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hitmeuponmyspace · 5 years ago

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The 20 Albums That Have Had the Biggest Impact on My Life

Some time during 2016, there was a popular status on Facebook in which users would list the twenty albums that had made the biggest impact on their lives. Quite a few of my "friends" (I was notorious for adding people I didn't know on Facebook) participated in posting their 20 albums, and I did the same. At this point I was still in the habit of listening to the same albums I had liked during my high school emo phase over and over again, so I copy-and-pasted the preface (which also requested not listing more than one album per artist/band), and listed 20 of these favorite albums of mine. Meanwhile, I read other people's lists, and quickly realized that I had screwed up.

No, I didn't screw up by admitting to the world that The Silence in Black and White by Hawthorne Heights was one of my favorite albums. I screwed up because, while I had posted my "favorite" albums, mostly everyone else had followed the rules, and posted "the albums that had made the biggest impact on their lives". This became apparent as I read the comments on other people's posts, in which they answered questions and discussed the specifics of why some of the albums they listed meant so much to them. I let my status become consumed by the endless abyss of Facebook posts, but one question stayed in the back of my mind in the meantime: Could there really be that much of a difference between "favorite" and "most impactful" albums?

Four years later, the answer I've come up with to this question is "I don't know; sort of". Having now branched out into the nearly infinite and somewhat overwhelming world of music thanks to my Spotify Premium subscription, I've learned that developing a "favorite" album is easy. It starts with liking an album the first time you hear it, and then returning to it over and over and over again despite having a nearly unlimited number of other albums at your disposal. There is no limit to the number of favorite albums one can have unless one places a subconscious limit upon themselves, which I have no idea why anyone would ever want to do that.

But happening simultaneously with music discovery and enjoyment is the ups and downs of real life. Sometimes there is an album that helps you through a breakup, or the death of a loved one; or on the flip-side, there is an album that becomes your go-to in the midst of falling in love, or one you always jam in the car with your friends. While these albums will inevitably become "favorites", these are also the albums that make an impact on one's life, usually for the better (now that I think about it, I can't imagine an album having a negative impact on one's life).

With this newfound knowledge, I've decided to try the list again, but correctly this time. As an added bonus, I'll be adding a description of why each of these albums means what it means to me. I'm not going to attempt to "rank" the albums, but rather, they'll be grouped by genre. As per the original rules of the status, only one album per artist/band is allowed (sorry, Silverstein). Without further ado: The Twenty Album That Have Had the Biggest Impact on My Life…

Silverstein – Discovering the Waterfront (post-hardcore) (2005)

"Sometimes betrayal can make you happy"

I debated on whether I should talk about my favorite album of all time first or last, and I decided to list it first, since in some ways I view it as "the beginning of it all". Aside from a few albums my mom bought me when I was little (I recall Hanson and The Backstreet Boys), Silverstein's Discovering the Waterfront was one of the first albums I owned in my teenage years. After first hearing the band on the music channel Fuse, I asked for the album for Christmas in 2005 and received it. I quickly fell in love, and without any ado I turned to the internet to find as many similar bands as I could, thus sparking my love for underground music.

Discovering the Waterfront is, at the forefront, a breakup album (most of Silverstein's albums are), but it has done so much more for me than help me through breakups. The initial reason why I became obsessed with this album is because it has the two things that I now still look for in any kind of hardcore or metal album – great riffs and catchy choruses. Heaviness and catchiness are the perfect musical combination in my opinion, and even when I'm not in the midst of melodramatic relationship woes, I can put on Discovering the Waterfront at any time, and singing (and screaming) along with the lyrics, all of which I have long since memorized, has always and will always improve my mood. I'll occasionally get tired of listening to most of my favorite albums if I put them on too frequently, but Discovering the Waterfront is the one album that no matter how many times or how often I listen to it, I never get sick of it, and feel the same amount of love I did for it since the very first time I heard it.

Underoath – Define the Great Line (post-hardcore) (2006)

"Oh how I've walked this white line so many times before / What a feeble attempt just to feel alive"

Define the Great Line is my second favorite album, and I discovered it not long after discovering Discovering the Waterfront. The album contains that same combination of heavy and catchy that I learned to love, and also has a bold and eerie production style that still sends chills down my back when I listen to it at high volume. Underoath's vocalist Spencer Chamberlain, who was at the time a Christian but no longer identifies as such, penned the lyrics to the album about his struggles with his faith as well as his long history of alcohol and drug abuse. As someone who has had an off-again on-again relationship with God for his entire life, as well as having my own addictions of varying sorts, Define the Great Line is always relatable, and relevant to my life. And with one of the most hopeful and uplifting final tracks on an album that I've ever encountered, I'm always left with the feeling that I can overcome any inward or outward adversity after listening.

Protest the Hero – Kezia (progressive post-hardcore) (2005)

"Resurrected to be killed and maybe born again / I'll always be Kezia so long as any hope remains"

Kezia, my third favorite album (I promise this will be the last time I say this – I only have a top 3 favorites), is a concept album which tells the story of a young girl named Kezia, who commits an unspecified gender-related crime, and is sentenced to death. The lyrics are written from the perspective of three different characters: the prison priest, the prison guard, and Kezia herself. From each of these characters' viewpoints, the listener hears about how Kezia's crime has made a major impact on the society they live in, as well as the personal impact it has had on each character. I credit Kezia for leading me to becoming interested in social politics when I was a teenager, specifically the roles of women in society. Additionally, on the purely musical side of things, I also credit Kezia for getting me into more progressive styles of metal, as Protest the Hero's propensity to jump between time signatures was a breath of fresh air at the time of my discovering the album.

Carly Rae Jepsen – Kiss (pop) (2012)

"Drive so fast baby through the night / Drive so fast and they're never gonna find you"

Carly Rae Jepsen's Kiss is the album that I credit for getting me into pop music. Now I was never one of those metalheads who disliked pop music on principle, but on the few occasions when I had checked out a pop album after liking one or two of the singles, I would find that those singles were the only interesting songs on the album. It wasn't until listening to Kiss after being bitten by the eternal earworm that is Call Me Maybe when I learned that some pop musicians care about producing entire albums of quality songs, as opposed to just one or two singles and a bunch of throwaways. Kiss, along with Carly's followup album Emotion, are still the two best dancepop albums I've ever heard, and no matter what mood I'm in, I can always put on one or the other and be singing (and when I'm alone, dancing) along in no time.

Madonna – Ray of Light (pop) (1998)

"Quicker than a ray of light then gone for… / Someone else will be there, through the endless years"

As far as pop albums go, Madonna's Ray of Light is the most multi-dimensional expression of artistic talent that I've ever heard. Composed during a period of Madonna's life when she was fascinated with Hinduism and Yoga, Ray of Light takes musical and lyrical elements of Indian tradition and fuses them with American and European dancepop. The final product is absolutely stunning, and even though it has a relatively long runtime of an hour and six minutes, I'm always left wishing there was more because it's just so pleasant and fun to listen to. If Kiss was the album that got me into pop music, then Ray of Light was the album that made me truly excited about pop music.

Ariana Grande – Thank U, Next (pop) (2019)

"Look at you, boy, I invented you / Gucci tennis shoes, running from your issues"

Ariana Grande released Thank U, Next during a dark period in her life, as well as during a dark period of my own. I'm going to spare you, faithful reader, the details of that time period, but I want to convey that whenever I listened to Thank U, Next, or even heard a single from the album on the radio, it felt good to have a reminder that I wasn't suffering alone, and that everything would eventually be okay. Thank you, next.

Utada – This Is the One (pop) (2009)

"Who am I trying to fool? / Honey, I've got your ringtone on my Blackberry"

This Is the One, an album about grieving through heartbreak and then moving on from it, was introduced to me by a friend who, at the same time as I, had been dumped by the girl he loved. I had been dumped before, but this instance was particularly difficult to get over because it had been the longest relationship that I had ever been in. But it was This Is the One, with Utada's quirky lyrics about her messy matters of the heart, that helped me more than any other album to finally move on from that relationship.

Trivium – Ascendency (metal) (2005)

"Freezing the air that stands between all of us / Closing the eyes, bear witness to me"

I almost took Ascendency off the list because I couldn't exactly pinpoint the influence the album had on me, but at the same time I knew it wouldn't feel right for me to leave it off the list, so here it stays. Although I wouldn't say Ascendency is the album that got me into metal, it was the first non-metalcore, just straight up metal album that I ever owned. Although it's not an overtly political album, it was the first album I ever owned that had any political overtones at all, and it helped sway me to the left side of the political spectrum. Although the lyrics to the album aren't overly complicated, there were quite a few individual words I had to look up the definitions to, which helped motivate me at a young age to always actively try to increase my vocabulary. Although Ascendency isn't the greatest metal album of all time, it's one that I hold near and dear to my heart.

Novelists FR – Souvenirs (progressive metalcore) (2015)

"Can you hear me loud and clear now? / Why can't you sing along? Sing your fucking heart out"

Souvenirs is my favorite metalcore album, and I haven't been able to stop listening to it since it dropped in 2015. Despite metalcore having been one of my favorite genres since 2007, every metalcore album I listened to before this one had at least one thing I didn't like about it, whether it be a certain song, some of the lyrics, the production, etc. It was when I first heard Souvenirs, with its technical riffing, crushing breakdowns, heartfelt vocals, and glossy production that I felt that every itch I had had when it came to my longing for the perfect metalcore album had finally been scratched. With their followup album Noir which is every bit as good, I now consider Novelists FR to be my second favorite active band after Silverstein.

The Contortionist – Exoplanet (deathcore) (2010)

"Endless…motion…"

Exoplanet rules!

Nas – Illmatic (hip-hop) (1994)

"Fuck who's the baddest, a person's status depends on salary"

I first discovered Illmatic while browsing the Rolling Stone's Top 500 Greatest Albums Of All Time list. After my initial surprise that there were hip-hop albums on the list at all (the magazine had originally been created to cover rock music), I decided to check one of them out, sheerly out of curiosity. At that point in my life (I was probably 16 or 17), I had heard almost no hip-hop outside of what was on the radio and television. So because I remembered hearing of Nas before but couldn't recollect what he sounded like, and because I remembered seeing the classic album cover before at my local CD and record stores, I chose to listen to Illmatic…

…and boy, did I make the correct choice. Even upon first listen, it's clearly evident why Illmatic is considered one of the greatest, if not the greatest hip-hop album of all time. The freshly produced, New York style beats; Nas's inquisitive, street-smart lyrics and effortlessly smooth flow; and the memorable hooks are all packed neatly into this 40 minute album with absolutely no skits, gimmicks or filler. I knew that there was no going back after listening to Illmatic, and I had no other choice but to begin immersing myself into the world of hip-hop.

Kendrick Lamar – To Pimp a Butterfly (hip-hop) (2015)

"Just because you wore a different gang color than mine's / Doesn't mean I can't respect you as a black man"

If Kezia was the album that made me care about the gender side of social politics, then To Pimp a Butterfly was the album that made me care about the racial side. Loosely structured around a poem Kendrick composed about his internal and external struggles with being a black man thrusted into a position of fame and power, TPAB hits on many of the dynamics and problems that people of color still face in America today. As a little white boy, the album has opened my eyes to many racial issues that I either subconsciously turned away from, or hadn't even known about to begin with. Furthermore, Kendrick is a masterful lyricist and storyteller; and without spoiling the ending, the conclusion of TPAB is one of the most chilling moments I've ever encounted in music.

Nujabes – Modal Soul (hip-hop) (2005)

"Time can be generous but ultimately time is indifferent"

Modal Soul, the second studio album from the late Japanese DJ, composer and producer Nujabes, is perhaps one of the most easy-listening albums in all of hip-hop. While Illmatic captures the chaotic essence of New York City, Modal Soul conveys the busybody soundscapes of Tokyo, Japan. Since discovering this album, it has consistently been my go-to soundtrack for long drives on the highway at night. The album also sparked my interest in Japanese music and culture, which, as any Westerner who has gone down that route of discovery knows, runs on an entirely different wavelength than what we are accustomed to.

Richard Jacques – Sonic R Original Sountrack (soundtrack, electronic) (1998, 2014)

"You're the one that makes me feel so high, like a diamond in the sky"

After doing a Google search for "are video game soundtracks considered albums?", I decided to add the Sonic R OST to the list. Long before I had heard any of the other albums on this list, I grew up with a game called Sonic R, which is quite simply a racing game featuring characters form the Sonic the Hedghog series. I would beat the game over and over, not because I liked it (even though I did), but because I loved the soundtrack. The fast-paced, 90's-style electropop bangers, with vocals sung by Teresa Jane Davis, would be stuck in my head long after I put the controller down. Although I have fond memories of quite a few video games from my childhood along and their soundtracks, it's the Sonic R OST that I come back to most often when I need that fine dose of nostalgia.

Pink Floyd – Wish You Were Here (progressive rock) (1975)

"We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year"

The past girlfriend I mentioned in the description for This Is the One used to play this album a lot, especially when we first started dating. Although I had never had any interest in "classic rock", I was drawn to this album due to the sheer conveyance of emotion in both the lyrics and the music that it contained. Written as an ode to a former member of the band who had gone insane, Wish You Were Here still strikes me with both profound sadness and intense hope upon each listen. On the musical side, ever since falling in love with this album, I've heard Pink Floyd's influence in so many of the bands and artists that I listen to, especially those who favor more progressive styles of songwriting. I would have to think that some, if not most, of the other albums on this list wouldn't be here if it weren't for Pink Floyd, and especially this album.

Jethro Tull – Thick As a Brick (progressive rock) (1972)

"Really don't mind if you sit this one out / My words but a whisper, your deafness a shout"

It's not for any deeply personal reason that I decided to include Thick As a Brick on this list. Rather, it's because in the most objective senses of my subjective appreciation of music, I know that Thick As a Brick is at the top of the list of the most impressively composed pieces of music I've ever heard, along with Wish You Were Here and Godspeed's Slow Riot (the last album on this list). As with To Pimp a Butterfly (unlikely duo!), Thick As a Brick is structured around a narrative poem. It is performed as one, continuous, 40-minute piece of music, rife with zany folk instrumentation and erratic-yet-cohesive song structuring. But for as complex as Thick As a Brick is, I find it to be a very accessible and pleasing listen, and it's an album that I would recommend to nearly anyone.

Mount Eerie – A Crow Looked At Me (indie rock) (2017)

A definite outlier on this list, A Crow Looked At Me is an album that I've only listened to once. It is the saddest album I've ever heard, and thus far the only one that has ever made me cry. Written by Phil Elverum (the sole member of Mount Eerie) as a lament to his wife who died of pancreatic cancer, A Crow Looked At Me is infinitely beautiful but absolutely devastating. The album has haunted me since I listened to it, and it will be a very long time before I try to revisit it, if I ever do.

Against the Current – Infinity (pop-rock) (2014)

"Everywhere we go, we leave shadows from the past / We won't die young, but we'll live fast"

In contrast to the previous album on this list, Infinity is what I oftentimes consider "the happiest 16 minutes of my life". It is a compilation of five up-beat, fun and catchy pop-rock songs sung by possibly the cutest frontgirl to ever exist in music. I can put this EP on at any time and my mood will instantly be lifted. No other album (or EP!) has consistently given me those juicy hits of dopamine like Infinity has.

Panic! At the Disco – A Fever You Can't Sweat (pop-rock) (2005)

"Well she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor just for the attention / 'cause that's just ridiculously odd"

So many different times and with so many different people, I've put on A Fever You Can't Sweat Out in my car, and whoever I was driving with knew all the lyrics to the album. I'm not just talking about I Write Sins Not Tragedies either; I've sung along to every song on this album with friends, girlfriends and strangers alike (don't ask why I've had strangers in my car). A Fever You Can't Sweat Out was and will always be a phenomenon, and it has been the source of many fun times in my life.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor – Slow Riot for New Zero Kanada (post-rock) (1998)

"You think you're god because you have a robe and you can put people up the goddamn river for 20 years? Well you're not."

I am left with no choice but to conclude this list with Godspeed's magnum opus, as one feels that there should not be, or perhaps could not be, a future after Slow Riot. Structured around a recorded vox pop interview with a man named Blaise Bailey Finnegan III, this half-hour piece of ambient post-rock – with its gloomy, apocolypctic soundscapes, and its verbal protestations against the American government – makes me contemplate time and time again whether there is any hope left for Western society. Furthermore, Slow Riot, as well as the rest of Godspeed's work, has taught me that oftentimes patience is the key is to enjoying music.

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ttmaven-blog · 5 years ago

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Appendicitis

Weirdly was having some vivid flashbacks to childhood trauma last night while failing to fall asleep. I thought it might help to write down all my memories for once, and that maybe people would be interested in hearing the story.

I was 8 years old and home from school with stomach pain. My mom was taking me to Yale Health in New Haven. I hated going to that place because a couple years earlier they told me my finger was sprained when it was actually broken (switched x-rays). It wasn't the months of pain as it healed wrong that I was upset about, it was having to watch my mom yell at doctors there, it made me feel very uncomfortable. I hoped it wouldn't happen again. I hadn't eaten anything all day so my mom gave me some red grapes on the drive there. They were my favorite but I could only eat a couple. Right when I walked out of the car I vomited in the parking lot and the pain was gone immediately. I thought we should clean it up but my mom said it was fine. I also thought I didn't have to go to the appointment anymore since I felt better but she said I did.

For some reason this is the only one of the many doctor visits over the next couple days that I can still remember but I remember it well. After taking my temperature and blood pressure the doctor had me lay on my back and pushed at my stomach for a while. It hurt a lot and I said it hurt but he kept doing it. I remember staring at the cracks on the ceiling to try to dissociate from the experience. The doctor told my mom that we were in the middle of a flu epidemic (I think it was February?) and I definitely had the flu. My mom asked if it could be appendicitis. The doctor said "no he would be screaming in pain when I pressed on him if it were appendicitis." I rarely talked, and never screamed or cried, so that wasn't really on the menu.

By the time we had returned home the pain was back at full strength. I remember we took our dog Prince out in the backyard and I vomited again, but this time the vomit looked really weird, I think it was green. I remember it sitting on the brown grass, twice now I'd vomited in weird places. I again felt better. When we got back inside my mom called the doctor back and reported that I was now vomiting up bile and something was very wrong. They again told her it was the flu. I think she called my dad who was at work as well and he said she was overreacting.

At this point my memories really play tricks on me. Because for the next few years of memory time my life consisted of just trying to hold on for dear life until the next time I vomited. I remember laying on the couch in our living room just staring at the VCR clock. Every few minutes I would plead with my mom "when can I vomit again??" She knew it was about every 60 minutes so she'd tell me how many more minutes left. Sure enough just about every 60 minutes I would and feel better for 30 seconds or so before the agony returned. Hour after hour, day after day, seemingly week after week and year after year I stared at the clock and pleaded with my mom to tell me it was time to vomit again. I filled paper bag after paper bag with horrible smelling stuff but like a drug user I associated all the sensations of the vomiting with feeling better so I began to crave everything about it.

Maybe because I was so fixated on the vomit routine I really don't remember much else about the next few days. I know my mom took me to many doctors and yelled at many people but all I could think about was the clock and the next moment of release.

My detailed memories restart when the situation changed, this was likely some time after my appendix burst. After this happened I got much much sicker as the infection spread through my abdomen. I couldn't haven been happier because after my appendix burst the pain actually went away. Even better as my blood pressure plummeted I could finally relax. I hadn't slept in 3 days but something like sleep was starting to come over me. I remember being on the same couch in the living room and just feeling like I was dying. It's weird to think that a little kid could understand what that feeling would be but I was sure that was what was happening and I could not have been more welcoming to the feeling. For anyone out there afraid of dying I can tell you from my close encounter that it is a wonderful feeling so you don't have anything to worry about. I remember drifting towards death while hearing my mom on the phone in the other room. She was saying "I think he's getting better, he's finally getting some sleep". I actually tried to say "no mom I'm dying now" but I didn't have the strength to make any sound.

My next memory is being in my bed (a parent must have moved me) and there's a lot of activity in the house. I'm not sure what set things into motion but I do remember looking at my arms and seeing them look white as wite-out so maybe that was it. My mom was on the phone with 911 and she's screaming for them to come but they don't send ambulances for the flu. Someone then called for a private medical transport vehicle instead and they came for me. All this noise and I just wanted it to go away so I could die in peace. My dad carried me out to the vehicle and I had no strength to protest. I remember a bunch of the neighbors being out on their lawns watching me be put into the truck and then being hooked up to all kinds of apparatuses.

At the hospital a nurse said "I've never seen blood pressure that low." Some time later my dad told me they were flying a special doctor in from Hartford on a helicopter and it was going to take 30 minutes. It was clear at this time I not only had appendicitis but my appendix had burst a couple days before. I had had strep throat (a near monthly occurance for me as a kid, I feel like I drank as much Amoxicillin as anyone who has ever lived) the few weeks before and some strep had likely took up residence in my appendix. I spent the wait for the emergency surgeon sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair while an annoying doctor wouldn't stop talking at me. I've always thought it was weird that when I was so close to death I was just sitting there as opposed to being hooked up to some device or something but I'm sure they knew what they were doing. When it was time for surgery the anesthesiologist asked me what my favorite TV show was. I said Rescue Rangers. I said my second favorite show was Talespin.

I woke up gurney in a room with other people on gurneys. I had a nasal feeding tube, an IV, and dozens of electrodes all over my back and stomach. Some time later someone wheeled me into a hospital room without saying anything. I was kind of used to hospitals at the time because my mother's father was at a different New Haven hospital for leukemia and we had been visiting daily. He would actually be declared in remission following a bone marrow transplant a short while after I returned home. He died a few days later.

I wasn't able to do much for most of my time in the hospital. I couldn't get out of bed for days, or weeks, and couldn't use my right hand because of all the tubes coming out of it. All bathroom needs were done with a bed pan and people around and all samples were saved and maybe analyzed. Though I wasn't doing much it seemed like it always seemed like things were happening. Doctors, mean nurses, nice nurses, clowns, magicians, family, annoying kids in the bed next to me, there were always people there. I could never understand why the other kids would scream and cry so much because of their pain but sometimes my mom made me talk to them. I got almost daily letters from my best friend at the time, Lauri Fernandez, and I should probably tell her thanks at some point. I got letters from other friends as well and sometimes entire classrooms of kids who had been mean to me sent their efforts at signatures. I also accumulated a crazy amount of balloons and flowers from friends and family. This made me feel bad because the kids who cycled through the 2nd bed never had much of anything, as they only stayed for a day or two. I kept all the gifts/cards from the hospital stay under my bed through much of grade school but at some point they had to be sacrificed for baseball card space.

Coloring books were really hot at the time but I really struggled with it since I couldn't use my coloring hand. I slowly accomplished some larger pieces but it was really a chore. Another thing that was really hot at the time were snowstorms, I couldn't get enough of them. At one point there was a huge snowstorm in the forecast, I'm talking feet of snow. I was so excited I would get to watch it from my bed. When I woke up the day of the snowstorm I could see water on the window and I was immediately worried that rain was washing away all the snow we had gotten in the night. Then I was told it never snowed at all and I had never been madder. My father's parents called from Massachusetts and said they had snow up to their roof and I had never been more jealous.

Truly the biggest struggle at the time was gaining the strength to walk again. After some number of days I was required to try walking at least once each day. To incentivize me my parents would bring fish to put in the fish tank that was down the hall. I think the fish kept dying, who even knows if that tank was being taken care of. But the reward for the hour long walk down the hall was to see the new fish of the day. I hated having to drag all the equipment with me on those walks.

Having the feeding tube pulled out was an extremely weird feeling and a process that seemed to take forever. When it was finally out I hated how my left nostril (which held the tube) felt much bigger than the right and that feeling has never left. Getting the IV out of my right arm wasn't bad at all and I was happy to have the use of that side back. However I then realized I had to re-learn how to write again just as I had re-learned how to walk again.

I was the pickiest eater ever at the time and didn’t like anything the hospital had to offer. There were a couple things that were red that I would eat at home so at one point I told an exasperated nurse that I would eat anything that was red. She brought me red jello among other things that I would never eat and I said “no, not these red things.” I’ve wondered for years why I ever made that promise.

The whole time I was there I had a red button I could press that would bring a nurse with a shot of morphine. I don't really remember the pain level while at the hospital but I will never forget how great the morphine felt, I was hooked right away. My evening ritual was to call for morphine right before watching a Dumbo's Circus rerun. I actually was questioned sometimes on whether I really needed it so I said i did.

I went home in an ambulance because I was still in a pretty delicate state. I remarked to the workers that on my way in I had been strapped to all kinds of devices and now I was not even wearing a seat belt. They laughed a lot but it wasn't really a joke it was just a thing I noticed. At home I think might have been the first time I ever looked at the incision site. It was like a 6 inch Italian sandwich, all kinds of different body parts slightly spilling out of me with plenty of sauce. I had a giant bandage that had to be changed a few times a day. I never really asked what the deal was with that, why the incision site was such a mess, I always assumed it was because of the emergency nature of the situation. Little did I know the worst pain from the whole ordeal was yet to come.

The first of these pains were the taking off of the electrode stickers which still covered my body. Every night my dad would rip one off, using some kind of adhesive-dissolving substance which didn't seem to do much besides smell bad. I can still remember the smell of that stuff and how unimaginable the pain of taking those things off was. After we got one off my dad would read Berenstain Bears with me but I never forgave him for ripping them off. Why couldn't we have just waited for the skin to grow them off dad?

The worst pain of all was related to the incision site. Again I don't know why but the solution to the site not healing was to cauterize the whole area. I remember every detail of the waiting room area for those appointments because of how scared I was for them. There was nothing given to numb the pain, it was simply a hot iron pressed against the most sensitive body part I would ever have. I'm sure I'm over-estimating the number of visits it took to close the wound so I'll just be conservative and go with 100 visits. Those I did scream during. I never forgave my mom for bringing me to that place.

Despite the trials there were a couple positive results from the experience. One was that my family finally started believing me when I told them something was wrong. Previously I guess my deadpan and quiet delivery made my alarms easy to ignore. My sister complained about anything and everything so had always got the attention first. If anything afterwards the dynamic reversed and I was given more attention to my issues.

The other positive result was kind of a crazy sequence of events with respect to my education. As a 1st/2nd grader I was in special education for most everything. I think this was because kids made fun of me when I spoke in kindergarten so I decided not to speak in class anymore. I also never liked playing with kids so I had no physical skills. The whole package I guess convinced teachers I was disabled in some way. I remember we did a version of addition involving hopscotch but I couldn't jump so I didn't make any progress with it. I really did like being with the autistic(?) kids though, they never were mean. They definitely got upset easily but I could kind of understand it.

Anyway after being in the hospital so long my mom got me a tutor in an attempt to stop me from being held back. The first time we did math my tutor gave me some problems in the book to do while she went to the bathroom. By the time she got back I had finished everything and had started on the next chapter. She reported to my mom that my mom was way off on my ability and then we moved really fast after that. I do remember though one time with her my bandage fell off and the wound started seeping through my clothing but I was too afraid to stop the lesson so I didn't say anything. I told my mom afterwards and she told the tutor right away. I felt even worse when the tutor asked why I didn't tell her when she had told me to tell her if that very thing happened.

When I returned to school I was put in the normal classes, which were amazing to me because of how big they were, I was used to being with 2 or 3 other students only. My first day in math class we had a quiz that I finished way before anyone else. I looked around the room really confused how everyone was so slow. I remember Sarah Pohlman (sp?) finished next, long before the 3rd person. I thought it was cool we had something in common and we were close friends for a while. A couple years later they had me do some puzzles and I did them fast enough to get put in the gifted program, on my way to a happy life of hard work and carpal tunnel.

At a much later date I told my mom that a friend (Marc Saddig) had a lot of cool toys at his house. My mom told me they were rich because a truck hit them on the highway and they sued the truck company. I asked my mom why we didn't sue Yale over my misdiagnosis and she said we weren't that kind of family.

TL;DR I almost died and every day since has been a blessed gift from sweet baby jesus in the manger.

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inactivedaddymemeyard · 7 years ago

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Issues

Mutants!au where everyone is bad ass, but was too scared and too unexperienced to save themselves from their childhood traumas. Wymack runs a boarding school for mutants trying to hide from society and from war. (So no, not X-Men actively not X-Men) The ravens aren't a different team they are a weird group of bullies at a different branch school (they still act the same as canon) This story is on a semi-permanent hiatus.

Ao3: here

Time had started to blur. Each hour that brought him further from the west coast had started to blend together. The last vivid memory he had was pulling off the road in a small town outside of Ferndale, California and doing what needed to be done with the cold, moon kissed sand biting into his hands. Trying to recall the hike back up to Fortuna, the closest city on an interstate, gave him a head ache and made him frustrated at himself for being careless and not paying attention. He remembered the trucker in his fifties who welcomed a companion to Hayward, even if that companion was a withdrawn fifteen year old who could’ve been running from the law. He knew the walk from Hayward to Livermore had taken him almost a full day instead of the six it should have because of his legs being unable to carry him that long when he was so full of grief and hunger. He’d manage to find some kind of ride from Livermore to Lost Hills, but he didn’t remember who had helped him or what they drove. That was the beginning of his memory truly failing. He had no idea how he managed to find another ride to take him the last half of the trip on I-40 or why they had dropped him in Bagdad, Arizona.

Yet, here he was a few hours outside Bagdad at a small run down town named Millport. He’d been here for a year and had somehow managed to squat in abandoned and for sale houses with minimum suspicion. He’d turned seventeen shortly after arriving, two weeks after that cold beach that he still sometimes felt under his fingernails. He’d spent his birthday sitting in the basement of a half collapsed ancient house kicking away rats before they could eat his dinner. Not that he’d cared that much about it. Birthdays meant nothing to someone who was nothing.

Sometimes he let himself wish for another life, a better life, but he always shook it off and continued his useless existence because that was all he knew how to do. He had let the feeling hold too long in Canada, she had even started to think it he saw it in her eyes when they watched the people around them. That urge to be more. He had an outlet for that emotion, something that made him feel real, but she didn’t and he saw the way everything was dragging on her. Neil Josten sat up jerkily and shook the thoughts of her out of his head even as he inhaled the smoke around his head a little bit more aggressively.

He was fine. No one knew what he could do.

He was fine. No one knew he had no parents.

He was fine. No one knew where he was.

He began whispering “I’m fine” over and over again as he let the smoke curl around his head. He didn’t particularly like doing this, but he knew when to pull himself back to the present. He did it every time that odd, heavy blanket started to smother him. He much preferred when the empty shell covered his mind; he hated the heavy weight of whatever it was muffled everything till all he wanted to do was lay down and never move again.

Neil was startled by the screeching of the school’s front door, but quickly controlled his expression as his physical education teacher Mr. Hernandez stepped outside. Neil instantly was on guard, Mr. Hernandez was one of the few teachers that asked about Neil’s home life and Neil knew he’d lied one too many times for Hernandez to fully believe him.

“I didn’t see your parent’s at parent/teacher conferences tonight.” Mr. Hernandez said.

“They’re out of town.” Neil lied.

“Still or again?”

Neil knew he couldn’t keep spitting lies at this obviously well-meaning man, but he didn’t have an alternative.

“I thought they would be here for this. It’s your senior year and this is the last semester that matters to colleges.” Hernandez sighed.

Neil wasn’t going to college. Neil probably wouldn’t make it another year on his own. He’d lucked out with Millport and though he hated to admit it he was lucky he hadn’t made the decision to come here or he’d already be dead.

“They haven’t missed much. I’ll call them later to tell them my grades.” Neil once again lied.

“Not yet, maybe. There’s someone here to see you.” Mr. Hernandez sighed, but there was a weird lilt of hope in his voice.

To someone who had spent their whole life running those words were a death sentence. Neil snatched his duffel from the bench beside him and turned to run when he felt rather than heard the second person approach the school entrance and Mr. Hernandez. That was not the power signature of anyone who he was running from and it definitely wasn’t a strong enough signature to be a danger to him. So Neil played it as casual as he could after making it very obvious he was about to bolt and turned to face a huge middle aged man with a sleeve full tribal tattoos twisting up his arms.

Empath

The word floated through his mind in a gruff male voice the instant he looked at the small pulsing aura surrounding the man. If he was an Empath, even a weak one Neil needed to get his shit under control immediately. In the blink of an eye Neil had banished his panic and was staring apathetically at the men in front of him. The Empath blink at him in surprise before stepping forward to introduce himself at David Wymack the founder of Second Chances the boarding school for trouble mutants where they didn’t have to fight or hide. Neil knew what Second Chances was because he had dreamed of its safe walls for most of his life, but his mother was right when she’d kept him away from it. He was too dangerous and too much of a liability to safely hide there.

“I’m not a mutant.” The lie slipped from his mouth with no emotion and hopefully could only be taken as truth.

“I saw you run.” Hernandez corrected.

“I wasn’t running faster than anyone else in gym.” Neil replied, still keeping his emotions locked away just in case Wymack was paying attention to his aura instead of his words.

“And after they left and I saw you run as fast as I can, if not faster.” Hernandez grinned, which confused Neil.

“Kevin goes there.” Neil resigned looking back at Wymack, who had silently watched him while he lied and lied.

“And we all want you to come stay with us. Kevin was the one who made the final decision to come get you.” Wymack supplied.

And Neil did what he does best, he ran.

Goodbye Neil.

Goodbye Millport.

Goodbye Arizona.

Neil was going to run as far and as fast as he could, which was far and fast with Hernandez’s power fueling his speed he could be out of the state quickly.

He thought he’d made his escape until a shadow reached out and ripped his ankle out from underneath him. He hit the grass hard and was blinded for a few seconds as he flipped onto his back to see who had attacked him.

“Jesus Christ Andrew. I told you not to fuck with him!” Wymack’s angry voice boomed.

Neil flinched. The blonde standing above him smiled viciously.

“I didn’t break him, boss! Put a bind aid on him and he’ll be just fine!” the deep voice coming from that horrible smile sang the last half of his sentence.

Darkforce User

Came the same voice, though oddly calm and empty sounding, in Neil’s mind as he finally focused on the huge aura surrounding the small man. Unlike Wymack’s aura Andrew’s was twitching as if restrained and it had the blurry edges of a drug using mutant’s.

He’s interesting.

He’s powerful.

He’s dangerous.

He might be interesting to Neil but he also was infuriating and the reason he was far far away from this man who in the darkness they were now in looked like his father. Neil did something impulsive and stupid but he couldn’t stop himself. Wymack grunted in surprise as Neil loosed his emotions and he could finally see the uncontrollable fury that was fueling his newest mistake.

Suddenly the shadows around Andrew solidified and wrapped around both of his ankles. He was hoisted into the air upside down, though instead of being scared or mad he was laughing a horrible manic laugh that echoed.

“Well, it seems you’re hiding something Neil Josten.” Came a voice he only heard in his dreams.

Neil turned and looked at Kevin Day, who had been sitting in the tree above them.

Telekinesis

Kevin’s cool voice in his mind was almost as jarring as seeing him and seeing how much brighter his aura had grown since they were kids. Neil dropped Andrew with a resounding thud and bolted. He used Kevin’s power to snatch his duffle from where it’d fallen, used Hernandez’s power to run faster than they could keep up with even in a car, and used Andrew’s power to conceal himself in shadows.

Unfortunately when he got more than five miles away he lost his hold on their powers and had to walk to the nearest open house to collapse. He hadn’t held so many powers at once in a long time and it had made him so weak he was close to collapsing. He fell onto the destroyed couch that would be his bed for the night and pulled his duffle close to his chest. That was when he finally noticed Kevin must had used his power to slip a plan ticket into his duffle when Neil was distracted by Andrew.

Next Chapter

#aftg #tfc #kandreil #fanfiction #allforthegamenetwork #kyla writes

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mikemortgage · 6 years ago

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Red Dead Redemption 2 review: An immersive and sympathetic tale of American outlaw life

Score: 9.5/10 Platform: PlayStation 4 (reviewed), Xbox One Developer: Rockstar Studios Publisher: Rockstar Games Release Date: October 16, 2018 ESRB: M

Red Dead Redemption 2 defies easy categorization.

Rockstar Games’ ravenously anticipated follow-up to its beloved 2010 western opera is, on the surface, an open world adventure in which players are free to explore a rambling, magnificently drawn map of several fictional U.S. states, getting up to whatever high jinks they can, from robbing stage coaches to hunting wild game.

It’s also undeniably a shooter — from your choice of a first- or third-person perspective — complete with an array of pistols, revolvers, shotguns, and rifles; a “dead-eye” slow-motion effect that helps ensure you’re the most lethal gunslinger in the west; and even quick-draw duels.

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Another label I’d not hesitate to apply is “simulation,” as it strives for — and brilliantly achieves — a period perfect atmosphere that goes far beyond its loving depiction of homesteads and horses to include minute details, such as era-specific tradespeople going about their busy lives, time spent performing camp chores such as hauling hay bales and fetching water, and hotel baths in which it takes a minute or more of player interactions to scrub off a week’s buildup of cowboy grime.

But if I had to settle on just one descriptor, it would be interactive story. During its marathon production — which lasted some seven years — Rockstar produced 300,000 unique animations, recorded half a million lines of dialogue, and employed a shocking 1,200 voice and motion capture actors. The result is an emotional, immersive and sympathetic tale of American outlaw life in 1899, the very final days of the Wild West.

The tale follows Arthur Morgan, one of the main members of a nomadic gang — the same one to which John Marsten, protagonist of the original Red Dead Redemption, once belonged — that is caught between growing civilization in the west and the established society of the east. He’s a hard and uneducated man of action with a gravelly mumble voice reminiscent of Jeff Bridges’ in True Grit, but he’s also surprisingly pensive. He knows his way of life is fast coming to an end, and he’s troubled by his bloody deeds, often confiding his guilt to the women of the gang’s camp, who worry about Arthur but refuse to absolve him of his sins.

His primary rationale for all he’s done is his mentor of the last 20 years, Dutch van der Linde, a gentleman bandit whose Robin Hood-esque philosophizing helped attract a band of loyal and strangely kind-hearted thugs who somehow manage to justify their often wicked ways by thieving from those who can afford it and helping those who can’t help themselves. But times have been tough, and Dutch has become desperate, forced to recruit less honourable henchmen, work with shadier associates, and take on riskier jobs for reasons less noble than he’d like.

This ragtag group of men and women is Arthur’s family, and after spending scores of hours with them — I feel like I binge-watched half a dozen seasons of Deadwood over the last week — I almost came to think of them as my family as well. There are siblings both wild and reliable, aunts and uncles set in their ways, and a grandfather figure who provides a level-headed contrast to some of Dutch’s riskier undertakings. You’ll love some and hate others, but when things go sideways — as they almost inevitably do — they’re all in it together and have each others’ backs.

It’s Arthur, however, who proves the most interesting. The game is a fascinating study of a conflicted man who knows right from wrong, but doesn’t always allow this knowledge to inform his decisions. His common sense and decency manifests in all sorts of ways, from his steadfast refusal to buy into the racism of the time to his support of women, both in roles traditionally reserved for men and in their quest for the right to vote. And yet he’ll kill — albeit often with hesitation and regret — almost anyone who gets in his way during a job. As the game progresses this duality grows and at points almost tears him apart. He’s a classic antihero: A bad man seemingly headed for tragedy who we nonetheless like, root for, and want to see make better choices.

But it’s not all dark. A healthy dose of Rockstar’s signature adult humour is injected into the proceedings, often by way of side stories. Quests involving colourful characters — like an inventor working on a means of execution more humane than the noose, or a writer chronicling the exploits of an aging duellist — provide plenty of comic relief, sometimes with a bit of over-the-top gore or a hint of cultural commentary easy to connect to current events. From start to finish, whether intended to make us laugh, ponder, or cry, the writing never falters.

The upshot of all of this storytelling is that, unlike the vast majority of open world games, there is extraordinarily little repetition. Every mission and virtually every chance encounter is scripted and purposeful, designed to develop characters, progress the story, or better familiarize us with the game’s sophisticated controls and systems. I never felt like I was doing the same thing twice. There’s no grinding, no endlessly repeated tasks included simply to lengthen the experience. Even tasks that occasionally do repeat — helping a man thrown from a horse on the road, or a woman attacked by marauders — are accompanied by original dialogue that gives them each a flavour and distinct memory of their own. Thought and reason has been put into everything we do, and it helps the hours fly by. There’s neither a chance nor a reason to grow bored.

Supporting and enhancing everything is astounding attention to detail, which can be both a blessing and a curse — though far more often the former.

This is a game that knows it has interesting things to show us, and it won’t take no for an answer. Some weapons need to be cocked or have rounds chambered between shots, and all of them have to be regularly polished with gun oil — actions that the player must both perform and watch play out. Hunted game needs to be retrieved, skinned (a disgusting but oddly satisfying animation), and properly stowed on your horse rather than simply scooped up while walking past. Fast travel is available, but not readily, forcing us to spend long minutes simply galloping along (though an optional cinematic camera angle can make these journeys through gorgeously rendered landscapes beautiful to just sit back and watch). Store catalogues are so thorough that they’re essentially replica books from the era, which can turn a quick trip into a shop to pick up some canned beans or horse tonic into a 15-minute odyssey as you get lost reading mesmerizing ads and product descriptions.

Not surprisingly, these meticulous interactions demand an equally complex control scheme, meaning that various buttons on the gamepad are used in different ways, depending on context. And there have been many times when I meant to do one thing but accidentally did another — potentially robbing or shooting some innocent — because I’d forgotten the function of a button had changed according to the circumstances. Thankfully, controls are typically shown in the bottom right corner of the display, and as I became more careful and accustomed to how everything worked my mistakes grew more infrequent.

And in the end, these are minor complaints of excess — the sort of problem most games would welcome. They hardly take away from the overall experience, which delivers one of the most ambitious and finely directed stories ever told in the medium of games, one populated with a huge cast of memorable characters and filled with compelling ruminations on eternal human questions to do with family, loyalty, morality and mortality.

Red Dead Redemption 2 is the must-play of the year, and elegant proof that grand-scale single-player games are far from obsolete.

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davidamosley · 6 years ago

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The Art of Instagram Etiquette

"I'm so happy I found your account! I see your work all over the place, but I never knew who made it!"

This was a comment I received on Instagram last week, and it's not the first of its kind. Last week I hit the 100,000 follower mark on Instagram, which, silly as it sounds, was a big deal to me. I know I'm supposed to act like I don't care about followers and these numbers don't matter, but when you're a brand — when you work hard to put up content almost daily and the number of people you reach correlates to your ability to actually afford groceries and rent — these numbers do matter. It was a really exciting milestone for me, but its brought to the surface some really mixed feelings I have about Instagram.

I love Instagram, obviously, and I want the platform to continue to thrive, but there are some major downsides for creators. Creators post on there, driving traffic to the app, but, unlike a platform like YouTube, creators aren't compensated for all of the work they do to bring people to the app. That's a big scale problem, and one that I don't have the capacity to directly address, but there's also the sharing (and, all too often, stealing) issue, which is what I want to talk about here.

Before I get into it, I have to admit that writing about this is difficult for me, because I feel the following:

Worried that I'll sound ungrateful for my audience

Silly for being angry about something like Instagram

Embarrassed that my ego is possessive of my work

Annoyed that I have to care about "credit" as a creator

But, as uncomfortable as I feel writing this, it's something I've been wanting to talk about for a long time. See, over the past few years, things have changed a lot in terms of Positively Present's content and audience. Part of this has been my personal growth, my desire to create and share art in addition to writing, and part of it is a shift in the way people consume content online. I used to just write (and occasionally create images or illustrations) here on the site. They would get shared, yes, but typically with a link to the site so it was a give-and-take situation: someone would take my work and share it and, in return, I would be given the opportunity to reach new people. But, with Instagram, all of that's different now. It's a lot more take than give. Because Instagram doesn't make it easy to share links (particularly if you don't have a large account) or credit creators, it's up to individuals to give credit, and many people don't know how (or even that they should).

I've shared guidelines before (the number of times a day I have to write "Check the FAQ story highlights for details on sharing!" is mind-boggling), but I thought I'd write them out again here. Keep reading for more on why these guidelines are so important for creators ('cause it's about way more than wanting more followers!).

PERSONAL ACCOUNT GUIDELINES

Creators love when personal accounts share their work because we're getting a real, positive promotion from someone who genuinely likes our work and wants to share it with family and friends. Unfortunately, because the everyday Instagram user often isn't familiar with Instagram etiquette, they often don't know to credit properly. Here's the deal:

Always mention the creator in the first two lines of the caption.

Always tag the creator in the image itself.

Never filter, crop, or edit the image (doing so is changing the work without permission).

Never share a bunch of one creator's photos in a row (it's just rude. and weird.).

Consider purchasing something from a creator, particularly if you share the work frequently.

Stop following freebooting accounts (see below) and follow creators instead.

BRAND ACCOUNT GUIDELINES Ideally, brands should be paying creators to make content for them — particularly the large brands — but since this isn't how things seem to work for the most part, at the very least, brands should do the following:

Always ask permission before sharing. Large brands that have shared my work, magazines like Shape, Glamour, and Teen Vogue, do this. Smaller brands frequently do not, and it's problematic because no creator wants their work connected to a cause / product / celebrity they don't support.

Always mention the creator in the first two lines of the caption. This is especially important for brands to do because, if you're getting content for free, the very least you can do is drive some traffic to the creator's account.

Always tag the creator in the image itself.

Never filter, crop, or edit the image (doing so is changing the work without a creator's permission).

Never share a bunch of one creator's photos in a row (it's just rude. and weird.).

Never imply the creator is a partner of or affiliated with the brand (unless a paid partnership is in place).

Never use an image to promote a sale, promotion, event, or other business-related content.

Hire the creators you really like to create custom work for you. It's way cooler than just reposting!

FREEBOOTING ACCOUNT GUIDELINES

Freebooting accounts are Instagram accounts (like this and this) that do not create any of their own content, but instead share only other people's content to grow their own page. I'm not fully aware of the purpose of this and, in many cases, I don't believe it's malicious, but it's still harmful to creators and particularly unfair when these freebooting accounts grow very large and receive compensation in the form of sponsorships, ads, and other partnerships — all while creating no work of their own.

Never share creators' work unless you're going to create work of your own.

If you want to curate things, hop over to Pinterest. That's what it's for.

Why are you doing this? What are you getting out of it? Likes? Stop it.

Just cut it out.

No.

Stop.

Seriously. Why?

So, why these guidelines? Why not just share my work and not worry about the credit? (A creator I love specifically says that anyone can share her work without credit and, as much as I love the idea of that — so selfless! so altruistic! — it plays all too well into the age-old tale of the starving artist, the notion that, in order to be creative, one doesn't actually make a living off one's work.) In reality, credit — as silly as it sounds — is a huge deal for creators.

As far as I can tell, there's never been a period of time in history where creators' works were just taken and used whenever and wherever. If, back in the day, you owned an art shop, you couldn't just take a painter's work and then sell it as your own without physically stealing the paintings. Now, it's just a few taps on your phone, and you can take creative content and share it. For free. All the sharing is wonderful in that in can, if an image is credited properly, drive traffic to a creator's account.

But, most of the time, creators' work isn't credited properly (or at all). I personally struggle with this a great deal. On one hand, I want to be open and carefree and think, I'm just generous creator and I'm happy to have my work shared and appreciated, even if I don't receive any appreciation or compensation for it. But another part of me can't seem to shake the notion that this work is mine. It whispers to me, You worked so hard on this. Why shouldn't you receive credit or, god forbid, compensation for what you've done?

I don't want to feel the "mine-ness" of my work, but I do. Every time I see my work shared without credit, it feels like a sharp sting, a pinprick in my heart. Every time I see my work with the signature removed — someone's deliberate attempt to claim it as their own — it feels like I've been shoved to the ground, wind knocked out of me.

This feeling of ownership is a strange mix of selfishness (That's mine!, my mind squeals like a toddler when her toy has been snatched away) and selflessness (Hey! When you just share others' work, you're really missing out on the joy of creating it yourself!, my mind also exclaims.) It sounds silly to say, but I almost feel guilty, being part of this culture that encourages people to look and share rather than make and create. Sometimes it feels like I'm spinning around on a giant dance floor — not the best dancer in the world, but having a damn good time — with all of these people standing on the sidelines saying, "Wow! I love your dance moves! That looks fun!" and I want to yell, If you like it, get out here! Try it. Make something!

It makes me wonder: Why are creators giving so much away for free? (Answer: Because they have to in order to gain followers and be considered "successful" enough to be worthy of brand deals, ads, book contracts, etc.) What kinds of creativity are we losing by staring at screens filled with things other people have made instead of making things ourselves? (Answer: Unknown, but probably a lot of cool stuff!) Maybe we'd be better off if people put down their phones and picked up a pencil or a paintbrush. Perhaps this makes me sound ungrateful and petulant, but I'm constantly conflicted by the desire to make work that is appreciated and the desire to work alone quietly, undetected. And, as strange as it might sound if you're not in the same position, it's actually really stressful to be torn between these two things.

You might be thinking at this point: If you're so bothered by this, why don't you just not share it? Or just post it on your website? There are two main reasons I continue to share my work on Instagram (and other social media platforms): (1) It's one of the best ways to grow an audience and, therefore, make enough money to (barely...) be able to afford food, and (2) I genuinely enjoy it and want to help people. Have you ever heard that old saying, What would you do all day if you didn't have to worry about money? Well, I'm doing it. I love writing and drawing and creating and sharing and helping other people with simple things that speak to them. I really do. I don't really care about getting credit — yes, there's a part of me that thinks "mine!" but most of me really just wants to make things, even if no one sees them — but I do care about making a living and, like it or not, getting credit indirectly leads to getting paid.

With this post, it’s not my intention to sound whiny or thankless — particularly amidst the joy of reaching a big Instagram milestone! 100k! Hooray!! — but, as much as social media feels like a frivolous time-waster, for a lot of creators — including me! — it’s really not. It matters. It's how we find work, sell products, build brands that will attract publishing houses or product distributors or whoever else can help us to grow our businesses. And, remember: the more a creator succeeds, the more content you'll likely get.

Mostly, I just wanted to get all of this out of my mind and into words. It's a weird and wonderful time to be a creative, and I'm incredibly grateful for all of the appreciation and opportunities that have come my way as a result of Instagram (and social media in general), but I think it's important for people who aren't creators — those who are consuming the content — to think about the other side to all of this free art. Creators are real people, people who work really hard to make things, and if you like what they do, you should support them — at the very least, by crediting their work, but, if you can, by actually paying for their work.

If you can, buy something from a creator you follow this week. Pick up an art print. Buy a book. Or, if that's not an option, try creating something yourself. Above all, that's what I'd really love to see: more people creating, fewer people consuming. (Stay tuned for more on this soon!)

I obviously had a lot to say on this subject, but I'd love to hear from you, too! Are you a creator? What is your experience with Instagram / sharing / social media? If you're not a creator, do you think about this? What are your thoughts now? Let me know in the comments section below!

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saiqianxi-blog · 7 years ago

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Waste paper

QianXiSai Make money Diary（How to make money）

ther called me to ride.

I know that I must drink...

He usually rides a road bike. He has a cruising speed of around 25, which is also a very good result. I ride a speeding car to the hospital to pick him up. I can only ride a speeding car so slowly.

He did not wear a cycling suit, shirt or trousers.

See him so handsome for the first time.

I asked, seeing a doctor?

He nodded.

We rode to Linyi University and then to the East Ring Road. It was equal to one circle around the county town. It was exactly 25 kilometers. He went home to bathe and change clothes. I went to the hotel.

Find a fly shop.

He raised two bottles of wine, EFFECT wine.

I see, rely on, you also have such a stylish little wine Yeah, this wine was originally a positive competition for Jiang Xiaobai, do not know what the reason did not open, wine bottle fashion, just a bit semi-oceanic, like what? Tengger suddenly sang English songs.

I asked, the patient sent?

He said that no one would dare to send wine now, that is, relatives and friends must send a box of milk to the office to make criticisms and write checks.

I said that it is a good thing. We don't accept gifts only for red packets.

He said that this wine was brought back for the son's New Year and took a box. I drank well and brought you a taste.

I said, Grandpa drink a bottle and the rest of the bottle I take home.

He said, OK.

The advantage of eating at a fly shop is that we can personally request the chef. For example, we like to eat braised rabbit heads here. We prefer not to eat it like this.

We require that the rabbits should be stewed with fresh water, like mutton soup, with tender meat, and braised. Rabbit head? Only taste of sauce, in addition I do not like to eat salt, and local dishes are generally salty.

We only ordered this dish, half-jokingly to let the boss send a green vegetables, the boss also made a joke, fried vegetables can barely cover the bottom of the dish, really ......

I went to the stall and bought a pig's head.

Open drink.

I asked, did you have a physical examination this year?

He said that he had done a minimally invasive surgery a year ago. He was a bit polyped. He had just had a physical examination this morning and the incident was gone.

I said that it was to celebrate.

Come, cheers.

He is cancer. I always value him like this: Linyi City's most optimistic person.

Maybe he was dealing with the tumor all day. He didn't care about these things. I didn't stop him. He might have to drink a pound of white wine. The key is that he often does. He should eat, drink, smoke, and drink. .

Half a catty wine isn’t even a big deal for both of us. Since I was mixed with professor ballmates from Linyi University, my drink volume has skyrocketed.

Their standard is 1 bottle of beer per capita, and the key is I didn't even vomit at once. The next morning was full of blood and I admired myself.

Light meat is also boring.

I said, you are waiting here, I'll buy something delicious.

He said, get root cucumber.

I said that cucumbers do not have to be bought, and the kitchen is there.

I went out for a walk and bought two garlic. Fresh, we were alone. The southerners could not understand the Shandong people. The Shandong people had to eat raw onions and garlic. We both ate a clove of garlic. , And later let the boss fry peanuts, the owner of these fly shops are very personal, and we deal with these ballmates every day, but also get used to our embarrassment, with us is also a joke with each other, will sit when not busy Drink two cups.

How much is our daily consumption? Seven or eight ball players eat dinner, not wine, food less than 200 yuan.

Chatting.

He said that Xiao Dong, I will give you a suggestion.

I said, man, you say. (Lords are the honorific names of male elders. They may be fathers or grandfathers)

He said, "I don't want anyone to play. I think you're playing too messy now. It's too much. Looking for material is an excuse, but you have to be different."

I said, I have realized it myself.

He said that lowering your grade will also bring unnecessary trouble to you. You must set up an interpersonal firewall.

I said, understand.

He said that wine is only for drinking with friends. It is not impossible for anyone to drink. It is not impossible for them to become addicted to drugs. Do you know that they have drugs?

I said, knowing that drug abuse is very common now, including many drug users in rural areas. Sometimes it is embarrassing to refuse. The difference between golfers and riders is actually very positive, and the social level is relatively even. In the main, the ball-friends are polarized. One is of a particularly high level.

The other is of a particularly low level. Cycling belongs to pure fitness, while the "ball" belongs to the entertainment series. Then some people use it as a life pastime and may live very much. Lost, for example, there are entrepreneurs playing basketball, there are also small fry, so is badminton.

He said he was afraid that they would treat you as a goal.

I said, I know, many of them think I'm too showy. Actually I didn't mean to show anything. I don't have a car every day from Monday to Sunday. I just want the car to move every week. It's like someone changes clothes every day, but it doesn't mean to sting someone else.

Others will write me a story saying that I'm doing MLM, and some people say that I'm doing lending, what versions are there, I'm lazy to clarify Now, when someone asks me occasionally at the wine table, I say, “I’ll be an official and they will not continue to ask questions.”

He said: Can you not ride a small magnolia afterwards?

I said, too.

He said that I still recommend that you return to cycling. The time of riding is actually a process of meditation for one person. Your attention is highly concentrated, you don't want to think anything, you think about everything, and you can release your emotions every day.

I said, but boring, badminton is more fun.

He said that the meniscus is non-renewable, and badminton is the sport that hurt the body most.

I said, I haven't felt it yet. They have painful knees, I don’t. I have good leg muscles, and I’m still killing every day. I’m still living.

He said that you are young and you know how old you are. You can't get upstairs afterwards.

I said that when the weather is warmer, I'll ride with you. I really like it. Two or three people, carefully and hard-heartedly talking, talking to each other in a serious way, number of people, all nonsense, not a serious one. words.

He said, then you still participate.

I said that people called me and how can I refuse it.

He said that the mature performance is to learn to say no.

I said, I understand.

He said that at that time, you might as well read the book.

I said that I do not read much now and I do not have time to read.

He asked, Did you read all the books in your office?

I said no.

He said, I think when you introduce someone else, you seem to have read it.

I said yes, I can cover most of the literary enthusiasts, including writers, because often there are writers to our side, they are also quite shocking, because they may not have such a rich author network, too many resources Famous artists have left imprints on me, including Jia Pingwa, Mo Yan, and Chen Zhongshi.

I literally touched out a book. I'm just talking about it. Actually, I just read the story briefly, and I read the book review. I let my colleagues Help me to read, read and do the excerpts and story descriptions. When they read it, it means that I read it because I read the sentence well and I know the whole book.

He said that this is also a good way to read.

I said that I think it is a perfect way to learn.

He said, I think you put the "Bailuyuan" in the most important position. What do you personally think about this book?

I said, I can't write it. I think that with the "Abolished Capital," it will be written in the history of modern literature.

He asked, will you play when you read a book?

I said, Yes, actually, just like the artists went to see the exhibition. They can all see the flaws we can't see. I write more articles every day than many writers, and naturally I can also see some literary works. There are also flaws in the perfect literary works.

Because the writer is also a person, there are limitations to the person. For example, Zhao Defa cannot drive a car. When he describes some local tyrants, he also writes models.

Then I can see loopholes because This is my specialty. I think the biggest flaw in Mr. Bailuyuan is Mr. Zhu, but in the book review, Mr. Zhu is generally praised. For example, someone said: Miss Zhu, Renyi Bailu had no soul.

He asked, Why did you think that Mr. Zhu was embarrassed?

I said that because he was perfect, he was not a human being, and that people should be multi-faceted and three-dimensional. The more they were shaped and the more empty they were, the whole person was too fake. Mr. Zhu was the most in the entire “White Deer Valley”.

The fake image is the same as the archway at the entrance of Linyi University.

He said, I see you excited when you talk about books.

I said yes, but I don't like reading, I just like to talk about it. This is where I struggle. I don't think I'm a qualified bookstore owner because it's not my hobby but my business.

Man, I told you, in fact, I was very guilty of doing signature books.

He asked why guilty?

I said that Chinese writers are at least half crippled. Even if they are Maochi, at least half of the works should be used to burn fire, that is, waste paper, but you also know that China’s awards are Kung Fu’s awards.

The award does not mean that it can be included in the history of Chinese literature because it will be marginalized and even unmentioned.

He asked, do you think it is better than you wrote?

I said, I really think so.

He asked if there are any readers who feel that the articles you wrote in the past two years are not as good as before?

I said, Yes, my high school teacher said so. She said that I like the articles I wrote in previous years. The essay is good. The current article is not that kind of radiant feeling. In fact, this is a change from light to light.

If you are heavy, have you not found that I do not like to write about tall things now? All I wrote was very small and small things. Even if you didn't see it at a glance, it seemed as if it was boring, but it was very deep and carefully crafted. It was actually a process of screening readers. It was like everyone likes it.

It is a truth to see that I write travel notes. Wow, I think I have opened my eyes. I think the travels I wrote are mentally retarded. Because there is no technical content, it's great wisdom to simply spend a good time, and I look at the lively and lively atmosphere of the day. Not the normal state of life.

He said, don't ask for it later, but ask others to find a good friend in the ball, yelling to have a meal alone and talk about it. It makes more sense.

I said, I understand, but everyone likes to shout a few more and lively.

He said, no, in fact, all like it alone.

Drink enough to send him home, the wine was also sent back, he insisted that I hold.

I said, what to take, Dong wine is my home, be my delivery.

He stays.

Go home, two steps away, do not want to move, hit a drop.

Back home.

Received a message: Teacher Dong, met you at the hospital's door just now.

I asked, did you not say hello to me?

She said, embarrassed.

I said, I will say hello after seeing it. It's okay.

She said, see you waiting for the car on the roadside, thinking that someone will pick you up.

I said yes, the driver.

She is also a customer of our bookstore. I belong to a more snobbish company. Non-clients are basically not involved. We live in the same community. She said that I often met me in an underground parking lot, but she didn’t call a greeting.

She bought a book to let me put it. where?

In my truck's bucket, she took it for herself.

Like the underground party connector?

Never met.

The ball friend A has posted a recruitment message. The ball friend B wants to apply for the match. It happens that the ball friend B plays in my office. It means let me ask.

My intuition is a bit difficult, but there is also hope.

Where is the difficulty?

The ball friend B's stall is relatively large, has its own store, and is still in a place of security. Although it does not make money, it is busy all day long.

For a boss, this type of employee is not like because the six are not clean.

I try to wash brain buddies B every day. I suggest he quit his job as a security guard. Although the work is very easy, he will only work for two hours each morning and evening. But after all, his title is not good. So young, so recognized?

It was the work of retired soldiers who set aside 1400 yuan per month. He saw old-age insurance and the like. He calculated himself to be 3,000 yuan. He was very pleased.

I think I'll hypnotize myself and recognize.

His store is no use, basically no business, but did not declare failure.

Therefore, if he wants to find a job, it is best not to affect the security business, or to be a multi-faceted model.

But what do the boss think?

When I recruit you, you need to devote all your heart to your heart. You can't be busy and busy.

In fact, I very much feel bad for him. I always feel that he is not suitable for playing, because playing him has been abolished. He will continue to participate in various types of golfers' gatherings, drinking and chatting and dumping himself into it.

As if the high friends were full, no one really valued him.

After a long time, he has hypnotized himself. On the one hand, he feels that he can do everything. On the other hand, he can't do anything. It creates a sense of embarrassment. When he spends a lot of time, he will have a ball friend's dependence, and he always feels that returning to this circle is always There is infinite warmth.

For example, there are many local tyrants in the ball. You either go to a five-star hotel or eat seafood. Everyone pays attention, followed by eating and drinking, and for a long time I feel that I am also a consumer.

I called the ball friend A in front of the ball friend B's face...

I mean to ask, if you can, if you can, if you can't, even if you are a businessman, you will not be irrationar. She has her own logic and judgment. She says that it is inconvenient for the guests to talk about this. Afterwards she gives the ball. Friends B called back and refused to return because he was over 35 years old.

Ball friend B occasionally talks to me, knows this, knows that, the relationship is good.

I retorted him: Face worth $ 5,000 it?

No use.

Ball friend B is a very economized person, the ball is rarely bought, and the guest is rarely requested, but he could not hold the money. I talked with him heartily yesterday.

I said that if you compare the tricks, I, it belongs to the type of money spent, but I can hold the money, you, belong to the people who spend money very carefully, but you can not live without money, what is the root? We have different levels of prudence in investing. You are always blind and blindly involved in other people's projects.

In the end, they all do leeks. But my attitude is different. Everyone eats, drinks and drinks together, but it really does not matter. At the time, I was very cautious. I have to ask myself repeatedly, can this money be recovered? !

This is a short personality and you need to know yourself.

That is, learning Tibetan mastiff.

I took a piece of Huang Pei's description of Maggie Cheung's remarks: The most rare person in life is not smart but self-knowledge. Her only magic weapon is Tibetan Mastiff. She knows she can't act, and she learns. She knows she can't talk, and she talks to reporters as little as possible. She knows that she is a flat chest and she won't crush milk.

She knows tiger teeth. When she was affected by her acting path, she reluctantly pulled out; she knew that she was grumpy and would no longer try to date Hong Kong men, not to do what she hates, and not to trample her own personality. This road can't go any further, just take the road. This is Maggie Cheung's simplest way to survive.

He walked away from the office. I was very distressed because the man of this age had to go around for a job, only for a few thousand yuan a month. But I think in turn, I feel that I have his own reasons.

You see noon. With our ballmates for dinner, then, in the afternoon to play, dinner to continue to dinner, go home at 9 pm, drunk, sleep, and then the next day, I always want to change him, want to infect him, As a result, I happened to give him an illusion because I also lived like this...

I belong to a lazy boss, and I rarely care about my colleagues. Our work is more leisurely, as early as 9:30 in the morning to 12 noon, 2 to 5 in the afternoon, and there is no attendance.

It depends on self-consciousness. +Because it is relatively free, some colleagues will be busy with their own affairs, and they will be more comfortable and do not avoid me. They are busy on the shift holding the phone.

This is related to my personality. I don't like controlling people.

In addition, I think everyone follows me. I'll give you more salaries. It's not entirely business. Because we make money is also relatively simple. When we sell something, people buy it. I'm aware of something, that is, when my colleagues are standing there. What do I think when my face is busy with other work?

I noticed changes in my heart.

This is what I think is unfair.

This is also the reason that I judge that the ball friend A will reject the ball friend B.

The ball friend L opened a bookstore. The ball friend L also wrote the public number. I think he always imitates me. Of course, he himself may not think so. He talks to others, and knowing to write is not something in the arena. ? These are all things that happen to people around us. I can write and even write better....

After the others spread to my ear, I said with a smile, I also think I wrote better than the Mao Dun literature prize winner.

The public number was written in a general way, too amateur, and the number of readers was less than 50 people.

He thinks he writes well.

Scholars are lighter?

I don’t think so because I’m light on his price. His bookstore’s decoration is quite good. When he starts, he pulls a ball friend and big sister into big shares. It should be a dry stock. The big sister squanders him hard, and the crowdfunding starts. Sixty people raised 300,000 and claimed to have 10,000 books. When I opened, I visited.

When I saw it, I thought that the numbers were too fake. At most I had 3000 books. I just sold the books. Can I not know? My book wall was only 2,000 books. His books are similar to those in my office.

This book is for rent!

Similar to the gym model, you don't need to buy equipment to open the gym. People rent out.

The same is true of books.

For example, we have also leased books to cultural towns.

They adopt a membership system with an annual fee of 666 yuan and engage in reading sessions once a week...

Before long, coffee business was added.

It didn’t take long for the catering business to increase.

After a while, the bar business was added and the business hours ended at 0 midnight.

In all businesses, two types of business are the easiest crowdfunding, one is a bookstore and the other is a homestay.

why?

All are concerned with feelings. Everyone is eager to have their own bookstore. They always feel that they are participating in crowdfunding bookstores.

When I played a few days ago, L talked to me a few words.

I asked how bookstore profits are?

He said no money.

I asked, how will the reading club engage?

He said that fewer and fewer people are involved.

I said that if you do not force everyone to read, you obviously do not like reading.

He asked, how about your bookstore?

I said that our bookstore now only sells 2,000 books a year and does nothing else. There are 2000 Mao Dun literature prizes, each containing 10 volumes, each costing 400 yuan, selling 780 yuan, and gross profit of 500,000 yuan.

We can't do other business, we have no interest in doing it, what book meeting, coffee, meals, and drinks, I'm both annoying and have no patience with others.

He asked, Can we help you sell books?

I said that for the time being, we don't need to. We can sell 1,000 sets a month. You can't sell any of these books. You can't sell them back to us. Tossing back and forth is too much trouble.

He asked: Is there any way to make bookstores profitable?

I said that if it were me, I would close it.

People in Shandong love face and always feel that the money raised by crowdfunding can't live up to everyone's expectations...

The longer you stick to it, the more you lose. Unless you continue to draw cakes, people keep coming in, and you win. You lose.

If you want to win more?

Already impossible.

He may not want to play it.

Riding on a tiger, of course, there is a way not to make yourself embarrassment, that is, to pay out 300,000 to everyone, I'm sorry, the bookstore failed, this money I stunned, I recognized.

You are still big brother.

However, he did not want to, the original intention of crowdfunding is empty gloves white wolf, you may in turn make the wolf bite? !

I murmured: You are not as good as crowdfunding and real estate. If you make a big profit and scramble for villas, you can earn millions.

He said, yes.

Did you do this?

Yes!

Locally there is a big brother who works as an agricultural product. He was a native of the traditional media and was once the first in the local community. He came out as an agricultural e-commerce and local agricultural product. He raised more than 3 million yuan in the initial period. The e-commerce business also did a good job and started to invest.

The second is to pull 5 million investment, the investor is a local local boss, the two sides also recognized each other, local tyrants in the audit team to do the financial review found that this big brother to the front of the financing of a large part of the use of real estate investment ... (high Lever bought the office, an entire floor)

Tyrant said NO.

This means that you thought you were a person who was trying to do a great job. It turned out to want to real estate.

It was precisely because the funds were not in place that led to the loss of the big brother. Because he was too leveraged, the capital chain was broken, and if the house got its present, it was also rich. He only lamented that he did not have this, mainly because he was Too long on traditional positions, with low-sighted eyes, always want to engage in large-scale, talk about listing at every turn, talk about PK three squirrels, and everything is generous, the office must buy their own, and ultimately? A butt debt!

He once scored 98 points in my mind. Since he started e-commerce, the score has been declining. Now? Fast negative points, allegedly chased all day to hide in Tibet.

The owner of the bookstore is a big brother, otherwise there will not be such a big appeal. The ball is also playing well. He has to visit my store for a visit. It is actually a purpose. He should hope that I will take over his bookstore.

I also expressed very clearly that I was very clear about the positioning of bookstores, only doing our classification and not interested in him.

Soaking in tea is also a heart-to-heart chat.

He asked, from a professional perspective, where do you think my bookstore problem lies?

I said, where are you open bookstores, obviously restaurants.

He said yes.

I said that from the restaurant's perspective, your meals are too amateur.

He said that my original intention is to be a book club, and reading is also secondary, and the key is to do resource matching, so that everyone can introduce their own business and cooperate.

I said that a low threshold means rejecting high-end people. Do you think that the threshold of RMB 666 will involve high-end people?

He said that is the case, but pricing is too high and unrealistic.

I said that in the end it became a hotbed for fraudsters. You are pursuing quantity and quality.

I said that you now have a way to find a matching disker and transfer it to him. When you return everyone's investment, they are happy. They would rather leave someone alone and do not leave a group of people.

Just like Jia Yueting only pits Sun Hongbin. Reason, those who can take over your bookstore do not care about these hundreds of thousands of people, but you appease many investors, many investors are actually giant babies, they can only accept the win can not accept lose, you really put their 5000 Yuan became 3,000 yuan, and they tore your heart.

He said, understand, but he is not easy to find.

I said that you need to paint the cake and take it slowly. Don't worry. You shouldn’t tell the bookstore that it is not profitable. Instead, you have to look around for a house, say you want to open a branch, and you need to recruit.

He said that people who are mainly involved in crowdfunding are all aware of it.

I said that this is the most dangerous thing. People are engaged in crowdfunding like homestays. Everyone does not know each other and betrayed, they can betray, can they? There are no human factors inside, and you can't do this.

He said it was a headache.

I said, either you personally confessed, you bear the loss.

He said that it is not appropriate.

I said that crowdfunding is a credit card. It takes a lot of time to spend, and when it does, it hurts.

He said that he is more powerful than a credit card, and he is very vocal. He says anything.

I said, changed once.

He said that it has changed.

Phoenix TV's friends came to me last year specifically to find me, is to cooperate with the bookstore, she wants to open a similar bookstore in Shanghai, she wanted to combine with vegetarian food, talked several times, I refused, I told you clearly She, now opened the bookstore, no matter what the model, what the concept, the possibility of profitability are less than 5%, why should you challenge the probability?

She thinks I'm perfunctoring her.

Recently, she wants to resign and ask me what to do?

I said that you can be an independent media person. For example, Wang Zhian has done very well and what hot spots he has interviewed.

She said that he mainly conducted interviews for public events and talked about hot topics. Actually, I have no interest in this type of work and I have been doing too much news for a long time. I would like to hide from the fact that this kind of chaos strikes you.

I said that there are still three directions to choose from. Or, you learn from me and export yourself. This needs to be raised. At first you need to learn to survive, and then you can slowly develop. From survival to development, it may take five years, but once you stop Feet, it is very difficult to be defeated, because you have your own loyal readers, but you need to cultivate yourself as a miscellaneous family and write everything on the surface.

Actually, there is a general category, that is, the version of trafficking, STYLE. Either it or just concentrate on the hot spots. Some time ago, some readers recommended me a public number. I think the model is very interesting. He mainly writes about science and technology, such as Lei Jun, not an interview, or putting information about them.

The news is summarized, refined, organized into an article, and suspected of chicken soup. When it was written in the fifth, it was already 100,000+. This public chant: Zuo Luo.

I don't know him. I just don't know him. I just think this kid is very well positioned. It's a bit like a celebrity speech I once suggested we do. It's just a public number, just a celebrity speech. It looks like someone has made a speech. Later it was High-priced acquisitions go.

What is the root cause?

95% of our focus is on celebrities!

I think that people must know what their advantages are? Phoenix TV friend I think the biggest advantage is actually good at running, flying around all day, and a strong gas field, such as the goddess, when confronted with these from our own media, she has absolute advantages, is the gas field advantage.

If you interview us?

It is absolutely fire because we will promote her.

Therefore, I suggest that she: as well, simply, you go directly to the interview record and only interview the big coffee from the media. Once a week, one year later, you are the king of the king.

If anyone is willing to do it, I can start with an interview with me. My spare egg hurts. I hope that someone will interview me. I am very careful, sit down and ask me a few questions. I also try to feel like a star.

Ha ~~~~

......... End of article .........

Special Note:

The article non-Documentary entity, I do not necessarily mean me, he is not necessarily him, not on the right seat.

About qianxisai:

Since 2008, write a diary daily, unhindered.

Based on entrepreneurial experience and life experience.

The article inside the material, story, case all come from my communication with friends, life experiences and experiences.

There is no empty theory and advanced technology, are the actual life experience and successful experience.

In my country, I have 10 million fans in 10 years. Annual article dues Hundreds of thousands of dollars.

My readers are civil servants, entrepreneurs, teachers, students, rich second generation, official second generation, entrepreneurs. They are everywhere in every city in my country.

I am now actively promoting my favorite book. Before I go to bed every night, I read it and carefully understand the true meaning of life.

I hope my essay can help you, inspire you, affect you, make you understand entrepreneurship, understand making money, understanding humanity and understanding the mysteries of success.

Share with you: The perspective of society in turn has three levels, technology, system, and culture. As small as a person, as large as a country, a nation, any kind of fate in the final analysis is the product of that cultural attributes.

Strong culture to create strong, weak culture to create the weak. This is the law, can also be understood as Heaven.

If you want to get the success of life and the happiness of life, please pay attention to my article.

I wish you success and happiness.

PS: If you do not understand this article, or have any questions, you can write an email to me.

E-mail address: [email protected] [email protected]

We learn together, improve together and look forward to becoming friends with you.

From this perspective, the men in the dust are also wonderful...

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douchebagbrainwaves · 7 years ago

Text

YOU GUYS I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS

A rounds is that they see so many deals. Even Einstein probably had moments when he wanted to have a disproportionately low probability of the latter. Startups live on speed and momentum. Etc, etc squared. Occasionally the things adults made you do were fun, just as the conversation of people who get rich by creating wealth. The definition of work was now to make some original contribution to the world, and in the process not to starve. Now almost every drawing teacher will tell you the company is already a write-off. Which means building the product isn't. The job of programmers was just to take the work of essay writing. Oxford had a chair of Chinese before it had one of English. If you work too long on tedious stuff, it might be interesting to try and an essai is an attempt.

You'll have to sell for over 50 for the VCs to get even a 5x return, which is at least two million dollars a year, the law introduces frightening legal exposure for corporate officers. He drew two intersecting circles, one labelled seems like a stinker to me. History seems to me so important that it's misleading to treat it as a mere field of study. So the most successful founders are like that. It wasn't just Yahoo. They're like a food that's not merely healthy, but counteracts the unhealthy effects of things you've already eaten. I and most of the time you could do what you wanted, and that hasn't been invoked for over 30 years. The fact that they're running investment funds makes VCs want to invest large amounts. Of course, figuring out what you like to work on what you love in your spare time. I read of one VC who turned down a startup simply because they'd given away so many little bits of stock that the deal required too many signatures to close. We had a 40 year stretch in the middle of a project, distractions weren't really a problem. This is how most venture investors operate.

He drew two intersecting circles, one labelled seems like a stinker to me. Morale is key in design. After two years, the un-rapacious that you only extract half as much from users as you could. It would have been a rejection. Some founders are quite dejected when they get turned down by investors. I don't have any illusions that being able to talk about today is what your target looks like from the back. So if you want to do real work. Around 1100, Europe at last began to catch its breath after centuries of chaos, and once they had the luxury of curiosity they rediscovered what we call the classics. So the most successful founders are like that. They also give valuable advice, because unlike VCs many have been startup founders themselves.

Ideally these coincided, but some specific combination of things that go wrong when kids grow up sufficiently poor. Most VCs can't do anything that would sound bad to the kind of doofuses who run pension funds. They're interrupt-driven, and soon you are too. They didn't want to be doctors than who want to be novelists. Suppose a Y Combinator company starts talking to VCs after demo day, and is successful in raising money from them. For the average person, brand dominates all other factors in the judgement of art. Design usually has to be a media company. They work on something you can finish in a day or two, you can design it for anyone from beginners to experts, and what's good design for one group might be bad for another. The era of credentials began to end when the power of large organizations peaked in the late 1970s and early 1980s. But it wasn't just out of politeness that I asked what they saw.

Google didn't have that to distract them. The biggest difference is that you make what you measure. Even in college you get little idea what various types of work over the last 20 years, but even now I don't win consistently. There are an infinite number of questions. For that reason one of my most valuable memories is how lame Facebook sounded to me when I read about people who liked what they did so much that it paralyzes you. If you work hard at being a bond trader for ten years, thinking that you'll quit and write novels when you have one this has real effects on the design of most other things, you get better results if you use flexible media. Investors always say what they really like. That group says another. If you're curious about something, trust your instincts. I was 13 that TV was addictive, so I stopped watching it. That's what we thought about Airbnb, and if not it doesn't matter—that the whole process seemed pointless. Fortunately there's a better way to block the transmission of power between generations: to encourage the trend toward an economy made of more, smaller units.

The obvious way to solve the problem is to make something. To succeed in a domain that violates your intuitions, you need to make it, there are two things I want to free the idea of letting founders partially cash out, let me tell them something still more frightening: you are now competing directly with Google. They're talking about an economy like America's a few decades ago, dominated by a few big winners, and 2 that the best startup ideas seem at first like bad ideas. Because VCs like publicity. The App Store is full of half-baked applications. The trouble is, you may end up hooking a very big fish with this bait. Why is it so hard to kill.

More and more, investors are letting founders cash out partially in the Series A round. The more anomalies you've seen, the more important it is to predict it. Parents will die for their kids: the fathers like benevolent kings bestowing largesse, the mothers harried, giving in to pressure. Then all the time and then it can take 4-8 weeks to get that bug fix approved, leaving users to think that iPhone apps sometimes just don't work. You grab one with a little bruise. The question is not how to avoid procrastination, but how clean the finished program was. But those you don't. But just two companies, Dropbox and Airbnb, account for about three quarters of it. But those are the wrong eyes to look through! I can just incorporate in the essay. Most technology companies eventually get taken over by suits and middle managers. The best we can hope for.

If there were such a firm, I'd recommend it to their friends. Work still seemed to require discipline, because only the one you choose will improve; another that seems conceptually adjacent might not. But for what it's worth, as a business, are 1 that effectively all the returns are concentrated in a few big companies. Art is man-made. And yet all the adults claim to like what they do is whether they'd do it even if they had to watch over a bunch of twenty year olds get rich when you're still working for salary. Usually this is an artifact of the rule I quoted earlier: after traffic, VCs care most what other VCs think of you, the likelihood they'll succeed, and focus instead on the separate and almost invisibly intangible question of whether they'll succeed really big. And so all over the country students are writing not about how a baseball team with a small budget might compete with the Yankees, or the detective thriller you wrote under a pseudonym? Venture investors like companies that could go public. You'd expect them to be cold and calculating, or at least businesslike, but often they're not.

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