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So of course, it's being used in outdoor advertising here in New York. Innocent pedestrians (well, innocent by New York standards) are assaulted by a bodiless voice murmuring "Who's that? Who's there?" It is then followed by: "It's not your imagination!"
I have two reactions to this: 1) Shades of Philip K. Dick, and 2) How stupid do you have to be to put additional voices inside the heads of already stressed-out NY pedestrians?
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Richard and I discussed the possibility of securing a couple of review samples. Time passed. Seasons changed, and so on.
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This is a picture of Shockley's "improved" gen 2 junction transistor—essentially a cylindrical plug of germanium, impregnated, with chemical impurities to enable it to carry a charge.
Still think you would would have invested in Bell Labs when they announced the breakthrough? I'm pretty sure I would have looked at a nice shiny triode and determined that a blob of mud could never have outperformed it.
"But there are other times too—moments of unstoppable happiness. Reading the paper next to a lake on a deck chair with Walker in my lap, laughing delightedly as I swear at the news. The four of us in bed together on a Saturday morning, Walker on his knees, towering for once over us all, and never happier. This is something, you see: Every time he…
Ferguson says our collective vision of Lincoln is shrinking.
Rolling Stone just published its list of the 100 best songs of 2007. I scored 0 out of the 100—oh well, I used to be hip. Maybe.
I have to confess I did like Randy Newman's "A Few Words in Defense of Our Country," even though I kept wondering if anybody had ever seen RN and Robert Baird in the same room.