If you're only an occasional New Yorker reader then get yourself to your local magazinery and get this issue. There's some marvelous stuff in there. Gladwell on Enron, Denby on the future of cinema, Gopnik on watching and thinking about football.
I especially like the idea Gladwell talks about - the difference between a mystery and a puzzle, not thinking about that distinction causes a lot of the arguments about the efficacy of market research.
I've been reminded how polite and friendly the world of planning etc is. In the three and a bit years I've been doing this blog I think there've only been one or two occasions when I've felt uncomfortable about a comment someone's left on here. (And I have a very low uncomfortable threshold, I hate conversational friction). But every now and then I wonder out into the blogosphere and realise what a vitriolic and contentious place it can be.
I'm a big fan of Mr Noodlepie's for instance, so I check out the stuff he does on Comment Is Free. He wrote this thoughtful little thing about farmer's markets a while back. Fairly uncontentious. But look at all the comments. Spleen. Vitriol. Ignorance. Insult. It's bizarre. Graham seems to shrug it off with good grace, he is after all, a professional journalist, but I have to say, it would put me off writing for them. (Not that that's likely.) Comment Is Free is such a splendidly designed site with such noble intentions. And the atmosphere is being ruined by this weird commenting behaviour. I don't know what the answer is, but it's weird and ugly.
And speaking of weird and ugly, you should see what Steve Sailer is doing over at Malcolm Gladwell's blog. Mr Gladwell wrote this really interesting piece about racism, which provoked a burst of comment from Mr Sailer. And has led to some strange sort of comment wars, and much discussion about whether blogs 'should' have comments. Personally I think everyone's entitled to have exactly the blog they want and if they don't want comments fair enough. I have comments because you lot make the whole thing better but I'd turn them off in a second if you weren't all so funny, interesting and helpful.
And Anil Dash has nailed something similar here - the way the web facilitates the angry, self-righteous blogger/commenter/reviewer arse as much as it facilitates all the reasonable, thoughtful reviews people write. It's so easy to vent online, so easy to complain, moan, laugh and point, and there's very little comeback involved. The normal anti-complaining social pressure isn't brought to bear. So I like the way he names and shames the unreasonable complainer. Good work.
This blogging thing is teaching us all some interesting lessons. About how much we're willing to share (more than you might have suspected), how many interesting ideas people have (more than you might have suspected) and how much effort it takes to run a civilised 'commons' (more than you might have suspected). Reflex angry blogging is easy and normally pointless. Angry commenting is easier and even more pointless. I hope it's something we all grow out of. And I'm glad none of it shows up here.
The thing I love about LOVE is their enthusiasm. A couple of months ago they had no blog, today they're offering to help you start a digital agency, using their blog.
Bless you Matt Jones, his blog alerted me to this. I've got my tickets, I suggest everyone get theirs quickly.
For years I've been complaining about the abuse of the word 'literally'; people using it to mean its opposite. But then I noticed this quote in today's New York Times and I reached a personal tipping point. I'm no longer bothered by it. Because I think it's started on an irrevocable journey to meaning something else. People aren't using it incorrectly. They're using it differently.
I know this kind of argument is as old as the hills and the pedants will always fight with the ' there is no correct usage' people but this is my personal moment on this word. Just so you know.
Someone mentioned to me the other day that headhunters are starting to get really annoyed by everyone just mentioning their job openings on their blogs. I guess it's the flipside of the 'your blog is your resume' effect. With that in mind - Poke are looking for a creative director. Which must be one of the best jobs there is, and they've written one of the smartest, nicest job descriptions you could imagine.
The folk at the Chaos conference were kind enough to ask me to take part and I was very keen to, until something came up. And I was really a bit too late in letting them know, which was rude of me. I feel bad about that. But I feel even worse now because it looks like being a really good show. Damn.
I can't go, but you should. You can sign up here.
We were down at the South Bank yesterday and happened across this Helter Skelter. Good idea a Helter Skelter, we're big fans of them. Ooh, I thought innocent finally has some competent competition.
But then I noticed this laminated exit sign and I realised that feel good just don't get it like innocent do. Innocent would never just write 'exit', they pay attention to the details, they take every opportunity to be who they are and to maybe make you smile. They realise that a brand isn't just a big idea, it's hundreds and hundreds of little ideas, including an idea for a better exit sign.
Plus Innocent's drinks are nicer.
As some previous posts established I drove to Manchester and back this week. Stupid really. About 5 hours each way.
To start with it was logistically stupid, the train took forever and I had to beetle back to London for a conference call on the Friday, getting all stressed out, if I'd been on the train I could have just chatted while sipping a refreshing leaf tea.
And it was obviously environmentally stupid which was made even more obvious to me as I listened to Shared Earth on Radio 4. About carbon offsetting. (So I've been to the Carbon Neutral company and assuaged some of my guilt, though it seems unsatisfactorily un-scientific.)
The problem is I can only really think when I'm driving. I've never found such a conducive environment for ideas, plans and sorting stuff in your head. It's probably some varient of continuous partial attention or a flow state or something, but enough of my brain is occupied with driving, not crashing etc that I dont get bored, but not so much that I can't think through other stuff. I'm not sure that'll happen on a train, I'll start reading or blogging, I won't be able to just think. That's the real benefit of cars; thinking time. And loud music.