Psychological safety is the enemy of urgency, progress, orbital velocity.
Musk’s preferred buzzword is hardcore.
Discomfort is a good thing, a weapon against the scourge of complacency.
Vacations, work-life balance, days of mental rest, are not his thing. Let that sink in.
No other natural substance has such a complex aroma associated with so many contradictory descriptions; however, it is usually described abstractly as animalistic, earthy and woody or something akin to the odor of baby’s skin.
“Ignorance has been our king. Since the death of empire, he sits unchallenged on the throne of Man. His dynasty is age-old. His right to rule is now considered legitimate. Past sages have affirmed it. They did nothing to unseat him.
“Tomorrow, a new prince shall rule. Men of understanding, men of science shall stand behind his throne, and the universe will come to know his might. His name is Truth. His empire shall encompass the Earth. And the mastery of Man over the Earth shall be renewed. A century from now, men will fly through the air in mechanical birds. Metal carriages will race along roads of man-made stone. There will be buildings of thirty stories, ships that go under the sea, machines to perform all works.
“And how will this come to pass?”
He paused and lowered his voice. “In the same way all change comes to pass, I fear. And I am sorry it is so. It will come to pass by violence and upheaval, by flame and by fury, for no change comes calmly over the world.”
A Canticle For Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr. (1959)
All 28 tasks in the sequence can be done in one day, but completing the entire list, even at nine minutes per item, would be 252 minutes, or 4.2 hours out of the 16 available to me.
A pretty name as one would wish to read, must perch harmonious on my tuneful quill.
There’s music in the sighing of a reed; there’s music in the gushing of a rill; there’s music in all things, if men had ears: their Earth is but an echo of the spheres.
Methinks we have hugely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance. Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the lees of my better being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me.
Chapter 3 – The Chapel, Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Singer: Is there anything you’ve been able to draw upon, David? Is there comfort in the past?
Milch: I feel the past falling away and the attachments of regret for what wasn’t done or was done badly or was done without sufficient sympathy, and it was for that reason that our granddaughter’s visit was such a redemptive and compelling occurrence. Everything is an adventure for her and a delight and a surprise, an opening up, and that’s a big gratification.
Singer: I’ve never thought of you as a sentimental person, but maybe I misread that. How would you characterize yourself?
Milch: As an unsentimental person.
–David Milch’s Third Act by Mark Singer (New Yorker May 20, 2019)
Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all, cling onto your back, and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it devour your remains, for all things will kill you, both slowly & fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover.
