I found this the other day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksFhXFuRblg "NBC Nightly News, June 24, 1975" I strongly urge people to watch this, it's 30 minutes but there are many very illuminating insights within. One word for you: Exxon.
While I was young in 1975, I did watch ABC's version of the news with my grandparents, and continued up through high school. Then in the late 1980s I got on the Internet and well you know the rest.
"Back Then", a high percentage of everybody I or my grandparents or my friends came into contact with watched one of ABC, NBC, or CBS news most nights. These three networks were a bit different, but they generally they all told the same basic stories as each other.
This was effectively our shared reality. Later in high school as I became more politically focused, I could still talk to anybody, even people who had completely opposite political views as myself. That's because we had a shared view of reality.
Today, tens of millions of people see the exact same footage of an officer involved shooting...many angles, and draw entirely different 'factual' conclusions.
So yes, 50 years ago, we in the United States generally had a share view of reality. That was good in a lot of ways, but it did essentially allow a small set of people in power to decide that convincing a non-trivial percentage of the US population that Exxon was a friendly, family oriented company that was really on your side.
Worth the trade off? Hard to say, but at least 'back then' it was possible, and even common, to have ground political discussions with people 'on the other side', and that's pretty valuable.
They don't need a lot of tools to do such a deep 'search' of your car, they're not under any requirement or mandate to make it easy or even possible to repair.
In my 40+ years of driving, I've seen such disassembled cars along the road a hand full of times.
I also lived not too far from that location, and unfortunately got a glimpse of the aircraft as it was spiraling down. The scene on the ground was pretty hellish.
I am seeking a hands-on, team-oriented role at a stable, technologically innovative company where we will be able to facilitate evolutionary and revolutionary adoption of various technologies, intended to produce consistently growing operational return on investment.
I am passionate about improving operational processes and flows via the collaborative approach of design and architecture. Fundamentally, I am a programmer with decades of hands-on operational experience, ranging from all kinds of Linux system administration to databases to strong networking skills.
Collaboratively designing and shipping high availability is my forte. Through many and diverse focus areas, LiveOps achieved 99.99% availability in Q4 2011.
Above all, I seek to understand, assimilate and process all of the issues, big and small, that stand in the way of efficient and smooth operations, using that analysis to design elegant integration solutions. Shipping that automation so my co-workers can get their work done is job one.
Recently, something quite rare happened. I needed to Xerox some paper documents. Well, such actions are rare today, but years ago, it was quite common to Xerox things.
Over time, the meaning of the word 'Xerox' changed. More specifically, it gained a new meaning. For a long time, Xerox only referred to a company named in 1961. Some time in the late 60s, it started to be used as a verb, and as I was growing up in the 70s and 80s, the word 'Xerox' was overwhelmingly used in its verb form.
Our society decided as a whole that it was ok for the noun Xerox to be used a verb. That's a normal and natural part of language development.
As others have noted, management doesn't care whether the serverless thing you want to use is running on servers or not. They care that they don't have to maintain servers themselves. CapEx vs OpEx and all that.
I agree that there could be some small hazard with the idea that, if I run my important thing in a 'serverless' fashion, then I don't have to associate all of the problems/challenges/concerns I have with 'servers' to my important thing.
It's an abstraction, and all abstractions are leaky.
If we're lucky, this abstraction will, on average, leak very little.
> The single most important job humanity has is to get our eggs into more than one basket.
This is a defensible opinion, as are the others saying that the most important job of humanity is to fix our current basket.
While neither agreeing or disagreeing, I will note another very important thing SpaceX is doing:
"The value of beauty and inspiration is very much underrated, no question. But I want to be clear: I'm not trying to be anyone's savior. I'm just trying to think about the future and not be sad."
A lot of what SpaceX is doing is extremely inspirational, and I think the world could use more things to look forward to in the future.
I LOLd but then had to do the math. Turns out that the dry weight of a SpaceX Merlin engine, in gold, costs almost exactly the same as a production RS-25.
Current spot price of gold is $1800/oz. Merlin dry weight is 1380 pounds. 1380 pounds of gold is right at 40 million dollars.
Is there a quick summary of what major site/features that will be unavailable in Chromium vs. Chrome? I assume, for example, that 'netflix' will be prominently on that list. Thanks.
My grandparents raised me, and my grandfather lived through a whole variety of horrible experiences in WWII in the Pacific and China/Burma/India theaters.
I do not deeply understand their relationship, but I know that my grandfather was not kind to my dad, their only child. As I read the story about Mr. Wilsey, the father and husband, I was constantly reminded of my grandfather, directly but more indirectly.
He was 51 years old when I was born, and I spent most of my first six years with him and my grandmother. At that time, my parents divorced and assigned full legal custody of me to my grandparents. I grew up there, leaving when I was 18, and my grandfather was 69, my grandmother 67.
My grandparents were kind to me, but my grandfather was distant. He was distant with everyone. He had only a single close friend, who died of cancer in the late 70s. He almost never spoke of what he went through in the war. He rarely spoke at all. He had a quick wit, and rarely, he would inject acerbic barbs into conversations.
He took me to some Veterans of Foreign Wars meetings in the early 80s, where I met and spoke to two other old men, whose names I can not recall. They served with him in Burma.
Several times, they took me aside and told me things about my grandfather. Things he would never speak of. How he could fire a clip from his BAR on full automatic and lethally aim individual clusters of bullets, singly stopping a Japanese assault.
They told me that he lost, killed, six different ammunition carriers. How a slug lodged in his femur and extensive fragmentation wounds had no impact on his ability to slaughter the enemy, day after day, night after night, week after week, month after month.
I learned how he had received the pile of ribbons and medals that I had caught a fleeting glimpse of in the attic.
The daily horror, fear and relative certainty of death. Of the horrors they inflicted, all too often needlessly.
The man who raised me also raised my father. But those 25 years made a big difference. I'm sure that all of the critical words and quick anger were still inside him in the 70s and 80s, but inside they stayed.
Though I never heard the word 'love' come from his mouth, I had no doubt that my grandfather would do anything for me. And he did.
Though notoriously cheap (for instance, we 'harvested' ketchup and mustard packets from Jack in the Box to refill our supply), my grandfather spent many hundreds and thousands of dollars to buy me a Color Computer and a TRS-80 Model 100 laptop in the early 80s. Though he had only a 6th grade education, he knew, in broad strokes, what the future would look like, and the things his grandson would need to learn.
I speak little of my grandmother here. She was a far more open and loving person, but she took heavy doses of Valium and related drugs the whole time I was with them, and after. She and her husband had slept in separate beds since before I was born. They had no love for each other. They were house-mates, generally tolerating each others presence, and helping each other as needed.
In many ways, my grandparents were progressive, open-minded people. But they did not support of "mixed marriage." Though it didn't drive them crazy either. "Live and let live" was their credo. Yet they were raised in casual, abstract and always present racism. I heard a lot about how the "Mexicans are taking all of our jobs", growing up in Southern California.
This isn't all that pleasant, but it is Real Life. Real Life is muddy and complex and conflicted. And people in the past carried different cultural burdens than we do today.
After their deaths, I, like so many others, venerated the Greatest Generation. During their lives, I took my grandparents for granted. But they were patient with me. They were pretty sure I would grow out of my selfishness and arrogance, even though they would not live to see it. And they were ok with that. Their love and support were iron-clad and steadfast.
The Greatest Generation is important. So are the Baby Boomers, and my own Generation Xers. And my son's Millennials. All important.
And complicated. And conflicted. We will find that every generation is generally laden with backwards cultural norms.
This article solidifies much that I already knew about the raw, life-long impact such things have on people. It helps me understand my dad a little better.
I'm not sure how to end this somewhat emotional ramble, so I'll exhort everyone to embrace the complications and conflict that make up every person, of every generation. Understand their personal and cultural history.
