GCA10
I've been at two memorial services in the past six months where Mary Oliver's poetry has brought consolation and closure to people who needed it. Her choice of words is deceptively simple. A public-school 10th grader can follow along.
Could she go deeper with a much richer vocabulary? Perhaps. Is she most effective -- and surprisingly subtle -- with the words she chooses? You bet. And what's true for Mary Oliver also is true for highly admired (and read!) historians, technical writers, etc. For me, at least, there's great power in simplicity.
If you're writing for yourself (and maybe a very small number of equally erudite readers) cut loose! Embrace "anfractuous density and heedless flamboyance." But if you're trying to change people's minds, or share knowledge widely, everything in this essay is defiantly at odds with what's necessary to get the rest of the world to pay attention.
Can't help but think that Meta's digital networking expertise is built atop a human-networking clusterf*ck
Product managers win their chops by launching something and winning applause for getting fast adoption in the first few months. Once the boss says "Wow," it's on to a bigger new chance. It's habit-forming to outrun your failures in a system where personal incentives reward ephemeral success.
Finance folks win their chops by identifying bits of the company that aren't pulling their (economic) weight. If you haven't delivered $$$ of efficiency savings, why are you even on the payroll? Pulling the plug on small/mid-sized products that have plateaued is the way you get recognition and promotions.
CEOs, of course, could change this. But they're the ultimate plate-spinners in a big company, trying to keep up the appearance that they've got everything in control and making sure that neither shareholders nor employees mutiny. As long as they've got a new sizzle story to sell, no one (except users) is there to grieve about what's dying. And users of a product that's less than 1% of revenue can be safely ignored.
Back issues (usually at least a few years old) are available via JSTOR for free in small amounts and through subscriptions for bulk users. I'm sure there's some reason to fight about the details, but from a distance it looks like a pretty good compromise.
Roosevelt was married twice, and his first wife, Alice Hathaway Lee, died in 1884, so it's not her. But his second wife, Edith Carow, died in 1948, at age 87. So unless Lorant interviewed her posthumously, via seance, it can't be her, either.
Our best hope of rescuing this anecdote is to assume that Lorant's research happened earlier (1940s?) while Edith Carow Roosevelt was still alive. But she would have been just three years old at the time of Lincoln's funeral, and while her family and the Roosevelt's family socialized together, even her quoted reminiscence is less than definitive about whether that's actually TR.
Possible? Sure. Probable? Maybe. 100% verified? No way.
From what's presented to us, this sounds like a cool legend
Yes, the caliber of reader reviews on Goodreads is all over the map. But it is huge, passionate forum for active readers of all stripes. Spend a little time with lists, filters, reading circles, etc. -- and you can semi-reliably get both reviews and recommendations that are well worth the time invested. Most major publishing houses know this, accept it, and have even come to appreciate it.
As a hardcover author in 2017, I found that my publisher's marketing/publicity team was very comfortable with Goodreads' prominence and felt that its review-by-review quirks balanced out over time in a way that ultimately was quite good for promoting wider readership of interesting books.
As you get bigger, serious numbers of people get annoyed at dealing with a company that keeps inviting us into the Roach Motel of doomed products and features. Big case in point was Google's spree, a few years back, in terms of launching big new services/features that soon afterward got shut down. Great training ground for ambitious PMs; miserable user experience.
Somewhere between the death of Google+ and the demise of Google Hangouts, even folks like me began thinking: Why should I engage with new Google stuff if it's likely to be blown up in a few years, leaving me with buried IP from whatever I tried to do?
It's certainly possible to mimic many aspects of a notable writer's published style. ("Bad Hemingway" contests have been a jokey delight for decades.) But on the sliding scale of ingenious-to-obnoxious uses for AI, this Grammarly/Superhuman idea feels uniquely misguided.
But the factors that help Singapore be an Asian or often global hub in so many respects are still running strong, no? Worrying about whether a couple dozen X/Twitter legends are hyping you today feels silly.
But I was wrong about bitcoin > gold. It's worked the other way around. There's also persistent chatter that the supposedly uncrackable Bitcoin private keys might someday be crackable with quantum computing. Preposterous? Maybe. Maybe not. There's a mind-blowing amount of compute coming into the world, and not all of it's going to be used to create goofy memes or robo-PowerPoints. Call me timid, but I cashed out with modest Bitcoin profits last year and am fine watching the show from the sidelines from here on.
There's still nothing heroic about that chapter of Gerstner's career. But if you're seeing public good in having tobacco companies fade from sight, there are bits of Gerstner's stewardship at RJR Nabisco that unwittingly worked out okay.
His answer: "I'm a better writer."
The Cambridge research cited in this study categorizes late-life changes in brain function as nothing but declining capability, all the way down. My guess is they are mostly right. But I'm intrigued by the notion that some of that elder erosion might lead to new clarity about how everything fits together.
Seize the moment, friend! What you can do NOW with that 10% slice will never exactly be on your possibilities map again.
So he's basically the absentee owner of a property that's more interesting to the women in his life than to him. Current management at the paper is probably eager to make sure that the paper doesn't embarrass (or "complexify") his bigger business priorities. Their desire to mollify may be excessive. I've seen such things happen inside large organizations.
Press (politely) for extra details via follow-up questions. Make it easy for the legitimate doers to share specifics of what they've done and learned, while the posers get vague in a hurry and change the subject.
Hire people who are going to do their best work ever, for you, after having partially but not fully mastered everything you want, via their previous jobs. It's easy to evaluate a resume. It's harder -- but not impossible -- to assess potential. Working inside a big tech company for six years, I saw that PM hires were done almost entirely on pedigree: find me another Stanford grad. These tended to produce a lot of fast exits as well as some comically bad and totally predictable fails.
Engineering hires were done on hunger, drive, scrappiness (and networks). They fared better.
Informal assessment here, re: how these versions of "hustle culture" have played out. First, people who can last a long time do make a lot of money. Second, the wipe-out rate is pronounced but not catastrophic. Yes, there's sometimes a price to pay in terms of bad marriages, early heart attacks, etc. but it's not so pervasive that everyone who chases all-out success comes up short. You can win at this game.
Third -- and this perhaps OPs best area for questioning: When you work 90-hour weeks, your judgment about picking the right projects goes to hell. You're the greyhound going round the track as fast as you can, chasing the rabbit that you'll never catch. Your rabbit-value assessment system doesn't exist. You just keep running toward whatever someone else points you toward. On Wall Street, a lot of marathon hours are spent trying to close deals that won't close. Or that turn out to have been identifiable mistakes/misguided obsessions.
I was chatting earlier this year with a former Big Law attorney who spent a frenzied year after Hurricane Katrina drafting blizzards of legal filings so that big insurers could dodge claims. Her work was valued enough that she (and her firm) got paid a lot and maybe even did landmark work. Nearly 20 years later, is that the career badge that you'll always feel good about?
Yahoo just lacked the imagination and nerve necessary to see how its own assets could lead to the next big thing.
Consider Flickr, which Yahoo bought for about $25 million in 2005. If you're a tech visionary, you look at this popular little photo-sharing site and say: "Wow, everyone's connectivity speeds are soaring, and we could morph this into a video site, too!" And then, maybe, you've invented YouTube.
Or, you look at the way Friendstr and Facebook are getting traction, and you say: "Wow, what if we built out easier commenting and a social-network feed with abundant sharing of popular photos among users' pals?" And then maybe you've invented Instagram.
But Yahoo's metrics-driven managers refused to stretch their brains in this direction. I've been told by two famous-name insiders at the time that Yahoo's approach to everything was to set short-term targets focused on existing metrics, with rigid focus on hitting quarterly targets. It was all about driving orderly growth of what was already there, rather than any desire to explore new and uncharted areas.
In essence, Yahoo had a Silicon Valley address but a Battle Creek, Mich., mindset. Purple logo aside, Yahoo owed a lot more to the way W.W. Kellogg had been running its cereal business for decades, as opposed to anything going on in the 650 area code.
Some Agriculture Department folks decided that their legal authority to quarantine soil samples brought into the U.S. applied to lunar soils, too. They insisted on building a three-week quarantine facility with slivers of lunar samples, exposed to "germ-free mice born by cesarean section." Only after the mice survived this ordeal was it safe to release the fuller batch of samples.
Another character insisted that the aluminum rock boxes be sealed, while on the moon, with gaskets of indium (soft, rare metal) which would deform to create a very tight seal. The geochemists on earth protested, in vain, that this procedure would ruin their hopes of doing any indium analysis of the samples themselves, shutting down an interesting line of research. No luck in changing the protocol. Turns out that the indium seals didn't work, and the rock boxes reached the earth-based quarantine facilities with normal air pressure anyway.
There's more silliness about trying to keep the lunar samples in a hard vacuum while designing rigidly mounted gloves that could be used to manipulate/slice/divide the samples without breaking the vacuum. Maybe we know today how to sustain flexible gloves in such an environment. We didn't, back then.
But it's worth browsing pictures of the abbey to get a sense of how challenging this would be. https://www.comece.eu/christian-artworks-benedictine-archabb... Most books reside in giant, wall-flush bookcases with no natural ventilation. Establishing decent airflow -- without accidentally ruining structural walls or turning the bookcases into perforated messes -- seems very hard.
To answer @Amerzarak's question, the abbey is in a rural setting without an immediate surrounding community of researchers or urban resources. So, yes, no air-conditioning. The floors are polished; the ticket-takers are friendly, and the guides have a handful of stories that they tell well. For aesthetics, it would be nice if they can preserve everything. But in terms of scholarly impact, this wouldn't be on my list of the world's 1,000 historic collections most worth preserving in their entirety.
Being 62 is the perfect age for such roles. Young enough to climb a flight of stairs; old enough to nod appropriately to her new peers' references from the 1980s. Executive search firms will be eager to guide her into as many board roles as she might want.
People will spend a lot more time (and money!) reinforcing their existing beliefs/prejudices than learning about something new.