Do some “authors” have no shame?

An “author” with the initials SY contacted me on Facebook today asking to post a review for his book on Amazon.com and give it a 5-star rating. In return, he would do the same for me.

When I looked up his book, I noticed that it has 51 reviews, which makes me wonder how many of those reviews are legitimate. Were they posted by readers, or were they posted by people who – like me – were asked to post a review?

The 55% 5-star ratings and the 40% 4-star rating don’t carry much weight either. If SY asked me to give his book a 5-star rating, how many others did he ask to do the same thing?

And then I noticed something else … SY has other books, either written by him or co-authored with someone else. I looked up the reviewers for those books and guess what … the same names kept popping up again and again.

Several people who gave a 5-star review to one book also gave a 5-star review to his other books.

In a blog post that SY wrote, he encourages self-published authors to give away copies of their books to various organizations to generate sales. 

Judging by his sales figures his strategy isn’t exactly working. His books are rated between #6,233,900 to #3,489,600. Not exactly best-sellers.

Now wouldn't you think that a book with dozens of reviews would be rated higher in the best-selling list?

By sheer coincidence, I came across another Facebook member who was approached by SY. She said she reported him to Amazon for unethical behaviour and that I should do the same. If enough people make Amazon aware of his review deceit, something will be done about it.

So I did. I sent Amazon a message that SY approached me to post a 5-star review and much to my surprise they responded within the hour. Apparently they are aware of SY’s methods as several people have filed a complaint against him. They assured me that steps will be taken.

My point … if you feel something is wrong or something bothers you, report it. If you take steps and someone else takes steps, something will be done. But if you keep quiet and others stay quiet, then dishonest individuals such as SY will continue to exploit other for their own gain.

Please visit my website at:

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Are we allowed to discriminate

Yesterday I was presented with an official document. In addition to the usual questions (name, address, phone number, email address), I was asked to specify a few details. Was I any of the following:

An aboriginal person

A person of color

A francophone

A person with a disability

Male or female

Deaf

Blind

And I wondered, if discrimination is against the law, are they allowed to ask these questions?

If sex discrimination is against the law, what does it matter whether I’m male or female?

If racial discrimination is against the law are they allowed to ask if I’m aboriginal, a francophone, a person of color or just a plain Caucasian?

Is it a good thing or a bad thing to have a disability? Does having a disability gain you point over being in perfect health?

Does a blind aboriginal male stand a better chance at getting accepted than an aboriginal female with 20/20 vision?

Does a person of color have an advantage over a francophone or the other way around?

If all people are equal on God’s green earth, why are they asking all these questions? The way I see it, this is discrimination.

As for age discrimination, there those asking the questions have come up with a loophole to find out how old someone is.

Since they are not allowed to ask “How old are you?” or “In what year were you born?” they’ve come up with the question “In what year did you graduate high school?” 

Now unless someone graduated from continued education, the cat is pretty much out of the bag. 

We as individuals are not allowed to discriminate, but it seems that organizations are.

Friday is Cat Day - Sleeping Positions

I ADMIT, IT'S A LITTLE SNUG, BUT I CAN MAKE IT WORK.

A TOILETROLL IS A LITTLE CONTROVERSIAL, BUT IT'S BETTER THAN NOTHING.

THIS IS GOING TO GIVE ME A CRICK IN MY NECK.

THIS BOX ISN'T BIG ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US.

I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I'M COMFY.

Namaqualand's transformation

While living in South Africa, a neighbor recommended we should visit Namaqualand. Apparently it was just the right time. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but I was prepared to take her word for it. So we went.
The 1111 km (690 miles) was quite a long drive and we hoped it would be worth it. Imagine our surprise when we arrived at our destination and we found a brown colored, barren land. This, this is what we had come all the way for! 

Not that we were alone. There were hundreds of other people there, strolling around, emerging from tents, having breakfast on blankets.

We soon found out that some of the people were reporters and photographers, having camped out at this location for days. According to them, any moment now something amazing was about to happen.

“This happens but once a year,” one of the reporters told me. “One moment there’s nothing but barren landscape, the next a sea of flowers explodes before your eyes.”

Flowers? Where were these flowers going to come from? I saw nothing but soil and rocks.

"You just wait," he said, "just tight and you’ll witness something you won’t forget for the rest of your life." So we waited.

Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait long. During mid-afternoon, dark clouds gathered over Namaqualand and when the first drops of rains splashed on the ground, everyone got terribly excited. 

Within minutes, I could see why. Patches of color started to sprout from the barren soil and the more it rained the more flowers started to bloom. By the end of the day, there were flowers as far as the eye could see.

This video shows the event in a way that I could never explain. Not to worry, you don’t have to watch the whole 51 minutes of it (although you might want to). At the 45 second mark, you can see Namaqualand’s transformation. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Gx-aCsURq0

If you prefer photos, this reportage shows some beautiful images.

http://www.atlasofwonders.com/2013/02/namaqualand-flower-power.html

Kicked out of Capri

As much as I hate winter with its snow and sub-zero temperatures, I’m not a fan of summer either. I can handle the season up to 27 deg C (80.6 deg F), but anything more than that is just a little too much for me.

This is a relatively new condition. In my younger days, the heat didn’t bother me at all.

I remember a time when we traveled to Granada, Spain. One of the hottest regions of the country. It was not unusual for the temperature to reach over 40 deg C (104 deg F) but I wasn’t bothered at all.

While in Granada we visited the Alhambra and Generalife. It was hot as hell, but the heat didn’t have an effect on me. We walked around for hours, enjoying the scenery, taking pictures, and we didn’t care about the heat.

The following year we vacationed in Capri and walked all over the island, including Villa Borghese and its gardens. The sun was beaten down on us, we had little or no protection and no water. Were we bothered … not in the least.

Not only did we walk for miles in Capri, at one time we even ran. That is … I ran.

In one of the gardens of the island, where we enjoyed a delicious ice cream. The scenery was beautiful, trees and flowers everywhere and live size statues of angels and the twelve apostles dotted the grass.

Before leaving the garden, mom wanted a picture of St. Peter, she suggested that I pose with the saint.

In doing so I draped my right arm around the statue’s neck and with my left hand pretended to pull his beard.

My goodness had I made a mistake in doing that. The gardener came charging at me, pitchfork in hand, swearing at the top of his voice. He yelled in Italian, and even though my Italian vocabulary was limited, I understood that my actions had been disrespectful to the saint.

Seeing him waving that pitchfork I wasted no time. I took off as fast as the grass and my flip-flops would allow me. The gardener, even though he was well into his sixties, was in surprisingly good shape.

I can’t remember how long the spring lasted, but I outran him. When me folks caught up with me they told me they had to pay a considerable amount for them to keep the camera and to keep the police out of this matter.

They were also told to leave Capri as soon as possible. So we did, we visited the Blue Grotto and then we headed back to them mainland.

If you like my blog, please visit my website at

www.connymanero.weebly.com

Friday is Cat Day - Talking cats

It is generally accepted that dogs bark and cats meow. But if that is the case, my lot didn’t get the memo. I have five cats and not one of them knows how to utter a proper meow.

Chanel has plenty to say, but when she opens her mouth she sounds more like a frog than a cat. Chanel has no clue of course and happily babbles along.

Mickey is a very quiet cat, but if he does decide to start a conversation he sounds like a bird, a very tiny bird. There are also occasions that he seems to suffer from laryngitis … he opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

Charlotte doesn’t say much either. Days can go by without her saying anything at all. When she does “meow” she sounds like a sheep, a very tired sheep.

Gabriel has his ups and downs. There are days that he lets himself be heard, and then there are days that he sulks. I can tell when he’s in one of his moods. When he does “meow” he turns the occasion into a serenade. He sounds so pitiful it would melt a stone heart.

Holly has plenty to say, usually between 10:00 and 11:00 p.m. She talks to the walls, she talks to the doors, she talks to the fireplace … we are convinced she sees things we don’t. When Dieter goes to bed at 11:00 he shushes her with a stern “Holly, be quiet”, to which she promptly replies with a string of protests. Every so often she parks herself next to his bed and talks to the nightstand.

So no, our cats don’t meow. Perhaps we should adopt a sixth cat, one who knows a proper meow and who can show this lot who it’s done.

Look cool in shades

Shades do more than protect your eyes, do make you look cool.