Simply pop in the battery, push the lever on the side and well, that’s the beauty of it… you already know how to use this little guy. There’s also a helpful LED on the front to indicate the progress of the charge for the hopelessly impatient. “Toasting” your lithium-ion batteries is, at first glance, a little weird, right?

[via Engadget]

Yeah, designing a charger to look like a toaster is pretty kitschy. But it sure got me thinking… having a clear, visual and visible indicator of battery charge would be a huge improvement over my current (sorry) situation.

On the one hand, I keep reading urgent articles claiming that 30% of cell phone energy use is actually wasted electricity spent on chargers left in the sockets (or plugged in to already-charged phones). On the other hand, of my many phones, only one keeps a message on the display to tell me “Battery full: please remove charger” (another one keeps a single chirp as the “battery full” alert). Not that it helps a lot when the phone has been left to charge overnight, but still.

I wouldn’t want to remove the battery from my phone every day or two for charging (especially since that would turn the phone off — I don’t keep spare batteries much). But I would love to have a smart charger that turns itself off once the device battery is full. (If it would turn itself back on when the device got back down to, say, 50%, all the better.)

How about it? Anyone want to have a stab at making/marketing it?

Some things are basic truths: we become great through difficulty. I don’t know why, of course; but life experience has shown that it’s true. (I suspect it has to do with galus: that alternate route, that more difficult historical path to redemption.)

Shmula has posted a marvelous piece, attributed to General Douglas MacArthur:

Build me a son who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is a afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishes will not take the place of deeds; a son who will know Thee — and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spew of difficulties and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high, a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men, one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, and the meekness of true strength.

Of course, we don’t wish for our children to suffer. But shouldn’t we wish for our children to achieve personal greatness? Shouldn’t we wish for ourselves to achieve personal greatness?

Perhaps reading General MacArthur’s prayer serves as a sort of litmus test: how deeply do we feel the words; how truly do we yearn to make our lives worth living?

Perhaps reading General MacArthur’s prayer puts us into a frame of mind where we feel less sorry for ourselves, less angry at the world, and more determined than ever to be Big.

*  *  *

Here’s another version, via the American Information Web:

A Father Prayer by General Douglas MacArthur (May 1952)

Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishbone will not be where his backbone should be; a son who will know Thee — and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

Lead him I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high; a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the meekness of true strength.

Then, I, his father, will dare to whisper, have not lived in vain.

Shouldn’t your first reaction to any change of corporate policy be to redesign the logo?

Enjoy the full set of 15 here.

[Via Business Pundit. Thanks to Ken for the tip.]

© Tevfik Ozakat | Dreamstime.com

You know those awkward moments where you don’t know whether it’s better to say something or just to keep your mouth shut? Like when someone is walking around in their best suit, dragging a bit of tissue on the sole of their shoe. Or giving a presentation with a button open.

On the one hand, if you inform your hapless acquaintance, you will spare him a lot of future embarrassment — but at the cost of being the agent of humiliation. On the other hand, if you say nothing, you can pretend you haven’t noticed anything, but eventually the guy will realize what has happened, along with everyone else he has met that day since talking to you.

What do you do?

I received an email today from a business contact with whom I am barely acquainted. His automatic email signature misspelled his first, last, and company names. His first name is now that of a wild animal; his last name sounds like the evil scientist in a kids’ sci-fi flick; and his company has just changed cultural allegiances.

These are worse than ordinary typos, of course: they are embedded in the footer that goes to every email correspondent. Sigh.

Should I say anything?

If you’ve read this blog before, then you know that my favorite thing about words is how the sound, overt meaning, implied meaning, personal use history and spelling all work together to create an experience of a word, something I celebrate from time to time with “Word of the Day”.

One of the things that I love about words is the way they not only provide a window on our thoughts, they can actually shape our thoughts. There are startling uses of this (hypnotism, suggestion), and controlling uses (advertising, propaganda), of course.

But there’s another commonplace use of words that really intrigues me: the use of internal conversation to influence emotional response. In psychology this power is used to “reframe”, to intentionally use words to encourage one’s attitude to a situation (”How will eating this donut help me with my diet?” instead of “But I want it so badly!”).

It seems to me that inner-conversation has the power to put the rational or logical part of our thinking in control over the emotional or irrational reactions. This is a mighty weapon, and an underused one.

Lately, I’ve seen a number of studies demonstrating the power of inner conversation, for better and for worse. For example, talking about an experience soon after it occurs tends to blunt or dull the emotional reaction to it — thus negative experiences are felt less awfully if you speak (or write) them out, but positive experiences lose their sharpness similarly.

Is the effect of immediate verbalization on event memory (people are more liable to remember an event incorrectly when they speak about it soon after it occurs) related to the emotional blunting? Or is this completely different?

Does reliance on menuing systems for mobile operating system functions contain within itself the seeds of emotional distance and reduced learning capacity? (More on this to come…) Ouch.

A funny translation problem in the Hebrew localized OS [of the Nokia E71] showed up before I switched the phone over to English, which translates as:

“Keypad is locked. Press Unlock and then the function key to unlock.”

Of course, the softkey for “Unlock” wasn’t labeled “Unlock”, it was labeled “Open”. Hm.

Yeas:

• Keyboard better than expected
• Thin
• Has a hole for wrist strap (finally!)
• E-mail setup was fairly easy
• WiFi
• GPS (yay!)
• Great default settings for profiles, home screen application shortcuts
• Overall excellent use of the home screen (idle)
• Very nice mechanism for releasing the back battery cover (squeeze and lift)
• 3.2 MP camera
• Pre-loaded bar-code reader, which looks cool, but I can’t figure out how it works.

Nays:

• Keyboard arrangement a bit odd
• I know it’s really small for a QWERTY keyboard (that’s why I got it), but the E65 was a more comfortable size
• Slow, slow download of e-mail (even just the headers)
• Not yet synced with my Mac PowerBook G4 (which might be a problem with my iSync)
• GPS use costs extra monthly to activate (oh, well…)
• A bit slippery, despite the dot design on the back
• My outgoing test e-mail hasn’t gone out, even though mail is getting in
• The system doesn’t remember the WAP access key for my home wireless network (as was true with my E65), which means I have to manually enter it every time I take the phone online. This is a royal pain in the neck.
• Shiny metal back is not lovely, and attracts fingerprints
• S60 not always behaving as expected, including some quirky softkey labels in the web browser (Messaging?!)
• I haven’t found out how to turn off the feature that automatically locks the keypad after a few minutes of non-use. It’s OK, but I’d like to have control over that.

I am such a sucker for anything that cleverly mixes the real and virtual — even though the virtual, in this case, is more real than most virtual reality. There are a bunch of other (tangible) funky bikes at the link below.

[via FunTim]

Thanks to @DrimoN for the tip.

Quincunx:  An arrangement of [typically five] objects in a square or rectangle, with one at each corner and one in the middle, like the five spots on dice (from the Latin for “five-twelfths”).

Now there’s a word I don’t remember ever seeing before, and certainly have never heard spoken (seen now in Nassim Taleb’s The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable, in the context of Galton’s mechanical experiments on Gaussian curve formation). Quincunx. It sounds like a hiding place for Lord Voldemort.

Disemvowlmnt: The process of pruning a word of its vowels in order to cram an idea into the requisite 140 characters allowed in a Twitter post.

[word seen at @Quatrainman]