But what of the Empire Build­ing? It was a thrilling expe­ri­ence to be whizzed in a “lift” a quar­ter of a mile heav­en­ward, and to see New York spread out like a mar­vel­lous tapes­try beneath us.

There was the Hud­son – more like the flash of a sword-blade than a noble river. The lit­tle island of Man­hat­tan, set like a jewel in its nest of rain­bow waters, stared up into my face, and the solar sys­tem cir­cled about my head! Why, I thought, the sun and the stars are sub­urbs of New York, and I never knew it! I had a sort of wild desire to invest in a bit of real estate on one of the plan­ets. All sense of depres­sion and hard times van­ished, I felt like being friv­o­lous with the stars.

— Helen Keller in a let­ter to Dr. John Fin­ley describ­ing what she “saw”.

The story of Ran­bir Kapoor’s great­est fan:

For about two years, Sapna Kam­dar has main­tained a rigid, unvary­ing sched­ule. Every evening she trav­els from her house in Wadala to Pali Hill in Ban­dra where she waits to catch a glimpse of the star. Some­times she’s lucky, most times she’s not. It’s a lonely vigil, stand­ing out­side his bun­ga­low, wait­ing, just wait­ing with faith and love and hope in her heart.

Full story here.

How A Pirate Was Born

When a film stu­dent (capt_wink_martindale on red­dit) tried to make a movie based on Isaac Asimov’s I, Robot around the time the Will Smith-starrer of the same name came out:

Part of the project was to make posters, trail­ers, and a web­site for the film. We even went so far as to cre­ate our own pro­duc­tion com­pany, as to look pro­fes­sional. Some­how the legal team from the stu­dio found out about a stu­dent project, in a small pri­vate col­lege in the Mid­west, with no bud­get, being shot in a ware­house base­ment, and decided to issue a cease and desist order. Basi­cally, what that means, is that the studio’s lawyers said to us, “You’re using our prop­erty. Stop, or we’ll sue you into the stone age.” I responded by send­ing them the con­sent form from the Asi­mov estate, and explained that it was a stu­dent project, not a com­mer­cial ven­ture worth lit­i­gat­ing. I turned over our script, our shoot­ing notes, our shot list, copies of our tapes and even the con­cept art drawings.

Instead of the let­ter rec­og­niz­ing our valiant efforts as stu­dents that I expected, I found myself on the tail end of a phone call that changed my life. I was con­tacted directly by the lead of the studio’s legal team, who explained my sit­u­a­tion to me very clearly. He told me that I was tech­ni­cally in my legal right to use Isaac Asimov’s mate­r­ial. How­ever, if I chose to pro­ceed, they would file mul­ti­ple law­suits total­ing over 2 mil­lion dol­lars against me. In the end, I might win, but it would take hun­dreds of thou­sands of dol­lars in legal fees just to fight it, but would cost them noth­ing more than the salaries they already pay their lawyers. It would be 10 years before any type of ver­dict could be levied, and by then it wouldn’t mat­ter what the out­come was, since their film would be long since released.

This is how cre­ativ­ity is encour­aged. This is what hap­pens to aspir­ing small-time film-makers whose paths cross with the big studios.

/via @nimbupani

When we renounce our dreams and find peace, we go through a short period of tran­quil­ity. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and to infect our entire being.
We become cruel to those around us, and then we begin to direct this cru­elty against our­selves. That’s when ill­nesses and psy­choses arise. What we sought to avoid in com­bat – dis­ap­point­ment and defeat – come upon us because of our cowardice.”

— Paulo Coelho in Killing your dreams.

Choose your best friends among those who bring some­thing to the party. It’s not so easy to make new ones. As you grow older, a relent­less nar­row­ing takes place, until if you grow old long enough you’re reduced to your orig­i­nal state when you first boarded the ves­sel: Those who feed and care for you.

— Roger Ebert on friends, life and death in O Cap­tain! my Cap­tain! our fear­ful trip is done

Perfect Rest

There is noth­ing in her appear­ance but per­fect rest. You would sup­pose her qui­etly asleep.”

— Charles Dick­ens in a let­ter to his wife, Cather­ine, break­ing the news gen­tly about their 8-month old daughter’s death.

Read the entire let­ter. One of the most painful let­ters any­one would have ever had to write.

Read­ing is an act of resis­tance in a land­scape of dis­trac­tion.… It requires us to pace our­selves. It returns us to a reck­on­ing with time. In the midst of a book, we have no choice but to be patient, to take each thing in its moment, to let the nar­ra­tive pre­vail. We regain the world by with­draw­ing from it just a lit­tle, by step­ping back from the noise.”

— David Ulin via How to Sur­vive The Age of Distraction

Vessels

The ves­sels we cre­ate often deter­mine the things that con­tain them. Also, chang­ing the ves­sel can change our per­cep­tion and our expe­ri­ence and what we place in them.”

— Patrick Rhone in Ves­sels, Names, and Frames

If you are the mes­sen­ger, remem­ber: the medium is as impor­tant as the message.

Accident-aa?

Secu­rity Guard: STOP[points to my feet] No chap­pal allowed.

Me: Uhh…

Guard: San­dals not allowed. Go back, change and come.

Me: Err… Really? I stay at BTM… So far!… And imag­ine the traf­fic at this hour! Are you sure you want to put me through this?

Guard: Go back, change and come.

Me: But I wore these accidentally…

Guard: Accident-aa?

Me: Yeah, yes! Accident!

Guard: Okay. No problem.

Me: [mut­ters as I walk past the check­point] Achieve­ment unlocked!

 

Even Steve Jobs Used Slide Decks

Peo­ple who know what they are talk­ing about don’t need PowerPoint.”

— Steve Jobs quoted in Wal­ter Isaacson’s mem­oir Steve Jobs.

This quote has become fairly pop­u­lar after it was fea­tured in a post by Pre­sen­ta­tionZen. If you think there is rea­son enough to ban slide decks alto­gether, I’d say no.

I too, like most white-collared work­ers, have been sub­jected to one too many sleep-inducing pre­sen­ta­tions with wordy slide decks that never seemed to end. But are we right in blam­ing Pow­er­Point? Isn’t it just a tool that is harm­ful when it falls into the wrong hands? Shouldn’t we be blam­ing poor pre­sen­ters instead?

The hypocrisy of Steve’s state­ment is evi­dent when you real­ize that he loved using slides:

We had one rule that really both­ered him: We never allowed slides, which were his main pre­sen­ta­tion tool.

One year, about an hour before his appear­ance, I was informed that he was back­stage prepar­ing dozens of slides, even though I had reminded him a week ear­lier of the no-slides pol­icy. I asked two of his top aides to tell him he couldn’t use the slides, but they each said they couldn’t do it, that I had to. So, I went back­stage and told him the slides were out. Famously prickly, he could have stormed out, refused to go on. And he did try to argue with me.”

— Walt Moss­berg in The Steve Jobs I Knew

Yes, the very same per­son who appears to be blam­ing slide decks was irri­tated when he was not allowed to use them.

Of course, there is a dif­fer­ence between Steve’s slide deck and the com­mon office meet­ing slide deck. Steve’s were always beau­ti­ful and often nar­rated a story. A suc­cess­ful pre­sen­ta­tion is noth­ing but a story well told. And slides can help you in the sto­ry­telling process if you use it right.

By blam­ing “Pow­er­Point”, Steve is just pok­ing fun at a prod­uct devel­oped by Apple’s com­peti­tor, Microsoft. He could just as well have men­tioned Keynote (or sim­ply ‘slides’) but he didn’t. He phrased his words in a way that peo­ple would iden­tify with and, at the same time, show Apple’s com­peti­tors in a poor light.

That was the genius of Steve Jobs. And every­one fell for it.