SHARK?'

Well, Paul, you plopped in at the right time. You need me, and quite unexpectedly, I need you.

So you want to launch a magazine, or an ezine, or you just want to add some flair to your blog. You want to get the best out of your interviewee. You ask me – flattering but the right way to go about it, since I'm an experienced journalist and editor.

There's a secret formula known only to reporters and most English students. And secretaries – dear God, I love a secretary. Especially one in a pencil-line skirt and tight mohair sweater.

But back to the plan. This secret is thus:

1. How
2. What
3. Where
4. When
5. Why

Yes, the very fundament of interrogation relies on the four rugby players bums (W W W W) on the goalposts (H), as my journalist teacher Jeanette once eloquently described it.

How did you start?
How did it happen?

And of course, to kick things off in convivial fashion:

How are you?

What is it?
What possessed you?
What's next?

Where did you get the idea?
Where does it hurt?
Where did you last see your mother?
Where can I buy it?
Where are your customers located?

When will it be available?
When did you last see a doctor?
When did you begin the project?
When did it all start to make sense?
When did you get the funding?

Why will people want it?
Why did you invent it?
Why did you leave the back door open, anyway?
Why did you put that, there?
Why didn't you wear the mohair sweater?

Not bad, eh? And it's only just 9am. I rock!

6. KISS. Eurgh! Get off! I mean Keep It Simple, Stupid. And next time, shave first – how do I explain this beard scuff to my girlfriend?

7. What's your expected outcome? You can either follow an interview 'roadmap' (thanks to all at Orange Lake Resorts for introducing me to the first Americanism that actually makes sense) that will take you to your intended result – or go with the WWWWH Dummies Guide To Asking Questions formula that will workhorse you towards a random result that, actually, will be more interesting than what you expected.

I cannot stress at this point that, in my experience at least, no matter how much planning and preparation you put in for your interviews, whether by email or face to face/Skype, you'll ALWAYS end up with something completely unexpected, and far more exciting and intriguing than you ever imagined. That's the beauty of people like you and me. We're all deliciously weird.

8. Ego massage. 100 times out of 99 your interviewee is a little bemused at being asked to contribute to a masterpiece. That, again, Dr Watson, is human nature. No matter your status in life, it's always enormously flattering to be sought as a genius of some form. So go one step further and let them know you care about their answers, that in some way they are making a direct contribution to the evolution of humanity. I don't mean be a sycophant, but it's so good to be able to warmly introduce yourself and say "I was prompted to contact you in the first instance after reading what x said about you." So long as it wasn't her husband after finding out about what she did with THAT mango and the Leonardo di Caprio poster.

9. Write like an Egyptian. Them crazy followers of the Sun God had it right thousands of years before A A Gill and Will Self figured it out. The pyramid effect. It's not just for the Pharaoh's tomb you know – it's equally critical to the application of fine writing. When you craft your piece, get the important gubbins in right at the start. The introduction should tell your fans everything they need to know – and this is more critical than ever when you're trying to mesmerise an online audience. Get the naked rugby stars and their field furniture in here, and you're the next Jeffrey Archer. Another secret: the greatest introductions to (news) stories are 28 words long. Second paragraph in, start fleshing out the details. The pyramid effect is so designed for journalism so that your sub can come in and cut from the bottom of the story without sacrificing the flow of the story. Subbing? That reminds me…

10. Edit. Don't worry – that wasn't a form of self-censorship although I admit on your behalf that that action may sometimes be more necessary than actually happens. When I say edit, I mean the most important part of your job as wannabe journalist: be harsh and sub the hell out of what you think is the final piece de resistance. If it's 500 words then hack it down to 300.

Now get out there and win a Pulitzer!

Posted via email from 10 for 10

* Stop press * I have been challenged to an intriguing blog duel by a highly-intelligent, slick and suave web operator with a horse. I need your support. Stay tuned, stay strong…

On Tuesday night on a stroll through Arctic Liverpool I was whingeing to princess that lethargy and a significant life change in ’09 had meant I hadn’t connected with as many influencers and knowledge workers as that year’s Me Manifesto had desired.All the self-development experts, from Napoleon Hill and Dale Carnegie right through to the modern-day masterminds of motivation such as Tony Robbins, advocate you should surround yourself with a network of smart people with proven success in the area of business you aspire to.

But none of these demi-gods trained and refined their philosophies under a digital sky. Sure, Robbins is on TED.com but most of his stuff even preceded CD.

What’s a guy to do to get himself recognised in 2010?

1. Comment widely – you have to get the word out to show people what you know. As long you as know it. This is important, otherwise you’re impotent and need to go stretch your wings and find someplace else to play. Once you know you have the smarts for a particular subject matter, you need to haul your intellectual derriere over to someplace like Technorati to find the blogs practising what you preach. Get in there and spread some delight. Forums are great for commenting, too, but I don’t know a place you should go to find an encyclopaedia of forums so you’ll have to do that bit yourself.
2. Know. Find your niche. Niche has been nice ever since forever but it’s especially critical now. There are more people online in 2010 than before. This means more people competing for your space. It’s not helped by the fact that there are literally more people, as opposed to more readily available internet access everywhere. If you can’t stir lusty women to commit to birth control, then at the very least you should get ahead by expanding your mind and sharing the spoils with you devoted disciples.
3. Speak. So once I have my niche, where do I put it? Well, you need to comment widely (a-ha!), literally taking your ‘keyboard pen’ to sites far and wide. But more than that – you need to talk to people. Pass your business card around, for sure. But talking – making a lasting impression – renders you instantly awesome. And the best way to do that is to go and deliver a fascinating talk or take to the podium at a conference or Tweetup. Keep it short, keep it relevant, and keep them wanting more.
4. Make headlines. There are no end of article marketing services out there (ezine, today.com, helium etc) desperate to make your scribbly genius widely available and craved. There are free PR distribution services if you’ve carved up your own unique niche that people need to know about. So get it out there. Befriend a journalist. Hijack some column inches, pixellated or printed. Failing that, start your own ezine and market yourself in the media on your own terms.
5. Think ‘tribe’. Connect, identify, show and tell, lead. Epitomised in a far sweeter rendition of intelligence by the God of marketing, Seth Godin.
6. Get expert status. Credibility is currency. Read The Expert’s Edge by Ken Lizotte to find out how you can become a thought leader. You need to be recognized as a go-to expert with an impeccable reputation. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.
7. Review your gains, bin your losses. Focus on what got you the greatest traction last year. Dump stuff you struggle with (unless there’s a way through the mud this year).
8. Host webinars. I absolutely flickin love watching and listening to people. You’re in one of two camps with this – you either learn from books, or you don’t. In my case I definitely don’t, yet video and audio learning has been my crook on a number of occasions, supporting me in my bid to learn code, deconstruct Dreamweaver and go pro with Photoshop. To host your own, try it free at Vyew or if you want to go audio-only, either Talkshoe or Blog Talk Radio.
9. Write an ebook. Hey this is on my list for 2010, too! You’ll be immeasurably amazed – your cohorts and companions, too – when you knock up a sweet serenade of hints and tips focused on your core expertise.
10. Get out there. Get a Facebook Fan Page; use LinkedIn Answers. Make Twitter work for you by checking out the invaluable guide at Mashable. Connect using buzom.com. Follow the trending topics and pass comment if it’s your area of expertise. Spread your word and tell people to RSS you.
11. Monitor yourself. Three of the best – StepRep, SocialMention and Monitter will help you get to the bottom of what’s being said. About you. A great method of self-discovery and discerning feedback. So you think you have all the answers? Maybe not.
12. Know your audience. Sounds simple? I can’t think of more than a handful of writers who could say, hand on heart, they truly understand the needs of their readers. Swear to God. It surprises and shocks me that this is the case. I thought that just applied to me. But seriously: how much do you know about the people you’re reaching out to? With a bit of research you can easily figure this one out.
13. Write a series of posts. Connect them to form a tutorial or offer a practical solution to a popular problem. That’s where blogs are going in 2010 – solve-me-statements. Don’t miss out; think of all the things you get asked for on a regular basis and teach people how to overcome their deficiencies in five easy-to-understand articles.
14. Talking articles… When you write some pillar content for your site – that is, one of the posts on your site that defines you, and really sets out your stall as an expert – you might consider sharing it on an article directory. It’s one way of getting your word out to a wider audience, and those worth their salt let you add a signature to drive people back to your site. Check out Article Fever and Buzzle to get started.
15. Start an enewsletter. Get an account with aweber or Mail Chimp or Campaign Monitor. Surmise everything you just learned and bam it out to your readers, who will by now be multiple in number and hanging off your every word.

With the bonus five just mentioned, you know now more than ever that I love you.

Addendum

I asked an associate to define a bulletproof brand to me. Evidently in a whisky-fugged environment he replied thus:

NOTHING is bulletproof. It’s merely bullet-resistant.

And you gotta worry about who is selling you the stuff too… Had a friend about 15 years ago who was buying a boat. He was concerned about piracy (it was a bit on the “large” side…). The manufacturer assured him that the bridge and control area was completely bulletproof. Being from Missouri, he required them to send him a section of the wall material.

Which we took to a shooting range.

We figured we’d start the testing easy. Very easy. A .38 Special target load (very mild) zipped right through it. Okay… So we tried a .22… Ditto.

He didn’t buy the Hole In The Water.

When I was working for Monsanto, I became familiar with the stuff that is used to make “bulletproof” glass. Basically you layer tempered glass, plexiglass, and a flexible “interlayer” material in a hot vacuum oven. You want something that’ll stop a rifle bullet? You’re gonna need some major springs under your truck, and (a) it will only stop a couple; and (b) you won’t be able to see out of it after the first one.

Steel plate? Yeah, it’ll work, but then someone will show up with a bigger rifle. Anybody have any idea how much 1″ thick plate weighs per square foot?

Damn, but I’m a font of useless trivia… You know all those 1970s and 1980s TV shows that had the heroes ducking behind garbage cans as the bullets sparked (they don’t…) off? Bad TV, worse physics.

Bulletproofing a brand? Not too darn likely. Best you can hope for is damage control, but you can try to avoid situations by offering excellent quality and service. Reputation, reputation, reputation… You can try armor plate, but then you’re not going to be able to move.

Thackeray Towers has been hit by a virus. It's a virus that's rampaging through this fair old planet we all congregate upon.

This virus has a purpose: to bamboozle, befuddle and bemuse. Its name is life.

In the spirit of compendiumising things so they make sense or are just plain fun, here's 10 of the things that should, but aren't…

1. Customer 'service'. There are oodles of books connected to the dark art of customer service. Forget Ant and Dec and Eric Morecambe – some of the funniest stories revolve around business' ineptitude towards satisfying its paymasters: you and me. Take yesterday…

Wandered into the Wetherspoons opposite St John's Market in Liverpool. Big sign on the bar: Due to the weather you can't have the Ruddles which is the headline beer in our January Sale.

This is all well and good. They only get two deliveries a week and I know how hard it is to drive when there's snow on the ground. Awww, poor trucks… Wibble.

And I know they've been challenged getting stock though. Because the Southport branch had also run out. But here's the thing:

The Southport branch offered an alternative product at the same price as way of creating customer delight. The Liverpool branch did not.

I was similarly miffed to discover that the steak pudding offer – at Southport for £2.50 – was double the price here. And before we get the whole 'it's simply pricier in the city' shenanigans, the ham and eggs, available at Lloyds No 1 on Queens in Liverpool for £1.99, was a quid more here.

I'm sorry, but you either get your proposition sorted or you're simply fools. Beer monkeys, you join o2 and Vodafone in my Terrible Traders Hall of Shame.

2. A global telecoms company. Wifi is all well and good but it's hardly 'everywhere, connected' when the moment you cross an expanse of water, you're at the mercy of another megalomaniac telecoms company intent on bleeding you of $$$ each time you send an email. And before you say Starbucks: I don't drink coffee, and nor do I choose to carry out a Skype-based magazine interview in a shop.

Let's put it this way: you have Coca Cola; you have Holiday Inn. You have a lot of telephone wires; a lot of air. Let's connect and make us all happy!

3. Client/supplier harmony. If you set deadlines, we meet them. All of us. Because someday not so far from now you'll whine about missing a launch date. And the only fall guy will be the one writing the invoice.

This theory applies equally to manager/subservient as outsourcing. As if you didn't know.

4. SEO. When oh when oh when will the people get it? This shonky excuse for a 'business' is Ponzi/butterfly marketing rolled into one. SEO according to the experts is a sophisticated cauldron of magic, stirred with a starched cat's tail in the loftiest tower of Atlantis. Bullshit. You create great content, people reconise this, they tell other people. Isn't that, like, the foundations of everything marketing? Isn't that common sense?

So many people fall for this. Spend your money on giving better customer service. That's where the real money is. Clearly this is my most impassioned hobby horse du jour.

5. Predictive text. If Google Voice can automate transcription, understanding the subtle variants of a million and one variants, then the snazzy 'we know what you're going to type next' feature on my HTC Magic should discern between SEO and Seoul. Equally on older phones, with three letters mapped each numerical key, when you're in a rush to share holiday plans to your mother I would prefer you don't change Dublin to Fuckin. Please.

6. Podcasts. They just aren't, and it hassles the hell out of me. I know why, and I've been pushing the buttons of the good and the great to get it sorted but it's SO SLOW. Sure you can reach the folks who take their iTunes seriously but most people want an easier option. What we need is some sort of high street outlet that helps people understand tech better. In there you'd be able to ask questions about why such and such doesn't work. An extension of Leo Laporte's The Tech Guy, if you will, but with face-to-face know-how-sharing. I'm working on ideas to make this pay.

They would be called Easy PC, doubtless breaking every trademark convention in the book. And because Apple isn't welcome here.

7. Immortal mums and dads. You can't arrest the onset of time, or nasty bugs, but I think there should be a gentleman's agreement with the Almighty that mums and dads be given carte blanche to live forever, if they want to. Shrinking each year like  Creme Eggs (no – it's not an optical illusion brought on by my hands getting bigger) is not the way forward for the great people who created the most awesome generation on earth.

8. Churches. If I was social media officer for God, I'd tell him to start being a bit more contemporary. Take the streets. I'd say start listening to your flock. It ain't gonna get easier before it gets harder. Reach the community with different messages. Noone believes in prayer any more; it's all about self-improvement through motivation, see. But you can get to them by saying God is in all of you – and you are, in fact, God. They'll love that shit.

Things are picking up: I watched a webservice the other day. It was dreadful but hey, that's church.

9. Cheap trains. Why does it cost me £40 to go from Liverpool to Leicester by train, but only £9 to fly to Belfast? That's like charging a premium to go to Hell. Long-distance train service providers have had it way too easy for too long. And don't even get me started on Merseyrail. It's virtually £4 to go anywhere these days. 4 QUID! How can you justify that when I can go from Delhi to Trivandrum – and they lob a bed in – for £8! Don't give me that 'less risk of dysentry' nonsense. I'm all over this one.

10. Business support. If I was mayor – and none of this foursquare rubbish, please – I'd make it mandatory for anyone with an IQ higher than 46 (that should filter out 80% of the country) to serve on a creative committee. This would be the first port of call for anyone with a business idea. The committee would spawn sub-committees covering the many areas of industry. The fledgling entrepreneur would be tagged with a mentor, to get them through those early months when support is critical. With experience said businessperson would join a group of other highly-motivated bzns0wners to essentially support each other as if they were on a mutual 'board' of advisors.

What actually happens is you go to Business Link, someone promises to phone you back in a week, forgets, is prompted to follow up the enquiry approximately one year after your death notice and fobs you off on to a company who earns mountains of Euro cash to say you're great and then vanishes into thin air. Allegedly.

Posted via email from 10 for 10

Looking for news that interests you is best compared to playing pool with a loose turd.

If there's one thing I realised in 2009 becoming a freelancer for the first time, it's that demands for News Now are greater than ever before.

I feel it. And so do you. It's not good enough to have yesterday's events delivered on sheets of paper, despite the best efforts of The Sun to compare its tree-destroying work to an iPhone.

Most of the time it's too laborious to even visit your favourite list of websites.

Finding the news that matters is like trying to sail the Atlantic on a boat made of feathers.

The semantic web (Web 3.0 if you're a ponce) will help change all this automatically. Through folksonomy and taxonomy (organising and tagging, for normal people). But we're not there yet.

So how do we revolutionise and streamline our information seeking behaviour in this time poor world of ours?

It's simple. We turn the wheel the other way and make the information come to us.

Here's your 10 for today:

10 ways to get it now:

Best for… Getting it.

1. RSS. People still don't get it. You probably do – but if you're only vaguely web-oriented (seriously, there are people who haven't heard of Facebook and they don't live in mental hospitals) then Really Simple Syndication is anything but. Thankfully it's easier than ever to subscribe to feeds from your favourite sites using that natty little orange symbol living in your address bar, or clicking the RSS link on sites that care. The curse here is information overload – like many geeks I have huge swathes of content flying into my Google Reader. But there are loads of ways to get what you want from what you've subscribed to. So long as you have the power to search (dead easy), organise (use folders) and trash (if you come back to 1000s of news items, can them and start afresh – once you've searched keywords that are most important to you to glean the few bits that matter right now) you can handle your RSS. Promise!

I'm not going to unduly confuse matters but the guy who 'created' – at least in part – RSS, Dave Winer, has come up with the goods for the next-gen RSS called River2. Don't worry yourself over this right now; in a nutshell it's a quicker way of having your stuff dished up. RSS will suffice until River2 is more widely acknowledged by the big boys.

If you hate Google because you're insecure about the safety of your personal information, and probably freak out when the concierge calls you by your first name after you've stayed at the same Travelodge nine times in the same month, then you can always point all your RSS feeds to a cool widget-style website called Netvibes instead.

RSS is the delivery mechanism. I'm gonna focus down below on the best ways to facilitate RSS…

Best for… Finding it.

2. Google News Custom Section. Newspapers on steroids – tailored to you, and in your face only when what you want is in the pipe. There's much more about this sacred
bit of kit here but in a nutshell what you're getting is the chance to choose all the keywords and phrases that matter to you in your daily life and build up an RSS feed that only features this stuff. It's like a newspaper built of pixels with your name in the masthead!

Best for… Bringing it all together.

3. Yahoo Pipes. If number 2 is web news on steroids, this is LSD. At it's easiest, it's an aggregator: it allows you to bring lots of RSS feeds together to be delivered from one single source. You can create a fix of every news story imaginable and have it shoehorned into a feed type of your choice (for RSS, while the popularest, isn't the only feed style available). Yahoo Pipes is so incredibly clever. But it also acts as a filter – you can screen feeds by keyword/location, for example, so if you have a news source feed that doesn't quite hit the spot for you, it can be refined by 'Pipes to give only what you want. Almost worth creating a Yahoo account for. Almost, as in 'you have to'.

Best for… Spying.

4. Gist. This is where I deviate from my customary tradition of recommending stuff I 'get'. So many people have yayed Gist I feel compelled to share it with you. Gist asks for your contacts stored across Twitter, Outlook, Facebook, LinkedIn etc and brings all the news together about them. So next time you talk you have everything you need to know at your fingertips. Outstanding in execution, they say. I installed the Gist plugin in MS Outlook and it doesn't seem to do anything. But I haven't toyed and the groundswell of public opinion suggests you should get it. Now. And Q – drop your poison-tipped umbrella in the uridium-lined locker on your way out.

Best for… Getting answers.

5. Hunch. Can't decide whether to dump him? Looking for a present for your friend with no legs? Hunch is here to help! Curates crowdsourcing tech to give you the ultimate answers to many of life's burning questions. Go through a simple process of multiple choice questions and find the answer that could quite literally change your life. Finally, question curation comes of age. After a bumpy start, Hunch is what it should be – a cure for indecision. Sadly, I couldn't find out whether Gloria Estefan walks around her house with no knickers on, but trainers aren't a good gift for Hopalong…

Best for… Showing off.

6. Google Ajax Feed. How to get your site visitors to read about your weird fetish for cow bells? It's easy! Google Ajax Feed presents your RSS feeds du jour in a stylish, disappeary tickertape-type panel of loveliness. I discovered this yesterday but soon as I get the chance to implement it on davethackeray.com I'll bang it in. I was looking to add a timeshare RSS feed for a client but all it spewed out was talk of Cialis so it needs a little tweaking, but if you want to run a feed on Paris Hilton's norks it should crank out little distractions.

Best for… Getting down with the kids.

7. Tweetdeck (or Seesmic). Manage your social media in one place. These web 'clients' (they run as programs rather than in your web browser) let you handle all your Twitter, Facebook (and in Tweetdeck's case, LinkedIn) status updates in a super-slick way. Run searches on ke
yw

ords, hashtags and phrases popping up in Twitter, group your favourite Tweeps, auto-shorten URLs and drop pictures into your feeds. Both these babies run on Adobe Air framework which in English means they're damn quick. Having said that, if you want a website that does a similar (but not as good a) job you could always have a play with Hootsuite. Or Ping.fm if you want to simply update all your social media sites in one breath. But that's not 'get it' as much as 'give it'. Focus, DT.

Best for… Old school nu-news.

8. bbc.co.uk. If you still love the traditional website experience (am I really saying 'traditional' in this context? Outstanding! My god, I've just turned 156 years old in 5 years) then this is a better way to grab your brain biscuits than the average web window. You can personalise and tailor your BBC homepage by dragging and dropping the different sections where you want them. Newsvine is another great example of how this cute technology promises to revolutionise the internet experience. Of course you can do similar things using iGoogle but again, be wary since there's probably someone in a black Google bomber jacket in your kitchen inspecting your freezer contents as you're reading this.

Best for… Swimming through the news without drowning.

9. CNET River. I love blending stuff. I especially love Will It Blend? because it's the perfect example of a viral marketing campaign by a blender-making company. Kinda niche, huh? But the only place an iPhone really belongs is in the gnashing blades of a Blendtec appliance. My third-favourite example of blending (second is cocktail-making using as much Tequila as is humanly possible to consume) is the CNET River that mashes up the latest blogs, photo galleries, videos, and tweets from the company's editors to give you a holistic view of the news issues of the day. One place – lots of opinion.

Best for… Stupid stuff and pop culture.

10. Digg.com. Maybe I've a homoerotic thing for its founder Kevin Rose. I've been addicted to the vlog Diggnation since Jamaica 2007. I don't feel the same way about Alex Albrecht; I think it's the hair that's a turn-off. And his squeaky drawl. Digg invites users to submit content that others vote on. All categories are covered here and if you want to find the best of the web – and mankind – you can just scour the most-commented news.

Posted via email from 10 for 10