I wrote this after going to a book release event for Emily Chang’s Brotopia, a book about sexism in Silicon Valley.
There’s something unusual about this evening’s tech event.
Tonight’s gathering is, to be sure, a classic San Francisco tech event. The audience is mostly professionals in their twenties and thirties, largely white, clearly educated and affluent. As I circulate through the crowd beforehand, everyone I meet works in technology. A few work in tech-related public relations, an oceanically large field in SF. This is clearly the bright young crew that codes the apps and promotes the platforms that shapes our lives.… Read the rest
I love it that the apple tart sold in the Barnes and Noble cafes is called the Rustic Apple Tart.
I also love (unfortunately) the tart itself, in a love-hate kind of way. It’s a soulless glop of industrial sugar-goo that delivers a Mike Tyson body blow of 390 calories. Deciding to ingest the thing requires an odd mix of indulgence and self-loathing.
Once consumed, it delivers the eater into a dull, narcotic fullness. Your feeling of disappointment (I just ate that?) is steamrolled by the gelatinous volume resting in your gut.
And again, the name: Rustic Apple Tart.… Read the rest
You know who I feel disdain for? I feel disdain for writer types, for instance, James Maguire, who write blog posts about themselves on their own site. Clearly, it’s a pathetic self-promotion scheme. It’s craven, it’s shameless, and honestly, it’s a blight on the Internet.
Their goal – which is tawdry – is to cram in the keyword ‘James Maguire’ in hopes of improving Google ranking for James Maguire.com. As a goal, it’s not quite world peace, is it?
So these James Maguire types sit down, clutching coffee for “inspiration,” and pen a blog post with no real content. Oh, they don’t care about readers – they stuff their miserable posts with references to themselves.… Read the rest
Stepped outside today and realized…it’s autumn. The summer drifted away with hardly a whisper.
Summer, when it’s here, seems almost stationary. For a moment around July 19 or so, time might stop altogether. September will arrive, we’re sure of it. But…later. The summer is now.
Autumn? It lasts about 37 minutes – Halloween, Thanksgiving, the holidays. The quickening pace is almost hypnotic. The cooling air suggests something is coming – autumn is about what’s up ahead, what’s on the way. Nobody stops to just “be” in the fall; the thing, the excitement, is always becoming. (But that thing is not the winter; we deny the winter.… Read the rest