Aneesh Sathe

I’m on the last book of the Long Earth Series, The Long Cosmos and reading it makes me sad and wistful. Perhaps it’s knowing that Terry Pratchett didn’t live to see it published, perhaps it’s the little hints and hooks of Discworld. Whatever it is, there are parts of the book where I laugh out loud, like when Sancho calls himself “The Librarian” and then I’m plunged into soft sadness.

“My grandfather rode a camel, my father rode a camel, I drive a Mercedes, my son drives a Land Rover, his son will drive a Land Rover, but his son will ride a camel,” Hong Kong of the Desert So goes the old Middle East proverb about the rise and fall of Dubai’s prosperity. The world is going through a similar cycle of prosperity in the context of accessing accurate information. However, with worsening search results Research: Is Google Getting Worse? | Media article:Researchers confirm what we already knew: Google results really are getting worse , and alternatives like ChatGPT that are …

Completely randomly on mastodon I came across this wonderful tool via Ada. It’s not fancy, it’s a funky looking, but I was instantly in love. Here it is: Giant Heart Poetry It has a syllable counting function and I used it immediately to write (bad) haikus… here are a few: Sanity is found in boxes Life spills. Unraveled. Collect it all, tick boxes GTD keeps me A Flying Kite Caught A flying kite caught Winter’s saddest ocean breeze Little boy giggled

There is a fetishism around management artifacts, handbooks, spreadsheets, memos and more. People who like the idea of being a leader but lack experience look at these artifacts and think that whatever goes into the artifacts is how the world will function. This micromanagement flavour of command and control forgets that there are people involved. Leaders must remember that the people who you are leading are just like you and, crucially, that they are closer to the problem. Strategies crumble when they leave out the team’s intelligence, insight, and input. Therefore, building a culture of …

The year was 1989, Solapur, then a small town in India. I’m about 4 years old attending one of the kindergarten years at St. Joseph’s Highschool. The days feel endless and everything has a sheen of significance. During recess me and a friend haunt the area just off from the main playground. This was an area that we’re not exactly allowed to go to, but not exactly forbidden either. What makes this place worth the apparent risk is that it’s full of pebbles. This is a place where treasure is to be sought. You see, a few days ago I had found a particularly interesting shiny stone and given it to …