Archive for the 'Writing/Literature' category

 | April 11, 2011 6:55 pm

Note: Still working desperately hard to finish the book. It is nearly done, mostly just tying up loose ends (like getting permission to use all of the pretty pictures). With that said, I’m not going to taunt anyone (especially me) with dates or tentative delivery schedules. It will be done when it’s done. The only thing I’m going to say on the timing is that it will be soon.

I had the strangest experience the other day, and for that reason, I’ve decided to write a strange essay. Here’s what happened.

I was talking with a friend (let’s call him Sam) about recent trends in technology. In the course of the conversation, we found ourselves discussing the finer points of American history. (It then devolved into the anthropology of mushrooms, but, the train of logic made perfect sense at the time. Really.)

Most of the conversation was wonderful. We cracked jokes, exchanged similar views, and generally agreed about everything. I did my usual Steve Jobs shtick, talked up open technologies, and generally babbled about my favorite things. It was a highly enjoyable exchange. Well … right up till we started talking about history, that is. That was when the strangeness happened. As soon as I said, “history,” we found ourselves in disagreement.

Not hostile disagreement or murder your neighbor contention. But it was definitely uncomfortable, and we found ourselves indisputably at odds. No one had said anything of consequence, yet, we were both prepared for a fight over a topic as mundane as “history.” In fact, now that I think on it, the whole thing was really quite distressing.

Not just a little distressing, but the crawl “under your skin and keep you up late at night” type of distressing. And all of this from a single, slightly belligerent comment (made by Sam, of course):

I hate history. Why should I care about things that happened thousands of years ago? I’m too busy trying to live in the present.

At first glance, this might seem a strange thing to get bothered about. After all, what Sam thinks about history has no effect on my life or how I live. It doesn’t impact the type of people I choose as friends or the activities I pursue in my spare time. For that matter, it’s powerless to effect the way I see or interact with the world.

On another level, though, it’s deeply irksome. This is because history is awesome, of course. But it’s also more than that. History isn’t just awesome, it’s also central to nearly everything we do. The way you understand the stories of the past influence how you interpret the future, your politics, and even how you name your children.1

This is why I had such a reaction to Sam’s comment. It denotes a willingness to disengage from the past in favor of a present without context. It also puts you at odds with reality, all 13.7 billion years of it.


That’s really dangerous. It leaves you adrift in a complex and stormy world without the benefit of maps, charts, or even horizon to guide you. When history is left behind, it means that you leave everything behind: science, mathematics, literature, anthropology, psychology, medicine … the whole lot. A willful ignorance of the past is also an ignorance of its many gifts. I can’t imagine hating history, it would be like hating … everything.

After I explained this idea, Sam seemed to get it. (At least he said he did. That might have just been to get me to shut up, though.) But Sam couldn’t quite let it be, he had to explain the rationale behind his comment. This is what he said:

When I said I hate history, I wasn’t referring about the sum of human experience. Rather, I was talking about the very narrow way that history is presented in schools. I hate history as a table of dates, irrelevant names, and uninteresting successions of kings.

At which point, I said, “Oh. Yeah, I hate that too.”

Which raises an important point. Why is that we teach something so vitally important to our children in such a bland form? It’s not how history is studied by the “professionals” nor is it representative of how most think about reality. Yet, it’s what we force feed our children.

Neither one of us could come up with a good answer to that question.

Luckily, it seems like the status quo might be set to change. Over the weekend, I came across the following video by David Christian (and the related project of the same name). From the video and available course materials, it looks like they aim to do something audacious: place the subject of “history” within its proper context, as the story of universal existence.

As far as I’m concerned, that is a good thing. Perhaps it might even result in a little less hate for history.

1 As a case of how history can impact child names, consider the case of Chastity. (A story which I heard over the weekend.) She was given the name by her parents, after a great aunt, in the hopes that it would inspire her to a life of service and devotion. There was even some talk of Chastity taking religious vows. None of that happened, of course, because Chastity ran away with an older man to have a family.

 | March 31, 2011 7:50 pm

In the Open Source Writing book, I’ve got a section on Visual Thinking. While I’m hardly an expert, the way we perceive and understand the world is a serious interest of mine an I read everything I can find on the subject.

This morning, while I was fact checking a few things for the book, I came across this video by Tom Wujek. In it, he talks about the neuroscience of understanding and a few of the ways that the brain interacts with the world of ideas. Though a bit dated (from the 2009 TED conference), it’s still excellent.

Of related interest, you may want to take a look at the TED project he references, TED Big Viz.

 | March 28, 2011 10:06 pm

You know that obsession I’ve got with awesome stuff and the compulsion to share it? Well, it seems to have taken hold this morning.

There are two things in the RSS feed today that simply must be shared. For these, everything – looming deadlines, familial responsibilities, and miscellaneous addictions – can wait.

The first item is a link to LibreGraphics magazine. The second is a call for proposals from a conference of the same name.

LibreGraphics Magazine

First, the magazine:

LibreGraphics magazine is designed to serve as a catalyst for discussion; to build a home for the users of Libre Graphics software, standards, and methods. As users of these tools, we know that our work, when executed well, is indistinguishable from work produced by more traditional means. Thus, here we will unite all our previously disparate successes. We will elevate the discourse around Libre Graphics as a professionally viable option, raise awareness, and show that it is the vision of the artist (not the cost of the tool) that is important.

LibreGraphics Magazine - Issue 1.1LibreGraphics Magazine - Issue 1.2

There are two issues currently available. Both are great examples of what a LibreGraphics and open design magazine should be. They provide tutorials, opinion, perspective, and healthy doses of ideology. (Not too different from the publications written for open source code jockeys, actually.)

You can download both issues from the project’s website, or from one of the handy mirrors.

LibreGraphics Conference

Like LibreGraphics Magazine, the LIbreGraphics Meeting exists to “unite and accelerate the efforts behind Free, Libre, and Open Source creative software It’s the premiere conference for developers, users, and supporters of porjects such as GIMP, Inkscape, Blender, Krita, Scribus, Hugin, the Open Clipart Library, and the Open Font Library to gather and work.” In short, a meeting of magic and liquid awesomeness.LGM

The conference organizers are currently looking for help on two fronts:

  1. They need money. Since there are many open source developers and volunteers who would dearly love to attend and might not be able to afford the travel costs, they are trying to raise money for travel grants. They estimate that they need about $12,000. Please donate.
  2. They are also in need of presenters. If you are doing amazingly creative things with open source, consider submitting a proposal. The submission deadline is April 20th.
 | 4:57 pm

kde-iconNext Monday, I’m going to be giving a talk entitled “Writing and Publishing With Open Source Tools” at Camp KDE, the annual KDE conference for North America. For those interested in attending, the talk happens at 12:15 pm at the Hotel Kabuki, in San Francisco.

I’m really excited about the talk and I think it’s going to be excellent. (I know, having high expectations for your own performance is the route to obscurity, disappointment, and insanity.) If you live in the bay area, or are going to be near San Francisco next Monday and Tuesday, please consider coming.

Note: While I think you should come to hear me, you might also be interested in the conference as a whole. There are going to be a number of interesting talks that cover KDE developments and core technologies.

I’m particularly excited to hear about what KOffice/Calligra is up to. The abstract talks about “Office Engines” and how KOffice/Caligra can be used to build custom applications. I’m wondering if the technology might be adapted for a mobile project I’m working on. The talks on QtWebKit and the Qt Graphics tools also look neat.

One of the reasons why I’m so excited about my talk is that it brings developments with the book full circle. I first started writing “Writing With Open Source Tools” due to a request for proposals  launched by KDE nearly two years ago. Now, I’m going back to KDE to talk about the (nearly) finished project.

I’m also going talk on other developments I consider timely. For example:

  • How open source publishing tools can be used to target print, web, and eBook platforms from a single source file.
  • How editors, writers, designers, and production people can work together in a seamless, collaborative manner.
  • The strengths of an open approach and where things stand to improve. (Especially for writers and designers.)

While there will be motifs common to the Salt Lake Linux User’s group presentation, most of it is exciting and new. (Which also means untried and untested. So, if it goes well, you can expect to be enlightened. If it goes poorly, expect to be entertained. Either way, it should be a good time.) Since I haven’t quite finished the presentation, it’s also adaptable. If there is anything specific you’d like to see covered, let me know in the comments and I will try to oblige.

Show me more… »

 | March 26, 2011 10:15 pm

Though it’s not really related to my work, one of my side interests is is the workflow of writers. I’m fascinated by where ideas come from, the tools we use to corral them, and how great thinkers create. While a portion of that interest derives from a practical desire to emulate their techniques, I’m also very curious about the underlying ecosystem of success, creativity, and innovation.

As I’ve traipsed across the ideas landscape and meandered the moors of their implementation, there is one lesson that rears its head over and over: great success – whether intellectual or commercial – turns on the hinges of small details. Steve Jobs and his iPhone, for example, weren’t successful because iPhone was new and innovative – in most meanings of the word, it wasn’t – but because it superbly implemented a core set of powerful features. It, in effect, got all of the important things right.

While I can (and will actually, it’s part of the promotional plan for the book) write a whole blog post on this idea, I wanted to talk briefly about one example in a Lifehack post. (This is mostly because I stumbled across it the other day and have found it to be brilliantly useful.) Specifically:

What is the best way to structure margin notes and comments in a book or report?

Show me more… »

 | March 17, 2011 9:01 pm

Note: I have a tentative release date for the book in electronic format, March 31. The print volume will follow shortly. At this point, I am mostly removing things, in the words of Nancy Duarte, “murdering my darlings.” Below, you will find one essay that has been scrapped. It talks about the enabling power of technology, within the context of the Egyptian reovlution of January 25.

On the 11th of February, 2011, a miracle happened. After eighteen days of protest, Hosni Mubarak, the dictator of Egypt for nearly thirty years, resigned as president of his country. But like the despots of earlier times, he did not go willingly.

Starting eighteen days earlier, on January 25th, demonstrators had taken to the streets and public squares of Cairo and Alexandria to demand a voice in their government. They were upset with the pervasive poverty, terrible government corruption, and police brutality which had become its most obvious outward manifestation. They were angry that political dissidents, like Khaled Saeed, could be brutally murdered in the street by members of the security establishment, or, that a Google marketing manager could disappear for asking, “Why?”

Note: Khaled Saeed was a Egyptian programmer who died after being arrested by the Egyptian police in Alexandria on June 6, 2010. Photos of his corpse were spread by Wael Ghonim and others on the Facebok group, “We are all Khaled Said,” inciting outrage over his death. Later, Ghonim himself would disappear for 11 days, abducted by officers of the Egyptian state police. He was later released after significant public outcry, which played an important role in Mubaraks resignation.

But while the story of Hosni Mubarak’s fall from power is similar to that of other dictators, it was also distinct in one important aspect. Since ancient times, successful revolutions have been the products of careful organization. The marches, protests, and civil disobedience of the American and South African Civil Rights movements weren’t spontaneous. They didn’t just happen. They required articulate leaders — Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela, respectively — and years of political organization.

What makes the Egyptian revolution of January 25th so remarkable, though, was the apparent lack of formal organization. In contrast to the Civil Rights Movement, the struggle against Apartheid — or older revolutions, such as the American and French revolutions — the Egyptian Revolution seemed to spring out of nothing.

Certainly, there were agitators. Asmaa Mahfouz, a twenty-six year old blogger and activist, was instrumental in cataloging and exposing the abuses of the regime, for example, as were individuals like Khaled Saeed and Wael Ghonim. But for the most part, though, groups traditionally associated with the political opposition — such as the National Progressive Unionist Party (the Tagammu) and the Muslim Brotherhood — explicitly stated that they would not participate in protests and demonstrations.

The hard work of organizing, constructing alliances, and preparing for the protests happened invisibly. Not just underground, but completely out of sight. It made use of Twitter, Facebook, and other new-fangled web technologies. No one group was responsible for it. In many ways, there were no groups responsible, just networked individuals. And in contrast to the revolutionary spokesmen of yore, the administrators of these websites remained largely anonymous. Their great contributions consisted of a virtual forum for messages to spread and like-minded individuals to connect. Of his involvement, Ghonim commented:

[The] revolution is like Wikipedia … Everyone is contributing content, [but] you don’t know the names of the people … Revolution in Egypt was exactly the same. Everyone gave small pieces, bits and pieces. We drew this whole picture of a revolution, and no one is the hero in that picture.

Note: The comments were made during an interview on the CBS news show, “60 Minutes” on February 13, 2011. During the interview, Ghonim described the strategies used by the Egyptians as “Revolution 2.0.” News and plans were passed amongst forum members, who were then encouraged to tell friends, acquaintances, and contacts so that “everyone knew.” The mediums — Facebook, Twitter, text-message, and email — were secondary to the strategy: get the message out quickly and organically.

The actual “content” of the revolt — grievances, evidence of corruption, plans, photos, stories of abuse — was very similar to those of the past. In this, Malcolm Gladwell makes an important point:

People protested and brought down governments before Facebook was invented. They did it before the internet came along. Barely anyone in East Germany in the nineteen-eighties had a phone — and they ended up with hundreds of thousands in central Leipzig and brought down a regime that we all thought would last another hundred years — and in the French Revolution the crowd in the street spoke to one another with that strange, today largely unknown instrument known as the human voice.

Note: See Malcolm Gladwell, “Does Egypt Need Twitter,” The New Yorker, February 2, 2011,

But the way that the Egyptian protests played out, the speed at which groups rallied together, and how the Egyptian reformers communicated with the international community had a vastly different feel to them. Technology enabled the protesters to formulate and move their ideas to a hugely diverse audience. In essence, it allowed for them to be more effective, and because of that, Mubarak’s government collapsed in days, rather than months or years.

Technology, in all of its forms, has typically had such effects. Spoken language, for example, allowed for stories and wisdom to pass from one generation to the next. Writing then built on the foundation of spoken communication, and allowed for rising generations to “hear” the precise words of those who had come before. Literally, allowing the dead to speak. Gutenberg’s marvelous printing press then made it easier to disseminate those thoughts to an enormous audience.

Each new development — language, writing, printing — made previously difficult tasks more efficient. Language communicates thought, writing preserves it, and printing disseminates it. But in addition to allowing people to do old things in new ways, it also prompted novel innovations, and, its effect in the Egyptian revolution should not be understated.

Technology made it easier for potential revolutionaries to locate one another, share information, coordinate their actions, and execute their plans. It also made it possible for an everyday group of Egyptians, people like Wael Ghonim, to bring down the government of a dictator.

 | March 4, 2011 10:26 am

In a day where I admit to loving books about giant killer insect men, I thought it might be good to share something a bit more … sophisticated.

The other day, during the meeting of a writing group I attend, we had a wonderful time picking apart a screenplay written by one of the members. We discussed lots of things — dialogue, setting, and whether a movie should begin with a comedic drowning — but there was one tangent I found to be particularly interesting. Namely, “What is involved in crafting a historical scene?”

Whenever I write, I like to get the details right. If you’re writing a  pirate scene set in the 16th century and mention spy-glasses, it’s important to know whether spy-glasses existed. To get such a detail wrong would be a hallmark of sloppy craft. But at the same time, factual obsessiveness can lead to absurdity, like using four footnotes in a paragraph to document Mississippi moonshine. (please, don’t ask). The questions of how to balance good taste with careful craft have been on my mind ever since.

A few days after that discussion, I heard a wonderful interview on the NPR books podcast that addressed many of my questions (in addition to several  others). For that reason, I thought I would share the relevant portions here. (They can be found attached to this posting as a podcast.)

The interviewee is David Mitchell, author of “The Thousand Summers of Jacob De Zoet”, Black Swan Green, and Cloud Atlas.

Audio Interview

NPR Books Podcast: Thoughts on writing historical novels

 | March 3, 2011 7:33 pm

Note: One of their weekly segments on the NPR Books Podcast is entitled, “My Guilty Pleasure,” and offers authors a chance to talk about the indulgence books they are currently reading. Over the past month, I’ve found that I have my own guilty pleasure. This entry explains why.

Empire in Black and GoldDragonfly FallingBlood of the Mantis

For the past month, the “Shadows of the Apt”, written by Adrian Tchaikovsky, has been my guilty pleasure. I’ve now read four of the books and purchased the last two. I simply cannot put them down. At my current rate, I’ll finish the whole series by this weekend, and, I’m sure that I’ll enjoy every moment of it.

Shadows of the Apt has all the things that I demand of a book. The characters are real, the action is convincing and it has a compelling story to tell. Nothing seems contrived; the consistency is excellent. All well and good, nothing to be ashamed of.

Then you get to the book’s premise: a world where tribes of people (kinden) inherit the powers of specific arthropods. Or, put another way, giant killer insect men and the bugs they love.

Now do you see why I’m calling this a “guilty” pleasure?

Yet, Tchaikovsky actually goes places with his somewhat absurd ideas. There are also glimpses of humanity and surprising depth in his characters. He even touches on universal human themes such as racism, classicism, and fears of the other. But, of course, this being fantasy, all of the heavy stuff is layered in with crisp and witty dialogue, fight scenes, sweeping battles, and hokey moments of giant killer insect men.

It’s positively electric. More importantly, though, it shows that hokey stories of giant killer insect men can be immensely and brilliantly satisfying. Even if it might be an over the top indulgence.

Salute the DarkThe Scarab PathThe Sea Watch

 | January 27, 2011 8:15 pm

Note: Still working on the book.

It’s funny how the act of writing can take us places that we never intended to go.

When I started this post, it was meant to be an in-depth review of Son of a Witch, written by Gregory Maguire. I was going to talk about the ways in which Maguire touches upon questions such as, “How do you follow in the footsteps of a highly dysfunctional, famous predecessor?”, “What does it mean to have a personal identity?”, and “What does ‘control of your own destiny’ imply?”


Witch and the Warlock, Illustration by Mark Summers. Image Source: For more illustrations by Summers see this post.

But I may have to share those thoughts in a different write-up. This one became something else. Rather than really dive into the book, I’d instead like to focus on the superficial and trivial. Maguire’s peachiness, the general whininess of the titular character, or the unjustified cynicism that pervades Maguire’s Oz will be dealt with elsewhere. Here, I’d like to rant about about something completely unrelated: the audiobook narrator. (And more’s the pity, as it happened to be Gregory Maguire himself.)

Generally, I applaud authors who read their own work. Malcolm Gladwell, for example, brings an added dimension to his arguments in Outliers and Blink. Through his performance of the text, he provides emphasis to key points and makes you feel as though you were discussing the ideas at a dinner party.

Neil Gaiman does something similar when reading his stories. Misters Croup and Vandemar of Neverwhere, for example, become more sinister and disturbing as read by Gaiman. So much so that I prefer the the audiobook version of the characters to how they are portrayed in both the original BBC broadcast and as I imagined them when first reading the book.

Maguire’s narration contains none of this. Indeed, it even proves an important point. The ability perform a piece is not the same as the ability to create it, and, just because a writer can sling a sentence does not mean that he can competently deliver it. (To a rapt audience or not.)


I’ve written about the importance of narrator before. A good narrator has the ability to completely transform a story.

As narrated by Frank Muller, Stephen King’s Drawing of the Three takes on a life of its own. Each character has a distinctive voice and the nuances of the prose positively ring. You can hear the world weary cynicism in Eddie Dean’s voice and the psychosis of Odetta Holmes and her alter ego, “Detta.”

Certainly, the roots of the magic are present in King’s writing, but it really is more than that. A huge portion also comes from the interpretation that Muller chooses to give to the characters. Would Pirates of the Caribbean be the same without Jonny Depp’s shambling, squinted eyed portrayal of Captain Jack Sparrow? Of course not, that’s why he gets paid in the millions.*

Muller brings the same sort of interpretive quality to Stephen King’s prose. An interpretation that not only improves the work, but makes it significantly better. In the introduction to the audiobook recording of The Waste Lands, the next book in the series, King said that Muller’s voices were the way the characters were “supposed to sound.” That is high praise.

Unfortunately, Maguire’s performance doesn’t bring the same life to Son of a Witch. Far from it, actually. As read by Maguire, the magical land of Oz feels narrow, populated by cynical and priggish people who are trying to engage with grand ideas and failing miserably.

For example, the lilting and frilly intonations of Glinda make her sound a superficial airhead (which she is); Liir an uninspired/uninspiring nobody with no confidence in himself or anyone else; and the Unionist monts are harrumphing old “biddies” (Maguire’s word, not mine). That’s all the characters are. There’s no subtlety in the performance, and it kills whatever depth might be hidden in the prose. Worse, because this is Maguire reading Maguire, the interpretation feels definitive.

When I read Maguire’s original work, Wicked, several years ago I didn’t feel this bothered. I didn’t really care for it, but I came away satisfied. Again, there was the same tendency toward preachiness, cynicism, and philosophical wandering. But in that case, the work was performed by another narrator and the story populated by stronger characters. This made it possible to overlook the weak spots. Here, I wasn’t able to get past the Maguire’s voice.


Which I suppose bothers me at a more fundamental level.

I hold a few strong opinions about artwork and its interpretation, and one of the most foundational is that there should never be a “definitive” perspective. As far as I’m concerned,  not even the author’s vision is final (even though the writing is a product of their mind).

The reason for this is quite simple. Writing a book is a great deal like giving birth to and raising a child. Though the book may inherit certain qualities, it also becomes it’s own entity. The book needs to either sink or swim on its own merits, and Son of a Witch doesn’t. There’s no room for interpretation.

The vision that Maguire provides feels definitive, and it smothers the potential for flight and fancy.

 | December 18, 2010 7:57 pm

Note: Still working on the book.

You don’t pretend to be a writer without enjoying a well turned phrase, or a clever and subtle joke.  It’s part and parcel to the identity.

Nor do you discriminate.  A true creative understands that insight can be found anywhere.  But, to be honest, there’s a bit of hierarchy.  (Stereotypes usually come from somewhere).  It’s generally true that an editorial piece published in Time will be more insightful than one published in the Daily Banana, or, that a novel published from a major publishing house has less typos then one from a vanity press.

While we might quibble about the various rankings of different sources, it’s generally agreed that at the bottom of the quality scale is ad-copy. Well … that and fan-fiction.

Most ad-copy is garbage.  It’s disposable, temporary, and exists to make the design look good.  Every once in a while, though, you come across a spectacular exception, such as the material below from ItyBiz,.

This marketing blurb, which is promoting a series of free courses, is awesome.  It’s clever and funny (though not necessarily subtle). Most importantly, though, it’s effective.  Because it’s interesting, it grabs your attention and leaves you breathlessly waiting for me.

It got me to sign up for the free course, mostly because I wanted to see more.  If there had been an option to pay, I would have even put down money for it.  It is, in a word, great writing.

Note: I’ve edited the copy slightly. The full version can be found here.

Free Marketing Courses

Well hello there. Didn’t you come at a good time? Clever person.

We are delighted to announce the much talked about (and, frankly, much procrastinated) FREE MARKETING COURSES!! (I’m a little excited. Can you tell? All of my normal jaded cynicism is disintegrating as I type.)

So, right. Yes. Free marketing courses. Back on topic. We have a five part email course custom made for YOU, in YOUR industry. Whatever your crazy thing is, we have a crazy marketing course for you.

Marketing for Touchy Feely Airy Fairy Woo Woo Service Providers

I am guessing that you would like to close your office door, put on some soothing music, and softly hum until the clients come to you. Then they’ll tell their friends about you and their friends will send you some money as well, and you will never actually have to utter what you do for a living out loud. Am I right? Have I got it so far?

Marketing for Bloggers: How to Get More Asses in the Seats

You’re reading the blogs. You know the ones. The ones that tell you how you can make six figure Adsense checks? And how to recommend a few products and you can make a few grand a month in affiliate payments? But the part they didn’t get around to mentioning was how to get the people to your blog in the first place. Yeah. We hate that.

Marketing for Coaches and Consultants

Do you remember when you first got into the business of helping people, and you heard about the other guys in your industry making an hourly wage that would pay off your mortgage? And you look back at it and give a little rueful chuckle and think, “I’ll settle for half of that if I can just get some damn clients!” Mmm hmm. Yeah, you’re not the only one.

Marketing for Designers and Other Artsy Fartsy Types

Maybe you went to art school or design school. Maybe you just hang out with people who did. Either way, you’ll know how weird it gets when money comes up. Somewhere along the line, you were quietly promised a life of loft apartments and filterless cigarettes and never having to think about, God help us, SELLING this stuff. Eew.

Marketing for Writers and Wordsmiths

When you were younger, you imagined what writing would be like. Maybe you imagined ink stained fingers, maybe the whirr and click of an IBM Selectric. Maybe — holy banoli! — the orange glow of a 486. You knew it wouldn’t be an easy ride. You knew it would be tough. You just didn’t know it would be THIS tough.

Marketing for Geeks and Techie Types

You like code. And numbers. And things that make sense. You dig databases and back ends and compiling stuff. You do not dig things that seem wildly illogical and emotional and impractical like how to make people feel nice when they’re sending you money. This one’s for people who speak Geek.