New York Magazine is on fire with this issue (a good friend is in the OK Cupid story). I have been catching up on Here’s The Thing and it’s great (with a few caveats; please ask). He’s a personality whom I’ll miss.
“A few years ago, a photo made the rounds. It was taken from the back, its subject unaware. He was a fat guy wearing a jeans-jacket, and on the back he had stenciled the name of his heavy metal band. It was a sloppy and amateurish job. The photo earned a lot of mocking comments in my circle, including from me. Ha ha, look at the fat guy with the rock-and-roll pretensions. Look at him. Looooook.
And then someone said, “I think he’s awesome. He’s found something he loves, and he thinks it’s great enough to share with the world. This guy is a hero.”
And… Oh, my God. That’s right. That’s exactly right. Who was I to judge, much less judge publicly? Maybe his music was terrible, but so what? It wasn’t for me. It was for him, and his friends, and his fans. Nobody was seeking my opinion, because it would be ill-informed and emotional, because those are the only opinions I could possibly have.
I was just pumping poison into the atmosphere, to feel good about myself, for another hit of self-righteousness. I was what was wrong, because I vomited out disapproval — could only vomit out disapproval — without intent or willingness to even attempt to understand.”—Greg Knauss (via cleversimon)
There are new people in the office—and at least one of them seems to be confused about the etiquette for the office coffee machine. The coffee at the office is critical when you need it—but it’s not really supposed to be a luxury.1 Nobody expects perfection. But…
The reason nobody else will touch this is that it’s actually not universally agreed upon.
You’re assuming that you’re in an office full of people who like good coffee and care what it tastes like. The reality is that most people are in an office with shitty coffee drinkers. They don’t care (or even notice?) that the bottom half-inch of coffee has been burn-warming for 3 hours before they get to it, and they think you’re an asshole if you leave an empty pot at 11 AM.
The only right solution is to abolish the office coffee pot. Those things get grimy in no time at all. (I am the dead-eyed freak who makes a cup or carafe by hand at 3, almost daily.)
At 4:30, there are giant urns of what’s supposed to resemble coffee, but that’s when I switch to tea.
“If there’s one thing that’s surprised me these past few months, it’s how often people struggle to admit they’re unhappy with something unless that thing is objectively, undeniably terrible. Sometimes, things are perfectly fine and you still don’t want them. “
Hits so hard! For the entire year I researched my decision to quit my job (I was also a VERY early hire at a start-up which is now enjoying success), I felt like I owed it to … somebody … to have this horror story about why I left (maybe because it’s so scary that there just MUST be a bigger horror than “I cannot sustain this for the next 40 years” — That particular horror sounds really selfish and, god forbid, you know?). But ultimately leaving just boiled down to, I either get real with myself and call an audible or I stay because it just feels safe.
Reading tweets is like a car ride with someone who’s just slammed an 8 ball. We bounce between unrelated thoughts, ideas, conversations, suggestions, requests, etc. in a matter of seconds. There’s no time to give anything a moment’s contemplation.
This feels like more an issue with how the medium is used, rather than the medium. He even says later, “[t]his phenomenon isn’t unique to Twitter,” but doesn’t seem to accept that it’s the process that could be broken.
There’s always time to stop and reflect, if you really want to – you just have to make the time and space to do it, à la Habit Fields. Media like Twitter and Facebook lack the space to do that – something I think Instapaper does much better, if you actually reserve and care for that time and space.
I used to work for a very large survey company. They conduct phone surveys, mail surveys, in-person surveys, and they gather data automatically using various gadgets, apps, and plug-ins. They gather all the data they can from as many sources as they can.
As a semi-professional photographer who is constantly thinking about the value of his work, the impending changes to the Instagram terms of service, which apparently grant them the right to sell my images, don’t quite sit right. Obviously a service with overhead costs needs to make money to…
“I’ve always thought that one of the the great things about physics is that you can add more digits to any number and see what happens and nobody can stop you.”—Randall Munroe’s “What If?” gave me my laugh for the day.
“Children of the Stars will be an immersive concert going experience, where you the audience will be thrust directly into the action of the music. Every song will be its own live music video where you will literally interact with the characters and creatures of our own intergalactic odyssey.”—The lady and I saw this on Thursday, which I would describe as somewhere between a live performance of a concept album and Rocky Horror. I had other words for this, but it was actually kind of fun.
Right now, there’s more “news” than ever before, but it comes in dribs and drabs disguised as news-like updates fed through the same channels as your friends’ baby photos and fart jokes.
So we built Evening Edition, a summary of the day’s news, written by a real live journalist, with links to the best reporting in the world. We optimized it for your phone and iPad. It’s perfect for your commute home or when you’re kicking back on the couch. It’s breaking news for the slow web and we really hope you like.
I am not posting this to belittle anxiety disorders, or the use of service/companion animals to treat them, IN ANY WAY. Anxiety disorders are serious and if the use of miniature horses helps some patients, I think that’s great.
I AM posting this so that you can all bask in the glory of the phrase “emotional support pony,” and the knowledge that it is really a thing.