{fyi, it’s sunday.

[2:15pm on Sunday, February 21, 2010, My Desk]

[1:50pm on Sunday, February 21, 2010, The Kitchen]

[2:03pm on Sunday, February 21, 2010, The Finished Product]

Sundays are so up in the air, I never know what to expect.   I’m just going to give today the love hate relationship title for now= some pretty decent food and hard core studying for my exam tomorrow.

Barman – San Alejo

{a pretty typical day on state street.

[5:00pm Saturday, February 13, 2010, Madison's own State Street.]

i just joined dailymile.com

Dailymile.com is a website that allows users to create a profile and track/record workouts of all sorts.  The thing I really like about it is that it’s really easy to connect with other athletes in your area.  Based on what you enter as your location, the site generated a news feed (similar to facebook) of workouts logged by people in your area. Hopefully by joining this site I’ll be more motivated to consistently be recording my workouts, a task that will also be necessary for my triathlon training class.  I just joined today, and my friend list doesn’t exist yet.  If you’re on, add me as your friend!

{justice with Michael Sandel

Now you can listent to Harvard lectures too.  without the $35,000 tuition fee.

http://justiceharvard.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=49&Itemid=20

{How to Lose Friends and Irk People

Careerism contaminates this campus

“In the United States it is almost never said that virtue is beautiful,” Alexis de Tocqueville observed. “They maintain that it is useful and they prove it every day.”

By “they” he clearly meant “Harvardians.” Many students here treat morality like a get-rich-quick scheme: They practice virtue to advance their careers. True, some standards are better than none, but this ethical foundation is flimsy. If morality is merely useful, then it is expendable.

Consider: Last Thursday, the Leadership Institute at Harvard College, a student group “devoted to fostering the awareness, skills, and values of leadership among Harvard undergraduates,” held an event entitled, “Self Branding: The Art of Making Yourself Memorable.” The event featured an instructor from Dale Carnegie Training who schooled the dozens of students who attended in “interpersonal competence.” I don’t begrudge the club or the instructor for the effort, but their tips revealed the dark side of our culture.

Our careerist culture. To succeed, we need “brands,” the instructor counseled. Think Energizer Bunny or Jared the Subway Guy. Jared found his “niche market”—eating sandwiches—and now speaks professionally. How did he prepare the course? “He had amazing self-branding,” the instructor concluded. How do you “self-brand”? You sell yourself—or, in business-babble, “network.” Network at class reunions, at office hours, at wedding parties. “There could be CEOs there!” the instructor said.

But to sell yourself successfully, a customer has to buy. Before the event, students received packets with advice on “human relationships.” They learned never to “criticize, condemn, or complain.” Rather, you should encourage “others to talk about themselves” and make “the other person feel important.” If you need reminding, “do it sincerely.” Should someone ever err, “never say ‘you’re wrong.’” Instead, call “attention to people’s mistakes indirectly” and praise “the slightest improvement and praise every improvement.”

In business, this advice makes sense. You want to make money, and often that goal requires massaging people’s egos. Unfortunately, some students extend this approach beyond business. Many administrators do, too. For instance, the Derek Bok Center for Teaching and Learning urges teaching fellows to avoid telling students they’re wrong. One handout suggests that they “encourage students who have given wrong answers by praising them for taking the risk of speaking out.”

The problem with this approach is that it makes us hypersensitive. Students are less likely to challenge teachers—potential references—and teachers are less likely to critique students—potential meltdowns. If the “only way to get the best of an argument is to avoid it”—as the packet asserted—we will avoid arguments worth having. And when we inevitably disagree, we will painfully patronize each other.

Watch a teaching fellow critique a student in section, for example. “You can’t just,” he starts, before realizing “can’t” sounds too negative. “Maybe it would be more effective,” he tries again, until recognizing “more effective” implies you are “less effective.” Finally, he capitulates. “Does anyone else have a different view?”

Or read the perfunctorily positive comments on your papers, like “You’ve written an engaging essay” or “You’ve got an interesting thesis.” That said, you wrote a paper on Bob Marley when you were supposed to write about Jacob Marley: B+. When you are “hearty in your approbation and lavish in your praise”—as the packet advised—people soon realize your praise is halfhearted. They also become so used to your praise that when they hear your criticism, they get insulted.

More seriously, careerism dehumanizes us. Friends and relatives become “contacts.” Marital bonds and professional rivalries become “relationships.” We see everything as a chance to get ahead—or at least to get more. Take this event as an example. At the end of the presentation, the instructor asked attendees to share their thoughts with the group. Hands sat grounded. Then, the instructor offered free copies of the book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People,” to the first eight people to volunteer. Hands shot up like firecrackers.

A frivolous example, yes. But it suggests why “business ethics” can be an oxymoron. When morality is just a step to get ahead, people will leave it behind—should the opportunity arise. And it is unnerving to think that each time you meet someone, he is placing your name in a mental Rolodex. So, to this careerism, here’s my message, my pitch, my “brand,” if you will:

“No thanks.”

(via) Brian J. Bolduc ’10, a Crimson editorial writer, is an economics concentrator in Winthrop House. His column appears on alternate Tuesdays.

{party in the wisco.

With all of my roommates already on their drive home for the break, Tuesday made for a lonely night.  And the creation of my first music video.

C: (12:53pm) I‘m eating a sandwich from over a week ago.  it’s actually pretty okay.  I’m going on a date with Charlie tonight!

Me: (12:54pm) Is it the one from the fridge with the soggy pretzels…where?!

C: (12:56pm) Yes, the pretzels were inedible.  he’s taking me to a play..

Me: (12:58pm)  So I won’t be seeing you tonight… around bedtime, that is.

C: (1:00pm) haha, I have class at 9 tomorrow, so I don’t think that’ll be happening.

Me: (1:04pm)  seriously? missing class vs… an amazing night.  damn.  I  really need to go to Boston…

————————————-

C: (10:39pm)  This one’s for you.

Me: (10:39pm)  omg, I am so honored.  make it a good one.

[a conversation with my roommate via text message. Thursday, November 12, 2009.]

{how bored I have to be to practice the alphabet with my left hand.

Okay– Mercedes is an awesome professor but as much as Spanish civilization piques my interest, I’m sick of listening for an hour and a half  about how we  ‘feel’  about art  produced in  the Age of Gold.  Honestly.  At this point, I’m basically ambidextrous.

{pale blue dot.

Yesterday would have marked Carl Sagan’s 75th birthday.  Look again at that dot, consume and enjoy the profound words from the one and only, Carl Sagan.  Loves you.

Happy Birthday, Carl.

{potentially the best party in the usa.

oh David Fudge, teach me your ways.   MIT, you have some work to do.