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Stephen Pickering

Author: Stephen Pickering

  • FriendFeed Is In Danger of Becoming the Coolest App Everyone Uses

    I waited with baited anticipation for today. When Scoble said Friday that FriendFeed, a service that’d up until now I’ve only thought of as a backend aggregator of everyone’s Social Media (it is that too) was coming out with a new, improved UI today, my first thought was merely, “Oh, how nice.” Somehow in my…

  • Little Night Poem

    I don’t care what the foam sea squalls say: The mountains are made of mint. Green I spend gliding upon the emotion- Less ramp besieged by the creepy Count de Bourgie Of my psyche. The orphaned Queen of my heart will jump Straight down into her moat and drown If the adventurer of my soul…

  • Hey Xippy!

    Hey Xippy!, I lost my father on March 1st, ironically enough my birthday. It was a world turning upside down experience. We talked like ten times a day all my life. I’ve always had this phobia of dead bodies, so the day he died I didn’t think I could go into the room. But something…

  • One Art

    You know there’s so much good music out there, good poems, good art, you can just consume it like food. And then you think Art is like a Metaphor for the most innermost part of your being actualized. You know like dancing is a metaphor for effortless motion, and singing a metaphor for exuberance. Art…

  • We Need A Gold Standard for Economic Prosperity

    (Two email letters I sent concerning this subject) March 22nd, 2009 Dear Adam Curry (@adamcurry), Ending inflation and deflation is very simple. All that has to happen is for the Fed to keep the dollar/gold ratio in a tight range by printing dollars when the price of gold gets too low (ie 1997, $10 barrel…

  • Beginning a New Poem (In Beta 1.1)

    Dear Father, I love you, what can I say? These eyes I have can see only little Sweet Gum covered hills, But the eye of my soul can see through a million endless Nights kept alive by the fire of your hearth. The heart of the mountain that peeks through the clouds Of our misty…