Sometime between July 22nd and July 26th, I thought this stuff was interesting. You might think so too!

  • Why Intelligent People Fail: "1. Lack of motivation. A talent is irrelevant if a person is not motivated to use it. Motivation may be external (for example, social approval) or internal (satisfaction from a job well-done, for instance). External sources tend to be transient, while internal sources tend to produce more consistent performance." And nineteen more all-too-familiar reasons.
  • The Web’s Five Most Endangered Words: "The five most endangered words of the realtime internet era are: Let me think about that. [..] When confronted with the realtime web's constant flow of incoming information, who has time for a full set of facts? We each take a few seconds to consider a one hundred forty character blurb and then hammer out our reactions by way of a Tweet or status update. […] Other news and information doesn't necessarily fit into the new instant-response model. But as everything merges into a single stream, it's getting more difficult to turn off the reflex and the sense of urgency long enough to identify the data that requires a little more consideration."
  • The 9 Greatest Dystopian Music Videos: "Musicians love to buck conformity. And what better metaphor for fighting social pressure than a good dystopian music video? Here are 9 of our favorites." Best part about this post: Rick Springfield's "Bop 'Till You Drop". Not for the song — ugh, that's the kind of '80s pop I don't need to remember — but I've had that video in my head for years now, and have never been able to remember what song it was for. I could clearly remember the look, the slaves, the alien overlord, and the singer swinging ahead of the laser blasts until the alien is killed, and really wanted to find the video again, but was never able to…until io9 put this post up. Awesome. The video's still fun to watch…I just wish it went with a better song.
  • SLEDGEHAMMER and WHORE: "WOMAN: 'Well…I met someone claiming to be you on the internet and he paid me to come to your office and have sex with him. Only he didn't pay me. He left. And now I've wasted my whole fucking night.' At which point I write the word 'hooker' on the bottom of the envelope I'm using to take notes and hold it up for the wife. Now, it is perhaps a testimony or a condemnation to the way that I've lived my life that at no point during my conversation with this hooker calling me from my office and asking for payment does my wife for EVEN AN INSTANT think that perhaps, yes, she should be concerned that a hooker is calling her husband at home asking for payment. Now I don't know about the rest of you, but this is a first for me, and my mind is racing. What to do? What information do I need? How do I go about getting it? I'm proud of myself for writing 'hooker' on the envelope but I know I've got to do better than that. What pops into my head is: WHAT WOULD THE MENTALIST DO?"
  • BP Cleanup Workers Gone Wild: "'We'll be here as long as oil keeps washing up,' the contractor says. 'So…' I laugh sort of helplessly. 'A year?' 'Three years…' he says. 'Five years…' 'Hopefully forever,' the guy next to him says. 'I need this job if I can't work offshore anymore.' Last week, the emcee that accompanies the oil wrestlers yelled into the microphone, 'Let that oil gush! Let that money flow!' The workers–part of the new Grand Isle scenery of helicopters, Hummers, and National Guardsmen, serious people in uniforms and coveralls and work boots–the workers around the wrestling ring, drunk and blowing cash from jobs that might kill them, cheered."