Author: gulley

When a buggy thing gives you the creeps, what’s going on? They’re perfectly reasonable (and very successful) creatures. Why cringe? If your skin crawls, is it because you imagine bugs literally crawling across you? Or is it the totally alien nature of their buggy bodies compared to ours? Their endlessly varied spines and hairs, their convoluted inside-out-ness, their crunchy skin filled with undifferentiated goo? You just can’t sympathize with a fly, but it still puzzles me why. Please tell me your theories.

The movie The Fly uses creepy bugginess to good effect, but actually it’s hard for the special effects boys to get bugginess right. What would a fly really look like if it’s head were as big as yours? Nikon has been running a microscopy contest, and the winner this year is a stunning natural-color head-on view of a fly. I was arrested by this image. Most bug snapshots are electron micrographs. They’re beautiful, but otherworldly, hard to place in the real world. But this Nikon prizewinner, it’s easy for me to imagine serving it tea in my living room (be sure and look at the LARGE version). It makes me want to study it and make friends with it, somehow. Imagine a petstore filled with dog-sized flies banging around in large cages as delighted children look on. On second thought, don’t. Too late. Yuck.

Be sure and look at some of the other Nikon winners. It’s one of the best things about living in a technically advanced society: so many fabulous pictures!

The Red Sox are done for 2005 – cooked in three quick games. The pain of elimination, one year after winning it all, is nothing like that same pain in years past. It is nothing remotely like the pain of the 2003 post-season, in which some demon scripted a particularly cruel eleventh-hour defeat at the hands of the Yankees.

These days, that loss is seen primarily as a dramatic backstory to the championship that followed. But I suspect that I am not alone in finding the loss in 2003 to be a more magnetic and beguiling memory even than the unbelievable victory in 2004. This is not nostalgia for defeat, more a sense of touching something deeper. There is a particular song I listened to often during the 2003 race, a haunting instrumental piece called “Lauren’s Waltz.” To this day, whenever I hear it, I am suddenly back in that moment of loss and punished hope. So close. The sense of frustrated longing was so aching, so piercing and intense. Of course much of my own personal pain was projected onto that loss… there is an implicit promise that victory in sports means victory over all adversity. Why should defeat be more memorable than victory? Because in life we do not win the way one wins a baseball game. All longing, once requited, is simply replaced by more longing, an endless cycle which must ultimately be frustrated. There is no end to longing, only to life. I ache therefore I am. 2004 was an embrace of victory. Victory is joyous, brash, impermanent. She will leave. 2003 was an embrace of unrequited longing. She is the one who will always love you. Love her, and you can know peace.

Losing brings fellowship, fellow-suffering, togetherness. After 2003, the old diehard Sox fans said to the new recruits “See how painful it is? Come sit over here by me. I understand.” After 2004, some said “I paid my dues, did you? Do you deserve to celebrate with me?”

I don’t regret winning for a instant. But the lessons of losing are worthwhile.

I’m obsessed with LibraryThing, and there’s a good chance, if you’re much of a book person, you will be obsessed with it too. LibraryThing is a service that lets you build your own virtual library online. As such, you can use it to represent your real bookshelf, books you wish you owned, or even the bookshelf you will have in heaven when you complete your last earthly chapter.

Like a lot of bookstore loiterers, I have more books than shelf space. LibraryThing solves a big problem for me. I can see and organize my books online without having to schlep around their physical counterparts. I had been admiring the bookshelf software called Delicious Monster, but LibraryThing is much better. It’s net-based, and it’s got the social aspects of del.icio.us and others.

Here’s my catalog so far.

When your shoelace snaps, that’s entropy, a tiny fragment of universal decay that drips onto your back from an obscure and lingering extra-dimensional cloud. If you are prepared for this kind of sporadic unraveling, you go find your extra shoelaces in the top drawer of your dresser, whistle a happy tune, re-lace your shoe and away you go. The entropy has drained away, for now anyway, and you can continue living in merry denial of the second law of thermodynamics.

But sometimes, either through lack of planning, laziness, or both (mea culpa), these desultory drip-drops can turn into a regular downpour of fraying entropy. This week my watchband broke, then my computer started to fail, then my web host account stopped working, and then the rattle in my car (just off warranty) turned out to require $1200 worth of repair thereby failing its overdue inspection.

I don’t mention these things to claim that my troubles are severe, but you do get the feeling, when you get caught in an entropy storm, that something is going terribly wrong, and it’s going wronger faster than you can fix it. It’s as if there’s an accelerating feedback loop. The entropy drainpipes are clogged and you can see it pooling up around you like a dark corrosive tide. At times like this, you just have to concentrate on one thing at a time. The zen of Getting Things Done can rescue you by insisting that you pick one thing and fix it. I was amazed how much better I felt just dropping off my watch at the watch repair store. That cleared the drain enough for me to change web hosts and make an appointment for my suffering car. Tomorrow I re-install Windows to clean the gremlins off this machine… wish me luck! The cloud has backed off momentarily, and I can pretend it doesn’t exist again. In my memories it never does. And where does all that entropy drain to anyway? Best not to think about it.

Which reminds me: What did Mr. Death say after he stopped by for a drink?

“See you later!”

To what extent is your life just a sequence of tricks, shortcuts, and workarounds that you’ve learned over time?

The term “life hacks” is being used these days to describe discrete techniques and heuristics that can make you more productive and (sometimes) happier. As the author of an upcoming book entitled Life Hacks, Danny O’Brien, says, “Hacks are often a way of cutting through an apparently complex system with a really simple, nonobvious fix.” Here’s a favorite of mine that I use fairly often. If you’re afraid you might forget to take some important thing to work tomorrow, put your car keys underneath it.

Various blogs are devoted to this topic. One is even called Lifehacker. I read Lifehacker regularly, and I regularly find something useful to try. The Danny O’Brien quote above comes from an interview on that site (here’s another good interview with O’Brien’s co-author Merlin Mann). Still, I find myself wondering, what is it really that makes some people particularly productive? A pack of clever tricks and what else? O’Brien himself puts it well: “If I’m honest … most of this capability doesn’t come from habits. It just comes from being born insufferably talented.” In other words, super-talented people have learned some useful tricks, and these tricks take them from being merely 8.6 times more effective than you are to 8.95 times more effective. Think of all the people who try to play music more beautifully by buying the most expensive instrument. It only gets you so far.

What I’d really like to see is a blog called LifeDiaries, or something like that, dedicated to how productive people manage large chunks of their time. What is it that you do with discipline day after day? I bet super-productive people are not only more talented than you… they also work much much harder. It’s nice to know things like that. When you’re so obviously outclassed, it becomes easier to relax, drink a beer, and concentrate on something you really enjoy.

Finally, here’s my life hack contribution to you, free of charge: first, have a brilliant idea. Then do a really good job making it happen.

I oughta write a book.

Give a meme a name and it just might take off. By way of Jon Udell, I discovered that Dave Winer has given a name to my preferred feed reading technique: river of news. The basic idea is this. If you’re going to look at a bunch of little text items like RSS feed snippets, you can go visit them one by one, or you can glue them all together and scan through the whole thing at one go. If you like the one by one approach, your favorite interface will probably be a three-paned affair like a typical newsreader. I hate this. I want to read something that feels like a newspaper column. The first feed aggregator I really went for was called Aggie, and it just mashed everything into one giant HTML page. Dirt simple, but it worked like a charm. Aggie is defunct, but not to worry, because the mighty Bloglines picked up where Aggie left off. Bloglines doesn’t make you clicky-click click on everything to read it. And now I have a name for it.

I am fairly certain this is the kind of thing the Digital Millennium Copyright Act frowns upon. If the War on Terrorism has got you down, here’s a way to let your furry friends keep you up-to-date without freaking you out. The guy behind geek and proud has created a dandy Terror Alert Level indicator that you can paste directly into a web page.

Today’s Terror Alert Level is

Remember: If you see Elmo, it’s time to duck and cover (just as soon as you put those toys away and give Elmo a big hug).