The Source of Richard Feynman’s Genius • 2016 May 11 • Maria Popova • Brain Pickings

No thing great is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig. If you tell me that you desire a fig, I answer you that there must be time. Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen. — Epictetus

George Zimmerman Shot in the Face in Florida • 2015 May 11 • People

May gray is in full effect, and I'm dragging in the mornings, my eastward commute cloaked in sea-borne fog. Everything felt out of sync for some reason, and instead of listening to the morning shows, I ended up plugging in my iPod.

Josh Catone writes against the existence of Web 3.0, arguing that the version numbers don't really depict any specific discontinuities the way that real major version changes would.

There are two units in the hospital that tend to get a particular song stuck in my head.

Now I realize that happiness in of itself is a rather empty goal, reserved for victims of unusual strokes, the congenitally mentally incapacitated, and the clinically deranged. You lesion a few tracts in your brain, and you can be permanently happy until your dying day, singing “zippy-de-doo-da” out of your asshole, your face guaranteed to freeze with a rictus grin. I can see it now, a corpse grinning maniacally in his/here casket.

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I haven't thought about this book in a long time, despite the number of ideas it spawned within my addled brain, and despite the bizarre synchronicity swirling around this particular point in spacetime.