Work(ing Title)

The P-Mate. If you thought women’s suffrage was a big deal, you’re gonna shit your pants when you get a load of this thing.

The Hiptop/Sidekick II should be in my grasp soon. Until I can wag it in front of your silly faces, you’ll have to enjoy the FCC filing.

The, “Innovative and sensual…” Float bed design. The sound of wood and steel slamming together makes for the ultimate coital soundtrack.

Like I told Eli yesterday, Japan is technologically a decade ahead of the United States. Educationally however, they’re probably only a couple years ahead.

Now instead of being a target of airport portable theft, I can look like an international pizza delivery boy.

The NailJet Pro. Looks like receptionists everywhere will feel the joy of the girl at Mr. Zorg’s office sooner than I thought.

We’re all pretty excited about the new Michael Moore movie. All of us except Christopher Hitchens anyway.

Not much posting over the past weekend. Eli was in town for memorial weekend, so my idle hands were occupied with something other than this thumbpad.

I was sitting in math class just a little while ago learning about the sum/difference of perfect cubes. Everyone knows this argument (because I think everyone has used it at some point), but I feel like restating it: Where in life will I use this shit?! If anyone can point me to a real world application that requires me to execute the formula: A cubed + B cubed = (A+B)(A squared - AB + B squared) then please show it to me. Otherwise we should dial down the egos of Mathematicians and get on with our lives. Wouldn’t the young adults of America be better served learning to manage their bank accounts, taxes, and investment portfolios?

Then instead of each generation going through a period of loathing their educational workload, we could have some fiscially-knowledgable young people putting more money into their savings and the markets, and less into hideous Louis Vuitton handbags, which mind you won’t hold the smallest textbook. There must be a motive behind continuing the tradition of Americans spending money and not accounting for it.

As Bob Pierce says, when you want to understand why something is, figure out who profits. In my current example, those profiting are math professors and VISA/AMEX, whose cards we use to purchase our stupid designer purses. Well factor out the professors, because they’re driven by a need to survive and a need to justify all the time they spent learning to teach this non-applicable shit. This leaves us with the credit card companies, who need to perpetuate a lack of fiscal responsiblity, as it continues their very healthy revenue stream.

I think the conclusion I’ve reached is that if Tyler Durden had his way, I wouldn’t have to sit through that class.

I’ve been on a New York City kick recently, mostly the effect of daydreaming about surprising Eli with a visit had she gone there this summer. While waiting to start work today, I found this site dedicated to the different maps of Manhattan island throughout its development. Also a series of photos of the sunset on Manhattan, which was lined up perfectly with the city grid. Next I came across a rough chapter of Edward Tufte’s upcoming book Beautiful Evidence. Then reading about Matt Webb’s project to push the Da Vinci notebooks via RSS sounded like a great way to digest my current bedside reading. Finally, this fake snow is the best way to decorate a room, and will be intricate to my replica of the patio from the end of Kill Bill.

Rini and I got out of Troy an hour ago, and a couple things have sunk in.

First, the film was quite good. Better than the previous epic war films of the year in so far as here you have two equally honorable warriors leading their forces into battle.

Second, I have found a more pointed disapointed in ‘The Greek Life.’ The function of
fraternities seems to have been distilled to drinking, taking advantage of young women, and ruthlessly leveraging the alumni roster.

It makes me want to start a fraternity–no not with Vince Vaughan at the helm, but rather something that lives up to the honor and dignity of superheros like Achilles and Hector. What if fraternities were more like athletic teams; pitching great battles for respect and glory, like Il Palio.

No doubt such an organization, composed of young men, would have its share of drinking and partying. However, the pursuits of these men would be more noble and beautiful, in order to avoid the unsavory moniker that hangs like a long shadow over so many college campuses.

Visiting Eli last weekend, she pointed out the, “rapist frat,” as we were walking back from dinner. I suppose knowing people you care about live in places with that word on their mental maps can crystallize your viewpoint.

I was on the beach with Eli, and at that moment nowheredan sent me an invitation to obtain my very own GMail account. After determining the only truly righteous email address could involve my AIM screenname, I set about reading my daily blogs.

It was while reading Kottke.org that I noticed the relaunching of Blogger. The double-google-whammy hit me like a steaming pile of bulljive; clearly my new GMail address needed a fresh weblog to garnish.

So here we are, the innagural post, tapped out on my uber-phone no less. If it all works properly, there will most-likely be four more entries before my attention is sapped away by something shiny…or Eli’s butt.