Narrow minds devoid of imagination. Intolerance, theories cut off from reality, empty terminology, usurped ideals, inflexible systems. Those are the things that really frighten me. What I absolutely fear and loathe.– Haruki Murakami (Kafka on the Shore)
All the new-technology-debate insight you need in one convenient chart:)
"Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. It is far better to take things as they come along with patience and equanimity."
- Carl Jung
A good story can make or break a presentation, article, or conversation. But why is that? When Buffer co-founder Leo Widrich started to market his product through stories instead of benefits and bullet points, sign-ups went through the roof. Here he shares the science of why storytelling is so uniquely powerful.
In 1748, the British politician and aristocrat John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich, spent a lot of his free time playing cards. He greatly enjoyed eating a snack while still keeping one hand free for the cards. So he came up with the idea to eat beef between slices of toast, which would allow him to finally eat and play cards at the same time. Eating his newly invented “sandwich,” the name for two slices of bread with meat in between, became one of the most popular meal inventions in the western world.
What’s interesting about this is that you are very likely to never forget the story of who invented the sandwich ever again. Or at least, much less likely to do so, if it would have been presented to us in bullet points or other purely information-based form.
For over 27,000 years, since the first cave paintings were discovered, telling stories has been one of our most fundamental communication methods. Recently a good friend of mine gave me an introduction to the power of storytelling, and I wanted to learn more.
This article seems to hit the nail on the head: http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2013/11/surviving-post-employment-economy-201311373243740811.html
The job market lacks the characteristics of a free market: there is a massive disparity between the numbers of buyers and sellers, entry barriers are complex and massive, we human ‘factors of production’ lack perfect mobility (moving to a new city for a job has a definite cost), employers have a massive information advantage over employees, we are certainly not homogenous products… and the wage market was never like any other market anyway.
A normal seller sells multiple units over given timescales, and can fall short or exceed their targets.
Workers-as-firms, selling their own capacity to produce, only make a single trade: they give their work to some enterprise, or they do not. And if they do not, the market considers their value to be ‘depreciating’ (barring obvious value-enhancing substitute pursuits such as higher education.)
If workers cannot trade their labor, even for free or at a loss, their value depreciates even as their flat operating costs (living space, food, etc) continue. Eventually, if a worker cannot make a trade, they starve (barring charity.)
Meanwhile, since companies can easily operate one or two workers down, they have the reservation option of working with fewer employees until a qualified employee willing to work for their target salary (or lack thereof) appears. Thus, supply, demand, and the demand upon workers to supply or depreciate drives the price of work to zero.
So we see the rise of the unpaid internship, the non-stipended fellow, the post-baccalaureate volunteer, the minimum wage white collar temp. Workers unable to trade their labor at a profit (or even for any money at all) nevertheless trading their labor in the hope of being able to trade for profit later.
But markets have another side- when workers make more, they consume more. The basic income effect of markets. They begin consuming new sorts of goods, at higher volumes, causing firms to expand or newly form. Money velocity increases, actual economic value increases, and that sort of rising tide can lift all boats.
So let our generation make firms to employ ourselves- to meet the demands we’ll be able to pay for once we’re employing each other. Boycott every company that uses unpaid interns. And make a pledge: that no human being should produce for nothing.
All human beings are capable of making valuable contributions to the world. So let’s create a world that looks like that, rather than begging at the tables of exploitative.
Reach out to the young people in your area, the in-between, the struggling, the dissatisfied, the interns, the volunteers. Let’s create our own markets, our own economies, and take freedom and fairness as our rights.
Friendships with people who are poor or vulnerable can challenge our arrogance in thinking we know how to fix their circumstances. Our sweeping critiques of multinational corporations become more nuanced when friends are grateful for their jobs and proud of their products. Friendships undermine our tendency to locate the problem ‘out there’ and to try to fix it at a distance. And friendship gives an urgency to our work for justice, to our search for ways to affect the decisions of multinationals and governments. Friends who are poor challenge our lifestyles of consumption when they build generous and gracious lives out of very few material resources.–
- Christopher Heuertz and Christine Pohl
Friendship at the Margins.
– Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha (via samsaranmusing)
Let me tell you about the middle path. Dressing in rough and dirty garments, letting your hair grow matted, abstaining from eating any meat or fish, does not cleanse the one who is deluded. Mortifying the flesh through excessive hardship does not lead to a triumph over the senses. All self-inflicted suffering is useless as long as the feeling of self is dominant.
You should lose your involvement with yourself and then eat and drink naturally, according to the needs of your body. Attachment to your appetites—whether you deprive or indulge them—can lead to slavery, but satisfying the needs of daily life is not wrong. Indeed, to keep a body in good health is a duty, for otherwise the mind will not stay strong and clear.
– Writing About Writing (And Occasionally Some Writing): Changing The Creepy Guy Narrative (via veruca-assault)
He waited until the train was in motion to make his move—a true sign of someone who knows how to make the environment work to their advantage. Then he leaned forward. “Hi.” “How you doing?” “What are you reading?” “What’s your name?” “I really like your hair.” “That’s a really nice skirt.” “You must work out.”
It was painful to watch. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him, and he clearly wasn’t going to take the hint. Her rebukes got firmer. “I’d like to read my book.” And he pulled out the social pressure. “Hey, I’m just asking you a question. You don’t have to be so rude.” She started to look around for outs. Her head swiveled from one exit to another.
The thing was, I had already heard this story, many many times. I knew how it would play out. I knew all the tropes. I probably could have quoted the lines before they said them. I wanted a new narrative. Time to mix it up.
So I moved seats until I was sitting behind him. I leaned forward with my head on the back of his seat.
"Hi," I said with a little smile.
He looked at me like I was a little crazy—which isn’t exactly untrue—and turned back to her.
"How are you doing?" I asked.
"I’m fine," he said flatly without ever looking back.
"I really like your hair," I said. "It looks soft."
That’s about when it got…..weird.
He sort of half turned and glared back me, and I could tell I was pissing him off. His eyes told me to back the hell away, and his lips were pressed together tightly enough to drain the color from them completely.
But no good story ever ends with the conflict just defusing. He started to turn back to her.
"Wait, don’t be like that," I said. "Lemmie just ask you one question…"
"What!" he said in that you-have-clearly-gone-too-far voice that is part of the freshmen year finals at the school of machismo.
And I’m not exactly a hundred percent sure why I didn’t call it a day at that point, but…..maybe I just love turning the screw to see what happens. I gave him the bedroomy-est eyes I could muster. “What’s your name?”
Right now I’m sitting here typing out this story, and I’m still not entirely sure why I’m not nursing a fat lip or a black eye. Because that obviously made him so mad that I still am not sure why it didn’t come to blows. There are cliches about eyes flaring and rage behind someones eyes and shit like that that are so overdone. But it really does look like that. When someone gets violent, their eyes just kind of “pop” with intention—pupils dilate, eyelids widen. And his did. Even sitting down he was clearly bigger than me and I was pretty sure he was kind of muscular too, so at that moment I was figuring I was probably going to need an ice pack and sympathy sex from my girlfriend by day’s end.
"DUDE," he shouted. "I’M NOT GAY."
That’s when I dropped the bedroom eyes and switched to a normal voice. “Oh well I could see not being interested didn’t matter to you when you were hitting on her, so I just thought that’s how you rolled.”
i want this mentality again.