5 million years, 2.5% worth of genes separate us from chimps.
Primates have more in common than not.
And yet, we are the only ones who bare fangs without aggression (laughter), the only ones to make eye contact. Our interactions are still filled with subtle clues that serve the same function as the elaborate social play of all primate tribes. We unconsiously display our empty hands, put them on our knees, or desks. We show our necks to signal submission. We also laugh to show submission.
That's why it is impossible to think of a laugh-out-loud joke that isn't mean: we laugh, but it's just another way to play out our primate games of aggression/submission. We laugh at our bosses' jokes, then tell our friends about how dumb those jokes are.
Some days, especially if the first site that greets me upon arrival on Wall Street is a bunch of news vans, I am convinced that I can tell what the market is doing. A physical sensation, of ups and downs.
Perhaps its my unconsious reading of the subtle displays of the traders around me. Maybe more visible fangs than usual? or less?
If this is actually true, if it were possible, for a super intelligent being deeply attuned to these social displays than say an average observer to actually discern the individual and collective bets being made, the hopes, the fears. Well. That would spell the end of any hopes we might have for a telecommuting job market, wouldn't it. Cause it would mean that we need to be physically present.
To play a fully productive role, you have to be physically present.
Principal agent: the arrangement between owners and managers
For example, shareholders of a company (principals) elect management (agents) to act on their behalf, and investors (principals) choose fund managers (agents) to manage their assets. This arrangement works well when the agent is an expert at making the necessary decisions, but doesn't work well when the interests of the principal and agent differ substantially. Source: http://www.investorwords.com/3840/principal_agent_relationship.html
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
I really wish there could somehow be MORE 1995 hip hop. From Brooklyn
I really wish there could somehow be MORE 1995 hip hop. From Brooklyn. Or the Bronx. Or Queens.
Epic poetry from Smiff n Wessun, the likes of which the world hadn't seen.
What other underclass left a creative mark of poetry?
How did poetry go from the intellectual games of the rich and the educated, to the ghetto?
Sure, there is lots of sex and violence and drugs. What good poetry doesn't have these things?
But there is also poignancy and heartbreaking love.
"I find reality follows me where I roam
360 degrees back home
bucktown"
Epic poetry from Smiff n Wessun, the likes of which the world hadn't seen.
What other underclass left a creative mark of poetry?
How did poetry go from the intellectual games of the rich and the educated, to the ghetto?
Sure, there is lots of sex and violence and drugs. What good poetry doesn't have these things?
But there is also poignancy and heartbreaking love.
"I find reality follows me where I roam
360 degrees back home
bucktown"
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