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In The Expanse, humanity’s sprawling interplanetary empire rests on a single, elegant piece of fiction: the Epstein Drive. This miracle engine effortlessly defies physics, allowing ships to accelerate continuously, cross the solar system in mere days, and make far-flung Ceres as accessible as a commuter suburb. The show’s true genius lies in its grounded illusion: it layers the Drive with convincing jargon, detailed specs, and plausible limitations ("the Tori models can’t sustain 5G burns for more than 12 hours"). You’re genuinely tempted to believe it because the entire world feels engineered, not simply dreamed up.
Remember Bryant Gumbel? Back in the mid-90s, as the digital world began its explosive growth, the then-Today Show co-host famously dismissed the internet as a passing fad. "I'm online, and I think it's a fad," he declared, suggesting we'd all soon forget about it. History, of course, seems to have mocked him. The internet is now the bedrock of modern life.
At some point, in any company, there is always a new process introduced. This process promises to make things better, safer, and more efficient. In theory, it's brilliant. On paper, it addresses all the potential pitfalls. But then, it hits the real world, and what sounded like a stroke of genius becomes a bureaucratic nightmare, often leading to the exact opposite of its intended outcome.
When I encourage friends to start blogging, a common fear pops up: "What if I'm wrong?" or "What if no one likes what I write?" It's a completely understandable concern in an age where online engagement can feel like a high-stakes game. Being "wrong" on the internet can certainly generate a lot of attention, sometimes overwhelmingly so. But for every viral misstep, there's an entire digital forest of content that goes completely unnoticed.
In a world overflowing with "how-to" guides and expert advice, it's easy to fall into the trap of endless consumption. We binge YouTube tutorials on video editing, devour articles on effective writing, or meticulously study blueprints for building. And while these resources can be helpful, they often miss a critical point: for true beginners, the most potent learning tool isn't a tip, it's repetition.
I recently had a firsthand experience that perfectly illustrates this. I was helping a small startup on a project in my spare time. I set up an application from top to bottom, documenting the entire process with screenshots and everything they could possibly need to manage it themselves. My thought was, "Great, they're probably good to go; they won't need a developer for this again." I had essentially given them all the tools for free.
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a book by Ibrahim Diallo
After the explosive reception of my story, The Machine Fired Me, I set out to write a book to tell the before and after.
I started as a minimum wage laborer in Los Angeles and I set out to reach the top of the echelon in Silicon Valley. Every time I made a step forward, I was greeted with the harsh changing reality of the modern work space.
Getting fired is no longer reserved to those who mess up. Instead, it's a popular company strategy to decrease expenses and increase productivity.