I spent much of the holiday weekend reading Neal Stephenson’s science fiction epic Seveneves. There’s a lot to love about the book, not the least of which are little gems like this:

“He had had many conversations during his long life. Some were fascinating and stayed with him more than a century later. Others were less so. As a younger man he had tolerated those as part of the cost of doing business—a sort of tax that all people must pay in order to take part in civilized society. When he had turned one hundred, he had decided to stop paying that tax. Henceforth he would engage only in conversations that really interested him…”

So, I guess the question is, do I have to wait until I’m one hundred? Because I’ve pretty much already started.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  comments(3)

I’ve had the good fortune of working with a lot of great people over the course of my career. One of them is Brian Jones, a print sales rep I’ve known for more than 30 years. Brian just retired as sales manager at Lawton Printing. An official celebration was held in his honor last Thursday, when the photo at top was taken (L to R: Darin Klündt, Brian, and John Mraz).

The photo below, on the other hand, was taken way back in March of 1986. That’s me, at right, pointing out several flaws during a press check. You know—just another designer making life miserable for the printer.

Thank you, Brian, for all the support you’ve provided me on countless projects during your long and distinguished career. And for all the crazy press checks you’ve endured. (Not just mine, either. You know who I’m talkin’ about.)

posted by: CK Anderson  |  category: the design life  |  comments(1)

Long before helveticka began working with Bouten Construction, I had a minor connection to them. My home town of Chewelah was preparing to construct a new hospital while my mom chaired the St. Joseph’s Hospital board of directors. It was completed in August of 1983—a full three years before Frank Bouten’s son, Bill, would join the family construction business (and ultimately become its president). My mom recalls a group of Chewelah citizens traveling to Washington, D.C. to visit congressman Tom Foley in hopes of getting the last of the low-interest federal dollars available to help with construction. In typical fashion, Mr. Foley came through for his eastern Washington constituents.

posted by: CK Anderson  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment

“Can metaphors be designed?” asks Michael Erard. They can—and they are:

In the 1960s, the US philosopher Donald Schön spent some time at the consulting firm Arthur D Little (he eventually became a professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology nearby). He was working with product researchers trying to figure out why a new paintbrush design with synthetic bristles didn’t apply paint smoothly. As Schön related it later, someone in the group suddenly said: ‘A paintbrush is a kind of pump!’

Erard admits that the idea of paintbrush-as-pump isn’t beautiful, but it’s useful. And that’s the point of metaphor design.

Read more over at Aeon magazine.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: the writing life  |  make a comment

The Reverend Sydney Smith to his son-in-law, Dr. Henry Holland, June 8, 1835—180 years ago today:

I am suffering from my old complaint, the hay-fever (as it is called). My fear is of perishing by deliquescence. I melt away in nasal and lachrymal profluvia. My remedies are warm pediluvium, cathartics, topical application of a watery solution of opium to eyes, ears, and the interior of the nostrils. The membrane is so irritable, that light, dust, contradiction, an absurd remark, the sight of a dissenter—anything, sets me a-sneezing and if I begin sneezing at twelve I don’t leave off till two o’clock—and am heard distinctly in Taunton, when the wind sets that way, at a distance of six miles. Turn your mind to this little curse. If consumption is too powerful for physicians at least they should not suffer themselves to be outwitted by such little upstart disorders as the hay-fever.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: the writing life  |  make a comment

Back in 2012, I alerted readers to the Australian slang word boofy. At the time, I wondered whether a term that seemed to apply to both CK and me—when it should be clear to even the most casual observer that we’re, well…completely different—had any linguistic value whatsoever.

But I hadn’t considered the possible derivations.

Just yesterday, the New South Wales parliament unanimously voted to condemn television personality Eddie McGuire as a “boofhead” for “racist comments.” Set aside for a moment my profound disappointment in seeing Australia, of all places, clutching its pearls over a tenuous claim of racism; I like where this is going. From boofy to boofhead to…? (Help me out, Aussie readers.)

I’ve always thought that we Americans had mastered the art of idiomatic derivation: dumb, dummy, dumbhead, dumbass, dumbsh*t, dumbf—, and so on. I obviously shouldn’t have been so quick to discount a country with venomous trees, drunk feral pigs, and 65,486 Jedi.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: the writing life  |  make a comment

Eva Braun’s unmentionables are “first rate: the fabric, embroidery and monogramming, the sewing of the button,” says Ernie Scarango. And they can be yours for only $7,500. As for their provenance, well…that’s another story entirely.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  comments(1)

Over at Helveticahaus, intern/apprentice/go-to gal Morgan Lynch has a great post on the true meaning of National Hamburger Day.

What? You haven’t heard about Helveticahaus? Here is a great place to start.

posted by: Aaron Bragg  |  category: random thoughts  |  make a comment