Why Some Things Float

Ice cubes float in fruit juice as evidence that cool things float to the surface. Being nothing but frozen water they coolify all things that surround them. The magnanimous nature of ice cubes keeps them light hearted and this buoyancy raises them to the surface.

Of course, that doesn't explain Fruit Loops.

Fruit Loops float in milk simply because they are shaped like lifesavers with a hole in the middle. The force of gravity pushes down in the hole thereby elevating the cereal surrounding it. It's a pressure thing.

Unless you're a bubble. Then things are different...

Bubbles float in water for a very good reason. They aren't water. They hate water. And while both are made up of oxygen, the two are more like distant cousins that don't like each other. Bubbles can hang out with water but they make sure they're on top.

So if you float it's for one of three reasons: 1) You're cool, 2) You have a hole in the middle, or 3) You like it on top.

Hope this helps.

The Importance of a Lopsided Noodle

"Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most." Mark Twain

Dear ___________;

Oh my! After dreaming of you last night I got up and thought to get dressed in something special so I changed in a Mercedes-Benz (and put my socks on backwards). I did this not for you but just to reflect that indescribable (not uncrampish) feeling that you left in my mind.

I believe I gave you a claim ticket so you can pick it up again where you left off. If you forget I'll leave it hanging on the tree I took the branch off of when I promised a logo but forgot the second 'o' so I had to find a log.

"Let's eat peppermint nuts," I suggested in my dream – wondering at the same time if the mints would actually miss them at all, "and sing bad baritone impersonations of a Leonard Cohen melody."

On the way home we put corn flakes into the beds of people who couldn't seem to dance when they'd forgotten they had legs but found horned gurus for hire to jitterbug on lumpy brains. And then we found ourselves on vacation and forgot about being punctual about punctuation                   (.)

In the light of day, I've come to a realization we don't need lamps in this room at all. And the fridge should really be moved over just a tad to allow the plug to reach the socket. By the way, I think that dress looked much better on you than on that woman who stood screaming in her underwear.

So let's invent a sugar that doesn't dissolve in water so when you ask me how many spoonfuls I've put in your Orange Pekoe I can just hold the glass up to the light and say, "One and a half, would you like a bit more?"

Except... you knew there was going to be an except, didn't you? My, my, you're wonderful.

Love you to bits,

Rand

Next week: back to something serious. And it won't be about how to get spaghetti to stand up straight in your fingers without it flopping over. (Hint: It's much easier if you do it before you boil it.)

..."Spaghetti... I can't eat spaghetti, there's too many of them. No matter how hungry I am, 1000 of something is too many." Mitch Hedberg

Character from Characters

Emoticons are in use all over the computer world. They're a fun use of type, used to indicate meaning and temper the sometimes stark written word. Everyone by now knows what a simple :), or the more traditional :-), or my clown version :o) says about the words that precede them. In effect, rather than making words from letters, we're making pictures from them – ready for interpretation. Here are a few I've done. They're sort of like a secret code from childhood days that everyone is not supposed to know but everyone does. What fun!

The use of type symbols in written communications is not new. This from Wikipedia:

"Typographical emoticons were published in 1881 by the U.S. satirical magazine Puck. In 1912 Ambrose Bierce proposed "an improvement in punctuation — the snigger point, or note of cachinnation: it is written thus \___/! and presents a smiling mouth."

Emoticons are the common man's art. They're friendly, unassuming and feeling-based. When used as a casual logosymbol, they lend meaning to company and event names. And as is often the case with wonderful design projects, if someone has fun coming up with something, the viewer might have fun looking at it.

That just doesn't seem right, really.

After all, we're supposed to be serious professionals with total commitment to the exclusive, artistic purity, integrity and complex meanings associated with the design rationale and graphic interpretation.

Oh my, the guilt! ;op

Asking For A Sign

The Sign In My Backyard. 

"This sign I give unto you: every people speaketh its language of good and evil: this its neighbour understandeth not." Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book For All And None by Nietzsche, Friedrich

Time for another blog post. It has been a weird last couple of months and I say that without remorse. But I had been asking for someone to send me a sign that I was on the right path. So, in the last few days I've found myself thinking about Nietzche's book Thus Spoke Zarathustra. This act itself seems to have lead to my sign. It's amazing that Nietzche predicted my becoming a Übermensch so long ago. It's a sign from the past. Something like the one in my backyard that I stole but not quite.

Let me explain. For those of you who haven't read the book, or tried but couldn't get through it, I'll give you a bit of a background (and I won't give away the ending). Suffice to say a it's a dense and esoteric treatise on philosophy and morality. The book stars a character coincidentally called Zarathustra, who in real life was an ancient Persian prophet who was the first to preach that the universe is engaged in a fundamental struggle between good and evil (which had a profound effect on the moral set up of both the Christian and Jewish faiths). This concept of good versus evil thing, of course, lead to all sorts of messes in today's modern world. So, Nietzsche names his character Zarathustra because as he puts it, “Zarathustra created this most calamitous error, morality; consequently, he must also be the first to recognize it.” In short, Nietzsche reinvents Zarathustra in order to correct the philosophical mistakes he felt the prophet made. It's like the first "what if" scenario in literary history.

He creates the concept of the Übermensch (roughly translated as "overman"– sometimes “superman” but should really be referred to without the male connotation) as his ideal of a creative, independent, spiritual genius. It's the final step in an evolution of humanity from the ape (I've met a few) through to man (meaning that not as a male thing) to overman. An overman is very sexy, highly intelligent (like readers of this blog) and he or she has his own morality, self directed and suited only to him or her.

In order for one to become a full overman one has to create their own values. You cannot subscribe to those thousands of peoples with their thousand different conceptions of good and evil: a conception of good that expresses the goals they hope to achieve. So, I looked, and voila, I have unknowingly been doing this for very many years. Alas, THE SIGN.

But I'm not totally 'there' yet. I must still remind myself to suffer. Suffering is evidently as essential to becoming an overman as ketchup is to french fries. And change is essential. The new Zarathustra asserts that life and wisdom are like dancing women: constantly changing, always seductive. Those who have a healthy attitude toward life and truth enjoy their constantly changing nature. People who see truth as fixed, which is what religion and politics would have us believe, have sadly grown tired of life. I'm okay with change, and have the laundry to prove it. And if I must I can put up with the dancing women thing.

The best part, and the one that convinced me I'm on the verge of overman status, is that Nietzsche states that only the most original in society can rise above the masses and shine. Therefore, an artist has a better chance to hit overman status than a political or religious leader.

So move over: I am about to arrive. I have seen the sign. Now leave me alone. I have a mountain cave to disappear to for quite a while and there is a dance floor to be installed.

With Friendship Comes Rewards

All colors are the friends of their neighbors and the lovers of their opposites.  Marc Chagall

This started out as a story about the fickle aspects of friendship, about how it comes and goes, about sometimes we kick friendship around like a tin can for a while and sometimes once we have it, it gets lost in a snow pile and then you find it later on when the snow melts and it's as good as ever; but I got sidetracked into thinking about how there are people that figure they can buy friends, or rent them depending on what is on their calendar that day or about how about when one person falls in love with another person's significant other or that sale of the '07 lemon of a car wrecked the friendship and what a mess that made out of my mind. (Was that a run-on sentence?) 

We need to clean this up. Maybe we could all have a huddle and come to a clear cut agreement amongst ourselves that we should hand out points that can add up to true friendship, because I'm totally confused. It could be just like large business awards loyalty points for return customers. We're all our own brands these days, after all. Why shouldn't we build on that? We could all carry around little cards that would track our traits and build brand friendship loyalty. Handshakes would be worth so many points. Personal references more. Picking up the tab for pizza lunches – definitely more. Holding one's head over the toilet when you're barking at the ants? Bonus points. And then whenever we wanted to we'd all get together for a tally-up and figure out who our friends really are.

We could all have cards with our names on them and a cool graphic of a bridge like the one above (available at a cut rate for the next 30 days but I retain the rights to the image and trademark) depicting the linking of souls or some such and come up with brand strategies complete with, instead of a CRM (customer relationship management) program, a FRM (friendship relationship management) program using technology to organize, automate, and synchronize friendship processes. Based on metrics. We have the software. Yes Virginia, there is an app for that.

Until recently this approach would have gone against my grain because personally I'd rather entertain gaining loyalty from my prospective friends by offering quality of experience, the occasional payoff or giving a better price than my competition for my company right off the bat. But that's so old school. We can do things much more efficiently now. 

The overall goals would be to find, attract, and win new friends, nurture and retain those you already have, entice former friends back into the fold, and reduce the costs of marketing and friend maintenance services. If you don't have to buy the guy a Ferrari, why do it?

Loyalty born out of need, habit, coercion, convenience, downright greed or silly faddishness is the new reality. True loyalty may have come from an ancient place called the land of Integrity but now friendship is based on what I have that you can use to further your means to an end. It's you relating to me because I carry a brand image that you would like other people to associate with your own personal brand. Think of it as ugly people who normally wouldn't be allowed to do so, hanging out with beautiful people singing songs about world love on a hilltop in Switzerland. For a price, you could wear my name and logo on your shirt because my brand identity gives you personal qualities I have that you might never attain on your own.

We're building bridges here. Eliminating personal silos. And if I can't track your friendly habits today, how am I seriously supposed to maximize your experience tomorrow?

I ask you.

So let us build some bridges; bridges born of the greatest marketing minds the world has ever know. Bridges that never rust, never waver and never, ever give way.

Sign up now and reap the benefits of membership! (Reward points expire after 30 days if not used.)

This has been a Tongue-In-Cheek production.

Life In The Fast Lane

Doing dishes in bathrobe, looking out window

In my spare time (when I can get away from waiting for the paparazzi, mocking up schedules for the hectic pace of public appearances that I'll need when I become rich and famous) I like to do the things that normal people do. I like to hang around the house in my bathrobe, do dishes and look out windows. For evidence, I offer this non-posed, candid pic entitled "Doing dishes in bathrobe, looking out window". When I'm not doing that sometimes I take out the garbage, write naughty limericks, make sure all the clocks in my house are set to the same time and do laundry (not at the same time, I like to pace myself). It's difficult to lead such an exciting life. Every second is a wonder.

Every second, indeed. As serene your life may seem on the surface, there's a lot going on. On average 100,000 different chemical reactions are occurring in your brain every second, and 400,000 radioactive atoms are disintegrating into other atoms in your body. In that same second your body will lose about 3 million red blood cells, and your bone marrow will produce the same number of new ones.

As you can tell, I've done some research. The interweb is a wonderful place. Taken at face value, according to various unnamed and unconfirmed sources, it's estimated that every second 750,000 gallons of water flow over Niagara Falls, 602 Lego pieces are produced, 115 cell phones are shipped for sale and lightning strikes the earth 60 times. Bet you couldn't have lived without knowing that. But wait, there's more!

The sun is flinging a million tons of matter out into space every second. Four babies are born, 200 celestial stars are born, more than 2.8 million emails, 200,000 text messages, 3,282 tweets and 7.9 new Facebook users are born, and 28,258 people are viewing pornography on the internet every second. And it's reported that David Beckam makes $1.05 while Stephen Spielberg makes $3.49. One hour of video is uploaded to YouTube every second. Every summer Americans consume 818 hot dogs and 350 slices of pizza per second. It is indeed a busy world. 

I don't know if all the above statistics are real, timely or accurate. I assume they were posted because there is a possibility of accuracy. There were more but I decided to leave out the grizzly, downer ones about world poverty, infant mortality and stats that list dietary dangers for commercial gain. Still – as much as I tried, there were some stats that I couldn't find that I would have liked to. So I decided to make up a few to fill in...

Every second:
1) 12,056 people fall in love, (with each other, as opposed to inanimate objects, movie and rock stars)
2) 321 folks recognize chocolate as a food group
3) 3.2 political leaders shake their heads and begin to serve their constituents Baskin and Robbins. As a result "brain freeze" becomes popular again
4) 6 former do-gooders get civic awards by allowing other individuals the dignity to make their own decisions about their lives. As a result the sales of those sucky thank you cards goes through the roof
5) 1.5 substance abusers switch out recreational drugs for those tiny carrots and are allowed to grow their own
6) 3.75 households realize they don't need those new, improved plastic household gadgets sold on television, resulting in .003 percent reduction of China's GNP
7) 5.6 people choose to facilitate resolutions to issues rather than exasperate them for their own gain. Self-styled gurus/consultants find their future prospects bleak
8) 7 self-centered people take the "pass it on" pledge and as a result reality television dies
9) 3 people trade real guns for the nerf variety, causing future deaths during wartime to be punctuated by cries of "Got ya!" and "Did not!" and
10) 261 people recognize Barney Rubble as the greatest actor of all time.

I know, I know. Pie in the sky. All we can do is wait and hope, (although I'm not sure how long Barney is going to put up without that lifetime Academy Award) in the meantime I'll be doing dishes in my bathrobe, looking out the window. Until the rich and famous thing kicks in, of course.

The Ugly Demise of Television

Okay, now you've done it. You network executives have sunk so low in your money pinching, profit maximizing, lowest common denominator programming, bottom line wrangling and board of directors assuaging that you've wrecked the whole thing. And now, not only has over-the-air, free, quality programming gone the way of the dodo bird, television in general is headed toward extinction.

Paid programming fills valuable airtime with 1/2 hour commercials that preach the health benefits of electric blenders and takes up space that could have been used for innovation. Thanks to your profit-centered commercial motivation the general public is subjected to 1) hairy-armed, brawny men yelling at us to buy their cleaning products, 2) once overweight ladies trying to convince us that their nutritional supplements should be a part of a daily healthy lifestyle, 3) unbelievable demonstrations of little plastic cups that should be employed in place of nature's shells to hard boil eggs, 4) mean-faced, spitting owners of gold buying services shaking hundred dollar bills in our face, and 5) some guy named Vince jumping around with a clothes brush telling us to get rid of our pussy hairs (he actually uses that term, I'm not trying to be stupid). This is not advertising. These are acts of ugliness and a personification of the phrase attributed to P.T. Barnum – "there is a sucker born every minute".

You, television industry leaders, have taken what could have been a positive element in the lives of millions of viewers and done nothing but try to prove H.L. Mencken's “No one in this world, so far as I know has ever lost money by underestimating the intelligence of the great masses of the plain people” with a preponderance of senseless reality shows, idiotic game shows where every contestant appears to have "a beautiful wife and three lovely children", mindless pseudo-celebrity-ridden talk shows and three hour so-called newscasts complete with opinionated news readers, self-professed pundits of every persuasion and weathermen who presume to tell me what I'm eating is wrong. Why? Simply because these shows cost little to produce. And the associated profits resonate with shareholders. And after all, bonuses are given for slick frugality, not quality.

Well your three hundred dollar haircuts have caught up with you – television's days are numbered. You have given new technology, with its interactive, personal experience, a reason to be.

Parents would much rather have their children using their free time playing video games or surfing the web for age-appropriate sites rather than watching an "arts" channel showing poor, disturbed people who pack their houses to the ceiling with crap or confrontations with hapless addicts in hotel rooms. Young people, instead of purchasing a cable television package and having their intelligence insulted with freaky bounty hunters, embarrassing talent shows judged by so-called stars (sipping their sponsored soft drinks), and "entertainment" programs that do nothing but follow the antics of celebrities of no particular redeeming social value, are now getting their news from the web and downloading the programming they want to see when they want to see it. Quality dramas, educational programs, sporting events, and movies. Older folks are flicking off the tube and discovering YouTube, watching a video, taking walks in nature, reading books on tablets, getting together with friends on Skype or rediscovering actual in-person visits and even playing (shudder) board games. Even 1080 HD, 3D, gazillion-inch flat screens and PBS can't save you now.

Now, people have options. And instead of spending the last 40 years building reasons why they don't need these options and need not switch to them, you have done nothing but give people every reason to do so.

As Gomer Pyle once said, "Shame, shame, shame!"

The Banishment Of Angst And Chicken Teeth

So if there is something I can definitely do without in the New Year, (next to reality television, half-hour advertorials on the splendors of blenders and hair removal product commercials) I'd have to say it would be angst.

To imagine what inward angst would sound like, I offer the Wilhelm scream, a sound effect that has been replicated in over 225 movies, television shows and video games since it's creation in 1951:
Angst (literally German, Dutch, Danish and Norwegian for "fear") has been around since before Christ was a cowboy but Danish philosopher Søren Kirkegaard (1813-1855) put a name to it and French writers, Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus brought it to the mainstream consciousness in the early Twentieth Century. Then, James Dean demonstrated teen angst brilliantly in the fifties. Since then, with the emergence of individualism and the "me generation" it's been a right of passage for people to look inside themselves for something of worth in relation to the world around them. When they don't find it, it's their right to claim they suffer from angst.

Philosophically speaking, angst is an existential (ie: "why am I here?") condition which can be defined as "the crisis of human existence." It's the individual trying to reconcile their place in relation to society.

If you're an artist it has become quite expected that you suffer from this affliction, lest you and your work be seen as shallow. The idea that being an artist automatically means suffering for your art is so ingrained in our society's norms that if you are a happy, joyous artist it means you must be overcompensating for a deep gash in your psyche... or you're just faking being an artist.

So we do angst. Or most of us do. Some, who are true masters in the angst craft, don't just suffer proper philosophical angst in silence. They take it to the second level, to something called "wangst", which is either "whiny angst" or "wanky angst" (depending on what side of the pond you're from). In order to perform this advanced degree of angst properly it must be as evident as false teeth on a chicken.

Suffering from philosophical angst, need not only be self centered, but it must be a pain in society's collective butt. It must be something that those from my father's generation (who were pretty cut and dried about emotional stuff) would not think twice about a good swift kick in the nether regions and demands to get out and find a real job.

So, in 2012, angst is gone from my repertoire of suffering techniques. It shouldn't be that hard to do because a number of years ago while going through a "Keep It Simple" thing I put the angst thing aside. This year, after being through some sh*t that makes Bambi Meets Godzilla look tame in comparison and not taking angst down from the shelf once, I decided I simply don't need it around anymore. So this coming year it's toast. It just complicates things when I figure I should be concentrating on the things that cause angst in the first place.

To me angst is like fixating over the big hole in the ground after the bomb has gone off.

And I figure on being the bomb.

The Almighty Human Struggle

"The more I see the less I know for sure." John Lennon 
 
Anyone who knows me knows that my mind does not exactly work in a normal way. (It's okay, I planned it that way.) Recently, due to circumstances beyond my control, I've had a lot of time to think. So, you'll forgive me if this post is abnormally long (and rambles on a bit).

I never really sit down to think about things of any real import but sometimes my mind goes where it wants to go. So, today I'd like to leave you with some thoughts based on the heady topics of peace, mankind and the almighty human struggle. Brace yourself:

1) Peace is an empty space.
If you can, think of peace as a space void of discord, pain and unhappiness. Oh, and there's no harmony, relief or joy either. No yin and yang, good or evil, just or unjust. This is the natural state of all things. The baseline. We come from this space before we're born and after we die we return to it. The moment we take over this organic brain of ours, our space is not empty anymore. We belong to this world. And all that comes with it.

2) Life is a wonderful, messy thing. 
At the instant we're born we're all equal. In the next instant, we're not. As much as we may be sheltered, we are subjected to expectations, conditions and prejudices. Our birth, and the education process that instantly follows, begins a process of discord (because we all have our own independent thoughts... and nothing is perfect), pain (because we have these pesky things called emotions and nerves... and nothing is perfect), and unhappiness (because we all suffer indignities and have unfulfillable wants... and nothing is perfect). Our growing up years subject us to things like test scores, competing in sports, and meeting expectations. Things like that. It's all normal. Since human beings roamed this planet we've had to provide food for ourselves, fight the savage beast for survival and compete with others of our kind for creature comforts. It's in our collective nature.

3) We can't beat ourselves up about it.
Fellow Canadian John Ralston Saul once wrote, "Everyone has an equal right to inequality." The mere fact that we have to have a bill of human rights, (and by the way laws to protect the innocent and pleas from aid organizations to feel the hungry, cure illness and help the disadvantaged) underscore the fact that we live with inequality. It surrounds us. It is us.

No matter how tall, good looking and smart we are there is always someone taller, better looking, more intelligent. No matter how proficient we are we live with the possibility there is someone just a bit faster, more exact, better equipped. And mostly that's okay. It's part of this thing called life. You can attempt to lead, choose to follow a passion, fart away your life, be a cheerleader or hide under the guise of mediocrity all you want but sooner or later, if you're a person of conscience like I am, you're going to ask or be asked, "So, what have you done with your life?" This is the final scorecard of a worthwhile life as we take our last physical breath and let it out.

4) Fighting the good fight means sometimes getting angry along the way.
Francesco Petrarca (July 20, 1304 – July 19, 1374), known in English as Petrarch, an Italian scholar, poet and one of the earliest humanists once said, "Five great enemies to peace inhabit with us: avarice, ambition, envy, anger and pride. If these enemies were to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual peace." It's a nice thought that sort of hit me like a platitude because where one thing is bad, it cannot exist without it's opposite. We'd also have to banish the other side of the human yin yang coin: charity, satisfaction, happiness and the contentment of achievement on some level. And that's not life.

Stuff like anger is going to exist. Especially with some of the idiots we have out there shooting their mouths off, doing really stupid things and who evidently only want to add to the discord. I don't have to name them. We all know who they are. Any righteous person would want to get angry.

There are those who would preach and those who would lecture. And that's okay if they have something intelligent to say or something positive to add. But if there's one thing I've learned it's that not every mouthpiece who figures they have the answers has answers of value.

Everyone develops their own agenda, system of beliefs and methods of practical morality over time. We're all individuals and our make up is generally composed of life's lessons. Trial and error. In fact, some think the period of our time on this earth is meant to be a time of trial bookended by times of solitude – the times before we're born and after we die. And while we're here, our attitude will help determine whether it is a wholesome, thoughtful, mostly positive experience or a life fraught with negativity, ignorance and discord.

Along the way we can take time to look out a window, notice small things of beauty like the sun rising, or drift away to a favorite piece of music and try to remember that empty space of peace that we all came from and will go back to. But in the meantime, it's my thought that we're all meant to fill up our lives here on earth with some kind of fight.

Hopefully, ours is the good fight.

All the best of the holiday season and a happy New Year to you all.

Peace.

Prompting Creativity - Update

Whoa, sorry for my long absence. Lots has been happening, but nothing worth mentioning except for a small book I've been working on in my spare time over the past few months. The cool thing about this project has been the involvement of people whom I've never met. Not in person anyway.

I was fortunate enough to receive the kindness, feedback, guidance and patience of professionals from places like England, the U.S., Scotland, Asia and France who I have met and gotten to both know and respect through online discussion groups. I am forever in their debt. The experience has proven there are good people all over this planet.

So, about the book. Sample inside spreads follow:

"There is no quantifiable thing called creativity in repose. There only exists evidence of things left behind after the act, testifying that creativity has actually taken place... ...there are things that predispose us toward being creative. Thoughts and actions that enable us to explore, to question, to open up that part of our mind that allows that jolt of inspiration and magic to happen." (from the introduction)

I believe it's a fun, fresh view of interest to everyone that searches for that creative spark in their lives, regardless of profession, interests, talents or abilities.

The book is listed at $20.00 plus shipping. It's 8.5" X 8.5", 76 pages (it grew!) on quality stock, perfect bound, and all art, design and writing you can blame on me. AND after like sixty thousand revisions, it's just gone to press (phew). If you're interested in pre-ordering, let me know.

I've never sold anything online before (antique dish towels on eBay don't count). Exciting, eh?

Trouble is Temporary...

Hey all. A few days off generally means several things. There is laundry to be done, I discover the butter on the counter has gone bad, I forget to shave, the weather turns bitter and it rains, and I get a cold. Or the flu. Not sure which this is yet, but it's early in the day.

October marks the third year of the routine torture of the sensibilities that Rand's Place provides, I become another year closer to overall decrepitude and there's also a new personal project in the works that I'll be sharing with you. Hang out. Just don't eat the butter.

Stay tuned!

Are You Fine? We Can Help.

A short post today. The world is going to hell in a handbasket. If you agree, you can go now...

But if you are happy, content in your lot in life, looking forward to tomorrow, sure that the universe is unfolding as it should: there is definitely something amiss.

If you aren't angst-ridden by continuing reports, haven't heard all the warnings and haven't woken up lately in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, there is something wrong. If you are fine, you may have a problem.

We have assembled a team of experts in environmental, philosophical, scientific, medical, psychological and global issues that should have you developing a facial tic and eating your fingernails in no time.

Research shows there are simply too many people that are content with their lot in life, paying their bills, doing their jobs, raising their families and hoping that things turn out for the best.

If you are one of these poor, "fine" people – pull the handle. Sound the alarm. We can help.

6 Ways Social Media Has It All Over Real Life

Social media is such a wonderful place. Real life could take some lessons. Here's how:

1) You get to talk with people from your past (who are alive, online and sociable), and from all over the world. Folks you might never have met, connected (or reconnected) with otherwise. If you're living with someone and you're not talking for some reason, you can message them from your chair and they can answer from theirs in the same room.

2) You get to delete any comments you may have made in the passion of the moment, or had second thoughts about and went "that was stupid". A deleted comment no longer exists and therefore has no recourse or guilt factor.

3) You can go "stealth" and peruse conversations, posts or tweets without anyone ever knowing you were there. This is tantamount to eavesdropping (note: not the same thing as "eavestroughing") even though you're doing so with the other parties understanding that this might happen. Still, pretty cool. You can learn, compare opinions, muse and laugh with full anonymity.

4) If you're in a chat room, a discussion thread or a forum and want to leave, you can. Instantly. If you don't like what people are saying, or a "noob" has invaded, or the direction of the conversation has taken a stupid turn or if it begins to bore you: you can hit "unsubscribe" and it disappears. No longer to be a part of your existence. Try doing that with the chatty neighbor, the nosy but well meaning colleague leaning over your office partition, or the telemarketers, religious, charitable or political well-meaning folks calling on you during dinner.

5) There is essentially no such thing as bad breath, and/or body odor drifting your way from people you are talking with. Unless the poster is inappropriately explicit, there is literally no way you can tell if they had raw garlic for dinner, haven't bathed in days, have stinky socks or are suffering from flatulence issues while you're sharing thoughts. This can be a benefit in oh so many ways when you'd like to concentrate on other people's words and not the toxic environment they may be coming from. And,

6) As long as you have picked a good photo for your profile, you cannot suffer from a bad hair day. No one need know about your rash, your facial tic or that zit in the middle of your forehead. You can be in your bath robe with curlers in your hair if you like, and no one will know. This allows you to be the wise person you want to be, unencumbered by mere physicality. Or the person you wish you were...

...or hope you will be sometime in the future.

The 1950's Mother Conspiracy: Revealed

Long before the JFK assassination theories, the Area 51 Aliens suspicions and the Paul is Dead thing, came the mother of all conspiracies.

Those of us born in the '50s came from a different, more terrifying world. Kids like me had like a thousand mothers. Yes, I'm talking about the Mother Conspiracy. There were neighbor mothers, mothers of friends, mothers of friends of friends, supermarket mothers, other people who weren't mothers but thought they should be, teacher mothers, babysitter mothers. They were everywhere. All out to wreck a kid's life every time you turned around.

Your own mother was the Real Boss of course, but you never knew who amongst The Conspiracy were able to report back to the Boss. So you had to mind your manners. All the bloody time.

Of all the mothers of the day, June Cleaver, the mother on the "Leave It To Beaver" show was the most nefarious. She appeared nice but to us kids that was a dead giveaway. She seemed just too good to be true. She always dressed like she was ready for a social gathering, said things like "Ward, I'm very worried about the Beaver" and "Wally, you know, I think you're a very nice young man." Oh man, when mothers said that you knew they wanted something.

I believe she was the Grand Poobah of the Mother Conspiracy. Mothers in the fifties took lessons from her. She demonstrated how to always be asking questions, like:
June: [cooking breakfast in the kitchen] What's in the paper, Ward?
Ward: Nothing.
June: Then why have you been reading it for the last twenty minutes?
Ward: Well, you have to read it, before you know there's nothing in it.

She instructed on the art of seemingly innocent but probing personal comments, like:
June: Ward Cleaver, you have no romantic instinct at all!
Ward: Dear, I'm a married man!

And she gave lessons on how to be as bossy as all get out:
June: [in the boys' bedroom] Good! You're just in time to help me turn the mattress.
Ward: Well, at least that's a change. I'm usually just in time to yell at the kids. 

Not to mention teaching how to dictate social morals to your children:
June: You know, both of you boys should watch your grammar.  
Beaver: Gee, Mom, this is Saturday - they make us watch it all week in school.

So you see what those of us born in the fifties had to deal with. You young pups have it good... Sorry for the long post today. I just had to get it out. It's been very therapeutic.

Happy birthday Mom. I hear your laughter still. Miss you...

Note: (Barbara Billingsley (December 22, 1915 – October 16, 2010) was a distinguished film, television, voice and stage actress who played June Cleaver on the television series Leave It to Beaver (1957–1963) and was a real life mother to two sons, Drew and Glenn, Jr.)

Guys: Hit The Bald Button.

Today I began to write about the benefits of social media when I was stopped in my tracks by a facebook post from one female colleague to a friend that featured a beefcake guy. Apparently one that was particularly alluring. Okay, the guy had a body that wouldn't quit complete with a six pack. And okay, maybe he was a major sports star with a seventeen-thousand figure income. But it all seemed to center on the fact that the guy didn't have a single hair on his head. Or anywhere on his body, from what I could tell, except for those adorable eyebrows. It hit me then. What I've been missing. Baldness.

Guys, those of us with hair are just a poor substitute for a bald guy. Think Telly Savalas, who not only made the quote "Who loves ya, baby?" famous but also wisely stated, "We're all born bald, baby," He rocked the world with the the lack of hair as a sign of virility. Look at guys like Vin Diesel, Yul Brynner, Billy Zane, Michael Stipe, Howie Mandel (really?) Bruce Willis, Sir Ben Kingsley, Patrick Stewart... Austin Powers... They're all heralded for their sex appeal.

I wish I were bald. Oh, to be follically challenged. My kingdom for a bald button...

Things We Keep

Yet another week and, in preparation, yesterday I went hunting for something that I knew I kept because although I thought I would probably never use it again I was certain I would need it if I threw it out. You know that stuff.

I knew exactly where it was. It was in the drawer where I put little things I think I might need again. Call it the junk drawer in my brain.

It was there amidst the things that tie things together, small tools that fix stuff and things to give power to other things. It was sitting on my late mother's hand-written recipe for her holiday turkey stuffing beside toothpicks, measuring cups, thingamajigs, whatchamacallits and do-hickies.

I'm always amazed at how much stuff fits in such a small space...

Might-come-in-handy-someday things.

I may be a little late for work today guys. I have to put all this stuff back...

Someone's Been Watering Down My Water

I can't prove it but I know. Someone's been diluting my reverse osmosis, remineralized, highly scientifically generated designer water with (shudder) tap water. I can tell.

And it's not the manufacturer. They have strict internal regulations and things like unions. No, it's got to be something that happens en route to the retailers. In some dingy warehouse off the highway by teams of unshaven men in sweaty undershirts, suspenders and big bellies. Fedoras covering balding heads, mouths chewing on cigar stubs. Turning whole crates of bottles upside down and inserting needles into the bottoms to switch the good stuff – not all of it, maybe half of it. Then a quick dab of crazy glue and back on the highway to unsuspecting customers.

Not only that, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the same group is putting dirt into my soil. Last spring I bought six bags of customized garden soil at the garden soil place and I swear they all held a good percentage of common backyard dirt...

...sprouting ordinary weeds. At first I thought I purchased a "bush in a bag" and didn't know it. Maybe it got mislabeled at the soil factory. Maybe I got a deal and should have paid more. But I don't think so. It was then that I first started suspecting.

It's probably a huge underworld thing. Unlike flagrant knock-off imitations it's practically undetectable.

It's like taking a box of specially formulated, premium, energy-saving, cold water clothes detergent and replacing half of it with budget hot water detergent from third world sweatshops. Who's going to know?

I was thinking of calling Interpol's organized crime unit but I'm sure they've already got an active file. After all, if I can figure it out...

Off On A Tangent

Sometimes it's nice to get back to some pure poop. Design can get so complex at times. Like life. The hardest thing to do is something clean and simple. Something that looks like it belongs on paper.

I don't know whether you'll get off on this or not, but an interesting logo development project for a friend's new venture (can't go into it – sworn to secrecy) led to an exploration of type, shape, format and color. We took our time. We explored different fonts, formations and mathematical relationships of circles (that I didn't quite understand but my friend did). What matters is when the design is completed all components work together to convey an appropriate and unique personality.

Design-wise, the process took me back to the basics. Make sure it works in black and white, reversed, on color and dropped out of a color. Let it breathe. Canada flag red seemed appropriate for a hot new enterprise and has stuck... for now. Keep it simple and give the graphic the ability to blossom in later collateral.

We're still tinkering. Hopefully it's nothing to do with more mathematics although I'm afraid it does. lol Thanks to Daniel for the nice collaboration.

Have a happy weekend everyone! (In spite of it all :o)

The Measurement Of Mirth

I came across this shareware meter on the web the other day. There is lots of neat stuff out there. This one allows for real time monitoring based on interpretations of readings from the moisture level of people's fingers on their keyboards. Cool, eh?

You are witnessing the reactions of people who are currently watching reruns of the Charlie Sheen Roast on the Comedy Central site...

Oh, wait. My mistake. I dialed the meter into a number of sites. This one is data from a certain unnamed politician's site.

My bad.

Those Nasty, Disagreeable Foods

You'll be glad to know that I never talk to my food.

I find holding a conversation with something I'm about to eat somewhat disconcerting. Food has talked to me though. (Occasionally I'll hear a "eat me, eat me" coming from a plate of moo shu chicken.) I've learned to accept that.

Lately though I've been having an increasingly difficult time with food that is blatantly disagreeable. I don't understand quite why. It's not that I go out of my way to aggravate it. I love food. I'm not disrespectful and I've never had a food fight. And I've never ever spoken badly about an egg salad when one is in the room.

Rather than getting into an argument I've chosen to stay away from some foods. Maybe it's a Canadian thing – avoiding conflict. Spicy foods, who I used to love, have now become tops on my list of foods that love to disagree with me without reason. Still, rather than cause a fuss, I stay away.

Broccoli has spoken back to me (in an elevator no less). And I've learned a tasty Enchilada con chile colorado holds the power to clear a full floor of an office tower. Potato salad, meatballs, borscht, sauerkraut, certain species of dim sum, and escargot have all been downright rude. It's affected my life. I've completely stopped going into big box stores after being caught completely unawares in the middle of one after a heaping helping of seafood chowder (try to find a washroom in a store the size of several football fields).

So, I've been forced to carefully pick the foods I associate with. Now, with autumn coming and windows being closed and all, I must remain extra vigilant. I may be down to weak tea and digestive biscuits by early December...

...they're very polite.

Gotta Love Those Figures

Trending on the last post (learn, grow, share), one of the less sexy but more interesting aspects of my work is teaming with esteemed lecturers to help explain, illustrate and educate the next generation.

But figures? What's with those? They're the stick figures of art, one step away from (shudder) tables for crying out loud! Until I met Milos and his study of epidemiology I would have agreed. Now I know in some cases it's not about the art, but what it says.

According to Wikipedia, epidemiology is "the study of health-event, health-characteristic, or health-determinant patterns in a society. It is the cornerstone method of public health research, and helps inform policy decisions and evidence-based medicine by identifying risk factors for disease and targets for preventive medicine."

As in medical diagnoses, marketing decisions for treatment can be either appropriate and inappropriate. Indeed, creative directors diagnose their clients' needs everyday.

In the above Figure 2.1, (with apologies to Milos) I finally find scientifically reasoned validation for the inclusion of the cartoon illustration in marketing materials. Woo-hoo!

The Thing About Threes

My mother, the daughter of a Nova Scotia train stationmaster, first introduced me to the fact that things happen in threes.

If two things happened, there was sure to be another. "There's the third one," I can still hear my mother say. We all knew what she meant. It was a simple rule of nature in our house, one that may or may not have to do with luck.

Luck itself (from the 1480's Low German luk) somewhat ironically has three aspects: it is either good or bad, it is by accident or chance, and it applies to a person (it's a personal thing).

We live in a 3 dimensional world. We have: the past, present and the future; up, here and down; in front, here and behind; Larry, Moe and Curly Joe and the Three Musketeers. It's only natural that things happen in threes. Processes also happen in threes. The beginning, the middle and the end of great story lines. Meeting, connecting and doing of great partnerships, and the learning, growing and sharing of great innovations.

Gotta go. Want to be early to prep for an appointment. Hope the client shows up on time. Otherwise I'll be late for my next one.

Everything's Worth Nothin' Until It's Paid For

As of the mid-2010's there were 15 million IT professionals, 9.5 million physicians and between 10 to 15 million engineers worldwide. All highly paid professionals, all with a healthy disposable income, and all known for leading generally humorless lives.

Laughter boosts the immune system, triggers the release of endorphins, improves the function of blood vessels, increases blood flow and reduces the chances of heart attacks. But professionals, especially those in the fields above, won't take the time for a snort, a guffaw or a chortle. They are humor deprived. Why? Because it uses up valuable time and it's free. Laughing is considered to be a waste of time. But what would happen if they paid for it?

You see where I'm heading here. Charge people to laugh? Ridiculous?

How many of us have been on vacation and it hasn't turned out to be the splendid time we wished it would have been but we've said to ourselves, "Hell, I've paid a lot of money for this vacation and I'm damned well going to enjoy myself!" Or imagine not paying a shrink several hundred dollars an hour to talk about our neuroses. What value would that be then? We might as well be talking to an absolute stranger about our innermost thoughts. User fees are all around us in night classes, community services and parking lots. We have pay-per-view movies, pay-per-use cell phones and pay-per-click ads. Nothing is valuable until you pay for it. And if you're paying hard-earned cash to do something you tend to find time to work it into your schedule.

By 2018, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, there will be 2,125,700 top executives just in the United States alone. All earning from hundreds of thousands of dollars to more than $1 million annually. You won't find many of them laughing, I'll bet. Unless someone were to give them the opportunity to pay for it. Picture this: soundproof, strategically situated pay-per-laugh kiosks outfitted with two things: a fun house mirror and a list of laugh-at-yourself tips on the back of the door. Brilliant, right?

If I'm not around in the coming days I'm out trying to find old pay toilets to renovate.

I'm Fine Thinking Inside My Box, Thank You

"I'll be more enthusiastic about encouraging thinking outside the box when there's evidence of any thinking going on inside it." – Terry Prachett  

I have a box. I fill it with stuff. You have one too. Sometimes I put stuff from my box into yours and sometimes you put stuff from your box into mine. I do all my best thinking in there.

If, for some reason, I'm not happy with my box and the thinking I'm doing inside of it – I'll renovate. It's my box after all. I own it free and clear. I can move my box, downsize my box, expand my box, and/or redecorate my box. Why on earth would I want to leave it in order to think, just because someone says I should?

The wise amongst us know that it's not really about the box at all. It's about what we fill it with. Hopes, dreams, wisdom, life's lessons, facts, loves, memories, worries, happy thoughts, favorite food thoughts, wishes and bad hair day thoughts. What we choose to have in our box gives us perspective. And perspective gives us maturity and independent thought. It's our unique point of view. (Even if it is wacky at times.)

So to those of you who think I should think outside my box: go away. Just go away. You don't know my box. You're so cliché.

Maybe your box could use some freshening up. Just saying.

A Miraculous Discovery

We have this machine at work. I didn't know what it was for. They don't normally let me near anything mechanical.

But yesterday when no one else was around I innocently sauntered over. The screen said "enter quantity." Liking the number three I pressed three on the keyboard. Instantly a round green button began flashing. I pressed it. Glory be, if three sheets of clean, freshly-made paper didn't appear in the tray!

A paper-making machine!

I'm thinking we must have been picked to test a prototype. This could save the rain forests of the world!

I kept the three sheets as evidence. If I can I'm going back in today to get some video.

Gotta go. The refrigerator is making ice!