GoDaddy is a horrible company run by horrible people selling horrible products. Media Temple made a big name for themselves in the late 2000s with modern design, strong branding with lots of parentheses, and heavy marketing in the Rails and design communities, but I’ve never been a customer of theirs — they always looked overpriced to me, and they’ve had a lot of growing pains.
By horrible people I hope he includes elephant murderers.
The term burner, when used in the context of a mobile phone, is typically a pre-paid phone but also one that cannot chew up data fast meaning it’s usually a crappy one. (I came across the term from listening to people talking about The Wire, me, being one of the few people who has never actually watched it.)
I saw more than a few people in Vietnam carrying two phones: a burner and a more up to date handset and couldn’t really figure out why until I was sitting in the Qantas office in Ho Chi Minh City. That’s a whole other story. As I watched someone working two handsets I figured out why: the burner was for making calls and possibly texting while the bigger, better handset was used to surf the web. Free WiFi is prevalent in the country, go figure, so it made sense to keep the base functionality cheap while surfing the data hungry sites and apps for free.
Life hack, anyone?
Don Pettit, writing on the behalf of a space zucchini:
“I am utilitarian, hearty vegetative matter that can thrive under harsh conditions. I am zucchini - and I am in space.”
Farming just got a whole lot more interesting.
To that end, it’s no wonder that content remains the largest cost center and challenge for marketers: As the technology has evolved, the frame’s stayed the same. Instead of focusing on the medium and unique needs of social, we, as an industry, saw a photo on a Facebook page and assumed it was a print ad and should be produced the same way.
These kids have built a way super-smart platform.
The only way to learn how to write and draw is by writing and drawing … to persist in the face of continual rejection requires a deep love of the work itself, and learning that lesson kept me from ever taking Calvin and Hobbes for granted when the strip took off years later.
There’s just something about Calvin and Hobbes.
The drive from Tucson, Arizona, to Las Vegas, Nevada, takes approximately eight hours when travelling in a vehicle whose top speed is forty-five miles per hour. In Desert Bus, an unreleased video game from 1995 conceived by the American illusionists and entertainers Penn Jillette and Teller, players must complete that journey in real time. Finishing a single leg of the trip requires considerable stamina and concentration in the face of arch boredom: the vehicle constantly lists to the right, so players cannot take their hands off the virtual wheel; swerving from the road will cause the bus’s engine to stall, forcing the player to be towed back to the beginning. The game cannot be paused.
In terms of playability, this is kind of genius.
“We examined the data and, at one point, Erik and I looked at each other and said we have to rethink what we’re trying to do with this book,” says McAfee. “We have seen some flourishing of innovation in many different industries and this is great for the economy,” he notes, “but there are some troubling trends.” The two MIT economists have nevertheless decided to publish their results as a book. The conclusion, though, is much different than originally anticipated – which is precisely why it has caused quite a stir among economists, politicians and technology experts. And that conclusion is: The digital revolution is destroying jobs faster than it is creating them.
And for all of this I still blunder my way through an exercise to write a function which returns a boolean in response to the question of whether sequence A is a sub-sequence of sequence B. I still draw a blank when asked what the magnitude of complexity is for the guests function I just wrote (damnit, of course calculating the permutations of a list is n-squared, but this is an interrogation of the random trivia I can manage to recall and I feel like a deer in the headlights). Any shred of confidence I had has been beaten out of me with every mistake, blunder, and rejection.
I started writing a program around seven weeks ago. As work got busy I began crawling into that “how am I going to get this finished” stage. I managed to get everything into a manageable position and found myself staring at the README document, possibly the hardest part of programming these days, especially when you’re coding socially.
I don’t really know where I’m going with this. Possibly nowhere. Plus my legs hurt. It’s just a little reminder to keep finishing the things I start.
And not to worry the five week break between posts.
My Burton backpack is 15 years old this year and I felt I needed to say something about it, as much to celebrate some amazing stitching as to acknowledge an inanimate object as a memory machine. It would be quite easy to get nostalgic, a bag full of memories, that sort of thing, but I think this pack deserves better than that.
From memory, I became owner of said backpack in 1997 or thereabouts. I bought it from a store called Fat City, situated in a town called Hakuba, in a prefecture called Nagano, in a country called Japan. The store was owned by a Japanese lady who was colloquially known, by those who worked for her, as “The Chook.” She also owned the restaurant I was hired to cook in, named Gravity Worx. Nagano was the stage for the 1998 Winter Olympics so as you can imagine we’re talking ski country. The pack was a day pack, used for hiking, and its sole purpose, besides perhaps to carry food and water, was to bear a shovel that, in case of an avalanche, would be used to dig up anyone that had been buried. But you try not to think about it in that way. And I only ever carried a shovel a handful of times.
The pack then, naturally, became my day to day, spending a summer in Tokyo where I pretty much lost my mind, and then back to the ski fields for another season, before heading back to Australia once my working holiday visa expired. From there it goes something like this: Sydney, Melbourne, Byron Bay, over 6000 kilometres in Chile, London, Paris, Geneva, Madrid, Seville, Cadiz, Honk Kong, Manilla, Sabang Beach, Ho Chi Minh, Phan Thiet, Fiji, and now sitting faithfully by my side on the way to Singapore. Not to mention countless trips to and from work.
I was really unsure as to where I was trying to get to with this if anywhere at all. It’s been in my head for a while, perhaps a premonition that something might be about to happen with good old Jake Burton’s handiwork. Let’s hope not. And I’m not going to put my pack out to pasture any time soon. Once, if, it ever falls apart so be it. And perhaps with it, those memories will be forever lost.