Bad Processor Quotes

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Yet very few people realize how badly they write and how badly this hurts them and their career and their company. People are judged on the basis of who they appear to be in their writing, and if what they write is pompous or fuzzy or disorganized they will be perceived as all those things. Bad writing makes bright people look dumb.
William Zinsser (Writing with a Word Processor)
The main reason to use Booki rather than a word processor to write a book is to effectively collaborate with other authors. The book you are reading is my second attempt to do this (and the Spanish translation of my first FLOSS Manual would definitely qualify as a third) so my opinions on this might be worth something. The first thing is that there are good reasons to collaborate and not so good. A good one is that your collaborator can bring expertise to the book that you don't have. A bad one is that you think there will be less work for you if you have a collaborator. There are many human activities where "Many hands make light labor". Writing a book isn't one of them.
James D. Simmons (E-Book Enlightenment: Reading And Leading With One Laptop Per Child)
When they got back to town the hunters had returned and Mel was delighted to see no evidence of murdered wildlife in the truck beds or tied to roofs. But her elation was short-lived, because once inside the bar she learned that they had bagged two bucks, four-by-fours, both of which had already been taken to the meat processor to be butchered. “Oh,” she whined emotionally. “Who did it?” Jack looked at his feet. But he made an attempt. “I think Ricky did it.” Mel met Rick’s eyes and the boy put up two hands, palms toward her. It wasn’t him. Mel leaned against her husband and, unbelievably, started to cry. Jack shook his head, put an arm around her and led her away from the gathering, back toward the kitchen. As he did so, David was bouncing up and down on Mel’s hip, waving his arms wildly and reaching for his dad. “Melinda,” Jack said. “You knew we were going hunting. We didn’t torture the deer. We’re going to have venison.” “I hate it,” she sniveled. “I know you hate it, but it’s not a cruel thing. It’s probably more humane than the way cattle are slaughtered.” “Don’t try to make me feel better about this.” “Jesus, I wouldn’t dare,” he said. “What’s wrong with you?” “I don’t know,” she whimpered. “I’m weepy.” “No shit. Here, let me have him. He’s out of his mind.” “Sugar,” she said. “I should go nurse him.” “He’s going to be riding his bike up to the breast before long.” “He doesn’t want to give it up.” “Understandable. But you’re worn out. Maybe you should go home and go to bed.” “I don’t sleep till he sleeps. And he isn’t going to sleep until he detoxes.” “All right,” Jack said, taking his son. “Go cry or wash your face or nap or something. I’ll hang on to the wild one until he calms down a little.” He kissed her forehead. “This really isn’t like you. Not even over deer.” “By the way, you smell really bad,” she said. “Thank you, my love. You smell really good. I’ll wash this off before I smell the rest of you, how’s that?” She
Robyn Carr (Whispering Rock (Virgin River, #3))
The market's second wild trait-almost-cycles-is prefigured in the story of Joseph. Pharaoh dreamed that seven fat cattle were feeding in the meadows, when seven lean kine rose out of the Nile and ate them. Likewise, seven scraggly ears of corn consumed seven plump ears. Joseph, a Hebrew slave, called the dreams prophetic: Seven years of famine would follow seven years of prosperity. He advised Pharaoh to stockpile grain for bad times to come. And when all passed as prophesied, "Joseph opened all the storehouses, and sold unto the Egyptians...And all countries came into Egypt to Joseph to buy corn; because that the famine was so sore in all lands." Given the profits he and Pharaoh must have made, one might call Joseph the first international arbitrageur. That pattern, familiar from Hurst's work on the Nile, also appears in markets. A big 3 percent change in IBM's stock one day might precede a 2 percent jump another day, then a 1.5 percent change, then a 3.5 percent move-as if the first big jumps were continuing to echo down the succeeding days' trading. Of course, this is not a regular or predictable pattern. But the appearance of one is strong. Behind it is the influence of long-range dependence in an otherwise random process-or, put another way, a long-term memory through which the past continues to influence the random fluctuations of the present.
Benoît B. Mandelbrot (The (Mis)Behavior of Markets)
So which is more probable: That today's atheist apocalyptans are unique and right? Or that they are like their many predecessors—at the very least, in their motivations? If anything, the vehemence with which the believers in emergent complexity debunk all religion may betray their own creeping awareness of the religious underpinnings and precedents for their declarations. In fact, the concept of Armageddon first emerged in response to the invention of monotheism by the ancient Persian priest Zoroaster, around the tenth or eleventh century BCE. Until that time, the dominant religions maintained a pantheon of gods reigning in a cyclical precession along with the heavens, so there was little need for absolutes. As religions began focusing on a single god, things got a bit trickier. For if there is only one god, and that god has absolute power, then why do bad things happen? Why does evil still exist? If one's god is fighting for control of the universe against the gods of other people, then there's no problem. Just as in polytheism, the great achievements of one god can be undermined by the destructive acts of another. But what if a religion, such as Judaism of the First and Second Temple era, calls for one god and one god alone? How do its priests and followers explain the persistence of evil and suffering? They do it the same way Zoroaster did: by introducing time into the equation. The imperfection of the universe is a product of its incompleteness. There's only one true god, but he's not done yet. In the monotheist version, the precession of the gods was no longer a continuous cycle of seasonal deities or metaphors. It was nor a linear story with a clear endpoint in the victory of the one true and literal god. Once this happens, time can end. Creation is the Alpha, and the Return is the Omega. It's all good. This worked well enough to assuage the anxieties of both the civilization of the calendar and that of the clock. But what about us? Without time, without a future, how to we contend with the lingering imperfections in our reality? As members of a monotheist culture—however reluctant—we can't help but seek to apply its foundational framework to our current dilemma. The less aware we are of this process—or the more we refuse to admit its legacy in our construction of new models—the more vulnerable we become to its excesses. Repression and extremism are two sides of the same coin. In spite of their determination to avoid such constructs, even the most scientifically minded futurists apply the Alpha-Omega framework of messianic time to their upgraded apocalypse narratives. Emergence takes the place of the hand of God, mysteriously transforming a chaotic system into a self-organized one, with coherence and cooperation. Nobody seems able to explain how this actually happens.
Douglas Rushkoff (Present Shock: When Everything Happens Now)