Theories on Social Interaction
December 17th, 2000"Do you like her?"
"Yea," I nodded. "Yea, I think I do."
"That's great! But what about the long distance thing?"
"Sigh… I don't know. I guess the situation may not be in my favor this time."
"Do you like her?"
"Yea," I nodded. "Yea, I think I do."
"That's great! But what about the long distance thing?"
"Sigh… I don't know. I guess the situation may not be in my favor this time."
I fooled them all.
They all think I'm some kind of socialite. A guy who's always smiling, always talkative, always outgoing. They accuse me of being a "blabbermouth" or a "ham," whatever that is.
Ha. I'm so good, it scares me.
Sniff sniff.
Smells good.
Okay, this black shirt can go back into rotation.
Sniff sniff. Whoa. This dark red one can't.
Every so often, I'll grab a beer, lean back into my couch, and observe the world around me. If I observe long enough, I begin to see patterns. My mind, spiked by the beer, will then formulate complex and perspicacious theories, because, as we all know, beer is known to spurn complex and perspicacious thoughts in people.
I would now like to share some of my beer-inspired complex and perspicacious theories, as an effort to show you how harmful the effects of alcoholism can be.
Another one of my theories: We live in a sleep-deprived society that's slowly killing us.
In the current U.S. business world, the 40-hour working day is a myth. Many really put in the 60–80 hour working days.
One of the saddest tragedies of our time could have been prevented.
I'm talking about the shooting at Columbine High School in the town of Littleton, Colorado. Two students, armed with guns and bombs, walked into their school and opened fire on their classmates and teachers. Twelve students and one teacher were killed. Then they killed themselves.
Eureka! I've got it! I know what a soul is!
Please keep an open mind when you read this theory of mine. And it's just that—a theory.
"I've seen how fragile so many software systems are—how one bug can bring them down."
Scott Olmsted uttered this line to Wired reporter Kevin Poulsen in the same breath he used to tell him that he was just about to buy his first gun.