So I’ve taken up golf lately. Maybe I’m shaking off my inborn liberal guilt, but I’ve really been enjoying myself, despite all the injuries and searing torso pain.
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So I’ve taken up golf lately. Maybe I’m shaking off my inborn liberal guilt, but I’ve really been enjoying myself, despite all the injuries and searing torso pain.
From Wil Wheaton: Twitter is riding the failwhale to failtown. I love Twitter, and watching it die a slow death is breaking my heart. Now that replies and tracking are down, what’s the point?
(Written in early 2005; this was the only column I ever wrote for my college newspaper.) We, as a species, have a habit of expecting that the worst thing possible is exactly what will happen, if for no other reason than it so seldom does. This preparation in the mind – to expect abject terror, …
The other day, Diana turned to me while we were both working in the office – hers, an early draft of a term paper; mine, some risk analyst thing or another about bridges and tunnels – and she said “Did you know that we don’t really remember things as they happened?”
(The proverbial oldie but goodie for starters.)