We Are Jerks. Or, How the Confrontation Went, in Alternate-Reality-Land

Ah, MLMs. Golden opportunities for average joes like you and me to work like crazy to make other people rich. But other than that, not much at all like a legitimate business.

The curse of Mozy is to rent office space next door to an MLM company. Granted, this is not too difficult in Utah County, MLM capital of the world. Still, it makes one wonder what evil the founder may have done for Mozy to be cursed so.

Us on the bottom floor of the new Mozy building have the distinct privilege of sharing the floor with an MLM company, whose name will be withheld here synergistically to protect them, where "privilege" is like unto the privilege that Braveheart experienced to be disemboweled in public as penitence for his sin of wanting to be left alone, much like us.


MLMs are built upon the premise of getting rich without having to do anything. Everything is about appearance and affluence with MLMs. As I type we've got people pulling up in their rented black Mercedes or BMW to come in to yet another open house and try to impress each other. These guys act like they own the whole building, because that is part of the image they are trying to put forth. They are right this moment holding yet another open house which consumes the entire main entrance and main entrance foyer. This is done without any announcement, let alone request for permission, to the other tenants in the building - certainly not those of us on the main floor who share the foyer, entryway, elevators and bathroom. In fact, they are the smallest tenant in the building, but they act like they own the whole thing.


So it is really no surprise, especially to those familiar with Mozy culture, that someone finally had enough the other day and posted a little 8 1/2 x 11 picture comparing regular MLM-style magic juice with "Mozy juice" in such manner that the people across the hall could read it, if they walked up close enough. It is true that the sign made reference to magic juice, special berries picked by monk children high in the mountains in the early morning, and pyramid schemes in general. It did not mention our neighbors by name or necessarily even imply that they were related at all.
Actually the sign is pretty funny.

So I walk out the door for the purpose of conducting natural personal waste removal, and I'm accosted by a representative of said neighbor, demanding in polite tone that I take the sign down. So from here on, I'm going to describe the confrontation, which proves that we are jerks, although I do freely admit that I may be making some of this up.

Neighbor Enraged, Requiring Discipline: Hey, I'd like you to please take that sign down, it is offensive.
Me: What sign?
NERD: (pointing to the sign) That sign you guys posted attacking our company. It is disrespectful and offensive. I don't know why you would put something like that up, and I would like you to take it down.
Me: Well, I wasn't even aware that the sign was there until just now. I don't even know what it says.
NERD: It is offensive to our company. I would take it down myself, but I can't because it is taped on the other side of a window and the door is locked.
Me: So, if the door wasn't locked, you would just walk into our part of the building and take it down? You believe that if the sign is offensive that gives you the right to walk into our part of the building, where we are creating and discussing trade secrets and intellectual property, and take the sign down because you don't like it?
NERD: Well, I would just like you to take it down.
Me: You have a pretty big display of stuff inside your office doors. Some of those displays might be offensive to me. Should I just walk in there and take down whatever offends me also?
NERD: No. Alright. I wouldn't just walk into your part of the building. Will you take the sign down please?
Me: Well, I didn't put the sign up. It would be presumptuous of me to assume I can just take it down without consulting with whomever put it up in the first place.
NERD: You mean you can't just take it down?
Me: No. I can communicate your temper tantrum within the company and see if whomever put it up wants to remove it.
NERD: I don't see why you can't just remove it. It's disrespectful.
Me: You know what is disrespectful? You guys, holding your big open houses in the foyer of the building all the time. You invite people in, you take over the entryway and the entire lobby, which are all public areas of the building, but you treat them like they belong only to you. You make it so we don't feel comfortable even using our own restroom or walking out our own front door.
NERD: Well, I'm really sorry we do that.
Me: No offense, but you are apologizing as a part of trying to get me to do you a favor. I have no way of knowing whether you really mean it or not.
NERD: I still don't understand why you won't just take the sign down.
Me: For reasons that I cannot explain and are really none of your business anyway, I'm not at liberty to just take down a sign that I didn't put up.
NERD: But that sign is offensive!
Me: That's an opinion. What about the sign exactly is offensive to you?
NERD: Well, it is making fun of our product.
Me: (reading briefly) It says here it is talking about "magic juice."
NERD: Yes, exactly.
Me: Do you sell magic juice?
NERD: No! Calling it "magic" is derogatory. We sell fruit-juice for health-conscious individuals that conveys special healing powers.
Me: How much is this juice?
NERD: $42.25 per bottle.
Me: So, your juice is not magic juice?
NERD: No!
Me: Okay. So it sounds to me like you charge over $40 for regular fruit juice, and that this sign doesn't apply to you. This sign is talking about magic juice. But you just sell atrociously expensive regular juice.
NERD: Um..
Me: Right?
NERD: Well, there's a phrase in that sign that talks about pyramid schemes designed to prey upon the naive and greedy.
Me: So?
NERD: That offends me.
Me: Is your business a pyramid scheme that preys upon the naive and greedy?
NERD: That's beside the point.
Me: No, it is the point. Either that phrase describes your business factually, or it doesn't describe you at all. Either way, you should not be offended.
NERD: Well, it IS offensive!
Me: Look, a statement saying that pyramid schemes prey upon the naive and greedy is a fact. it is like someone telling me, "Matt, your hair is going gray." That is a fact. There's no reason to be offended by that. If someone were to tell me, "Matt, your hair is turning pink," that also is not offensive, because it is not true. Either way, it's not offensive.
NERD: But...
Me: I think what you find "offensive" is not really offensive, but disconcerting. You're afraid the naive and greedy people that come in here to do business with you will find out the truth about your business. You're afraid they will find out they have been deceived, and that in fact the whole business model is based upon deceiving people.
NERD: (threatening) Now look here. You'd better get in there and take down that sign, or...

Just then, as he started vigorously towards me, I snapped my fingers. Around the corner walked a half-dozen large, smelly, long-haired guys dressed in black slacks, black shoes, white socks, and black Apple t-shirts. Yes - the Black Ponytails. Mice and keyboards started flailing about as the severe beatings began.

Suffice it to say, I thought we had an understanding. The broken tiles in the foyer were replaced this morning. Yet, today another open-house was held in the foyer. I may need to call those friends of mine again...

SUPERDELL for Utah Governor

I wish to express, for the record, my statement of support for Dell "Superdell" Schanze for governor of Utah. He is the most righteous and responsible choice.







HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!



Seriously, Superdell. Quit embarrassing us. No wonder the rest of the country thinks Utahns are wackos.

Don't forget to read his blog. And don't hesitate to comment, this should be greatly entertaining.

Moral Obligations of the Socially Superior

I am obviously the smartest and most socially competent person I know, but that is not nearly so easy as one might think.  I'm constantly concerned about making sure that I am fulfilling my responsibility to society - giving back by helping people to realize how ignorant they are, pointing out their flaws and foolishness to motivate them to become somewhat normal.  Problem is, despite my towering intellect, I'm not always sure of the best course of action in certain situations.

Take, for example, the situation that occured to me today.  I was at the grocery store, ready to leave and selecting a checkout aisle.  As I'm approaching an aisle, I notice another guy walking toward me doing the same thing - looking for a checkout aisle.  As I'm eyeing the nearest aisle, he sees me considering it, and immediately launches into a jog so he can beat me to the checkout lane.  As he trots into the lane he looks at me with a look on his face that says, "And what are you going to do about it?"

So I acted like it didn't bother me, because it didn't.  In fact, the only thing I really felt was a great deal of sympathy for someone who is apparently not too bright.  I walked down to the next lane - one this fellow passed up so he could run in front of me into the lane he chose, keep in mind - and purchased my goods.  I gathered my bags and started walking out.  And as I was leaving, I walked past the other checkout lane, and saw said mentally disadvantaged fellow still standing in the checkout lane he had worked so hard to obtain.

So what is my societal and moral obligation here?  I'm not sure what I should be expected to do.  And this has really been bothering me ever since because I'm not sure I left that situation the way I should have, the way I am obligated to because of my superiority.  What I actually did was to grin a bit smugly at him as I strutted by, but I'm not sure that was enough.  Should I have laughed out loud?  Should I have pointed at him and told others around him what a dork he was?  Should I have asked him what his problem was, or taunted him mercilessly?  Will my actions be enough for him to realize his foolishness, or should I have done more to help him realize his lameness?

Choose Your Children's Names Carefully

I firmly believe that the name you choose for a child seals their earthly destiny - primarily, in what career they are going to have. For example, if you name your son "Hank" he will be forced to become an automobile mechanic; if you name your daughter "Janice" she will be forced to become a receptionist.

As evidence I point you to this webpage. What else could this person grow up to be but a lawyer??

Cult of the Mac Blood Brother @ WWDC, Day 5

I really like these black Dockers. They match perfectly with my black belt and my black t-shirts I've received all during the conference. And I must say I think I look quite stunning with my black shoes and white socks.

First thing this morning, after the wardrobe improvements, I walked down Market St. to the Apple Store. I bought a new Macbook Pro with several performance upgrades. I placed it gently in the beautiful, sleek, new laptop carrying bag that I was provided when I registered for the conference.

I'm still not significantly overweight, nor do I have enough hair for a ponytail, yet. But I'm working on it. I didn't even shower today.

I walked into Moscone West this morning. It didn't take me long to find the Black Ponytails. I approached them resolutely. They regarded me with some reservation as I opened my laptop bag, intentionally displaying the new laptop I had purchased that day, which I hoped to be able to pay for later, and extracted the document they had left with me the night before.

I handed it to the leader of the group. He took it with suspicion, and immediately scanned his sight to the bottom of the page, where he saw my fingerprint, imprinted upon the document in my own blood.

He smiled. "Welcome, brother." I smiled back, then turned and walked away.

A calming, satisfied smile settled across my face. Paraphrasing Winston Smith, I thought to myself, "I love Mac."

An Apple n00b @ WWDC, Day 4

Day 4 was a pretty interesting day. For starters, I took this picture. This guy's name is Mike; he works for Apple's developer relations program. His job is akin to what I did for many years at Novell. Except, Mike is successful at his job, whereas I could never get Novell to do the things that would have made Novell successful. Or me. Now you know one of the reasons I am not at Novell anymore.

Anyway, I took this picture not for that reason, but for another reason. I can't tell you how many times people have e-mailed me asking, "Matt, what would your brother look like if he gained 40 pounds?" Well, stop asking and just take a look at this picture. Now you know.

Sort of. It is rather grainy, I admit.

Later that day I went by Dan's hotel to see what his room was like. Dan called the St. Regis Hotel and somehow managed to score a room rate of about 1/2 the normal $500-$600 per night rate. I called the same hotel within about 10-15 minutes and could not get the same rate - in fact I was told it was not possible.

Apparently they have a different understanding of "not possible" than what I have. Anyway, Dan had a corner room with an incredible view of downtown San Francisco:

The second picture is just to the left of the first, showing a great view of the Moscone Center and Yerba Buena Gardens. WWDC hosts a big bash in Yerba Buena Gardens on Thursday night, which was tonight, in the gardens. It was a great frolicking time. In fact, I was having such a great time that I lost track of where I was and forgot to take what you by now would assume would be my normal precautions. Instead, I suddenly found myself alone in a dark and remote corner of the gardens, surrounded by none other than the Black Ponytails.

I once heard that the reason Metallica kicked Dave Mustaine out early in the band's history was because when the other guys would get drunk, they would just get really silly, but when Dave would get drunk, he would get angry. Well, suffice it to say that the Black Ponytails would also not get along with Metallica when they are drunk. When you combine free alcohol, the Black Ponytails, an Apple n00b like me, and the darkest, remotest corner of Yerba Buena, you end up with a dozen substantial embodiments combining to form about 3000 pounds of black Mac fury. Believe me, I was petrified.

"Well, if it isn't the Linux baby," one of them taunted as they surrounded me and backed me into the corner.

"Now, guys, I'm not meaning to cause any trouble here," I said, before I was blasted upside the head with a copy of Cocoa Programming for Mac OS X, 2nd Edition that had been hurled at me.

"Shut up, Linux baby. You don't get to talk," one of them hissed from the other side.

The leader continued. "Look, you freak. Nobody invited you here. Nobody wants you here. You think you can just show up here because you paid?!? You don't have true devotion! You don't truly love Apple! You aren't dedicated to making Steve Jobs ridiculously wealthy! We can see it in your eyes."

As he spoke, they all opened up their black backpacks and pulled out USB mice and stylish thin Mac keyboards. Those with the mice held onto the end of the cable while the mouse itself dropped down, dangling from their hands. Those with the keyboards grabbed one end with both hands and held it up in front of them, like a baseball bat. They were closing in, closer and closer. The air reeked of fear and 3000 pounds of body odor. I tried to remain calm, but panic started to set in. Didn't anybody see me? Didn't Zach and Dan know I was gone? Was there nobody to help me?

"You aren't one of us. You don't belong here. And now you are going to pay."

With that the blows started coming, harder, harder, and faster. Mouse and keyboard buttons were flying everywhere as the blows came in. I crumpled to the ground. My head was throbbing from the blows of the mice hitting my head, being used like medieval maces. I raised my hands to try to deflect the flailing mice, but then I felt the hard, crushing blows as the keyboards hit my ribs and back, held sideways so that I was being struck by the edges and corners, thus inflicting maximum damage. I felt bruises turn into welts, then blood blisters, and finally open, bleeding wounds. I could hear the occasional sickening crack of ribs when a particularly well-aimed keyboard struck exactly right. I curled up, drawing my legs up towards me, which elicited numerous jeering cries of "Linux baby! Linux baby!" Still, the hurling mice seemed to find their way inside my defenses. Now partially broken apart, the remaining plastic fragments on the mouse bodies would cut, grab, and tear at my flesh, leaving small stabbing and cutting wounds all over my face, head, hands, and back.

After what seemed an eternity but was probably only five to ten minutes, they finally stopped and stood back a pace. I lay immobile for some seconds, trying to determine if it was finally over. But just as I'd determined they were done, just as I moved to start to get up, the leader snapped his fingers loudly, and on that signal two of them stepped in, pinned me down and forced my hands behind my back, tying them tightly together with mouse cables. They stood me up and held me between them.

The leader bent down and pulled my laptop out of my case. He looked it over with an air of superiority and disdain. Then he finally looked at me. "You see this laptop?"

"Yes," I panted. "Please. Come on, just leave me alone. I'll leave."

He laughed a short, scoffing laugh, and took a step toward me. "This laptop is a..." - he cocked his arms back, ready to swing - "PIECE" - he struck me forcefully with the laptop across my head where I immediately felt warm blood gushing from the newly opened wound - "OF" - the backswing caught me full in the face as the taste of blood flooded my mouth - "CRAP!" - he brought the laptop up and shattered it over the top of my head.

My head was throbbing like nothing I had ever felt before. I was so dizzy I could hardly stand or even retain consciousness. I spat blood from my mouth just for it to fill up again. It hurt to breathe against the wounds in my back and sides. I could barely see past swollen eyes and cheekbones. My hands ached where I knew bones were broken. Blood ran freely down my face and pooled on the ground below.

The two Black Ponytails continued to hold me upright while the leader turned and went back to his backpack. He pulled out what appeared to be a piece of parchment paper. Between the throbbing in my head, the intense blackness of the darkest regions of Yerba Buena, and the lights flashing in my eyes from the blows to my head, I really could not tell what it was.

The leader came back. With a smug grin on his face he strutted up to me. He grabbed my hair and lifted my head up, shoving the paper in front of my face. "You see this paper?" he said. "You wanna read this paper. You wanna do what it says, and sign it. And you wanna find me tomorrow and bring it to me. You wanna do it, Linux baby. Or we're gonna finish what we started here tonight."

Keeping hold of my hair with his left hand, he dropped the paper on the ground in front of me. Then, suddenly, he pulled back and punched me with the full force of his fist right in the nose. I felt the bones break as I struggled to breathe, my nasal cavity filling up with blood.

The two that were holding me up finally let me go. I collapsed to the ground as the Black Ponytails dispersed into the night. Just before I lost consciousness, I was barely able to make out the words atop the paper on the ground in front of me. They read:

THE CULT OF THE MAC
To Be Signed In Blood

An Apple n00b @ WWDC, Day 3

Day 3 at WWDC, well, I was admittedly a little bit afraid to even head back there today. It seems like I keep running into those Black Ponytails. Usually it is only just one of them at a time, but I was a bit concerned what might happen if I ran into all of them at once.

However, it seemed that the day would go pretty well. I walked in to Moscone West and noticed that nearly all of the slobber had evaporated off of the bust of Steve. I attended some great sessions and picked up some ultra-top-secret software provided to all attendees that I can't discuss or even admit publicly that I have. I even stopped at the Apple Store and bought myself an Apple T-shirt, wondering aloud at the fact that Apple could get people to buy their t-shirts at their own conference when at Novell we had to give them away to get anyone to take them (with the exception of the awesome "Got Linux?" t-shirts, those were really special).

It was the last session of the day and I'd done pretty good at keeping myself out of trouble. My final session of day 3 had to do with scripting on the Mac. When we got to Q&A, I stood up to ask my question:

"Eric is a really great Python IDE available as open source on Linux. Have you considered providing and supporting Eric on Mac in your developer tools? That would really be awesome."

About the time I muttered the word "Linux," every head in the audience turned on a swivel to scowl menacingly in my direction. Displaying obvious disdain and exercising the greatest of patience, the presenter took a deep breath and then replied measuredly: "Xcode is already a great Python tool. There is no need for Mac to attempt to copy anything that is being done by Linux."

I apologized and turned to sit down, but not before I noticed the Black Ponytails sitting a number of rows ahead of me.

I tried to leave the session quickly but my exits seemed blocked at every turn, almost as though it were a coordinated effort. Finally I exited and started my long walk up the corridor toward the common area. Suddenly I found myself surrounded by Black Ponytails.

"Hey, check it out, it's the Linux boy!"

"Yeah Linux boy! Maybe we should make the Mac more like Linux! Lol!" (Yes, he really said "lol".)

They all laughed as the started shoving me back and forth between them. Mockingly, one said, "Ooh, check me out! I compile my own kernel!"

"Looky what I can do! I know how to use a command line!" sneered another.

Then with another shove they got serious. "Look here, you Linux baby! You infant! Linux is nothing compared to FreeBSD! Compared to Darwin, the core upon which heaven's own OS is based - Mac OS X!"

"Hey, guys, I know! I like FreeBSD! I just come from a Linux background, that's all!" I protested.

"Shut your hole, Linux baby. Who invited you here anyway?" With that, I felt a huge shove in the back and fell into the sizable girth of the guy in front of me. "Who said you could touch me, Linux baby?" he threatened.

Just when I thought all hope was lost, I heard Dan and Zach call out to me, "Hey Matt!" The Black Ponytails looked around casually, then dispersed as if by a signal. I had escaped certain demise.

I spent the rest of the evening at the Apple Design Awards and the Stump the Experts night. I thought perhaps if the Black Ponytails saw me there they would realize that I really wasn't such a bad guy. Unfortunately, I'm not sure they saw me; they were on the other side of the very large room, engaged in what seemed to be a very intense coding session. But maybe they caught a glimpse; maybe they will still give me a chance.

An Apple n00b @ WWDC, Day 2

Anyone who has seen Wayne's World knows that you never want to be that guy that wears the shirt of the band to the concert of the same band. I thought the same rule would apply at WWDC. I mean, of course by day two I had already received two new black Apple t-shirts, but I did not think that I would be expected to wear them during the conference. I found this not to be true, however, as I arrived at the show the second day and found that everyone was wearing one of their new black t-shirts, except for me.

So I guess it goes without saying that the Black Ponytails spotted me without problem. I had not even noticed them as I sat down in the session I was attending that afternoon. I pulled out my Dell laptop. I mean, I know it is an Apple conference. But surely they don't expect everyone to have a Macbook, do they?

Well, apparently they do. I hadn't even finished logging in to my laptop when I was struck in the back of the head by something small and hard. At first I thought it was a rock, but when I turned around and looked I saw it was a small USB thumb drive. Not far behind me were the Black Ponytails. One sneered at me and suggested, using unkind words not appropriate for polite company, that perhaps I should put my laptop away. I obliged, wondering why these people just could not be accepting of someone new.

An Apple n00b @ WWDC, Day 1

Day 1 of WWDC was Monday, June 9, and it started of with the keynote by Steve Jobs. Even though we checked in on Sunday night, we decided to risk it and not get in line for the keynote until about 6:00 a.m. the following morning. So we showed up Monday morning at 6:00 a.m. for the 10:00 a.m. keynote. We found our place in line in a dark alley behind the Moscone Center, hundreds of yards from the door, but fortunately we were there in time to see the keynote anyway.

After some time they started letting us in to the building as we progressed through the various waiting locations. When we entered the building, everyone had to stop and kiss the bronze bust of Steve in the lobby entryway. I was reluctant, in part because it seemed a bit zealous, and in part because by the time I got there it was already dripping in saliva. But everyone was doing it so I just gave in.

It was at this point I saw some guys not far ahead of us in line. One of them happened to look back right as I offered what must have been an obviously obligatory, insincere kiss to the bust of Steve. He glared at me and then started whispering to his friends.

They all looked roughly the same: Each was quite substantially overweight; each wore black cotton slacks with a black belt and a black t-shirt that declared devotion to Apple in some way; each wore black shoes with white socks. Each had long hair pulled back into a ponytail, with a smattering of dandruff scattered notably on their shoulders. Each carried a laptop bag and an iPhone. I smiled weakly as he pointed me out to the other five or so in his little group. They just glared back at me.

Just then the line started moving. They left me alone as the line progressed. Here you can see a picture of all the people less devoted than we were:
Our group rustled our way up the stairs as we drew ourselves closer and closer to that mecca known as Presidio. It is admittedly hard to walk quietly when you are wearing a sanitary undergarment for the relief of incontinence. Personally, being a n00b, I had chosen not to wear one, failing to see the need. But the others felt it necessary; who knew what would happen at the keynote?!?

Finally, after hours of waiting, we arrived!

We were really inside the WWDC Keynote! And, we could almost see the stage from where we were. Those around me struggled to contain their emotions as the starting time approached, while I struggled to locate a place where I could get a snack.

Finally, Steve Jobs himself walked out onto the stage. Many thoughts filled my brain, such as, "His voice is a lot higher-pitched than I imagined." Everyone managed to maintain control until he announced the new price of the iPhone: only $199. People all around me burst into tears and into their sanitary undergarments as the room filled with a grateful chorus: "Thank you, Steve! Oh, thank you!"

I was also pleased; the new iPhone was only 1/2 as unaffordable to me as it was before. In fact, I began to feel some inklings of devotion to Apple plant themselves into my heart. It made me nervous, so I quickly uprooted these tiny seedlings. Still, I was oddly feeling compelled to purchase a brand new MacBook Pro, so I would have something to put into the laptop bag I had been given at conference registration.

I walked back to the hotel amidst the rustling throng of exuberant, delighted conference attendees. Each emanated a happy smile from their face and the smell of byproduct from their nether-regions. It made me glad that they were so happy. Then I caught site of the Black Ponytails again. They glared at me as I walked by. Perhaps they could detect a distinct lack of rustle as I walked? Perhaps they could detect the distinct lack of odor wafting out behind me? Perhaps they could tell that I took a shower that morning? Whatever it was, apparently I was not fooling anyone. I tried to ignore them as I walked by, but I'm looking over my shoulder now.

Understanding Generative Thinking Part 3 (or, How to Prove Your Point with Diagrams)

(If you have not read parts one and two, you probably should do that first.)

One of the great things about generative thinking is that it allows you to prove your point with diagrams. Notice here that I did not say, "demonstrate" your point. I said "prove" your point.

With generative thinking, if you like, you can draw a diagram that discusses your point. This is not that big of a deal. The big deal is, if anyone disagrees with your point, you can reference the diagram you just drew as proof that you are right!
Remember, part of generative thinking is that they have to accept whatever you say without questioning it. And don't forget the advantages of shouting!

Here is a real world example of how this actually happened. I am not making this up. I have several witnesses that can vouch for the validity of this experience.

The topic of discussion was, communicating issues between individual contributors and management. The question was asked, "I don't always feel comfortable communicating problems to my upper management. Sometimes I am asked to do something; I see a problem, but I am unsure how to communicate this problem to them effectively. Do you have any suggestions?"

It is very important that you do not forget this question, because it will NEVER BE ANSWERED.

Here is how the question was addressed.

"Well, let's take a look at this. What you don't want to do is try to solve problems. I'll show you." And she drew this picture. "See, here you have your problems."


"There's something about problems. What do problems lead to?"
We answered, "Solutions."
"That's right. Solutions." And she drew this next picture.


Then she went on. "See, the thing about problems is, in order to address the problems, we come up with solutions to the problems. But what happens when you come up with solutions? You simply find more problems!" And she drew this picture.

At this point, one person in the class took exception. "Uhh, well, I don't agree. Sometimes, you identify a problem, and you solve it, and it just stays solved. Then you move on."

Silly student! That is thinking about, not thinking for! The instructor of generative thinking is always right!

She returned to the board again. "No, I'm sorry, that is not correct. As you can see here on the board, problems lead to solutions, which lead back to problems. It is a vicious cycle. You don't want to get caught up in trying to solve problems!"

Let me just say that not only will you not get very far telling software engineers, whose job it is to solve problems, that solving problems is a no-win game and a bad idea, but also it didn't really fool anyone that she had just drawn a picture, and then used the picture to prove her point of view. Very interesting!


She went on. "Instead of trying to solve problems, you want to identify the 'what's so.'" She drew this picture. "You separate the fact from your opinion. That is what it means to identify the what's so."

(See, you can't trademark the word "facts." I wouldn't be surprised if "what's so" is a trademarked term.)


Next she drew this picture. "When you identify the what's so, then you come up with what's possible. This opens you up to discover creative ways of addressing the what's so." You see, no solutions to problems are ever creative!

Anyway, because you have identified the "what's so" and have now had many edifying conversations about "what's possible," I'm sure you are wondering what happens next. So were we.


"Now that you know what's so and what's possible, the great thing about this is, it invites solutions." And she drew this picture.

No, I'm not kidding.

We looked on in astonishment as we saw that we had just completed a larger circle. Most of us were truly trying to see this from her point of view and validate it. But we couldn't help but notice that all we did is add two extra steps to the infinite loop we had originally!

As best I can tell, what this picture points out is the following: "Problems lead to solutions, which only lead back to more problems. This is how you address problems on your own. If you want to involve management, you must first identify the what's so. Then you communicate it to management who tells you what's possible. What's possible might include things like, "If you don't solve that problem, it is very possible that you will get fired." Or, "If you don't have enough time to solve that problem, it is very possible that you will need to work late nights." Such possibilities obviously invite you to come up with a solution, any solution, to the problem.
And you're right back where you started.

The moral of the story is, involving management in problem solving involves twice as many steps and takes twice as long. Otherwise, you can spin faster if you just deal with it yourself!


I related this story to my friend Brandon. After he wiped the tears from his eyes and got his breath back, he posited the following:

"The thing is, a problem is not an oval, it is a triangle. Each side of the triangle represents the three sides of the problem - my side, your side, and the truth. We draw a line out of each side of the triangle to represent the three sides of the problem. There is a circle that touches each of these lines. The circle represents you. Outside of you is a larger circle. This represents upper management. To solve a problem, then, you simply draw dots in the space between you and upper management. There. Problem solved."

Here is the picture he drew:



We now call this the Hubcap Methodology of solving problems. And don't go using it all over the place, willy-nilly. We are trademarking it.

Understanding Generative Thinking Part 2 (or, How To Teach Without Lesson Planning)

One of the really great things about teaching generative thinking is that it doesn't require a lesson plan. (See Part 1 of this series if you haven't already.)

It doesn't require a lesson plan, because you start out by telling the audience that they just have to accept what you say as a valid point of view, and they aren't allowed to question it or debate. This makes it so you can get paid to pontificate, philosophise, and otherwise b.s. your audience about whatever your opinion is on anything you want. They will just sit there and try to make sense of whatever drivel falls out of your mouth, knowing that they can't question or debate it.

When you are done talking, nobody will dare say anything, because what they want to say is, "What in the crap are you talking about?" But only you are allowed to say such things. Either that, or they are expecting you to continue, because they expect you to make a point. But you don't really have a point, other than to talk about whatever enters your head. So you can sit there in silence for a while. After a while, you can say, "You people are not thinking loud enough." What this really means is, "Someone make a comment, so I can philosophise about it."

Now you might be wondering, "But what happens if someone expresses an idea that I don't want to talk about, or asks a question that I don't know the answer to?" Ah, my young Padowan. Fear not! It is at this point that you pull out some of your key phrases, like, "You don't have to understand it. Understanding is the booby prize," or, "You need to remember to listen and speak for, not listen and speak about." This last one is very key, since nobody in the room knows the difference between the two, and you never explain it to them. And since it is against the rules to try to understand or question it, they have to just accept it.
Another technique at this point is to begin the insults. For example, say, "I can't believe how insistent you guys are at getting off topic." This will let the audience know that the comment was not appropriate. They may not know what the topic is, but they know that the last comment was NOT the topic.

What they haven't learned yet is that the topic is whatever YOU want to talk about. The comment was on something that you don't want to talk about. Obviously that makes it off topic.


You might believe this to be made up, but I swear this actually happened. After coming back from a break, the instructor leads off the discussion basically by asking, "What have you guys been thinking about what we've been learning?" You might assume this is intended to be a 10-minute segue into the topic at hand, but no - this WAS the topic at hand, apparently, as we discussed apparently whatever the instructor wanted to talk about for over one hour. Then someone made a comment or asked some sort of question. The response came back, "You know, I cannot believe how devoted you guys are to getting the conversation off topic. We are trying to head somewhere, but you guys are bound and determined to dive down ratholes and spin on off-topic conversations."

To which we replied: "How can we go off topic when we don't know what we are even talking about or what we are trying to achieve?"

As best we could tell, it was off-topic if it was about something the instructor didn't want to talk about.


So again, this is a powerful tool. You could get paid to train people without actually teaching them anything. For example, you could make up a bunch of stuff about how similar the world economy is to a Chia Pet, or why gravity is a farce. If anyone disagrees with you, you can reprimand them for not listening to your point of view and accepting it as valid for you. If they ask a question about it, you can remind them that understanding is not the purpose. And if you get tired of talking about it, you can just be silent, and wait for them to say something. If they bring up something you want to talk about, you can talk about it. You are even welcome to disagree, if you like; as you'll remember, you don't have to follow your own rules. Or, if it is something you don't want to talk about, you can just claim that it is off-topic.

This way you can talk about whatever you want and get paid for it.

Understanding Generative Thinking, Part 1 (or, How To Get Paid To Teach Bunk)

I just finished a training course on generative thinking. Before I go any further, I must say that I feel I did learn skills, techniques, and information of value in this course. So if you ever are asked to take such a course, I'd say to do it; just be aware of what it is. To be clear - there is some value here.

I also have to say this is probably (and intended to be) the first of a series of blogs about this. It's too much information for one blog, and I have to get this written down in order to calm down about it.


Okay. Now, to talk about Generative Thinking Part 1, or How To Get Paid To Teach Bunk. Don't take this to mean that the whole thing is bunk. For example, you will find that this is a sort of a Jedi mind trick to help you win arguments.


1. Build a basis that defines itself with circular logic. For example, a basis where, in order to use what you learn, you have to first put it into practice; in order to understand it, you first have to make sense of it, etc. In this case, make a claim that you are going to teach techniques on how to communicate effectively, and then require them to master these skills before they can learn them.
2. Establish a precedent for listening. This is an important piece of foundational information which sets a stage where only you have the right to talk. Express that in the class you will be presenting an idea that they need to just try to accept as a possible reality. This will come in useful later.
3. Invent a vocabulary. Use phrases like "listen for, don't listen about" and "give granted trust, not earned trust" that don't really make any sense. Explain to the class that what this means is that you just decide to listen to and accept another point of view as valid for them. What you really mean is that you are exerting the right to say whatever you want and the class rescinds their right to question not only your information but also your reasoning.
4. Claim that understanding is the "booby prize." I recommend you specifically use these words. This way, whenever someone asks a question such as, "I don't understand what you just said," you can use this so you don't have to repeat yourself. Instead of trying again to teach it, you can simply say, "Well, understanding is the booby prize. You don't need to understand it."
5. Claim that things are the way you perceive them because you say so. By the way, you have to subtly make it clear that this rule only applies to you, not everyone. If you explicitly say so, they might call you on it, in which case you'll have to resort to rule 6. If you are subtle about it, they might not figure it out until the class is over.
6. If things don't go your way, use emotion, shouting, threats, and/or insults to get your way. Most people will respect an instructor as a position of authority without requiring any demonstration of why they should respect you. So you can use these manipulations as a way to guilt them into submission. For example, if someone asks a question that you don't want to answer, you can say something like, "I can't figure out what is wrong with you people, why you always have to understand everything." Or, if the question they ask exposes a flaw in your teaching, you can become angry, shout at them in front of the whole class, and claim (at a high volume) how disappointed you are that, after all this time, they still insist on being argumentative instead of just listening to what you have to say. You might think this is a bit hypocritical, but move on to #7.
7. You don't have to obey your own rules. You can pick and choose when you want to obey them. For example, you can tell the class that while two people are conversing, everyone else has to listen; but you can interrupt if you want to. You can explain to people that they should take emotion out of their confrontations, but then you can become angry, rude, and condescending (see #6). You can insist that people listen to you, and yet when they talk, you don't have to actually listen to their point of view; instead, you can claim that they are not listening to you.
8. Master key phrases. Some of them are, "You are putting words in my mouth." "That is your opinion, not a fact." "You aren't listening, you insist on arguing with me." Here is an example of how to use them:
Student: "I have a concern about what you have said. If I were to do that, I would get fired."
You: "That is your opinion, not a fact."
Student: "Well, no, it is a fact, because my boss told me, 'If you do that, you are fired.'"
You: "You aren't listening, you insist on arguing with me."
Student: "I feel like you aren't listening to me. You said that I should do (x), and all I did was express a concern about my job."
You: "You are putting words into my mouth."
Student: "No I'm not, I'm trying to understand what you said."
You: "Understanding is the booby prize. This is not about understanding."
Student: "Well, I don't know how I can use something if I don't understand it."
(This is the point at which you start shouting.)
You (shouting): "I have never, in all my years of teaching this course, known anyone so belligerent and insistent on arguing with me as you. You absolutely refuse to learn what I am trying to teach you. Maybe you'd be happier if I just declared this my first ever failure in trying to teach. This is something that you could obviously use, but you simply refuse to learn it."

If you follow all of these steps, more or less in order, you will arrive at nirvana, as long as you define nirvana as: A state where you are always right simply because you assert that you are right, and nobody can challenge you because they rescinded their right, and if they try to, you will beat them into submission.


Can you see how powerful this is? This is a technique wherein you don't have to answer questions that are hard, you can become offended and shout and insult people if they question you, and you don't have to actually succeed in making them learn anything. Powerful! You could create a consulting firm, teaching this stuff to corporations for large sums of money, and nobody could ever prove you wrong - at least, not without getting into a shouting match. Well, you are too late for that, because people are already doing it. But, it could be a great technique for winning arguments.

How To Be A Supercross Announcer

I hear that Supercross is the fastest growing action sport in the US today. If you are a Supercross racer, or if you are a spectator, whether live or on TV, or if you ride or support their sponsors, congratulations: You are helping Supercross to grow.
Unfortunately, if you are Supercross TV announcer for Speed or CBS, I'm sorry: You are not helping Supercross to grow. You are helping position Supercross as a sport for stupid people.

I don't mean "stupid" as in, "You'd have to be stupid to try to blitz those whoops." I mean "stupid" as in, "I wonder if these people passed elementary school?"

I know there are some good Supercross announcers, but this is only because I am a long-time fan. Any new person watching Supercross on TV would have to assume that it is a sport for stupid people. They would arrive at this conclusion the moment they heard these people speak; they would remark to themselves, "I've never even seen a real motocross motorcycle in person, and I know more about this sport than they do." Where are you, Jamie Little??? Where are you, David Bailey???

Alas, we are stuck with Ralph "I Wish I Could Go Through Puberty" Sheheen, Denny "It Is So Hard To Construct A Sentence" Stephenson, and Krista "I Am Blonde For A Reason" Voda.

Krista is by far the worst. A typical Krista moment was at San Francisco this year, amidst the rain and mud. Broc Glover was explaining to Krista how the mud tires are self-cleaning, designed to cause the mud to remove itself from the tires. Krista turned to the camera and said, "Self-cleaning tires? I wish I had that in my oven." At which point my wife and I looked at each other, and I said, "She wants self-cleaning tires in her oven??"


I shouldn't complain too loudly. Speed and CBS, we Supercross fans do appreciate you broadcasting Supercross on TV and we continue to support you by watching. But do you think you could do something about the announcers? That's really all we're asking.

What It Means That Superbowl XL Is Over

Superbowl XL is over. What does this mean? What do we learn from this? What happens now that is is over?

We learn that:

1. There are no good NFC teams.
2. Controlling almost the whole game doesn't mean that you are going to win.
3. Being inept almost the whole game doesn't mean that you are going to lose.
4. The first strategic point in Seattle's two-minute drill is, "Everybody go into panic mode."
5. The second strategic point in Seattle's two-minute drill is, "Whatever has worked so far, do the opposite."
6. The third strategic point in Seattle's two-minute drill is, "Whatever you do, DO NOT STOP THE CLOCK."
7. Good things don't always happen to good people. Sometimes, good things happen to a bunch of haughty, arrogant jerks.

What it means:

1. Eleven more months until the best football games of the year are on TV again.
2. Now I don't have to worry about missing my favorite NFL team on TV in order to watch Supercross.
3. Hopefully Jerome Bettis will finally retire, and by doing so, bring the average NFL player's IQ up by a good 80 points or so.

The Christmas Cookie Who Did Not Believe In Santa Claus

I suppose most middle-class neighborhoods across the country are like mine, where every Christmas season the ladies in the neighborhood spend several hours stressing out about what type of goodies they are going to take around to their neighborhood friends, and trying to outdo each other with the cutest story to accompany their treats.
My wife had already decided to give cookies to everyone, and was trying to figure out what story to put with the cookies. I suggested the following story. I think it is a pretty good one.

The Christmas Cookie Who Did Not Believe In Santa Claus
Once upon a time, there was a batch of Christmas cookies. One of the Christmas cookies did not believe in Santa Claus. No matter what the other cookies said, this cookie still did not believe in Santa Claus.
"I don't believe in Santa Claus," the cookie said.
"How can you not believe in Santa Claus? Don't you know that if you don't believe in Santa Claus, he won't bring you any presents?" the others replied.
"I don't care. There is no such thing as Santa Claus."
"Well, who is it that brings the presents on Christmas Eve?"
"Nobody. There is no way that Santa can bring presents to every house in the same time zone at 12:00 midnight."
"Well, who is it that flies around delivering presents?"
"Nobody. There is no such thing as flying reindeer, and even if there were, eight reindeer could not possibly tow a sleigh that was big enough to hold all the toys for every boy and girl in the entire world."
"Well, then how do all those presents get into people's homes?"
"Who knows? But most people don't even have a chimney. How could he get into the homes? And how is it that he is never arrested for B&E?"
"So you really don't believe in Santa Claus?"
"Nope."
"But you are a Christmas cookie!"
"Doesn't matter. There is no such thing as Santa Claus."
And this cookie held stubbornly to his belief clear up until Christmas Eve. That night, the children carefully took all of the other Christmas cookies out and put them on a plate, leaving him behind. Later that night, Santa Claus came and ate all the other cookies.

The End.