What Our Words Tell Us. The database doesn’t tell you how the words were used; it just tells you how frequently they were used. Still, results can reveal interesting cultural shifts. For example, somebody typed the word “cocaine” into the search engine and found that the word was surprisingly common in the Victorian era. Then it gradually declined during the 20th century until around 1970, when usage skyrocketed. I’d like to tell a story about the last half-century, based on studies done with this search engine. The first element in this story is rising individualism. That is to say, over those 48 years, words and phrases like “personalized,” “self,” “standout,” “unique,” “I come first” and “I can do it myself” were used more frequently. The second element of the story is demoralization. The Kesebirs identified 50 words associated with moral virtue and found that 74 percent were used less frequently as the century progressed. Usage of humility words like “modesty” and “humbleness” dropped by 52 percent.
The Collected Letters of Marissa Mayer and David Karp. It seems like only yesterday I asked a Yahoo!
Intern to explain to me what a “Tumblr” was, but when I saw that dashboard, full of content being created and shared by demographics that weren’t even born when my company started, I knew that I wanted—no, needed—to acquire you. The results from my Yahoo! Internet search only confirmed what I knew in my heart: David Karp is one of the nicest, most empathetic people on the planet, and we would make great partners. Affectionately, Marissa Marissa, Am I just another start-up to add to your collection? Fuck no, David Oh David, you wound me! Marissa Lovely Marissa, I fear I have nothing to offer you. Regretfully, David My darling David, Don’t let these earthly considerations stand in the way of our relationship. Oh, I was looking at some of your photos online the other day. Complete List - Top 10 Commencement Speeches.
THIS IS WATER. Shouts & Murmurs: Four Short Crushes. Well, well, well.
Just look at you, walking into this dreary bar and lighting the place up like the noonday sun at midnight, twirling a lock of your long auburn hair pensively as you search the room—for what? For a soul mate, perhaps? (I know, I know—I hate that phrase, too. Maybe that will end up being one of those things we both hate.) Maybe a few weeks from now, lying in your bed on a Sunday morning, I’ll ask you, “What’s your least favorite word or phrase? But I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe when your gaze settles on me, and we lock eyes in that mutual Hitchcockian tunnel-vision effect where the camera is, like, pushing in at the same time it zooms out, or however they do that, you’ll come sit down next to me and we’ll— Now you’ve spotted the friends you came to meet.
Maybe they’ll be my friends, too. Our friends. Your eyes just came to life like emeralds lit by subterranean torches, and as you move across the room toward your friends you shriek at them, “What the fuck is up, yo?