What’s the *point* of Google+?

Many people have been perplexed since Google+ launched, wondering why Google+ would bother attempting to take over Facebook. In my opinion, that’s not the point of Google+ at all.  I wrote up my thoughts for the company I’ve been interning for and it went up on the company blog today. So here it is: +1 for Google: Connecting Real Friends.

Depressing that we have to purposely think this way.

We wonder why young girls have such horrible self-esteem problems. We wonder why the majority of eating disorders start around age 5.

Here’s one step to stopping it: a piece by Lisa Bloom, How to Talk to Little Girls…

How Amazon Came to Dominate E-Commerce

Tech Crunch never fails to amaze me with the diversity of information available.

“When you think about ecommerce, you think about Amazon. But how did a company that started with online books come to dominate an estimated one third of ecommerce in the U.S.? In the 72 slides above, global consulting boutique faberNovel breaks down Amazon’s business and strategy. The keys to Amazon’s success are 1) the Internet imposes no limits on how much Amazon can sell; 2) its control of customer accounts and loyalty, and 3) and a growing ecosystem that is helping it cement its place in the world of digital goods as well.

It’s instructive to see how Amazon has expanded over the years and moved away from its reliance on books, music, and movies. You also forget that along the way, Amazon piled up $3 billion in losses between 1995 and 2003. Now it’s got $34 billion in annual revenue, and is spitting out $1 billion a year on profits. Who says you can’t spend your way to profitability?

The slides are a real deep dive into Amazon’s business model and future prospects. Every year faberNovel puts together one of these strategy presentations. In the past it’s analyzed Google(twice), and Apple.”

Here’s the link: How Amazon Controls E-Commerce Slides.

Patriot’s Day and Marathon [Drinking] Monday

If you live in the Boston area, you’ve realized by now that Patriots’ Day is a state holiday, and that on the same day, the Boston Marathon cuts through Boston University’s campus, unleashing drunken hordes of stressed students upon the City of Boston. If you live in any other state, you’re wondering why a marathon warrants a state holiday and/or why we love football so much.

Patriots’ Day has nothing to do with football, and the marathon was scheduled on this holiday after the latter had already been established. Here’s my friend Karen’s excellent post on this holiday, which this year fell on April 18th.

Karen: For those of you in other parts of the United States and for those of you who live in other countries, the holiday “Patriots’ Day” probably means nothing to you. If anything, all you know about it is that it’s the day every April that the Boston Marathon is run by the world’s best runners and the world’s runners with the best hearts (so many charity runners!). If you live in the US, you might think it has something to do with the football team.

You’d all be missing the point.

I have had the wonderful opportunity to have grown up in Massachusetts, and to have spent most of my life in the places where the United States was first founded as a country. Of the great events that took place in 1775, the most influential came from the Massachusetts Bay Colony. In an act of rebellion, we boarded a British trade ship and dumped the tea they were bringing into Boston Harbor. It was a big “fuck you” to the British; a serious statement about what we thought of their policies regarding the Colonies at the time. It got us a blockaded harbor, martial rule, and a massive *headwall* from the other colonies.

And on April 19th, 77 colonists–farmers, craftsmen, clerks, not soldiers–stood on Lexington Green and, as the sun rose, committed an act of treason against Britain. Ordered to drop their weapons and go home, they stood outnumbered before regiments of trained British soldiers. From the windows of the houses on the Green, their wives, daughters, and young sons watched as they were routed. In a few short minutes, 6 men lay dead on the Green, one of them on the steps of a safe house opposite the ground, where his friend collapsed beside him, helpless to do anything. The British then moved back into their ranks and, chanting “huzzah!”, walked across the field, just barely stepping over the bodies of the dead as a local pastor tended to them.

Later on the same day, militias from the surrounding towns would muster at Concord and, introducing the concept of guerilla warfare to the British military trained in the traditional European rules of war, rout the British and send them retreating back to their stronghold at Boston. All along the road (now called the “Battle Road”…or Route 2A), skirmishes and battles would be fought, each time driving the retreating British Regulars back.

On the morning of April 19th, 1775, the course of the world history changed dramatically. 77 untrained men committed an act of war, an act of the highest treason, against their country in the name of freedom.

As the United States looms large in the world’s affairs, it is important to have days like this when we see reenacted before our eyes, at dawn, the events that lead to the creation of our country. I could wax poetic or I could be politically minded and relate this to international affairs, but that is not my place.

I simply want you to take a moment, whoever you are and wherever you are, and think:

Could you, no better than you are now, believe in something so strongly as these 77 men did? Could you, as you are, stand and fight against the world’s greatest army, demanding your freedom and your rights, when it was almost certain that you would lose? That you would die?

Could you?

Or perhaps…would you?

–x–

Having experienced Patriots’ Day as Marathon [Drinking] Monday, I chose this year to experience a total history (and as it turned out later, literary) geek-out and woke up at 3am in order to leave Boston at 3:45am with Karen. We drove up to Lexington, stopped in at Starbucks for coffee at 4:15 am, and then made our way to the Lexington Battle Green, where we perched ourselves by the Monument to the Fallen to watch the reenactment of the start of the Revolutionary War (side note – historians now refer to this war as our War for Independence, which I suppose makes us sound less like the traitorous rebels that we were).

At 5:32 am, the crack of dawn, a man began talking over a loudspeaker, explaining the history behind this reenactment, etc, and suddenly, there was a gunshot from somewhere near the tavern – the shot heard ’round the world. The British Regiment’s drummerboy totally destroyed the element of surprise, and we watched as a professional army (reenactors, obviously, but you know…) marched up and stood opposite to a rabble of farmers wielding muskets.

I tried to imagine what it might have been like on that morning in 1775. Sitting in my house knowing that my father, brother, husband or boyfriend was out standing on a battle green engaging in the first act of war against the world’s most powerful empire. Muskets firing interrupted my thoughts and I watched, instead, as the British army marched through the green, now strewn with dead colonists.

To lighten the mood and sing to the greatness of our revolution (I mean, we totally kicked the British army’s ass at Concord! And then we… won the war. Heck yes, ‘Murica!), Amanda Palmer held a ninja gig on the Lexington Green, ironically at the Monument to the Fallen starting around 6:15am. We decided there that “Should I Stay or Should I Go” by The Clash –a British band, for those who don’t know– was totally about this battle and about the American Revolution. She then performed the song on her ukelele… following it up with her song, “Map of Tasmania” and “Creep,” by Radiohead.

Fingers frozen, the ninja gig came to a halt and the best thing ever happened.

Amanda proceeded to introduce me as her “first and only piano student” to her husband, the illustrious Neil Gaiman. He said he hoped I hadn’t “picked up too many bad habits.” I died with joy. He signed my copy of The Sandman: Preludes & Nocturnes (as a Patriots’ Day favor from a British man to an American girl).

Many pictures were had. I didn’t mean to wear a red coat. Oops.

Karen, Amanda & I

After pancakes with those assembled for the ninja gig, including one awesome Boston high school English teacher named Lauren, Karen and I said our good-byes and headed for Concord, arriving around 8am, a good hour or so before this reenactment, giving ourselves enough time to explore Concord National Park.

In memory of:

Following the reenactment and the parade – we grabbed lunch at a Market/Cafe in the town of Concord and then wandered around, [got lost] and found Author’s Ridge at the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery to pay a visit to our friends Nathaniel Hawthorne, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Louisa May Alcott [and we WOULD have given Thoreau flowers, but I'm currently annoyed at him].

Finally having had enough, we made our way back to Boston, arriving in the city (and to our distress, finding no one in costume after seeing people ONLY in costume for 10 hours) around 3 pm.

All in all, it was a day well spent, even if I’m still completely exhausted and thrown off any semblance of a regular sleep schedule.

Remember when…

Remember when teachers, public employees, planned parenthood, artists and PBS crashed the stock market, wiped out half of our 401Ks, took trillions in TARP money, spilled oil in the Gulf of Mexico, gave themselves billions in bonuses, and paid no taxes?

Yeah, me neither.

~Pass it on.

Reform School …for Former Dictators

My friend Marissa sent me a link to an article titled “Reform School” in Foreign Policy.

Essentially, a program created here at Boston University allows former authoritarian leaders who willingly step down to enroll in a President-In-Residence program… to ease their exit from power.

Laurent Gbagbo, who lost the last elections in the Côte d’Ivoire and refused to step down was also offered a seat in this program.

Call me cynical, but why do we need these exit programs? Because these strongmen are afraid of everyday life in their own countries? Perhaps if they were better rulers, they wouldn’t fear life outside the Presidential Palace.

 

Stephen Colbert is Endlessly Entertaining

Assuredly, you’ve seen Rebecca Black’s music video, “Friday.” Personally, I found it horrendous and alarming, and not at all “genius,” as Lady Gaga decided.  Amanda Palmer has her take on it on her blog, as well, and I have to say, she sums up all the points I’d love to make quite nicely.

On a better note, thanks to auto-tune and Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, Stephen Colbert brings the world:

This was seriously superior to Rebecca Black and has made me hate the song significantly less.

Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom. How NOT to Raise Children

‎”On their own,” Chua writes, “Children never want to work, which is why it is crucial to override their preferences.”

Wow. Is she raising children or running a labor camp? Before anyone jumps on me saying I’m not a mother and so I don’t know what I’m talking about, take this up with my mother. She’ll agree it’s disgusting to deprive children of their rights to be well, children. Yes, I play multiple instruments, had a 4.0 GPA until college, participated in Forensics Speech & Debate, danced, did MMA, and did my homework without being asked.

But I did this because I wanted to. I ran around outside with the neighborhood kids after school, went on more sleepovers than I can count, watched TV when I wanted to, and never once did my mother force me to practice piano, violin, flute, or dance.

I practiced as long as I needed. I stopped dancing at 16 because I wanted more time to breathe. I have numerous first place trophies for piano, Forensics, and dance.

My mother was strict in her own ways (no I couldn’t stay out till all hours of night) but she never strangled me. I could read for pleasure. I set my own impossible grade requirements – she would never have criticized me for a B, but I wouldn’t allow myself anything less than an A.

“For Chinese moms, a less-than-perfect child is a disgrace to the family, a slap-in-the-face to the parents — utter shame.”

Wake up. Your child isn’t supposed to bring you the Perfect Mom trophy. You brought a child into the world out of love. If you wanted perfection, you should have bought a robot.

Amy Chua’s daughter played at Carnegie Hall at age 14? At least my mother’s daughters are happy.

LINK: http://www.cnn.com/2011/LIVING/01/13/chinese.mom.superior/index.html

Who died and made the TSA Satan?

It’s Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the busiest travel day of the year.  I get that.  I’m also a bit worried because people across the country decided to get all up in arms, figuratively, about the Backscatter imaging machine – you know, the new machine at airports that use harmful x-ray imaging to take a nude photo of you? – and the opt-out sexual contact pat down. Yep, that’s right folks.  The TSA may now violate you, and you paid for it! Someone somewhere decided that Wednesday, November 24th, would be National Opt-Out day, in an effort to show the TSA that Americans are appalled that they’re being treated like criminals in their own country. That their rights are being stripped because of the possibility of a terrorist attack from an unknown source.

Needless to say, it didn’t work.  Why?  Because no one wanted to be delayed on their flight home.  Because the Backscatter machines in multiple major airports were mysteriously “broken.” Because it wasn’t the Sunday before work/school.

I got home with no difficulty, realized once I’d gotten home that I’d left my Swiss army knife in my purse the whole time.  Apparently, it didn’t get picked up by the scanners.  Now, I know that Swiss army knives shouldn’t go in carryon luggage, I just forgot, as it was attached to my keys.  On the flight back from Tampa to Boston, I placed the offending object in my checked baggage.

Smooth sailing, right? Not quite.

My purse didn’t make it through the scanner this time, and now I was actually confused.  I had… my planner, my wallet, a book, my iPod, my cell phone, keys and some pens in there. That’s all, I thought. Nope.  The TSO (Transportation Security Officer – They get fancy names with acronyms because it makes them feel important and useful. Neither of which they are) couldn’t find anything wrong with my purse so he rescanned it.  This time, he found what he was looking for. MY WINE KEY.  Now, I don’t know if you’re familiar with a wine key, but it has a wine corkscrew, a bottle opener, and a tiny blade to remove the paper covering the mouth of a wine bottle. A completely dull blade compared to a razor. Not a single part of this wine key could seriously harm anyone.  I use this for work for hours at a time (bartending), and I’m accident prone. It would have hurt me by now.

So, of course, I’m appalled, and I ask the TSO, “Seriously? Try stabbing me with that tiny blade, IT DOESN’T WORK.”

He, of course, said, “I simply cannot let you take this on-board.”

I just stared at him for 4 seconds, and responded with, “Okay. Have fun opening wine bottles.  Your policies are ineffective and moronic.  No wonder people keep attempting terrorist acts.  I’m going now before I say something that gets me arrested.”

Then, I proceeded to get extremely frustrated and angry.  At this point, I realized, fine I’ll buy a new wine key.  I’ll figure that out before work on Tuesday. But, I was just appalled at the lack of direction.

Here’s an excerpt from the TSA website:

“To ensure travelers’ security, Transportation Security Officers (TSOs) may determine that an item not on the Prohibited Items List is prohibited.”

That, in essence, says, TSA officers may do whatever they want, because we don’t actually have an idea what is dangerous.

In an agency that exists in crisis mode, the members need to be INTELLIGENT.  A quality lacking in most TSA officers.  The agency is constantly one step behind terrorists, and the morons running the show don’t understand thinking ahead.  They get a fancy uniform and a shiny badge and feel all high and mighty, thinking they’re doing something significant to secure our homeland, but all they’re really doing is pissing off Americans.

Most of the people going through these security checkpoints have done nothing wrong; they’re ordinary Americans.  Security is fine and dandy, but the TSA has proven incapable of providing it.  How did the Nigerian man with the explosives in his underwear get on board?  Because the TSA officers were too busy confiscating wine keys and baby formula.

It’s incidents like these that make me lose even more faith in the future of our country and make me feel horrible for the men and women of the armed forces who are fighting for our country.

I’d like to think we’re not all stupid Americans, but the TSA provides a damn good argument countering me.

This isn’t a Band of Gay Mimes, We Swear

Three years later, Amanda Palmer and Brian Viglione brought The Dresden Dolls back together for a surprise Fall 2010 Tour.  When the tour was first announced, I saw no show dates for Boston and was both surprised and disappointed.  I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that they’d avoid the city of the Dolls’ birth.  I wasn’t disappointed for long.  As soon as the Boston tickets went on sale, I snagged a pair – a ticket for me and one for my first and best Boston friend.

As I was expecting, the show was absolutely phenomenal.  The stage set up was classic for the Dolls, and as always, the opening costumes were stunning.  Amanda had posted on her blog that they would play the entirety of The Dresden Dolls debut album on Day 1 in Boston and the entirety of Yes, Virginia on Day 2.  So, to “fuck with [the audience],” they opened with “Sex Changes,” moved onto “Backstabber,” finishing up with “Mrs. O,” before pausing to laugh at all of us.  The two then continued on to play through the songs on the debut album, pausing between sets of 3 or 5 to tell stories and snippets about the Dolls’ history and Amanda’s life.

I’ve seen The Dolls play in concert twice before, I’ve seen Amanda solo in concert twice, and I’ve seen Cabaret.  Every one of these performances ripped apart my emotional balance, digging into my core to pull up emotions I didn’t know existed.  For the first time, I didn’t cry during The Jeep Song.  For the first, I didn’t feel my heart wrenching apart during Truce.  The Dolls’ performance had the opposite effects on me this time around.  Brian’s drumming was more confident than ever, and Amanda’s piano playing much more refined.  The music seemed to fill in the cracks in my mood and in my emotions, giving me a sense of calm in the chaos of a moving wave.

The Dresden Dolls calmed me down… go figure.

I’m aching for more, but unfortunately my schedule didn’t permit seeing the Dolls on Wednesday night… I’m hoping for another Boston or Tampa show sometime soon.

Until then, it’s just me and the minibar.