Prosper.com: the Greatest Thing Since Monogrammed Dishtowls

I just stumbled upon a scheme that I'm convinced will ultimately make me rich. It's not unlike a pyramid scheme, in that it depends on my ability to recruit others to actually succeed in the 'getting rich' part. It differs slightly from a pyramid scheme in that it isn't illegal, nor is it unethical or unpatriotic. It's just smart.

I'm talking about the new rage in the investment world, peer-to-peer lending, and more specifically, it's Prosper.com (a p2p lending pioneer based in San Francisco, CA) that has perked up my money-loving ears.

The basic idea behind Prosper is to allow people to cut out the greedy institutions from the lending scene and allow the normal Joe to lend or borrow money directly from his peers at not-so-bad rates (the average rate earned on a Prosper loan is between 8% and 10%).

Of course, the ability to earn such great rates is contingent on the lender accepting the responsibility if a borrower defaults on his loan (these are un-secured loans). But Prosper gives the lender the ability to look at the credit grade of individuals seeking loans, along with financial information such as income, expenses and credit history. The borrower has a chance to make a statement about why he thinks his loan should be funded and to answer any questions the potential loaners might have.

The whole point is to keep everything as safe and convenient as possible, so as to attract new users. You should take a look! It's fun, relatively safe, and profitable. And if you click on the link below, and sign up to be a lender, you'll get $25 when you help fund your first loan (incidentally, so will I). So click! It won't hurt, I promise! You'll thank me later! And I'll get rich!

Click here for lending opportunities!

Marvel Mixes Business and Pleasure

Marvel Entertainment Corp., the media giant that produced such graphical successes as The Amazing Spiderman, and The Incredible Hulk, not to mention The X-Men, etc., has come up with a new way to make money: Putting their comic books online, and charging people to read them. Read the story.

I think the idea of putting the comics online is a great one. I think of the web as a huge repository for information that should tend toward containing ALL of the world's digital content (see the Google Mission Statement).

On the other hand, I think that Marvel's mistake is in charging for access to its web content. I think they're driving away a large potential audience with their greed. Instead of charging a monthly fee, I think they should sell advertising space (through Google AdSense, preferably) and make money the same way that other successful companies do.

There's a huge number of semi-fans of comic books (I should know; I'm one of them) who have never bought a comic book in their lives, but think they're cool enough to read if they don't have to pay for them. I often flip through them at bookstores for a couple seconds. But, the problem is that if I can't be convinced to buy one of them, Marvel doesn't make money (and neither does any other comic book publishing company). Marvel has never earned a cent from me in comic book sales (though I admit, I did go to see several films based on comic books).

On the other hand, I might quite possibly be convinced to read more comic books if it were more convenient (for instance, if they were online), but I would never pay for the privilege. If Marvel offered their merchandise on an ad-supported platform, they could finally make that buck off the cheapskates of the world.

Comic book buffs won't stop buying comic books just because they're available online, and those of us who're too cheap to buy the real thing aren't going to shell out our hard earned bucks for something even less tangible.

Sorry, Marvel. This one's not going to stick.

Nothing Doin'

If someone asked me what was going on with me, and were in a particularly honest mood, and they were someone I trusted implicitly, I would tell them that nothing was going on. If I didn't trust them, or my mood was somewhat less truthful, I would probably invent a story about how I learned that I am a superhero, and I saved the world (and got the girl), and starred in my on blockbuster movie. Unfortunately, I'm not sure what type of mood I'm in right now, so I'm kind of at a loss for words.

Not that I expect you, my valient and intrepid readers, to simpathize with me very much on that point. You, by the very fact that you are reading this blog, have proven yourselves to be among the worlds most brilliant minds. And by no stretch of logic at all, I assert that smart people are much less likely to become depressed. I mean, look at Ernest Hemingway, or Sherlock Holmes or . . . oh.

Ok, so maybe intelligent people are somewhat prone to depression. But that doesn't prove anything, does it? I mean, I never said that I was smart (in this post, anyway), and sure, my fianceé is in Europe for the time being (five weeks!), but that doesn't have to affect my ability to function. Who's in control of my life, anyway? I don't have to let the fact that I'm not getting enough sleep and I'm working way too much get to me, and I'm not going to. I can be happy, I know I can!

I will, too, as soon as I figure out how to work the can opener.

What a Hoot!

I think owls are interesting, don't you? They have all of those feathers, they stay up all night and sleep during the day, and they spit on the ground. They have those amazing necks that allow them to twist all the way around, just like in the Exorcist. Isn't that great?

The best thing is that people say that owls are so wise and all-knowing. I don't know where that idea came from. I mean, come on! Because they have big, forward-facing eyes and they thin the rodent population a little, we call them intelligent. That doesn't make any sense. I wrote a computer program yesterday that converts mathematical formulae written as text to formatted GIFs that can be displayed on a web page. It was very difficult, and though it's still in the pre-alpha stage (development), I'm very pleased with it and how well it functions, considering the fact that I had thought such a thing to be impossible only 24 hours before.

I got called a genius by my boss (he likes to call me that for some reason), and I think that puts me way ahead of any old owl on the intelligence scale (I'd like to see an owl - or any bird, for that matter - write his own blog without some type of assistance), and yet, they're the one's with the reputation for wisdom and understanding of complex issues. I'd like to see one of them do my job!

On second thought, it'd probably regurgitate half-digested mouse on my keyboard.

Deciduous What You Want

I thought briefly today about the nature of trees. This happened while I was in the shower, which is where most of my wierd topics come from (unless I'm doing something else, in which case, I get ideas from that). Basically, I was pondering about the fundimental differences between deciduous and coniferous trees. As you no doubt know, a deciduous tree loses its leaves every fall and becomes dorment during the winter (e.g. oak, elm), while a coniferous tree is characterized by its penchant for cold climates and it's ability to keep its foliage the entire year.

A deciduous tree generally has denser wood than its coniferous counterpart, and takes longer to grow. This makes its wood more valuable, and explains why a hundred-year-old oak tree is seldom as large as a pine of the same age: people keep chopping the branches off the oak to make walking-sticks and stuff (I've done it myself, I admit).

After trying unsuccessfully to draw parallels between the differences between the two types of trees and the two genders (it was too hard for shower-time thinking), I came to the realization: Deciduous is a really wierd word. I decided to try and figure out what it meant from the sound/spelling (I didn't know exactly how to spell it, but I do now, OK?).

After a careful analysis of more than two seconds, I decided that the word deciduous is derived from the Greek words decidu, which means 'decide' or 'decision', and ous, or 'that which cannot', clearly indicating that the Greeks don't know how to spell. Of course, it also implies that deciduous trees can't make up their minds about anything, which is also indicated by the fact that when most people are wearing less (in the summer), they put on all of their clothes, and when everyone else is bundled up in thirteen layers, those fickle deciduous trees are sitting there, naked, often in deep snow.

I can't understand the type that would decide to do that.

Get a Move On!

I've decided to invent my own type of dance. It'll be a type of ballet with rap and funk mixed in to create a truly unique style. I imagine that it'll become extremely popular and that I will be rich and famous. I can picture myself making music videos and performing my new style on the stage in front of thousands of mindless, screaming fans. I believe that this is my destiny if I can only make up a dance that will sell.

Who am I kidding? I can't dance, and my abilities to make up a dance are totally untried. What right do I have to think that I can challenge and best those who have been doing it for years? Oh, yeah; I know what: I'm a lot smarter than they are*. Also, I haven't polluted myself by learning existing styles of dance, so I can be sure that whatever I come up with will be completely original.

So, to start, I need to describe what I want from my new dance. I think that I should take the smooth, graceful qualities from the ballet, and pair it up with the moves from break dancing, and I should come up with something unique and interesting. Except, wait: That sounds a lot like swing (when it's done right).

OK, starting over, I take the staccato motions from rap and funk, and join in the absolute control of ballet . . . . Yeah! That sounds like it'll work! I can imagine dancers doing my dance (even myself, maybe!) onstage, looking like . . . robots on steroids. But they'll be graceful!

Maybe I should just stick to writing (and whatever else I do for a living [wouldn't you like to know?])

*A notable exception would obviously be my fianceé, who is an excellent dancer. I wouldn't dare say that I'm smarter than she is; she'd kill me!

Making a Fashion Statement

I am not what you would call color coordinated, and I'm the antonym of a fashion saavy individual. In fact, if I had to choose between periwinkle and mauve for, say, a hat, I probably wouldn't be able to tell them apart, let alone decide which one would look better on me. But this is only a handicap from a certain perspective, one that I am lacking.

You see, I believe that clothes have a specific purpose: to keep us from being naked. If we didn't care about being naked, we wouldn't use clothes, and it's as simple as that. So, most people would agree, the function of clothes is extremely important, and I'm not the type to prefer form to function. I like clothes that are easy to put on and take off, and that cover the parts of my body that I don't want everyone to be able to see. It's that simple.

In Brazil they have a strapless type of dress that is held up by elastics. It's called, in Portuguese, Tomara Que Caia, which means literally, 'I Hope It Falls Off'. Does that sound like a piece of clothing that was designed with 'function' as first priority? No, I bet the designer thought that it would look cute (and it does), but what happens when it lives up to it's name? 'Oops' is not a strong enough word for your standard all-my-clothes-spontaniously-fell-off situation, let me tell you. And you can be sure that they do fall off, occasionally (or they wouldn't have a name like that, would they?), so can you see where this is going?

It's a sign that the end of the world is closer that most people would care to admit.

Concerning Ambiguity

I was thinking briefly about the title of my blog, and it struck me: I am either extremely stuck up, with an enormous ego, or I'm incredibly lazy, and I have no work ethic. And that doesn't take into account the possibility that I'm both stuck up and lazy, which some would consider to be the most likely of all.

But seriously, could I have picked a better title? I mean, it doesn't restrict me at all. I can talk about anything that I want, and I would be arguably within the strictures of my title. For example, a post on the war in Iraq (for or against, it doesn't matter) would be just as appropriate as one about a whale with a toothache. I could write an entry about the astrophysical characteristics of quasars, then turn around and comment on public restrooms in Weatherly, Pennsylvania, and it would fit. Isn't that great?

I think the best thing about having such a a non-informative title for my blog is that, whatever I happen to write about, it gives the impression that it wasn't very taxing on my abilities, that "there's a lot more where that came from." That's a real ego booster, let me tell you.

I feel another dose coming.

The Heat's On!

I went to the gym today. I had a lot of fun swimming and working out on the machines. maybe I had a little too much fun, because I'm really sore right now. My philosophy says that if it doesn't hurt then you aren't hurting yourself. I mean, you aren't having a good workout. So typically, I like to max out whatever muscle group that I happen to be working on. That gives me a pleasant sore feeling for the rest of the week, during which time I have a good excuse for being lazy and surly.

So I've been thinking about working out in general, and I thought that I would like it if there were workout machines that would do your workout for you, while you did more productive things, like read a book, watch TV, build a bridge, etc. See that's the biggest problem with working out: It's boring. I mean the counting and stuff are interesting for the first twenty-nine seconds, but, let's face it, I learned to count to ten when I was about three. It lost it's magic years ago.

So I was thinking of inventing a machine that numbs you from the neck down and, using electric shocks causes your muscles to work out, without you even knowing about it. And it could have a headset that you could use for watching television or surfing the web. Half an hour in that baby per day, and you could have your swimmer's body in less that three months! At least, that's what I'm counting on.

I the future, people won't have to work to look and feel good, it'll be automatic. Everyone will be in great shape, and they'll be living longer than ever. Isn't that great?

Great; Lets go do some online shopping.

Great Galumphing Giant Gains Gaudy Guard Group; Grows Greater; Good!

Aside from the clever alliteration, almost no one in the world (unless they were neurotic or on some pretty nasty drugs) would see anything at all interesting in the title of today's (second) post. Anyone looking at it would, with few exceptions, think that in the very least it makes no sense, probably would have second thoughts about whether or not he really wants to read the post associated with said title.

Congratulations, you have survived the challenge; you made it to the second paragraph. You are probably among the 99th percentile in the category of sheer persistence (or possibly hero worship). Most would have given up long before this. Of course, what you really want is to know what the title means. 'What in the world do Galumphing Giants want with Gaudy Guard Groups in the first place,' you're probably asking yourself. 'Is it alliteration for the alliteration's sake only, or does it have some higher, hidden meaning, or possibly a metaphor, ensconced in it's apparently unprepossessing innards?' In response, I pose another question (you really hate it when I do that, don't you? Well, it's called the Socratic Method, and it's very academical-esque, so just deal with it): Do titles normally have 'innards', even apparently unprepossessing ones? I just though I'd see if you knew.

All right, calm down! I was just getting to the point! The title refers in poetic terms (by which I used a great deal of poetic licence) to the fact that Google, Inc.'s (ticker symbol GOOG) stock price recently shot to record levels when they announced the purchase of an obscure security software named Postini (does that sound like a front for the Italian Mafia to you, too?). Obviously, the 'Galumphing Giant' part refers to Google, and the 'Gaudy Guard Group' is Postini. I'm a Google fan, but I couldn't think of anything better to call it.

So, big letdown, huh? You thought it would be something spectacular. You've probably gotten accustomed to the level of hype that my previous posts have generated, and you can't handle the fact that I write about semi-mundane topics sometimes, too. Am I right? Well, get over it!

Or I'll have my 'Galumphing Giant' step on you!

Link to news article

Fifth wheel, that's me!

Have you ever been in a situation where you feel like your presence was not important, and all your contributions could just as easily (or in many cases more easily) have been made by another person? Have you ever been in a group where everyone else has something interesting to say, and you, either though shyness, or a genuine lack of social grace, were forced to stand in the background, just listening? Have you ever caused one of those awkward breaks in the conversation that cause people to develop a strange and urgent need to be somewhere else, possibly with your mere arrival?

Have no fear. You are part of a group of people - the elite few - who are unable to function in normal society. So we (yes, I am one, too) form fake societies to hide out inabilities. On of the most common outlets for our frustrations are make-believes like Dungeons and Dragons, and games of that ilk. If you have it especially bad, you might happily spend all of your time without any type of human contact, and play video or computer games for hours on end. Or, you could like me, spend hours reading books by your favorite author, sometimes several times in a row (Alright, I'm a loser; so what?)

So, in order to quash the complaints of my weak consience ("You should be out there, meeting people, and having a good, sociable time. What are you getting out of that book that you can't get from a healthy dose of social interation?" or "How about a road trip with the guys? You know you want to!") I have decided to form a new club. It will be exclusively for people like you and me who are (and you can quote me on this) smart enough to not want to associate themselves with the uncouth and overly verbed masses. I call my new organization Caecus Amicabiliter Monasteriense which is, according to tranexp.com, Blind Social Monsters in Latin. Isn't that a great name?

As a member of C.A.M. (we'll call it that because none of us really knows how to pronounce the full name) you will have access to all of the benefits of being a member, whatever those may be. We'll probably spend a lot of time during our meetings practicing those awkward silences that have made us so popular in the first place. Then we could play some D&D, and go home early.

When our powers have been developed to their fullest potential, I plan to make a bid for world domination. With our abilities combined, we'll be able to stop a converstation from a mile away (it'll take a little bit of practice). Think of what would happen to the U.N. if one of those awkward silences descended during one of their meetings. I can imagine that it wouldn't be pretty.

I'll courier you a membership application.

Animal Extrapolation: Time's Up!

Two injured humpback whales lost in the Sacramento/San Joaquin River refuse to respond to attempts to lead them to safety. A hog of truly immense proportions is bagged (not literally) by a young hunter in Georgia. A 150 pound sea turtle receives a CAT scan to assess an old war wound. A vampiric peacock is slain in a fast-food parking lot. A buffalo in Nepal gives birth to a full grown snake (now that's amazing!).

What do all of these recent news stories have in common? Well, first, they're all about animals. And they're all about animals displaying strange behavior and/or size. And together, as you've already figured out (being the amazing intellects that you are), they are a sign of the end of the world.

Well, think about it: This type of event is becoming more common every week. In the not too distant past, you could go for days without hearing about a talking elephant or a snake eating/regurgitating a buffalo. There was even a time (you aren't going to believe this), when supermarket tabloids had to report on politics and stuff, because there wasn't anything more interesting going on. Why, in George Washington's time (I have this from a reliable source) supermarket tabloids didn't exist at all (I know, I was sceptical about that at first, too)!

In a few years we won't be able to leave the safety of our bathroom without hearing about some new freak of nature or aparently miraculous regurgitation. This, I predict, will cause a widespread and uncontrolled (indeed, uncontrollable) epidemic of insanity, which will eventually cause the sun to explode. I realize that may seem a little bit far-fetched, but then, you have been watching an episode of The Simpsons, so look who's talking!

Actual links to actual news articles:

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2007/05/26/MNG5JQ2AOU1.DTL

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/nation/4837745.html

http://www.sptimes.com/2007/05/26/Hillsborough/Injured_turtle_gets_C.shtml

http://www.kansascity.com/286/story/174084.html

http://www.gorkhapatra.org.np/content.php?nid=22550

Way to show those dolphins who's boss!

The United States Government is conducting 'War Games' in the Persian Gulf off the coast of Iran. It is obviously a carefully planned move meant to strengthen the position of the United Nations negotiators (who want to get Iran to stop refining uranium). It was a fine idea, but one that possibly could have been thought out a little bit better, for several reasons:

1. Iran, in all likelihood, does not yet know about the presence of the fleet (which consists of two nuclear powered aircraft carriers and seven other smaller ships) since the entire population of the country is in underground bunkers helping to refine uranium with their new, patent pending hand-sifting process. They will find out about this 'show of force' from CNN, just as I did, only after the fact (do they have TV or Internet over there?).
2. The leaders of Iran (who are the same mad scientist types who invented their new 'refining process' and who always turn up to ruin perfectly good Superman movies) would love to entice the United States to start a war on another front. They are working in conjunction with North Korea in an evil plot to take over the world (or as they would have it, to stop the U.S. from taking it over). Eventually, if these two countries have their way, the United States will be embroiled in at least four major conflicts (approaching the world record set by the British Empire near the time of its collapse).
3. What are the Iranians going to do with a bunch of refined uranium, anyway? They aren't technologically advanced enough to create actual weapons and/or launching platforms to use it (the uranium) in. And of course, claims by Iran and its leaders that they are simply building nuclear power plants are absurd, too. So that only leaves one possibility: they are creating a collectors series of the world's heaviest baseballs, each etched with a reproduction of a major league player's signature. It's the only possibility that makes sense!

So, if the United States had thought just a little but more, it would have seen that Iran is not the real threat. The real threat in much closer to home: Egg McMuffins! They look healthy, they taste great, and they fill you up! I think it's too good to be true!

So, let's have some war games in the McDonald's parking lot. That'll show them who's boss!

Link to news article

Who'd have thought?

I don't like to write about things that matter. I don't like to express my opinion about controversial topics. I don't like to expose myself to public ridicule. These are things that do not make me happy (of course, that just raises the question of 'why are you writing a blog in the first place, if you don't like these things?'). So, the trend in topics I choose for my posts will be toward items that are irrelevant or that I completely make up. Perhaps this reveals more about me than anything else that I could say about myself.

This is not one of those posts. I have decided to address a real-world issue in today's post. It is something that real people are interested in: the existence of silica on Mars. Obviously, the average person does not spend much time wondering about whether there is silica on the red planet. In fact, the average person has not had that thought even once in his non-productive life. But, after being told that there is, in fact, silica on the surface of Mars, in large refined quantities, the average person will come to one conclusion: This was caused by flowing water!

Just kidding! The average person, knowing that microchips are made almost entirely out of silicon (a major ingredient of silica), and that the presence of microchips on an otherwise uninhabited planet would be evidence of intelligent life, would naturally be lead to the conclusion that Mars though clearly uninhabited now, had, at one time hosted intelligent life.

That leads us to the question: Then where did these intelligent beings go? What happened to them? Did they transcend their mortal forms and shift up to a higher plane of being? Did they die out because they lost the ability to reproduce themselves? There could be many different, related theories, all having one element in common: they're all wrong.

The only theory that makes any sense at all is that the Martians were destroyed in a failed invasion of the Earth in the late 1890's. Since the entire population of the Martian species was wiped out, their advanced technology, abandoned for more than a century, was reduced to powder by the violent Martian sandstorms. All that is left of that civilization is some powdered silica hidden under a layer of sand.

Sad, huh? But at least we won.

Link to news article

Whereever I Feel Like, DUH!

I have often been asked a fairly stupid question. I have never taken the time to really answer this question, thinking that such condesending behavior was not only beneath me, but also that it would only lead to more questions of the same ilk. I have finally chosen it as the topic for the pilot post to my new weblog (blog, for those in the know). I hope that this will finally close the subject once and for all, and not, as I fear that it will, open a new can of smelly worms.

The question that has been haunting me (and many other professional writers as well) for some time is this: Where in the world do you get all those great ideas?

Can you see why that's a stupid question? Of course you can. You're reading my blog, which shows at least a middlingly high level of intelligence. Which raises a question: will it do any good to talk about the issue here, where it probably won't change anything or do any good? Am I better off descending to a less intellectual forum in order to propagate my displeasure more effectively (perhaps the Harvard University Gazette, or something of the kind).

But, it occurs to me that my faithful readers (or soon to be faithful; we won't really know until you choose to read the next one) can probably be trusted to get the word out about this extremely irritating and distressingly oft-repeated question, and my feelings about those who raise it. Thank you for your kind service. You may have some ice cream now.

Kibbles and bits

I have never actually eaten dog food. I had an interesting experience once with cat food, but I was young, and it doesn't appear to have had any effect on my I.Q. or my attention span. But it is not on the agenda today to talk about cats or the food thereof. We are scheduled to talk about dog food, as clearly indicated by the title.

I don't have a very high opinion of dogs. I'm a cat man myself. I don't particularly enjoy being jumped on or barked at, and I can't imagine craving the intellectual stimulation of stick-throwing. The whole thing just doesn't appeal to me.

I also have a hard time liking things that I can't respect, and I can't respect something that I obviously don't understand, and I can't understand how dogs can choke down commercially produced dog food. The very smell is extremely repugnant. I can't imagine the type of hunger that would induce me to actually try to eat the stuff. That's besides the fact that (the dry stuff, at least) is extremely dry. And they don't even put milk on it.

I have the perfect solution to this problem. But, it requires the cooperation of our canine counterparts. So I appeal to you, my four-legged friends, let us put out differences behind us in the rubbish heap of forgotten differences. Let us work together for a new and better world, where dry dog food will no longer be forced on those of us too dumb to know that it doesn't taste good.

My plan is simple and brilliant. We must mobilize all animals of the canine species and call a world-wide hunger strike. We will enter into a vow to never again touch dry dog food again. It will be hard, but we must be strong. And, together, we will prevail, as we have never been able to seperately. We will make our statement. We will make a difference.

And if you must give in and eat some of the horrible stuff, at least put some milk on it!