A few weeks ago, the New York Times released an article entitled Vaccines Need Effective Messengers. Here’s journalist Shira Ovide:
“Getting the science right is only one element of having coronavirus vaccines be successful. People must also trust them, and that requires an effective communications mobilization.”
The word to focus on in that paragraph is not “science,” “vaccine” or even “communications.”
It’s “trust.”
36 days after Tomas Pueyo published a massively popular article about the coronavirus, he was quoted saying this in an interview:
“I have no training in epidemiology.
You should definitely not trust me.”
Pueyo echos the feeling…
The brain is designed to answer questions.
For most of the year, the question I asked was: “How could it get any worse??” I found answers to that. Then, I asked “what made this year good?” I also found answers to that.
My guess is that you could make a list just like this. You can steal some from my personal list of 50 things that improved my life in 2020.
After 18 months of watching off Best Picture-winning films, Kate and I have turn to a steady diet of Rom Coms this year. We even watched Emily in Paris…
Tim Ferris’s first book succeeded for many reasons. The timing was great. The topic was new. The tips were clear.
Then, there’s the title.
“The Four Hour Work Week.”
Forget…
What exactly can writers do that computers can’t?
Not long ago, this seemed like creative professionals would never have to deal with this question. Sure, those spreadsheet spinning suckers in accounting would be replaced, but a machine could never match the spark and spontaneity of writing, right?
Right??
The answer to that question has changed in recent years.
It got scary for us keyboard warriors when a technology called GPT-2 came along. After consuming the first line of 1984 or Pride and Prejudice, the machine spit out semi-nonsensical (but completely readable) paragraphs.
The world moves so fast that it’s easy to forget that only two weeks ago, the internet took down a hedge fund with Gamestop stocks.
This anomaly gave some millennials their first true financial win. Some were paying off student loans. Others were able to save up emergency funds.
Then there was Hunter Kahn, who used some of his $30K to buy video games for a local children’s hospital. Here’s what he said:
“As a beneficiary of the recent events on Wall Street I think it is important that myself and others pay forward our good fortune. …
Can a book be your ticket to wealth? Yes.
Can a book be your path to excellence? Yes.
Can a book be your road to redemption? Yes.
Can a book be your trail to legacy? Yes.
Can a book be your chance to speak? Yes.
Can a book be your excuse to dream? Yes.
Can a book be your opportunity to hope? Yes.
Books, like bricks, build a house of knowledge. Neither television, movies, nor social media can claim the same. When you read a book, you bypass learning the hard way. You glean lessons from the past. You see…
I noticed something odd last week while watching Father of The Bride with Kate. It wasn’t the fact that some entrepreneur shoemaker could afford a million-dollar house in California. I’d noticed that bizarre write-in before.
No, this oddity was hidden in the film’s dialogue.
Look at these lines from George and Annie’s pre-wedding conversation. George (the dad) gets out of bed because he hears Annie (the future bride) dribbling a basketball in the middle of the night.
Annie: Did I wake you?
George: No, no. I was up. So, what are you doing?
Annie: I couldn’t sleep. I just kept…
Hope is a fire, not a light bulb. You can’t flip hope on and off. There is no circuit board, no fuse box. There are no shortcuts, hacks, or workarounds.
Hope — like fire — requires heat, fuel, and oxygen.
The heat required for fire does not emerge passively. You rub two sticks together. You light a match. You bang flint. Likewise, two neurons can combine to form this thought: “Maybe life can change.”
Fuel feeds the heat. Without fuel, the heat cannot be sustained, regardless of the number of matches you light. Hope fuel comes from what you read…
Real writers don’t care about being seen. They care about being understood. That means each sentence should be impossible to misunderstand. If I understand you, I will share your ideas or shame them. If I can’t understand you, I will quit reading and find a snack.
The quickest path to being understood is through nouns and verbs.
The dog ran.
The man stood.
The bagel beckoned.
You know what each of these sentences means. …
I’m obsessed with Apple TV’s Ted Lasso.
I’m more obsessed with what Jason Sedakis said about creating the character.
When fleshing out the story of an American football coach turned…