my mother's grandparents owned factories in ohio. mayo industries. they also owned skating rinks, which is where everybody went on a friday night.
my dad's parents met at one of them. janet and calvin. i have his name. but people don't skate anymore and the factories are gone.
piano, violin, math. none of it was the language. fighting was. i learned the language.
my grandmother says hope creates hopelessness. she has never read the tao te ching. i found it in there years later, chapter thirteen. hope is as hollow as fear.
my mother said a home should always have books in it for children to read.
summers visiting dad and grandma, he forced me to read nietzsche. i hated it so much that i minored in philosophy. stephanie was proud.
at nineteen i carried a brick in a bag across a field in the dark. onward and upward toward the light.
a man goes looking everywhere for an ox while he is sitting on it.
we become so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others that at last we are disguised to ourselves.
la rochefoucauld · maxims 119 · 1665
i am a capitalist. we came to create.
did you know ice in summer was for emperors. they sent men up the mountain for snow. air conditioning went to factories before houses. a bright room after sunset belonged to the rich, and some places you fed a coin in the wall for an hour of light. crazy. nobody thinks about any of it now. that is technology.
i don't aspire to be a founder. entrepreneurship is water to a fish and swimming is what you do. the only problem is coming up for air.
we have never found a limit to what people can want or imagine. the only constraint is physics.
the machines are about to make everything that can be copied cost close to nothing. that part is settled. then what?
son. we are already living in the meaning economy. there is much to do.
art is never finished. it stops at interesting places.
