There are some places on the web where you can check the PageRank of your site, and their results seem to tally with common sense. Whatever shadowy source they are using, both PRchecker.info and Page-Rank-Lookup.com concur that www.computing.co.uk scores 7/10 and that sister site vnunet.com scores 6/10. Our much less important domains achieve suitably lower figures. A holding page at www.businesscomputerworld.co.uk scores a lowly 2/10, for example.

But these results make me question whether the bald PageRank score is as important as the SEO people would have us believe. I have accurate traffic figures for all our domains and www.vnunet.com gets quite a bit more views than www.computing.co.uk, and indeed gets more visitors from Google search referrals. So there is more to traffic generation than meets the PageRank-obsessed eye.

It's also peculiar that defunct sites seem to hang on to their PageRank scores for a long time after they've expired. We ceased publishing Network IT Week and Network News years ago, for example, yet both of their home page URLs continue to notch up scores of 7/10 - better scores than the highly active and regularly updated vnunet.com.

It's all very odd. Spooky, even.

Historically, editors may have ruled on this stuff but they have rarely presided over it. That is typically the job of the chief sub editor, managing editor or production editor. To a sub worth his salt, consistency is an attainable goal. Know the rules of house style, apply them diligently, and you can reflect on a job well done.

But I wonder if this phase is coming to a close. For example, recently I was asked if a lengthy expository document ought to be called a white paper, white-paper or whitepaper. In years gone by I might have considered prevalence, precedence and reader confusion. Which alternative is most often used out in the world? Will one usage be clearer than another? Where is the term on the much-travelled road from two words to portmanteau? Today, by contrast, I'm just as likely to ask, what are people searching for?

Indeed, there's now a certain attraction in literary inconsistency, from a search-engine-optimisation point of view. SEO techniques depend on matching your means of expression to the method of deduction used by your target audience. In other words, you should use the same words your desired readers will choose when they stick a phrase in Google. But if your audience hasn't settled on consistent terminology, you might be wise to spread your bets.

So there may well be an SEO benefit in ensuring that our site lists white papers under white-papers, white papers and whitepapers.

Chaos beckons.

I think this system is weak because (a) it's entirely numerical, greatly reducing its combinatorial complexity and (b) two of the fields are likely to be even further constrained to dates within the last 80-odd years.

If a thief were able to swipe your HSBC internet banking number and social-engineer your date of birth out of you, I don't think the remaining memorable number would last long against a determined assault. I don't know how many failed log-on attempts the front-end will allow: I'm reluctant to experiment with my own account and don't want to lock out anyone else.

Anyway, as with most security systems there is often an open window to try before breaking out the lock-picks. As I've been learning...

The HSBC is currently paying a lamentable 1.8% AER on its standard Cash ISA accounts, the rate having fallen recently in line with base rates. When it first dropped I asked if it might be possible to convert my ISA into one of the same bank's new e-ISAs, which currently pay 3.25% AER.

The answer can be summarised down to a short word that begins with the letter N. I was surprised, as I had thought that low rates on old accounts were there to snare the complacent, not to punish the loyal. Clearly the HSBC feels no need to keep my business, so I set about finding a better rate elsewhere.

I chose Abbey's Direct ISA, which doesn't have the absolute best rate but at least is a bank with which I have another account, making dealing with it somewhat easier. I filled out the necessary forms online, then downloaded them and filled them out again in pen when Abbey sent the wrong paperwork in the post, sent them off by Royal Mail and waited for the bulk of my worldly wealth to worm its way from HSBC to Abbey.

So far, two surprising things have happened.

Firstly, my HSBC ISA has disappeared. When I log on to my HSBC home page, the account is simply no longer there - no messages in my inbox or explanation on the page, it's just gone. This feels odd because the HSBC will often contact me by phone to check that it really is me paying for dinner or a pair of jeans with my credit card, but evidently it is happy to make changes to my largest savings account without a call, or indeed any credentials except the paperwork that's arrived via Abbey. I'm not sure I like this. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that someone might find the details needed to fill out a fraudulent transfer application and it must surely be worth the cost of a call to check.

Secondly, my new Abbey ISA has been created - but with a balance of £0.00.

At the start of the process, Abbey warned me that the transfer of funds can take up to 30 days, so I'm not panicking yet. But overall, my confidence in our financial service providers, low as it was to begin with, is currently plumbing a new and deeper depth.

It's frighteningly easy for an identity thief to get a digital copy of your signature, too. Yesterday I sent a letter by recorded delivery, and the Royal Mail's online tracking service handily provided me with the digitally captured signature of the recipient, ready for me to download, as proof of delivery. So I can now anonymously and untraceably capture the signature of a targeted individual I've never met, simply by sending them a recorded-delivery letter (at a cost of £1.08). ID thieves will be pleased.

As I've written before, when asked for personal information there is often no need to provide the real thing. In future I think I will write my name in block capitals when signing for post.

This evening was supposed to be the semi-final of Strictly, with three couples whittled down to the final two, ready for next week's finale. But at the end of tonight's results show, it was announced in confusing fashion that all three couples would go through, with phone votes carried through to the final.

No explanation was given on air and pundits clutching for an explanation have leaped on John Sergeant's early exit from the contest leaving numbers short. But while numbers were clearly the problem, the number of warm bodies was not it.

Strictly's voting works on a 50:50 basis - the on-set judges' votes count for the same amount as the viewing public's calls. With three couples dancing, this would mean a maximum of 6 points for topping both votes, with 3 coming from the public and 3 from the judges. The worst possible outcome would have been 2 points - one for coming bottom in the studio and one for coming last on the phones.

The spanner in the works was that on the night the two female contestants, Rachel and Lisa, tied in first place, earning 3 points each, leaving Tom in third on just a single point.

At that juncture, the show's producers ought to have jotted down some numbers on a pad and worked out that they should not have opened the phone vote for Tom. His maximum possible score, even if he won the public vote, would be 4. The two girls, meanwhile, could end on a score of 4, 5 or 6, but neither could score lower than 4.

In other words, while one of the girls could have avoided the dance-off, Tom could not, so his fate would have been decided by the studio judges. There was no point whatsoever in voting for him by phone this evening.

Fortunately for the BBC, someone must have worked out the numbers before the final cut. Sending all three couples through to the final was clearly deemed to be a preferable outcome to refunding the cost of all the calls received in futile votes for Tom. It was no doubt also seen as preferable to raising the ire of Ofcom again after last year's voting scandals.

Obviously you want the recovery process to be at least as secure as the normal password validation process. Recovery is, after all, effectively a back door and it ought to be at least as sturdy as the front entrance.

In general a security system relies on one or more so-called "factors" relating to the user - something that they know, something that they possess, or some biometric or other. To be really secure you need a two- or even three-factor system. But on the whole, on the web, for most purposes, validation typically boils down to a single-factor system based solely on what you know or can remember. It would be impractical, expensive and unwelcome if every web site you signed up for sent you a SecurID password generating keyfob, say.

So you hopefully know your password and username. If you don't know those, you should know your email address. And you ought to be able to consistently answer personal questions when challenged.

To my mind, the best web-site password recovery systems are those that let the user set both the challenge and the response to more than one personal question, perhaps with a few prompts for those left wondering what sort of query might suit. That way I don't have to provide information I might like to keep private, like my mother's maiden name, or my place and date of birth. Much better to let me decide if I want to ask myself what I paid for my first car, the exact colour of its rusting bodywork, what major item first malfunctioned, and what kind of immovable object brought it to an abrupt end.

But try as I might, I can't imagine what was going on in the heads of the people who set the validation requirements for Moveable Type, the blogging system as deployed by my employer.

For your everyday login it requires a username and password. So far, so normal. And if you forget the password, why there's the normal, helpful link saying, "Forgot your password?"

Clicking that helpful-seeming link is an education in security by obscurity, however. It takes you to a page where you are again asked for your username, plus your "Password recovery word/phrase".

So in other words, if you forget the password you normally use, you can recover it by remembering a password you never use. And if you forget your username you're out of luck.

I deduce that this system must have been dreamed up by a helpdesk administrator worried about the security of his or her job.

I've learned more about site coding in this past week than in the last decade.

The page provides a single place to sign up for the wide variety of email newsletters you can get from the Business Technology Group at Incisive Media. I'm the editor-in-chief of this group.

It may be shiny, but is it any good? The 7730's side-mounted click wheel is gone, replaced with a "pearl" trackball, that has an action that makes me shiver in the manner of nails on blackboards. Alt-Return no longer locks the keypad. I no longer have a desktop cradle. Worse, the battery life is not as good, meaning a stone-dead BlackBerry on Monday morning where the old faithful 7730 had enough juice left to flick through a few emails on the Tube.

The 8320 is smaller and lighter, with a better screen, but the keypad is less good for typing. Bearing in mind it lives in my bag not my pocket and I also carry a phone, this newer BlackBerry is not much of an improvement. I think it's more likely to get nicked, too.

A case of two steps forward, three steps back.

On a related topic, in today's IT Week, Daniel Robinson laments the passing of Windows XP, now that Microsoft has withdrawn the operating system from the new-PC channel. "It is difficult to think of a single area where Vista is better than XP," Dan writes.

That may be fair comment but I'm still not 100 per cent sure I agree with Dan's prognosis. I recently shelled out some of my own meagre funds for a new laptop, and decided to buy with Vista preinstalled, rather than going for one of the many XP offerings still in stock.

This was not because I thought Vista was particularly great, it's just that I've conservatively picked the wrong OS twice before. I specified Windows 98 when a still wet Windows 2000 was generally considered power-hungry and pointless. And then I plumped for Windows 2000 on my next laptop when the gawky Windows XP was said by those in the know to have nothing to offer a business user. Both times I ended up regretting my decision as the newer platform became more established, proved more capable, and became more likely to work with new peripherals.

So twice bitten, thrice shy, as they don't say. This time I went for Vista.

I had a budget of £500 (not enough for a MacBook) and ended up mired in indecision, unable to decide among the incredible variety of notebooks on offer at this price point. In the end I plumped for a Samsung R20 Plus, although had I spent ten minutes' more or less time pondering I could easily have bought an Acer, HP, Sony, Dell or Toshiba for the same money.

What the R20 offers is a reasonable compromise between weight, size, and apparent sturdiness, a 14.1-inch 1280x800 screen, a keyboard with nice tactile feel for this budget, a 1.8GHz Intel Core 2 Duo processor, 2GB of RAM - and Vista Home Premium.

The hardware offers enough horsepower to run Vista well, complete with fancy graphical transparency courtesy of the ATI Radeon 1250M graphics subsystem, which is the weakest part of the whole box according to Vista's built-in slothometer.

As Daniel says, there's not much to write home about in terms of usability improvements. I like the miniature, real-time screen-shot that hovers into view when you mouseover items in the Windows bar at the bottom of the screen and, erm, that's about it.

I haven't had any problems with peripherals, and I also haven't experienced any issues with audio capture, processing and playback, both areas that have caused endless problems for early adopters like our own Tim Anderson.

Vista runs quickly enough, boots up rapidly compared to my XP work machine, awakens from hibernation in the blink of an eye, and hasn't crashed yet. So far the only annoyance I've spotted is that when my BT Broadband connection drops (as it tends to whenever the wind changes) the R20 sometimes can't find the internet after the ADSL router comes back online. This happens about one drop in 50, and can be cured with a reboot.

No doubt the Samsung's capable hardware would make XP absolutely fly, but it won't get the chance. It's stuck with Vista.

I wonder if I will be happy with my decision in a year's time - or will I turn out to have made three bad OS choices on the trot?

It's time for me to buy a new laptop, the old one having gone well past the point of pension.

There was a time when I would simply have bought the lightest Toshiba I could afford, but things have become so much more confusing since I last pried open my wallet, dodged the moths, and bought a Portégé.

As my colleague Daniel Robinson points out in his latest video review, the lightweight end of the notebook market is currently undergoing a schism. While some ultraportables I'd like to own are the wrong side of two grand, you can now also find low-spec subnotebooks with very low prices. These can even be had under a kilo and under £350, in the shape of the latest Asus Eee PC 900.

Interest in Asus's wee beastie is acute - at our recent Channel Expo show, quite a few of the attending resellers were huddled in the Asus stand and keen to see the Eee in action with its new and bigger screen. It's not often that an 8.9-inch screen is considered bigger, such was the pixie-sized nature of the older 7-inch Eee PC 701.

Despite its low RRP, there is still an attractive margin to be made on the 900 model. Asus has clearly worked miracles in its own supply chain to keep the wholesale price so low.

Lovely as the Eee PC is, I found the keyboard too small for my not-very-fat fingers. I couldn't touch-type reliably, which rules it out, sadly.

I got on better with HP's 2133 Mini-Note, which boasts a slightly larger keyboard. This is about the smallest keyboard on which I can comfortably type without errors, although it would no doubt be bad for the wrists. In the office I use a split ergonomic keyboard, but the Mini-Note would be OK for short bursts.

But while my wrists might get by, I'm not sure my eyes would. The Mini-Note's 1280x768 screen is crisp and colourful, but each pixel seems about the size of an ant's toenail. System fonts show up in hair-fine lines. It's just about useable for my ageing eyes, but I would prefer something with the same physical screen size and a lower pixel count - the 1024x600 screen on the Asus, in fact, would be ideal.

I can't hang around waiting for someone to marry the Mini-Note keyboard with the Eee PC's screen, so I guess I will have to buy something completely different.

Having said that, I've just sent back to Acer a 17-inch, desktop replacement behemoth that I've enjoyed using on long-term test. I loved the screen and keyboard on that. Now, if only someone could offer a 17-inch screen with a lightweight chassis that doesn't cost an arm and a leg...

I'm now the last person on the launch team still involved in the publication - then as software editor, now as editor in chief of a group comprising IT Week, CRN, BusinessGreen.com and Computing.

But while my role has changed out of all recognition, the spirit of IT Week is still the same. In 1998 we set out to create a business weekly that would be really worth reading, that would provide no-nonsense information for senior IT professionals - and that's what IT Week still provides. When we surveyed a representative sample IT Week's audience recently, 86 percent rated the print weekly as good or excellent, with only 13 percent ranking it average and only two percent giving it the thumbs down. With almost a quarter of readers choosing "excellent", we are happy to know that we are still providing a worthwhile service.

Looking back, I actually remember issue two rather better than issue number one. The first issue had a long lead-up, but number two was the first we actually wrote in a week (with hangovers from the launch party, too), so it was of course a lot more intense.

For issue two I wrote a news story about software giant Oracle that then-news-editor Martin Veitch put on the cover, about Oracle's questionable handling of the impending Millennium Bug problem.

Oracle didn't like it, not a bit of it, and Oracle's PR sent me to Coventry as result. For what must have been a year afterwards, calls for comment went unanswered and my name fell off the invite list for press conferences and events.

This cold-shoulder treatment made my job as software editor a bit tricky in those early months, but as IT Week's reputation grew it probably did Oracle more of a disservice than it did me. That kind of overreaction is, thankfully, a lot rarer among spin doctors these days. Blogging, which was of course unheard of a decade ago, has changed the perception of criticism quite a bit. Most companies have become both thicker skinned and more nimble and professional about addressing their own failings.

Talking of which, I'd be very happy to hear your thoughts on IT Week - good and bad. Tell me what we're doing right and what we're doing wrong, and we'll do our best to take appropriate action.

My pal thought web 3.0 would be a kind of merging of web and TV, whereby sites can be delivered entirely through the medium of moving images and sound. I volunteered that this, while by no means out of the question, would by a nightmare. I already despise web-sites that are overly reliant on Macromedia Flash, so I for one would not welcome further migration in this direction.

But then I am middle-aged. Perhaps the young things think Flash-based sites are just great.

My own feeling is that web 2.0 will be about filtering. It will be about saying, “I like this content, show me more like this,” and “I don’t like this content, don’t show me anything like it again.”

This filtered fussiness ought to be as granular as you like. Read a comment by an idiot? Click to filter out the bozo in future. Don’t like a particular journalist at The Guardian? Click to filter the hack out. And on the flipside, if you love the witty, incisive comments by BlabberMouth23 you should be able to click to bring them to the top, or be notified when the next pearl of wisdom is plonked on the site. Love columns by Avery Wiseman at the Grauniad? Click to have his latest thoughts flagged up large on the home page.

Of course a true web 3.0 experience would involve visiting very few actual home pages - you might see them when you first stumble across a new site. Thereafter, you’ll want to plug a feed into your reader, which will filter all of the stories, pictures, posts, videos, comments and claptrap from your feeds into categories with sorted duplicates and related items, just as Google News currently does in a much less personalised fashion.

“You’ll be able to do all of that with the semantic web,” my pal said, waving a dismissive hand.

I’m not convinced by that. My understanding is that the semantic web relies on site providers to honestly describe their content. Any innovation involving the internet in which honesty is a required element is a non starter - it will be spammed into a black hole, alongside the otherwise excellent concept of the trackback.

What do you think the next phase of the web will involve?

Presumably the PPA rents its list of highly accurate editorial names, because I get quite a few letters from the less switched-on public relations firms addressed to Ms Lem as well. You can tell they are not the brightest bulbs in the PR box because they send letters, rather than dispatching emails or picking up the phone and finding out that I have a very deep voice for a Ms.

It’s not quite as silly as the period, in the mid-1990s, when I used to get mail addressed to “Mr Me Lem Bingley”. It took me a while to work out that a bunny must have called and asked, “Who should I send press releases to?” and I must have replied, “You can send them to me, Lem Bingley.”

Back in the present, I’m concerned that my honorary status as a female journalist may get me into some awkward spots. The other day I received a card inviting me to an event organised by a group called Women in the City. The event looked very interesting, and I was about to respond in the affirmative, when I suddenly stopped and thought. I’m not a woman, and I don’t work in the City. Maybe it’s not for me.

It’s interesting to take a well-publicised event and to think through where it might lead. The recent examples of data misplacement, starting with HMRC’s infamous lost discs in the post from last November, provide a great example.

As a wake up call for business in general, these data losses will fuel interest in some obvious things, and subsequent action is likely to boost the fortunes of particular IT vendors. On the up will be things like:

• Security software in general
• Encryption software in particular (good news for suppliers like SecurStar, GuardianEdge, Check Point and PGP)
• Access control and single-sign-on software (from stalwarts Sun, CA, RSA, IBM-Tivoli, plus specialists like Imprivata)
• Account and identity management tools (Quest Software, NetIQ/Attachmate)
• Systems management software (LanDesk, Tivoli, MS-SMS, Unicenter, etc)
• Database and data management software (Oracle, IBM DB2, Progress, MySQL/Sun, Postgres, Actuate, Brocade, etc)
• Hardware-based access security (Aladdin, SecurID)
• Security consulting (big consultants plus BT, Verizon, 7Safe, Insight, ComSec, etc)
• Security-as-a-service (BT Counterpane, VeriSign, Symantec)
• ISO 17799  certification

Thinking more laterally suggests a whole host of other likely springs of interest. The current furore may be good for Microsoft, if it hastens adoption of Windows Vista - because the Enterprise edition includes BitLocker encryption software as standard.

It surely increases the likelihood of a new regulations. A new breach disclosure law is likely - after all, ministers are now highly incentivised to demonstrate that government departments are not the only organisations capable of losing personal data on a grand scale.

Politicians are also likely to give more resources and more teeth to the Information Commissioner's Office, so as to be seen to be doing something to correct the problem. 

At the less likely end of the spectrum, there may be a resurgence in interest in full public key infrastructure (PKI) schemes, of the kind that last seemed necessary when Baltimore was worth billions rather than being bankrupt.

More likely is that there will be increased interest in server-based computing (benefiting Citrix, Microsoft/Softricity and the like); boosted fortunes for the makers of thin client and, I suspect, thin laptops such as HP’s recently introduced example.

A similar jerk of the knee will also lead buyers to rack-mounted blade PCs from the likes of IBM and HP, and related management software from ClearCube and VMWare.

Fear of data breaches will also stoke the already fierce interest in software as a service, and Saas-based CRM systems from NetSuite and Salesforce.com. In turn, this will encourage more firms to look at cloud-based services like Google Apps.

And finally I predict an increasing spirit of false confidence. Lots of firms will put in place technically superb systems to which any passing hacker will be able to gain access with a few employee names and a list of the 50 most common passwords.

Movie Maker is an "easy and fun" video editing application that ships as an embedded part of Microsoft’s recent Windows operating systems. It has a relatively poor reputation, so I should have steered well clear, but I kind of accidentally got sucked in to using it. And initially I started to feel that it wasn’t actually all that bad.

Anyway, the details of why I ended up using it are unimportant. Suffice to say that I now feel its poor reputation is deserved and I won’t be using it again. But, male ego being what it is, I didn’t know when to quit. Along the way I learned some lessons that I’d like to pass on to other unfortunate mugs like me, who are having problems with Windows Movie Maker:

1. If you’re tempted to use Windows Movie Maker, don’t.
2. If you’ve ignored step 1 and find you have a completed Movie Maker (.MSWMM) project file, you may surprise yourself and be quite pleased with the result. By which I mean it may look quite good in preview mode. However, the best bet is to give up now. Don’t be tempted to click “Save Movie File” on the File menu, to export a finished edit. It will only lead to heartache and disappointment.
3. If you’ve ignored step 2, you may find that the .WMV file created by Movie Maker exhibits a picture-size different from your source material. Movie Maker only exports in the frame sizes and bit-rates it deems suitable, so if they don’t suit you, then the best bet is to give up. You may also find that the audio on your file sucks. I mean sucks. Like you’re listening to the audio with a kazoo jammed in each ear. Give up now.
4. I’m assuming you’re pressing on. Download Microsoft’s Windows Media Encoder. Unlike Movie Maker, this is a decent program, albeit a relatively unfriendly one. Don’t be tempted to ignore its onerous system requirements: if your PC isn’t up to snuff then give up now. The software will run on a sub-spec PC but it will produce movies that look like Ray Harryhausen shot them in 1955.
5. Media Encoder will let you resize your WMV file and it will do a reasonable job of preserving visual clarity and audio fidelity. You will probably need to go back to Movie Maker and create a new WMV source file using the “High quality video (large)” setting. Then you can use Media Encoder to create a file at the exact frame size and bit rate that you wanted originally. You may be lucky enough to get a good result from this. However, if you’ve used any fragments of non-native audio in your Movie Maker file - MP3 music, say - then Movie Maker is still going to bite you. No matter what quality setting you choose, it will create a WMV file that sounds like a bee has flown into your ear. Media Encoder can’t fix this. The best course at this point is to give up.
6. If you’re still with me, you poor deluded fool, then you may have acceptable visuals with terrible sound. You’ll need to use something else to edit any sounds that you’ve added like background music. Go back to Movie Maker and make notes on the timing of your introduced sounds. Then delete them, and create a new, high-quality WMV without them. Check any remaining audio. If the native audio is still hopeless, you will need to give up. If it’s acceptable, then you can run the file through Encoder again to get the frame size and bit rate you want.
7. Take the audio fragments you wanted and, referring to your notes, use an audio editor - Audacity, say - to create a new file of the right length, with the right sounds in the right places to match your Movie Maker visuals. Take the resulting MP3 file and use Media Encoder to convert it to the Windows Media Audio (.WMA) format. Then locate Windows Media Stream Editor (it will have arrived when you installed Media Editor). This lets you combine different media streams into a single output file (confusingly called an Audience). Use it to splice your WMA audio overlay with the WMV visuals and audio.
8. You may now have a WMV file of acceptable quality. Enjoy it, but learn your lesson. Don’t go near Movie Maker again.

Update, 29 Jan 08:
A simpler alternative to steps 6-8 is to pass any MP3 files or other non-native audio through the Media Encoder to create .WMA files. These can then be readily dropped into Movie Maker's Audio/Music track and edited in-place as required. This will provide acceptable, but certainly not hi-fi, audio for your movie.

Employers’ group the CBI is full of praise, with the body’s director of human resources policy, Susan Anderson, saying, “This is very welcome investment which should lead to more specialist science teachers who can be inspirational, confident and enthusiastic about their subject. That is crucial if we are to raise young people's interest and attainment in science, technology, engineering and maths subjects and if the UK is to stay a leading world economy, able to compete with the emerging economic powerhouses of China and India.”

I’d be enthusiastic too, had I not been collared at the weekend by an apoplectic particle physicist. Rather than probing the inner workings of the universe, my academic friend is currently staring into a financial black hole. Tearing at his remaining hair he railed against the kind of blinkered central-government budgeting that advances funds to build a research centre one year and then denies the funds to run it the next. More than 10,000 scientists have signed petitions complaining about this year's Science and Technology Facilities Council (STFC) spending plans, and an £80m shortfall that will see lots of researchers looking for new posts. And with the funding crisis affecting the whole of the UK, a lot of good people will naturally be forced to look overseas.

So while I applaud moves to encourage our most intelligent young people to pursue a career in science and technology, it would be helpful if the money were made available to hang on to the brainboxes we already have.