I'm slouching comfortably at the Polaris Barnes & Noble, reading, thinking, writing, enjoying the pleasant company of Micah & Hannah. Our typical Saturday morning routine. Starbucks, Barnes & Noble, peculiar muzak, stacks of books, quiet conversation:

can we buy this book? no maybe next week? maybe but it's 20% off and another 10% off for members yes, I realize that so can we buy it? no ok, can we stay longer so I can finish it? of course

In front of me are the displays for New Fiction. I am intrigued by the titles:

Long Drive Home

Started Early, Took My Dog

Who Shot The Water Buffalo?

The Sly Company Of People Who Care

A Day In The Life Of A Smiling Woman

The Final Testament Of The Holy Bible

Satan's Sisters

To Be Sung Underwater

The Butterfly's Daughter

The Tiger's Wife

Urbi et Orbi ("to the City of Rome and to the World") was a standard opening of Roman proclamations. The term is now used to denote a papal address and Apostolic Blessing that is addressed to the City of Rome and to the entire world.

The blessing takes place at each Easter and Christmas celebration in Rome from the central loggia of St. Peter's Basilica, at noon. Part of the urbi et orbi blessing is the remission of all temporal punishment due to sin through a plenary indulgence attached to the Papal blessing.

The blessings at Christmas and Easter are broadcast throughout the world by the European Broadcasting Union. The indulgence and remission of venial sins is not only granted to the people in St. Peter's Square but also to Catholics watching the ceremony on television and listening on radio

via Wikipedia.

The content of a poster put up behind the scenes at every Apple Retail Store, now that they are celebrating their 10th anniversary:

In the last 10 years, we've learned a lot. We've learned to treat every day with the same enthusiasm we had on the first day. We've learned the importance of giving our customers just as much attention as they give us. And we've learned the art of hiring the right people for the right positions. We've learned it's better to adapt to the neighborhood rather than expecting the neighborhood to adapt to us. Which is why we spend so much time and energy building stores the way we do. Our first store, in Tysons Corner, taught us our first lesson within the first 30 minutes. We had just opened the doors when we noticed the steel already needed polishing. With a special polishing solution. And a special polishing tool. That's when we learned that blasting steel with virgin sand makes it less prone to scuff marks. We've also learned that glass can be much more than glass. We've learned that a 32'6" transparent glass box can stand tall even among the giants of the Manhattan skyline. That when glass becomes as iconic as the Fifth Avenue Cube, it can also become the fifth most photographed landmark in New York City. And we've learned that if you have to, you can close an entire street in Sydney to bring in three-story panes of glass. And when you create three-story glass, you also have to create a rig that can install three-story glass. We've even figured out how to make the world's largest pieces of curved glass for one of our stores in Shanghai. We've also learned more than a few things about stone. Like how to reveal granite's true color with a blowtorch. And that sometimes granite has veins of color that have to be matched. We've also learned that getting these details perfect can feel like trying to move a mountain. Sometimes two. But in the end, the effort is worth it. Because steel, glass, and stone can combine to create truly unique and inspiring spaces. We also understand that finding the right design for our stores is critical. We even built a full-scale facade of the Regent Street store in a Cupertino parking lot to be sure the design was right. Which taught us the value of seeing things full size. We once had a notion that ministores would offer the ultimate in convenience. Then we built one. Which showed us that bigger can actually be better. And we've learned that even when our stores are big, no detail is too small. This is something we learned all over again when we restored the Paris Opera store down to the last of its more than 500,000 tiles. We've also learned that our customers like open spaces, glass staircases, and handcrafted oak tables. And that those spaces don't need to smell like pine trees or tomatoes to make them inviting. We're constantly working to make our stores more artful, more iconic, and more innovative. And we're awfully proud of every single one. We're proud of our stores not just because they're successful, but because of everything they've taught us. All the ways Apple Stores have made Apple stronger as a company. Over the past 10 years, we've learned that our stores are the embodiment of the Apple brand for our customers. Now, our customers just happen to be the entire reason we're here, so let's dedicate a few words to them. Around the time we opened the store in Tysons Corner, in 2001, everyone else was trying to talk to their customers less. Which made us think that maybe we should talk to them more. Face-to-face if possible. So we've found ways to strike up a conversation at every possible opportunity. We talk while they play with the products on the tables. And when they join us for a workshop. These conversations have taught us that customers love our products, but what they really want is to make a scrapbook out of family photos. They want to make a movie about their kid. Or a website about traveling across the country. Which has taught us that Apple Stores can and should be centers for creativity. And we've figured out through programs like Apple Camp and Youth Workshops that creativity doesn't care about age. The movies and slideshows we've seen kids make are proof that all you need are the right tools and an idea. And we must be doing something right, because the kids' smiles are just as big as ours. We've also learned that musicians can record an album in our stores that goes to the top of the charts. And that award-winning film directors are interested no just in our computers but in our workshops. We've learned a lot about having fun. And we've learned our customers like to use our products for business too. Experience has taught us that having one Pro Day per week dedicated to business customers isn't enough. That we need to be open for business very day. And have space devoted to business training sessions, workshops, and events. We've learned that every staff member should be just as fluent in the needs of a business customer as the needs of any other customer. Our millions of conversations with customers of every stripe have taught us it's not about making people feel like a computer or phone loves them. That's impossible. Instead, it's about giving people the tools to do what they love. And we've learned how to create amazing programs like One to One and Personal Setup to give people those tools. We created programs like these to replace fear with confidence. Because our customers have shown us that the ownership experience is even more important than the sale. We learned all this by asking questions. And genuinely listening to the answers. And to be sure we're hearing everything, we've learned to converse in 36 languages, and a few of the local dialects as well. We've even learned a few cultural things. The proper use of the word y'all, for example. And our Japanese customers one taught us that their superheroes don't wear capes. Which also taught us to see feedback as a gift. We've learned that a visit to the Genius Bar can fix more than just computers. It can also restore a customer's relationship with Apple. And that we don't need a minifridge stocked with free water to get people to talk to a Genius. Knowing they can get exactly the right answer when something isn't working is enough. We even figured out how to shorten the time an in-store repair takes from seven days to one day. Our customers hold us to exceptionally high standards. So we've learned how to raise ours even higher. 325 store openings have taught us that a grand opening creates blocks and blocks of excitement. That people will stand in line for hours, even days, just to be among the first to walk through the front door. And to get a free T-shirt. Speaking of T-shirts, we've learned more than you can imagine about our own. We've found that when we wear black T-shirts, we blend in. And when we wear too many colors it's confusing. But blue shirts are just right. We've also learned that it takes precisely 4,253 stitches to embroider the Apple logo on those blue shirts. And we even figured out which direction the stitches should go in. When it comes to product launches, we've learned we have to work hard to ensure supply meets demand. If not on the first day, then soon thereafter. And we've learned how to put our own products to use in innovative ways in our stores. We've created entirely new systems like EasyPay to help our customers as efficiently as possible. We've replaced the red phone behind the Genius Bar with more expertise right in our stores. All of these experiences have made us smarter. And at the very center of all we've accomplished, all we've learned over the past 10 years, are our people. People who understand how important art is to technology. People who match, and often exceed, the excitement of our customers on days we release new products. The more than 30,000 smart, dedicated employees who work so hard to create lasting relationships with the millions who walk through our doors. Whether the task at hand is fixing computers, teaching workshops, organizing inventory, designing iconic structures, inventing proprietary technology, negotiating deals, sweating the details of signage, or doing countless other things, we've learned to hire the best in every discipline. We now see that it's our job to train our people and then learn from them. And we recruit employees with such different backgrounds--teachers, musicians, artists, engineers--that there's a lot they can teach us. We've learned how to value a magnetic personality just as much as proficiency. How to look for intelligence but give just as much weight to kindness. How to find people who want a career, not a job. And we've found that when we hire the right people, we can lead rather than manage. We can give each person their own piece of the garden to transform. We've learned our best people often provide the best training for the next generation. And that it's important for every member of our staff to not only feel a connection to their store, but to the teams in Cupertino and to the stores around the world. Because the best ways of doing things usually translate, regardless of language or country. We've also learned that due tot he exceptional quality of our applicants, it can be harder to be hired at the Apple Store than in Cupertino. It can sometimes take two to three years to bring someone in. Not because they aren't right for Apple. But because we want to be sure the opportunity we have to offer is right for them. Why have we learned to be so selective? So careful? Because our people are the soul of the Apple Stores. And together, our team is the strongest ever seen in retail. As beautiful and iconic as our stores may be, the people who create and staff those stores are what matters most. So on this 3,652nd day, we say thank you to every single one of you. We say thank you to those who were there on the first day, and to those whose first day is today. The past 10 years of the Apple Store have changed Apple as a company. Our experiences, our successes, even our occasional missteps, have made us better. They've made Apple better. And it's because of those experiences, and the ways they've changed us, that we can't wait to see what we'll learn next. It's been 10 years. What an amazing first step.

Because the wedding was illegal and a secret, except to the invited guests, and because marriage rites in Rajasthan are often conducted late at night, it was well into the afternoon before the three girl brides in this dry farm settlement in the north of India began to prepare themselves for their sacred vows. They squatted side by side on the dirt, a crowd of village women holding sari cloth around them as a makeshift curtain, and poured soapy water from a metal pan over their heads. Two of the brides, the sisters Radha and Gora, were 15 and 13, old enough to understand what was happening. The third, their niece Rajani, was 5. She wore a pink T-shirt with a butterfly design on the shoulder. A grown-up helped her pull it off to bathe.

The grooms were en route from their own village, many miles away. No one could afford an elephant or the lavishly saddled horses that would have been ceremonially correct for the grooms' entrance to the wedding, so they were coming by car and were expected to arrive high-spirited and drunk. The only local person to have met the grooms was the father of the two oldest girls, a slender gray-haired farmer with a straight back and a drooping mustache. This farmer, whom I will call Mr. M, was both proud and wary as he surveyed guests funneling up the rocky path toward the bright silks draped over poles for shade; he knew that if a nonbribable police officer found out what was under way, the wedding might be interrupted mid-ceremony, bringing criminal arrests and lingering shame to his family.

via National Geographic Magazine.

Rajani fell asleep before the ceremonials began. An uncle lifted her gently from her cot, hoisted her over one of his shoulders, and carried her in the moonlight toward the Hindu priest and the smoke of the sacred fire and the guests on plastic chairs and her future husband, a ten-year-old boy with a golden turban on his head.

Barth CD I/2 11:24 am

eugene peterson, karl barth & : why I'm still tweeting cryptic bits of barth http://goo.gl/qvl8K

11:48 am

"the Church is no longer the Church where it does not know a higher authority than its own"

12:11 pm

"...for the Word of God is not spoken to individuals, but to the Church of God, and to individuals only in the Church"

12:38 pm

barth's beautiful & brilliant account of why & how to confess our faith in public, with confidence & humility: http://goo.gl/VzaXl

12:46 pm

"...before I myself make a confession I must myself have heard the confession of the Church"

12:47 pm

"if I have not heard the Church, I cannot speak to it…"

12:47 pm

"I cannot thrust myself into the debate about a right faith which goes on in the Church without first having listened…"

1:14 pm

"my first duty is to love & respect [the confession of the Church] as the witness of my fathers & brethren..." http://goo.gl/CnsCX

1:19 pm

If he keeps writing like this, I will no longer be able to simply listen & process at a safe distance… http://goo.gl/CnsCX

1:25 pm

"the immediate goal & necessary result of a debate on true faith is that those who take part in it should make a common confession"

1:27 pm

"wherever there is this agreement, & therefore a Church, debate about true faith has reached its goal"

In May 1846, at the height of the Gold Rush, several extended families and quite a few unattached males headed with their caravans from Illinois to California. Due to poor organization, some bad advice, and a huge dose of bad luck, by November the group had foundered in the deep snows of the Sierra Nevada. They came to a halt at what is now known as Donner Pass, and, in an iconic if unpleasant moment in California’s history, they sat out winter in makeshift tents buried in snow, the group dwindling as survivors resorted to cannibalism to avert starvation. From an evolutionary point of view, what makes the story interesting is not the cannibalism — which, in the annals of anthropology, is relatively banal — but who survived and who did not. Of the 87 pioneers, only 46 came over the pass alive in February and March of the next year. Their story, then, represents a case study of what might be termed catastrophic natural selection. It turns out that, contrary to lay Darwinist expectations, it was not the virile young but those who were embedded in families who had the best odds of survival. The unattached young men, presumably fuller of vigor and capable of withstanding more physical hardship than the others, fared worst, worse even than the older folk and the children.

For Robin Dunbar, an evolutionary biologist cum anthropologist, stories such as this one highlight how human kin networks aid survival — and, therefore, why people may take great pains to manufacture kin, via godparents for instance, or marriage, or by obscuring or playing up paternity.

via LOS ANGELES REVIEW OF BOOKS.

Our big brains — in particular our species’ inordinately large neocortex — evolved, Dunbar argues, in lockstep with our ability to manage increasingly large social groups: to read motives, to keep track of who is doing what with whom, of who is a reliable sharer, who a likely freeloader, and so on. Many evolutionary biologists have made this point over the years, of course. Where Dunbar is unique is in having assigned a definite number to what constitutes a stable human group or community. The “Dunbar’s number” of his title is (drum roll…) 150. Extrapolating from the estimated size of Neolithic villages, of Amish and other communities, of companies in most armies, and other such data, Dunbar argues that this number is, more or less, the limit of stable social networks because it represents the limit, more or less, of our cognitive capacities.

The number is highly debatable, but it turns out that, Facebook aside, the average person has about 150 friends — people he or she might actually recognize and be recognized by at a random airport, 150 people he or she might feel comfortable borrowing five dollars from. As for how many friends we have evolved to “need” in a more intimate sense, that is a different matter. According to Dunbar, most of us have, on average, about 3-5 intimate friends whom we speak to at least weekly, and about 10-15 more friends whose deaths would greatly distress us. These circles can include kin; indeed, the more extended family we keep in close touch with, the fewer friends we are likely to have — precisely because our neocortices can only manage so many relationships. What is perhaps most intriguing is the degree to which the inner circles change over time; close friends can drop through the circles of intimacy if we do not spend time with them, and even out of the 150, especially when someone new captures our attention. By contrast, kin have enough staying power that we can visit and expect to be housed by a cousin we have never met or a great-aunt after decades of neglect. In short, while friendships “decay” if not actively cultivated, kin relationships do not. Or so Dunbar claims.