Management and Monkeyluv
"Chapter 14 addresses, among other questions that standard texts infrequently tackle, whether it is okay for the boss, the manager, to have sex with his or her secretary. While this may well be an issue of sexual harrassment, Chapter 14 is not about sexual harrassment; it is about sexual stupidity. It is also about cliques, trust, enemies of information places, crazy ideas, and what to do when nothing works. You will find nothing remotely close to this chapter in any other management text."
-- Guide to library and information agency management, by Charles Curran, Lewis Miller.
Pretty good book on management.
And here was a nice book about fun aspects of biology.
"Why are dreams dreamlike?"
'You find yourself at a banquet table. You feel disaffected because the people surrounding you are speaking a language you do not understand. Suddenly, you feel pressure on your foot--beneath the table, someone's foot is on your own. You glance up. Your eyes meet those of an attractive person sitting opposite you. Intuitively, you sense the word that you must now say to captivate this person. You say it: "Phlegm." The person stands, and suddenly the other people are gone. As is the table. As are your clothes. You fling yourselves at each other in passion. It is wondrous. The two of you are far up in the air, the sensuality of the experience heightened by the clouds brushing past you. Yet suddenly you begin to sob in shame, because you have been observed by your four deceased grandparents, who disapprove. You realize that the severe-looking man in the black frock coat comforting your maternal grandmother is William Seward, and with great clarity and an inexplicable sense of nostalgia, you recite, "William Henry Seward. U.S. secretary of state in the Andrew Johnson administration."
You know. One of those dreams.'
"Monkeyluv"
'Well, I have some terrible news for 99 percent of us never destined to make People's Most Beautiful issue and thus get to be featured in essay one. This news is so terrible that it's even been reified with a cover story in Newsweek. But first, a Martian joke:
So the Martians finally come to Earth and they turn out to be great folks. Earthlings and Martians hit it off, sit around for days talking about politics, the weather on Mars and Earth, sports, what really happened to Elvis ... Eventually, both the earthlings and Martians feel comfortable enough to work up the nerve and ask the other folks what they're really curious about--"So how do you guys reproduce?"
It's decided to have a demonstration. The Martians go first. Four of them stand on top of each other, make whirring mechanical sounds, lights go off on their foreheads, smoke and bells, and ... suddenly a new Martian pops out.
"Fabulous, just fabulous, love the concept," say the earthlings. Then it's our turn. A suitable volunteer couple has been found, a bed cleared, and the couple goes at it while the Martians stand around taking souvenir photos. The pair finishes in a sweaty heap.
"Great, that was terrific, very novel," enthuse the Martians, "but one thing ... er ... where's the new earthling?"
"Oh, that," they are answered. "That happens nine months from now."
And the Martians ask, "So why were they in such a rush at the end?"'
--both snippets from Monkeyluv: and other essays on our lives as animals, by Robert M. Sapolsky.
-- Guide to library and information agency management, by Charles Curran, Lewis Miller.
Pretty good book on management.
And here was a nice book about fun aspects of biology.
"Why are dreams dreamlike?"
'You find yourself at a banquet table. You feel disaffected because the people surrounding you are speaking a language you do not understand. Suddenly, you feel pressure on your foot--beneath the table, someone's foot is on your own. You glance up. Your eyes meet those of an attractive person sitting opposite you. Intuitively, you sense the word that you must now say to captivate this person. You say it: "Phlegm." The person stands, and suddenly the other people are gone. As is the table. As are your clothes. You fling yourselves at each other in passion. It is wondrous. The two of you are far up in the air, the sensuality of the experience heightened by the clouds brushing past you. Yet suddenly you begin to sob in shame, because you have been observed by your four deceased grandparents, who disapprove. You realize that the severe-looking man in the black frock coat comforting your maternal grandmother is William Seward, and with great clarity and an inexplicable sense of nostalgia, you recite, "William Henry Seward. U.S. secretary of state in the Andrew Johnson administration."
You know. One of those dreams.'
"Monkeyluv"
'Well, I have some terrible news for 99 percent of us never destined to make People's Most Beautiful issue and thus get to be featured in essay one. This news is so terrible that it's even been reified with a cover story in Newsweek. But first, a Martian joke:
So the Martians finally come to Earth and they turn out to be great folks. Earthlings and Martians hit it off, sit around for days talking about politics, the weather on Mars and Earth, sports, what really happened to Elvis ... Eventually, both the earthlings and Martians feel comfortable enough to work up the nerve and ask the other folks what they're really curious about--"So how do you guys reproduce?"
It's decided to have a demonstration. The Martians go first. Four of them stand on top of each other, make whirring mechanical sounds, lights go off on their foreheads, smoke and bells, and ... suddenly a new Martian pops out.
"Fabulous, just fabulous, love the concept," say the earthlings. Then it's our turn. A suitable volunteer couple has been found, a bed cleared, and the couple goes at it while the Martians stand around taking souvenir photos. The pair finishes in a sweaty heap.
"Great, that was terrific, very novel," enthuse the Martians, "but one thing ... er ... where's the new earthling?"
"Oh, that," they are answered. "That happens nine months from now."
And the Martians ask, "So why were they in such a rush at the end?"'
--both snippets from Monkeyluv: and other essays on our lives as animals, by Robert M. Sapolsky.