I really wanted to write another article about games and the wisdom of crowds this weekend. Instead, I spent some time hacking the limbs off overgrown trees in my otherwise spectacular backyard, which I just acquired (along with the house in front of the backyard.) The house is nice, too, but I can’t do anything with it until the floors are ripped up to accommodate my wife’s taste in hardwood, and the walls are painted to obscure the previous owner’s fascination with florescent green and blue stripes. (To be fair, they had kids, which I’m told can trigger natural but horrific lapses in aesthetic judgment. It’s all part of the same biological mechanism that prevents parents from realizing that their children are ugly, singing woefully off-key, and/or kicking the back of my chair during a movie.)
But I digress. My backyard rocks (see the photo below for indisputable proof). My article on the wisdom of crowds, on the other hand, does not rock, because it does not exist, and probably will not exist until I have imposed my will to a sufficient extent upon the hapless vegetation that inhabits my new domain. [Insert maniacal cackle here.]
I am considering the purchase of more power tools. Life is good.