Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Bonjour paresse the new French slacker bible, has been getting a ton of press in the UK. It advises a policy of cruising through work, keeping your head down by aiming for minimum productivity, and maximum corporate enculturation. Now while I know that statistically 60% of you are currently reducing your productivity by reading this from work, (heck all of you are reducing your productivity), I would like to take a stand against the message of Bonjour paresse.
Last night for the first time I performed an unsupervised caesarean. That's pretty serious stuff, for me at least. While I knew I was technically able to open the abdomen, deliver the baby, and repair the damage, never before had I done it without the watchful eye of a more experienced surgeon. It's a bit like flying solo for the first time. I'm only three years out of medical school, and it seems like a real accomplishment to be able to handle my own "major" (as in major-op and minor-op). For a moment I was swelled with pride, that I was doing something so eminently skillful when so many of my friends were rotting away in middle management. But the truth is, everyone I know is doing something really skillful. No-one is pushing paper, they are all writing novels, producing TV or movies, programming cutting edge software, and basically pursuing their dreams full tilt. One of my oldest and dearest friends, whose job in emerging market tracking sounds very dry, showed me a copy of his weekly newsletter (don't sign up, it costs almost $2000 a year). Not only is he writing about some extremely techy shizzle in a highly readable way, but he gets to drop mad puns in his headlines. A recent article about Premier of the Chinese State Council Wen Jiabao was subtitled: "Wen's World: Party Time". Not just one genius pun, but two hidden in a single headline.
So despite what Corrine Maier might claim in her guide to goofing off, most people, regardless of career choice, are doing something they really love, and doing it really well. If you are stuck doing something you hate, then I can thoroughly recommend quitting and taking up beekeeping. On the other hand if your escape plan is buying a lottery ticket for tonight, steer clear of 4/16/18/21/32/41 because you'll be sharing the jackpot with me.
Having said all that, it doesn't mean I'm not insanely jealous of my old college mucker Trent Ford who has been staging a veritable international love-fest with Scarlett "I get paid to do this?" Johansson. Unbelievable, he has a decent degree from Cambridge, and he abandons the cerebral life to canoodle with 19 year old (still!) starlets. Bastard. (with thanks to Hydro-Jo for the very thorough linkage.)
The ambient orb is a wireless glowing stock tracker to help dotcom millionires monitor their NASDAQ options. Now the concept has found a broader market with the Wave Pillow. It's an alarm clock/pillow for surfers, that wakes you up by vibrating on an intensity scale determined by local wave heights. Awesome swell? You'll be up early. Flat as a pancake? You get a lie in. Brilliant.
What with it being Castro's 78th Birthday, the Motor Cycle Diaries Movie being imminent, and Che's bloody corpse appearing in this morning's Guardian, I've been discussing Cuba a lot recently. My brother implausibly claimed that Fidel had survived an exploding cigar assasination attempt by the mafia. Closer research reveals that truth is stranger than fiction.
Worst news ever? Big Brother 5 imbecile Jason Cowen is a fan of Nike Air Wovens. That muscly douchebag will ruin it for the cool kids like me. Incidentally my collection has severely stalled at 18 pairs. If I'm ever going to pick up the remaining 23 pairs, I'll need to crack Yahoo.co.jp auctions. At the moment I'm hamstrung by a lack of Japanese skills, and the reluctance of the sellers to ship overseas. If anyone knows a kind soul in Tokyo who'd be prepared to place proxy bids, and smuggle rare kicks through customs on my behalf, I'd be eternally grateful.
Last night for the first time I performed an unsupervised caesarean. That's pretty serious stuff, for me at least. While I knew I was technically able to open the abdomen, deliver the baby, and repair the damage, never before had I done it without the watchful eye of a more experienced surgeon. It's a bit like flying solo for the first time. I'm only three years out of medical school, and it seems like a real accomplishment to be able to handle my own "major" (as in major-op and minor-op). For a moment I was swelled with pride, that I was doing something so eminently skillful when so many of my friends were rotting away in middle management. But the truth is, everyone I know is doing something really skillful. No-one is pushing paper, they are all writing novels, producing TV or movies, programming cutting edge software, and basically pursuing their dreams full tilt. One of my oldest and dearest friends, whose job in emerging market tracking sounds very dry, showed me a copy of his weekly newsletter (don't sign up, it costs almost $2000 a year). Not only is he writing about some extremely techy shizzle in a highly readable way, but he gets to drop mad puns in his headlines. A recent article about Premier of the Chinese State Council Wen Jiabao was subtitled: "Wen's World: Party Time". Not just one genius pun, but two hidden in a single headline.
So despite what Corrine Maier might claim in her guide to goofing off, most people, regardless of career choice, are doing something they really love, and doing it really well. If you are stuck doing something you hate, then I can thoroughly recommend quitting and taking up beekeeping. On the other hand if your escape plan is buying a lottery ticket for tonight, steer clear of 4/16/18/21/32/41 because you'll be sharing the jackpot with me.
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