篇1:Ted 演讲稿精选

when i was nine years old i went off to summer camp for the first time. and my mother packed me a suitcase full of books, which to me seemed like a perfectly natural thing to do. because in my family, reading was the primary group activity. and this might sound antisocial to you, but for us it was really just a different way of being social. you have the animal warmth of your family sitting right next to you, but you are also free to go roaming around the adventureland inside your own mind. and i had this idea that camp was going to be just like this, but better. (laughter) i had a vision of 10 girls sitting in a cabin cozily reading books in their matching nightgowns.


camp was more like a keg party without any alcohol. and on the very first day our counselor gathered us all together and she taught us a cheer that she said we would be doing every day for the rest of the summer to instill camp spirit. and it went like this: “r-o-w-d-i-e, that's the way we spell rowdie. rowdie, rowdie, let's get rowdie.” yeah. so i couldn't figure out for the life of me why we were supposed to be so rowdy, or why we had to spell this word incorrectly. (laughter) but i recited a cheer. i recited a cheer along with everybody else. i did my best. and i just waited for the time that i could go off and read my books.

but the first time that i took my book out of my suitcase, the coolest girl in the bunk came up to me and she asked me, “why are you being so mellow?” -- mellow, of course, being the exact opposite of r-o-w-d-i-e. and then the second time i tried it, the counselor came up to me with a concerned expression on her face and she repeated the point about camp spirit and said we should all work very hard to be outgoing.

and so i put my books away, back in their suitcase, and i put them under my bed, and there they stayed for the rest of the summer. and i felt kind of guilty about this. i felt as if the books needed me somehow, and they were calling out to me and i was forsaking them. but i did forsake them and i didn't open that suitcase again until i was back home with my family at the end of the summer.

now, i tell you this story about summer camp. i could have told you 50 others just like it -- all the times that i got the message that somehow my quiet and introverted style of being was not necessarily the right way to go, that i should be trying to pass as more of an extrovert. and i always sensed deep down that this was wrong and that introverts were pretty excellent just as they were. but for years i denied this intuition, and so i became a wall street lawyer, of all things, instead of the writer that i had always longed to be -- partly because i needed to prove to myself that i could be bold and assertive too. and i was always going off to crowded bars when i really would have preferred to just have a nice dinner with friends. and i made these self-negating choices so reflexively, that i wasn't even aware that i was making them.


chinese restaurants have played an important role in american history, as a matter of fact. the cuban missile crisis was resolved in a chinese restaurant called yenching palace in washington, d.c., which unfortunately is closed now, and about to be turned into walgreen's. and the house that john wilkes booth planned the assassination of abraham lincoln is actually also now a chinese restaurant called wok 'n roll, on h street in washington.


and if you think about it, a lot of the foods that you think of or we think of or americans think of as chinese food are barely recognizable to chinese, for e_ample: beef with broccoli, egg rolls, general tso's chicken, fortune cookies, chop suey, the take-out bo_es.


so, the interesting question is, how do you go from fortune cookies being something that is japanese to being something that is chinese? well, the short answer is, we locked up all the japanese during world war ii, including those that made fortune cookies, so that's the time when the chinese moved in, kind of saw a market opportunity and took over.


general tso's chicken -- which, by the way, in the us naval academy is called admiral tso's chicken. i love this dish. the original name in my book was actually called the long march of general tso, and he has marched very far indeed, because he is sweet, he is fried, and he is chicken -- all things that americans love.

左宗棠鸡,在美国海军军校被称为左司令鸡。我很喜欢这道菜。在我的书里,这道菜实际上叫左将军的长征,它确实在美国很受欢迎 ,因为它是甜的,油炸的,是鸡肉做的——全部都是美国人的最爱。

so, you know, i realized when i was there, general tso is kind of a lot like colonel sanders in america, in that he's known for chicken and not war. but in china, this guy's actually known for war and not chicken.


so it's kind of part of the phenomenon i called spontaneous self-organization, right, where, like in ant colonies, where little decisions made by -- on the micro-level actually have a big impact on the macro-level.


and the great innovation of chicken mcnuggets was not nuggetfying them, because that's kind of an easy concept, but the trick behind chicken mcnuggets was, they were able to remove the chicken from the bone in a cost-effective manner, which is why it took so long for other people to copy them.


we can think of chinese restaurants perhaps as linu_: sort of an open source thing, right, where ideas from one person can be copied and propagated across the entire system, that there can be specialized versions of chinese food, you know, depending on the region.



简介:残奥会短跑冠军aimee mullins天生没有腓骨,从小就要学习靠义肢走路和奔跑。如今,她不仅是短跑选手、演员、模特,还是一位稳健的演讲者。她不喜欢字典中 “disabled”这个词,因为负面词汇足以毁掉一个人。但是,坦然面对不幸,你会发现等待你的是更多的机会。

i'd like to share with you a discovery that i made a few months ago while writing an article for italian wired. i always keep my thesaurus handy whenever i'm writing anything, but i'd already finished editing the piece, and i realized that i had never once in my life looked up the word “disabled” to see what i'd find.

let me read you the entry. “disabled, adjective: crippled, helpless, useless, wrecked, stalled, maimed, wounded, mangled, lame, mutilated, run-down, worn-out, weakened, impotent, castrated, paralyzed, handicapped, senile, decrepit, laid-up, done-up, done-for, done-in cracked-up, counted-out; see also hurt, useless and weak. antonyms, healthy, strong, capable.” i was reading this list out loud to a friend and at first was laughing, it was so ludicrous, but i'd just gotten past “mangled,” and my voice broke, and i had to stop and collect myself from the emotional shock and impact that the assault from these words unleashed.

you know, of course, this is my raggedy old thesaurus so i'm thinking this must be an ancient print date, right? but, in fact, the print date was the early 1980s, when i would have been starting primary school and forming an understanding of myself outside the family unit and as related to the other kids and the world around me. and, needless to say, thank god i wasn't using a thesaurus back then. i mean, from this entry, it would seem that i was born into a world that perceived someone like me to have nothing positive whatsoever going for them, when in fact, today i'm celebrated for the opportunities and adventures my life has procured.

so, i immediately went to look up the __ online edition, e_pecting to find a revision worth noting. here's the updated version of this entry. unfortunately, it's not much better. i find the last two words under “near antonyms,” particularly unsettling: “whole” and “wholesome.”

so, it's not just about the words. it's what we believe about people when we name them with these words. it's about the values behind the words, and how we construct those values. our language affects our thinking and how we view the world and how we view other people. in fact, many ancient societies, including the greeks and the romans, believed that to utter a curse verbally was so powerful, because to say the thing out loud brought it into e_istence. so, what reality do we want to call into e_istence: a person who is limited, or a person who's empowered? by casually doing something as simple as naming a person, a child, we might be putting lids and casting shadows on their power. wouldn't we want to open doors for them instead?

one such person who opened doors for me was my childhood doctor at the a.i. dupont institute in wilmington, delaware. his name was dr. pizzutillo, an italian american, whose name, apparently, was too difficult for most americans to pronounce, so he went by dr. p. and dr. p always wore really colorful bow ties and had the very perfect disposition to work with children.

i loved almost everything about my time spent at this hospital, with the e_ception of my physical therapy sessions. i had to do what seemed like innumerable repetitions of e_ercises with these thick, elastic bands -- different colors, you know -- to help build up my leg muscles, and i hated these bands more than anything -- i hated them, had names for them. i hated them. and, you know, i was already bargaining, as a five year-old child, with dr. p to try to get out of doing these e_ercises, unsuccessfully, of course. and, one day, he came in to my session -- e_haustive and unforgiving, these sessions -- and he said to me, “wow. aimee, you are such a strong and powerful little girl, i think you're going to break one of those bands. when you do break it, i'm going to give you a hundred bucks.”

now, of course, this was a simple ploy on dr. p's part to get me to do the e_ercises i didn't want to do before the prospect of being the richest five-year-old in the second floor ward, but what he effectively did for me was reshape an awful daily occurrence into a new and promising e_perience for me. and i have to wonder today to what e_tent his vision and his declaration of me as a strong and powerful little girl shaped my own view of myself as an inherently strong, powerful and athletic person well into the future.

this is an e_ample of how adults in positions of power can ignite the power of a child. but, in the previous instances of those thesaurus entries, our language isn't allowing us to evolve into the reality that we would all want, the possibility of an individual to see themselves as capable. our language hasn't caught up with the changes in our society, many of which have been brought about by technology. certainly, from a medical standpoint, my legs, laser surgery for vision impairment, titanium knees and hip replacements for aging bodies that are allowing people to more fully engage with their abilities, and move beyond the limits that nature has imposed on them -- not to mention social networking platforms allow people to self-identify, to claim their own descriptions of themselves, so they can go align with global groups of their own choosing. so, perhaps technology is revealing more clearly to us now what has always been a truth: that everyone has something rare and powerful to offer our society, and that the human ability to adapt is our greatest asset.

the human ability to adapt, it's an interesting thing, because people have continually wanted to talk to me about overcoming adversity, and i'm going to make an admission: this phrase never sat right with me, and i always felt uneasy trying to answer people's questions about it, and i think i'm starting to figure out why. implicit in this phrase of “overcoming adversity” is the idea that success, or happiness, is about emerging on the other side of a challenging e_perience unscathed or unmarked by the e_perience, as if my successes in life have come about from an ability to sidestep or circumnavigate the presumed pitfalls of a life with prosthetics, or what other people perceive as my disability. but, in fact, we are changed. we are marked, of course, by a challenge, whether physically, emotionally or both. and i'm going to suggest that this is a good thing. adversity isn't an obstacle that we need to get around in order to resume living our life. it's part of our life. and i tend to think of it like my shadow. sometimes i see a lot of it, sometimes there's very little, but it's always with me. and, certainly, i'm not trying to diminish the impact, the weight, of a person's struggle.

there is adversity and challenge in life, and it's all very real and relative to every single person, but the question isn't whether or not you're going to meet adversity, but how you're going to meet it. so, our responsibility is not simply shielding those we care for from adversity, but preparing them to meet it well. and we do a disservice to our kids when we make them feel that they're not equipped to adapt. there's an important difference and distinction between the objective medical fact of my being an amputee and the subjective societal opinion of whether or not i'm disabled. and, truthfully, the only real and consistent disability i've had to confront is the world ever thinking that i could be described by those definitions.

in our desire to protect those we care about by giving them the cold, hard truth about their medical prognosis, or, indeed, a prognosis on the e_pected quality of their life, we have to make sure that we don't put the first brick in a wall that will actually disable someone. perhaps the e_isting model of only looking at what is broken in you and how do we fi_ it, serves to be more disabling to the individual than the pathology itself.

by not treating the wholeness of a person, by not acknowledging their potency, we are creating another ill on top of whatever natural struggle they might have. we are effectively grading someone's worth to our community. so we need to see through the pathology and into the range of human capability. and, most importantly, there's a partnership between those perceived deficiencies and our greatest creative ability. so it's not about devaluing, or negating, these more trying times as something we want to avoid or sweep under the rug, but instead to find those opportunities wrapped in the adversity. so maybe the idea i want to put out there is not so much overcoming adversity as it is opening ourselves up to it, embracing it, grappling with it, to use a wrestling term, maybe even dancing with it. and, perhaps, if we see adversity as natural, consistent and useful, we're less burdened by the presence of it.

this year we celebrate the 200th birthday of charles darwin, and it was 150 years ago, when writing about evolution, that darwin illustrated, i think, a truth about the human character. to paraphrase: it's not the strongest of the species that survives, nor is it the most intelligent that survives; it is the one that is most adaptable to change. conflict is the genesis of creation. from darwin's work, amongst others, we can recognize that the human ability to survive and flourish is driven by the struggle of the human spirit through conflict into transformation. so, again, transformation, adaptation, is our greatest human skill. and, perhaps, until we're tested, we don't know what we're made of. maybe that's what adversity gives us: a sense of self, a sense of our own power. so, we can give ourselves a gift. we can re-imagine adversity as something more than just tough times. maybe we can see it as change. adversity is just change that we haven't adapted ourselves to yet.

i think the greatest adversity that we've created for ourselves is this idea of normalcy. now, who's normal? there's no normal. there's common, there's typical. there's no normal, and would you want to meet that poor, beige person if they e_isted? (laughter) i don't think so. if we can change this paradigm from one of achieving normalcy to one of possibility -- or potency, to be even a little bit more dangerous -- we can release the power of so many more children, and invite them to engage their rare and valuable abilities with the community.

anthropologists tell us that the one thing we as humans have always required of our community members is to be of use, to be able to contribute. there's evidence that neanderthals, 60,000 years ago, carried their elderly and those with serious physical injury, and perhaps it's because the life e_perience of survival of these people proved of value to the community. they didn't view these people as broken and useless; they were seen as rare and valuable.

a few years ago, i was in a food market in the town where i grew up in that red zone in northeastern pennsylvania, and i was standing over a bushel of tomatoes. it was summertime: i had shorts on. i hear this guy, his voice behind me say, “well, if it isn't aimee mullins.” and i turn around, and it's this older man. i have no idea who he is.

and i said, “i'm sorry, sir, have we met? i don't remember meeting you.”

he said, “well, you wouldn't remember meeting me. i mean, when we met i was delivering you from your mother's womb.” (laughter) oh, that guy. and, but of course, actually, it did click.

this man was dr. kean, a man that i had only known about through my mother's stories of that day, because, of course, typical fashion, i arrived late for my birthday by two weeks. and so my mother's prenatal physician had gone on vacation, so the man who delivered me was a complete stranger to my parents. and, because i was born without the fibula bones, and had feet turned in, and a few toes in this foot and a few toes in that, he had to be the bearer -- this stranger had to be the bearer of bad news.

he said to me, “i had to give this prognosis to your parents that you would never walk, and you would never have the kind of mobility that other kids have or any kind of life of independence, and you've been making liar out of me ever since.” (laughter) (applause)

the e_traordinary thing is that he said he had saved newspaper clippings throughout my whole childhood, whether winning a second grade spelling bee, marching with the girl scouts, you know, the halloween parade, winning my college scholarship, or any of my sports victories, and he was using it, and integrating it into teaching resident students, med students from hahnemann medical school and hershey medical school. and he called this part of the course the _ factor, the potential of the human will. no prognosis can account for how powerful this could be as a determinant in the quality of someone's life. and dr. kean went on to tell me, he said, “in my e_perience, unless repeatedly told otherwise, and even if given a modicum of support, if left to their own devices, a child will achieve.”

see, dr. kean made that shift in thinking. he understood that there's a difference between the medical condition and what someone might do with it. and there's been a shift in my thinking over time, in that, if you had asked me at 15 years old, if i would have traded prosthetics for flesh-and-bone legs, i wouldn't have hesitated for a second. i aspired to that kind of normalcy back then. but if you ask me today, i'm not so sure. and it's because of the e_periences i've had with them, not in spite of the e_periences i've had with them. and perhaps this shift in me has happened because i've been e_posed to more people who have opened doors for me than those who have put lids and cast shadows on me.

see, all you really need is one person to show you the epiphany of your own power, and you're off. if you can hand somebody the key to their own power -- the human spirit is so receptive -- if you can do that and open a door for someone at a crucial moment, you are educating them in the best sense. you're teaching them to open doors for themselves. in fact, the e_act meaning of the word “educate” comes from the root word “educe.” it means “to bring forth what is within, to bring out potential.” so again, which potential do we want to bring out?

there was a case study done in 1960s britain, when they were moving from grammar schools to comprehensive schools. it's called the streaming trials. we call it “tracking” here in the states. it's separating students from a, b, c, d and so on. and the “a students” get the tougher curriculum, the best teachers, etc. well, they took, over a three-month period, d-level students, gave them a's, told them they were “a's,” told them they were bright, and at the end of this three-month period, they were performing at a-level.

and, of course, the heartbreaking, flip side of this study, is that they took the “a students” and told them they were “d's.” and that's what happened at the end of that three-month period. those who were still around in school, besides the people who had dropped out. a crucial part of this case study was that the teachers were duped too. the teachers didn't know a switch had been made. they were simply told, “these are the 'a-students,' these are the 'd-students.'” and that's how they went about teaching them and treating them.

so, i think that the only true disability is a crushed spirit, a spirit that's been crushed doesn't have hope, it doesn't see beauty, it no longer has our natural, childlike curiosity and our innate ability to imagine. if instead, we can bolster a human spirit to keep hope, to see beauty in themselves and others, to be curious and imaginative, then we are truly using our power well. when a spirit has those qualities, we are able to create new realities and new ways of being.

i'd like to leave you with a poem by a fourteenth-century persian poet named hafiz that my friend, jacques dembois told me about, and the poem is called “the god who only knows four words”: “every child has known god, not the god of names, not the god of don'ts, but the god who only knows four words and keeps repeating them, saying, 'come dance with me. come, dance with me. come, dance with me.'”

thank you. (applause)


in a funny, rapid-fire 4 minutes, ale_is ohanian of reddit tells the real-life fable of one humpback whale's rise to web stardom. the lesson of mister splashy pants is a shoo-in classic for meme-makers and marketers in the facebook age.

这段有趣的4分钟演讲,来自 reddit 网站创始人 ale_is ohanian。他讲了一个座头鲸在网上一夜成名的真实故事。“溅水先生”的故事是脸书时代米姆(小编注:根据《牛津英语词典》,meme被定义为:“文化的基本单位,通过非遗传的方式,特别是模仿而得到传递。”)制造者和传播者共同创造的经典案例。

演讲的开头,ale_is ohanian 介绍了“溅水先生”的故事。“绿色和平”环保组织为了阻止日本的捕鲸行为,在一只鲸鱼体内植入新片,并发起一个为这只座头鲸起名的活动。“绿色和平”组织希望起低调奢华有内涵的名字,但经过 reddit 的宣传和推动,票数最多的却是非常不高大上的“溅水先生”这个名字。经过几番折腾,“绿色和平”接受了这个名字,并且这一行动成功阻止了日本捕鲸活动。

演讲内容节选(ale_ ohanian 从社交网络的角度分析这个事件)

and actually, redditors in the internet community were happy to participate, but they weren't whale lovers. a few of them certainly were. but we're talking about a lot of people who were just really interested and really caught up in this great meme, and in fact someone from greenpeace came back on the site and thanked reddit for its participation. but this wasn't really out of altruism. this was just out of interest in doing something cool.

事实上,reddit 的社区用户们很高兴参与其中,但他们并非是鲸鱼爱好者。当然,他们中的一小部分或许是。我们看到的是一群人积极地去参与到这个米姆(社会活动)中,实际上 “绿色和平”中的人登陆 reddit.com,感谢大家的参与。网友们这么做并非是完全的利他主义。他们只是觉得做这件事很酷。

and this is kind of how the internet works. this is that great big secret. because the internet provides this level playing field. your link is just as good as your link, which is just as good as my link. as long as we have a browser, anyone can get to any website no matter how big a budget you have.


the other important thing is that it costs nothing to get that content online now. there are so many great publishing tools that are available, it only takes a few minutes of your time now to actually produce something. and the cost of iteration is so cheap that you might as well give it a go.


and if you do, be genuine about it. be honest. be up front. and one of the great lessons that greenpeace actually learned was that it's okay to lose control. the final message that i want to share with all of you -- that you can do well online. if you want to succeed you've got to be okay to just lose control. thank you.



try something new for 30 days 小计划帮你实现大目标

a few years ago, i felt like i was stuck in a rut, so i decided to follow in the footsteps of the great american philosopher, morgan spurlock, and try something new for 30 days. the idea is actually pretty simple. think about something you’ve always wanted to add to your life and try it for the ne_t 30 days. it turns out, 30 days is just about the right amount of time to add a new habit or subtract a habit — like watching the news — from your life.

几年前, 我感觉对老一套感到枯燥乏味, 所以我决定追随伟大的美国哲学家摩根·斯普尔洛克的脚步,尝试做新事情30天。这个想法的确是非常简单。考虑下,你常想在你生命中做的一些事情 接下来30天尝试做这些。 这就是,30天刚好是这么一段合适的时间 去养成一个新的习惯或者改掉一个习惯——例如看新闻——在你生活中。

there’s a few things i learned while doing these 30-day challenges. the first was, instead of the months flying by, forgotten, the time was much more memorable. this was part of a challenge i did to take a picture everyday for a month. and i remember e_actly where i was and what i was doing that day. i also noticed that as i started to do more and harder 30-day challenges, my self-confidence grew. i went from desk-dwelling computer nerd to the kind of guy who bikes to work — for fun. even last year, i ended up hiking up mt. kilimanjaro, the highest mountain in africa. i would never have been that adventurous before i started my 30-day challenges.

当我在30天做这些挑战性事情时,我学到以下一些事。第一件事是,取代了飞逝而过易被遗忘的岁月的是 这段时间非常的更加令人难忘。挑战的一部分是要一个月内每天我要去拍摄一张照片。我清楚地记得那一天我所处的位置我都在干什么。我也注意到随着我开始做更多的,更难的30天里具有挑战性的事时,我自信心也增强了。我从一个台式计算机宅男极客变成了一个爱骑自行车去工作的人——为了玩乐。甚至去年,我完成了在非洲最高山峰乞力马扎罗山的远足。在我开始这30天做挑战性的事之前我从来没有这样热爱冒险过。

i also figured out that if you really want something badly enough, you can do anything for 30 days. have you ever wanted to write a novel? every november, tens of thousands of people try to write their own 50,000 word novel from scratch in 30 days. it turns out, all you have to do is write 1,667 words a day for a month. so i did. by the way, the secret is not to go to sleep until you’ve written your words for the day. you might be sleep-deprived, but you’ll finish your novel. now is my book the ne_t great american novel? no. i wrote it in a month. it’s awful. but for the rest of my life, if i meet john hodgman at a ted party, i don’t have to say, “i’m a computer scientist.” no, no, if i want to i can say, “i’m a novelist.”




so here’s one last thing i’d like to mention. i learned that when i made small, sustainable changes, things i could keep doing, they were more likely to stick. there’s nothing wrong with big, crazy challenges. in fact, they’re a ton of fun. but they’re less likely to stick. when i gave up sugar for 30 days, day 31 looked like this.




so here’s my question to you: what are you waiting for? i guarantee you the ne_t 30 days are going to pass whether you like it or not, so why not think about something you have always wanted to try and give it a shot for the ne_t 30 days.







I was one of the only kids in college who had a reason to go to the P.O. bo_ at the end of the day, and that was mainly because my mother has never believed in email, in Facebook, in te_ting or cell phones in general. And so while other kids were BBM-ing their parents, I was literally waiting by the mailbo_ to get a letter from home to see how the weekend had gone, which was a little frustrating when Grandma was in the hospital, but I was just looking for some sort of scribble, some unkempt cursive from my mother.

And so when I moved to New York City after college and got completely sucker-punched in the face by depression, I did the only thing I could think of at the time. I wrote those same kinds of letters that my mother had written me for strangers, and tucked them all throughout the city, dozens and dozens of them. I left them everywhere, in cafes and in libraries, at the U.N., everywhere. I blogged about those letters and the days when they were necessary, and I posed a kind of crazy promise to the Internet: that if you asked me for a hand-written letter, I would write you one, no questions asked. Overnight, my inbo_ morphed into this harbor of heartbreak -- a single mother in Sacramento, a girl being bullied in rural Kansas, all asking me, a 22-year-old girl who barely even knew her own coffee order, to write them a love letter and give them a reason to wait by the mailbo_.

Well, today I fuel a global organization that is fueled by those trips to the mailbo_, fueled by the ways in which we can harness social media like never before to write and mail strangers letters when they need them most, but most of all, fueled by crates of mail like this one, my trusty mail crate, filled with the scriptings of ordinary people, strangers writing letters to other strangers not because they're ever going to meet and laugh over a cup of coffee, but because they have found one another by way of letter-writing.

But, you know, the thing that always gets me about these letters is that most of them have been written by people that have never known themselves loved on a piece of paper. They could not tell you about the ink of their own love letters. They're the ones from my generation, the ones of us that have grown up into a world where everything is paperless, and where some of our best conversations have happened upon a screen. We have learned to diary our pain onto Facebook, and we speak swiftly in 140 characters or less.

But what if it's not about efficiency this time? I was on the subway yesterday with this mail crate, which is a conversation starter, let me tell you. If you ever need one, just carry one of these. (Laughter) And a man just stared at me, and he was like, “Well, why don't you use the Internet?” And I thought, “Well, sir, I am not a strategist, nor am I specialist. I am merely a storyteller.” And so I could tell you about a woman whose husband has just come home from Afghanistan, and she is having a hard time unearthing this thing called conversation, and so she tucks love letters throughout the house as a way to say, “Come back to me. Find me when you can.” Or a girl who decides that she is going to leave love letters around her campus in Dubuque, Iowa, only to find her efforts ripple-effected the ne_t day when she walks out onto the quad and finds love letters hanging from the trees, tucked in the bushes and the benches. Or the man who decides that he is going to take his life, uses Facebook as a way to say goodbye to friends and family. Well, tonight he sleeps safely with a stack of letters just like this one tucked beneath his pillow, scripted by strangers who were there for him when.

These are the kinds of stories that convinced me that letter-writing will never again need to flip back her hair and talk about efficiency, because she is an art form now, all the parts of her, the signing, the scripting, the mailing, the doodles in the margins. The mere fact that somebody would even just sit down, pull out a piece of paper and think about someone the whole way thro