Twitter for Dummies has found its way into bookstores.

Amazon: Twitter for Dummies
Kindle edition: Twitter for Dummies

It’s also available at Barnes and Noble for the retail price of $21.99 +tax.

Congrats to my co-authors, Laura Fitton and Leslie Poston and everyone else who contributed to our efforts.

I don’t think human beings are capable of original thought.

In essence, the brain is a pattern machine. Thoughts and ideas are stored in neurons in the cerebral cortex as a nest of patterns, patterns established on physical limitations (the body) and on the environment. Emotion, circumstance, and social interaction help dictate the patterns the brain understands and values—and only that follows.

I’m not meaning to say we don’t think. (Or, at least I think we think.) What we call thought is (I think) our brains’ attempt to pattern-match our lifetimes’ worth of experiences onto whatever problem, circumstance, or question confronts us. Racking our own brains, we turn to research and randomness.

By way of example, recall Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, the scene where primates discovered tool use by bludgeoning skulls with a loose femur. The act of banging was behavioral, its proximity to skulls coincidental, and thus its use random. Skulls, the primates knew, once belonged to live animals, and thus they concluded: the femur could be used against other primates. A novel idea, translated from random happenstance.

Similarly, the major leaps of man are random acts of pattern discovery: patterns observed, learned, and translated into other situations. In this sense, original thought is nothing more than discovery and translational application.

This is also not to say humans are incapable of complex thought, quantum leaps, or extraordinary thinking—I’m only suggesting that those leaps and complexities are based on a systems that we know or that we happened upon: our imaginations are limited to our experiences and the patterns we innately understand on circumstance of being human.

Consciousness is our gift. Pure creation is not. (Insert your preferred dogmatic implications here.)

Which, if I’m right, is rather frustrating… if I’m right, I never really came up with this idea—it just happened upon me.

A roll of toilet paper has taken residency on my desk– in its tenure, I’ve discovered wondrous new uses.

For many of us, toilet paper is a singular in purpose, tasked to clean up modest unpleasantries. Though, over the past few months, I have since discovered some interesting—if not unorthodox—uses for this oft-neglected paper product. Turns out it’s more versatile and inexpensive than many its alternatives. To wit:

1. Whiteboard eraser 

Toilet paper is far superior to whiteboard erasers:

1. Toilet paper is a joy to hold. Erasers are not. The soft, round form-factor of a roll trumps its plastic counterparts in feel hands down: it’s soft and plushy, accommodates the shape of your hand, and no matter how hard you press it against the whiteboard to rub out stubborn dry-erase marks, it never makes that scratching sound that plagues traditional plastic erasers when pushed to the limit. In addition, ANY surface of the toilet paper is a working edge, whereas the plastic competitor can only erase effectively in one orientation.
2. Toilet paper is typically taller, and thus requires fewer strokes. When you’re working in the fast-paced world of whiteboard-enhanced office environments, seconds count. With TP, you’re cleaner… faster.
3. Toilet paper is far more precise. For small erasures, squares of toilet paper can be manipulated into arbitrarily-small pieces. With plastic erasers, you’re forced to use a corner—and, since companies manufacture them cheaply as possible, they often skimp on the often mission-critical corner erasing material.
4. Toilet paper cleans with consistent quality. When you’re done erasing with toilet paper, you can remove the dirty layer, instantly yielding a clean eraser—every time. Over time, plastic erasers build up stores of dry-erase material and lose their effectiveness.
5. Toilet paper is easily replaceable and accessible, available at any local bathroom or water closet. Plastic erasers need be scrounged for, often lurking in the bowels of office supply closets, or purchased from shelves at the rear of local office supply stores. (To boot, in rural environments, the cost of procurement can be costly due to transportation expenses.)
6. Toilet paper is affordable. High-quality, recyclable toilet paper runs $1.14 a roll when purchased in bulk. Mediocre  whiteboard erasers cost $2.04 in bulk, nearly twice as expensive. Further, my preliminary tests demonstrate that a roll of toilet paper will last longer than one plastic eraser. So, in costs per whiteboards (CPW), toilet paper is far greater than the 2:1 unit cost ratio suggests; In reality, I it’s closer to 3:1.
7. Toilet paper is environmentally friendly and dissolves in water and are recyclable. Plastic erasers, particularly those made from PVC, are more difficult and costly to recycle.

Lastly, by using TP as whiteboard erasers in an office environment, you’re showing your commitment to a cleaner, healthier environment, and publicly displaying your operational pragmatism in employing a cheaper solution than the norm. 

2. Vibration silencer

Office machines, particularly those with fans, tend to develop rattles over time. 

For example, in the NOM offices, we have a standing-unit air conditioner than is dead silent; though, from time-to-time, one of the plastic exterior panels comes a tad loose, creating a rattling sound that is nothing short of infuriating. Though easily rectified with a sharp tap to the side of the unit, many times I’d rather not leave my desk. In these cases, I throw a roll of toilet paper at the problem and the issue is immediately resolved.

To my chagrin, I can think of no other instance where I can utter those words mean them completely, wholly and literally.

3. Coffee/Tea Coasters

Despite the best efforts of our favorite baristas and container designers, sometimes coffee cups and tea cups cannot contain the sweet, sweet warmth of our favorite beverage. If a coaster is unavailable, a square of toilet paper suffices just fine. I recommend 2-ply as it tends to be more absorbent than its single-sheet counterparts.

4. Mini-spills

In the same vein, office spills tend to be small misplaced splashes, and not floods of biblical proportion. Toilet paper is much more environmentally friendly than paper towels given that each tear uses a smaller piece of paper and that the sheets are smaller to begin with. In the case of larger spills, an entire roll can be used if need be, whereas a full roll of paper towels would be more costly and take up more room on a desk.

 
5. Pencil and Sharp-Object Holder

While pencil cups are preferred, a roll of unused TP can be used as a paper cup: just place the pens and pencils inside of the spindle with the flat side perpendicular to the table. If you run out of room, you can easily shove the sharp ends directly in-between the unused, rolled-up sheets. This is particularly useful for exacto blades missing their plastic caps.

As you might have guessed, toilet paper is quickly becoming my new favorite desk accessory. This list is merely the beginning of the uses I have discovered—I will undoubtably find more.

Remember the days before life was forever chronicled in an Internet Archive?

Recently, I came to the realization that nearly everything I do isn’t ever going away. Nearly every typo and heat-of-the-moment remark remains permanently stored — and indexed! — on search engines and social Web2.0 websites.

I wonder what my kids will think.

Over 14mm photos are uploaded to Facebook a day, with over 100,000 of them video. Twitter passed the 1Bn tweet mark a month or so ago, and though this blog has only existed for less than a year, it features over 25 posts.

Yes yes, I know: 25 posts pales in comparison to the Tumblratti’s diligence or ego-bloggers’ persistence; but, consider that  you can probably pick out only a dozen or so experiences from you childhood that had any significant bearing in your life. Further, only half of those would be worth mentioning in your [auto]biography. Now, we  share it all.

In kindergarten we assembled a time-capsule. Though it’s decades later and I’m near certain my teacher and classmates have long forgot about it, I remember the care and thought that went into selecting our objects and writing our messages. The exercise forced us to take stock about what’s important to communicate to future generations. In effect, we editorialized.

Nowadays, we inundate ourselves with lifestreams. And though every once in a while we unpack, sort, and sift through our user-generated monsters, in the moment, I don’t think we really take stock of every little piece of ourselves that we share– much less how they shape that beast. Now, the capsule is a timeline.

The implications are far too numerous to explore here; after all, this is just another moment on a blog.

If you’re unwilling to put your hands in your mouth, wash your hands before using the bathroom.

I don’t understand it why we, as a culture, prioritize hand washing at the conclusion and not at the beginning of bathroom excursions. The genitals and surrounding areas have to be the cleanest parts of the body. Shower-washed and wrapped in clean cotton for most of the day, it’s a pretty sanitary place. The world at large, not so much.

Paradoxically, we handle our most sensitive bits with our most promiscuous body part: our hands. Hands that have rubbed public railings, opened doors, manhandled money. Hands that have tied shoes, rode the subway, scratched butts. Hands that have touched nearly everything in reach. These hands store all that residue and apply it directly to the most bacteria-friendly area of the body: the crotch.

And yet, we’re trained to wash our hands only after we use the bathroom as a courtesy to the rest of the world. Though the world thanks you, this makes no sense.

So, I’m declaring the Mouth Hand Rule: handle your naughty bits only if you’re comfortable, at that very moment, with putting your hands in your mouth. (For those with special friends, think also about why this is a courteous gesture.)

In general, you’ll fail the test. So, wash your hands, use the toilet. In that order. If applicable, wash your hands again.

Those who know me know my affection for Continental Airlines… that was until a two days ago.

I flew Continental Airlines because of their no bullshit policy: a flight includes a seat, pillow, meals, and all the accouterment you’d expect from a high quality airline. Coupled with great customer service, smooth check-in, and fair prices, it all made sense.

Until today. Today, I checked in and was informed on the e-ticket check-in kiosk that there was a $15 charge per bag. I’ve heard of other airlines doing this, but not my dear Continental. I pay the $15 (I couldn’t carry on the bag if I wanted to due to TSA liquid regulations… but don’t get me started on that one) and walk through security.

Waiting for my flight, I call Continental for clarification on the change in policy. Mostly, I was concerned because nowhere within my normal routine of booking a flight on continental.com was any clear and obvious mention of a bag charge. The conversation went something like this:

“Hi. My name’s Michael Gruen and I have a question about your new bag checking charge. I don’t recall any mention of this when I purchased a ticket, nor in my frequent-flier mailings; I’m not happy about the change and I’d like to talk about it.”

“The website clearly states the baggage policy change. If you have a question about that, I can forward you on to our website technical team.”

“I don’t recall anything about that on the website while booking my ticket, nor do I think you’ve made an earnest (if any) effort to notify your frequent fliers and OnePass members of the fare change. Really, this is kind of bullshit.”

“Oh dear! I don’t have the patience to deal with swearing. Releasing call.” *click*

Oh, Continental, that was smart: hang up on audibly upset, albeit polite customer who’s willing to work with you. I call back.

“Hi. My name’s Michael Gruen and [...] I’m not happy about the charge and I’d like to talk about it.”

“The charge went in to effect about a month ago. When did you book your ticket?”

…blah blah blah, and then the rep said…

“Yes, your ticket falls under our new baggage policy.”

“I’m sure it does. I’m saying I recall no mention of the change, nor any effort on your part to alert me to this charge between my purchasing the ticket and my showing up, with bag, at the airport. And I’d like to talk about what we can do here.”

“That’s a question for our website technical support team.”

“But, it’s not a techni—” *click-transfer-hold music*.

Seriously, Continental? You effectively hung up on me twice over a $15 charge on a $300 ticket to O’Hare from Newark on a Boeing 737-300. This isn’t a commuter flight, and I’ve flown Continental in nearly every month this year.

So, I immediately call American Express (a company I still strongly endorse) and, after a 5 minute discussion, they put in an inquiry on my behalf into the issue and will get back to me via e-mail. And, if they can’t work it out, they encourage me to dispute the charge.

In the end, I don’t mind paying $15 on top of my $300 ticket to check my bag. I just want the airline to be upfront about it and, if they’re charging for baggage, lower the ticket price accordingly.

So, congratulations Continental– you’ve earned your $15 bag checking charge (assuming American Express doesn’t nullify that) but lost a raving fan and customer. I encourage you to call your marketing department and learn how much it cost to earn my business in the first place.

Update: Continental just charged me $50 to fly standby.

Update #2: That “confirmed” window seat turned into a middle seat when I arrived at the gate. Then, they checked my carry-on bag because there was no more room.

Update #3: Ticketing agent blames me for delaying the plane by bringing a carry on. I am livid.

Walking in the city is a full contact sport. From one professional city walker to another, here’s how I do things.

Please note: this guide is intended for solo walkers. For couples and groups, many of these tactics are sub-optimal; however, they may prove useful for those serving as group leader in the mama duck role. If demand exists, I will expand and modify this guide to include optimal-walking recommendations for dates, business conversations, threesomes, and for groups four and larger. Please enjoy.

Principles

1. Use the road.
   Don’t be afraid to walk in the street. Sidewalks, particularly downtown, weren’t built with a bustling metropolis in mind and are narrow in many places. If you’re stuck behind a slow-moving tourist, check for motor vehicle traffic, and walk in the street. The lights in NYC are pretty predictable, and likewise the traffic (when it’s not at a standstill). Take advantage.
2. City blocks are not one-dimensional: cut corners wherever possible.
   If we take a city block and take a look at the cross-section, you’ll notice that streets have dimensions. That is, they have sidewalks, and road, parked cars, and traffic lights.

   
   Look at all that space between buildings!

   When walking down the street, look for opportunities to cross the street before an intersection or cross walk. But, don’t walk in a straight line across, perpendicular to traffic… cross at an angle.

   

   The Blue Line is how you’ve likely been doing things. Follow the red line next time… but watch for traffic!

   The other clear advantage to cutting the corner is that you often avoid most of the pedestrian traffic on both the sidewalk and the crosswalk. As discussed with principle #1, use the road. Don’t let dumplings* slow you down.

3. When aggressively cutting corners and crossing blocks, prioritize avenues over streets.
   Avenues run along Manhattan top-to-bottom whereas streets run cross-town. In general, avenues are wider and are much harder to cross because city engineers prioritize uptown/downtown traffic flow over cross-town traffic. So, cross them when you can, and use the entire road (as in the red-line above.)

   Cross-town traffic tends to be at a standstill. Coupled with a narrower road, they’re much easier to cross.

4. Avoid corners of immobility.
   On many street corners, particularly in midtown, some lights block you from crossing the street in either direction. Avoid these where possible.
5. Show preference towards how the crow flies.
   Usually, walkers travel up/down-town and cross-town. If you max out your amount of up-/down- or left-/right-ness, you’ll be subject to the lights in one direction only– meaning, there’s a lot of waiting around. Sometimes, this is unavoidable, but keep it in mind.
6. Cut through parks and building tunnels whenever possible.
   This should be obvious but for one caveat: sometimes those tunnels are filled with people. Often not, so check foot traffic density before committing, because they’re no way out.
   
7. Avoid touristy areas, unless you don’t mind walking in the street.
   They’re full of dumplings… and for you tourists out there, the streets are where all the celebrity’s walk. They have about as much tolerance for tourists as I do.

8. Avoid Construction Sidewalks
   You’re much more susceptible to being caught behind a dumpling. And, to boot, the area is often filthy with small ponds forming when it rains. Just walk around, in the street if possible.

I hope this has been helpful.

–

*Term coined by Oz Sultan

You are to blame for wallstreet’s problems, and you’re going to pay for it.

In the wake of a market meltdown, everyone’s talking about how bad it is. Silly thing, though, few people actually have any relevant domain knowledge. Even sillier, people respond in the worst possible way: they stop spending money.

Stock pricing often has little to do with a company’s balance sheet, the piece of paper that describes how good the company is at making money. In practice, most companies are over-priced based on speculation and emotion. (I love Apple! Their products are neat! Oo, Altria! What a cool name! I should buy some of it! [ed: Altria trades under MO, formally Philip Morris, the cancer-purveyors.])

But then the market starts heading south: people look at the balance sheets, start to have lukewarm feelings towards their beloved, and then — oh my god — it’s overvalued. Those golden parachute-loving bear fuckers! Sell! Sell! Sell!

I digress. Let’s talk about how this is your fault.

When the market has a correction, people flip out. With me-too attitudes, people sell their securities, move money in-between banks for FDIC protection (with a lot of hand-waving means that your deposits are protected up to $100,000 courtesy of the government), and then, worst of all, stop spending money.

In America, the vast majority are waged or salaried, and in most cases, regardless of how the market performs, take home the same pay every two weeks. While IRAs and 401ks might be going for a wild ride (which it will do through market cycles anyway), most people’s working budget remains somewhat steady. (Aren’t fixed-rate mortgages and rent contracts nice?)

However, fueled by media speculation and fear, consumers are completely reactionary. They hear “The Dow dropped 100 points on the day” (I wonder what percentage of Americans actually know what the Dow is) and think “OMG WTF the economy is hosed! I’m not going to have any money!”

Yes, you are. But, you’re not going to act like it and your not spending money is compounding the problem. When the markets’ revenues are down, it’s because companies aren’t making money. And they aren’t making money because you’re not spending money.

And as the economy crumbles, and we “need” billions — possibly trillions — of dollars in the form of a “bail out” (the terms somehow absolves certain responsible parties of responsibility) you know who pays for it? You. In the form of a loan, written by your country, to another.*

Stop trading and stop freaking out. Act as if nothing has happened; because to you, in the short term, nothing did.

–

*And don’t get me started on how I feel about the bailout. (more…)

Welcome to USA Bank of Social Capital!

We’re glad you could come in today because we have some important information about social capital (also called whuffie) that you should know. What is social capital? Roughly speaking, social capital is the value in your personal network; and like any value, it can be traded, spent, or invested.

But, unlike other asset classes, social capital has memory. More traditional classes, like cash, are relatively expendable: lose all your cash, you’ll be mad at yourself. Lose all your social capital, your capital will be mad and it will be hard to earn back. Further, if you manage to reclaim it, it will always remember you once lost it.

Boy howdy!

Inasmuch, at USA Bank of Social Capital, we treat social capital a little bit differently: we view it almost exclusively as a hedge. In a bind, your social capital can mitigate a business or personal loss, afford you access to new opportunities, and otherwise just save your ass-*cough!*… assets. ‘Scuse me– there’s a cold going around.

But don’t misunderstand: we encourage you to trade your social capital, because trade generates wealth; share your network’s value and others will share theirs. However, be weary of egregious spending: tax your network without giving back and you’ll go broke! Remember, your social capital is only as strong as your own contributions.

As a rule, we recommend that all of our clients save their social capital and invest it appropriately. Bankrupt on cash, your social capital can save you and put you back on track. Bankrupt on social capital, you’re on your own, because here at USA Bank of Social Capital, we can’t be bought. 

If you have any further questions, one of our representatives will be happy to assist you.

Thank you for choosing USA Bank of Social Capital!

Stolen Material:

I have a penis…
my penis penis penis…
oooh, look, a sandwich.

- Meg Fowler